Job 23:1-9, 16-17 (first published 12 October 2003)
The Bible contains several stories about people who were terrified to
find themselves in the presence of the almighty God. The Israelites at
the foot of Mt. Sinai tremble in the presence of God. Isaiah in the
temple cries out "Woe is me, for I have seen the Lord of Hosts!" Rudolf
Otto, in The Idea of the Holy, speaks of the mysterium
tremendum, the mysterious presence of God that makes one tremble in
fear. Job, however, wishes he could confront God and plead his case. He
would point out that his righteous behavior does not merit such treatment
from God. He would insist that he is being treated unfairly. For Job,
the only thing that is more terrifying than the presence of God is the
absence of God. Verses 9 and 10 read like the exact opposite of Psalm 139:7-12, where the psalmist find God wherever
he looks. Life is like that sometimes. When things are dark, sometimes
we can't sense God's presence with us. We seek God, but God is nowhere to
be found. We look for reasons to why our lives are crumbling, but God
gives us no answer. We scream into the dark night, but God doesn't seem
to hear. Why does God hide from us in our hour of need? Why doesn't he
answer our prayers? Old Testament theologian Samuel Terrien says that
God's apparent absence is actually God's elusive presence. God is present
even in his absence. To quote the Buddhist/Taoist writer known as Wei Wu
Wei, "Presence and absence are dual forms of appearance." God is not at
our beck and call. We sometimes feel the presence of God, but often we
only feel God's absence. In those times, how do we know that God is still
out there? We know because we know whose absence we are seeking. God is
such a powerful presence, that even when God is nowhere to be found, we
sense God lurking in the shadows. Like Job, we continue to cry out to
God, because God's absence is paradoxically an elusive presence. In the
depths of our despair, when all hope seems lost, we continue to cry out to
God. Sometimes we will feel like God is with us, and sometimes we won't,
but in the mysteries of God's sovereignty, even God's absence can draw us
toward God.
Psalm 22:1-15 (first published 12 October 2003)
In Matthew and Mark, the only words that Jesus speaks from the cross
are the opening words of this psalm, "My God, my God, why have you
forsaken me?" The words were certainly appropriate for Jesus, and they
are appropriate for many people today as well. Unlike Job, who is
surrounded by people who is sure that his sufferings are the result of
sin, the psalmist is surrounded by enemies who mock him for his
righteousness. Both the words of the self-righteous and the words of the
unrighteous hurt those who suffer. What is it about human nature that so
often causes us to heap abuse on the heads of those who are going through
difficult times? The German word Schadenfreude describes a
situation in which one person takes pleasure in the suffering of another.
All too often believers fall victim to that sin. Maybe we think the
person deserves to be suffering, so he's getting his just deserts. Maybe
we think that the person has had such a carefree like that it's high time
she suffered a little bit. Maybe we just don't like the person, so we're
secretly glad to see him experience a little pain. Schadenfreude
happens on an individual scale, but it also takes place on an
international scale. When a heat wave struck France and killed many
people last summer, how many Americans, angry at their opposition to the
war on Iraq, thought that they were getting what they deserved? How many
Americans' first reaction to seeing the gruesome photos of Uday and Qusay
Hussein, who were killed in a military raid in July, was satisfaction?
We all saw the joyous reaction of some Palestinians upon hearing the news
about the attacks on the World Trade Center two years ago and were aghast
that people could rejoice in the misery of others. If we're honest,
aren't we sometimes guilty of the same thing? I remember hearing the news
many years ago that Ayatollah Khomeini had died. I felt a sense of grim
satisfaction at his passing, yet at the same time I was appalled at
feeling that way. Why do we all too often take pleasure in the
difficulties that others experience? Perhaps it's because we are holding
grudges rather than practicing forgiveness. Maybe it's because we harbor
jealousy or prejudice toward others. We certainly wouldn't be happy about
the sufferings of people that we loved the way that God loves us. Loving
our enemies is not about gushy feelings or meaningless gestures. It is
about trying to walk in their shoes, to understand their point of view.
