The Ungrateful Poor

(Shutterstock Image)

In the years I worked with the homeless, I came to see what I had never seen before; the deep heartache of those cast aside, those we tend to ignore, look away from, or judge.

We may not know the circumstances of the people we encounter day-to-day: the poor struggling to survive or the homeless, who are more and more visible on the streets today. But God calls all of us to compassionate care. No exceptions! They are our brothers and sisters in Christ, no less deserving of value and dignity than we are. Rev Dr. Liz Theoharis calls them “God’s chosen nobodies.”

I have always been inspired by Dorothy Day. She and Paul Maurin began the Catholic Worker Movement in the 1930’s. She reminded everyone who came to serve with her, particularly those with an ego, that “There are two things you should know about the poor: they tend to smell, and they are ungrateful.” 

Why would she say that? Because if we have some expectation of their eternal gratitude for us taking our precious time to hand them a bowl of soup, we’ll be sorely disappointed and likely there for the wrong reason.

“Not all of us can do great things, but we can do small things with great love.” Saint Mother Teresa

 I believe God challenges us to sit with this stark reminder of how the poor and homeless are generally treated. Have you ever considered what happens to them when they die on the street? Jesus’s words in Matthew 25:40-45 should elicit shame in our hearts, “whatever you do to the least of these you do to me” – but does it?

It did for those who started the Homeless Remembrance Project in 2003. “We’ve stood for more than 2050 women, men, and children who have died! These are outdoor, public, or violent deaths only of presumed homeless and temporarily housed people!” 

Can you wrap your head around those numbers when considering their work is ONLY in a small area of Seattle, Washington? They define it as “A collaborative effort of homeless women, faith community leaders, designers, artists, social service providers, and other friends—working to create places of hope, healing, and beauty to honor and remember homeless people who’ve died in King County.

Our concept is twofold: the Tree of Life, in Victor Steinbrueck Park, is a sculpture with space for community gathering, hope, and healing to recognize that we are one people, homeless and housed together, and we can end homelessness. Leaves of Remembrance on Seattle sidewalks bear the names of those who have died, and we share their stories at the site Fallen Leaves.” https://homelessremembrance.org/

Luke 16:19-31 speaks to the massive gap between the rich and poor in America. Years of a growing obsession with independence, greed, and wealth accumulation have manifested indifference to the plight of the poor.

But some feel compelled to stop looking away and respond to God’s call to serve those who suffer. If you feel that call, I believe it first requires honesty about where you stand and, if there is a tug on your heart to serve, consider why.

What is your “why”? It’s an important question that deserves a great deal of reflection. Is it a response to an obligation you felt after last Sunday’s sermon, checking off the “volunteer” box? Is it a misguided notion that you are their “savior”? -because that job’s already taken.

Mother Teresa’s words should resonate with all who call themselves Christian, “It is a poverty to decide that a child must die so that you may live as you wish.” If that truth resonates deep within your heart, congratulations, you are on your way to fulfilling your life’s purpose!

My Journey to Finding True Purpose and Self-Acceptance

Oh, the games we play. I know them well. I’ve been playing them all my life. The games that hide our suffering, that mask our own sinfulness, and help us survive.

Growing up, I was always made to believe I was not worthy of love or care. So, I tried desperately to find my worth in things and accomplishments.

I have been artificially propped up by an ego that is always on the alert for another opportunity to impress others, starting years ago as a youth minister and then at Youth-in-Need, hospice, and working with the homeless.

Being pumped up by the admiring comments of others filled a void, “Oh, I admire you for what you do. It takes a special person to do that.” I pretended to brush off the comment while secretly hoping this would be the year I would receive the Time Magazine Person of the Year award. I kinda gave up on that one. I know…shocking!

Are you impressed yet? Do you know who isn’t impressed? Who’s saddened by this litany of “accomplishments” by yours truly? GOD!

1 Cor. 7 speaks directly to the ego, What are you so puffed up about? What do you have that God hasn’t given you? And if all you have is from God, why act as though you are so great and as though you have accomplished something on your own?” Ouch!

In hindsight, I know God was present in all of this. He watched and waited for my AHA moments; for those moments, I could clearly see my shallow attempts to feed the hunger and loneliness of others – all while denying my own.

