The Struggle With Impressing

I am working my way through August, September and into October with my sermon planning. It's become one of those little nuances that come with the position and with my personality type. If I don't plan out for the next three months what passages I am going to preach on I will end up selecting my favorites and avoiding difficult passages to that force me and my congregation to wrestle with God's call in our lives.

Another nuance that I have discovered I have or am admitting too is one of ego. I'm not shy about my ego. You can ask my friends and they will tell you that I am comfortable enough in my own self to be honest when I do something I try to do it well not only because people deserve my best but also because it satisfy my ego. It makes me feel good. It makes me feel important. It also drives me crazy.

During my preparation for Sunday I find myself wrestling with this ego. I try so hard to peer deeply into the scriptures and study as I must and respond with what I believe them to be saying. I think that's something you'd want in a pastor/preacher/minister: Someone who prepares and takes time during the week to be faithful to the scripture passage and not get up and hum and haw around for an hour without making a point. But the struggle comes in the writing and organizing of thoughts.

I have found myself of late wrestling with what I am writing and with how people might respond. There are two groups of people who are responding: my congregation & my friends. I find myself in the midst of my sermonizing trying to get my friends to say something good about my sermons. I struggle with this desire to be considered a brilliant mind and a brilliant theologian. That struggle sometimes leads me to doubt what is being written or what is being said. It's not a new struggle. I've been struggling with it since seminary. Each time I would preach at chapel I struggled with trying to be true to myself and to my interpretation with trying to impress the professors or my colleagues. It's an honest struggle I think ministers all go through.

We struggle to impress and to be noticed while struggling to be true to who we are and who God is creating us to be. We get caught up the emotions of being thought of as smart, brilliant, a head of our time, or just some sort of positive recognition that we sometimes lose track of our circle. We go out of our circle (for what I'm referring to: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-mcUPY0RMdU) to get approval from those who are not a part of our immediate circle and by doing so we sometimes lose our focus.

It might be hard for someone to read that a pastor struggles with impressing others. The quick response would be, "You only have to impress/honor God." But it misses the point, the question, the reflection. True, God is the only one I have to honor but even seeking to please God or receive some praise from God is a search for praise. The person giving it only changes.

So I sit in my office with my bible open and my blank word document waiting for words to appear. As I start typing, as I start reflecting I will start struggling with how certain people will respond. I take comfort in knowing that I am not alone or the only one. I take comfort in knowing that I have done my best and that's all I can do.

Impressed or not, come Sunday I will preach again.

These Things Are Too Wonderful

For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth takes its name. I pray that, according to the riches of his glory, he may grant that you may be strengthened in your inner being with power through his Spirit, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in love. I pray that you may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. Now to him by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, for ever and ever. Amen. Ephesians 3:14-21

As a Christian and a pastor I often find myself involved in or dragged into some pretty deep theological conversations. A majority of the time I enjoy them. I appreciate the back and forth and deep conversation. There are times I do not. Those times are the times when the conversation distracts me from my important to-do list or the argument gets redundant and I just don't have the time or the patience to get into all that with someone.

This past Monday a person informed me, in general conversation, that they were not sure they believed in God. They grew up in church and liked what church gave them, a false identity where they could pretend everything was good and they could hide the bad stuff in their life. Eventually the bad stuff catches up and we discover this false image of God we've created does not hold up. This false image is one that argues, “Give your life to Christ and all your problems will go away.” It's a false image we've all signed on for at one time or another. We've been taught to believe that if you are a Christian, a real Christian then everything works out for you. You won't have any problems and you will get your wishes fulfilled. We ignore the dirtiness of the scriptures and cut verses out to the say that if just follow God everything is going to be great. We know this to be a false image of God because we know it's not true. We know life produces bad as well as good. Just because you are a faithful follower of Christ doesn't mean your crops won't suffer any less than your neighbors during a drought.

