Cornered Wild Beasts

The lectionary Gospel reading for last Sunday was Jesus’ parable of the dishonest manager (Luke 16:1-13). In my lectio divina, I puzzled over why Jesus told this peculiar story. Though the lectionary and I have moved on to the story of the rich man and Lazarus, the dishonest manager lingered in my mind. I wondered if it might be a metaphor for how we humans respond when cornered by consequences of our own behavior.

I am still pondering how Jesus ended that with a line often quoted out of context that almost seems more suited to the story of the rich man and Lazarus. “No slave can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth.” (v. 13)

Then I was encountered by this from the Epistle reading for this coming Sunday from 1 Timothy 6:9-10. “Those who want to be rich fall into temptation and are trapped by many senseless and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil, and in their eagerness to be rich some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pains.”

Though none of this happened by design when the lectionary was developed, I was struck by the juxtaposition with my Psalm prayers today from 52:6-7. “The righteous will see, and fear, and will laugh at the evildoer, saying, ‘See the one who would not take refuge in God, but trusted in abundant riches, and sought refuge in wealth!’”

 

Am I Ripening?

I was not quite 25 when I began my monthly prayer cycle through the Psalms. When I came to Psalm 25:7, “Do not remember the sins of my youth,” I naïvely thought I could leave the sins of my immaturity behind as I crossed this boundary into adulthood. Then on the 25^th of each month I would rehearse with God foolish things that now embarrass me. By the time I reached 40, when I finally felt I was recognized as a real adult, I had to come to terms with the persistence of my immaturity, so I mentally raised the age of “sins of my youth” to 40. Since then every month I feel this urge to raise the age when I should be past the sins of my youth. Later this week I will turn 76 and recognize the continuum of my life for three-quarters of a century. Since “retiring” from called pastorates in 2011, and becoming caregiver for my wife Candy on her Alzheimer’s journey in 2016, my focus is shifting from regrets over the past and longings to preserve my youth to pondering how to live out the life of Christ in intimacy with God on this homestretch of my life.

 Each month Psalm 71:9,18 and 92:12-14 nourish this pondering. “Do not cast me off in the time of old age; do not forsake me when my strength is spent. … Even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to all the generations to come. … The righteous flourish like the palm tree, and grow like a cedar in Lebanon. They are planted in the house of the Lord; they flourish in the courts of our God. In old age they still produce fruit; they are always green and full of sap.” The image of producing fruit in old age is very different from the energy of either youth or prime years. It speaks of ripening, which was the focus of Richard Rohr’s meditation yesterday from the Center for Action and Contemplation. A Ripening Mind and Heart — Center for Action and Contemplation (cac.org) I will be pondering this in greater depth for some time.

 

I Am Not My Own

The Heidelberg Catechism is not widely known outside of Reformed theological circles, and even there other creedal statements are higher profile. In the 1980s I found a significant anchor to go with my life metaphor of living in tents (Hebrews 11:9). In the 1990s I added it to the Jesus Prayer (“Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner” based on Luke 18:13) as a focus for my centering prayer. These two keep circulating continuously in my mind and heart which have served as reliable compass for my journey with Jesus. Recently, when there seems to be so much emphasis on people clamoring to claim “what is mine,” I am reminded that even I am not my own.

My only comfort in life and in death is that I am not my own, but belong - body and soul, in life and in death - to my faithful Savior Jesus Christ. Heidelberg Catechism Q&A 1

Calling Conservatives to Character

 If any of the assorted and even mutually exclusive movements aspiring to fly the conservative banner have any hope of recovering even a modicum of integrity, I believe they will have to put a high profile emphasis on character. I am not so naïve as to think this is the road to political success. Character seems not to have broad public appeal.

 As a starting place, I suggest the last chapter of David Brooks’ 2015 book The Road to Character. I actually believe the whole book is worth reading with some care, but what he calls “The Humility Code” (pp. 261 ff) captures what seems to me to be urgently needed, probably not just in so-called conservative circles. To be fair, I have plenty of political disagreements with David Brooks, but I do believe he is thoughtful and principled and a conservative voice that should be heeded by those who consider themselves conservatives. Though I probably don’t think of myself in those terms, I did find his book instructive and valuable. Though he does not write of his own faith, and I make no assumptions about it, he does use what seems to me to be theological and maybe even spiritual language that might be beneficial for conversation beyond my purpose here.

 I hope I may stimulate a least a few people to read that chapter if not the whole book. I will briefly highlight each of the fifteen principles of this “Humility Code” in hopes of stimulating thinking and even conversation, and perhaps enticing enough to get a few people to read the chapter if not the whole book.

