Categories
Religious

God’s Apparent Inattention to Prayer

The following meditation is from Doug Hood’s upcoming book: A Month of Prayer & Gratitude: Five-Minute Meditations for a Deeper Experience of Gratitude.

“How long will you forget me, Lord? Forever? How long will you hide your face from me?” Psalm 13:1 (Common English Bible)

The critic Guy Davenport wrote that translation is a game of two languages, and that “the translator is in constant danger of inventing a third that lies between.”[1] The language of the Christian faith is often characterized as one where God is responsive to prayer. The language of lived experience suggests that, on occasion, God is inattentive to prayer. What is the translator to do—how does a person of faith translate a “responsive God” to the occasional experience of an “inattentive God?” Often, the translation—or explanation—is that the prayer lacked sufficient faith or that the prayer failed to follow some prescribed rubric or pattern. The tragic result is a third language, a God that is responsive only if the prayer has been constructed properly or is undergirded by an unwavering and sturdy faith. The third language is unrecognizable to the people of the Bible, particularly the psalmist. It is a language that suggests that effective prayer is dependent upon us, not God.

Psalm 13 is the shortest of the prayers that seek help from God in the Book of Psalms. At the beginning of this prayer is a rhetorical question, “How long?” The question is asked four times in the first two verses. Information isn’t sought. A response is sought from a God that seems unresponsive. The individual who makes this prayer is in distress. An urgent neediness is presented to God, and the expectation is that God will show up and answer, consistent with the understood character of God. Excuses for God’s inattentiveness are not offered; God is not let off the hook. This is a powerful witness of refusal to inventing a third language. God is known as a responsive God. So, where are you God? As James L. Mays makes clear, “God does not help; there is no evidence of God’s attention and care. Anxiety tortures the mind with painful questions.”[2] The named experience resonates with our own when we are impatient and desperate. Our questions about God’s apparent inattention are not unfaithful.

It is important that the reader—the one who is eavesdropping on this urgent prayer—understand that the psalmist is not releasing their frustrations upon another. It isn’t unusual for the faithful to speak to another of their disappointment with God. Many times, that is the preferred approach—sharing with a friend, rather than directly to God, a disappointment or hurt with a God that seems inattentive. This seems safer, less dangerous, than a direct and frank conversation with God on such matters. What is suspended in such moments is the recognition that nothing can be kept from God. God is privileged to our conversations as well as our thoughts. Just as Adam and Eve sought to hide from God, we participate in the self-deception that we can vent our frustrations about God to another without God’s knowledge. Why risk stirring God’s anger with such a blunt approach? Here, the psalmist does. God has let them down, or so the psalmist believes. Why not an honest conversation with God?

This bold move, this courageous exercise of faith, in turning directly to a God who seems inattentive, grants permission to the reader to do the same. The psalmist’s unflinching honesty before God demonstrates a confidence in God’s love and care for the well-being of the faithful. This nervy move reminds the reader of another man of God named Job. Job never flinched before God in demanding an answer for his suffering. The answer never came to Job. Yet, in time, God does demonstrate faithfulness to Job with the return of good things. What we find in Job’s story is that the individuals who feared holding God accountable received God’s rebuke. The psalmist in this prayer doesn’t receive an answer either. What to do with God’s apparent inattentiveness? The psalmist chooses gratitude. “Yes, I will sing to the Lord because he has been good to me” (Psalm 13:6). Choosing to give up on God was not an option for this one who asks God, “How long?” Such a choice only results in a life of despair.

[1] Wood, Graeme. “The Iliad We’ve Lost,” The Atlantic, November 2023, 83.

[2] Mays, James L. Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching, Psalms. Louisville: John Knox, 1994, 78.

Categories
Religious

Foundations

The following meditation is from Dr. Doug Hood’s upcoming book, A Month of Prayer & Gratitude: Five-Minute Meditations for a Deeper Experience of Gratitude.

“The Lord your redeemer who formed you in the womb says: I am the Lord, the maker of all, who alone stretched out the heavens, who spread out the earth by myself.”

