I took this from a friend's post on Facebook. Thank you, Kathy.
The above quote is something I've never read before. It grabbed hold of me instantly because I've been working on this concept in my life for some time now. I find today that there are several ways I can apply it's teaching.
Life in general
Marriage
Young people's romantic relationships
Friendships
Parenthood
Work
The first claim in this saying is one that I grew up with, in some ways. My father could be very stern when his ire was riled. My mother put on a stern face in church, when she received my report card from school, and when I hit my sister. I was told that Christian girls did not behave in such ways as playing with my hair in church, staring out the window in school daydreaming, or hitting my sister. We were also taught for some unknown reason that Christians did not dance or play cards or drink any form of alcohol or wear bikinis. (Well, I can understand those last two.) Somehow too, maybe through our parents' portrayal of our rich neighbors as having strayed from the path, we were taught to equate money with evil, and the things money could buy with a sinful life. Included in that in a way was an education past high school. Somehow, the people whom my father considered learned and about whom he spoke with reverence because of their knowledge were still not considered to be walking in The Way. Maybe it was because in order to get learning you had to have money, and when you were getting learning you got exposed to a whole lot of things not allowed by our church, like drinking and dancing and bikinis (unless your college was near La Jolla, where they did without the bikinis). As well as my parents, all the adults at church wore stern faces throughout worship on Sundays, and most other times there as well. They always seemed to be unhappy with us three girls, perhaps especially me and my little sister, since we were the runabouts of the family. I'd listen, however, when reprimanded and hang my head and cry, where my sister simply didn't seem to notice. She had just as much fun as she pleased sans guilt, thank you.
So I knew that the Christian life was a stern one, oh yes.
The summer before my 5th grade year in school my mother suddenly "got religion" and decided the family would be far more likely to go to heaven if we attended the Baptist church our neighbor did. It was a good decision for me, actually, as I found the faces in the new church to be very friendly, the sermons understandable, the singing far more fun, and I made friends quickly. As soon as I realized I was ok even though I got bad grades in school, I was happier than I'd ever been before. Of course, it helped that the church we now attended was in no way connected to the school we now attended. We had been at the parochial school run by our previous church until then, where everyone knew everything you'd ever done wrong, and you didn't even get a reprieve on Sundays as the same kids were in the Sunday School. Now I had a chance to start over from the very beginning, a clean slate, a fresh start, a new day. I took it!
This is what I call the Charity of God.
Soon we learned that we were chosen, the elite, the ones God picked from the beginning to be in His kingdom and do His work. What that work was we learned was to save souls out of the world outside and bring them into His fold inside - inside OUR walls, not other churches'. We knew WE had THE Word, because our pastor was the only one around who preached straight from the Bible - not just any Bible, mind you, the King James Version of the Bible, which our church claimed to be the only "authorized" version in existence on the globe. This was the only thing that mattered to the adults in the church, and they taught us well. As long as we knew Scripture, and came to church regularly, accepted Jesus, were baptized by immersion, went to Sunday School AND C.E. (Christian Education) in the evening, prayer group on Wednesdays and Pioneer Girls and Boys' Brigade, and went on all the church outings, and went forward for altar calls, you were going to heaven no matter what else you did or how you behaved toward other Christians. And it didn't even matter an iota how you behaved toward non-Christians, as they were lost and therefore deserving of the damnation they had chosen, and not of our charity. But, of course, God wanted us to go door to door telling them how lost they were and how much better off they'd be if only they'd say the prayer and come join us in our club- er, church. As the years went by, though, and I grew into my teen years and through high school, I began to see that there were other ways of existing in the world without being of the world, and still fulfill the law of Christ. We were called by our youth leader to be disciples of Christ, not just mere Christians, but followers of His way in every aspect of our lives. He made sure we had access to the Word of the Lord in our everyday English, not only the King James version of the Bible. He spent time with us as a group on outings and studying the Word, and always had time if one of us came by his office with a problem. He never looked at us sternly, even when we messed up. He was our savior. Then the church decided they didn't like his personal charismatic style of faith, though we hadn't seen any of it in our youth meetings or any interactions with him, and fired him. The guy they got in after him was psychologically abusive. The choir director lorded it over me in rehearsal, forbidding me to help my dad learn his notes, and I was out of there. My senior year of high school I said good-bye to the church that had taught me to sing instead of sulk. I knew God was calling me out of the "ivory tower" into the "world of woe". There was no more charity of God there anymore. It was only full of stern choices. The day I walked out of there forever the congregation was singing "Love Divine, All Loves Excelling", one of my favorite hymns. I knew it was the right thing to do. And I was not alone: Love had left the building.
Through many dangers, toils, and snares, I wandered my way to a faith that was more open, more friendly, more user-friendly. My one goal in life was to keep from alienating people further by my preachy ways or cliquey, jargonny, church slang. I set out to be different from that congregation, to be a different kind of city set on a hill, a softer light to the world, a beacon of hope instead of a ray of judgment. I wanted, above all, to be-friend the world, not judge it, not condemn it. I knew all too well my own short-comings, and if God could love me anyway I was no one to cast out the outcast. So I embarked on life's journey.
