Wrestling with the cross.....again

"Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple."  Luke 14.27

Mention a cross and Christians think Good Friday with its unbearable image of a suffering, dying Jesus nailed to a cross, arms outstretched, chest bared to the world, stripped of everything.  But it is not his naked form which causes us to avert our eyes, but his powerless vulnerability and the wrenching violence of the scene.  For people of faith, the Good Friday cross is deep mystery, other worldly power, and - somehow - a promise.  When Jesus speaks of us carrying the cross, it is also frightening.

Our fear is not grounded in our death; our fear is grounded in the possibility that this cross is calling us to a particular manner of living.  We fear that we are called to live with arms outstretched, vulnerable, and powerless: stripped of the masks behind which we hide, the defenses we have built to protect ourselves,  and all of our resources including bank accounts and storage units.  Our fear is that faith in the Jesus who was crucified in some manner demands that we, like him, are emptied of power and solely dependent on the Creator God.  I think it does.

"Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple."

Yet, it will not be soldiers who nail us to our modern cross of faith but love: that deep love of God which we have come to know through Jesus.  It will be the love that has transformed us by crushing our hearts of stone and giving us hearts of flesh.  It will be the love of Jesus which has opened our eyes to our neighbors - no longer categories and labels and judgments - but wounded and gifted children of the Creator God.  It will be the love that builds relationships based not on family connections but on forgiveness and reconciliation which will bind us to this path.

It is this love which draws us to follow Jesus and calls us to carry our imperfect version of this life giving love with us - wherever we go, whomever we meet, and whatever the consequences.  As it flowed from Jesus to us, it now flows from us into the world.  We cannot put it down because we have discovered that the life we live inside this love is our most valuable possession. 

If we look closely, this cross of life-giving love for every corner of creation is the same cross Jesus carried, loving the haughty and the low, healing the broken, inviting the outcast.  His cross is our cross.

So now I must confess that my fear is real; I am afraid to do it; I am afraid that I cannot.  I struggle to release old patterns of behavior, old prejudices, and all the privileges I enjoy.  Luther was right when he wrote, "I cannot by my own strength or understanding come to faith in our Lord Jesus".  I fear what I will lose, most especially I fear that in the end, I will lose my grasp of this precious gift of grace which is Jesus.

So Jesus sits down at the table and holds up a loaf of bread and says to us, 'Whenever you gather together with bread, remember!  Remember!'  Breaking it he reminds us 'This is my body, broken for you.  Every time you raise a cup together, remember!  This is my blood poured out - in love - for you.  Wherever you go, I am there.  Remember!' 

Fed and nourished, we walk the way of cross together, you and me and Jesus, out of love, and for the sake of the world. 

Are you able......?

....to drink the cup that I drink?"

That's the question, and just perhaps a litmus test.  Jesus has been asked to gift James and John with  the two pre-eminent positions in the coming kingdom....and he was asked by James and John themselves (I am not fooled by Matthew's version that it was their mother who asked).  So Jesus asks a question back, "Are you able to drink the cup that I drink?"

For once, this is not a metaphorical question.  This is as concrete as it gets....or will get in a chapter or two when they nail Jesus to a cross.  The cup Jesus drinks is the cup of suffering out of love for his neighbors......every single one of them.

To be clear, Jesus is not asking if you are lining up for the next round of crucifixions.  He wants to know where you stand on suffering....not your suffering, but the suffering of those around you.  Looking for a way out?  Looking for protection and security?  Looking out for yourself?

Do you see the suffering around you?  Do you know their names?  Do you know how this world is built on winners and losers?  Do you care whether the hungry get fed?  People of color get dissed?  Children get abused?  The elderly get scammed?

Are you able to drink the cup that I drink?

Or as the decade old song asks, "How deep is your love?"

Not that Jesus will love you any the less if you walk away, shaking your head, and changing the locks on your heart, handing out the keys to a select few.  It's just that there are no private rooms in the kingdom Jesus rules.

Into the silence..........

For God alone my soul waits in silence,

for my hope is from him.

