wrestling – Salvaged Faith

Sometimes… God’s will can kiss my @$$

Posted on March 7, 20124 Comments

This week started out rough. I thought I had an inkling about something very amazing about to happen – but it was going to bring a whole lot of added stress into my life as well. I spent three whole days psyching myself up about it – so much so that I had pretty much accepted it was going to happen and was excited.

I had a moment however on Monday night when I realized I should pray about it. I realized that just because I, personally, wanted this to happen, did not mean it was the best thing in the world for me or my ministry or my family. And that’s kind of what I preached about on Sunday, so I figured I had better take my own advice. or Paul’s advice. whichever.

So… I committed to not only praying about it, but that the next morning I was going to ask the small group at the church to pray with me that God’s will would be done in said situation.

Tuesday morning at 8:45, the news came. It wasn’t going to happen. The thing I had suddenly been excited for wasn’t going to work out. End of story.

(I know I’m being cryptic here… but bear with me… sometimes we can’t tell all of our secrets!)

I wrestle at times with making firm statements about God’s will. John Piper has recieved a lot of flack this past week for claiming that the tornadoes that ripped through the lower midwest and southeast were God’s will. I tend to hesitate when making proclamations about nature. I hesitate when one person who prayed fervently was spared and another who prayed fervently was killed. I do believe that God acts and moves among us. I do believe that God is present with us in every situation. But do sometimes things just happen? Does nature just run its course sometimes? Our sinful decisions have consequences and sometimes we have to blame ourselves rather than God.

But then there are all of these places in the scriptures where God brings out the battering ram and thunder and lightning and seems to lay the smack down. I would not for one minute say that God doesn’t have the power/ability/just reasons to unleash holy terror. Heck, I try to be benevolent and good and sometimes I want to call down a thunderbolt or two upon my youth! (just kidding… I love you guys… most of the time!)

All of that to say, I never know what to do about God’s will. I don’t know when to claim something was God’s will or not. I am not always sure how to discern God’s will.

In our weekly lenten study, I shared that one the greatest tools we have available to us in the Wesleyan tradition are the means of grace: prayer, bible study, christian conferencing, communion, tithing, visiting the sick and in prison, etc… But we have to DO them in a way that really focuses our attention to God. We can’t go through the motions. For an example: When I put my money in the offering plate, I have to say to God – I’m giving this to you… I’m trusting you with it… I’m trusting that you will help me to be faithful with it and all of my resources. It’s not just about doing our “duty” – its about learning to truly depend upon God. It is about aligning ourselves with God’s will.

And I have been trying to do that. I have been trying to trust and pray and listen a whole lot more intentionally lately.

So when I decided Monday night that I truly wanted God’s will to be done… I meant it. And I meant it that I was going to ask others to pray with me. I truly wanted to know God’s will. I wanted that to be the guide for this situation.

And on Tuesday morning… I didn’t like the answer I got.

In other times in my life, I wouldn’t have even thought about God. I would have thought about how dumb the situation was. I would have had a little pity party for myself. But because I was trying so hard to listen, the simple reality of God’s will smacked me upside the head.

I don’t like it. I’m not sure I completely understand. I wish the answer would change. And part of me really does want to say, “kiss my @$$,” and go do my own thing.

But if anything, this time of Lent has taught me, personally, that our lives are not our own. If I want to follow Jesus – I have to follow him all the way. And that means there are some really good things in this world that I don’t need.

Tonight, we sang in worship a really upbeat version of – “I have decided to follow Jesus.” It can be sung SO slow, but Lent has been all about joy, so we just owned it and sang it with some gusto. It was a reminder that I may not like God’s will, but I have decided to follow. I have decided to keep the cross before me. And I’m not turning back. I can do this with God’s help. I truly believe that God will help me. So be it. Amen.

Taking Authority

Posted on January 10, 20112 Comments

In her book Reframing Hope: Vital Ministry in a New Generation, Carol Howard Merritt discusses the “diffusion of authority,” the empowerment of the fringes, and the “celebration of noncelebrity” in her chapter on Redistributing Authority.

As I read those words, I began to feel a strange sense of validation for what I am doing. I have a voice. I have the ability to write. I have a conversation that I want to start. I want to participate. But I don’t want to do it alone.

