In this frigid cold snap we have had in Ohio recently I have been filling our bird feeders every day, and the cardinals, blue jays, woodpeckers, sparrows, and the whole wonderful diversity of our feathered friends have flocked to our yard as soon as I finish. How they communicate so quickly that it’s feeding time is a mystery to me, but they do; and I’ve decided we have very biblical birds in our neighborhood.
You see, the birds don’t ever leave food on the table or let the seeds that fall on the ground go to waste, and that has reminded me of the story in Exodus about God providing manna/bread from heaven each day to feed the Hebrews in the wilderness. As usual the Hebrew people are complaining to Moses that he has brought them out into the wilderness to starve. They say they were better off as slaves in Egypt. When Moses shares their concern with Yahweh this is the response he gets: ”Then the Lord said to Moses, “I am going to rain bread from heaven for you, and each day the people shall go out and gather enough for that day. In that way I will test them, whether they will follow my instruction or not.” (Exodus 16:4)
And God delivers on that promise, but the test is that God through Moses instructs the people to only gather enough of the manna for that day’s needs and not to try and store some up for another day. God is testing their faith to see if they will trust that each day the promise will be fulfilled again. That’s why when Jesus teaches his disciples what we now know as “The Lord’s Prayer” we are instructed to pray only for “our daily bread,” and not for a whole week’s worth. To do so is the difference between a mindset of faith in God’s providence and a scarcity mentality where we hoard more than our share of life’s resources for fear that we will run out the next day.
And that’s the way the birds in our yard live. They don’t leave any bird seed in the feeder for tomorrow because they trust that I will be faithful to meet their needs each new day. As you will see if you read the rest of the story in Exodus 16 some of God’s human children aren’t quite as trusting. And since I don’t speak fluent bird it may be that my feathered friends do complain when I’m late filling their feeders. They are much earlier risers than I; so I don’t pretend to be as faithful as God, but I can tell by the way they flock to the feeders whenever I fill them they are very grateful. And I am grateful to them for reminding me to be satisfied with my daily bread.
Ever since October 7 I have been pondering the irony of the Israeli response to the horrific massacre of 1200 Israelis by Hamas. One of the most familiar tenets of the Hebrew law found in Leviticus says, “Anyone who maims another shall suffer the same injury in return: fracture for fracture, eye for eye, tooth for tooth; the injury inflicted is the injury to be suffered.” (24:19-20). I learned two things about that Scripture in seminary: 1) It is very similar to another ancient law, The Code of Hammurabi, a Babylonian King in the 1700’s BCE, and 2) both the Code of Hammurabi and the Hebrew law were meant not to justify revenge but to limit the amount of revenge one could seek for an offense to an equitable amount. So, for example, if someone poked out one of my eyes I could not in return poke out both of his or hers.
Jesus came along 3000 years after Hammurabi and 1400 years after Moses and raised the bar to a whole new level in the Sermon on the Mount where he says, “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’But I say to you: Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also,and if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, give your coat as well,and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile.Give to the one who asks of you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you.“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you,” (Matthew 5:38-43).
Now, I’m not expecting the Israelis to live up to Jesus’ ethics. I can’t, and I’m not sure anyone but Jesus could ever do that. But it seems like not killing your enemy’s innocent women and children might be a start. And it does seem fair to hold the Israelis to their own Scriptural standards. At last count the Israelis have killed 16000 Palestinians in Gaza. That’s more than 10 for every Israeli killed on 10/7. That’s a lot more than “an eye for an eye.”
I understand the horror of that dark day. No, I don’t. Thank God, I have never experienced anything like it. I was even far removed from any personal suffering on 9/11. So, I know I have no right to judge. I don’t know what I would do in the Israeli shoes. Nor do I have any idea how I would survive the God awful inhumane conditions the people of Gaza have been living under for the last 60 days. I just know the insane suffering I see on my TV screen has got to stop. Not just because it is morally unjustifiable but mostly because it is just plain counterproductive.
War and killing have never solved anything. If the Israelis could actually eliminate Hamas and terrorism by use of force there might be an argument for their military campaign. But it won’t work. The anger being fanned in the Muslim world by the war in Gaza will produce far more terrorists can ever kill. If history has taught us anything it is that revenge only begets more violence in return. That’s the point of Jesus’ teaching above about turning the other cheek. To resist the natural human urge to strike back in anger, as impossible as that seems, is the only way the cycle of violence can ever be stopped in its tracks.
As progressive as it was in the days of Hammurabi, as Gandhi once pointed out, “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth just creates a world of blind, toothless people.”
I know that too criticize Israel opens me to charges of antisemitism, but I assure you I am not anti-Semitic. I am a Christian nurtured in the Judeo-Christian tradition. Jesus was a Jew. I am constantly challenged and inspired by the Hebrew prophets. I grieve for the hostages still in captivity, for the suffering of the Jewish people throughout history and on 10/7, but the killing needs to stop; the suffering of the people of Gaza must stop.
