Shopping as a Spiritual Exercise.
All the way down at the end of the plumbing aisle at Lowe’s I found what I was looking for–a four-foot-long galvanized pipe with a red handle on the top. It’s an amazing device called a yard hydrant. Even when the ground is frozen solid and the air temperature is 10 degrees it provides water. It’s almost miraculous.
I installed the hydrant in our back pasture, and sure enough, even in the middle of winter, when I walk out there and lift the handle, water pours out.
Every time I go into Lowe’s or Home Depot, I marvel at all the stuff available. Yard hydrants. Light fixtures. Lumber. Pipes. Bags of concrete. Then I come to the tool section. Wow! A whole wall of drill bits, saw blades, screw drivers, pliers, levels, tape measures, wrenches, chisels, hammers–sometimes I just stand there and stare, my mind spinning with admiration and desire.
Shopping.
What does shopping have to do with God? With godliness? How can buying a yard hydrant become a spiritual exercise?
It’s possible to pick up a yard hydrant, carry it to the check out, pay my money and walk out of the store with nothing more than a piece of hardware. It’s also possible to turn my purchase into an experience of communion, of conscious participation in a global network of thousands of people.
The creation of that hydrant requires the collaboration of miners, mill workers, designers, engineers, accountants just to complete the initial processes converting iron ore into the galvanized pipe, stainless steel rods and cast iron used for various parts of the hydrant. There are similar chains of people who create the brass used for the valve base and the ethylene propylene used for the plunger. Finally the hydrant is assembled (probably in China) and shipped. Shipping in this case probably means transportation by rail, boat and truck. The entire process is tied together by a communication network of wires and satellites and people.
These thousands, or more likely tens of thousands, of people all worked together so I could shop for a hydrant to provide water for my horses. And the forty-five dollars I pay for the hydrant plays a role in putting a dress on a five-year-old girl in China and in paying for the violin played by the son of the truck driver who hauled the container from the Port of Tacoma to Lowe’s in Federal Way.
The foundry worker in China and the truck driver here in Washington both invested a portion of their life in serving me. When I make my purchase, I am honoring their service. I am participating with them in a global communion. As I make my purchase I breath a prayer of blessing on the many hands and minds that are united in my simple act of buying a hydrant. And shopping becomes a verily communion as when I eat bread and drink grape juice at church.
(The more aware I become of the connection of my purchase to real, live people, the more likely I am to ask questions about the global economic system. It is not just “a system.” It is a network of people. The well-being of all those people matters at least as much as my own convenience.)
In addition to the experience of communion, there is also a sermon waiting for my attention in the purchase of that yard hydrant.
I go to the store. I buy a relatively cheap piece of hardware. I take it home and install it a thousand feet from the house. It’s fairly easy to be aware of my work, my personal effort in the process of installing that hydrant. I can tell you the hours I spent, the money I spent.
It takes more deliberate attention to appreciate how much truth that my plumbing work is entirely dependent on the prior work of others–on the tens of thousands of people I mentioned earlier.
It’s the same with spiritual life. It is easy to aware of our practices of Bible study and prayer. We can measure the hours and dollars we have invested in church life. We can count the devotional and theological books we have read and the seminars we have attended. We know about our effort to cultivate spiritual life.
The reality is that all of our spiritual life–ALL OF IT–is utterly dependent on the work of others. There would be no Bible to read apart from the thousands of anonymous monks who sat in cold dark monasteries copying manuscripts. There would be no English Bible apart from the scholars who specialized in exotic, ancient languages and passed their knowledge along from generation to generation. There would be no church to attend or devotional books to read if it weren’t for the Christian community over the centuries that has been the absolutely essential soil for the growth of preachers, mystics, composers, artists, writers, theologians, missionaries, dissidents, reformers, visionaries, prophets and even hermits.
My personal, individual spiritual life is possible only because it was preceded and is surrounded by a global network of humans. God alone is not enough. The Bible alone is not enough. Spiritual life is a function of a human network–i.e. church. (Just to be clear, the Roman Catholic claim to be the only authentic embodiment the Christian community over time is just as laughable as the contemporary notion that authentic Christianity can be my own personal, individual creation.) Church (the community of believers across geography and chronology) is one of the absolutely necessary conditions for the Bible or the Holy Spirit to be effective in the cultivation of Christian spirituality. Just as the global economic network is the absolutely necessary precursor to my installation of a hydrant in my back pasture.
So I go to the store for plumbing supplies. I buy a hydrant and in the process take part in communion and hear a fine sermon. Not a bad deal.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Christian Politics
Let me keep all my money. Don’t touch my guns or SUV. Allow me my divorce. Then I’ll be happy. I’ll even vote for you.
This is a caricature, but it is a recognizable one. It prompts me to ask, what is the essence of authentically Christian political thought?
Christian thinking about politics was powerfully shaped by the threat of communism in the middle part of the last century. Adventists, like other Christians, were terrified by what seemed to be the inexorable tide of global communism which combined collectivism and atheism. Here in the U.S. we linked every kind of collective action outside of church with communism. Unions–communist fronts. Social security, welfare, Medicare, minimum wage laws–all leading edges of the wedge of socialism, itself a mere mask for communism.
Since collectivism was communist, we were for individualism. Radical individualism. This was reaffirmed by our eschatology which pictured the end of history as a totalitarian extermination of the last vestiges of individual conscience.
Against the menace of collectivism gone rampant we embraced a radical individualism. If you want a quality education, pay for it. Out of your own pocket. Do you want health care. Get busy and earn enough money to pay for it. All of it. Do you want a clean environment? Earn enough money to buy enough acres to create your own environment. Do you want a decent income? Don’t look to unions or the government to safeguard your hourly wage. Go to graduate school or medical school. If you don’t have the brains or drive to do that, then accept what is offered without grumbling.
There maybe value in this Darwinian, blessings to the strongest, approach to life. However, I can’t see what it has to do with the philosophy of Jesus. The Good Samaritan, The Two Great Commandments, The Sermon on the Mount, The Story of the Sheep and Goats all point to some kind of social awareness and care. If “I” have an obligation to respond to the need of individuals around me, it seems “we” have some obligation to the needs of the community around us.
Accepting the obligations of community will not make us automatically favor “leftist” or “socialist” politics. It does mean the highest values in our political philosophy cannot be low taxes, big cars, easy guns and easy divorce. Maybe these particular strategies will turn out to be the best way to promote the well-being of society. But it is the well-being of society–including the well-being of the weakest, poorest and sickest–that must be our highest concern.
“Pro-life” must also mean pro-environment, pro-living wage, pro-accessible health care, pro-education, pro-accessible legal aid because these things are essential if humans are going to thrive in third millennium America. “Pro-business” should also mean pro-strong judiciary, pro-public and private transportation, pro-education, pro-accessible health care because these provide the essential infrastructure for solid business growth.
