The struggles of others and my own caused me to see something. Life can be very hard. People get sick. Babies are born with serious defects. The food that makes everyone else sing with joy is your enemy. Some starve. Some are starved for affection. And then it hit me, there are those who have no “good news” besides the gospel.
What if the gospel was a person’s only good news?
What if all the stars you once wished upon were now fires waiting to fall upon your balding head?
What if every ray of sun that once warmed your face now burned you to the core?
What if every cool breeze was a reminder of the world’s indifference?
What if every phone call was full of dread?
What if every night sighed for the coming morn and every dawn threatened tears for the day to come?
What if every life you watched lived tempted envy?
Every beauty a reminder of the ugly?
What if every smile was a longing?
What if every word of holy writ was held up to the light in hope like a hardened miner trembles for gold?
And what if you knew yourself so well, the only good news could be forgiveness?
That would be good, news indeed.
“Not only preachers…but anyone who tries to express the Gospel in words, even if only to himself, has much to learn here. The weight of these sad times we must obey and must obey just because they are sad times, sad and bewildering times for people who try to hold on to the Gospel and witness to it somehow when in so many ways the weight of our sadness all but crushes the life out of it. One wonders if there is anything more crucial for the preacher to do than to obey the sadness of our times by taking it into account without equivocation or subterfuge, by speaking out of our times and into our times not just what we ought to say about the Gospel, not just what it would appear to be in the interests of the Gospel for us to say, but what we have ourselves felt about it, experienced of it. It is possible to think of the Gospel and our preaching of it as, above all and at no matter what risk, a speaking of the truth about the way things are. And it is possible to think of that truth as tragedy, as comedy, and as fairy tale.”
– Frederick Buechner, Telling the Truth: The Gospel as Tragedy, Comedy & Fairy Tale, 6-7
But let him take heart. He is called not to be an actor, a magician, in the pulpit. He is called to be himself. He is called to tell the truth as he has experienced it. He is called to be human, to be human, and that is calling enough for any man. If he does not make real to them the human experience of what it is to cry into the storm and receive no answer, to be sick at heart and find no healing, then he becomes the only one there who seems not to have had that experience because most surely under their bonnets and shawls and jackets, under their afros and ponytails, all the others there have had it whether they talk of it or not. As much as anything else, it is their experience of the absence of God that has brought them there in search of his presence, and if the preacher does not speak of that and to that, then he becomes like the captain of a ship who is the only one aboard who either does not know that the waves are twenty feet high and the decks awash or will not face up to it so that anything else he tries to say by way of hope and comfort and empowering becomes suspect on the basis of that one crucial ignorance or disingenuousness or cowardice or reluctance to speak in love any truths but the ones that people love to hear.
– Frederick Buechner, Telling the Truth: The Gospel as Tragedy, Comedy & Fairy Tale, p. 40-41
Sunrise Over the Eastern Shore by Fujishima Takeji
“…do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself…” – Jesus
“One of the things I like about jazz, kid, is I don’t know what’s going to happen next. Do you?” – Bix Beiderbecke
If I sit in one of the red plastic Adirondack chairs in my front yard as they are now, I will look Venus full in the face following dusk and Saturn will be on my left shoulder sitting. The cicadas and frogs will sing his praises and walkers will wave. My favorite time of the year though is when the air is almost too cool. The stars are brightest then and there are no mosquitoes to swat away. There are fewer walkers and the cicadas are silent as the grave. The trains can be heard in the valley below our mountain and they sound like all the lives I have sometimes wondered if I should have lived.
Mostly I just think about tomorrow. And even when I think about what has happened before, tomorrow takes over. For yesterday always bleeds into tomorrow.
More times than not, anxiety about tomorrow is at my elbow. Sometimes that anxiety manifests itself like silk in dreams. Dreams about what it would be like to not worry about money and enjoy waking in the morning and going to work. Dreams about vacations. Dreams of laughter that do not have clouds of fears hanging over. Dreams of dignity and fulfillment and unmitigated happiness. The stuff heavens are made of
These dreams are not terrible in the moment but they sow the seeds of the storms of violent anxiety. An anxiety that debilitates and makes me want to act immediately and then is frustrated when answers to financial riddles are not found. An anxiety that makes me want to vacate the red plastic Adirondack chair because I cannot enjoy all that beauty anyhow.
