A kind of confession, a kind of revelation

 (this is a scene from a story I am working on)

“I know. I know, my boy.  So it seems. Hopeless.  But think of this. When Abraham was about to lose everything, God sent an angel to comfort him and stop his hand. When Moses was cast into the desert, a burning bush appeared to him and when Job was utterly lost and without hope –even from his friends—what happened?”

“What?”

“God answered him.  Not in words, not in reasons, but by revelation. God revealed Himself to Job. That was His answer. Job was a good man who suffered unjustly –we would say—suffered not because he had done anything wrong, but simply because bad things happened to him.  And what was the result, my dear?”

“Yes.”

“What was the result?”

“Yes.” Henry felt his chest begin to tremble. The sense of emotion and anxiety and dread and a sudden euphoric joy overwhelmed him. His voice broke as he repeated, “Yes.”

“Oh dear. Yes. You’re right. It was something beyond. A vision of God’s splendor. You’ve heard people speak of the transcendent, haven’t you?  Yes. Dear me. I know you have. You’re not a fool. I know that.  But, do you understand? God didn’t answer Job in human terms. Not in the way that Job and his friend were thinking of an answer. No. They were all good men, so to speak. Don’t you imagine? They all had good intentions. But God said to Job: Gird up your loins, and then as… well, by way of… yes, well, then He… what does God do? He… well, He challenges Job. But, you understand. Don’t you, my dear? You understand God wasn’t being mean. He wasn’t belittling Job.  No. No. Dear me. God doesn’t work that way. He was simply, and transcendently –yes. Yes. Very transcendentally… revealing Himself in all His splendor… all His glory.  Think about those images: the storehouse of the snow, the pedestals of the earth, the great and terrible behemoth –Who can put a hook in his nose?—and the birthing of the gentle mountain goat… the womb of the seas, telling the water it may come this far and no more… Do you understand? It’s all so amazing and wonderful. It’s all so awesome in the actual sense of that word. Not like the kids would say: an awesome movie! You know? But awesome in the sense of, well… awe inspiring. Truly awe inspiring. And what happens? What does Job do?”

“He places his hand over his mouth…”

“Yes. Yes. That’s right and he says though I spoke before I will not speak again. He is truly and utterly…”

“Yes…” Henry whispered.

“Yes. Yes. That’s it.  People often think this is because Job realized he shouldn’t challenge God. He shouldn’t ask God to defend Himself.  But that’s all wrong. People often mistakenly say that the answer Job gets is that things are too big for people, even someone as great as Job, to understand. As if God were chastising Job and putting him in his place.  As if God were saying to Job: what right have you to question me?  But Job isn’t a book about an inscrutable God and His unfathomable ways.  It is a book about suffering –though ultimately, you see, not about misery—No. No.  It’s about the power of suffering. The –what does Peter call it? …the refiner’s fire. Job endures the refiner’s fire. Unjust sufferings, seemingly endless miseries, and never learns why… and yet in the end what happens?”

Henry simply stared, unable to speak.

“He gets a glimpse of the truth; of God’s glory.  Don’t you see?”

“Yes.” He whispered.

“Is it possible? Is it possible, my dear friend, that God reveals Himself through His cross? Through the cross we come to understand God. Through our own part in that cross we come to understand Him; not intellectually. I don’t mean that. But to –in a way—taste a moment of His –what? Glory? I think taste might be a better word because we don’t really think of understanding a cheeseburger, but when we taste it we know what it is and we even know something of its splendor. If it’s a good one, of course. I have to say I do like a good cheeseburger. Yes. Ruby Red. Oh, the peanuts. Yes. Oh dear. Oh dear. I miss Ruby Reds.”

Henry chuckled. “Yes, Father. Me too.”

“I just… oh dear, me.  But. Do you understand what I am trying to say? I am trying to say that perhaps the story of Job isn’t about the suffering itself but about the experience; and in the end --do you see?—it’s about what comes of it.  Is it possible, dear dear Henry. I know I’m not supposed to know who you are, but you know I do. I’m sorry.  I do.  Is it possible that what you are going through, and of course it is a kind of crucible, I know that. I know. Yes. I know.  Oh dear… But is it possible that God is trying to reveal Himself to you? through this? Through your wife’s suffering. Through your job? Through your struggle? Even and maybe especially through your brother. Oh, dear Henry. You are Job.  If ever I knew one, you...  I pray for you often. Daily. I do. But, am I just like one of Job’s friends? Am I just a foolish old priest making pompous statements about things I don’t understand? Oh, Henry. I don’t know. I don’t know anything. Don’t listen to me. What do I know about wives and sufferings. I was an only child and now I’m an old priest. And you, you my son… I think you are a saint. In the making, at least. Oh dear. Dear. Dear, me. I’m sorry. Sometimes I just say things. I don’t know why.  Do you pray to Joseph? Pray to Saint Joseph. If anyone will understand your troubles, it will be him. Pray to him now. As your act of contrition. Please. Let us do this together. Both of us.”

