Moses, Crazy Faith, and Waiting for God

I wrote this book called Crazy Faith: Ordinary People; Extraordinary Lives. In it, I lift some characters from the Bible and from life and

talk about the incredible, crazy faith they had to have had in order to do what they did.

What I have come to realize, however, is that crazy faith, or having crazy faith, does not mean one does not feel fear or anxiety as he or she waits and works for God to “show up.” I have come to recognize something that I have dubbed “the Red Sea moment” that all bouts of crazy faith must have.

This “Red Sea moment” is, of course, about Moses. The Bible is good about telling stories without getting into the “meat,” or the human factor …of being human as one waits for divine intervention. Moses has been told by God to lead the Israelites to The Promised Land. What should have been 11 days, two weeks at most, turned out to take 40 years. No doubt when they finally reached the Red Sea (or, more correctly, the Sea of Reeds), they were all ready to get on with their lives.

That desire would have been shared by Moses, maybe even more so, since he had been leading the people for so long! Moses had been roped into the job of leading the Israelites through the wilderness by God, and he had relied on the voice and direction of God throughout the journey, albeit he acted in frustration and not faith when he hit a rock that God told him to merely speak to, a breach in faith that cost Moses getting into the Promised Land.

So, maybe Moses thought about what his frustration and doubt had wrought for him as concerns that rock as he now stood on the bank of the Red Sea. Can’t you see him? Standing there. holding a rod over the vast body of water, because God told him the waters would part? There he stood, as the Israelites, murmured against him …and as the Egyptians got closer and closer. Moses and the others could hear the hoofs of the soldiers’ horses, and might have been able to feel the earth vibrate and tremble as “the enemy” made its way to the exact place where Moses and the Israelites stood.

But stand there he did. With the rod in his hand, holding it out “over the water,” which would only have been over the edge of the sea, ebbing and flowing onto the land. How crazy is that? Moses most assuredly had doubts and fears….but he chose to believe that God would do what God had said He would do. And God …did.

That’s a wonderful story …but the point is that before there was the parting of the Sea there was probably a trembling of Moses’ very soul. Where was God? And when was God coming? His disobedience and frustration, which led him to hit a rock that God had merely told him to speak to, convinced him that God was 1) present, even when we don’t know it, 2) unimpressed with disobedience based on doubt, and 3) eager to show His/Her children that He was in fact, God.

The Red Sea moment had to have been terrifying for Moses.

Our “Red Sea” moments are terrifying to us as well. When we stand on the bank of a “sea” or on the edge of a “precipice,” needing God and believing God will come to us because God sees where we are standing and knows the situation we are in. when we can hear the “hoofs of the horses” getting closer and closer to us, we are being allowed to feel what Moses most probably felt.

The key is to “stand our ground” while we wait for God. That is hard and that is scary …but that is what God would require, if the Bible is to be believed.

The edge of the Red Sea, waiting in faith for God to “part the water” in our lives so that we can get to another place, perhaps THE place God has put in place for us, is not a comfortable place to be. We may even look at it as a test to see if we have faith or just give lip service to the same. Crazy faith means having stilled voices but enlarged spirits that are making room for God to do a new thing.

Moses, in spite of feeling terror for sure, and worry about what the Israelites were thinking about him and what they would say if the Egyptians got there before the waters parted. Hr might have been seen mouthing quiet prayers as he waited for God.

Many people have waited, like Moses, swallowing their fear and trying, working, to regurgitate their faith. Such regurgitation of faith has its own rewards.

A candid observation …

God Ignored?

Religion, says Bishop Desmond Tutu in his book, God is Not a Christian: And Other Provocations, “…should foster sisterhood and brotherhood, which should encourage tolerance, respect, compassion, peace, reconciliation, caring and sharing.” To the contrary, however, Tutu notes that religion “…has fueled alienation and conflict, and has exacerbated intolerance and injustice and oppression. Some of the ghastliest atrocities have happened and are happening in the name of religion,” Tutu writes.

Why in the name of all that is good is that true?

