Perspective: The House that Love Demolished

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

Comments are always welcomed.

The House that Love Demolished

Let your light shine before people, so they can see the good things you do and praise your Father who is in heaven.

Matthew 5:16 (CEB)

Ruin my life - the plans I have made

Ruin desires for my own selfish gain

Destroy the idols that have taken Your place

Till it's You alone I live for

You alone I live for

From "Ruin Me" by Jeff Johnson

There is a story near the beginning of the Bible in which a united humanity sets out to build a great city with a magnificent tower that reaches to the sky.  For some reason, God disapproves of what the people are doing and decides to take action.  To halt any further progress on the city, God creates divisions within humanity by giving the people different languages.  The people are no longer able to understand each other and are forced to abandon any further development on the city.  Humanity is scattered throughout the earth, and the city is remembered with the name Babel, which means "to confuse."¹

So what was so bad about the city and its tower that God saw it necessary to fracture and scatter a united human race?  I think that the key for understanding God's actions in this story lies in humanity's motivation for building the city.  Those who proposed to build the city were quoted as saying, "Come, let's build for ourselves a city and a tower with its top in the sky, and let's make a name for ourselves."²  To make a name for oneself is to make oneself famous, in other words, to bring glory to oneself.

Basically, Babel was a city built on hubris, an inflated sense of self-importance.

After the incident at Babel, God begins to build something much different.  God reaches out to a man named Abraham and promises him that his descendants will be "a great nation" and that, because of him, "all the families of the earth will be blessed."³  The fruit of God's blessing on the world through Abraham's descendants can be seen when Abraham's great-grandson Joseph becomes a leader in Egypt and helps numerous nations by preparing for a severe famine.⁴

As the centuries pass, the Egyptian rulers forget about Joseph and the blessing he brought to their people and force the people of Israel into slavery.  God sees the plight of the Israelites, delivers them from slavery in Egypt, and makes a covenant with them.  The people of Israel would become a "kingdom of priests."  Their responsibility was to obey the Torah, the code of laws given to them by God.⁵

Out of a fractured, scattered humanity, God sought to build a "kingdom of priests" because of whom "all the families of the earth will be blessed."

The second part of the Bible – the New Testament – tells the stories of Jesus Christ and His followers.  In these stories we see that God's plans include not just one group of people, but the whole world.  Four books of the New Testament, the Gospels, tell of Christ's ministry, execution on a cross at the hands of the Roman Empire, resurrection from the dead, and ascension into heaven.  Another book, the Acts of the Apostles, tells of how the early followers of Christ carried on His ministry.

On a day called Pentecost, not long after Christ ascended into Heaven, Christ's closest followers, the Disciples, are gathered in a room together.  Suddenly they hear the sound of a mighty wind and see the Spirit of God descending on them as tongues of fire.  When they leave the building, people from many different countries hear the Disciples speaking in their own languages.⁶  From this day forward more and more people of different backgrounds begin to follow Christ.

When God showed up at Babel, people were no longer able to understand each other.

When God showed up on Pentecost, people began to understand each other once again.

In one letter to the early Christians, St. Paul writes, "There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus."⁷  In another letter, St. Peter writes, "You yourselves are being built like living stones into a spiritual temple.  You are being made into a holy priesthood to offer up spiritual sacrifices that are acceptable to God through Jesus Christ."⁸

At Babel, God fractures and scatters a united humanity.

In Christ, God unites a fractured and scattered humanity.

St. Peter's words bring to mind the covenant God made with the people of Israel.  The people of the covenant were to become a "kingdom of priests," and Peter calls the Church a "holy priesthood."  According to Wikipedia, a priest is "a mediatory agent between humans and one or more deities."⁹  Perhaps it could be said that priests are people who serve the world on behalf of God.  I believe that Christ describes this priesthood when he says, "Let your light shine before people, so they can see the good things you do and praise your Father who is in heaven."

The responsibility of the people of the covenant was to obey the Law given to them by God.  Christ said that at the heart of the Law are two simple commands:

• You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your being, and with all your mind.
• You must love your neighbor as you love yourself.¹⁰

God demolished a house built on a foundation of hubris and built a new house on a foundation of love.

