Straddling Two Worlds

“You are not far from the kingdom of God.” (Mark 12:34)

It really sucks being sick, no matter what the particular illness is.

I realize those may be strange words coming from a tenured and ordained church pastor and hospital chaplain. Nevertheless, it is a truism which far too many people know about intimately.

Yet, there might be something even worse than the devastating effects of one’s own ill health – whether it be cancer or a cold, epilepsy or constipation – and that is the awful grinding reality that someone you love dearly is suffering beyond what you can do for them. If you could take their place, you’d do it in a heartbeat.

And, honestly, many, if not most, people are in one of those situations right this very minute – either needing care or being the caregiver.

As I was walking through my neighborhood last night, as I often do after the day’s sunset, I couldn’t help thinking about all my neighbors inside those lighted rooms. Every single person, I felt and knew in my bones, was going through some sort of illness that’s impeding the quality of their life; or they’re struggling to know how to pray for that friend or loved one who is profoundly ill, wondering what to do, at all.

Debilitating illness is one of those realities of the human condition that appears to be so devilishly odd in a world where billions of people worship God. If there is such a divine Being, where the hell is he!? Why do I feel so helpless?

There is something else for us to contemplate – that we live in a weird space between two worlds. The first world we are quite familiar with – the tangible reality of our five senses. But this other world is a place we are much more unfamiliar with; it has multiple if not millions of senses which we cannot see, hear, feel, taste, or touch with our physical capabilities.

Something inside of us, besides our literal brains, hearts, and guts, existentially knows that deep within us is a soul. I personally don’t care much what you want to call it – spirit, metaphysical awareness, biological wirings, gut feelings, etc. But there is a special place inside of us that is ready-made to connect with that other ethereal world of the spirit and soul.

Let me ask: What makes a young woman with cancer become driven to make a difference in the world, even though she may die tomorrow? Where does the desire bubble-up for a heart patient who could be gone before the day is out to say something of great value that family and friends will forever remember and record?

And what makes you and I get out of bed in the morning, desiring to impact the world in significant ways that makes things better, not worse?

I confess that far too often, in my own ill health, as well as the debilitations of my dear wife, I throw a daily little pity party complete with doll sized cups along with juicy gossip of how others don’t understand.

I rehearse old wounds from the past, wish things were different in the present, and fear for what is to come in the future. O, my friends, you already know this is no way to live a good life.

If we’re going to live with any sort of faith, hope, and love, we will need to recognize our place in-between these two worlds of earth and spirit.

I wish I could tell you that I have it all worked out, that I could give you some short pithy statements of experiential truth which will transform your life experience.

But I don’t.

So, here is what I try my darndest to do ever single day, as a person who seeks to touch both worlds, and who is devoted to the person of Jesus: I surrender to Love. I give myself to what is most important. And when I fail, I let divine forgiveness wash over me.

I luxuriate in the spiritual world’s reality that if somehow I lose myself, I will find Jesus – or rather that Jesus will find me. Love has its own mysterious ways of making the right connections when they need to happen.

I bask in the profound paradox that in renouncing everything I have and everything I am, I gain the greatest possessions in existence – and they are found on that other side, in the spiritual world.

I freely humble myself and resign myself to the words and ways of Jesus – even when they make no sense in the earthly world. “Love your enemy.” Really!? Okay, I’ll give it a go… and it is amazing to always see the results that happen inside of me, and in the other spiritual world, that have little to do with that other person.

The medieval mystics are not popular with a lot of people. I admit Christian mystics are strange people, and have the sort of demands of the Old Testament prophets. But I love them.

One of my favorites, Thomas à Kempis, is insistent that if you lose yourself, you will find Jesus. To resign oneself completely to Jesus, fully and totally without any wavering, is to find the appropriate sweet spot between the two worlds of physical and spiritual. Writing to his young acolytes, Thomas minces no words:

“Let this be the goal of your striving and the object of your prayer, namely, to desire to be stripped of all your belongings, and once naked, that you may be ready to follow the naked Jesus. You must die to yourself to live eternally with me.” (The Imitation of Christ)

Sometimes this happens intentionally, as one longs to connect with the Christ they sense around them. In other ways, much like C.S. Lewis, other people come kicking and screaming to the place between the worlds.

Yet, by whichever means we get there, a place of grace opens to us. From that awkward vantage point – between health and illness – we discover that binary explanations have no place in this realm. Instead, all of us move between the worlds throughout our lives.

