It's Story Time

I was in the café line at Borders the other day and I dropped my keys. When I stood back up a man had blatantly cut in front of me. I wasn’t the only one to notice, the two baristas behind the counter did as well. The baristas kept looking at him and then giving me their best raised eyebrows suggesting, “You’re gonna let him get away with that?” The man took his latte and I was now up. Before I could even order, a barista said, “Why did you let that guy do that to you? He completely cut you off. Why’d you let him get away with that?”

I smiled and said, “Seriously. I’m not that important.” The simplicity was inviting. The silence of the barista was inviting. For those three extra minutes that I spent behind the man, I was not losing anything and he was not getting away with anything. I was being liberated from thinking that I have more value as a human being than he does. My defection was freedom.

*I thought a narrative might be a fresh interjection.-JPB

On God’s power in Christ’s weakness

Epistle of Diognetus 7:3-9(c. 170 AD) : “This [messenger] He sent to them. Was it then, as one might conceive, for the purpose of exercising tyranny, or of inspiring fear and terror? By no means, but under the influence of clemency and meekness. As a king sends his son, who is also a king, so sent He Him; as God. He sent Him; as to men He sent Him; as a Saviour He sent Him, and as seeking to persuade, not to compel us; for violence has no place in the character of God. As calling us He sent Him, not as vengefully pursuing us; as loving us He sent Him, not as judging us. For He will yet send Him to judge us, and who shall endure His appearing?... Do you not see them exposed to wild beasts, that they may be persuaded to deny the Lord, and yet not overcome? Do you not see that the more of them are punished, the greater becomes the number of the rest? This does not seem to be the work of man: this is the power of God; these are the evidences of His manifestation.”

If you enjoyed this and want to read more from this letter, see the first comment below.

Would you eliminate pain if you could?

This is not intended to be a thorough theology of suffering. Nor is it intended to solve the perennial philosophical problem of pain. It is, however, intended as an open musing on our propensity to avoid pain. (Thank you Nick, from Loganville, GA, for sharing your story of pain over lunch yesterday. You are now a better man than when we met three years ago. I delight that you are no longer pain-free.)

Pain is generally our greatest vehicle to humility, prayer, and gentleness. I'm not sure I'm willing to do away with it. Pain is the inevitable result of freewill. Without freewill, we lose much of what it means to be human, to have dignity, to be self-determinate beings. I'm not sure I'm willing to do away with that. Pain is our greatest warning that something is terribly wrong. Without it, both our physical bodies would be destroyed as well as our souls. Without pain there would be little impetus for repentance, self-care, or transformation. I'm not sure I'm willing to do without it. Pain puts us in our place. It causes us to realize our creatureliness and cry out for the presence of God. Without it we would feel autonomous, independent, and arrogant. Pain appears to be a necessary concomitant of and foundation for self-abnegation. I'm not sure I'm willing to do without it. In God's upside-down economy, perhaps pain is a great, albeit underappreciated, gift.