Isaiah 44:24 (Common English Bible)

Foundations are important. In the construction of a building, a strong and reliable foundation is a primary consideration. The function of the building and its location are important matters for determining which materials are necessary. Without attending to the matter of a proper foundation, further construction becomes a foolish—and risky—enterprise. Similarly, a meaningful and purposeful life requires a sturdy foundation. The materials for such a foundation include unconditional love, encouragement, and support. But other matters are important, too! These include education or vocational training, a safe environment for failure and learning from that failure, and career guidance or mentoring. Yet, the most important matter is to know where we come from. Who are our parents? Were we adopted? What can we know of our heritage? Self-concept and identity are forged from this knowledge.

This passage from Isaiah shows that the people of Israel have lost their way. Their home, Jerusalem, has been destroyed, and they are a people in exile. Such disorientation is a poor foundation for rebuilding their future as a nation. It is in this disorientation, this emotional and spiritual place of despair and hopelessness, that the prophet Isaiah speaks. He reminds the people that they were formed in the womb by God—the same God who is the maker of all, who alone stretched out the heavens and spread out the earth. Israel, Isaiah cries, has not been left alone! And as a people who were created, fashioned, and formed by such a God, they are a people who belong. Isaiah reaffirms once again their relationship—their foundation—with their God. And it’s this relationship that has continued on throughout the ages unto this very day.

Understand, however, that we shouldn’t make the mistake of assuming that God belongs to us. Allan Hugh Cole Jr. shares a poignant metaphor he once learned that: “acting as if God somehow belongs to us can have a direct effect on prayer and faith. For example, it can lead to our viewing God as a commodity that exists primarily to serve us and our self-interests, rather than leading us to serve God and God’s interest. Moreover, we can begin treating God as ‘a cosmic Coke machine,’ such that we merely need to offer God some sort of payment (i.e., good deeds, the right prayers, acts of kindness, various sacrifices), put in our requests, and expect to receive something in return from God immediately.”[1] This incorrect notion that our relationship with God is purely transactional is a poor foundation for a faith that can navigate life’s discouragements and heartbreaks—it’s a foundation that cannot sustain us.

A life of faith and prayer that disappoints may be the product of a poorly laid foundation. Instead of seeking a relationship with God, we might pray, “God, I will give you this if you give me that.” Another poor foundation may be casting God in our own image rather than the other way around: we might depict God as an extension of ourselves, our desires, our needs, and our political ideology. We want God to see the world as we see it—we want God to be a certain way. This is a foundation that negatively impacts our prayers and shakes our faith. God does not operate under our control. As the prophet Isaiah reminds us, we belong to God. The only foundation for a robust life of prayer and faith is one where we seek to know God, God’s dreams, and God’s aspirations—it is one where we remember that God has created us and not the other way around.

Joy,

[1] Cole Jr, The Life of Prayer, 15.

Categories
Religious

Conditions of Answered Prayers

“If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask for whatever you want and it will be done for you.”

John 15:7 (Common English Bible)

Ernest Hemingway captures the deep disquiet among many who are faithful in the practice of prayer, Christians who go to their knees in prayer but quietly question just how much they can expect from God. Distressed by doubts, a lack of confidence in God’s ability—or desire—to respond to prayer plagues their practice of prayer. In his short story, The Gambler, the Nun, and the Radio, Sister Cecilia expresses her heartfelt desire to be a saint—a faithful, sincere desire that she has carried since she was a little girl. Sister Cecilia was absolutely convinced that if she renounced the world and went into the convent, she would become a saint. Now, years later, she still waits for her prayer to be fulfilled. Mr. Frazer, the protagonist of the story, responds to her, “You’ll be one. Everybody gets what they want. That’s what they always tell me.” But Sister Cecilia expresses doubt, “Now it seems almost impossible.”[1]

The great nineteenth-century preacher Phillips Brooks once addressed this common difficulty so many people have with prayer—explaining that the Gospel of John identifies two qualities shared by those who can hope to pray successfully. First, what does it mean to “remain in me.”?[2] It is a phrase that is familiar in the New Testament. To offer clarity, Brooks asks that we think of a child in their earliest years. Those are the years children are so completely absorbed or “hidden” in their parent’s life that you do not look upon them as a separate individual. They are expressions of their parent’s nature. The child’s thoughts and speech are nearly echoes of the parent. In these earliest years, we hear a child utter something, and immediately we know what has been spoken by the parents in earshot of the child. The parent acts and thinks for the child; the child acts and thinks as the parent. Similarly, we “remain” in Christ as we grow closer to Christlikeness.