And, I would suggest, that the best and most effective way of navigating those worlds is taking the strong advice of both the medieval Thomas and the ancient Jesus. Little do we know how close we are to finding peace and purpose in our upside-down lives:

Now when Jesus was asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God would come, He answered them and said, “The kingdom of God does not come with observation; nor will they say, ‘See here!’ or ‘See there!’ For indeed, the kingdom of God is within you.” (Luke 17:20-21, NKJV)

What we truly want and long for is no further than the hospital bed we’re occupying, or any other place we find ourselves in. And, furthermore, the place to find how to help that dear loved one is to journey within ourselves, not without.

If you are like me, you don’t much like limitations. I like the feeling of handling multiple responsibilities and accomplishing them with care and competence. The last thing I want is anything or anyone getting in my way of fulfilling great and meaningful work.

But I have had to learn that my limitations – which grow every day – are actually the key to knowing how to live the Christian life, as well as just plain old life in general.

The more I become aware of my true abilities, accept them, and move with them, the more I see that the world does not spin on the axis of my ability to accomplish anything. And the more dependent I realize I truly am, the more I observe the Christ who has everything under control – even when it seems God is absent.

It is to be expected that God will eventually put us in places of great limitation. Yes,  it will frustrate us in our seeming inability to effect any sort of change to an unjust situation. We just want whatever the offending circumstance is to be exorcised from this world. Yet, it rarely, if ever, happens.

This is not some demented divine game which God is playing on us – to be caught between worlds, and to struggle with all our might to make the best of our situations as people who are both sinner and saint, sick and well, sinister and full of goodness.

No, the nature of our common human condition of hard circumstances as people of faith is meant to strengthen our allegiance and our hope, so that we may be Christians publicly displaying who God is like, and that there is such a thing as truth in the public square.

“…even though you have to suffer different kinds of trouble for a little while now. The purpose of these troubles is to test your faith as fire tests how genuine gold is. Your faith is more precious than gold, and by passing the test, it gives praise, glory, and honor to God…” (1 Peter 1:6-7, GW)

It is downright hard trying to straddle between the two worlds of spiritual hope and physical adversity. But it’s necessary, even if we are unable to discern this reality for now. Every small decision of faith made in love with a good heart has immense impact in the universe, although we may never see that great and good consequence this side of heaven.

Living between two worlds will always be difficult. And it requires a level of surrender to God that is scary. Yet we can still be safe, strong, and spiritual; because we are all in this human condition together.

Called To a Way of Being – Fourth Sunday of Advent (Romans 1:1-7)

Paul, a servant of Christ Jesus, called to be an apostle, set apart for the gospel of God, which he promised beforehand through his prophets in the holy scriptures, the gospel concerning his Son, who was descended from David according to the flesh and was declared to be Son of God with power according to the spirit of holiness by resurrection from the dead, Jesus Christ our Lord, through whom we have received grace and apostleship to bring about the obedience of faith among all the gentiles for the sake of his name, including you who are called to belong to Jesus Christ,

To all God’s beloved in Rome, who are called to be saints:

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. (New Revised Standard Version)

To be a Christian is to be a servant of Jesus, called to a specific way of being in the world, and set apart for the gospel of God.

Concerning this gospel, this good news, it is all about God the Son, Jesus Christ, who is also fully human. Jesus is the singular person – both God and human at the same time, all the time. His human credentials are linked to the genealogy of the ancient King David, who was promised by God that one of his descendants would sit on throne forever. And as for Christ’s divinity, it was confirmed and established through his resurrection from death.

It is through Christ that we are called to belong to him; we have received the grace to be called children of God; and we are called to holiness for God. We all, therefore, have a calling. Every one of us is important. All of us receive the grace of God to fulfill that calling in this world.

In our contemporary society, we put a lot of stock into what we do, to the point of identifying ourselves primarily by our job titles and positions. But in God’s society, our primary identification is that we belong to God, and specifically to Jesus Christ.

Belonging to Christ means we are to have a certain way of being – not just doing – on this earth. We are first and foremost human beings, and not human doings. What we do is to flow from our being, and not the other way around. We do not gain identity through actions and accomplishments.

Our way of being has a lot to do with the Advent season. Christ’s coming into this world as a vulnerable baby was a deliberate way of being for Jesus in this world. He would go through all the human travails and trials that we do. He would know both joy and suffering, and would know them as coming together into one:

For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. (Hebrews 12:2, NIV)

It’s normal for us to wonder about the nature of our own personal sufferings. Its hard for us to make sense out of all the nonsensical things in this world, especially when it pertains to us personally.

Indeed, it is hard for us to accept the reality that humble suffering is not only a part of living in this world, but is also an important part of being a Christian who belongs to Jesus.

