Of Ways Divine and Human

"My ways are not your ways, and my thoughts are not your thoughts"
Isaiah 55:8

In all things human, the temptation when faced by words of challenge from God is to point God's finger at the other. The Democrat rails against the Republican; the Theocrat against the Secularist: 'God's ways aren't your ways! You're ways are wrong!'

This is not new; it is as old as Genesis 3 and Adam blaming Eve blaming the snake. We all have a deeply held desire to be right. The religious among us, especially pastors, have strong opinions about God, Jesus, and the Bible. Who can blame them? If God is God, then who would not want to speak rightly of Him? What would the consequences be of saying false things of Him?

The Liberal tradition of Christian theology deserves much respect. It was this branch of Christian thinking that resulted in women's ordination, the abolition of slavery, renewed care for social justice, and so forth.

However, I have noticed a basic presumption among peers who espouse it, in which they radically reinterpret Scripture if they consider it to be offensive to them. Stories of God's wrath, judgment, violence, plagues, and rejection of people are recieved at best with uncomfortable squirming - a fine reaction to such stories I'll admit. However, there is a propensity to alter the clear content of texts to suit their preconceived notions about God - though this too is an old Christian pattern, dating back to Marcion of the 2nd Century.

I challenge all to take Scripture seriously. Let it speak for itself. Hear it in its entirety. Don't reinterpret texts that don't suit you - are you God? Do you know the mind of God? Are you so wise as to rewrite, redact, or edit the Bible yourself? No.

If God's ways are truly different from our ways, then God must be different from the vegan, the pacifist, and the liberal just as much as from the NRA, the war hawk, and the conservative. Scripture challenges all of these people and views alike and gives none a stamp of approval. And if you haven't encountered a concept in the Bible which deeply challenges your convictions about God or the world in the past month, then you haven't been reading it broadly or closely enough. God challenges everyone through this book of books - let Him challenge you with it too. You only cheat yourself if you reinterpret it to suit your comfort.

And so, as I complain about the failures I see in my theological enemies, I must also confess that God's ways are not my ways either. That my desire to see God spoken of rightly fails ultimately. That I too have blasphemed the Lord I love so imperfectly.

And so, at the end of words and striving, I cry:
"Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on us all;
You are our only hope."

The blood of whom?

Oh, it was a day that memories are made of...
The pastor of this particular internship church wasn't going to be there on Sunday, so he found a substitute pastor to do the liturgy while I preached. That substitute himself had a family emergency at the last minute, so he told me to just take care of preaching and liturgy both. I stumbled through the liturgy since it was my first time at this church with it's own traditions, but it was okay.

Then, as I walked back to the altar, going around the communion rail, I ran into a piece of church architecture, beautiful old hardwood, that came to a solid point an inch above my temple. Smack. Not one of those ones where it was a dull thud that you shake off. It felt like a classic 'sickening smack' where I could tell that the skin had been pierced. I managed not to curse in front of the church as they sang 'Let the vineyards be fruitful..." - good thing I think. I tried checking my face, but found no blood, so I thought the leaking feeling I was perceiving was mistaken.

I distributed communion uneventfully enough. Then, someone brought me a tissue after communion. Apparently, I had been bleeding all through communion, with blood seeping down through my hair, right over my right temple.

I can only imagine what people were thinking as they received the body and blood of Christ. Talk about an object lesson.

The rest of yesterday was marked by me feeling, thinking, and driving as though I had been mildly concussed. I went to the hospital to be safe, but with no memory loss or apparent brain damage, all they decided to do was to staple shut the lacerations I got from the collision. It looked pretty neat actually. It looked like three red lines radiating out from the center point - like I had run into the point of a square.

However, I survived.

What a Sunday...