Burdens

. . . you laid heavy burdens upon our backs. 

 - From Psalm 66

Why would God allow evil to happen on the earth?

I think that the answer might be found in Psalm 66. This notion of God "allowing" this or that evil to happen, is addressed right here. It seems almost entirely to be about the bad things happening to the author. We think of Psalms as being all about praising God for all the good things He has done. We worship Him for the Good and Loving God that He is. 

But here, the psalmist (maybe David) lists a set of bad things that happened to him, and thanks God. In the sample above, "You laid heavy burdens upon our backs," he treats it as though even that is a good thing.

Thank you, Lord, for providing for me, taking care of me, healing me, helping me, blessing me. 

Thank you, Lord, for these struggles. Thank you for the sadness, for the down times. Thank you for the burdens up our backs.

Have you ever had a sore back? Who hasn't? It gets in the way of your entire day. It makes things difficult to do; it makes it hard to enjoy the moment; perhaps more so, than aches and pains anywhere else. The back is the hub of your entire body. If it hurts, everything hurts. 

But God puts something heavy upon it, that we have to lug around. When we're done lugging, we will have a backache for a few days or more. 

But the Psalmist is happy for it. 

Why does God allow evil on the earth? 

Maybe because He expects you to do something about it!

There's a lonely, angry little boy living within a quarter mile of you. His mom has to work, and his Dad is completely out of the picture. He is a very gifted soccer player, but his mother cannot afford it. He has no supervision. Nobody, except his weary mother, gives a rip about him. 

Why do you allow this to happen?

(And don't give me politics, taxes, government programs, social services, and bumper stickers. I asked, what are you going to do about it?)

God allows the sunny, warm day. He also allows the cold, rainy night. 

Thanks be to God. 

Your Own

. . . as even some of your own poets have said . . . 

 - From Acts 17

The Apostle Paul connected with people. He found a way, some way, any way, to find common ground with others, so that he could witness to them and build God's kingdom. And he was able to do this, so often, without violating some fundamental commandment of God. He did not become drunk, in order to relate to alcoholics. He didn't become a fornicator, in order to empathize with hedonists. He didn't start lying everywhere, in order to build solidarity with most of the rest of us. 

He simply befriended others. He sat down with them. Had coffee with them. Listened to them. Noticed them.

People only do those other things (fornicate, drink, use vulgar words, lie, etc) because they need someone to notice them, to treat them, (even if in a phony way) as though they mattered. 

It has been said that, if you're feeling lonely, a bar is a better place for you, than a church. And this sounds harsh, but it's probably mostly true. People need to relax today, to let go. To have a moment of laughter, or even of human touch of the most base variety. They might do almost anything to attain it. 

A friend of mine, that had been raised pentecostal, recently shared with me that she has visited a Catholic church. She is not a catholic. Many of their practices are near anathema to her. But she described her need to be where God is taken seriously, and worldliness is resisted. And so far, only the Catholics seem to be taking much, in the spiritual realm, at all seriously. 

She is going where she can connect, where the people seem sincere, where the word of God is taken seriously. And where the Kingdom can grow. She found that, of all of the beliefs she finds most critical in our times, at least in a Catholic Church she will be accepted. It can be a safe place, away from so many mainstream churches that are more interested in being "accessible" to "seekers."

At any rate. We must put all of that aside, and learn to just . . . accept . . . others. 

I say it again: listen to them. Treat them like they matter. Notice them.

That would be worth a million examples of having the right doctrine, or performing the right rituals. 

He Will

If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.

 - From John 14

We have another troublesome passage here, like the one that caused my friend (described a couple of posts ago) to lose his faith, almost entirely. 

Jesus has just promised Philip, and the rest of the Apostles, that He would do whatever they asked, if they did so in His name. And today, people will say "I've asked Jesus to do things for me, my entire life, in His name. He almost NEVER gives me what I asked."

