Monthly Archives: June 2016

I’VE ASKED TOO MUCH

I think I’m aware that we must make demands of one another if we are to mature and become fine people. That seems right it’s just that power is so easily abused and the lives of others [like my own] are so complex. I don’t know where the balance is between the abuse of power and the gutless refusal to exercise it.

Sigh.

Former Prime Minister of the UK, Margaret Thatcher, in her characteristically strong way refused to sanction a national referendum on a disputed issue. She said that referendums are not good government but the abdication of government. “If the people elect you to govern, then govern,” she said. If you’re to let the nation decide every time a difficult situation faces the nation you’re not governing at all—that was her view. You seek a place where you can exercise wise judgment, you allow yourself to be placed in such a position and then you give the difficult questions over to people not qualified as you are, to those who opposed you for office and even to those who confessed you’re capacity to wisely guide—this she believed was a loss of nerve, a form of cowardice. I sense the wisdom in that and yet…

Maggie Tulliver, one of George Eliot’s characters in her novel TheMill On The Floss, told her brother, “It’s a sin to be hard!” The line rebukes me severely as I reflect over the years how hard I’ve been at times with family and friends and others. I want no more of it. Now as the days gain speed and my time here seems to be sprinting to a close, more and more I simply want to forgive and be forgiven. Livingston Larned felt the same kind of guilt and in this lovely but awful confession, which I’ve adapted a little for our purposes, he made his confession public.

Listen, son. I’m saying this as you lie asleep, one hand crumpled under your cheek. I’ve stolen into your room alone. A few minutes ago as I was reading my newspaper, a stifling wave of remorse swept over me. I had been cross with you. I scolded you as you were dressing for school because you only dabbed your face with a towel. I chewed on you for not cleaning your shoes. I spoke angrily when you threw some things on the floor. I found fault at breakfast too. You spilled things, gulped your food, put your elbows on the table, put too much butter on your bread. As I left for work you waved and called, ‘Goodbye, Daddy!’ and I told you to straighten your shoulders.

The same thing this afternoon. As I came up the road I saw you, down on your knees playing marbles. There were holes in your pants. I humiliated you before your friends by marching you ahead of me to the house. Slacks were expensive—’If you had to buy them you’d be more careful.’ Imagine that from a father!

Do you remember, later, when I was reading my paper, how you came in, a bit timidly? I impatiently asked you, ‘What do you want?’ You didn’t say a thing. You threw your arms around my neck and kissed me. And you held me with an affection that God has set in your heart and which even neglect hasn’t withered. Then you were gone, pattering upstairs to bed.

It was shortly after that that I felt the guilt and sickening fear. I’ve gotten into the habit of finding fault, regimenting, rebuking. This is my reward to you for being a boy! It wasn’t that I didn’t love you; it’s that I expected too much of a boy. I was measuring you by the yardstick of my own years. But there is so much in you that is good and fine and true—like your enormous heart, which showed itself in your coming to kiss me goodnight in spite of everything.

Nothing else matters tonight, son. I’m here kneeling by your bed, ashamed. You wouldn’t understand any of this if I told you about it. But tomorrow I’ll be a real daddy. I’ll be your chum, suffer when you suffer and laugh when you laugh. I’ll bite my tongue when impatient words come. I’ll keep saying, ‘He’s nothing but a little boy—a little boy!’

I’m afraid I visualized you as a man. But looking at you now, crumpled and weary in your bed, I see you’re only a little boy. Yesterday you were in your mother’s arms. I’ve asked too much, too much.” 

Oh God: sometimes I can hardly bear to think about or be with myself.