Our belief in the value of freedom leads us to keep the state out of divorce decisions as far as possible. Our belief in community, in a shared responsibility for children and even for adults, prompts us to insist on some state involvement in divorce. This same ambiguity should apply to our stance on homosexual unions. The state must offer some measure of protection to children and adults associated with unions between homosexuals. Not because we “believe in homosexuality,” but because we believe in the value of people and community.
Perhaps it will turn out that low taxes, easy gun ownership, no limits on emissions and easy marriage and divorce for heterosexuals only are the public policies most conducive to a prosperous, peaceful society. I’m not quite yet convinced. What I am convinced of is that for Christians, the starting point cannot be simply–I want what’s desirable for me. Rather our starting point must be a vision of well-being that includes “the least of these.” At every step in the policy making process, Christians ought to ask, how is my opinion informed by the teaching and example of Jesus.
Then we can have truly fruitful political debate and can craft public policy that promotes prosperity and peace for all.
This is a caricature, but it is a recognizable one. It prompts me to ask, what is the essence of authentically Christian political thought?
Christian thinking about politics was powerfully shaped by the threat of communism in the middle part of the last century. Adventists, like other Christians, were terrified by what seemed to be the inexorable tide of global communism which combined collectivism and atheism. Here in the U.S. we linked every kind of collective action outside of church with communism. Unions–communist fronts. Social security, welfare, Medicare, minimum wage laws–all leading edges of the wedge of socialism, itself a mere mask for communism.
Since collectivism was communist, we were for individualism. Radical individualism. This was reaffirmed by our eschatology which pictured the end of history as a totalitarian extermination of the last vestiges of individual conscience.
Against the menace of collectivism gone rampant we embraced a radical individualism. If you want a quality education, pay for it. Out of your own pocket. Do you want health care. Get busy and earn enough money to pay for it. All of it. Do you want a clean environment? Earn enough money to buy enough acres to create your own environment. Do you want a decent income? Don’t look to unions or the government to safeguard your hourly wage. Go to graduate school or medical school. If you don’t have the brains or drive to do that, then accept what is offered without grumbling.
There maybe value in this Darwinian, blessings to the strongest, approach to life. However, I can’t see what it has to do with the philosophy of Jesus. The Good Samaritan, The Two Great Commandments, The Sermon on the Mount, The Story of the Sheep and Goats all point to some kind of social awareness and care. If “I” have an obligation to respond to the need of individuals around me, it seems “we” have some obligation to the needs of the community around us.
Accepting the obligations of community will not make us automatically favor “leftist” or “socialist” politics. It does mean the highest values in our political philosophy cannot be low taxes, big cars, easy guns and easy divorce. Maybe these particular strategies will turn out to be the best way to promote the well-being of society. But it is the well-being of society–including the well-being of the weakest, poorest and sickest–that must be our highest concern.
“Pro-life” must also mean pro-environment, pro-living wage, pro-accessible health care, pro-education, pro-accessible legal aid because these things are essential if humans are going to thrive in third millennium America. “Pro-business” should also mean pro-strong judiciary, pro-public and private transportation, pro-education, pro-accessible health care because these provide the essential infrastructure for solid business growth.
Our belief in the value of freedom leads us to keep the state out of divorce decisions as far as possible. Our belief in community, in a shared responsibility for children and even for adults, prompts us to insist on some state involvement in divorce. This same ambiguity should apply to our stance on homosexual unions. The state must offer some measure of protection to children and adults associated with unions between homosexuals. Not because we “believe in homosexuality,” but because we believe in the value of people and community.
Perhaps it will turn out that low taxes, easy gun ownership, no limits on emissions and easy marriage and divorce for heterosexuals only are the public policies most conducive to a prosperous, peaceful society. I’m not quite yet convinced. What I am convinced of is that for Christians, the starting point cannot be simply–I want what’s desirable for me. Rather our starting point must be a vision of well-being that includes “the least of these.” At every step in the policy making process, Christians ought to ask, how is my opinion informed by the teaching and example of Jesus.
Then we can have truly fruitful political debate and can craft public policy that promotes prosperity and peace for all.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Finding God in Other Religions
Text: Genesis 14:18-20
As disciples of Jesus, we are familiar with his words, “I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved” (John 10:9). We remember other words in that same chapter, “The one who does not enter through the gate is a thief and robber” (John 10:1).
From this it is a short leap to the idea that anyone who does not understand Jesus the way we do is somehow a thief and robber. “Other Religions” are not just “other,” they are devilish, demonic, dangerous, evil. God would never show up in those neighborhoods.
This fundamentalist view is corrected by other words of Jesus, again from the same chapter. “I have other sheep who are not of this sheep pen. I must bring them also” (John 10:16). These “other sheep” who belong to “other sheep pens” already belong to Jesus. Over there. In that other place. Jesus will call them, yes. He has plans for them. Still, right now, while they are still over there, he acknowledges they are already his.
These twin truths,“I have sheep in other sheep pens” and “I must bring them” give two poles to our thinking about “other religions.”
1. We cooperate with Jesus in giving the invitation to those others to come and be part of this sheep pen. We do evangelism, witnessing, sharing or whatever label you prefer for communicating our beliefs and practices to others.
2. We recognize that people in those other pens--other religions--already belong to Jesus. Even the clergy of these "opposing religions" may well already belong to Jesus. So our evangelism is not based on condemnation of other people or other religions. We do not have to prove people are damned before we can offer them the good things God has given us.
These twin truths show up in the larger story of Scripture.
A. In the Bible, God is very outspoken in his choice of the Jews as his special people. (I will not bother listing texts.)
B. God freely works through non-Jewish priests, prophets and kings! (Below are a few dramatic examples.)
Priest/King
According to Genesis 12, God chose Abraham and promised to make him the father of a special nation. Some time later, Abraham meets a Canaanite priest, Melchizedek, who is the king of Jerusalem. (Remember, this is hundreds of years before Jerusalem becomes a Jewish city under David.) Abraham confirms the godly status of this Canaanite priest by paying him tithe!
This story is one of the most dramatic illustrations of principle that being “God’s chosen”–that’s Abraham–is not a negation of the ministry of others, not even a negation of the ministry of a Canaanite!
Prophet
Balaam is introduced in Numbers 22 as a Babylonian prophet who has direct communion with God. He is seduced by money, but his prophecies are preserved in Scripture and are celebrated still today as some of the earliest promises regarding the Messiah. In Balaam’s story we see God’s strong preference for Israel and God’s active involvement with a venal Babylonian prophet.
Kings
Isaiah, writing for God, refers to the Assyrian king as “the rod of my anger, in whose hand is the club of my wrath!” (Isaiah 10:5). Even though the King of Assyria has no conscious intention of cooperating with God, Isaiah writes that his attacks on Israel are actually holy work. God is in them.
Further on in Isaiah we read about Cyrus the "Lord's anointed." For the sake of Israel God will "call him by name and bestow on him a title of honor." God says, "I will strengthen you, though you do not acknowledge me. . . . I will raise Cyrus up in my righteousness . . . he will rebuild my city" (Isa. 45).
