Rethinking the Rough Times

I was visiting with a husband this week who came to see me with his wife.  He is from Iran and would like to be baptized.  He said his parents, who still live in Iran, have been living as Christians for 40 years.  He wants the baptism to be private, for the sake of protecting his family who might be threatened, harassed or persecuted for his profession of faith.  That led to a discussion about how relatively easy it is to be a Christian in the U.S.  There is not much in way of martyrdom going on here!  If I want to go to church, I go to church.  If I want to read my Bible at the coffee shop, I do so.  If I want to talk about my beliefs openly, I may get a few rolled eyes or silent stares, but I certainly don't run the risk of losing my life over it.  Does this mean I am not having an authentic Christian experience?

Today I was reading one of my favorite theologians, Henri Nouwen.  He wrote, "Sometimes we have to dare to be fools for Christ."  And then he went on to unpack that statement as being willing to work with people who exploit us or to undertake activities that seem "useless."  He claimed that if we come in touch either with the experience of being used or of being useless, we may in fact come close to a true Christian experience.

I have to confess, I have no idea what that means!  It was comforting to read that being exploited by others or being involved in ministries that seem to bear no fruit are the essence of what it means to be a true Christian, but I have no idea why!

Maybe it's about "leaving the results to God," which is something I hear in the 12 step world quite a bit.  Maybe it's coming face to face with the "way" of doing God's will instead of my own.  So Tammy, you are saying that being exploited and/or involved in useless activities is God's will for your life?  No, not exactly.  I'm saying that surrendering to life on life's terms (another 12 step phrase) is putting my desires, my wants, my needs aside and clearing the way for God to do (or not do) whatever God chooses.

As I meditated on this idea, I could see it as a path to healing.  For one, it allows me to adjust the narrative on some situations in my life in which the way I was treated seemed hurtful and malicious.  (I see this from the rearview mirror pov, because in the moment, I truly believed I was on the right course and if I just tried harder, I would finally be affirmed for "doing good.")  It matches with what I have come to understand as God's way of redeeming everything in our lives; of giving everything value.  God uses everything to form me.  God uses everything to show me where I am in my attempts to turn to and depend on him.  God uses everything to remind me, God has the last word.  That's what the resurrection of Jesus shows us -- God has the last word on evil (in general and in the particular actions of people) and on death. 

Jesus states emphatically in the Gospel of John, "No one takes (my life) from me, but I lay it down of my own accord.  I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it up again" (John 10:18).  I am convinced that because of the suffering, death, and resurrection of Jesus, I too can surrender to life (as Jesus surrendered his power and authority to the plans of evil people), trusting that God has the last word; that everything is not always as it seems.  

EHere's the thing though. "Everything" is not from God; sometimes it's from something "other than" God. 

What is this something other than God? One of our baptism vows in the United Methodist Church asks us to affirm, "Do you renounce the spiritual forces of wickedness, reject the evil powers of this world, and repent of your sin?"  As I renounce these things and repent of my limited point of view and understanding, I can be assured that evil doesn't win in my life either; at least not ultimately.  But my short-sightedness, as I reflect either on terrible actions I have taken in my life or on how others have mistreated me, can lead me to respond with self-hate or self-pity. But that is not going to lead to anywhere good.  In fact, it will get me "stuck" in my own limited thinking.  Yet these memories and the meaning I assign to them seem so real and powerful.  In a moment of extreme discomfort I might even say, "God, why is this happening?"  Why indeed?

Let me be clear.  God does not cook up disease and tragedy and misfortune in order to form or transform us.  But as life happens (and it most certainly does happen!) God is powerful enough to use everything for his ultimate purposes -- both for you and me as individuals and for the fulfillment of God's kingdom.  Maybe that's why regret (which should not be understood here as unrepentance) is a complete waste of time.  Maybe instead, as Henri Nouwen suggested, we can embrace the idea that in the midst of suffering at the hands of another, we have encountered the risen Christ.  In the midst of discovering the uselessness of a "cause" we have completely poured ourselves into, we can be reassured that nothing is useless in the economy of God.  Keep trusting that in our ineptness and confusion, God is performing miracles and changing the world. God really is powerful enough to reroute, reverse, and regenerate anything and anyone.  So what is there to regret?  Yes, we may grieve and mourn for a season, but as the Psalmist wrote, "You have turned my mourning into dancing; you have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, so that my soul may praise you and not be silent. O Lord, my God, I will give thanks to you forever" (Psalm 30:11-12).

So let us all take heart!  We must choose daily to embrace healing, pursuing it with everything we've got, and giving thanks for what God is doing in the visible and invisible realm as we receive our lives back.

Would an all-powerful, all-loving, all-merciful God do anything less than that?  I vote no.