jim mcguiggan

THE TRAGEDY OF BETRAYAL

The first million-selling recording wasn’t a pop song by a hip-shaking young artist who sang before thousands of screaming teenagers. It was made by a young Italian tenor called Enrico Caruso, way back when recording voices commercially had just begun. And it wasn’t a tender love song–it was about the agony of a heart broken by the beloved’s infidelity. I know little about music but even I’m moved by the power of the message so marvelously combined with simply awesome music. Here’s the story.
Canio, the husband of Nedda, heads up a group of traveling actors. They’re currently doing a light-hearted comedy about a woman who is betraying her husband. It’s played for laughs and always gets what it is supposed to get–everybody falling in the aisles laughing. But one evening just before they go on stage Canio discovers that his wife Nedda is in fact having an affair with Silvio, one of the actors. Life and the play told the same story but for the humiliated and heartbroken Canio the play was no longer funny–it was torment.
He sits in front of the mirror getting ready to go on stage, putting on his makeup and the mottled clothing of a clown and the pain overcomes him. Sobbing at his loss and humiliated by the betrayal, he puts on his clown’s multicolored clothing and makeup and sings the famous aria, Vesti la Giubba (On With The Motley).
To perform! With my heart maddened with sorrow.
I don’t know what I’m saying, or what I’m doing.
Still, I must face it! Courage my heart! Bah! You’re not a man;
(laughs mockingly at himself) You’re a clown!
On with the motley, and the paint and the powder!
The people pay to see you, and want their laugh, you know!
If Harlequin has stolen your Columbine, laugh clown!
The world will cry, “Bravo!”
Go hide your tears and your sorrow!
Sing and be merry playing your part. Aaah–
Laugh clown!
For the love that is ended.
Laugh for the pain that is eating your heart!
Outside the impatient crowd’s clamoring for the show to begin. No more waiting! The play begins with Columbine (Nedda) entertaining Harlequin her lover who exits through the window just as Canio (the clown) enters. The crowd roars with laughter at the timing. The clown wants to know the name of the one who was with her (so goes the play–but he’s asking for real). He’s barely in control and keeps demanding the name while she jokingly puts him off, saying he’s (being) a clown. Knowing what he knows those familiar words are now filled with sinister meaning and his rage deepens. He rips at his colorful clown clothes and says, “No, Pagliaccio non son.” (No longer the clown!)
Thinking this is all an act the spectators are mesmerized by the power of it but Nedda now realizes something terrible is happening and tries vainly to keep the play on the rails. Too late, as she turns from him he stabs her in the back and she dies calling for Silvio. Silvio runs up on to the stage and the unhinged clown stabs him as well. The broken Canio now in the depths of sad despair turns to the audience and sobs “The comedy is finished.”
Breaking our word on a trivial matter is no little thing but for obvious reasons we feel that betrayal in a profoundly important matter is so much worse. We feel at that level, with so much at stake, with so much promised, when we know what devastation we can work–we feel that the treachery can and should have been avoided.
How many live day in and day out being betrayed and never knowing it? And how many do we meet that are trying to hold their lives together at work and in the home, showing a happy face and privately going out of their minds?
We don’t need to justify murder to understand the awful pain that such treachery can generate because we know that the deeper and purer the love is the greater the agony of betrayal.
We’re right to talk about and to urge forgiveness but we mustn’t glibly ignore the awful cost of forgiveness or the abysmal depths of the pain endured. When we ask forgiveness for such sin we must understand that we’re asking for a gift of massive proportions. We need to remember the transgressor’s limitations so that we won’t be merciless but we need to remember the limitations of the one betrayed so that we won’t be criminally stupid.
Ah sin, to hell with you!

A CHURCH WORTH TALKING ABOUT

 Followers of the Christ insist that sin is sin but in their better moments they insist on the difference between sin and sinners. Sin doesn’t weep, sinners do. Sin has no remorse; many sinners have and wish they could make up for their wrongs. Sin is brutal and malicious without regret but sinners break down with hearts sore and pleas for forgiveness; Sin is undifferentiated, pure evil but sinners have good and bad in them if only we had the sense and purity of heart to recognize it.

The Church of God in Christ believes its Master gave himself for all of us and that they too are to give themselves for others (1 John 2:1-2; 3:16; 4:9-11). He was made in the likeness of sinful flesh and though without sin he was made like them in all things and Christians believe they are an extension of the risen Christ since they are his Body and they’re in the world for the same reason he was (1 Corinthians 12; John 17:11-16; 20:21).

While in our heart of hearts we always believe that, because we are sinners our emotions and practice aren’t always shaped by the truth of it. Because so many in the world care little for honorable and compassionate living and because believers very often do care, their temptation is to think themselves superior—they aren’t! Besides, people aren’t only sinners, they’re sinned against. Sin whips without pity those who haven’t found life and purpose in Christ and drives them without mercy down into the abyss. Who can gloat while that’s going on? Who can be content to have interior security and a post-mortem hope and care nothing about what’s happening to their fellow-humans? Could Christ do it?