Jeremiah writes similarly about God's "servant Nebuchadnezzar king of Babylon. (Jer. 27:4-7).
Daniel pictures God at work in the court of Babylon eventually winning the allegiance of the King of Babylon. Nebuchanezzar's conversion does not make him a Jew (an official member of the official people of God). It does place a godly man at the head of the Babylonian system. What if the pope (or your favorite interpretation of the king of Babylon in Revelation) yielded to God’s initiative even partially? Would you recognize it?
Melchizedek the Canaanite, Senaccharib the Assyrian, Nebuchadnezzar the Babylon, and Cyrus the Persian are all recognized as servants of God. All of them except Senaccharib are presented as honorable servants of God. They are good people, doing God's work.
How does this apply in our own setting?
A. We confidently present to the world our understanding of the mission and truth of God. We want the world to know about a God who does not torture, a God who creates freedom and has exalted dreams for his people (to share the throne with him for all eternity–Rev. 22:5). We invite people to experience the enhanced quality of life that comes flows from the disciplines of healthy living–Sabbath-keeping, relationship cultivation, diet, exercise, education. We invite people to join us in “the remnant church.”
B. We renounce “Babylon-bashing.” We expect God to be active in other people, even in other religions. We honor what God is doing elsewhere. We do not confuse “being chosen” with condemnation of all the others. When we see others doing the work of God–and compassion, moral action, stewardship of earth, health care, restoration of relationships, easing of pain, recovery from addiction–we cooperate where we can. We take comfort in the assurance we have that God is active all over–not just everywhere in a geographic sense but also in a cultural, religious, ethic sense. God reigns.
The bottom line: our evangelism, our proclamation to the world is not driven by our conviction that everyone out there is evil and every other system is controlled by the devil. Rather, healthy evangelism is driven by an overflow of joy and gratitude. What God has given us is too precious to be hoarded. We are too happy with our treasure to keep quiet.
As disciples of Jesus, we are familiar with his words, “I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved” (John 10:9). We remember other words in that same chapter, “The one who does not enter through the gate is a thief and robber” (John 10:1).
From this it is a short leap to the idea that anyone who does not understand Jesus the way we do is somehow a thief and robber. “Other Religions” are not just “other,” they are devilish, demonic, dangerous, evil. God would never show up in those neighborhoods.
This fundamentalist view is corrected by other words of Jesus, again from the same chapter. “I have other sheep who are not of this sheep pen. I must bring them also” (John 10:16). These “other sheep” who belong to “other sheep pens” already belong to Jesus. Over there. In that other place. Jesus will call them, yes. He has plans for them. Still, right now, while they are still over there, he acknowledges they are already his.
These twin truths,“I have sheep in other sheep pens” and “I must bring them” give two poles to our thinking about “other religions.”
1. We cooperate with Jesus in giving the invitation to those others to come and be part of this sheep pen. We do evangelism, witnessing, sharing or whatever label you prefer for communicating our beliefs and practices to others.
2. We recognize that people in those other pens--other religions--already belong to Jesus. Even the clergy of these "opposing religions" may well already belong to Jesus. So our evangelism is not based on condemnation of other people or other religions. We do not have to prove people are damned before we can offer them the good things God has given us.
These twin truths show up in the larger story of Scripture.
A. In the Bible, God is very outspoken in his choice of the Jews as his special people. (I will not bother listing texts.)
B. God freely works through non-Jewish priests, prophets and kings! (Below are a few dramatic examples.)
Priest/King
According to Genesis 12, God chose Abraham and promised to make him the father of a special nation. Some time later, Abraham meets a Canaanite priest, Melchizedek, who is the king of Jerusalem. (Remember, this is hundreds of years before Jerusalem becomes a Jewish city under David.) Abraham confirms the godly status of this Canaanite priest by paying him tithe!
This story is one of the most dramatic illustrations of principle that being “God’s chosen”–that’s Abraham–is not a negation of the ministry of others, not even a negation of the ministry of a Canaanite!
Prophet
Balaam is introduced in Numbers 22 as a Babylonian prophet who has direct communion with God. He is seduced by money, but his prophecies are preserved in Scripture and are celebrated still today as some of the earliest promises regarding the Messiah. In Balaam’s story we see God’s strong preference for Israel and God’s active involvement with a venal Babylonian prophet.
Kings
Isaiah, writing for God, refers to the Assyrian king as “the rod of my anger, in whose hand is the club of my wrath!” (Isaiah 10:5). Even though the King of Assyria has no conscious intention of cooperating with God, Isaiah writes that his attacks on Israel are actually holy work. God is in them.
Further on in Isaiah we read about Cyrus the "Lord's anointed." For the sake of Israel God will "call him by name and bestow on him a title of honor." God says, "I will strengthen you, though you do not acknowledge me. . . . I will raise Cyrus up in my righteousness . . . he will rebuild my city" (Isa. 45).
Jeremiah writes similarly about God's "servant Nebuchadnezzar king of Babylon. (Jer. 27:4-7).
Daniel pictures God at work in the court of Babylon eventually winning the allegiance of the King of Babylon. Nebuchanezzar's conversion does not make him a Jew (an official member of the official people of God). It does place a godly man at the head of the Babylonian system. What if the pope (or your favorite interpretation of the king of Babylon in Revelation) yielded to God’s initiative even partially? Would you recognize it?
Melchizedek the Canaanite, Senaccharib the Assyrian, Nebuchadnezzar the Babylon, and Cyrus the Persian are all recognized as servants of God. All of them except Senaccharib are presented as honorable servants of God. They are good people, doing God's work.
How does this apply in our own setting?
A. We confidently present to the world our understanding of the mission and truth of God. We want the world to know about a God who does not torture, a God who creates freedom and has exalted dreams for his people (to share the throne with him for all eternity–Rev. 22:5). We invite people to experience the enhanced quality of life that comes flows from the disciplines of healthy living–Sabbath-keeping, relationship cultivation, diet, exercise, education. We invite people to join us in “the remnant church.”
B. We renounce “Babylon-bashing.” We expect God to be active in other people, even in other religions. We honor what God is doing elsewhere. We do not confuse “being chosen” with condemnation of all the others. When we see others doing the work of God–and compassion, moral action, stewardship of earth, health care, restoration of relationships, easing of pain, recovery from addiction–we cooperate where we can. We take comfort in the assurance we have that God is active all over–not just everywhere in a geographic sense but also in a cultural, religious, ethic sense. God reigns.
The bottom line: our evangelism, our proclamation to the world is not driven by our conviction that everyone out there is evil and every other system is controlled by the devil. Rather, healthy evangelism is driven by an overflow of joy and gratitude. What God has given us is too precious to be hoarded. We are too happy with our treasure to keep quiet.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Finding God on the Farm
Finding God on the Farm
North Hill Adventist Fellowship, August 19, 2009
Texts: Exodus 20:10; Numbers 22, 1 Samuel 9; Matthew 10:29
I got home Wednesday afternoon about 2:00. I walked out back to where my daughter was working her horse.
