The Scent and the Truth

On the rare occasion I run into a scent like what my first girlfriend wore in 1988, I am delivered back to that time, whether I want it or not.

I have a desire, perhaps idealistic, that my life could have been monolithic, been a single story, consistent, moving in one meaningful direction, without diversion or division.  But those days, months, and years that I committed myself to ideas and people who ended up being, at least in my life, dead ends, are for me segmented parts of my history, inconsistent, non-contiguous with the rest of who I am today.

The point I take from this is that as much as the whiff of that ancient scent takes me back to a good feeling, it takes me back to a connection with someone I didn’t commit my life to.  I see, so clearly now, what a bad idea it would have been for her to have married me, in the immature and relationally destructive state I was in at the time.  I look back and wish everything in my life, my decisions, my choices, my commitments, could have all flowed consistently and naturally into the commitment I made to the woman who ended up as my wife some fourteen years later, and the life she and I have made together.  Those broken-off segments of my life are some of my regrets.

If I teach my children to hold back, to not commit to people and ideas that might be false, would that be foolish?  Are we better served by more of a risk-taker’s attitude that always tries different things?  Or is this another area where tension serves the Truth?  Maybe the best answer is in the tension between striving for purity, for a narrative of our life indicating deep and consistent commitment to Christ and following His leading, on the one hand, and on the other hand realizing the value of trying and failing, to learn more about who we are and who God is, learning in ways we couldn’t learn without the risk.

We All Will Die

We see lives limited only by age and medicine, shaking our heads to throw off thoughts of tragedy. We have our reasons, our assumptions about these lives, this era, this country and culture, that lead us to conclusions about our future.  Sure, bad things can happen, but we can't live by assuming the paranoid worst, day after day. Or so we say, raising the straw man of an extreme.

The answer, perhaps, is in how we hold on lightly, cradle our vision of the future gently in a balanced hand. We have to assume something. But can we assume a spectrum instead of a point? Can the point we stare at be the faithfulness and loving companionship of the Father, and not a narrow pattern of comfortable  circumstances where we are in control?

Poverty and the Government

If the primary actor in society that is caring for the poor is the government, they will ultimately fall back on the threat of violence (the very essence of government) to address poverty.  The system functions, not because the wealthy reach out relationally in love to the poor in ongoing, face to face interactions, but because the government's implicit threat of violence forces the wealthy to pay their taxes.

If a society is relying on the government to address poverty, it has already failed. The government is not equipped for this task.

Poverty is never a simple problem. It is always and everywhere complex, emotional, and messy. Financial poverty is often just a way to externally measure a whole host of deeper, bigger problems. And usually there is more than one underlying problem. There is a tangled mess of problems.

Love, that is, the ongoing sacrifice of oneself and one's resources for the benefit of another over the course of time, all from a position of privilege in one or more areas, is the only basis for effectively addressing poverty.

The enemy Loves the Welfare State

  • The enemy wants to hinder the work of the church.
  • Fighting poverty, leading people to glorify God by helping them fulfill their created potential, is part of the work of the church.
  • To the degree that the government takes the lead in fighting poverty, the church is lulled into neglect of their role in this part of their mission.
    • Paying taxes is immensely more passive and less participatory in the work of helping the poor than "getting one's hands dirty" and loving the poor face to face.
  • Therefore, the enemy wants the government to take the lead in fighting poverty.

Of course, this is consistent with "Give to God's what is God's, and to Caesar what is Caesar's," and the commands in Matthew 25 that say caring for the poor is a role that belongs to the body of Christ, not the body of Caesar.

Listen

Listen. 

You're sure they're wrong, but listen anyway. 

Just listen. 

You'll discover more about them by listening to them unburden their soul. And maybe they will learn more about themselves as well. We often learn what's inside of us, who we really are, when someone opens the door to letting us open up. 

So listen. 

If you don't understand, ask clarifying questions, not to cross-examine them, but to open the door further, to shed more light, to see more details of what they care about, how they see the world. 

Exert your strength through generosity. Give them the space to bloom, to open up and show you the beauty that God has planted within them. 

At the end of it all, maybe you'll be just as convinced of how wrong they are. But hopefully you'll understand more of why they believe and think and act the way they do. 