This image leads some to a fork in their spiritual journey. It's dark and lonely where these two roads diverge: One road is led by faith, the other is led by certainty. Most Christians, when prodded, will happily debate the true existence of their God. Those arguing otherwise are readily as happy to debate against them. The most common argument against God's existence is this: If there was a God, and God was supposed to be all loving, then why do bad things happen to good people? Why are children beaten or starving? Why is the world in utter chaos? If God is real then that is not a God I wish to believe in.”

I have friends who suggest the best response to that question is: “I don't believe in that god either.” They would argue that the God of the Bible and of Jesus is not like the one the person described. But what do you do when scriptures suggest that person is right? What do you do when you are facing that fork in your spiritual journey? What if the comfort of heaven or the fear of hell are not strong enough motives for you stay on the road you're on? What if what you really crave or desire is certainty?

Such a desire is a natural one for all people, including Christians. We've molded faith into a religion based on certainty; based on being able to prove God's existence or prove we are correct in our theology. We all desire certainty but our certainty will fail us one day because our God is not a God who can be fully known or understood. Our questions will remain unanswered even when God returns. Faith allows us to live in that uncertainty but it does make us uncomfortable.

The reality of the scriptures is a reality that is painted by characters and stories of people who wrestled with God intensely. They wrestled with God's existence and God's activity in their world. They wrestled with their role in the story and they wrestled deeply with what it means to be a people of God. The question proposed earlier, “If God is real then why do bad things happen” is a question that people of faith have been wrestling with for ages.

It's been thought that the Book of Job is the oldest Old Testament book, one of the first to be written. In the book we find a righteous man, Job, being used as a pawn in a game of chess between the Satan and God. The Satan bets God that when tested, when all hell is unleashed, Job will turn his back on God. In the darkest times, the Satan thinks, humanity will turn and curse God. God disagrees and allows the Satan to torment Job however he wishes as long the Satan doesn't take Job's life.

One day Job receives the news: Sabeans raided the farmland of the eldest son killing all the farmhands and stealing all the animals. Upon that news, Job is told of a fire that fell from heaven and burned up all his sheep and his shepherds. Upon that news Job is told of Chaldean raiders who have stolen his camels and killed his servants. While receiving the news of the fire and two raids Job is told of a powerful whirlwind that swept up in the desert and hit the house of his oldest son's home killing all but the messenger. One bad report after another is given to Job. Job tears his robe in grief, shaves his head and fell to the ground saying: “I came naked from my mother's womb and I will be stripped of everything when I die. The Lord gave me everything I had, and the Lord has taken it away. Praise the name of the Lord!”

One day, sometime after the chaotic events, the Satan appears before God. God shows off Job saying, “Have you considered my servant Job? He maintains his integrity even after you persuaded me cause him harm without cause.” “He blesses you only because you bless him. A man will give up everything he has to save his life. But take away his health, and he will surely curse you to your face!” God then allows the Satan to do his worst to Job, as long as his spares his life. So the Satan left the presence of God and struck Job with a terrible case of boils from head to foot. Job's wife insisted that he curse God and die. But Job replies, “Should we only accept the good from the hand of God but not the bad?”

The next few chapters of the book, Job is questioned and accused of being faithless or sinful by his friends. In their minds no good faithful person has a run of bad luck without angering God. Finally, after lodging his complaint with God, God appears to Job. Job questions God and God answers him; however, God doesn't give Job the answer he was looking or hoping for. God doesn't say, “Sorry about all the heartache and misery. The Satan and I had a bet going on that the Satan could take your possessions, family, and give you boils and you would never lose faith. I am deeply sorry.” Instead Job is told to gird up his loins and treated to a parade of creation and blasted with questions of “Where were you when I set the waves and land apart?”

For 3 chapters God showcases God's almighty power and creativity through questions to Job. Not once does God give Job reasons for his affliction or troubles. God does not ever really answer Job's questions or accusations. After the parade of creation goes by Job responds to God's questions, “Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know.” If Job is truly one of the first Old Testament books then it is a telling story. One of the oldest books which looks to answer the ever troubling question, “Why do bad things happen?” gives us no formal answer; instead it resigns itself to say “these things are too wonderful for me.”

