When I was 24 years old, my first husband, Matt, and I had moved away from home so that I could go to seminary. One evening the police came to my door and told me that Matt was dead, killed in an accident at work. I felt like my life had ended too.
I had some really great friends at that time who helped me to survive. They helped me find ways to laugh and to hope. My family and Matt's family were incredible support.
Then there was God. Or maybe I should say there wasn't. Many people talk about feeling peace descend upon them in difficult times. Some talk about the sense of God's presence around them. This was not my experience. I felt abandoned by God.
Being in the midst of seminary at the time, I had countless opportunities for theological discussions about such matters. As I spoke of my perplexity that God would feel so absent at a time when I needed God most, I heard many attempts at answers. Perhaps my grief was getting in the way of my feeling God. Perhaps it was a lack of faith on my part. Some said God was present for me through my friends and other helping hands. True, but not what I was looking for. I wasn't looking for some mountaintop experience either. I just wanted some glimmer of God's presence with me. I think I was looking for that feeling that you get sometimes when you pray and it feels like someone out there is listening. I thought I had felt that before, why not now? I was angry and confused.
Then in some of the readings I was doing for one of my seminary classes I begin to get a glimmer of hope from Christ's cry on the cross: "My God, my God why have you forsaken me." Here was Jesus, God's own son, voicing the feelings of my soul. This being Jesus, surely it couldn't be something Jesus was doing wrong nor could it be a figment of his imagination. Surely, for Jesus to utter this cry there must have been some sense in which Jesus truly was abandoned by God at that moment. Oddly, this was extremely comforting for me. If abandonment was a reality for Jesus then it might be for me as well. My feelings might not be a lack of faith nor a result of my being out of my mind with grief. My feelings might actually reflect reality. For quite some time I remained in that spot, comforted by my solidarity with Jesus. In his cry of forsakenness Jesus stood with me and all who suffer. This was more than Jesus holding my hand while I cried. This was Jesus shaking his fist at God with me. This was Jesus taking my experience, my reality, and claiming it as right and holy.
I still wrestled with where God was in it all. This is where it gets mind bending and paradoxical. Jesus is God made flesh, fully human and fully divine. In "The Crucified God", Jurgen Moltmann describes the abandonment of Jesus as "something which took place between God and God." Jesus abandoned by God means God both abandoning me and standing in solidarity with me in my abandonment. This is a mystery for sure. God is God. Any glimpse of who God might be is bound to be mysterious and beyond our comprehension. This mystery was and is very important to me. It took all my anger, hurt, and doubt, claimed it all as holy and still allowed me room to hope in God's love.
This does not mean that all is explained. I still have questions and I hold on to some of my anger. In part, I do this willfully, intentionally holding on to these things so that I can stand in solidarity with others who suffer and feel abandoned by God.
I write this now because one of those dear friends I mentioned earlier recently asked me what I would say to someone in the midst of a similar grief. There is much I could say and some of it I relayed on. Here in this space I wanted to set down some of what was helpful for me in wrestling with my anger and questions. Perhaps a reader out there somewhere feels abandoned too.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Friday, February 18, 2011
Eve: The Mother of All Worry?
I have been thinking about Eve lately. Eve from the creation story, first woman and all that. It seems to me Eve often gets blamed a bit unjustly. Sure, she disobeyed God but she also got talked into it by a theological discussion with a snake. I have had theological discussions with snakes before. It is a little harsh to call these people snakes. But you know the kind of discussion I mean: the agenda is preset, the outcome is set in stone before hand, nothing you say can change the course of the discussion, you are doomed if you don't convert to their way of thinking. You might just eat that apple so the snake will shut up and go away. I doubt Eve's snake would have given up easily either.
So, I think we tend to be a little hard on Eve. Yet recently I began to wonder if a little more blame could be cast at her feet. I wonder if the fact that it was she who first ate the apple could have something to do with a problem many women face: worrying. I know men worry sometimes too, but worrying seems to be something the majority of women have down to an art. Could this have something to do with that first bite of fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil? It seems like most of my worrying comes from knowing good and evil: treasuring my children, family, etc. and thinking of all the things that could harm the people I love. Would I give up knowing the good, feeling that love to the depths of my being, in order to avoid worrying about the bad? I don't think so.
