Abandoment and hating God: What do you do when you feel that God is your greatest foe?

I have never been able to relate to Jesus, the God, very well. The Jesus who steps up to a tomb and calls forth a dead man back to life is a person I find difficult to comprehend. Whether he's feeding 5000 men, women and children, picking prostitutes up off of dusty streets, healing the sick or causing blind men to see and dead men to live or forgiving sins, it is just beyond me. And, to be honest, I don't think that I would be here today if that was the only portrait of him that I see in scripture. It's not that I don't or can't believe in those things, because I can and do. But, intimately, I need a Savior with a bit more vulnerability so that I can trust that he understands and knows what I am going through.

So, when I think of Jesus, the portrait that comes to mind the most is that of a man, who starts out from Pilate's condemnation, carrying his own cross. Notice how John puts it:

So they took Jesus and led him away.
17 Carrying the cross by himself, Jesus went to the place called Skull Hill (in Hebrew, Golgotha).

John 19:16-17 (NLT, emphasis added)

We wouldn't know this if it wasn't for the other men's renditions of the story, but both Matthew and Luke (and we'll ignore Mark with it's questionable ending for a moment) both name a man, a Cyrene (North Africa), named Simon, who was in Jerusalem that day, obviously there to observe the Passover. Because of the severe beating and loss of blood that Jesus endured, he falters and stumbles along that cobble stone path to Golgotha. Most likely being tapped on the shoulder with a Roman spear, Simon was compelled to lift the heavy beam off of Jesus' back and carry it to its final destination.

It is this portrait that comes to mind the most when I reflect upon Jesus and who he is. I can relate to that; I have stumbled myself many times under the weight of that cross, not being able to take another step forward without help.

As I was praying this morning, I began to read Psalms 22; we all should know it well. It starts out with that harrowing cry that Jesus made on the cross when he said:

1 My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?

Psalms 22:1 (KJV)

I read these words and as I did, I realized why the portrait of the suffering Savior is so appealing to me. And it's found in the above words. "Why, Why have you forsaken me?" For all my changing and getting clean and opening my heart once again to truths I had long abandoned, I realized that I was still crying those same words. Abandonment is a powerful thing. It can leave you destitute and lost, with little recourse to help yourself.

Let's listen to the Psalmist further, cause it really is an embodiment of the opening words of this chapter; that is, what it meant for David/Jesus to feel forsaken:

why art thou so far from helping me, and from the words of my roaring?
2 O my God, I cry in the daytime, but thou hearest not; and in the night season, and am not silent. [...] 6 But I am a worm, and no man; a reproach of men, and despised of the people.
7 All they that see me laugh me to scorn: they shoot out the lip, they shake the head, saying, 8 He trusted on the LORD that he would deliver him: let him deliver him, seeing he delighted in him. [...] 12 Many bulls have compassed me: strong bulls of Bashan have beset me round.
13 They gaped upon me with their mouths, as a ravening and a roaring lion.
14 I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint: my heart is like wax; it is melted in the midst of my bowels.
15 My strength is dried up like a potsherd; and my tongue cleaveth to my jaws; and thou hast brought me into the dust of death.
16 For dogs have compassed me: the assembly of the wicked have inclosed me: they pierced my hands and my feet.
17 I may tell all my bones: they look and stare upon me.
18 They part my garments among them, and cast lots upon my vesture.

Psalms 22:1a-2, 6-8, 12-17 (KJV)

Hear the anguish in these words interspersed throughout this chapter (there are others but this is enough to illustrate my point)? Allow me please, some latitude as I paraphrase some of these sayings. "Why are you not helping me?" Ever felt that way? I have! "Why are you so far from my crying?" The King James here uses the word roaring. Every time I read that, my mind goes immediately to the Garden of Gethsemane and I hear Jesus roaring, "If it be your will let this cup pass from me..." You don't bleed through your pores without allot of anguish!

"I cry to you day and night and you don't hear me." Translation: you might as well be a million miles away! "My plight brings pleasure to those who would harm me. I am despised and a reproach and men laugh at me and they hate me and no one wants to see me succeed. Look at him, he's pathetic. He cries to his God, but, let us see if his God will come. If you are a/the Son of God, take your own self off the cross--or let your God do it. Maybe then we'll believe in you.

"I am surrounded by dangerous animals!" Usually during Roman crucifixions, four Roman soldiers would box the condemned in and lead him to his death. This is the portrait here that David paints. "They've hurt me! Torn my flesh like roaring lions, my bones are dislodged and I am poured out like water upon the ground. My heart melts and my bowels (emotions) are rotting within me. I hurt!