We are resigned to this fact: We can neither prove the existence of God or deny the existence of a higher being. For when we reach the pivotal fork in our spiritual journey we are resigned to know that we will not find certainty in faith. We are resigned to live in the uncertainty, trusting that God's love is with us and real. But we are not resigned to it alone. Faith requires us to walk together. If Job's friends had taken a moment and considered Job's situation perhaps they would have questioned their image of God and maybe Job would not have felt so alone.

Often we look at the world and all its problems and ask, “Where is God?” Often we look at our neighbor's struggles and ask, “Where is God?” Often we think God's turned God's back on us for something we've done as either a people or a nation and we feed that image by looking for a villain to blame. We blame society, bad gun laws, liberals, homosexuals, terrorists, government, etc. Often what the hurting world is asking is not “Where's God” but “Where are God's people?”

And so the world looks but we are nowhere to be found. When they do find us they find us at our worse. They find us spending $4 on a chicken sandwich to make a point. They look and find us huddled in our churches with our doors closed. They look and find us absent from the harsh reality of life. They look and find us playing pretend while ignoring the hell in the lives of our friends, our family, and our own church members. They look and find us protesting funerals and shaking our fists at one another. They look and find us but they do not find the Christ we worship. And so this hurting world struggles with an image of God we fail to fully show.

In many ways we are shown to be like Job's friends. We are quick to find an answer to the world's problems/questions instead of listening to what is really being asked. We do not really listen to that question, “Where's God?”

Paul seems to be onto something with his prayer: “I pray that you may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know that the love of Christ surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God” (Ephesians 3:14-21). He seems to understand that it is our life together that we find new views and perceptions into the vast world of God. If we just took a minute to listen to one another, listen to the stories of our neighbor's we would discover stories of faith beyond our own. We would discover we are not alone. Listening to another, dining with one another, listening to their prayers we gain an understanding of God and the world we had not known before. We then are able to say, “These things are too wonderful for me.”

My friends, Greg and Helms Jarrell are founders of a neo-monastic community in Charlotte, called Hyatts. Hyatts is, at its core, an intentional Christian community that lives in a low income, high risk area of Charlotte. They minister to what we would call “the least of these.” Every year I get a chance to spend time with them at Unidiversity and I marvel at their spirits and their true embrace of God's call. They often receive calls from churches wanting to come and visit and help out. Part of Greg and Helms' orientation includes this statement, “the folks you meet are going to be your teachers. Your job is not to be the presence of Christ today, but instead to meet the presence of Christ and to recognize it in those you encounter. These neighbors will be your teachers about the kingdom of Heaven if you will listen.” So often we are so concerned about the world seeing us as the presence of Christ that we fail to listen to what God is saying about them and what they are saying about God.

But if that's what Paul's prayer is telling us? What if the proof of God's existence doesn't rest in absolute certainty or scientific fact? What if the truth of God exists in the lives of ourselves and in our neighbors? What if the question being asked is not “Where's God?” but “Where are God's people?” and what if the answer is, “Here and here?” How different would that fork in the spiritual road look? How different would our experience be? How different would this hurting world be? Would God's love be more evident? Would these things be all to wonderful?

Yes and yes.

What Does God Need With a Spaceship?

http://bible.oremus.org/?ql=208841157

This past week several scientists and historians embarked on $2.2 million, privately funded, journey to discover wreckage at the presumed crash site of Amelia Earhart. One of things I'm fascinated with is history. I love how history changes stories. For example: you have the Robin Hood story and then you have the real Robin Hood story. One is supposed an exaggeration of facts starring animals of the animal kingdom while another is strictly based on actual historical facts and stars Russell Crowe. One of these stories is supposedly true while another is an interpretation of historical events. I think it's the one with the animals that's the true story.

