Broken Bodies

I appreciated Smith's language about his daughter when he said, "she finally rested her tired body" (or something to that effect, I don't have the book with me). It reminds of several people I know, one of whom is my wife, whose bodies just don't work right. In many respects they experience life as the ups and downs of pain. One day they may feel closer to normal, how they used to feel before, and other days its just a constant struggle to maintain.

There is a certain trend in theological circles to view salvation primarily as a this-worldly kind of thing. I'm really all for that, that's kind of what we're doing when we're reading a book about spiritual disciplines: learning how to be saved, through the work of the Holy Spirit, from our own this-worldly brokenness. But usually when I hear or read something from this persuasion it is at the expense of past other-worldly salvation ideals. Those old ideas about one day going to heaven sound too much like escapism, quietism, and a host of other problems that we could do without today.

But as I encounter people with broken bodies, whose bodies never give them a chance to feel normal; whose bodies stop them from feeling pretty, stop them from feeling capable, stop them from feeling like they can do anything else but survive...as I continue to see this in the elderly and young alike, I believe that the promise of heaven where are bodies are made new is not such a bad idea.

Heaven is a part of God's justice in an vulnerable world. We are made vulnerable: vulnerable to sin, vulnerable to diseases, vulnerable to powers that could care less about us. Many of us will not experience any recompense for this vulnerability and the evils that result from it. Part of God's justice has to be in a Heaven where our bodies are pulled out of the wreckage, held, loved, and made new.

I have this hope for Sierra, and I think its part of God's love and justice to share this hope with those whose bodies and lives are broken. Not in a condescending or thoughtless way, but as the hope that we will all experience the comfort in another world that our lives never afforded us in this one.

Play it again Sam

I've been thinking about how easy it is to go through my daily routine without much awareness. I can get so focused in on what I have to do that day or that week, that I can bypass most every detail that doesn't concern my to do list. I'm learning that it's often a protection for me. I very much identify with what Eddie shared yesterday, the noise and busyness helps us avoid the questions and fears that come up when we're alone.

This morning we had some study/prayer time as a staff, and I was reminded how even my noticing / awareness can become a distraction, a place to hide. What I mean is that it's easy for me to notice something, to think I have it figured out, and thus don't have to think about it anymore. Whether that's how pretty a flower is, the song of a bird, or the point of one of Jesus' parables, I've got it. That is, until something happens...like it did last week for me.

And I'm exposed. I haven't been noticing, I've been checking things off a list. I'm not aware of God's goodness, I'm expecting Him to bless me and do His part while I do mine. The "God is an angry judge" narrative that I thought I'd put behind me rears it's ugly head once again.

And yet:

"The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,
His mercies never come to an end.
They are new every morning, great is Thy faithfulness." Lamentations 3:22-23

Once again I hear the Spirit calling me back into His presence, to be silent and still and listen. To be reminded that even nature speaks to the reality that God is good, and no matter what we face, He is with us. Thank you Lord for the grace to learn again what you've shown me so many times, increase my faith and transform me from the inside out.

Dealing with the Noise of Silence

The training exercise for reflecting on the goodness of God is silence. For a borderline extrovert, multi-tasking ball of distraction like me, silence ihas not been seen as a blessing and benefit. When I was a kid, being sent to my room was punishment. Losing my radio or television privileges was punishment. I recharge in noise—or, perhaps, I hide in noise.

I have begun to think that my frenetic nature gives my fears and flaws their hiding place. In the distraction, I find a pseudo-comfort—a false peace. So when I hear: "Be still and know that I am God," I want to counteroffer and ask God if I can meet him in the storm, walk to him on rolling waves, come to him in chaos…and sometimes he meets me in just those places. Still—

Still, there waits a better place to meet God. God waits in the silence of the early morning. God waits in the night, offering a better bedtime blessing than Leno and Letterman can muster. God waits in the solitude of wilderness, the quietness of isolation. This is a very difficult discipline for me because in silence and solitary communion with God, the persons I fear most show up-Satan and myself. Satan shows up to accuse me. I show up with all of my imperfections-the ways I have disappointed myself and others laid bare. The noise of silence is composed of the sound of my busyness and the sound of the evil prosecuting attorney railing against me. Is it noisy like that for you, too?

So my wife Annette tells me to wait in faith through the noise. It will diminish. God will wait for it to subside. Satan will withdraw. The din of the world will quieten. But, she says, the noise comes first. To get to the silence, we must sit with and outlast the noise in faith until the rowdiness of life stills and the devil's charges are overwhelmed by the assurance of grace. It will come. Let us go to the silence.

