Good Friday, 2010
I have heard “why?” a lot more than usual this week. It seems to be the favorite word of my 4-½ year old grandson, Christian. We spent Tuesday together and the “why” question came up in a multitude of forms. When the fish refused to participate in our fishing expedition and not so much as nibble on the hook, he asked “why?” “Why is the water dirty?” he asked, referring to the green stuff growing at the water’s edge. Later, at MacDonald’s for lunch, he pointed out the dragon toy that he wanted in his Happy Meal. When he got a Gronkle instead of a Night Fury he wanted to know why. I entertained “why” questions about alligators, blue herons and egrets. I offered explanations about manatees, turtles, minnows, shells, rain and sand. Some answers satisfied him. Some were met with yet more “whys.” As a chaplain, I’ve learned some “whys” can be much more complicated than the ones about dragons, real or imagined.
She looked at me as I sat in the chair just off to the side at the end of bed. The tears welled up in her eyes as she formed the question. “Why did this happen?” “What did I do to deserve this?” I listened as she searched in vain for some reason in her life, some behavior or sin that would explain why God had allowed her to suffer so. “I have prayed and prayed and prayed and I can’t understand.” “I just want to know why.” I felt the urge to explain it away or offer some defense for God’s questioned character and pushed it back, fighting to stay with her in the pain. No answer would have been adequate. And she is not alone.
He wondered aloud about unrealized hopes. Would he be there for his son’s graduation? Would he be there at his wedding? Would he ever know the joys of being a grandfather? “Why do the men in my family have such rotten genes?” “My brother, my father, my grandfather, all of them had rotten tickers!” “I thought I had beaten the odds, my heart is fine.” “So why did I get this cancer?”
“He’s just a baby.” “Why did God take my baby?” Her cry was inconsolable. It is the kind of pain every parent imagines and hopes never to experience. Her husband arrived and added “whys” of his own. Family and friends tried to answer them; saying things I learned long ago made no sense and offered no comfort.
Why questions about alligators and manatees are not so tough. “Why did God take my son?” “Why did God let this happen?” kind of questions are much more difficult. The best one can do sometimes, most times, is to be with them in silent brokenness. God knows.
Easter blessings,
Jerald
Showing posts with label Faith. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Faith. Show all posts
Friday, April 2, 2010
Friday, March 12, 2010
Moments
Glimmers
March 12, 2010
"Listen to the cry of a woman in labor at the hour of giving birth - look at the dying man's struggle at his last extremity, and then tell me whether something that begins and ends thus could be intended for enjoyment." Soren Kierkegaard (1813-1855)
A friend of mine from college used this Kierkegaard quote as his Facebook status recently. My friend has experienced levels of pain I can hardly imagine and my heart aches for him. I can see how he would identify with Kierkegaard. I added a comment on his post that Kierkegaard must have been looking at the wrong moments.
Kierkegaard, for all his brilliance as a theologian and philosopher, never came across as particularly happy. He struggled with melancholy, what we now call depression. He passed on one opportunity for happiness by breaking up with the love of his life, thinking that he did not deserve such happiness-which makes one wonder about his theology. He never seemed to find another happy opportunity. I think he must have been the inspiration for the quote I saw on a bumper sticker once; “Life is hard, then you die.”
Clearly everyone’s life is different and I will allow that for some life holds little enjoyment at the beginning, or the end, or for many of the moments in between. But I don’t think that is true for all people.
Life is hard. It is often a struggle at the beginning, the end, and many moments in between. But these aren’t the only moments. There is that moment at the end of the aisle when she appears on her father’s arm and the breath nearly leaves the body. There is that moment just after the labor is over and we gaze at the miracle of new life and pain is overwhelmed by joy. The first smile and first word. There is the first day of school and the first step of faith.
Some moments are so full of joy the heart can barely contain them. Some are so full of pain the soul can hardly bear them. Moments. We’ve all had our moments. And we will have others, like the one after the labor is over and we gaze at the miracle of new life. I hope at the moment, after his “last extremity,” Kierkegaard saw that one and finally knew joy. Too bad he had to wait that long.
Blessings to you all,
Jerald
March 12, 2010
"Listen to the cry of a woman in labor at the hour of giving birth - look at the dying man's struggle at his last extremity, and then tell me whether something that begins and ends thus could be intended for enjoyment." Soren Kierkegaard (1813-1855)
A friend of mine from college used this Kierkegaard quote as his Facebook status recently. My friend has experienced levels of pain I can hardly imagine and my heart aches for him. I can see how he would identify with Kierkegaard. I added a comment on his post that Kierkegaard must have been looking at the wrong moments.
Kierkegaard, for all his brilliance as a theologian and philosopher, never came across as particularly happy. He struggled with melancholy, what we now call depression. He passed on one opportunity for happiness by breaking up with the love of his life, thinking that he did not deserve such happiness-which makes one wonder about his theology. He never seemed to find another happy opportunity. I think he must have been the inspiration for the quote I saw on a bumper sticker once; “Life is hard, then you die.”