I have no strength; I can no longer help myself. My jaws ache and my tongue cleaves to the roof of my mouth;" I can't pray anymore. "Dogs compass me about; men and women want to devour me and use me and throw me away." Incidentally, I've often wondered if Jesus looked down from the cross and seen anyone who he had healed or touched or ministered too during his sojourn among us? Just a parenthetical side note, but an interesting thought indeed.

"They have stripped me of my vesture and here I stand, naked and alone. Everything I have of value has been stripped away and I stand before all men, naked and alone and vulnerable." What a portrait of abandonment. I hope I've not depressed you already, because listen, I'm not done yet.

Prayer has been an interesting thing for me lately. I think I understand more fully what Paul was saying when he said that the Holy Spirit helps our infirmities, helping us pray with groaning/utterances which "can not be expressed in words." (Romans 8:26b, NLT) It really feels like I have not bowed for so long that when I do, all I can do is cry. So, there I am praying early this morning, crying again and not really able to express anything but remorse. And then He quickens my mind and I reach for my bible and open it to this chapter.

All of sudden, He spoke. (Let me just answer a critic that is reading this post today. If you can no longer believe in a God that can speak to the heart of man, then you need to fall on your face and ask God to once again show you who He is.) "Chris, you really need to let it go; you need forgive Me." Oh, I was shocked, almost horrified! "Oh, no, surely, I didn't hear that one right. I need to forgive my grandfather and my grandmother for never calling back before she died and colleagues who watched me crash and burn and wagged their finger at me with no consideration for their own vulnerability." All I can say here is,"Oh God, help me please!"

Every morning, most of the day, I bask in His mercy and love. I write these blogs and I feel good about where I am. But, all of sudden, I realized that what He said was true, and it humbled me beyond anything that you can imagine. All my life, at least from the moment I felt called to the ministry and then exploited by the very same church that should have nurtured and directed that call, I have felt lost, on that cross alongside my Savior, crying "why have you forsaken me..." I have faltered and been bowed down in shame under the weight of my calling and cross... and I realized this morning that I have despised God for it...

I understand now why I fought so hard to make myself believe that He really did not exist, at least as I had been taught to believe in Him. It was because I felt abandoned and forsaken. "You lead me to this cross; you put this burden upon me! All You've done is make a spectacle out of me before all who have ever known me. My addictions and failures and pain have all made me a laughing stock before the dogs and people who hate me and wish me nothing but harm. My cries, whether early in the morning or late at night, have all been ignored... and here I sit, with no recourse to help myself. I am broken and hurting and lost and you've been there watching me suffer, as if it pleased you to bruise me... How much more of me can be spilled upon the ground? My God, why have you forsake me?"

You say, "Chris, don't say these things! How arrogant of you to be angry at God!" But, you see, when I hear David and Jesus cry these words, I feel anger, pain, and loss. But, what I realized this morning is that I've never ever been able to make that transition from "why have you forsaken me" to "it is finished!" All the sermons I've preached over the years, prayers I've prayed over hurting people... I was able to comfort others, but myself, I could not save. While the Cross is an ongoing experience in the life of the Christian, it's death is meant to bring life and peace and satisfaction. And while I've always known that, it has never penetrated my heart.

I resisted; I got up from where I was kneeling and I began to walk and tell Him how sorry I was and that I forgive this person and that person and this church and this Bishop and this colleague... My wife and I were talking some time ago and we were discussing forgiveness. See, the people that I hate the most, and I have to own those feelings, are dead and buried and I can't get to them. I can't tell them what they did to me and how they hurt me. My lovely wife, a woman strong in spirit and discernment, told me that those people had stood before God and that God had let them know what they had done... As much as I despise them, I truly believe that they are in heaven, resting in God today. I know what my wife was saying and I believed it to be true, whether or not I wanted to hear it at the time or not.

In an instant, the Holy Spirit spoke to me again, almost ignoring what I was saying. "If you forgive Me, it will take care of them." Oh! "How can you say that to me? How can you be their eternal habitation? Didn't you see what they did to me? They're dogs and bulls and they compassed me about to harm and devour me...." Then came His reply, and I knew it well: "Father forgave them because they didn't know what they were doing...." They know now; they've seen me struggle and seen my pain in a different way; God the Father wiping their tears....

I struggle to bring this to a conclusion today. Tears stain my cheek and fall to the floor as I ponder these truths. The cross: the greatest instrument of torture in my life, that place where I have grown comfortable, accustomed to its pain and hurt and destruction. It's been a familiar place; its laments have been my life's overarching theme. But, I hear God today as I have never heard Him, and I forgive Him. Even as I write these words, I feel a release that I have never felt before. Sure, he didn't really do anything wrong, but I thought he did. Did Jesus really feel forsaken? Absolutely!

