Janet Hanson

“What is hell? I maintain that it is the suffering of being unable to love.”

Fyodor Dostoevsky

Twelve letters into our Alphabet of Life series we arrive at the verb most vital to human survival. I would despair of creating a true depiction of love, except someone already has.

After all, God created you.

Love is who you are

Made in the image of a God who is love (1 John 4:8), in love you will find your true home, your reason for being, and daily job description. “Whoever does not love abides in death,” 1 John 3:15 warns–the death of your humanity.

Over 518,000 Americans have died in the Covid pandemic as of this posting. Does it matter? Are every single one of them worthy of mention? God is not a numbers guy–he sees unique, irreplaceable gifts he’s given–each death a loss to the rest. Do you struggle to agree?

Who is worthy of love?

We are born to the lie that only the worthy–people like us, the attractive, agreeable, or otherwise remarkable–deserve our love. But the optional, selective, conditional acceptance of the world is love’s cheap imitation, and Jesus calls us to his better way.

The Learning Curve:

1. Default Position: Some people are worthy, some are not, and I choose where to draw the line.
2. Getting Warmer: Nobody is worthy, everyone is terrible, and, truthfully, so am I.
3. Epiphany: Maybe worthiness has nothing to do it!
4. Reality: I am loved by God beyond deserving, and so is everyone else.
5. Destiny: I am love, moved under the brush of a divine painter, submitted to his cross-shaped design.

With the last step, we become our genuine selves.

The root of Christian understanding is “not the will to love, but the faith that one is loved by God, irrespective of one’s worth” (Thomas Merton).

“We love because he first loved us,” 1 John 4:19 agrees.

Love’s opposite

We are complicit with evil not when we hate evil, but when we hate people, withholding love and allowing evil to have its way.

History may well remember this era as The Age of Chronic Offense–the irrational fear of other points of view, and the will to destroy those who hold them. What’s happened to us?

I have to admit, gnawing on the wrongs done to me (and my loved ones) can easily become a daily habit. But what tastes delicious in the moment–munching the remains of another’s insults, unkindness, or cruel indifference–only poisons me.

Thomas Merton warns, “There is a proud and self-confident hate, strong and cruel, which enjoys the pleasure of hating, for it is directed outward to the unworthiness of another. But this strong and happy hate does not realize that like all hate, it destroys and consumes the self that hates, and not the object hated.”

To refuse to love, especially the unlovable, is to diminish and deny our own being.

And that is as good as any a definition of hell.

Nobody loves like you

“We have been created to love and be loved” (Mother Teresa).

And nobody else will ever–in thought, word, or humble deed–love exactly like you.

Thank you for joining us here! The Thomas Merton quotes are from New Seeds of Contemplation, a book I recommend. You can subscribe to this series by scrolling to the very bottom of this site. Next time, in An Alphabet of Life: Wisdom Learned in the Verbs: M is for Meditate.

“Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.”

Martin Luther King Jr.

Benjamin Franklin warned, “As we must account for every idle word, so we must account for every idle silence.” If this is true, how do we avoid erring on either side?

Lately, I feel a bit like William Faulkner, weighed down by the utter futility of it all. “Talk, talk, talk; the utter and heartbreaking stupidity of words,” he lamented. Has there ever been a time when truth was so silenced and outrage indulged for the most petty of reasons?

Collectively haunted by a year no one wanted, shouldn’t we pause for a moment? Shouldn’t we admit our fondness for slander, and self-righteous pander to the cruel and coarse–is there room for remorse? And just one day to pray and then say “I’m sorry?”

It seems hopeless. As sure as the sun will rise tomorrow, someone will do something apparently WRONG, and others will make certain I know it.

And should I respond? Are only cowards quiet? Am I complicit with madness if I don’t speak against it?

Well, perhaps.

But I’ve good reason to be wary. Too often, my righteous rancor and your irked indignation point in opposite directions. Which leaves us both trapped in the crossfire.