And those AHA moments were truly profound! Moments when my initial shallowness transformed into compassion and empathy for those I was serving. That’s how God works. He was converting my heart right in the midst of my brokenness.

So, there’s my story—the good, bad, and ugly. And this is my hope – that I am finally recognizing the person I was created to be and the purpose I am to fulfill for whatever time I have left here: to truly point others to God and not myself.

I’m not sure what tomorrow’s going to look like – but I am sure I’m in good hands! I will leave you with this beautiful song by Casting Crowns: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_eQd3K2Fxp4

Welcome to My Groundhog Day

(Groundhog Day movie)

I recently celebrated my seventy-fourth birthday. I think seventy-four years is a loooooong time to be doing the same dumb things over and over. I also think God agrees! That’s surely why he’s intent on repeating himself until I – hopefully (hope springs eternal) – change.

Let me say that God has done some pretty incredible work in my life! And there have been significant changes over the years. But there is one thing, and unfortunately, it is the main thing I have struggled to submit to: humility. Oh sure, I can lay claim to superficial humility. You know, that surface stuff that implodes the first time some jerk gets on my bad side!

And so, like our poor friend Phil, I go to bed every night with good intentions and wake up the next morning finding myself stuck in the same place.

I recall that moment in the movie when Phil said to Rita, “I have been stabbed, shot, poisoned, frozen, hung, electrocuted, and burned, and every morning I wake up without a scratch on me”? That would make a great metaphor for my life, except for the “without a scratch” part.

My Groundhog Day consists of continual lessons in humility – or lack there of. Ready? Buckle up!

I was once a concept of God’s wild and magnificent imagination. I can envision all the angels in heaven dancing for joy at the sight of every single creature God brings to life. Then, without warning, I was plopped into a broken world, and life immediately began re-creating me into the person God no longer recognized. And the angels fell silent.

Through life, I too (metaphorically), “have been stabbed, shot, poisoned, frozen, hung, electrocuted, and burned”. First, by a mother God entrusted with my care who was mean and abusive. Later, by my own attempts to simply survive in my brokenness.

My focus was not on living with joy, and the fullness of life promised to me. My focus became a matter of enduring the next worst thing, like Phil waking up every day in a world that never changed. Everything this Original Creation was supposed to be, became unrecognizable.

Like Phil, I tried to end my pain too. I didn’t have a groundhog strapped to my steering wheel, and it wasn’t on railroad tracks. Instead, it was me drunk in my little MG on the highway, praying that I would crash and die. Phil’s reaction when his attempt to kill himself failed was, “Ah, nuts.” Mine was the same. I think my exact words were, “Great! I can’t even do this right!” I remember getting out of bed the next morning and going off to work: same empty life, different day.

Over the years, since that not-so-fatal day, much has happened. God has continued to work in my life, considering my incessant resistance to the death of my own will. We have been through so much together! When I think about what he has managed to accomplish in this continual wrestling match, it has been nothing short of a miracle!

After Phil described his torture, he exclaimed that there was “not a scratch on me”. I couldn’t say that, but I did think that “not a scratch on me” meant that on the outside no one ever noticed what a mess my life was. Considering that has made me, and God, very sad.

But luckily, God isn’t a quitter and doesn’t give up on us. As long as that is true, I’m always hopeful for a new beginning. I know God is ever so gently loosening my white-knuckled grip on my stubborn self-will and shining an uncomfortable light on my lack of humility.

Of course, as is God’s mysterious way, and because I have been in total denial of my lack of humility, I am confronted almost daily with examples of “Who do you think you’re kidding, Linda?”

I had to sit with that and realize the truth of my whining and whaling and lashing out at anyone who has pushed my ever so fragile buttons. It came from many years of always being on the defensive. And, if I’m listening, I hear God say, “Humility…Linda. Let’s give it another try.”

Here’s what God has been showing me in the process of mediation, prayer, and experiences that provide the litmus test of how I’m doing. I think it’s some pretty awesome stuff.

What I believe has set this entire process in motion began years ago with my hospice training and work with dying patients. You get a much different perspective on life when you sit with the dying.

