Who Deserves My Comfort?

Whenever a tragic event happens, the question of how a loving God can permit suffering and death comes up.  Following the recent tragedy in Moore, Oklahoma, undoubtedly this question is on the minds of many.

So, what is the Christian response to horrible tragedies?  Was it God’s will that children would die in a tornado in Oklahoma?  Why didn’t God stop the Sandy Hook school massacre?  What is to be said to high school students grieving the loss of their friend through some tragic accident?  (This has been an all too common scene in my town for the last few years.)

I’m the type that wants to tie up theological loose ends with clever logic.  As an engineer, I value the simplest answers as they tend to be the most elegant and correct.  I love it when a complex math problem boils down to a simple solution.  I’ve wrestled with these questions, occasionally thinking I had found an elegant solution to this problem of evil.  I know I’ve at some point expressed one of these ‘solutions’ to a grieving friend.  If you were the recipient of this from me (or some other well meaning theologian), let me say to you now, “I’m sorry.”

Truth is, there are no elegant or clever answers.  The most concrete statement we have is “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”  Of course this comes from the Beatitudes where Jesus is telling us who is going to be the most at home in the Kingdom.  The best aid we can provide is to mourn alongside those affected by tragedy.  When we attempt to explain, we run the risk of being the kinds of friends Job of the Old Testament had when faced with terrible trials and tragedy.

So, I’m guessing you are with me so far.  Perhaps I’ve provided a good reminder, but I imagine I haven’t rattled your cage yet.  Let’s take this a step further then.

We’ve been looking at this in cases of clearly undeserved loss.  Clearly nobody (other than a few radicals) would claim that the victims of a tornado in Oklahoma or a school shooting in Connecticut were deserving of the tragedies that beset them.  But what about the drug addict whose addiction broke up his family?  What about the broker who slid too far down the slippery slope of corruption and lost everything?  Are we to mourn with these in their loss as well?  Are we to provide comfort to these people?

We really have two ways to interpret Jesus’ beatitude.  Either we can read it as “Blessed are those who mourn for any reason” or as “Blessed are those who mourn for situations which they did not bring upon themselves.”  If we take the first interpretation, we have no right to pick and choose whom we should comfort.  If we take the second interpretation, we ultimately can bow out of providing comfort to any sufferer, acknowledging that “all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God,” and thus justly receiving their penalty.  We even might take it to the next level of picketing funerals just to make sure these mourning receive no comfort.

I submit that the correct interpretation is the first, the one which we are called to comfort those mourning for any reason.  In Les Miserables, I think Jean Valjean’s comforting of Fantine after her desperate turn to prostitution is much more beautiful and Christ-like than Javert’s advice, “Honest work, just reward, that’s the way to please the Lord.”

The problem of evil, or Theodicy, is certainly a complex topic.  It’s certainly a noble task to work to untangle it.  Great headway in this endeavor can seemingly be achieved in well informed discussions.  I completely support having those discussions.  You may even catch me engaging in a Theodicy discussion on occasion.  However, when it comes to application, comfort without judgment is always the right answer.  Oh, and try not to explain your Theodicy theories to the mourning.  If this actually helped, Jesus would instead have said, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall have explained to them the reason.”

I doubt many have found me particularly comforting in their times of mourning.  Lord, help me to be comfort to those who mourn.

Is it difficult for you to provide comfort, without regard of whether the suffering is somehow ‘deserved?’  How have you grown in compassion for the mourning?

Two Friends

I have two friends who I know from various church settings I’ve shared with them.  Although they are not close friends, I do value my friendships with them.  I’m sure you have similar friends and acquaintances.  I have nothing against either of them; I just don’t often find myself engaging in the same activities that these friends do.  I guess they just happen to each run in slightly different circles than do I.

Don’t get me wrong, I would not hesitate sharing a meal with either of these friends.  On the occasions I have spent time with them, I have enjoyed their company.  I certainly count each as a valued brother or sister in Christ.  What I wouldn’t do is invite them both to dinner the same night.  You see, one of these friends is a passionate Democrat who is pro-choice and supporter of LBGT rights.  My other friend is a passionate Republican who is pro-life and very much against extending marriage rights to same sex couples.  Politically, these two friends are polar opposites.  I’m afraid steak knives may be required to cut through the dinner conversation tension.

In my first blog post, I discussed that my hope is not in politics.  One reason for this is how unclear Christ’s stance often is on particular policies, especially in the context of a secular government which rules over people of various religions and opinions.  Both of these friends are very outspoken about their respective positions and believe with absolute conviction their conclusions accurately reflect the Christian response to these issues.  Each of them seems to believe the ‘other’ side is the political enemy holding our nation back from reaching its potential.  They (unknowingly) have declared the other their political enemy.  I’m confident each of them has prayed that God would shape the nation’s political climate in favor of his or her positions.  I’m confident each of them believes God is on their side.

