Thursday, February 7, 2019

On finding a lost plot by having a new conversation


Amidst the ongoing impasse between American conservatives and liberals with regard to politics, I cannot recall hearing much in way of any conversation about responsibility.    Whatever happened, I have to wonder, to that word?  Responsibility.

As an aging boomer, I carry this old memory in mind of how freedom is roughly equivalent to responsibility.  That was what I was raised to believe.   As a teenager, my parents took great pains to teach me both their correlation and causation.  I got the message.  But where is this same message today?

As I look about and among my fellow Americans today, I see two groups of responsible people fighting off their differently perceived threats to our freedom as a nation.   I see conservatives arguing for personal responsibility as if defending our rights to freedom as individuals.   I see liberals arguing for social responsibility as if defending our rights to a free society.   I see a lot of arguing, but I don’t see a lot of listening, or understanding, or giving credit where credit is due.

It seems as though we have reached an impasse in some misguided quest for a zero sum victory in all of this.   One where victory is situated in either personal or social responsibility but never both.  Which then begs the question: why not both?

Having dedicated my own tandem careers of mental health counseling and Christian ministry to the aiding of individuals through introspection and communities through intervention, I have a critical example that more Americans, especially those of the Christian faith, might well consider.   It goes like this.

The Christian scriptures bear witness to the ancient Hebrew people in their own quest for a free society.     Threats to their freedom were numerous, but always their defense was to act responsibility, both personally and socially.   Or at least that was the plan or the plot as laid out by the Jewish Torah with reinforcement by their own prophets.
  
The story of Christian scripture largely centers around what goes wrong whenever that plot is lost and people abide by only half a loaf, personal but not social responsibility or else social but not personal responsibility. 
  
The Christian New Testament bears witness to the man, Jesus, who enters the scene as a Jewish rabbi intent upon fulfilling the Jewish Torah and restoring the plan or plot he named the Kingdom of God, on earth as it is in heaven.   He took nothing away from the conservative Pharisees of his day, practitioners of personal but not social responsibility.   He did nothing to abolish their own side of the law.   But he did rile up those conservatives by insisting that if they wanted any kind of free society or entry into God’s Kingdom of heaven on earth, they would have to add social responsibility to their repertoire.    In other words, Jesus proclaimed the Gospel of the both/and, not the old zero sum game of either/or. 
 
I wonder if that’s not what is missing from our own contemporary land of feuding liberals and conservatives.  (Not to mention our own churches.) I wonder if we Americans have not lost our own plan or plot.   Have we gotten ourselves boxed in to thinking either we are personally responsible on the conservative side or else socially responsible like the liberals?

Have we lost the message of freedom that comes from both sides of the responsibility equation?  Have we lost our balance and fallen for some all-or-nothing politics of personality or society, win or lose?   If so, we will all lose and perhaps deservedly so.

It seems to me this is the time for restoring our lost plot as a nation. (And as Christians alike.) Time for another conversation.   One that reinforces the strengths of both our conservatives and our liberals, emphasizes both personal and social responsibility, and holds to account those who would fight against the other instead of for our positive sum and common good.   We still have time for a win/win if we’re only willing to have both this old and this new conversation.   

About responsible freedom.                       

Sunday, February 3, 2019

Footprints revisited


You know it well. 

It’s been around for a long time.

It’s one of the most beloved poems ever written.  Mary Stevenson was the author, and it was first published back in 1936 during the height of the Great Depression.  Goes like this:

One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord. Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.
In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand. Sometimes there were two sets of footprints, other times there was one only.
This bothered me because I noticed that during the low periods of my life, when I was suffering from anguish, sorrow or defeat, I could see only one set of footprints, so I said to the Lord,
“You promised me Lord, that if I followed you, you would walk with me always. But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life there has only been one set of footprints in the sand. Why, when I needed you most, have you not been there for me?”
The Lord replied, “The years when you have seen only one set of footprints, my child, is when I carried you.”

I thought of this poem recently upon seeing a young family walking through a shopping mall.   A young boy about 3 insisted on running ahead of his parents, only to trip and fall.   Down he went on the brightly polished floor’s surface.   It was a hard floor, and no doubt a painful fall.

“Carry me, Daddy.   Carry me!   I want you to carry me!  Carry me, Daddy!” the little fellow persisted.   

Instead, the young Daddy did something I found most admirable.    He asked his older son to reach down and take little brother’s hand, holding it carefully as the two of them walked along.   Side by side.   Hand in hand.   Safely together once again.   And then, in a while, big brother let go and here’s what happened.  I watched as the little boy walked along independently, safely, placing himself in between Daddy and big brother.   Not racing ahead as before.   But walking alongside.   Safely.

This helped me realize something about myself.

And about God.

The God who I cry out to “carry me!” during my weakest and darkest of times.  Only to find that God doesn’t pick me up and carry me after all.   Instead, he has the older son, the one named Jesus, reach down and take my little hand, holding it carefully as the two of us walk along.  Side by side.  Hand in hand.  Safely.

Footprints.

During ”the low periods of my life, when I was suffering from anguish, sorrow or defeat,” I've probably had the wrong idea about God.   I've probably assumed God picked me up and carried me.   Saved me by doing “for” me.   And in so doing I've probably missed how it was God instead asked Jesus to take my hand and walk with me.  You know.  To make two sets of footprints.   To save me by doing “with” me.  Instead of carrying me.

And so my faith now has it that Jesus died with us on the cross.   That God knew we each one had a cross we’d have to carry in this world.  One that would pull us to the hard floor or surface and leave marks or wounds or tears or other signs of brokenness.   Where “the fall” of humanity was concerned, God knew it was inevitable.   That running ahead on our own would eventually cause us pain.   The kind of pain where we’d cry out, “carry me, Daddy.  Carry me!”  

So what do you think?

Is it possible that Jesus carried his own cross in this world, was pulled down, marked, wounded, and broken?    And then resurrected by the hand of the Father?   So we could be saved by following his example, and doing likewise?   Atoned.  At-one-ed in our brokenness.  And our resurrection. Not because of what he did for us.   But with us.   Refusing to carry us.  But always offering a hand to walk with us.  

Leaving two sets of footprints.     

Must Jesus bear the cross alone,
and all the world go free?
No, there's a cross for everyone,
and there's a cross for me.

Thomas Shepherd, 1855