There are times I am not thinking about tomorrow. And those are the very echoes of movement from the chair that sits at the right hand of God himself. Sometimes I sit in the silence and I am free. I dream without worry. I am thankful. I do not envy. Tomorrow is then left to worry about itself. Such moments are too few but they do happen enough to remind me that Jesus’ command can be obeyed. More than that, it can be experienced in all its glory and wonder.
And when it is, we taste, like the holy meal itself, a bit of all that heaven is for us.
And this is what I want more than anything else – to be free from worry about tomorrow. To be able to deal with today with all its troubles and beauty and wonder and terror. And then when worry rears its head, in conversation or in a red plastic Adirondack chair, I smile in faith, knowing that when tomorrow comes it will be full of all that is today. Actually, there is also the hope of it being better. Of miracles and answered prayers and a today full of childlike wonder. That could happen as well as our greatest fears.
When Jesus tells us to not worry, it is a command. But it is not the command of law alone. In other words, I do not think he is mad when we worry so much as sad when we do. I am not sure if it is a sin when we worry about tomorrow and not forget his words here. Or is it just the result of sin? Maybe it is both. But I cannot get over the belief that Jesus is looking out for our good here and is very long-suffering with our worries. He himself sweat drops of blood when he faced the cross. I do not think his anger is kindled when we worry about our crosses of tomorrow.
His command is the kind given to keep us alive to today. My constant worries about tomorrow steal all the joys of today for the hope of tomorrow’s.
I worry for a lot of reasons all at once. I can fix it. I can’t fix it. God cares. God does not care. My kids. My wife. I have trouble believing in the God of check engine lights. And though I pray to him, I wonder if he cares at all. Very Romans 7, I know.
My great fear is not if God can care for me and my family. It is if he will. Will he take it upon himself to care for me? That’s the question no one can really answer. When you have watched all the reserves disappear and checked the corners of the storehouse for crumbs, you no longer question if God can do something, you just pray to God he will.
It’s funny, most of the time, people tell you to not worry about tomorrow because God is already there.
So?
You mean the God who has withheld something today is there to do it tomorrow also? If you could take your crocheted sentimentalities and keep them to yourself, those of us who are actually worried how we will pay the bills tomorrow would appreciate it. Thanks.
No, Jesus does what only one mired in grace and mercy would do. He dignifies today’s suffering by telling us they are truly troubles. He calls them what they are. He bleeds on all those crocheted platitudes. He knows that every ‘today’ was once a tomorrow and every tomorrow will be a today.
But then after tomorrow there is another. And another. And the God of all our tomorrows asks us join him in a garden where he will ask for tomorrow to never happen and then with bloody sweat he will say, “thy will be done.” And hopefully we will say the same.
To all who have suffered as victims of abuse in SGM,
For a month I’ve started and stopped writing this. Started because each time I see a child, I tend to think about you. And stopped because sometimes those of us who write even fail with our words. We fail to find them and we fail to find them adequate to the situation.
I will not pretend to understand. That would be impossible. After reading the Second Amended Complaint, I realize this acutely. And it’s a strange thing. Those of us who are concerned on your behalf about what actually happened and what continues to happen, want to hurt alongside of you. But I have not been through what you have, so I know there is a limit. Strange as it is, I want to honor you by not pretending to understand.
I wouldn’t even presume to write anything like this if I had not had contact with any of you. But I have and that contact has changed me in irreversible ways.
It has helped me move forward more in care for you and so many others who have been victims of the same treatment. More care for the victims and less animosity against those who seem to not care at all. Care and concern are better fuel anyway.
And it has rattled me. Reading your stories is painful. But even having the least bit of contact has shaken me to my core. If it can become more real, it has.
Some confession is in order, too. I have my fears. I’ve had them for a while. I fear saying “too much” and angering the influential people. I fear hurting my writing “career.” I fear reprisals. I fear being seen as crazy. I fear saying something that would get in the way of justice. And I fear not being taken seriously.
