+ The Good Life

Spontaneous Spiritual Combustion

Some of my friends are Fredrick Nietzsche devotees. Not me. However, I do agree with this thought of his:

“What doesn’t kill us will make us stronger.”

This idea describes the experience of the Jews who survived exile in Babylon. In the book of Ezra we see examples of how the hardships and trauma of their captivity refined and defined their character as Jewish people.

In Line with the Hand God in History

A thunder drum of heaven rolls in Luke’s description of Jesus entering his hometown (Luke 4). The Gospel writer portrays Jesus glowing with victory from his 40-day wilderness fast and successful triumph over Satan’s temptations. Unrolling the scroll of Isaiah in his local sanctuary, Jesus reads to his neighbors the prophet’s illustration of God’s compassion for humanity in our most vulnerable condition. Every person listening in that congregation undoubtedly knows of God’s concern for broken people. They take comfort in the hope that one-day, in some distant place, a Messiah will come and help fulfill God’s vision of goodness. They consider this a nice thought, albeit a completely elusive vision.

The drum of heaven then falls silent, as Jesus declares history in the making. He personally claims to be the fulfillment of the ancient prophecy and takes the helm of a movement to save all people. His resounding inaugural address introduces a radically different way of thinking and living beyond religion as usual. No longer does faith focus on a distant future, ancient past, or some ethereal concept. Jesus declares that God is right here, compassionately working in our presence.

This heavenly proclamation by Jesus is met by earthly murmurs from the crowds. God’s creatures start judging what their creator is doing, rather than align with God in this historic moment. Shewing away the hand of God, they arrest Jesus and plan to throw him off a cliff.

By recounting this event in his Gospel, Luke invites us to consider our response to the claims of Christ. Fyodor Dostoevsky offers a reaction in his brilliant novel, Brothers Karamazov. His character, Ivan, tells a hopeful tale about Jesus returning to earth to live out love for the needy during the Spanish Inquisition. A representative of the church arrests Jesus and suggests that he should have taken the deal with the devil in the desert. The Christian leader declares that the church certainly has!

Reading this tale can leave you in heart racing breathlessness. The idea of a Christ-less Church and Spirit-less Christians is horrifying. Yet it happens! Nevertheless, Jesus keeps marching on. Nothing can silence the drumbeat of his Spirit or arrest his mission for long. The Bible invites us to listen and enthusiastically embrace his movement. If we don’t, others most certainly will.

Good King Wenceslas

Good King Wenceslas provides a model of  thoughtful kindness in public life.  Although he was surrounded by political intrigue and treachery, he managed to maintain a vital Christian faith and demonstrated significant compassion toward those in need.  His life of devotion to Christ in the murky waters of the royal courts of old Bohemia (in the 10th century AD) is an inspiration, and his loving kindness memorialized in the Christmas Carol that bares his name is a fitting tribute to his spirit of openness to  Christ.

King Wenceslas is better known in the Czech Republic as Saint Václav.  Soon after his death at the hands of a conniving brother who was seeking political power, Václav  was canonized by the Roman Catholic Church.  Eight centuries later, a clergyman in the Church of England, named John Mason Neale, wrote a poem in his honor, and it was put to the music of  an old Finnish Tune. 

I’m going to try to learn this carol for Christmas.  I think it's certainly more edifying than Jingle Bells and Frosty the Snowman, which I know by heart.

Good King Wenceslas looked out

On the feast of Stephen

When the snow lay round about

Deep and crisp and even

Brightly shone the moon that night

Though the frost was cruel

When a poor man came in sight

Gath'ring winter fuel

 

"Hither, page, and stand by me

If thou know'st it, telling

Yonder peasant, who is he?

Where and what his dwelling?"

"Sire, he lives a good league hence

Underneath the mountain

Right against the forest fence

By Saint Agnes' fountain."

 

"Bring me flesh and bring me wine

Bring me pine logs hither

Thou and I will see him dine

When we bear him thither."

Page and monarch forth they went

Forth they went together

Through the rude wind's wild lament

And the bitter weather

 

"Sire, the night is darker now

And the wind blows stronger

Fails my heart, I know not how,

I can go no longer."

"Mark my footsteps, my good page

Tread thou in them boldly

Thou shalt find the winter's rage

Freeze thy blood less coldly."

 

In his master's steps he trod

Where the snow lay dinted

Heat was in the very sod

Which the Saint had printed

Therefore, Christian men, be sure

Wealth or rank possessing

Ye who now will bless the poor

Shall yourselves find blessing 

Offering our Gifts for the Life of the World

I recently read on Patheos.com about Broadway Methodist Church in Indianapolis limiting their church programs and focusing instead on listening intently to the needs of the community and linking their church members to established community services as engaged friends where they can use their gifts to share God's love.  This concept is worth discussing among church leaders who desire more than a parochially oriented finger print on the character of their community and who instead want widespread impact.  This video takes less that two minutes to share the theology behind this thinking . 

Thoughts on Simplicity

The Christian scripture contain strong admonitions to care for the needs of the poor. Back in college I read Ron Sider’s Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger.  It was a study of the biblical passages on poverty, oppression and injustice.  My guilt was stirred.  I didn’t adjust my lifestyle much, but I thought about it.

Then in my first year out of college I decided with several friends to participate in a book study.  We read Freedom of Simplicity by Richard Foster.  Following our discussions of this book, I dedicated myself to a life of simplicity.  I made a commitment to tithe my income, to drive a very basic vehicle, to dress simply, and to avoid extravagant dining and entertainment.  This was easy to do.  I had no money at the time.  Shopping at Goodwill was a necessity.  Giving away 10% of nothing was nothing. 

Even as I advanced in my career, my wife and I stayed committed to simple living.  We had no TV and very few meals-out.  We did not get a television set until my oldest son was 10.  Major League Baseball made the difference.  We did not feel comfortable imposing on friends to each night to watch their television for seven days of the World Series. I couldn’t take my little kids to sports bar.

Now that we have no children in the home, my wife and I are back to no TV, but I must admit that it's hardly simple living.  We get everything we want to watch on the computer.  The other night while I was watching a comedy show on You Tube, programmed from an app on my iPhone, I wondered once again about my commitment to simplicity. 

I don’t have the same level of guilt that I once had about my advantages as an American, but I am deeply aware of the vast differences between the “have’s” and the “have not’s,” and I am passionately concerned about how we can support the elevation of standards for those living in poverty. 

Many Christians take 40 days near the start of the year to recommit to simplicity and to actively participate in acts of charity.  If more of us did this, and allowed our spiritual insights and emerging healthy habits to shape our lives, I think it could make a world of difference.