iMonk Classic: Jesus, Faith, and a Universe of Fear

Cartoon by Charles Addams

Classic iMonk Post
by Michael Spencer
 From September 2009

When I started studying Mark’s Gospel many years ago, I learned that, in Mark, faith is not contrasted with unbelief, but with fear.

The command to “not be afraid” was common in Mark. The disciples are constantly choosing between faith and fear as they journey with Jesus. It is fear, not unbelief, that cripples the community of Jesus-followers.

I don’t believe Christianity is a mind-game where we force ourselves to think happy thoughts. Far from it, I believe Christianity allows- even insists on- a full embrace of the difficulties, obstacles and deadly realities of life.

What does concern me, however, is the response of disciples to the media universe we live in, a media universe that uses fear in ways that are crippling to the mission of Jesus and detrimental to the work of the Holy Spirit.

1. I am concerned that many Christians do not understand the media’s financial stake in creating an atmosphere of crisis about as many stories as possible. They will do anything to keep you watching and reading.

2. I am concerned that many Christians do not understand the manipulation that a diet of fear-mongering makes possible. The media seeks influence and audience. A constant crisis creates that atmosphere.

3. Without in any way taking a skeptical attitude toward science, I have to wonder how many Christians realize media science reporting on many of the popular television and internet venues is exaggerated and quite “unscientific?” Loch Ness this hour, asteroids the next, swine flu at 6, followed by a special on alien DNA.

4. I am concerned that the multiplication of “fear factors” has powerful impact on some Christians, to the point of challenging fundamental aspects of how we as Christians face the painful, unpredictable and evil aspects of existence.

Am I alone in this? Is anyone else feeling that the thermostat of corporate fear is being turned up by media and its echo chamber for all the usual reasons- profit, influence, audience addiction, government empowerment- and many Christians are becoming the victims of an atmosphere not unlike what we saw at Y2K?

Anyone else see Christians becoming easy fodder for this, and failing to relate what they hear to the sovereignty of God, a moderate skepticism of media and the truths of the faith we live by in scripture?

When I heard a guy making motions about the Mayan calendar and 2012 at this year’s SBC, I thought….we’re over a line here. Now I’m seeing many more evidences of the same thing and its getting worse. Those of us who don’t have televisions are at risk for being “unbelievers.”

Is it just me?

Saturday Ramblings 9.1.12

Hut-Hut! It’s time for football, fellow iMonks. We are fielding a team from the iMonastery for the first time this year, captained by Chaplain “Red Grange” Mike as our quarterback. But we’re still looking for a nickname. Any suggestions? The Fighting Spencers? The Lucky Luthers? Why not the Mighty Ramblers? As you ponder this great question, strap on your helmet and shoulder pads and get ready to ramble.

Looking for something to do this weekend (when not watching football, of course)? Why not take in a corn maze honoring the (soon-to-be world champion) Cincinnati Reds? My cousins have an apple orchard and farm in Lebanon, Ohio, and each year Bill Irons cuts a maze into 12 acres of corn. You can then pay some money to go walk through it. It’s an Ohio thing. And they really are my cousins. And it really is cool.

This week a 100-year-old man injured 11 elementary school kids when he drove up on a sidewalk in Los Angeles. I have often voiced my opinion that after a certain age, driving privileges should be restricted or revoked. (And after riding with some older family members lately, I’m thinking that age should be younger still.) Perhaps the same rule should be applied to speaking. Franciscan priest and EWTN star Father Benedict Groeschel made some very thoughtless remarks this week, saying sometimes the children sexual abused by priests are the ones at fault. He and his order have since apologized for these remarks, but damage done.

Meanwhile, a 24-year-old driver, who really should know better, learned that flipping off pedestrians could bring about another kind of flip. And what did he have against Mormon missionaries? One may be our next president, if Clint Eastwood has anything to say about it.

Father James Martin suggests an even better convention speaker.

Continue reading “Saturday Ramblings 9.1.12”

Lies, Damn Lies, and …

To paraphrase Mark Twain, “There are lies, there are damn lies, and there is the American political process.”

Jesus said, “Let your yes mean yes, and your no mean no. Anything more than this comes from the evil one” (Matt. 5:37). How can anyone claiming to follow his teachings possibly support the American political process?

I am convinced, and will remain so until proven otherwise, that there is not a single politician who makes any effort whatsoever to speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

Help, Lord, because the godly are all gone;
the faithful have completely disappeared
from the human race!
Everyone tells lies to everyone else;
they talk with slick speech and divided hearts.
Let the Lord cut off all slick-talking lips
and every tongue that brags and brags,
that says, “We’re unbeatable with our tongues!
Who could get the best of us with lips like ours?”

