New Year’s Day Reflections—or The Eighth Day of Christmas

New Year’s Day Reflections—or The Eighth Day of Christmas

I woke up today with an odd assortment of things running through my heart and mind. Thankfully, my vow to abstain from alcohol gives me a wondering spirit instead of a hangover on this New Year’s Day. But I must confess that the numbing effect of alcohol might be preferred to full consciousness when it comes to a fresh tragedy.

Yesterday, one of our Trevecca professors lost a grandson. Marvin’s daughter, son-in-law, and twin boys were sitting still at a stop sign on a city street when a vehicle driven by an 82-year-old woman plowed into them from behind going 90. One of the twin boys, age 6, was killed and the other is in serious condition. The surviving twin has autism.

Both parents are in the hospital with serious injuries. Marvin lost his wife to a long cancer battle a couple of years ago. Yesterday he lost a grandson. We talked about his journey through Advent and Christmas in the church parking lot a couple of weeks ago. He said the music was helping him this year. And now this. I know few finer men than Marvin. I ache in ways that can only pray in groans.

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Fletcher and the Nepal Earthquake

Fletcher and the Nepal Earthquake

As Nepal was being rocked by an earthquake, my Twitter and Facebook became the early alert system to me.  Each buzz of a new post reminded me how the world has changed. I used to go looking for the news. Now the news comes looking for me. A vibrating phone tells me something is happening somewhere in the world. News is now a fast chaser of humans.

My friend Fletcher Tink was in Nepal, in the middle of a sermon from Acts, when the quake hit. I followed his account of escaping the buildings, ongoing tremors, sleeping outdoors, getting food and health care, and watching humanity wax kind. The Nepal earthquake reminded me of more than fast news. It reminded me that God is present in the middle of any tragedy—and that our brothers and sisters are there whether we know their names or not. Knowing Fletcher, I am assured that God will be named and present in the suffering. He finished his sermon in the street as others joined them.

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Provoking God

Provoking God

Do you know how to provoke a response? My wife does. If she’s talking and I’m not listening, she turns toward the wall and says, “Why thank you, Wall. It’s so enjoyable to converse with you today. I delight in these one-way conversations.” She’s provoking a response.

We find good company in Psalm 77. Someone is provoking God to respond to their dark, desperate situation. It begins with an emotive gush:

I yell out to my God, I yell with all my might, I yell at the top of my lungs. I found myself in trouble and went looking for my Lord; my life was an open wound that wouldn’t heal. When friends said, ‘Everything will turn out all right,’ I didn’t believe a word they said.” (The Message)

What’s the problem? We don’t know. That’s what I like about these lament psalms – they are fill-in-the-blank-prayers. I can insert my own trouble. And we have plenty, don’t we?

  • Loss of people we love
  • A cutback at work
  • Shrinking 401C
  • Alzheimer’s
  • Moving to a town you hate
  • A kid going bad
  • A business going under
  • A deep loneliness
  • A painful memory that camps on the front door of our consciousness
  • A marriage getting uglier by the day
  • A checkbook bleeding red
  • A relationship that ended when we didn’t want it to

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God, Suffering, and Tornadoes

God, Suffering, and Tornadoes

In my last post, I introduced our topic of God and suffering with regard to this week’s deadly tornadoes. Go back and read that here if you haven’t already.

And now, for Part 2 of “The Danger of Explaining Tornadoes”:

Joseph Cardinal Bernardin wrote a God-anointed book in the last days of his battle with the cancer that claimed his life. In it he wrote:

Whenever we are with people who suffer, it frequently becomes evident that there is very little we can do to help them. … The reason this is so frustrating is that we like to be ‘fixers.’ We want not only to control our own destiny, but also that of others.

My experiences with those who have suffered tell me that it is cruel to interpret their suffering via our explanations. I think Cardinal Bernardin was right. We know we do not have control of our friend’s suffering and therefore, neither do we have control over our own impending future. The security of our hedge-theology is in question.

