Ezekiel 8:3 The Spirit transported me to the north gate of the inner courtyard of the Temple in Jerusalem …
Acts 8:39-40 When Philip and the eunuch came up out of the water [after Philip baptized the eunuch], the Spirit of the Lord snatched Philip away. The eunuch never saw him again but went on his way rejoicing. Meanwhile, Philip found himself farther north at the town of Azotus. He preached the Good News there and in every town along the way until he came to Caesarea.
Getting from point A to point B in the city of São Paulo, Brazil (22 million people in one metropolis) can be tricky. Once after Dave traveled to another part of Brazil, a pastor friend died. Dave asked me to attend the funeral in his place. The catch: I would have to drive to the (for me) confusing and intimidating eastern zone of the city.
A view of one slice of São Paulo
I dropped our kids off at school and started out. I didn’t have a cell phone or GPS. I had a thick book of maps, each one a small piece of the city. The night before, I had pored over the maps, figuring out which page to go to from the previous page to take me to my destination. As you can imagine, this is much easier to manage with a navigator next to you!
On my way, I nervously watched at one intersection a car being burglarized. (Whenever possible, one doesn’t stop at intersections in São Paulo). A kilometer or so later, a car in flames in the middle of an intersection stopped traffic in all directions. I had to recalculate my carefully charted map plan to accommodate this detour, and then another: a road closure for construction. And then another, this time a three-car accident.
When I finally arrived at the church, the service was over, and mourners had moved to the cemetery. I navigated to the cemetery and found the correct grave site, only to see the last cars departing. I wasn’t able even to greet the pastor’s family to convey our condolences.
I took a deep breath, recalculated my return trip, and set out once again, arriving at our children’s school late enough to cause them anxiety. No cell phone, remember? As they climbed into the car (“Mommy, where were you?”), I sat trembling, so grateful I had made it back safely: no accident, no burglary, no car theft or breakdown, no getting lost—thanks to my trusty book of maps. Just a “wasted” day filled with “Lord, help me! Protect me!” prayers.
So, when I read about the Holy Spirit picking up Ezekiel and transporting him from place to place (eight times! Ezekiel 2:2, 3:12, 3:14, 8:3, 11:1, 11:24, 37:1, 43:5) and recall our long days of travel last week to Bogotá and back, I feel just a bit jealous. Except for the one where the Spirit took Ezekiel by the hair (8:3). And I’m not sure I want my destination to be a valley filled with dry bones (37:1), even in this month of Halloween, the American holiday I have never understood.
The thing is, God showed Ezekiel something important at each of the places he found himself snatched away to. So, I asked, “What did I learn from my apparently worthless trek across São Paulo?” I failed in my mission—to offer solidarity and comfort to the grieving family of a friend. I caused my children considerable anxiety when I didn’t show up at the end of their school day.
I realize now, though, two things: I have deep empathy for those who must drive to work in São Paulo every day, like my son-in-law. Moreover, I recognize that at no moment in that solitary challenge was I alone. The Holy Spirit accompanied, steadied, and guided me and brought me home safely. I see this now as a “dry run” for so many times after that when I had to navigate life alone, especially during the difficult Karis years when each day held enormous challenges.
But no, I wasn’t alone. For the Holy Spirit faithfully shepherded me, through each moment and each place Karis’s journey took us.
But Jesus will turn sadness into joy Lenten question #17 April 17
John 16:16-22 [Jesus said] “In a little while you won’t see me anymore. But a little while after that, you will see me again.” The disciples asked each other, “What does he mean? … We don’t understand.” Jesus realized they wanted to ask him about it, so he said, “Are you asking yourselves what I meant? … I tell you the truth, you will weep and mourn over what is going to happen to me, but the world will rejoice. You will grieve, but your grief will suddenly turn to wonderful joy. … I will see you again; then you will rejoice, and no one can rob you of that joy.”
Our Lenten roses, in full bloom
This will be the last twenty questions post until after Easter, since Jesus asked the last three questions after his resurrection. As Jesus forewarned his disciples about the grief they would feel at his crucifixion, he also told them that horrific event would not be the end of the story.
Soon they would experience their world falling apart. Despite all of Jesus’ warnings along the way, the disciples reacted to Jesus’s arrest, judgment, and death as any of us do to threat and trauma: by “freeze” (their paralysis in the Garden of Gethsemane), by trying to fight (Peter), and by flight (most of them). In his fear, Peter denied knowing Jesus. All of them felt a combination of guilt and despair. Judas killed himself. Others went back to what was safe and familiar (fishing). Thomas lacked the courage to believe the good news when it came. Like Peter and John, he had to see it for himself.
