When curses break

In the movies or books when someone comes out of a barren and lonely wilderness experience it's, to my recollection, often portrayed as straight triumph. Squeals, giggles, and jumping around in circles (or roars, fist bumps, and chest thumping if you're the sterner sex) seem like the natural accompaniment to engagement rings, entrance letters, positive pregnancy tests, and last minute touchdowns. In many cases they are. Today though, I thought about a time when deliverance and triumph brought confusion and weeping - namely, at the empty tomb of Christ. We, living several centuries later, jump straight into the glory and victory of Christ's resurrection. We sing "Christ the Lord is Risen Today!" with bursting throats and glowing faces, and we revel in all that the atonement has bought us. We look forward to being with Christ and being reunited with our loved ones in Heaven. We rest in the thought that our future in secure in the one who defeated death and made it possible for us to live in friendship with God. However, as our pastor pointed out, Mary stood weeping and wondering where Jesus' body was. Simon Peter and John didn't have any answers either. The very symbol of our joy was initially a time of sad bewilderment to those who first saw it.

Why is this important to me? One of the dangers of denigrating or downplaying literature is that people stop learning to understand narratives. They don't study how actions and characters play out in a variety of circumstances. This plays out in real life as well. Who's the bad guy? Where's the unreliable narrator? Who's the quiet force for good whose life is overlooked by those who seek power to change in obvious places? What, you may ask, does this have to do with answering my question? The Bible is at it's heart a book of stories. It's a narrative of redemption. In it we find people in a myriad of circumstances encountering the God of creation - from a faithful young Jewish girl to a bed hopping Samaritan woman to old prophetess. It doesn't matter if you're weeping or laughing or tapping your toe with a stern look in your eyes - there is a story that touches your life somewhere. This really hit me when I was listening to our pastor recount the Easter story because for a while I thought I had a story that didn't fit anywhere until suddenly I saw it writ large in the confusion of Easter Sunday.

When I found out I was expecting our son I didn't have a picture worthy hallmark reaction. I didn't blush or cry or giggle or anything like that. I swore. I'd been waiting for years to see that positive test, and when it showed up I swore because I though surely this was a cruel hoax. After all these years (and after what my doctor last said about starting fertility treatments) I was sure this couldn't actually be what it obviously was. When I walked down the hall to tell Allen it was very much in the same way Mary might have approached the disciples - "You won't believe this - something must be wrong.
For weeks and months later I was uncomfortable with this part of my story. I thought there was something wrong that I reacted with disbelief and confusion, but listening to the Easter story at church today I finally saw my story in their story. I saw the wondering and the weeping and the questioning. I saw people who doubted what was in front of them. I saw a great curse defeated and heralded not with shouts or parades but with people running around trying to find where they'd left their sorrow and defeat. In some strange way I found it comforting to know that I was reacting the way other good and faithful people have reacted in assuming that this great blessing was only a new and varied sorrow. All that afternoon while I waited to hear from the nurse and tried not to think too hard, I was by the tomb of Christ not quite realizing that He had broken the curse and was bringing new life to me. (And I will add here that I have been deliberately and literally cursed in my life by someone who should have know better. Someone tried to speak words of death and condemnation over my life, but by the grace of God His grace and His power have prevailed.) Then I called the nurse and heard the good news and rejoiced. I saw as I had never seen before how curses fade away before the goodness of God, and I rejoiced.

Sitting there in the church where our son was recently baptized listening to our pastor describe Mary waiting beside the tomb it seemed as if I saw where my own quiet longings and desires had been buried in my at the time lifeless womb. Like Mary there were times when I would sneak away to weep beside this grave, and like Mary I was astonished one day to see that the stone had been rolled away. But to what purpose? Was this only another trial and disappointment to bear? No, it is life as perhaps Mary and I hardly dared dream. It is the story of resurrection, and it is the story of how we found out were expecting our little buddy. Roughly. The Bible doesn't report any swearing in the Easter story, but now that I think of it I'd be surprised if at least a couple of the disciples weren't muttering imprecations under their breath.

jog along theology

As I mentioned on another post soon after starting this blog I've gotten frustrated with the entire counseling/wellness process because (and I suppose some of this is necessary) it can start to feel very self absorbed after a while. This is not to say that counseling or taking care of yourself is bad. They're really very good. I've just been feeling a need to step away from all that and get a big picture. That's why I was so glad to hear tonight's sermon. Our church has been going through Philippians and tonight we came to the passage in chapter 3 where Paul says:

12 Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. 13 Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, 14 I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.

