"in weakness"

My friend Jason reminded me of a series of journal entries from years ago, and I've been rereading them. This part seemed especially important for me to remember today:


Jesus’ laying down his life was the perfect act of love. Yet it was not approved or appreciated by either his friends or his enemies. How could love be so misunderstood?

Those who condemned Jesus didn’t appreciate what he was offering, because he didn’t support their management of society. He strongly challenged it. So they saw his death, not as an act of love, but as what he deserved as a subversive trouble-maker. They saw him as a criminal, executed with two other criminals. But Jesus’ followers also didn’t understand his “laying down his life” as an act of love. They could understand why he would preach and heal and feed people, and appreciated his challenging the problems in their society. But they couldn’t see why he would go to Jerusalem and accept execution without resisting, and they tried to prevent it. They could only see his death as a tragic failure. Neither friends or enemies could see the value in Jesus’ perfect act of love.

This illustrates well the difference between God’s purposes and ours. We are intent on imposing our own will, either to keep things as they are or to change things. Some try to preserve and protect what is important to them, such as possessions, traditions, social structure, etc. But at the same time, there are others who do not like how things are. So they try to change the property distribution or the social traditions and structures. What they all have in common is the need for power to impose their will. Those who are in power seek to maintain it, and those who are not in power seek to gain more of it—more wealth and more political influence.

This pursuit of power makes sense if our purpose is to impose our own will, to shape the world as we think it ought to be. But if our true good is not the exercise of our own will, but the surrender of our own will—faith—then the pursuit of power is not helpful. Because it is not strength that helps us trust God, but weakness.

And this is exactly what I see in Jesus’ way of life. Not the pursuit of power, but intentionally becoming and staying weak. A continual “laying down his life.” Instead of seeking human power like everyone else, Jesus embraces economic and political weakness and preaches it to others. This is seen as subversive by those in power, and as a failure by those who seek power. Yet it is exactly right for helping people towards God through faith. And revealing God's powerful love.

As Jesus said to Paul: “My power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Cor 12.9)

"hear my cry"

This morning I thought I should memorize my old favorite, "Precious Lord, take my hand," to use as a lullaby:

Precious Lord, take my hand
Lead me on, let me stand
I'm tired, I am weak, I am worn
Through the storm,
Through the night,
Lead me on to the light

Take my hand, precious Lord, lead me home

When my way grows drear,
Precious Lord linger near
When my hope is almost gone
Hear my cry,
Hear my call,
Hold my hand lest I fall

Take my hand, precious Lord, lead me home

When the darkness appears
And the night draws near
And the day is past and gone
At the river I stand
Guide my feet,
Hold my hand

Take my hand, precious Lord, lead me home

And maybe I could learn to sing it like B.B. King...

not "together we are strong," but "God is strong"

I got back in touch with a friend recently, and was reminded of our first encounter, in an internet discussion. Here's one of my pieces of that conversation:

It's not just an "absence" of the use of human power that I see in Jesus, but an avoidance. He avoided the attempts to make him king. He avoided wealth. And it seems he could have led a (violent or nonviolent) political uprising, since he had enough popularity at some points (though it seems most of those crowds did not understand Jesus' true purpose and would later abandon him). The Jewish leaders feared this, I believe. But Jesus did not do this, he squandered that opportunity, he taught hard things and lost followers (see Jn 6), and instead of using the crowds to achieve a political victory he let himself be arrested without resisting or threatening (like "if you kill me, my followers will rise up and..."). The fact that people in every society use these various forms of human power, and though Jesus could have used them he chose not to, stands out to me. I ask why avoid these? And I see that they offered nothing for his purposes and they also lead to the temptations of pride, the corruption of power, always and everywhere. Instead, Jesus stays poor and weak, avoiding those temptations of human power and relying only on God's power, which builds our faith and points others to God and lets God's power work most perfectly. As Jesus revealed to Paul, "My power is made perfect in weakness."

And we should be the same way as his followers. I'm always leery of the "Jesus had a very specific mission" argument. Which sets Jesus apart from us as unique and not necessarily to be imitated. Jesus told us to follow his example, even the cross part: "take up your cross and follow me." So I think we should avoid putting him in some isolated category. Jesus' mission now, in us, is the same as when he walked the earth. And our methods should be the same as well.

