Resurrection Joy

I read once, about twenty years ago, in a book called ‘Love’s Journey’ by Michael Guiran, “The secret of a life is to love with joy.” Ever since then I have been in search of such a life, but it is elusive for I note that I am not always bubbling over with joy. I assume I am not that different to you. To live a life that loves with joy is indeed elusive. I suspect, or more positively said, I am think I am coming to understand what some of the secrets of this life of joy are: Joy (always) comes from the depths. It has too! There was first a tragic death before there was a joyful resurrection. Mary came to the tomb while it was still dark, before she could speed off and tell others the joyful news of Jesus’ resurrection. Joy has its roots deeply embedded in darkness first, in death first, in disappointment first. Isn’t that is why joy satisfies, for it is lodged deeply in us? So we can say then joy is bigger than our circumstances. ‘Circumstance’ would be the basis of happiness; ‘bigger than circumstance’ would be the basis of joy. So the bottom line basis of joy is trust - we have to get to a place where we can accept that it is not our will that matters in the things going on around us, but God’s will, at the deepest level. Or in other words we have to know deep in the soul our lives are not primarily about us, and we are not that important in the greater scheme of things. There is a much bigger picture at play. Without this kind of trust and acceptance, patience and wisdom I cannot see there being much joy. Joy is transcendent in this sense, it is allowing the divine to have a say in the understanding, interpreting, and experiencing, of our circumstances. The seed of joy is to sit in the contradictions and sufferings of my life first. I am loathe to use the word accept them so I use the word ‘sit’ with them. And seek God’s will in them. So, joy then comes from, and transcends, our circumstances. Joy is able to look deeply into the present, and remain in the present; but in the same moment trust beyond the present. Such joy then is paradox and mystery, the divine playing out in the heart of our lives. Joy is Good Friday and Easter Sunday held together, by trust. in our circumstances!

A Good Friday reflection...

The events of Good Friday make riveting, on the edge of your chair, reading. It is suspense and drama played out in the public eye: Can you imagine the media hype if it played out today, lets say in here in South Africa - the cameras, the reporters, the gossip, the scandal, and the hype. The political leader of the day hands the prisoner over to the rioting mob outside the parliament gates. The mob parade the prisoner through the town up onto a hill in full view of the public, continually striking and beating him up. On the hill, with two other prisoners, they are brutally put to death. The place of death is the biggest crossroad and bus depot in the town. The political leader puts up a sign depicting who the prisoner is, and the mob want it taken down. If we think it can’t get worse just before he dies the prisoner asks for something to drink and the mob callously offer him a sour mixture of vinegar and wine on a sponge on the end of a long stick. When he is dead the mob strip him of clothes and take his clothes home for themselves. While this is all going on the prisoner’s family are watching, and making last minute arrangements as to who will take care of his family. We would probably turn the TV off in disgust and horror at the violence of the world we live in, and walk away trying to erase the horrendous pictures from our minds. This is what we tend to do when confronted with the brutality of violence and death. We will do most everything in our power to avoid facing up to the way things are, in so many places in our world, including here on out doorstep. Death is a picture, a reality we avoid as best we can. So we sentimentalize it - we sing ‘on the old rugged cross’, or, ‘on a green hill far, far away’, or ‘in the cross of Christ I glory’. We craft beautiful ornate crosses and hang them around our necks, and everywhere. We avoid death wherever we can. We are afraid of our mortality. Yet right in the heart of God’s salvation plan, central to everything we believe, is death. And death at its most abhorrent and violent. It is only being in the ministry that I have been forced to sit down and converse with death and dying. Literally forced to. And it is been a difficult and sad and painful journey, for with death comes the unimaginable grief of losing our loved ones. A loss so great and life altering I nearly avoided writing this, in respect for the gravity of grief and loss death brings. But I want to probe, go a little further on the death journey of Good Friday, for it seems to me this death journey has some essential lessons to teach us. Let’s just look at two lessons, one from God’s side and one from our side. From God’s side: The finality of death, which pains us most, is the very thing, on the cross that sets us free most. Death is the final dealing with sin, it really is. Sin with death is gone. It is finished. The wages of sin is death. Sin is done with like it was never there; the job is complete, final. That’s why the Psalmist could say we are forgiven as high as the sky is from the earth, as far as the east is from the west. I don’t want to downplay our wrongdoing and guilt, but it is no longer an issue. Death has destroyed it. Forgiveness rules supreme. We are freer than we ever thought. We just got to let go of the guilt! From our side: We need a massive mind shift here, a radical paradigm shift. We need to rethink the way we look at death. The finality and grief set aside, death is a welcome friend, in all the forms it comes - all the little ones we suffer along the way (losses, heartaches, failures, disappointments, lost dreams) and finally when the big one comes. A death is ALWAYS, ALWAYS, ALWAYS the beginning of something new and better. Jesus said it over and over: “Unless a grain of seed falls in to ground and dies, it bears no fruit”, “If you keep your life you will lose it, but if you lose your life you will find it”, and “The last shall be first.” This is why the death of Jesus is called Good Friday! God does immense “life-saving, forgiving, grace-giving” good in us through Jesus’ death; and ‘death’ when it comes to us does immense, immense good in us. So much so Paul, writes, “Death is destroyed; victory is complete! "Where, Death, is your victory? Where, Death, is your power to hurt?" Death gets its power to hurt from sin, and sin gets its power from the Law. But thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ!”

