The Growlery

"Sit down, my dear," said Mr. Jarndyce. "This, you must know, is the Growlery.
When I am out of humour, I come and growl here."

Charles Dickens, Bleak House, Chapter VIII

Monday, January 30, 2017

Wisdom from St John Chrysostom

'Christ of Maryknoll' by Br. Robert Lent
"Do you really wish to pay homage to Christ's body? Then do not neglect Him when he is naked. At the same time that you honor Him here with hangings made of silk, do not ignore Him outside when he perishes from cold and nakedness. For the One who said "This is my body"...also said "When I was hungry you gave me nothing to eat"...For is there any point in his table being laden with golden cups while He Himself is perishing from hunger? Don't neglect your brother in his distress while you decorate His house. Your brother is more truly His temple than any Church building."

--Homily 35 on Matthew


"The poor man has one plea, his want and his standing in need: do not require anything else from him; but even if he is the most wicked of all men and is at a loss for his necessary sustenance, let us free him from hunger. Christ also commanded us to do this, when He said, ‘Be like your Father in heaven, for He makes His sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.’ The almsgiver is a harbor for those in necessity: a harbor receives all who have encountered shipwreck, and frees them from danger; whether they are bad or good or whatever they are who are in danger, it escorts them into its own shelter. So you likewise, when you see on earth the man who has encountered the shipwreck of poverty, do not judge him, do not seek an account of his life, but free him from his misfortune. Why do you make trouble for yourself? God has excused you from all officiousness and meddlesomeness. How much most of us would complain, if God had bidden us first to examine each person’s life exactly, to interfere with his behavior and his deeds, and only then to give alms? But as it is we are freed from all this kind of annoyance. Then why do we bring excessive cares on ourselves? A judge is one thing, an almsgiver is another. Charity is so called because we give it even to the unworthy. Paul also advises us to do this, when he says, ‘Do not grow weary in well-doing … to all men, but especially to those who are of the household of faith.’ If we meddle and interfere with the unworthy, not even the worthy will ever willingly come to us; but if we provide also for the unworthy, undoubtedly both the worthy and those who are worth all of them together will come into our hands. This is what happened to the blessed Abraham, who, because he did not meddle or interfere with those who passed by, was able once to receive angels. Let us imitate him, along with his descendant Job. For he also accurately imitated the generosity of his ancestor, and because of this he said, ‘My door was open to every comer.’ It was not open to one and closed to another, but was simply unlocked for everyone."

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Homily II on Lazarus and the rich man

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Saturday, August 03, 2013

Psalm 27 Reflection

The Lord is my light and my salvation— whom shall I fear?

The Lord is the stronghold of my life—of whom shall I be afraid?
  
I was introduced to Psalm 27 as a child in the context of a Christian kids tape that centered around not being afraid. I wasn’t a particularly fearful child, so it was a while before I saw the application to my life. A while before I realized that fear could be being afraid of pain, or of being alone, or being afraid that your life is always going as messed up as it is today. It was that last bit that I found most difficult—I had enough painful experiences in my early life that I had difficulty trusting God that things would actually ever get better.  I feared that I would always be unhappy, that I would never see God’s goodness in concrete ways.

This feeling was most intense after I graduated from university and had no idea what to do with my life. I recently reread emails to friends I wrote in that period—in which I had finally decided to apply to grad school, and was rejected by every single one.  You see, although I have academic gifting I also have a learning disability which has dogged me throughout my schooling—a brokenness even in my greatest strength. There’s a strong sense of desperation in these old emails, of just barely treading water as I waited to apply again next year. I remember how little confidence I had that God had any sort of good plan for me. It was in this period of my life that I discovered the ending verses of Psalm 27:


I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.

Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.


Despite my lack of hope I clung to this promise. God would show me his goodness in this life; I wouldn’t have to wait until heaven.  It might not look exactly like what I was expecting, but I could trust him. I just needed to wait.

These verses remind me of that famous verse in Hebrews: “Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.” I think that just about sums up the Christian calling and condition. We somehow have to be okay with seeing partially, with glimpses of God’s goodness in this broken world as we wait for the renewal of all things.

Yet God does show himself in our lives in surprising ways. For me it’s been through evidence of his grace as I traveled to far away Toronto for school, had a terrible first year, found Knox, and learned to love my fellow grad students.  I have truly seen God’s goodness and I confidently expect to see more. When I doubt I remind myself: Take heart. Do not be afraid.



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Written for the Psalm series in my church's newsletter.

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Tuesday, June 16, 2009

30 Years of Faithfulness


Today my parents celebrated thirty years of marriage. We dug out their wedding pictures, laughed at the '70s fashions, and marveled at how ridiculously young and good looking they were. Thirty years is an awfully long time to be with the same person in our culture, and I'm so thankful for the attitude my parents have toward their marriage. I remember being wonderfully comforted as a child when my mom told me (prefaced with a "just in case you've ever worried about this...") that I didn't have to be afraid that they would ever get divorced; that divorce wasn't something they would ever consider.