Not Silent Enough

The current fascination with IMO (“in my opinion”) should alarm us. For, when stuck in “constant comment” mode, we’re deaf to the cries of more timid voices, to hidden need, to God’s concern for the unnoticed and unloved.

The wisdom found in Ecclesiastes 3 reminds us there is a time to resign from being the squeaky wheel and just listen. In the 11th verb of our Alphabet of Life series, we address the question, “At this moment, with this audience, do I speak or do I keep silent?”

Keep Silent, Until

Even when flooded with well-earned affront, our most helpful thoughts are never found “off the top our heads.” Where anger is concerned, it’s not the cream that rises to the top, but the grease, the oily residue of visceral emotion, rather than the profound.

So, there’s a time to be patient and wait, if only to reconnect with deeper, more reasonable thought. Perhaps we should all tape this reminder to our bathroom mirror:

Try reading that aloud a few times and feel your heartbeat slow.

Wisdom doesn’t demand a vow of silence, nor benign banality, but to “keep your tongue from evil, and your lips from speaking [or repeating] lies,” (Psalm 34:13). For, if we don’t resist the addictive impulse to “bite and devour one another” (Galatians 5:15), we will all end up feeling like chewed-up remains.

“Let no unwholesome words come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen” (Ephesians 4:29). We deceive ourselves if we think our times are so remarkable we are exempt from the command to speak benediction, not condemnation over others.

So, before I speak up, I must ask,

• Do my words shed some light, or simply give free publicity to darkness?
• Do my words reflect God’s love for all people, or merely people I approve of?
• Will my words be worth quoting in my obituary?

The Last Word

Orchestral conductor Benjamin Zander tells the story of a friend who, on a train bound for Auschwitz with her 8 year old brother, scolded him quite harshly for losing his shoes. Those were the last words she ever spoke to him. Her brother died, but she, miraculously, survived, emerging from that evil place with new, compelling vow:

“I will never say anything

that couldn’t stand as the last thing I will ever say.”

Words matter. Your thoughts (whether mute, or muttered, or typed in a comment) can discourage and destroy. But when patiently crafted and delivered in love, your words just might heal the world.

Thank you for joining us here! You can subscribe to this series by scrolling to the very bottom of this site. Next time, in An Alphabet of Life: Wisdom learned in the verbs: L is for Love.

“The deep knowledge that we call wisdom can only happen in the context of a community; we cannot know alone.”

Anthony J. Ciorra

Join a group? Not if I can avoid it. A true-blue Introvert, I’m plotting my exit strategy even as I arrive. To be (riskily) honest: I love people, but seldom trust them in bulk. I hear, beneath the casual chatter, the dark words left unsaid.

Group fail

But any fantasy of group-free existence is a dangerous illusion.

“Love cannot exist in isolation: away from others, love bloats into pride. Grace cannot be received privately: cut off from others it is perverted into greed. Hope cannot develop in solitude: separated from the community, it goes to seed in the form of fantasies. No gift, no virtue can develop and remain healthy apart from the community of faith,” wrote Eugene H. Peterson.

“Community is the only antidote we have to an individualism that is fast approaching the heights of the pathological…” Joan Chittister, a Benedictine sister, warned in 1990. Now, thirty years later, we’ve arrived on those pitiful peaks–lost to each other, lost to ourselves, lost to God.

Maybe it’s time to stop taking selfies, and rediscover the group photograph.

In the tenth verb of our Alphabet of Life series, we ask the question, “How do we help each other come home to us?”

Lost to us

It was a damp Sunday afternoon, a few days before Christmas, though no holiday spirit touched me. I was grocery shopping, wallowing in one of my “muttery” moods–discouraged, and angry at the cruel and careless words bombarding me on every social media side. I wondered what it means to be a Christian, when “Christians” behave no better than the rest.

Preparing for company, I piled my cart high, and joined a slow-moving line. I turned and noticed a three-piece-suited dapper-looking man standing behind me, clutching a modest basket. I urged the man to take the place in line before me. He smiled, looked me in the eye, and answered,

“I’m fine, I’m in no hurry–there’s no place I need to be!”