A Lenten thought

The clearest biblical similarity I know to Lent was Jesus’ 40 days in the desert wilderness. I have always thought this to be the basis of what Lent is all about. Matthew chapter 4 opens with the words, “Then the Spirit led Jesus into the desert to be tempted by the Devil”. They could well have read the Spirit led Jesus into the wilderness for a period of testing, suffering and trial. Not much has changed since then! The Spirit of God is still ‘testing us in the wilderness’. Perhaps the only thing that has changed is our perception of, and willingness to enter into, wilderness. It is true to say for many, in our modern world, an intentional journey into a wilderness area to test the soul is unheard of. And not just wilderness, but also the testing of the soul. They hardly go hand in hand anymore. So it seems God now brings ‘wilderness’ to us! Not wilderness in the true sense of a geographic area, but wilderness in experiences that test the soul. In this sense we all go into the ‘desert wilderness’, not geographically or literally, but in the experiences of loss, failure, betrayal, illness, heartache and suffering. The old saying is true, “God will make a way”. I personally believe that an intentional journey into a wilderness area is an essential step in dealing with the ‘wilderness’ experiences of loss, failure, betrayal, illness, heartache and suffering that come our way. If we just go into the wilderness to holiday, or hunt or have a ‘jol’, then we will miss the work wilderness does in us. But if we go on an intentional journey (and have a good time too) then we have much to gain. The Spirit led Jesus into the wilderness. May the Spirit lead us there too.

Written in the USA a few years ago.