– Psalm 12:1-4 (CEB)

Now, lest anyone reprove me for sinking into cynicism, let me tell you that this realization actually sets me free. There’s no more pretending, no more getting my hopes up that someday, somehow, someone will get it right.

If I’m going to “take a stand” as a Christian with regard to political matters, especially on the national level in an election year like this, here is what my stand will be: I do not believe any of the the candidates. Period. 

Truth-telling does not exist in the American political process. Oh, some politicians may represent certain facts a little more accurately than others, but there is not one who tells the truth. There is not one who actually cares enough to effectively educate the public on what really goes on in Washington, how things work, and what the influences are that affect decisions.

Convention weeks are the worst. It’s all hype and bluster, half-truths and downright misrepresentations of the opponent. It’s all about putting oneself in the best light, manipulating feelings, stirring up patriotic impulses, and using propaganda and clever speeches to create brand loyalty. It’s the American advertising game writ large, and damn the truth, we will sell our product.

Continue reading “Lies, Damn Lies, and …”

The Alpha and Omega Principle

Reading Romans (4)
The Alpha and Omega Principle

Welcome one another, therefore, as the Messiah has welcomed you, to God’s glory. Let me tell you why: the Messiah became a servant of the circumcised people in order to demonstrate the truthfulness of God — that is, to confirm the promises to the patriarchs, and to bring the nations to praise God for his mercy.

– Romans 15:7-9, The Kingdom New Testament

* * *

When reading the NT epistles, beginnings and endings are significant, more important than many of us realize.

Letters in the days of the apostles followed a simple form: (1) Opening, (2) Body, (3) Closing. While it is natural to want to move quickly to the body of a letter to consider the main content of the correspondence, in biblical letters the openings and closings often contain concise summaries of the main themes and points the letter writer wants to highlight.

In this series on reading Romans, we have already looked at some key texts in the beginning of Paul’s epistle:

  • Our post on Romans 1:1-7 showed how the epistle begins with a summary of the Christian Gospel.
  • Our post on Romans 1:11-12 encouraged us to remember that Romans is a letter designed to address actual local situations in Rome and not just a general theological treatise.
  • Our post on Romans 1:16-17 discussed a key term — “the righteousness of God” — showing how traditional Reformation interpretations brought out some important truths but didn’t fully catch Paul’s original meaning.

The “Opening” to Romans is obviously more than, “Hi friends, this is Paul. How are you? I’m fine.” The apostle has transformed this element of the common letter form into an important introduction to and summary of the message he will present in this profound epistle. Romans is Paul’s “gospel,” showing how God has been “righteous” (faithful and true) in bringing Jews and Gentiles together in Christ on the basis of faith. Romans is not merely a soterian letter, designed to show me as an individual “how to be saved and go to heaven.” It is a theodicy, an articulation and defense of God’s ways, in which Paul shows how the Messianic Kingdom promised to Israel has become a universal Kingdom welcoming people from all nations.

Before we move on to reading the “Body” of the letter and exploring Paul’s arguments, let’s see how he ended the letter and learn what the “Opening” and “Closing” of this epistle teach us about his purposes in writing to his friends in Rome.

Continue reading “The Alpha and Omega Principle”

Only In Silence, The Word

There are many proverbs and sayings we’ve all heard:

“Speech is silver, silence is golden.”

“Better to say nothing and be thought a fool, than to open your mouth and remove all doubt.”

“Empty vessels make the most sound.”

“Still waters run deep.”

And of course, the book of Proverbs in the Bible has much advice about the conduct of the fool and the wise man when it comes to speech and silence.

I have always remembered, from the time I first read it, the little verse that starts off Ursula LeGuin’s children’s book, A Wizard of Earthsea:

Only in silence the word,

Only in dark the light,

Only in dying life:

Bright the hawk’s flight

On the empty sky.

—The Creation of Éa

Only in silence, the word.  Easy enough to figure that one out, right?  We can’t hear if we’re always talking.  The curse of division that was the curse of the confusion of tongues, that befell the builders of Babel – and “Babel” and “babble” are close enough.  The Lord spoke to Elijah not in the hurricane or the earthquake or the fire, but in a still, small voice afterwards (and don’t we all wish that those who see signs and portents in earthquakes and hurricanes would remember this?).  Job makes his complaint and silences his friends, but when God finally speaks to him, Job promises to keep silence and complain no more.  The Epistle of James warns of the dangers of the unbridled tongue.  So obviously, silence is better than speech, yes?