“Then he took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” And he did the same with the cup after supper, saying, “This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood. But see, the one who betrays me is with me, and his hand is on the table.” (Luke 22:19-21)
I heard something from a friend this week that has left me adrift in a sea of incredulity. Given the bitter divisions in our nation and my denomination I should not have been shocked, but I was. This friend is a former member of a United Methodist church I used to serve. She is one of the casualties of the great United Methodist schism of 2022-23. She told me that a relative who still attends the now Global Methodist Church reported the following from their worship service last Sunday: prior to communion the pastor told the congregation that anyone planning to vote for Issue One in the upcoming Ohio general election should probably not take communion.
Issue One is a constitutional amendment that will protect reproductive rights and access to abortion. This is a very controversial and emotionally charged issue, and while I respect the opinion of those who oppose Issue One I do not think access to the Sacrament of Holy Communion should be used to persuade or intimidate anyone to vote in any particular way.
I don’t know what the position of the Global Methodist denomination is on who may or may not receive this sacrament, but in the United Methodist Church we practice an open table. As a pastor I would never presume to judge who is worthy or unworthy to come to the Lord’s table because it is the Lord’s table, not mine or my church’s. The exemplar for that inclusive table is the Upper Room itself on the night before Jesus is crucified. The Gospels make it very clear that all 12 disciples are there to celebrate the Passover with Jesus. You can count them all in Da Vinci’s painting.
But seriously, check the Gospel accounts in Matthew 26, Mark 14, and Luke 22.
According to all of these retellings of what transpired in the Upper Room Jesus not only knew that Judas would betray him and Peter would deny him 3 times, but also that all the other disciples would run and hide in his hour of greatest need. “Then Jesus said to them, “You will all become deserters because of me this night; for it is written, “I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep of the flock will be scattered.'(Matthew 26:31). Does that disqualify any of the 12 from sitting at the table with Jesus? No, they all are there to receive this sacrament of remembrance.
Jesus is very clear about whose job it is and isn’t to judge others – and it isn’t mine or any clergy person’s. “Do not judge, so that you may not be judged. For with the judgment you make you will be judged, (Matthew 7:1) Or check the parable of the weeds in the wheat in Matthew 13 where Jesus says, “Let both of them grow together until the harvest; and at harvest time I will tell the reapers, ‘Collect the weeds first and bind them in bundles to be burned, but gather the wheat into my barn.’” Or my favorite, the billboard that says, “Just love them all. I’ll sort them out later.” – God.
When Jesus says, “Come to me all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest,” (Matthew 11:28) all means all; and this sinner is darn glad we are all invited to the table. When we all get on one side of the table for a remake of Da Vinci’s picture there will be Donald Trump next to Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, Hamas Palestinians next to Netanyahu, Putin next to Zelenskyy, and in the middle Jesus asking, “What took you so long to get here?”
“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy. But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, ” Matthew 5:43-44
I was sitting in Tim Horton’s on 9/11/23 while new tires were being installed on my car. I read a couple very moving pieces on Facebook about 9/11 and began trying to figure out why I am more emotional about that awful day now, 22 years later, than I can remember being except on the day itself, and maybe not even then.
I know that like my father before me I get emotional more easily as I age. Don’t tell anyone, but I even get weepy sometimes at the oh so predictable ending of a Hallmark movie. This emotional remembrance started when my wife and I watched a very moving piece on 60 Minutes Sunday night about the 433 firefighters killed that day, and I’m embarrassed to admit it’s the first time I’ve thought about one of my very best friends who is a retired firefighter. I know without a doubt that if he could have gotten himself to New York that day he would have been one of those who died trying to reach the people trapped over 80 floors up in the towers. I can’t imagine what my life would have been like these last 22 years if I had lost his friendship.
And then I read a post from a retired American Airlines pilot who was in the air that day enroute from Venezuela to JFK. He was diverted to Miami but not given any reason for the diversion. Being a recently retired Air Force pilot he knew something awful was happening but had no idea how awful.
His moving account of how he couldn’t reach his wife or kids to let them know he was ok brought me to tears, and I have a renewed sense of empathy for what so many people who were directly affected by that tragedy in all 3 locations went and are still going through. Grief has no expiration date.
Unfortunately there also doesn’t seem to be any statute of limitations on the hate and paranoia that rose up out of the ashes of ground zero, the Pentagon, or Shanksville, PA. Every time I hear or see the phrase “Never Forget” in relation to 9/11 I cringe a bit. I understand never forgetting the pain and grief from losing a loved one in such a God awful way. I have buried enough friends, colleagues, and loved ones to know that memories never die, but to lose someone so suddenly and never have the closure of saying good bye or even having any remains to bury is truly more than I can imagine.
