This Body of Death, Part 2

With the purchase of my last book Beauty in the Wreckage I offered a free bonus chapter. I have decided to make that bonus chapter available now as two blog posts. This is part two. Part one can be found here. Thank you so much for your continued prayers and support friends.

I am not one who has much affection for the King James Version of the Bible. It’s too hard to read and understand. But, on occasion, I go back to ole King James to see how a verse is translated. And I have been surprised quite a few times with my discoveries.

As a lover of Romans 8, I can almost tell you word for word what it says from memory. But there is some phrasing that most modern versions of the Bible surprisingly leave out, which I have recently uncovered in the King James Version. 

Verses 22-23 in the King James read like this, “For we know that the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now. And not only they, but ourselves also, which have the firstfruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting for the adoption, to wit, the redemption of our body.”

And if you don’t immediately see the beauty here, let me paint the picture for you.

All of creation, all of God’s good creation, brought into being by the loving and creative hand of God, is groaning and travailing. 

All of God’s good creation is crying out. 

All of God’s good creation is laboring through this painful experience. 

And it is not just every delicate blade of grass, every towering tree, every mighty body of water, every magnificent celestial body, and every beautifully diverse animal that runs across the land and swims in the sea, it is we too, God’s image bearers, God’s partners and caretakers, who join this collective chorus of pain and suffering, together, even while we embody and manifest the Spirit of God, a life of shalom.

It is not just that the King James Version rightly included both words, groaneth and travaileth, while other versions include just one of the words, it is that the King James Version uniquely says that we groan and travail together. 

I can’t underscore just how important this point is- we groan and cry out in this painful life experience together.

And that is the real beauty and insight of the text. The passage not only assumes that each one of us will experience and live through pain and suffering, it assumes that we will do it together.

That is why we should never be afraid to talk about what we are going through with others. That is why we should never have to suffer quietly or alone. That is why we should never have to hide in embarrassment or believe that no one else will understand.

Because we all suffer through this, together. 

Each one of us should be able to share the pain we are experiencing without judgment, condemnation, or questions about our faith, or lack of faith, in God. 

Each one of us should be able to be real about the stress, anxiety, and depression we are experiencing without being told that we simply need to read the Bible more or pray more, as if those things alone are the simple fixes to make everything go away. 

And each one of us should be able to be honest about our mental illnesses without feeling like a “lesser Christian.” 

The goal is not to be healed with enough faith. The goal is the journey of who we are becoming, in light of what we are suffering, in light of the pain we are experiencing, in light of what we are going through. 

And that is why you should never apologize for singing the praises of God in one breath, and groaning in the next.     

Because there is shalom in this fractured place. And we hold both together within us in hope.

I just attended the funeral of my 87-year old uncle who died with Parkinson’s disease. He had been a preacher almost as long as he had been alive. And the church he started was the same church I grew up in for the first 20 years of my life.

I probably didn’t agree with every doctrine of that church. And I didn’t necessarily agree with every nuance of their theology. But man, my uncle loved people. The love of the Christ radiated outward in his words and in his actions. He loved and cared for all of the people he knew and even people he didn’t know. He was one of the most loving people I have ever met. 

The amazing truth is that love can cover a multitude of differing doctrines and theologies, because it is all ultimately about how much we love God, love others, and love ourselves.

That he did. 

And it was a beautiful thing to hear all of the stories of how he loved. 

Even when his health was deteriorating, even when he was in pain, even when his body continued to tremor from his disease, he loved God and everyone around him. He lived in the wholeness of the Christ, he resided in the completeness of the Christ. And in this harmonious relationship with the Christ was the deep well of God’s goodness. It was his fullness and satisfaction, even while his body deteriorated and failed, even while his body deteriorated and failed.

That is what I want in my life.

I want to experience and share a love that transcends my broken body, that reaches down deep into the well of God’s goodness despite my pain and suffering. 

For it is in that place where we discover beauty, despite the wreckage.

God, we praise you for your goodness, but we also groan longingly, and hopefully, looking toward a future in which every tear will be wiped away, every heartache will be healed, and every burdened body will be lifted.

