Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Just This Once...


I finally cracked (pardon the pun) a life-long habit of cracking my knuckles. For the past year or two I've basically never done it once.

That is, until a week or two ago.

In a moment of particular stress, my hand was against my cheek and my knuckles were in just the right position, and I thought to myself, "Just this once."

The great lie.

Just this once...

Since that day my habit has resumed in full force. Quantity-per-day may not have reached peak production, but the habit has taken on life again. It's alive.

So now I have to kill this bad habit again. But it's so much easier to keep dead things dead than to put to death something that wishes to live.

My bad habit was dead. But thanks to me, it's alive again. And it doesn't want to die.

Thank God the habit involved is just the cracking of knuckles. But what a reminder of the power of a vice, and the deceitfulness we practice on ourselves when we give ourselves a "one-time treat" to that vice and indulge it.

Just this once...

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Ahead of Jesus


John 11:1-19
Now a man named Lazarus was sick. ... So the sisters sent word to Jesus, “Lord, the one you love is sick.” ... when he heard that Lazarus was sick, he stayed where he was two more days ... then he told them plainly, “Lazarus is dead, and for your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe. But let us go to him.” ... On his arrival, Jesus found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb for four days. Now Bethany was less than two miles from Jerusalem, and many Jews had come to Martha and Mary to comfort them in the loss of their brother.

As I read and re-read this passage, I found myself playing around with notions possible only with the benefit of 20/20 hindsight. Nobody then knew what we know now: that Jesus had intentionally delayed his visit to Bethany.

By the time Jesus arrived, Lazarus had been dead for four days. The question I found myself puzzled by was this: What would I have done, knowing what I know today, if I had lived then as a close friend or relative of Lazarus? This is not entirely an idle question, because as verse 19 notes, many friends and relatives did the obvious thing to do. They went to Mary and Martha to comfort them. And they didn't wait four days to do it.

But they didn't know then what Jesus was up to. Today, I do. Armed with hindsight, I started to make the blithe assumption that I would not have been in a rush to get to Bethany "ahead" of Jesus. It is not wise, after all, to hurry off ahead of Jesus, generally speaking.

Or is it?

As soon as the thought entered my mind, it began to fester a bit. Not visit Mary and Martha? How could I... Why should I not visit May and Martha? Yes, I know that Jesus is eventually going to arrive. And I know what he's going to do when he gets there. Well and good enough. But my beloved Mary and Martha are grieving now.

All of a sudden, 20/20 hindsight or no, I'm not so sure I know what the right response would be to a situation like this. Jesus is delaying. What should I do?

And here is where the question loses its ivory tower academic irrelevance and begins to take on poignant significance. For who among us cannot think of someone they know who is waiting on God for something? I can think of many such people. In fact, I strongly suspect it would be easier to tally up the people I know who are not waiting on God for something. We're all waiting on God for something. Some of are waiting on God for a lot of things.

So how one handles the Lazarus question has ramifications for real life. Granted that the Jews around at the time had no idea what Jesus was up to then. And we, today, do not (or ought not claim to) know exactly what God is up to today. So in that sense we're on an even playing field. On God's plans for our own futures, we're pretty much in the dark.

Now let's ask the $64,000 question. How should those friends be reacting to the news of Lazarus' death? How should they speak to Mary and Martha? If I have a good answer to that, I might just have a good working protocol for how I should be reacting to events in my own life and in the lives of those around me.

I don't think I know the right answer to that question. But I have a few ideas.

First, I think a staggering amount of humility is in order. We ought not try to intepret too quickly the reasons behind what God does or allows to happen, especially since we are not privy even to that basic distinction (whether God did it or whether he allowed it) let alone aware of God's guiding motivations in the matter.

Imagine saying to Mary and Martha, "Jesus is holding off a bit. He doesn't want to arrive until Lazarus has been dead for, oh, about four days or so." To speak that way would be ridiculous for at least two reasons. First, because we don't have the mind of God, and we have not that level of knowledge. Second, because even supposing we did have such insight, to speak of it would interfere with the very goals Jesus had in mind to accomplish.

Jesus meant for a great number of people to walk through four days of death. We ought not interfere with the experiences Jesus intends for others to go through. Of course those are harsh words, when you think of it. But God never was quite the softy we often wish him to be. He loves us more than we can even comprehend, but a brief review of the Bible ought to free us from any notion that he's a pushover for a parent. Job and John make that much clear.

Second, we must bring the absolute assurance with us that God is for us. That God cares. That he loves us. Jesus has shown us this much, and I believe these words of encouragement are in place at all times and in all circumstances. Even when Lazarus has died.

Finally, I think a big takeaway notion is to hold on to, and to share with others, the great conviction and faith that Jesus is coming. He may delay, but he is coming. We may die before we see him, but he's coming.

Can we go on ahead of Jesus? Yes! In fact, we must. Jesus does not wander the earth with dusty feet anymore. We are the dusty hands and feet of Jesus. So go we must. But go with humility. We don't know if God is going ahead of us or behind us, and in either case God is often pleased to keep us in the dark as to his larger plans.

And when we get there? We are on safest ground when we offer loved ones those few assurances we know to be true. God loves you. Jesus is indeed coming. Suffering souls need these assurances.

As for our wild guesses about what God is doing and what he is up, they will almost assuredly prove much less useful, helpful, or welcome.