Introspection: Amazingly Painful Grace

I share these thoughts hoping they are of help to someone else.

Comments are always welcomed.

Amazing(ly) (Painful) Grace

If you judge other people, then you will find that you, too, are being judged.  Indeed, you will be judged by the very standards to which you hold other people.

Matthew 7:1-2 (The Voice)

I've woken now to find myself

In the shadows of all I have created

I'm longing to be lost in You
(Away from this place I have made)

Won't You take me away from me?

Lost in a dying world, I reach for something more
I have grown so weary of this lie I live

From "Away from Me" by Evanescence

We are all on a journey. This journey takes us all in different directions, over hills, through valleys, through forests and deserts, on rocky trails and winding roads.

And at some point on this journey we'll find ourselves face-down on the side of the road with the taste of blood and dust in our mouths, wondering if we'll ever get back on our feet again.

As you can probably infer from my most recent introspections, the past few months haven't exactly been easy for me.  I have been deeply disappointed by people I once admired, and I have been forced to confront parts of myself that I really didn't want to see.  This difficult time has forced me to think a lot about grace and about my own need for grace.  In the midst of all this reflection, I came to a realization:

I don't really want grace.

Why in the world would anyone want grace?  Grace is for the weak.  Grace is for all the people who can't get their act together spiritually.  In this world, you are either part of the problem or part of the solution.  Why would I want to accept that I am accepted when I could just be acceptable?

The truth is that never once in my life have I ever had my act together in any way.  Ask my parents - they can vouch for me.  Even so, I can still pretend that I have it all together.  I can enjoy the experience of having my act together without all the hard work of actually getting it together.  Even if nobody else buys my façade, I can still enjoy the illusion for myself.  Plus, I get to enjoy the perks: from my mountaintop, I get to look down my nose at all the people who don't have their act together like I do.  After all, if I can get it together, then nobody else has any excuse, right?  When someone hurts me, I have the privilege of throwing proverbial stones.  Knowing that I am better than the less evolved lifeform who hurt me makes the pain much easier to bear.¹

There is a danger in judging other people.  Jesus warns us that we judge people at our own risk, for we ourselves will be judged by the same standards by which we judge others.  Notice that Jesus does not say specifically that, if you judge someone else, then God will be the one to hold you accountable to your own standards.  God just might be the merciful one in this matter.  Your judge might be someone with the impudence to call you a hypocrite.  Worse yet, your judge might be your own conscience.  Whatever the details, at some point, your own high horse will throw you off and kick you in the head.

Judging people is dangerous because, someday, you just might end up facing the same difficult decision faced by the person who hurt you.  On that day, you just might find that you don't have any other option but to make the same choice as the person you once condemned.  On that day, you just might find that you are not any better or stronger than that person.  On that day, your cries for justice will become indictments against you.  On that day, the stones you threw at someone else will be lobbed back at you.

On that day, your own judgmentalism will knock you down and beat the crap out of you.

The kind of grace I want least is forgiveness.  One does not need forgiveness unless one has done something that needs to be forgiven.  Why would I want forgiveness when I could just be a good person?  If I do hurt someone, I don't want to be forgiven: I want to take my punishment like a man.

Grace is painful because truly accepting grace means admitting that you actually need it: it means admitting that you actually don't have your act together spiritually.  Grace is especially painful when someone you hurt is more forgiving toward you than you were toward someone who hurt you in the past.  This kind of grace burns like salt rubbed into a fresh wound.  I would much rather endure the wrath of the person I hurt than the wrath of my own conscience.

So here I lie at the side of the road - beaten, broken, and humbled - knowing that I am not a victim and not a part of the solution but rather just another part of the problem.  I'm just another one of the billions of spiritually needy people on this planet who need grace.  All I can do now is to get up, spit the dirt out of my mouth, dust myself off, and continue on my journey, limping down the road.


Notes:

1. Yes, I am fully aware of how psychotic that paragraph was.  I'm beginning to think that maybe arrogance requires a measure of insanity.