If you want to see hubris at its most destructive, then look no further than Nazi Germany.  The Nazi Party believed that people from their own race were superior to all other human beings and that some of those they deemed inferior should even be annihilated.  In their hubris, the Nazis committed such horrific acts of violence that even sworn pacifists felt as though they had to be stopped by any means necessary.¹¹

By contrast, we see what love can do when when we look at people like Martin Luther King Jr., who sought to create a more just and loving society for all people.  We see what love can do when we look at people like Mother Teresa, who gave her life to care for the sick, the crippled, and the poor in one of the most impoverished areas in the world.  We see what love can do whenever we look at someone who cares for those in need or speaks out for those who have no voice.

Hubris is focused inward.
Love is focused outward.

Hubris exalts itself and is humbled.
Love humbles itself and is exalted.

Hubris caves in on itself.
Love continues to expand.

Hubris walks over other people.
Love carries other people along.

Hubris builds crosses.
Love bears crosses.

In a world where people are so often driven by self-interest, God has called all of us to become people driven by love.  Hubris naturally divides us, but love brings us together.  It is always painful when our houses of pride come crashing down around us, but we can be confident that God will build up something beautiful amid the wreckage.


Notes:

1. Genesis 11:1-9
2. Genesis 11:4 (CEB)
3. Genesis 12:1-3 (CEB)
4. Genesis 41
5. Exodus 19:5-6 (CEB)
6. Acts 2:1-11
7. Galatians 3:28 (CEB)
8. 1 Peter 2:5 (CEB)
9. Wikipedia: Priest
10. Matthew 22:34-40 (CEB)
11. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, for example

The Tower of Babel was painted by Pieter Bruegel in 1563.

Perspective: Why Bad Clichés Happen to Good People

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

Comments are always welcomed.

Why Bad Clichés Happen to Good People

You asked,

"Who is this that conceals counsel with empty words void of knowledge?"

And now I see that I spoke of - but did not comprehend -

great wonders that are beyond me.  I didn't know.

Job 42:3 (The Voice)

And every tear I've cried

You hold in Your hand

From "Praise You in this Storm" by Casting Crowns

Last year, writer Christian Piatt published a series of blog posts about clichés that Christians should consider abandoning.  I noticed that many of them were the type of thing a Christian might say to or about somebody who is going through a difficult time.

Consider the following:

• Everything happens for a reason.
• He/she is in a better place.¹
• God needed another angel in heaven, so He called him/her home.
• The Lord never gives someone more than they can handle.²
• When God closes a door, He opens a window.
• God helps those who help themselves.
• Perhaps God is (causing something negative) to get your attention.
• There, but for the grace of God, go I.
• If you just have enough faith (fill in the blank) will happen for you.
• God is in control.³

Some of these clichés are simply glib or insensitive.  Others fail to give proper respect to a person's feelings.  Several of them place the blame for suffering on the shoulders of the one who is suffering, when the situation is not always so simple.

Probably the most frustrating aspect of many of these clichés is the implication that God either allows or causes bad things to happen.  If a friend reminded you, shortly after something really bad happened, that God is in control, then, at some point, you would probably find yourself asking, "If God is both loving and all-powerful, then why doesn't God prevent bad things from happening to the humans that God created and supposedly loves?"

A lot of Christians are so concerned with declaring God's sovereignty that they elevate God's power over God's love.  As a result, they paint a picture of God that seems uncaring at best and monstrous at worst.  Many will assert that not only is God in control when bad things happen, God actually causes bad things to happen as part of some divine plan.  For example, in 2007, when a highway bridge in Minneapolis collapsed, killing thirteen people, one popular writer and pastor asserted that God allowed the bridge to collapse because God wants people to fear Him.⁴

Theologians and philosophers have debated for centuries regarding how much God is actually in control and how much control God has yielded to humans by giving them free will.  I don't have much to add to that particular conversation, but I would like to suggest that, regardless of your particular beliefs about God's sovereignty and God's omnipotence, perhaps it is best not to discuss such matters with someone who is going through a difficult time.

