Brutally Compassionate!

Growing up on a farm in Northwestern Wisconsin might seem like a mundane way to experience childhood. There were of course times that were quite mundane, yet others were filled with adventure. As a boy, there are few things that you remember as well as your first fort, your first b.b. gun, the first time you kissed a girl, and actually liked it, the first time you got lost, the time when your parents kissed or swore in front of you, or the first fist fight.

One of my most vivid memories of childhood was the first time I was hit full in the face. My foe had worked out the very mechanics of hitting me: the need for bodily compactness, the proper fist, the assured step forward, the intent in his eyes, the virtue of a solid right. I remember thinking about it coming and an inability to move. I literally was captivated by its trajectory. I remember vividly the sound. If you’ve never been struck in the face your better off for it, but if you can identify, you will recollect the high pitch ringing. This ringing is so invasively present that you want to look to see if anyone else can hear it; of course they cannot. The ringing contributes to your overall sense of delirium. This feeling of floating, then the actual pain hits you and your little break in the day comes crashing down. One becomes keenly aware of the moments that follow.

What I remember of the instance was this sense that I had just achieved something. You know, it was as if I had entered into the realm of manhood. The place reserved for warriors, rakes, and cowboys. As I stood there stunned, because it takes a great deal to knock someone down. I was filled with this urgency to compose myself, and try not to cry. I didn’t. I remember taking three deep intentional breaths; the kind of breath that actually burns it goes so deep. The desire to cry was quickly replaced by a sense of rugged resilience.

A mature youngster would have thoroughly analyzed the situation and quickly discovered some very realistic problems with returning the aggression. I however was not this youngster. Not entirely sure where this impulse originated, I engaged the brute, mostly words at first. Words, vulgar words. You know the kind that you would never say in front of your grandmother. Words, which would strip him of value, dignity, or any sense of pride for his action against me. This was followed by the wind of a left coming at my chin. A near miss that was countered with a direct hit in the right eye of Goliath.

You know you would think that this would give a young guy defending himself against an infidel, a real sense of pleasure. I wanted to feel like I had just saved the day, or that I had at least asserted my will upon the mountain. Perhaps, the mountain had been conquered. However I still felt like I was in the valley. I wasn’t filled with pride, the way a champion should. Instead, I filled with pity, sadness, even a genuine remorse for my adversary.

I must have gotten hit harder than I thought, because I began to be concerned with the details of this kids life. I wondered why this idea to strike me was acceptable to him? I had wondered how many times he experienced this himself? I wondered who taught him to throw a strong right? Did his father strike him? Did he have a father?

As the encounter broke up, and the swelling in my left jaw was met with the swelling of empathy, I found myself broken in an altogether different way. Filled with the weight of my unethical encounter, I saw for the first time how incapable I was of really loving. Not that I was at all enamored with this kid, but the general idea of love for fellow man, had escaped me. In the days following, I became more aware of the damage my words may have caused an already abused kid. I even felt like slugging myself. Interesting how something as simple as turning the other cheek can call out another’s greatness, diminishing violence.

Knowing the Character of God in Turmoil

So, yesterday I sat down to go through my various social networking devices. You know... Hotmail, Facebook, Twitter etc. And inevitably, I came across some rather scathing judgment toward the country of Haiti. A country that is supposed to have, at some point in their history, dedicated the nation to satan. Now, I don't know where to start... But I will say that Christians are famous for quoting scriptures and citing "original sin" as the reason that Haiti, or New Orleans, or India, or China or... or... or... are experiencing the "wrath" of God!

I don't believe that God will cause mass destruction and for hundreds of thousands of lives to be lost, no more than I believe that He will ever flood the earth again! By the way, God said that he wouldn't again flood the earth! I wonder if this also includes other forms of natural disasters such as the one experienced in Haiti. I, for one, believe that this includes other natural disasters. I "love" how, whenever something bad happens, we call it "an act of God," but we never say this when we stand in amazement at the creative power of other potentially catastrophic events. The difference is people. We have inhabited so many violently creative places on the planet that it is insane to blame God, for our inability to act upon what we currently know.

I wonder at people's sheer ability to disconnect, because of the sickening luxury that we enjoy daily. I wonder how one can blame God for so much! I wonder what a "real" Jesus movement would look like in Haiti. Can you imagine Jesus walking around the thousands of dead as they lay on the streets, shaking his head as if they deserved it? I wonder if Jesus would sit comfortably behind his laptop, as I do now, making idle commentary on the plight of others thousands of miles away. I wonder how to measure Godlessness. If Godlessness, and "original sin" is the standard, what does this say about the restoration that Jesus came to earth for.

As I read several of the brutally hateful comments, it reminded me of some that I have read or heard directly from Nazi skinheads, Klan affiliates, White supremacists or other fundamental groups. I guess I must be a bit crazy to think that a Jewish Jesus, living in an environment that was, to say the least, risky, had a few challenges that may have made it difficult to love. But how did Jesus conquer every form of hateful, violent act against him? He "loved the world". I know, I know. Your thinking, He loved the world but not the sin. Right! But remember, if sin is the measure then Jesus is totally insignificant to forgive it! If Jesus is part of the triune expression of God, and God "is" love, and "love covers a multitude of sin" don't you think that this would include even original sin? I don't believe that God sees us, any of us, apart from the potential redemptive lens of Jesus. I believe that he indeed sees every one of us as created sons and daughters that are truly the image of God. Even the Godless! Does this mean that everyone inherits salvation? No. For this we are told, and I believe that we must "seek" Jesus. I wonder did everyone who Jesus healed, already believe in him? Did Jesus send out a pamphlet that read: I will be walking amongst you for the next few years and if you desire to be healed, please fill out this form ensuring that you have asked me to come live in your heart, and that indeed I am Lord. NO! He simply saw the image of God in people and responded to God! "I can only do what I see the father doing" Does this mean that God would heal those who do not yet believe in him? Absolutely!

Here is our commission to Haiti: Love!!! To love is the most relevant act that we have! It is no wonder that we aren't relevant, when we represent a God of love, with hate. It saddens me to see how the most relevant lover of humans, has been represented by people singing songs like, "they will know we are Christians by our love"... I would love for us to stop singing about love and actually be love. The word of God says, in order to combat evil, we must insert good!

I formally want to apologize, and take responsibility for any and all harsh or even hateful words, or acts being committed in the name of Jesus. I repent for my contribution to the problem and pray that a new breed of loving worshippers arise and redeem the lost cities! For Jesus sake!

Finally, I need to apologize for this very atypical rant, as I prefer to bring more contemplative concepts before you. If you find yourself offended, well I don't apologize for that, as that is out of my control. If you find yourself in agreement, lucky me! If you find yourself offended and provoked to change, congratulations... I love your willingness to accept challenge. I love you! I thank God for you! Even if you don't agree with me.