Monday, August 12, 2013
Numb (Ordinary Time - Day 70)
2 Samuel 13:23-39
In
this story, we have Absalom - one of David's sons - and he's throwing a
party for all his brothers. Two years ago, Absalom's sister Tamar was
raped by his brother Amnon. When it happened, Tamar wanted to tell the
king what happened, but Absalom told her to keep quiet. He told her to
get over it essentially, while he developed a rage that grew for two
years. He had to cover his tracks. He had to develop a grand scheme, a
way to pay back his brother for violating his sister.
So, the rage explodes two years later. The way he's gonna pay his brother back is by getting him drunk. He's going to get his servants to kill him while he's drunk and numb.
The plan unfolds perfectly. The servants murder Amnon, and Absalom runs away.
When I was younger, a family member that I looked up to decided to violate me while I was sleeping. I was terrified and alone. I didn't know what to do, so I kept quiet. I didn't want to stir up any family controversy. I felt like an incest pig, a worthless piece of human garbage. I swore to myself after it all went down that no one would ever find out. I considered myself guilty, even though I didn't do anything wrong. Or, did I?
I can relate to Absalom and Tamar. I can relate to Tamar in the way of being terrified of the shame that I would take on. I can relate to Absalom in the way of keeping it on the down low, afraid of telling people what happened.
I believe the lack of action on my part was what caused the most damage in the situation. Because, I left that night a twisted, sexually confused, isolated and fearful victim. Rage set in. The anger I had towards my family member grew, and grew, and grew. I constantly thought of how I could pay them back, but instead of killing them I slowly killed myself. Through alcohol, I escaped the tormented mixture of rage and shame, never having enough to make it go away. As my emotional problems were directed at someone else, I drank myself to oblivion. There was no way to escape it. Eventually, I crossed a line with alcohol, to where my body craved it even if I didn't want it. I had to drink, and once I started I couldn't physically stop.
This rage and shame lasted for about fifteen years. That's how much time I spent in my head, planning, plotting, and scheming ways I could possibly get the person back, even though I had no intention of physically harming them. My way was to manifest that anger into hurting myself, thinking that maybe that person would see how much harm they caused me. I was an innocent victim, or was I?
When I first stepped into Alcoholics Anonymous, I knew in the bottom of my heart what my first course of action was. I knew that if I was to get over drinking, it would have nothing to do with staying away from alcohol or just not drinking. It would have nothing to do with white knuckling or just hanging around with the "right" people. It would have everything to do with coming to terms with where I had gone wrong and forgiving anything that was done wrong to me. I knew that unless I started there, recovery would be nonexistent.
I procrastinated, prolonged, and avoided the work as long as I could. I let the emotional pain get as deep as it could. It took two years of being dry, miserable, useless, and sober, to finally hit my breaking point. I worked with a sponsor to find out what I had done wrong, and yes I had a part to play.
Like Absalom, I didn't want to create a family drama. I was too afraid of what people would think to tell the truth. I was too ashamed to look at myself as a human being and not a piece of garbage. Through the help of my sponsor, I was able to realize this for the first time ever. I realized that my family member was a sick person, and that they had probably spent the same amount of time as I had feeling the same way. As I looked back over all the years at how I used that person as my personal scapegoat for all my problems, I felt bad for them. I sent a letter telling them that I forgave them. I finally came out to the family.
The rage and the shame were transformed to solidarity and grace. I no longer see that person as a human trash can but a child of God, someone worthy of love and grace - the kind I wasn't able to give myself for so long.
The time length for being a victim was not long. It happened in thirty minutes or however long it took. After that, there was action to take. Instead, I chose to stay quiet and let the rage and retaliation grow in my heart, blocking me off from any deep and meaningful relationships. I chose to blame myself, blame others, and blame God, biting off the hands that fed me.
When someone hurts me or offends me, I have choices to make. I can either do nothing or do something. The way to a living misery is to keep it inside, hoping it'll simply disappear one day. Eventually though, the pain will get too great - a kind of pain that no amount of alcohol or drugs will numb. It becomes a matter of life or death.
I thank God for the grace to choose life, and for the grace to keep hanging on long enough to find the way to go. I thank god for the pathway to peace, and for the ability to see people who were once considered enemies as friends.
Today's Action: Is there anyone we are "raging" on today? Why?
So, the rage explodes two years later. The way he's gonna pay his brother back is by getting him drunk. He's going to get his servants to kill him while he's drunk and numb.
The plan unfolds perfectly. The servants murder Amnon, and Absalom runs away.