For these reasons and probably others, I have written things and then hit delete just so I could have a carefree day and not add to my problems, which sometimes seem Legion.
For all this I want to apologize.
When I stopped being a pastor and started working in a bank, many people told me I would never stop being a pastor. I blew off those words like autumn’s brittle leaves. And no one knows it better than I do now. So as a pastor I have believed you and prayed for you. And now as pastor-banker I believe you. I began reading your stories two years ago and have not doubted you yet.
I cannot speak for others.
But there are many others. Most of us not very notable. Most of us are not influential and we may not be who you would have chosen to speak for you.
But we are here.
Some of you will instinctively question our motives. We will continue to stand by you anyway. Some of you have left the faith because of what those who claimed to represent it have done to you or refused to do for you. And still refuse to do for you. We will still be here. You will wonder if there is anyone left listening to prayers. We will pray for you.
You need to know that throughout the world there are men and women praying for you and thinking of you and standing with you and they are in it for the long haul. I get emails, facebook messages, tweets and hear from some personally. I assume they represent myriad more.
We are all outraged at the abuse and the silence in the wake of the abuse.
We have lain awake at night hating the silence of those who are influential. In those same hours we have been your watchmen waiting for the morning and wanting the darkness to be dealt a deadly blow.
1. My fear lately – going back about two months – has been that I have let my secure position in Christ keep me from caring whether I am listening to his teaching in a few areas. Thankfully and providentially, he has put a few things in my life to help me think through these painful realizations.
2. If I can not handle well my book selling poorly, I cannot be expected to handle well it selling well.
3. I will never again be able to be a part of a church where I cannot expect to the sit down with the pastor who preaches to us.
4. A church that thinks money will solve its problems, must then be patient with those individuals who think the same way. Only a church that does not think money is the answer can compel the person in the pew to ask for daily bread.
5. I am glad Nathan was not worried about David’s friendship.
6.Last week I began praying for the people I work with. And when I say “began” I did so as a whining child not wanting to, on a visceral level. But God has been good to me in my weakness. Work is still very painful. But it has been more pleasant and I am sure I have been more pleasant. A small echo of Paul and Silas singing in prison, maybe? Maybe.
7.If a conviction costs me nothing, it is nothing.
8.Yesterday morning, I awoke tired and frustrated. Financial worries seized me immediately. And then the fact that I have never missed a meal struck me like never before. That is a remarkable thing and can turn fear into thanksgiving.
9.A small local church that loves each other and Jesus is a thing to be reckoned with.
10. The pull of notoriety is strong. It’s muscles are decorated with veins pumping promises of being liked and being secure.
You who live in heaven Hear the prayers of those of us who live on earth
On Sunday night, my wife and I prayed that God would provide for us for the week. After thinking about Paul saying, “if we have food and clothing, we should be content” it is either the smartest prayer or the most frightening. Maybe both. I don’t know anymore.
But Monday frightened me. It went well and beyond its normal Monday-ness. After spending a significant amount of money to fix my car so I could sell it, it runs more poorly. The AC is acting up in the mini-van. And some bad news.
Do you remember when You lived down here where we all scrape To find the faith to ask for daily bread
Part of me wonders if God is sticking it us. Another part is hoping he’s helping us be content with “daily bread.” Have I done something to be punished for? Am I reaping what I’ve sown? Or is this him saying, “I want to provide for you in a way that makes it obvious I am providing for you.”
Did You ever know loneliness Did You ever know need Do You remember just how long a night can get?
All I know is, it is not easy living by faith in his provision for daily bread when surrounded by so much wealth and ease. This is not an insult to the wealthy. My heart simply reaches out for those things and grabs at them the same way Bilbo grabbed at the Ring as it hung around Frodo’s neck.
And I know you bore our sorrows And I know you feel our pain And I know it would not hurt any less Even if it could be explained
Intellectually, I can say to myself what I “know” to be true. Or at least what I would tell others if they came to me. You know, “Preach the gospel to yourself…” and all that. I would remind them of God’s love for his children. I know these things. But that story is playing on an old black and white 12 inch. The broken things are playing in high definition. I need those things to reverse at least on occasion. That would be nice.
