Posts Tagged ‘faith’

Three Weeks, Three Wishes

January 3, 2017

Trump’s scheduled inauguration is only three weeks away now, and people who fear what may happen to the people of this country, and indeed the world, are anxious. It comes to me to remind them, and myself, that we all have the option of prayer.

Now if we are not sure whether there is a God who hears and answers prayer, now is a good time to experiment and find out. If our consciences feel so unclean that we shrink from approaching God, now is a good time to ask God to forgive our sins so that we may dare to approach and ask a further request, which may be – wait, I’ll get to Trump in due time – which may be that God wash us so clean of our sins that we lose the will to sin any further.

Now, if God has heard and answered us, we’re now fit to remain in the Holy Presence and make a third request. If my readers are nervous because this is reminding them of those folk-tales in which the main character is given three wishes and makes bad use of them, now’s the time to ask God’s advice as to how to proceed: should we pray for a change in the outside world or for a further change in ourselves?

Myself, I’m inclined to ask for a further change in myself rather than any outward change in the world. Before asking stones to be turned into bread, it seems wiser to ask for the patience to endure hunger. So I’ve asked to have my faith, hope, and love increased. There’s a precedent for the first one of these requests recorded in Luke 17:5, where the Apostles, as if out of nowhere, ask Jesus: “Increase our faith.”

But why not ask to have our love increased, too? If a Trump presidency seems to threaten a four-year rule of lovelessness, who can remedy that but ourselves? Let’s do an assessment of our present capacity to love: are we finding it hard to love Trump and the people he’s intending to install in positions of power? Remember, loving our enemy doesn’t necessarily mean wanting them to get their way: their getting their own way may be the worst thing that could happen to them. To me, loving Trump means wishing for his repentance, or his speedy removal from office before he earns any more bad karma for himself.

For those of my readers who may have voted for Trump, and who think of “the enemy” as the people opposed to him, are you having trouble loving your enemies? The same principles apply.

Myself, I can see that I need an expanded capacity to love, if only because I anticipate a lot of people getting hurt under a Trump presidency. A lot of us are going to need to start caring for our neighbors more – a lot more. I can’t count on a Trump government to care for them.

As for the gift of hope, I am praying for that very earnestly now. I think you’ll understand why. But I’m reminded that Jesus said, “Ask, and it shall be given you.”

Black Lives Matter in the Kingdom of God

July 12, 2016

There are many men and women living today who can witness that the kingdom of God is no mere figure of speech, but a real government whose citizenship they enjoy, under whose protection they walk, and to which they’re bound by civic duties they discharge gladly, even when it costs them pain. Whether or not they speak a Christian language, they’ve said in their heart, “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done,” and their rightful Ruler has graciously responded by so arranging events that they can no longer doubt the exercise of a mysterious and benign oversight over their steps, even if their path may lead through unfair treatment, disease, disability, oppression, and abuse, to the death that eventually comes to us all. Though this may be incomprehensible to people to whom it hasn’t happened, something has occurred to awaken a faith in them that may afterwards be dimmed by setbacks, but can no longer be snuffed out.

A necessary step in this development of faith is a growth of trust in the character of God. We might begin with the intuition that, full though the world may be of injustice, our sense of justice must have been built into us by a Creator who loves justice also. (“He that planted the ear, shall he not hear? he that formed the eye, shall he not see?” Psalm 94:9 KJV). Then how can such a God allow the cruel to kill the innocent? We don’t know why God allows what God allows, but our hearts assure us that God never wills evil. For God is love (1 John 4:8), and Love desires what benefits all. If we are made “in God’s likeness,” this likeness includes the freedom to choose the right thing or the wrong; and fear, hate, selfishness and ignorance often tempt us to stray. But faith gives us hope that God corrects wrongdoers, in this life or another, and that God “wipes away all tears from the eyes” (Rev. 7:17, 21:4) of those who have been wronged.

Black lives matter in the kingdom of God, where God delights in all of God’s children, and wishes us all to give one another joy and not grief. This can only happen when long-standing patterns of injustice have been corrected, not by vengeance-begetting vengeance, but by truth and reconciliation. But for this process to begin, someone must go first. And to help create an atmosphere in which it’s safe to go first – I speak especially to my fellow enjoyers of white privilege – you must ask forgiveness of someone you’ve wronged, or extend forgiveness to someone who’s wronged you. It needn’t be across racial lines; it can be your own parent, partner or child. If you engage in a predatory or oppressive practice, even one as “mild” as hurtful speech about absent third parties, you must stop. Contagious hard-heartedness has spread far enough. It’s time for a contagion of tenderness.

