On Becoming Fragile, Freedom, and Faith Under Pressure

I sent an email out to a few friends last week, updating them on the truly dreadful and life-changing situation that me and my family are going through. My email contained optimism, about how God is faithful even though things hit a big snag last week.  Well it didn’t take more than a few hours for my mood to change from hopeful to all-out fury. I’m Jeckyll and Hyde lately.

Gore Vidal once said he writes to get his anger out. I’m going to give that a try.

I am not writing the following because it is good but rather because it is honest, and I hope in some weird way that my attempt at transparency in the midst of a struggle is an encouragement.

Faith is taking the first step even when you don’t see the whole staircase. -Martin Luther King, Jr.

I included that in my Quotes From History post last week, and totally missed a large chunk of the meaning. I thought it was a refreshing way to look at the step of faith as taken for the very first time (and it is), but I missed that it also works as a challenge to those of us who continue to practice and learn faith as we follow God. Faith doesn’t become easy, not even after you’ve demonstrated it a few times, because there is always a new challenge and a first step of faith that must follow.  Right now, I can’t see the whole staircase in this crisis, and I’m nervous about what life will look like if I lose after pursuing what’s right.

My faith has become fragile in this time. I am not doubting the existence of God or even the explicit promises of Jesus, but the truth is I’m frustrated by the tension between God’s thirst for goodness and restoration on Earth, and the fact that he bestows freewill on reckless mankind. Let me explain. As you know and have observed, many people are busy trying to gather the world for themselves and often without regard for who they hurt along the way. It’s the result of true freedom, a freedom that God has extended to us all, even though we’ve all abused it. At times, it’s difficult not to feel like God is napping on the couch while some get away with murder. In this struggle, I’ve prayed that God would convict the hearts and minds of those at fault, so that the present course of action would change. But I wonder how effective that effort can be when people will accept nothing other than their selfish dreams and are willing to harm the helpless within their grasp in the pursuit of it.  Right now, that is happening despite my prayers and aggressive actions. It’s not uplifting, but I feel as though God heard my prayers for justice, and answered “no.”

Who knows. Maybe I need to be fragile for awhile. Maybe I’ve forgotten that God is God, or at the very least, forgot it in my gut while retaining the principle in my head. Maybe this is the time when I do everything in my power to fix a mess, and when it comes to the unknowable variables or the potential outcomes, just lean on God.  That’s never been easy for a do-it-yourself guy like me.

It’s ironic, because as my friends know too well, I am always barking about liberty and the risks that accompany freedom and that both are better than safety or predictability, and yet here I am wanting the opposite. I want God to revoke freedom for certain individuals whose actions threaten the best interest of people that matter the most to me. I want fire and revelation to reign down from the heavens and physically impede what’s going on, because freedom for someone else is likely to cost me and others greatly. And that doesn’t make me the most consistent person lately. Nothing is more irritating than going through a crisis and being shown in the midst of it that your worldview and wishes are contradicting each other.

Human progress is neither automatic nor inevitable… Every step toward the goal of justice requires sacrifice, suffering, and struggle; the tireless exertions and passionate concern of dedicated individuals. -Martin Luther King, Jr.

I agree with that quote, but the thought of it right now makes me really angry. After years of struggle in this situation, my motivation is starting to suffer. I feel like my efforts in this matter and certain other areas of life are amounting to a big zero (with some sour pie thrown in my face just for good measure). Can’t I just talk real good about faith and not participate in the more daring parts?

There’s a scene in the film adaptation of Les Miserables where Jean Valjean breaks into a house, and gets caught in the act of stealing. Instead of punishment the homeowner gives to him all that he had started to take, and fills his bags full of other valuable items before sending him off without handing him over to the police. Jean Valjean is never the same; this grace changes him. That kind of grace- where you look your enemy right in the eyes and then give more than they asked of you: it’s the strongest demonstration of Jesus’ teaching that we go twice as far with people who only ask a mile of us, and that we love our enemies. I have always wondered if I’d ever get the chance to demonstrate love like that scene in Les Miserables, but doubted the likelihood because in this country, we don’t name our enemies and our rights and relationships are rarely attacked in a personal manner. I have always admired Jesus for saying and showing that kind of radical love, but am I willing to live it if it comes to that? Do I really have to? Because I don’t want to right now, that’s for damn sure. But I can’t seem to escape the fact that Jesus did exactly that and more for us. How can I claim to love and follow him if my life is a series of fences that I’ve built as protection from having to do what’s difficult and good for others?

Christians tend to write things that end on a positive note (I do this too). It seems phony to me. I feel the same way about church services that end with a rip-roaring happy song EVERY Sunday. Can’t followers of Christ be a bit more willing to acknowledge that life can be very very difficult and that there are times when all the usual responses are ineffective and actually inappropriate? Can’t we just marinate in the reality of this broken world a bit more when it arrives on our doorstep? I don’t trust the automatic optimists.  Christianity is becoming a drive-through window. Get in quickly, select your craving and move out before you break a sweat. “Just give me what I want, make me smile and don’t slow me down or hassle me too much.” How about this instead: yes to hope in Jesus the Christ. Yes to the clarity and companionship that God and His word have to offer. But yes to recognizing our own humanity as well.

I don’t want pity for saying the following, and I’m not using hyperbole to color this story. I say it because it’s important to remember that becoming totally disoriented by developments in life does not make us cavemen. My life has been turned upside down. My wife, with all of her amazing character and selflessness, is struggling alongside of me as we try to address and beat back this assault that has come at us. I don’t know where I belong. I have no clear idea what God is up to, but I have some suspicions and I’m not enjoying them. Right now, that is the most honest thing I have to say.