117. Willing to be wrong

Matt 25:14 – 16 For it will be like a man going on a journey, who called his servants and entrusted to them his property. To one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability. Then he went away.

What would you be willing to do in order to be obedient to God?  I know that I do not live in perfect obedience; not even close.  There are things that I question.  What does it mean to live in community with other Christians as a church?  What does it mean to be in the world?  I see my participation in consumerism as being sinful in nature.  But I am not willing to give up the privileges and comforts that I am afforded. 

          In our faith we are asked to do things that we might not want to do.  Hang out with people we don’t like.  Go to places no rational human being would want to go.  Give up money to help support our church and other charities - just to be clear in doing so we need to hold those we give money to responsible for how it is spent.

          I could go on about what I would give up or do in order to be a decent human being.  I think for the most part being a Christian is being one of those – they seem to be a rarity these days.  Like me, I am sure that the same could be said for you.

          But I have question, and it was first posed to me.  I think it was an overactive imagination that posed the question.  It would be cool if it was a divine revelation, but I don’t think it was one.  But the question is, “Would you be willing to be wrong in order to be obedient?”

In the Sermon on the Mount Jesus often says, “You have heard it said...” which is followed up with, “...but I tell you.”  In doing so, he reveals a deeper significance to that which is said.  But he also tells people to take matters one step further.  He challenges us to live in contrast to the world around us. 

          In living my faith, not only am I called to serve the world around me, I am entered into a world where there is little good or bad morality.  Often the quest for right or wrong morality is nothing more than a self-serving quest for certainty.  

          I like the parable of the talents.  I like the depiction of the master, God, as it is a common understanding of who we serve.  The two faithful servants sought to be obedient by being a good steward of what they had to offer.  And in conducting the commerce by which they increased the amount of talents they had, they risked being wrong and losing the talents they had been given.

          The other servant, also seeking to be a good steward, sought to protect what he had been given.  It is an understandable approach.  If you had given me money to hold onto, and then your found out that I played the stock market with it, you might be kind of grumpy.  If I stuck that same money in my safe, then you would be pleased that I kept it for you.

          The safe servant, reminds me of me so often.  Seeking safety, and seeking certainty.  In doing so, I do a disservice to God, and to those around me. Thus, with my life, am I going to play it safe?  Will I limit my energies on becoming the best little me I can be?  Or will I risk being wrong? 

          To put this in a more palatable context, we Christians once believed, and I imagine there are those that still do, that marriage was for life.  Even if your spouse was abusive and unfaithful, you were stuck with him or her.  The bible is quite clear on the topic of divorce, and of subservience of the woman to the husband.  The challenge is that the world does not mirror this clarity.  Now, the majority of Christians would agree that leaving the abusive spouse is the right thing to do – even if it conflicts with the understanding of scripture. 

          I will leave this with you til my next posting.

116. Sometimes it takes more than an angry facebook post.

I am wondering if you can spare a few hours for me? Actually, it is to help with a fear.  And with all fears, it is grounded in reality, and made worse by my imagination.  But let me explain my fear, and how you can help.

To understand my fear, one needs to understand marriage.  Marriage is not for the weak of heart, the demands that it places on a person, the challenges that you never thought you might face, are all part of the deal.  And this is one of those situations.

          Never in my life was I afraid of rape.  Yes, I knew that men could be raped, but I never personally worried about such.  And yes, I was outraged by women being raped, but it was never a fear.  That is, until I got married.

          Marriage is truly two people becoming as one.  What happens to Wanna, happens to me.  Don’t hand me that crap about co-dependency, when Wanna experiences a victory or a joy, I am elated.  When she suffers a loss, or other misery, I am saddened.  One of the worst periods of our marriage for me was when she had a peptic ulcer.  Not being able to do anything as she was in considerable pain is a misery I can wait to revisit.

          Thus, comes my fear of rape.

Wanna is mostly safe from rape.  I am not inclined towards violence, I know I talk a good talk, but when push comes to shove I really am non-violent.  So, she is mostly safe because I am not inclined to rape her.  The idea that most women are most prone to sexual violence with men they know, and in their own home, more than disturbs me.

          But, Wanna works downtown, and commutes by sky train.  There are times when she travels late in the evening.  Night time is always worse for me.  There are fewer people on the train, and the crime of rape is one that is done away from the prying eyes and helping hands of others.

          So, when I wait for her at the sky train station, and she is late, I worry.  If the trains are running slow, I worry.  If she was slow getting to the train, or stayed late at work, and thus arrives late, I worry.