The second condition of successful prayer is in the words “and my words remain in you.” This is the continual and instinctive reference of the definite, explicit teachings and commands of Christ, asserts Brooks. This second condition is not separable from the first—the first is remaining in Christ. In Christ, it is impossible to do anything, say anything, or desire anything but just what is the Lord’s will. Yet, that is incomplete, imperfect, and unreliable without some positive and definite announcement of it in our own words. Returning to the image of the child, words spoken are but echoes of what is heard. To “remain” in Christ necessarily produces the thoughts and words of Christ—a striving to full obedience to the teachings of Christ. Brooks eloquently puts it this way: the soul’s remaining in Christ makes ready to accept Jesus’ words, and then the words lead into a deeper utterance of the desires of God’s heart.

Returning to Hemingway’s short story, Sister Cecilia’s prayer for much of her life was that she might become a saint. Discouraged that the prayer remains unanswered she concludes that it may be an impossible prayer. Readers of this short story identify with her—we also have prayers that seem to remain unanswered year after year. How do we reconcile unanswered prayer with the promise that whatever we ask will be done? Perhaps the difficulty is that we jumped with hearts so eager to receive that we fail to notice the prior conditions here in John’s Gospel. Ultimately, prayer is about one thing—joining our lives so completely with Christ’s that Christ’s life and ministry continue through us. Prayer is a commitment to reverse the departure of our lives from the life and purposes of Jesus. As we strive to return our lives back to Christ and to “remain” there and have Christ’s words remain in us, our prayers take on fresh power.

Joy,

[1] Hemingway, Ernest. “The Gambler, The Nun, and The Radio,” The Snows of Kilimanjaro and Other Stories. New York: Scribner Classics, 2009, 49.

[2] Brooks, Phillips. “Prayer,” The Battle of Life and Other Sermons. New York: E.P. Dutton, 1893, 297.

Categories
Religious

Letting Go of Anger

“Let go of anger and leave rage behind! Don’t get upset—it will only lead to evil.”

Psalm 37:8 (Common English Bible)

“No man can think clearly when his fists are clenched,” writes George Jean Nathan.[i] We need to reach no further than personal experience to accept the truth of those words. Anger destabilizes and diminishes our capacity to make sound judgments. Chances are strong that many of the worst choices you’ve ever made occurred in moments of anger. Family disagreements result in family estrangements. Differences in political ideology result in poorly spoken words that magnify simple differences into vitriol—even cruelty toward another. Bad behavior flows from hearts that we once never imagined had such capacity. Anger becomes a palatable emotion that gathers strength unto itself as a tropical storm organizes into the destructive force of a hurricane. The teacher of the Psalms is correct—anger that isn’t released in a healthy manner leads to evil.

Here in Psalm 37, the people of God are angry. The source of the anger are people experiencing success though they do not honor God; do not follow the way of the Lord. It is a spiritual predicament very present today. When keeping the faith becomes difficult and honoring God requires a level of discipline and restraint and personal sacrifice, others ignore God and advance, even prosper in all their endeavors. Fairness seems absent. The result is a stumbling into frustration and destructive anger. We are bewildered by the incongruence of the equation of life: the faithful struggle and the faithless thrive. Mark Twain’s words are instructive, “Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured.”[ii] What is unfortunate, argues Travis Bradberry, is that this knowledge is rarely enough to help people keep their anger in check.[iii]

The teacher in this Psalm is asking God’s people to place their frustration and anger into God’s hands. After all, God’s hands have been shown again and again to be really good hands. These are the hands that separated the sea for Israel to pass through when they were pursued by the armies of Egypt. These are the hands that fed Israel for forty years in the wilderness. These are the hands that continue to direct the people in the way of faith and obedience.  Our hands are insufficient, certainly not sufficient for such a range of volatile emotions. Such provocation results in a mood that is unpleasant, uncertain, and destructive. The teacher knows that. So, the teacher urges that we do not allow anger to overtake us but to wait for what the Lord will finally do. Here is a lesson that Israel will learn again and again.

