A Teleological Life
Once again, through ways I will not bother relaying, I found myself preaching on a Sunday morning. The topic: finding purpose.
One of the biggest problems with the Advent/Christmas season is the worry about “losing the meaning of Christmas” due to “commercialism” and the other coca-cola-Santa-Claus-vices. I submit that there is a greater fear in limiting the Providence of God by localizing His actions and planning to one or two moments in time. The birth was not the end or the purpose of the incarnation, neither was the crucifixion, nor the resurrection. Place the various holidays and our personalized application of them on the back burner. They all work together in a unified way. God has an overall plan. A purpose. A “teleos” = goal.
From here a quick summary of various events in the life of Christ which show His clear acknowledgment of this goal/purpose, though mainly things were focused around Luke 2:41-52, where the pre-teen Jesus is going about His “father’s business”.
An old prof of mine has recently submitted that a better rendering of that phrase is said “to be among those who belong to my Father.” And who would those people be? Who belongs to the Father? Everyone, as evidenced by Jesus’ interactions in life: the “churched” and “unchurched” were on His relational radar.
Nicodemus, the woman at the well, the disciples, those others called but who walked away, the scribes, the tax collectors, the Pharisees, the prostitutes. None is exempt from the goal of Christ, calling all men/women onto repentance, and showing all how to live in perfect communion with God.
If we are Christians (read: “little christs,” “Christ like,” or “imitators of Christ”) then it seems to reason that said goal is the same: the purpose does not change, though individually we need to figure out what that looks like in each of our lives. How my goal is sought, accepted, or achieved will not be the same for you, but I still need to be actively seeking opportunities and accepting the ones that fall in my lap. I’ll say that again:
I need to be actively seeking opportunities and accepting the ones that fall in my lap.
Amid Kat Williams allusions and a bit of biblical exegesis, the question remained (and remains) how do I go about my Father’s work if I am not around His people with a specific purpose, and a godly one at that? It was not a five point sermon, with the preacher’s amazing answer at the end. Instead it was one question, repeated in different ways:
What is it God would have you do, specifically, relationally, and daily? What purposes/goals are you supposed to seek out and/or accept as they come your way?
Meekness
Meekness is having the power to respond in force and choosing not to. I feel like I’ve written that here before.
There is way too much going on in my life right now. Future and current decisions to be made. None of them small. All of them important.
It is at times like these that one (read: MEH) needs to stop, take inventory of life, and calm down, because sometimes things present themselves as an outlet to release frustration and rage. But that doesn’t always mean it’s a good thing.
Righteous indignation is a beautiful thing. Having the complete and utter moral footing and height over someone else, which allows you to drop kick them in the mouth. And it would be glorious. But wrong. Probably. You think of Jesus in the temple with the whip and the table throwing and the quickly dispersing, slightly brusied robes and I’m happy. But that was specifically about that scene. I can’t say the same, competely, or honestly, for my situation.
Oh yes, I am well within my rights to say various things, it’s moving beyond those which is the problem. Staying to what is relevant and not passive-aggressive, or simply mean. I have the paper work, the back up, the signed documents to display, all saying “you are an idiot: I have proof,” in a nice way; But beyond that . . . there really is no reason to bring up someone else’s daddy issues, failed life choices, or myopic nature into the mix. That would just be mean. It would feel good, but it would be wrong. Jesus wouldn’t smile.
And there it is: meekness. Knowing the power you have and chosing not to weild it. Knowing that silence might be the best tool. Or trying to pray, again, for the situation. Or simply keeping your head down for little while longer. Running out the clock.
sigh.
Job And Faith: What Shall We Do With This God?
I asked the question, out loud, via email and via Facebook, if people believed the biblical story of Job was real, meaning historical. The point being what Theology (words about God) comes from the story if you believe that Job was a real person, who lived in a real place, and had those real things happen to him.
Some had considered him to be historical, others said it was more an allegorical composite of suffering in the world, and others still had never considered the question. I was in the third camp, thus I asked the question.
I received many replies from all three camps. Many dealt with the Theodicy of the story: why there is evil in the world at all, if there is an all-powerful, all-loving God. That was not my concern.
Others commented on the lesson of Job in regards to how we should accept the suffering which will most definitely be a part of our lives; following Job’s righteous example. Again, nice, but not my concern.