When I was younger, a family member that I looked up to decided to violate me while I was sleeping. I was terrified and alone. I didn't know what to do, so I kept quiet. I didn't want to stir up any family controversy. I felt like an incest pig, a worthless piece of human garbage. I swore to myself after it all went down that no one would ever find out. I considered myself guilty, even though I didn't do anything wrong. Or, did I?
I can relate to Absalom and Tamar. I can relate to Tamar in the way of being terrified of the shame that I would take on. I can relate to Absalom in the way of keeping it on the down low, afraid of telling people what happened.
I believe the lack of action on my part was what caused the most damage in the situation. Because, I left that night a twisted, sexually confused, isolated and fearful victim. Rage set in. The anger I had towards my family member grew, and grew, and grew. I constantly thought of how I could pay them back, but instead of killing them I slowly killed myself. Through alcohol, I escaped the tormented mixture of rage and shame, never having enough to make it go away. As my emotional problems were directed at someone else, I drank myself to oblivion. There was no way to escape it. Eventually, I crossed a line with alcohol, to where my body craved it even if I didn't want it. I had to drink, and once I started I couldn't physically stop.
This rage and shame lasted for about fifteen years. That's how much time I spent in my head, planning, plotting, and scheming ways I could possibly get the person back, even though I had no intention of physically harming them. My way was to manifest that anger into hurting myself, thinking that maybe that person would see how much harm they caused me. I was an innocent victim, or was I?
When I first stepped into Alcoholics Anonymous, I knew in the bottom of my heart what my first course of action was. I knew that if I was to get over drinking, it would have nothing to do with staying away from alcohol or just not drinking. It would have nothing to do with white knuckling or just hanging around with the "right" people. It would have everything to do with coming to terms with where I had gone wrong and forgiving anything that was done wrong to me. I knew that unless I started there, recovery would be nonexistent.
I procrastinated, prolonged, and avoided the work as long as I could. I let the emotional pain get as deep as it could. It took two years of being dry, miserable, useless, and sober, to finally hit my breaking point. I worked with a sponsor to find out what I had done wrong, and yes I had a part to play.
Like Absalom, I didn't want to create a family drama. I was too afraid of what people would think to tell the truth. I was too ashamed to look at myself as a human being and not a piece of garbage. Through the help of my sponsor, I was able to realize this for the first time ever. I realized that my family member was a sick person, and that they had probably spent the same amount of time as I had feeling the same way. As I looked back over all the years at how I used that person as my personal scapegoat for all my problems, I felt bad for them. I sent a letter telling them that I forgave them. I finally came out to the family.
The rage and the shame were transformed to solidarity and grace. I no longer see that person as a human trash can but a child of God, someone worthy of love and grace - the kind I wasn't able to give myself for so long.
The time length for being a victim was not long. It happened in thirty minutes or however long it took. After that, there was action to take. Instead, I chose to stay quiet and let the rage and retaliation grow in my heart, blocking me off from any deep and meaningful relationships. I chose to blame myself, blame others, and blame God, biting off the hands that fed me.
When someone hurts me or offends me, I have choices to make. I can either do nothing or do something. The way to a living misery is to keep it inside, hoping it'll simply disappear one day. Eventually though, the pain will get too great - a kind of pain that no amount of alcohol or drugs will numb. It becomes a matter of life or death.
I thank God for the grace to choose life, and for the grace to keep hanging on long enough to find the way to go. I thank god for the pathway to peace, and for the ability to see people who were once considered enemies as friends.
Today's Action: Is there anyone we are "raging" on today? Why?
Sunday, August 11, 2013
Saturday, August 10, 2013
Projector (Ordinary Time - Day 68)
2 Samuel 12:15-31
wreck. He piles more havoc on top of the present chaos, and decides
to conquer the city of Rabbah. The Ammonites and Israelites have been
fighting repeatedly, and Joab – David's commanding officer –
invites David to take the king's crown. David knows that if he
doesn't hurry, the credit won't go to him. So, he takes the king, his
crown, and puts the crown on his own head.
We're told in the first part of this
passage that God “afflicts the child, causing him to come down
with a sickness, and the child dies in seven days.”
I can see the argument right now:
“Well, God can do whatever He wants. He's the only one who knows
what's just and what's not. It's okay for God to kill babies, but not
us humans. Sometimes, God's will can't be understood by our human
mind, and we have to accept that whatever He does is right.”
If I'm a
literalist, I can comfortably read this passage and say that whatever
God's will is is good, even if it looks like killing a baby. Right?