He alone is my rock and my salvation,

my fortress; I shall not be shaken.

On God rests my deliverance and my honor;

my mighty rock, my refuge is in God.

Trust in him at all times, O people;

pour out your heart before him

God is a refuge for us. 

   Ps62.5-8

My private prayer life (in contrast to my professional prayer life which requires a more public articulation of our approach to God) has reached a place where I rarely speak words aloud.  Most times I am forming words in my mind.....although rarely complete sentences......just images, phrases, single words.  

I have experienced a time when silence was the most I could manage.  I had no words.  There were no images.  Sentences had been lost days and weeks and months before.  I did not seek this time of silence; it wasn't a meditation practice.  It was a time when time stood still, breath was elusive, the future was no more than a blank void.

I was beyond participating in my future: time had simply stopped and I knew the futility of my feeble attempts to shape tomorrow.  I stood absolutely still, frozen in the cross hairs of life and at most I prayed that the Spirit was praying for me.  Remember the story of Elijah in the cave waiting for God who came not in the wind or the earthquake or the fire but in the sheer sound of silence (occasionally translated 'a still small voice').  I waited in the silence for an encounter with God.

This psalm brought me back to those times when I learned a little bit more about waiting on God and trusting in the Creator to hold me close.  For me the psalmist has captured the intersection of the cross......where this world and God's eternity are bound together, a moment when we stand in the silence and await our God.

It was a terrible time when God came close and called me deeper into a life of trust.  I would never choose it voluntarily; I would not be who I am without it.  

Holy Week: dark night of the soul

It is a place - a time - when the absence of God is the most palpable experience that you have of God.  It is the depth of the Good Friday cross.

The dark night of the soul is that moment when you realize that God is not a thing to be grasped, even in love.  Rather God can only be encountered 'as that which eclipses the reality of all other things.'  In this space you have moved beyond describing who God is and are left with saying what God is not.  God is not all light.  God is not easily understood.  God is not........

The dark night of the soul is a darkness that descends upon one.  There is no glowing light in the darkness; the only way out of the darkness is to travel through it.  Not striving.  Not ordering or arranging.  But breathing, existing, walking one step at a time listening for the whisper of the 'still small voice' from Elijah, or the weight of a presence that simply is.  There is no pathway neither to God or from God; only is exists.

There is no safe place; there are no promises; there is nowhere to settle.  It is unnerving yet also exquisite.  It is gift in the pain of uncertainty where you wander asking, "Where is the God I have known?"

It is not even a spiritual practice even as it is a powerfully spiritual experience.  It can not be sought; it finds you.  "It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of a living God" the writer of Hebrews tells us.

Yet in this deepest darkness, God is. Just possibly the deepest darkness is necessary to truly encounter God. Or, it is in the deepest darkness that what we encounter is truly God.

I have no answers, only the fearful journey of seeking, on this, the day of the cross.

*the original reflections on the dark night of the soul belong to St. John of the Cross

Deep in my secret heart: fear

Fears.  That's the second thing we bury deep within our secret heart.  Not the easily negated kinds of fears.  Oh no.  The big fears - the often irrational fears - the "I can't say them outloud or they will come true" fears.

I can name a few of mine but of course this is only helpful if you are naming a few of yours on your end of the computer.  When my children were small I had an irrational fear that my husband would die and leave me to raise the children all alone.  That fear had a lot to do with my own estimation of my incompetence and who wants to admit to their middle class neighbors that they are fairly sure they are incompetent as a parent.

Abandonment is also tied into that pretty little package.  I expect it has a lot to do with the early death of both my sister and father.  But there it was.  I was going to be Left Alone.  The irony, of course, is that, having been widowed now for 17 years, that is exactly what has happened, and it isn't nearly as fearful as I imagined, even though it was fear filled in different ways.

We are afraid that we will die a bad death....or have to watch as someone we love dies in pain.  Is that one of yours?

We press these fears back into the corner of our secret heart, guarding them, nursing them, watching to see if our worst fears will come true.

