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Archive for the ‘Lenten Reflections 2022’ Category

“Today [March 19] is the Feast of St. Joseph, the righteous man….We find Mary standing under the cross. Seeing his mother and his beloved disciple, John, Jesus says to his mother, ‘Woman, this is your son.’ (John 19:27). About Joseph there is no word. What happened to him? Did he die?… Joseph was a saint! He lived it all in a great hiddenness. Ignored by the Gospel writers and by the early church, he emerges today as a man trusting in God even when there was hardly anything for him to hold on to.”

Henri J. M. Nouwen, Sabbatical Journey: The Diary of His Final Year (New York: Crossroad, 1998), 130, 131.

I write this column as I sit by my dying father-in-law, Don Bodamer. Don has been in declining health in the last several months, but has been able to enjoy meals and TV shows with the family until ten days ago when he refused to eat and began staying in bed. We celebrated his 93rd birthday on March 24. Although he joined us at the dining room table and blew out his candles on the banana pudding that Susan had made for him, he was in no mood to celebrate and ate none of the pudding that day. (The next day, he had a nice bowlful, though, which he liked and which made us feel better.)

Since I have known him, for more than forty years, Don was always the pastor’s right-hand man. Don loved to plan, to research, to lay out options so a decision could be made. If the sanctuary needed to be re-roofed, or the kitchen needed a new dishwasher, or a new church sign needed to be installed, the pastor would call Don. This was in the days before the internet. Don would send for mailings of descriptions and prices, would call to speak with sales reps, would collate all the information, make a neat type-written presentation, and give it to the pastor and the session. This freed the pastor to visit the sick, prepare a sermon, head a meeting, and write a newsletter article. 

Once Don got an idea in his head, he was very persistent. This affected things at church, too. Don’s career at Dupont focused on safety, so if there was a safety issue at the church, Don was on it. Was there a tree close enough to the sanctuary that it could fall on the building with a big wind gust? Don was getting bids to have it removed before anyone else even knew there was a potential problem. Were there too many church door keys floating around the community? Don donated Dupont stock to the church that was to be sold and used to replace all locks with top-of-the-line Sledge locks. At times,I imagine that got to be a bother for the pastor and others in leadership, but I’m sure they all knew Don’s heart and knew that he had the best interests of the church in mind.

Don’s major volunteer work at the church was as the leader of the Ramblers. This was the senior adult group that met monthly for meals and trips. Again, Don used his organizational prowess to discover all the sites within a two-hour drive of Nashville that older adults might enjoy, figure an affordable price per person, make reservations, secure transportation, create sign up sheets, and make sure that everything went smoothly on the day’s event. 

When Don retired from Dupont, he became one of the founders of Fun with Science. FWS was a program offered to local schools by retired Dupont employees. Every Thursday for many years, Don and his team did a 45-minute all-school presentation in some school’s gymnasium. The presentation was part magic show and part explaining why this was not magic at all. It’s science and science is fun and wonderful and you ought to think about giving your life to a career in science! It was evangelism, Dupont-style.

I have many other stories and memories and appreciations of Don, of course. But these came to mind as I read Nouwen’s comments about St. Joseph. Most saints are ordinary people who try to express their love for God and church and community through their unique blend of gifts, personality, and character. They do not make the papers or the news features or the gospels. They do what they do not for flash or splash but because there is a need and someone needs to do something. So, the saint steps up. They are not perfect. They can be overbearing because they have a vision and they have a plan and they want it done right (which is their way). Saints can be frustrating. Maybe that’s why a lot of them were martyrs. 

I sit by the bedside of Saint Donald, an imperfect husband, father, brother, employee, and church member. Imperfect, but wanting to help. This side of heaven, that’s all we can ask for.

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“To the question who was to blame for the tragedy of a man born blind, Jesus replied, Nobody. ‘He was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him.’ We spend a lot of energy wondering who can be blamed for our own or other people’s tragedies….But Jesus doesn’t allow us to solve our own or other people’s problems through blame. The challenge he poses is to discern in the midst of our darkness the light of God. In Jesus’ vision everything, even the greatest tragedy, can become an occasion in which God’s works can be revealed….The whole Hebrew Bible is a story of human tragedies, but when these tragedies are lived and remembered as the context in which God’s unconditional love for the people of Israel is revealed, this story becomes sacred history.”

Henri J. M. Nouwen, Sabbatical Journey: The Diary of His Final Year (New York: Crossroad, 1998), 129.

Problems are usually more complicated than we think. From my comfortable chair in my comfortable house, surfing social media after a big breakfast with plans to take a leisurely trip to have a mountain hike this afternoon, I glance at the news and wonder why those idiot politicians don’t just solve the problems of poverty, equal rights, high gas prices, international warfare, and Daylight Savings Time. “All they have to do is…” There was a recent meme that related to the pandemic and the Ukrainian invasion that read: “And just like that, everyone on Facebook stopped becoming infectious disease experts and became international relations experts.” 

The easiest tactic is to blame the victim and move on. It’s their fault because of some character flaw or sin or irresponsibility or poor judgment or choice of friends or lack of education or, or, or… One problem with this is that the identified stimulus does not lead to consistent results. There is not a clear cause and effect. One person who has an abusive father becomes an abusive father themselves, while another becomes a supportive father. A person who has wonderful, supportive parents becomes an insecure bully. Maybe these are exceptions that prove the rule, but they also prove that blaming the victim (or the victim’s parents in the case of the blind man story) helps no one and actually muddies the water because once blame is assigned then we, the non-victims with resources, feel free to cast judgments based on our perceived worthiness of a victim. Are they deserving of our time, energy, and care? You know, the kind of questions Jesus always asked before he did a healing, exorcism, or resurrection.