The anomaly of my parents' long lasting marriage reminded me of my own counter-cultural lifestyle. After years of Christian schooling, having secular friends who don't really understand the motivation behind the whole waiting 'til marriage thing, or worse, ask me to explain the vagaries of the Christian dating scene, have made me particularly aware of just how weird it is. And sometimes it seems strange to me too: waiting for the right guy, or in the words of the Facebook group, "Saving Myself For Wild, Passionate, Awkward Honeymoon Sex" just isn't all it's cracked up to be. That's why I found writing 'Musings on Love' for ReZound, my church's arts event I helped plan, to be such a helpful exercise. My friend Erika and I wrote the Musings to give the event a theological focus, but also found the writing process to be an encouraging reminder of the theological basis for our sacrifices. Speaking of ReZound, you can see some pictures from that love-themed ReZound here (I'm in there somewhere, reading the Goforth's story), and hear one of the
songs that was played here ('Peace for Today' should start playing automatically).

It's a bit long, but I thought that in honor of my parent's anniversary I would reproduce the scripture and Musings that were read at ReZound. They are broken up into three parts, which corresponded to the
tripartite organization of the event: Creation, Fall, Redemption. For my Christian friends the Musings are meant as encouragement to continue in the sacrificial love we're called to. And to my to my dear non-Christian friends, please consider the following a first stab at explaining what I believe about love and why it has subversive (and at times uncomfortable) results.



Part I: Creation

Genesis 2:18-25

The LORD God said, "It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him."
Now the LORD God had formed out of the ground all the beasts of the field and all the birds of the air. He brought them to the man to see what he would name them; and whatever the man called each living creature, that was its name. So the man gave names to all the livestock, the birds of the air and all the beasts of the field.

But for Adam no suitable helper was found. So the LORD God caused the man to fall into a deep sleep; and while he was sleeping, he took one of the man's ribs and closed up the place with flesh he had taken out of the man, and he brought her to the man. Then the LORD God made a woman from the rib. The man said,

"This is now bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh;
she shall be called 'woman,' for she was taken out of man."

For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh.

The man and his wife were both naked, and they felt no shame.
We were made for community. We need others. God made us in his image, male and female, with a potential for intimacy and relationship modeled on the community of his trinity. And it was good. We were able to be honest, naked, in perfect communion with God and each other.

But with this need for community came the potential for loneliness. God recognized this in his creation of Adam—being alone was not good for his human creature. Then came the fall. In the fall all relationships were fundamentally broken. Not only were we alienated from our creator, but we were alienated from our fellow creatures.

And so we are lonely. We crave intimacy; we want someone to truly know us; we want to be as vulnerable as in the Garden and feel full, shining, unconditional love. The fact is, we are not as good alone. Two are better than one, scripture says. A pair gets a better return for a day's work, has someone to help them recover from a fall, someone to keep them warm at night, someone who will help defend against a hostile world. A cord of three strands is not easily broken.




Part II: The Fall

Song of Solomon, 3:1-5

All night long on my bed
I looked for the one my heart loves;
I looked for him but did not find him.

I will get up now and go about the city,
through its streets and squares;
I will search for the one my heart loves.
So I looked for him but did not find him.

The watchmen found me
as they made their rounds in the city.
"Have you seen the one my heart loves?"

Scarcely had I passed them
when I found the one my heart loves.
I held him and would not let him go
till I had brought him to my mother's house,
to the room of the one who conceived me.

Daughters of Jerusalem, I charge you
by the gazelles and by the does of the field:
Do not arouse or awaken love
until it so desires.
The brokenness of human relationships takes many forms. We are selfish in our loving, pursuing our own feelings rather than seeking the other’s best. We make love an idol. Love comes too early or too late. There is enmity between men and women; we envy each other, we fight. Sometimes even our best efforts at reaching out to each other are frustrated. One act of unkindness can lead to broken relationship. One broken relationship can divide a family, a church, or a nation.

God tolerates this brokenness, giving us instructions for dealing with the ugly consequences of our sin, like divorce and adultery. But Christ calls us to a radical new way: “You have heard it was said…but I tell you…” In this unexpected turn of events hateful thoughts and lustful fantasies are on par with murder and adultery! But the most difficult part of the new calling is the complete death to self modeled by Jesus. “Greater love has no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.” Our attitude is to be the same as the one "who being very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant." Impossible! Yet God promises his perfect love to sustain us as we struggle to approach relationships with humility and selflessness, ready to sacrifice.




Part III: Redemption

Ephesians 5:25-27
Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless.

Revelation 21: 1-4
Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away."
God promises a time when the trials of bad relationships will be washed away and we will stand in perfect relationship to him. This perfect knowing is foreshadowed in the good relationships on earth. Good marriages, families, and friendships offer us a taste of the joy of community in that awaits us in heaven, when the Lamb is united with his bride.

Meanwhile, we can act rightly in relationships, imitating Christ’s perfect agape towards his bride. Like Christ we want to die to self in our service of each other, while we wait patiently for the end of time when all things will be made right. Somehow through this self-death God is making us perfect: the filthy rags which are our acts of righteousness are transformed, clothing the Bride of Christ in clean linen. The time is coming when, with all of heaven and earth, we will say: "Let us rejoice and be glad and give him glory! For the wedding of the Lamb has come, and his bride has made herself ready."

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The illustrations are Marc Chagall's version of the Ruth love story (Naomi and her daughter-in-laws; Ruth and Boaz on the threshing floor; Ruth and Boaz at the end of the story), which I found while looking for ReZound Powerpoint images. I just love how Chagall's depiction of the threshing floor scene communicates the complete awkwardness of that situation. See? Weird and counter-cultural even then! (Although I'm not advocating this!)

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