Darkness II

 

         Sometimes these memories we desperately want to go away simply will not.  They don’t leave, and I don’t think they ever will.  I don’t think that Jesus sits at the right hand of God devoid of the memories of the nails going through his hand or the look in Peter’s eyes as the cock crows.  Wouldn’t that lessen the sacrifice?  There’s something not right about looking into your savior’s eyes, saying thank you, and Him responding, “for what?” because the memories of the love he showed you are gone simply because they were painful.

            It is such folly to think we can escape our memories.  To think that the past can be erased to such an extent that we cannot even remember it anymore is ridiculous. We can wish and demand that such things happen, but when we are alone with our doubts we know the truth.  Look at all the things that people do to escape their memories.  They drink themselves to death, offer the bodies up in search of a real lover to erase innocence ripped away, they accumulate wealth and toys to negate their former poverty, they lie in the name of faith to deny that they feel far from God.

            Why do Christians have such a hard time believing that bad things just happen sometimes?  Have we become so purpose driven that we can no longer be honest with ourselves?  Very often when people are going through bad times, we quote Job to them.  Ironically, it seems that most of the time the stuff we say sound a lot more like Job’s three shallow-minded and insensitive friends.

 ”Where were you when I laid the foundations of the Earth?” 

While this is definitely an example of God reminding one of His creations where their place is, does it not also show us how we just can not know or understand the reasons for or why?  “Tell me if you have understanding,” God asks Job.  God was being sarcastic; of course Job had no understanding.  So, why then do we insist on having understanding?  Worse, why do we insist on having understanding of why bad things happen to others?  “Who sinned?  This man or his parents?”  Isn’t this what we ask all the time instead of acting with real compassion and mercy?

            Sometimes there are obvious reasons for why things happen.  They are made apparent to us.  I suggest that it is not our job to decipher the when’s, why’s, or how’s if the are not made clear to us.  I suggest that our preoccupation, as a Christian culture, harkens us back to the oldest sin, our prideful desire to be “as God.”

            This does not mean that we should not seek to know and understand God.  But, there is a vast difference in knowing and understanding God, and attempting to be able to explain why everything happens.  We are limited in what we can know of God by what He chooses to reveal to us.  The same revelation He gives us in the Word is the same voice which admonishes us that, “My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways.  For as the heavens are higher than the earth, So are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts higher than your thoughts.”  Between us and God, there is an inherent mystery.  We are the work of his hands, we are not privy to the depths of His mind or reason.  We exist because He made us, we are sustained because He loves us, but the truth is that God did not make us gods, He made us human.  And, an integral part of being human is existing within the mystery of our relationship with Him.

            And, accepting this mystery isn’t something we ought to do begrudgingly.  The depths of the beauty of the mystery between us and Him is as deep as the beauty which He is.  This mystery is that feeling you get when you look out upon the vista of a desert evening as the sun goes down, or the beauty of a full moonlit sky when your looking the at the sky opposite of where the moon is.  Beauty found both in the face of the sun and its backside glory.  This mystery is the feeling you get when you read a well written book or hear a passionately composed piece of music and, though many others may have read or heard, its like both were written with you in mind.

            Mystery is not a drain on faith.  Too often we hold to faith as this bank account against which we make withdraws in order to complete the holy actions and thought the “true Christian” is supposed to have in their life.  No, mystery warms our faith and gives it passion.  Mystery is where we stand the scoffer down, be they pagan or over-confident believer and say, I do this not because I’ve got a manual detailing the intricacies of my religion, rather I do this because I serve someone, not something, Who is bigger than the most beautiful place in my life and dreams.  My evidence?  That once I, as scoffer like you, came to believe against my better, earthly judgment. 

            What does mystery have to do with painful memories?  What does it have to do with the way in which we minister to those who hold them?  Mystery reminds us that we are not God and that if we are going to be of any help and not a burden to those who’s memories, recent or old, crush them, we must remember that it is by the power of the Holy Spirit alone that we can accomplish this.  To Him be the glory forever and ever, Amen.

            But, do we mean that?  Are we trying to serve someone who is so inexplicably bigger than we are, or are we trying to be that person?  Are we trying to be a part of something so vast and wonderful, or are we trying to be the leader of it?  Does part of us say as those words come from our mouth, “yeah, but I was the one actually here”. 

 

 

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Job 38:4 (NASB)

 

Ibid

John 9:2 (NASB)

Genesis 3:5 (ASV)

Isaiah 55:8-9 (NASB)