As I prayed with my wife last night, I mentioned the picture in Genesis 1 where its says the Spirit hovered over the deep: the expanse of destruction and nothingness. God spoke and the Spirit created. "Let there be light!" Thee Holy Spirit flung the sun, moon, and stars into the heavens. "Let there be dry land!" The Holy Spirit brushed back the waters and made land appear. I feel like I am that expanse of nothingness and He is making me anew, over, doing something in me that I've never known.

I hasten to close; listen, as I draw this to a conclusion, with the other words of this chapter that I did not quote above:

But thou art holy, O thou that inhabitest the praises of Israel.
4 Our fathers trusted in thee: they trusted, and thou didst deliver them.
5 They cried unto thee, and were delivered: they trusted in thee, and were not confounded. [...] 9 But thou art he that took me out of the womb: thou didst make me hope when I was upon my mother's breasts.
10 I was cast upon thee from the womb: thou art my God from my mother's belly.
11 Be not far from me; for trouble is near; for there is none to help. [...] 19 But be not thou far from me, O LORD: O my strength, haste thee to help me.
20 Deliver my soul from the sword; my darling from the power of the dog.
21 Save me from the lion's mouth: for thou hast heard me from the horns of the unicorns.
22 I will declare thy name unto my brethren: in the midst of the congregation will I praise thee.
23 Ye that fear the LORD, praise him; all ye the seed of Jacob, glorify him; and fear him, all ye the seed of Israel.
24 For he hath not despised nor abhorred the affliction of the afflicted; neither hath he hid his face from him; but when he cried unto him, he heard.
25 My praise shall be of thee in the great congregation: I will pay my vows before them that fear him.
26 The meek shall eat and be satisfied: they shall praise the LORD that seek him: your heart shall live for ever.
27 All the ends of the world shall remember and turn unto the LORD: and all the kindreds of the nations shall worship before thee.
28 For the kingdom is the LORD'S: and he is the governor among the nations.
29 All they that be fat upon earth shall eat and worship: all they that go down to the dust shall bow before him: and none can keep alive his own soul.
30 A seed shall serve him; it shall be accounted to the Lord for a generation.
31 They shall come, and shall declare his righteousness unto a people that shall be born, that he hath done this.

Psalms 22:3-5, 9-11, 19-31 (KJV, emphasis added)

Amen!

NA Meetings and Alabaster Jars

There's a story that is recorded in Luke's gospel, chapter 7, that is best known as The Penitent Woman. It's a story that spans the entire body of the Gospel canon, and is somewhat fraught with difficulty. Matthew (26:6-13) and Mark (14:3-9) record the story but in no way indicate that she was a sinner. John (12:1-8) names her "Mary" which has created a tradition that essentially identifies this woman as Mary Magdalene (or Lazarus' sister), one not supported by any interior or extraneous proof. In each record, the host is different (Matthew- Simon the Leper; Mark- just Simon; Luke- Simon the Pharisee; John puts the story in the house of Lazarus ). Even the geographical location is inconclusive (Luke- north in Galilee; Matthew, Mark, and John place it down south in Bethany). The very body part of Jesus that this woman anointed is questionable too, because some of the Evangelist say it was His feet (Luke and John) while others claim it to be His head (Matthew and Mark).

Obviously, this story morphed a bit between the oral transmission phase and when these Evangelist actually began to write things down. Now, I know some might object and say that is not possible, right? The Holy Spirit moved men and scripture was given by complete inspiration and is therefore infallible. I don't even really want to touch that this morning (Please forgive me if that offends you). You can accept it as four different stories with four separate women and three different places; or, one story with multiple incompatible versions. You can elevate human agency in biblical literary construction; all these arguments have valid points, but let's not miss something here by arguing over what I consider to be non-essential.

I am going, therefore, to choose Luke's rendition here because it speaks volumes to me today. In fact, it has taken more than a hour for me to get past the first few sentences of this passage. So, really, there's no need for us to argue over inspiration. There is no question that the Holy Spirit, today, in the 21st century, has taken this narrative and inspired and touched my spirit and I don't care if it actually happened the Lucan way or not. So, now, with all that mess out of the way, let's look at it together:

