In Wisdom, He Shuts His Mouth

As God winds down this part of the lecture to Job, God asks for an answer.  But this man who is in the depths of grief, and has just about swallowed his own foot, remains silent:

Job 40:4, “I am unworthy—how can I reply to you? I put my hand over my mouth” (NIV).

I’m thinking about lament, as I prepare to write a commentary for another site, later this week, so there is likely to be a little bit of cross-over (fair warning).

Lament is comprised of multiple parts, and the thing that is so astounding about it is the tension between complaint and petition.  Lament is not ‘drama,’ and I think we need to consider how very important that is.  Lament is the vomiting of legitimate pain, remembering that it hasn’t always been this way and hoping that it won’t continue to be, asking God to be near and to bring some good about, and believing that God actually will.

That’s a preview of some of my upcoming thoughts about Jeremiah, but truthfully… Job’s not there yet.  So, in wisdom, he shuts his mouth.

There are times when I could have taken a page from that book!

I’m not suggesting that we shut down and become less transparent people, but there is an appropriate time for quiet reflection, and there’s certainly a time for listening.  In fact, we should probably spend more time listening than speaking!  I think this allows us to process the things that are happening in, through, around, and to us; and I think it makes for better solutions when we are ready to admit that life isn’t comprised of only the terrible thing that is happening right now. 

It’s the pause between the complaint and the remembering, between the complaint and the hoping.  Let’s not get stuck in the complaint, but let’s also give ourselves (and others) enough grace to breathe, in the face of tragedy.  It’s not a process that can be rushed.

L.

On Ostriches and Storks

Job 39:13-18, “The wings of the ostrich flap joyfully, though they cannot compare with the wings and feathers of the stork. She lays her eggs on the ground and lets them warm in the sand, unmindful that a foot may crush them, that some wild animal may trample them. She treats her young harshly, as if they were not hers; she cares not that her labor was in vain, for God did not endow her with wisdom or give her a share of good sense. Yet when she spreads her feathers to run, she laughs at horse and rider” (NIV).

Weird Scripture, right?

Right.

I heard a story about Ostrich eggs once, and I think I’m borrowing this from Len Sweet, whom I first heard speak in what now seems like a galaxy far away, about a zillion years ago.  It was actually Nashville, TN in 2003.

Parenting is on my mind, as we turn the corner toward Father’s Day, and, interestingly this year, the story of Abraham and Sarah and the birth of Isaac.  But I’m getting just a touch ahead of myself.

As it turns out, the Ostrich might not be the worst example of a mother.  Sure, she lays her eggs in the sand where she may forget where she left them; but at some point in history, the Ostrich developed an uncanny ability to keep one eye fixed on the egg while using the other to search for food.  Yay for frazzled, crazy eyed, insanely busy parents who would do anything to care for their babies and realize full-well that means they can’t just sit on them all day long!

We can’t all be storks!

But I want to be exceptionally careful here, because I am actually pretty upset about the shift back toward treating stay-at-home parents as if they don’t matter.  And let’s be real, the pendulum on this swings wildly.

I was a stay-at-home mama for almost 16 years.  Initially, it was because that was what I wanted.  I loved it.  And even though I never intended for this way of life to continue for that long, I am forever grateful to have had the opportunity to spend every waking (and sometimes sleeping) minute close to them, for years on end.

Some people have accused me of burying them in the sand and sitting on them, but whatever.  Even though I had no idea what I was doing at the beginning (just like every new parent), by the grace of God (or sheer luck… or something) it seems to have produced some fabulous people.

And then I realized, one day, that the eggs had hatched, and it would be OK if I got up and kept just one eye on the flighty little beings finding their own way in the world.  As it turns out, they still require several meals every day; so this is a good thing.  Kids are expensive!

But oh, the fallout…

Do you have any idea how difficult it is to focus on anything when people are screaming that you have to be a stork when you know you’re an ostrich?