When I began my work with Hospice, I made it a practice to tell people I was a “volunteer chaplain” – I had to get it in, and technically it was true enough because of my past schooling and training. But, I was ever so profoundly admonished by God. He rolled his eyes and repeatedly shook his head at my need to pump up my false self.

Then, the more I sat with dying patients, the more I realized how little it mattered. No one ever said, “Thank you for being a chaplain.” They said, “Thank you for coming.” That’s all. They thanked me for my presence, not any vast wisdom or knowledge I thought I possessed and they needed to hear.

They were dying; they couldn’t have cared less about my degrees or accomplishments. I witnessed what was really important to those with so little time to fool with ego, pride, and self-centeredness.

This should be a powerful lesson for anyone who thinks that God does not want to be deeply involved in our lives. It has happened too often for me to believe otherwise. Now, if I can just get out of his way, perhaps humility is not impossible – even for me.

I hope and pray that I will continually strive to surrender to God’s Love and be the empty vessel he desires.

We are all called to love, to have faith and trust and hope, to be filled with joy and peace, and humility, which underlies it all. None of this is remotely possible if it is not born of a heart filled with awe and wonder at God’s magnificence, power, and glory. None of it!

Consider Matthew 3:13-17, “Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan to be baptized by him. John tried to prevent him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, yet you are coming to me?”

There is a whole bunch of humility going on there! John the Baptist never felt worthy “to tie Jesus’ sandals (Mark 1:7)”. How often are we willing to decrease so Jesus can increase?And think of Jesus himself allowing John to baptize him. He wasn’t a sinner and didn’t need to be baptized. Yet he humbled himself before everyone to lead the way to his Father.

Reading that Scripture was like a one-two punch. No, God doesn’t punch, but I’m telling you, he flicks! I have been flicked often enough to know. And it hurts. Because he’s not flicking my head, he’s flicking my heart!

When we go our own way, we obey the parts of God’s command that are easy and discard the parts that don’t appeal to us: Love your neighbor – check, love your enemy – scratch – is it any wonder God hates that? Are we putting forth an image of ourselves – more importantly – an image of God that others can use to justify their own sinfulness?

I want to say that I have finally conquered this one, but I know better, and I’m pretty sure there will be another lesson tomorrow…

                                   and the day after that…

                                                                          and the day after that!

It’s funny; the Scripture verses here are not new to me. “HOLY COW, I never knew God felt so strongly about THAT!” – Liar! It has just been an inconvenient truth, demanding something I have not been willing to submit to. I pray that is all changing. The power of humility lies within each one of us. We have no excuse to believe or act otherwise.

WHACK!! Welcome to my Most Profound 2×4 Moment Ever!

(Originally posted October 25, 2012)

Many people use, and believe the expression, “the patience of Job”.  Actually, Job was not a patient man. Perhaps a bit more patient than his lovely wife who told him to “Curse God and die!”– And his so-called friends who insisted God had exposed him for his wickedness. Their accusations had no limits:

Eliphaz, like most people in Jesus’ time, believed suffering was a direct result of sin; that suffering exposes you to God’s wrath – you’re busted! Sadly, many people still believe that.

Eliphax tells Job that he suffers at the hand of God because “those who plow iniquity and sow trouble reap the same”. (Job 4:7-8)

Bildad chimes in, “God has rejected you because you’re evil!” (8:20). Ouch!

And, of course, not to be outdone by the others, Zophar annihilates any sense of worth Job may be clinging to, “You’re a damn fool! Waxing poetic nonsense like you can dupe everyone, even God. Are you crazy?! We’re going to hang out here until God decides to give you a piece of his mind. And he will. You watch. If you weren’t such an idiot you would reach out to God while you still have breath in you!” (Job 11-14). Honestly, that’s all in there. Okay, I might have taken some license with it.

So, would “patient” be the appropriate verb for Job? After all, he admits, “I am not at ease, nor am I quiet; I have no rest; but trouble comes” (Job 3:26). I do, however, believe Job endured more hardships than most of us could possibly imagine. So, let’s give him that.