^36 One of the Pharisees asked Jesus^j to eat with him, and he went into the Pharisee’s house and took his place at the table. ^37 And a woman in the city, who was a sinner, having learned that he was eating in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster jar of ointment. ^38 She stood behind him at his feet, weeping, and began to bathe his feet with her tears and to dry them with her hair. Then she continued kissing his feet and anointing them with the ointment. ^39 Now when the Pharisee who had invited him saw it, he said to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him—that she is a sinner.” ^40 Jesus spoke up and said to him, “Simon, I have something to say to you.” “Teacher,” he replied, “speak.” ^41 “A certain creditor had two debtors; one owed five hundred denarii,^k and the other fifty. ^42 When they could not pay, he canceled the debts for both of them. Now which of them will love him more?” ^43 Simon answered, “I suppose the one for whom he canceled the greater debt.” And Jesus^l said to him, “You have judged rightly.” ^44 Then turning toward the woman, he said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has bathed my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. ^45 You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not stopped kissing my feet. ^46 You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. ^47 Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love. But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.” ^48 Then he said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.” ^49 But those who were at the table with him began to say among themselves, “Who is this who even forgives sins?” ^50 And he said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”

j Gk him

k The denarius was the usual day’s wage for a laborer

l Gk he

The Holy Bible : New Revised Standard Version, Lk 7:36. Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1996, c1989.

Okay, first thing I notice here is that Simon has contempt for Jesus. You might object. I mean, if he was contemptuous, then why bring Jesus into his house? Good question! I have no clue. But, Simon ignores common courtesy, customs well entrenched in the first century Mediterranean world. It was common to, at the very least, offer a guest water to wash his feet. In most cases, when a superior entered the home of an inferior, the host would actually wash the feet of the former himself. Simon does none of this. While we are not dealing with the other versions of the story, it was also common to offer water for one to wash their face and oil to anoint it as well. These were common practices ignored by this Pharisee.

When the immoral (perhaps she was a prostitute or married to a publican?) woman entered the house and began to touch Jesus, Simon immediately felt justified: "this man is no prophet! If he was, he would know the character of the woman touching him!" Jesus proves him wrong by revealing the secrets of his heart. "Simon, two men owed debts, one small the other large. When they both could not repay, they were both forgiven and the debt erased. Simon, who do you think was the most thankful?" (my paraphrase) Then, the Pharisee really comes out; "I suppose the one whose debt was the biggest."

Now, my wife has this discerning way about her when I am being sarcastic, even at times when I don't realize it. She'll tell me, "you got this arrogant smirk on your face." I wish I knew what that looked like; obviously I can not hide my contempt very well. Simon must of been the same way. There is "I suppose" and then there's, "I suppose......" Understand what I am saying? The narrative if full of the venom and contempt.

Let me pose a question, one that the text doesn't answer and I can't either; but, was it common for sinful women to just walk into some one's house uninvited? I can see that happening at my house! And, the moment Simon saw her, I wonder why he didn't throw her out? Think about it for a moment.... Was he trying set Jesus up? Stranger things have happened!

Poor Simon really didn't get it; but the woman did! And she is the one I want us to really see today. She walks in with a box of perfume. Luke here says that it was an alabaster jar. The perfume was no doubt expensive, one version saying it was worth 100 denarius. To put it into perspective, a denari was a typical day's wage. Next, not only was the ointment/perfume expensive, but alabaster was a precious white stone out which small vessels were made to hold precious things. So, the jar/box was precious and the perfume/ointment was as well.

She comes in, breaks the seal and begins to sits at Jesus' feet. Now, I like where Luke puts her, and I'll tell you why. Here is woman, obviously scorned and unworthy; she comes in with the most precious thing she can afford (which lends credence to the idea that she might actually have been a prostitute) and she walks up to Jesus and all she can do is sit behind him, at his feet. That isn't usually what we do when we bring our gifts to him, is it? Oh, well, she was sinner! So, am I! But, I usually stroll boldly before him and make sure that he knows what it is I am offering! "Look! Jesus, I threw out those books you didn't want me to have! I gave up drugs, immoral behaviors! I am even going to an E-V-errrrr, an Evangelical church!!!" She doesn't do this.

The portrait in the Greek is of one who is overcome with love and emotion. Sitting at His feet had such a dramatic effect on this woman! Now, this story has been used often to describe the fact that love covers a multitude of sins. If you love much, you'll be forgiven much. It's as if, love is the catalyst, the barter, if you will, for forgiveness. But, that is not what is happening here.

