OnPrinciple – Page 9 – Flourishing For All

Blessed Are You: When You Don’t Get What You Want

“We don’t even know what our desire is. We ask other people to tell us our desires. We would like our desires to come from our deepest selves, our personal depths – but if it did, it would not be desire. Desire is always for something we feel we lack.” ~René Girard

The pandemic has revealed many different paradoxes about our society, our families, our communities, our values, and our desires. At the core of this COVID-19 confusion are frustrated desires for life, liberty, and happiness. For many of us, the coronavirus is magnifying reality: we never get all that we want.

People are social beings, we get our desires from others – first from our parents and immediate family, and then extended family, friends, commercials, classmates, social media, literature, films, and art, neighbors, coworkers: basically our culture.

Our desires are never truly fulfilled, we always feel a lack. Life is a paradox – you desire based on what others desire in your culture, but you personally pay the price for trying to fulfill them.

The pandemic is fueling our anxiety around this existential question: how can we be blessed and happy when so many of our desires are unfulfilled?

Especially if we’re facing a frustrating disruption to our children’s education and well-being, our jobs and economic stability, or worst of all infection and the fear of death.

But amidst all the anxiety and uncertainty that the pandemic has increased, amidst all the thwarted desires and plans we were striving to fulfill, there have been many heart-warming stories of personal sacrifices, of hero’s stepping forward, of people letting their light shine, of families making the most of it, of seeing the best of humanity emerging towards those who are suffering.

It’s an interesting paradox – the best of times can bring out the worst in people, and the worst of times can bring out the best in people.

It’s almost as if the “worst times” is the default setting for humanity, but we deeply yearn for “the best of times.”

If one were cynical, it would seem that out of the billions of people on our planet, too many are stuck in the worst of times, and too few are getting to enjoy the best of times.

What to do when it feels like you are getting stuck in the “worst of times”?

For Jesus of Nazareth walking the length and breadth of Israel in the first century, most of the citizens were stuck in the worst of times.

They floundered under the cruel paranoia of King Herod, the local authority who rebuilt the beautiful temple and had an eye for urban architectural design but was bloodthirsty and evil towards his own people.

On top of these injustices was the oppressive Roman Empire which sought to tamp down the violence in Israel, a stubborn people unwilling to quietly accept the blasphemies and corruption of the Caesars.

The common folks were dying of malnutrition, of untreated diseases, of trauma, of economic exploitation, of unfair justice, of hopelessness.

The entrenched political and religious oligarchies were insulated from the misery of the people – though they sought to find ways to speak for them and drain away the violent repercussions of mass poverty so the government wouldn’t take away their privileged positions.

It’s in this pandemic of terrifying imperial and royal authoritarianism that Jesus arrives to be with the people of Israel. He brings real healing and hope, speaking subversive truth and grace. Christ Jesus reconnects them to their living God, the one who brought them out of Egypt and into the Promised Land, their God who created them to be a blessing to the world.

Jesus arrived to teach them his people how to participate in the kingdom of God even while they are subjected to the politics of injustice.

What Jesus is revealing to us comes across as a series of paradoxes amidst our thwarted desires. They are guideposts to us on how God keeps his promises to his conflicted people, and how to be God’s people while immersed in the politics of whatever authority and government happen to be in power.

Jesus is teaching those who will listen to him how to be blessed by God while in the worst of times.

He knows that for many people, most of their life will be marked by the tragedies and injustices of the world.

For them and us: when we can’t stop the worst of times from coming, how to find happiness, hope, a way to experience God and his goodness?

We all know that anger, vengeance, bitterness, hatred easily take root in us, our desires become full of darkness and rage, or despair and violence when we are pressed down and oppressed lacking hope of rescue.

While it’s natural, it’s also destructive to ourselves and others. What’s another way?

The Beatitudes are a realistic assessment of how God blesses his people, how he is with them, and for them, in this paradox-full world of the best of times and the worst of times.

We desire to be blessed. And at our best, we desire to be a blessing. Jesus teaches us how to be blessed and to be a blessing when we are poor and mourn when we are oppressed and hungry when we are treated unmercifully and violently when we are full of impure thoughts and persecuted for striving to live God’s way in the world.

In February 2020 I traveled through parts of the Holy Land with a group of YMCA leaders as part of our OnPrinciples program. In learning how to strengthen the presence of Christ in our Y, we spent time where Christ had been present, taught, and blessed.