It sometimes feels that God is absent, or perhaps lounging, watching His/Her children be as completely human as they care to be – meaning, God leaves us to our own devices. In many ways, we are like the Biblical prodigal son, who insulted his father by asking for his inheritance while his father was very much alive. Such an act in Middle Eastern culture was unheard of, and should have driven his father to wild rage, writes Kenneth Bailey in his book, Finding the Lost Cultural Keys to Luke 15. Instead, writes Bailey, the father swallowed his hurt and insult, and granted his son the gift of freedom. He watched …as his son made a horrible decision, alienated his family and community, and went off to be as completely human as he cared to be.

In that story, the son “comes to himself,” and decides to go back home, and his father runs to meet him, which prominent men of that day did not do, lifting up his heavy robes exposing his legs so that he could run faster, again, something which was not acceptable for him to do. One did not run; one did not expose his or her legs. This father did both.

Stories like that serve as reminders that God is not absent, but that God really does allow us to be free – even if our being free results in oppression and intolerance and unkindness amongst ourselves as squabbling children.

It makes me want to say to God, “God, please, can you be a little more strict? Can you please cut down or cut back on this free will thing? Don’t you want a good world?” God allows us, as His/Her children, to take our inheritance of love and go to a “far land.” Yes, we are free! But with our freedom, we are wildly irresponsible, causing so much chaos and pain.

Did God ask us to do things like love our enemy, or forgive folks, or …do to others as we would like done to us …knowing that we would never do it? That the way God wired us made it almost impossible?

Right now, there is a civil war in Syria – amongst religious people. Some of our lawmakers, like Sen. John McCain, seem to be pushing for our country to become involved militarily – like “boots on ground” involvement – in that country’s civil war. The Syrians are doing horrible things to each other, and some Americans want us to help them do it. Protestants and Catholics fought against each other in Ireland; Christians fought against each other in our own Civil War. In the case of Syria, I wonder if those who are fighting each other stop long enough for traditional prayers. My guess would be that they do.

What is it about religion that makes its adherents so incapable of doing what religion is supposed to foster, the things that Bishop Tutu raised in his book?

It seems that very few of us “get it.” The new pope, Pope Francis, seems to get it, that as a religious person, are all held to a higher standard. The other day he interacted with a young boy who has Down Syndrome, inviting him to sit in the pope’s seat in the pope-mobile. A small gesture, for sure, but one that made a profound impact on that young boy and probably changed his life. He’ll probably want to be pope one day so that he can pay forward what Pope Francis gave to him. (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/06/19/pope-francis-down-syndrome_n_3465684.html) He has said that “Christianity is incompatible with anti-Semitism,” and says that he is going to work to deepen and improve the relationship between Catholics and Jews. (http://www.religionnews.com/2013/06/24/pope-francis-christianity-is-incompatible-with-anti-semitism/). He is not being a reticent prelate, and his determination to be amongst the people is not going unnoticed. That kind of involvement with “the least of these” would probably help us all be nicer to each other. People have a need to be touched, loved and affirmed.

Is it that religion, in general, is reluctant to mingle with “the least of these” that helps breed what Tutu calls “ghastly atrocities?”

We have God, but we are not all that interested in worshiping Him/Her – if worship means to honor God by following God’s directions. We worship the Bible, wrote the late Rev. Peter Gomes, chaplain at Harvard University; in fact, Gomes said, this “bibliolatry” has superseded our desire and ability to connect with God. Gomes writes in The Good Book: Reading the Bible with Head and Heart,” that “in the absence of a visible God, the temptation is always near to make a god of whatever is visible and related in some proximate way to the real thing.” Perhaps. Or perhaps we make a god of whatever is visible and related to our own ideologies and prejudices. Ideology kicks theology out of the game.

So, in the name of an ignored God, the late Osama bin Laden, purported to be a devout Muslim, plans and executes a plan to bomb the World Trade Center towers and the Pentagon, though that part of the plan failed thanks to the brave people on that flight. In the name of an ignored God, churches spew venom against gays and lesbians. In the name of an ignored God, racism, anti-Semitism, and sexism have flourished. So many times the oppression of people and groups have been the worst inside of churches and in spite of a professed belief in God.

