Moment of Grace

Yesterday, I read similar passages from two books. They both centered on the necessity of going through hard times because after a failure or suffering, people are able to identify with the frailties of others and accept them with humility and love. In that process, we lose faith in our ability to conquer ourselves and we rely instead on the grace of God to do that for us. It is the first leg of any 12 step journey and it is what St. Paul recognized when he said "when I am weak then I am strong."

No one, of course, wants to go through the Good Fridays of our lives, even if we know that Easter Sunday follows. The pain, however, acts as a looking glass through which we are able to see the pain of others. When we reach out to try to ease it, the world becomes a more loving place.

What is true for people is also true for churches. The Body of Christ metaphor which describes the Christian bond throughout the world is more real than one would, at first, imagine. We often think of churches as institutions, but, in reality, they are really fleshy examples of their members' lives writ large. They reflect the narrative arc of a well written, three-act novel just as people do: connection, conflict and resolution.

On the worldwide stage, the Catholic Church is in Act Two of a very painful drama: pedophile priests. If the pattern holds true, on the other side of this crisis lies a humbled Church that is a more powerful sign of the unconditional love of Christ. This trauma will have destroyed the clericalism that has allowed people to be observers of their own spiritual dance rather than participants. Its members will have have been forced to reach deep and forgive a brother who differs from them only in the nature of his sin. The light of Christ will shine more brightly.

This is a pregnant moment in the lives of Catholic Christians. Once the administrative house is put in order, those in the pews have the choice of once again looking to the clergy to act as their intermediaries or standing beside them as each listens for the Spirit within. The priest as "other" sets everyone up for disappointment; the priest as "brother" acknowledges that he and we are partners in building the Kingdom that is to come.

Act Three has yet to be written - and the pen is in our hands.

The Social Contract

There was a story in the paper this week about organized groups of hackers who break into the computer systems of large organizations to steal or alter information. Many people are at risk because their passwords, identifying characteristics and other supposedly secure data are now in the hands of those who see themselves above the law.

The big question debated in an NPR radio interview was whether or not this is a crime. Hello out there - I thought a crime was "an action injurious to the public." Why is cybercrime being treated more like some sort of digital graffiti spree by bored teenagers than the serious threat to property and safety that it is? Why is the "boys will be boys " (with no excuses intended for girls) approach ever tolerated?

Modern peoples have entered into what John Locke called a "social contract" with each other. It is a decision to voluntarily give up some of our own freedom to do entirely as we wish in order to receive the larger benefit of living in a safe and supportive environment. We pledge not to rape women so that we ourselves might not be raped; we agree not to steal from our neighbors in order that our own property will not be threatened. It is in our self interest to create a safe and just society and so we put limits around our own behavior.

At the moment, the fabric of this agreement seems to be fraying. - more emphasis on the "unum" in our national motto than the "pluribus." The individual is so elevated that our ability to live peaceably together is ever harder to achieve. We talk glibly about our "carbon footprint," but neglect to consider the impact of our social footprint as well. How does the way we live affect the lives of those who are our neighbors in the community and the world?

The social footprint includes everything from how loud is the music we play to the demands we make upon the common water supply. All that we do touches the others involved in our social contract in some way. The problem is that many people are leaving bear tracks where bird imprints would be more appropriate.

The two greatest commandments, Jesus said, are to love God and love your neighbor. In other words, we are to walk through life with love. To love is to look over your shoulder at those following behind, to look down at your feet to see who might be beneath them and to look ahead to sweep away obstacles that might be in the path.

Love does not hack into the computers of others. Love remembers that we never walk alone.

Misconceptions

I met a woman over the weekend who has been away from mainstream Christianity for 30 years. It seems that she had problems with some of the doctrine. One of the issues she struggled with was the resurrection of the body. "I believe that the spirit moves on to something better," she said. "You've just described the resurrection of the body," my husband, Paul, replied.

In her childhood understanding of the faith, she had never grasped that the bodies we dwell in on earth are not the bodies that we live in when we die. The resurrected Jesus passed through walls and appeared and disappeared at will; our bodies will be something different as well. St. Paul says in 1 Corinthians. "the body that is sown...in weakness ...is raised in power."

The vision of the mortal seed giving birth to some kind of glorious immortality passed this lady by when she was a teenager. How sad that she has lived so long with a misunderstanding of what Christianity actually teaches.

I think we all probably live with misconceptions about how to live out the gospel. It's gone through many emphases over the years as people focused on one aspect or another. What is clear at the moment is that what was birthed in a vision of freedom and glory has wound up in a focus on "this vale of tears" and the need for us to "take up our cross" in order to follow Jesus.

What if the cross we take up is the one to which was nailed, as St. Paul says in Colossians 2:14, the law, "obliterating" its charges against us for all time?  Then, the cross Jesus offers is the victorious one, not the one of suffering, because He already bore that one for us.