Whenever we lose something or someone important to us, we struggle with why. We may wonder where God was. We might think there is something wrong with us, as if God is punishing us for some unknown sin we’ve done in the past.

But we would be barking up the wrong tree. Methinks we wrestle so much with adversity and hardship because of our predilection for doing instead of being.

Perhaps our life situations are more about our way of being in this world, rather than what we do on this earth.

Maybe my life is meant primarily to be about being a person who is always loving, kind, compassionate, just, good, righteous, and holy – a saint, set apart as one who belongs to God.

Maybe it has a lot less to do with our vocations and only seeing things through what I’m able to do, or not do.

It could be that I am meant to see God’s grace operating through me by means of love, not hate; kindness, not meanness; compassion and comfort, not indifference and annoyance; justice, not injustice; goodness, not bad attitudes; and holiness, not unrighteousness.

It is quite possible that today (and every day) my Christian life has been about, is about, and will continue to be about my suffering for the sake of Jesus, who suffered for me.

“Why be disturbed of things that do not succeed according to your plans and desires? Who gets everything according to his likes? Neither I, nor you, nor anyone else on this earth. No one in this world is without some trial or illness or affliction, not even a king or a pope. Who, then, has it the best? The one who is willing to suffer for God’s sake.” Thomas à Kempis, The Imitation of Christ

The believers in the Roman Church, for whom the Apostle Paul wrote his letter, were focused primarily on what they had and what they did as Jews and as Gentiles. Because of their understanding of identity, they kept wrangling with each other and looking down on one another – namely, because they failed to each other as belonging equally to God as the one people of God. Jews were too hung up on how they kept the Law for centuries without any Gentiles. And Gentiles were too myopic to see that they were not replacing Jews out of some superior activity.

To love one another, and to simply love, is to suffer. Apart from love there is no suffering. Without love, there is no peace, no grace; and there is no belonging to God and having a way of being in the world which pleases God.

Furthermore, one can never have possessions or wealth without a great deal of anxiety and apprehension. Our happiness does not consist in temporal things, but in the permanence of relationships, because relationships are the only things we take with us in the end.

In the spirit and practice of the Lord Jesus whom the Christian serves, we must pass through the fire before we arrive at redemption and be at peace with God and humanity.

To reach the joy of Christmas, we must endure the weeks of Advent, of anticipating the hope to come, of waiting to see the Christ child who humbly comes into the world for us and for our salvation. And that means we may likely have to endure any current adverse and hard circumstances.

We are called – not for selfish gain, and not to look down on others who are different – but for a way of being in this world which emulates the Lord whom we serve, Jesus Christ our Savior.

Shepherd of Israel: May Jesus, Emmanuel and son of Mary, be more than just a dream in our hearts. With the apostles, prophets, and saints, save us, restore us, and lead us in the way of grace and peace, so that we may bear your promise into the world. Amen.

The Time Is Near (Luke 21:5-19)

The Siege and Destruction of Jerusalem, by David Roberts, 1850

When some were speaking about the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God, he said, “As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down.”

They asked him, “Teacher, when will this be, and what will be the sign that this is about to take place?” And he said, “Beware that you are not led astray, for many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’ and, ‘The time is near!’ Do not go after them.

“When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified, for these things must take place first, but the end will not follow immediately.” Then he said to them, “Nation will rise against nation and kingdom against kingdom; there will be great earthquakes and in various places famines and plagues, and there will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven.

“But before all this occurs, they will arrest you and persecute you; they will hand you over to synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors because of my name. This will give you an opportunity to testify. So make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance, for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict. You will be betrayed even by parents and siblings, by relatives and friends, and they will put some of you to death. You will be hated by all because of my name. But not a hair of your head will perish. By your endurance you will gain your souls. (New Revised Standard Version)

The Arch of Titus in Rome, depicting the Roman triumphal march after victory against the Jewish revolt

The temple, central in today’s Gospel lesson, had undergone an impressive and beautiful refurbishment by Herod the Great (appointed as King of Judea by the Roman Emperor).

It took eighty years for the rebuilding project to be completed. It was significantly enlarged; and generous amounts of gold and silver were used to refurbish it, along with ample use of white marble.

So, it was no wonder that people coming to Jerusalem and approaching the temple admired the massive and impressive edifice. In their awe, they commented so to Jesus.

But Jesus was less impressed with all the architectural rebuilding and expansion of grounds, and more concerned about what would be coming soon concerning the temple and the inhabitants of Jerusalem.