Not my nurse friend.

I have a friend whose car was broken into last night. The thief stole her nurse’s bag, probably thinking it was a purse. S/he also took her pistol from her console. The car was parked in her carport. Was the robbery her fault? Oh, and her car door was unlocked. Knowing that, was it her fault? If the thief uses the pistol to commit an armed robbery (or worse), is my friend to blame?  Those will be questions determined by a judge or jury if it comes to that. Judgments must be made, but they should be made by persons with all the facts and evidence.

One problem with blame-casting is that we are oblivious to our part in the blame and to how our attitudes about the victim affect our decisions. For example, in the TEDTalk, “Does Money Make You Mean?”, Dr. Paul Piff shares multiple social experiments that demonstrate how those of us with resources lose empathy and compassion as we gain more wealth and power.

One fun example of an experiment was with college students playing the board game Monopoly. He says,

“We brought in more than 100 pairs of strangers into the lab, and with the flip of a coin, randomly assigned one of the two to be a rich player in a rigged game. They got two times as much money; when they passed Go, they collected twice the salary; and they got to roll both dice instead of one, so they got to move around the board a lot more….One person clearly has a lot more money than the other person, and yet, as the game unfolded, dramatic differences begin to emerge between the two players. The rich player started to move around the board louder, literally smacking the board with the piece as he went around. We were more likely to see signs of dominance and nonverbal displays of power and celebration among the rich players. One of the really interesting and dramatic patterns that we observed begin to emerge was that the rich players actually started to become ruder toward the other person — less and less sensitive to the plight of those poor, poor players, and more and more demonstrative of their material success, more likely to showcase how well they’re doing. At the end of the 15 minutes, we asked the players to talk about their experience during the game. And when the rich players talked about why they had inevitably won in this rigged game of Monopoly, they talked about what they’d done to buy those different properties and earn their success in the game and they became far less attuned to all those different features of the situation — including that flip of a coin — that had randomly gotten them into that privileged position in the first place. And that’s a really, really incredible insight into how the mind makes sense of advantage.”

We see advantages as something we have earned or are entitled to receive. We see disadvantages as something that can be avoided or overcome with enough street smarts, courage, and determination. If you don’t have those qualities, well, too bad. You “deserve” what you get. 

Here is a great lesson plan for a game to lead others through in a classroom setting. Here is the abstract description of the game:

“In Intergroup Monopoly, players begin with unequal amounts of money and are given individualized rules that reflect differing degrees of privilege or disadvantage. For example, a privileged player might receive $350 rather than the standard $200 for passing Go, whereas a disadvantaged player might be permitted to move only half the amount rolled on each turn. During this initial phase of the game, disadvantaged players quite often fall into substantial debt. In a second phase, “equal opportunity” is implemented and all players are permitted to play by normal Monopoly rules. What the players typically discover, however, is that even under conditions of equality, formerly disadvantaged players continue to decline and struggle with debt. This discovery leads to a classroom discussion about how to effectively address the enduring effects of prior group-based disadvantages.”

These games and other life-situation role plays give us insight into how the world works and into how we have many unfounded assumptions about why the world and its victims are so messed up. 

If we can accept that life is random, that can help us have compassion for those who lost the coin flip. If we can accept that we who have resources may be used to bless those who do not have resources, we can experience the joy of watching God work through us as agents of compassion, mercy, and justice. “Thy kingdom come [through us] as it is in Heaven.”

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“In one of Jesus’ stories, a Pharisee, standing by himself, prays to God: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people’ (Luke 18:11)….Somewhere we are always comparing ourselves with others, trying to convince ourselves that we are better off than they are….But this is a very dangerous prayer. It leads from compassion to competition, from competition to rivalry, from rivalry to violence, from violence to war, from war to destruction. It is a prayer that lies all the time, because we are not the difference we try so hard to find. No, but our deepest identity is rooted to where we are like other people – weak, broken, sinful, but sons and daughters of God.”

Henri J. M. Nouwen, Sabbatical Journey: The Diary of His Final Year (New York: Crossroad, 1998), 128.

My sons both went to NC State, the home of the Wolfpack. Susan and I bought football season tickets. We’d go early the day of the game, driving with Wolfpack flags out our windows and NC State magnets on our doors, decked out in NC-red sweatshirts. We’d swing by Bojangles for the Tailgate Special, then go to our designated parking area to set up our small tailgate party. The kids would drop by to eat and catch up. Usually, they’d bring a friend or two. Then they’d leave to get good seats in the student section and we’d clean up, pack up, and head up the hill to the stadium. Our seats were in the endzone. These were the seasons that Russell Wilson was the quarterback. He was a magician, scrambling to escape from the tightest grips of the defense, artfully dodging tacklers as he raced and slid for the first down or finding a man downfield to throw the perfect pass. NC State had some good seasons. Those were exciting games. 

One day, I was in Texas for a national convention. As I was crossing the street from my hotel, a hotel worker in his uniform was crossing the street headed to work. As he approached me, he said, “There’s too much red in this city!” I thought that’s what he said. It didn’t really make sense. I guess he could see that I looked confused, so he tugged on his shirt and pointed to mine. I was wearing an NCSU t-shirt. We both laughed and went on our way. As I walked, I realized, “this is something I’ve missed out on in my life.” It actually felt good to have someone make fun of my shirt, my team.