If we could understand just a little bit about our enemies and see things
from their perspective, it would be hard to rejoice over their misfortune.
The ability to see things through the eyes of others is the first step
toward learning to love them, as Jesus commanded us.
Hebrews 4:12-16 (first published 12 October 2003)
In the movie The Truman Show, Truman--played by Jim
Carrey--grows up in an artificial world, surrounded by hidden cameras that
record his every move. Billions of viewers all over the world see him
take his first steps, go to school for the first time, and get his first
kiss. The whole world watches everything he does, twenty-four hours a
day. Because he doesn't know that he is being watched, he is able to live
what he thinks of as a normal life. However, once he begins to suspect
that something isn't quite right with his world, he gets the feeling that
people are watching him, and he is no longer able to live a normal
(fictional) life. The author of Hebrews says that the word of God has an
even greater level of perception than the people who watched the Truman
show. The word of God is able even to discern thoughts and intentions.
Some people picture God sitting on the heavenly throne waiting to pounce
on them if they get out of line. Others resent God's continual
observation, as though God were a voyeur, and they wish God would turn God's
attention elsewhere for just a little while. Unlike Job and the psalmist,
who long for God's presence, these people feel God's constant vigilance
oppressive. If we can get beyond the idea of God as a heavenly cop who
can't wait to bust a perp, we might begin to think that the idea of God's
penetrating, insightful word (or, better, reason) is actually something
positive. How often do our spouses misunderstand our motives, or do our
children take something we say the wrong way, or do our co-workers
misinterpret our intentions? With God, misunderstandings are not an
issue. God knows if our heart is good and our intentions are pure, even
when we manage to mess up our lives royally. We don't know the right
words to say to someone who is grieving, but God knows our heart. We
stand falsely accused of a workplace intrigue, but God knows that we did
nothing untoward. We say something rude and intemperate to our spouse,
who rejects our apologies, but God understands that we didn't mean it and
that we really are sorry. Because God knows us so well, God is always on
our side. Of course, God's understanding of the depths of our beings
means that God also sees our weaknesses, prejudices, jealousy, pettiness,
and selfishness. The good news is that, because we know that God sees
these negative aspects of our lives, we have some incentive to clean up
our acts. God is a God of mercy and love. God isn't waiting behind a
tree to clobber us when we walk by. God loves us and constantly seeks to
bring us back into the right way. The bad news is that we can't hide
anything from God. The good news is, we don't have to.
Mark 10:17-31 (first published 12 October 2003)
Proponents of the health and wealth gospel teach their followers that riches are a sign of God's blessing. They say this despite the clear teaching of Jesus concerning the danger of riches. "How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of heaven!" Jesus' advice to the rich young ruler was shocking: "Go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me!" That wasn't what the rich man was hoping to hear. He had hoped that Jesus would lay a new commandment (hopefully not a very difficult one!) on him and bid him to take the new path. The rich man was shocked by this advice, and he left, apparently to return to his old life. Most of us don't think of ourselves as rich, but when we compare our situations to those of the poor throughout the world, and even here at home, we recognize how rich we really are. Are our riches inhibiting our entrance into the kingdom of God? Americans work longer hours per week and have less vacation time than just about any other workers in the industrialized world, yet we look for part-time work to supplement our already relatively large incomes. The call of the almighty dollar is strong, but we must resist it. It might be that neither height nor depth can keep us from God, but money seems to be able to. It's not the money itself that is the problem; it's the power that money wields in the hands of those who have a lot of it. Money represents power and acquisition, and humans seem to have an innate desire for both. This natural tendency, though, stands in contrast to the example of Jesus, who taught that Christians should be characterized by humility and giving. Jesus did not lay this hard commandment on the rich young ruler in order to turn him away. Instead, Jesus hoped that he would turn from the slavery to money to the freedom of following Jesus. God hopes the same for us today.