The image featured in this introspection is public domain.

Sermon: One Thing

Delivered at Monaghan United Methodist Church in Greenville, South Carolina on July 21, 2013.

I share these thoughts hoping they are of help to someone else.

Comments are always welcomed.

One Thing

Now as they went on their way, He entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed Him into her home.  She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what He was saying.  But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to Him and asked, "Lord, do You not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself?  Tell her then to help me."  But the Lord answered her, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing.  Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her."

Luke 10:38-42 (NRSV)

My chains are gone, I've been set free

My God, my Savior has ransomed me

And like a flood, His mercy rains

Unending love, amazing grace

From "My Chains Are Gone" by Chris Tomlin

During Lent this year, my Bible study group read Adam Hamilton's book The Way: Walking in the Footsteps of Jesus.  Each chapter of this book explores a different aspect of Jesus' life and ministry.  We took turns leading the weekly discussion, and, as someone who teaches Sunday school and occasionally preaches, I felt drawn to the chapter about Jesus' teaching ministry.  We had been opening each week's discussion with a question, so I asked the group, "What is your favorite teaching of Jesus?"  The teaching that was probably mentioned the most was the Parable of the Prodigal Son.


The Prodigal Son

You are probably familiar with the story.

A certain rich man has two sons.  One day, the younger of the two approaches his father and asks him for his share of the family fortune.  This request is tantamount to asking his father to drop dead, but, despite this display of utter disrespect, the father actually gives the son his inheritance.  The son then leaves his father's house, moves far, far away, and begins to live the life he has always wanted, a life of "wine, women, and song."  Eventually the young man's money dries up, so he can no longer afford his hedonistic lifestyle.  To make matters worse, a famine hits the land, and he begins to go hungry.  With no other options, he takes a job working for a pig farmer, a job not fitting for someone raised in a Jewish home.

As the young man turns a lustful eye towards the crud he's feeding the pigs, he thinks about his father, remembering how well his father treats his household servants.  The son hatches a plan: he'll return home and beg his father to hire him as a servant.  As the wayward son nears his home, probably rehearsing what he is going to say, his father sees him from a distance and runs out to embrace him.  The son tries to make his spiel, but his father won't listen.  The father calls the servants and tells them to dress his son in the finest clothes they can find and to get everything ready for his son's welcome-home party.  He even tells them to butcher the fatted calf.  After all, what's a welcome-home celebration without a steak dinner?

Meanwhile, the older son is out taking care of his father's estate, and he hears music and dancing.  He asks one of the household staff what is going on, and he learns that his brother has returned and that his father has thrown him a party.  The older son is livid.  His worthless brother leaves home, squanders his inheritance doing God knows what, and comes home to be treated like a king!  He, on the other hand, has never given his father any grief whatsoever and has even spent years busting his hump working for him.  His brother leaves home and does nothing but party and then comes home to yet another party.  "Is there no justice?" he probably thought to himself. "I'm the one who deserves a party!"

The older son confronts his father about this gross injustice, saying, "For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!"

The father replies, "Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.  But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found."¹

It's not hard to see why this story is beloved by so many people.  This parable can be a great comfort to anyone who has ever identified with the wayward younger son, for it reminds us that, no matter how far we stray, God is always ready to welcome us home with open arms.  At the same time, though, this parable can be deeply discomforting like many of Jesus' teachings, because, if we let it, it just might throw a light on some parts of ourselves that we would probably rather not see.