Maybe you'll never see eye to eye with them on these matters. But knowing someone on the other side, someone you know as a person and not just an anonymous slur, will enrich your soul. And if you are challenged by the person and ideas you encounter, perhaps through the process you will be stronger, and just that much more aligned with what is, just that much more deeply rooted in the Truth. 

So listen. 

Part of My Vision

I'm sympathetic to liberals and others who feel like society is always ready to fall apart at the seams, that chaos is shaking and tearing at our country all the time, and that the government seems like the skeleton, the structure, the source of stability that will prevent a complete meltdown. In that worldview, the effort of conservatives and libertarians to reduce the size and reach of government feels like an attempt to abandon the future and promise of society to the forces of selfishness, to a dog-eat-dog, Darwinian natural selection that can only result in the destruction of civilization, the victory of the vicious over the vulnerable.

But my vision of society contains an element, makes central an element, that cannot be assumed by secular theoreticians, philosophers, and politicians. I assume that the church will be the church, that Christians will step up and accept the responsibility of obeying God's commands of us. Selfishness can motivate us to work hard and earn a high income, but so can biblical principles of duty and financially ethical behavior. And once wealth has been earned, a society of those earners and others who are looking for ways to truly build up others in their community with love can make an enormous difference in the lives of the poor and vulnerable. A real and lasting benefit can be brought to such lives via a long-term, serious commitment by followers of Christ.

Unlike the image held of conservatives by liberals and progressives, I don't oppose things like single-payer health care or a social safety net because I want to see the poor and vulnerable suffer. I want to see the vulnerable do better than they're doing today. I believe that Christians who are committed to the well-being of all people in their communities can work together, pool resources, and build relationships to bring an uplifting and positive change to a degree that is impossible for tax-funded government work.

Obeying the Voice of God

When God prompts me with the right thing that I should be doing at that moment, too often I treat it like any other option that randomly pops into my head. But it's not random, it's purposeful. And it's not just any option, it's (by definition) the best thing, the right thing to do, because it's God's answer.

The counter question is what if it's not from God? What if it is just another option? Well, first, I started this thought on the assumption that you already know it's from God. Second, though, even if you're not sure, remember this: even when He's silent, God is present to everything that's happening within you, more present and more aware of all of it than you yourself are. So He's completely aware of this thought entering your mind. If you're like me, you need to deepen your obedience. So what you need is to practice obedience. As long as it's not clearly destructive, it's better to obey it (and practice in good faith obedience in the assumption that it is from God) than to not, and thereby reinforce autonomy, cynicism, and the like.

What You Need for Hope

John‬ ‭1:6-8, 19-28; Luke 7:2-35

I wish I could tell you that it will be easy. I wish for myself that it was easy. I wish that following Jesus in every moment, seamlessly weaving His glory and wisdom and love into every action and conversation was as natural as breathing. But I know it's not that easy for me, and I'll bet it's not that easy for you. But was it even easy for John the Baptist?

In Luke 7 we see John, trapped in prison, sending his followers to ask Jesus if He was really the Expected One, the Messiah.  John!  The one who recognized Jesus as “the Lamb of God,” who baptized him!  How could he doubt?  His followers had just told him about Jesus healing someone from miles away, and Jesus bringing a dead man to life.  How could John possibly think that anyone else could be the Messiah?  And if John could think that, with all that firsthand and secondhand proof, then how can we ever be confident and secure in our faith?

As an answer, Jesus quotes variations on phrases from Isaiah 35:5-6, all of which were true: people being healed from all sorts of maladies and infirmities.  But I have to think Jesus knew that John knew what came right before that passage.  In Isaiah 35:3-4 it says “Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees. Say to those who have an anxious heart, 'Be strong; fear not! Behold, your God will come with vengeance, with the recompense of God. He will come and save you.'”

We don’t know the entire terrain of John’s journey, either geographical or spiritual.  We don’t know how deep his doubt was, or how long he held it.  And we know that Jesus, presumably somehow for the glory of God, did not act to spring John from prison.  But to the one who had so boldly prepared the way for the Awaited One, but had fallen into doubt, Jesus pointed forth to the fulfillment of all things, which we still wait for today.

Waiting is not easy.  But God, who knows and loves you infinitely, will not leave you without hope.  He knows what you need to build your hope.  That doesn’t mean easy answers.  But if you want to hope, if you want to find hope in Him, you will be provided what you need to build and cling to His hope, to reach out and cling to Him.

