Musings on faith and life from an Alaska Lutheran pastor.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Suffering, if one dares to speak of it

I'm slightly shocked to find myself writing, blogging and musing on the texts for this coming Sunday...especially since it's only Tuesday. Truly, I'm more of a write-the-sermon-during-Garrison-Keillor kind of girl, but somehow this week I'm early.

And, as is the case lately, another tough, challenging passage from Mark (10:35-45) that reminds me that, like those early disciples, sometimes I just don't get it.

Or maybe I DO get it and that's the hard part. The last few weeks have included heart-warming texts like "poke out your eye if it causes you to sin" and "sell all you have, give the money to the poor" and don't forget "those who would be great must be servant of all." Let me tell you, this stuff does not sell.

This week's text from Mark is the one where James and John argue, with no little irony, about who would sit at Jesus' right and left hand in his glory. I guess they missed the point that Jesus glory was his cross and those spots ended up in the hands of thieves. It reminds me of a joke I heard where a sick priest in DC asked to see two prominent politicians on his death bed (insert politicians of your choice here). When they arrive and held his hands, one asked why those two were summoned. The priest responded he wanted to emulate his Lord Jesus Christ in every way, even dying between two lying theives.

Anyway, turns out what I'm really thinking about isn't theives or the cross or even the Mark text. I'm actually thinking about the Hebrews reading for this week, Hebrews 5:1-10.

This is the one about Jesus being a super-great high priest, even better than Melchizdek (whoever he was) and that Jesus, as high priest, suffered and became our eternal salvation.

Verse 8 has caught my attenion: "Although he was a Son, he learned obedience through what he suffered."

A Bible commentator I read somewhere said there's a Greek word play here that's lost in translation. Learned is "emathen" and suffered is "epathen" and in the Greek they're closer together in the sentence.

It made me wonder what is learned through suffering. For Jesus, obedience, but what of us? We may learn submission to God, but I'd suggest we also learn. A lot. And then our suffering becomes available for empathy (from epathen), literally, "suffer with." I've noticed I'm often better suited to accompany a hurting person if I've actually been through a similar situation.

What do we learn from suffering?

Is all suffering redemptive?

If not, is it just pointless, empty, meaningless pain? (And why would God permit that anyway?)

And, to carry it further, do those who live as middle class residents of this country even understand what it means to suffer? Suffering is not a plunge in your 401 (k) or noticing that your cable TV line has gone out.

Well, this might be beyond the scope of this post. Others have written volumes on these sorts of theodicy questions.

And I'm still working on my sermon.

So for now, I'll note that at least Jesus' suffering was redemptive. He did learn something. Maybe it was obedience (another loaded word in our time) or maybe it was about the freedom that comes when there's no where else to turn and we are welcomed into the arms of mystery.

Thursday, October 08, 2009

Diplomacy

I heard a public radio story about Madeleine Albright, former SU Secretary of State, the other day. NPR fans may have heard it, too. The inteview highlighted her new book, Read My Pins and discussed how Albright used pins to suggest her mood or make small talk with foreign diplomats.

Though the stories of pins were interesting, there were two other comments that struck me most.

Albright said that a US president, in foreign relations, must be confident, not certain. Now, to be fair, she was comparing the past US president to the current officeholder. Regardless of your poliitical persuasion, the contrast between confidence and certainty is interesting.

I'd like to use her contrast to think about faith or even the role of a disciple of Christ. I think it does take a certain amount of confidence to be a follower of Jesus in a world (and state like Alaska) that is pretty foreign -- and skeptical -- of religion. Confidence works, certainty tanks. It's too arrogant, doesn't make way for doubt and leaves others behind.

So I'm considering how to live as a confident follower of Jesus, not a certain one.

Albright's second point perhaps needs no explanation. She was discussin relgion and said it's like a knife. You can use it to stab someone in the back or use it to cut bread.

The choice, of course, is yours.