Jesus became the wet washrag to the awe of viewing the Jerusalem temple. He stated that the temple would be destroyed; and it would happen soon.

Imagine if you were one of the persons in the crowd listening to Jesus. “What are you talking about? Why in the world would you even bring that up? It’s obvious that God won’t let this temple be destroyed. It’s his house!”

To their credit, Christ’s disciples did not question the words of Jesus. They only asked a follow up question of when this imminent destruction was going to take place. Unlike the crowd, their query was: “When can we expect this to happen?”

Christ responded by warning his disciples not to believe every apocalyptic preacher who comes along trying to tell everyone when the event will happen. Because some of those preachers will be false prophets who only lead people astray.

False prophets tend to prophesy peace and abundance when God has already proclaimed doom. I find it curious and interesting that the current U.S. President keeps up a steady stream of telling the American people that the economy is booming and that everyone can trust him to keep them safe and secure – even though there is zero evidence for such bluster.

(In in fact, there is contrary evidence to his words; which begs the question why anyone would listen to him…). Prophets who ignore truth and proclaim error tend to downplay any sort of doom on the horizon, especially when they are in power.

Yet, with all the doom and gloom proclaimed by Christ, let’s keep in mind that although the temple was indeed destroyed as Jesus said it would in the year 70 C.E., neither Christianity nor Judaism was destroyed along with it.

God transcends any physical sacred religious space in the form of temples and church buildings.

After the temple’s destruction, both religions kept on, with Christianity growing and becoming the world’s most populous religion. Today, Judaism and Christianity have adherents across the entire earth in every nation, and among all sorts of races and ethnicities.

Sometimes the modern church forgets these things. There are many congregations today who identify themselves chiefly by their church building. For them, everything revolves around maintaining the physical plant, keeping the lights on, and having enough people in the pew to pay for it all.

All of this focus on the building means that congregants too often get excited about new people because they see them as potential givers who can help shoulder the load of paying bills and keeping up the building’s maintenance.

It’s no wonder that these same churches are continuing to decline. They are closing their doors at the rate of about 10 churches every day in the United States (nearly 4,000 churches per year).

When a church is struggling, it’s easy to believe that some gifted pastor will come along to renew and refurbish them; or that God will magically intervene and bring dozens if not hundreds of people to fill their empty pews.

They don’t want to hear any message that their building will be demolished by a wrecking crane. Yet, in many circumstances, Jesus has communicated to them what will happen. But the people continue believing the false prophesies of renewed glory days and the building busting at the seams with fresh converts.

If I’m coming across as a wet washrag, I’ll gently point us back to the Gospel story of Jesus for today.

Sometimes grief and lament are more biblical than overt positive thinking which is guised in the language of faith.

However, no matter what, the worldwide church will continue to go on, and the gates of hell shall not prevail upon it. The church will keep going, albeit in new places and in all sorts of new forms. Our task is to be sensitive to the Spirit’s leading, and have discerning men and women of faith who are true prophets with helpful information.

Back to the story, Jesus was even more gloomy about what would happen after the temple was destroyed. Believers would be arrested and persecuted. Circumstances would be dire. Christians would continually be at risk. And yet, a look back at history tells us that the church did not die; rather, it grew and flourished.

I am reminded today that hard circumstances and difficult situations – even including death and destruction – are not the end. In God’s kingdom, up is down and down is up; first is last and last is first. All is not lost, even though it may look that way today.

I am reminded of the words of the medieval priest, Thomas à Kempis, who wisely had his mind and heart in the right place when it came to hardship and persecution:

“Sometimes it is to our advantage to endure misfortunes and adversities, for they make us enter into our inner selves and acknowledge that we are in a place of exile and that we ought not to rely on anything in this world.

“And sometimes it is good for us to suffer contradictions and know that there are those who think ill and badly of us, even though we do our best and act with every good intention. Such occasions are aids in keeping us humble and shield us from pride.

“When men ridicule and belittle us, we should turn to God, who sees our innermost thoughts, and seek His judgment…

“It is when a man of good will is distressed, or tempted, or afflicted with evil thoughts, that he best understands the overwhelming need he has for God, without whom he can do nothing.

“While enduring these afflictions he takes himself to prayer with sighs and groans; he grows tired of this life and wishes to die so that he could be undone in order to live with Christ. It is in such times of trial that he realizes that perfect security and full peace are not to be found in this world.”

May we put our eggs not in the earthly basket of architectures, buildings, and physical plants, but in the heavenly basket of compassionate ministry, uplift for the poor and needy, and proclamation of the gospel of grace to all.