I think it's probably safe to say that the older son in this story has what pop psychology calls a Type A personality.  People with Type A personalities can be characterized as organized, ambitious, and competitive and are often prone to hostility, irritability, impatience, and stress.  Perhaps the younger brother has more of a Type B personality.  Someone with a Type B personality is much more easygoing, preferring the enjoyment of life over personal achievement.²

Though we tend to focus on the differences between the two sons, it is important to also consider what the two sons have in common.  Consider again what the older son says when he confronts his father: "For all these years I have been working like a slave for you..."³  Notice that neither son seems to enjoy life at his father's house.  The younger son cannot wait to receive his inheritance and leave, while the older son thinks of himself as a slave.  The only difference between the two is that the older son stayed and did what he was supposed to do while the younger son left and did what he actually wanted to do.  I wonder if the older son's anger came, in part, from envy that his brother actually got to leave and enjoy his life while he stayed and resigned himself to a life of slavery to his father.

At the risk of reading a little too much into this story, I wonder if the two sons were both haunted by what my pastor calls perceived expectations.  In other words, I wonder if they thought that their father had unreasonable expectations of them.  The older son spends his life toiling and striving to earn his father's approval, while the younger son gives up on ever attaining his father's approval and simply leaves home to enjoy life.  Both sons think of life at their father's house as a life of slavery, but, perhaps the two are slaves to nothing but their own flawed perceptions of their father.  When the wayward younger son returns home, hoping to be hired as a worker, his father puts a robe on his shoulders and throws him a welcome-home party.  When the older son objects to his father's gracious treatment of the younger son, the father basically says, "What's mine is yours."  These are hardly the actions of a slave driver.

I think that sometimes Christians have a tendency to be spiritual Type A's.  We toil and struggle and strain to please God while setting ourselves apart from "sinners."  We turn up our noses at people who live for the moment, for, though they may enjoy their lives now, we will enjoy a much greater reward later on.  Deep down, though, we're actually miserable.  The God we strive to please seems to remain hopelessly out of reach.  We beat ourselves up on the inside because we never seem to measure up to the expectations we assume God has for us.⁴  We resent and envy free spirited people who seem to enjoy their lives with no appearance of guilt.  I probably shouldn't admit this from the pulpit, but I am able to make this observation because I have personally felt this way.


The Prodigal Daughter

In the Gospel, we read another story about a pair of siblings who have Type A and Type B personalities.

Jesus was very close with a certain family who lived in the town of Bethany.  In this family were two sisters named Mary and Martha and also a brother named Lazarus, who apparently had some health problems.  This family seems to be financially comfortable, though not necessarily rich.⁵  We know that Jesus, on occasion, stayed with this family as he traveled, proclaiming His message of the Kingdom of God.

One evening, while Jesus is at the house the family in Bethany, Martha is busy preparing dinner.  Martha is keenly aware of everything that is expected of her, both as a host and as a woman, and, for some reason, these perceived expectations are not being met this evening – things just aren't getting done.  With society's expectations weighing heavily upon her, she becomes angry with her sister Mary for not lending her a hand.  When Martha cannot take the stress any longer, she walks over to where Jesus is teaching and interrupts Him, saying, "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself?  Tell her then to help me."

While Type-A Martha has been doing her best to be a good host to Jesus, her sister, Type-B Mary, has been sitting at the Rabbi's feet, listening to Him teach.  In our society, Mary might come across as inconsiderate of her sister, and perhaps a bit lazy, but the world was a very different place when Jesus walked the earth.  In Jesus' day, when a rabbi taught, his disciples would sit at his feet and listen.  Women were not educated at this time, so they certainly wouldn't be chosen to be disciples of rabbis like Jesus.  By sitting at Jesus' feet, Mary is basically declaring herself to be one of Jesus' disciples.⁶  We can see that Mary has a lot of nerve and that she apparently has no regard for her place in society.

I believe that Mary of Bethany could be rightfully called the "Prodigal Daughter."  Most people incorrectly think that the word prodigal means "wayward."  In one sense, Mary was wayward, for, like the Prodigal Son, she threw aside everything that was expected of her to do what she wanted to do.  The word prodigal actually means "extravagant."  In the Gospel of John we read about another instance when Jesus and his disciples were staying with the family in Bethany.  In the middle of dinner, Mary barges in, breaks open a very expensive jar of perfume, and pours the perfume all over Jesus.  It is believed that this jar of perfume – worth about a year's wages for a common worker – was given to Mary by her parents to provide for her future financial security.⁷  Then, in an act that would be considered extremely immodest in her day, she lets down her hair and wipes Jesus' feet with it.⁸

Mary was shameless and wasteful, just like the Prodigal Son.

