today i witnessed another arrest at gunpoint. luckily this time i didn’t find myself in the line of fire. maybe i should start my own version of “cops”. but i’d have to carry a video camera…
also a way to reframe the question in the last post. or at least bring it into a different context:
what if Job had a therapist?
the question that keeps repeating over and over in my heart and my head is:
“where is the line between ‘take up your cross’ and ‘take care of yourself’?”
what suffering is ordained to us as followers of Christ and what suffering are we justified in removing ourselves from so that we can remain followers of Christ?
where is the line?
I am once again struck by the story of Abraham.
Abraham who not only left the land he knew so well because God told him to – but who also waited for years for a promise to be fulfilled. Waited so long he almost forgot the promise had been made.
When we hear this story of Abraham and Sarah laughing when they’re told of the baby to arrive in their household, we often concentrate on how they doubted the ability of God to make a barren woman conceive. But maybe we’re talking about that doubt in the wrong context. I mean, let’s be honest, Abraham and Sarah have already done a lot for God – and they haven’t gotten much out of it. I can almost see them – sitting around their tent on another hot day in the desert, with no family or friends, and a long hike to the nearest water source, thinking “why in God’s name are we here?” This “Yahweh” dude had told the that all sorts of cool stuff would happen if they moved away from home, but it sure didn’t seem to be happening. It had to be lonely. They must have wondered what they’d done to themselves.
And then these two visitors came.
Now, I don’t know about you, but when strangers knock at my door, I’m more likely to think they’re trying to sell me something – whether that be products or religion – than to welcome them in as messengers from God. And, for Abraham and Sarah, it must seem that these visitors are just here to mock them. They’ve heard about the two strangers living in the desert, and they’ve decided to go out and see it with their own eyes.
And so when Abraham and Sarah laugh at the strangers pronouncement, they believe they are simply joining in the fun, laughing at what all their neighbors identify as their silly idealism – faith that goes just a little too far, beyond what is practical.
In truth, however, those strangers were not their to make fun. They were a reminder. A reminder of a God who keeps his promises, even when his people have forgotten. Who keeps his promises even when people have given up or started to take matters into their own hands.
But let’s not allow this story to induce guilt. Let’s not allow it to mean that we must categorically believe ever foolish thing that could be explained away by “just have faith.” Instead, let us allow this story to liberate us – to open us up to live our lives, to take care of ourselves, to do what seems right, to be angry, to mourn, to doubt.
The story of Abraham teaches us that no matter what, we cannot screw up God’s promises to us. We cannot convince him we are undeserving, we cannot talk him out of what he says he will do. When we run away, God will be right behind us. When we doubt, God will act to inspire faith. And when, after weeks and months and years of waiting, we give up on God’s promises, God will appear in the most unexpected way…just to prove us wrong.
 Reply |
Forward |
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream – and not make dreams your master;
If you can think – and not make thought your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ‘em up with worn-out tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings – nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And – which is more – you’ll be a man, my son!
Rudyard Kipling