But, I'm not a
literalist. I don't believe that God kills anybody. I believe this
story is written from a human point of view, and whenever we humans
put the pen to the paper, we attribute things we can't explain to a
God we don't understand. After all, doesn't it just make sense to
create some sort of meaning for the painful things in life? So, the
author attributes the child dying to a God who is paying back David
for his wrongdoing. In other words, the author is saying that God
kills the innocent for the wrongdoing of the guilty.
As a friend of
friends who've experienced the heartbreak of losing a child, I just
can't come to grips with this sort of thinking. I never heard my
friends blame God for the loss of their child. Maybe they did
inwardly. Maybe it crossed their minds. Maybe it caused them to look
back over their lives and wonder, “What could I possibly have
done to deserve this?”
Yet, here we have
David, who's just killed a guy for his wife. They have a baby, and
the baby doesn't make it. Did David not get the ball rolling himself
when it came to creating havoc and pain? Was he not a man whore? Did
he not sleep with numerous women? Did he not have a problem playing
peeping Tom and going to any length to get what he wanted?
While the child is
living, David fasts, weeps, prays, and cries out for God to show
mercy on him. No answer. He sleeps on the floor, stays inside, and
hopes against hope that the child will live. No answer, at least not
the answer he wants.
I'm having trouble
seeing David as a “man after God's own heart.” He is a train
Then, he cleans all
the Ammonite cities out. He takes the people and forces them into
slave labor, using axes, shovels, and picks. Then, we're reminded of
a certain story about the ancestors of the Israelites. David sets
the people to making bricks.
David is doing to
the Ammonites what God rescued the Israelites from – forcing them
to make bricks. David is taking his pain, his frustration, his
misery, and using it as ammunition for the innocent. He's repeating
what he believes his God did to his child – hurting the innocent
for the mistakes of the guilty. He's living out his belief that God
is full of pent up retaliation, and people are dying for it. People
are paying with their lives for his belief system.
One day while I was
at work, I was frustrated with one of my coworkers. He's a fifty year
old black dude. In my opinion, he seemed very dependent on other
people, including myself. The more I heard him talk about how he
“deserved” handouts, the more pissed and judgmental I became of
him. I kept it all inside, and didn't realize how bad off I really
was. I was so engulfed in judgment and stereotypes that I couldn't
see any good in him.
This went on for a
couple weeks, oblivious to the fact that I was about to explode on
him. I painted his as the “typical black person.” I let all those
conservative voices talking about how handouts were bad, and how
people who relied on handouts were lazy, get into my head and start
running the show.
What really was
going on was this: I was looking at myself. I think everyone should
be taking care of me and looking out for my best intentions. If
you're not gonna take care of me, then I'll complain about it and
bitch about it until the cows come home or I start thinking
differently.
I was using my
defects and my flaws to paint a distorted picture of my fellows. And,
the result was I did blow up on him. In fact, I said some things that
were pretty racist. I told him how he was always looking for
handouts, but if he didn't like them he would bitch about them.
Needless to say, I
was at my bottom in this particular situation. I knew I was wrong. It
was clear as day. As a result of my own defects going unattended, I
projected my flaws onto someone else, and made an innocent person pay
for my problems.
My point is this:
When I am not spiritually right and hard stuff happens, my natural
resort is to make the people around me pay for it. I want to blame
God. I want to blame the world. I want to blame Satan. I want to
blame my upbringing, my childhood, my pastor, my church, and anything
can go on this list. As long as I don't have to humble myself and
look at how I helped get the ball of misery rolling myself, I can
project onto everyone else and make them my scapegoats.
It didn't take me
long to realize that I had a completely inaccurate picture of my
coworker. I did what I always do when I get resentful and hurt other
people – prayed and then worked the tenth step of Alcoholics
Anonymous. I confessed what I did to my girlfriend, and had what I
needed to make amends with my coworker. The next morning, I
apologized for what I told him and asked him if there was anything I
could do to make it right. We hugged and the slate was spotless and
clean.
We love each other
now. We laugh all day and every day. He's really funny and I just
couldn't allow myself to see it before. I'm very grateful that when
frustration, pain, and resentment come, there is a different solution
than what comes naturally. There is a spiritual alternative, and it
works!
When I project my problems onto God, I have a God who should be feared.
But,
I believe in a God who is constantly looking for ways to inject
restoration into the brokenness of humanity, who is on the lookout for
ways to bring joy and peace through messy human beings. If I project my
problems onto God and blame God for my distorted creations, God
transforms from loving to vengeful, compassionate to wrathful.
In
a nutshell, I believe in a God who doesn't afflict children with deadly
diseases. I believe in a God who loves humanity enough to not be a
dictator, but at the same time always cares about us. When we want God,
we find God; when we don't, we don't.