My Dad liked sports, but our family never had a “team” we pulled for other than the Atlanta Braves because they were the closest professional team around. So, I never experienced the banter of “my team is better than your team.” That whole culture was foreign to me. If I pulled for anybody, it was for Duke – because they had the highest graduation rate of their athletes – or Wake Forest, because it was a Baptist school. I changed allegiance to NCSU because, as I told a friend, since all my green is going to Raleigh, I may as well wear red. I am more of a Wake fan these days, because it is closest and because I go to games with a friend who works there. So, I am fickle when it comes to fan-aticism.That probably irritates the true-blue (or red, or gold…) fan. But when I am in Rome, I pull for the Romans.

I suppose these memories came to me when I read today’s entry from Nouwen because of his mention of competition and rivalry. I never got into having an across-town rival that we all root against, gagging at the mention of their school name, hanging their mascot in effigy, and pumping up the full gym at a pep rally. None of that is “evil.” It’s just something I’m not into.

Thats me, first row, third from the right.

I am not against sports. I played soccer for my college. I liked hearing the cheers from fellow students on the sidelines. There were cheerleaders, too, which I thought was funny. It’s a hard sport to cheer because the action is so much faster than American football. By the time they could cheer “DE-fense!” the ball was in our play, and in the opponent’s play, and back in ours.  

One school we played really hated us, though. Or maybe they hated any team that set foot on their pitch. Students from this “Christian school” made the vilest comments, some couched in religious lingo. One of our players had long hair. “Your pony-tail is going to burn in Hell with the rest of you!” one person shouted in an unsuccessful attempt at evangelism. One of our players was assumed by the opposing crowd to be homosexual. I don’t know how you can tell a person’s sexual identity by the way they dribble the ball or do a backflip after making a goal, but the crowd felt they had that gift of discernment and again taunted a teammate with threats of eternal damnation. 

It was strange – here we were, two Christian college teams that ultimately are hopefully “on the same team” as followers of Jesus Christ, but the competition turned to rivalry and the rivalry turned to vocalized violence. As a matter of fact (or faith), “we are not the difference we try so hard to find. No, but our deepest identity is rooted where we are like other people – weak, broken, sinful, but sons and daughters of God.”

Competition can be good – good for business, good for teamwork, good for good-natured picking on a friend (or a stranger on the street). Like all good things, however, competition has a shadow side. 

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“The distinction between contemplation and action can be misleading. Jesus’ actions flowed from interior communion with God. His presence was healing, and it changed the world. In a sense he didn’t do anything! ‘Everyone who touched him was healed’ (Matthew 6:56).”

Henri J. M. Nouwen, Sabbatical Journey: The Diary of His Final Year (New York: Crossroad, 1998), 73, 117.

Today’s Nouwen reading confirmed for me thoughts I expressed in a response to a tweet. First, the tweet by Kat Armas that really bugged me:

Jesus didn’t ask to be let in to people’s hearts; he told them to follow him—dedicating his life to the most vulnerable in society. Following Jesus wasn’t a call to a private piety disconnected from society. Following Jesus was relational, social, and it involved justice.

I do not know Kat Armas. I just looked up her website. It seems she is a great person with a strong writing ministry. According to her website, she focuses on “the intersection of women, decolonialism, the Bible, and Cuban identity.” That is something I could learn from her. This tweet may not be representative of her thought or ministry. Still, here are three reasons her post bugged me:

  1. When people say, “the Bible never says,” or “Jesus never said,” I sometimes wonder if they’ve read the whole Bible or listened to all the words we have of Jesus. Because the Bible has some great things to say and some awful things to say. Jesus has some heart-warming things, some soul-confusing things, and some things that we in the church still aren’t sure he meant. 
  2. The fact is, sometimes the Bible/Jesus doesn’t say something exactly. That does not mean that the Bible/Jesus doesn’t say it. Jesus doesn’t say anything about dropping bombs on innocent people, but he does say don’t live by the sword. Sword/bomb. Different weapons of mass destruction. Jesus doesn’t mention a weapon that was created in the twentieth century, but that doesn’t mean he is okay with us using it.
  3. Sometimes the Bible/Jesus does say something, but the contemporary speaker/writer wants to make a hyperbolic point, so to say that the Bible/Jesus says nothing about a topic is a rhetorical device that seems to give the speaker’s words more authority.

That third category is what we have in this tweet,I believe. The writer wants to emphasize that Jesus did good works for poor and needy and sick people, and that Jesus’ followers should do the same. That is true. But it is not the whole truth.

I responded to the post with: It’s both/and. Jesus did say, “Abide with me…without me you can do nothing.” So “doing things” without first meeting with Jesus “in your heart” is an unhealthy spirituality. To say Jesus is either in your heart or in your actions is a false dichotomy.

Today, as I’ve given this more thought, other Bible passages besides John 15, referred to in my response above, have occurred to me. 

There was a time that the disciples could not heal a child (Mark 9). Jesus told them that this kind of healing was not a run-of-the-mill miracle. “After Jesus and the disciples had gone back home and were alone, they asked him, ‘Why couldn’t we force out that demon?’ Jesus answered, ‘Only prayer can force out this kind of demon.’” (Other, more recent manuscripts say “prayer and fasting.”) Internal, intentional retreat and abstinence. These spiritual exercises in the private gymnasium of piety were required to perform extraordinary public feats of facing evil headlong.

In Revelation 3:20, Jesus says, “Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me.” Of course, we do not take this literally, that there is a door to our heart and that Jesus wants “to come into your  heart.” But the truth behind the image is that Jesus invites us to spend time with God, to be nurtured by God, to have a growing relationship with God. As we sit and eat with someone, we talk about our dreams, fears, hopes, experiences, family, funny things and sad things – we invite that person into our lives and we enter their life as they share their stories with us. Soon, we discover that we like each other. We decide to do more than eat and talk together. Let’s work together! In Paul’s words, we become “co-workers with Christ.” (1 Cor. 3:9)

There are also stories and scriptures about people who wanted to do the works without doing the abiding first. 

