"Purple Heart" in life

"Bear each others' burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ." (Galatians 6:2)

Each Lent, it's useful to me to take up a spiritual reflection. This year I have been trying to become more aware of the burdens that other people carry. It helps me be more loving to them, more considerate, less likely to be impatient or critical. And how can we "bear each others' burdens" without knowing them? 

When a soldier has been wounded, they may be considered for a Purple Heart -- a medal that recognizes an injury received, and in general injuries are not forgotten. Life in general has no Purple Heart -- at least not officially. And yet life is full of "walking wounded" who may not get recognition, honor, or respect for what they have endured. When I find myself tending toward critical thoughts of someone, it's helpful to run through the Purple Hearts they have earned in life, whether struggles with illness, disability, loss, or any other hardship. 

May I slow down my critical thoughts, and respect and honor people for the hardships they have faced. That is one help in bearing each others' burdens. 

Forgiveness versus Excuses

I've begun to think we may not always "forgive" when we think we have forgiven someone. Speaking for myself, I'm more likely to have excused them -- that is, I have found an excuse that I found acceptable and so what was done was not really wrong, all things considered. Or I've evaluated a hurt as too small to worry about, and given it a pass. "It's not wrong enough to worry about." And it may be true, but it's also not forgiveness. 

When I'm the one in the wrong, my first try is usually for a pass (not wrong enough to worry about) or an excuse (there was a good enough reason or a greater good, so not really wrong). It's when there is no excuse that I need to squarely face the idea of forgiveness. The distinction is important because if all my thoughts of forgiveness are tangled in with thoughts of "accepting an excuse", then any talk of forgiveness can seem like excusing the inexcusable.  If my thoughts of forgiveness are tangled in with thoughts of "give it a pass" then any talk of forgiveness seems like claiming the problem isn't worth worrying about. And so forgiveness itself can look offensive or immoral, if it's considered to be no different than giving a pass or making excuses. 

Forgiveness -- as opposed to accepting excuses -- only comes into the picture when there is no way to give something a pass, no excuse that can be accepted. Forgiveness comes into the picture when there are human beings in that situation, who have done things that cannot be excused. Forgiveness comes into the picture when I realize I am one of those people too. When I sing "Amazing Grace" I sing it for me. I have real faults, not just resume faults. 

With that in mind, if someone is trying for redemption, let me not be the undertow dragging them back. If someone has gotten to the point of acknowledging they do not deserve a pass, and they do not have an excuse, then there might be redemption. 

"Even the demons believe in God" (James 2:19)

The new pastor of my congregation asked an interesting thought-question recently: If the demons believe in God, what exactly do they believe about him? 

• They believe that God exists (James 2:19)
• They believe that Jesus is the Holy One of God (Luke 4:34)
• They believe that God will bring an end to their evil reign (Luke 4:34)
• But they do not work for mercy; they are "the accuser" (Revelation 12:10)

When we accuse each other -- even with cause -- we often do the work of the opposition. 

Wisdom's truest treasure

There was a song sung by my Christian college group, "Lord, you are ... ". I always liked that song and have kept it as part of my devotions over the years. I've added a new verse, privately, and thought I might put it here: 

Lord, you are wisdom's truest treasure

Seeking you rekindles our hope

Loving you refills our hearts full measure

Our hearts are restless til they rest in you

For those familiar: Yes, that last line is based on St Augustine. 

Salt and light: Being countercultural in a good way

"You are the salt of the earth ... you are the light of the world." -- Jesus, in the Sermon on the Mount

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus taught us plenty of ways to be salt and light in the world: from reconciling with our neighbors, to not insulting them, to blessing those who curse us and praying for those who persecute us, to greeting people regardless of whether there is an expectation of return. 

In our current culture, reverence and respect are also counter-cultural. When someone calls humor "irreverent", it is meant as a compliment. There is an entire genre of comedy devoted to insults and put-downs. Public dialog is often mean-spirited and rude. There are some easy opportunities for us to be light in a dark time by simply not participating in the casual cruelty of our age. 