But here’s the part of “Never Forget” that troubles me, and it did almost immediately after the initial shock and disbelief of that unbelievable day began to wear off. I know exactly what I felt because I have it in writing and proclaimed it publicly in a sermon on September 21, 2001. That sermon is the only one I ever preached that people remembered years later. The message I felt compelled to share that day was based on the text from the Sermon on the Mount about loving our enemies. I say compelled because I didn’t want to say that while the wounds of 9/11 were so raw and the dust hadn’t even settled at Ground Zero. But I knew it needed to be said.
Here’s a part of what God spoke that day through this reluctant prophet. I titled the sermon, “How Can We Ever Do That?”
“But from the very first hours of the tragedy my greatest pain and fear was not for the damage and suffering that occurred on September 11, as unbelievably horrible as it was. My greatest pain and fear has been for the inevitable escalation and perpetuation of violence that I knew these horrible acts would generate in retaliation that will inflict more suffering on more innocent people.
A friend of mine told me just after the attacks that he had forgotten how easy it is to be a Christian in times of peace and prosperity. And he is very right. We turn to God and scripture for comfort and reassurance in times of distress, as well we must and should, but some of the most important words of scripture also challenge us and are hard to hear.
And that’s why I have been engaged in a lovers’ quarrel with Jesus for the last 12 days over what to say this morning. I have tried every trick I know to avoid the difficult words we just heard from the Sermon on the Mount–these words that are high on the list of those we wish Jesus hadn’t said, but they would not let me rest. They have forced themselves into my consciousness over and over again, pleading, demanding, and crying out to be proclaimed.
“You have heard it said…” O, have we ever – all the public opinion polls confirm in spades that those who want revenge are legion, and I include myself in those who are angry. Getting even is a natural human reaction, and we’ve all been there many times this month. “You have heard it said, an eye for and a tooth for a tooth.” Sounds like good advice. In fact, at the time those words were written, they were designed to limit revenge; so victims would not demand two eyes for an eye, or a whole mouthful of teeth for a tooth. But as someone has said, if we follow the eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth philosophy to its logical conclusion, we end up with a world full of blind, toothless people, and the cycle of violence and pain continues forever.
… Jesus says a bit earlier in the Sermon on the Mount, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God.” By whom? Not by their enemies or by most of their peers. Peacemakers, cheek turners, are more often called “yellow” and “coward” or “chicken,” but seldom ever “children of God.” We would much rather go with Moses on this one wouldn’t we, but are we followers of Moses or Jesus?
It is hard to find silver linings in some clouds, but even in tragedy there are some benefits. We see it in extended families that rally around each other when there is a death of illness. And in a similar fashion, the outpouring of patriotic spirit and resolve in the last two weeks has been amazing. One could certainly argue that this tragedy has created a sense of community that has been sorely lacking in our nation for many years. But Jesus asks us to take that sense of community one giant step further–to include even our enemies in the circle of God’s family.
I had a flashback to Jr. Hi youth fellowship this morning. One of those awkward moments when we were circling up to say the benediction at the end of a meeting, and I found myself next to a girl and was afraid I’d get her cooties if I had to hold her hand. And some wonderful adult counselor saw the problem and stepped in between us to close the circle. That’s just what Jesus does when he asks us to love our enemies. When we can’t bring ourselves to take that hand, Jesus steps in and completes the circle.” [The whole sermon, if you would like to read it is archived here in a post from Sept. 11, 2014.]
It was several years after 9/11 that I had an insight about how forgiveness of one’s enemies is possible. When Jesus says from the cross “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do,” (Luke 23:34) notice that he doesn’t say “I forgive them;” but instead asks God to do it. Without getting into sticky issues about the Trinity it seems very possible that being fully human Jesus was in such agony that he couldn’t practice what he had preached. He couldn’t forgive his enemies right at that gruesome moment — but he knew someone who could; and so do we.
We will never forget 9/11/2001, but with God’s help we can forgive. Amen
Oh My God, how can you stand the insanity of gun violence in this country. If you are truly omniscient and know everything then you already know about the headlines I just read detailing four separate mass shootings in four different states this weekend, and my wife told me about another that I haven’t even seen on my news feeds yet. That makes over 470 mass shootings in this country so far in less than 8 months of 2023!! That’s about two every day! It’s so common all this bloodshed doesn’t even make the news most of the time.
I know you want us to love our enemies, Lord, but I have to tell you I am having a hard time with the gun lobby folks who refuse to consider any common sense gun control legislation. They hide their greed behind the second amendment like it is some sacred edict when in fact it was produced over 200 years ago by frightened white men who feared their enslaved persons would rebel like their sisters and brothers did in Haiti a few years earlier.
Why can’t anyone see that we live in a totally different time when all the wrong people can easily get military style assault weapons. And yet we are hamstrung by a law adopted when guns were single shot muzzle loaders. And the only people who could change our antiquated laws are blinded by greed for the campaign contributions for which they have sold their souls. How can they not see the carnage their lust for power is causing?