Being a sinner myself I think I know how difficult it is to pursue a seriously Christlike life of inner moral loveliness that will express itself toward the human family or wither and die. So I can understand why the Church drifts rather than lives, is shaped by society rather than shaping it. To the degree that we reflect society and follow its lead and fashions to that degree we are a Church not worth talking about. To the degree that we are mostly concerned with our growth in inner moral excellence [in being more prayerful, more worshipful, more adoring and contemplative] without it spilling over and out to shape and bless society in the name of God—to that degree we’re a Church not worth talking about.

We didn’t learn that view of living in God’s image from Jesus. Jesus Christ’s battle against Sin was not only to give to God his own life, spotless and rich—he identified with and fought for others. He did this because it was the will of his Father who had sent him into the world for that very purpose. It would be silly to think we aren’t to seek our own spiritual enrichment and godliness—of course we are; we are to pursue holiness without which we won’t see God but maybe our spiritual enrichment comes more quickly and more surely when we think less of it than we tend to do. It wouldn’t surprise me a bit if we learned one day that Christ was so busy blessing others in his Father’s name that he didn’t consciously pray that particular day—though his entire life was a prayer.

He made it clear that his own pursuit of holiness and his own devotion to the will of God that made his entire life a prayer had more in it than his own spiritual development. Here’s how he put it in John 17:19 when he was talking to his Father, “For them I sanctify myself…” It wasn’t simply for him that he separated himself to God and his purpose, it was for others, for the Church which he was sending out into the world as the Holy Father had sent him into the world. He always had an eye on the needs of others, didn’t he?

And when God anointed him with power by the Holy Spirit, what did he do with it? Peter, who saw it all happen before his very eyes said he went about doing good, healing people, liberating them because God was with him. (Acts 10:38) Knowing he had God at his side, Jesus got involved in the hurt of people and this was how he made known that the reign of God was breaking into the world and promising that in a coming day of his choosing God would undo and completely obliterate the curse from the planet! Jesus didn’t come to rescue himself!

For Christians, Christ ranks as the most serving of all humans but that’s not to say every moment he lived he was consciously thinking, “I must serve, I must serve.” That would have been too contrived, too self-conscious. My suspicion is that Jesus of Nazareth was the most unconscious God-conscious person who ever lived. In the same way, though supremely devoted to human service it was probably rarely in his mind that he was doing it. He knew he was a servant and said he came to do that, but that wouldn’t have been how he lived it out—ceaselessly talking about it. He lived a glorious life before God and serving was a natural part of it—not programmed, not fabricated.

And how the Dragon must hate people like that; people who can be deeply moved by the pain and poverty and ignorance of their fellow-humans. How he must hate people who hate injustice and can’t easily sleep at night thinking about it; people who lie planning to do something about it and then doing something about it—something, for pity’s sake!

We find God at work doing just that and doing it even through people who have no time for him; people who give no credit to him. But what does he care? [Yes, yes, I know God is to be honored but if God waited until he was honored by humans before he poured out blessings where would we be?] He’s been blessing ungrateful and ignorant people from the beginning until now and as long as the poor are fed and the oppressed are liberated God is willing to work without getting the immediate credit. And because this is true, we find a Christ-like identification with others in their struggle even in people who don’t follow the Christ; people that shame us believers and call us up to the heights we profess in our creeds.

Take the case of the American, Eugene V. Debs, who at fourteen began work in railroad shops, eventually becoming a locomotive fireman and then a union official. His anti-war, pro-labor and (later his) strong socialist views made him a pain in the neck to courts, capitalists and powerful political figures. While in jail for contempt of court by continuing to identify himself with his constituents in a strike outlawed by the courts (a strike he himself was opposed to) he read Marx and others socialist writings. He took socialism which had been a sect and made it a mass movement. Whatever his economics or politics (and he wasn’t an intellectual or a hard-headed politician), he was a man of integrity who cared for people and that’s why, in 1920 while he was in prison, nearly a million people voted for him in as the Socialist nominee for the presidency.

Henry Steele Commager, no great fan of Debs, said that Debs’ conversion to Socialism was “almost a conspiracy, entered upon by business and government” and he explained his continuous leadership of American socialism in personal terms.