“I’m going to eat lunch,” I told her. “ Then I’m headed to the church.”
“Okay,” she responded, “but you should know Bolero has knocked down the electric in his stall.” (We use electric fencing to keep the horses from chewing up the wood in their stalls.)
Great, I thought. Always something.
I had spent Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday morning in continuing education meetings for pastors. I sated with theological theories and methodology for church life. I was impatient to get on with the actual work of ministry. I had come home thinking I would eat a good lunch, then dive into my to-do list. Now I had to mess with horse damage.
I don’t do animal care at our house. I don’t feed or clean stalls. But I do handle the repairs. And it seems like the animals are always tearing up something.
I was really hungry, and I was impatient get going on my to-do list for the church. But if I didn’t fix the electric now, no telling how badly it might be mangled later. So I headed over to check out Bolero’s stall.
Bolero is my wife’s treasure, a one-year-old colt she has raised from birth. He is full of energy and mischief. Because of the weather and Karin’s work schedule, he had been penned up in his stall for the last couple of days. So no wonder he got into mischief.
As I unlatched the gate on his pen he came toward me. I stared in horror at the right side of his head. Where his eyeball was supposed to be was a weird red patch of tissue. I couldn’t see the eye ball at all.
I called to Bonnie. “We’ve got a big problem. There’s something terribly wrong with Bolero’s eye. I’ve got to call the vet.”
I reached Dr. Campbell on my cell phone. Yes, we could bring the horse over for him to look at.
Since Karin was at work, it was up to Bonnie and me to take care of the problem.
Lunch would have to wait.
She put her horse away and we walked Bolero the quarter mile up the road to the vet’s place. He sedated the horse, then checked out the eye. Fortunately, it was not as bad as I feared. The red tissue was the result of some kind of inflamation around the eye. With proper care, it would probably heal up fine.
He gave the horse a couple of injections. Put some ointment in the eye, then sent us home with instructions to ice the eye immediately while the horse was still drunk from the sedative.
It was kind of funny walking a drunk horse down the road home. He staggered all over the road. Several times he nearly staggered into the ditch. We got him home, tied him up to the hitching rack and fetched an ice pack from the house. I set the alarm on my phone for 15 minutes and held the ice pack to his eye. He wasn’t crazy about the operation, but he was too drunk to protest effectively.
Standing there for fifteen minutes with nothing to do except make sure he didn’t fall over and keep the ice pack on his eye gave me some time to think.
Naturally, my first reaction was resentment. I really had more important things to do than stand there holding an ice pack on a horse’s eye. Besides, I was seriously hungry. And it wasn’t my horse. Then I had to laugh. What a perfect illustration of the truth I’ve been focusing on in this sermon series.
God had shown up on our farm in the person of a horse.
Naturally enough, we expect to encounter God in religious places like church, prayer and the Bible. In reality God shows up all over the place if only we have eyes to see.
God is in the glory of mountains and in the sweet beauty of lilies and columbines. God also reveals himself in the terror of avalanches and consuming power of thirty-foot surf.
Romance and sexual intimacy teach spiritual truths that are only hinted at in words in books. God is also revealed in the challenge of unity between beings as different and difficult as men and women.
In the city, we readily honor the reflection of God we see in the achievements of academics and artists. We marvel at the technological innovation and complex systems of transportation and communication. God is also present in the pain and dysfunction of miserable humans so evident in the crumbling parts of the metropolis. Meth addicts, prostitutes, homeless schizophrenics are all God’s children. When we touch them with care and hope, we are easing the pain of God.
And God lives on the farm. On our farm. Your farm. And not just in the glory of galloping horses on sunny mornings or the purr of contented cats. God is also present in the demands animals make on us through their needs.
God must have special appreciation for horses and cows. He actually included them in the fourth commandment. “Remember the Sabbath to keep holy . . . don’t work . . . and don’t work your horses or cows.”
The most repeated picture of God in the Bible is God responding to the human predicament. Humans are in trouble because of something stupid they have done or something evil someone else has done. People are in trouble and God steps in.
Even at the very beginning. While Christian tradition imagines a period of blissful communion between God and Adam and Eve before they sin, the first recorded conversation between people and God happens only after the people get into trouble.
God comes looking for Adam and Eve, calling for them like we call after our missing pets. “Adam, Eve, where are you?”
God is the Savior, Shepherd, Comforter–all words that evoke images of responding to human difficulty.
So I’m standing there on Wednesday afternoon, keeping company with God, holding an ice pack to the swollen eye of one of God’s horses. This was not on my calendar. It was not on my to do list. But what can I do? It looks like my wife’s prize colt has lost its eye. So, naturally, I take the colt to the vet. Dr. Campbell said, “Ice that eye for fifteen minutes as soon as you get home, while he is still under the effective of the sedative.”
So, I’m icing the eye.
And hope that God is, indeed, keeping me company in the barnyard.
The Bible has a couple of stories about people who have significant encounters with God because of trouble with horses. (Well, actually donkeys. But I think that’s close enough to make my point.)
First is the story of Balaam. Balaam was a prophet. Not a Jewish prophet, but still a prophet with an extraordinary connection with God.
Some enemies of the Jews hire him to curse the Jews. After consulting God, Balaam tells them he can’t do that. They figure he is just holding out for a bigger honorarium. So they come back and offer him more money and greater honor and beg him to help them out by cursing the Jews. He checks with God again, then agrees to go with them to see about putting a curse on the Jews.
He is riding his donkey to his appointment when all of a sudden the donkey leaves the road and strikes off into a field beside the road. Balaam is understandably annoyed and beats his donkey with a stick, finally getting him back on the road.
A little later when the road goes through a narrow space between two walls, the donkey crowds to one side smashing Balaam’s foot against the wall. Again, Balaam beats the donkey with his stick.
Finally, they come to a very narrow place. This time the donkey just lies down. Balaam gets off the donkey and begins to flail away with his stick. Probably, he’s throwing in a few choice words as well.
About this time the donkey speaks up.
“Why are you beating me?”
“What do you mean, you stupid donkey, ‘why am I beating you?’ First, you take off into a field. Then you smash my foot against a wall. Now you lie down in the middle of the road. Why am I beating you? If I had a sword I’d kill you.”
“Have I ever acted like this before?” The donkey asks.
“No.” Balaam grudgingly acknowledged.
“Look, I’m the same donkey you have ridden all your life. If I have never before done anything like this, don’t you think there might be a good reason?”
About this time, God comes to the aid of the donkey. He allows Balaam to see an angel who is standing smack in the middle of road just ahead of where the donkey had lain down. The angel scolds Balaam.
