Faith Venture

In the space of a few days, I went from the Christkindlmarkt in Nuremberg to the Christkindlmarket in Chicago. A few German women I knew remarked while walking through the market in Nuremberg, “I just love Christmas.” I guess most of who live in nations that have predominantly Christian traditions do. The inviting red and white striped tents (peppermint?) emanating aromas of food and drink or stuffed with beautiful decorations and gifts certainly lifts your spirits.

Thanksgiving is often one of the few real breaks I take. I read a couple of books. Only watched one football game, though (as a kid I watched many). Visited downtown Chicago.

One of our recent family traditions has been to view the windows at Marshall Fields in Chicago. It had exquisite window decorations that told a magical story. Since the takeover by corporate retail giant Macys, the charm has disappeared. First they cut the number of window displays. This year, the theme was wishing and the few displays showed characters wishing for brand names of items that could be found inside.

Well, I’m thankful for much in my life. Although there have been the inevitable struggles, I’m blessed in so many ways. And I wonder what God has in store for me for the last third of my life (or whatever, who knows?). But I’m not wishing. Wish doesn’t cut it. It’s more like anticipation. Sort of the meaning of advent–putting ourselves in the attitude of anticipating the birth of Jesus.

We know the story. That’s not the point. Our attitude is the point. I’m not wishing, or looking for more stuff. I’m waiting in anticipation of Jesus coming into my life. Thankful for what God has done and thankful for what He will do.

Ignatius Loyola, medieval contemplative and founder of an Order, said your heart lives either in consolation or desolation. Never make decisions when your heart is in desolation.

I don’t think he was talking about bi-polar disorder where you have wild mood swings between “manic” and “depressive” states. There are pharmaceuticals for that. If you have that, see a psychologist. But if we look honestly at ourselves, we’ll notice that sometimes we seem close to God (consolation). Everything, if not great, looks like there will be a positive outcome. I feel at peace. Sometimes God seems far away (desolation). Despair captures the soul. You feel unloved and alone.

Loyola was right. Be aware of your own feelings. If you are in desolation, don’t make a big decision. Don’t decide to quit your job and become a hippie poet. Don’t leave your spouse. Whatever. Tomorrow is another day. You will balance. Of course, if you notice you are in desolation for longer periods, seek help. See a friend, pastor, counselor. Don’t live in despair.

I have been studying John’s gospel for some time. In the middle of it (around chapters 14-16), Jesus is giving his close friends and chosen leaders instructions about the changes their lives will experience after he is gone. He said that they were contented today, but tomorrow they would be scattered and depressed. But then shortly afterwards, they would be overjoyed.

He also said they wouldn’t understand until it happens.

Sure enough. In a few hours Jesus was arrested, taken before various authorities, condemned to death and hung on a cross. And those friends of his scattered. All were in despair. It happened so quickly that they could not remember Jesus’ words or see the big picture.

Then came the resurrection. They were back in consolation–that is in peace with God. Then they made wise decisions. We are the descendents and recipients of the fruits of those decisions.

It’s not so much “don’t despair.” It happens to us all at times. It’s really about recognizing what state our heart is in and then knowing what to do about it.

John includes a curious story. Like most stories about Jesus, it’s familiar. In fact, it is so familiar that we often just read through it without letting the emotions of the story sink in.

Jesus had left Jerusalem and the region of Judea where the authorities were trying to kill him and was about half-way north toward Galilee. He received a message from two of his best friends that their brother was very sick. They wanted him to come down to Bethany and heal him.

Jesus doesn’t go right away. He says it’s only a trick and that this will show the greater power of God. Then he hears that Lazarus has died. That doesn’t even seem to faze him.

But when he arrives and sees the anguish of his friends Martha and Mary and of their friends, he is deeply touched. It’s almost as though he never considered how they would feel waiting on him. When he felt their pain, he cried.

How often do we know what we’re doing, yet fail to communicate with others? How often do they misunderstand us and jump to the wrong conclusion? I bet many of the problems of people in the world, even huge political problems, can trace their roots to a cause such as this.

Jesus felt their pain and cried with them. Whatever your picture of Jesus, add to it that he was an emotional human being. Shocked? Don’t be. He at times exhibited anger, outrage, impatience, maybe even fear (or at  least trepidation).

The key is that he always mastered his emotions. He didn’t dwell on them. After he shared a moment of grief with his friends, then he took command of both himself and the situation and told Lazarus to walk out of the tomb. That shocked everyone. They imagined all manner of morbid stuff. But just as Jesus said before he left for Bethany, Lazarus was just “asleep”  and showed no signs of having been dead and buried. When Jesus makes you well, you’re well all the way.