A visceral look at the chasm between justice and love of neighbor . . .

     Psalm 137 is considered by many commentators to be the single, most difficult example of hate in the Bible.  The idea of bashing a baby against a rock is rightfully repulsive to those who read the Scriptures.  And while the verses specified might pose a horrific image, it is by no means the only verse in Scripture which ought to make us uncomfortable.  The question, of course, is what to make of such passages.  Are they simply cathartic, meaning that the psalmist is blowing off steam and does not really want the events to occur?  Are they simply beneath Christian understanding and ought to be ignored or skipped?

     Simply put, Psalm 137 is a psalm of imprecation.  That is a way of saying that the psalmist wants to see punishment meted out upon those who have worked evil on Israel.  In this case, the psalmist is speaking of the period around the Exile, when Babylon carried Israel off into slavery.  Presumably, Israel experienced the very evil being described upon its tormentors.  One can certainly how the atrocities of war stick in the cultural mind of those conquered.  In Israel’s case, the defeat was even more bitter.  Israel knew they had been chosen by God.  All that was required was they they love the Lord and do as He instructed.  Their turning away from Him and His ways had led to the unimaginable, the conquering of His chosen people.  The psalm recounts the mockery that Israel faced at the hands of their conquerers as well as what you and I would call war crimes.  Part of what makes this psalm terrible to read and, yet, disgusts us at the same time, is the struggle we have between loving our enemies and hating sin.

     If mothers had been forced to experience the act describe by the psalmist, one can well imagine their visceral need to see the act returned on the mothers of Babylon.  I suffered this, so must you!  Of course, such a need can lead to a spiral in which each side is always committing atrocities on the other, all in the name of justice.  What can be done?  And how should we understand the psalm?

     First, the psalm ought to comfort us in the sense that we can approach the throne of God with raw emotions.  If we suffer evil, it is acceptable to God that we approach His throne full of a desire for vengeance.  How do we know?  He gave us the psalm.  If Scripture is God-breathed, as the Church maintains, and if all Scripture is useful for us, it seems a small leap to conclude that God wanted us to understand that He understands our emotional responses.  In fact, He understands our emotional responses far better than we.  As human beings, we might be tempted to hide such thoughts.  We might be able to hide them from our fellow human beings; we cannot, however, hide the thoughts of our hearts from God, who sees and knows all things.  It should be an amazing comfort to us to know that we can approach God with the emotional rawness of a tragedy in our lives and not be rejected for expressing that rawness.  Whether we are dealing with a national tragedy such as 9-11 or the personal tragedies of disease or failed relationship or job loss, we can approach God confidently in our anger and our hurt.

     Of course, the psalm also needs to be read in the context of the whole psalter and the rest of Scripture.  God accepts that we are viscerally wounded by tragedies and does not condemn us for our emotional outbursts; yet He also reminds us throughout the entirety of Scripture that vengeance is His.  As much as you and I might like to think we understand justice, we are woefully ill equipped to enforce it.  We lack understanding and we lack power.  God, of course, lacks neither.  Israel’s Exile was a just act.  God has offered them a reward if they kept His commandments and a punishment if they deserted Him.  He would not be much of a God were He to fail to keep His promises.  As much as the psalmist is angry at Babylon for mocking Israel in her defeat, he should be mad at his or her countrymen for bringing this experience upon them.    Put differently, Babylon was simply an instrument of God’s justice, and it fulfilled His prophesy.

     In the same vein, how do we serve justice in the names of those killed in 9-11?  Invade a country?  Nuke it?  What of the recent use of chemical weapons on civilians in Syria.  What action will serve justice and deter other leaders from using such horrible weapons?  Was our job loss due to economic forces?  Corporate greed?  A dying industry?  How do we know?  That is why, for the psalmist and the Christian alike, we must trust that God will, one day, judge.  Otherwise, we are left with the likelihood that someone who deserves justice will fail to see it realized.

     Did God want babies killed?  Of course not!  In the execution of His judgment, some in the Babylonian army committed horrible injustices against His people.  And this is, naturally, where Christ stands athwart the seeming unbridgeable chasm that exists between injustice and loving our enemies.  Ultimately, Christ stands as the hope for justice (He who knew no sin became sin) and the inspiration for loving our enemies (forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do).  Just as Abraham’s descendants were called to be a blessing to the Gentiles, you and I are called to be a blessing to our enemies.  Part of the way that we do that is by trusting that God will repay evil for evil (and good for good).  In the meantime, it is our job to try and love even our enemies into the Kingdom.  if our enemies accept Christ as Lord, then He bore the punishment for their evils on the Cross, just as He bore our punishments for us.  Our sense of justice must then be satisfied, as much as we might not want it to be.

     What, if in the end, they reject our efforts?  What if, in the end, those who commit evil  seem to go unpunished?  If an enemy ultimate rejects God, then the threat of punishment still looms for them.  As we well understand, death is no barrier to God.  Vengeance is His, and He will repay evil for evil.  At some point, those who reject God will face the consequence of their decision.  Our job, our callings, is to remind as many as possible of His love for them and of the life which was poured out for them, and to trust that He will, yet once again, keep His promise.  And, who knows, maybe in serving our enemies we will get to know and understand them, and their motivations, hurts, and fears better, making us even more effective heralds of His grace in their lives!

Peace,

Brian†

The birdhouse Gospel . . .