A Personal Mission Statement

March 14, 2014

God is love, and calls us all to forgive all offenses and adopt God’s will as our own.

I’ve also discerned that God calls me to preach and exemplify this call to repentance of our selfish ways, and bear witness to the new life that follows on our being forgiven and healed from estrangement from God, which is this common fear-dominated condition called sin. I experience and understand this new life as a life in Jesus Christ, who lives both in God and among us, guiding, directing, warning, empowering, gathering, healing and perfecting all who will come to Him, whether they call Him by that name or some other.

I’ve discerned that I’m called to serve Jesus Christ, in His name and power, as a teacher of His gospel, persuader, comforter, hearer of confessions, and conveyer of His forgiveness and His healing. As I understand my calling, I’m to do this chiefly, but not exclusively, within the Religious Society of Friends.

I ask the help of a spiritual care committee to help me grow in this ministry, and to correct me if I should stray from it.

A correction: my God-knower is not asleep

December 7, 2013

Yesterday I posted an outpouring here that began “Help, help! My God-knower has fallen asleep,” and this morning I feel called to report that I’ve been corrected.  My God-knowing organ, or faculty, is my conscience, as Quakers have been insisting for centuries, and it was awake enough to rebuke me, and, thank God, I was alert enough to pick up the rebuke.

Last night, in conversation, I referred to a third party as “a prick,” although I qualified my statement by saying that I sometimes felt annoyed by the man, but could see his admirable qualities and his unique value to the community, and made it a point to pray for him. I then retired to the bedroom, where I found that a loosely-capped fountain pen in my breast pocket had come undone and left a big ugly stain on what had been my favorite shirt. And that wasn’t all: during the evening I’d developed a painful inflammation on the right side of my tongue. (“Probably viral,” I’d thought. “It’ll pass soon enough.”) The inflammation was reduced this morning, but still there. The two mishaps, with my pen and my tongue, were odd enough coincidences to set me to querying myself when I sat for morning worship: was there a message for me in them? And yes, there was.

I’m called to a ministry of healing prayer, and I’m not to speak ill of a brother or sister for whom Christ died. Since Christ died for all, that means I’m not to speak ill of anyone. I may say, truthfully, that so-and-so angers or annoys me, or has hurt me, or in my eyes frequently exhibits bad judgment, a weakness of character, or behavior that I find unacceptable.  But whoever it is, I’m under a commandment to love him or her, and if I belittle a person by reducing him to one (unjustly) ill-famed body part, I’ve weakened my own prayers for him and proven myself a hypocrite as far as my ministry of healing prayer goes. The whole third chapter of the Epistle of James addresses this: “Out of the same mouth proceedeth blessing and cursing. My brethren, these things ought not so to be. Doth a fountain send forth at the same place sweet water and bitter?”

Of all things I do that I wouldn’t want to weaken, I don’t want to weaken my prayers for others’ good. Patanjali warns that even to take satisfaction in the humiliation or suffering of others “bears fruit in endless suffering and ignorance,” and urges us to use that thought to correct other thoughts that may infect our heart (Yoga Sutras 2:34). There’s enough suffering and ignorance in the world already.

My blog-posting before the “Help, help!” one was entitled “A heart that’s right in the sight of God,” and in it I revealed that I was tempted to call some persons “damnable blasphemers,” and “rolled Ezekiel 16:63 around in my mouth like a delicious throat-lozenge of fire.” Well, it shouldn’t surprise me to get an inflammation in my mouth from such a throat-lozenge, I reflected. Ezekiel 16:63 reads, in part, “thou mayest… never open thy mouth any more because of thy shame, when I am pacified toward thee for all that thou hast done.” For a moment I experienced myself as standing silent before God, forbidden to open my mouth, even in prayer. It was not a pleasant situation to be in. Then I felt permission granted.

Oh, and one more thing: neither am I to speak ill of myself. I erred; I was corrected; I repented; I felt forgiven, but instructed to write up the experience and share it. My tongue’s now almost back to normal, and most of the stain’s washed out of the shirt.

And if you, like me, grieve that our God-knowing faculty isn’t better developed, know that God surely understands our grief and is working on the problem. Note that Jesus addressed the problem in the parable of the rich man and Lazarus (Luke 16:19-31) and in John 14:8-9; the Apostles address it in 2 Corinthians 3:16-18, in 1 John 2:27 and 4:7-8, and elsewhere.