May I Interrupt?

“Simon Peter, when he saw it, fell to his knees before Jesus. “Master, leave. I’m a sinner and can’t handle this holiness. Leave me to myself.” (Luke 5:8; MSG)

Shortly before this moment, Jesus, in an effort to better teach the eager crowd closing in on him, interrupted Simon in his work and had him put his boat back out in the water. I would like to be able to read of this interaction and the time in-between, but maybe it is better to imagine it...

Simon, James and John spend a long, tiring night out on the lake only to come back empty-handed. They beach their boats and begin the thankless task of washing their large nets. Perhaps they think about how many nights there were like this, how they will provide for their families, when they will finally haul in a good catch. Who knows if they even notice or pay attention to Jesus and his growing crowd?

Then Jesus just climbs right into Simon’s boat. Totally hops in uninvited and then has the nerve to ask Simon to get in, too, and put the boat back out in the water. Simon recognizes Jesus as the man who recently healed his mother-in-law (Luke 4:38-39). Feeling a bit obligated, he complies with Jesus’s request, then sits nearby in the boat while Jesus teaches the masses gathered on the shore.

I can’t help but imagine Simon spent that time in the boat much like many of us do in the pew on Sunday. He catches bits and pieces of what Jesus says, but he is distracted. His mind is on the long night and lack of fish. He thinks about the net he has yet to wash. He knows better than to expect James and John will do it for him since he’s stuck out here with this Jesus character. Simon’s attention is feeble at best as he checks off his mental to-do list and tries to prepare for the coming day.

As Jesus wraps up his sermon, Simon yawns. Jesus turns to him and says, “Push out into deep water and let your nets out for a catch.” (Luke 5:4) Simon thinks, “Is he kidding? Seriously? I didn’t catch anything all night and I already have one net waiting for me to wash on the shore and now he wants me to take the boat out again and toss my clean nets out?” He summons all his courage and patience as he again remembers that Jesus healed his mother-in-law. Half-protesting, half-obedient, Simon does as Jesus asks, sure to point out the clear folly in his request as he threw the nets out. Immediately, the nets fill with fish. So many fish that James and John have to bring their boat out to help haul in the catch.

How often do I find myself in this situation? I’m tired, I’m frustrated, nothing’s going my way, I’m worried about bills, I don’t have enough time, and then – God interrupts. Absolutely no consideration for what I think or feel about it, he tells me to put the boat in the water. Then he talks for awhile and I sit in the boat, yawning and half-heartedly listening as I think about things I need to get done. Then God nudges me and says, “Go deeper.” Somewhat reluctantly, I go. And suddenly I find myself in that place of God’s Abundance, that Romans 5:1-2 promise of the Peace and Grace that come side-by-side with stepping out in faith.

I often feel like Simon Peter, falling to my knees and saying, “I do not deserve this.” Because I know, as Simon knew, that I could’ve done better, listened closer, tried harder, been more willing, etc, etc. The thing is, I never could be “good enough” for God’s Grace. I never could do or say enough to earn his Love. Which is why I am thankful that God’s Grace is freely given. There isn’t a thing I have to do to earn his Love – it is already mine without condition. And no matter how many times I fall, he will pick me up, dust me off and kiss me on the forehead as he says, “I forgive you.” Every time.

So how does Jesus reply when Simon falls to his knees and confesses his feelings of unworthiness?

“Jesus said to Simon, “There is nothing to fear.” (Luke 5:10b)

There is nothing to fear.

With that, Jesus tells Simon, James and John that they will be fishers of men. The three new disciples leave everything – everything – behind and follow Jesus. Because it never really was about the fish, was it?

My prayer today is that I work harder to stay focused on that which God reveals to me. It is so easy to be distracted by the things of this world and my daily life. I pray that I may strengthen my ears to therefore be quicker in perking them up when I hear the voice of my God speaking to me.

Amen!

Why Does God Allow Suffering?

“I found myself in trouble and went looking for my Lord; my life was an open wound that wouldn’t heal. When friends said, “Everything will turn out all right,” I didn’t believe a word they said.” Psalm 77:2; MSG

Currently I am going through a training course geared toward providing pastoral care in a hospital setting. The course is rooted in the principles of Christian love and Christian care giving. Since it is taught in a hospital that is not faith-based we are challenged to move outside the “Jesus is the answer” box and provide Christian care without invoking the name of Christ out of respect for those whose faith journey follows a different path. This is hard for some, as all of us in the class have testimony to how being a believer has made all the difference in how we cope with and handle the presence of suffering in our lives. It proved an especially challenging exercise given the question we faced in our most recent class: "Why does God allow bad things to happen?"

We were given the week between classes to ponder the question and prepare for discussion. My thoughts on it ranged from answers found in my Christian faith to principles and ideas from Eastern religions, different philosophical musings and the plain ol’, “It is what it is,” ideology. I also asked a lot of people around me to hear their thoughts on the subject. In AA meetings that week I listened a little harder when people shared how they moved through trials and what their varied spiritual experiences were and are.

For the duration of class we carried on a very involved discussion. We covered every range of answers and lack thereof, we explored rebuttals, some shared stories, many shed tears, some struggled with how not to try to lead someone to Jesus or give "cheap grace." One gentleman especially struggled tonight because this coming Saturday is the one-year anniversary of his beloved wife's death. His faith was evident though, as through his tears he continued to give thanks and praise to God and shared how God moved through his wife's illness and death and the growth he experienced as a result. After class he was visibly having a hard time holding it together, so I walked over to give him a hug and he burst into sobs, lifting me off the floor as I hugged him tightly and he cried. I just held onto him for a little bit, then when I sensed his breathing slow, I told him I loved him, gave him an extra squeeze and walked away.

