It has been a dark winter. I've spent the last 3-4 months existing in quiet agony. My shoulders stooped in a perpetual schlump bearing the unbearable weight of the world: coping with the theft of human rights and clean air; knowing that I can expend every last ounce of my love for creation and it's inhabitants and it will never be enough. Reeling from the slow and arduous process of untangling myself from a romantic relationship: learning that 'making right' sometimes mean letting go; finding my own place in a community I shy from claiming my own. All the while as the wind whips by and my running shoes ache for the predawn routine of flying--uninhibited by ice, snow, or ten minutes of layering up-- across pavement, pounding out problems and prayers. Mostly I am crushed by religion. By my own intellect broadened daily by textbooks, research, and lectures that laps up a deeper, more articulate understanding of religious convictions I have always leaned towards--only to turn and meet a world of underdeveloped and often harmful religiousity. I saw a knick-knack (do people still call decor that?) that boldly exclaimed "Ya'll Need Jesus" the other day. I studied it for a moment, contemplating where it stood theologically. On one hand, of course "ya'll need Jesus." Imagine a world where we lived like Jesus. Where we unquestioningly fed the hungry, clothed the naked, peacefully protested human created systems that serve only the powerful, broke bread with strangers, placed our love for one another over material security, and had mothers who elbowed us to turn water into wine! However, "ya'll need Jesus" also aligns a little too closely with Christian colonialism to be taken seriously and reduces Jesus to some miraculous Parmesan cheese-like substance that makes everything it touches taste better. Here's the problem: Christianity doesn't work that way. Our world is that of a deeply broken humanity made up of deeply broken humans. There are some problems- mental illnesses, religious conflicts, famine- that you can't just sprinkle a little Jesus on and hope it gets better. This is not to say that healthy religious communities (if there are such things) do not or cannot provide essential support nor to claim that God doesn't work within that brokenness (read the Old Testament (OT)- working with brokenness is kind of what God does). Rather this is to say that telling someone who is broken and hurting that they 'need Jesus' or should 'try praying/give it up to God' shows a rudimentary and immature understanding of God and the Bible. The OT is the story of a broken people who become healed by God only to re-break. Yes, often this brokenness is the result of human actions (if you think of individual sin I would encourage looking up the book of Amos) but there are stories (Job) that recognize sometimes bad things just happen. Terrible things: flooring, soul-crushing, unexplained and undeserved bad things happen. Things that people spend years sorting through and working out- sometimes to be met in the midst of recovery with more bad things. Problems that won't disperse with prayer alone. To tell someone or a community that is hurting that they should try and pray it out is problematic. First, it assumes that they are in a spiritual place where they can pray. There have been points in my life (days and months) where the closest I came to prayer was lobbing expletives at God. Am I ashamed for this? No. The loving, merciful, forgiving God the Bible and my mother lead me to believe in understands. Second, it indicates that their faith is not strong enough. The last thing people who are struggling (especially if their struggling involves faith) need to hear is that they aren't trying hard enough or aren't good enough. Third, it downplays the importance of therapy, community, and restructuring of corrupt social systems. All of which, depending on the problem, can play a significant role in healing. Finally, and this is perhaps the most important reason, it assumes brokenness is not a part of being a child of God. The Israelite people were a broken people. Jesus ate dinner with broken people. These broken people were God's people. You can be medicated for depression-- and still go to church for forty years, direct choir, immerse yourself in theology, and become a pastor. You can battle anxiety--and still sit atop a mountain awash with the warmth of God. You can numb yourself with the contents of a shot glass--and, in a chapel ringing with voices raised in 606, remember among God's people you are home. Brokenness and experiencing God aren't mutually exclusive. Prayer can do amazing things but it cannot be the only answer. Even at the end of this seemingly eternal winter- God brings hope in new signs of spring.
1 Comment
uncle sid
3/7/2017 08:26:08 pm
My dear, simply meet people where they are. Even those who don't know God belong to him. Remember Jesus has already provided the way home, we just have to accept it. This"way home" is for everyone. This is not a free pass to do whatever, rather a gift of God's unending love for each of us. What you choose to study and be as a profession can not change what has been laid out for you and everyone else. I have lived through abuse and walked back through it to heal. It's not what others do or say that bound me. It was me binding myself because that was how I could hate myself for what I had allowed to happen. My dear, bull, what happened was not my fault. However, I had to break the circle pattern of self destruction to move forward. Each step you learn to meet yourself where you are, just like god does. Don't preach, meet them where they are, friend them and walk with them. Bless you where you. Uncle Sid
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Elizabeth SchragAdventurer. Biblical and Theological Studies major. Borderline Vegan. Rebel with a cause. Archives
March 2017
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