I wonder what would have happened if Adam and Eve had not eaten from that tree. Would they have remained ignorant? We don't know. Perhaps God would have taught them and passed on the knowledge over time. Maybe part of Eve's sin was unwillingness to let God work in God's own time and way. I know that part of my worrying has to do with control. Many of the things I worry about are out of my control. I can't keep my kids from getting sick. I can't prevent traffic accidents from happening. The only thing I can do about those things is worry. In some twisted way I think this gives me a teensy bit of an illusion of control. Sure I can pray too, but at three o'clock in the morning when all the horrible possibilities are swirling around in my head my prayers are reduced to little more than begging, "Please, please, please don't let that happen."
Don't tell me "let go and let God." Life has smacked us all in the nose enough times to make that sound just as helpful as "quit worrying". As though I am doing it on purpose and could stop whenever I want to. There is plenty of heartache and tragedy in this world, plenty to worry about. I believe that God is a loving God and someday we will see how all of this life makes sense. Right now since we are living in the thorns it is understandable that we can not see the beauty of the rose. I worry about those thorns. I guess I could blame Eve or the snake. I am pretty good at blaming God.
Or maybe worrying is just part of living life with deep emotions and an active imagination. I don't think I want to give up either of those things. Maybe next time I am lying awake I can acknowledge that worrying is a side effect of who I am, take some deep breaths and wait for the panic to pass. I am sure it won't be long before I have a chance to try it out. Perhaps that is the result of a gift passed on from Eve but it is certainly part of the gift of being me.
So, I think we tend to be a little hard on Eve. Yet recently I began to wonder if a little more blame could be cast at her feet. I wonder if the fact that it was she who first ate the apple could have something to do with a problem many women face: worrying. I know men worry sometimes too, but worrying seems to be something the majority of women have down to an art. Could this have something to do with that first bite of fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil? It seems like most of my worrying comes from knowing good and evil: treasuring my children, family, etc. and thinking of all the things that could harm the people I love. Would I give up knowing the good, feeling that love to the depths of my being, in order to avoid worrying about the bad? I don't think so.
I wonder what would have happened if Adam and Eve had not eaten from that tree. Would they have remained ignorant? We don't know. Perhaps God would have taught them and passed on the knowledge over time. Maybe part of Eve's sin was unwillingness to let God work in God's own time and way. I know that part of my worrying has to do with control. Many of the things I worry about are out of my control. I can't keep my kids from getting sick. I can't prevent traffic accidents from happening. The only thing I can do about those things is worry. In some twisted way I think this gives me a teensy bit of an illusion of control. Sure I can pray too, but at three o'clock in the morning when all the horrible possibilities are swirling around in my head my prayers are reduced to little more than begging, "Please, please, please don't let that happen."
Don't tell me "let go and let God." Life has smacked us all in the nose enough times to make that sound just as helpful as "quit worrying". As though I am doing it on purpose and could stop whenever I want to. There is plenty of heartache and tragedy in this world, plenty to worry about. I believe that God is a loving God and someday we will see how all of this life makes sense. Right now since we are living in the thorns it is understandable that we can not see the beauty of the rose. I worry about those thorns. I guess I could blame Eve or the snake. I am pretty good at blaming God.
Or maybe worrying is just part of living life with deep emotions and an active imagination. I don't think I want to give up either of those things. Maybe next time I am lying awake I can acknowledge that worrying is a side effect of who I am, take some deep breaths and wait for the panic to pass. I am sure it won't be long before I have a chance to try it out. Perhaps that is the result of a gift passed on from Eve but it is certainly part of the gift of being me.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Valentine's Day: Loving Our Enemies
Next Sunday many congregations will read Matthew 5:38-48 in which Jesus talks about loving our enemies. I am not sure if it is ironic or appropriate to have this scripture as a follow up to Valentine's Day. Far from the romantic, tingly toes type of love that we tend to focus on during Valentine's Day, this scripture uses words like hate, enemies, persecute, and evil. Kind of wakes us up from visions of flowers and candle-light dinners.
On Valentine's Day we tend to focus on romantic feelings we have when we first fall in love. It is certainly of some value within a relationship to attempt to recall those feelings and to remember why we fell in love in the first place. However, there is a deeper love that has little to do with butterflies in the tummy.
After the butterflies subside, new feelings set in:
irritation, anger, hurt...
oh, wait, and deep abiding love.