I Corinthians 12:4-13, “There are different kinds of gifts, but the same Spirit distributes them. There are different kinds of service, but the same Lord. There are different kinds of working, but in all of them and in everyone it is the same God at work. Now to each one the manifestation of the Spirit is given for the common good. To one there is given through the Spirit a message of wisdom, to another a message of knowledge by means of the same Spirit,  to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healing by that one Spirit,  to another miraculous powers, to another prophecy, to another distinguishing between spirits, to another speaking in different kinds of tongues, and to still another the interpretation of tongues. All these are the work of one and the same Spirit, and he distributes them to each one, just as he determines.  Just as a body, though one, has many parts, but all its many parts form one body, so it is with Christ. For we were all baptized by one Spirit so as to form one body—whether Jews or Gentiles, slave or free—and we were all given the one Spirit to drink” (NIV).

I’m not going to lie.  There’s a bit of a temptation to go all ‘smash the patriarchy, feminist L’ on y’all, today.  But that would entirely defeat the purpose of this post… and more importantly, this Scripture.

I feel as if I hear a lot of big talk about free will and the importance of choosing (whatever we want) for ourselves, and yet it seems that those who are most vocal about this are also very concerned with convincing others to choose only as they would.  How does this make any sense?

What I love most about this passage from I Corinthians is that it is made so very clear that all of these gifts, all of these abilities, these multiplicitous ways of living come by the same Spirit. 

My goodness, what a horrible place this world would be if everyone was like me!  Or you… You, too…

What if we actually saw the value in diversity?  Because…  God does…

As a side note, when I was taking a pretty hard hit the other day from someone who thinks female pastors are abhorrent and I should probably do some more dishes; my oldest daughter just about jumped out of her skin.  As it turns out, the perception in our house is that I am an incredible mom and always involved in everything my children care about.  I just wanted to throw that out there, because the truth is, unless we’re talking about situations where children have been neglected or abused, kids tend to think pretty highly of (and defend) their parents.  I’m a far cry from perfect, but you might not want to take up that fight with my babies.  Because even though they are willing to call me on the carpet when I screw up; they will never, ever let you do the same!  You have to be pretty close to a situation to speak truth into someone else’s family life, and you have to be even closer than that to speak unfounded opinion and hope to get away with it!

Go raise your little ostriches and storks!

 
L.

Trust is Not Safe

I Corinthians 12:1, “…brothers and sisters, I do not want you to be uninformed” (NIV).

I can remember sitting in a theater in 1992… just barely 13 years old… 8^th grade… surrounded by a good group of girlfriends… ready to watch the latest Disney animated release… Aladdin.

I can remember that it was breathtaking, and I could not only see, but feel, the scene in which Aladdin escapes from the cave of wonders.  This endeared the magic carpet to me, for life.  Not to mention, “A Whole New World.”  For a girl whose love language is vacation; Carpet is a pretty sweet ride… 

Aladdin falls somewhere on my Disney favorites list, although it will, admittedly, never hold a candle to Beauty and the Beast or even the much newer era Tangled.

But there are significant problems with this film, as well.  After all, Aladdin is the non-prince of lies!

When I stop to think about it, I wonder if watching this particular film… at that particular age… had some unintended consequences, because I’m pretty sure it’s the first time it ever occurred to me that a relationship with a ‘bad boy’ might be appealing, and shortly after that my movie going escapades devolved into sneaking out and lying, myself. 

I’ve been thinking about this, lately, because… friends… I’m raising teenagers.  Three of them.  Although… thank goodness… I’m at least as smart as Jango Fett and only requested one unaltered clone to raise as my own.

I must be doing something right, because as we were rocking out to some T Swift, while driving the other day, she turned to me and asked, “Why would anyone want a ‘bad boy’?”

And I laughed… and laughed… and sent up a quick prayer, thanking God that we might escape the whole ‘sneak out to the movies with boys your parents have never met’ phase…

But I digress… just a little…

There’s this one scene in Aladdin where he flies up to the balcony of Princess Jasmine’s bedroom (that’s not creepy or anything) and essentially makes a bid for her hand in marriage (Elsa…  where are you?  “You can’t marry a man you just met!” Although there is the whole law about how Jasmine has to marry a man she just met, so it’s a catch 22…).  She’s smart enough to initially tell him to “Go jump off a balcony,” but when he does, she discovers that he has a magic carpet, people!  She doesn’t really have much of a chance here!  Watch the scene.  She falls in love with Carpet!

