“The righteous will never be shaken; they will be remembered forever… They have freely scattered their gifts to the poor, their righteousness endures forever; their horn will be lifted up high in honour” (Psalm 112:6, 9)
In the Bible, the word righteous is associated with the idea of Justice, and so to live a righteous life is to be one who acts in a Just way. Thus a righteous person is someone who acts Justly (or does what is right). In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus adds another layer of meaning to the idea of righteousness. For there he says that the righteous are those who have given the hungry something to eat, the thirsty something drink, welcomed the stranger, clothed the naked, and taken care of the sick” (Matthew 25: 35-36). For Jesus, these are the works of righteousness and set out like that, you are those he would consider righteous. Time and again we find in the Bible God urging people to live righteous lives. This is because what we do makes a difference to others. This is why Jesus also tells us to love our neighbour as much as we love ourselves. Other people’s lives can be positively affected by ours. Yet despite this, we might sometimes wonder if our work goes unnoticed, for often the good things we do appear to go unseen. Yet from the verses we read earlier, Psalm 112 invites us into a different story. For there the righteous are described as those who stand tall in the knowledge that they are living well and making choices that positively impact the lives of others. They are also gracious, compassionate, generous, and those who stand firm in the face of adversity. The righteous are those whose life and work is making a positive difference to others and for this, the Psalmist says, “they will be remembered forever… [and] their horn will be lifted high in honour” (Psalm 112:6, 9). What are we to make of this idea that the “horn” of the righteous will be lifted up in honour? Horns are often symbols of power, but in the Bible, they were also used to hold the holy oil used to anoint kings. To be holy is to be set apart by God in a special way. Every day you are also being set apart to feed the hungry, give the thirsty something to drink, welcome the stranger, clothe the naked and take care of the sick, and as you do this, you are being lifted up by God and positively transforming lives. You are the righteous ones God has called to do this holy work, and as such, God has promised you will be remembered. Your work is not just remembered by God, but also in the lives of those you serve and their families. You are the righteous ones who are freely scattering your gifts to the poor, and for this, you will be lifted up high in honour.
In 586 BCE Jerusalem fell to the Babylonian army and most of the people living there were taken into captivity. This event, known as the exile, is when life as many had known it was irrevocably changed forever, most significantly when the temple in Jerusalem was destroyed. The horror of those days and the aftermath is captured in several books of the Bible such as Lamentations, where it is said that some of those left behind in Jerusalem became so desperate for food that they were driven to eat their own children (2:20). For us living 2,500 years after the events of the exile, it can be hard to comprehend the horror and truly devastating nature of what happened then and some people's desperate response to it. Yet as I write these words our global community is in the midst of the Coronavirus pandemic. Life as we have known it has changed. Social exclusion has become the norm. People have been panic-buying. Fear has become the new normal. Our cities lie deserted; our churches are closed. As people of faith, where do we turn for spiritual support in moments such as this? What reasons do we give for why this is happening and where do we find God? The writer of Lamentations suggests it was the sins of the Jewish people that led to their suffering. Elsewhere in Scripture, exile is also understood as God's judgment for people living unjustly and not taking care of each other. Whilst there is a valid argument for saying that Covid-19 is the result of living in a less-than-perfect world and not being good stewards of creation, I cannot bring myself to consider Coronavirus as simply the judgment of God. To end there offers me no comfort. Also, judgment can quickly lead to finger-pointing and scape-goating; an all-too-often underlying cause of the violence we see in this world. Instead, I see exile as God hitting the re-set button for Israel. They were removed from a way of living they had gotten used to and were given the opportunity to reflect on their relationship with God and each other in new ways. Coronavirus is helping me re-set my life. It's making me re-think what is important in my life. For instance, earlier today I went out to buy some eggs, but the store I went to did not have any. Yet whilst I have been to stores before and not found something I needed, today that experience felt different. For the first time I experienced the fear of not having enough food, and that was new to me. Whilst food scarcity is a reality for many people in the world, I've never really felt that. I guess I've always been used to having what I want and when I want it, but with all the panic-buying going on and things running out, I'm starting to realise what living in a world of scarcity feels like, and it's making me see things very differently. As one friend reminded me, "Some of us have been in life situations where we couldn't afford to buy what we wanted when we wanted. Perhaps it is time to do mindful shopping." Recently I read these words from the prophecy of Isaiah: "See, I will create new heavens and a new earth. The former things will not be remembered, nor will they come to mind" (Isaiah 65:17). These words gave hope for those taken into exile that their situation was not the end of things. For those left behind, they too were being assured that their suffering would end. Whilst Coronavirus is a worrying health concern for us all, I believe we are being given the opportunity by God to hit the reset button in terms of our relationships with each other and the world. We have become aware of just how much our lives impact others. We have become ever more conscious of the need to live selflessly. We have witnessed the delicate nature of the relationship we have with the natural world. As such, we are now learning to live differently. We are choosing to live differently. We are seeing how our choices can make a positive difference in the lives of others and also this world. Things are changing. God is working in new ways: "See, I am doing a new thing!" (Isaiah 43:19).