Then, there was God, who was eerily quiet until He came storming out of the whirlwind (38:1-40:2) into Job’s broken heart, revealing His power and majesty. And what was Job’s response? How could it have been anything other than “what shall I answer You? I lay my hand over my mouth” (40:4). And later, “Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know” (42:3).

I think we could also give Job credit for finally surrendering to God even in the midst of his suffering; even though he still had no idea why God allowed him to suffer such pain and loss. God owed him no explanation, and Job no longer questioned him. Good call, Job!

As for me? How long have I been questioning God? Forever, I think. Questioning often grew into whining and whining into mistrust until I felt I would never know the deep faith I so longed for. I was too afraid and too busy trying to control my own destiny. I talked about surrender and wrote about surrender, but felt my hypocrisy would one day be exposed because I wasn’t living it. Easy enough for me to tell you to surrender your life to God! Go on now. You’ll be fine. Honest.

In all fairness to my fragile ego, in two of the major events in my life: writing a book and going to graduate school, I did get the first part of God’s calling right, “Go”. The problem was my need to second-guess Him; to run ahead of Him. But let’s go back to where it all began.

God said to me one day, out of the clear blue, “Write a book.” Long story short, it was a work in progress for ten years: written, rewritten, and self-published twice. Writing the book was the part of God’s call I listened to and accepted.

The part I added later went something like this: “I’ve just written a book! Since this came from you, Lord, I can only assume it’s going to be on the New York Times best-seller list! WOW! I can’t wait!” When that didn’t happen, I began to grow weary of God failing to meet my expectations and started to whine and complain again, “God, why did you have me write this book? There have been so many mistakes made in the process. You knew I didn’t know what I was doing. So, why? Why? Why? Why?” Those incessant questions were born out of my feeble attempt to control the process and the outcome.

The next chapter begins with a friend asking me to speak at her church. I muttered a few words in God’s direction, “Lord, if you are now calling me to speak, even though this is also something I never would have imagined doing, then I will do it.” I enrolled in a Speakers Training Workshop and had promotional DVDs made and mailed to everyone I could imagine would care. I was offered a few opportunities to speak, and although I was extremely nervous – actually scared to death – they went well, and the feedback was positive.

Wait, don’t leave! There’s more! In 2006, I was approached by my pastor to consider a program that would entail studies for a graduate degree in Pastoral Care (I still have the laugh lines from that one!). Seriously, I was nine credit hours short of an Associate’s Degree from a community college, and this was a graduate program! Right! To appease my pastor, I completed the application forms, certain they would not accept me.

When the letter came I confidently opened it. My assumed rejection began with “We are pleased to inform you…” Wait, that’s not nice! You are pleased to tell me what I already know – I’m a loser? However, the letter went on to say they had accepted me.

“Oh shit!” That’s what I said. Those two words usually only come out in extreme circumstances like a car coming at me head-on, being stuck in a burning building, or having Robert Redford knock on my door and I’m in my bathrobe and curlers. (Yes, I’m that old!).

So…“OH SHIT!”

An impossible and immutable reality was staring me in the face, and again, I was scared to death! But I went, frightened and uncertain, and graduated in 2009. Glory be to God – well, and to Linda, who, after one semester of preaching classes and a head full of myself, determined that I would probably become the female Billy Graham on the preacher’s circuit. But, alas, more dashed dreams of fame.

I was supposed to move right from graduation to a position as a Pastoral Associate in my comfortable little church. Yep, you guessed it, that’s not what happened. After three grueling years of studies, I was told that the position was not available due to a lack of funding. It was during the 2008 recession.

So, there I sat in my pile of poopy dreams and unfulfilled aspirations as an imminent writer, speaker, preacher, and/or Pastoral Associate faded into oblivion.

For three years, I have been bellyaching to God just like Job. And then it happened. God’s preferred method of attention-getting for me is a 2×4. While driving down the highway, minding my own business – from out of nowhere – WHACK!

God: “Are you paying attention, Linda?”

Me: “I am now!”