What's in your ark?

“The waters swelled, lifting the ark
until it floated off the ground…”  -Genesis 7:17b

The ark floated off the ground.  It rose up –and then, as the waters rose, swelling, it floated away.  The ark is what survives the flood. The ark and all that is in it. So, what we put in the ark is very important.  And I am pondering now… what have I put in my ark?

Think back to the original story. What did God have Noah put in his ark? Two of every living thing, male and female.  All life. All living things. Basically, God told Noah to value life; every living thing, from the wisest owl to the dumbest ox, from the mighty elephant to the lowly mouse, predator and prey—all living things. Life itself. Put it in your ark! Protect it. Value it. And when the flood waters came and the ark floated of the ground, that was what was saved. Life itself, that was what was in Noah’s ark.  What is in your ark?  That’s what I am asking myself these days. Like that commercial—What’s in your wallet?

What’s in your ark?  I think that is a question I couldn’t have imagined before this flood. Without the surreal experience of the past few days, I wouldn’t have realized the importance of this very basic, very essential question.

Yesterday we went back to Carol’s house (my mother-in-law).  We wanted to see if the water had gone down and we could get into her house and salvage a few things. Instead we learned that the water had risen. The knee-deep water from Sunday was now perhaps waist or even chest deep in places. And, while he was checking our ID, the policeman who was there told us to be careful. An alligator had been spotted in the water on one of the streets.  So, instead of going into her house we stood around –about ½ a mile away—just staring at the vastness of the water and thinking about all the things we should have got out of the house on Sunday morning –when we still had the chance.  And astonished that this is what our world had come to –the flood waters rose, they swelled, and there was nothing we could do about it…

But standing there, we were approached by a City of Houston worker who had just been talking to another woman. He came over to us and asked us where our house was.  Lynne explained to him she was hoping to get into her mother’s house but it was too deep. He asked for the address and she told him and he handed her his phone. He said there were pictures on it of all the houses on the flooded streets.  He told her she could look through the pictures and send any that were helpful to herself. At least you’ll have that for insurance purposes, he said. He showed her how to navigate through the pictures and how to select them and send one to herself. Then he left his phone with her and walked away to check on someone else.  When she finally found a picture, it was frightening. The water looked like it was over halfway up the front wall of the house. Maybe 5 feet deep.

As we stood there, a few other neighbors were gathering nearby and staring at the water with us and another man and his small boy came over and asked if any of us wanted to borrow his canoe and go in and take pictures of our houses.  He said someone else had just borrowed it, but when that person got back we could take a turn.  His little boy, maybe 8 years old, offered to go for us if we didn’t know how to paddle a canoe.  

Think about that: all over Houston in small and great and even heroic ways people are offering help, even putting their own lives at risk to help one another.

“The flood waters swelled, lifting the ark until it floated…”

What are you you putting in your ark?

The other side of this is: as we drove up to try and check on my mother-in-law’s house, the policeman was there at the barricade checking IDs. Certainly, he might have been there to make sure no one accidentally drove into the waters; protecting us from our own foolishness. Wen he told us about the alligator we laughed.  He didn’t.  I suspect, more than anything, he was there to protect the almost abandoned neighborhood from looters.  The news keeps warning us about looters and scammers who are coming to these troubled places to take advantage of a horrible situation.

“The flood waters swelled, and the ark floated off the ground…”

When the flood waters swell, your ark will begin to float… what will be in it?

There is another ark in the Bible. The one that Moses builds. In the days of Noah and the flood, God tells Noah to place all living things in it.  In the days of the Exodus, He had Moses build another Ark as a dwelling place for His own presence among His people. Put the thing you value most in the ark. Life. God… What do you value most?