Christians sometimes talk of the slippery slope, referring to allowing things the Bible expressly forbids, or to allowing things the Bible may not forbid but that have always been forbidden by the Church as leading down the slippery slope to the things the Bible does forbid, like whoring, divorce, homosexuality, fornication, lying, swearing, cheating, stealing, murdering, women preaching in church when there are men present, yeah. These things are all forbidden in Scripture, but the things that aren't but were thought to lead to them, like drinking wine or having a beer with your buddies, playing Go Fishin' or Rummy, dancing, saying some bad words nobody could tell us why were bad, placing anything on top of the Bible on the shelf..... these led to the other things, so they were stern no-no's for us. Well, I did them. I thought, why not? I made a lot of friends too. I did more than them, though. Because I found that the elders of the Church had been right. Those things led to the others. But I had a lot of fun, and I had a lot of friends, and I got where I wanted to get by a gift of God through a guy named Bill Hall. So I must not have been wrong, must I? God must like us to live a bit loosely, really. Because a lot of people stopped going to church in the 70's as a fall-out from the 60's, even after Vatican II where the Pope changed all the sacred rules Christians have lived and died by for centuries. And I noticed that when some leaders acted more like just everyday folks instead of so weirdly different from the rest of the world, the youth groups grew, yeah, which would have to mean the Church would keep on growing instead of continuing to die, right? And we Christians who let our hair down got a lot happier too. We just had a great old time of it!
This was neither the stern choice nor the charity of God, this jeering.
My life did not turn back. Oh no, I can't let myself off that easily. Not there, nor for years after, did I follow the Voice that I heard that day, saying "Didn't you promise to follow Me?" No, I'm sorry to say, I wasted many years still after that day. There are far too many people running around the world thumping their Bibles in the faces of poor, over-wrought, under-paid, insecure, lost, desperate, single mothers and fathers and teen mothers and fathers and sick people. I didn't need to add my voice to theirs. Besides, I really didn't know what I wanted to say. I just wanted to sing. And I was going to play the world's cards and win at least a chance to learn how to sing really well. Oh yes I was. And I did. I'm a college graduate with letters after my name, one of the first in my dad's family. I've directed three church choirs, sung countless solos for church services, funerals, weddings, you-name-it, been a member of some of the most prestigious singing organizations, traveled the UK and Scotland, Hawaii, sung for President Nixon, portrayed various peasant types and high society ladies in operas in two major cities for money, I've vacationed every year at a resort on the beach, I've had a brand new house built to our specs, I've begun to start a business...... I could go on but why? I don't need the acclaim (small though it fittingly be, if that). I got what I wanted, by hook or by crook. I played by the rules, and won a small taking.
But that isn't the charity of God, nor a stern choice at all. That was easy.
What I find to be a stern choice is this: Many years ago I made some promises, both to God and to myself. I made a promise to my spouse. I made unspoken promises to my family. I've broken them all at times and in ways. I found myself despicable once, and turned around. I found myself despicable some more, and turned around. I found the world despicable, and turned around. I found my life despicable, and couldn't turn around, because if I did I'd be ruining the lives of at least three others. This is the stern choice. I can't walk away, I can't start over and do it right, I can't wipe the slate clean, I can't ever do it again, I can't, I can't, I can't, I.... can't.....
I'm a mess. My life is a mess. My kids are a mess. My spouse is a mess. Even my dog is a mess. (Why the cats aren't a mess too is beyond me.) I've gotten to do some really amazing things, for one in my family of origin. But now it's time to take stock and re-evaluate. Now it's time to put your money where your mouth is, Patty. Now it's time to make good on those promises, to God, to spouse, to kids, to self. (Yes, I do mean them in that order). Now it's time to be stern, and make the choices the world doesn't make. It's time to continue the game, even though you know you are going to lose. It's time to respond with something that at least looks like love, even when you can't find any inside yourself, one more time at least. It's time to stop jeering at the Messiah and start hollering for Him to save you, because that's all you have now. This is where the rubber hits the road. This is your refining by fire, hopefully to gold and not dross. But I am not able to do these things. I tell myself many days that I can't go on like this. I can't dredge up from the dried up bottom of the well one more "I love you" in the face of cold indifference, or make one more lunch in my sleep that somebody won't eat, wipe up one more puddle that somebody else should have wiped up without throwing a fit, tiptoe around one more morning to keep from waking the dead upstairs. I can't.
But this is the charity of God. He did it for me, when He couldn't walk one more step with that wood weighing down His whip-scarred back; when He couldn't look around at the women without saying a word for his mother, but not one more word for Peter and me and Thomas and the others; when He should have cursed the guards who murdered Him, when He could have sent the thieves dying deserved deaths both down to the lowest hell with Satan forever damned - He didn't. He took one more breath and made a promise of love to them, and to everyone on earth since them and before. He couldn't, but He did.
This was the charity of God, and God's stern choice.
How can I, puny human woman that I am, ever imagine I could do better??
This sternness of choice, this "hard saying", that to me to live is Christ and to die is gain... This is my choice. That charity of God, that He gave His life for my pitiful existence - not just to gain life for me, but to gain my freedom to live it - this charity of God I apply now daily, hourly, moment by moment, by His power alone. I bear the cost. What have I paid for this? What ransom have I been charged? What has been the cost? Is there a cost? I haven't noticed. When I look around me all I see is blessing. No, there is no cost on my part. Jesus already paid it.
That's why I give it to the world, free of charge, no strings attached, like He gave it to me.
What language shall I borrow to thank Thee, dearest Friend,
For this Thy dying sorrow, Thy pity without end?
Oh make me Thine forever! And should I fainting be,
Lord let me never, never outlive my love for Thee!
Amen
No comments:
Post a Comment