Suffering as Vocation

The story is told of a Sunday school teacher whose assignment was to explain to the six-year-olds in his class what someone had to do in order to go to heaven. In an attempt to discover what the kids already believed about the subject, he asked a few questions.

"If I sold my house and my car, had a big garage sale, and gave all my money to the church, would that get me into heaven?"
"NO!" the children answered.

"If I cleaned the church every day, mowed the yard, and kept everything neat and tidy, would that get me into heaven?"
Again, the answer was "NO!"

"Well then," he said, "if I was kind to animals and gave candy to all the children and loved my wife, would that get me into heaven?"
Again they all shouted, "NO!"

"Well then, how can I get into heaven?"

A boy in the back row stood up and shouted, "YOU GOTTA BE DEAD!"

Therein lies the problem: You gotta be dead to go to heaven. Consequently, you gotta be dead to know much about the place, as well.

~Excerpted from How Good is Good Enough by Andy Stanley


The title of this post is one of the topic headings of the new Bible study series for the womens' circles in our church. The whole thing focuses around suffering, where it comes from, why it exists, and what we as humans can do about it. The topic of suffering is not something I'm unfamiliar with, not necessarily because I've been through an exceptional amount of it, but more because it is a subject that came up a number of times during my last year as a religion major, and also has come up a number of times in my thoughts and conversations as of late.

Some of this thought process parallels what I wrote in the previous post. Is life fair? Why do bad things happen to good people? Why do good things happen to bad people? In the last post, more emphasis was put on what it means to be caught between a spiritual life and a life afflicted with an addiction or a habit that general society considers unacceptable. This discussion focuses more on where those situations arise, or, if the question can even be raised, why they arise.

Earlier this morning, I was reading an e-mail from a friend of mine that mentioned a number of questions they are currently facing, most of them, simply "whys." Why doesn't anyone think religion is important? Why has my life been so easy when others lives have been so difficult? Why do I deserve to have an easy life when I don't think I've done anything particularly wonderful? Why is my child, who is a generally good kid, going through so many struggles? Why don't more people put their faith first in their lives? Why do people refuse help from those who are trying to make their lives better?

After having talked about the why's of suffering a couple nights before, I found myself going back to some of the questions that were raised that evening...questions about how or if you can comfort someone who has lost a friend or family member, and the difference between a 99 year old woman dying peacefully in her sleep and being able to say that God called her home, and a 4 year old boy being killed in a car accident and how almost cruel it would be to use the same comment.

It struck me as odd to hear him say the word "deserve" so many times in relation to the things that he or those he knew were experiencing. Biblically, people were always looking for someone or something to blame when someone was afflicted with a disease or a physical ailment. Whether it was the person's own folly or that of their parents, every ailment or pain that they incurred was the fault of something that had been done. However, rarely if ever was that the case even then, and it certainly isn't the case now. Life, chaos, and evil simply present in the world cause such suffering. It exists, that in and of itself is enough for us to encounter it.

Grace is such a strange thing, as is unconditional love. It is nearly impossible for a frail human mind to grasp the possibility of a clean slate, and even more impossible for that same mind to understand why anyone would want to give that clean slate to such a flawed and undeserving person. And the only one who does understand this concept fully, unfortunately cannot bestow any answer upone us other than that He loves us so much that he can't do anything but give us that grace. There is no deserving. There is no earning. There is no turning away. There is no being better, or worse, there is no good or bad. There is only us, and a God who loves us so much that he was willing to undergo ultimate pain so that one day we might no longer even know what pain is. However, despite all of this, pain still exists, is present in this world, and often times, it seems like pain and evil are winning. There is no good way to explain it, no cut and dry answers that give us reasons for its presence. So, we are forced back to our faith...forced back to grace, time and time again.

Here's something to think about: if God appeared to you and asked, "why should I let you into heaven?" how would you answer? If you like most people, your answer might run something along these lines:

"I've always tried to..."
"I never..."
"I do my best..."

Whether I am talking to Muslims, Hindus, or Christians, the majority of the answers I receive to that question go back to an individual's attempt to live a good life. Why? Because most people believe that good people go to heaven.

The moral? Behave yourself now and you don't really need to worry too much about what happens next. The end. Now let's get back to work, golf, Little League, PTA--the pressing issues of this life.