          For I know that some asshole, who feels entitled, and takes the not subtle clues from our culture that it is okay to rape, may see her, and decide that she owes him.  And that tears me apart inside.

Is this simply wild fantasy?  No.  I know about the idea, or concept, of developing fears so that one’s anxiety has a place to be expressed.  This is not that case.  Yes, it is true, Wanna may never be the target of sexual violence, and that is my hope.  But my fears are not unfounded.

          This Saturday evening, a group who actively supports rape – the founder believes that rape should be legal if it occurs on private property – are planning a meeting in Vancouver, as well as in Surrey. 

Think about that for a moment.  A group that actively supports sexual violence against women feels free to meet.  Now, the plan is to meet, share a secret exchange and go to meet in a private location.  As I said, the commission of rape is one done away from prying eyes, and helping hands.  And while it might be a good sign that they want to hide, it is still alarming that this group feels free to meet in the first place.  I wonder if Wanna’s rapist will be there?  Yes, he is a character in my imagination, but this is the kind of event that such a character would attend.

          So, comes my request.

If you could spare a couple of hours Saturday night and join me and others to protest, it would be appreciated.  The protest is to be non-violent – fighting violence with violence is absurd – but it is a bearing a testament that we, particularly men, do not agree with this group.  That we see masculinity differently. 

          It is up to us, and it takes more than an angry facebook post, to create a world where rape is not tolerated.  So please, if you could take a couple of hours to help me confront my fear, I would appreciate it.

115. A Holy Alliance

When I last I wrote, I wrote on confronting a temptation within my life.  Again, I come back to that the temptation was selfish and self-centred in nature.  And I overcame that temptation, as I did other temptations in my life. And it was through a holy alliance.

          My sobriety is a miracle.  What makes it miraculous is that there is that awesome mix of God’s grace, my desire, God’s healing love, and my putting one foot in front of the other.  Prayerfully, I put in my time, one day at a time for months.  There were times that I would make it to ninety days, then other times, not so long. 

          It was the meeting of my will, and my decision, and god’s grace and healing.  I stayed clean one day at a time.  I went to meetings.  I prayed.  I read the literature.  I worked the steps.  I helped set meetings up.  I made coffee.  I put the tables and chairs away.  I talked with people, went for coffee.  Each a small step in obedience.  Each an opening for God’s grace. 

          Over time, my obsession passed.  I have heard it suggested that the opposite of addiction is not abstinence, but belonging.  This makes sense to me, for it was in addiction that I was separated from those people around me and from God.  So in taking those small steps; I became a member of something larger than myself. 

          Over time, as the obsession passed, I began to understand the nature of that obsession.  That although it was an obsession of self - and addiction is always a ‘what about me?’ disease – it was also incredibly destructive.

So, we come to these days...

I think that spirituality is about doing the next right thing.  It is not lived on the grand scale.  That is not to say that we cannot have big dreams of what we are called to do.  But however great our calling, it comes down to doing the next right thing.

          The realm of Christianity is full of those who seem to have forgotten this.  Preachers who have become enamoured with themselves, and the greater glory of God they are fulfilling.  And yet, they fail miserably at doing what I think we are called to be – decent human beings.  It seems left on the wayside, that it is our actions that speak louder than our words. 

          As I read scripture, how we are in the word seems to be much more important than anything else we might do.

1 Cor. 13:1 – 4 If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

So obedience in my life?  It is the day to day decisions of how I go through life, and I do not see an area that is not included.  Decisions such as where do I buy my clothes?  Do I buy at the place that creates sweat shops, or do I realize that the price of such cheap clothes is too much for this world?  How do I treat the people that I come into contact with through the day?  How will I be as a boss?  A husband?  A father?  A member of my community?  A member of my church?  How will I do whatever I am doing at that moment?

          This approach may seem odd.  But what I realize is that there are no meaningless moments.  And that is not meant to pressure you, or me, but it is to realize that each moment is an unfolding of grace in my life. 

So I think back to earlier times, when I was first sober. There were no inconsequential moments.  There was a desperation of escaping a life of torment.  Maybe it is maturity, maybe it is complacency, but that level of intensity has passed.

          Yet, I know that the same magic, the same miracle that I experienced in my first days clean, is still happening.  My Christianity is not a self-improvement course, and my righteousness is not a possession, and my obedience is always reduced to what I am doing and who is in front of me, and how I am going to be in the world.  And therein lies the holy alliance between me and god, and therein lies the miraculous.