Seriously though, there will be days when our primary feelings will not be warm and fuzzy. This is where true love comes in. Love is about what we do more than what we feel. If we acted only upon our feelings, no relationship would last long. Love is about kissing your spouse and saying "I love you" even when you feel like wringing his/ her neck.
The gospel raises the bar even higher, calling us to act in a loving way even when we are persecuted. That does not mean being a doormat but rather acting in a way that resists evil through self-sacrificial love that benefits all people. This self-sacrificial love seems appropriate to ponder on a day named after martyrs.
Take a moment to read the fifth chapter of Matthew as you think about Valentine's Day this week. It will make all the ooey-gooey mushy stuff more palatable and perhaps even redeem the day for those whose life circumstance make them want to scream at the very sight of red and pink hearts. Been there. You have my sympathies.
For those of us more fortunate at the moment, go ahead and bring back those fun exciting feelings of romance and love. But then give your loved one a kiss, not because of those emotions, but as a promise to act in a loving way even when the primary emotion of the moment is seething anger or deep seated irritation. That makes a Valentine's Day worth celebrating.
On Valentine's Day we tend to focus on romantic feelings we have when we first fall in love. It is certainly of some value within a relationship to attempt to recall those feelings and to remember why we fell in love in the first place. However, there is a deeper love that has little to do with butterflies in the tummy.
After the butterflies subside, new feelings set in:
irritation, anger, hurt...
oh, wait, and deep abiding love.
Seriously though, there will be days when our primary feelings will not be warm and fuzzy. This is where true love comes in. Love is about what we do more than what we feel. If we acted only upon our feelings, no relationship would last long. Love is about kissing your spouse and saying "I love you" even when you feel like wringing his/ her neck.
The gospel raises the bar even higher, calling us to act in a loving way even when we are persecuted. That does not mean being a doormat but rather acting in a way that resists evil through self-sacrificial love that benefits all people. This self-sacrificial love seems appropriate to ponder on a day named after martyrs.
Take a moment to read the fifth chapter of Matthew as you think about Valentine's Day this week. It will make all the ooey-gooey mushy stuff more palatable and perhaps even redeem the day for those whose life circumstance make them want to scream at the very sight of red and pink hearts. Been there. You have my sympathies.
For those of us more fortunate at the moment, go ahead and bring back those fun exciting feelings of romance and love. But then give your loved one a kiss, not because of those emotions, but as a promise to act in a loving way even when the primary emotion of the moment is seething anger or deep seated irritation. That makes a Valentine's Day worth celebrating.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Dementia: Melting the boundaries
There are many things in this world that make me wonder what a loving God could possibly be thinking. One of those things is dementia. I don't like that word. It sounds too close to demented which seems a label for serial killers not innocent victims of a disease. Dementia, Alzheimers, whatever one calls it, why would a loving God allow such suffering to be?
In my experience, those with dementia are often confused by time and identity. The when's in life roll in and out like the tide, though not as predictably. Sometimes those suffering from this disease know who and when they are and other times they fade back to the past or simply become confused not being able to find a touchstone to tell them when they are at all. It is also difficult to remember the who's of life: are you my daughter? my sister? my mother? What is your name again? The pain that this brings to those suffering from dementia and their loved ones flares so brightly I can rarely bare to look at it. It seems so wrong that these things that are so basic to our living and our relationships could be taken away.
Is there any way such a horrific disease could fit into the plans of a loving God? As I read about quantum physics, I am beginning to learn (though not to understand) that time is not as linear as we once thought. Time is much more fluid. And there are hints that perhaps identity is not so set and individualistic as we would think either. Field theory suggest that particles are connected by fields, that they are not just individual particles but parts of a field. Some scientists go one to theorize that the entire universe is in some sense one. Perhaps one might say each particle, person and so on is a part of one body. Sounds familiar doesn't it?
In a sense then people with dementia might be moving toward an awareness that time and individualism are only our current understanding. Perhaps there will come a day for all of us, as we pass from this life to the next, when we see time and identity as part of a much larger whole. This does not change the painful nature of dementia but perhaps makes it seem less a stripping away of all that matters and more of a melting of boundaries in preparation for a new reality.
It's not that I believe that this is true. I realize it is nothing more than my half-hazard way of trying to explain the inexplicable. But if I can conceive an idea that begins to make sense of something so horrific, then my heart begins to hope. My heart begins to open to the possibility, maybe even the belief that what God is up to must be so much more profound, so much more healing to our every agony, so much more satisfying to the longings of our souls than I could ever imagine. God, let it be so.