Please, dear God, break through the denial and ignorance that are killing innocent people at parades, retail stores, and high school football games. Where can anyone go that is safe from an argument or road rage turning into a gun battle? What more can we do to raise this issue above the clamor of the political circus and the genuine tragedies of climate crisis everywhere?
Dear God, we know common sense gun laws work. They have worked here in the past, and they continue to work almost everywhere else in the world. How can we end America’s love affair with fire arms? Are we so frightened that we need deadly weapons to feel secure? If that’s the problem how can we create a just society where there is no need to feel threatened by others? I am in despair, Lord, that such a dream is even possible in our bitterly divided and broken country.
Scripture tells us that with you, Holy One, all things are possible. I want to believe that, God, I really do. Please raise up for us new leaders with the vision and courage to bind up our nation’s wounds and unite us in creating a culture of compassion where fear is no longer the driving force in our lives.
Please call and empower a new generation of visionary leaders who still believe that we can beat our AR-15’s into wind turbines, and turn our disagreements and fear into communities of collaboration. In the name of Jesus, the Prince of Peace, please, oh please hear our prayer. Amen.
“When he (Jesus) came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the Sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him.” (Luke 4:16-17)
All the discussion of country singer Jason Aldean ’s song, “Try That in a Small Town” reminded me of Jesus’ return to preach in the small town where he grew up. I flunked my first sermon in seminary preaching class, but Jesus got a much harsher response to his first message that day in Nazareth. Luke tells us Jesus read from the prophet Isaiah, and that part of his Sabbath was very well received. Verse 11 says, “All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth.”
But then Jesus goes ahead and interprets the text and tells his audience that the good news he brings to the captives, the blind and the oppressed is not just for them but for all of God’s children with examples of how the prophets Elijah and Elisha went specifically to minister to gentiles in Sidon and Syria instead of to those in Israel. And just like that the crowd does a 180 and turns on him. “When they heard this, all in the synagogue were filled with rage.” (Verse 28). And where the Gospels of Mark and Matthew just have Jesus leaving town at that point, Luke adds these words: “They got up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they might hurl him off the cliff. But he passed through the midst of them and went on his way.” (Vss. 29-30)
I did a lot of research in graduate school on such negative reaction to public speaking and wrote a paper I titled “They Shoot Prophets Don’t They?” I had a personal interest in that topic having come of age in the last turbulence in American history which saw the assassinations of the two Kennedy brothers and Dr. King, all within a five year period. In my research, I became impressed with the work of Lawrence Kohlberg on moral development and the role of cognitive dissonance in persuasive communication. To my great pleasure that very research was mentioned by one of my favorite author’s, Father Richard Rohr, in his book, “Everything Belongs,” which I just happened to be listening to on the very day I started thinking about this topic again. I am humbled and thrilled that Fr. Rohr’s use of Kohlberg’s theory of moral development is almost verbatim what I wrote about that research in my Ph.D. dissertation 40 years ago. The application of Kohlberg’s theories about how to effectively communicate with people who have very different moral and ethical values formed the heart of my own theory of preaching which I shared with seminary students in preaching classes over a 20 year period from 1991-2012.
I believe that theory can help us understand and bridge some of the vast divide we are experiencing in our country today. The country song controversy is very illustrative of how volatile and dangerous that divide is and has been throughout American history. I grew up in a small town and can identify with the good, bad, and ugly aspects of what that experience was and still is like. There were many positive aspects to spending the first 20 years of my life in Wapakoneta, Ohio, a small, county-seat town in very rural, very white, and very conservative northwestern Ohio. It was a very safe place where kids were free to roam all over town on our bikes. Everyone knew everyone else; so people looked out for each other’s kids. I am grateful for that age of innocence and the freedom it provided for me to enjoy a carefree childhood and adolescence.
But I am also angry about the flip side of that experience. We didn’t know what we didn’t know about the broader world outside our comfort zone. Our fathers and uncles who were survivors of the Great Depression and/or veterans of World War II certainly knew more than they shared with us about issues of race and political divisions, at least in my family. All I remember being told about why there were no people of color in our town is that “we aren’t prejudiced; those people just don’t choose to live here.” It turns out there was good reason for that. I learned many years later that one of my great uncles was a leader in the local chapter of the KKK, and just this week heard from a high school classmate that for some time there was a sign outside our town that said something to the effect “Get Your Black Ass Out of Town Before Dark.” That’s the ugly kind of small town life Aldean certainly alludes to in his song and accompanying video.
One major factor in the political chasm threatening our democracy is the rural-urban divide Aldean sings about. The life experience of small town and rural people in this country is so different from urban life that it is like living in two different countries. I addressed some of that in my post on July 18, “Culture War Games While the Planet Burns,” but I want to focus here on how to approach that reality in a constructive way. In an oversimplified description, Kohlberg’s theory of moral development I mentioned above is that there are 6 stages of moral development numbered 1-6. Stage 1 is a very self-centered stage we all start out in because that kind of selfishness is necessary for infants to survive. People in stage 1 say what is morally good is whatever is good for me. Stage 6 is the other extreme where morality is defined in a universal way to mean that moral goodness is determined by what is good for everyone and for the whole world/universe. Only people like Jesus, Mohammad, Gandhi, Mother Teresa, and Dr. King ever come close to stage 6.