I replied, “Please…I know how annoying it can be when lines are long, carts are full, and you only have a few items….”

He interrupted me, smiling. “Now, what do I have to be annoyed about? It’s Christmas!”

I stared at him in disbelief, and grumbled, “Well, it seems like everyone is annoyed and irritated these days. It makes me want to never leave my house!”

“That’s why it has to start with us, you and me–you so kindly offering me your place. This is where things begin to change.”

Something about this man seemed so grounded, so peaceful, wise, and unmoved by the holiday chaos whirling around us. I took a risk, “Something tells me that you love Jesus–am I right?”

He beamed, “Ah, Jesus, Jesus. As long as we keep our eyes on him,” he pointed upwards, “it will be all right.”

“I know that,” I answered. “I spend too much time looking around me, yelling at people in my head.”

He smiled, “What are you yelling? ‘God loves you?'”

I gave him a sheepish glance. “No, not that. I’m yelling at the bullies, at the selfish and mean-spirited, because no one seems to be in charge.”

His face grew solemn. “There are good reasons to be angry–some serious stuff going on. But there is Someone in charge–you know that.”

At that moment, a smiling woman wandered over, and the man introduced his wife. Without thinking, I blurted to her, “We’re talking about Jesus!”

“I can think of no better topic,” she replied, amused.” The cashier glanced up, looking a bit stunned.

The man suddenly turned to me, and nodded his head with conviction. “I’m going to put you in my phone.” He showed me his smartphone, open to an app, a list–the name of someone with a brain tumor, another in need of a job. “I’m going to put your name in here, and I promise I will pray for you every day. Now, what do you want me to pray for?”

I almost burst into tears. It had been a long time since someone asked me that. “Pray that I won’t be so angry…no, pray that I will be like Jesus, ” I finally replied.

He laughed, “I will pray that, but you already are like Jesus!”

I shook my head, and muttered, “You don’t know…” But I smiled my gratitude, paid my bill, and we parted with hugs, and “God bless you” and cries of “Merry Christmas” to each other, and the others who stood watching, bemused.

The space in between

I walked to my car, marveling that I had just seen Jesus–not just in my new friends, but in the space between me and them. Wherever two or more of us lift our eyes (from the smoke-driven lies), Jesus will be found, despite us, among us. In that holy space, the Spirit of Jesus reminds us who we are, and what is always true. And he leads us home to us. But who is “us”?

The group project

1 Peter 3:8-9 describes a unique group project, birthed over 2000 years ago. The author of the letter uses 5 rare Greek adjectives to describe the new kind of community, a different way of being, thinking, and responding that would astound, and change, the world.

These Spirit-empowered humans were described as, (literally translated):

• Like-minded (with Jesus as the only agenda),
• Fellow-feeling (willing to rejoice or grieve with another, even in their “muttery” moods),
• Loving each other as family (tangibly praying for, caring for each others’ needs, out of gratitude to God),
• With gut-wrenching empathy–bearing the “tender mercy of our God,” even for selfish, mean-spirited bullies.
• And above all, humble-minded (letting go of their rights, joyfully taking the last place in line–the only proper position before God and others).

Even I want to be a part of a group like this! As one historian wrote of the early church, “Christianity let loose a vast, refreshing tide of kindness upon a world in which cruelty abounded.”

And history will repeat itself if we join in.

[Thank you for joining us here! You can subscribe to this series by scrolling to the very bottom of this site. Next time in, An Alphabet of Life: Wisdom Learned in the Verbs: K is for Keep].

Christ comes to the world as the example, constantly enjoining: Imitate me. We humans prefer to adore him instead.

Soren Kierkegaard

Imitate. It’s what we do. Just five minutes with a Texan friend, and I will drawl, y’all.

What could be harder to resist than belly laughter, or a luxurious yawn? We live, we learn by imitation. Need proof? Follow my one-year old grandson around, as he mimics every sound, and with cocky self-assurance, attempts even impossible grownup tasks–because he knows whom he wants to be like.