Mimicked Symbols

Does it bring any glory or credit or power to Jesus if someone who's never heard of Him wears a cross, say, as a necklace? If a person owns a T-shirt with a Bible verse printed on it in English, but can't themselves read or understand English, and they wear it among people who also understand no English, does it bring praise or worship to God? Do Bible verses or Christian symbols carry some magic power in and of themselves, or is the power carried by the meaning known to the people who see or read or understand it? If a shaman, completely unfamiliar with the Bible or Christianity, happens to utter one of the many names of the living God in one of his spells, does the spell suddenly carry more power?

Similarly, if a non-Christian religion takes natural objects, objects created by the living God, and modifies and uses those objects in ways that dishonor the Creator and His intent for people and such objects, are those objects or objects like them permanently ruined? Do such objects inherently and unchangeably carry a power that honors the false God? And if the pattern or design of such objects is copied, mimicked by people who don't know the way they were twisted, don't know the meaning that the false religion assigned to the objects or patterns, are those later people inherently and unchangeably honoring the false religion, worshipping the false god?

Emotional Precision

I want to not focus on the latest tragedies, at any given time. I don't want to be manipulated by events and media coming from other places and people. Part off that is probably a resistance to the out-of-control feeling of grieving. Grieving for those we knew, or had some substantive connection to, is legitimate and appropriate. But I have a harder time allowing myself to be drawn into the flood of emotion, the helpless feeling of drowning, swept away and around by the currents of events and of evil, for people I only have a tenuous, distant connection (if any) to.

Instead I make efforts to resist this wearying overwhelming, while not cynically denying the humanity of the grieving, or the legitimacy of their pain. One way I do this is to look for the bigger picture. If someone was killed, and injustice in that instance sprang forth, however painful and real the event was, was it an anomaly or part of a pattern? Is it part of an improving pattern, or are things worsening? Is it possible that this event was bad, but the overall pattern is one of improvement? Can we acknowledge and support the legitimacy of mourning and passion for an event, but see a measure of hope in positive movement in a larger pattern?

What I don't want is for an evil instance to overshadow a better pattern, for the unjust anomaly to become an excuse for politicians to grab power to solve a problem that already is moving in a positive direction. And of course if there really is a pattern of festering, unaddressed injustice, and the nature of the problem is truly responsive to governmental action, then I absolutely would support action to address that.

But in my understanding and observation and experience, the problem most often is not that new principles and laws need to be created and put into practice. Creating effective law is hard, and fraught with the gravity towards unintended consequences. Much more often the requisite principles are already embodied in existing laws and structures; they are just not being implemented in good faith, with a full effort.

Black Boxes of Mystery in Our Heads

We have all put together in our head the way we think the world works. If x goes into process A, then y will come out of it. But if we all have a different understanding of how the black box of mystery that is Process A actually works, we will come to very different conclusions. So if one person's life experiences and the explanation for the world that they received growing up said that guns are powerful but necessary tools that help keep safe the people we love, then it's natural to say that people at a mass shooting would be safer if a few responsible people with guns were there.

But if you were raised only seeing guns in the movies, only as tools of violence and destruction, if you've never seen a need for one in your own direct experience, and no one has explained to you the legitimate uses for guns and how they can be a natural, even reassuring and comforting thing, then the idea that a chaotic scene of carnage would be limited or even stopped by private citizens with guns would seem ludicrous. You're likely instead to think that more guns would have only led to more chaos, more madness and death.

We all have ideas in our heads about how the world really works.

This is a Cup

I remember the old game where people sit in a circle and pass around simple items (like a cup), saying "This is a cup. A what? A cup. A what? A cup. Oh, a cup." And then they would pass the item, receive a different item, and continue the game.

I'm reminded of this game during communion today. Every week we do basically the same things, over and over again. It's similar to this game. "This is a cup." Then the presider often gives a meditation that answers some part of the question "A what?" We go through this weekly, repeatedly, like the game. And we need the repetition. Eventually we hopefully "get it," saying "Oh, a cup."

Weekly communion doesn't at all have to devolve into trite, rote, meaningless repetition. Sometimes the repetition is more like the hammering of a nail. Every hit of the hammer was necessary to get the nail where it was meant to go. We need every iteration of the Table to allow God to work on us.