Most people, and this is just fact, not judgment, never grow beyond a stage 3 or 4 in moral development, and that’s the problem prophets like Jesus have in small towns like Nazareth. Kohlberg’s research found that when there is a gap of 2 stages or greater in moral development between a speaker and an audience there is a major breakdown in communication. That gap creates so much cognitive dissonance, which is the perception of contradictory information and the mental stress it causes, that we consistency-loving humans will do whatever we can to reduce that stress. That often means simply ignoring the one causing the cognitive dissonance or, as the gap widens, arguing, disparaging or insulting the speaker, and ultimately, if the gap is too great either driving the speaker out of town as happens to Jesus, or in the most tragic situations actually killing him or her, which again finally happens to Jesus on the cross.
The major lesson for us Americans right now is to turn down the heat in our political discourse by bridging the gaps in our cultural, moral, worldviews. Kohlberg concludes that we cannot communicate with each other until the gap between us is one stage of moral development or less. In other words a speaker who is a stage 4 trying to communicate with a stage 2 or 3 person must meet that person where he or she is and communicate respectfully with that person in ways that are not threatening to them. We must find common ground to stand on before we can hope to understand one another. For example, all humans have a basic need for what Abraham Maslow calls psychological and physical security and safety. People in small towns and big cities all share that need, and to understand that we all express that need in different ways goes a long way toward bridging our differences on other values and beliefs. And when our feeling of safety is threatened by people who look, act, and think differently than we do, we need to resist the temptation to attack, blame, ridicule, or judge them. The Golden Rule to treat others as we want to be treated is always a good first step in building a bridge or tearing down a wall that separates us from others.
Unfortunately it seems our human instinct is to do just the opposite when confronted with the discomfort of cognitive dissonance. Social media is full of memes these days making fun of small town people and calling each other names instead of trying to understand where others are coming from. We live in very scary times and most of us don’t know how to express that fear. To do so makes us feel vulnerable and cowardly. It’s much easier and more fun to attack those we disagree with, but it only turns up the heat and the fear on both sides.
I had a very simple example of a change of just one word making a huge difference just last week. I try to avoid debates on social media because they are often unproductive and can seem endless in their back and forth nature. I expressed that reluctance to a friend that I felt a need to respond to by saying that I hate “arguing.” Her very helpful response to me was, “This is not an argument, it’s a discussion.” That one shift in perspective moved the conversation from a win-lose situation to a productive exploration of where we could find common ground.
We need more discussion and less arguing, more willingness to meet others where they are in a spirit of understanding. From there we can both learn and grow from each other and help each other move to a higher stage of moral development where we all strive to do what is best for everyone. The alternative is to end up like “The two cats of Kilkenny. Each thought there was one cat too many. So they fought and they fit; they clawed and they bit, until except for their nails and the tips of their tails, instead of two cats there weren’t any.”
Because of multiple life contingencies I have gotten out of the habit of swimming for exercise in recent months. After two years of very faithfully swimming 2 or 3 times per week travel, injury, spring yard work, and other forms of exercise have usurped the time previously devoted to time in the pool. I had forgotten that swimming is more than just physical exercise for me. It is also a form of meditation and solitude that other forms of exercise do not readily offer. So as I have begun to swim again in the last two weeks I have been reminded of those other benefits of time in the water. I had two radically different but essentially similar experiences in my swimming last week and this.
Thanks to Silver Sneakers (a wonderful insurance benefit for seniors) I have memberships at both our local YMCA’s and a private gym with a small pool. Last week I swam at the private gym and literally had the 4-lap pool entirely to myself for the 20 minutes I was there. It was as peaceful and quiet as any place I can imagine. By contrast this week I went to one of our Central Ohio YMCA’s and almost left without swimming. The cool weather we are having this week meant that the outdoor pool at the Y was closed and consequently the shallow end of the indoor pool was filled with a gaggle of elementary age kiddos making a joyful noise to the Lord or to someone!!
Being a devout introvert I was at first put off by all the noise. As I hesitantly walked into the pool area to see if there was even a lap lane available one of the life guards said to me, “Welcome to the party!” He also pointed me to an open lane which was of course right next to the semi-organized chaos in the shallows where brave high school-aged counselors were riding heard on the younger kids. The guard said I might get a stray beach ball in my lane but otherwise said it was all mine.
These two diametrically opposed scenarios turned out to be essentially the same however once I put on my snorkel and began swimming my laps. With my head submerged in the water I was totally alone in silence, repeating the mantras I use to turn my swimming time into one that is also meditation.