Psalm 37 invites the people of God to another way. It is finally the way of trust in God. Then, we are persuaded to hold to this other way—to clench this other way rather than to clench anger. Certainly, there will be moments when we will seek to take back into our own hands the anger stirred by injustice and hatred in this broken world. These will be moments when we fool ourselves into believing we would be better stewards of what is just and right than God. God’s hands are even large enough for such foolishness. And they are patient hands. Waiting for us to discover again that such anger in our hands become an irritant to our own sense of well-being. It is then that the great teacher asks us once again to hand the anger back to God. Once we are clear that this is where it belongs, we become less worrisome and more expectant of the wonder that God will reveal.

Joy,

[i] Mark Goulston and Philip Goldberg, Get Out of Your Own Way: Practical Lessons for Conquering Procrastination, Fear, Envy, Neediness, Guilt, and More. (A TarcherPerigee Book: New York, New York, 1996) 25.

[ii] Travis Bradberry, Emotional Intelligence Habits: Change Your Habits, Change Your Life. (TalentSmartEQ: San Diego, 2023) 157.

[iii] IBID, 157.

Categories
Religious

Summons to Gratitude

The following meditation is from Dr. Doug Hood’s upcoming book, A Month of Prayer & Gratitude: Five-Minute Meditations for a Deeper Experience of Gratitude.

“Truly God is good to Israel, to those who are pure of heart.”

Psalm 73:1 (Common English Bible)

The creation story of Genesis summons God’s people to gratitude. The Lord took Adam, the first man of God’s creation, and placed him in the Garden of Eden to farm and take care of it. Additionally, Adam is invited to “Eat your fill from all of the garden’s trees.” (Genesis 2:16b). Yet God’s abundance did not end with an orchard. God realized that being well-fed isn’t enough. God declared it was not good for Adam to be alone. So, God fashioned a woman and brought the woman to Adam, who embraced her as his wife. Together, they would share in the goodness and abundance of God. For this, Adam and his wife were created. For this, Adam and his wife were summoned to gratitude, and in this gratitude, they would find their happiness. Gratitude is how we measure what is made available to us, however much or little it may be. It is a spirit that positively shapes us and folds us into a life of faith.

The Seventy-third Psalm celebrates this summons with a ringing declaration, “Truly God is good to Israel, to those who are pure in heart.” But as the psalmist continues to write, we discover that gratitude had nearly been lost for a moment. Immediately after the bold declaration of the first verse, there is a confession that the psalmist’s feet had almost stumbled. The cause is quickly identified: human eyes turned away from what God is providing to look upon the prosperity of another. Comparison is measured between what we have and what another enjoys. The result of this comparison is a perceived imbalance—the other has more! Jealously poisons the heart, and bitterness, or anger, or both presses against a heart once pure. This sight of another’s prosperity created a sickness of heart and fueled a cynical spirit. And the psalmist’s feet nearly stumble beneath.

The antidote to this sickness, to this cynicism, is then announced: The psalmist went into the sanctuary of God. Eyes were directed away from another, and their prosperity to see God once again. In prayer, in reading the Bible, and in worship, we are reminded once again that we deserve nothing. Yet, in God’s grace, we have. We may have little or much, as the apostle Paul declares in one of his letters, but we have. Eyes directed back to God returns to us a true perspective—to view life, as it were, through the eyes of God. In the creation story of Genesis, Adam is placed in an orchard. Yet, careful attention to the story reveals that Adam is not to eat of one tree. Though this detail holds rich theological implications, let this one thing be understood: we were never created to have it all. Eyes turned away from God strive for much. But eyes turned toward God release gratitude for what we already have.

The Bible’s summons to gratitude does not minimize the pain of loss and disappointment. Each is experienced during life, though some may experience both in greater measure than others. There are people who have longed to marry and never do. Others have wrestled with the loss of marriage, either through divorce or the death of a spouse. Health challenges or the loss of a child challenge the maintenance of a robust faith. The apostle Paul speaks of an unnamed “thorn in the flesh” and asks God on three occasions that God remove this pain from him. God does not. What is important is that Paul turns his attention from his struggle to focus on something beyond himself—the building of the church. Paul demonstrates that experiencing gratitude is possible only when one can direct attention from what one lacks to the presence of God. And God promised Paul that God’s grace continued to abide.

