Gloom, despair, and agony on me, Deep, dark depression, excessive misery, If it weren't for bad luck I'd have no luck at all, Gloom, despair, and agony on me!This classic ditty from Hee Haw has stuck with me through the years, both because it's a catchy little song and because it sometimes describes the way I feel. There are times when life just doesn't seem fair. I feel like I've done all I was supposed to do, all I could do, and still things don't work out. Whether it's problems on the job, personal problems, financial problems, it sometimes seems that life is a never-ending stream of affliction. Maybe I should have been a Buddhist, because the Buddha taught that "life is suffering," or perhaps "life is impermanence." Or maybe I should have become a pupil of Eliphaz the Temanite, one of Job's friends, who said, "Just as sparks fly upward in the flame, so was man born to suffer" (that's my translation, with apologies to Linus). Or, to adopt the theology of a bumper sticker I once saw, "Life sucks, then you die." Now I don't feel like this all the time, but I do often enough to appreciate the fact that the type of Christianity that proclaims that God always showers blessings on the faithful is fatally flawed. Elijah was a man of great faith and courage, yet in today's reading from Kings, there he sits under a broom tree, begging God to take his life. Despite his accomplishments, regardless of all that he's seen God do through and around him, he is in despair for his life, and he wonders whether his life has been worth living. God, of course, assures him that it is, appearing to him in the profound silence, the gentle breeze, or the still, small voice, depending on how the verse is translated. Today my focus is not on the still, small voice but on Elijah himself and how I see him reflected in me. We remember Elijah today as a courageous opponent of the prophets of Baal and of the wicked queen Jezebel, so it's easy to forget his moments of doubt. But doubt is characteristic of many of the giants of faith through the ages. Martin Luther was wracked with doubt and even depression from time to time. Joan of Arc suffered a crisis of faith and temporarily doubted God's call in her life while in prison. Mother Theresa admitted that she sometimes doubted the very existence of God as she saw the suffering around her. And Jesus himself, praying in the Garden of Gethsemane, asked God three times to find a different way, any other way, than the cross. But doubt wasn't the final word in the life of Jesus, nor was it in the lives of Luther, Mother Theresa, Joan of Arc, or Elijah. Nor will it be in my life. Yes, hard times come, and I sometimes despair, but regardless of the circumstances, despite the feelings of gloom and despair that often oppress me, I know that God is with me. Whether I will ultimately triumph, whether I will be remembered for my faithfulness or my accomplishments I don't know, and it doesn't really matter. I understand that, as investment documents state, "past performance is no guarantee of future results." All I know is that, as in the case of Elijah, God has a plan, even though I may not see it, and it's my duty to do my best to carry out that plan as God reveals it to me. The end results aren't dependent upon me, but upon God. It's better that way.
Psalms 42-43 (first published 20 June 2004)
I come to the garden alone, While the dew is still on the roses, And the voice I hear falling on my ear The Son of God discloses. And he walks with me and he talks with me, And he tells me I am his own; And the joy we share as we tarry there None other has ever known.One day when I was sitting in a seminary class, the topic of hymns came up. "I'll tell you the hymn I really don't like," one student said, "'In the Garden.' You know, 'He walks with me and he talks with me.' It's nothing but shallow sentimentality." I've always liked that hymn, because for some reason it struck a special chord in me when I was younger, so I spoke up in dissent. "It's no more sentimental than Psalm 42, which says, 'As a deer longs for flowing streams, so my soul longs for you, O God.'" Is Christianity a religion of reason, or is it a religion of emotion? I think both are necessary to appreciate the depths of the divine-human encounter. Christianity is a religion of the mind, fully compatible with the Enlightenment. It is based on the life and teachings of the historical Jesus, and it offers the intelligent believer an unlimited challenge as he or she seeks to understand God fully. It is also a religion of the soul, taking in the spirit of the Romantic period. It portrays a God who is enshrouded in mystery and beauty, and it offers the sensitive believer a personal encounter with the creator of the universe. The psalmist understood the absolute necessity for a personal encounter with God. "Why are you cast down, O my soul?" Because God seems to have abandoned him. What will restore joy to him? God's guiding presence in his life. Fundamentalism, like Deism, runs the risk of creating a version of Christianity that is so focused on intellectual analysis of God that it is devoid of a true, emotional relationship with God. May our souls truly long for God as we pursue an intellectually honest, spiritually meaningful, and emotionally fulfilling life.