It’s called, The Chameleon Effect. As innately social creatures, we sub-consciously mirror the posture, and attitudes, and opinions of the people around us. And yet, every self-help guru admonishes, “Be an original! Be true to your unique, un-repeatable self!”

So we try. We throw out old manuals and methods–the wisdom and warnings of those who’ve gone before us. While we try to invent some new, never-before-tried-stitch, we fall apart at the seams. Look around and witness the madness of the self-made.

Bad News: We won’t discover our true self in a vacuum. Whether we like it or not, the people, and spiritual forces around us will shape and mold us into their image.

Good News: We have a choice whom we imitate. In the ninth verb of our Alphabet of Life series, we ask the important question, “Whom do I resemble? The ways of the devil, or the example of Jesus?” Shocking as it may seem, those are the only two paths the Bible offers.

Don’t Follow the Crowd

Dostoyevsky wrote, “If there is no God, everything is permitted.” Where God is ignored, the devils have their way, and humans foolishly believe we simply do what we choose to do. But, we are actually unwitting pencils in evil’s grip.

And what is evil? A parasite, a perversion of good that does everything possible to:

• rub out love and kindness,
• erase God’s plan and purpose for his creation,
• scribble over everything true or beautiful,
• draw lines of chaos and division between us.

The Bible offers tangible examples of crowd-thought we are tempted to imitate. Bitterness, rage, anger, clamor, slander, malice, sexual impurity, greed, obscene, silly, and vulgar talk, are mentioned in Ephesians 4:31-5:4. Examine just one of these symptoms of evil, and ponder how easily your thoughts/words/feet can fall in step. But don’t. Instead…

Imitate Jesus

Ephesians also describes a less-popular path. “Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you. Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us…” Here’s the biblical truth: Only those who imitate our One True Example will change the world for the better..

In Jesus’ time, a disciple was an apprentice. To follow a rabbi meant to live, travel with, and copy–to become like your master in every way. Just as,

• a child emulates his parent;
• an athlete copies her coach’s every move;
• a vessel wants only to hold something more precious and lovely than itself.

Do any of these metaphors describe you?

Even Jesus claimed he could do nothing on his own, but only what he saw the Father doing. He models for us a lifestyle: In everything, learn what the Father desires, and is doing, and then join him with all of your heart.

Imitate the good

An ancient sage once warned, “Become wise by walking with the wise; hang out with fools and watch your life fall to pieces,” (Proverbs 13:20).

Well, fools there are in abundance, but how will we recognize the wise? Are you tempted to draw your own lists–good people (approved by God), and fakes (unworthy of respect)? I am.

Jesus encountered the same fools we do (and are) today. But the line Jesus drew, between the good and the bad, must have surprised his audience. Instead of worrying about heresy and piety, the question became, “Where did you find Jesus today, and did you imitate his way?” In Matthew 25:31-46, Jesus offers examples: Did you notice Jesus today,

• hungry–for food, or for help and encouragement?
• thirsty–for water, for justice, for hope?
• a stranger, an alien, a not-welcome outsider–needing community, an advocate, a friend?
• naked and vulnerable–needing clothing, or power, or protection?
• sick, and alone–needing your tangible care?
• locked behind bars–desperate for visits, for mercy, for prayers?

The wise are alert to Jesus in his “least of these” disguises and never hesitate to offer their help.

Just yesterday morning…

…I noticed Jesus (in the guise of a homeless man), sitting, head bowed in despair, in front of Trader Joes. And as I paused by his bench, I thought, “We pretend the moral choice is between complicated and unclear, yet, the Bible keeps it simple.” Beloved, do not imitate what is evil but imitate what is good. Whoever does good is from God; whoever does evil has not seen God, 3 John 11.

Thank you for joining us here! You can subscribe to this series by scrolling to the very bottom of this blog. Next time in, An Alphabet of Life: Wisdom Learned in the Verbs: J is for Join.

A beautiful thing never gives so much pain as does failing to hear and see it.

Michelangelo

Not every voice you hear in your ear is sincere.