Ultimately, that is what I walked away with from the discussion. I'd gone in having concluded that I have plenty of answers to that question that can be tailored to all different kinds of people, but none is ever sufficient. In those crisis moments, those Psalm 77:1-10 moments, there isn’t really anything anyone can do or say to sufficiently explain suffering in a way that will bring comfort. However, I was unable to resolve that conclusion, thinking, okay, so then what? The lightbulb moment came in listening to everyone, to how much we want to fix people and show them the way, to the reminders from the chaplain that we are in the process, not the results, understanding it's okay not to have all the answers – perhaps the best answer is no answer at all, but a demonstration of Love through the simple act of having the Grace to allow people to be where they are, listening, genuinely caring and unconditionally loving. I believe, as experienced with my classmates and aware of it in myself, that sometimes we get so focused on how we can be of use and what that looks like that we forget to stay in the moment and instead block the incoming flow from the Spirit because we are trying to think our way to the best way rather than just letting God have his way.

I pray today that I may better learn how to let the Holy Spirit move through me, especially in opportunities to allow people to be where they are. May I be an instrument of God not only in my speaking, but even more so in my listening.

Amen!

Certainly Not the Least

“I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.” (Matt. 25:40, NIV)

Today I want to tell you about Michael.

Michael first attended a service at our church this past summer. He faithfully continued coming every Sunday after for our combined 9:30am service, and transitioned to the 10:30am service when we went back to our 8 and 10am services after Labor Day. Shortly after that, he began attending the 9:15am bible study before church. Michael certainly is not one to miss many of our potluck gatherings, or events at the church which involve food.

In the seven months he has attended our church, I’m not sure if Michael has missed a service. I’ve missed a few due to being out of town, so I can’t say with certainty that he hasn’t missed at all, but I do know that when I am there, he is there. He may have been late a couple of times, but he still showed up for his Jesus time.

I do not know what Michael’s official diagnosis is. Some in our church speculate that it is a form of schizophrenia, which is entirely possible. He carries some mannerisms many of us associate with autism. I would guess Michael’s age to be somewhere between 25 and 35. Depending on how well his meds are working, he might be able to communicate something that resembles a coherent thought. As we’ve gotten to know Michael, some of us are able to understand what he’s trying to say – if we pay close enough attention.

When Michael started coming to our church we had to make some personal adjustments. His imaginary friend often misbehaves during the service and Michael will argue with him and tell him to be quiet. This was a shock to our systems, to our traditional hearts that are not used to such interruption to the readings or the sermon. Some parishioners took longer to adjust than others, with scolding glances thrown in Michael’s direction (which of course had little to no effect). Michael occasionally gets up out of his pew and delivers notes to our priest while he gives the sermon at the podium.

It took some time to adjust, but gradually Michael became a beloved and necessary part of our family. In spite of his apparent mental impairments, Michael has enough comprehension to follow our service schedule when we have special services; as I mentioned above he comes to nearly every potluck dinner; he attends Sunday school where one lady always gets his coffee while he finds a donut; and he even attended confirmation classes with the youth group. He knows what it means to pray, and I’ve never been so moved watching someone receive communion as when Michael does. There is no question in my mind that he knows the meaning of Grace, even if he never could tell us so.

Of all the people in my church, perhaps none embraced Michael so immediately and lovingly as our priest. Rev. Jim didn’t bat an eye or falter in his sermon when Michael showed up and argued with the unseen troublemaker in his pew. The first time Michael came up the aisle during the sermon to deliver a bulletin with simple and incoherent words scrawled across it, Rev. Jim broke his message only to accept the note, smile and say, “Thank you Michael,” and pick right back up where he was. He was sure to welcome Michael after church, and has invested time in learning more about him through community contacts in an effort to better understand his situation.

To say that there were no dissenters would be a lie. There were a very few who didn’t like Michael’s repeated attendance and disruption of the service. For the most part, though, my beautiful church family welcomed him and loved him just as they welcome and love all who come through our doors, just as they welcomed and loved me when I came through the doors. And as we got to know Michael and he got to know us, we found a balance. His outbursts are fewer and farther between and he lets us get a little closer to him to at the exchange of peace, though still isn’t always all about the touch of a handshake. He recently celebrated his birthday, for which one of our members brought a cake to coffee hour and a couple of small gifts such as gloves to keep his hands warm this winter.

In the last few months, as South Carolina Episcopalians were thrown into a battle of church politics and religion, I’ve lost count of the number of times that, in my church family, the conversation has quickly turned to a story about Michael. Because Michael’s membership at our church and the way our parish family embraces him as one of our own exemplifies the Christian message. It reminds us in an obvious and tangible way who we are and why we follow Christ. We have grown together, Michael learning from us and, most importantly, us learning from Michael.

Could it be any coincidence he showed up shortly before the diocesan upheaval began?

My personal belief is that there is no such thing as coincidence. I find strength in the bond of my spiritual family, our open arms and our desire to follow Christ and share the good news. I find great hope while watching our leader grow from some apparent disenchantment into a greater shepherd of his flock, desiring to protect us and keep us in the light. Perhaps Michael taught him a few things, too.

Today I pray that those who are seeking will be met with the grace and love that Michael found. May God lead them with open minds toward open doors and open hearts.

Amen! :D