The beauty of the Amelia Earhart story is the mystery that surrounds her flight around the world and her tragic end. Something about these mysteries in our history capture people's attentions. Perhaps it is because stories such as hers remains open and open ended stories are hard stories for us to grasp. We are uncomfortable with the uncertainty and the unknown that open ended stories give us. I am convinced that's why Mark has three different endings and why Lord of the Rings: Return of the King has four. Storytellers, historians, and scientists want to provide stories that have a sense of closure with them. We want our stories to have an ending of some kind, happy or otherwise.

Life doesn't come with perfect endings. Rarely does one get to write out their ending and rarely does one go down in the blaze of glory. Life does come with a lot of uncertainty and unknown. Because of this unknown and uncertainty we get caught in solving mysteries through history and science so that we may know the rest of the story. This is even truer when it comes to faith and religion.

In way faith and religion are supposed to provide some certainty in an uncertain world. We gather in churches and worship a creator God who we believe to have created the universe. Whether through evolution over a millenniums or creationism over a period of seven days, we hold to faith that it was God who did the creating. We believe that not only has God created the universe and humanity but we believe with faith God sent Jesus, his son, as the messiah who was crucified on a cross and raised from the dead, defeating death and sin. Faith means we trust all that to be true which in turn creates a religion to prove that it is certain. Faith eventually gives way to certainty because we naturally desire something that is certain and true in an uncertain time. It is neither right nor wrong. It is the reality of what happens when faith becomes hard. When life produces doubt we transform faith into religion and hold to the certainty religion provides.

One of the biggest certainties we try to lay desperate claim to is what happens to us when we die? Will we go to heaven? Will we go to hell? Will simply stop existing? Is death the final act of our story? How will I know that I'm in heaven? Is heaven for real? We believe the ending matters so we examine the scriptures to find answers to these serious questions. We go on a search to prove how the story will end so we can know it with certainty.

As I child I used to think Mars was Eden. Based on the scientific facts about Mars and the theories that it once supported life or had the ability to support life, I deduced in my 8 year old brain that Mars was where God had created the Garden of Eden and where creation first originated. It made sense in my mind that Eden would have to be a place that once full of life but no more because of the flood that took place in Genesis 3; thus Mars would be the most likely planet for such a place to exist. If it had existed on earth we would have found it. I concluded in my mind that for the first part of creation took place on Mars. Of course my logic broke down when ask to explain to my Sunday school class how creation, specifically Noah got to earth. I simply answered, “The comet that wiped out the dinosaurs was the ark coming to earth.”

I was certain that my theory was correct: that if we could raise enough money we could solve one the bible's great mysteries. However, a few months later I my theory was debunked at the movies thanks to Captain Kirk, Spock, Dr. McCoy and Sybok, Spock's half brother in Star Trek V. Kirk asks the question, upon meeting God, “What does God need with a spaceship?” And I begin to ask myself that question and eventually the whole theory began to unravel. Especially when we sent the rover to Mars and found zero trace of life. Or so we've been told. Sometimes what we need to believe is not certainty but faith.

By the time we get to the twelfth chapter of 2 Corinthians we've reached that latter part of Paul's rant to the church in Corinth. He seems to be upset about something, that something being a group of people known as the super apostles. Not kidding you, it's there in chapter 11 verse 5. Paul defends his ministry, his apostleship, something he has had to do through out his ministry, to a church he helped began. His apostleship is question by these super-apostles and his character belittled. For two chapters he argues against whatever has been said against him.

Paul tells the church, in response to the previous chapters, that he could boast but nothing comes of it. Nothing is gained by boasting but he will move on to visions revelations of the Lord. He knew a person in Christ who fourteen years ago was caught up to the third heaven. Whether it was in the body or out of the body, Paul doesn't know but God does. Paul knows that this person was caught up into paradise and heard things that are not to be told, that no person is permitted to repeat. He goes on to say that he will boast on that person's behalf but on his own behalf he will not, except for his weaknesses.

Paul says he knows a “guy”. We all know a “guy” right? A “guy” who can do any job for us. A “guy” who can chew gum and pass gas at the same time. A “guy” who has a story. Paul knows just the “guy” and that “guy” went up to the third heaven. But he doesn't tell us who the guy was or what they guy saw or heard. He stops short explaining this revelation even though he says that he will boast on his “guy's” behalf he ends up boasting of his weaknesses.