Finding time and space for solitude is increasingly difficult in our extroverted and fast-paced, multi-tasking culture. It requires a great deal of discipline to carve out such time and space in most of modern life, but nothing I have found works as well for me as donning a snorkel and submerging myself in the amniotic, baptismal water of a pool or pond. It doesn’t require deep sea diving experience or equipment. My head is never more than a few inches below the surface of the water, but those few inches filter out all the external distractions. And if I can also quiet the inner noise of my worrisome mind I am as close to a mystical peace as I have ever been.
It reminds me of Luke 5:4 where the disciples have been out fishing all night and have nothing to show for their labor. Jesus tells them to “put out into the deep and let down their nets.” Peter argues that they have been there and done that, but if you say so we’ll try again. It’s like Peter is humoring this carpenter. It makes no logical sense, just like swimming a few inches below the water should not silence all the noisy children just a few feet away. But it works. The disciples’ nets are filled to the breaking point because they obeyed, and my initial resistance to the chaos in the pool was transformed by the lifeguard’s positive attitude to reframe the child-like exuberance into an invitation to a party.
Your quiet place may be someplace entirely different than mine, but we all need one where we can “put out into the deep” of the mystery of existence.
I have not posted anything for several weeks as my wife and I were preparing and taking a long trip to Italy and Greece. We have been home a few days now, and below is an email I wrote to a friend who is growing through a rough time. I thought it might be useful to others in similar situations.
Dear beloved child of God, I want to share some thoughts about your concern that you feel abandoned by God. First of all, we’ve all been there. As Frederick Buechner, one of my favorite authors puts it, “Doubt is the ants in pants of faith.” Like our physical muscles, our faith only grows stronger when it is stretched and tested. I guess that’s the “no pain, no gain” school of theology. The first thing that came to mind in my addled jet-lagged brain last night when I heard your concern was Jesus on the cross saying, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” We’ve all been there, including Jesus. By the way, that is a direct quote of Psalm 22:1. 50 of the Psalms are Psalms of lament from people feeling the absence of God’s presence, and those feelings are so common we have a whole book of Lamentations in the Bible.
I know it’s not much comfort to say “misery loves company,” but I share all that to just say it’s all part of the normal human experience, no matter what the prosperity gospel or the toxic positivity proponents tell us. And those periods of loneliness and doubt can seem to last forever. Jesus was tempted in the wilderness 40 days. Elijah hid on Mt. Horeb for 40 days when Jezebel was after him to kill him. The Hebrews wandered around in the desert for 40 years before they got to the Promised Land. The disciples hid out after the resurrection for 50 days before the Holy Spirit came to them. All of those numbers are not exact dates: they just mean it was a damn long time.
One of my favorite Scriptures is in Isaiah 40 where God is assuring the Hebrews in Exile in Babylon that they will be set free. The whole chapter is worth reading, but I find the closing verses very helpful when I’m feeling at the end of my rope:
“Have you not known? Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
The Creator of the ends of the earth.
He does not faint or grow weary;
his understanding is unsearchable.
He gives power to the faint,
and strengthens the powerless.
Even youths will faint and be weary,
and the young will fall exhausted;
but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength,
they shall mount up with wings like eagles,
they shall run and not be weary,
they shall walk and not faint.”
“The song “On Eagles’ Wings” is a great source of inspiration from that scripture.
Sorry if I got preachy, but I mean these words from my heart and hope they help. And one final thought – don’t beat yourself up about what you have done in the past. God understands despair and hopelessness and accepts and forgives all of our weaknesses. We love you, God loves you, and you are never alone.
Paul tells us that suffering produces endurance, which produces character, which produces hope. Even though this winter has been mild I figure having lived through 77 Ohio winters; I should be one of the most hopeful characters in captivity.
Suffering is not my favorite thing about being a Christian. In fact, if we were to do a top 10 list of my favorite things about being a Christian, suffering wouldn’t even be on it. I really identify with the Disciple Peter who argues with Jesus in Mark 8 when Peter tries to talk Jesus out of his need to suffer and die, remember what Jesus says to him – “Get behind me Satan, you re on the side of men not of God?” Pretty harsh reply from Jesus, don’t you think. But if we look more carefully at that story Jesus goes on to say, “take up your cross and follow me…” you see, following requires that we line up behind the leader. Remember those days in elementary school when you lined up to go everywhere, and this leader that we profess to follow, whose name we claim as Christians, makes it clear over and over again that cross bearing is part of what we have signed on for at our baptism.
For Christians, suffering goes with the territory, unless we want to give up the reward for genuine suffering, which is eternal life here and forever. In Romans 8, Paul says, “We suffer with Christ so that we may be glorified with him.” But we still wish it wasn’t so, don’t we? When I first heard a story about a Good Friday cross walk several years ago when the faithful from several churches gathered in Dublin, Ohio for their walk and realized they had no cross with which to walk, I said, “That’ll preach!” Wouldn’t we love to have Easter without the suffering and pain of Good Friday and the Garden of Gethsemane? –the betrayal and denial that break Jesus’ heart long before the executioners break his body?