Someday we will see face to face and the longings of our hearts will be satisfied. Until that day, what can we do? We can bring our questions to God with as much honesty as our tremulous hearts can muster. We can pray for the victims of dementia. We can care for these victims with love and compassion and pray for forgiveness when we fail to do so. We can use our resources, including prayer, to work toward a cure. And we can hope in a God whose love is deeper and wider than we could possibly comprehend.
In my experience, those with dementia are often confused by time and identity. The when's in life roll in and out like the tide, though not as predictably. Sometimes those suffering from this disease know who and when they are and other times they fade back to the past or simply become confused not being able to find a touchstone to tell them when they are at all. It is also difficult to remember the who's of life: are you my daughter? my sister? my mother? What is your name again? The pain that this brings to those suffering from dementia and their loved ones flares so brightly I can rarely bare to look at it. It seems so wrong that these things that are so basic to our living and our relationships could be taken away.
Is there any way such a horrific disease could fit into the plans of a loving God? As I read about quantum physics, I am beginning to learn (though not to understand) that time is not as linear as we once thought. Time is much more fluid. And there are hints that perhaps identity is not so set and individualistic as we would think either. Field theory suggest that particles are connected by fields, that they are not just individual particles but parts of a field. Some scientists go one to theorize that the entire universe is in some sense one. Perhaps one might say each particle, person and so on is a part of one body. Sounds familiar doesn't it?
In a sense then people with dementia might be moving toward an awareness that time and individualism are only our current understanding. Perhaps there will come a day for all of us, as we pass from this life to the next, when we see time and identity as part of a much larger whole. This does not change the painful nature of dementia but perhaps makes it seem less a stripping away of all that matters and more of a melting of boundaries in preparation for a new reality.
It's not that I believe that this is true. I realize it is nothing more than my half-hazard way of trying to explain the inexplicable. But if I can conceive an idea that begins to make sense of something so horrific, then my heart begins to hope. My heart begins to open to the possibility, maybe even the belief that what God is up to must be so much more profound, so much more healing to our every agony, so much more satisfying to the longings of our souls than I could ever imagine. God, let it be so.
Someday we will see face to face and the longings of our hearts will be satisfied. Until that day, what can we do? We can bring our questions to God with as much honesty as our tremulous hearts can muster. We can pray for the victims of dementia. We can care for these victims with love and compassion and pray for forgiveness when we fail to do so. We can use our resources, including prayer, to work toward a cure. And we can hope in a God whose love is deeper and wider than we could possibly comprehend.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
The Super Bowl
The Super Bowl is almost here! Usually, this is not something that excites me a whole lot. This year, however, I have a couple of reasons to look at the Super Bowl with new perspective.
First of all, I set out one day to find a Super Bowl devotion for our Sunday School Class. I didn't have much luck. I did find a few who tried to put the game into a faith perspective. I found some who discussed the horrendous amount of money involved in the Super Bowl and our call to resist such materialism. I found sugary analogies likening the excitement of the event to the excitement of seeing the second coming of Christ. These did not appeal to me.
I certainly acknowledge the horrendous amount of money that is invested in the Super Bowl. This is a factor not to be ignored. It opens up opportunities to talk to our children about advertising, materialism and making sure our lives are instructed by the affect our actions have upon our neighbors. Surely, we adults also need to reflect upon how we spend our money. Perhaps we should consider fair trade beer and locally grown buffalo wings. Don't go looking for your local herd of buffalo, though, they are made out of chicken. (Sorry, couldn't resist.)
There are downsides to the Super Bowl for sure. While I acknowledge these things, and the violent nature of the sport, I also believe the day can be a celebration of time together with family and friends. Anyone who has ever had a sibling and any member of the testosterone endowed gender knows that pummeling someone and loving fun can go hand in hand. A little good natured roughhousing can be good for family togetherness. But it is safer if we leave it to the professionals. I think watching these professionals scuffle with each other can be good for us. Here is a form of entertainment that crosses generational boundaries. All ages can enjoy the game, and the food, and... some of the beverages.