So, when my friends read David’s praise in Psalm 23, “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies,” what should they think?  Is God preparing a table before one of these friends in the presence of the other to show His favor on the one and in doing so mock and humiliate the other?

Another famous table in scripture is the Last Supper.  We see in this story Jesus sharing a table with His disciples.  One of these disciples was Matthew the tax collector.  Matthew had colluded with the occupying Roman government to collect taxes from his fellow Jews and send this treasure to Rome.  Don’t think of Matthew as an IRS agent.  It is closer to think of him as a colonial American working for British officers to collect taxes to send back to Europe.  Another of these disciples was Simon the Zealot.  Simon was the revolutionary.  If Matthew was a traitor working for the British in colonial times, Simon was a minuteman.  (I know this is not a full analogy, but it’s the best I have.)  It’s fair to say Matthew and Simon wouldn’t have seen eye to eye.

It’s clear that Jesus didn’t agree with either Matthew or Simon.  Jesus had a new way.  He prepared a table before each of them in the presence of their enemies, not to elevate one over another, but to join them together in His new way.

I don’t think David had any idea of the Eucharist table when he penned Psalm 23.  I do think as we read the Psalms in light of Christ, this is exactly the table that should come to our minds when we read these words.

The reason God prepares a table for us in the presence of our enemies is so we can invite them to sit with us and share a meal.  I’d be nervous to invite my two friends to the same table, but this is exactly the invitation God is extending to them—to us.  What must you and I change in ourselves to make this our response when in the presence of our political enemies?

Our Daily Bread

“Give us this day our daily bread.” (Matthew 6:11)  We all know this line from the Lord’s Prayer.  I’ve always just taken it as a request that our Father provide for our needs.  I’ve been thinking recently about what this really means.

My wife had given me a copy of Every Good Endeavor by Tim Keller.  (Excellent book, which I highly recommend.)  I recently finished it and have been pondering on morsels from it since.  During one of my prayer times, I found myself reflecting on Tim’s ideas while praying through the Lord’s Prayer.  Through working on connecting Tim’s ideas with this line of Jesus’ prayer, I think I’ve uncovered something I’ve been missing.

Tim tells the story of Creation by showing us how God created the world and then empowers mankind to finish the details.  God does this by setting us in a garden and charging us to create a great city.  This requires work.  Tim explains how every task that is necessary and beneficial to a flourishing society is following in the mission that God has for mankind.  When we work at these tasks, we labor with God.  When we enjoy the fruits of these tasks, we owe thanks to God and fellow man.

Why would Jesus ask us to pray for our daily bread?  Yes, Jesus did provide bread to the 5,000 and manna did fall from the sky, but these are obviously rare occurrences.  There’s a lot of human labor that goes into making bread, and none of it seems overtly spiritual.  If Jesus was interested in directing us toward more primary sources of His provision, I’m sure He could have thought of something else to reference…perhaps sunlight, rain, air, gravity, the strong nuclear force, etc.  I think instead Jesus uses bread specifically because of all the human labor that goes into it.

You can’t have bread without a farmer planting a seed and caring for the fields before finally harvesting and delivering the grain to town.  Of course, this grain must also pass through a flour mill, a bakery, a distributor, and grocery store before finally landing on my plate.  This doesn’t mention the buildings, the equipment, and the transportation to allow for all this.  I’m sure you can think of many details I’m leaving out.  Every step requires human work and attention.

My job requires that I travel on occasion.  Just a week or so ago, I woke up in a city far away from home.  It was my last day of a long startup and I was ready to be home, ready to see my wife, and ready to sleep in my own bed.  I finished up at the plant, was driven to the airport by a coworker, went through security, got on a plane, landed, and found myself on a bus headed toward the parking lot.  I hadn’t given much thought to how all the folks doing their various jobs enabled that journey home for me.  I realized I had taken it for granted that this lady (or someone in her role) would drive by the terminal to pick me up and take me to my vehicle.  Her task is one that is necessary in a flourishing society.  I would assume she probably wasn’t reflecting on how she was being the hands of God steering that bus, but her task was a blessing to me that day.  Just on this journey home, God’s hands were at work for me in the form of a bus driver, a pilot, an airplane mechanic, and the guy at Jimmy Johns who baked bread that morning.

When I pray this line of the Lord’s Prayer, I now reflect on how I’m asking God to work through all the people who help build a thriving society.  I sometimes thank God for placing people in roles that particularly benefit me, perhaps it’s the guy that picks up my trash or the farmer who sows a seed, maybe it’s the crew repairing a road or the grocer who cuts my meat.  I think this is shaping me to more deeply appreciate those whom I share society with…helping me appreciate my neighbor.

“Give us this day our daily bread.”  It’s a bigger request than I had realized.  What do you see in it?