I would. I am not a fan of the” no pain no gain” school of exercise or theology. If there is an easier way to get in shape than sweating and having sore muscles, I’m all over it. And if someone can find an easy path to salvation, I’ll be the tour guide. But, oops, there’s that nasty verse in the Sermon on the Mount, Mt. 7:13-14 that says the wide easy freeway leads to destruction, and that’s the one without the cross, the one most people choose, because it looks easier and lots more fun in the short run. But when it comes to matters of faith, don’t we want to focus on goals and consequences for eternity, not just for today?
There are different kinds of suffering, and some are easier to explain or to deal with than others. First, and easiest in some ways, is the kind of suffering we bring upon ourselves. Kanye West and Will Smith come to mind as two of this year’s nominees in that category. Or anyone who was injured trying to take a selfie in a dangerous place? You can think of other nominees, less famous ones, perhaps, and if we’re honest we could all be on that list at one time or another.
The difference for most of us is that we aren’t celebrities. Our screw ups usually don’t show up on channel 10 news or in big bold tabloid headlines for the world to read in the checkout line at Kroger’s. But that doesn’t mean they are any less painful or hard to live with. Mistakes have consequences, which mean they usually hurt us and/or other people, and hurting is a form of suffering. We all make bad choices, it goes with our free will that none of us want to give up. We make bad choices that impact our health; we drive when we are distracted by electronic gadgets or when our judgment isn’t 100%; we say things in anger that we regret; we break promises to people we love. We give into worldly pressure to succeed or cut corners, knowing we’re violating our own values, and we may get away with it for awhile, or think we have; but sooner or later, our chickens come home to roost and we suffer.
That kind of suffering is very painful and hard to deal with, in part because we know there’s no one else to blame but ourselves, but at least self-inflicted suffering makes some sense. We can understand where it comes from and why.
The second type of suffering makes less sense to me. It’s been 12 years now, but I still remember the heart-wrenching and horrifying images of the Tsunami in Japan in 2011. Innocent, helpless people, thousands of them, minding their own business one minute who were suddenly swept up in what looked like science fiction movie about the end of the world the next. Or name any mass shooting or the inhumane brutality of Putin’s now year old war on Ukraine. Suffering type number 2 is the kind caused by natural disasters or criminal attacks or lung cancer in someone who has never smoked a cigarette; the kind for which there is no justification or satisfying explanation. Innocent children who are physically or emotionally or sexually abused. Faithful spouses who are cheated on, taken advantage of and left with nothing to sustain life. You get the picture.
This is a good place to clarify what suffering isn’t. Shortly after the 2011 earthquake and tsunami, the governor of Tokyo made a public pronouncement that he believed this disaster was divine retribution on the people of Japan for their greed. This gentleman is a follower of the Shinto religion, and I have no knowledge whatsoever of what Shinto theology is or believes. I do know there are those tempted in most religions to resort to blaming God for things when we can’t figure any other way to justify or explain why bad things happen. Christianity is not exempt from such bad theology, and I remember there were Christian preachers who claimed that hurricane Katrina devastated the gulf coast in 2005 because of the sin and wickedness of the Big Easy.
Please understand, I’m not saying actions don’t have consequences or that sin doesn’t cause suffering – those things are built into the natural order of things. But that does not mean that the loving God I know and worship would kick people when they are down by saying “Gotcha” or “Take that, sinner” over the broken and shattered ruins of a devastated life or city or nation. When we need God’s comfort and strength and presence the very most, in times of tragedy and loss and despair, would God choose that time to teach us a lesson? NO, that is the time that Emmanuel, God with us, carries us and comforts us. When we suffer God is close enough to us to taste the salt of our tears.
Now, I know you can find plenty of places in the Bible where we are told that God punishes sinners with plagues and boils and hell fire and damnation, and we need to deal with that problem head on. Even in our text for today Paul says we need to be saved from the wrath of God. The Bible was written over centuries by lots of different authors who were trying to answer the hardest questions and mysteries of life. Those who experienced God in their suffering as punitive and judgmental wrote about that experience, and almost all of them did so without the benefit of knowing Jesus Christ, who is the best revelation possible for the loving, forgiving, grace-full God we have come to know and love through Jesus.
We need to remind ourselves that the Jews who wrote their Bible, which we call the Old Testament, also knew the loving, merciful side of God, too. That compassionate part of God’s nature had just not come into clear focus for them as it did in the incarnation of God in Jesus’ human form. We sometimes forget that most of our great images of God, like the good shepherd of Psalm 23, or God as a mother hen gathering her chicks about her all come from the Hebrew Scriptures. The essence of Jesus’ teaching, for example the Great Commandments to love God with all one’s heart, soul, strength, and mind, and to love your neighbor as yourself are straight from the book of Deuteronomy.
