Tag: spiritual struggle

The Severe Mercy of the Easy Yoke (Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30)

On By Tim EhrhardtIn Christian Spirituality Blog, Daily Bible Reading Blog, Year ALeave a comment
The Burden of Christ, a sculpture of Jesus Christ, in the Oratoire Saint-Joseph, Montreal, Quebec, Canada

“But to what will I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to one another,

‘We played the flute for you, and you did not dance;
    we wailed, and you did not mourn.’

“For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon’; the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ Yet wisdom is vindicated by her deeds….”

At that time Jesus said, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will.All things have been handed over to me by my Father, and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” (New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition)

Exchanging one yoke for another is really a rather radical act. It is akin to dying to self, so that there can be new life in Christ.

In our anxiety-laden society, filled with multiple fears, worries, and frustrations, we are being invited by Jesus to lay it all down. In other words, every one of us must unequivocably die to self.

Perhaps this might best be illustrated by expressing my own struggle with the pharisaical yoke and the Jesus yoke:

A year-and-a-half ago, I abruptly had to leave my job as a hospital chaplain due to deteriorating health. I am now retired, not because I chose retirement, but because retirement chose me.

So, for the past eighteen months, I have struggled with this reality of no longer being a Chaplain. As hard as I thought and pondered, I’ve gained no understanding as to why I am no longer serving patients, their families, and hospital staff.

What’s more, I have no insight as to why – during my tenure as Chaplain – I experienced an awful time with a gaslighting boss for three of those years. This boss continually made nonsensical decisions, and defied any understanding, even though I sought it out. (I might add that it is super-creepy that the current U.S. President is so eerily like the former boss, as if I’m still under the abuse!).

If I was a good Chaplain doing good work (which I believe I was) then why was I treated so oppressively? Why did my employer turn a blind-eye to it all? Why would God almighty sideline me in such a loathsome health situation. Why must I keep experiencing the awful effects of incompetent political leadership? Why all of the nonsense? It is a terrible yoke for me to carry.

Likely, none of this has to do with me needing to understand any of it. It could be that it is more akin to Abraham being told to sacrifice the son of the promise, Isaac.

It was a completely nonsensical command from God. It defied any sort of understanding on Abraham’s part. And yet he quietly obeyed, with the text of Genesis 22 telling us nothing about any talk-back nor questioning from Abraham. Only obedience. It appears that Abraham was able to exchange yokes, from the oppressive one to the easy one.

In telling Abraham to sacrifice his son, the real death taking place was Abraham’s, not Isaac’s. Abraham was to die to anything that may compete or be likened to some sort of idolatry before God. For even the very good things, like families and jobs, can become idolatrous to us.

I don’t know about your situation, but maybe for me the point is that I must allow the old life to die, and to let a new life grow out of it. Maybe it’s time for a change of yokes. After all, one cannot have a new resurrected life without first experiencing a crucifying death to the old life.

Death is an integral part of life. To exchange yokes is to experience a death. I’ve wanted badly to return to chaplaincy in the hospital. But I am being commanded to sacrifice it on the altar of God. I am being told to die to myself, so that I may live a new life to God.

Any sort of mere earthly hope must die within us, that an unselfish and godly hope may arise anew. And that happens when we deliberately switch-out one yoke for another.

Chaplain Tim, in a way, is dead. I now accept that which is already true of me. It is a death to self. And I am now patiently awaiting my resurrection.

I do not understand this weird liminal space I’m inhabiting; and I need not understand it. I’m deprived of the object of my former job. And so, I let go of it. I will cling no longer to the old life.

What I seem to be currently experiencing is a severe mercy – the mercy from God to not make Christianity wholly understandable, nor boil it down to pharisaical laws of which I can clearly either follow, or not.

Instead, I allow following Christ and taking up his easy yoke to maintain it’s true mystery and grace. If I have died with Christ, I shall also live with him.

Only in hopelessness can we entertain hope. God loves me enough to let me feel the awful severity of Divine nonsense, so that I may experience the real nature of Christ.

I suppose, then, that I am really dead to having to understand everything, and am instead alive to hope. And hope will not disappoint me.

Through dreams and visions, O God, you broaden the horizon and hope of your people, so that they may discover the meaning of your covenant, even in the midst of trial and exile. Increase the number of those who believe in your word so that all people may joyfully respond to your call and share in your promises. Amen.

