The Road that Leads to Hope

Walter Brueggemann, in a recent sermon, says that hope cannot come unless first there is mourning. Mourning, in this world of ours, is the prerequisite, the pockmarked and tear stained path that leads us to hope.

The Biblical definition of hope is grounded in the certainty of what is to come. The hope that we have, for ourselves and for the world, is rooted in the promised future just as much as it is rooted in the experienced and historical past.

When we think of who we are, we often frame ourselves in reference to our past experiences, perhaps naming key events or situations that have had a formative influence on our development. But how often do we let the promised future be a defining factor in our lives? In Philippians, when Paul speaks of “forgetting what is behind and pressing on towards what is ahead,” he models the practice of allowing his future reality (full redemption in Christ) to infuse his here and now. He is defined not by the kingdom and accolades he left behind, but by the full lordship of Christ that is yet to come.

In speaking about hurt and suffering, Nouwen says that we must let our own personal experience of pain transcend the individual and unique experiences that gave birth to it. Our pain is not to be relegated to the realm of particulars, lest we play mind games with “if only’s”, but eventually generalized and removed from specifics so that we are better able to empathize in the suffering of others. For as long as we bury our hearts in the specifics of a situation, our mourning is of limited fruitfulness to those we are called to minister to. But when we view our own cups as sharing in the greater suffering of those around us, that same hope we obtain from being sojourners on the road of mourning can then also reverberate with the mourning experienced by the world. The same staff that comforts us in our troubles will also then comfort others. And as we learn to hope in what is not yet here, so too will we be agents in bringing hope to a creation groaning in the pains of childbirth for its consummation.

This is the act of turning our eyes outwards to a hurting world even when we ourselves are licking our wounds. As the world lies broken, so we mourn as if for ourselves. As we look forward to the hope of transformation, restoration and renewal, so we take our hope and lavish it as freely to the world as love was lavished freely upon us.

And so we mourn, knowing that we mourn not only for ourselves, but for those who have much more reason to weep. And as we slowly traverse the steep paths of mourning, we somehow find ourselves walking next to others, with faith, afraid but undaunted, towards a hope that reveals itself just enough say that when all is said and done, these three remain: Faith, Hope, and Love.

I Miss the Wheaton Bookstore

Figures.

I had to go to a non-Christian bookstore to pick up the book I wanted. NT Wright was nowhere to be found in my local Christian bookstore. Their paltry theology section had titles such as "Why I'm a Baptist" and looked anemic next to the Christian romance and apocalyptic-themed fiction. On the other hand, I know where to go if I ever want to plaster my walls with puppies, inspirational Kinkade calendars, preview Avalon CDs, or eat Testa-mints (for those who want to preach the Gospel but have bad breath).

I don't know if I should laugh or cry.

$120,000 and 4 Years Later...

The curse of introspection and self-awareness is that the self becomes that which consumes the entire field of vision. There are certainly times where the ability for macro focus is helpful. But the thing with macro is that foreground detail comes at the cost of background clarity. This is problematic if we believe that we are not the end all be all to life. Indeed, this is problematic as Christians, since Christ has come, among other things, to take the center of the universe off ourselves and place it back on God. We are no longer singular amoebas, amorphous in purpose and identity, but grafted into something bigger than ourselves, which includes everything around us that Christ desires to redeem and heal, ironically, through near-sighted closed-minded broken people like ourselves.

It is not that we lose our individuality, nor that God no longer cares about our struggles. On the contrary, we are affirmed that He indeed knows every hair on our head and has the best for us. However, our lives, identity, growth, and purposes are now fed, nourished, and tied with this new Kingdom we are adopted into. As children of God, the common theme that threads itself through every decision and action is how our lives are in line with what the Father is doing with redemption, both in and around us.

I have long neglected, with a few exceptions, fostering a sensitivity and awareness to the way the Spirit moves outside of myself. If I were to paint my current understanding of God, I would have myself in the middle squeezing most everything else off the canvas. This hardly makes sense, given that His work in my life is not in isolation from His work in the world. My purpose and direction cannot be found outside of learning to first see Him, and to secondly see the world around me as He sees it, both of which take my eyes off myself.

Speaking of worship and the other disciplines that draw us to the heart of God, Mark Labberton in “The Dangerous Act of Worship” says, “This means living a vision of life in which we are not at the center. God is. It means turning away from a vision in which we and our issues are the primary focus of the day. God is. In a life of faithful worship, our life is not about us. It’s about God.”

The new paradigm for me is actually living in a way that reflects the reality of losing my life to actually gain it. In a time where we are all scrambling around trying to figure out why we spent $120,000 over 4 years, it would do us well to understand that we cannot find its course by looking for it. In the field of psychology built upon analyzing behavior, determining problems and providing solutions, it is sometimes difficult to remember that our lives are more than what we can plan or fix. Rather, we can only find it by seeking the heart of God, having our passions resonate with what He cares about, and losing ourselves in the process, trusting that His love and promises for our wellbeing are true. Seek first His kingdom and His heart, and I have a hunch that the healing, growth, love and provision He knows we need will be given to us as well, along with immeasurably more than we can ask for or imagine.