What is God's wisdom for us?  "I know."  I know about your fears, even that silly one about going down into the basement at night.  I know.  I want to cast out all fear and I can do that when you trust in the perfect love I have for you.  But until then, I will stand right here beside you.  I will walk with you through the valley of the shadow of death.  I will hold your hand if it helps.

There is no place you will have to go that I am unwilling to travel with you.  I have already reached down to the lost ones and called them back into relationship again.  You are mine and you are beloved.

Ahhhhh, if we could only believe with as much energy as we fear.

"teach me wisdom in my secret heart."

Meet me in my secret heart Lord

"....teach me wisdom in my secret heart..."  Ps51

The ancient sages know about the secret heart - that corner of our most inner being where we squirrel away any number of things.  No, that's not quite accurate; what we really do is press things into that corner of our inner being - press them hard and often, assuring that they will never find their way to the surface.

Our secret heart is the place where we secure our deepest secrets and our darkest selves.  It is the corner that we protect: from the light of day, from the casual inspection of onlookers, and from any attempts to dissect or discuss.

In this deep corner of our heart we store three things: our dreams, our fears and our sins.

Let's look at dreams.  When I was a child I spotted a wonderful white angora cardigan on a mannequin in a local shop window.  It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen and I knew that if I wore it, I would be beautiful too.  In fact, I might even become the epitome of all dreams: a ballerina....or if that failed, a princess.  All I needed was that white angora sweater.

So I began to lobby for it, subtly of course.  My birthday was approaching so I mentioned that a new sweater would be nice.  White would make it versatile and I had seen so many beautiful ones.  I never missed a chance to point out this wonderful concoction in the store window.  When the birthday box came, it was the right size and shape.  It was a white sweater - a wonderfully practical utilitarian white cardigan sweater.

And my dream was shattered:  now I would never be a princess or a ballerina.  Now I would never know what it meant to be beautiful.  A dream was lost.  A dream no one knew I had.  A dream that wasn't remotely grounded in reality.  A dream that was based on a child's need to feel beautiful.  Gone without ever having been mentioned.

Those are the kinds of things we store in our secret heart.  Dreams like a happy marriage with 2 children.  Dreams like a job helping others.  Dreams like playing professional baseball.  Dreams like sending your children to college.

We tuck these dreams into our secret hearts and guard them from the light of day because the disappointment of their failure is more than we think we can bear.

So what is God's wisdom to us?  God says, "I know."  I know about your dreams, and hopes and disappointments.  I know.  Yet, I have planted within you talents and gifts and strengths and wisdom that are needed in this world to make it a better place, to ease the suffering of others, to build a safe place for all.  I need you just as you are - you are perfect for these tasks ahead.

"...teach me wisdom in my secret heart...."

Beneath the cross of Jesus

"Beneath the cross of Jesus, I long to take my stand.

The shadow of a mighty rock within a weary land

A home within a wilderness, a rest upon the way,

from the burning of the noontide heat and burdens of the day."  ELW 338

The cross is not a place to hide from this world.  Rather it is here that we find truth: our own weakness and the strength of Christ's love.

A Palm Sunday sermon: the palms are so much easier

I think Palm Sunday ranks up there as one of most fun days in the church.  We get to wave palms and sing at the top of our lungs these wonderful hymns.  You could convince yourself that this is just the beginning of one long celebration that will grow throughout the week to the big extravaganza of Easter. 

And yet, today we wave palms to begin a week that marches inexorably to a scene of unspeakable violence which those palms waving folks never saw coming. 

Too many believers will skip over Holy Week observances because

they too don’t want to re-visit this week of fear and sorrow,

violence and grief.

This week requires that each of us look again at our expectations of God, our own broken relationship with God and the potential for great sacrifice when following this Jesus.

The Jesus of Palm Sunday didn’t quite turn out to be the triumphant king they expected.  He wasn’t the magician who would wave his hand and change the world into one which pleased all his followers. 

He wasn’t going to exact revenge on his enemies and pour out all manner of material

blessings of his followers.