This whole blogging adventure has been, fundamentally, about maintaining the connections with colleagues and schools of thought that have fed my theological and ecclesiastical development. It is about hanging on tightly to those threads of tradition that have sustained my faith. It is about picking up pieces scrapped by others, deemed unworthy, and trying to figure out what we need to hear about God from them.

And at times, it seems silly.

At times, I find myself floundering around, trying to make sense of the world around me.

At times, I’m wrestling by myself with questions that have no real answers.

At times, I feel a little overwhelmed by the system and all of the things that I am supposed to do, all of the details of ministry.

At times, I really do not have the time to be a part of this kind of time intensive dialogue.

At times, I don’t have the energy to fight the man and to call out the parts of our tradition and practice that trouble me.

And at times, I really really really want to share something and it’s not appropriate to do so yet. Not enough time and space has passed to allow the insights of a particular experience to be shared.

So I give up here and there. I flounder. I don’t claim the authority I do have. I feel that what I’m doing here is not really very important.

But then, today, I find myself surrounded by colleagues in ministry at an orders event and suddenly my name is called out for all to hear. Someone has pointed to my blog as a place where vital theological reflection by United Methodists is being done.

And I feel humbled.

And a little embarassed.

And more than a little encouraged to keep doing what I am doing.

To take authority.

To keep writing.

To keep thinking.

To continue the conversation.

To accept that although I may be a young pastor, a small town pastor, someone on the fringe, someone who hasn’t yet put in my years, that I still have something worthy to say.

To give myself space and permission to keep writing.

the potential demise of “the beast” and whether or not God cares.

Posted on February 10, 2010Leave a comment

Those of you who know me on facebook or twitter will be aware by now that I was in a car accident on Monday. “The Beast,” as many affectionately call my dad’s car is in a ditch somewhere. While I’ve had my share of bumps and taps in a car while driving (I have both bumped a car in front of me at a stop sign and been bumped from behind at a light… and then there was the whole hitting of the cement pole thing that is a very long story) – and even was in another accident when we hit a deer on the interstate, this accident was very scary.

As I have had to recount the incident dozens of times – both in my own head and to insurance adjustors and to family and friends, I’m not necessarily going to do that again here. In part, because it all happened so quickly… or so slowly… I can’t tell if time was speeding by or slowed down and everything took place in half a second or half a minute. All I know is that I had changed lanes to avoid/give room to a vehicle that lost control and as that vehicle came back into my new lane, I hit the brakes and prayed that we wouldn’t collide.

We did.

As a pastor, I’ve thought about where God has been in all of this. It’s easy to both be absolutely grateful and absolutely pissed off. On the one hand, no one was really hurt in the accident and I am utterly thankful for that. It could have been worse – much worse. On the other hand, it could appear that all of those prayers for safe travel fell on deaf ears. I not only was in an accident, but I also couldn’t make it to my ordination interview. Really, God? Was that a part of your plan?

But then as a person of faith who wrestles with God quite often, I also find myself not wanting to do either of those things. I find myself not really wanting to place God in the situation at all. I chose to drive that day. The other driver also chose to drive. The wind changed directions, the road got icy, stuff happens and we collided. No where in that entire scenario does God have to intervene. There were choices made and actions taken and then there were appropriate consequences.

I guess it’s the battle between free will and determinism that is wrestling inside of me. I read the scriptures that says God knows the number of hairs on my head and that God won’t leave me or forsake me. But does that also mean that I think God will protect me from bad things happening my entire life? Not at all. Do I think that all actions have consequences – good and bad? Sure. Does that mean that God intentionally sends things into our lives to teach us lessons or to punish us? Not really.

I know that my little “adventure” on the interstate nowhere near compares to disasters and tragedies and heartache that others have felt in their lives and that we all will continue to experience in this life. At the root, however, I guess what I’m wrestling with here is a question of theodicy.

And the only answer I can come up with is that God was present in how we chose to respond to the situation. The woman who was in the other car and I sat down at a Perkins Restaurant over a pot of coffee and some pie and we talked. We got to know one another a little better and talked about our families and why we were both on the road that day. We cried together over what had happened. And we knew that despite it all, in spite of being far from home and not knowing what to do next, that we were not alone. We experienced table fellowship and allowed this yucky thing that happened to bring us closer together. We felt hope in the midst of despair.

If that’s not God… then I don’t know what is.