In Acts 8 (NIV), a magician named Simon becomes a follower of Jesus. He sees Peter lay hands on new believers who then are filled with the Holy Spirit. Simon offers to pay for this power. If there is a problem that money cannot solve, Simon hasn’t met it. Peter responds harshly to Simon, however, because Simon does not have the piety before the power: “May your money perish with you, because you thought you could buy the gift of God with money!  You have no part or share in this ministry, because your heart is not right before God.  Repent of this wickedness and pray to the Lord in the hope that he may forgive you for having such a thought in your heart.  For I see that you are full of bitterness and captive to sin.” 

Of course, a spiritual life that is only contemplation, that births no action, is a stillborn faith. “Anyone who doesn’t breathe is dead, and faith that doesn’t do anything is just as dead!” (James 4:26 CEV) 

The point is, both contemplation and action. Contemplation leads to action. Action becomes fodder for contemplation. One without the other is unscriptural, unChristlike, and unbalanced.

I purchased a coffee mug at a Benedictine monastery’s gift shop. It has the Latin phrase that is the Trappist monk’s “mantra,” “Ora et Labora.” Prayer and Work. That is a cup I can drink from.

Image credits: Cup – Rick Jordan; Bible with cup – Image by StockSnap from Pixabay; Louis Tiffany stained glass – Kent G. Becker

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“Why should I ever think or say something that is not love? Why should I ever hold a grudge, feel hared or jealousy, act suspicious? Why not always give and forgive, encourage and empower, give thanks and offer praise? Why not? … Somehow we don’t fully trust that our God is a God of the present and speaks to us where we are. ‘This is the day the Lord has made.’ When the people of Nineveh heard Jonah speak, they turned back to God. Can we listen to the word God has for us today and do the same? This is a very simple but crucial message: Don’t wait for tomorrow to change your heart. This is the favorable time!”

Henri J. M. Nouwen, Sabbatical Journey: The Diary of His Final Year (New York: Crossroad, 1998), 73, 117.

In my junior high years I read The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin. What I remember most was his attempt to better himself in an intentional, methodical way. He drew up a list of virtues and decided to work on them one by one until he was satisfied that he could incarnate those virtues. He explained his detailed plan to work on one of thirteen virtues each week, keeping a chart that he would mark at the end of each day if he remembered a fault he’d committed with that particular virtue. At the end of thirteen weeks, he began the exercise again. I did not try to do as Franklin did, but the record of his attempt had a great effect on me in my adolescent years.  What if we could improve our lives by being intentional in noticing and noting our successes and failures in our ethical and spiritual lives?

I have not thought about Franklin’s book or that practice for many, many years until today’s reading from Henri Nouwen. Nouwen challenges us to change for the better and not to put off changing. “This is the favorable time!”

A few years ago, my peer learning group (PLG) decided to read David G. Benner’s book, The Gift of Being Yourself: The Sacred Call to Self-Discovery. We took up Benner’s challenge to focus on an area of personal growth that we would address. Each of us in the PLG pondered our lives based on some self-discovery exercises in the book and prayed about what area of life the Spirit was impressing us to address. I felt that mine was generosity. I’ve always considered it to be a personal strength for a person to be frugal. Benner points out that there is a shadow side to every virtue. As I pondered this, I wondered if my strength of frugality had drifted into being a miserly hoarder. 

I created my plan. I would read Richard Foster’s book, Money, Sex, and Power as well as read/ponder Bible passages that dealt with generosity. My goal was to build the virtue of generosity so that my first instinct was not to hold but to share. My exercise would be to give my hard-earned, well-invested money away. Not all of it, of course. But, more than I normally did. 

This required a discussion with my wife since this money is “ours” not just “mine.” I told Susan that I wanted to become a more generous person, explained my plan and my exercise. Frankly, we were already generous compared to the giving patterns of most Americans. But our typical giving no longer felt “generous” to me. I wanted to be a cheerful, generous giver financially, but also emotionally. This would be a concentrated focus for three months. I would share my findings and failings with the peer learning group at our monthly meeting. Susan liked the plan. 

I should also say, to her credit, that Susan keeps our books and that this plan made no sense financially. My pay had been cut by 20% with the promise that it would be cut by another 20% the next year. We had every reason to keep all we had and, if anything, reduce our donations. But I felt that this was the area of my personal life that God’s Spirit was challenging me to change. So, we decided to trust God, follow what I felt was a God-led plan, and see what happened.

Now, before I share the next part of the plan, let me say to those who are friends of mine in the non-profit world that the exercise I am about to describe ended years ago. I am not currently doing this plan. 

What I decided to do for the three months was to give to anyone who asked and to be more generous than was asked. There was a special need at the church. I asked Susan how much she thought a generous response from us would be. She said fifty dollars. So, I said, “let’s give $150 dollars.” When I got requests from non-profits by mail or email, I gave them a gift that was more than I normally would have given. I did this over and over again and turned no one down.

Richard Foster said that the spiritual need is for a Christian to let money know that it does not have power over us. We have power over it. So the giving away of money was an exercise to strengthen my dependence on God. 

I don’t think I have a love of money. I have a love of security. Money promises security. So does God. In which deity am I putting my trust? 

