Sometimes Scripture is Rough

The daily office, today, seems to be the opposite of hope.  It is lament and death and destruction all around!  I don’t want to write about that at Advent!  But things aren’t always what they seem…  And things can change…

Amos 5:12-15 was really getting to me:

“There are those who oppress the innocent and take bribes and deprive the poor of justice in the courts.  Therefore the prudent keep quiet in such times, for the times are evil. Seek good, not evil, that you may live. Then the Lord God Almighty will be with you, just as you say he is. Hate evil, love good; maintain justice in the courts. Perhaps the Lord God Almighty will have mercy…”

I was having a difficult time wrapping my mind around how it is prudent to be silent in the face of injustice while being charged with bringing justice, and then I thought of Santa Claus… no kidding… either because I’m seriously sleep deprived or because I’m the mother of one kid who still thinks reindeer fly or because I am desperately hoping some magical being might actually fill my list, this year (and don’t go all materialistic on me, because my list is an anomaly… mostly… I promise).  OK, so I was really thinking of St. Nicholas (and I know I’m a couple of days late for this post).

So often, we assume our action must be loud and in the spotlight in order to count for anything, but there are times when subversive disruption actually does more good.  This is not to imply that we should always be silent… or that we should suffer in silence… or that we should watch others suffer in silence.  I want to add my own resounding “enough” to the cries of those who have had more than their share of pain.  But I do want to underscore the thought that talk is cheap.  Action is more useful, regardless of the dynamic in play.  If we really lament, perhaps we should repent.  Perhaps we should even take responsibility for wrongs in the world for which we are not directly culpable.  Lord, have mercy…

Who can we help… who can we free… who can we resurrect… as we wait?

L.

Love is Not Dependence

Wait.  What?

It took me some time (maybe more than it should have), but I finally bought into the whole community is necessary, we belong to each other way of thinking—hook, line, and sinker—so this passage caught me off guard:

I Thessalonians 4:9-12, “Now about your love for one another we do not need to write to you, for you yourselves have been taught by God to love each other.  And in fact, you do love all of God’s family throughout Macedonia. Yet we urge you, brothers and sisters, to do so more and more, and to make it your ambition to lead a quiet life: You should mind your own business and work with your hands, just as we told you, so that your daily life may win the respect of outsiders and so that you will not be dependent on anybody” (NIV).

The glaring question staring me in the face is, “How do we love quietly?”

By nature, I’m kind of quiet (and everyone who thinks they know me well collapses in a fit of hysterical laughter, because I have, indeed, learned to adapt to my surroundings to be as loud as I need to be in order to be heard… which… let me tell ya… is pretty terribly loud sometimes).

I read an article the other day about my personality type (see endnotes).  The entire article resonated, but this paragraph relates directly to what I’m thinking about, today:

“INFJs are true introverts, yet people not very close to them believe them to be extroverts. This happens because INFJs can be social chameleons and have an innate ability to blend in in any social setting. The INFJ can be the life of the party for a night or two, showcasing their inviting nature and vivaciousness. However, this is never prolonged because, in introverted-fashion, they lose energy from others. Those close to an INFJ know that this type prefers bars over clubs and barbecues over balls, and can give a speech to thousands of people but cringes at the idea of mingling with the crowd afterward. Eventually, this type will need to retreat home for some quiet time to ‘recharge their batteries,’ or they will become very on-edge and exhausted.”[i]

This is so refreshing, because it is feels like permission to be quiet.  And for an introvert who has been ‘talking’ (in one form or another) nearly nonstop for weeks on end (maybe months); that’s a gift.

I joked with my latest podcast guest, before we began recording, about how I needed to have some guiding questions for the program, because otherwise I might allow silences to go on for several minutes, which would be fine with me but probably quite uncomfortable for others.  Then we laughed about how ridiculous this would be for an audio show.  Then we recorded my longest podcast to date.

So, it’s not that I don’t have things to say (nobody is surprised)… and it’s not that I’m unwilling to say them (again, I don’t hear any gasping)… but I am, admittedly, a little on edge and so very, very exhausted.

How can my daily life possibly be respectable when I am stumbling through the morning hours, wondering why it has to be summertime when the darkness takes so long to cover the tiring days during which there is so much to say and so little time to process? 

I’m absolutely looking for a rescue here… which feels pretty dependent… although I have worked quite hard with my hands and have even managed to mind my own business on a fairly regular basis, so maybe I just need to rescue myself with some time for soul care in silence and solitude (It’s been six months, so I am (over)due).

A quote I appreciate and have used on various occasions, but which I cannot seem to find and source, right now, is this: “People who love one another can be silent together.”

I’ve spent a lot of time, in recent days, thinking about how loud love must be, but maybe it must also be quiet…

L.

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[i] https://www.theodysseyonline.com/life-infj-worlds-rarest-personality-type

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.