 He was going to die….and no one saw it coming.

Which leads me to ask,: What do you do when God disappoints you? How do you react when your expectations of God are dashed to the ground?   It happens to everyone, you know.

 

Some of our disappointments are enormous: the marriage that didn’t work out, the job that disappeared, the diagnosis which meant an early death, the tornado that targeted your house…..and on and on.

Our response to it all is not rational.  It doesn’t matter that you haven’t been singled out……..it only matters that God didn’t turn out to be God the way you wanted, the way you expected.   These are personal stories, for rarely does this kind of estrangement come from a neighbor’s loss.  This is about us and our expectations for our own lives and for God.

We start with “If God were a God of love then…..”

and we end up de-friending God; we leave the Church;

we give up whatever spiritual practices we had. 

We pretend that it never mattered in the first place.

I get it: It is hard to get a handle on this Jesus and the coming kingdom that Jesus points to.  Not only is it not fully visible to us right now, it works with rules that confuse us. 

Jesus says the last shall be first and the first last.  He calls the religious leaders blind and the man born blind is able to see much more than the hand in front of his face.  He calls out the very religious and welcomes sinners to his dinner table.

Occasionally we glimpse this kingdom of God when it breaks into our reality with miracles of every stripe.  But we DONT live in Paradise.  All is not as it will be, even though we would like it to be that way now.

So we are caught: standing between this world and the next, we want justice and mercy for others, but first we want a large enough share to compensate for the pain and suffering of our own lives. And THAT is God’s job.

We want less suffering….now.   In the end we draw our own Pictionary sketch of what God should be ….and ignore the God who came among us in Jesus and the path he took to break the barrier between our world and God’s kingdom.

So when Jesus comes riding in on a donkey, we see a chance that it will all be made great again.  We want a savior so badly, we paint this non-descript Jewish carpenter as a King. 

Finally! We say,  God has come through for us and

We cut palm branches and celebrate that finally it will all be made great again. 

It’s not what Jesus talked about but then Palm branches are so much easier than delving deep into the mysteries of the universe with its big bang theories and black holes. Palm branches are easier than trusting in the unseen and wrestling with the paradoxes of life.  They are so much easier than love.

A Divine Power who can bring life into being, and life out of death……..this is majesty beyond our imagination, and too deep for our comprehension. 

            We would rather cut palm branches, or organize committees or join a

peace march than to truly trust that God is God and Jesus is God’s son. 

AND ALL this is easier than being a servant to our neighbor even unto death.

Just possibly at the heart of our disappointment is fear:

fear that the brokenness of our world is beyond anyone’s ability to fix.  And it is.

The brokenness of our world is a God sized problem that requires a God sized solution. 

Not a God to whom we dictate; but a God who dies in order to explode the 

power of death.

Palm branches are easier, but in the end, it is a cross that we need.

Palm Sunday sermon   Luther Memorial Lutheran Church  April 9, 2017

In the beginning.........the cross

Christian theology of a Lutheran bent is centered on the cross.  At the cross, where Jesus died a criminal's death, God is present.  At the face of evil, God still reigns. The face of a suffering Jesus is the face of the Creator God of life.  The powers of this world were no match for the power of the Divine Creator even though the symbol of that strength is the weakness of the cross.

There are lots of ways to say it, but, in the end, the cross was not the end, but a step along the pathway.  The end was but a beginning as the Creator God brought all creation to resurrection again.  Yet this cross can never be ignored nor discounted or ....foolishness of all foolishness....considered long ago and far away.

It is before this cross and this Jesus that we stand to confront the system of race relations in our country. Or should I say 'race non-relations.'  Stained by slavery a century and a half ago, interactions between white and black have been skewed.  It is a part of our history, and our society and culture have been built on this long standing reality.  In the final analysis, our system counts black Americans as not only different, but as less.

This is not a situation we have asked for.  We did not cause it.  But it is still there, under it all.  We avoid conversation about it and confession of it because we hate to be held responsible for something we didn't do.  Yet it is this system that has continually privileged our lives, and we do so want to hold onto those privileges even as we deny that they exist.