Paul tells us that suffering produces endurance, character and hope. We can see how these first two kinds of suffering can build endurance and maybe character, but what about hope? We need a third kind of suffering to build Hope, and that is what followers of Jesus do when we voluntarily take on suffering as an act of sacrificial compassion. The reason Christians embrace and even boast about suffering, as Paul describes it, is that com-passion is essential to the Christian faith, and the word “compassion” comes from two Greek words that mean to suffer with. Compassion is the kind of love Jesus came to teach and live. Compassion is the love we feel for neighbors and enemies we don’t even know, simply because we share a common human condition. Compassion is what we feel for the people of Ukraine because we identify and empathize with them and share their suffering as fellow members of the human family. God doesn’t have grandchildren – just children – so our fellow human beings are not cousins once or twice removed, but are all our siblings – brothers and sisters together with Christ.
Compassion is a key to God’s very nature. Why else would God allow Jesus to suffer and die for us while we are yet sinners? When John tells us that God so loved the world that he gave us Jesus – that’s compassion and empathy to the max. God becomes one of us in human form to share our existence, including our suffering.
The cross of Jesus is often misunderstood as a necessary sacrifice or punishment for the sins of the world, but when we experience the cross of Christ as an act of compassion and sacrificial love it is much easier to embrace and to imitate in our own lives. The suffering of the cross for Jesus is an example writ large about how a person of faith handles suffering. Jesus doesn’t repay evil for evil; he doesn’t lash out in violent anger when he is suffering. He continues to live life in harmony with the will of God, bearing the ultimate suffering in love, compassion and forgiveness – staying true to the way of love which is the essence of life and of God. How can we follow Christ’s example and take on the suffering of life with character and hope? Paul says, “Hope does not disappoint us [even in the worst of times] because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.” We can’t do it, but God living in us can.
The cross is both a symbol of suffering and hope, because if Jesus’ life ended on Good Friday, suffering would be the final fate of human kind. Death would define our existence. But hold the phone; we know the rest of this story. “Suffering produces endurance and character and hope, and hope does not disappoint.” For those who don’t give up and leave the ball game when the score looks hopeless, there is good news. We’ll experience that in its fullness in a few weeks on Easter morning, but for those of us fortunate to be post-resurrection people we already know that suffering and death are not the final chapter in our story. Thanks to God’s ultimate, victorious will, we can endure suffering and even embrace it because we know it builds our character and makes us people of hope with Easter in our eyes.
Late tonight (Monday), when I should have been going to bed, I heard about yet another mass shooting in California. Not the one Saturday, but a new one on Monday, at least the fourth in the U.S. in three days. I don’t know what to do with my frustration and anger about this uniquely American problem; so I let my heart pour out to God:
Dear God, as you know the bad news of hate and killing just keeps crashing in on us like a tsunami. Monterrey Park, Baton Rouge, Des Moines, Half Moon Bay-all names added to the shameful litany of American gun violence in just the last 3 days. We humans are violent. We’ve known that since Cain killed Abel, but Cain couldn’t reload and kill dozens of people in a matter of seconds. We are tired of the “guns or people kill people argument.” People with guns kill people, and people with access to weapons of war can kill indiscriminately.
Why, O Lord, do we Americans have more guns than any other nation in the world? Yes, we confess our nation was born in violent revolution, oppression of black humans, and genocide of Native Americans. Gun ownership was carved into our Constitution because Southern slave owners feared their human property would rebel against their cruelty. Give us courage, dear God, to face those harsh truths or we will never stem the red tide of innocent blood that stains our collective soul.
Holy One, the fratricide at Gettysburg, Antietam, Chancellorsville, and Chattanooga didn’t quench the thirst for American violence. And when the gun manufacturers couldn’t sell their deadly wares to the military after the Civil War they cleverly used racism and fear of “others” to market more and more sophisticated weapons to American men eager to prove their manhood and protect their property and loved ones by owning the latest guns.
God, we are so tired of the discomfort that creeps upon us when we are in a crowd of people and begin to look around to see who might be the next gunman! This is no way to live! The gun lobby has purchased the votes of our elected officials so that no common sense gun control legislation can ever see the light of day. In my state and in others people can now carry concealed weapons without a permit! We are regressing instead of addressing our problem.
What will it take, Lord, to bring us to our senses? How many more innocent people will die before we find the courage to put an end to this madness? Why can’t we learn from what other countries have done? American exceptionalism blinds us to the wisdom and experience we need to glean from other cultures and nations!
Lord, we do have a mental health problem, that’s true, but the paranoia, rage, and desperation are more than individual problems. Our whole culture, economy, and system of government is mentally ill and in denial. Wake us up from this nightmare, Holy God. Bring us to our senses so we can stop doing the same thing (nothing) and expecting different results! We obviously don’t have a clue as to how to stop the madness on our own. Bring us humbly to our knees and give us ears to finally hear and obey the voice of the Prince of Peace. In whose holy name we beg for your healing mercy and love. Amen
Peacefully Harsh 