I think that Jesus envisioned a far more powerful life for us than we believe we can live and therefore, we settle for far less than He wished. Our prayers and our hymns beg and plead for grace, mercy and forgiveness. What more can God do to demonstrate that we already have it? The God who does not live in time saved us from despair in the first century, is saving us today and will save us tomorrow. It is one ongoing "obliterating" experience.

If we don't believe in our own capacity in Christ to bring love to all and to experience God's peace, then we certainly can't achieve it. We've been given the ticket for the cruise, but it's up to us to say thank you and get on the boat.

Golfer Rory McIlroy, after having had a disastrous final round at the Master's, quoted Muhammad Ali: repetitive affirmations are the key to victory. McIlroy must have repeated "I will win the US Open" 100 times a day in the two months between the tournaments because that is exactly what he did. Not only did he win, but he won spectacularly, setting 12 records in the process. Belief in ourselves can be that powerful. Belief in our God and His provision for us can be even more so.

Our victory over sin and death has already been won; most of us, however, get stuck at the foot of the cross instead of in front of the empty tomb. We get caught up in the pre-Jesus picture of the human race instead of the cleansed and freed people who live the "abundant life" He came to give.

Perhaps we should be repeating 100 times a day the opening to the Letter to the Ephesians: "We have been blessed with every spiritual blessing in the heavens." Then we might be able to live as if we meant it.

Diversity

Yesterday there were four cars ahead of me while I was stopped at a light and I noticed that they looked like a chess board. Side by side were two identical SUV's - one black, one white. Beyond them was a pair of nearly identical sedans, but this time, the one on the left was white and one on the right was black.

When I got to my destination, I parked and noticed that the pine tree in front of me was not one color, but two: the inner needles were green and the outer ones were gray. Next to it was a leafy bush whose mature leaves were dark loden and the new growth almost lime. I've been mulling over these contrasts ever since.

Clearly, our world is not monochromatic - not in its foliage, its manufactured products or its people. In everything there is contrast. We are not created to be the same. If we were, Adam would have been satisfied to simply make another buddy and not a woman.

We all spend our lives, though, trying to make others to be just like ourselves. We complain when friends or spouses don't have the same interests or reactions that we do. We judge people for dressing differently or expressing themselves in a way that sets them apart. We shun those whose behavior we don't condone. We willingly give away our freedom to decide for ourselves and follow the herd instead.

There are several scripture verses in which St. Paul chastises the various churches who have thrown away, as he says in Galatians, "the freedom we have in Christ. (Gal 2:4)" In frustration he chastises them for being taken over by rules made by humans: "Do not handle! Do not taste! Do not touch!" (Col 2:21)
He rails against those who judge others by what they eat or drink or how they are trying to "earn favor with God" by observing special "days and months, seasons and years (Gal 4:10)."

He admits that "Such regulations indeed have the appearance of wisdom," but states that they don't help us control ourselves. It is the Christ within us who enables us to live and love and birth His Spirit into the world. Change comes from the inside, not imposed by a plethora of rules made by others on the outside.

Unity and sameness are not synonymous. Some religions, in their quest for oneness, have made sameness the criterion for accomplishing it. If that were a value, I believe nature would look different and so would we all. We are called, instead, to be united in a vision: love God and love our neighbor. The more rules we make as to how to accomplish the vision lead to disagreements and disunity. The more rules, the more controversy.

I would never call myself a libertarian - and I'm grateful for for many of the protections of the twenty first century - but I am beginning to chafe under the rules that keep popping up to direct our behavior. Both our churches and our nation are feeling the need to narrow our choices and monitor our actions. Whether it's fining a kid's lemonade stand for not having a permit or limiting who touches the communion vessels after the service, we seem to be at the mercy of others who are sure they know better than we how we should live.

I prefer the "freedom of the children of the God" (Rom 8:21).

Reach for the Light

Ten random thoughts in the middle of the night:

1. Every encounter we have is a choice to reach for the darkness or reach for the light. We can add to a person's feeling of self worth or diminish it.

2. A person sitting alone in the midst of others who are not is an invitation to bring that person into the circle of light.

3. The prayer at church this morning was for the Holy Spirit to "Come!"  Perhaps if we realized that the Holy Spirit is already here, we would use the power the Spirit has already brought.

4. A church becomes a community only when people choose to open themselves to one another. Knowing one another's name is the first step. Choosing to start a conversation is the second.

5. The best competition is when people try to outdo each other in kindness to each other.

6. People come into our lives for a reason: to honor them, to be honored by them or to discover where the walls are within us that keep us apart.

7. We are rich if we think we are and no matter how rich, if we think we are poor, we are.

8. There are more points of view than our own and they might even have merit.

9. Money runs the country - only if we keep silent in the face of the disruptive consequences of the profit motive.

10. When we choose to suffer pain, fear and disappointment alone, we shut out the presence of God.

Sweet dreams.