“What Debs had was a very simple thing: a hold on the affection and the imagination of the rank and file of the American workingmen that no other labor leader of his time enjoyed…He was passionately convinced that the workingman was the victim of a raw deal…”

When the man who traveled tirelessly, who was so often broke he couldn’t rent a hotel room, who was let down again and again by his own fellow union leaders—when that man was going to prison he said,

“While there is a lower class, I am in it; while there is a criminal element, I am of it; while there is a soul in prison, I am not free.” No wonder they followed him so consistently. He made good his words by his deeds and when he said, “When I rise it will be with the ranks, and not from the ranks,” they believed him.

And it’s that kind of costly involvement that gives a man’s words substance and makes him an inspiration to countless others. Quoting a fellow Socialist of Debs, sports writer Heywood Broun noted in his eulogy,

“That old man with the burning eyes actually believes that there can be such a thing as the brotherhood of man. And that’s not the funniest part of it. As long as he’s around I believe it myself.”

However imperfectly we carry out our convictions we should work at and mean to work at Matthew 25:31-46 if for no other reason than to make goodness attractive and have people glorify God (Matthew 5) when they see our good works. There was a time when many among the oppressed saw the Church’s teaching as nothing but a cover for the oppressor’s murderous and abusive ways. “Put up with a life of suffering, humiliation and robbery here because you’ll get to live on golden streets when you die!” This oppression by powerful religions was one of the streams that fed Karl Marx’s thinking and led him to speak of religion as the stupefying drug given to the people. If the Christ-Community doesn’t in some way stand up for the oppressed everywhere, to the degree that it is well able by God’s enabling it, it takes it leave of its Lord who came to live and die and rise again to rescue the masses.

Convinced believer, Mame Garner Miller, had that kind of Jesus Christ and Debsian involvement in mind when she wrote:

So long as hungry faces,
Ask and are denied;
So long as barefoot bodies
Shiver far and wide;
So long as there are hearts
That never hear of Christ;
So long as there is sorrow
And youth is sacrificed…
I have to give.
So long as there is heartache
Or suffering anywhere;
So long as men are homeless
With burdens I can share;
So long as life abundant
Is lived by, oh so few;
so long as the Kingdom calls
Some things I must do…
I have to give.

Let me repeat: the coming of God in Jesus Christ was not just so that certain individuals could cast out their demons and clean up their inner houses. There’s more at stake than personal holiness—in the name of the Christ we’re to give the chance for personal holiness to every human by fully identifying with them and where it’s needed, giving them something to eat, to wear, to work at and somewhere to live. And Someone to trust and hand their lives over to and find fullness of life in return!

Christians shouldn’t apologize for providing clothes and foods and jobs for people. They should be ashamed if they won’t attempt it! But they shouldn’t be ashamed to say that the more fundamental problem that affects the human family and generates hunger and oppression and indifference to the needs of others is our alienation from God. All loss stems from there, our refusal to help people bear their loss stems from there and if while we’re working at putting food in their stomachs, clothes on their back, decent jobs at their disposal, we speak to their lives about the Christ, we’re in there fully identified with them. I’m not saying non-Christians don’t feel the pain of the abused, helpless and uncared for and get involved in costly and prolonged commitment to help—many do. They do! Whether they know it or not or care one way or another, they are serving God’s purposes as Cyrus did (see Isaiah 44 & 45).

We’re all in the same armed conflict! We’re all being attacked by Sin, all in danger of being swallowed. If you lose, I lose. We might be angry at one another for perfectly good reasons but above and beyond and in our personal differences it’s a satanic mindset that keeps us at each other’s throat. But every heart that longs for freedom is calling to us, often without words:

“Don’t leave me to perish! Help me escape from his iron grip that stifles my breath and takes my life. See me as a slave who longs to be free. Don’t judge me as one who takes pleasure in his slavery just because you see me doing Sin’s will. Look at my eyes, listen to my fear-filled tone, and take note of my air of defeat at Sin’s hands. And when you see me on the run from Sin, don’t help him to get me back! Urge me on and give me food and clothing and encouragement as I flee. Don’t rejoice at the sound of his dogs—sense my horror when I think he’s gaining on me. Cover my tracks, outwit the dogs, give me a place to sleep, be wiser than the hunters, be as passionate about my getting clean away as the bounty-hunting confederates of the Dragon are to drag me down in stronger chains. Be a brother to me, be a sister to me. See my need, don’t let me go back. Make my freedom and protection your concern. Feel as passionately about my freedom in God as others have felt about the poor oppressed in visible slave systems.