Image Credits – $100 Ben Franklin: Wikimedia Commons; Calculator – Image by fancycrave1 from Pixabay

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“Adam and Eve were tempted to be like God. Jesus was tempted to deny his divine Sonship. When we act as if we are God, we cause war, but when we act as God’s beloved children, we create peace. When we acknowledge God as our creator and Lord, we open ourselves to the news of Jesus that indeed we are God’s children, eternally beloved, destined for  life eternal….When Adam and Eve do eat from the tree, the storyteller says, ‘Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew they were naked’ (Gen 3:5-7). But Jesus  came to open our eyes to the deeper truth that, even though we are sinners, we are still God’s beloved children. ‘Blessed are your eyes because they see,’ he says (Mt 13:16).”

Henri J. M. Nouwen, Sabbatical Journey: The Diary of His Final Year (New York: Crossroad, 1998), 115.

This is one of those passages that would have driven me to frustration in my fundamentalist days. I had a wooden, literalist view of the Bible. For example, I would have insisted that God telling Jesus at his baptism, “You are my beloved son in whom I am well pleased” doesn’t mean this is true of every person. That was surely a message for the only begotten Son of God, not for anyone else. 

It was not until late in my seminary training that I had a willingness to accept a broader, more flexible understanding of the relationship we have with God. It was in a class on “The Salvation and Nurture of the Child” that our professor, Temp Sparkman, pointed out that every person is made in the image of God. Some people rebel and remain rebellious. They reject their God-given identity. Other people choose to accept the identity. All are children of God, because we all have God’s image within us. Some people accept that truth, as well as the truth that the image is distorted because of our sin that warps the mirror. Other people deny any relationship with God. Some of these even love the distortion more than the intention. 

It was at this time, the early 1980s, that the fundamentalist were taking over the Southern Baptist Convention and all of her institutions and agencies. Although my seminary was a small fish in a big pond, the locals looked for opportunities to gain fame by attacking the professors of our school. One way they did this was to misrepresent what was being taught. “Students” went so far as to sit in classes, record the lectures, then re-mix the recordings so that what was heard was not what was said. These misleading recordings were then played in local churches, and as intended, did mislead others into thinking that what was being taught to our potential ministers was liberal (meaning “unbelieving, evil, dangerous”). 

Others would interview the more conservative students who were happy to be in print attacking their teachers. Others would take a professor’s book and “review” it by taking sentences out of context. Dr. Sparkman’s book which taught that all persons were created in the image of God and therefore were children of God was attacked as a tract for universalism. The parts about choosing to be rebellious or to be redeemed were left out of any review. It was a distortion. It was a sin. The review was propaganda, warning about the disastrous slippery slope our pre-preachers were being seduced into following. 

The thing about fundamentalism is that the ends justify the means. Lies, white lies, character assassinations, rewarding bullies, elevating the spiritually weakest players – whatever it took to root out perceived evil was unfortunate but necessary. It was McCarthyism in the Baptist world, driven by fear more than by truth. It was fueled by an unquenchable hunger for power and recognition. That was one of the temptations Jesus also met – “demean yourself to use the powers of evil and you can have it all.”. Thank God, he overcame it.

I was furious with the fundamentalists’ tactics. I was embarrassed to think that I had once been in that crowd. Without my regular interaction with ethical, godly and wise seminary professors, I might have been one of those pushing record on the cassette player. But I had changed.

My ultimate break with the fundamentalists came when they passed a resolution at the SBC meeting saying that women were not worthy to serve as pastors because it was a woman who brought sin into the world – “because man was first in creation and woman was first in the Edenic fall.” 

Of course, it was both Adam and Eve who rebelled against God. As Nouwen points out, they were tempted to be like God. There is no record of Adam saying, “I dunno Eve. Maybe we should be happy being human.” Once they sinned, their relationship with God was shattered as was their relationship with one another. Adam and Eve no longer saw each other as beloved siblings and children of God, but as co-conspirators and as mutual blamers. Jesus came to bridge those rifts and to heal those wounds.

Nouwen concludes by quoting Jesus’ words in Matthew 13. I had to look them up to remember the context. The disciples are asking Jesus why he speaks with parables which can make it “hard to see” what Jesus is saying. Jesus agrees, but insists that those who seek truth will listen and will see. Then, Jesus tells his disciples, “Blessed are your eyes, for they see, and your ears, for they hear. Truly I tell you, many prophets and righteous people longed to see what you see, but did not see it, and to hear what you hear, but did not hear it.” 

Jesus offers a “deeper truth” than even the prophets and the ancient righteous people could imagine: You are beloved children of God. Let that truth guide your short life.

Image credits: William Strang’s The Temptation – https://artuk.org/; Joseph McCarthy – National Portrait Gallery, public domain;

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“Absence and presence touch each other. Precisely where we feel most present to each other we experience deeply the absence of those we love. And precisely at moments of great loss we can discover a new sense of closeness and intimacy. This is also what the Eucharist is about. We announce the presence of Christ among us until he comes again! There is both presence and absence, closeness and distance, an experience of at-homeness on the way home. I was struck again by the paradox that loving someone deeply means opening yourself to the pain of his or her absence.”

Henri J. M. Nouwen, Sabbatical Journey: The Diary of His Final Year (New York: Crossroad, 1998), 114.

Every year near the end of January and near the end of March, I realize that I am feeling down. When I realize that I am in a funk, it takes little reflection to understand why. I miss Mom and Dad. My mom died on January 21, 2015, and my dad died on April 1, 2013.  This year, I’ve been reminded of this regularly through Facebook’s “on this date” feature that takes you to the post you made that day in prior years. For example, today’s was:

“Dad seems to be getting weaker in his breathing. He is receiving ‘comfort care’ so there are no monitors and no vital sign checks. He looks very relaxed. Of course, there is no way to know if he is aware of his situation or our presence, but we treat him as if he is, just in case. At the suggestion of my son, Ben, I read several chapters of the Bible aloud (and loudly) to Dad, including John 14, Romans 8, and Revelation 21-22. Those words helped me and, I believe, helped Dad to prepare for the end of this life. Tomorrow is Easter… and Dad’s 77th birthday.”