Continue reading “Only In Silence, The Word”

Death is Preferable

“You cannot see My face, for no man can see Me and live!”

-Exodus 33:20

I’m addicted to safety. Even if I wasn’t born that way, I learned to crave it growing up. My adults were broken, so by age eight I was busy trying to make everything feel safe for my younger siblings and me. It was also around then I first watched The Ten Commandments and was shaken with fear. By 12, I was reading my Bible trying to understand a scary God. At 14, I told Christ I trusted him with my life. Now, I’m … well, I’m much older and just learning what I would like to have learned long ago. Dying is not something to be avoided. In fact, it’s preferable.

Through the years, whenever I’ve read about or pondered Moses on the mountain asking God for a glimpse of his glory, the thing that no man could see and live, I still imagine Charleton Heston clinging to some rocks, squinting against the thunder and lightning and hurricane force winds of God’s holy presence. What was Moses thinking? Why would he want to get that close to something that, but for the protection of a rocky cleft, would kill him?

We humans have a strong survival instinct and despite my small frame and passive personality, mine is at least as acute and maybe more stubborn than most. Looking back, a huge chunk of my life has been focused upon avoiding death and other unpleasant things, except for the couple of times I was so depressed I didn’t care. The truth is, much of what we all do is in the effort to distance ourselves from death. We work so we can afford to eat, have a safe place to sleep and buy that gym membership … so we can live. We learn not to run with scissors, dive into shallows, put fingers into electrical outlets or jump out of airplanes. (Except for my friend Kim, for whom parachuting has suddenly become a high priority.)

If we are honest, even our pursuit of God is often begun with the desire to avoid spiritual and eternal death. It’s exactly the reason I first showed up asking questions, something along the line of the rich young ruler’s inquiry, “What shall I do to inherit eternal life?” I prayed the sinner’s prayer and followed up for safe keeping by bringing him a few acts of service and some of my treasures. Either he let me go on for a while or I was just too blind to see, but he doesn’t want my token offerings. He wants everything … my life, my heart, my love. And he wants yours too. As with the rich young ruler, he wants us to let go of our lives and come with him. As I said, I’m stubborn so I’ve walked away sad an embarrassing number of times.

Continue reading “Death is Preferable”

Get Lost!

Popular religion focuses so hard on spiritual success that most of us do not know the first thing about the spiritual fruits of failure. When we fall ill, lose our jobs, wreck our marriages, or alienate our children, most of us are left alone to pick up the pieces. Even those of us who are ministered to by brave friends can find it hard to shake the shame of getting lost in our lives. And yet if someone asked us to pinpoint the times in our lives that changed us for the better, a lot of those times would be wilderness times.

When the safety net has split, when the resources are gone, when the way ahead is not clear, the sudden exposure can be both frightening and revealing. We spend so much of our time protecting ourselves from this exposure that a weird kind of relief can result when we fail. To lie flat on the ground with the breath knocked out of you is to find a solid resting place. This is as low as you can go. You told yourself you would die if it ever came to this, but here you are. You cannot help yourself and yet you live.

– Barbara Brown Taylor, An Altar in the World: A Geography of Faith

* * *

Don’t take this the wrong way, but, “Get lost!” 

Barbara Brown Taylor suggests it can be an important spiritual practice. Come to think of it, there is some precedent in the Bible for this.

Abram, leave your home, your country, and your extended family. Come with me.

“Where are we going, Lord?”  

Never mind. I’ll show you.

* * *

Moses, you really blew it when you attacked that soldier, but I forgive you. Tell you what, I have a plan — go live in the desert of Midian for, oh let’s say forty years. Things should blow over by then.

“Wow. With all due respect, that seems a little extreme, Lord. What’s a city boy from the palace like me going to do out there?”

I’m sure you’ll find something. You could learn a trade, you know, like shepherding a flock.

[Eighty years later, as the Exodus was about to occur…]

Nice job, Moses. Now, once you leave Egypt, I want you to guide all these people to Mt. Sinai.

“But Lord, we’ll have to go through the wilderness, won’t we? How am I going to find food and water for all these people out there?” 

It’s OK. Let’s just make the journey and see what happens.

* * *

Naomi, I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you and Elimelech and the boys pick up and move to Moab?

“Leave Bethlehem? Are you sure that’s a good idea? I’d feel lost among all those foreigners.”

