Renew Their Strength

A YMCA devotion for members and friends. When we are weary, we can renew our strength in spirit, mind and body with hope.

Maybe it’s just me, but I sense a lot of weariness and wariness around me. Definitely within me, but also in a lot of others I see. The political realities unfolding before us don’t inspire hope. The economic situation for many is exhausting. And the state of our communities is overwhelmed by illness, addictions, overdoses, and isolation.

When I get in this weary and wary place, I make a point to pray, even though sometimes I don’t know what to say or ask for. Mostly because I wonder what God is doing, and I am confused as to why things seem to be getting harder, and I lack confidence that the Lord hears my prayers.

I’m not alone in this. There’s a beautiful poem from the prophet Isaiah in the Hebrew Scriptures, writing a sermon to the people of ancient Israel a few hundred years before Christ. There was much poverty and political oppression among his people, a soaring divide between the rich and the poor, and a lot of idolatry and adultery going around.

Isaiah sensed that people were wondering if God knew what was going on, if God was listening to them, and if God cared.

The poem is a response, but not in the way people expected. Instead of merely assuring them that everything will be okay, he points them to the character of God and invites them to respond to the Lord with renewed trust so that they can do something about their problems with hope. Not hope in “optimism” or “positive thinking”, but hope in God who is with them and working through them, in spirit, mind, body and community.

This is one of my favorite pieces of Scripture:

Why do you complain, Jacob?
    Why do you say, Israel,
“My way is hidden from the Lord;
    my cause is disregarded by my God”?
Do you not know?
    Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
    the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,
    and his understanding no one can fathom.
He gives strength to the weary
    and increases the power of the weak.
Even youths grow tired and weary,
    and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord
    will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
    they will run and not grow weary,
    they will walk and not be faint.

When Christ Jesus ascended into the heavens forty days after his resurrection, he reminded those who trusted in him that he would be with them always, “unto the end of the age” as they proclaimed and lived out his message of “good news.” On the day of Pentecost, ten days later, the Spirit of the Lord descended upon the believers, and sent them out into the world filled with faith, hope, love, and courage.

To trust in the Lord is to trust in his character and his promises. You begin to imitate those you trust, and that is the opportunity Jesus gives us – to have confidence in God that we can become like him: loyal, faithful, sacrificial, generous, persistent, enduring, courageous, focused, patient, loving, and joyful.

And so we pray, meditate, reflect, be silent, and become aware of the ways the God not just with us, but transforming us. This will be the way that we can then enter into the struggle of those around us and renew their strength too.

As you begin this day, make this adaptation of Isaiah’s poem your prayer:

Why do I complain, [insert name]?
   Why do I say, [insert name],
“My way is hidden from the Lord;
    my cause is disregarded by my God”?
Don’t I know?
   Haven’t I heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
    the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,
    and his understanding no one can fathom.
He gives strength to the weary
    and increases the power of the weak.
I have grown tired and weary,
   my spirit is about to stumble and fall;
Lord, help me to put my hope in you,
   renew my strength,
that my soul may soar on wings like eagles;
   that my courage can run and not grow weary,
   that my faith can walk and not be faint.

Amen.

Pain, Truth, Lament, Hope

Friendship saves lives. Overcome loneliness, pain and injustice with others. Reach out in a loving, courageous, caring way. A YMCA devotion for members and friends.

A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.” Jesus of Nazareth (John 13.34, NIV)

There is more hunger in the world for love and appreciation in this world than for bread.“- Mother Teresa

This past Sunday morning I read a news article on the opioid epidemic, with the headline: Why Are Americans In So Much Pain? It noted that our nation makes up only 5% of the global population, but we consume over 30% of the global prescription of opioids.

It’s a fascinating article, but one comment that caught my eye was this: “In our society, pain has a negative connotation and can cause people to think that they cannot do things or cannot enjoy life. By accepting pain as a normal and common physical occurrence, we can have more realistic expectations for pain control.”

It got me reflecting on why we avoid pain, why we want to rid ourselves of pain so quickly, and why we equate pain with failure. It also caused me to do some difficult self-reflection on my attitudes and reactions to pain.