"Do not judge, lest you be judged" - We are often rushed to approve or condemn based on slim amounts of questionable information. May I not take the bait. 

"Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us" - Our current culture seems to delight in finding fault. I would have so few friends if people treated me in the same way. 

These are just some private ponderings on how to follow through on what we have been taught. Thanks for your patience in reading!

The Sabbath - beyond "should I or shouldn't I?"

When we Christians discuss the Sabbath, the conversations usually follow predictable paths. Does it apply to Gentiles? Does it apply to Christians? Does it apply under the New Covenant? Does our observance (or non-observance) come from faith and from honest conviction? Are we fully persuaded in our own minds, with a clean conscience? Those are all good and useful questions. They also share a certain focus: Are we doing what God requires? Again, no objection to the question whether we're doing what God requires. There's just more to the picture that tends not to be considered in the conversation. 

A good command is not arbitrary. It is part of a bigger picture. There is a spirit of the law in addition to the letter of the law. This post is not written with the intent to persuade anyone to change their mind on whether or not to keep the letter of the law. It is to expand the focus, to re-introduce the spirit of the law. 

For instance, there are laws such as "You shall not steal" and "You shall not murder" and "You shall not commit adultery" and "You shall not covet anything that belongs to your neighbor." The spirit of these laws can be summed up as "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you," or "You shall love your neighbor as yourself." The spirit of the law is higher and deeper and more resonant than the letter of the law, and is the motivating force that shapes the letter of the law. The spirit of the law of course includes the specific ways we do not take advantage of our neighbor; rightly done it also moves us to love our neighbor. 

The Sabbath holds a unique place among the commandments given at Sinai. It is the only one of the ten commandments given about how we use our time. It is the only one of the ten commandments given about ensuring that workers and even working animals are not over-worked. Jesus taught that "the Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath." The book of Exodus refers to the time of creation, that on the seventh day God rested: it is the day in which God is said to have delighted in the world, remarking that all of creation is very good in every way. It is made for us as a blessing and a gift. 

Consider too how often the Old Testament uses numbers symbolically. In that symbolism the number 7 is associated with an appointed time for blessing, rest, and celebration. Each week the seventh day is blessed with rest and holiness. Each year, the seventh month is blessed with the Day of Atonement,. As time continues, the seventh year is a sabbath rest for the land which is not cultivated during the year. Further, after the 7 x 7th year, the next year is a Jubilee year associated with forgiveness of debts and with restoration of property that has been lost to the larger family over the years: whether the family loss was through misfortune or mismanagement, the loss is restored in God's appointed time. In the book of Daniel, 70 x 7 years is the designated time of waiting for the Messiah, with days of restoration. 

When we remember the Sabbath by keeping it holy, we often think in terms of refraining from mundane work. And sometimes I'll see a bumper sticker that tells us, if we like weekends, to thank labor unions. If we like weekends, I'd rather thank organized religion. Yet the non-work that generally fills weekends isn't necessarily remembering the Sabbath or keeping it holy. Holiness, in Scripture, is more than mere separation. It has to do with what is designated for the beauty and holiness of God, for the presence of God which is accompanied by blessing and restoration and renewal. 

How could a loving God ... ?

Today in Bible class someone was discussing a child who had died in a plane crash; those following current events this week will be familiar with it. While we may grieve less over the loss of someone who is old, the death of a child is always seen as a tragedy. And someone in class had been faced with the question, "How can God let that happen?" 

To be clear, the questioner was not directly affected by the loss of the unknown child, but was affected by the fact that we live in a broken world. I don't think we go wrong there to express confidence in God's goodness, in God's love. God raises the dead. 

When we speak to those directly affected: we mourn with those who mourn. When we speak to those not directly affected but who are troubled by the tragedy -- and when we too are naturally troubled by tragedy -- the time may come sooner to remember God's faithfulness to the world he made.