Still, the dialogue has turned impressive at this point, as Aladdin admits, “You should be free to make your own choice…”

Well, ‘bad boy,’ that sounds a little bit like free will, so she’s listening.

But then Jasmine asks, “Is it safe?”

And this is where Aladdin may allow the greatest lie yet to spew from his lips. 

“Sure.  Do you trust me?”

Oh, friends…  Trust is not safe.

The daily office plunges us right back into God’s monologue to Job, today, and I have a slightly different perspective than I had last week.  As God continues to recount all of the many things God knows and Job doesn’t, I stopped to think about the vast number of things that are risky… and even scary…  There are things God does (satisfying the hunger of lions 38:39), beasts God tames (an ox who serves God? 39:9) that the vast majority of us would not find the least bit appealing.  I began to see this as soliloquy, in part.  I wonder if God isn’t offering an invitation to Job to join God in God’s work, while also reflecting for Godself about the difficulty of the tasks.  I have long since dropped the phrase, “God is in control,” from my vocabulary, but I can also see how God works in the midst of all the difficult circumstances we do not choose in order to bring some good, or at the very least to hold us close while we realize just how dangerous it is to trust in a world where human choice reigns.

Trust is not safe, precisely because there are no guarantees.  And yet, unlike Aladdin, God calls us to seek him (see Jer. 29:13), to make informed decisions (I Cor, 12:1, above), to know the truth that does not promise safety or a pain free life but that does promise a God who will not leave us, even in the midst of our greatest struggles and fears.

And we have to trust other people, too.  Because, as an example, Job’s friends totally stink!  But if you can make it to the end of the book, you’ll find that at least they’re there.  At least they come.  At least they stay.  It counts for something.

L.

Remember Who You Are

John 14:15-17, “If you love me, keep my commands. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another advocate to help you and be with you forever—the Spirit of truth. The world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him, for he lives with you and will be in you” (NIV).

So, it seems that I am going to lean far in one of two directions, this week.  I am vacillating between the extremes of :

1.      Personal reflection born from exhaustion and frustration (in my defense, the daily office is going to keep us in Job 38 for what seems like eternity).

or

2.      What would Disney say?

Today, you get “Disney enthusiast L”…

Although “The Lion King” has never been in my top 10 when it comes to animated features (please don’t tell my seven year old, because this revelation would be on par with heresy to her); it does contain one brilliantly theologically loaded scene that blows me away every time I watch it.

“Grown up Simba” (as aforementioned kid calls him, because it is apparently incredibly important to distinguish which era of Simba’s life we’re referencing, at all times), has reached a point at which he is running from everything—past, present, and future, really—in large part because he feels abandoned by his father, Mufasa, and responsible for his death (it’s not Disney if there are no dead parents…).  At any rate, Simba is definitely at a crossroad, and the choice he makes, moving forward, has the potential to affect not only himself but also everyone he has ever known and loved. 

Simba is running, precisely because he believes that he is incapable of bringing healing and restoration to his home.  In fact, he thinks he is culpable for all of the pain and disaster that has already befallen his people (OK… his animals, his pride, etc.), so they must surely be better off without him.  Although there are moments when “Kid Simba” acted purely out of self-interest; this decision has a different feel to it.  Simba is prepared to choose a lonely life, on the run, to protect others.

It sounds kind of noble, except… he’s wrong… about so many things… Principle among these is that he has forgotten who he is!

Well, through a strange series of events (and a crazy, prophetic baboon), Simba does, indeed, remember that his father lives in and through him, both by his spirit and reflection.  We can all take a page from that book!

There are parallels that I love from the Scripture taken from the Gospel of John.  My favorite parts include the realization that Jesus also lives in and through us, by the Holy Spirit, and that this is a permanent arrangement—The Spirit of Truth, an advocate, “to help you and be with you forever…”

But I also have some immediate concerns about this passage, because I think we (as the Church) have often forgotten who we are, just as deeply as Simba.

