Friday, June 26, 2009

Catching Up

Wow! If there are any readers, I apologize for not blogging in a while. Things are moving in some different, yet positive ways in life. The month of June has been particularly illuminating.

To start, I was challenged by some friends at the beginning of the month to get involved in God's word on a more intentional basis. I began Psalm 119. It has always fascinated me. As I studied through the Psalm, I picked up a book I had purchased a few years back entitled, Dietrich Bonhoeffer's Meditation on Psalms. The passage I read in Bonhoeffer's book was Psalm 119:17-24. Here are the verses:

Do good to your servant, and I will live;
I will obey your word.
18 Open my eyes that I may see
wonderful things in your law.
19 I am a stranger on earth;
do not hide your commands from me.
20 My soul is consumed with longing
for your laws at all times.
21 You rebuke the arrogant, who are cursed
and who stray from your commands.
22 Remove from me scorn and contempt,
for I keep your statutes.
23 Though rulers sit together and slander me,
your servant will meditate on your decrees.
24 Your statutes are my delight;
they are my counselors.


Bonhoeffer's commentary on verse 19 struck me with both humility and confidence. It stated, "No word is said here about our true home. I know that this earth cannot be it and know that the earth is God's and that I am, even while on this earth, not only a stranger, but God's pilgrim and alien (Psalm 39:12). But, because on earth I am nothing as a stranger, without rights, without support, without security, because God himself has made me weak and poor, therefore he has given me for my goal a pledge, unfailing: his Word. This one certainty he will not take away from me. This Word will hold me to him and will let me feel his power. When the Word is familiar and close to me, I can find my way in a strange land, my justice in injustice; my security in uncertainty; my strength in work; my patience in suffering. 'Do not hide your commands from me.' That is the prayer of the pilgrim in a strange land."


There is still that emptiness in my heart because I do not depend on God's word, and, ultimately, God Himself like the Psalmist. However, I continue to be motivated to draw nearer to Him and know him well enough to have that face-to-face, eye-to-eye relationship that God desires (see Psalm 32:8). The journey is rough, but, as Jimmy Dugan said in "A League of Their Own, "It's supposed to be hard! If it wasn't hard, everyone would do it. The hard... is what makes it great!" Like baseball, this journey is never easy. And, while the effort may seem fruitless, it is joy to know that the pursuit is not in vein.


Today, as I have prepared for a church retreat this weekend, I ran into a great quote. It is from a Relevant Magazine article for the July issue. The quote stated, "Christianity is a robust culture in which anything can be asked and everything can be said. The call to worship is a call to complete candor and radical questioning." Wow! Yet, that complete candor and complete questioning calls me, as always, to lay in a raw, unedited state before the God of the universe.


There is so much more, but I don't want to bore you, dear Reader. Until next time....

Friday, June 5, 2009

Remembrance

Today marks the 41st anniversary of Senator Robert Kennedy's assassination.  Robert Francis Kennedy was shot on June 5, 1968 at the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles, California shortly after claiming victory in that state's crucial Democratic primary. He died in the early hours of June 6, 1968 at the age of 42 years old.

Here is a speech to the City Club of Cleveland, Ohio he gave on April 5, 1968 (http://www.rfkmemorial.org/lifevision/onthemindlessmenaceofviolence/):

This is a time of shame and sorrow. It is not a day for politics. I have saved this one opportunity, my only event of today, to speak briefly to you about the mindless menace of violence in America which again stains our land and every one of our lives.

It is not the concern of any one race. The victims of the violence are black and white, rich and poor, young and old, famous and unknown. They are, most important of all, human beings whom other human beings loved and needed. No one - no matter where he lives or what he does - can be certain who will suffer from some senseless act of bloodshed. And yet it goes on and on and on in this country of ours.

Why? What has violence ever accomplished? What has it ever created? No martyr's cause has ever been stilled by an assassin's bullet.

No wrongs have ever been righted by riots and civil disorders. A sniper is only a coward, not a hero; and an uncontrolled, uncontrollable mob is only the voice of madness, not the voice of reason.

Whenever any American's life is taken by another American unnecessarily - whether it is done in the name of the law or in the defiance of the law, by one man or a gang, in cold blood or in passion, in an attack of violence or in response to violence - whenever we tear at the fabric of the life which another man has painfully and clumsily woven for himself and his children, the whole nation is degraded.

"Among free men," said Abraham Lincoln, "there can be no successful appeal from the ballot to the bullet; and those who take such appeal are sure to lose their cause and pay the costs."

Yet we seemingly tolerate a rising level of violence that ignores our common humanity and our claims to civilization alike. We calmly accept newspaper reports of civilian slaughter in far-off lands. We glorify killing on movie and television screens and call it entertainment. We make it easy for men of all shades of sanity to acquire whatever weapons and ammunition they desire.

Too often we honor swagger and bluster and wielders of force; too often we excuse those who are willing to build their own lives on the shattered dreams of others. Some Americans who preach non-violence abroad fail to practice it here at home. Some who accuse others of inciting riots have by their own conduct invited them.

Some look for scapegoats, others look for conspiracies, but this much is clear: violence breeds violence, repression brings retaliation, and only a cleansing of our whole society can remove this sickness from our soul.

For there is another kind of violence, slower but just as deadly destructive as the shot or the bomb in the night. This is the violence of institutions; indifference and inaction and slow decay. This is the violence that afflicts the poor, that poisons relations between men because their skin has different colors. This is the slow destruction of a child by hunger, and schools without books and homes without heat in the winter.

This is the breaking of a man's spirit by denying him the chance to stand as a father and as a man among other men. And this too afflicts us all.

I have not come here to propose a set of specific remedies nor is there a single set. For a broad and adequate outline we know what must be done. When you teach a man to hate and fear his brother, when you teach that he is a lesser man because of his color or his beliefs or the policies he pursues, when you teach that those who differ from you threaten your freedom or your job or your family, then you also learn to confront others not as fellow citizens but as enemies, to be met not with cooperation but with conquest; to be subjugated and mastered.

We learn, at the last, to look at our brothers as aliens, men with whom we share a city, but not a community; men bound to us in common dwelling, but not in common effort. We learn to share only a common fear, only a common desire to retreat from each other, only a common impulse to meet disagreement with force. For all this, there are no final answers.

Yet we know what we must do. It is to achieve true justice among our fellow citizens. The question is not what programs we should seek to enact. The question is whether we can find in our own midst and in our own hearts that leadership of humane purpose that will recognize the terrible truths of our existence.

We must admit the vanity of our false distinctions among men and learn to find our own advancement in the search for the advancement of others. We must admit in ourselves that our own children's future cannot be built on the misfortunes of others. We must recognize that this short life can neither be ennobled or enriched by hatred or revenge.

Our lives on this planet are too short and the work to be done too great to let this spirit flourish any longer in our land. Of course we cannot vanquish it with a program, nor with a resolution.

But we can perhaps remember, if only for a time, that those who live with us are our brothers, that they share with us the same short moment of life; that they seek, as do we, nothing but the chance to live out their lives in purpose and in happiness, winning what satisfaction and fulfillment they can.

Surely, this bond of common faith, this bond of common goal, can begin to teach us something. Surely, we can learn, at least, to look at those around us as fellow men, and surely we can begin to work a little harder to bind up the wounds among us and to become in our own hearts brothers and countrymen once again.