Paul begins to tell a story of how a thorn was given to him to keep from being too elated, a messenger from Satan to torment him. Three times he appealed the Lord about this, that it would leave him but the Lord said to him, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” So, Paul will gladly boast about his weaknesses so that the power of Christ might dwell in him. He is content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for the sake of Christ' for whenever he is weak, then he is strong.

Paul has opportunity to put these “super-apostles” in their place and to quell any doubts of the church. But he doesn't. He mentions knowing a person, perhaps himself, who went up to heaven but he does not elaborate. He does not share the rest of the story with us. He doesn't provide us with a good ending to his story. Instead he goes on to talk about his weaknesses. He goes on to say that Christ said to him, “My grace is sufficient”. His power is not found in his strength but in his weaknesses.

This is where faith and religion divide. Religion holds to the idea that power comes from strength and strength is shown through power. Religions that seek power do so to ensure that they have ability to tell the ending they wish to tell. They seek control. They'll boast over all that “God” has done for them and hold up all the wonders of God evident in their numbers, members, dollars, and the who's who. The more power a religion obtains the stronger they are and the more God has rewarded them.

They would read Paul's letter and criticize him for being humble and not boasting. They would read of the thorn in his side, a messenger from Satan, as Paul being punished for an unspoken sin. God wouldn't allow such a thing to a true repentant believer. They would insist that he confess his sins for God does not willing afflict those who believe.

Faith, though, is only made whole in our weakness. Faith is at its best when we are weak, for we must fully rely on Christ's grace. Christ's grace is sufficient and true when we are weak. What use do I have for God's grace if I am strong? If I am strong then I rely on my strengths but if I am weak then I rely on Christ's grace. Faith is what makes possible the ability to trust that Christ's grace is sufficient in our weaknesses.

It is hard for us to be weak in front of one another. It is hard to trust that our neighbors, friends, family, church won't take advantage of our weaknesses and exploit them. We fear that they will think differently of us. We fear that if they see us struggling our faith will be questioned. We fear we'll be told God is angry and that is why you are struggling. We fear that our weaknesses make us weak and it is only the strong that survive. The ending has to be perfect, strong and bold. There cannot be a weak ending.

To think that, to believe that is to misread the gospel story. It is in weakness that the messiah goes to the cross. He is taunted by others demanding he show his strength. The true son of God is not a weakling who does not fight back. In Christ's weakness we are made whole. We are redeemed in the weakness and foolishness of the cross. The story doesn't end with the weak cross. God takes the weakest moment and transforms into the strongest moment. Through the weakness of the cross death and sin are defeated becoming strong in the resurrection.

We are all weak. I do not mean that in a derogatory sense. It's just an honest observation of humanity. If we weren't weak then there would not be a need for doctors and physicians. If we weren't weak then there would not be a need for Christ's grace. We can try and hide it and pretend that we're strong but we're not. And that's okay. It's okay to be weak.

When I was 17 I was diagnosed with depression. It was over the silliest things too. My girlfriend of two months and I broke up and one of my best friends from church decided we were no longer friends. I remember going to sit at his table and he said, “Sorry, those seats are saved for my friends.” Looking back it may not seem that big of a deal but in those moments they were. Seven years later I discovered how prone I was to depression after burning myself out at work. I was prescribed medicine early on but it didn't work for me. I didn't trust the medicine. I didn't trust the temptation the medicine provided. So I learned to dance with it. Sometimes when the long dark cloud comes in I run and hide from it. Sometimes I strip down and dance in the rain. What may seem like a weakness has made me a better husband, father, and minister. In my weakness I have been able to connect on a deeper level to those I serve. What some have called weak, God has used as a strength.

We live in an uncertain world that tempts us with creating a religion based on certainty. We look to write out an easy ending or a satisfying ending but life doesn't work that way. No matter how hard we search, life will always have mysteries. It's part of life's weaknesses. But what we see as a weakness, God sees as strength. For when we are weak, we are strong.  