We must be merciful to those fixers who have not suffered. Their cause and effect faith has gotten them where they are. They are enjoying their health, homes, jobs, business success, educational attainments, and reputable friends. They accept all this as a gift of God – which it is. They believe it to be either the wink of God’s approval on their righteousness, or a blessing with no other explanation but God.

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School Stabbings, Malaysian Planes, Washington Mudslides, and God

School Stabbings, Malaysian Planes, Washington Mudslides, and God

A community is trying to make sense today of a student’s vicious stabbing rampage in a Pennsylvania high school’s hallways yesterday morning.

The people of Malaysia are hoping that a faint ping from the Indian Ocean will locate their missing loved ones who boarded a plane on March 8.

A mudslide recently in Washington mudslide brought swift death and destruction on a calm day.

The people of New Orleans can tell you stories about the destructive power of water. A raging hurricane named Katrina collapsed dams, washed away levies, and overran sandbags. Every hedge of protection set up against the tide was futile. It took everything in its path and sent wise people in search of higher ground.

What do we do when the hedge of protection that separates us from disaster is removed? And is there even a hedge? We are confronted with a 24-hour news cycle that keeps announcing bad things happening to seemingly good people. How do Christians speak of God in these moments?

Job’s Story

A good starting place might be the story of Job. You might say that his plane went down, a mudslide hit him, and a hurricane came crashing in. According to the story, it was God who moved the hedge and let it happen. But that is not the end of the story.

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When Work Is a Pain

When Work Is a Pain

If you want to make promises that hard work yields great reward, Proverbs is the goldmine of texts. But it is not the only voice that speaks into the workplace. The Old Testament story of Job is a dissenting voice to wisdom.

Job did everything he was supposed to do and lost it all. Some have suggested that Job was written as protest to the simplified proverbs promising that if we do “a” we will get “b.” Sometimes we do what is right and suffer for it.

Job’s friends all had Ph.D.’s in wisdom but were declared by God to be dead wrong.  Suffice it to say there is no divine guarantee that if we do the right things we will get the results we want. There is rogue suffering in our world. And sometimes our vocation finds us right in the middle of it.

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Sandy Hook Tragedy—One Year Later

Sandy Hook Tragedy—One Year Later

Our child-happy Christmas was violated last year on December 14 by the brutal murder of children in Sandy Hook Elementary School. The world will not be glued to the television in the same way this weekend, but we will pause in many ways to remember the tragedy.

Last year I shared this on my Facebook page:

We are all in disbelieving pain over the darkness of Sandy Hook Elementary School. Rational people believe there are answers that explain why people do evil things. But the very definition of evil is chaos – irrational darkness in which nothing holds together and everything keeps falling apart. No one can “explain” evil, but I do believe God is to be found where evil occurs because God has not abandoned creation.

Across the nation on the Sunday following the tragedy, pastors preached from the biblical text of Herod slaughtering the innocents of Bethlehem. The word many people use to describe this kind of world is “godless.” I suppose this is because God seems far away. But maybe God is most present where evil does its killing.

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Alzheimer’s and Advent

Alzheimer’s and Advent

This is her last night in her home of the past 46 years. Tomorrow morning she will be lovingly escorted to the East McComb Nursing Home where the last chapter of her life will begin. None of us knows how long or short that chapter will be. Dad is 86, in relatively good health, and tired. He has cared for her as long as he could. Tonight he will sleep with her. Tomorrow night he will sleep by himself, alone for the first time in 60 years.

His questions have been fair. Why? Why her? Why now? Why this? Mom has spent her life in service to God and the church – pianist, church treasurer, Sunday school teacher, and maker of Kool-Aid for 60 years’ worth of Vacation Bible Schools. Couldn’t have happened to a finer woman, but it did happen to her. Dad’s prayers, which have moved mountains across decades, did not budge this one. Alzheimer’s came, and kept on coming.

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