I think of Mom and Dad a lot, but especially when the siblings get together. “Mom and Dad would be pleased to know that we all still love each other and love to be with one another,” I think. Then, there are milestones. When my first poem was published, I really wished Mom, who had many songs and poems of her own published, could have known. When we moved into a new house that we had built to our specifications, I wished Dad, who was wheelchair-bound, could have been here to celebrate with us and to use the elevator so he could see each floor. When our first grandchild was born, I wish they could have held their latest great-grandchild.

There is hope that loved ones who have died can somehow know what is going on in our lives. One of my sisters told me that every once in a while, she notices a hummingbird is looking into her house from the kitchen window. Mom loved hummingbirds. So, my sister sees this as a sign that Mom is “just checking in.” Not that Mom was reincarnated as a hummingbird, although that may have been a close second choice to her were there not a Heaven. After my sister told me that, I went home to work in my garden. I heard a loud buzzing above me. I looked up and it was a ruby-throated hummingbird hovering over the green bean plants I was weeding. I had to laugh as I said, “Hey there! Tell Mom everything is good.”

I think this is the paradox that Nouwen has discovered. We are separated from a loved one, yet we sense their presence. In our sorrow, we find ways to celebrate their gain. We mourn their absence even as we celebrate new victories. I suppose that the more persons that you lose, the more real this paradox becomes. 

“Lent is a time to get in touch with our experience of absence, emptiness, unfulfillment, so that in the midst of our overcrowded lives we can remind ourselves that we are still waiting for the One who has promised to fulfill our deepest desires.”

Henri J. M. Nouwen, Sabbatical Journey: The Diary of His Final Year (New York: Crossroad, 1998), 114.
Image credits: Mom and Dad – me; Hummingbird – Image by YLawrence from Pixabay

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“When you can say to Jesus, ‘You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God,’ Jesus can say to you, ‘You are the rock on whom I will build my church.’ There is a mutuality of recognition and mutuality of truth here. When we can acknowledge that God has come among us through the Messiah – his anointed one – to free us from our captivity, God can point to our solid core and make us the foundation for a community of faith…It is sad that the dialogue between Jesus and Simon Peter has, in my church, been almost exclusively used to explain the role of the papacy. By doing so, it seems to me that we miss seeing that this exchange is for all of us. We all have to confess our need for salvation, and we all have to accept our solid center.”

 Henri J. M. Nouwen, Sabbatical Journey: The Diary of His Final Year (New York: Crossroad, 1998), 113.

“Who do people say that I am?” is how Jesus began this conversation. If Peter had been a therapist, he would have responded, “Is it important to you what other people say about you? Tell me more about that.” If Peter had been a political consultant, he would have responded, “Don’t worry, your numbers are trending up among the majority. Our biggest problem is with people that matter – those who have power and pocketbooks.” If Peter had been a life coach, he would have replied, “Who do you want people to say you are? How can you get to that point?”

Peter was a businessman, however, who knew the importance of word of mouth. So, Jesus asks his disciples, “what’s the talk on the street?” These days, a marketer could check social media hits and check stats/insights on Jesus’ blog. Has he reached the point of being a certified influencer? What do the polls say about his popularity? More popular than Caesar, but less than Barabbas? 

The disciples tell Jesus what is being said about him. I wish I could have been there to see Jesus’ face as they went through the list. When they mention John the Baptist, Jesus’ cousin who had recently been beheaded by Herod’s order, did Jesus wince? When they say Elijah, the prophet that was to visit Israel again before the Messiah appeared, did Jesus grin? When they said “Jeremiah or one of the other prophets” did he roll those holy brown eyes?  Or did Jesus keep a poker face? 

Then, I imagine there was a pause as Jesus waits for one of his disciples to offer commentary. Surely someone has an opinion piece welling up within them? Jesus waits. But the disciples had just embarrassed themselves by forgetting to bring bread for this trip and had just been chided by Jesus as “you of little faith.” The best prevention from further embarrassment and criticism was to stare at one’s dusty sandals. No one even clears their throat.

Jesus speaks next, “And who do you say that I am?” Peter accepts the challenge and responds, “You are the Messiah, the son of the living God.” Did the other disciples gasp and stare at their fingernails? Did they nod unanimously in agreement? Did one pipe up, “Who’s up for a bread run?” However awkwardly they may have felt, Jesus was impressed with Peter’s response.

Then Jesus says something that has been confusing his followers since he said it. “On this rock, I will build my church.” It’s confusing on so many levels. Was he speaking to Peter or to all of his disciples or even to all who would ever be his followers? What is the “this rock?”  Is it  the man, Simon Peter? Is it the confession that Peter just offered? Is it the lineage of popes through apostolic succession? Is it a particular church or is it the universal Church? Modern scholars also point out that Jesus only said the word  “church” twice and it was before there was such a thing as an institutional church. So did later church leaders put this word in Jesus’ mouth to bolster their authority? Or, should we look at the root of the word used for church which means a gathering of people? 

Nouwen argues against the traditional Roman Catholic institutional church to say that this teaching is not limited to the apostles and those who became ordained church leaders. The teaching is for all followers of Jesus, ancient and modern. The teaching is not about authority but community. 

Without us, Jesus cannot construct a church. A fellowship requires fellows. 