And I know that I am only lashing out At the One who loves me most And after I figured this somehow All I really need to know…
Regardless, I find myself more hungry for hope in the Scriptures than ever. I figure that if it cannot be there, there is really no hope to be found. Not in food. Or clothing. Or fixed cars.
Is if You who live in eternity
Hear the prayers of those of us who live in time
We can’t see what’s ahead
And we can not get free of what we’ve left behind
I’m reeling from these voices that keep screaming in my ears
All the words of shame and doubt blame and regret
I can’t see how You’re leading me unless You’ve led me here
Where I’m lost enough to let myself be led
And so You’ve been here all along I guess
It’s just Your ways and You are just plain hard to get
My plan was to just post a number of reflections on the verse in 1 Timothy after meditating on it. But then I got home and started washing the car I just got repaired so I could sell it and then buy the truck I’ve been borrowing from a friend. And despair came over me because I worry how much I’ll be able to sell it for. And other financial issues came into play as the night continued.
I awoke at 3:20. Despair hung over me like a heavy blanket. And all the voices reminding me of my financial weakness kept me awake. I was reminded of how I should not talk to people about money till I really, really, really believe the things I say. And how until I get my act together, I should be quiet about what is going on in SGM.
In other words my weakness drove me to despair.
After two hours of trying to pray, another “voice” reminded of the words, “When Satan tempts me to despair…” I could not remember the rest, but it did not matter.
Really, money is all about strength and weakness. If we have it, strength. If we don’t, weakness. This is the way of American Christianity. And into the face of it the Apostle Paul looks up and tells me he is glad about his weaknesses.
I want to be.
Below are the reflections on 1 Timothy 6:8, “But if we have food and clothing, with these we will be content.”
1. I could stand to lose a little weight so food is not really an issue.
2. My main problem is I worry about tomorrow as if I will not have food and clothing sometime in the future.
3. My clothes are a little tattered, except the ones that are a little too small. See above.
4. I’ve never missed a meal (also see above) or had to go without clothing (to everyone’s great joy).
5. I’d like to be able to afford a vacation this year but I have to keep reminding myself I get to enjoy a lot of things, even if that is not one of them.
6. I have all these choices for entertainment, which is more than food and clothing, and I still want more. When I was a kid I only had 4 channels and was amazed. No cable. No internet.
7. God doesn’t seem all that interested in me being able to look down the road and not have worry because of all the money we have. I think he has something else in mind.
8. Being content with food and clothing does not mean it is wrong to have more than those things. But it does seem it is wrong to doubt God’s love and care if those are taken care of.
9. Part of the difficulty is being surrounded by those who have so much more.
10. If working in a bank has taught me anything, wealthy people are not happier people. Indeed, they are less than content.
“His heart is hard as a stone,
hard as the lower millstone.” – Job 41:24
What kind of hard heart are we witnessing in the SGM abuse scandal?
What kind of hard heart sides easily with a wealthy pastor against those who suffered at the hands of sexual abusers under his watch and then does so in the name of the One Who had no place to lay his head?
What kind of hard heart winks at a pastor who demanded an accountability of pastors and then ran from it to a church outside of his network of churches?
What kind of hard heart says we must not believe the accuser against the sexual abuser till all the evidence is put forward?
What kind of hard heart publicly says a pastor has not even been accused of wrongdoing when the truth is the very opposite for all those who are curious enough to see?
What kind of hard heart wants the statute of limitations to be in effect and not hear the evidence from 11 plaintiffs presented?
What kind of hard heart needs it to happen to them or their own children before they speak out?
What kind of hard heart says, “we will not go to the civil authorities for the sake of the abused” and then is relieved when the civil authorities dismiss a case in favor of the alleged abuser?
What kind of hard heart goes and preaches in the pulpit of the accused and seeks no audience with the accusers?
What kind of hard heart refuses to listen and then says those who would cry out for justice and help are divisive and gossips?
What kind of hard heart could read the Second Amended Complaint and not think the leader of such an organization should step out of the limelight?
What kind of heart is so hardened it would publicly insult the blogs that have given a voice to the sexually abused while publicly embracing one who is accused of conspiring to cover up and silence the abused?
Echoes and Stars 