Coronavirus has shown just how easy it is to take down the human species. We are fragile beings. Our health is fragile. Our relationship with the earth is fragile. Our relationship with each other is fragile. We live in fear of not having enough. We live in fear of our evident mortality. I believe much of this fear is generated by the realisation that we have been living a lie our entire lives; the lie being that our life is significant and we are entitled to live long, happy and healthy. The reality is, we deserve nothing of the kind. Coronavirus is showing us that life is a lottery. We are one illness away from no longer being here. In the midst of this disease, we hold zero bargaining chips. We are powerless over our life and the lives of others. Religion thrives in the midst of fear. The fear of death is often an impetus for people to turn their life over to a higher power, especially when the reward for doing so is the eternal preservation of the very life they fear losing. Preachers have long used the fear of death and hell as a means to call people to repent of their sins and accept Jesus. As we see the virus spreading and the number of deaths rising, Coronavirus has become a tangible reality of just how close death is to all of us. However, faith grounded in fear only works when there is something to be afraid of. What becomes of faith when people stop believing in hell, or in the case of Coronavirus, when the pandemic is over? In the Bible, in John's first letter, we read these words:
"God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them... There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love" (1 John 4:16-18)
I once professed a faith grounded in fear; the fear of hell and the fear of losing my life forever. Yet today I do not profess a faith like this. I do not follow Jesus because I fear going to hell. I came back to my faith because I saw in Jesus a different way to live. I had become deeply dissatisfied with how I was living. I did not want to live in fear any longer. In Jesus, I saw the potential to be radically different. I wanted to turn away from the self-absorbed behaviour in my life. I wanted to escape the mental hell I was in. My life had become unmanageable. I needed a higher power to save me from myself. There is much fear and uncertainty around Coronavirus, but when people stock-pile food and medical resources, or price-gouge items online, I see exactly the kind of behaviour I do not want to emulate. I do not want to live in fear. I do not want to be selfish and take advantage of others in their time of greatest need. Instead, I want to be more like Jesus. He taught us to wash and be clean for the sake of others (John 13:1-17), to be grateful for what each day brings and not worry about tomorrow (Matthew 6:25-34). He cautioned us against stockpiling (Luke 12:16-21). He taught us the importance of loving our neighbour as much as we love ourselves (Matthew 22:36-40). He showed that a life invested in love for all is a life free from fear. As such, I want to be more like him; like the one who turned the world's values upside-down. In this time when some people's lives are at stake and their personal needs great, I want our precious world's resources to be shared amongst many, not hoarded by the few. Jesus won't save you from Coronavirus, but he can save you from yourself. A prayer May we who are merely inconvenienced Remember those whose lives are at stake. May we who have no risk factors Remember those most vulnerable. May we who have the luxury of working from home Remember those who must choose between preserving their health or making their rent. May we who have the flexibility to care for our children when their schools close Remember those who have no options. May we who have to cancel our trips Remember those that have no place to go. May we who are losing our margin money in the tumult of the economic market Remember those who have no margin at all. May we who settle in for a quarantine at home Remember those who have no home. During this time when we cannot physically wrap our arms around each other, Let us yet find ways to be the loving embrace of God to our neighbors. Amen (Author Unknown)
I am 9-years old and I'm in my classroom at junior school. I'm not sure who the person was who visited our room that day or why they were there, but apparently, they were a person of note. I remember they came up to my table where I was seated along with several others. A conversation was struck up and my under-developed 9-year old brain decided to try and be humourous. I said some things I thought were funny and then the person moved on. That's as much as I can recall regarding the specific circumstances surrounding the person who came to visit that day, but what I do recall with absolute clarity are the events that unfolded after they had gone. My teacher decided to "review" the visit with the class and talk about some things that happened. Two of us were called up to the front. My classmate was told something about how they had acted well and been good. I, on the other hand, was publically admonished and told my behaviour had brought shame to the whole school. Over forty years later and I still carry the emotional scars of that day. I constantly wrestle with the belief that I am not good enough and the fear of being publically shamed. I have lived with a tremendous amount of self-doubt, and much of that has occurred in the public realm. I have this little voice inside my head (my 9-year old self) that questions my ability to do things. That little voice has hi-jacked many good things in my life over the years. Yet the paradox is that I also carry with me many stories that affirm my self-worth and my competence.