Well, there are a couple of ways to look at this. Jesus may have been making the promise to The Twelve (or perhaps, just the Eleven - after removing Matthias from the list) only. And the biblical record is replete with examples of the Apostles, in the first generation of the Church, doing greater miracles than even Jesus Himself. This is an easy way to get around this particular problem.

An objection may come up: "Why didn't they ask Jesus to prevent all illness from ever afflicting all of humanity, ever again?" Maybe they did.

Or how about: "In the Name of Jesus, I ask the Lord to make His return right now!"

The possibilities are endless. Why didn't even one of them make such a request to the Lord?

Again, maybe they did. Which was obviously answered, at the time, as "NO."

Or perhaps the Apostles, being so close to Christ, had developed His sense of being rather loathe to do too many miracles. When you think about it, life really would not be so great if everybody went around with access to total omnipotence, manipulating nature (including other people) to bend to their every whim. Life would be boring if we never had opportunities to learn, to change, to grow. 

This present Universe seems to be a training ground, where God is preparing us, via endless troubles and sorrows, to be ready for something infinitely wonderful. I mean, how would we know it's so wonderful, if we had never experienced devastation and loss?

The skilled skeptic will find none of my explanations persuasive. "Oh come on," they would say. And it would be logical for them to do so. 

There's an element of pure faith involved here. When Jesus says "I will do . . . " something . . . and we never see it in our lives; it is easy, (logical, actually) to conclude: "Jesus did not do what He said He would do."

At the time Jesus made the statement to Philip, he was already in place, in His eternal, glorified body. He had become an eternal being. He no longer occupied space in our temporal realm. When we say "I will," it's supposed to be something that everybody can count on. You have committed to doing something that, eventually, we will be able to look back and announce "it's done."

But what does it mean, when an eternal creature says "I will"? 

It means that, in His time and space, it's as good as done. "I will" can mean the same thing as "I have done." And this would be something very difficult for us to grasp, in our own limited, mortal lives. 

When Jesus says "I will," that doesn't mean we should put a time on Him. 

Pure

Like newborn infants, long for the pure, spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow into salvation— if indeed you have tasted that the Lord is good. 

 - From I Peter 2

There it is: Perhaps the most ignored, misused, under-appreciated, and yet fundamentally essential word (culturally) of our times.

Pure.

Although I eschew the very idea of church membership, nevertheless by default I am a member of the Dexter United Methodist Church. For years, many of us have observed that it is an excellent church to which to invite friends, family, and other seekers. 

It is a "safe" place to take them. The people of this church will not get in your face with faux kindness. They will give you space to get what you can from Scripture, without telling you what to think about it. They will invite you to participate, right away, if you're willing, into highly practical and relevant local or global ministries. There is a focus on serving the truly needy in our communities. 

The sermons and other teaching hew pretty close to what Peter is talking about - the spiritual "milk" which is perfect for the developing bodies of newborns. We live our lives, probably, closer to newborns in the Christian walk, than to seasoned elders. 

Milk will always be right for us. It's easy on the stomach. It requires very little active breaking down, on the part of the entire digestive system.

 . . . if it's pure. 

But if it's not pure - and a lot of the milk we buy from stores today isn't - we wind up with physical impairments. Spiritually, it's no different. What constitutes new, pure, spiritual milk for a new (or old) believer? Simply, the same stuff that drew you to Christ in the first place: kindness from others. Emphasis on our need for Christ, as He is the only path we have, to get beyond death (and isn't death the very essence of all of our problems?). 

But there's a lot more to the word "pure." Yes, pure is easy on the stomach. But it represents basic, well-rounded nutritional soundness that is good for all of our lives. Spiritual milk is all about love. But love is the hardest thing of all. Paul called it "The greatest" of all spiritual virtues. 

It is not easy to love. But real love represents the fullness of purity. 

As we go into situations today and in the weeks following, that challenge our faith; that attempt to draw us into bitter arguments, remember that our entire point is purity. And purity means, simply, love - real love. Godly love. Simple love. 

And pure love is the basic thing driving everything that we do. 

Ten Years Gone: The Difference Between the Testaments

 This entry was first published on Thursday, April 25, 2013