“How come you beat your donkey like that? When he headed out into the field it was to avoid running into me. When he smashed your foot against the wall he was squeezing by me in the narrow road. And this time, there was no way to get around me.
“I have been sent by God to bar your way. Your donkey saw me and tried to comply with the obvious message conveyed by my presence in the middle of the road.
“If that donkey had run into me I would not have harmed the donkey, but I would have killed you.”
Balaam was stunned. Naturally. “I’m sorry.” he mumbles to the angel. “I didn’t know you were standing in the road. Now if you think I shouldn’t go, I’ll turn around and head back home.”
“No,” the angel said. “Keep going. Just make sure you speak only the words God gives you.”
So Balaam kept his appointment. He prophesied over the Jewish people. Instead of cursing them, he blessed them. A famous blessing still read 4000 years later, a blessing set up by a troublesome horse (or donkey).
The next story that comes to mind is the story of Saul, son of Kish. Some of Kish’s donkeys wander off. Kish sends out his son Saul and a servant to look for them. They hike for days through the hill country of Ephraim and Shalishah. They head on over into the territory of the tribe of Benjamin. Still no donkeys. Finally, Saul decides they better head back or Dad is going to be more worried about them than he is about the lost donkeys.
The servant says, “Wait. Before we head back, let’s go to the holy man in the next town. He is highly respected because everything he says comes true. Maybe he can tell us where to find our donkeys.”
Saul agrees to go meet the holy man who turns out to be the prophet Samuel. When they meet Samuel, it is obvious that Samuel is expecting them. He tells them not to worry about the donkeys. They are back home, and Saul’s father is now worried about Saul. Then Samuel tells Saul that God has chosen him to become the king of Israel.
Saul is astonished. He left home looking for donkeys. He has spent the last several weeks wandering the Palestinian wilderness looking for lost donkeys. Where does his search for those perverse donkeys bring him? To an encounter with the leading holy man of Israel who gives him a message from God: You have been chosen king.
As I was standing there holding the ice pack to Bolero’s eye on Wednesday afternoon, I was hoping God was going to use this interruption of my life as a segue into some dramatic, heroic service.
Of course, that’s not what happened. After I iced his eye, I checked the electric in his stall. It wasn’t working at all. I found a problem in the plug on the electric charge box and fixed that. Then I spent close to an hour redoing all the insulators in his stall which he had rubbed on or kicked or chewed on. I replaced the electric tape and finally left the drunk horse to recover while I grabbed some lunch and headed toward the church for my evening meeting.
The only connection with God I was aware of in the whole operation was a reminder that God spends his whole life taking care of people who screw up.
That horse had screwed himself up. He needed help–help he could not summon or manage. He needed help that only I, at that moment, could give.
Just like people need God’s help to deal with the messes we make.
God’s care for animals is highlighted by Jesus in Matthew 10:10. Not a sparrow falls to the ground unnoticed by God’s loving attention. In Matthew 6, Jesus insists that birds eat because God feeds them.
This world is full of dramatic, horrific evil. We think of the stern, despotic rulers of North Korea or Burma. Going back a few decades we remember the horrors of Rwanda and Cambodia. Here in our own neighborhoods murders happen. In our own homes brutal words are used, maybe even physical abuse is dished out. I hope not.
In the face of all this God invites us to keep him company in giving care to the animals within our sphere. When we teach our children to feed their cats and dogs, we are teaching them to cooperate with God. God, too, is affected by their welfare.
Then looking beyond the care for animals, we are summoned to the care of people. Maybe we can lift our voice in protest against the burning of Christian homes and churches in Pakistan. Maybe we can lend our influence to oppose the systematic oppression of the Palestinians. Perhaps we can make a difference in the life of a kid through being a tutor or just a friend.
When we interrupt our big, important, significant work to give care to the insignificant, unimportant little ones, we are entering into the tenderness and attentiveness of God.
The Bible story begins with God taking initiative. God does God’s thing. He creates a world. But ever since, most of the action of God pictured in the Bible, is God reacting to human need. God deals with the fallout of human choices, human errors, human failures. God is kept busy all through the Bible cleaning up human messes.
We hurt ourselves. We mess up our world. We damage other people. And God does not turn away. God does not overlook our mess. He responds. He changes his plans to engage our reality. He holds ice packs to our eyes. He puts back up the guidelines we tear down in our boredom or rambunctiousness.
Near the end of Jesus’ ministry, when he finally decides it’s time to demonstrate his rightful claim to royalty, he rides into Jerusalem on a colt.
He must like horses.
Then in Revelation when Jesus is described as finally triumphing over the forces of evil, he is pictured as riding on a white horse followed by his people also mounted on white horses.
Wednesday night, I left it to Karin to continue the medical attention to Bolero. I could only stand so much direct cooperation with God in holding an ice pack to Bolero’s eye.
But I’ve found myself thinking all week, where else is God hiding? Where else would I encounter God, if I paid attention?
Bolero’s need for my immediate attention was not the only time this week the farm intruded into my life. Friday morning, I jumped up from my desk to go separate two dogs that got into a fight. It was not fun. It was not on my calendar or on my to do list. But it was care that was needed RIGHT NOW.
How often is “God’s Perfect Plan” rearranged to meet the actual situation of our lives? The Bible uses multiple images to persuade us that God is watching and responding to the human situation. When we who are farmers (or pet owners) respond to the needs and messes of our animals, we are walking with God. Throughout the Bible God is pictured as engaged with animals (and other little ones). He invites us to be aware of him keeping us company while we serve the voiceless ones in our care.
Maybe the animals on your “farm” are actually people–children, broken, hurting adults–people whose needs call you away from your preset plans. Pay attention. It may be that God is inviting you to spend fifteen minutes keeping him company holding an ice pack to his horse’s eye. Maybe God just wants to slow us down and keep him company in the barnyard. For a while.
North Hill Adventist Fellowship, August 19, 2009
Texts: Exodus 20:10; Numbers 22, 1 Samuel 9; Matthew 10:29
I got home Wednesday afternoon about 2:00. I walked out back to where my daughter was working her horse.
“I’m going to eat lunch,” I told her. “ Then I’m headed to the church.”
“Okay,” she responded, “but you should know Bolero has knocked down the electric in his stall.” (We use electric fencing to keep the horses from chewing up the wood in their stalls.)
Great, I thought. Always something.
I had spent Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday morning in continuing education meetings for pastors. I sated with theological theories and methodology for church life. I was impatient to get on with the actual work of ministry. I had come home thinking I would eat a good lunch, then dive into my to-do list. Now I had to mess with horse damage.
I don’t do animal care at our house. I don’t feed or clean stalls. But I do handle the repairs. And it seems like the animals are always tearing up something.
I was really hungry, and I was impatient get going on my to-do list for the church. But if I didn’t fix the electric now, no telling how badly it might be mangled later. So I headed over to check out Bolero’s stall.