Joy,

Categories
Religious

Borrowing Time for Prayer

The following is from Dr. Doug Hood’s upcoming book, “A Month of Prayer & Gratitude: Five-Minute Meditations for a Deeper Experience of Gratitude.”

“Jesus was telling them a parable about their need to pray continuously and not to be discouraged.”

Luke 18:1(Common English Bible)

Near the beginning of my present ministry, I placed a brass plaque on the pulpit, positioned just above the Bible. It reads, “The pulpit must be the grave of all human words” by Edward Thurneysen. We don’t come to worship for human advice. If we did, a church service would be no different than a TED Talk. I need to be reminded each week that people come not for an expression of my opinion; they come for the Word of God. Here in this teaching from Luke’s Gospel, Jesus is telling a parable about an opportunity to pray continuously. Jesus believed in prayer. Jesus prayed often. Jesus now wants us to know that prayer is nothing less than approaching the presence of an infinitely holy God. It is an invitation received from God. We must sense the gravity of that invitation and not be relaxed about prayer. Thought, preparation, and intentionality are a more responsible response to God’s invitation to prayer.

A shared difficulty with this approach to prayer is sheer busyness. A man I admire in my present congregation once told me that Jesus’ invitation for regular, daily prayer was a “tall ask.” He owned a business with nearly nine hundred employees. Regular demands upon him rarely left time for reading the Bible, a helpful daily meditation, and prayer. I sympathized and tried to understand. Yet, I also hear that God’s claim upon us—God’s claim upon the life of my friend—isn’t negotiable. Jesus asks that we pray continuously. That isn’t advice from the pastor. It isn’t the opinion of a human. It is all Jesus. A hit-or-miss casualness toward prayer is simply unacceptable. Close attention to Jesus’ life discloses that Jesus remained busy healing, teaching, and proclaiming God’s Kingdom. It would be an interesting debate between my friend and Jesus, which one of them worked harder.

What my friend failed to grasp is that the time borrowed for reading Scripture, a brief meditation, and prayer will not be lost from his work. The poise, steadiness, and increased wisdom granted from time with God each morning will be recompensed to him many times over. That great leader of the early church, Martin Luther, understood this. “Luther habitually prayed for three hours each day.”[1] There is simply no substitute for the value added to each day after being steadied and strengthened by God. Bruce Larson, a Presbyterian pastor of another generation, once spoke at a conference I attended on the value of prayer in his life. He said that if he missed a day of prayer, he noticed the difference. If he missed several days of prayer, his family noticed the difference. If he missed three days, his friends noticed the difference. If he missed for a week, his congregation noticed a difference. Bryant Kirkland shared in a sermon before the faculty and students of Princeton Theological Seminary something he once found on the wall of an army chapel. It said, “Nothing happens here unless you want it to.”[2] Naturally, the question for each of us is, what do we want to happen by prayer? What Jesus found in prayer was less a power to effect miracles and more a presence—God’s presence—that brought in generous measures of strength in weakness, encouragement in discouragement, and inspiration to reach for greater heights. More, Jesus found someone who would never abandon him. Anne Frank wrote that she was prompted to keep a diary simply because, “I don’t have a friend.”[3] Jesus doesn’t want that to be our story. Rather, Jesus desires to introduce to us, through prayer, a God who not only desires to draw close to us but will create in us a transformative story. Confidently, Jesus asks, “Pray continuously and not be discouraged.”

Joy,

[1] Buttrick, George A. Prayer, New York: Cokesbury, 1942, 265.

[2] Kirkland, Bryant, God’s Gifts, the Princeton Seminary Bulletin, Volume VII, Number 3, 1986, 268.

[3] Frank, Anne. Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl, New York: Anchor, 2001, 6.

Categories
Religious

Mark Twain’s Favorite Word

Dr. Thomas K. Tewell wrote the following meditation to be featured in Dr. Doug Hood’s upcoming book, A Month of Prayer and Gratitude: Five-Minute Meditations for a Deeper Experience of Gratitude.

“Rejoice always. Pray continually. Give thanks in every situation because this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”

1 Thessalonians 5:16–18 (Common English Bible)

When Mark Twain was the most well-known and respected writer in the United States, he was paid $5 for every word he wrote. Someone sent him a note that said, “Dear Mr. Twain, please send me your best word,” and enclosed a $5 bill in the envelope. Mark Twain sent back a one-word response . . . “Thanks!”