In the Old Testament, we read about a man named Job who lost his health, his property, and his children in a short amount of time.  Shortly afterward, three of his good friends came to visit him.  They mourned with him and sat with him in silence for seven days.  As friends, they were doing the right thing until they started to discuss theology.  Job's friends essentially told Job that his misfortune was punishment from God for some sin he had committed.  This discussion did not help clarify things for Job; instead, it only served to add to his pain.

Perhaps Christians perpetuate bad clichés because they feel as though they need to have an answer for everything - they want to make all of the puzzle pieces fit together.  Perhaps these clichés seem like simple, pious answers to questions that we ultimately cannot answer.  If any of the difficult questions of human existence can indeed be answered, I doubt the answers are simple enough fit on a church sign or on an inspirational picture on Facebook.  Perhaps the best answer to questions about human suffering is a simple yet honest "I don't know."

As God's witnesses on earth, Christians want to give people the answers to all of life's questions; however, we don't have a God who has given us all the answers.  What we do have is a God who came to earth in the form of a human being.  He walked with us, sat down for dinner with us, celebrated with us, wept with us, and even hung godforsaken on a cross and cried out "Why?" with us.  So often we say that Christ died for our sins, but we must also remember that suffering the crucifixion was God's ultimate act of solidarity with humankind.⁵

Sometimes we bring suffering upon ourselves; sometimes we bring suffering upon each other; and sometimes stuff just seems to happen to us without any apparent rhyme or reason.  Our God has not revealed to us the reason for all human suffering.  Instead, our God enters into our suffering with us.  This is literally what it means to have compassion for someone.  If we are to truly follow the example of Christ, then we must abandon insensitive clichés and easy "answers" and stand in solidarity with our friends and neighbors who are suffering.


Notes:

1. Christian Piatt.  "Ten Clichés Christians Should Never Use."  Father, Son, and Holy Heretic, 07/06/2012.
2. Christian Piatt.  "Ten More Clichés Christians Should Avoid."  Father Son and Holy Heretic, 07/09/2012.
3. Christian Piatt.  "Nine (Final) Christian Clichés to Avoid."  Father, Son, and Holy Heretic, 07/10/2012.
4. If you would like to read one response to this pastor, click here.
5. Tony Jones emphasizes this point in his ebook Questions that Haunt Christianity: Volume 1.  2013, the JoPa Group.

The photograph of the dominos was taken by Enoch Lai and is used under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.

Introspection: Waiting for Aldersgate

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

Comments are always welcomed.

Waiting for Aldersgate

Why, O LORD, do You stand far off?

Why do You hide Yourself in times of trouble?

Psalm 10:1 (NRSV)

You always said we'd meet again

You always said You'd be here

Where are You now?

You touch the deepest part of me

The places I could not save

Just tell me why I'm so dark inside

From "Mystery of You" by RED

To say that Saul was a religious man would be an understatement; he was so zealous about his beliefs he would do anything to keep his religion pure.  When people in Jerusalem started claiming that some dead rabbi was the Son of God, he knew that he had to put a stop to the heresy through any means necessary.  He began having the followers of this rabbi incarcerated.  When the heretics started fleeing the city, he received permission from the high priest to pursue the heretics in other cities and bring them back.

While Saul was on the way to the city of Damascus, a light from heaven fell upon him and brought him to his knees.  A loud voice called out from heaven saying, "Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?"  When Saul asked who was speaking, the voice called out to him again and said, "I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting."  Saul remained blind for three days during which he had nothing to eat or drink.¹

Saul was the man who would someday be remembered as St. Paul.

Episcopal priest and professor Barry Taylor points out that, while most of us would be tempted to say that Saul "saw the light" that day, Saul actually had a "revelation of darkness."  Saul was confronted with the monstrosity of his own actions and blinded.  He was left in the dark, closed up within himself for three days to face what he had done.²

In the past few months, I have experienced my own revelation of darkness.  I have gazed into the darkness of my own heart, and it has stopped me in my tracks.  I have been confronted with my arrogance.  Though I often speak with self-deprecation, in reality, I think I'm really damn important.  I have been confronted with my judgmentalism.  I have demonized people in the past, only to discover that I make the same choices as the people I condemned when placed in the same situation.  I have been confronted with my self-centeredness.  I always want my own way, and, though I'll occasionally do some easy token gestures of kindness for people, the moment somebody wants more from me than I want to give, I'll bail out.