Oh, you never know. It might just turn out to be an adventure. And when you least expect it, you might find a friend.

Continue reading “Get Lost!”

Another Look: George, Mildred, and the Thin Places

Photo by M. Burgoyne, http://www.thinplace.net

Note from CM: I wrote this story and posted it almost a year ago. Yesterday, we buried George next to Mildred. While I was in Chicago over the weekend, he had an accident, went into the hospital, was admitted to hospice, and died.

At the grave site today, I listened as his family told stories, laughed and cried together. The military honor guard thanked George for his service to our country and saluted him with rifle and bugle sounds. Before we committed his body to the ground and ourselves into God’s care, I told his family two things in the light of not only losing a beloved family member, but also witnessing the passing of a generation.

First, I referred to a passage I often use in these settings: Genesis 25:11 — “After the death of Abraham God blessed his son Isaac.” Though Isaac and his family had lost both Sarah and Abraham, God promised to continue to be with them. His blessing does not stop with the passing of a generation. I encouraged them to trust God and follow the good examples of those who had shown them the way of faith.

Second, I reminded them of this piece, which I had given them to read last year. I told the story again, and then encouraged them to remember that our loved ones are not far from us. George and Mildred are separated from this natural world by only a thin veil, dwelling in God’s presence, close by. We await the day when the veil is finally torn and earth and heaven are one in a new creation.

* * *

George, Mildred, and the Thin Places
from September 2011

The three of us sat together and talked, as we had many times before — the old WWII vet, his daughter, his son, and me their pastor. They had designated me such, ever since I had been hospice chaplain for his wife and their mother Mildred, a lovely woman with Alzheimer’s disease. Upon occasion, when I visited, she would sing and “dance,” her body swaying to a melody in her mind the rest of us could not hear.

Her husband George, wheelchair bound, has had health problems of his own. He also has the most positive, sunny spirit of anyone I’ve met, despite having faced challenges I could not imagine. After two solid years of war zone action, hopping from island to island in the Pacific in WWII, seeing the majority of his companions killed, witnessing untold horrors, he came home to Mildred a broken man. It took him three years to stop having vivid nightmares, to be able to think, to be able to plan their future. With faith and sheer force of will he went into business for himself and became successful. They raised a family and experienced the post-war prosperity of middle America.

At one point, his business burned down. George turned to the insurance company, who called the fire suspicious and never did pay off. Somehow, they survived, rebuilt their lives, and went on. They had each other, loving children, a spirit of optimism, and Mildred’s music. She played the organ in church, and at home around the house was always singing. At times they had little more than that music to carry them through.

When they grew older and more frail, it became clear that Mildred had dementia. The songs in her mind were the only sounds that made sense. George was heartbroken. The two of them had been through so much together, and now she seemed far away. He could touch her, see her, talk to her, but Mildred was somewhere else. And so it it was George in his chair and Mildred swaying back and forth, a caregiver insuring her safety and supporting both of them in their final season of life together.

Continue reading “Another Look: George, Mildred, and the Thin Places”

Busyness as Moral Laziness

The Desert Fathers (a protest movement in the early church) spoke of busyness as “moral laziness.” Busyness can also be an addictive drug, which is why its victims are increasingly referred to as “workaholics.” Busyness acts to repress our inner fears and perpetual anxieties, as we scramble to achieve an enviable image to display to others. We become “outward” people, obsessed with how we appear, rather than “inward” people, reflecting on the meaning of our lives.

Busyness also seems to be a determination not to “miss out on life.” Behind much of the rat-race of modern life is the unexamined assumption that what I do determines who I am. In this way, we define ourselves by what we do, rather than by any quality of what we are inside. It is typical in a party for one stranger to approach another with the question, “What do you do?” Perhaps we wouldn’t have a clue how to reply to the deeper question, “Who are you?”

– James Houston, The Transforming Friendship: A Guide to Prayer

* * *

I can hear the protest now, “Lazy? What do you mean, lazy? Nonsense! I work longer and harder than most people I know. I’m always busy doing something. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I weren’t working or involved in some activity!”

Sorry, I insist: Busyness is moral laziness.

Busyness is evidence that I truly “don’t know what to do with myself.” So I never slow down long enough to face the nagging fear within.

I’m using the word in a particular way. A person can be active, productive, and diligent and still not be busy. John Wesley, one of the hardest and most prolific workers the world has ever known, dreaded busyness. He is reported to have said, “Busyness is not of the devil; busyness is the devil.”