There are some religious leaders that are obsessed with making the circle of faith tighter and tighter. Their standards of belief and behavior are built with brick walls of exclusivity. The closer one is to God, the more restrictive the beliefs and behaviors must be. A marriage covenant is a positive image for this group. In a wedding ceremony, you pledge to love this one person in the deepest ways exclusively and until the end of your life.

There are other religious leaders who are intent on making the circle of faith community larger and larger. There are usually core beliefs that the encircled are expected to affirm, such as “there is a God” and “God is love.” There are a very limited number of essential beliefs. Other than these, the community may have a wide representation of beliefs and behaviors.  A support group is a positive image for this type of Christian community. A support group has certain commitments such as confidentiality and may have a structure to encourage activity and boundaries (such as Twelve Steps in Alcoholics Anonymous). Once there is an agreement to this, you’re in.

Jesus makes statements that both groups quote to prove that they are built on his teachings for their foundations. Jesus does offer some exclusive statements, including the active exclusion of those who are pursuing evil, for example. And Jesus does offer some inclusive teachings, going so far as to tell his disciples that he has followers that they know nothing about.

We might wish Jesus were more consistent. We might wish that Jesus explained the one, God-ordained way that his followers should organize, worship, baptize, evangelize and otherwise “do church.” Doing church could have been so much easier. Instead, Jesus gives us a broad-spectrum “weed and feed” fertilizer treatment: get together, love one another, discern God’s will about how your community can best demonstrate God’s love for the world. Be in the world, but not of it. Die for your friends and love your enemies. 

Jesus gave us stones and mortar and timber and shingles and said, “build my church.” Whether it is an open concept or a closed one seems to be up to us.

Image credits: Jesus statue – Photo by Arturo Rey on Unsplash; Church in Sedona – Image by D Jackson from Pixabay;

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“Kathy called to tell me that Adam had had a severe setback…Shortly afterwards I talked with Nathan, and I realized that Adam was dying…Adam is one of the men who introduced me to the community of L’Arche Daybreak and led me into a whole spirituality of weakness which has transformed my life…[He] has profoundly influenced my prayer, my sense of myself, my spirituality, and my ministry. Adam, the man who suffers from severe epilepsy, and whose life has seemingly been limited because of his many disabilities, has touched the lives of hundreds… Adam didn’t need a eulogy. His simple, hidden life had no impressive curriculum vitae. But Adam deserved to be praised for the miracles he had worked in our hearts… I’ve come to see with a clarity I never had before that Adam was the living Christ among us. Where else did we have to go to be with the man of sorrow and the man of joy? Where else did we have to look for the presence of God?”

 Henri J. M. Nouwen, Sabbatical Journey: The Diary of His Final Year (New York: Crossroad, 1998), 103, 109.

“A spirituality of weakness” is not a particularly Anglo-American, middle-class, highly-educated, upwardly mobile description of a good Christian’s faith journey. We love the success stories of rags to riches, Davids beat Goliaths, and  “I once was blind, but now I see” conversions. 

However, when you scratch beneath the surface of even the most successful person, you will discover stories and fears that relate to personal weakness. “Impostor syndrome” disturbs even the most successful of those who feel they are not really who they seem to be. An overachiever realizes they are working so hard to win the respect of a parent who died years ago. A couple who “has it all” declare bankruptcy due to a sudden downturn in their small business. The brightest and the best of us has a story of their personal weakness.

Some persons find ways to treasure that weakness. A friend who has a child with Downs recently posted on Facebook how they “almost feel sorry for parents who have merely perfect children. They have missed out on so much.” I read an article spotlighting the new school superintendent of our county. She has a daughter who worked her way through the public school system and is now a college graduate. She also has a special needs child. Parents in our county are blessed to have a superintendent who is very aware of the needed resources for these “weak” children. Too often, they are forgotten or neglected.

How powerful is God? For years, I have struggled with the idea of an omnipotent God. If omnipotence means all-powerful, undefeatable, all-mighty -then this is an incomplete image of the God of the Bible. Over and over and over again, God risks sharing power in spite of the whims of human beings, for example. 

An omnipotent God does not need to show grace to the rebellious Adam and Eve. An omnipotent God does not need to make covenants with Abraham, Moses, or David. An omnipotent God does not need to come to earth incarnate, particularly as a baby born to a politically and economically powerless couple. An omnipotent God does not watch idly as that boy grows to be a man who is unjustly tried, convicted, and executed. 

No, in all these stories and in so many others, God is absolutely not omnipotent. I suppose it could be argued that God really is omnipotent but chooses to display weakness and then theories could be debated about why God would do that. Indeed, in the early church there was one faith group called the docetists that tried that. Docetism comes from the Greek word translated “to seem.” They argued that Jesus “seemed” to be human but was actually divine, and since the divine can’t die, Jesus only “seemed” to die on the cross. 

Neat trick, huh? Fool humans into thinking that you, as omnipotent God, are really just like them, so they will be deceived into submitting to your sovereignty. That sounds like a slick politician saying whatever is necessary to be elected, a con-artist selling snake oil, a spouse abusing trust. That’s not the God I read about in the Bible. That’s not the God I believe in.

Instead, my God incarnates vulnerability. My God invites imperfect people to be influential partners with power that is not hoarded by God but offered liberally.

Was God omnipotent before the creation of the  “images of God?” I think that is possible. Once we came along, though, God gave us power – to name animals, to bless all persons, to fight evil, to make decisions and act on them. If God gave us such power, then by definition God is not all-powerful. For examples of who God is, let us not look to those who grasp for more and more power. Let us look to those who aim to use whatever power they have to benefit others. 