Theologian G.K. Chesterton once wrote, "The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting.  It has been found difficult and left untried."  In other words, people abandon Christianity because the life Christ calls us to live is just too hard.  I can resonate with this sentiment, because most of the time I feel like an utter failure as a Christian.  And if you dared to tell me that following Christ is not all that difficult, then I would suggest that you're probably doing it wrong.

I originally started this blog because I had been preaching at my church on occasion and wanted to share my sermons with the world, and I started preaching because I hated my job and was considering a new vocation in the ministry.  Because of the aforementioned reasons, becoming a pastor seems to be less and less of an option for me.  I still find a sense of joy in teaching Sunday School, in preaching, and in sharing my journey of faith through my writing, so, if I do go into the ministry in some way, I will likely seek out some sort of teaching role.  After all, "Those who can't do, teach."

Recently, I was venting about these things to someone, and he asked me why I am still involved with the Church.

In early 1738, John Wesley, the founder of the Methodist movement, was going through a dark time in his own life.  He had just returned to England after a seemingly unsuccessful ministry in colonial America which ended in scandal and litigation.  On May 24 of that same year, he was dragged to a gathering at a Moravian church.  What happened to him that evening impacted him profoundly.  In fact, it is still considered a pivotal moment in Methodist history.

Wesley wrote the following in his journal about the experience:
In the evening I went unwillingly to a society in Aldersgate Street, where one was reading Luther's preface to the Epistle to the Romans.  About a quarter to nine, while he was describing the change which God works in the heart through faith in Christ, I felt my heart strangely warmed.  I felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone for salvation, and an assurance was given me that He had taken away my sins, even mine and saved me from the law of sin and death.³

I am still involved with the Church because I am waiting for an "Aldersgate moment."  I am waiting for Christ to show up for me in the same way that He showed up for John Wesley.  I am waiting for a moment when it "clicks" - a moment when everything makes sense to me.  Usually, when Christians speak about being "saved," they mean that they are going to heaven when they die because they believe a certain set of beliefs or because they have prayed a certain prayer.  Once upon a time, I "got saved" because I was afraid of going to hell, but this is not the kind of salvation I desire right now.  If Christ truly is our Savior, then I want Him to ride into my life on a white horse and save me from my darkness, not when I die, but while I'm still alive.

Sometimes the life of faith might seem like a walk on the beach in which we contemplate the number of trails of footprints in the sand.  At other times, the life of faith might seem more like a wrestling match.  Though I have experienced a good deal of the former in my life, lately I have been experiencing more of the latter.  I am wrestling with who I am, wrestling with what I have done, and wrestling with what God wants from me.

The phrase wrestling with God originates from an Old Testament story in which Jacob spends the night locked in combat with - well - someone.  The other wrestler knocks Jacob's hip out of joint and demands that Jacob let him go.  Jacob replies, "I will not let you go, unless you bless me."  The other wrestler then blesses him, saying, "Your name won’t be Jacob any longer, but Israel, because you struggled with God and with men and won."  Jacob walks away, limping.⁴

Wrestling with God is not necessarily a sign of a lack of faith: it just might be a sign that one believes in a God loving enough to meet people right where they are, even if that means wrestling with them.  In the same way that Jacob wouldn't let go of the other wrestler until he received a blessing, I am not letting go of God until God shows up in my life again.  I believe that God showed up heroically in my life in the past, and I believe that God can and will do it again.


Notes:

1. Acts 8:1-3,9:1-9 (NRSV)
2. Barry Taylor, Tripp Fuller, Peter Rollins, and Bo Sanders.  "Revelation of Darkness LIVE Event: Taylor’s F-it Theology, Rollins reaches behind the curtain."  Homebrewed Christianity Podcast, 05/08/13.  (Warning: This podcast episode contains coarse language.)
3. Wikipedia: Aldersgate
4. Genesis 32:22-32 (CEB)

The illustration of Jacob wrestling with the angel was drawn by Gustave Doré in 1855.