      His name is Jamie Brown.  He runs the Thurgood Marshall Learning Center over in Rock Island, IL.  I met Jamie at the Farmers’ Market at the Freight House a few weeks ago.  In truth, the timing had to be of God, as I later reflected.  As I was in the midst of getting to hear a new round of survivor stories and some police reflections regarding a federal sting against slavers around the country, Jamie boldly introduced himself.  Like any vendor, he was a salesman.  But he noticed my cross and asked me about it.  I shared the story of how I came to possess Frank’s cross, and he certainly listened intently.  When I asked why he had asked, he told me he was a Christian and likes to talk to other Christians just to remind himself that we are out there.  We chuckled a bit and commiserated about the invisibility of many Christians.  I told him I would love to buy a birdhouse, but I had no money for the birds.  Plus, there was an appalling lack of Steeler birdhouses!  But I asked him about his business.  It turns out it was his ministry.

     Jamie began to notice that some kids in his school were falling through the cracks.  Their home lives, their lack of focus, and to a lesser degree, the attitudes of some in the administration or staffs, made it likely that certain boys would find their way into gangs or drugs or other dead ends.  As a custodian, it dawned on him that he could do something small to make a difference.  So, he went to his school administration and asked for permission to open the old wood shop classroom after school.  Reflecting later, I assume that shop is no longer offered, as are so many home economic classes, but that the school still had the equipment.  In only what could be described a God thing, the administration consented.  I say it is a God thing because of all the risk they took.  Problem kids and power tools, all supervised by a custodian, are not the best combination in the eyes of most school officials.  But Jamie’s bosses took a chance.

     Jamie began inviting some of those boys and young men whom he felt were at risk of falling through the cracks or dropping out to stay after school and learn to work with wood.  Surprisingly a number of kids thought it “cool.”  As word leaked out among the kids, the program grew.  More and more began to stay.  Jamie’s shop class became a club of sort.  Mostly young men and boys would stay after school for about ninety minutes making all kinds of art with wood.  The problem, of course, is that wood costs money.  The more kids that joined, the more wood he needed.  The more wood he needed, the more money it cost school administrators.  Eventually, the wood shop got too big.  It needed to end of no one could be found to provide wood.  That’s when the enterprising side of Jamie came to the fore.

     One of the first “big projects” that Jamie had his students work on was a bird house.  It is a deceptively challenging project.  A floor, four walls, and two pieces for the roof have to be fit together.  The house required that wood be cut at different angles and fitted together.  A hole for the birds had to be cut out for the entrance.  And the whole thing needed to be sanded.  It was a great project and took his new students some time.  Jamie, though, wondered of they might be able to sell them.  He had the idea to paint them in team colors with sports logos.  Certainly, he thought, black & yellow and blue & orange would sell well.

     Thus began a new business at the Farmers’ Market.  You can meet Jamie there most Saturdays inside the freight house.  His tables are full of birdhouses painted with all kinds of logos and in a wide array of colors.  College teams, professional teams, and even local high school teams were available on the table.  He makes enough off the sale of the houses to keep his youth group in wood.  Be careful, though.  He is a shrewd businessman.  After our first discussion, I arrived the next week to find he had four Steeler birdhouses on his table.  He even told me he had painted them just for me.  I laughed and reminded him I was still on clergy income.  He laughed and said I didn’t need to buy all, just one.

     I said above that my meeting Jamie and hearing about his ministry was divinely ordered.  We met at the end of a tough week for me.  As the federal raid had gone down, I had heard a few too many horrible stories of enslavement.  As one trusted adviser had called it, I had taken in some serious spiritual poison.  Jamie’s tale was a sweet tasting antidote.  I thanked Jamie for his wonderful ministry.  He gave me the “aww, shucks, this isn’t a ministry” response.  From his perspective, pastors do ministry as work.  He enjoyed what he was doing, so he couldn’t be a pastor.  Given my week, I knew what he meant.  Besides, he’d always liked working with wood, and he liked passing on his knowledge about it with any kids who would listen.  I reminded him that other conversations probably occur in shop class.  The wood working was just the conversation starter; the real ministry was likely in those other conversations that were held once those boys figured out he really cared for them.  He wasn’t sure, but I reminded him that we both knew this other Carpenter who would probably agree with my assessment.  He laughed a great belly laugh and gave me a good hug.

     This year, the Thursday morning Bible Study group decided to tackle Holy Men and Holy Women as a break from their routine of reading the following Sunday’s lectionary.  It has been a real blessing to them as they have gotten to hear the stories of “normal men and normal women” who made a difference in lives of others through ministries of God.  I can’t help but think of St. Jamie in those terms, and I am sure that there are some young adults out there who would agree with my discernment.  Jamie has taken forgotten equipment, trained some boys who are at risk of falling through the cracks, and built up a small business that keeps the entire effort funded.  He starts out with rough pieces of wood that end up as pretty cool pieces of art that sports fans can proudly display.  Similarly, he takes some rough young men, and a few girls that are interested, and helps teach them about wood working, about life and, most importantly, about God’s incredible love for each one of them.  If that is not a ministry of God in our midst, I don’t know what is.  God bless all the Jamie’s in our midst and give us grace to see their work with our eyes!

     If you find yourself in the Freight House in the coming weeks in Davenport, and you notice a table with a bunch of birdhouses on it, make sure to say hello to Jamie.  Thank him for his work.  Be careful though, you might walk away inspired, if a little weighed down by a couple new birdhouses!

Peace,

Brian†