God allows us to go to a far place …and stay there.

Maybe we’d do better with a little less freedom.

A candid observation …

God is Not a Christian

Retired Anglican Bishop Desmond Tutu has written a most fascinating book, God is Not a Christian: And Other Provocations,” which begs any and all who take their religious walk and life seriously to read.

Tutu makes the case for the compassion of God versus the too-often lack of compassion found amongst Christians. Humans, he says, have “an impatience with anything and anyone that suggests there might be another way of looking at the same thing…There is a nostalgia for the security in the womb of safe sameness, and so we shut out the stranger and the alien.” Our faith must make us ready, says Tutu, “to take risks, to be venturesome and innovative; yes, to dare to walk where angels might fear to tread.”

Those words are simple; the directive of the Gospel to love God with everything we’ve got, and our neighbors as ourselves is a simple one to understand, and yet, is most difficult to do. What comes to mind immediately is the poor reception a 10-year-old Mexican American boy got when he sang the National Anthem at the opening of Game 3 of the championship game last week between the San Antonio Spurs and the Miami Heat in San Antonio.

Sebastien De La Cruz sang his little heart out at the opening game…but instead of encouraging and supporting him, some people found the fact of his singing the National Anthem offensive. (http://www.cnn.com/2013/06/12/us/mexican-american-boy-sings-anthem/index.html) . Cryptic and racist remarks were made, like, “Why do they have a Mexican singing the National Anthem?” or “why are they letting an illegal alien sing the national anthem?” (De La Cruz, by the way, is an American citizen.) Apparently, there were a lot of such remarks made, and I would bet that many of them were made by God-fearing, God-loving Americans.

There is something wrong with a country that applauds globalization from an economic perspective, but which does not understand all of the ways globalization changes and is changing the world. To be global means to be connected with people not like yourself; it means that different music, different names, different foods, different customs …become available for all people. Instead of being a homogeneous society, globalization means that there is a buffet before people, offering the great diversity of this world…which was, remember, all created by God.

globalization means that sometimes, as ethnic and racial groups meet, people will be uncomfortable as they come face to face with that which is different. We grow to love the “safe sameness” that Tutu writes about, and anything that jostles that safety is enough to set some people off, God notwithstanding.

Christians are held to a high standard because Christians claim to follow Jesus the Christ, who preached love, inclusiveness, compassion, mercy and forgiveness. Christians like to boast that “their way” is the “only way” to God.

But one has to wonder, as we watch Christians behave abominably, what God is saying. Could it be that God is displeased with our racism and sexism and homophobia and xenophobia? Could it be that God is shaking at His/Her very foundations, yelling and screaming, “No!!! That’s not what I sent Jesus for!” as He/She watches us shun people, put them out of our “safe sameness” and as far away from us as possible?

Tutu’s statement, “God is not a Christian” is provocative, and yet, it seems to true. God, in the Hebrew scriptures, railed at the Israelites because they didn’t “get it,” the message of love and mercy and hospitality that God wanted them to have. The Israelites consistently broke covenant with God and it caused God, finally, to have to send Jesus to make humans at one with (atoned) God. Christians are supposed to “get it,” are supposed to understand what the ministry of Jesus was all about, and yet, historically, as it concerns different groups of people – blacks, women, members of the LGBT community …and even people with AIDS (remember Ryan White?) Christian behavior has too often been sorely lacking

Did God waste the sacrifice of his Son? Was Jesus’ suffering and death done for nothing?

Young De La Cruz didn’t let the racist remarks stop him, and, to the credit of the Spurs organization, they invited him back to sing the National Anthem the next evening. “For those that said something bad about me, I understand it’s your opinion,” said Sebastien to CNN. “I’m a proud American and live in a free country. It’s not hurting me. It’s just your opinion.”

It may not be hurting De La Cruz, but one wonders if it hurts God.

The days are over when America looks one way, with two major ethnic groups facing off. The fabric of America is multi-colored, with different hues and shades that will only increase. One day there may well be a Muslim in a hajib singing the National Anthem. Globalization, as far as the business community is concerned, is a good thing in that it increases the capacity for huge profits based on expanding markets. But globalization at its core might more importantly be about bringing the diversity of this world together, so that we must come out of “safe sameness” and get to know our neighbors better. It will be much harder to war against people we have grown to know and love.