Suddenly, I was pummeled by God, or at least that’s how it felt, with a review of the course of events that had transpired. Here’s a chronology of those events:

  • My book is the story of how God reached into my pain and suffering at the hands of others and my own sinfulness and spoke healing into my brokenness. He used the process of writing the book and the opportunities I had to speak to continue that healing, which in turn, has helped others who have shared their own experiences with me.
  • Graduate school was really, really, REALLY a struggle for me. Writing graduate-level papers and reading the works of theologians like Thomas Aquinas and Bernard Lonergan made my head explode! I was anxious for most of those three years. I felt inadequate at best and downright stupid at worst.
  • Academically, I felt I was not on the level of most of the other students – always looking over my shoulder and waiting for someone to show me the door. I got some of it and forgot most of it, yet somehow, in the process, I grew spiritually in ways I could never have imagined.
  • One of my last classes dealt with the foundations of ministry. I remember my professor telling me at the end of the semester that I had a simple way of approaching ministry that would serve me well. He was telling me that I didn’t need to feel incompetent because I couldn’t put together a string of theological thoughts that would rival the best in the field. But I didn’t understand or appreciate his words at the time.
  • Just before graduation, I asked my pastor, “Do I still have a job when I get out of here?” He replied matter-of-factly, “No.” I was shocked! He stated that because of the economy, they could not afford to hire an Associate. I was devastated and shaken to my foundation. Fear got the best of me. If I was going to apply for a position in a different church, how would I fare in the interview process? Even though I had a 3.7 GPA, I had little confidence in my abilities, especially since I knew there would be lots of applicants and very few positions available. Oh yeah, and I was old.

Do you see how God has moved in my life over all these years? I didn’t until that fateful trip in my car last week when all of these events and situations came flooding into my head – then my heart. And, just as with Job, God spoke:

Linda, Linda, Linda, what am I going to do with you?! I called you to write a book, to do some speaking, and to go to graduate school. Who told you you were going to be a famous writer, speaker, or preacher?! Much of the time, you ran off on your own without waiting on Me, without even consulting me. You had it all figured out and then when it didn’t happen the way you planned it, you came complaining to Me. My time is not your time; my ways are not your ways. It’s about obedience and trust, Linda. I think you are finally ready to hear that.

Why, according to your timing, has it taken so long? It was important for you to feel the pain of the loss and suffering of your past and to go through your own healing process before you could enter the sacred space of others who suffer. This is Holy Ground that I am asking you to step into. You were not ready before.

Somehow you have managed to move in the direction I have called you. You’ve made it an uphill climb, but you have been falling forward, so that’s progress! I placed the desires in you before you were born, and I have set in place My plan for you and long to bring it to completion. If you will just get out of my way!

A few days after the Holy Whacking in my car, I received a Daily Meditation from Richard Rohr. Quite appropriate, I think, “All of Jesus’ guidance for ministry…are very concrete and interpersonal. They are all about putting people in touch with specific people, especially with people’s pain. Person-to-person is the way the Gospel was originally communicated. Person-in-love-with-person, person-respecting-person, person-forgiving-person, person-touching-person, person-crying-with-person, person-hugging-person: that’s where the Divine Presence is so beautifully revealed.”

What a dunce I was, “Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know” (Job 42:3). I pray I have finally learned to wait on God and know His plan for me is perfect; to trust His infinite wisdom more than my finite and feeble efforts to do things my own way.

And the saga continues…

I would like to conclude with a quote from Glennon Doyle that sums up where I’m at right now and where I hope to stay till the end.

Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Choices

(Full disclosure – I stole this title from one of my favorite authors of kid’s books, Judith Viorst, titled, “Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day”, because, well, stealing is a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad choice. I hope this confession redeems me.)

We’re not talking about regrettable tattoos. Although, if you trusted a tattoo guy who never got past the third grade– well – you’re a bonehead! Let’s move on.

(originated from the movie, “We’re the Millers”)

We’re talking about serious, life-altering, fast-track-to-hell choices. If you can look me straight in the eye and deny you have ever made any decisions that tipped your halo sideways, I will be the first to recommend you for canonization to sainthood.

Now, know that I am not talking about the likes of the Catholic baby, later confirmed, Hitler, turned adult monster. There can’t be any doubt in most people’s minds that he did not pass GO and did not collect $200 on his way to hell. Right? Or at the very least still resides in Purgatory because his momma was the only one who may have wanted to pray him out of there but she died long before him.