First Sunday after Christmas Day – Where Is Jesus? (Luke 2:41-52)

On By Tim EhrhardtIn Christian Spirituality Blog, Daily Bible Reading Blog, Year CLeave a comment
The Boy Jesus In the Temple, by He Qi

Now every year his parents went to Jerusalem for the festival of the Passover. And when he was twelve years old, they went up as usual for the festival. When the festival was ended and they started to return, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem, but his parents were unaware of this. Assuming that he was in the group of travelers, they went a day’s journey.

Then they started to look for him among their relatives and friends. When they did not find him, they returned to Jerusalem to search for him. After three days they found him in the temple, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. And all who heard him were amazed at his understanding and his answers. 

When his parents saw him they were astonished, and his mother said to him, “Child, why have you treated us like this? Your father and I have been anxiously looking for you.” 

He said to them, “Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” But they did not understand what he said to them. 

Then he went down with them and came to Nazareth and was obedient to them, and his mother treasured all these things in her heart.

And Jesus increased in wisdom and in years and in divine and human favor. (New Revised Standard Version)

Luke is the only New Testament Evangelist who included a story of Jesus’s childhood. It provides us some interesting biographical information. Yet, more importantly, the story gives us a sense of Christ’s destiny, of why Jesus grew up to  engage in his unique earthly ministry.

In many ways, Jesus was a typical Jewish boy, in a non-descript pious Jewish family. The family was careful to be observant, and annually made their pilgrimage to Jerusalem for Passover.

Joseph and his family traveled in a large caravan of people, which was common for that day. They were on their camels an entire day before they discovered Jesus was missing.

Mary likely assumed Jesus was riding on the other camel with Uncle Zechariah and his cousin John. 

But Jesus was neither with them nor with Aunt Elizabeth. So, the second day, Joseph and Mary backtracked to Jerusalem, hoping and praying they wouldn’t find Jesus in the ditch, like in the story of the Good Samaritan.

Having not found their son along the road, Joseph and Mary spent the third day scouring Jerusalem in search of Jesus. 

It seems to me that far too many people go about their daily lives without realizing Jesus is even missing. They simply assume he’s here. But he isn’t.

So, let’s search for him. And in finding him, may we see Jesus as we have never seen him before, so that our faith in God might be strengthened, and so that we do not end up losing him yet again.

Turns out, the entire time, Jesus was at the temple. As a parent and grandparent myself, I’m not a bit surprised that a twelve-year-old stayed behind and thought nothing of it. 

Jesus was curious and inquisitive with the rabbis at the temple. Those ancient teachers taught in a different way than Christians preachers today. They gave instruction more like a modern day counselor or therapist.

The rabbis didn’t just impart information; they asked questions to help people discover truth for themselves. And the rabbis were amazed at Jesus’s ability to discover truth.

Keep in mind that Jesus was not a thirty-year-old adult in a twelve-year-old body. Christ was sinless, indeed; but still immature.

The human experience involves growth and maturation. Jesus shared fully in our humanity, not partially. When Christ was born, he was not a fully aware adult looking through the eyes of a baby.

Because Jesus is fully human, he had to grow up just like us and learn in every way, just like us. (Hebrews 4:15; 5:8)

Staying in Jerusalem was not a rebellious act by Jesus. It was typical. Twelve-year-old’s do all kinds of things without saying anything to their parents.

There’s a world of difference between defiant rebellion, and just plain old garden variety immaturity. It’s unwise for adults to expect adult behavior from adolescent kids.

Jesus felt a deep need to stay and talk with the rabbis. As a human boy, he had to go through the process of self-discovery… of finding out that he was the Son of God… of reading the scriptures for himself and learning… and finding that he was reading about himself! 

To say that Jesus simply knew everything because he was God is to fall into a heresy the early church condemned at the Council of Nicaea called Docetism – a belief that Jesus is fully God and only appeared to be human.

No, the Nicaean Council said, Jesus is really a human being and did not simply appear to be one. He is like us, in every way, except sin.

Well, of course, Joseph and Mary finally found Jesus. And Jesus got the third degree from his mother: “What do you mean putting your father and I through this? I gave you birth, and you treat us like this?  What were you thinking?  What part of meeting at the two-humped camel at 9:00 don’t you understand!?”

Since Jesus grew in wisdom and stature and in favor with God and others, how much more do we need to put ourselves in a position to grow and learn and develop and mature? 