I have a feeling we might have a slightly different opinion about how much things have actually changed in the political realm since Jesus' time. Noam Chomsky's Manufacturing Consent was enlightening to me in its description of how those in power can control the public in modern democratic societies. It seems to me that new "rights" have been allowed in about the same measure that new, more sophisticated forms of political control have been developed. Take the example of public protests. In American society, most all political leaders say they approve of the right to protest, but then they also have well-developed ways of controlling those protests, specific areas designated for them, and ways of "spinning" them to minimize their impact. Rulers in the middle east have not developed these political methods of handling mass protests, so they fear them more and handle them badly. In modern democratic states, violent repression is usually not needed for political control (so the negative political impact of the violence is avoided) since there are other nonviolent ways of controlling the populace. Even allowing a democratic vote is beneficial for those in power if they have ways to make sure they can win and stay in power (and look who does always win, those with the money and political party backing to work the system). Then when they win they can say to the people, "You chose me. Even if you didn't vote for me, you approved and supported the system that handed me this power." (For more thoughts related to this, go here: "modern forms of persecution")

I think the basics of economic and political power are the same throughout history, though the specific forms of that power vary. But it's always recognizable. Economic and political power in every age is the power of Babel, the power of people working together (or uniting their resources), the power that is rallied with the cry "Unite! Together we are strong!" And from the time of Babel, this has always been in opposition to God. It glorifies humanity, not God. It encourages trust in the power of united human beings, not God. And thus it is in opposition to Jesus' purposes, which was to encourage obedience to God, love of God, faith in God. This is also why I see Jesus avoiding human power and relying on the power of God, the power that works in miraculous ways through people who are themselves poor, weak, often uneducated and unorganized (except perhaps by God's one Spirit). Paul points to this when he writes things like "we have this treasure in earthen vessels, to show that the transcendent power belongs to God and not to us." And:

The foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men. For consider your call, brethren; not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth; but God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise, God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong, God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God.

The message of Jesus' words and actions was not "together we are strong" but "God is strong. You can trust God completely. You can be like a child, free and fearless under the care of your loving Parent." Just like Jesus was.

"where she may lay her young"

There's a wedding here today, which reminds me a lot of our wedding here a little over six years ago. Again trying to guess if it'll rain or not. Here's the reading Heather and I did together at our wedding, I still really like it, a combination of verses from Psalms 34 and 84:

I will bless the Lord at all times; his praise will continually be in my mouth.
My soul makes its boast in the Lord; let the humble hear and be glad.

The sparrow has found a home,
and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young—
a place near your altar, O Lord Almighty, my King and my God.
Blessed are those who dwell in your house; they are ever praising you.

O magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together.
I sought the Lord, and he answered me, and delivered me from all my fears.
Look to him, and be radiant; so your faces shall never be ashamed.

This poor man cried, and the Lord heard him, and saved him out of all his troubles. The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear him, and delivers them.

O taste and see that the Lord is good; happy are those who take refuge in him.

Blessed are those whose strength is in you,
who have set their hearts on pilgrimage.
As they pass through the Valley of Baca,
they make it a place of springs; the autumn rains also cover it with pools.
They go from strength to strength, till each appears before God in Zion.

O fear the Lord, you his holy ones,
for those who fear him have no want.
The young lions suffer want and hunger,
but those who seek the Lord lack no good thing.

I'm starting to collect baby comics...

clinging relentlessly

Just sent out this update to people interested in our retreats...

Friends,

It was a little surreal visiting the doctor this time. The same office, same examining room, and same doctor as a year ago. Same ultrasound equipment. But this time a baby quickly came into view, and Heather and I breathed a prayer of relief and gratitude. I don't think the doctor remembered breaking the sad news to us last year that a miscarriage was coming; she was just happy for us that everything looked good this time. As we watched, and the doctor tried to take accurate measurements, the tiny baby wiggled, turning away from our view. Shy, I guess, like me.