Who Shepherds the Shepherd: No Shepherd; No Sheep

I do not like the metaphor of sheep and shepherds when it is used with the church and ministers. I have seen ministers assume that the metaphor gives them the power in the relationship. I have seen congregants and ministers fight over this power and I have seen it get very nasty, dirty, and very dangerous. I heard a pastor preach one time that "there is only one shepherd in this church and I am it."

But what if there were no shepherds or sheep?

A good friend, replying to my last post, suggested that we use texts like Ezekiel 34 and "help others realize the call isn't to be just sheep but shepherds themselves according to their gifts as we are all created in the image of the God, the great shepherd." (He's more baptist then he wants to admit sometimes.)

I like his theory and his understanding of Ezekiel 34 but what if we moved past those terms? What if we stopped referring to one another as either shepherds or sheep? What if we start to see ourselves as something different and leave the shepherd/sheep imagery to the one who is the Good Shepherd?

Ezekiel 34 refers to God's destruction of all the "shepherds" who abandoned the "sheep" and fed only themselves and did not take care of the "sheep" as they were entrusted to do. God then says that God will be the shepherd and that God will search out the sheep and lead them home. I believe God says that about 25 times starting in verse 11. So what if we left that imagery to God/Jesus?

It is hard for a minister to see themselves on the same level as a congregant. After all, they've been ordained, set apart from the congregation, from the church. But so were the deacons/elders who were elected/ordained by the church to help lead the church. Are they not to be considered shepherds of the church? What about those who serve as committee chairs? What about Sunday school teachers, small group leaders, preschool directors, etc? Are they not to be considered shepherds of the church?

And if they are and we are all shepherds then who are the sheep? Those who do not serve in a "authoritative" position? Are they the sheep?

Again I ask: What if there were no shepherds or sheep?


My friend adds: "We must realize that for the church to survive and for our own health things need to change. The relational aspects that both bond and separate us from our communities need to be seriously reexamined."

I believe this reexamination begins through the idea of ministers as spiritual guides. As I think about our calling and the struggle we have to over-function and believe the future of the church rests on our shoulders, the more I see this as a better way to function in ministry. Because the truth is we have been set a part from the congregation but we are not above our congregations.


For some reason ministers believe they are solely responsible for the church's survival. That reason of course comes from the tradition that if a church gets the right minister/pastor then all the folks in town will show up. The minister becomes the center of the church and when scandal, controversy, conflict, or struggles come the center starts to shake and the minister is not strong enough to hold it in place. When the minister crumbles under the weight, the church removes him/her and begins to find someone else who is stronger, more charismatic, more "committed" to rebuild the center and hold it in place. Until it crumbles on top of them.

We do need to reexamine the relationship between minister and congregant. We need to reexamine and see that we may be "set apart" in our ordination and in our call but we are not called to hold up the center. The center is held up by the Shepherd, the one true Shepherd, the Good Shepherd. Something no minister or congregant could ever be.

So, what if there were no shepherds or sheep?

What if there is only you and me? What if there is only church and we're just people doing our best to figure out how to love God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength; and love our neighbor as ourselves in a world that doesn't work right?

Would we see ministers staying in ministry?

Would we see ministers not experiencing burn out?

Would we see better relationships between ministers, deacons, church leaders, and the congregation?

In time I believe we would.

Can the Center Hold?

Things fall apart; the center cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed and everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity.¹

Can the center hold?

That was the question proposed in an article on Lamentations 3:22-33. It is borrowed from a poem by WB Yeats, “The Second Coming”. Yeats' poem reflects the struggles of a post World War I Europe but it seems to apply here today as we read the poet's words in Lamentations.