But for today, we groan and travail together, seeking the shalom of the Christ.

Even while these bodies exist in dysfunction, disability, debilitation, and disorder, we pray for your deep well of goodness to be our satisfaction. 

For when we are prospering, let us be satisfied in your fullness. And when we are in need, let us be satisfied in your fullness. 

For when we have plenty, let us be satisfied in your fullness. And when we are in want, let us be satisfied in your fullness.

For when we are well-fed, let us be satisfied in your fullness. And when we are hungry, let us be satisfied in your fullness.

For when our bodies are healthy and functional, let us be satisfied in your fullness. And when our bodies are unhealthy and broken, let us be satisfied in your fullness.

For when our minds are clear and balanced and thinking rightly, let us be satisfied in your fullness. And when our minds are cloudy and imbalanced and confused, let us be satisfied in your fullness.

Father, let us be patient, content, and joyful examples of what it looks like to bear the tension of our bodily pain and suffering, while becoming the wholeness, completeness, and harmony of your shalom. 

Let us experience and share your love that transcends our broken bodies.

Work in and through our every weakness, our every physical, mental, and emotional dysfunction, our every pain and through our suffering to reveal that which is eternal and valuable.

Amen.

Beauty in the Wreckage: Finding Peace in the Age of Outrage is available everywhere online in digital, audiobook, and paper versions. It is also available as a signed paperback at Viewpoint Bookstore.

Words of a Christian White Man

Growing up in church as a young boy I would occasionally hear people say, “If I make it to heaven one day I would be happy to be a doorman, just so long as I am there.”

The implication was that the joy of being in heaven would far outweigh even the lowliest position.

While the people who said this were unfortunately more concerned with the end goal of “making it to heaven one day,” they unknowingly stumbled onto something I think we need to revisit today in our churches… the desire to become humble, meek, and lowly servants.

While Jesus never gave any indication that a person ought to wait for the future to become a servant (or that becoming a servant is somehow a future consolation prize of heaven), he did have quite a bit to say about the importance of lowering ourselves and becoming humble in the present.

In fact, all of Jesus’ teachings were rooted in the idea that humility and weakness in the present actually brings heaven to earth. According to Jesus, there was something profoundly divine in the death of our ego, in dying to oneself, in taking on the character and disposition of a servant and lowering oneself below others.

Think about it.

Blessed are the poor in spirit.
Blessed are the meek.
Blessed are the merciful.
Blessed are the peacemakers.

When you give to the needy, do it in secret.
When you pray, do it behind closed doors.
When you fast, do not draw attention to yourself.
When you are invited to a banquet, do not take the place of honor, but take the lowest place.

Whoever is humble like a little child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.
Whoever sells their possession and gives to the poor will have treasure in heaven.
Whoever wants to become great must become a servant.
Whoever has been last will be made first.
Whoever humbles himself will be exalted.
Whoever is the least among you is the greatest.
Whoever wants to follow me must first pick up his cross daily.

For Jesus, the pathway toward greatness was always about humbly giving of oneself for the benefit of another without expecting accolades or special attention.

I know this kind of mindset is radically contrary to our Western mentality. Our culture and society are consumed by notions of ascent, status, and power. And these Western values have crept into our churches, even though they are antithetical to the actual teachings of Christ.

Yet Jesus’ words continue to beckon those who claim to follow him, not toward the wide road of ascent but the narrow path of descent, not toward the wide road status but the narrow path of humility, not toward the wide road power but the narrow path of weakness.

If you are wondering why I started in this place… here is the reason.

The wide road of ascent, status, and power perpetuate inequality and injustice, while the narrow path of descent, humility, and weakness are the foundational characteristics of reconciliation. And to the extent that churches pursue the former to the latter… they will never be effective at reconciliation.

I know that the word reconciliation is difficult to understand, but it is a word that every single Christian in the world ought to know better than anyone else.