O God, in Christ you give us hope for a new heaven and a new earth. Grant us wisdom to interpret the signs of our times; encourage us to stand in the time of trial; and have faith to witness to your truth and love. Amen.

Monday of Holy Week (Psalm 36:5-11)

The Via Dolorosa (Latin: the way of sorrows) is a narrow path through the streets of the Old Jerusalem, the final route traveled by Jesus of Nazareth on the way to his crucifixion.

Your steadfast love, O Lord, extends to the heavens,
    your faithfulness to the clouds.
Your righteousness is like the mighty mountains;
    your judgments are like the great deep;
    you save humans and animals alike, O Lord.

How precious is your steadfast love, O God!
    All people may take refuge in the shadow of your wings.
They feast on the abundance of your house,
    and you give them drink from the river of your delights.
For with you is the fountain of life;
    in your light we see light.

O continue your steadfast love to those who know you
    and your salvation to the upright of heart!
Do not let the foot of the arrogant tread on me
    or the hand of the wicked drive me away. (New Revised Standard Version)

The desert journey is almost over. The sojourn with Jesus in his life and ministry will soon culminate in the ultimate experience of sorrow and joy. The Christian season of Lent is nearly at the end. We are in it’s final days, known as Holy Week.

We have a Holy Week because of love. There is yet another journey we must take, along the Via Dolorosa to the hill of Golgotha, because of God’s steadfast love.

Love suffers. Every parent knows this. Because of a parent’s committed and faithful love toward a child, they feel not only the joys but also the sorrows and pain of their children. I can say that this feeling does not go away, even with adult children. And it’s compounded with grandchildren. Just as our love is big enough to hold multiple children and grandchildren, so our capacity for experiencing deep emotion for their welfare is equally large.

Holy Week reminds us that God’s committed parental love suffers. It is because of God’s immense and steadfast love that there is a road to the cross and a tortured death for Jesus. The cost of our salvation involves a very bloody affair. Deliverance comes at the price of horrible violence. Jesus Christ lived and died for us, because of love.

He suffered much because he loved much.

God’s people, walking in the way of love, quickly discover that it is simultaneously walking in the way of suffering. From Old Testament times through the New Testament era and into the present day, the faithful have always experienced suffering as a central part of their piety and devotion in showing steadfast love. 

The medieval mystics of the Church understood quite well the connection between suffering and love. They could not imagine a Christian life without hardship, difficulty, and persecution. Thomas à Kempis, a sort of pastor to pastors, wrote in the fifteenth century:

“Sometimes it is to our advantage to endure misfortunes and adversities, for they make us enter into our inner selves and acknowledge that we are in a place of exile and that we ought not to rely on anything in this world.  And sometimes it is good for us to suffer contradictions and know that there are those who think ill and badly of us, even though we do our best and act with every good intention….  When men ridicule and belittle us, we should turn to God, who sees our innermost thoughts, and seek His judgment….  It is when a man of good will is distressed, or tempted, or afflicted with evil that he best understands the overwhelming need he has for God, without whom he can do nothing….  It is in such times of trial that he realizes that perfect security and full peace are not to be found in this world.”

Thomas à Kempis, The Imitation of Christ

And yet, it is because of love that suffering is transformed and endured as something wholly other than sheer pain or hurt. Thomas à Kempis went on to say:

“Love is a mighty power, a great and complete good; Love alone lightens every burden and makes the rough places smooth. It bears every hardship as though it were nothing and renders all bitterness sweet and acceptable. The love of Jesus is noble and inspires us to great deeds; it moves us always to desire perfection. Love aspires to high things and is held back by nothing base. Love longs to be free, a stranger to every worldly desire, lest its inner vision become dimmed, and lest worldly self-interest hinder it, or ill-fortune cast it down…. Love knows no limits, but ardently transcends all bounds. Love feels no burden, takes no account of toil, attempts things beyond its strength; love sees nothing as impossible, for it feels able to achieve all things. Love therefore does great things; it is strange and effective; while he who lacks love faints and fails.”

Thomas à Kempis, The Imitation of Christ

Holy Week’s message is certainly one of suffering love. Jesus went to the greatest lengths possible to give Divine steadfast love to humanity. So, let us not shy away from the cross, but journey with Jesus to Golgotha, embracing the love of God for us. In so doing, we will find the inner resources needed to love the world, even in all its unloveliness.

Grant, we pray, almighty God, that, though in our weakness we fail, we may be revived through the Passion of your Only Begotten Son. Who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, for ever and ever. Amen.