A couple of months ago I drove the two and a half hour trip from Leland, Mississippi to Memphis, Tennessee to drop Arun Kumar off at the airport. Arun is a pastor in India with who we are in partnership. Whenever we are in the big city we try and catch a movie we would not normally see in our neck of the woods. We saw Seven Days in Utopia, a great golf movie with a real faith life message. The golf was as great as the story! It was not your traditional 'christian' movie, but a movie with a compelling faith story. The movie ends just before the final putt on the 18th hole playoff! The first screen title refers you to www.didhemaketheputt.com to find out what happened. At first I thought it was a joke, but this week I ordered the movie on Netflix (for SA readers, that is a one price per month for as many DVDs you can watch, one at a time, or instant access on your computer or TV. It works because the mail is so quick and reliable) to watch it again and pay more attention to the story line. I went straight to the Internet this time to look up the website. Sure enough it concluded the movie and gave insight into the book behind the movie and the sequel, presently being written. We actually got to the movie house in Memphis a few minutes late and missed the beginning of the movie (a pet hate). Watching it again, I saw it started with a text - Isaiah 30:21, which I dutifully looked up. The text struck me, "If you wander off the road to the right or the left, you will hear his voice behind you saying, "Here is the road. Follow it." How do we hear his voice when we have wandered off the road? In my experience his voice has come in a myriad of ways - primarily through waiting for something to happen, faith and hope that something will happen, and the grace of others. But this waiting, believing, hoping and grace is not in a vacuum. It comes though the attention I give to my personal devotional life. I worship (Sundays), I read the scriptures (mostly daily), I read books, I listen to music, I pray, and I keep a journal. These things seldom show me the road as much as I wish they would. The voice comes through circumstances, usually beyond my control and in unexpected ways, which I have come to learn is the Spirit blowing like the wind. As I faithfully (doggedly, laboriously, often un-inspiringly) pay attention to my inner life with God I hear his voice in these places where I least expect to. Isaiah 30:20, the preceding verse spells it our a little more clearly, it is God showing the road in the difficulties of our life. "The Lord will make you go through hard times, but he himself will be there to teach you, and you will not have to search for him any more." There he is, his Spirit like wind blowing (we don't where it comes from or where it is going) and his voice showing us the road to take.

Also from the USA a few years ago...

A Christmas Reflection. I am seeing Christmas through different eyes these days. Upon reflection, this is probably due to the combination of several factors. The words of the Bee Gee’s song, ‘First of May’, “When I was small and Christmas trees were tall” no doubt plays its part. This, plus the hard knocks of loss and life tend to take away some of the glitter and glamour of the season. There is a persistent nagging too that so much of how we celebrate Christ’s birth is far removed from the actual event itself, and its meaning. Probably the biggest factor though, for me personally, is the extreme contrast of culture and economy I have experienced living the last five years in the wealthier western world compared to the not so wealthy African world I come from. This is difficult to articulate for I have loved my experience here in Mississippi, and am grateful for everything I have learnt, received and grown through living here. So this is definitely not a critique of western economy and culture. I easily relate to it, and it is an integral part of who I am. Yet I find myself seeing the Christmas story (and identifying my faith and life) through African eyes and economy. I find that less is more. The mystery, power and blessing of the season lie hidden more in our need for God than in our abundance and plenty. The spirit of Christmas lies in lowly Mary’s words, and barren Elizabeth’s heart, “the Mighty One has done great things for me." That this message comes through the lowly and humble, marginalized, discriminated against, and poor, says something in itself. The contrast and inequalities of the two continents have drawn me toward a faith that celebrates the incarnation in a more humble and less materialistic way. It seems much clearer now. And not only in a personal way, in how I celebrate and what I spend, but challenges me also in the socio economic imbalances around the globe. As much as I would like to give a child (poor and lowly) a great Christmas gift, the Christmas message is screaming out for a more fair and equitable economy that really fixes the problem. The birth of God’s son suggests that the powers of this world are not the powers that matter most, that God brings down the exalted and elevates the lowly. As Mary said, “He has stretched out his mighty arm and scattered the proud with all their plans. He has brought down mighty kings from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away with empty hands.” Still today the hungry remain hungry, and the rich spend billions on themselves. The Christmas season is a long, long way away from Mary’s song, maybe even unrecognizable, actually. I don’t think Mary’s sentiments are out of reach though, for the message is lodged in our hearts already, through our personal suffering, tragedy, loss and pain. We know what she knew - it is true for us too! I can say, just like Mary said, “the Mighty One has done great things for me." The stretch needed to take it a step further and have a voice into the injustices and suffering out there is not that far. Sacrificial, yes, controversial, maybe, unpopular, probably, but not out of our hands! The small shift we make in our thinking and practices go a lot further than we think. Eleanor Roosevelt summed it all up in these oft quoted words “It isn't enough to talk about peace, one must believe it. And it isn't enough to believe in it, one must work for it.”