Understanding and practicing reconciliation is absolutely essential for those who follow Jesus. One writer of the New Testament even says that followers of Jesus are to be servants of reconciliation. We sacrificially and voluntarily work on behalf of people, relationships, communities, and the larger world to help piece them back together and help restore them. But while reconciliation is an integral and essential responsibility of the Christian, I am not sure many understand what it is or how it ought to happen.

The word reconciliation (Greek katallage) means an adjustment of a difference, a restoration to favor.

Reconciliation is the patient work that removes hostility between people and God, between individuals, between people groups, and works to alleviate inequities in systems so that right relationships are restored.

As those who follow Jesus, it is obvious that we work to help restore people’s relationship with God. We hear that in our churches all the time. But it goes even further than that in how we are to humbly and selflessly work for reconciliation between people and within societal structures.

As Christians, when we see inequity and injustice (a difference in treatment, favor, or privilege), it is our responsibility to actively work on behalf of those who suffer injustice to make adjustments so that people and systems are restored and work rightly for all.

If you did not know it before, reconciliation is essential and absolutely paramount for anyone of any race who follows Jesus.

But for the white Christian… you and I especially have a huge responsibility in working for racial reconciliation in the United States.

When I look at the history of my black brothers and sisters in America, I see a system that created a difference in treatment, favor, and privilege. I see a system that created brokenness, hardship, and immense pain. I see a system that is still broken in many ways and has not been fixed or restored. I see a system that has not fully made adjustments in the difference.

I know you may be thinking that you personally did not create the problem and that you are not currently perpetuating racism. I understand. I have not personally owned slaves. I have not discriminated against people of color. I do not demean or dehumanize black people. Even more, like me, you would probably say that you have black friends.

But that is not the point.

As those who follow Jesus, we have been given the important and humble work of reconciliation. We have been given the responsibility of identifying differences and working to make them right. This is not a matter of opinion. This is literally the point of Christianity- to be reconciled to God and then to work for reconciliation in our relationships and communities.

But I have to tell you, reconciliation is impossible when your mind has already been made up about who is right and who is wrong and have already taken sides. It is impossible when you only care about preserving your own rightness and privilege. It is impossible when you refuse to see injustice and then lack empathy toward those who are suffering.

That is why so many white Christians in America have such a hard time working toward racial reconciliation. There is more interest in holding onto and preserving the Western values of ascent, status, and power than embodying the way of Jesus in descent, humility, and weakness.

If we were really serious about picking up our crosses daily and becoming servants of all, racial reconciliation would be one of the most essential tasks of the white Christian.

If we were really serious about picking up our crosses daily and becoming servants of all, we would be first in line asking our black brothers and sisters to forgive us for our past and present racism. (Again, you may say you didn’t personally cause the problem, but descent, humility, and weakness tells us that asking for forgiveness is the right thing since our ancestors are not here to do it for themselves).

If we were really serious about picking up our crosses daily and becoming servants of all, we would not just take a knee with our black brothers and sisters, we would wash their feet and then lie prostrate to the ground before God in remorse for what they have suffered in hopes of beginning to restore trust between us. (No one is asking you to take a knee or lie prostrate for the political organization #BlackLivesMatter. But for flesh and blood black people).

If we were really serious about picking up our crosses daily and becoming servants of all, we would tell every black man and woman we see that their lives matter and have immeasurable value. But it would not just be evident in our words, it would be evident in how we work to restore their communities with our time, energy, effort, and resources.

If we were really serious about picking up our crosses daily and becoming servants of all, we would begin working in the present for what we envision in the future when all is made right and all races live, work, eat, and worship together, while celebrating the God-given beauty and uniqueness of our cultures in peace and love.

The work of racial reconciliation is possible, but it must begin in humility and weakness, contrition and forgiveness. What does that look like for you as a white Christian? What does that look like for your all-white church? I would love to hear what you are thinking/doing in the comments.

Peace and love…

Brandon

What Really Matters

No one needs another opinion right now, right?

It seems as if social media has inadvertently made everyone an expert in politics, social issues, and now infectious diseases.

God bless us for our good intentions.