There is no spiritual machine in which God miraculously zaps into our brains all the wisdom and knowledge we need.

Rather, emulating our Lord, we must learn, grow, read, pray, ask questions, struggle, and dialogue about the good news of Jesus Christ with each other. In short, we must discover the truth of God.

Perhaps Jesus is asking us, as he did to Mary and Joseph, “Why were you searching for me?  Didn’t you know that I had to be in my Father’s house?” 

The answer of Jesus to his parents’ anxious searching of him points to Christ’s growing self-awareness about his messianic mission. The story centers around Jesus, as all stories do in the Gospel narratives, and not so much around the others.

Since Christ is the proper middle to everything for the Christian, we will, like Joseph and Mary, struggle to know where in the heck Jesus is, and why he is where he is, whenever we find him.

But it isn’t really all that hard to find Jesus, at least, once you know where to look, and where he typically hangs out.

When looking for Jesus, he will be doing the things of his Father. In the Gospel of Luke, those things are clearly connected to the prophet Isaiah’s description:

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
    because he has anointed me
        to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
    and recovery of sight to the blind,
        to set free those who are oppressed,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” (Luke 4:18-19, NRSV; cf. Isaiah 61:1-2)

The ones rejoicing at Christ’s birth, and why they were filled with such joy, is very much connected to the messianic mission of Jesus. They understood that freedom and deliverance had just been born.

O God, from our mother’s womb you have known us. You call us to follow you every single day of our lives. And you seek us out whenever we wander from you. As we grow up and grow older, clothe us with your love, so that we may mature in grace and find favor in your sight; through Jesus Christ our Savior and Lord. Amen.

Why? (Job 18:1-21)

On By Tim EhrhardtIn Christian Spirituality Blog, Daily Bible Reading Blog, Year BLeave a comment
Job speaks with his friends, by Gustave Doré, 1866

Then Bildad the Shuhite replied:

“When will you end these speeches?
    Be sensible, and then we can talk.
Why are we regarded as cattle
    and considered stupid in your sight?
You who tear yourself to pieces in your anger,
    is the earth to be abandoned for your sake?
    Or must the rocks be moved from their place?

“The lamp of a wicked man is snuffed out;
    the flame of his fire stops burning.
The light in his tent becomes dark;
    the lamp beside him goes out.
The vigor of his step is weakened;
    his own schemes throw him down.
His feet thrust him into a net;
    he wanders into its mesh.
A trap seizes him by the heel;
    a snare holds him fast.
A noose is hidden for him on the ground;
    a trap lies in his path.
Terrors startle him on every side
    and dog his every step.
Calamity is hungry for him;
    disaster is ready for him when he falls.
It eats away parts of his skin;
    death’s firstborn devours his limbs.
He is torn from the security of his tent
    and marched off to the king of terrors.
Fire resides in his tent;
    burning sulfur is scattered over his dwelling.
His roots dry up below
    and his branches wither above.
The memory of him perishes from the earth;
    he has no name in the land.
He is driven from light into the realm of darkness
    and is banished from the world.
He has no offspring or descendants among his people,
    no survivor where once he lived.
People of the west are appalled at his fate;
    those of the east are seized with horror.
Surely such is the dwelling of an evil man;
    such is the place of one who does not know God.” (New International Version)

It only makes sense that Bildad was expecting a sensible discussion with Job.

But it was not going to happen.

Why?

Because grief doesn’t make sense; it’s nonsensical, whimsical, and fractal.

If you’ve ever been in a discussion with someone in which the person speaks illogically, it’s likely that you tried to talk sensibly and logically, pointing out the thought process.

And if you have ever done that, it’s also likely that the person did not change one iota of what they said.

Why?

Because people are not primarily thinking creatures who happen to have emotions. Instead, people are emotional creatures who happen to think.

Why do people ask, “Why?”

Because they’re angry. It’s not a cerebral question; it’s an emotional question.

Bildad, a “friend” of Job, was exasperated with his carrying on about being innocent, contending with God, and expressing anger – which is rather funny, because Bildad himself was angry.

Why?

Because supposedly logical and controlled people have illogical and emotional issues, too.

Welcome to the human race, all of you who pride yourselves on your flawless logic and neatly formed theology.

There is a chunk of people in this world who think that everything either works, or ought to work, according to Cartesian coordinates.