Never mind him. If you think for one minute that Purgatory will be your saving grace. Well, that’s a major attitude fail on your part and God will side-eye you every time you knowingly sin and make no corrections.

It seems the idea of Purgatory came to life in the late 1100s. Thomas Aquinas and the Church quickly latched onto the concept. Aquinas likely had a personal stake in it because he was a no-good, very bad boy in his early days, and the Church quickly realized it was a money-maker for them. Pay to play. Cha-Ching. In my humble opinion, though, Purgatory makes no sense. Let me tell you why I believe that.

Several years ago, I went through a year-long training to work with hospice patients. The most profound learning for me came from reading books written by nurses and doctors who worked for years with hospice patients. First off, they believed, as I do, that anyone who sits with someone taking their last breaths should remove their sandals because they are standing on holy ground.

During the time I sat with dying patients I only witnessed two deaths. Both experiences were intense for me, and I came away with a much different belief about the idea of “cleansing” than what I was taught. I watched the process evolve to the final stage when they were given morphine. At that point, they seemed incapable of any type of movement or communication, let alone a deathbed confession.  

BTW, deathbed confessions raise all sorts of anger among the snobby self-righteous. Being certain that a sinner is destined for hell secretly makes the rest of us happy, knowing they didn’t get to live their whole life being a total ass and then receive an eleventh–hour Get-Out-Of-Jail-Free card. NOT FAIR!  

Anyway, though I had not known anything about those two people prior to their deaths it was clear that something was happening within them that I was not privy to. There was restlessness – not a sense of peace – not until the end. In both of those situations, I had an opportunity to meet briefly with a family member. In each case, they shared the struggles their loved one had during their life.

Do these encounters prove anything? No. But, I came to believe, as I still do, that if cleansing is an actual thing, it probably happens in those moments just before we die. Who knows? As for me, I decided long ago to hedge my bets and make course corrections in the moment I know I did or said something mean or unkind to someone. And if you’re still waiting for an apology from 1985, call me and we’ll meet for lunch while I beg forgiveness.

When God says, “I love you, and there’s nothing you can do about it,” He means it. But that doesn’t mean He won’t roll His eyes or admonish us when we screw up. It means we can go to Him, trusting that He will forgive and forget our stupidity. Those we have hurt may not be so gracious, but that doesn’t change anything. I don’t know about you, but I really don’t want my indiscretions to cause God to do a head smack and question the wisdom of creating a doofus like me and then take some big ole God-sized eraser to my sorry self. Even if, for a split second, He thought about it. I mean, do I dare bring up the antics of Moses to take the pressure off myself? Sure. Why not?

I think Moses got a raw deal. If it was me, I would have bid those cranky Israelites adieu early on, “I’m done here. You guys are on your own. Good luck!”  Remember, Moses tried to worm his way out of God’s calling to lead them (Exodus 3:1-12:42). Maybe he later agreed because of a bigger-than-life ego. “When I get these guys to the Promised Land they will surely erect a statue of me and bow to me profusely! It will be epic!”

But, toward the end of those forty long years, he totally lost it. It wasn’t what he expected, and what with all the whining and complaining about everything and blaming it all on him, “No food – your fault! No water – you’re fault!” Their anger slammed up against his vision of them worshipping at his shrine. So, what does he do? What any self-righteous, self-serving guy would do. He begged God to “DO SOMETHING! I can’t deal with them anymore!” So God sent him back to wave a stick around in front of a rock, and then He (God – not Moses – a small detail Moses left out) would make water pour out from it.

Anywho, Moses thought that was a terrible idea. So, he devised a better plan when he remembered seeing this witch doctor work some magic on a Netflix special back in Egypt. Back when they had the Internet and modern conveniences and stuff!

Everyone thought he was to blame for all their problems. Fine. He would show them how powerful and mighty he was. The poor guy probably still had abandonment issues from that whole baby-in-the-basket-in-the-river incident, so this seemed like a great plan to bolster his sense of self. Surely, they would bow down and worship him then.