Thanks really was Mark Twain’s favorite word!

In the passage from 1 Thessalonians 5, the Apostle Paul encourages us to give thanks in all circumstances. Notice that Paul didn’t say, “Give thanks for all circumstances!” The reason we give thanks is that God is with us in all circumstances! We give thanks that the same God who raised Jesus from the dead, and who guided us in the past, will guide us in the future. We give thanks that we are not alone as we face challenging situations . . . God is with us! Even when we feel that God has abandoned us, and we think that God has forgotten about us . . . God is with us! It is important to open our eyes and focus on God and not on the circumstances! This is especially true when the circumstances seem overwhelming!

This was the case in the 1630s in Germany when the Thirty Years’s War was raging throughout Europe. The walled city of Eilenberg, Germany, was so overrun with refugees, wounded soldiers, and unsanitary conditions that infection and pestilence broke out in waves and spread uncontrollably. In the year 1636, the Plague hit! That was when a thirty-one-year-old minister and a native of Eilenberg, Rev Martin Rinkart was assigned by the Lutheran Bishop to serve the Lutheran parish in his hometown. He was the only minister who survived the Plague! So, he served the parish churches throughout the city as a solo ministry! Imagine the load that he carried in those years! And as one who grew up there, Martin knew most of the citizens of Eilenberg who were dying. There were so many deaths in the city that Rev. Rinkart led as many as ten funerals and memorial services every few days!

During this bleak period, Rinkart did not focus on the tragedy of the circumstances . . . he got up every morning and he focused on God! He focused on what God was doing. How do I know? In 1636, Rinkart wrote one of the great hymns of our faith. “Now Thank We All Our God,” that focused on Mark Twain’s best word . . . “thanks!” Rinkart focused on the presence of God and the love and support of the congregations in those tumultuous times and not on the tragic deaths or the circumstances. The first two stanzas bear witness to a God who remained steadfast in a time of tragedy and unanswered questions.

Stanza 1. Now thank we all our God with heart and hands and voices

Who wondrous things hath done, in whom this world rejoices;

Who from our mothers’ arms hath blessed us on our way

With countless gifts of love, and still is ours today.

Stanza 2. O may this bounteous God through all our life be near us,

With ever joyful hearts and blessed peace to cheer us;

And keep us in God’s grace, and guide us when perplexed,

And free us from all ills in this world and the next![1]

Martin Rinkart was honest enough with his feelings to admit that he was perplexed about the circumstances, and he wondered out loud during his daily prayer and memorial services, “where is God in the midst of this tragedy?” But as he wrestled with God and wondered about God’s presence and God’s seeming absence, Martin’s focus was still on God’s provision of comfort in this life, and eternal life in the next. This hymn is a powerful testimony to Mark Twain’s best word . . . thanks!

I have a dear friend who is a Jewish rabbi. The Rabbi urges his congregation to give thanks for one hundred things every day. And, with a twinkle in his eye, he tells them that if they can’t think of one hundred things for which they are thankful, they should open their eyes. The rabbi is quite right. God is at work in all circumstances. But we don’t see God at work because our focus is on the severity of the circumstances and not on God!

When we ask God to open our eyes, and we start to see God at work, even in overwhelming circumstances, then we will have no problem giving thanks daily for one hundred things! And, when that happens . . . like Mark Twain, thanks will become our best word, too! May it be so!

Joy,

[1] Rinkart, Martin. “Now Thank We All Our God”, 1636.

Categories
Religious

More than Conquerors

The following meditation was written by Dr. Yvonne Martinez Thorne for Dr. Doug Hood’s upcoming book, A Month of Prayer & Gratitude: Five-Minute Meditations for a Deeper Experience of Gratitude.

“No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.” Romans 8:37 (NRSV)

“Dr. Martinez, give me hope. We need hope.” These heart-piercing words were uttered by one of my patients in a state psychiatric hospital where I worked as a budding psychologist. I had just finished a psychoeducational session with a group of patients when these words filled that room. As those words lingered in the silence and heaviness in the room, they began to stir something within me. What more was he asking for that I had not provided in the group session? Here was my patient, who usually remained silent, planning his next escape from the hospital, daring to speak these words to others and himself.