As a host, Mary was supposed to help her sister with the housework; instead she sought spiritual enlightenment at the feet of Jesus.  As a woman, she was supposed to be modest; instead, she did things that were frowned upon as indecent and wasteful to express some of her deepest feelings.  Mary was not willing to simply be the person her family and her society expected her to be.  She would not be a slave to perceived expectations; instead she was true to herself.

Mary followed her heart, and Jesus commended her for it.

When Martha tells Jesus to make Mary do what she is supposed to do and help her, Jesus replies, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing.  Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her."  When one disciple chastises Mary for being wasteful with her bottle of perfume, Jesus comes to her defense.  In the Gospel of Mark, Jesus is recorded as saying, "Let her alone; why do you trouble her?  She has performed a good service for me...  Truly I tell you, wherever the good news is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in remembrance of her."⁹


"There Is Need of Only One Thing"

So what is this "one thing" that Jesus said was needed – the "one thing" that Mary chose – the "one thing" that would not be taken away from her?

St. Paul, in his Second Letter to the Corinthian church, mentions that he has been tormented by something he calls a "thorn in the flesh."¹⁰  Paul never states exactly what this "thorn in the flesh" is, but there has been a lot of speculation.  Many think that he is referring to some sort of physical ailment, perhaps weakening eyesight.  I wonder if Paul might be referring to something else, something he doesn't particularly want to put into writing.  Though the word flesh might refer to a person's physical body, the word flesh is also used in the Bible to refer to the ego or the self.  I wonder if this "thorn in the flesh" isn't physical at all.  In another letter, Paul writes, "I'm sold as a slave to sin.  I don’t know what I’m doing, because I don’t do what I want to do.  Instead, I do the thing that I hate."¹¹  I wonder if Paul had some sort of character flaw or moral failure that he just couldn't seem to overcome.

If this is the case, then perhaps perceived expectations weighed heavily on Paul, just as they did on Martha, just as they did on the Prodigal Son's older brother.  Paul certainly wasn't living up to his own expectations.  Perhaps he thought that he wasn't living up to God's expectations either.  Paul was a leader in the Church, so perhaps he didn't feel as though he was living up to his calling.  I wonder if maybe Paul felt the need to maintain what one seminary professor called the "pastor's mystique."  Nobody likes to know that pastors aren't perfect, so sometimes pastors feel the need to constantly guard themselves lest anyone discovers their faults and failures and lose all respect for them.¹²

Paul realizes that he cannot overcome his problem on his own, so he begs God to take it away from him.  He prays three times, and things don't get any better.  In Paul's life – as in Martha's kitchen – things just aren't getting done.

Finally, Paul hears God say, "My grace is enough for you."¹³

God basically says, "Paul, Your 'thorn in the flesh' is not going away.  You are never going to live up to anyone's expectations, not even your own.  But that's alright.  You don't have to be perfect.  I love you, and I accept you just as you are, 'thorns' and all."

I wonder if the "one thing" that Mary received – the one thing Jesus said was needed – the one thing that would not be taken away from her – is grace.  Sometimes we think of God's grace as the power from God to just do better, but what if grace is actually something altogether different.  According to theologian Paul Tillich, "Grace does not mean simply that we are making progress in our moral self-control, in our fight against special faults, and in our relationships to men and to society."  Tillich goes on to say that God's grace is that which calls out to us in our darkest moments, saying:
You are accepted.  You are accepted, accepted by that which is greater than you, and the name of which you do not know.  Do not ask for the name now; perhaps you will find it later.  Do not try to do anything now; perhaps later you will do much.  Do not seek for anything; do not perform anything; do not intend anything.  Simply accept the fact that you are accepted!¹⁴

Mary was able to flout the world's expectations and follow her heart because she had accepted grace.  She had accepted that she was already loved and accepted by God.  Accepting God's grace gives us freedom,

freedom from perceived expectations,

freedom from the rat race that has engulfed the world around us,

freedom from the words supposed to,

freedom the fear of getting it wrong,

freedom to be who we are.