“Being unwanted, unloved, uncared for, forgotten by everybody, I think that is a much greater hunger, a much greater poverty than the person who has nothing to eat. The most terrible poverty is loneliness and the feeling of being unloved. “- Mother Teresa

The article on opioid addiction reminded me of an article I had read a few months ago on the loneliness epidemic in America, and how it deeply intersects with overdoses and death. It’s not just physical pains of old age or diseases we’re trying to numb, but the pain of being alone, the suffering that comes from fractured friendships, abuse and neglect.

The biggest disease today is not leprosy or tuberculosis, but rather the feeling of being unwanted. It’s to be nobody to anybody.” – Mother Teresa

Reading further about the deadly consequences of opioids, it turns out that there is a racial element to it – opioid drugs are mostly abused by white people, yet it leads to calls for treatment, not incarceration, while similar drug abuse by black people becomes a criminal offense.

What is a healthy response to the affliction of pain Americans feel in light of the majority of white people that are overdosing on prescription opioids, and the mass incarceration of nonviolent black drug offenders?

Obviously, it is multifaceted, including changes in public health policy and spending, workplace expectations and conditions, cultural attitudes towards drug abuse and treatment, and the inherent racism and white privilege in our society.

One spiritual response that has been most meaningful to me these days is that of lament.

The deadly intersection of opioids, lonliness, and racism stirs up a dark cloud of oppression. The more I see it and the effects it has on our nation, the more sorrowful and despairing I become.

The temptation is to deny what I see. I also feel a strong compulsion to do something about it. But what?

That is where the spiritual practice of lament comes into play. It’s the work of trying to see society as it really is, in it’s beauty and horror, it’s truth and lies, the justice and criminality, the love and the hatred.

As Pastor Daniel Hill writes in White Awake: An Honest Look at What it Means to Be White, “To be a white person in this country and to be relatively conscious is to be in a state of lament almost all the time” (158).

Instead of burying the pain of life, of loneliness, of injustice, or glossing over the abuse of opioids and other drugs, lament allows us to face it, name it, engage it – not alone, but within a community of hope, grace, and truth.

What many are learning is that the practice of lament is a healthy, yet difficult way forward. Hill shares that lament “…is a beautiful and needed resource because it has a unique way of remaining awake to sorrow without succumbing to it. Lament allows us to grieve injustice but not fall into despair. We can be awake to the pain of the world but still press forward in faith because of another beautiful word at the center of the gospel: hope” (158).

February is Black History Month. It’s an invitation to remember, reflect, and learn more about the lives of black people in America from black people in America. This is a timely season to learn from our black brothers and sisters on ways to face pain and poverty, to overcome loneliness and rejection, and deal with grief and death.

The list of books by black writers I’ve listed below are about Christianity, American culture, racism, theology, the church, society, horror, and hope. Most of these authors have been recommended to me by others, so I’d love to hear from you which black writers you are spending time reading.

These are books that I have read, started to read, or am in the middle of reading:

Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.Strength to Love, Letter from a Birmingham Jail, A Testament Of Hope.

Ida B. WellsSouthern Horrors: Lynch Law in All It’s Phases

Fredrick DouglassMy Bondage and My Freedom, Narrative of the Life of Fredrick Douglass

Bryan StevensonJust Mercy

Maya AngelouWouldn’t Take Nothing for My Journey Now

John PerkinsMaking Neighborhoods Whole

Ibram KendiStamped From the Beginning

Ta-Nehisi CoatesBetween The World and Me

Eddie GlaudeDemocracy in Black

Cornel WestRace Matters, Prophesy Deliverance! The Cornel West Reader

W. E. B. DuBoisThe Souls of Black Folk

Alex HaleyRoots

Brian Bantum – The Death of Race

James Cone – God of the Oppressed


Reading is one way forward to get educated. Conversation with people of color is better. Listening is best. Honest, humble, courageous, patient, being still, absorbing the stories, connecting to the pain in others, and learning how together find a merciful way forward.

What Comes Next?