Busyness doesn’t just mean I work, it means I have to be doing something. I’m compelled to do so, and I can’t (won’t) be interrupted from my agenda. And what is my agenda based on? When I practice a little self-reflection, a host of ugly little motives come crawling out from under the rock — guilt, the need to win approval, fear of insignificance, desire to gain a reputation, or a hunger to silence other voices that haunt me when life gets quiet.

It is moral laziness because, for the busy person, tending a bunch of irons in the fire can be the easier path. I would rather expend energy on some task I can handle than engage in the harder work of cultivating relationships or putting up with someone who is needy or squandering time on something that has no foreseeable payoff. Or listening to God.

Busyness can be a matter of presumption and pride. If I don’t do it, it won’t get done. I can’t trust others. I see it as a waste of valuable time and resources to partner with them and have to deal with their mistakes when I could get it done so much faster and more efficiently. It’s not only my agenda, it’s my timetable, and my standards that rule. I’m in charge.

The busy person never prays the words of Psalm 131:

Lord, my heart isn’t proud;
my eyes aren’t conceited.
I don’t get involved with things too great or wonderful for me.
No. But I have calmed and quieted myself
like a weaned child on its mother;
I’m like the weaned child on me.
Israel, wait for the Lord—
from now until forever from now! (CEB)

In his book on prayer, James Houston reminds us — the busy ones — that Sunday comes before Monday. Before work comes rest. Before I do what I do, I rest in what God has done and is doing. Knowing he is seated on his throne, ruling the universe and working in every corner of life, I confess that the work I do only finds lasting meaning when it fits in with what he is already doing. I don’t initiate anything. My agenda is always secondary to his. I learn to wait on his timetable. I adjust my standards so that they match his. He’s in charge.

And when I finally acknowledge the puny contribution all my busyness makes, when I recognize the moral laziness that keeps me from hearing and obeying God, when it becomes clear that I am proud and want to be in control and get the credit, I come to Jesus and ask him to do his greatest work….

Kyrie eleison. 

Come to the Quiet

Yet in our busy, noisy, overstimulating mission field of the world, it is one of the church’s high callings to give the gift of silence, of greater spaciousness to make room for contemplative encounters with the means of grace, so that the Spirit may most freely do the works of salvation to form us in faith.

– Jonathan Linman, Holy Conversation

* * *

The world and our lives are noisy and overstimulating — yes, that is clear. We know this. We feel this.

What gift does the church have to give to such a world, to such lives?

It seems that, for many churches, the gifts they think they must offer entail more noise, more stimulation, more activity, perhaps even more stress.

Why do we do this?

Are there truly sound reasons for imagining that the best ways of introducing people to Jesus must involve competing with our culture’s busyness, frenetic pace, pumped-up volume, and manic multitasking?

What, instead, if our invitation was, “Come to the quiet”?

I remember a lesson a wise coach once taught me about getting the attention of a group of noisy, rambunctious kids. One’s natural instinct is to raise your voice higher and higher, to try to outdo them in volume, to yell and scream and demand that they shut up and listen. Instead, this man learned that a whisper usually did the trick better. He would make a motion to let his players know he had something to say, and then he would start addressing them in a low, calm voice. One by one, they would quiet down and shush each other so that they could hear what he was trying to tell them.

What if we did that instead?

What if the Lord is not in the earthquake, wind, or fire? What if: “After the fire, there was a sound. Thin. Quiet.” (1Kings 19:12, CEB)? What if moments of stillness are the settings that indicate God is present, ready to to converse with us?

Jesus bids us follow him, walk with him. At a walking pace. With a Friend. Having conversation. Aware of our surroundings. Attentive. Quiet. Personal. Peaceful.

What if our invitation to the world was the same?

“Come, walk with us as we walk with Jesus.”

“Come, sit with us at his feet as we listen and learn and contemplate his words.”

“Come, join us at the table for simple food and friendly conversation, for laughter and the pleasure of good company; unrushed, unforced.”

“Come into the sanctuary and spend time alone with God any time you like. Breathe. Light a candle. Watch the light dance and play as it shines through the stained glass. Smell the wood and fabric, saturated with incense. Imagine the saints and angels watching over you. Open a Bible, a hymnal, a prayer book. Listen. Listen. Speak if you must, but try to listen.”

“Come, slow down with us.”

“Come, let’s find the path of peace together.”

“Come, let us learn to do whatever work God calls us to do from hearts that are quiet, from spirits at rest in Jesus.”

“Come to the quiet.”

Imagine. What if…?

Shh.