A Cartesian coordinate system describes the position of points in space using perpendicular axis lines that meet at a point called the origin. Any given point’s position can be described based on its distance from the origin along each axis. In other words, Cartesian coordinates allow one to specify the location of a point.

So, why am I talking about Cartesian coordinates?

Because that is what Bildad the Shuhite was trying to do with Job, to fix him on a plane that he could understand.

Because in Bildad’s theological world, the wicked are punished by God with bad circumstances and suffering. In the Cartesian world, as the wickedness increases, so does the pain and suffering.

Hence, one is being punished by God… But does the world really operate according to Bildad’s conception of it?

Hell no! (apparently wicked people say that sort of thing when not in the Cartesian world; they should probably get right with God; and, by the way, sarcastic people are wicked, too)

Bildad went so far as to suggest that perhaps Job doesn’t know God at all.

After all, that’s where one goes in a conversation with someone who doesn’t conform to clear and tidy Cartesian-style theology.

They can preach hellfire and damnation to others, yet when another even uses the word “hell” in a phrase, that is where they’re going to go.

It seems that Bildad isn’t really making sense.

Why?

Because he’s stuck. He cannot imagine life outside of his theological bubble.

The difference between Bildad and Job is that Job will admit that he is stuck, confused, messed-up, angry, and has no decent answer to what is going on in his life.

Whereas Bildad would never admit such a thing, even though he is so far stuck in the mud that it would take a divine miracle to get him out.

In fact, it appears we all need a divine miracle.

But God is silent.

Why?

I don’t know. But I do know that it won’t be for long.

Everyone might want to brace themselves for what’s coming.

Why?

Because we will receive precisely what we’re looking for: A word from God. But it’s probably not going to be what we expect.

After all, we aren’t living in a world of Cartesian coordinates.

O Lord God almighty, Creator of heaven and earth: I admit that these people you created drive me nuts! And I’m one of them! I can barely live with myself, let alone others.

In my wondering and confusion and pain, it’s hard to focus on anything. I don’t know why everything is upside-down and topsy-turvy. Yet, somehow I know, and am convinced, that you are present with me, and that you love me.

How in the world could I accept good from you, and not bad? If you love me, and are present with me, then I believe that whatever happens from this point forward, I shall not be forsaken by you.

Contend with those who contend against me. Help me with today, for tomorrow has enough worries of its own. Amen.

The Power of Emptiness (Mark 7:24-37)

On By Tim EhrhardtIn Christian Spirituality Blog, Daily Bible Reading Blog, Year B1 Comment

From there Jesus set out and went away to the region of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there. Yet he could not escape notice, but a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit immediately heard about him, and she came and bowed down at his feet. Now the woman was a Gentile, of Syrophoenician origin. She begged him to cast the demon out of her daughter. 

Jesus said to her, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” But she answered him, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” Then he said to her, “For saying that, you may go—the demon has left your daughter.” And when she went home, she found the child lying on the bed and the demon gone.

Then Jesus returned from the region of Tyre and went by way of Sidon toward the Sea of Galilee, in the region of the Decapolis. They brought to him a deaf man who had an impediment in his speech, and they begged him to lay his hand on him. 

Jesus took him aside in private, away from the crowd, and put his fingers into his ears, and he spat and touched his tongue. Then looking up to heaven, he sighed and said to him, “Ephphatha,” that is, “Be opened.” And his ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly. 

Then Jesus ordered them to tell no one, but the more he ordered them, the more zealously they proclaimed it. They were astounded beyond measure, saying, “He has done everything well; he even makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak.” (New Revised Standard Version)

Two stories. Two suffering people, because of their infirmities. A mother and a community suffering along with them, not knowing how to help them.

Lo and behold, Jesus, of all people, was the last person they expected to hear was in the area. He a Jew. They Gentiles. Yet, what if….

Maybe there is a ray of hope. After all, where there is emptiness, there is potential. And Jesus is the expert on that!

Christ had the rare ability to give the necessary gift of envisioning potential in another’s life, of seeing how the empty space could be filled with life and joy. Indeed, with Jesus there is possibility.

It is important to not only look at what is there, but also on what is not there. Because that’s where we find the quality, opportunity, and potential in another, and in ourselves.

The daughter in the narrative was vexed and incapacitated by an unclean spirit, a demon. The man in the story was deaf and mute, unable to hear and speak, lacking capacity for effective interaction in a society which relied so heavily on the ears and the mouth.

