Lenten Devotional 07: Unbearable

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Scripture reading: Lamentations 1:1-20

Jerusalem has fallen; naked and despised she turns her face away (586 BC/BCE). The author of the book of Lamentations evokes the pain of the people of Judah. This biblical poetry captures the grief of death, unlike most things I’ve ever seen.

As I read this text, I imagined death, imprisonment, rape, desolation, humiliation, self-loathing, and the greatest of sorrow. I felt the primal urge to cry out in a mix of terror and rage. Why the intensity? I’m not a Jew, it wasn’t my holy city that was destroyed, I’ve read worse, I’ve seen worse, I’ve experienced nothing of that magnitude, and I’m (at most) two thousand five hundred ninety eight years removed from Jerusalem’s exile into Babylon. What’s the big deal?

The poetic stanzas of our pericope are as raw and gritty as the worst parts of life; indeed, the pain it expresses is at the heart of all human sorrow. I hate piety and I hate sin (in the sense that I’d rather pretend it wasn’t real) but then people die, love turns to hate, people suffer, and no one seems to care about anyone more than they care for themselves. Some people look at the world and say, “God’s not real,” and/or, “there’s no such thing as sin.” The primal emotion that I feel as I read this passage of scripture (which I admittedly don’t like feeling) is twofold.

First, if one has ever felt, like life just kicked their world out from under them, they will know what I felt reading Lamentations 1:1-20. One who’s had to experience the death of one (or many) loved ones knows what it is to lament. Nothing feels right, no words sound right, everyone looks at you differently, and your sorrow is not received well. And, if you’re like me in those seasons, you can’t bear looking at God without questions; nor, can you look at yourself because you don’t like what you see and what you feel.

Second, how, is this not a reason to lament? How is this anything but the result of brokenness? I’m not the holy saint telling sinners to get their act together; I’m the sinner telling the sinners: this is why redemption is real, this is why we need the grace of a loving God, this is why we repent, this is why we are baptized, and this is why we eat and drink at the Lord’s table. We are prisoners to the sin nature (v. 14). The emptiness, bitterness, self-loathing, and grief are incomprehensible. We are like bums, tossed a dime, left to rot; stripped of our self-importance. We are like Jerusalem, fallen into the control of Babylon; prisoners, slaves, paid laborers – the system owns us – this is the hegemony of the human will. Only the work of God can restore us from brokenness.   

Lord, God, we confess we are sinners, broken, and desolated, like the people of Judah. We rely on your promise to restore us. Forgive us, O Lord, of this brokenness we call sin, the pain we call reality, and the self-destruction we call the happenings of life – which make us cry out! Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us and deliver us from evil. For you are Lord and you alone do the work of redemption. In the name of the one and only God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Lenten Devotional 03: The Justice of Mercy

Friday, February 24, 2012

Scripture reading: Leviticus19:9-18

In this Lenten season we prepare ourselves for the death and resurrection of Christ, remembering our sinful nature, and repenting of the mindset it creates. At the end of Lent we will experience hope through God’s grace in the cross event. The sin nature is not our focus, but the reality of God’s grace that redeems sinful humanity.

Today, we look at the laws of holiness and how they play a part in our Lenten journey. Personally, I hate talking about sin and the law, but it’s important to know how these things lead us to the grace and mercy of the Lord.

 Prior to today’s pericope, we have a very controversial passage (Lev. 18) about sexual practice (or sexual idolatry theories, but that’s another conversation). The following chapter (Lev. 20) is a similar account. Amidst all this talk about the Canaanite god Molech, idolatry, and more sex than I know what to do with we have our passage concerning neighbors.

The Lord wants the people of God to be just and merciful to the people around us: sharing with the poor (vv. 9-10), honest in our business (vv. 11-14), balanced in our justice (vv. 15-16), reasoning, and loving to our neighbor (17-18). For the Israelites, this meant showing mercy to their persecutors, which may have been different than they were treated. This was true for Israelites dealing with Canaanite idolatry and for those in Babylonian captivity. This is true for us.

As we sacrifice things through temporary fasts, remembering the real sacrifice of Christ, may we recall the scriptures and know that it’sall about God – the work God has done and continues to do – and deception’scurse (that bonded our will to sin) has been met with the mercy of a just Lord.

Lord, God, you sent your son to atone for the fact that we are sinners, but the fact that we are sinners pales in comparison to the just mercy of your grace; you are the Lord our God. May your grace do what the law and our piety fails to do and point our eyes to your cross. May the words of the scriptures be a reminder that you are God and only through your work of the cross are we justified. In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Religion and the Internet vs. Systemic Affliction

I abandoned the regular flow of dialect to engage the works of others: Lewis, Dostoyevsky, and DeVries. As a result, I’ve enjoyed the invitation to minister to people in the absence of writing. With my eyes fixed on the cross, this blog seems less essential to my being. But, some thoughts have been stirring that I thought I’d share with you all.

Religion is not the problem, as some might suggest, it is infected by what afflicts the greater systemic issue. Religion is meant to serve as a GPS to the cross (where we find God) and the negative symptoms occur when we abandon our navigational tools. Religion is a stabilizer to our experiential and emotional perceptions; it is a set of beliefs, constructed of theologies and philosophies, which do not waiver when we don’t feel good about God. Sadly, religion tends to get the blame for things it has little or nothing to do with and its definition gets lost.  

The greater affliction I mentioned earlier, infect more than just religion. The internet is a relevant example, a system within systems, which is meant to serve the user. Our systemic affliction takes algorithms meant to customize sites (like Google, Facebook, Netflix, and more) and reveals an ugly symptom of the greater affliction (the symptom being individualism). If “it’s all about me” it’s no wonder we point fingers at systems, like religion and the internet.

Dear friends, life is the system and it is afflicted by a chronic condition, the sin nature. Sin isn’t popular and it may be over emphasized in some denominations, but it is a real affliction. Thankfully, religion tells us that the God of the cross died for us. Christ’s death is the antidote for our chronic affliction and the systemic affliction is given over to the hope of resurrection. This is the work of God, through the gift of grace. And that, my friends, is the definition of religion.  

"Just a Song," Girls, (Father, Son, Holy Ghost; music only)