It was hard to complain when we visited the Mount of Beatitudes. Yet I found myself frustrated that instead of it being a beautifully warm and sunny morning in which to soak up the glory of this historic and sacred place, it was cold, rainy, foggy, and very crowded by the time we left.

My desire for a particular kind of experience was thwarted; I wasn’t getting the full amount of what I wanted.

What to do? Remember why I am there, how much grace was part of my even being there, what kind of privilege and blessing it was to be there, and what it meant to be in a place where Jesus had been present. For all we know it had been rainy, cold, foggy and miserable when he taught the Beatitudes!

I learned while in the Holy Land that the desires there are complicated, that there are many, many paradoxes, and too often the striving for being blessed leads to violence.

The need for Christians to heed this sermon is more paramount than ever.

Below are the gospel text, some pictures and brief reflections of my time at the Mount of Beatitudes:

Now when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down.

Hillsidebeatitudes — Mid-morning view of the Beatitudes mountainside sloping down to the fog-covered Sea of Galilee.

His disciples came to him, and he began to teach them.

beatitudesdevotionintherain — OnPrinciple group gathered for a lesson, escaping the cold drizzle under a canopy in front of the Church of the Beatitudes

Jesus said:

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for justice, for they will be filled.

judeanhillsonwaytobeatitudes — Traveling through the wilderness on way to the Mount of Beatitudes; with a view of date tree farms and the Judean hills. I reflected on the lives of Palestinian Christians who eke out an existence in this stretch of the Holy Land, a minority within a persecuted people group. Their meditation on the Beatitudes takes on a rugged necessity that I can’t relate to.

Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of justice, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

tankonwaytobeatitudes — An old abandoned and graffitied tank at a rest stop in the Judean wilderness on way to Mount of Beatitudes. The Holy Land in the past twelve decades has known only escalating violence in an effort to fulfill their desire to abide in the Promised Land. In their pursuit of being blessed by God there has been too much bloodshed. Surely the Beatitudes do not condone these tactics?

“Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

“You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.

MikeEricBlessingBeatitude — Back portico of the Church of the Beatitudes, facing the mountainside that slopes down to the lake; OnPrinciple leaders Eric and Mike giving a hearty blessing. The interior chapel was jammed wall to wall with pilgrims from around the world seeking to kneel and pray where Jesus sat and taught us how to be blessed. The desire is strong in all of us.

You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven. [Jesus of Nazareth, the Gospel According to Matthew, 5.1-16, NIV]

churchofthebeatitudeswithcolorfulumbrellas — Entrance to the Church of the Beatitudes, with the faithful gathered in the rain, waiting to pray within.

The ongoing violence in the Holy Land is at odds with the kingdom of God revealed in the Beatitudes.

Christians in Israel and Palestine face a brutal reality – how to survive, how to be blessed by God, how to be salt and light, how to follow the teachings of Christ Jesus in the Beatitudes amidst the complex, roiling desires for justice, security, peace, prosperity, and God’s will?

Christians in the West are not immune to this brutal reality – it’s our brothers and sisters who suffer in spirit, mind and body. The persecuted Body of Christ there, of which we fully belong, must endure this violence according to the Beatitudes.

And, for Christians that are not in the minority, we must face the brutal truth – are we, in any way, propping up violent forms of politics and economics that oppose the Beatitudes?

If so, we must first face the truth, and lament this reality. Then we can begin to learn from our fellow Christians in the Holy Land on how to be blessed when you don’t get what you want.

The Way of Suffering: You, the Y, the World

What is the way you suffer? How do you adjust to reality? Amidst this pandemic, as we prepare for Easter, consider the Via Dolorosa, the way of suffering by Jesus. Instead of despair, we can abide, lead, and serve in faith, hope, love.

Whether you deserve the suffering you eventually experience or not, we’re all faced with the same existential question: what will you do with it?

For the Christian, we believe it all can be redeemed. We are the Good Friday people, the Easter community.

Like every organization in our nation, YMCA’s are also striving to endure this current pandemic-sourced suffering.

But more than that, especially because of our mission and Christian legacy, Y’s are working to also find a way to grow stronger and more loving because of it.

When you find yourself reflecting and grieving on your suffering in the world, it can be a moment to remember the journey of Jesus on his Via Dolorosa, of what he did with his Way of Suffering.

“He who himself does not wish to suffer cannot love him who has.”