In The Deep, Dark Place of Our Pain and Sorrow

In chapter two of The Good and Beautiful God, we are invited to think about the problem of evil in the world. Smith's story of the death of his daughter clears our illusions that he does not know enough about loss to feel the contradiction between the goodness of God and the evil in the world.

We know that tension, too. I have stumbled across cemeteries after doing the funerals of babies. My eyes were too filled with tears and my heart of full of pain to walk. I have stood in the viewing room with the wife and family of my best friend with him laid in state in a fine casket. I have held my wife's hand as she went into surgery with questions about her cancer and have held her in my arms after the surgery when all of the pathology was so dark and negative. And my experiences are not as dark and desperate as some. Probably not as difficult as yours as you read this.

Into this same world of pain and faithful doubt, Jesus has a word that we hear in this chapter. Jesus says in Luke 13 that bad people do bad things and that the physics of the world makes accidents possible. Neither of these circumstances argue against the goodness of God. From John 9 Jesus teaches that difficult circumstances are often unrelated to human sin, but do offer the opportunity for the power and love of God to be displayed. The easy equation that sin creates pain and trouble is sometimes correct; but not nearly always. Beware of simple, wrong answers to life's questions.

Here is what we know and pin our hopes on:
God is good-always.
Jesus intercedes for us-always.
The Holy Spirit prays what is unprayable out of us-always.
God will make all things right in due time-for sure.

In the deep, dark place of our pain and sorrow shines the light of God's goodness.
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases. I believe; help my unbelief.

Spiritual Exercises

So, Sarah and I run 5 times a week.  So far we've run 2 half marathons and one 10K and are looking at some more races to run in the future.  I have come to understand very well the value of exercise in my physical and emotional life.

However, when I hear about spiritual exercise (or spiritual discipline) my mind immediately starts to balk.  Not because I don't think developing a deeper spiritual life is important.  But because for so long I viewed such things as...to be blunt...a waste of time.  Now don't misunderstand, I don't think they are a waste of time.  I just used to feel like that when I was younger.  The reason that I felt that way is the concept of spiritual disciplines always seemed so passive and egocentric.  I associated it with monks cloistered in monasteries ignoring the real world.   As I've grown, I've come to understand that, in truth, some people do use spiritual discipline this way.  A way of imagining themselves as more spiritual, more connected to God, while completely separating themselves from God's work of reaching the lost with the gospel.  However, I have also seen the result of people who are all about "reaching the lost," but who have no spiritual depth to accomplish the task. (Typically, these people don't stay with God's plan too long.)

Smith does well in re-coining the term as "spiritual exercises" noting the active work required as well as their ability through the Spirit to make one a stronger Christian who will be more effective at accomplishing God's will in the world.  It is my prayer for myself that as I progress through this book, I will always keep in front of me that God wants me to develop a stronger spiritual life in order that I may show His glory to world around me.

Am I humble or what?

The last day or so I've been thinking about Smith's words on p.28:

"The Holy Spirit is often the member of the Trinity that get the least attention. We pray to God the Father, and when we read about Jesus in the Gospels we can picture him in human form. But the Holy Spirit is not often the focus of our lives. I have come to believe that the Holy Spirit is not upset about this."

Yesterday I had the distinct "priviledge" of sitting in an Urgent Care waiting room for over 2 hours while a student was being treated by a doctor for flu-like symptoms. During my wait I was reading over Smith's words about the humility and work of the Holy Spirit. I was moved as I reflected on this grace. It was amazing for me to think about all that the Holy Spirit does, what it has done in my life in terms of revealing truth, convicting me of sin, pointing me to Jesus, healing my brokenness, and yet how very little attention and or thought I can give to it. And I wondered if it really didn't mind that like Smith said. I started thinking about how I would feel if it were me.

Here's a little ironic twist --- at the very time I've got this conversation happening in my head, in another part of my brain I'm thinking about how long I've been waiting for this student and how much work I have to get done. I'm wondering if he really appreciates what I'm doing for him or not. I'm feeling pretty proud of myself for the "sacrificial" thing I'm doing by carting him around, exposing myself to potential sickness, taking time away from "ministry", etc. etc.

Not ONE time did I make the connection...at least not until later. And really I didn't make that connection until I was prompted once again by you know who. What is wrong with me? At the very time I'm moved by the humility of God, His willingness to love and serve me even when I don't acknowledge Him, and then I turn right around and act/think arrogantly about how I have to help someone else. Sound like a story you've heard before? Yeah, me too.

Holy Spirit, thank you for not treating me the way I treat you. Thank you for always being there to help me, even when I'm stuck in my own self-centered junk. Thanks for not leaving me stuck, but faithfully prompting me once again. Thank you Lord for not giving up on me, please help me to remember what you've done for me, and to give grace to others as easily and freely as You.