“If you love me, keep my commands…”

It’s not a list of rules, Church.  I’m not saying rules don’t matter (although, I am, admittedly, a crummy rule follower), but when asked directly about what matters most, 

“Jesus replied: ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments” (Matthew 22:37-40, NIV).

This is straightforward teaching, although certainly not uncomplicated.  Love God, love people, love yourself, and everything else will fall into place.  Yet it seems that we struggle with what love looks like.

Returning to John, we read:

“The world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him.”

Look carefully, again, at this jump we make, because I don’t think I’m the only one who does it: 

“If you love me, keep my commands…The world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him.”

This will never work if we continue to delete the Spirit of Truth, if we refuse to dig deep enough to understand the greatest commandments.  I see self-proclaimed Christians raging against the world, but sometimes I think we’re the very ones who neither see nor know…  Ouch! 

We have forgotten who we are.

But there’s hope.  May Rafiki hit us all on the head with his stick, there’s still hope… Because somewhere back there in our past (however near or distant), Jesus promised to send the Spirit.  And if we could just take a good long look in the mirror… or the lake… or wherever our reflection is most clear; maybe we could see Imago Dei again.  And maybe we could get on board with the difficult, loving choices that take us further into the world around us as opposed to running toward some elusive and exclusive safety zone that is merely a figment of our imaginations.

It’s overused quote time again.  This is one of my favorites:

“She knows who she is. She just forgot for a little while.”

-Donald Miller

I’ve been there, friends.  If I hadn’t, this quote wouldn’t be one of my favorites! 

May we wake up and remember who we are.  And just in case it’s still unclear, if our desire is to reflect God, who we are is love. 

L.

The Sarcastic, Fed-up, Parent God

Job 38:21, “Surely you know, for you were already born! You have lived so many years!”

If Job was glad God had appeared on the scene, I’m honestly not sure how long it lasted.  And I have serious mixed feelings about the sarcastic, fed-up, parent God who is portrayed here, so clearly.   Perhaps this is because, like so many times before, I know how to play both parts in this dialogue.

Although I am the mother of three pretty fabulous teenagers, I think I’ll keep this particular verse of Scripture in my back pocket… or maybe I’ll even plaster it on their bedroom walls!  Because, let me reiterate, they’re great!  But they’re also teenagers!  And there are moments when I know… for sure… that I have a corner on truth that they’ve just not come to yet. 

And still…  I have no desire to downplay Job’s complete and intense grief, because even if God has a corner on truth in this situation; it’s still a horrible, unimaginably painful state of affairs.

I have nothing comparable to share (thank goodness), but I should admit that I had one of those “the universe hates me” moments, just this morning.  It happened just after I finished snapping more pictures of the many things we are trying to sell at a garage sale.  If you could see my driveway, at present, I would be a little embarrassed.  It is filled with stuff that has been stored for almost four years.  The truth is, if you haven’t used something in that amount of time; you never should have moved it to begin with.  But this house was supposed to be a very temporary fix.  Seven people.  Three Bedrooms.  Less than 1,000 square feet of space.  We were supposed to make good on a three month lease, sell our out-of-state home, buy something new, and move on.    

Upon finally realizing that these many possessions could be useful to someone who has a large enough house for them, I sort of metaphorically threw up my hands and said, “Let’s just sell it all…” 

So, you can tell I was already in a pretty sarcastic mood…

Everything also feels like a time crunch, lately, but I had rallied.  Laptop and phone in hand, I grabbed a folding chair, sat down at a table I’d love to sell to somebody, and prepared to blog… and podcast… and garage sale…

But, wait.  Was that a raindrop on this day where the weather forecast has consistently promised sunny skies?

Of course.

It was at this point that I literally threw my hands up. 

And so here I sit… snugly tucked away in my fifteen passenger van that may or may not start today… watching for any garage sale people who might brave the weather… reading the daily office and typing this post and wondering if God thinks I throw temper tantrums.

I guess if we’re going to dish sarcasm, we have to be able to take it, too.

Please, oh please, let tomorrow’s passage offer something more hopeful than this.

Also…  I swallowed a bug.

 
L.