– Soren Kierkegaard, Provocations, 385

Next week is Good Friday, the darkest afternoon of the year for followers of The Way, when we retrace the steps of the Via Dolorosa in our hearts.

This past February, through a YMCA program called OnPRINCIPLE, a cohort of 12 Y workers, along with our 12 mentors and organizers, spent ten days in the Holy Land of Israel and Palestine. On our third day there, we walked the Via Dolorosa, which includes 14 traditional stations of the cross.

Below are my images from most of the stations, along with reflections on The Way, of suffering, of hope in the world with Jesus, the one crucified and resurrected.

ssviadol1 — First Station: Jesus Condemned and Flogged by Pontius Pilate

“To suffer patiently is not specifically Christian – but freely to choose the suffering is.”

– Kierkegaard

The natural tendency of humans is to avoid suffering, to reduce the risk of suffering, to take preventative measures to reasonably protect ourselves from it.

Fear can have a healthy role in this labor. Or a sick one.

Love for one another, our neighbors and strangers is a more powerful healing agent for responding to unwanted suffering.

Love and fear – each transforms how we, the YMCA, the world, suffers, and why.

ssviadol2 — Second Station: Crowd Watches Jesus Carry His Cross

Sometimes though our efforts to insulate ourselves from suffering is fueled by irrational anxiety and selfish paranoia.

A crowd mentality can take hold of us, narrowly driving us to resist and revile suffering, which causes us to misunderstand and misapply the medicine at hand.

ssviadol3 — Third Station: Jesus Stumbles Under His Cross

Sometimes members of the community have to take on suffering as a way to bring healing to those who also suffer.

This can be done out of duty, it can be done out of cynicism and bitterness, but it can also be done fueled by the common bond of humane responsibility to each other.

This is partly what we see in Christ purposefully embarking on the Via Dolorosa; it is what Y members can aspire to, what we in the church can imitate, for the world.

ssviadol5 — Fifth Station Entrance: Simon of Cyrene takes upon himself the Cross of Christ

“Adversities do not make a person weak, they reveal what strength he has.”

– Kierkegaard

Imagine being Simon of Cyrene, on a religious sojourn from his island homeland to the Holy City for Passover, caught up in the terror and surge of the crowds pressing in on Jesus.

Out of all the men to be asked by the soldier to carry the cross of Christ, why Simon?

Why you, when drawn into the suffering of others?

Having walked the Via Dolorosa with fellow YMCA workers, in light of the COVID-19 pandemic, amidst the adversity pressed upon our society these days, Simon of Cyrene has become a sort of mentor for me.

Caught up in a storm not of his making, out of his control, he chose to kneel and turn his suffering into a form of holy service.

Simon’s participation in the carrying of Christ’s cross, like ours, is how we contribute to the redemption of the world.

ssviadol6 — Sixth Station: Veronica Wipes the Face of Jesus

Therefore, dare to renew your decision. It will lift you up again to have trust in God.

For God is a spirit of power and love and self-control, and it is before God and for him that every decision is made.

Dare to act on the good that is buried within your heart.

– Kierkegaard, Provocations, 8

We don’t know much about Veronica, there is nothing in the Gospels about her tender caress of the bleeding and broken face of Christ.

What courage, though, embodied by this caring woman, seeing this suffering servant of the Lord, mocked and gawked at by the crowds, to venture forth, prompted by the compassion in her heart, to take a risk and wipe the tears of Jesus.

It’s redemptive stories like these that prompt us to enter into the suffering of others, moved by courage and compassion for our Lord.

ssviadol7 — Seventh Station: Jesus Falls Again Under the Cross

This much is certain: the greatest thing each person can do is to give himself to God utterly and unconditionally – weaknesses, fears, and all.

For God loves obedience more than good intentions or second-best offerings, which are all too often made under the guise of weakness.

– Kierkegaard, Provocations, 8

When we suffer, whether it be something chronic or uniquely difficult, within our spirit or throughout our body, as a Christian, we are allowed to submit it to the Lord.

When we fall under the weight of it, weak and worn, we can pray for the Lord to remove it.

But, we can also yearn for courageous obedience, seeking to imitate Christ who gave himself to God utterly and unconditionally.

ssviadol8 — Eighth Station: Jesus Pleads with the Women of Jerusalem

“Therefore never in unlovingness give up on a person or give up hope for him, for it is possible that even the most prodigal son can still be saved, that the most embittered enemy, alas, he who was your friend, it is still possible that he can again become your friend; it is possible that he who has sunk the deepest, alas, because he stood so high, it is still possible that he can be raised up again; it is still possible that the love which has turned cold can burn again – therefore never give up any man or woman, not even at the last moment; do not despair.