I also received words about not taking a view of God solely from this passage, that the totality of scripture is needed to paint a clearer picture of God, on this side of the veil. Though probably the most wise words, they still did not completely hit the mark. For this passage does present an ulgy picture of God. Period. Others might smooth it out, but this one is wrinkled. The photo has been in the pocket of the most devout atheist, confused agnostic, and baffled theist since it was penned or passed by word of mouth.
What do we do with this God?
I believe the whollstic approach to the Bible is valid, even if somewhat unsettling, especially being one who does not like the answer “mystery” or “have faith” as a Christian catch-all, but more on that later.
In the midst of all this, I was challenged, more than once, to ignore the story. Or put more fairly, “have faith” in God and that “Faith” will iron the picture, or at the very least, turn your face to smoother sights.
I have a problem with this.
As a high school teacher, I don’t deal with people who accept “just have faith that it will all work out” as a viable answer. And they shouldn’t. Why? Because the world doesn’t work that way. Why? Because the Bible doesn’t work that way. Time and time again, the Biblical record shows people who do NOT come to peace or a good end, at least in this life. Not to mention the passages where we are admonished NOT to think that things will all be perfect and work out. Minor to major prophets. Jesus to Paul. All say do not think that “faith” means bad things won’t happen, or that the redemption of bad things will take place in your life time.
The story of Job is a perfect example of that. Things do NOT work out for good in that story. And the character of God is NOT a pleasing one. If it is an accurate picture of God, then an “unbeliever” reading it has good reason to ask why bother, as if they don’t have enough wrinkles in their life.
I was further admonished to not ask such questions out loud. This is not the first time in my life that has happened. The well intentioned thought being it will derail others from their “faith.”
This makes me wonder what said people’s “faith” was built on. As if “faith” has no relationship with “doubt.” I wonder if the writer of Hebrews feels the same way?
“Faith” does not cover the reality of what the story says about God’s character. It covers the idea of taking all of scripture as a whole, not in isolation, when talking about God’s character, but this story still shows that wrinkled picture of God. Ignoring that, not questioning it, does not make it go away. The Bible is not erased.
Jesus was a good Jew: He carried on the rabbinical tradition of asking hard questions loudly in public. By challenging the accepted system, including the parts He supported, because people were skimming over them, or ignoring the parts they didn’t like. He knew people needed to ask certain questions and find answers, especially those who actually take the time to read scripture and arrive at those questions themselves: those for whom the whole text is nice moral stories, motivational literature, or simply “foolishness.” Give them the story of Job.
Tell them to have “faith.”
Tell this to the 17 year old girl who recently got engaged because she “loves the idea of being married,” because it will be the only stability and safety she’s had in her life for a long time, because every parents, step parent, and grandparent have divorced.
The girl who has never seen a stable father figure in her life, spending most of her life trying to avoid men, other than the string of broken relationships, including the one she cheats on now.
The girl who has bounced from religion to religion, tried being an atheist, but gave it up because she “really wants to belong in a church,” for the sense of purpose and community.
The girl who wants to believe in a loving God who will be there for her, so she won’t have to find security in a marriage she believes will end in three years.
The girl who read the story of Job, then screamed, then cried, outloud and in an essay, what the fuck? How can I love a God, or believe a God like this loves me, when he ACTS the same way my broken family does?!”
If the Bible is the Word of God, our best picture/understanding of the way God interacts with the world, and communicates God’s plan for humanity and the universe, paints God in such a light, you tell her to “just have faith.”
And then go to sleep in your safe, warm bed.
A part of this “faith,” is asking tough questions and getting answers whenever you can. Why? Because it is not just about edifying the church, or keeping the status quo of safe christiandom. There are people who don’t have “faith” and can’t have “faith” because all they have seen is contradictions and pain, in the world and then in the Bible. We have to do better than giving false hope and pat answers.
Many passages talk about wrestling with and meditating on the scripture. There is a reason for that. Such actions are diametrically opposed to sticking our head under a pew, and the wrinkled picture back in our pocket citing “faith” as a photoshop tool: when “faith” is really another way of saying blind acceptance to whatever by pastor/priest/rabbi/father said.
Reading the text for yourself means to wrestle. To meditate. To grab an magnifying glass, an iron, and an open heart to really understand what it means to have “faith.”
The Most Romantic Story I Know.
The background is compelling: intimate.