We may imagine their emptiness, feeling bereft of ever experiencing abundant life in their respective circumstances. However, they had those around them who cared, and interceded on their behalf.

Just realizing that Jesus was amongst them seemed to inspire a spark of possibility. Their thinking began to move in a slightly different direction with Christ in the neighborhood.

500 years before Christ’s encounters with these folks, the Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu crafted this poem:

A wheel may have thirty spokes,

but its usefulness lies in the empty hub.

A jar is formed from clay,

but its usefulness lies in the empty center.

A room is made from four walls,

but its usefulness lies in the space between.

Matter is necessary to give form,

but the value of reality lies in its immateriality.

Everything that lives has a physical body,

but the value of a life is measured by the soul.

The immaterial is the real substance. The material is only the form we see around it. It isn’t the material which effects the immaterial; it is the immaterial which has the power to transform the material.

Yet, change is never easy, even the necessary changes we long to see realized. It was not easy for any Gentile living in a Jewish world, and vice versa. Both Jews and Gentiles find out how hard things really can be.

Exorcising the Canaanite Woman’s Daughter, by Peter Gorban, 1990

The word got around that Jesus was in town. Nobody knew where he was. But desperate people discover ways to find the people they believe can help. The mother of the daughter with an unclean spirit found where Jesus was staying.

Furthermore, desperate persons are resilient; they rarely give up. The woman was used to tension in the room. She was unfazed by the Jew and Gentile disparity. I happen to think that the response of Jesus was probably expected by the woman. It certainly didn’t discourage her.

The woman asked for help. Jesus rebuffed her. Perhaps this seems incongruent with your understanding of Christ. It may even shock you. It was anything but Midwest nice.

One of the realities, it seems to me, that we need to understand and grapple with, is that Jesus was a real bona fide human being. He was born, grew up, had to learn things and become mature, in every sense of the word.

Christ also needed to develop and live into his own ministry. He had to learn how to establish personal boundaries, apply wisdom to particular situations, and deal with being hungry and tired with a world of human need around him.

I believe that is what we see in this interaction with the woman. And it in no way diminishes Christ’s divinity. We need to be able to hold all of Jesus – both his divinity and his humanity – at the same time, all the time.

Undeterred, the woman bent the words of Jesus to her advantage. That’s what desperate people do. So, Christ, recognizing true desperation and the faith behind her persistence, then immediately exercised his divinity by expelling the unclean spirit from the daughter and bringing her to full capacity.

I’m glad the Gospel writer Mark recorded the narrative as he did. I see a Messiah who deeply desires to do his Father’s will, and has to struggle with how to accomplish it.

I see Jesus in the story as actively growing in his understanding and ability, learning to break into the world with grace and truth; yet at the same time, not conforming to the world’s status quo.

Methinks that not much of this had anything to do with Christ’s sense of ethnicity and gender, but with everyone else’s understanding of the terms. Jesus, along with all of us who desire to follow the ways of God, must struggle with how to bring God’s kingdom values to people.

Jesus, to his credit, is a quick study. Being oriented to love, mercy, and obedience will do that for you. The woman was an outside voice. Christ was willing to listen and banter with her. He was not threatened when she spoke her truth to his power.

I will suggest to you that perhaps the reason for Christ’s willingness and ability to have effective ministry with the woman and her daughter (as well as everyone else) is that he had his own sacred emptiness.

Whenever we are full of ourselves, full of all our thoughts of how things ought to go, and full of all our settled beliefs, then there is no room to see and listen to another person.

Jesus was empty so that the woman could add to him with her own story and struggle. And when that happened, a miracle occurred.

The same sort of sacred emptiness happened with the deaf and mute man who was healed of his infirmity. Jesus was able to receive and be filled with the people who brought the man to him.

They begged Christ to help the man. Jesus saw them and heard them, because he was not so full of himself. And if anyone ever had a right to be full and tell others what to do, it is Jesus.

But he didn’t. In his empty humility, he had room for others. Since Christ emptied himself, he could empty others of all the stuff that gets in the way of living a peaceful life. (Philippians 2:5-8)

That is precisely why I am here. Because Jesus had room for me. Christ has a very large inner space, big enough to accommodate an untold amount of people. He has room for you, too. He sees you, and is able to listen to you.

So, go ahead; speak your own truth to Christ’s power.