Some among us will answer, "well that's the way I was taught" as if that is either an explanation or excuse for behavior that clearly divides others into worthy and less worthy.  Some among us will answer, "I always treat others kindly" as if that denies the systematic oppression of an entire race that is quantified by research.

There is a similar problem with white privilege. Some among us will say, "look at where I live.  I'm not privileged." and yet they have never been denied a hotel room, an apartment to rent or steered away from a particular neighborhood by the realtor because of the color of their skin.  Some among us will say, "I worked hard for what I have" without thinking that from the quality of the schools attended, to the internships received, to the job interview that you landed, to the job that was offered, your whiteness was counted as a plus.  We can look at advertising and see all white faces; we can walk into a store and never think about what others are thinking of us (unless you went in your pajamas); we can walk down a street without police thinking we are in the wrong neighborhood.  That is the privilege of our race.

Now let us take that to the cross.  If you can't find the words for confession, even if you don't think that confession is needed, sit quietly before the cross (our cross at Luther Memorial is particularly helpful here) and listen for the Spirit's leading.  That guy up there was targeted because he was the wrong race under the wrong powerful people who ruled his land.  That guy up there was a threat to religious and secular leaders alike and really irritated regular folk like you and me because he taught us that forgiveness was the first step to real wholeness.........and we didn't think we needed to be forgiven.

So we crucified him.  He loved us.  Right there, on the cross.  Where death meets life and God reigns. Where weakness is strength.

What do we say about the cross?

Every Lent we move inexorably from ashes to cross and the question arises again.  What can we say about the cross?  How could the suffering of the 'good', our Lord Jesus, in any way be a part of the redemption of the 'broken' (you and me)?

For Christians the cross is everywhere.  It is held up as a sign of God's commitment born out of love for all of creation....'for God so loved the world that God gave the only begotten son, that whoever believes in him shall not die but have eternal life....'  We even wear it as jewelry!

The truth is, the cross is an instrument of cruel, inhumane suffering and death.  It is a symbol of everything we wish to avoid in this lifetime.  To look on the face of the suffering Jesus, even if only in your imagination, and see the love of God takes a spiritual clarity that frequently slips away from me.

St. Paul writes in his letter to the Corinthians “We proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles….” Foolishness.  A stumbling block.  

Oh, St. Paul.  Let's not put too fine a line on it.  The cross scares the pants off me.  At the same time, any effort to diminish the cruel reality of the cross, in my mind, serves only to dim the bright light on my brokenness and the cruelty of the world we live in. It keeps me from being truthful about myself.

To leap frog over Good Friday to Easter morning is to pretend that the pain and suffering of this world can somehow be avoided.  More than that.  It implies that Easter is a reward for those who 'live right' or 'live a good life' as if Jesus didn't do exactly those things!

And here is my final confession.  Confronting the cross on Good Friday, I know....KNOW....that I am so far beyond the pale of 'good' that I am sure God is exhausted from searching for me.  I do not understand.  I can interpret.  I can explain.  But I will never understand how the cross of Christ could cover me.

But in the midnight of my soul, it is to the cross I cling.  Perhaps I believe that something which makes absolutely no sense at all has to be the work of God.  The same God who brings us an empty tomb........

The devil? You've go to be kidding me.

Perhaps it is the red suit and the horns, but reasonable, educated people don't talk about the Devil.  Of all the things we are willing to talk about: how you spend your money, your sexual identity, how you raise your children, we don't like talking about the devil.  I'm not sure why because most of us truly do believe that evil is powerful, it is present in our world, and we have experienced it first hand.


The Bible has no such problem.  The serpent in the Garden of Eden takes on the role of the tempter, the sly one who manages to turn the heads of Adam and Eve with disastrous and long lasting results.  When we get to the New Testament, Jesus himself is tempted by Satan (the tempter or tester) both at the beginning of his ministry and during Holy Week when the end is frighteningly close.