Bolero is my wife’s treasure, a one-year-old colt she has raised from birth. He is full of energy and mischief. Because of the weather and Karin’s work schedule, he had been penned up in his stall for the last couple of days. So no wonder he got into mischief.
As I unlatched the gate on his pen he came toward me. I stared in horror at the right side of his head. Where his eyeball was supposed to be was a weird red patch of tissue. I couldn’t see the eye ball at all.
I called to Bonnie. “We’ve got a big problem. There’s something terribly wrong with Bolero’s eye. I’ve got to call the vet.”
I reached Dr. Campbell on my cell phone. Yes, we could bring the horse over for him to look at.
Since Karin was at work, it was up to Bonnie and me to take care of the problem.
Lunch would have to wait.
She put her horse away and we walked Bolero the quarter mile up the road to the vet’s place. He sedated the horse, then checked out the eye. Fortunately, it was not as bad as I feared. The red tissue was the result of some kind of inflamation around the eye. With proper care, it would probably heal up fine.
He gave the horse a couple of injections. Put some ointment in the eye, then sent us home with instructions to ice the eye immediately while the horse was still drunk from the sedative.
It was kind of funny walking a drunk horse down the road home. He staggered all over the road. Several times he nearly staggered into the ditch. We got him home, tied him up to the hitching rack and fetched an ice pack from the house. I set the alarm on my phone for 15 minutes and held the ice pack to his eye. He wasn’t crazy about the operation, but he was too drunk to protest effectively.
Standing there for fifteen minutes with nothing to do except make sure he didn’t fall over and keep the ice pack on his eye gave me some time to think.
Naturally, my first reaction was resentment. I really had more important things to do than stand there holding an ice pack on a horse’s eye. Besides, I was seriously hungry. And it wasn’t my horse. Then I had to laugh. What a perfect illustration of the truth I’ve been focusing on in this sermon series.
God had shown up on our farm in the person of a horse.
Naturally enough, we expect to encounter God in religious places like church, prayer and the Bible. In reality God shows up all over the place if only we have eyes to see.
God is in the glory of mountains and in the sweet beauty of lilies and columbines. God also reveals himself in the terror of avalanches and consuming power of thirty-foot surf.
Romance and sexual intimacy teach spiritual truths that are only hinted at in words in books. God is also revealed in the challenge of unity between beings as different and difficult as men and women.
In the city, we readily honor the reflection of God we see in the achievements of academics and artists. We marvel at the technological innovation and complex systems of transportation and communication. God is also present in the pain and dysfunction of miserable humans so evident in the crumbling parts of the metropolis. Meth addicts, prostitutes, homeless schizophrenics are all God’s children. When we touch them with care and hope, we are easing the pain of God.
And God lives on the farm. On our farm. Your farm. And not just in the glory of galloping horses on sunny mornings or the purr of contented cats. God is also present in the demands animals make on us through their needs.
God must have special appreciation for horses and cows. He actually included them in the fourth commandment. “Remember the Sabbath to keep holy . . . don’t work . . . and don’t work your horses or cows.”
The most repeated picture of God in the Bible is God responding to the human predicament. Humans are in trouble because of something stupid they have done or something evil someone else has done. People are in trouble and God steps in.
Even at the very beginning. While Christian tradition imagines a period of blissful communion between God and Adam and Eve before they sin, the first recorded conversation between people and God happens only after the people get into trouble.
God comes looking for Adam and Eve, calling for them like we call after our missing pets. “Adam, Eve, where are you?”
God is the Savior, Shepherd, Comforter–all words that evoke images of responding to human difficulty.
So I’m standing there on Wednesday afternoon, keeping company with God, holding an ice pack to the swollen eye of one of God’s horses. This was not on my calendar. It was not on my to do list. But what can I do? It looks like my wife’s prize colt has lost its eye. So, naturally, I take the colt to the vet. Dr. Campbell said, “Ice that eye for fifteen minutes as soon as you get home, while he is still under the effective of the sedative.”
So, I’m icing the eye.
And hope that God is, indeed, keeping me company in the barnyard.
The Bible has a couple of stories about people who have significant encounters with God because of trouble with horses. (Well, actually donkeys. But I think that’s close enough to make my point.)
First is the story of Balaam. Balaam was a prophet. Not a Jewish prophet, but still a prophet with an extraordinary connection with God.
Some enemies of the Jews hire him to curse the Jews. After consulting God, Balaam tells them he can’t do that. They figure he is just holding out for a bigger honorarium. So they come back and offer him more money and greater honor and beg him to help them out by cursing the Jews. He checks with God again, then agrees to go with them to see about putting a curse on the Jews.
He is riding his donkey to his appointment when all of a sudden the donkey leaves the road and strikes off into a field beside the road. Balaam is understandably annoyed and beats his donkey with a stick, finally getting him back on the road.
A little later when the road goes through a narrow space between two walls, the donkey crowds to one side smashing Balaam’s foot against the wall. Again, Balaam beats the donkey with his stick.
Finally, they come to a very narrow place. This time the donkey just lies down. Balaam gets off the donkey and begins to flail away with his stick. Probably, he’s throwing in a few choice words as well.
About this time the donkey speaks up.
“Why are you beating me?”
“What do you mean, you stupid donkey, ‘why am I beating you?’ First, you take off into a field. Then you smash my foot against a wall. Now you lie down in the middle of the road. Why am I beating you? If I had a sword I’d kill you.”
“Have I ever acted like this before?” The donkey asks.
“No.” Balaam grudgingly acknowledged.
“Look, I’m the same donkey you have ridden all your life. If I have never before done anything like this, don’t you think there might be a good reason?”
About this time, God comes to the aid of the donkey. He allows Balaam to see an angel who is standing smack in the middle of road just ahead of where the donkey had lain down. The angel scolds Balaam.
“How come you beat your donkey like that? When he headed out into the field it was to avoid running into me. When he smashed your foot against the wall he was squeezing by me in the narrow road. And this time, there was no way to get around me.
“I have been sent by God to bar your way. Your donkey saw me and tried to comply with the obvious message conveyed by my presence in the middle of the road.
“If that donkey had run into me I would not have harmed the donkey, but I would have killed you.”
Balaam was stunned. Naturally. “I’m sorry.” he mumbles to the angel. “I didn’t know you were standing in the road. Now if you think I shouldn’t go, I’ll turn around and head back home.”
“No,” the angel said. “Keep going. Just make sure you speak only the words God gives you.”
So Balaam kept his appointment. He prophesied over the Jewish people. Instead of cursing them, he blessed them. A famous blessing still read 4000 years later, a blessing set up by a troublesome horse (or donkey).
The next story that comes to mind is the story of Saul, son of Kish. Some of Kish’s donkeys wander off. Kish sends out his son Saul and a servant to look for them. They hike for days through the hill country of Ephraim and Shalishah. They head on over into the territory of the tribe of Benjamin. Still no donkeys. Finally, Saul decides they better head back or Dad is going to be more worried about them than he is about the lost donkeys.