I am not interested so much in offering another opinion on our current global pandemic. I know my skill sets. I will instead leave that for those who actually spend their lives researching, doing clinical work, and treating patients. They are the ones to whom we should be listening right now. And we are grateful for the important work they do.

Many of us have studied the words of Father Richard Rohr over the years and have always come back to one of his most profound insights- that great love and great suffering have the ability to create the potential for spiritual listening and larger seeing. And it is along these pathways by which a person, a family, a community, or even a world may be transformed.

There is no question that we find it so much easier, and so much more desirable, to move along this pathway when it is by the means of great love.  Conversely, we have a much more difficult time discovering anything redeemable, or of value, when it is found down the road of great suffering. Suffering can very easily break us down and move us into a place with varying degrees of worry, anxiety, helplessness, or despair.

This isn’t a judgment on how any of us individually process suffering, or even a judgment on those who suffer emotionally or psychologically. Six weeks ago, I went to my family doctor because I was experiencing anxiety for the first time in my life. Changing variables in my work life had produced a tightness in my chest and a feeling of being strangled. Fortunately it wasn’t a heart attack, but the reality of how anxiety can consume a person and it was a real experience for me. So I truly understand how deeply situations and our mental health can deeply affect us.

But despite where we may be internally, learning to listen and see in our suffering, or choosing to be fully present in our suffering, there is always a continuous invitation of the Spirit open to everyone, all the time, even and especially to those who have been deeply affected at the physical, emotional, physiological, or even spiritual level.

So no matter who you are, where you have been, what trauma you have experienced, or what you are currently experiencing in your life, this invitation welcomes you into a safe and quiet space where you are allowed to breath and then patiently listen and see amidst your suffering.

But while many of you may already be suffering, the potential for greater suffering always exists, which will necessitate more safe spaces and more patient guides to walk with people through the chaos and along the path of suffering.

There is no question that closings and cancellations, limitations on social functions, the loss of business or savings plans, the loss of employment and mounting bills, and the potential hospitalization or death of loved ones who have been infected will all certainly create varying degrees of suffering among us.

You may know exactly what I am talking about right now.

But I wonder if in this suffering, we will begin to walk together, truly walk together, to discover opportunities to learn, serve, and be transformed, rather than be consumed by our collective despair and antipathy.

I wonder if we will be able to listen and see, not the canceling of events, large social gatherings, and other disruptions as personal assaults or attacks on our personal liberties and livelihoods, but as selfless moves we can all make together to protect our most vulnerable.

I wonder if we will be able to listen and see, not all of the services that have been disrupted or how we no longer have everything at our fingertips or how inconvenienced we have become in some things, but all of the great opportunities we have to come together and use our resources to help our brothers and sisters who have reduced hours, who have lost jobs, who are losing business, or who are having a hard time making ends meet.

I wonder if we will be able to listen and see, not all of the ugliness and divisiveness of politics and everything that works to divide us in our most difficult times, but all the ways we can unite without labels or affiliations to serve the greater good.

I wonder if we will be able to listen and see, not all of the ways we have been, or will soon be, isolated and quarantined from each other, but all of the ways we can still be with one another and creatively reach out to talk, encourage, pray for, or maybe even sing with one another, like our brothers and sisters in Italy.

I wonder if we will be able to listen and see, not lives with significantly limited options, isolated at home and on social media all day, but the opportunity to spend real face time with family around the table or to breathe fresh air in nature, while rediscovering our hearts and natural rhythm once again.

I wonder if we will be able to listen and see that this time is teaching us, through abstinence, to appreciate all the things we had previously taken for granted.

It’s true that not every experience of trauma or suffering can easily be diverted by perspective or prayer. We will have to endure the anguish and pain of some traumas and sufferings head on. But in even that, we will have hopefully learned that we are not alone in this thing and that we truly have each other. We will have come to the realization that there is so much goodness in our lives and we will see it differently moving forward. And maybe, just maybe, through this suffering, we may learn to see each other differently, to learn to respect each other despite our differences, and to uncover a humanity below the surface that we may have forgotten was there.

Walking with you in this,

Brandon