Clearly everyone’s life is different and I will allow that for some life holds little enjoyment at the beginning, or the end, or for many of the moments in between. But I don’t think that is true for all people.
Life is hard. It is often a struggle at the beginning, the end, and many moments in between. But these aren’t the only moments. There is that moment at the end of the aisle when she appears on her father’s arm and the breath nearly leaves the body. There is that moment just after the labor is over and we gaze at the miracle of new life and pain is overwhelmed by joy. The first smile and first word. There is the first day of school and the first step of faith.
Some moments are so full of joy the heart can barely contain them. Some are so full of pain the soul can hardly bear them. Moments. We’ve all had our moments. And we will have others, like the one after the labor is over and we gaze at the miracle of new life. I hope at the moment, after his “last extremity,” Kierkegaard saw that one and finally knew joy. Too bad he had to wait that long.
Blessings to you all,
Jerald
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Seeing the invisible
Glimmers
October 22, 2009
“It was by faith that Moses left the land of Egypt, not fearing the king’s anger. He kept right on going because he kept his eyes on the one who is invisible.” Hebrews 11:27 (NLT)
It is funny how one thought leads to another, then another and another. Sometimes I try to stop where I am in the thinking process and retrace the mental steps that led me to the current thought. The caboose on today’s thought train was the George Strait song “I Saw God Today.”
Just walked down the street to the coffee shop
Had to take a break
I’d been by her side for eighteen hours straight
Saw a flower growin’ in the middle of the sidewalk
Pushin’ up through the concrete
Like it was planted right there for me to see
The flashin’ lights, the honkin’ horns
All seemed to fade away
In the shadow of that hospital at 5:08
I saw God today (Rodney Clawson; Monty Criswell; Wade Kirby)
I got to George Strait’s song from a prior thought I read in Philip Yancey's book, Prayer. Yancey said as he looks for God in the everydayness of life, “aha” moments “catch me by surprise: a surge of gratitude, a pang of compassion. But they catch me, I have learned, only when I am looking for them,” (Prayer, p. 183).
I have come to believe we can indeed see the One “who is invisible.” I know it is subjective and not objective and that my “seeing” is an act of faith, an interpretation of what I see. In this hospital, I get glimpses of God from time to time.Yesterday I saw God in the face mother’s grief, a young woman’s heart for soldiers far from home, a co-worker’s courage in the face of illness, a volunteer’s determination to be God’s loving presence for a difficult patient and a housekeeper who is as gracious as her name.
What do you see?
Blessings to you all,
Jerald
October 22, 2009
“It was by faith that Moses left the land of Egypt, not fearing the king’s anger. He kept right on going because he kept his eyes on the one who is invisible.” Hebrews 11:27 (NLT)
It is funny how one thought leads to another, then another and another. Sometimes I try to stop where I am in the thinking process and retrace the mental steps that led me to the current thought. The caboose on today’s thought train was the George Strait song “I Saw God Today.”
Just walked down the street to the coffee shop
Had to take a break
I’d been by her side for eighteen hours straight
Saw a flower growin’ in the middle of the sidewalk
Pushin’ up through the concrete
Like it was planted right there for me to see
The flashin’ lights, the honkin’ horns
All seemed to fade away
In the shadow of that hospital at 5:08
I saw God today (Rodney Clawson; Monty Criswell; Wade Kirby)
I got to George Strait’s song from a prior thought I read in Philip Yancey's book, Prayer. Yancey said as he looks for God in the everydayness of life, “aha” moments “catch me by surprise: a surge of gratitude, a pang of compassion. But they catch me, I have learned, only when I am looking for them,” (Prayer, p. 183).
I have come to believe we can indeed see the One “who is invisible.” I know it is subjective and not objective and that my “seeing” is an act of faith, an interpretation of what I see. In this hospital, I get glimpses of God from time to time.Yesterday I saw God in the face mother’s grief, a young woman’s heart for soldiers far from home, a co-worker’s courage in the face of illness, a volunteer’s determination to be God’s loving presence for a difficult patient and a housekeeper who is as gracious as her name.
What do you see?
Blessings to you all,
Jerald
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Confession of a Worrier
Glimmers
July 31, 2009
“I will never fail you. I will never abandon you.”( Joshua 1:5, Hebrews 13:5)
I am a worrier. There, I said it. I have heard all the reasons why a person of faith shouldn’t worry. I even have a little poem I memorized from a sermon I preached twenty years ago about worry; “Worry never climbed a hill, worry never paid a bill, worry never led a horse to water, worry never did a thing you’d think it oughta.” And still I worry.
I used to worry if I’d get a job when I finished college. Then I worried about finding someone to share my life with me. I worried about our children (well, I still worry about them-the hazards of being a parent) and I have worried over my career. Now, I worry about retirement a lot. Will I be healthy enough to enjoy it? Will I have enough money?
