Hello from Pennsylvania, and the hope that spring will still arrive,
I, as former pastor, a life-long Lutheran, somewhat a Bonhoeffer scholar, and a person who believes deeply in the power of the sacraments, placing the word dangers and faithfulness as something consequential of the other might seem confusing. And yet let me begin here: faith is itself confusing (at least for me), and if it is such and has eternal ramifications, it is also dangerous. Let me ruminate in this space today about that. I guess what I want to believe is somehow the Holy Spirit will guide my thoughts and my words that what I write might serve more than just my confusion.
Recently, especially over the last couple weeks, I have found myself exceedingly emotional. As I watch a show, tears are streaming down my face, and this is happening three or four times a day. Again, in the spirit of honesty, I used to cry watching Little House on the Prairie, and the end of movies like Dead Poets Society or Ladyhawke can still evoke tears in spite of the dozens of times I have watched them. And yet, lately I have been watching all ten seasons of JAG, and the faucets in my eyes are working well, and perhaps overtime.
I have always pondered the concept of God’s active role within our world; wondering if the Creator is more along the lines of a Deistic Being than I wish. I remember from my own experience of losing a brother to tending to a 23 year old mother whose 2 year old was diagnosed with acute Leukemia, from the death of students during my tenure as a college professor (which means they were barely into their 20s) to a student involved in a seemingly simple car accident resulting in a TBI, questioning the will of God. With my own seminary education, from systematic courses to pastoral care, I am well acquainted with the appropriate responses to such dilemmas. The mother noted above occurred the summer I did my CPE at St. Luke’s Regional Medical Center the summer of 1984. When I was asked to visit her in the ER, she had just received both the diagnosisa and prognosis for her child. They were both dire. As I entered her room, wearing my clergy shirt and collar, the mother feigned a smile and said, “I do not believe God causes bad things, but can you tell me what me what good comes from this?” The first half of her statement was an incredible gift because it removed the possibility of claiming something so horrendous was the Will of God. It removed the need to argue an incredibly foolish statement often made by “well-meaning” ridiculously ignorant Christians who might say something along the lines of “God must have needed him more than you.” That interaction with this young mother was one of the most frightening, and profoundly important, events of my summer rotation. What degree of involvement, to what extent does Divine intervention occur in our daily lives? Would it be helpful to actually know? I do not believe it would be helpful, and, in fact, I believe it would be beyond counterproductive. And I also realize that some who struggle with any concept of a creator, a deity, God, might argue I am taking the easy day out.
Much like knowing too much or having a profound sense of accurate anticipation for the future can often be as much of a burden as a gift, I believe that is why faith is such a powerful and valuable possibility. The confidence in things hoped for; the assurance of things not seen (Hebrews 11:1) provides a framework for this thing we refer to as faith. It undergirds so much more than just our sense of the eternal. We refer to this concept and practice it in every aspect of our lives. We have faith in the concept, the possibility if we work hard and do the right thing, if we are honest and consistent in what we do, if we are reasonable and kind in our dealings with others, our lives will reflect that through living a more fulfilling and successful life. And yet no where is that promised. If we are honest and faithful in our familial or spousal relationships, we will be more likely to live a happy and loving life. And yet . . . However, if we did not believe in that chance, no one would ever take such a chance. When we graduate from college or some other degree program, we believe that hard work will make a difference, but does it always happen? And when it doesn’t how often do we place the blame on God, or that somehow we want to feel that God was not fair? Faith is essential to our concept of how, be it in our temporal or eternal world, and yet, as noted in the title, there is a danger in that.
The danger is in the consequence. The danger is in feeling disillusioned, in wondering if it matters, either in the short-term or more profoundly in eternity. And yet, I remember what someone once said to me about the answer to prayer. As the conditional beings we are, we believe the only answer to prayer is the one we want. This wise person counseled me, reminding me there are multiple answers to prayer: yes, no, and not yet. I believe it is the not yet that is most diffcult for us. We want things on our terms, on our time schedule. It is about control. And yet that is about giving up that control and power. That is another danger . . . it is about letting go of something to some extent, and sometimes completely. Letting go of our need to control is counter intuitive to our humanity. It is frightening and, therefore, again, dangerous to us. As I look back at my life, the times things to go more awry, most unsuccessfully, were the times I needed to let go and allow others to be more in charge, times I needed to step back and be willing to listen rather than to speak, the times I needed to have faith that what should happen could.
Even now, there are so many things I want to be more actively in control of, but the last months have been a primer if you will, perhaps a graduate course in learning that regardless of how much I want to take charge of a situation, I cannot. This is not to say I have no agency, no power over some elements of my existence. When I consider the disciples of Jesus, their lives post-Easter (and this can be argued regardless your understanding of just who Jesus was), and in the first decades of the early church, one can be fairly certain there were a number of second thoughts about the events that are much of the Gospels. There can be little doubt that even the church fathers (as well as the women) to whom we give credit for everything from Trinitarian theology to the role of Paul and the Jews and Jesus and the Gentiles (written in their pairings intentionally) had little idea that we might still be attempting to anticipate the promised return two Millennium later. For some little Midwestern boy to consider the idea of faith in their blog written on a computer in our changing world of AI is probably nothing I considered as a grew up in my church attending family life. And yet, here I am, composing and imagining, believing and yet sometimes skeptical, wishing I understood how faithfulness works even as I believe in the possibility, the reality. Is it simple dangerous or is there instead a safety in my pondering? I think it is both, and perhaps I am glad it is.
Thank you as always for reading.
Michael
thewritingprofessor55 