Galatians 3:23-29 (first published 20 June 2004)
Legalism is a problem that has plagued Christianity from the very
beginning, from the Judaizers who insisted that Gentile believers follow
the rigors of the Jewish law (as they understood it), to many contemporary
Christians who claim that true Christians must hold a certain set of
beliefs and reject others in order to really be a Christian. Yes, there
are doctrines that are central to Christianity, but even such bedrock
notions as the Resurrection or the Trinity can be--and are--understood in
a variety of ways. Paul portrays the Law as something that is good, but
also as something that should be transcended in a mature faith. This
understanding applies as well to modern versions of legalism as it did to
the Law reflected in the understanding of certain Jewish leaders of Paul's
day. The Law may dictate a hierarchical structure, in which men are
superior to women, or in which one ethnic group or social class is better
than another. This Law must be overcome, because in Christ all people are
equal. We can learn from the Law both positive and negative lessons, but
in the end, the Law doesn't dictate what we are to believe or how we are
to live. Only through an authentic, ongoing encounter with the living God
can we become the people God wants us to be. Many of us reject certain
forms of legalism, yet we hang on to our own form. Maybe we reject
fundamentalist strictures regarding the necessity of believing in biblical
inerrancy, yet at the same time we insist that others agree with our
understanding of salvation through Jesus Christ. We need to replace our
legalism with love. Legalism separates believers from one another, but
love binds us together. We will never show the world God's love by
demanding that people follow our understanding of faith, but we might just
be successful if we respect their beliefs, while demonstrating our love
through concrete actions.
Luke 8:26-39 (first published 20 June 2004)
In the biblical story of Balaam, Balaam is riding his donkey down the road, after being invited by King Balak to come curse the Israelites. On three separate occasions the donkey sees the angel of the Lord blocking their way and turns aside, only to be beaten by Balaam. Finally, after the third beating, the donkey turns to Balaam and berates him for striking him, when all he was doing was trying to save Balaam's life. The story begs the question, "Who is the real jackass?" Humans, for all their intellectual ability, sometimes don't behave very intelligently. In today's Gospel reading from Luke, Jesus encounters a demon-possessed man, and the demons beg to be cast into a herd of pigs rather than just "cast out." Jesus acquiesces to their request, but the pigs immediately run down the hill and drown themselves in the Sea of Galilee. It seems that the pigs were smarter than the man, preferring death to life under the control of Satan. Many people today are just as pig-headed--or rather, in the light of this story, where the pigs were smarter--human-headed. Unlike the demoniac in the story, they live their lives without any recognition that they are under the control of demonic forces (whether taken literally or figuratively). They support the demonic policy of virtually unlimited war. They oppress women and minorities. They disrespect and even blaspheme other religions. They vote for candidates who promise to kick back money in the form of tax rebates to them and their friends, while ignoring the plight of the poor, inadequate schools, and nonexistence health care. When we engage in evil, regardless of whether we are aware of it or not, we are like the demoniac in the story, and we need Jesus to cleanse us from our errors. Another lesson from this story is that evil kills, but not necessarily the one who is evil. The demoniac freed from his oppressors unharmed, but both the pigs and their owners suffered, either physically or economically. Like the demoniac, the first thing we need to do is to identify the evil that is in our lives and cast it away from us. Then we will be in a position to follow Jesus, free of our moral encumbrances.