I remember a corny joke, the kind that’s safe for preachers to tell from the pulpit, about worry. As the plane ascended the airline hostess noticed the man gripping the armrests of his seat so tightly that his knuckles were white. And so was his collar. “Reverend, why are you so afraid?” she asked. “ Doesn’t the Bible say ‘I am with you always?’” Tightening his grip, he looked up at her and said, “NO!” “It says ‘LO I am with you always!’”
In the last Glimmers, I talked about The Shack, written by Wm. Paul Young and how the statement “if anything matters, everything matters” had been such an encouragement to me. Another passage in the book caused me to smile and repent in quick succession. Jesus is talking to Mack and says, “Mack, do you realize that your imagination of the future, which is almost always dictated by fear of some kind, rarely, if ever, pictures me with you”(p. 144).
Ouch.
Blessings to you all,
Jerald
July 31, 2009
“I will never fail you. I will never abandon you.”( Joshua 1:5, Hebrews 13:5)
I am a worrier. There, I said it. I have heard all the reasons why a person of faith shouldn’t worry. I even have a little poem I memorized from a sermon I preached twenty years ago about worry; “Worry never climbed a hill, worry never paid a bill, worry never led a horse to water, worry never did a thing you’d think it oughta.” And still I worry.
I used to worry if I’d get a job when I finished college. Then I worried about finding someone to share my life with me. I worried about our children (well, I still worry about them-the hazards of being a parent) and I have worried over my career. Now, I worry about retirement a lot. Will I be healthy enough to enjoy it? Will I have enough money?
I remember a corny joke, the kind that’s safe for preachers to tell from the pulpit, about worry. As the plane ascended the airline hostess noticed the man gripping the armrests of his seat so tightly that his knuckles were white. And so was his collar. “Reverend, why are you so afraid?” she asked. “ Doesn’t the Bible say ‘I am with you always?’” Tightening his grip, he looked up at her and said, “NO!” “It says ‘LO I am with you always!’”
In the last Glimmers, I talked about The Shack, written by Wm. Paul Young and how the statement “if anything matters, everything matters” had been such an encouragement to me. Another passage in the book caused me to smile and repent in quick succession. Jesus is talking to Mack and says, “Mack, do you realize that your imagination of the future, which is almost always dictated by fear of some kind, rarely, if ever, pictures me with you”(p. 144).
Ouch.
Blessings to you all,
Jerald
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Make the Call
I took the photograph on the blog page a couple of years ago. It is in the middle of the Golden Gate Bridge. My wife and I were in San Francisco because I was attending a conference with the Association of Professional Chaplains. My friend, Keith Munford, and his wife, Pam were there too. They had a car rental and we went with them to explore some of the surrounding area. We walked across the Golden Gate Bridge, then went to Muir Woods and finished the day with dinner at Scoma's in Sausilito. It was a memorable day with good friends.
When I was going through my pictures file to select one for the blog page, I came across this one of the bridge sign and it caught my attention again. Though records are incomplete, it is estimated that 1200 to 1500 people have ended their lives by jumping from the Golden Gate Bridge. The deck is 245 feet above the frigid, turbulent waters and a jumpers reach speeds of nearly 90 mph before hitting the surface. Only the seriously suicidal take the plunge. Thus the sign.
It is simple and straighforward. Crisis Counseling. There is Hope! Make the Call! Followed by the warning that jumping is nearly 100% fatal. One of the striking things about the sign is that it has no phone number! (As I recall, other signs do have a phone number).
People who tell others that "you just have to have faith" are like that sign. Wanting in the information department. Faith is transitive. It requires an object. A "Someone" to believe. There is a Someone. Jeremiah 33:2-3 has sometimes been called God's phone number. 2-3"This is God's Message, the God who made earth, made it livable and lasting, known everywhere as God: 'Call to me and I will answer you. I'll tell you marvelous and wondrous things that you could never figure out on your own.' "
Make the Call.
Glimmer Man
When I was going through my pictures file to select one for the blog page, I came across this one of the bridge sign and it caught my attention again. Though records are incomplete, it is estimated that 1200 to 1500 people have ended their lives by jumping from the Golden Gate Bridge. The deck is 245 feet above the frigid, turbulent waters and a jumpers reach speeds of nearly 90 mph before hitting the surface. Only the seriously suicidal take the plunge. Thus the sign.
It is simple and straighforward. Crisis Counseling. There is Hope! Make the Call! Followed by the warning that jumping is nearly 100% fatal. One of the striking things about the sign is that it has no phone number! (As I recall, other signs do have a phone number).
People who tell others that "you just have to have faith" are like that sign. Wanting in the information department. Faith is transitive. It requires an object. A "Someone" to believe. There is a Someone. Jeremiah 33:2-3 has sometimes been called God's phone number. 2-3"This is God's Message, the God who made earth, made it livable and lasting, known everywhere as God: 'Call to me and I will answer you. I'll tell you marvelous and wondrous things that you could never figure out on your own.' "
Make the Call.
Glimmer Man
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