The servant says, “Wait. Before we head back, let’s go to the holy man in the next town. He is highly respected because everything he says comes true. Maybe he can tell us where to find our donkeys.”
Saul agrees to go meet the holy man who turns out to be the prophet Samuel. When they meet Samuel, it is obvious that Samuel is expecting them. He tells them not to worry about the donkeys. They are back home, and Saul’s father is now worried about Saul. Then Samuel tells Saul that God has chosen him to become the king of Israel.
Saul is astonished. He left home looking for donkeys. He has spent the last several weeks wandering the Palestinian wilderness looking for lost donkeys. Where does his search for those perverse donkeys bring him? To an encounter with the leading holy man of Israel who gives him a message from God: You have been chosen king.
As I was standing there holding the ice pack to Bolero’s eye on Wednesday afternoon, I was hoping God was going to use this interruption of my life as a segue into some dramatic, heroic service.
Of course, that’s not what happened. After I iced his eye, I checked the electric in his stall. It wasn’t working at all. I found a problem in the plug on the electric charge box and fixed that. Then I spent close to an hour redoing all the insulators in his stall which he had rubbed on or kicked or chewed on. I replaced the electric tape and finally left the drunk horse to recover while I grabbed some lunch and headed toward the church for my evening meeting.
The only connection with God I was aware of in the whole operation was a reminder that God spends his whole life taking care of people who screw up.
That horse had screwed himself up. He needed help–help he could not summon or manage. He needed help that only I, at that moment, could give.
Just like people need God’s help to deal with the messes we make.
God’s care for animals is highlighted by Jesus in Matthew 10:10. Not a sparrow falls to the ground unnoticed by God’s loving attention. In Matthew 6, Jesus insists that birds eat because God feeds them.
This world is full of dramatic, horrific evil. We think of the stern, despotic rulers of North Korea or Burma. Going back a few decades we remember the horrors of Rwanda and Cambodia. Here in our own neighborhoods murders happen. In our own homes brutal words are used, maybe even physical abuse is dished out. I hope not.
In the face of all this God invites us to keep him company in giving care to the animals within our sphere. When we teach our children to feed their cats and dogs, we are teaching them to cooperate with God. God, too, is affected by their welfare.
Then looking beyond the care for animals, we are summoned to the care of people. Maybe we can lift our voice in protest against the burning of Christian homes and churches in Pakistan. Maybe we can lend our influence to oppose the systematic oppression of the Palestinians. Perhaps we can make a difference in the life of a kid through being a tutor or just a friend.
When we interrupt our big, important, significant work to give care to the insignificant, unimportant little ones, we are entering into the tenderness and attentiveness of God.
The Bible story begins with God taking initiative. God does God’s thing. He creates a world. But ever since, most of the action of God pictured in the Bible, is God reacting to human need. God deals with the fallout of human choices, human errors, human failures. God is kept busy all through the Bible cleaning up human messes.
We hurt ourselves. We mess up our world. We damage other people. And God does not turn away. God does not overlook our mess. He responds. He changes his plans to engage our reality. He holds ice packs to our eyes. He puts back up the guidelines we tear down in our boredom or rambunctiousness.
Near the end of Jesus’ ministry, when he finally decides it’s time to demonstrate his rightful claim to royalty, he rides into Jerusalem on a colt.
He must like horses.
Then in Revelation when Jesus is described as finally triumphing over the forces of evil, he is pictured as riding on a white horse followed by his people also mounted on white horses.
Wednesday night, I left it to Karin to continue the medical attention to Bolero. I could only stand so much direct cooperation with God in holding an ice pack to Bolero’s eye.
But I’ve found myself thinking all week, where else is God hiding? Where else would I encounter God, if I paid attention?
Bolero’s need for my immediate attention was not the only time this week the farm intruded into my life. Friday morning, I jumped up from my desk to go separate two dogs that got into a fight. It was not fun. It was not on my calendar or on my to do list. But it was care that was needed RIGHT NOW.
How often is “God’s Perfect Plan” rearranged to meet the actual situation of our lives? The Bible uses multiple images to persuade us that God is watching and responding to the human situation. When we who are farmers (or pet owners) respond to the needs and messes of our animals, we are walking with God. Throughout the Bible God is pictured as engaged with animals (and other little ones). He invites us to be aware of him keeping us company while we serve the voiceless ones in our care.
Maybe the animals on your “farm” are actually people–children, broken, hurting adults–people whose needs call you away from your preset plans. Pay attention. It may be that God is inviting you to spend fifteen minutes keeping him company holding an ice pack to his horse’s eye. Maybe God just wants to slow us down and keep him company in the barnyard. For a while.
Friday, August 7, 2009
God in the City
Finding God in the City
I spent Thursday in Seattle. My wife had a class at Swedish hospital for advanced certification in obstetrical nursing. I went along so we could drive in the car pool lane. After dropping her off I drove by Seattle University and parked myself in a coffee shop to work on my sermon. In the afternoon, I spent an hour walking along bluffs that overlook Puget Sound.
Walking on Magnolia Way it was easy to imagine God really enjoying city life. The people I encountered appeared fit, relaxed, successful, happy. Yards showed the investment of lots of care, creativity and money. Out on the Sound, under a partly cloudy sky, boats threw up white wakes. Gulls called. Who could imagine a better place to live?
I’ve gone to concerts in the city, spent hours in the art museums, done research in the University library. From our house we have easy access to the airport.
The city is where human creativity is most fully developed in education, art, music, medical specialization, business, technology and transportation. In the city humans act most like the Creator God, shaping every aspect of their world with artfulness and intellect. No wonder God delights in cities. It is easy to recognize the image of God in the grand creativity of humans displayed most fully in the city.
In the Bible, God’s pleasure in urban life is shown in the story of Jonah’s mission to Nineveh, in the insistence that Jerusalem is the place where God chose “to put his name,” and in the final pictures of Revelation focused on the New Jerusalem.
There are "unbeautiful" elements of urban life where God’s involvement may not be obvious.
This week, I visited a couple of friends who live on McKinley Avenue in south Tacoma. The house they live in is pretty dilapidated. The few pieces of furniture are decrepit and dirty. Neither of the guys has steady employment. Henry and Jeff scrape by on odd jobs and veterans disability benefits. They have long histories with alcohol. The area is notorious for drugs and crime. There are store front churches and a couple of Buddhist temples serving immigrants (not sophisticated, urbane White Buddhists).
When I stopped by, they were watching TV. I sat down to watch with them. A woman was telling her story: Her daughter’s boyfriend had approached her sexually. It surprised her, but did not make her unhappy. Then the boyfriend was brought on stage. He protested it had been an unfortunate mistake. The mother said she loved him which caused him considerable consternation. About that time they brought out the daughter. She was furious. How could her mother have done this to her? She told her boyfriend she was through with him, then slapped him. The boyfriend said, “I deserved that.” About that time, mercifully, there was a commercial break.