The women, though—including Jesus’s mother—stuck by him. Along with John, they pushed through the mocking crowd close enough to the cross to converse with Jesus as he hung in agony. They witnessed his death.
Did the women remember and believe what he had said, that they would see him again, in great joy? We’re not told. But, like Mary of Bethany (Mark 14:8), they did what they could; they embraced the positive action that was available to them. Still wanting to serve and care for Jesus, they went to his tomb on Sunday, as soon as they could after observing the Sabbath.
Imagine the thrill of the angel, the stone rolled back, the empty tomb, their next task (“Go and tell his disciples”)—and then Jesus, alive! meeting Mary Magdalene in the garden.
Let’s allow ourselves to take part in the narrative, to feel what they felt on that Passover weekend, as the Lamb of God was sacrificed so that his shed blood would protect us from death. With the women and John, let’s find the courage to stand by Jesus at the cross.
And let’s remember it’s OK to ask our questions. Whatever hard place you are in right now, draw near and share your grief and doubts and fears and confusion with the Lord. He understands and welcomes us. We may not be capable of understanding, yet.
Hebrews 13:5-6 God has said, “I will never fail you. I will never abandon you.” So we can say with confidence, “The Lord is my helper, so I will have no fear. What can mere people do to me?”
1 John 4:16-18 We know how much God loves us, and we have put our trust in his love. … Such love has no fear, because perfect love expels all fear.”
Some people had trouble posting responses to the question in my last blog (no idea why—I hope it fixes itself) and wrote me by email. I asked Elaine whether I could quote part of what she wrote:
“Fearing God eliminates our other fears. As John says, his perfect love removes them. And Romans 8 is so beautiful in affirming that nothing can separate us from his love. So both of these things give me peace no matter what crazy and terrible things are going on.”
I’ve been thinking about this, and how it works in my life practically. Last week, I said to a friend, “I lived in fear for thirty years—the thirty years of Karis’s life. Her wellbeing turned on a dime. I walked in high alert. She could be well in the morning and fighting for her life in the ICU by afternoon. All plans were held loosely …”
Evaluate with me the statement that I “lived in fear for thirty years.” On the face of the Scriptures quoted above and Elaine’s affirmation, it seems I was telling my friend I didn’t trust God or his love. Some of the most profound hurts that I suffered were from people telling me (who didn’t live the Karis reality 24/7 or understand more than surface facts about what it entailed) that I was in sin because I was afraid.
Is it true that in my fear I didn’t trust God? I don’t think so. Is it possible there is a difference between fear in response to specific frightening circumstances, and fear as an existential state that bars us from the comfort God can give us? It was exactly because I trusted God that I could express my fears to him. I knew that HE would not stand apart and judge me or criticize my “spirituality.” He instead walked with me through the dark valleys.
Fear is, after all, an emotion that warns us of trouble or threat. It helps us recognize when all is not well; when action needs to be taken. Healthy, appropriate fear can save us from taking life-threatening risks. We teach our children not to run into the street without looking both ways, because cars can kill them. It’s appropriate to fear what wind and waves can do to us (yes, there are family stories behind this example, that involve exhaustion and jellyfish stings and … ). We call someone “foolhardy” when they choose to swim despite red high hazard signs on the beach (thinking of you, David Kornfield). Having no fear can literally kill us.
Another thought: Often fear is linked to our sense of impotence, our lack of control over circumstances or other people’s choices. Sometimes this leads to blaming God for things that happen to us or to people we care about. What does it mean to me in my everyday life that God is in control of the universe? Doesn’t he see me? If he loves me, and has all power, why doesn’t he act to remove my suffering or the suffering of others? This age-old question is called “theodicy.” Suffering forces us into asking these questions.
As you can tell, I’m not offering any pat answers here. I want to engage you in thinking more deeply about your own suffering, your own fears. And whether peace, biblical all-encompassing shalom, is a reality in your life, and if so, what pathway you walked to discover and experience the “perfect love that expels all fear.” Join the conversation!
Isaiah 41:9-10 [The Lord says] “I have chosen you and will not throw you away. Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you up with my victorious right hand. … For I hold you by your right hand—I, the Lord your God. And I say to you, ‘Don’t be afraid. I am here to help you.’”