There are a few things that really sank in tonight. First, Paul hadn't "arrived" as a Christian. I know in the past I've seen that and just mentally dismissed that as pious apostle speak. "Yeah, ok so you haven't arrived. Yeah, you're the chief off all sinners. Ok, so maybe you murdered a few people. Wait - murder? Oh, but you had that dramatic conversion thing where you were stricken blind and heard the voice of Jesus, so that really kind of offsets everything else you ever actually did wrong." And so I talk to myself and fail to pick up what Paul is actually saying. But here's what I got tonight. Paul, as a Christian, wasn't satisfied with himself. Maybe he struggled with patience or a quick temper or getting up in the morning for prayer. I don't know. We do know that Paul had some sort of "thorn in the flesh," and it's probably one of the reasons he knew he still had a ways to go in sanctification. It's just not something we (ok - I) think about. When you're an apostle/pastor/Christian author being humble about where you are in life is just one of those things you're supposed to do. However, during the sermon, I started to think a little more about a man with a past I'm sure he'd desperately like to forget and who probably had more than one reason to wish God would just fix things already so he could get on with his life. At the time I suppose it's possible that Paul didn't realize what a huge amazing role he played in establishing the Church. So what did Paul do with his broken past and his temptations and weaknesses? He tried harder. He pressed forward. He strained and stretched his sinews out towards the goal line. Now, I've heard it said and continue to maintain that "just try harder" makes really lousy theology. It can lead to legalism, hopelessness (or smug superiority), and complete burn-out. Christianity isn't about just trying harder. So what's the bridge here? Is Paul saying something impossible or out of character? No, Paul is saying press forward towards Christ. Our pastor pointed out that if we look to ourselves we tap out. We are shallow wells and soon emptied. If we look to others (that very popular tactic for taking one "out of oneself") we're liable to envy and discontent. However, if we look to Jesus we find both our goal and the strength to reach that goal. Jesus is "the author and finisher of our faith" - the one who "wills and works in us to to accomplish every good work." Our goal is heaven and the likeness of Christ who is the second Adam. Our strength is Christ's will working in us.

And even Paul was a ways from the goal! He still had to get up every morning and keep jogging down the road towards the New Jerusalem.

He had to (in Christ's strength) keep working out his salvation. So while I'd say that "just try harder" still makes lousy theology I'm beginning to wonder if maybe a few of us are entirely missing the point that we are supposed to be engaged in an actual, physical marathon. Running the race isn't just something you do in your head (although I've heard that if you don't have your mental game in place you're never going to make it). It's something you do by lacing up your shoes and putting your feet down one after the other for a really, really long time. This might be a spiritually conditioned race, but it requires more than having your head game in order. Theology works itself out. For a marriage to look like God's intention you have to physically do some things and refrain from doing others. Same for loving your kids, your neighbors, your country, etc. And we know we're running the race when we start every new stretch by running to where Jesus is. And, here's where the conviction comes for me, we know where Jesus is by knowing who He is. We go to church and pray and read the Bible. I've gone to health professionals and counselors chasing after wellness, but I've neglected to chase after God revealed in His Word.

Writing all this I have to say I feel a little "oooh, hey look I'm writing about the BIBLE aren't I all spiritual and adorable," but I really want to try and hang on to this one. I mean it. Just a week ago I was climbing a peak in Yosemite. There wasn't a trail, and I didn't have any signs telling me how close I was to the top. There were several times I thought about turning around 'cause it was taking too long, and I was getting weary climbing scree at 10k + elevation, but I kept going because I knew just based on the surrounding geography there would be something worth seeing at the top. Let me just say that was one of the most amazing views of the Sierra Nevada range I have ever experienced. I pressed forward, and I saw the prize. There, object lesson inserted.