No, hope all things!”

– Kierkegaard, Works of Love

It’s remarkable to me that while Jesus suffered, he took time to pray for the women of Jerusalem, to plead for them to flee and seek refuge: do not despair, hope all things.

When we suffer amidst pain, anxiety, and loss, we can become passive, waiting for others to lift us up.

But there are times amidst our straining difficulties that we can lift up the heads and hearts of others with our words to resist despair with enduring hope.

ssviadol9 — Ninth Station: Jesus Staggers Under the Cross Thrice

It must be firmly maintained that Christ did not come to the world only to set an example for us.

If that were the case we would have law and works-righteousness again.

He comes to save us and in this way be our example.

His very example should humble us, teach us how infinitely far away we are from resembling him.

When we humble ourselves, then Christ is pure compassion.

And in our striving to approach him, he is again our very help.

It alternates: when we are striving, then he is our example; and when we stumble, lose courage, then he is the love that helps us up.

And then he is our example again.

– Kierkegaard, Provocations, 223

Three times on the Via Dolorosa we stop to meditate on the falling of Jesus under the weight of his cruel cross.

It’s a testament to his perseverance, his faithfulness, his striving to complete what he set out to do – for us, and with us, amidst the world’s suffering.

It’s when we stumble under the weight of suffering in our homes, churches, YMCA’s, community organizations, businesses that we can become humbly ready to approach the Man of Sorrows and discover his compassion and redemptive help.

ssholysepentrance — Front Entrance to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, site of the final four stations of the cross

ssviadol10 — Eleventh Station: Jesus Nailed to His Cross

By abiding, the one who loves transcends the power of the past.

He transforms the break into a possible new relationship, a future possibility.

The lover who abides belongs to the future, to the eternal.

From the angle of the future, the break is not really a break, but rather a possibility.

But the powers of the eternal are needed for this.

The lover must abide in love, otherwise the heartache of the past still has the power to keep alive the break.

– Kierkegaard, Provocations

It seems impossibly unrealistic to consider how one might abide while suffering, especially while being nailed to the cross.

But in reflecting on the fresco at the eleventh station, it does seem like our Lord is abiding, in love.

Kierkegaard cuts to the heart with his comments on the Lord abiding in love: otherwise, the heartaches of the past still has the power to keep alive the break.

For so many of us, isn’t this – the keeping alive the break – the compounding wound of suffering, the one that sticks us with toxicity more fatal than the initial wound?

Is it humanly possible to abide in love while suffering?

It would take a miracle, divine intervention, holy help.

ssholysepslab — The site where St. Helena discovered the lost cross of Christ

ssholysephelena — Statue of St. Helena clutching Christ’s cross, mother of Roman-Byzantine Emperor Constantine

Surely Christianity’s intention is that a person use this life to venture out, to do so in such a way that God can get hold of him, and that one gets to see whether or not he actually has faith.

– Kierkegaard, Provocations, 396

Helena ventured forth with her entourage in the early fourth century to discover the sites of our Lord as described in the New Testament.

What she found became sacred places for Byzantine churches, some which can still be touched today, some in ruins, some preserved.

It was a risky journey, and many wonder if she actually found the original sites of Christ’s gospel work.

But it was a sojourn prompted by faith, sustained by faith, appreciated by faith – much like why we might enter into the suffering of others.

ssholysep — Station Fourteen: top of the Holy Sepulchre, the site where Jesus was buried and from whence he resurrected, under the beautiful church cupola

For Jesus and those of us on The Way with him, resurrection is a powerful reality and hope as we endure suffering in this world.

But in love to hope all things signifies the lovers’ relationship to other men and women, that in relationship to them, hoping for them, he continually keeps possibility open with infinite partiality for his possibility of the good.

Consequently he hopes in love that possibility is present at every moment, that the possibility of the good is present for the other person, and that the possibility of the good means more and more glorious advancement in the good from perfection to perfection or resurrection from downfall or salvation from lostness and thus beyond.

– Kierkegaard, Works of Love

The hope of redemptive suffering, to have new life and possibilities on the other side, to have not just survived but to have grown in love and faithfulness – these are divine and sacred realities we need in our homes, our YMCA’s, and communities.