We are, perhaps in a bit of irony, at the center of the book of Lamentations. And at the center of this book the poet confesses the creed: “The steadfast love the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end,” but can the center hold? Can the creed hold? Given what has taken place with the fall of Jerusalem to the Babylonian empire, the poet reminds himself of this creed as he works his way through his lament, “But this I call to mind and therefore I have hope” (3:21). He seems confident that this creed will hold; that the center will not give way and mere anarchy will not be loosed upon the world but his confidence gives way to a kind of resignation, “It is good for one to bear the yoke in youth...to give one's cheek to the smiter.” Even so, confidence and confession return for the poet: “For the Lord will not reject forever...for he does not willingly afflict or grieve anyone.”

The poet believed those things, at least here in the center of the book, he believes them to be true. He believes in this hope but he calls this hope into terrible question at the end: “unless you have utterly rejected us, and are angry with us beyond measure” (5:22). In other words: The Lord will not rejects forever...unless he does!²

To hear that is to hear the terror that haunts Lamentations. What if the center cannot hold? What God is unable to keep God's promises? Yes, the scriptures say that the Lord's love endures forever but what if if it does not? What if God has utterly rejected us? Can those questions be what faced those hunkered down in the destroyed city of God?³ Can those be the questions many of us are asking today?

A movie came on the other day called Higher Ground. It was about a woman who married very young and grew up in a fundamentalist church. Everything was fine and dandy until her best friend was diagnosed with a brain tumor. Her friend survived but was left in almost vegetative state. The movie began to focus on her struggle with what her church taught and with what was happening in reality. At the end of the movie she gives a little testimony in which she expresses her doubts and fears. Her children finish singing “In the Garden” and she begins to share her thoughts. She talks about how lovely it must be to walk with Jesus in the garden. To have him there and to be by his side. She tells a story of how as a little girl she said she heard Jesus knocking on her heart but now, as an adult, with all that's gone on she can't hear him knocking anymore. She cries out for him to answer her but he's no one where to be found. She's struggling. She's confused. She's afraid.

The camera pans to the left for a shot of the congregation and you can see several members tearing up. They seem to connect with what she is saying. They seem to understand and feel relieved that someone expressing the fears and doubts they have themselves. The pastor sits there quietly and gets a look of pride when she says, “I admire your faith.” She gives him the microphone and leaves the church. The movie ends with her taking one look back at the small congregation as they begin to sing “How Great Thou Art” and she leaves through the backdoor alone.

I rewound the movie several times to see if what I saw was right. There was a woman leaving the church with her fears and her doubts and she was leaving alone. When her questions and fears began to shake the center of her church she didn't find comfort or restoration but instead isolation and separation. It was, for once, an honest depiction of the struggles of faith.

It is hard to have to faith. It is hard to go through life and not ask ourselves, “will the center hold?” “Can the center hold?” Can it hold our questions, our doubts, our fears? Can it hold our mistakes, our depression, our divorces, our failures, our pain? Can the center hold at midnight?

The beautiful struggle of faith is depicted throughout the scriptures. We often read the stories of Israel's faults and failures as sinfulness and disobedience from God. We read those stories wondering, “How could they turn away from the God who freed them from Egypt?” We sometimes, accidentally or by design, avoid the real the struggle in those stories. We look at Thomas and question his love for Jesus when he says, “I will not believe unless I see.” We look at one another and say, “If you have questions, fears, doubts, or worries, don't. Jesus, “Do not worry”” forgetting that the rest of the passage reads, “Do not worry about tomorrow for tomorrow will worry about itself. Today has enough troubles.”

Yes, today has enough troubles, the lines on our faces are evidence of those troubles. Our troubles sometimes ask, “Can the center hold?”

Do you know that ministers ask themselves that question for time to time? Almost 40% of all ministers will experience some form of depression during their ministry. Did you know that almost 80% of all adults living in America will experience so form of depression? Among Christians the numbers are about the same based on a quick Google search, approximately 1 out of 4 will experience some for of depression.

I learned the other night a friend recently lost her job as a youth minister and her husband due to having a mental break. The stress of the job, the stress of feeling like the whole world was on her shoulders eventually broke her. While seeking help she learned that her husband left her cause he couldn't deal with it and the church where she ministered for the past few years said she was a danger to the youth and they let her go.

