Thursday, September 2, 2010

The Doctrine of Mercy

Today's readings: Ps 37:1-18; Job 16:16-22, 17:1, 13-16; Acts 13:1-12; John 9:1-17

Once there was a devout man who wanted very much to follow Christ. Every Sunday he arrived early for worship, closed his eyes and prayed for a heart full of mercy. One week a family with a four-year-old girl began sitting near him in church. The little girl had never been to church before, and asked many questions in a not very quiet voice. After several weeks the man asked his pastor to talk to the family: the girl was interrupting his prayers to be more patient and forgiving.

The confrontation between Jesus and the Pharisees over his healing of a blind man on the Sabbath is essentially a story of the same age-old conflict in the faith community. Jesus was constantly on the move. If he had observed the letter of the Sabbath law, the opportunity to heal the blind man would have passed. Given a choice between mercy and doctrine, Jesus chose mercy. Reaction from the Pharisees was confused: on one hand he’d broken the prohibition against work by kneading spit and mud together, but on the other – how could anyone not from God have performed such a sign? They launched an investigation.

Two thousand years of Christian perspective help us discern the misguided actions of the praying man and the Pharisees. Are we as perceptive about our own lives? Does our sense of propriety ever preempt an attitude of mercy? To some degree, we all rely on a framework of religious, cultural and/or self-imposed doctrine to structure our understanding of the world. Otherwise we’d spend an inordinate amount of time rebuilding that understanding in response to every new situation and piece of information. For example, most of us know whether or not cursing is acceptable in a given social situation without thinking too hard about it. One Sunday minister Tony Campolo told a congregation thousands of children died of starvation every day and nobody seemed to “give a sh*t.” He correctly noted more people were upset by his word choice than the number of starving children. If he got the attention of anyone who then helped a single hungry child, did social doctrine matter? If on Monday morning we are dwelling on the foul-mouthed minister and not the starving children, it’s time to re-examine our hearts.

Comfort: We choose mercy because God chooses mercy.

Challenge: Make a list of doctrines/rules that guide your behaviors.

Prayer: God of life, create in me a heart that is more than a rulebook.

Evening readings: Ps 37:19-42


Tomorrow's readings: Ps 31; Job 19:1-7, 14-27; Acts 13:13-25; John 9:18-41

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Where to Look?

Today's readings: Ps 38; Job 14:1-22; Acts 12:18-25; John 8:47-59
In the musical Fiddler on the Roof, the lead character Tevye is the head of a Jewish family living in Russia during the pogroms. Reflecting upon the suffering of God’s chosen people, he only half-jokingly asks God, “Couldn’t you choose someone else for a while?” Job, reflecting on his own suffering, asks God to look away from short-lived mortals (v 6) – that is, to focus attention on someone or something else for a while – so Job can get some peace. Like Job and Tevye, we can sometimes feel like God is asking more of us than our fair share.

If, as the psalmists claim again and again, the way of the Lord leads to delight, why can it seem burdensome? Partly because it really isn’t fair, not in the worldly sense of balanced shares of reward and responsibility. Doing right in the eyes of God often means assuming burdens others have neglected. More than we’d like, our efforts not only go unappreciated, they are resented. We can grow discouraged and resentful ourselves. Where do we look for happiness in such situations? We can change focus from expectations of others to expectations of ourselves. We can’t count on satisfaction derived from other people because we can’t control how they act or feel. The satisfaction we can count on is what we get from knowing our own actions are just and loving.

As Job protests suffering he perceives as inflicted by God, we must remember the book is a poetic reflection on the philosophy of suffering, not a historic document. In our own lives loss and illness raise entirely differently questions of faith and fairness, but they are not inflicted by God. Nevertheless, the idea that living in the presence of God can be stressful is valid. What are we to make of Jesus’s words, “My yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matt 11:30)? If our expectations are set by the world, these words will not seem true to us. But in the “upside-down” truth of God’s realm, the unfairness of the world does not weigh us down even as we resist it. Our burden grows lighter as we learn justice and mercy are not what we collect, but what we give away.

Comfort: God does not seek to inflict burdens, but to ease them.

Challenge: Ask yourself if there is a burden in your life you need to look at from a different perspective.

Prayer: God of life, teach me to be content no matter my burden.