The previous version of the story is universal, galactic, monotheistically wonderful. A singular all powerful deity who speaks the world into existence, seemingly out of nothing, in an ordered from chaos, way. Everything is accounted for. Nothing is forgotten. Elohyim, the ruler, the God, is in control of all.
This version of the story is completely different. Not a supplement. A new tale, with a new perspective on the relationship of God, not with the world, but with man. An intimate relationship.
Here God bears a different name: Jehovah Elohyim: God is/was/will be the ruler. But this ruler is not concerned with universal significance. He cares only for the ground. The adamah, from which he pulls adama: red dirt from which he pulls humanity. It is only after breathing life into this dirt that the plants grow, a garden is formed, and adama is placed in the center of “pleasure;” a place where four significantly named rivers flow. “Increase.” “Bursting forth.” “Rapid.” “Fruitful.” Where all beauty and nourishment is provided. Where everything is perfect. Intimate.
But the God who is/was/will be the ruler says that adama is not complete, even if he does not know it. So from the adamah more life is brought forth. Animals are paraded in front of adama, and he names them . . .
Until he feels a new emotion, an unfamiliar sensation. Loneliness. A lack of intimacy the other creatures obviously feel between their like-minded and liked shaped brethren. Adama is put to sleep . . . he awakes to find completion. Without being told he knows she was made from the same material as he. From within him.
A rib.
Not from his head, for she will not rule over him.
Not from his foot, for she will not be walked on by him.
A rib.
She is taken from his side, so she will not be dragged behind, or run ahead.
She will protect his heart for she knows every beat.
He will keep her under his arm to protect her.
They must walk side by side to accomplish this: To be a “help meet,” or a “helper fit,” or stated better still
“a sustainer beside” each other.
They have a job to complete together. A garden and animals to care for. A job they cannot do alone.
And so, until they fall away from each other, creation, their God, they are called by one name, as one flesh: adama.
Genesis 2:18-25 ~ Feel free to check on my Hebrew.
Why I Hate Being A Christian
This is my rant.
It is in poem form, it is not done yet, but it is true. 100% accurate. I couldn’t make this shit up. I’ve even cut out some of the insanity.
I will finish this one day, polished and hopefully published, but this is where it stands after a few days of weeding out the editorializing and commentary on the part of the speaker (me). This is as close as I can get right now to just stark, non-didactic observation.
The setting: a Reformed church in Wisconsin. White. Trying to be ‘progressive.’ Okay, I’m done.
Enjoy and cringe.
——————————————————————————————
“oh say, can you see ”
trapped in McCain country on a Sunday morning
the 6th of July. it’s an election year in the Midwest
and the rest of the country i suppose, though here
fireworks blaze for an extra week, like the cross on the lawn
of this church, when decorated for Christmas.
the reverend is traditionally, though ironically, robed
in black. the seasonal green sash around his shoulders
brings out the color of eyes, which close in prayer
as hands raise before god, over the congregation. he begins
with pride in the brave pioneers, mindful of their duty,
their manifest destiny to purify this promised land
like the children of Israel in Canaan, allowing us
to follow their footsteps onto this savage shore –
my eyes snap open in remembrance of some who came
in shackles, and those who left souls buried beneath
railroads and on tearful trails. i tuned back in on barbwire
swastikas and something about child molesters. he praises
the precious freedoms which stand against radical Islam,
baked bread and diesel fumes – the scents of home –
which triggers thoughts of Margaret awaiting word
on chemotherapy, and the silence of the drums this week
from Jeffery’s absence –the terrible spill which left his children
wondering when they will be able to play with their father.
after the amen i try to concentrate on the sermon,
but become lost in the mountains of Jerusalem
and their significance to our national & economic security,
how the Psalm relates to sheiks in sand or the almighty
dollar replaced by the euro. and then the axis of evil –
abortions, poverty and rap music – the balm for boys
who play games, young black men who only dream
of being musicians and athletes. the sincerity brought tears
to his eyes. he closed with a call for us to take stock of the symbols
of his faith: a body whipped and hung on a tree; an empty tomb;
the white wash of baptism; sitting inside the master’s house,
welcomed to wine at His table. and of course bread. with solemn nods
we were ushered forward for the Eucharist . i almost ran out
of room to take note.
~ MEH
I was trying to find a picture of the guy, but I can’t find the name of the church. . . . blast!