The Road to Hope--Romans 5:1-5

Paul writes that "... suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope..." (Romans 5:3-4)

Suffering can lead you down one of two roads. You can go spiraling down that steep, curvy road that passes through anger, self-pity, bitterness and ends up in despair--that is, hopelessness. This, if truth be told, is the path of least resistance when suffering is encountered. It feels like the natural progression. In the classic old story, Job's wife advises him to curse God and die. Given Job's troubles, that seems reasonable. Who would blame him?

The other road, of course, is the one Paul describes. It is a narrow, uphill, rocky road that passes through endurance and character on the way to hope. Even on this road, getting sidetracked for a time on the road that leads to hopelessness is common. Paul knew this personally. But still, the road to hope is the road to life, and it is offered to all of us as a possibility, even in the darkest of circumstances, because of all the benefits God has showered upon us. Paul mentions some of them in these opening verses of Romans 5: Justified by faith, having peace with God, having obtained access to grace, standing in grace, and God's love has been poured into our hearts.

These are the reasons that the gate to the road to hope is open and the road is passable and why hope can be experienced even amid suffering. Granted, sometimes it is a bit of a journey to get there. And the traveling is arduous, without a doubt. But God's presence never leaves us and God's benefits are never exhausted. We can move forward. As a Benedictine nun once advised the writer Kathleen Norris during a dark time: "When you come to a place where you have to go left or right, go straight ahead."

Jesus' Bizarre Prayer Request, John 17:20-26

How do you feel when someone prays for you outloud and you didn't even request prayer? Are you comforted or do you feel intruded upon? Maybe it depends somewhat on what the pray-er asks for on your behalf.

I wonder how the disciples felt when Jesus interceded for them in the 17th chapter of John's gospel. This is the part of the gospel we refer to as Jesus' farewell discourse. Here, Jesus prays for his disciples just before his death. I bet the disciples felt strange though during this prayer. After all, it was not like our intercessory prayers. Now if the Son of God was going to pray for me, I'd really like him to petition God for my health, financial security, joyful family life, health and happiness for those I love, and my happiness and safety. Throw in a request for open parking spaces close to the front door of the church each time I head down there in the evenings, and I'd be ecstatic. Now that would be a prayer!

Jesus doesn't pray like that for his disciples. Rather, he offers a bizarre petition: "As you, Father, are in me and I in you, may they also be in us, so the world may believe that you have sent me" (vs. 21). Jesus prays that his followers would be drawn into the life of the Holy Trinity. This, of course, is not your usual petition. The reality being referred to is deeply mystical. It's hard to wrap your head around. The Johannine theology is wondrous: The Father sends the Son to humanity precisely so that the Son may draw all humanity into the relationship that exists between Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

Whatever the status of your life is right now. Whether the glass is half empty or half full or pretty close to downright empty, you reside in God. Even all your seeking, doubts and uncertanties are experienced while in the security of the Trinity's joyful dance of relationship.

Think about that for awhile.

Leviathan--God's Pet Dragon

As an epilogue to our Blessing of the Animals, I offered a reflection on Psalm 104 today. It is a psalm extolling God's wonderful creation, especially animal life. The reading was especially poignant today, hearing the psalmist stand amazed at the "deep wide sea, brimming with fish past counting" as we all with heavy hearts consider the damage to marine life occuring now in the Gulf of Mexico. Humans continue to use and destroy rather than bless and nurture the creation.

This psalm is powerfully beautiful yet very odd. Consider the mention of Leviathan in verse 26. In other Old Testament books, Leviathan is the monster that inhabits the chaotic, unordered watery depths. In Job, it represents the power and mystery of God's creation, unconquered and uncontrolled by human beings. In Isaiah, it is the enemy of God that God had to conquer to bring order to the earth and overcome chaos. Yet in this psalm, Leviathan is God's pet dragon who romps in the waters (The Message). It is not scary at all. It is playful. It is God's playmate.

In verse 31, the psalmist calls God to rejoice in or enjoy God's creation. This is very strange language. No where else in the Psalms is God encouraged or called upon to rejoice or enjoy creation, God's own work. Humans are usually called upon to rejoice in God or enjoy God. The implication is that all of creation is upheld by God's joy. God delights in what God has made, and that delight is the very energy and vibrancy of the universe. This is very different than God as understood in the Noah story, for instance, where God regrets creation because of human wickedness and vows, after the flood, to restrain God's self from ever destroying the world again. It seems to be a commitment made with a sigh of resignation. Whereas Genesis paints a picture of God who sustains creation through an act of self-constraint, this psalm says that creation is sustained by divine revelry.

I like this playful, joyful God proclaimed by the psalmist. What about you?