So what are we talking about here?  We're talking about powers that want nothing to do with God and God's mission of life and well being.  We're talking about powers who try their best to turn our heads away from the reality of God's love for us.....who try to convince us that we are better off without God and God's notions of love for others and building community.

We're talking about that whisper that says to you: "You are not enough."  You are not smart, pretty, rich, tall, strong, talented.....you fill in the blank.....enough.  Press forward.  Push your way to the top.  Be the winner of all.  Don't listen to that God who claims you as a child of God and calls you beloved. Don't be fooled.

We're talking about that voice which assures you that you are entitled.  You are entitled to the extra money, the front row seat, the fancy title.  You are entitled to have so much food you throw 20% of it away as scrap.  You are entitled to own 10 pair of shoes, or 3 homes, or 4 winter coats.  You are entitled to it.....so pay no attention to that God who calls you to love your neighbor and to care for them.

We're talking about that voice that says...go ahead.  Be snarky, take more than your share, make fun of that weakling, ignore the system that incarcerates too many minority folk, give no thought to the ones who are hungry.

That's the devil.......who wants you to forget the God who created you, loves you and invites you to live a full life which includes life for all.  Good old Satan....he's a me, me, me kind of guy who works to shade the truth, grab your attention and leave you in the dust when it's all over.

Jesus, on the other hand, calls you brother and sister and who, by the time it is all over, will take the cross for the sake of love.  You are a baptized child of God.  Cling to that reality in the face of all.  Amen

....when I am good enough

Oh wow!  That's too true for words.  The kingdom of God will be ours when we are good enough.  How we hold onto this.....as if our lives depended on it.

Now, I'm a Lutheran and we pride ourselves (which might be a problem in itself) on preaching grace.  It is by grace you have been saved, not by your own works.  Jesus as the Son of God is God's gift to all of creation for the sake of creation.  Jesus' death points to the death dealing commitments of the current creation and his resurrection is the last word on who is in charge.  Life will be the last word, not because any of us deserve this wondrous gift of life with God but because God wants it to be that way for us.

See, I get it.

Until I don't.  Until the average attendance at church declines and I think I must solve this problem.  Until I avoid speaking with someone because I behaved badly the last time and I am embarrassed to face up to that truth.  Until I look in a mirror and rain down criticism on myself for not being perfect.  Until....I breathe my next breath.

We are strivers for sure....and that's not a criticism.  It is what works in this world most of the time.  It keeps us moving forward and working at improving ourselves and things around us.  Until...it becomes the source of our pride and our energy is expended in self-congratulations instead of building community.  Until we turn towards God and say, "Don't worry.  I've got this.  I can do this.  I'm good."  Then down the rabbit hole we slide again.

God created this world out of God's desire for this world.  It was God's gift to humankind.
God sent Jesus into this world out of God's desire for this world.  He was God's gift to humankind.
God is present among us as the Spirit because of God's desire for this world.  The Spirit is God's gift to humankind.

God invites us to live in the light and life of divine glory because that is God's desire for this world.  It is God's gift to humankind.  Gift.  Absolute gift.  To everyone.  You.  Me.

It is a radical gift that will bring about radical change.  You are already good enough.  God says so in Jesus Christ.  Some days that alone is too much for us to bear.

What does freedom look like?

"If you continually live in my Word....you will know the truth and the truth will set you free"  Jn8.31

Freedom.
To a 2 year old it looks like an open space where running is encouraged.
To a 14 year old it looks like a weekend without parental restraints.
To a 30 year old it looks like a job you like doing.
To a 45 year old it looks like no more college education to finance.
To a 60 year old it looks like retirement.
To a 80 year old it looks like a ride to the grocery store.

To a Christian it looks like the cross.  There we learn that God's love frees us from the crippling of sin in our lives and sets us totally free to be God's people everywhere, every time, and with every person.  We've got nothing to prove and God's love isn't going to run out.

Freed to be a child of God.  To love.  To serve.  To heal.  To forgive.  To share.

