A Pursued Hope

Here she is pleading before the heartless, faithless judge . . . widowed, alone, and in desperate need for help. In the Levitical Law, communities are supposed to rally around widows and help support them, vindicate them. The early church is supposed to allow widows to live in the courtyards and buildings of the sanctuaries and use tithing to purchase food, water, and daily goods. But our widow in Luke 18 isn’t getting any of these things. The religious community doesn’t recognize her humanity, and she’s just unfortunate enough to be in the one town where the judge hates God and couldn’t care less for the vitality of humanity.

In other words, our widowed woman needs help, needs relief, needs God.

It’s almost unimaginable to be where this widow is. She has no husband. No family. No money. No land. No future. No promise. No life. Her faith tells her she has rights to her basic needs. But those have been stricken from her too. And God seems nowhere to be found.

What would you do when what you need is to know God cares – but you don’t get any response? The most theological answer I can give just so happens to be articulated best by Dr. Seuss.
On you will go though the weather be foul. On you will go though your enemies prowl. On you will go though the Hakken-Kraks howl. Onward up many a frightening creek, though your arms may get sore and your sneakers may leak. On and on you will hike. And I know you’ll hike far and face up to your problems whatever they are.

You’ll get mixed up, of course, as you already know. You’ll get mixed up with many strange birds as you go. So be sure when you step. Step with care and great tact and remember that Life’s a Great Balancing Act. Just never forget to be dexterous and deft. And never mix up your right foot with your left.

And will you succeed? Yes! You will, indeed! (98 and ¾ percent guaranteed.) Kid, you’ll move mountains!

So…be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray or Mordecai Ale Van Allen O’Shea, you’re off to Great Places! Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting. So…get on your way!

What I love about Dr. Seuss and what I love about the story of the widower is the extreme need for hope. Dr. Seuss hopes that if you keep moving forward you will find yourself and God in the world and you will be able to move mountains. Now Dr. Seuss doesn’t really know this. He just hopes that it’s true. The widowed woman has the same hope that if she never gives up pursuing justice than one day she will find it.

This is the hope we must cling to. This is the hope that carries our faith forward. This is the hope that allows us to wake up each and every day ready to partner with a God that creates, redeems and makes things new. This is the hope that stops poverty in the world. This is the hope that revolutionizes lives. This is the hope that allows us to get unstuck. This it he hope that tears down walls of racism, segregation, and pain. This is the hope that stops wars. This is the hope that says after this life is another more beautiful life. This is the hope of Christianity. This is the hope Jesus offers us. This is the hope we must carry today.

God is present in our waiting, and God wants us to never stop pursuing.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Most Difficult Parable Ever

Image
Theologian N.T. Wright finds the parable of the fig tree to be quite strange.  He says, “Jesus' warning in Luke 13 is at once amplified by this almost humorous, yet in fact quite sinister, parable of the fig tree in the vineyard.” And it is sinister.  It’s a hard pill to take.  Jesus' parable goes like this: A man has as fig tree planted in his vineyard.  One day he comes out looking for fruit on it, but there are no figs.  He says to the vineyard keeper, “Look at this tree.  For three years, I've come hoping to find some fresh figs, but what do I find? Nothing.  So just go ahead and cut it down.  Why waste the space with a fruitless tree?” The vineyard keeper replies, “Give it another chance, sir.  Give me one more years working with it.  I’ll cultivate the soil and heap on some manure to fertilize it.  If it surprises us and bears fruit next year, that will be great, but if not, then we’ll cut it down.”  (Luke 13:5-9, The Voice) But how is it sinister?
Read more

The Bird of Dawning Singeth All Night Long

Image
This Christmas I was moved by the words of Frederick Buechner.  For my last blog of the year I offer to you his wisdom rather than my own ramblings.  I hope it does for you what it continues to do for me. Frederick Buechner says in his book The Faces of Jesus: On the dark bulwark of Elsinore, Shakespeare has Marcellus and Haratio reflecting on Christ in the opening scene of Hamlet: Some say that ever ‘gainst that season comes Wherein our Savior’s birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long; And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad, The nights are wholesome, then no planets strike, No fairly takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallowed and so gracious is the time These lines from the first scene of Hamlet in a sense say it all.  We tend to think time is just progression . . . as moment following moment, day following day, in relentless flow, the kind of time a clock or calendar measures.  But we experience time als
Read more

All Good Things Must Come to an End

Image
In the late 1300s Geoffrey Chaucer coined the phrase, “All good things must come to an end.” This phrase means more to me right now than it ever has before. This week is my last week as pastor at Union Baptist Church in Pine Mountain, Georgia. Out of all my accomplishments, opportunities, and memories, pastoring UBC has been one of, if not, the best. For three years I have traveled alongside this community of grace through celebrations such as birthday parties, weddings, worship services, homecomings, Fall Festivals, baptisms, and so much more. I have also traveled alongside more sincere moments of pain, tragedy, and anguish; for I have counseled families through deaths, hardships, work-related problems, spirit-related inquiries, sadness, depression, anger, surgeries, confusion, and even wonderment. Collectively, these shared stories, these real and emotionally significant memories, have shaped who I am and how I see myself in the world. This decision to leave UBC do
Read more