But then every once in a while something happens that forces you to seriously consider the question of what's next--a funeral, a health scare, a birthday, a glance in the mirror. You don't like to think about it. You rarely ever talk about it. But it is always there. And the older you get, the more often you find yourself pushing it from your mind.

The fact is, the mortality rate for humans is 100 percent. And that bothers you. In spite of the fact that you believe there is something better on the other side of life, you are not at peace. And for good reason.

You see, as good as you are--and you are pretty good--you aren't really sure if you have been good enough. You hope so. And you are certainlyh better than...well...than certain people you know.

But how good is good enough?

Where's the line? Who is the standard? Where do you currently stand? Do you have enough time left to stash away enough good deeds to counterbalance your bad ones?

And while we're asking questions, I'll go ahead and throw one in that perhaps you've wondered about but were afraid to ask: just who is in charge of this operation? God? If so, he ought to have been a bit clearer about how this whole thing works. If our eternal residence hangs in the balance of how we live this, we could certainly do with some direction. A standard. A mile marker or two. Perhaps a mid-term.

"But wait," you say, "Isn't it the job of religion to answer those questions for me?" Sure. Most of the various world religions and their books do exist to answer those questions. Teachers, preachers, ulema, rabbis, priests, lamas--they are all in the business of getting us safely to the other side. Specifically, they are responsible for helping you and me understand how to live in such a way as to ensure a happy ending.

So why are you still unsure? You've been to church. Perhaps yo uattended a few religion classes as a child. And yet, if you are like the majority of people I talk to, you still are not confident where you stand with God. I ran across an interesting quote by Gandhi that underscored the universal uncertainty associated with religious belief. When questioned why he proselytized in the arena of politics but not in religion, he responded, "in the relam of the political and social and economic, we can be sufficiently certain to convert; but in the realm of religion there is not sufficient certainty to convert anybody, and, therefore, there can be no conversions in religions." Now that's helpful, isn't it? Even Gandhi didn't find certainty in religion.

~Excerpted from How Good is Good Enough by Andy Stanley

Though both of the excerpts I included in this post talk about salvation and not grace directly, in my eyes, the two are one in the same. We cannot receive salvation without the gift of grace. Religion - I can't stand that word. It has been misinterpreted and misunderstood for so long. Things are blamed on religion, attributed to religion, and called religion, and people hear them and automatically link them to their own faith or use it as a reason to why they don't have faith in God, and they link it to the faith of others, all of which cheapens it. I believe in God. I believe his son died to save me. I believe he loves me, and I believe that the only reason I receive grace and salvation is because of this love. I don't know why. I don't know why bad stuff happens to me and to those I love. But he loves us still. That is all. And that is enough.

How good... Grace at Work

I spent the last few days outside the Twin Cities in MN at a music festival called Higher Ground. It was a wonderful couple days - lots of great music, beautiful weather, and I spent the time there with three of my best friends, so it was a wonderful outing. I got to hear MercyMe play live for the first time, and if you haven't heard of them, or haven't heard their newest CD, "Coming Up To Breathe," you should check them out. Among the other artists there were Monk and Neagle, Mark Schultz, Joy Williams, Natalie Grant, and Denver and the Mile High Orchestra. I'd also encourage you to check out some of those artists as well.

The weekend was a powerful one and I left feeling rejuvinated...I love music and I love hearing it live and singing along with the hundreds of other people that come to the concerts. During the second day of concerts, I got a chance to hear a couple of speakers from the MN Teen Challenge choir. One of them shared a message about their past history of smoking and drinking, and at one point during his story said, "and even after I was born again, I still continued to smoke and drink for about the next 4 years." Though this statement may not seem like anything noteworthy or out of the ordinary, it is something I have thought about more than once over the past couple of months. While at a set of classes in the twin cities, I heard a story of a man who had a problem with alcoholism, but, at one point during his life, had met someone who had introduced him to Christ, gotten him to start reading the Bible, and had helped him get his spiritual life back on track. However, despite all of this, he remained an alcoholic, and if memory serves, even eventually died from it. He was a man that had likely read the Bible through cover to cover, perhaps several times, had a personal relationship with God, and yet, was an alcoholic. Yet another story that came to my attention, though slightly different in nature, was from the book Messy Spirituality by Michael Yaconelli. It recounted a comment that he had made regarding someone he considered to be a godly woman, despite the fact that the woman smoked and swore. The people he had said that to couldn't understand how a woman that did such things could be considered "godly."

