I’ve been absent from the blog. A few weeks ago I had a run in with Romans 14 and had to sort things out again in my mind.
Accept the one whose faith is weak, without quarreling over disputable matters. (v.1)
None of us lives for ourselves alone, and none of us dies for ourselves alone. (v.7)
Each of us will give an account of ourselves to God. (v.12)
Stop passing judgment on one another. Make up your mind not to put any stumbling block in the way of a brother or sister. (v.13)
Let us make every effort to do what leads to peace and mutual edification. (v.19)
Is what I say useful in building people up, or am I crossing some invisible line where my freedom steps on the toes of others’ consciences? Have I said something about masks or social distancing or school that rips at the seams of someone else’s convictions?
It’s good to put the pen down and let the Spirit do some mind transformation.
Who ever declared it was instinct, simply “observation” to take to your nearest social media account to bleed out reactionary wounds, declarations, and anger? It has never made me feel anything but uneasy–probably because it falls into the category of whatever you believe about these things keep between yourself and God. Blessed is the one who does not condemn himself by what he approves. (Romans 14:22)
I apologize for adding toil and trouble to the cauldron. I guess I’m as human as they come.
Two ears, one mouth–if that isn’t symbolic of the proper ratio, listening to jabbering, I’m not sure what it could mean. Yet there is a need for thoughtful, reserved humans to communicate discernment, which is the only reason I ever return to this blog.
We’ve been catching bits of the Democratic convention in the evenings, and I want to listen and understand where these politicians are coming from. I truly do, I want to see where they derive their certainty, their belief that everything would get better in a nation where godless citizens demand justice while blaming everyone but themselves.
I had to turn the TV off. These are lifelong talkers, not listeners.
This week, I spent the day with an immigrant friend, arranging a doctor’s appointment, online job searching, explaining notarios publicos. She made arepas with my kids and hugged us when we left. The next day, a public school teacher showed up on my doorstep and visited with me for four hours. We talked about everything from her concern for students this fall to the miracles God has worked in our respective marriages. She ate a meal of chicken and rice with us on the front porch, my kids scooting up close to her to inhale the deliciousness of a kind soul.
I am trying to live the life of a good neighbor, not argue the character of some tweet-hemorrhaging talking head in Washington. They care about power, nothing more.
They don’t see the damage their policies cause, the racism and classism they so hopelessly try to eliminate–is made worse by their efforts. My local school will be doing remote learning for anywhere between two and eight weeks, foreseeable longer, whether or not families have access to internet. When they return to the physical building, they’ll be segregating the English and non-English speakers for cohort purposes–under the guise of keeping one another safe. It’s just an extension of what happened when school choice became the buzz word, meant to give disadvantaged folks the advantage of electing into a better school, but actually sparking a bigger segregation movement because only the most privileged of us had the cars to transport us to better schools.
Where can we find wisdom that transcends this nonsense, this talking head business? Where can we put a plug in the trickle down effect politics has on our faith? How can we keep some things between ourselves and God as a favor to our weaker friends (v.22) and at the same time “make every effort to do what leads to peace and to mutual edification” (v.19)?
Lord, do you want my mouth open or shut?
After I read Romans 14 over and over, it became more clear to me: we Christians worry a lot about offending one another–we take it to heart, we tiptoe around issues as to avoid them. But we don’t much think about offending God. We are non sequiturs, as hopeless as the politicians we support or scorn.
Sixteen years ago, we got married. At the wedding shower, a lady from the church gifted me a Republican Women’s Club cookbook. Inside the front cover was a note,
“Hope this gets you started off on the ‘right’ foot!” I cringed then, though I didn’t quite understand why. But now I know why it was so absurd:
The kingdom of God is not of eating or drinking, or of Republican or Democrat*,
But of righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit, because anyone who serves Christ in this way is pleasing to God and receives human approval.
My two precious friends this week didn’t care one iota where I stood politically. And it wouldn’t have glorified anyone but myself if I’d have brought it up. We had fellowship, we glorified God because we didn’t indulge in petty remarks. My kids witnessed peace, mutual edification, love.
After I chewed on Romans 14, I returned to my Old Testament reading, where David has put up with King Saul’s abuse for years and years. He left. He turned off the TV and quit his social media accounts. He didn’t stay within a mile of the palace, fighting for his place in politics. He actually moved out of the country and lived as a foreigner.
David–the teenager who killed Goliath, the young man anointed by Samuel to become king–ended up behind enemy lines to preserve his soul. He lived with the Philistines for over a year, disappearing from the map for a while. He pulled a trick card, one that no one saw coming. He probably disappointed his own mother–for sure he disappointed his first wife, Michal. He had two chances to kill Saul, the man after his own life, but he didn’t do it.
He was not going to offend God.
There were people who had his back all along–they knew it was all a roundabout journey to glory. They didn’t question his motives or allegiance. He was a genuine guy. Anyone who serves Christ in this way is pleasing to God and receives human approval. (Romans 14:18)
And God made David king.
Friend, I hope you are staying the course.
I hope you’ve made up your mind to not cause a brother or sister to stumble.
But I also hope–I pray–that you are unwilling to offend God. I hope you stick your neck out for people whose voice does not carry. I hope you risk your life to love others and give them the hope Jesus offers. I hope you can toss your agenda and prestige in the garbage when He tells you it’s time to move on.
Be like David and surprise people with your relentless pursuit of Christ. Shock them–not by your words, but by ditching your Twitter account and disappearing into a distant, foreign land–perhaps to your very own neighborhood and family.
*added for my amusement. I think the apostle Paul would understand.
My heart is not proud, Lord,
My eyes are not haughty;
I do not concern myself with great matters
Or things too wonderful for me.
But I have calmed and quieted myself,
I am like a weaned child with its mother;
Like a weaned child I am content.
Israel, put your hope in the Lord
Both now and forevermore.
Psalm 131, a psalm of David