Having never seen the show before I was astonished and mesmerized. My friends laughed at my naivete. “You’ll be coming over every day just so you can watch Jerry Springer!”
As I was leaving, one of the guys asked about a woman we know. When I said she had been at church recently he urged me to put in a good word for him with her. He made a light-hearted reference to past liaisons with her. I have no idea whether he was talking fact or fiction.
How do we find God in this part of the city?
My first reaction to the losers on Jerry Springer’s show was dismissive. Why did they let some producer sucker them into telling their miserable story to the world? But to God, the mother, daughter and boyfriend were not mere pawns in a crude reality TV show. They were his daughters and son. The chaos of their lives is not the bizarre action of incomprehensible strangers, it is the life of God’s children.
When I listen to friends talk about their children’s addictions, sexual and marital blunders, employment and educational failures, I hear all kinds of emotions. Anger, hurt, bewilderment, longing, hope, despair. What I don’t hear is detachment. It may be the thirty-fifth chapter of the same old story, but because it is being written in the life of their child, there is no detachment. Their child is not an alien, not a stranger.
When I first met Henry and Jeff, they seemed to me to be aliens, inhabitants of a different planet separated from my world by a profound, unbridgeable chasm. Now we are friends. Their block is part of my “neighborhood.” They are part of my parish. Their struggles and desires touch my heart. I suspect God is pleased with the friendship between his sons.
When we keep company with the city dwellers whose lives are the fodder of crime novels and reality TV shows we are keeping God company. When we touch their pain with some bit of solace we are touching and soothing the pain of God (Matthew 25). We encounter God by opening our hearts to people with broken, chaotic lives. God lives with them, too.
Often Christians have imagined the “good life” to be life in a rural setting far removed from the demands of complex society and the evident brokenness that can be found in parts of the city. But this is a defective imagination. The Bible’s picture of God’s presence places God especially among humans who hurt and sin and fail. For those with eyes to see and hearts that are fully aware, God will be encountered most intensely in the heart of the city, in the press and call of human need.
In the Book of Revelation, the final picture of divine-human life is not set in a garden or wilderness. It is the picture of a vibrant city full of light, work and harmonious relationships. God loves a city. It is our calling as Christians to seek the peace of the cities where we live (Jeremiah 29) and to prepare for an eternity of urban bliss with God (Revelation 22:1-5).
I spent Thursday in Seattle. My wife had a class at Swedish hospital for advanced certification in obstetrical nursing. I went along so we could drive in the car pool lane. After dropping her off I drove by Seattle University and parked myself in a coffee shop to work on my sermon. In the afternoon, I spent an hour walking along bluffs that overlook Puget Sound.
Walking on Magnolia Way it was easy to imagine God really enjoying city life. The people I encountered appeared fit, relaxed, successful, happy. Yards showed the investment of lots of care, creativity and money. Out on the Sound, under a partly cloudy sky, boats threw up white wakes. Gulls called. Who could imagine a better place to live?
I’ve gone to concerts in the city, spent hours in the art museums, done research in the University library. From our house we have easy access to the airport.
The city is where human creativity is most fully developed in education, art, music, medical specialization, business, technology and transportation. In the city humans act most like the Creator God, shaping every aspect of their world with artfulness and intellect. No wonder God delights in cities. It is easy to recognize the image of God in the grand creativity of humans displayed most fully in the city.
In the Bible, God’s pleasure in urban life is shown in the story of Jonah’s mission to Nineveh, in the insistence that Jerusalem is the place where God chose “to put his name,” and in the final pictures of Revelation focused on the New Jerusalem.
There are "unbeautiful" elements of urban life where God’s involvement may not be obvious.
This week, I visited a couple of friends who live on McKinley Avenue in south Tacoma. The house they live in is pretty dilapidated. The few pieces of furniture are decrepit and dirty. Neither of the guys has steady employment. Henry and Jeff scrape by on odd jobs and veterans disability benefits. They have long histories with alcohol. The area is notorious for drugs and crime. There are store front churches and a couple of Buddhist temples serving immigrants (not sophisticated, urbane White Buddhists).
When I stopped by, they were watching TV. I sat down to watch with them. A woman was telling her story: Her daughter’s boyfriend had approached her sexually. It surprised her, but did not make her unhappy. Then the boyfriend was brought on stage. He protested it had been an unfortunate mistake. The mother said she loved him which caused him considerable consternation. About that time they brought out the daughter. She was furious. How could her mother have done this to her? She told her boyfriend she was through with him, then slapped him. The boyfriend said, “I deserved that.” About that time, mercifully, there was a commercial break.
Having never seen the show before I was astonished and mesmerized. My friends laughed at my naivete. “You’ll be coming over every day just so you can watch Jerry Springer!”
As I was leaving, one of the guys asked about a woman we know. When I said she had been at church recently he urged me to put in a good word for him with her. He made a light-hearted reference to past liaisons with her. I have no idea whether he was talking fact or fiction.
How do we find God in this part of the city?
My first reaction to the losers on Jerry Springer’s show was dismissive. Why did they let some producer sucker them into telling their miserable story to the world? But to God, the mother, daughter and boyfriend were not mere pawns in a crude reality TV show. They were his daughters and son. The chaos of their lives is not the bizarre action of incomprehensible strangers, it is the life of God’s children.
When I listen to friends talk about their children’s addictions, sexual and marital blunders, employment and educational failures, I hear all kinds of emotions. Anger, hurt, bewilderment, longing, hope, despair. What I don’t hear is detachment. It may be the thirty-fifth chapter of the same old story, but because it is being written in the life of their child, there is no detachment. Their child is not an alien, not a stranger.
When I first met Henry and Jeff, they seemed to me to be aliens, inhabitants of a different planet separated from my world by a profound, unbridgeable chasm. Now we are friends. Their block is part of my “neighborhood.” They are part of my parish. Their struggles and desires touch my heart. I suspect God is pleased with the friendship between his sons.
When we keep company with the city dwellers whose lives are the fodder of crime novels and reality TV shows we are keeping God company. When we touch their pain with some bit of solace we are touching and soothing the pain of God (Matthew 25). We encounter God by opening our hearts to people with broken, chaotic lives. God lives with them, too.
Often Christians have imagined the “good life” to be life in a rural setting far removed from the demands of complex society and the evident brokenness that can be found in parts of the city. But this is a defective imagination. The Bible’s picture of God’s presence places God especially among humans who hurt and sin and fail. For those with eyes to see and hearts that are fully aware, God will be encountered most intensely in the heart of the city, in the press and call of human need.
In the Book of Revelation, the final picture of divine-human life is not set in a garden or wilderness. It is the picture of a vibrant city full of light, work and harmonious relationships. God loves a city. It is our calling as Christians to seek the peace of the cities where we live (Jeremiah 29) and to prepare for an eternity of urban bliss with God (Revelation 22:1-5).
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