Lord, help me to live
as the person you know me to be.  Amen

Where is God....in the face of darkness?

Almost everyone, believer or not, turns to the God they cannot see in pain and grief and even anger at some time.  In our heart we are saying "It shouldn't be this hard' or 'What could I have possibly done to deserve this?' or 'I am at the very end of any strength I might have had.'

Crying out to God is not a sign of unbelief.  Go to the psalms and read the laments "How long, O Lord, how long?"  Crying out to God - even when you have no idea who or what or if God exists is fairly common.

The difference is this: believers turn to a God with whom they have a relationship while in the midst of some great darkness and when no explanation will make things right again.  They wrestle with God; sometimes for years. They turn towards a God who is hanging on a cross.  They demand an explanation; they demand some level of peace....they demand this from the God they know, not from a God they have imagined.  They demand this of a God whom they revere and who they unabashedly believe to be God.

They do this because they are people of hope, people of the resurrection.  When a believer runs into a brick wall she leans her head against it and says," Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy, Lord have mercy."  When he stands beside the graveside of his infant son he is looking straight into the darkness to find the God who has promised to be there.  She will still lose her house to foreclosure; he will grieve for years upon years...but they will not walk alone.  Trusting in God is hard work.

God is God of all things and at all times.  We like this when things are going well and are less sure the more things slide downhill.  Truth be told, we are often confounded by God when we look at the way things are turning out in this world.  God does not owe us an explanation.  God gave us the gift of Jesus, the incarnation of love for this world and when all else is darkness, it is to Jesus we cling.  The same Jesus who died on a cross.  The same Jesus who rose from the dead.  That Jesus.

Anything else you are clinging to is an idol - a false god - a god you have constructed in your own mind.  DIY is for Home Depot.  Don't go building yourself the god of your dreams only to wake up and find you've missed the God of the Universe.

Where is God? Part 2

Lots of folk ask this question.  There are a good number who believe God is no where - just doesn't exist.  If they ever feel anything like a connection with the divine they call it something else.  Although I have a very limited experience of atheists, I'd expect they do not conceive of a life force larger than the individual.

So, I'm not talking about those folks...the ones with a consistent, thought out approach to the truth of God.  They do not change their tune when they get cancer, or their child crashes the car in the early hours of the morning or when they are mugged at gunpoint.  None of this has anything to do with God and they would not take their complaints to any God nor expect some kind of explanation.  This is not to say that these folks have no interest in justice or mercy because that's just not true.

I'm talking about the folks who are closet 'experts' on God.  They are in the closet because you'd never guess they had any serious thoughts about God until one of the above disasters enters their life. They have pretended that your faith or faithfulness are better left undiscussed.  They have not sought enlightenment from any of the world's religious teachings about God.  They have not participated in a faith community who gains its identity from God.  They have no relationship with any God beyond the requisite "you are in my thoughts and prayers" (even when they don't pray) or the famous icey road prayer, "O God deliver me!"

Then comes disaster and they become experts.  God should have....where was God when.....what good is God if this happens....   On and on it goes, often concluding with "I can never believe in a God who allows ....to happen."

So, it's just at these moments, when 'the cross' is so unavoidable, when the darkness of this world threatens to overwhelm, that we who are children of this God are critical.  We are God's presence in the midst of their loss.  We carry the light of God's tomorrow into their prison cell of fear and sorrow.  What we say and do at these moments reflects powerfully on the God in whom we believe.

So, think twice, pray three times and most of the time say nothing.  Don't make promises you cannot fulfill.  Don't claim to know what God is thinking, or doing.  In word and deed, let them know that Jesus wept at Lazarus' tomb and God weeps with them.  No self-righteousness allowed.  No trying to soften the sting of death.  Just the truth of God's deep love for them especially in this time of loss.

Because, you see, that is when your relationship with God began: when the darkness threatened to devour you and the love of God gave you something to which to cling.  Bring that God into their presence and then depend on the Holy Spirit to lead you and them into new life.  Be a little Christ to the other so that the other may seek Christ through you.