I had given him and others in the group what I had perceived as the needed information about substance abuse and mental illness. Yet, his question revealed that what I had presented did not address a deeper need coming from his searching and desperate heart: a deep need for hope. As I wrestled with his request and ensuing questions, I reflected on my own training to give hope and people’s need for hope.

At the beginning of my brother’s life-threatening illness, my family rallied around him, surrounding him with love and hope. Although we had never experienced terminal illness in our family, we were committed to walking alongside our dear brother, no matter the cost. We showered him with loving thoughts, inspiration, and emotional and physical support. As time passed and as the disease progressed in his body, we all found it difficult to sustain hope, his and ours. One day during a visit, he angrily cried out to me: “Don’t put me in the ground. I am not dead yet!” His words registered in my heart that he was reaching out for hope. His words pierced my soul much like my patient’s words did for me that day some months later.

My brother needed hope from his family to continue his journey in hope and in faith, even though we all knew that his life was coming to an end. Truth be told, in these two most challenging years, my family and I became more keenly aware of the power of God’s amazing grace, God’s unconditional love, and God’s abiding presence with us even in end-of-life situations. We were taught valuable lessons about hope, which gave us all a deeper understanding of gratitude in situations that seem to be without hope and in moments of exquisite pain. Hope can light a path to gratitude, if only we choose to remain open and believe in God’s wise purpose for our lives.

Let me put the matter this way. As my dear brother made his way into his eternal home, my family and I experienced the power of faith, compassion, and love that led to the emotional, relational, and spiritual healing we all needed. We learned that when we love as Christ taught us to love—deeply, selflessly, and sacrificially—we are able to reach into the bottomless depths of our capacity to love. This is a life-enriching gift. My family came to understand the Apostle Paul’s reminder to the Christ followers in Rome during their times of unrelenting persecution: “. . . we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.” (Romans 8:37, NSRV) My brother’s sad end became an experience where we all saw our beloved brother fight for his good death in his home with his loved ones surrounding him. With Christ as our hope, we are more than conquerors as we live this life that, at times, asks of us more than we can bear. And, as we struggle in life, and as we grow in our ability to see God in these difficult times, we are able to discover the amazing and faithful love that God has for us, no matter what! For this, I am truly grateful.

The funny thing is. Teachers have confessed that they often learn from their students. Pastors acknowledge that they learn from their parishioners. Psychologists, too, learn from their clients. Gratitude shows up in some strange and wonderful ways.

Joy,

Categories
Religious

Work in Progress

The following meditation was written by Dr. Greg Rapier for Dr. Doug Hood’s upcoming book, A Month of Prayer & Gratitude: Five-Minute Meditations for a Deeper Experience of Gratitude.

“Jesus told this parable to certain people who had convinced themselves that they were righteous and who looked on everyone else with disgust: ‘Two people went up to the temple to pray. One was a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood and prayed about himself with these words, “God, I thank you that I’m not like everyone else—crooks, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week. I give a tenth of everything I receive.” But the tax collector stood at a distance. He wouldn’t even lift his eyes to look toward heaven. Rather, he struck his chest and said, “God, show mercy to me, a sinner.”’”

Luke 18:9-13 (Common English Bible)

The big danger in comparing ourselves to others is that we often, even when we don’t mean to, compare our worst with others’ best. We compare the inner machinations of our hearts, our deep and hidden struggles, against the public-facing version of our peers, the pristine and polished, Instagram-filtered, highly curated, tactfully presented as reality but not really reality versions of people we see online. Or at church. Funny how those can feel the same. I imagine most of us, if we’re honest with ourselves, make these comparisons and wince. We feel less-than, broken, and incomplete.

My first time at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, I was absolutely flooded with stimuli—artwork stacked high to the ceiling, people everywhere you look, large tour groups hastily ushered from one room to the next, over two million square feet jam-packed with some of the finest art in the world. In one of the rooms—I couldn’t tell you which because the place was a decadent maze—my friend, a resident New Yorker and de facto tour guide, completely froze. He looked up at a long wall stretched even longer by all the artwork on display. Amongst the ornate, centuries-old, immaculate compositions, one painting stood apart, not because of its perfection, but because of its flaws.