It's no wonder that the words grace and peace are so often coupled together.  Accepting God's grace gave Mary the freedom to be who she was created to be, a disciple of Jesus Christ.  Mary's place was not in the kitchen but at the feet of her Rabbi.

Sometimes we find ourselves carrying burdens that we were never meant to carry by trying to live up to expectations that we were never meant to meet.  The simple fact of the matter is that we cannot please everyone, and, if we try to meet everyone's expectations, we will become slaves to every person we meet.  For some people, perceived expectations have even become a religion, for they have projected unreasonable expectations onto God in the same way that the two sons in Jesus' parable projected unreasonable expectations onto their father.  If our religion feels like a millstone around our necks, then something has gone horribly wrong.  Christ himself said, "Come to Me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.  Take My yoke upon you, and learn from Me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For My yoke is easy, and My burden is light."¹⁵

Like Mary of Bethany, we are all called to be disciples of Jesus Christ, but each one of us is called to follow Christ in a way that is unique, personal, and natural.  According to C.S. Lewis, when we serve God we actually become more ourselves than we ever were.¹⁶  I believe that this is why Christ says that His yoke is easy and that His burden is light.  One recent translation of the Bible, The Voice, paraphrases Jesus' words in this way: "Put My yoke upon your shoulders – it might appear heavy at first, but it is perfectly fitted to your curves."¹⁷  Theologian Frederick Buechner writes, "The place God calls you to is where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet."¹⁸  A life of slavery and conformity is the last thing God has in mind for us.  Don't make life any harder than it already is!

Grace allows us to cast aside all the expectations of the world around us; grace gives us the freedom to follow our hearts and the freedom to become fully who God created us to be; and grace welcomes us home those times when following our hearts lands us in a pigsty.  If you have been carrying around the heavy burden of other people's expectations, I pray that you fully accept God's grace – that you accept the fact that you are already loved and accepted by God – and, I pray that this love and acceptance brings you peace.

Grace and peace to you.

Amen.


Notes:

1. Luke 15:11-32 (NRSV)
2. Wikipedia: Type A and Type B personality theory
3. Emphasis added
4. David Seamands describes such Christians in Healing for Damaged Emotions. 1981, David C. Cook.  p. 15
5. Frank Viola.  God's Favorite Place on Earth.  2013, David C. Cook.  p. 17
6. Wikipedia: Mary of Bethany
7. Viola p. 139
8. John 12:1-8
9. Mark  14:6,9 (NRSV).  Yes, I realize that Mark's account of Jesus' anointing does not identify the woman anointing Jesus as Mary of Bethany, but I really like Jesus' response in this account.
10. 2 Corinthians 12:7
11. Romans 7:14-15 (CEB)
12. Craig Groeschel.  Dare to Drop the Pose.  2010, Multnomah Books.  pp. 9-10
13. 2 Corinthians 12:8-9
14. Paul Tillich.  The Shaking of the Foundations.  ch. 19
15. Matt 11:28-30 (NRSV)
16. C.S. Lewis.  The Screwtape Letters.  Letter 13
17. Matt 11:29 (The Voice)
18. Frederick Buechner.  Wishful Thinking: A Seeker's ABC.  1993, Harper One.  p. 119

The Return of the Prodigal Son was painted by Pompeo Batoni in 1773.  Christ in the House of Martha and Mary was painted by Johannes Vermeer in 1654.  The Sharpie tattoo on my left forearm was badly drawn by me in 2013.