Friday, August 9, 2013
Sleepin' Around (Ordinary Time - Day 67)
2 Samuel 12:1-14
Last night, I was having frozen yogurt
with my small group, and we started talking about the state of our
church. As I listened, I could tell that our church is in a
transition state. There's something in the air, and it's causing
people to question things.
People aren't doing what they're
expected to do, and it's pissing other people off. I made sure to
chime in with the voice of righteousness and tell the people sitting
at my table that we shouldn't make judgments about how much or how
little someone is doing something.
It wasn't five minutes later that I
completely contradicted my own statement and started going off on the
people I thought weren't doing things right. It was a perfect example
of what happens when I think I'm the voice of righteousness. I'll say
something profound and leader-worthy, and then blow it up with my own
contradictory bad-mouthing of people who aren't living the way I
think they're supposed to live.
In today's passage, the prophet Nathan
is confronting David about murdering Uriah the Hittite after sleeping
with his wife. Yes, that's right. The man after God's own heart is
having a come to Jesus because he's just screwed up big time.
Interestingly, the way Nathan confronts
David isn't through a lecture or a scolding, but through a parable.
Nathan tells David about two men – one rich with lots of livestock,
and the other poor with a mere lamb. The poor man's lamb is like
family. It eats off the plates of the family, drinks from the family
cup, and even sleeps in the family bed. It's like a daughter to the
man.
One day, a visitor arrives to the rich
man's house, but the rich man is too stingy to give up any of his
livestock to feed the hungry visitor. So, he goes after the poor
man's lamb. The rich man steals the poor man's lamb because he
doesn't want to sacrifice any of his bountiful herd.
When David hears the parable he
screams, “Someone should find where this man is and kill him!”
Nathan responds, “The rich man is
you.”
When David realizes
that he's the character in the story, he confesses his screwup and
says he's sinned against God.
I'm convinced that
my eyes are naturally set to see the mistakes and flaws in other
people. When I hear a news story or watch other people, my eyes are
If I can see a
mistake and flaw in somebody else, that means I already know what the
flaw is. How do I know what it is? I've done it myself. I don't
notice other people's flaws if I don't have the flaws myself.
It is normal to
hone in on the defects of other people. It's normal to get into
political, theological, and philosophical conversations about how bad
or wrong politicians, church leaders, televangelists, or coworkers
are. That's why we have news media.
What's not normal
is taking a look at ourselves to see why we feel such a strong need
to hone in on other peoples' bad behavior. I believe there's a
spiritual alternative to every normal misgiving. So, if the normal
thing is to judge other people, then there must be a spiritual
solution. The spiritual solution I use is two fold.
First, I ask myself
certain questions about how I functioned throughout the day. Was I
resentful? Was I selfish? Was I thinking of myself most of the time?
There are about fifteen questions that I answer honestly to gauge
where my heart is each morning. If I don't do this, I am blind to my
own flaws. The more blind I am to my own flaws, the more I see the
flaws in others. Make sense?
The other way I can
gauge how accurately I'm seeing my own mistakes is through others. I
find somebody I trust, who knows the good and bad, and give them
permission to speak.
The lie is that I'm
always righteous. The truth is that most of the time I'm not.
Today's Action: I'm going to
see or hear something that pisses me off today. I have two options:
judge the person in question, or ask myself if I share the same flaw.
Do something about it.
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
Lame (Ordinary Time - Day 65)
2 Samuel 9:1-13
King
David starts thinking and asking around if there's anybody from Saul's
family left. He wants to seek them them kindness. He's seeking out
someone from the family of the one who spent his whole life trying to
kill David and trying to hunt him down.
One of David's staff informs him that yes, there is one person. His name is Mephibosheth. He's lame in both feet, and he's living a couple towns away. So David sends some folks to go get Meph and bring him to David's house.
This is what David tells Meph: "In honor of your father Jonathan and your grandfather Saul, I'm giving you back all the properties that Saul used to own. Also, from now on you'll be eating at my table. You're meals from now on are on me."
Meph stammers and studders, and asks David, "Why would you do this for me? I'm just a stray dog."
David responds, "Because your father was a great friend of mine, and I want to bless you in memory of him."
In that moment, Meph realizes that David is serious. He can't believe it. He's been living off the good graces of others, and now David's setting him up for life. He's going to have his own place, with his own caretakers, and will have space for himself. Not to mention, he's going to eat at the king's table every single meal.
Here David is, looking for anyone left from the family of Saul. He spent years running away and trying to escape the wrath of Saul, yet now he's still looking for ways to bless his family. Not only that, but he invites his enemy's family to the table.