Isaiah 41 lit up for me this week because two dear Pittsburgh friends are stuck in Tel Aviv. They took a tour in Israel to celebrate their retirement, and their tour guide was called to active duty. Then their flight home was cancelled. Another reason to pray for God’s mercy, along with our prayers for both Israelis and Palestinians caught in the crossfire with Hamas.
Matthew 28:11-15 As the women were on their way [to tell the disciples Jesus was alive!], some of the guards went into the city and told the leading priests what had happened [the earthquake, the angel, the stone rolled away, Jesus gone from the tomb]. A meeting with the elders was called, and they decided to give the soldiers a large bribe. They told the soldiers, “You must say, ‘Jesus’ disciples came during the night while we were sleeping, and they stole his body.’ If the governor hears about it, we’ll stand up for you so you won’t get in trouble.” So the guards accepted the bribe and said what they were told to say. Their story spread widely among the Jews and they still tell it today.
Hebrews 11:26, 13:5-6 Moses thought it was better to suffer for the sake of Christ than to own the treasures of Egypt, for he was looking ahead to his great reward. … Don’t love money; be satisfied with what you have. For God has said, “I will never fail you, I will never abandon you.” So we can say with confidence, “The Lord is my helper, so I will have no fear: What can mere people do to me?”
Truth standing up to power is so rare my heart thrills when I see it happen. Especially when the consequences of not going along with deception is as serious as it would have been for these guards. Acts 12:19 indicates what the soldiers faced if they didn’t accept the bribe: execution. In our day, what’s at stake may be political death, loss of reputation and being shamed before a constituency, accusations of disloyalty, etc. We care so much about prestige, position, and prosperity in this world that we may be willing to sacrifice our integrity to preserve them.
I find Hebrews 13:6 (quoting Psalm 118:6) one of the most challenging verses in all of Scripture. For a long time, I’ve realized I am a coward. I don’t think I would be tempted by money. But if threatened by torture or death or by harm coming to my family, or even, I’m ashamed to say, by private or public contempt or defamation, I’m afraid I would respond more like the soldiers—or even like Peter, denying he knew the Lord—than like the heroes of the faith in Hebrews 11. I feel a chill in the pit of my stomach just thinking about it. I have confessed to the Lord I do fear what “mere people” could do to me. Or to those I love.
My hope is that should the time come, the Lord, my helper (my ezer), will be right at my side, giving me his courage by the Holy Spirit.
Meanwhile, I can cultivate and grow my love and loyalty to Jesus in first place in my life, above love for myself or even for my family. In small decisions along the way, strengthen my soul.
Acts 7:59-8:2 As the Jewish leaders stoned him, Stephen prayed, “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.” He fell to his knees, shouting, “Lord, don’t charge them with this sin!” And with that he died. Saul was one of the witnesses, and he agreed completely with the killing of Stephen. A great wave of persecution began that day … Some devout men came and buried Stephen with great mourning. But Saul was going everywhere to destroy the church. He went from house to house, dragging out both men and women to throw them into prison.
Romans 8:17, 26 If we are to share Christ’s glory, we must also share his suffering … But the Holy Spirit prays for us with groanings that cannot be expressed in words.
Covid is battering our friends across South America. Daily, it seems, we hear of another heart-rending situation involving people we know and love. So while we delight in the re-opening of our lives here in the U.S., thanks to life-saving vaccines, we’re reminded constantly that this pandemic is not over. Nor will be in the foreseeable future.
A pandemic is one thing. Suffering people deliberately inflict on each other, as Saul did to the early church, is even more painful, especially if God’s holy name is used to justify wounding and destruction. Sadly, this is nothing new. I’m grappling with bitter historical realities in my research for Treasure Hunt 1904.
But God had a plan for Saul, and we’ll get to that in the next chapter of Acts. The time came when Saul, known later as Paul, wrote, “In my insolence, I persecuted God’s people. But God had mercy on me. Oh, how generous and gracious our Lord was!” (1 Timothy 1:13). God offers mercy and hope of transformation to anyone willing to hear his voice of compassion. Even the perpetrators. Inexplicably, he loves our broken world.
Paul continues telling Timothy that despite human arrogance, “He alone is God” (verse 17). God’s not rattled by my sense that the world (and even the church) has gone crazy. He’s still on his throne–remember Stephen’s vision? He has a plan.
So I offer to you, Lord, my sorrow and grief, my anger at what I see as manipulative and unjust, my worry about what’s happening in the U.S. and the world, my frustration with my own limited vision and frail faith.
And now maybe I can go back to sleep.
Deer again ate my pansies–though not down to the dirt this time.
Debra Kornfield 