So it's been a very different springtime for us this year. The warmth has come slowly, and many of the trees show the impact of last summer's drought, but there is green everywhere again now. New life greets the sun each morning.

We also took the opportunity this spring, before farm and bakery work get more demanding, to visit friends at several ministries in the Chicago area. While visiting Good News Partners, we walked around their neighborhood with a women's bible study group, praying for and with the people there. One moment I remember well. We were with two friends, who had both been on retreats with us, and they were praying for a woman we just met there on the street. Praying that God would help her sons get out of the drug life. As we prayed with them, I thought of the many mothers praying the same anguished prayers on many other chilly streets. Clinging relentlessly to God's love.

We were also impressed by work being done with men in that neighborhood. Helping them as followers of Jesus to find ways to avoid violence in a culture where they face it on a daily basis. Theirs is not a problem of ethics. It's the challenge of protecting their friends and families and homes from people with very real weapons, and grudges, and reckless ambitions, and little tolerance for weakness. We pray that these men also can cling relentlessly to God's powerful love.

We're looking forward to seeing some of these friends on retreat this year. And we pray for them and you as life returns to the land, bringing new hopes with it. Please pray for us, our growing child, and our guests.

on losing my mind

I just heard that Walter Wink died. A year ago, actually, which shows I'm a little out of the theological loop. He had a lot of good things to say, though I've disagreed with him on some important points (and wished those aspects hadn't been so influential among the younger generation). But what really caught my attention about his death was his struggle with dementia.

A couple years before he died, Wink was asked in an interview, "What has this season of dementia taught you?" He replied:

I always thought that I might be able to learn from the illness, but my sense in passing is that this has not been a big learning experience. I just don’t think we ought to give so much credit to the sheer role of chance. We ought not to give death so much credit for our spiritual growth.

That's a sad answer. I remember years ago thinking about Peter Maurin's slow descent into dementia. Like Wink, he was a theologian, a thinker. Dorothy Day wrote of Maurin, her close friend and co-worker:

He has nothing left, he is in utter and absolute poverty. The one thing he really enjoyed, exulted in, was his ability to think. When he said sadly "I cannot think," it was because that had been taken from him, literally. His mind would no longer work. He sits on the porch, a huge old hulk. His shoulders were always broad and bowed. He looks gnomelike, as thought he came from under the earth. He shambles about, one-sidedly as though he had had a stroke. His head hangs wearily as though he could not hold it up. His mouth, often twisted as though with pain, hangs open in an effort to understand what is going on around him. Most of the time he is in a lethargy, he does not try to listen, or to understand. ...The only thing he had left in his utter poverty which made Skid Row his home and the horse market his eating places and the old clothes room his haberdasher was his brilliant mind. Father McSorley considered him a genius. Fr. Parsons said that he was the best read man he ever met. Now he remembers nothing. "I cannot remember, I cannot think."

That really scared me. Because I found my own identity primarily in my ability to think, and in ideas. To be stripped of that seemed to me to be sentenced to a living death.

But I also remember eventually finding some peace in the less intellectual aspects of my spiritual life, in the contemplative life. Because in contemplative spirituality, thinking is often pushed to the side, a hindrance rather than a help. What is sought is not ideas, but personal contact. Basking in God's presence rather than thinking about him. Finding our true being in God's being, in love, and abandoning everything that is not love.

From that perspective, losing my ability to think, losing all the ideas I had gathered, didn't seem so threatening. Even if I did lose my mind, my self would not be lost. Because love isn't the result of reasoning, love isn't a function of the brain, it is spiritual. I could still love. And I thought it may even be good for me (and perhaps others) to be stripped of those things in which we find false identities and be "reduced" to that which is truly our self. Our self as God sees us. A fearful and wonderful discovery.

stay out of school

College debt is a huge problem for young people today. And a big deterrent against doing charitable work or taking lower-paying (and lower-stress, more satisfying) jobs.

"the wise and intelligent"

From our worship last night:

Jesus said,

"I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth,
because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent

and have revealed them to infants;
yes, Father, for such was your gracious will."
(Mt 11.25-26)