What's Working?

I’ve always been interested in how things work and yet, I still persist in trying to catch the news in some form each day. That’s either a comment on the resiliency of optimism (holding out hope for a report of a random act of kindness somewhere), the addictive quality of pessimism (now what!), or something else.

Inaccessible healthcare websites, international surveillance of cell phone conversations, renewed interest in conspiracy theories for historical events, lack of support for public schools, shifting more responsibility for food and shelter for the unemployed or underemployed to non-profits, distrust of government representatives, disgust at huge profits and bailouts, long terms of recovery from being underwater either from storm surges or from mortgage losses - our society is a mess!  My own chosen constructs and political leanings sway and stagger.  My confidence wanes.  I’m sick of it.  Tired.  And the irony is that in the midst of this, I’m actually fine. By that I mean I’m still standing.  Solvent.  Healthy.  Secure. Befriended.  Married with children. Educated. Passionate about my life’s work. Blessed.  Fortunate.  I take the cake, as they say, on all the above, but I’m frosted with frustration and foreboding. This is what I have in common with nearly everyone I know.  I’m beginning to discover that the only thing that might work will have to be “something else.” 

I’m a Christian, but not the sort of Christian that you might expect, that is, not the sort that seems to make the daily news.  For example, I don’t worry about prayer in public schools.  I prayed in study halls, at lockers, at ball games, on my way to and from schools all my life, and I never missed another person leading the group in prayers aloud because, for one thing, the bible, and Jesus in particular, warns against its pitfalls (Matthew 6: 5-6).  In fact, I don’t regularly grumble about or retreat from humanity with all its flagrant failures and debauchery, partly because I was raised to practice honest self-examination and largely because Jesus was known for moving among and eating with low life.  It was the one true, irrefutable charge against him, and yet, in the context of his purpose and character, that choice was transformed from a condemnation to confirmation of his message and then, believe it or not, to commission for those who would follow him. 

In trying to figure out how things work, I’ve uncovered the value of that rather inauspicious word, expectation.  It was like discovering hidden wealth.  What do I expect?  The difference between what I expect and reality is the measure of my disappointment or sense of offense.  Since I can’t fix reality, I had better adjust expectations.  That doesn’t mean I accept or – what’s the psychological advice? – embrace reality.  While I am diametrically opposed to embracing judgment, I also don’t embrace what prickles or is sleazy.  There’s a third way.  I embrace something else. 

So, here’s how it works:  You have to pack and carry two basic expectations:  1) Jesus is Jesus.  We are only like Jesus when His Spirit produces something else through our attempts to engage life’s situations and relationships.  2) People are people, God love them.  Everyone I meet is lovable, because God made them so and, in fact, does love them.  But at the same time, everyone I meet is also certainly selfish.  Everyone I meet struggles with the dichotomy of money or other form of personal power and God; everyone chooses regularly between self-indulgence and sacrifice.  Everyone I meet is self-righteous, excusing him or herself and judging others.  Everyone.  It’s only when I expect something different from that, something more from others, that I’m offended, disappointed, frustrated, or shocked.  It’s only when I expect something different, something more that I tend to play dress-up in self-righteousness myself, tossing those faux-god boas of emotional reaction around my shoulders.  You can flaunt high and mighty principles all day long, but you can’t fix people.  They won’t shape up.  They don’t shame up.  They aren’t berated into better-ness. 

I expect Jesus to be Jesus and people to be people.  At the same time, I try to remember which one I am and how I'm doing at the moment.  And, especially, I remember that Jesus repurposes damaged goods, left and right.  He’s good at it.  Perfect, actually.  That’s not too high an expectation to believe; he is something else. 

So I expect the news to be graphic and gripping and awful much of the time, unless interrupted by God's grace and provision.  I expect the world to be continually dying and bent on decaying and God to be continually resurrecting and life-giving.  I do not expect to be abandoned, because I have God’s word on it that that will never happen.  I expect praise to be a response, not pre-requisite or leverage in my relationship with such a powerful ally who is also, always my loving abba-father.  That’s as far as I can go with figuring out how it all works here.  It gives me a place to stand and not be blown away.  It gives me a place to start. 

May you have undaunted Grace and Peace, 
Pastor Shirley