In his letter to the Philippians Paul says "I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation" (Philippians 4:12). I am struck by this idea of learning the secret of being content. Over the years I have allowed much negative self-talk to define me and limit my natural ability to do things. I have gifts, but I have allowed fear and shame to repress these. Yet within the context of my faith, I have begun to see myself differently. I have learned the secret of living differently. For example, although I get anxious prior to my hospice visits and doubt my ability to provide adequate spiritual care, I have many stories of God showing up and affirming my ministry. This usually happens when I set fear and being self-conscious aside; when I am still - when I no longer dwell on anxiety but on being calm. How do I know God is present? Because things come together, connections are made, people thank me and tell me they have been blessed, a client becomes visibly more relaxed, things change; people change... In short, there is a greater sense of love, joy, and peace.
I engage in negative self-talk far too easily, so when it comes to validating my ministry I have to step away from my thoughts. Even Jesus validated his ministry by pointing out how people's lives were being positively transformed by the things he was saying and doing (Matthew 11:2-5). I keep this in mind when 9-year old me tries hi-jack my adult life. Instead of trying to argue with the child-in-me, I affirm the knowledge that I am more than capable of doing this work and recall the many ways people's lives have been positively changed by my interactions with them. I affirm God's Spirit within me; that I am one who is deeply loved and has been called by God, and as such I have the right to do the work I do. I am now able to stand in front of anyone with my head held high. I have learned the secret of living fully into the life God has set before me. I have learned the secret of being content.
I've recently been reading the medieval mystical text The Cloud of Unknowing, the central theme of which is this:
"Through love God is known, not through the intellect: '[God] may well be loved, but not thought. By love [God] may be gotten and holden; but by thought never'" (Chapter 6)
When I walked away from my faith in 1996, it was because I felt unable to know God. I experienced a cloud of unknowing when it came to God. The chasm that existed between my mind and God's reality was too much. As a result, I denied God's existence. How could a God exist who we could never know? Over the course of twenty years, I explored the question of how we know God. I limited myself to the rational and cognitive realm, attempting to go ever further into the recesses of my mind in order to try and bridge the faith-synapse. However, the more I sought the less certainty I found. I was left realising that one can never bridge any gap between mind and reality, that we are incapable of knowing anything with any certainty. My journey back to faith began when I started to honestly accept the limits of knowledge. Most of us live within a certain naivete when it comes to the things we claim to know. We assume there is a viable connection between reality and our mind; that our mind is doing a good job receiving and processing sense-data such that we experience things correctly (thus acquiring knowledge). However, the fact is we have no way of proving this. We cannot step outside our thought-process to check if this is happening. Yet, on the other hand, we will not survive in a world where we doubt everything. So we have to tell ourselves a story that there are things that are certain and true, such as our mind's ability to know things, even though we can never prove this to be the case. For some, to admit we are not in possession of certainty is scary and opens the door to all manner of other things. For the atheist it opens the door to God; for the theist, it opens the door to unbelief. In my hospice work, I visit many people with dementia who are losing the knowledge of who they are and the life they have lived. For the religious, they are also losing knowledge of the God they have professed to believe in and worship. How do we relate to those whose knowledge is being lost and whose words are running out? How do we talk about God with those who no longer have the logical and rational capacity to do this? Surely it is in the manner the author of The Cloud speaks; that "through love God is known." Yesterday as I visited with a client I read this from Paul's letter to the Ephesians: "I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge" (Ephesians 3:17-19). I was struck by this notion that love surpasses knowledge but then realised this is my experience in hospice. Many times I find myself sitting with people, holding their hand, singing to them and gazing in love at this amazing person in front of me. I love them for who they are and the life they have lived and as I do I watch them being transformed. I watch their demeanor lift, I watch people smile more, I feel them grasp my hands ever-tightly. I watch people become utterly consumed by love. Knowledge is limited and soon passes away, but the fruit of God's love in our life remains with us and will endure forever.
An article about Narrative Therapy begins in the following way: "Imagine a narrative of your “life story” in which you are the hero of your own life, rather than the victim?" What a provocative statement; to imagine that I am the hero of my life. For too long I have considered myself to be the opposite. Under a theology of original sin, my earliest years were shaped by the notion that I am far from perfect and that nothing I can do will please God. "All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God," so Paul says in his letter to the Romans, but rather than using this idea (as it was originally intended) to draw attention to the fact that no-one can claim to be better than anyone else when it comes to our relationship with God, it has instead been weaponised and used to bring people into a state of moral, spiritual and personal despair. How can anyone claim to be the hero of their life when they are repeatedly told there is little good in them?