Yes, I know I’ve brought a lot of my trouble down on my own head, but it’s no less trouble. I know I must be out of my mind but I’m not so out of my mind that I don’t know I can’t make it alone. Help me!”

They want us to feel what Ralph Waldo Emerson expressed for so many in their response to the Fugitive Slave Act which threatened punishment not only for those who would aid slaves to escape but punishment also for those who didn’t help the slave-hunters to recapture slaves. He said:

“There is infamy in the air. I have a new experience. I wake in the morning with a painful sensation, which I carry about all day, and which, when traced home, is the odious remembrance of the ignominy that has fallen on Massachusetts, which robs the landscape of beauty and takes the sunshine out of every hour… I will not obey it, by God.”

Even the people we the upright see as moral villains stand by each other. Didn’t the Christ say the tax collectors and morally disreputable loved one another? Neil Young’s moving appeal to his home city, Philadelphia, in the song of that name, gives the sense of the need of every follower of Christ—a need for a City whose builder and maker is God. The song expresses the hungry, pathetic appeal for help from those dying from diseases they dread; diseases immediately linked with drug use, sexual promiscuity and practices of the worst and most dangerous kinds. The moving appeal includes this:

City of brotherly love
Place I call home,
Don’t turn your back on me
I don’t want to be alone,
Love lasts forever.

That expresses well my appeal to the Church, the city I call home; a city in which the inhabitants are said to love one another. A Church that has such a spirit, such a purpose, such feeling, such an offer and is like that for Christ’s sake—that’s a Church outsiders will talk about. That’s a Church of which God and our Lord Jesus will be unashamed to say, will be proud to say “That’s my church!” and the Holy Spirit will be unashamed to say, “I dwell in it!”

                                               That’s a Church worth talking about!

STORYING FOR & ABOUT GOD

2 Corinthians 5:14-15; 1 Peter 2.24

When you give you money or care or attention to someone you aren’t just being good—you look like Him!
When you forgive….! When you refuse to stand by and watch injustice without stepping in—you look like Him. You are doing something more than doing good things—you are Storying when you profess to do these things in the name of Jesus Christ

 “Who?” they ask. 
 “Jesus Christ,” you say. 
 “And who is he?” they might say. 
 “He’s the Incarnation of the one true God,” you could say. 
 “I don’t understand,” they might say and if you are blessed they might also say, “What do you mean?” 
 And you could say, “Do you have a few minutes to listen to a Story?” 
 And then there on the park bench or at your house if they can come by or where I saw (this very day, 10th June, 2016) in a bookstore a woman speaking fervently about God to another attentive young woman. Anywhere will do! And you could begin with God and children who lost their way like sheep that have wandered off and tell how that a God came looking for them and continues to do it. Not a God who wants them to die forever but one who wants them to live, fully live and live forever. And not a God who seeks through magic (that’s for the movies) but who uses very ordinary people like you and me to tell of His loving search.
 Ah, sadly, you might say, I don’t know how to do that. That I understand for everywhere I go I hear preaching/teaching is about moral response, it’s ethical exhortation, it’s what to do if you want to be happy in pleasing God. The assumption in it is that God is already known, so we don’t need to talk about Him. We need to live better, more obediently, more faithfully more consistently and if we’re not doing what we often do, exposing the errors of everyone else, that’s what we preach—moral exhortation!
Nobody’s thrilled or stunned or enthralled or delighted or challenged or inspired by the vision of God because we hear so little of that. And we hear so little of it because, “We all know abut God, don’t you see; it’s obedience we need to hear (yeah right!) and that’s why we need to be told one more time what we’ve heard since childhood: what God expects us to do, commands us to do, calls us to do!
 No wonder so many of us don’t know how to Story for and about God. We’re taught scads of stories out of the Bible from which the teachers draw lessons “to apply to our lives.” 
 
[Holy Father won’t you come to us through preachers and teachers and worshiper leaders and reveal yourself that we might now and then be amazed and energized that we might have the strength, more and more, to be and do that which we’ve heard from the pulpits and lecterns since childhood? You are faithful and so we will depend on you to provide, Holy One, but some of us struggle so and need your aid and need it quickly. This prayer in Jesus name.]