Now, I realize that this was sort of a roundabout way to get to my point, but nonetheless, I have arrived at it. Each of these people had their vices, but each of them was still living as good a Christian life as each of them could in their circumstances, and in some cases, probably had a stronger faith life than some of their less-afflicted counterparts. However, understanding this and viewing their lives as Christian lives requires a much different perspective on Christianity and the age old question of what is "good enough" (which, incidentally, may be the wrong question to ask). I often feel a lot of times that I am more at ease around people who don't seem to quite have everything figured out, I think probably because I know that I myself am nowhere close to having my own faith completely figured out. Viewing "incomplete and unfinished" Christians (myself included in this category) as Christians requires a different outlook, and a different understanding of what is "pious" and "correct" living. It also means that we have to learn how to be aware and understanding of our faults and those of others, but not be content with leaving them where they are. This is a delicate line to walk--and often a difficult hill to climb.

So, can our incomplete, broken, falling short selves be capable of praising and worshipping the God who created us? I think the answer is yes...and I think those praises are often some of the most genuine and passionate praises that exist.

Memories

I had my first shot at seeing how the church services at a local alzheimers center are run today, a bit of a learning day so that I can eventually lead a "service" there. Once a month, an informal gathering is hosted by the church that I work at so that the residents can experience church there. My pastor led a short message on the lectionary for the month, and it focused on the way that bread is used in some pretty amazing ways in the Bible, particularly the feeding of the five thousand. Though I have heard this story probably 20 or 30 times since I was in Sunday School, I caught myself really thinking about it this morning.

5000 is an arbitrary number, because the women and children of the day were rarely if ever counted when a group was assessed. More than likely, the number was closer to 10,000 people that were hungry and needed to be fed. That was the part that struck me today. Recently moving to a small town with a population of just over 10,000, I wondered what it would be like not only to talk in front of a crowd that large, but to be asked for food by a crowd that large. My mind immediately jumped to the meals that my former church prepared on a fairly regular basis, for around 200-300 people, or to the meals that our cooks prepare at a camp I'd worked at each week for about the same number. I always considered that to be a feat in and of itself...Now multiply that by about 33 -- and you've got Jesus' hungry crowd.

I had a hard time even coming up with a place now where a group that large could go and receive a decent meal with no notice, and for no charge. And, Jesus didn't even think twice. He knew what had to be done. The disciples were as befuddled as I am about how that could be done, but Jesus just did what he had to do and fed the crowd. "He only saw their need" was a phrase that my pastor spoke during his message, and I thought for quite a while about those words. After recently having been on a mission trip, this phrase struck a chord with me - what would it be like to only see the people's needs? To not see their disheveled hair and dirty clothes, to not see them on the street corners as befouling the city, to not see the bottle of whiskey or smell alcohol on their breath, to not see a hopeless person or child, but to only see their need.

As you can see, my thought process jumped around a lot during all of this, but that phrase at the end ties all of it together. We are simple human beings that have a difficult time understanding what it means to see past the surface and then , to go a step further and act upon what we see. May we all see the needs around us, and have the wisdom, courage, and strength we need to reach out to them.

** Another side note: one other thing that I caught myself paying a lot of attention to was the singing we were doing. Even at the Alzheimer's patient service, those residents could remember the words to the hymns we were singing, often, better than the rest of us that were there.

Listening to all of the residents sing, in truth, was nothing of note. Some of them were a measure or two behind, some were a little off key...but, as I sat there, singing along, I couldn't help but think I was singing, at that moment, in one of God's most beautiful choirs. I could almost see the smile on his face.

So I have a new blog to play with...and thought I might just use my first post to put a few of my pictures up. I have a photography fetish, and it is becoming more and more of a tool of expression for me, interestingly enough, a lot of the metaphors I see present in my photos don't become apparent to me until after I take the picture and see it later on. At any rate, enjoy, and maybe I'll have more to say the next time I post.

Objects in the mirror are closer than they appear...kind of an interesting metaphor with the sun rays...

Betcha didn't know chipmunks ate goldfish.

I love this picture...the light coming through the leaves was just beautiful.

A perfect night at the lake.