Last week at the restaurant I work at, we started a new tradition. It's not really new, but new to us. We took Communion together. All the staff present at the time came together at 2:00 to take the bread and wine as a family. It was an open table.
I think Meph represents all of us as we're invited to the table. I'm crippled by the constant knocking of depression, lust, and greed at the door of my heart. I'm crippled by the debilitating addiction to alcohol, and know that I'm one drink away from destruction. Yet, it's one more day of life. One more day of invitation to the table of the King.
Communion is for everyone who is crippled. Some of us are physically disabled, and others of us are set back by self-inflicted wounds that just won't heal. This story of David and Mephibosheth reminds us that the King is always inviting all of us to the table. The King wants to restore us. The King is trying to give us back what we lost along the way.
When Meph was offered this bountiful gift, the first words out of his mouth were about his unworthiness. He was just a stray dog. Who was he that the king should care about him? But David would have nothing of it. He wasn't going to let Meph turn down the offer. David intended on giving it to him.
Isn't this the story of us? Aren't we facing the choice everyday to either join the table or to turn it down because we're just stray dogs?
As we go out today, whatever we do, may we remember that God is inviting all of us to eat at the table. May we acknowledge the ways that we're crippled so that we don't get tunnel vision in seeing the handicaps of others. The table is for everyone, but some are going to feel they don't deserve it, that they're unworthy. However, when we truly acknowledge how crippled we really are, and how much we really need the food at the table, our self-awareness fades away into a heightened awareness of the God who's set us free to come and eat.
Today's Action: At some point today, grab some friends or coworkers and have an open table. Invite everyone to take the bread and the wine, to enjoy the inclusive invitation to the table.
One of David's staff informs him that yes, there is one person. His name is Mephibosheth. He's lame in both feet, and he's living a couple towns away. So David sends some folks to go get Meph and bring him to David's house.
This is what David tells Meph: "In honor of your father Jonathan and your grandfather Saul, I'm giving you back all the properties that Saul used to own. Also, from now on you'll be eating at my table. You're meals from now on are on me."
Meph stammers and studders, and asks David, "Why would you do this for me? I'm just a stray dog."
David responds, "Because your father was a great friend of mine, and I want to bless you in memory of him."
In that moment, Meph realizes that David is serious. He can't believe it. He's been living off the good graces of others, and now David's setting him up for life. He's going to have his own place, with his own caretakers, and will have space for himself. Not to mention, he's going to eat at the king's table every single meal.
Here David is, looking for anyone left from the family of Saul. He spent years running away and trying to escape the wrath of Saul, yet now he's still looking for ways to bless his family. Not only that, but he invites his enemy's family to the table.
Last week at the restaurant I work at, we started a new tradition. It's not really new, but new to us. We took Communion together. All the staff present at the time came together at 2:00 to take the bread and wine as a family. It was an open table.
I think Meph represents all of us as we're invited to the table. I'm crippled by the constant knocking of depression, lust, and greed at the door of my heart. I'm crippled by the debilitating addiction to alcohol, and know that I'm one drink away from destruction. Yet, it's one more day of life. One more day of invitation to the table of the King.
Communion is for everyone who is crippled. Some of us are physically disabled, and others of us are set back by self-inflicted wounds that just won't heal. This story of David and Mephibosheth reminds us that the King is always inviting all of us to the table. The King wants to restore us. The King is trying to give us back what we lost along the way.
When Meph was offered this bountiful gift, the first words out of his mouth were about his unworthiness. He was just a stray dog. Who was he that the king should care about him? But David would have nothing of it. He wasn't going to let Meph turn down the offer. David intended on giving it to him.
Isn't this the story of us? Aren't we facing the choice everyday to either join the table or to turn it down because we're just stray dogs?
As we go out today, whatever we do, may we remember that God is inviting all of us to eat at the table. May we acknowledge the ways that we're crippled so that we don't get tunnel vision in seeing the handicaps of others. The table is for everyone, but some are going to feel they don't deserve it, that they're unworthy. However, when we truly acknowledge how crippled we really are, and how much we really need the food at the table, our self-awareness fades away into a heightened awareness of the God who's set us free to come and eat.
Today's Action: At some point today, grab some friends or coworkers and have an open table. Invite everyone to take the bread and the wine, to enjoy the inclusive invitation to the table.
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
Wicked
Drew.
Visited Children's hospital
Maddy has brittle bones
The hospital is
Next to Saint Luke's
Saw Wicked
At the Hobby Center
Close enough that
Confetti hit me
Me
Aimed at me
Like the Orange Show
Good night
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)