So instead of waving the stick around in the air, he beat the crap out of the rock with it, and voila water poured out! The people went crazy! Yeah, it was all fun and games until God stepped in.

Personally, I think Moses possessed some HUGE nerve in his life. In a temporary lapse of judgment, he did some awful things, like, I don’t know, defying God and then getting all up in His business. And, lest we forget, in the end, his antics kept him from joining the Israelites in the Promised Land. That ship was sailing without him. (BTW, I don’t recommend you use this material in a Sunday School class. It’s all made up. You’ve been warned.)

So, now, put on your big boy/big girl pants, folks, and gird your loins cause it’s up to you how the rest of your life will play out and how your journey will end. I have had regrets in my life and will probably have more because that’s the foolish me who can’t seem to learn the first, second, or zillionth time! But God still forgives a zillion + one times, if that’s what it takes.

I would just recommend that you don’t stand before Him with unfinished business and a shit-pile of complaints from those you didn’t treat right along the way. Because, again, no one knows what that encounter will be like, and who wants to be handed a fireproof robe and a one-way ticket south, especially if your momma isn’t around to pray for you, you little schmuck? So clean up your mess and make better choices from now on! GEEEZO!

Theology Can Render You a Moron

moron

Okay, I can’t speak for everyone, but it certainly applies to me!

My adventures into the great unknown – better known as graduate school – began just as it ended three years later. My initial question, “What am I doing here”? – morphed into my final, most profound, and current question, “Really! What am I doing here”?

There I was, barely a high school graduate, with just a bit of junior college and a whole lot of “know-it-all” religion, running headlong into theological studies. Fortunately, at the outset, I agreed to allow God to have his way with my pebble-sized faith and my Goliath attitude. He wasted no time. From my first class to my last exam, God pelted me with enough “what ifs” to render me stupid. “Linda, what if some of the stories in Scripture aren’t “factual”?  What if I don’t have a beard? What if heaven’s not a “place”, eternity is here and now, and my “church” includes everyone – even those you don’t like? How’s your faith holding up so far?

My faith was black and white, and it seemed so simple. In reality, “religion” may be, but true faith is hardly black and white, yet, paradoxically, it’s simpler. For example (here’s the moron in me): I had a long list of people who were destined for hell. Not specific names (well, okay, I had some), but rather, specific attitudes and actions that qualified. To be fair, I myself slipped on and off that list all my life for not following the “rules” – even when I didn’t know what the rules were!

Reality tells me that things are not what they seem and only God can know what is in the heart. My neighbor may seem like the jerk of all jerks, but only God knows him well enough to decide that. I Samuel 16:7 says, “For the Lord does not see as man sees; for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”  God may very well agree with my “jerk” label of someone, but he says in no uncertain terms, “He may be a jerk. But he’s MY jerk, so lay off”!

In my first semester at Aquinas, I encountered the infamous St. Augustine, considered one of the greatest philosophers and theologians of all time. At the end of his life, he decided he was an idiot and didn’t know what he was talking about (see, I’m in good company!). So he quit writing and speaking. It didn’t take me that long. I’m sure God is still rejoicing over that!

Fortunately, deciding you are a moron early on has some unforeseen benefits:

  • You no longer have anything to “prove.”
  • “Rules” transform into possibilities.
  • You encounter the living Christ, in the here and now – not the long ago, far away, dead and buried – thus rendered irrelevant and easily dismissed, Jesus. Nice guy though.
  • Righteousness gives way to solidarity with all your brothers and sisters in faith, or no faith at all.
  • Unknowing looks more like wisdom than stupidity.
  • Humility flourishes. Acceptance of self, of God, and of others is borne of true humility.
  • Loving relationships carry no conditional baggage.
  • Faith and trust in a loving, extraordinary God are now actually possible.
  • And finally, you can live in this messy, sometimes violent, darkened world, with a sense of hope.

Lord knows I don’t have all the answers. “As a matter of fact, I do know that, Linda!”

Actually, I probably don’t have any answers.  But I now know that my only source of grace and hope lies in the mystery of a God that holds it all together, and holds us gently and lovingly in his embrace.

Now I can say with great conviction, “I am a deeply loved moron”!

Can I get an AMEN?