Evening readings: Ps 119:25-48


Tomorrow's readings: Ps 37:1-18; Job 16:16-22, 17:1, 13-16; Acts 13:1-12; John 9:1-17

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

The Impatience of Job

Today's readings: Ps 26, 28; Job 13:1-17, 21-27; Acts 12:1-17; John 8:33-47

Have you ever heard someone described as having “the patience of Job?” Where do we suppose that came from? Job is not at all patient. He rails against his miserable condition and demands answers from God. He rebukes his friends’ attempts to explain his situation by declaring “What you know, I also know. I am not inferior to you” (v 2). He, God and we readers all know he hasn’t done anything to merit such punishment. Patience may be a virtue, but lazy thinking and theology is not.

Lots of people – televangelists, authors, ministers – make their livings by telling other people what God is all about. Even more people – people like Job’s friends – offer the same service for free. Members of both groups often have the same problem as Job’s friend Zophar: they parrot answers that don’t fit our experience of the world. Jesus taught us about God mostly through parables and questions. We should be wary of any spiritual leaders who offer pat answers, especially when they lean more toward legalism than grace.

We should trust our instincts about God. This doesn’t mean we should create an image of God from scratch, or that we shouldn’t question, modify, and grow in our beliefs as warranted. It doesn’t mean God must want us to do and be exactly what we already are. It does mean when someone, even someone in authority, claims to know something about God, we should test that claim against our own truths. 1 Thessalonians 5:21 tell us “Test everything. Hold on to the good.”

By the same token, neglected instincts can grow dull. We have an ongoing responsibility to educate ourselves and critically evaluate what we learn and experience in matters of God and faith. We can’t say “I am not inferior” in these matters if we haven’t done the work, but any one of us is as capable of a deep relationship with God as anyone else. Keeping our own instincts sharp will help us determine whether someone is speaking the truth, or speaking eloquently and confidently – but falsely.

Comfort: God is more trustworthy than our words and ideas about God.

Challenge: Meet regularly with a group of friends to discuss what you have learned (and unlearned!) about god.

Prayer: God of life, thank you for the mind you have given me.

Evening readings: Ps 36, 39


Tomorrow's readings: Ps 38; Job 14:1-22; Acts 12:18-25; John 8:47-59

Sunday, August 29, 2010

Blessed are those...

Today's readings: Ps 148, 149, 150; Job 11:1-9, 13-20; Rev 5:1-14; Matt 5:1-12

Today’s passage from Matthew is commonly called The Beatitudes. The word “beatitude” means supreme blessedness or happiness. Jesus is describing the blessings God has in store for those who are oppressed yet living in faithfulness.

The words of The Beatitudes are famous well beyond Christian circles. “Blessed are the meek” (v 5) and “Blessed are the peacemakers” (v 9) would be clichés if they weren’t still radical statements. The Beatitudes describe a world where an oppressive imperial society (Roman or otherwise) is turned upside down by God’s love. For those enjoying power in any age, they are a threatening idea.

Critics of Christianity can use texts like The Beatitudes to paint Christians as passive and long-suffering. The meek, the mournful, the poor, and the hungry – not anyone most of us would aspire to be. Even the merciful, the pure in heart, and the peacemakers can be caricatured as mere do-gooders or pacifiers.

The truth is, each of these states represents an active engagement in the world and a refusal to accept less than the fullness of God. Mourning is not mere sadness, but grappling with a world steeped in pain. Meekness is a choice of community over self. Peacemaking is a dangerous profession – ask any police officer called to a domestic dispute. No wonder Jesus warns us those who benefit from the status quo or flat out fear change will revile and persecute and slander the faithful (v 11). We represent the upset of an unjust way of life.

The beatitudes spell out how we are to be in the world but not of it. We are not called to suffer for suffering’s sake, but may be called to do so when life in the kingdom of God clashes with the expectations of the world. How such persecution can be a blessing is a mystery, but no more a mystery than how the world can turn a deaf ear to God’s call to justice and love. Which of these mysteries do we want to live in?

Comfort: God blesses us always.

Challenge: Over the next week, pray The Beatitudes once a day.

Prayer: God of truth, I will trust you always.

Evening readings: Ps 114, 115
 

Tomorrow's readings: Ps 25, Job 12:1-6, 13-25; Acts 11:19-30; John 8:21-32