It's hard to have faith and hope in such a time. It is hard for churches to see their ministers struggle and see them at times of serious weakness. It is hard for ministers to admit they need help or that they struggle in their faith. It is hard for men and women who believe they should have all the answers to life's problems have none of their own.

The hard truth is ministers are people just like you. We are just as human as you are. We wrestle with God, faith, salvation, hope, and reality. We struggle with unrealistic expectations and how to live up to them. We often don't have the courage to say, “I need help.” We often feel alone. We preach that if you call on Christ, he answers you. We preach that Christ is in the midst of your struggles but when our struggles come we feel as though they shouldn't. We feel like we should be excluded. Our churches feel we should be excluded.

But we're not. None of us are: Congregants or ministers.

A lot of us ask the same question the poet is asking every single day, “Does God's love endure forever? Can the center hold?”

We've heard this question before, “even though I walk through the darkest valley” or “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” We cannot understand the hope of Psalm 23 (“The Lord is my Shepherd”⁴) if we do not hear them uttered in the midst of the darkest valley. We cannot understand the cry of Jesus unless we hear them in the midst of the pain and suffering of the cross. The hope that the scriptures speak to, the center of faith: “God's love endures forever” is a center that is tested time and time again. And time and time again we see God's faithfulness and we have to remind ourselves of it.

The poet reminds himself of the center of faith and he holds on to it writing, “The Lord is good to those who wait for him” (v.25). Of course we know how long the wait can be. We know what that waiting place looks like. We know the old magazines that sit on the shelves of that waiting place. We know we can be overconfident and say, “It's okay! Just hold on. Just believe that all will be well” like we're Kevin Bacon at the end of Animal House. But what if everything will not be okay? What if our friend's child dies of cancer? What if our father or mother cannot ever walk? What if the poet is right? What if the center cannot hold?

I know it is not my duty to produce such doubt. Life produces doubt, that's a universal truth. But I do believe we need to be honest when we reach these dark valleys in our spiritual journeys. We need to name it, to allow a place for it in our worship, and to put faith where it belongs “as the amazing “nevertheless”: “Nevertheless I am continually with you; you hold my right hand” (Psalm 73:23).”⁵

For the poet, faith will require Israel's memory of what God has done and it will need to be continual reminder through prayer and worship. Faith for us will require our own communal memory of what God has done. You remember the saying, “It takes a village”? It will take a congregation, a church, a faith community to restore our faith, to be an open space for our questions and our fears, and our doubts. We will sing about it in our worship. We will proclaim from the darkest valleys and the tallest crosses. We will do it together.

The center cannot hold when we are alone. Our faith cannot hold on its own. We are not strong enough to go through life alone. We need one another. We need our faith community, our church family to remind us of our center, to remind us that our center can hold. There will be times when we feel our faith cannot hold, our center is crashing down and anarchy is loosened on the world. We need to admit to one another when we feel that all is lost. We need to be honest with one another about our hurts, our fears, our struggles, our pain. We need to, else we end up trying to hold the center in place alone. We need one another to hold up the voice that says, “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness” (vv.22-23).

It does not fix our problems or raise us up to the clouds beyond the troubles of this world; but it will bring God into the depths to share our terrors and unbelief and give us, in Christ, a place to stand. Even when we feel the center cannot hold.⁶

1William Butler Yeats, “The Second Coming,” in The Norton Anthology of English Literature, seventh edition vol.2 (New York: Norton Co., 2000), 2106-2107.

2Fred Gaiser, “Lamentations 3:22-33: Commentary on First Reading” http://www.workingpreacher.org

3Fred Gaiser, “Lamentations 3:22-33: Commentary on First Reading” http://www.workingpreacher.org

4Fred Gaiser, “Lamentations 3:22-33: Commentary on First Reading” http://www.workingpreacher.org

5Fred Gaiser, “Lamentations 3:22-33: Commentary on First Reading” http://www.workingpreacher.org

6Fred Gaiser, “Lamentations 3:22-33: Commentary on First Reading” http://www.workingpreacher.org