Perhaps our futures and lives fall under that strange category of phenomena that cannot be found by looking for it, but will be given to us in fullness and abundance if we learn to seek something else. What is left to be done is living the process and disciplines that bring us to a place where our eyes can be pried open, where we can be roused from our complacent sleep and our dreams can be bigger than ourselves. The disciplines are merely tools that bring us into the throne room of the living God. It is in meeting the living Christ that our faces are also transformed to shine with glory, and our hearts enlarged and aligned with His.

This is the goal as much as it is the process for the rest of our lives, as we learn to live the ways in which the Spirit blows.

Indeed, everything will be alright, if He becomes our vision.

Thinking of ya’ll.

Thanks CBN, for your deep Christian insight.

Speaking on the recent scuffling between Dobson and Obama, CBN's (Christian Broadcasting Network) Senior Correspondent David Brody says, "There is frustration in conservative Evangelical circles that the traditional bedrock biblical issues of abortion and marriage are starting to play second fiddle to new issues like climate change, genocide, poverty, etc."

Wow. As if creation care, genocide, and poverty weren't bedrock biblical issues as well? Really?? Are we reading the same Bible? That's news to me.

Matthew 6

On my trip to Mongolia, one of the focuses for the students was “knowing what’s true, then acting on it.” On the high ropes course, we told them that the harness and safety rope were strong, and that they could trust them. I told a student that at the end of the day, sometimes we just have to make a decision to believe, because that’s what faith is.

In my narrow ways of thinking, I always try to figure out what percentage of an issue can be affected by a given factor. In this case, how much of our lives can simply be traced back to decisions we make? Can we, in fact, simply decide to move forward and count it as done?

I wish difficulties were simply speed bumps in the road; gather enough inertia to make a decision, then clench our teeth, close our eyes, yell at the top of our lungs and lunge forward before we change our minds, something like skydiving. But as if the willingness to make the decision itself isn’t difficult enough, one discovers that there is no free fall after the speed bump, but rather just the first in a series of obstacles on an uphill climb. When we lose the strength to move forward, the only direction to go is down, hitting every rock along the way.

“Simply” make a decision. Make a choice. Perform the action. The sentiments and feelings will follow the actions. Be like Joshua and Caleb; step into the river before it parts, and miracles of old will be performed. But what happens when the water simply turns our boots into sinking boats and the torrents continue as they always have? What happens when instead of parting, the waters sweep our feet from under us and mock us for thinking that a simple decision could stop the current that carved canyons from granite?

As an aspiring psychologist, I believe in self-fulfilling prophecies and the power of decisions and concepts like fictional finalism. As a Christian, perseverance trumps the culture of instant fixes. But in the end, I must recognize that the will of God trumps all, no matter what virtues I try to live. It’s not the first time I’ve tried to fashion my own deliverance with dismal results. When do our good ideas, insights and self-awareness turn into things that should be considered “shit” (that’s the Greek) compared to what the Lord intends to do?… a Lord that doesn’t always keep us on dry ground along our own trajectories but uses raging torrents to carry us places we could have never imagined.

I want to learn how to love the Lord and to seek the Kingdom, Matthew 6 style. I thought that other distractions needed to be weeded out before there was space to do so, as if I only had a certain amount of emotional and mental capacity, and that the sum expended energy was limited. That may or may not be true, but it seems that we are called to love and seek the Lord in spite of and in combination with everything else that demands our strength. There will forever be suffering, busy-ness, and needs. For as long as I have warmth in my veins, brokenness will masquerade as red blood cells. Perhaps it is in the midst of it or even through it, and not the removal thereof, that I must learn to love Him with all my heart, all my mind, and all my strength.

Faithfulness is not a virtue if it turns you into a dog.

1/Midas

What we are called to, I don’t fit in.
My dreams have cataracts,
And deflated noise
Reverberates with far too much meaning.
I cheapen all that I touch.

There is a Kingdom closer than the hands in front of my face
And I can almost smell the grace it’s built upon
But my eyes, my eyes,
Cedar forests grow therein
And who needs demons when I have thoughts?

There has got to be more than hunches
Because premonitions have no grip.
Glimpses last as long as my eyes remain closed.
I’m here, but not yet.
You’re here, but not yet.
It’s here, but not yet.
What am I to think,
For surely,
Someone must be to blame for what is not.

[I Can't Keep] Five Paces Ahead of My Thoughts

Out of the overflow of one’s heart the mouth speaks,
which is why this verse finds itself empty.

Sleeves are the best places to wear broken things,
but maybe God can’t see through hotel room ceilings.

Matthew 26

The irony of Matthew 26 slapped me in the face. Here were the Pharisees, people who had dedicated their lives to serving and worshipping the God of Israel, packed into the Sanhedrin with a bunch of rabble-rousers making a mockery of justice by trying to accuse Jesus. These people, who knew the stories of their fathers and waited anxiously for their Deliverer struck and spat at Him when He finally arrived. Here was their God they had been anxiously awaiting. Instead of embracing Him, they accused their own God of blasphemy because He did not conform to their expectations.

I wonder how blind we are sometimes. We spend our time in the temple saying we want to see God and that we want Him to move, when so often, He is right in front of us, doing things His way, on His own terms. It is we who are unwilling to see Him as He is. Are we really that different from the Pharisees?