In both places God gives pretty detailed directions for the ark’s construction; He is clearly concerned with the making of the Ark. But I think that may be because He is even more concerned with what we put inside it.  And because He knows that the floodwaters are coming. They always do.  And God knows that whatever we put in that ark, that is what will survive the flood.   That is what will begin to float when the flood waters swell.  What are you putting in your ark?  Yesterday my wife gave the keys to one of our cars to a friend who had to be rescued in the middle of the night from her flooding house.   And before that she learned that a neighbor needed formula her baby and we were off to the store.  What will survive your flood? Faith, love, generosity, kindness, compassion, courage, a reassuring smile? or will it be: selfishness, greed, cunning and hate?   In Houston, mostly we have seen only the good –but in places, sadly, we have seen all of these floating in the flood waters around us.

Like the commercial asks: What’s in your ark?

A devouring fire --The glory of the Lord on the mountain

“To the watching Israelites, the glory of the Lord looked like a
devouring fire on the mountain top. Moses went right into
the cloud and on up the mountain. Moses stayed on the
mountain for forty days and forty nights.” --Exodus 24:17

A devouring fire? What could that mean? And why does the author say that it looked like a devouring fire to those watching? For me, I hear in this at least two meanings that speak to my life. First, there is the fact that “the glory of the Lord” may look to the world like a devouring fire, and our desire to walk toward it may look like foolishness to some and the sight of it may be a fearful stumbling block to others (cf. 1 Corinthians 1:23). The glory of the Lord is not for the faint hearted, one might say. But, if we pay attention to the context of this part of Exodus we know that what looks like a “devouring fire” to the watching Israelites, is --in actuality-- the glory of God. And Moses is not harmed by it. Not a hair of his head.

But, on the other hand, the glory of God truly is –I’m certain-- a devouring fire, though one we should not fear, but should rejoice in. As St. Peter tells us in his first letter, “In this you may rejoice, though, for a time, you must bear all sorts of trials; so that the worth of your faith, more precious than gold, which perishes even if it has been tested by fire, may be proven…” (cf. 1 Peter 1:7).

So what is being devoured when we walk into the glory of the Lord? Into God’s devouring fire? I suspect it is our ego, our pride, our sin –the dross that clings to us. For me, it is –it must be—the “I wants,” that still cling to me and that I too often cling to and clutch at so desperately. I want to be successful. I want to be honored. I want to be loved. I want to be comfortable. I want to be prosperous. I want to be free of sickness. I want a Beck’s Prime veggie burger and a ½ pound of fries with a large Vanilla malted! And a bag of popcorn and a root beer and a new pair of sneakers and cats that don’t tear up the house and a car that never needs repairs and…. And one of those drinks with the little pink umbrellas… and that paddle ball thing, too. I want that, too!

And yet, still, I wonder: what is the devouring fire in my own life? Is it the difficulties I’ve had at work? Loss of autonomy? Changes that feel like trials? Or is it my loss of the diaconate? The humbling trial of being told I wasn’t called to this vocation that I had begun to identify with so intimately… I felt devoured after the meeting when I was told I was being dropped from the program. I felt devoured and spit out. And for almost two years now I have had to humble myself and accept it, and try to hold onto my faith, my love of God, my commitment to His church and to do His will. And it has been hard. It has been painful. It has felt –at times—quite fearful and quite foolish. I have been asked, why I don’t just change religions or join another church? Why don’t I become a Methodist (for instance) and then I can be a minister and have my own church –if I want! And yet, I have remained. I have remained where God has lead me and I wait upon the Lord. I wait within the devouring fire of his glory –trusting that in His glory, I will not be harmed –only tested and made stronger. I am also learning that forty days and forty nights is “God speak” for “this may take a while.”

Ask yourself: what is the devouring fire in your life? Where is God calling you to something hard, to do something painful, something humbling, something that requires you to let go of your wants, your plans, your very self and be more fully dependent on Him? More fully His? Is your devouring fire a troubled relationship that you must humble yourself to mend? Is it a difficulty at work that requires you to let go of some power or some position you worked hard to achieve? Is it a longing for popularity or glory that you can’t let go of? Is there a hurt you must let go of? A disappointment? A loss? A loneliness you cannot fathom?

Do not be afraid to enter into the glory of the Lord, even though it looks to all the world like a devouring fire; as the great poet Jane Kenyon once wrote: God does not leave us comfortless… Whether God calls you up the mountain, or He calls you to come to Him walking on the water –accept His invitation. Go to Him. Do not be afraid. God is waiting; in what looks like a devouring fire, He is waiting just for you.