God’s raising up of Jesus from the stone tomb was an affirmation of his loyalty and goodness amidst his temptations and suffering.

It affirms for us that Jesus is worth imitating, that the hope he instills in us is real, and that suffering we endure with him is redemptive.

ssholysepselfie — Holy Sepulchre Selfie! He Is Risen!

Pray or Panic

“What Jesus invites us to imitate is his own desire, the spirit that directs him toward the goal on which his intention is fixed: to resemble God the Father as much as possible.”
Rene Girard, I Saw Satan Fall Like Lightening

Standing on the Mount of Olives in the Garden of Gethsemane, I was struck by the historical reliability and faithful tradition that this is the place where Jesus withdrew in preparation for the coming darkness on the night he was betrayed and handed over to the mob.

He prayed, he didn’t panic.

The stony ground upon which Jesus prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane, surrounded now by the Basilica of the Agony (also known as the Church of All Nations).

Prayer and panic are postures. They are responsive attitudes, often to crisis and pandemonium. They are embodied actions of your spirit.

Jesus often walked up to the Garden of Gethsemane on the Mount of Olives to rest, reflect, and pray. It was a safe place to recover from the hardships of his life and mission, as well as a way to prepare for heading back out into the crowds.

Prayer is not a replacement for planning and preparation. Like prudence, it is a virtuous element we employ in our habits and daily rhythms to be at least partially ready for the chaos that will always emerge in our world.

What’s the alternative to paranoia and panic?

When pandemics roil up over us, when pandemonium gets whipped up by gossip, fear-mongering, and ignorance, what can you do in the midst of it? How do you resist the magnetic pull of the crowds to absorb the anxiety of infection and death?

Prayer is not magic incantations. Prayer has no real power within itself. For imitators of Christ, we believe that it is God the Father who embodies the real energy to hold all things together.

When we pray instead of panic, we put forth energy to align our spirit, mind and body to the faithful presence of our Lord.

When our OnPrinciple team was in Jerusalem, we spent time in the Church of All Nations near the rocky ground where Jesus knelt and prayed.

From there we traversed up to the Lion’s Gate in the Old City, pausing to reflect where the first Christian martyr, Stephen, was stoned with chunks of rocks by a mob whipped up into a frenzied panic by the Pharisee Saul.

What did Stephen do when surrounded by the crowd? He knelt on the stony street and prayed, looking up to the heavens, profoundly sensing the real presence of Christ.

It reminded me that it takes preparation to resist the urge to panic in the face of the fear-laced crowds.

From there we walked to the ancient ruins of the Bethesda pool, where Jesus met a man who had been crippled for over three decades. It was humbling to pause by the pool and reflect on the healing power that flowed from the Lord.

It’s interesting to note that the man wanted to be healed. C.S. Lewis observes in his book Mere Christianity, that there are people who don’t want to get well, they’ve gotten so used to their situation and circumstances.

To extend the analogy, there are those who want to panic, who want to be swept away by the pandemonium.

Our OnPrinciple team spent time at the Mount and Pool as part of a longer journey towards engaging in adaptive leadership practices. Each generation inherits and also adds to the complexity of their life, often adding sorrow to sorrow.

For adaptive leaders who want to bring healing to these complex and uncharted situations, to bring peace to the pandemonium, wisdom to the panic, let us can learn from our Lord and his season in Jerusalem.

Christians are called to take responsibility for the welfare of their community. When pandemics spread across the globe, followers of Christ have a duty to imitate the Lord, of leading, praying, preparing, and putting into practice actions that heal, protect, and care in a responsible way.

In the remarkable book by an Indiana Mennonite Christian theologian Alan Krieder, The Patient Ferment of the Early Church: The Improbable Rise of Christianity in the Roman Empire, he chronicles actions and beliefs of Christ followers in the first three centuries, particularly in how they cared for the sick and poor amidst plagues and pandemics.

In seeking to imitate Christ our Lord, in reflecting upon his choices there in the Garden that evening, he chose to pray, not panic. May we prepare for chaos like him, in imitation of our Father in heaven.

Jesus went out as usual to the Mount of Olives…knelt down and prayed: “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.”
An angel from heaven appeared to him and strengthened him. And being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the stony ground.
the Gospel according to Luke the physician, 22.39-44 [NIV]

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