1. We don’t live for happiness, we live for holiness.
2. The long road to character begins with an accurate understanding of our nature, and the core of that understanding is that we are flawed creatures.
3.  Although we are flawed creatures, we are also splendidly endowed.  … There is something heroic about a person in struggle with herself, strained on the rack of conscience, suffering torments, yet staying alive and growing stronger, sacrificing a worldly success for the sake on an inner victory.
4.  Humility is the greatest virtue.
5. Pride is the central vice.
6. The struggle against sin and for virtue is the central drama of life.
7. Character is built in the course of your inner confrontation.
8. The things we call character endure over the long term – courage, honesty, humility. People with character are capable of a long obedience in the same direction.
9.  No person can achieve self-mastery on his or her own. … Everybody needs redemptive assistance from outside – from God, family, friends, ancestors, rules, traditions, institutions, and exemplars.
10. The struggle against weakness often has a U shape. … The shape is advance-retreat-advance.
11. Defeating weakness often means quieting the self.
12. Wisdom starts with epistemological modesty.
13. No good life is possible unless it is organized around vocation.  … If you serve work that is intrinsically compelling and focus on just being excellent at that, you will wind up serving yourself and the community,
14. The best leader … prefers arrangements that are low and steady to those that are lofty and heroic.
15. The person who successfully struggles against weakness and sin may or may not become rich and famous, but that person will become mature.

Confession is Good for More than the Soul

 In my Psalm prayers today, 32:3-5 really stood out to me.

While I kept silence, my body wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was dried up as by the heat of summer. Then I acknowledged my sin to you, and I did not hide my iniquity; I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the Lord,” and you forgave the guilt of my sin.

As I reflected on this, I thought about 1 John 1:8-10.

If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say that we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us.

Bringing these two paragraphs alongside each other got me thinking about the benefits of confessing, acknowledging, owning up to our sins, faults, mistakes.

Psalm 32 casts it in terms of inner peace, which may be the most compelling incentive for confession. However, we all know people who seem to have no apparent internal conscience or moral compass. When we are honest with God and ourselves, we know we have faults below the threshold of awareness, so we pray Psalm 19:12, Who can detect their errors? Clear me from hidden faults."

While relentless self deprecation is not healthy, as David prayed in Psalm 51:12 "Restore to me the joy of your salvation." Being open about our shortcomings opens us to learning and growth and signals that strength to others. Confession is essential to being recognized as worthy of trust in relationships and public life. By way of contrast, those who refuse confession and correction let others know not to trust them.

River of God's Delights

Psalm 37:4 says, "Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart." If delighting in the Lord is the desire of your heart, you will receive His presence. This matches what Jesus said in Matthew 3:8, "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God." In his book "Purity of Heart is to Will One Thing," Soren Kierkegaard observed that purity in this sense is not so much about piety or morality as it is the purity of having only one thing in your heart - seeing God. When seeing God is the only thing you want, you will see God. This also matches what Jesus told Martha in Luke 10:42, "There is need of only one thing." Or as Jesus put it in Luke 11:34 (KJV) "When thine eye is single, thy whole body also is full of light." So, regardless of what our culture says, glorifying God is not dour but intimacy with God is the spring of water gushing up to eternal life (John 4:14). I love the imagery of Psalm 36:7-9. "How precious is your steadfast love, O God! All people may take refuge in the shadow of your wings. They feast on the abundance of your house, and you give them drink from the river of your delights. For with you is the fountain of life; in your light we see light."

Mine, Mine, Mine!

On bright, sunny days like today, my wife Candy often sings Heavenly Sunshine, that ends with “hallelujah! Jesus is mine.” Sometimes that triggers the ditty “Mine, mine, mine. Jesus is only mine.” Then she will grimace and cringe at such blatant self-centeredness. Now with her Alzheimer’s she is almost completely unaware of current happenings with no idea of the issues swirling around Donald Trump, but the irony of his assertion that the files he took from the White House are “not theirs but mine,” points to our human propensity for self-focus.

Besides Jesus’ repeated emphasis on humility and service, 1 Corinthians is clear the folly of claiming anything as “mine.”  “What do you have that you did not receive? And if you received it, why do you boast as if it were not a gift? “ (4:7) “do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, which you have from God, and that you are not your own?” (6:19)

For about 40 years I have found a personal anchor in the first answer of the Heidelberg Catechism. “My only comfort in life and in death is that I am not my own but belong body and soul, in life and in death to my faithful savior Jesus Christ.”