Liability vs. Responsibility

There was a drowning in our neighborhood recently and one rather disturbing thing happened: nothing. The friends of the victim did not shout or raise any kind of alarm when he failed to reappear after diving into the water. The 20 year old died only 15 ft from shore.

Perhaps even more distubing, however, is the community discussion about the incident that took place last night. It seems that the roving park attendant employed by the Homeowners Association made a statement on tv that he was sorry that he hadn't been there because he could have saved the young man. Neighbors were upset because saving people is not part of his job description and the association might be liable if he acted in a life guard capacity. In fact, having a flotation device at the pier is not an even an option because it would indicate that the homeowners were accepting some responsibility for what happens in the 60 acre lake. "This is not a swimming pool and we don't employ life guards," the Board President said.

Apparently the neighborhood would rather make the evening news as Alameda, CA did when fire and police looked on while Raymond Zack stood for an hour in the freezing water of San Franciso Bay and committed suicide. They weren't properly trained to save him, they told the press.

Doing nothing in the face of an emergency is still enough of a story that it's worthy of note, but apparently it is becoming policy and before long it won't be of much interest. At the same Homeowners meeting, a police officer stated that they cannot get involved in anything other than a felony in progress while on a break. They must call any other type of report in and await the arrival of their colleagues who are on duty. This reminds me of the rescue personnel in a New York bagel shop who stood by while a pregnant woman died. They were on a break, too, and apparently this means that they were no longer covered by the liability insurance policies that protect active duty responders.

The potential for liability is shaping our cultural values. What was once unthinkable is now becoming the law: inaction in the face of danger to another person is to be expected, not condemned. Apparently "Good Samaritans" are still able to come to another's rescue, but the people paid to do so and covered by insurance while they do, are bound by stringent rules that direct their availability and actions. We create this culture of caution by the instructions that we give to those we employ. Are we listening to ourselves???

This is leading nowhere good. If we can no longer depend on each other to watch our backs, we increase the danger to us all. The insurance companies are stipping us of the expectation of safety that is basic to a society. Out of fear of "liability," we are, instead, ensuring that we will live in fear of harm.

God calls us to "love they neighbor as thyself." This is not difficult if we realize that it is only in standing together that any of us can survive for long. It is the lone tree that is destroyed in a hurricane; those in a cluster are protected from the wind. Isolation from responsibility is, ultimately, self defeating.

Fear, mistrust and the economics of the insurance industry's stock on Wall Street are driving this train. A loveless legalism is the next stop. St. John has a better answer: "perfect love casts out fear." (1 John 4:18).

The Silence

Perhaps you've noticed that it's been almost ten days since I last posted any thoughts. This is a blog about prayer shaped insights, so you might be able to guess what has been happening: there haven't been any! Or so I've thought.

What I had been looking for was a clear Presence in all the events of my life. What I have found, however, is quixotic - a hedge maze that is laid out so beautifully, but which requires trust that, however many bends there are, there is a way out. That's an insight that didn't seem to be of much use to anybody, hence the silence. It is, however, one that is familiar to most and so, tonight, I write.

The big question for Paul and me right now is retirement and what to do with the rest of our lives. There are many closed doors here in Virginia Beach - so clear a pattern that it has the marks of God's hand and not just the dive in the economy. Paul is 65 and the work and network that have sustained him through ten years of consulting have dried up right on time. Except that this is not the time that he had in mind and all is happening earlier than planned. What next? We do not so much want to retire, but redirect our energies.

The trouble with a hazy goal, however, is that when everything is a possibility, nothing much happens. Narrowing the focus is what brings about real change. This involves choice and exclusion and much hesitation about doing either. It is when most of the extraneous noise has been silenced, however, that one can hear the whisper. It is only in loss that what should remain can be revealed.

There have been days when I sit down to write some thoughts to share here and the posts almost write themselves; there are other days when each paragraph is pulled from inside me. I think I have been looking for our future to present itself like one of those inspired moments - it's happened before -  but what we've been experiencing is not a Cesarean section, but the inexorable bearing down of a birth that is taking its own not-so-sweet time.

I take comfort, though, in a song we sing at church:You Are Mine, by David Haas

I will come to you in the silence,
I will lift you from all your fear
You will hear my voice
I claim you as my choice,
Be still and know I am here.

Do not be afraid, I am with you.
I have called you each by name.
Come and follow me
I will bring you home;
I love you and you are mine.

Our mazes are all different. They may be serene or fanciful, convoluted or frustrating, but with this kind of God as our companion, we don't have to worry about getting lost. What makes a maze the most fun to navigate, however, is the guidance and direction that we get from those along the path. So, I discuss and I listen...and I write.