A candid observation…

What If That Was God?

A young African-American man came to my door yesterday, selling magazine subscriptions. I wouldn’t have answered the door, as I don’t answer my door if I am not expecting anyone, but the front door was open and one of my dogs, aroused by the sound of the doorbell, was already “greeting” the stranger enthusiastically.

The young man gave a good sales pitch. He was trying to get his life together; he had come from a poor neighborhood and had gotten into trouble but was trying to make a come-around. He held up the plastic-covered paperwork which described and validated the company for which he was working. We “virtually” shook hands.

Though it was unbearably hot, there was no sweat on this young man; his white shirt looked crisp and dry. He gave his pitch to me, but I wasn’t biting. I didn’t want any magazine subscriptions. Plus, if I had wanted a subscription, I wouldn’t have been able to purchase one. I have no job.

But the young man stood, tall, straight, and determined. I don’t know what I said, but he said, “But we can do all things through Christ.” Right before that, he said, “What if the roles were revered? What if I was standing inside, where you are, and you were standing here, where I am? Wouldn’t you want me to help you out?”

He had no idea how much his words gave me pause. Was I looking at what I am about to become? A person, going door to door, asking people to purchase something they don’t want, just so to be able to have some money, not even enough to survive?

He said something else, but I didn’t hear. I was absorbed in my troubling thoughts. In a moment, he was gone. I watched him walk away, quickly, proudly, straight and tall.

But he was gone. I looked out my bedroom window when I went back to my room. He was gone. He wasn’t next door; I didn’t see him sauntering down, or around, the cul-de-sac. He had disappeared just like he had appeared. When the doorbell had rung, I looked out my window. I saw no car. I thought it might be a neighbor…but it was him. And now, he was gone.

The situation reminded me of something that had happened years ago when my children were little. It was a dark, cold, rainy November night. We were in a gas station. A person walked up to the car, wanting money; she said (I think it was a she) she was hungry, but I said I didn’t have any money, and sent her on her way.

I had always told my children that we are supposed to love “the least of these.” We were Christians, for goodness’ sake. We were called to not only talk love, but live it.

My children had seen me blow the woman off. We got our gas and pulled off…but my son, Charlie, was disturbed. “Mommy,” he said, “what if that was God?”

Jesus Mother Mercy. From the mouths of babes. I was hit with a sense of…something…including shame. I immediately turned around. I bought a sandwich and began looking for the woman.

But she was gone. She had disappeared. I drove up one street, down another. Surely, she couldn’t have gone far? But she was gone. It was like she had appeared and disappeared in the same breath.

Like yesterday. I could hear Charlie’s voice. “Mommy, what if that was God?” I can’t stop shuddering. I would bet I missed an opportunity for something that God put in front of me…again …and I would bet that more of us than we care to think or talk about have had similar experiences.

We say we can’t see God, but it’s not because God doesn’t reveal Him/Herself to us. It’s because we have spiritual cataracts, caused by any number of experiences. My cataracts yesterday are there because I am consumed with my own situation.

I saw the face of God, and turned away one of “the least of these.”

A candid observation…

The Courage to Be

The late Rev. Dr. Peter J. Gomes wrote in his introduction to the Second Edition of Paul Tillich‘s The Courage to Be, quotes Tillich as saying that “the courage to be, in the face of existentialism with its temptations to cynical despair and noncreative self-indulgence is the ‘courage to accept oneself as accepted in spite of being unacceptable.”‘

In that same introduction, Gomes quotes from the famous theologian’s sermon, “You Are Accepted:” “You are accepted, accepted by that which is greater than you and the name of which you do not know…Do not seek for anything; do not perform anything; do not intend anything. Simply accept the fact that you are accepted! If that happens, we experience grace.”

One can almost not help but think about that thought from Tillich in the aftermath of NBA player Jason Collins “coming out” as a gay, African-American male yesterday.