Would one worship so weak a God? If weakness is like a mother teaching her daughter to drive, like a master craftsman teaching his apprentice the creative arts, like a national ruler that insists that women have the same access as men to education, medical decisions, and fair pay – well, that is the God I can worship.

Image credits: Muscles – Image by Schäferle from Pixabay; Lightning – Image by Ron Rev Fenomeno from Pixabay; teen driver – Photo by Fabian Albert on Unsplash

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“A difficult day again. I feel lonely, depressed, and unmotivated. Most of the day I have been fiddling around with little things. The same old pain that has been with me for many years and never seems to go completely away…I realize that my busyness is a way to keep my depression at bay, It doesn’t work. I have to pray more. I know that I need to just sit in God’s presence and show God all my darkness. But everything in me rebels against that. Still, I know it is the only way out. A few kind letters gave me a little light. God help me, be with me, console me, and take the cloud away from my heart.”

 Henri J. M. Nouwen, Sabbatical Journey: The Diary of His Final Year (New York: Crossroad, 1998), 101.

Everyone, including me, feels down sometimes. I’ve had some sad situations lately and am anticipating more. In the last few weeks, I have lost to death my last two aunts. I didn’t go to a recent meeting because I did not want to feel the grief at what had been and will never be again for me in that organization. In this early retirement during a pandemic as my wife and I care for her elderly, ailing parents, I grieve not being free to travel, to have people over, to lead workshops and speak for conferences. I am also anticipating grief. My Alzheimer-stricken father-in-law, who has lived with us for the last four years, seems to be nearing the end of his life. My mother-in-law, who is bi-polar, will likely respond to his death in an unpredictable but overwhelming way. These are examples of situational grief or depression that are common to all of us.

I have not experienced clinical depression. I am learning from those who have. One of my friends, Diana Gruver, has written about her experience in her recent book, Companions in the Darkness. I did a video interview with Diana and also reviewed her book. Much of the following is taken from my other blog on the Great Bible Teachers website.

Here is how Diana describes her experience:

“Some people think depression is sadness. But it is deeper than that. The feeling of clearly defined and attributable sadness would be a relief. Instead I am overcome with too much feeling, awash with a vague, gnawing sorrow. I weep and writhe under its weight, and then in a terrifying turn, I feel so much that I feel nothing at all. I am still and numb. I would welcome sadness, for then I would know I am still alive. As it is, I am the walking dead.”

Diana Gruver, Companions in the Darkness: Seven Saints Who Struggled with Depression and Doubt (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2020), 5.

You might think, “that’s not how a Christian should feel.” I am reminded of the hymn, Alas, and Did My Savior Bleed: “At the cross where I first saw the Light and the burden of my soul rolled away. It was there by faith I received my sight, and now I am happy all the day.” 

Is that real faith? Were the disciples “happy all the day?” Or is real faith more like the book of Psalms, one third of which are lamentations?

But again, unhappiness is not quite depression. Depression is a clinical illness. It is tied to our spiritual life, as is every part of our life. Diana says, “we cannot classify depression as a solely spiritual issue, with solely spiritual causes and a solely spiritual cure.” (p.46f.)

Depression, quite naturally, affects our spiritual life. Diana weaves her personal story within the narratives of seven saints. For example, in her chapter on David Brainerd, she writes,

“I can relate to Brainerd’s feelings. I remember the sense of God’s absence, the silence of heaven, the seeming futility of spiritual exercises… If depression affected my relationship with the friends and loved ones I could physically hear and touch, why wouldn’t I expect it to affect my relationship with God, whom I could not physically hear and touch? It didn’t mean he had left or changed, but only that depression’s dark lens affected the way I perceived him and my ability to feel close to him – just as it did to any other relationship… A devoted religious life is not a mental health insurance policy.”

Diana Gruver, Companions in the Darkness: Seven Saints Who Struggled with Depression and Doubt (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2020), 57.

Diana offers practical advice in her book. Pointing to seven heroes of the Christian faith who struggled with depression, she helps us walk with solid Christians who feel not so solid. She also helps us know what not to do, what not to say.

She believes these hero-stories will undermine

“the lies that I am failing, that I am a ‘bad Christian,’ that I should be better than this, or that if only I were more faithful or holy or strong this would not be happening to me. Can you imagine the audacity of applying this principle to the brothers and sisters in this book? Of telling Charles Spurgeon to read his Bible more? Or David Brainerd to pray more? Or Mother Teresa to just choose joy? We regard these people as giants of the faith, as ‘saints,’ yet they still struggled with depression…. Sometimes our brains get sick just as our bodies do. Their lives bear witness to this truth… They are, for me, models of what it looks like to follow Jesus through depression.” 

Diana Gruver, Companions in the Darkness: Seven Saints Who Struggled with Depression and Doubt (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2020), 14f.
File written by Adobe Photoshop? 4.0

You’ll recognize many of the names, but even if you don’t, Diana does a wonderful job explaining who each person was and what they did that made them heroes of the Christian religion: Martin Luther, Hannah Allen, David Brainerd, William Cowper, Charles Spurgeon, Mother Teresa, and Martin Luther King, Jr.

Each of these persons suffered in ways that were unique to them. Each found different “tools” that helped them find light. Luther resisted solitude and sought ways to “drink, joke, and jest.” Cowper found strength from strong supportive friendships and from poetry. King found release through dark humor, spirituals, and a discovery that while jailed in solitary confinement, “God had been my cellmate.”

I encourage you to get Diana’s book for yourself and for any you know who have depression or who are affected by loved ones who have depression.

And watch the video interview I did with Diana. It is anything but depressing.

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