Much of the canvas featured precise, lifelike depictions of saints and angels and Jesus Christ, but in the upper left-hand quadrant, prominently positioned against a blue backdrop, rested two beige mannequin-like figures, sketched out but never completed. Part of the painting was missing. My friend leaned over and whispered, “I like this one because it’s unfinished.”

Jesus’ parable in Luke 18 reminds us that we are all unfinished and that there’s no sense in pretending anything else—not for other people, and certainly not for God. There’s power in humility and dignity in vulnerability. This is how we ought to come before God and pray, not as perfect people, but as works in progress, some quadrants of life more sketched out than others. Because when we do that—when we show up to pray not as our perfect selves but as our whole selves—we discover a God of infinite grace, a God who sees our flaws and loves us anyway, who says this messy, unfinished canvas of a life holds innate beauty and deserves to be displayed. The Scripture reminds us that we’re all God’s people, and that in God’s great gallery, Jesus Christ has reserved a place for us all.

Joy,

Categories
Religious

Standing Up to Life

“I can endure all these things through the power of the one who gives me strength.”

Philippians 4:13 (Common English Bible)

Joan Burns, a friend for over eleven years, recently gave me one of the most honest compliments I have received—“What I enjoy best about our friendship is watching you try to be funny!” That comment demonstrates that Joan is the one—in our relationship—who is genuinely funny. More importantly, the comment demonstrates the strength of our friendship. She doesn’t fear damaging our friendship with her candor. That strength of friendship is what we all seek—and need. It is the strength that defines my relationship with my daughter. I will make a silly comment to Rachael, followed by the self-aggrandizement, “I’m so funny!” Rachael’s simple response is, “No, you’re not!” Naturally, that has become a clever riposte between my daughter and me. Yet, Joan’s quip, “What I enjoy best about our friendship is watching you try to be funny,” has theological depth: Joan acknowledges, in her humor, that I am actually “trying!”

“I can,” begins Paul’s remark to the church in Philippi. The emphasis is not on our dependence upon God. We do not expect God to do everything for us—or we shouldn’t! There are things that we can do and ought to do. There are things we can endure, though they may not be pleasant. A runner understands this. The first mile is unpleasant for every runner, regardless of physical condition. The first mile is a liar. The first mile will plead with us to stop, that this should be a rest day. Or the lie is that we are not strong enough or the weather isn’t ideal for running. Runners are familiar with the lies of the first mile. So, runners endure the lies and continue into the second mile, where the lies are eventually silenced. Our Christian faith calls forth the same endurance. Our faith does not release us from making the best effort within us. We can face difficulties and obstacles that find their way into our lives. It is simply a decision to stand up to life.

But there is more in Paul’s comment to the Philippian Church. The “I can” is matched by strength from God. First comes the resolve that we will stand up to life and make every effort within us to do so. Obstacles, setbacks, and losses will be met with our determination to move through them. That determination will then realize a surge of power that comes from without—the power of the one who gives uncommon strength, the risen Christ. Just as a runner endures the lies of the first mile, the second mile presents new strength for the road ahead. God’s strength always comes alongside our effort, the “I can.” But our own effort comes first. The first mile must be endured. As we approach the end of that first figurative mile of difficulty, a new spiritual confidence emerges that touches every area of one’s manner, disposition, and attitude toward life. The notion of “I can” is not a hope or wishful thinking. It is established upon God’s promise of strength.

The stiffest challenge of life is not questioning God’s presence when we need God. It isn’t asking God to rescue us from difficulty or straighten things out for our family. The stiffest challenge of life is to stop viewing God as a blue genie available to grant our wishes or as a cosmic servant that makes the rough places smooth. God is available to pull us together when we fall into despair and to build upon our own determination to instill courage, strength, and guidance for where we place our next step. God’s desire is that we stand up to life with the confidence that we don’t stand alone. Every success, every accomplishment, every step into the second mile of our life will be through the power of the one who gives strength. Paul’s words here, “I can endure all these things through the power of the one who gives me strength,” renews courage when life becomes difficult. Repeated often, these words will become a vital part of surviving that first mile.

Joy,