What is it about the human condition that we are so readily drawn to this negative view of ourselves? Why do we find it so hard to like who we are? Why do we shy away from people saying nice things about us? What is it that makes us so ready to tear down, rather than build up? In contrast, the Bible begins with the idea that humans are the pinnacle of God's creation: "God created [us] in [God's] own image; in the image of God [we were created]" (Genesis 1:27). Of course, the issue of how God did this is much debated, but the essential fact of the matter remains: God loves us. God likes us. God wants us to be here. The icing on the cake is that each time God created something new God proudly announced that it was good. God was pleased with all God made. That statement of affirmation is a "Yes!" to our being, rather than the impression that we've been treading dog poop into God's new carpet.
I am learning to speak to myself differently. I'm learning to accept that I have the tools and resources to live well in this world, both for the sake of myself and for others. However, I am also learning that I need some help doing this. I have too many false-narratives in my head; too many unhealthy conversations going on. Too much negative self-talk. This is why my day begins with a period of reading, reflection, and contemplation. I bring my life into the Divine Presence of Love. I accept that there are things I do wrong and have done wrong, but I live with the hope for potential and renewal, rather than guilt and despair. And this is not liberal wishful thinking but driven by the biblical reality that my life is valued by God.
This morning I reflected on the story of Elisha, who when he was surrounded by the armies of the king of Aram prayed that his servant would not fear for his life but instead see the world differently:
"And Elisha prayed, “Open his eyes, Lord, so that he may see.” Then the Lord opened the servant’s eyes, and he looked and saw the hills full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha" (2 Kings 6:17)
Open my eyes, Lord! Turn me outwards. Save me from being stuck inside my negative thought-patterns. Help me to keep finding you out there in the world, walking ahead of me, speaking to me through others and leading me. May my life continue to be positively changed as I live into the story of being worthy and loved, rather than never being good enough.
You may often hear Christians saying that John 3:16 is the most important verse in the Bible: "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life." The importance of this verse is stated for two reasons: 1. God sent Jesus (who then died for us), and 2. We need to accept Jesus in order to be 'saved' (or live forever in heaven). That's the short version of what is known as 'the Gospel.' However, I want to suggest that the most important verse in the Bible is actually found in Paul's letter to the Romans:
"Consider therefore the kindness and sternness of God: sternness to those who fell, but kindness to you, provided that you continue in his kindness. Otherwise, you also will be cut off." (Romans 11:22)
It's this idea of being cut off by God that's the real wake-up call for me. First some context: Paul is writing to Christians in Rome, and so the "you" here is the church (the gathered believers). The context of the verse is a discussion about how God brought the church into existence. Paul uses a gardening analogy. He asks the reader to imagine a tree, from which God removed some of the natural branches in order to graft on newer ones; the "new" here being the church. Paul's point is that it was God (through Jesus) who created the church. It was also God's decision. None of us has been involved in creating the church. All fine so far, but the really shocking point is that for Paul this is not a once-and-done thing. Listen to what he says elsewhere, "For if God did not spare the natural branches, he will not spare you either" (Romans 11:21). The Christian Church is declining in the Western World. I see this in my hospice work as more and more families I meet with express no religious affiliation. For instance, according to a 2019 survey, the Pew Research Centre records that in the US over the last decade Christian religious affiliation has dropped 12% (from 77% to 65%) and that "17% of Americans now describe their religion as “nothing in particular,”" which is up from 12% in 2009. Why are people leaving the churches? Is it because people no longer have any need for a spiritual presence in their life? Not according to my hospice visits. Despite professing 'no fixed abode' when it comes to the practice of religion, people are still very much attached to the notion of spirituality and a 'higher power'. All this leads me back to Paul's words: continue in kindness "otherwise, you also will be cut off." As I write these words it is Valentine's Day, a day on which love is celebrated. It also is a day when people are reminded of all the good that love is. Despite everything bad going on in the world, people remain drawn to this idea of love. The sad fact is that many have not experienced love in the church. On the contrary, verbal, spiritual, and even physical abuse has been the norm. No wonder people are fleeing... Yet the fact is that God's presence is made known in the good we do for each other. It is known in the presence of love. In this, I am reminded of another verse, "No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another God lives in us and [God's] love is made complete in us" (1 John 4:12). That's the simple fact of the matter. God is love; we are called to be loving. End of story! So we must ask ourselves, where the church is in decline is this because people no longer believe in or need God, or because Christians have ceased to be a loving presence in the world? Paul states it clearly that if we are unkind then God will cut us off, and a branch that is cut off from the main tree will eventually die: the Church will die... the church is dying.