What Comes Next? As the seasons change, we reflect on our choices and where they are taking us. A YMCA devotion for members and friends.

There’s more to come: We continue to shout our praise even when we’re hemmed in with troubles, because we know how troubles can develop passionate patience in us, and how that patience in turn forges the tempered steel of virtue, keeping us alert for whatever God will do next. In alert expectancy such as this, we’re never left feeling shortchanged.

[St. Paul’s Letter to the Christians in Rome, 5.3-4, The Message]

It’s that time of year when it’s natural to look back over the previous seasons and reflect on what did and didn’t happen. With a mixture of grief and gratitude, we look ahead to the approaching winter and the year beyond.

What comes next for you?

This isn’t a plug for making new year’s resolutions. Rather, it’s an invitation to consider during Advent the kind of choices you have been making. Past decisions profoundly determine what often comes next for us.

For Christians around the world, this season is named Advent, which begins on the fourth Sunday before Christmas Day. The first Sunday of Advent is New Year’s Day for the Christian church, the emphasis being on the much anticipated coming again (advent) of the Lord Jesus Christ to our world.

Advent focuses on the promise that Christ will come again soon to make right every wrong and personally lead the world into justice, truth, beauty, and love. Not coercively, but courageously, embodying in himself what was originally intended for humanity – for Jesus, the means are the end.

Imagine how this belief can shape how you interpret your past and present decisions, as well as your future expectations and fears. Christians can be motivated by a beautifully compelling vision of the future which we strive to embody now in everyday life.

When we muse on what is next, it is not a blank slate. Christians around the world can count on the seasons of Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Easter and Pentecost to shape our prayers, our perspective, and our participation in the complicated and often painful world unfolding in front of us.

We are not adrift in a world of random chaos or hopeless unhappiness. But it can sometimes seem like that if we keep our eyes on our selves.  Rather, trials and troubles can keep us alert for whatever God will do next, as embodied in the Christian calendar.

It may seem cheesy or naively spiritualistic to suggest that the Christian calendar can be a source of courage for how we look into the future. Maybe it is.

But consider how submitting to Christ and the Scriptures through it can develop a patience perspective in us, which in turn can forge much-needed virtue:

The twelve days of Christmas focus on the mysterious way God keeps his promises to his people – people that disbelieve him, mock him, reject him, and ignore him. Christmas is first about loyalty, faithfulness, reconciliation, and new beginnings that have not just a lifetime in mind, but millenniums.

These days are followed by what Christians call Epiphany, a week of Sundays where we pay attention to the stories of men and women awakening to the reality of Christ Jesus in their world. The wise men, John the Baptist, the wedding miracle at Cana. They all experienced epiphanies, eyes to see the ways Christ has already come, ways he is becoming real and present in our world.

After this is Lent, 40 days, not including Sundays, when Christians reflect on their present existence in penitence and humility. In light of how stubbornly prideful and passively aggressive people tend to be, we need this season more than we want to admit.

This preparation ahead of the Easter season give us context for 49 days of breathing new life into what is good and beautiful. It’s a season to renew our energy for acts of justice and mercy so that in our community life flourishes for all.

The seven weeks of Pentecost that come next inspire Christians with the expectation of God keeping his promises to empower his creative and redeeming love to flourish in the world through the body of Christ – his people fueled by the Spirit of God.

It is Advent now: what is coming next for you? Or, who is coming next?

As you’ve probably begun to realize, what you choose to do eventually begins to choose for you.

Sometimes our failure to control our future stems from not understanding the inherent consequences of past decisions. We live in an existence exuding entropy – everything eventually declines into disorder.

Unless an outside force resists the dis-bonding of people, where does the energy come from to reconnect, reconcile, and courageously forge a renewed future together?

May it be Christ in you.

This Advent, may Christ Jesus come to you (again), his holy and courageous love surrounding you; may he be to your left and your right, Christ above and below, behind and ahead of you, Christ next to you as you exude patience, forge virtue, getting ready for what comes next.

The earliest Christians prayed “Mara natha!” – Come, Lord Jesus!

This Advent, (re)choose Christ. 

This Advent, “Mara natha.”