Zerwick comments: “The context, however, renders the interpretation just referred to almost impossible; for Our Lord goes on at once to add, ‘but he to whom less is forgiven, loves less,’ with evident reference to the parable whereby He had shown Simon that the greater mercy calls forth the greater love of gratitude…The sense demanded by the context…is ‘she loves because she is forgiven,’ and not ‘she is forgiven because she loves.’ And this is in fact the sense of the Greek expression, so long as the hoti is understood in the special causal sense which gives the reason not why the fact is so, but whereby it is known to be so”

M. Zerwick, Graecitas biblica (4th ed.; Rome, 1960). Numbers correspond to English tr., Biblical Greek (Rome, 1963) [emphasis added]

So, what is going on here? She comes in, whether she was put up to it by someone who was trying to offend or test Jesus, we will never know. But, she comes up behind Jesus as he is reclining at Simon's table. Surely, she came in with some kind of intent or desire, one that may forever be lost to us. But sitting there at his feet began to move her and she saw her neediness. That neediness lead to an internal estimation of her condition and that lead to her forgiveness. This woman was forgiven before Jesus ever opened his mouth!

I really messed up last night; when I came home my heart was so heavy. I went to an NA meeting, not because I really felt like I had too, but I just thought it might be helpful for someone else (yeah, I am an arrogant expletive!). While there, the idea of God came up and the "of your own understanding" of any 12 step program was discussed and I don't know, the ugly old cynic just came flooding to the surface. I know what "higher power" means. God knows I wouldn't be here today if He wasn't with me. But, it was just that "of your own understanding" part that irritated me. No, I couldn't share my faith, but I took it upon myself to try and destroy any one's notion of God that did not mesh with what I thought was logical.

My argument? If I can understand God, he is not big enough to fix my problems. I understand addiction and drugs and alcoholism and all that stuff. But if something/someone is big enough to help me, then He is going to have to be bigger than my intelligence. And don't assault my sensibilities by saying that I can choose a rock or a door knob or a scratching post; oh, the arrogance! If a doorknob could help me beat my addictions don't you think I'd of been anointing and praying to door knobs everywhere? I would be praying to every tree or rock... no, if I can touch it, see it, taste it, it can't help me!

Don't you think for a minute that I didn't sit there and bite my tongue and shift in my seat and almost got up and walked out without even saying a word. But, no, there again, not my nature; I am a loud mouth idiot who has to get his point across and have the last word in most cases (even if I don't even really believe what I am saying: argue simply for argument's sake!), and I did. And let me tell you, for a moment, it felt good. But, when I got done, looking at the faces of the men and women sitting there who may not of been able to accept my idea of God (as if I even tried to define that!), I immediately heard Jesus speak, "you deny Me before men, I will deny you before my Father." (Matthew 10:33; my paraphrase) I was and am so ashamed!

Did I ever step into that one! I went home under conviction. I went to bed with it, and I woke up with it. I can only imagine that it was the Holy Spirit that quickened this story to my mind and as I sat down to do my ritual blog. I opened this passage of scripture, and the portrait of this woman sitting at the Master's feet, somehow stirred my spirit. I feel sorry for those whose faith has no passion. I've been there, and I know what it feels like. Never, again, do I want to be left to my own devices, my own intellect, to figure things out and somehow make them right.

I mentioned earlier that it took me more than an hour to get to where I could begin to think about writing about this passage. Why? Because I saw myself in this woman. Waking this morning and putting my feet on the floor and going through the motions of the daily rituals, knowing that I had hurt my Savior the night before, was almost more than I could take. I sat down at this computer thinking, I will make it right, with my alabaster jar and precious ointment in my hands. And then, all my thoughts and intellect, sensibilities, were overwhelmed by this portrait of a woman, an immoral woman, who met Jesus where she could: at his feet!

"Jesus! I have a gift for you today! Let me offer to you this talent or that. I am going to clean my house for your glory; I am going to love my wife and my children today!" The more I tried to stand upright and meet Him face to face, the more and more I realized that I could do nothing more than what this immoral woman did: sit at his feet. You know, sometimes being at His feet is the most beautiful, comforting place you can be.

This woman is filled with forgiveness and as such, her tears begin to overflow and she wipes her tears away with her hair, essentially washing his feet. He didn't even have to say a word to me this morning. It wasn't my talents, my business, my devotion to family and friends that He wanted. As I sat there and cried alongside this woman, the alabaster jar of my heart was broken and repentance and "I'm sorry" flowed out with overwhelming passion. I truly was and am so sorry!

I don't care what the Simon's of the world do. I've been there, done that, got the tee-shirt and I couldn't disdain a faith perspective any less. I can admit that I don't understand. All I know, is that I was forgiven so much, and in return, I love much! No longer can I meet Him face to face; I find comfort at His feet, my tears staining His skin.

What does this mean for you today? May you know His forgiveness, love, and compassion. May you realize today that He doesn't need your talents or anything, but your heart. May you, just as I, find comfort and solace at His feet. The man/woman who is forgiven much, will love much. May that be true in me! May it be true in you as well!