There is immense value in spending time with those we love. It is in such relationships that we come closest to understanding the unity to which scriptures speak (see 1 Corinthians 12 and Romans 12). When we care deeply for each other our dreams, our futures, our happiness become clearly interdependent. I cannot dream dreams for myself without also imagining how those happenings would affect my husband and my children. It is difficult to imagine success or joy without imagining sharing that joy with friends and family. All that we do and all that we dream is intertwined. In reality this unity is woven throughout all of God's creation. But it is most obvious to us within our loving relationships. What better way to spend some time together and grow this sense of unity then by watching players work together toward a common goal. Admittedly this idealistic picture is a bit tainted by the fact that the common goal is to trounce the other team.
Which brings me to the second reason I am seeing the Super Bowl in a new light this year: I actually know someone who will be participating. Therefore, I am acutely aware this year that each of those players is someone's husband, brother, father, friend, son, or grandson. While I definitely have a team I am rooting for this year, I have deeper concerns. I pray that while the players may of necessity be forced to lambaste each other, they will do so while respecting their opponents and desiring only to stop the ball not to harm. I pray for the safety of all involved in the game as well as the spectators and fans. May this game also show a new level of sportsmanship in which players do not call attention to themselves following their successes but with all humility simply return to their team for celebration, acknowledging that no one can accomplish anything of value alone. May we all enjoy some good family fun without indulging in any extreme gluttony, remembering that we are all part of one unity. What we do, even how we play a game or watch a game, affects the world around us in ways we cannot begin to understand. Let us celebrate that unity even while we earnestly hope that our team will reign triumphant over that other team. Isn't irony fun? Go Packers!
First of all, I set out one day to find a Super Bowl devotion for our Sunday School Class. I didn't have much luck. I did find a few who tried to put the game into a faith perspective. I found some who discussed the horrendous amount of money involved in the Super Bowl and our call to resist such materialism. I found sugary analogies likening the excitement of the event to the excitement of seeing the second coming of Christ. These did not appeal to me.
I certainly acknowledge the horrendous amount of money that is invested in the Super Bowl. This is a factor not to be ignored. It opens up opportunities to talk to our children about advertising, materialism and making sure our lives are instructed by the affect our actions have upon our neighbors. Surely, we adults also need to reflect upon how we spend our money. Perhaps we should consider fair trade beer and locally grown buffalo wings. Don't go looking for your local herd of buffalo, though, they are made out of chicken. (Sorry, couldn't resist.)
There are downsides to the Super Bowl for sure. While I acknowledge these things, and the violent nature of the sport, I also believe the day can be a celebration of time together with family and friends. Anyone who has ever had a sibling and any member of the testosterone endowed gender knows that pummeling someone and loving fun can go hand in hand. A little good natured roughhousing can be good for family togetherness. But it is safer if we leave it to the professionals. I think watching these professionals scuffle with each other can be good for us. Here is a form of entertainment that crosses generational boundaries. All ages can enjoy the game, and the food, and... some of the beverages.
There is immense value in spending time with those we love. It is in such relationships that we come closest to understanding the unity to which scriptures speak (see 1 Corinthians 12 and Romans 12). When we care deeply for each other our dreams, our futures, our happiness become clearly interdependent. I cannot dream dreams for myself without also imagining how those happenings would affect my husband and my children. It is difficult to imagine success or joy without imagining sharing that joy with friends and family. All that we do and all that we dream is intertwined. In reality this unity is woven throughout all of God's creation. But it is most obvious to us within our loving relationships. What better way to spend some time together and grow this sense of unity then by watching players work together toward a common goal. Admittedly this idealistic picture is a bit tainted by the fact that the common goal is to trounce the other team.
Which brings me to the second reason I am seeing the Super Bowl in a new light this year: I actually know someone who will be participating. Therefore, I am acutely aware this year that each of those players is someone's husband, brother, father, friend, son, or grandson. While I definitely have a team I am rooting for this year, I have deeper concerns. I pray that while the players may of necessity be forced to lambaste each other, they will do so while respecting their opponents and desiring only to stop the ball not to harm. I pray for the safety of all involved in the game as well as the spectators and fans. May this game also show a new level of sportsmanship in which players do not call attention to themselves following their successes but with all humility simply return to their team for celebration, acknowledging that no one can accomplish anything of value alone. May we all enjoy some good family fun without indulging in any extreme gluttony, remembering that we are all part of one unity. What we do, even how we play a game or watch a game, affects the world around us in ways we cannot begin to understand. Let us celebrate that unity even while we earnestly hope that our team will reign triumphant over that other team. Isn't irony fun? Go Packers!
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