The center, who has been playing with the Washington Wizards this year, showed the courage to “be” and to admit who he is. For him, the pain of having to live a lie has been removed. No male in major U.S. sports has made such a courageous move, despite the probability that there are more gay men playing major league sports.

Joe Sterling and Steve Almasy, who wrote a CNN story about Collins’ announcement, said that what he did was probably the biggest move of his career. (http://www.cnn.com/2013/04/29/sport/collins-gay/index.html?hpt=hp_t3) While that might be true, it is a sad fact that anyone in the land where freedom is cherished, many feel free to be anything but who they are.

The obsession with hating people who are gay has always been astounding. The fact that the hating of gay people has been done under the umbrella of religion, and specifically under the umbrella of Christianity, which is supposed to be the religion of love, mercy and forgiveness, is more than astounding. It is downright troubling.

This writer has heard Christians say smugly, “we will love the sinner but hate the sin.” For some reason, they don’t realize that it’s not real easy to separate “sin” from its vessel, the so-called sinner. And the statement belies a general misunderstanding of what “sin” is – a separation, or estrangement, from God. It seems that when any of us religious types gets into judging people, doing what God is supposed to do, that we are in fact “in sin,” because we have separated ourselves from God…in order to DO God, or try to BE God, making judgements on who is worthy of being religious, and who is not. Say that to an average religious sort, though, and you’re sure to get a ringing argument.

Jason Collins said that his decision to come out was precipitated by the Boston Marathon bombings. That incident reminded him of how fragile and tenuous is life. He realized that he wanted, no, needed, to BE what he was. He wanted to be able to have a partner and not sneak around. He wanted a family, just like his twin brother. He tried to “fit into” the American religious and cultural heterosexual club; he actually got engaged to a woman. But it didn’t work. He was not and is not, heterosexual. He is homosexual.

Gomes, commenting on Tillich’s conversation on what it is to have the courage to BE, write that “fate, guilt and the fear of death” are the entities, the anxieties, that “bedeviled” the human spirit. Surely, many people in the LGBT community know exactly what that feels like.

Collins’ courage is all the more admirable because he is a free agent. After this season is over, he technically does not have a job, not unless another team picks him up. If a teams does in fact pick him up, he is bound to face the sound and the fury of homophobic players and fans. The seething hatred so many have for and toward gay people is still a palpable emotion in the world. To “be” in spite of knowing that some of that surely awaits one speaks to the character of one who has decided to BE, come what may.

Collins’ announcement has all of the news operations talking; on many news programs today, his admission was the lead story, pushing the ongoing coverage of the Boston Marathon bombing and its aftermath to the periphery, if just for a moment. Grace, given to us by God, will have to cover and embrace Collins for a while; God affirms Collins, and he is beginning to affirm himself, but as for the world, it is not so generous or willing. We will have to wait and see how Collins’ colleagues and teammates in the NBA act and react to him, and it remains to be seen if any of the rough and tough players of the NFL will now gain the courage to admit who they are as well.

Jason Collins will go down in history probably more for his admission than for his career as an NBA player. He has broken through a barrier that nobody even wanted to acknowledge, much less tear down. He has blessed someone with his courage, but with every blessing, there are burdens, and he will have his share.

One more observation: this “accepting” of homosexuality seems to be a greater issue for males than it is or has been for females. One person reportedly said that with “all the women around” men actually prefer messing around with males. There’s something very twisted in that kind of thinking. While there are surely dysfunctional relationships among gay people, as there are among straight people, in the end, a healthy relationship is about love, not gender. Relationships…are about love. It’s the same type of love that Virginia Loving, a black woman, had for her husband, Richard, a white man. The relationship was about love, not color. The couple had a hard life, determined to stay together in spite of the hatred and opposition spewed toward them. It was about love …

In the end, it seems that’s what too many of us don’t get. It’s not about sexual preference or color or religion. It’s about love. A man loving a man doesn’t take away from one’s virility or strength or talent, any more than a white person loving a black person does, or a Christian loving a Jew. The best relationships are those in which love is front and center. Perhaps that’s what Jason Collins came to realize. Perhaps that’s what his admission will encourage others to think about as well.

A candid observation…