Just for fun, I recently rabbit-trailed through research discussing the roles and interactions between parts of the human brain. The right amygdala drew my amateur attention. This small, almond-shaped cluster (nick-named, “threat detector”) stores and interprets our response to negative emotions, especially fear.

Over time, bitter memories can build an automatic “conditioned” reaction. Those people, their ideas, these circumstances pose a threat, which I must fear, attack or avoid. Even innocent remarks or actions can trigger deep, painful memories, and the right amygdala “hijacks” the rest of the brain. Rational thought, impulse control, and empathy are drowned in visceral emotion.

And someone with a cell phone is sure to record the behavior that follows….

So, what’s the answer? How do we calm our poor amygdala down, so wisdom can have its say?
Hear, our eighth verb in our series, An Alphabet of Life, addresses the important question, “To whose voice do you tune your ear?”

Selective hearing

Jesus often addressed his teaching to those “who have ears to hear.” Why? Because, most of us don’t!

The Greek word, akoueto, “to attend, consider, understand, learn, comprehend, perceive,” suggests a deliberate attention to the deeper, quieter music beneath all the clamor. The Parable of the Sower (Luke 8:4-15) describes three types of ears guaranteed to stay deaf and unfruitful, in contrast to the more attentive ear that will hear.

1. The hardened ear…

…hears only a worn-out loop of inner complaint, and any impulse to humbly listen gets vigorously swept away.

“The seed on the path are those who hear; but then the devil comes and steals the word from their hearts, so that they won’t believe and be saved” (Luke 8:12)

To Ponder: As a teacher, every afternoon i would scrub away the day’s chalky effort, leaving a clean, blank slate for the morning. Now, too often I scribble layers of outraged defenses all over my thought life, and leave no space for God to write, or for others to change their answers.

To Do: A clean slate, every day, for every person.

2. The rootless ear…

…tunes to the empty promise of a safe and predictable world. But the shallow soil of the “easy life” will fail us when calamity comes.

“The seed on the rock are those who receive the word joyfully when they hear it, but they have no root. They believe for a while but fall away when they are tempted” (Luke 8:13).

To Ponder: The growth of an acorn sprout is invisible, as the young oak first sends taproot deep underground, in search of reliable moisture. Later, the roots spread far and wide, to deliver nutrients and water to the tree towering calmly above. Unlike a tree, I am too often concerned with the look of my foliage, neglecting the more hidden work of deepening my roots in God’s love.

To Do: Let God nourish and ground my identity, not the fickle opinion of others.

3. The distracted ear…

…is unable to focus on the only melody that matters. So, the fruit of wisdom, resilience, and generosity shrivel and die, untasted.

“As for what fell among thorny plants, these are the ones who, as they go about their lives, are choked by the concerns, riches, and pleasures of life, and their fruit never matures” (Luke 8:14).

To Ponder: The trilling, hooting instrumental racket ceases when the conductor walks on stage. A hush falls over the room. The strings lift their bows, wind players look up, and the audience holds a collective breath.

Why? Because, the sound we hear when musicians watch the baton and play their true part is art. Everything else is just noise.

To Do: Make time for silence and solitude–listening to God–until my notes are in harmony with others.

4. But, the hold-fast heart…

…will bear fruit, both beautiful and good,

“The seed that fell on good soil are those who hear the word who, when they hear the word, hold it fast in a beautiful and good heart, and bear fruit with patient endurance” (Luke 8:15).

Able to hear

The anterior cingulate cortex (ACC) interacts with the right amygdala and, (when allowed), rescues our overwhelmed brains. The ACC promotes stability, understanding, and empathy for others, as well as tolerance for uncertainty and conflict.

And how, according to the experts, can we help the ACC do its job?

Meditation.

And the Bible agrees. The daily practice of biblical meditation tunes our minds and hearts to the voice of God.

The humble can hear, 
the rooted, persevere 
and always see clear,  
what is dear.
When we hum along
to his healing song
and learn by heart
our part,
a new score--
his encore--
will restore,
the stone-deaf ear,
and calm every fear,
And we will all hear
him again. 
Amen.

Thank you for joining us here! You can subscribe to this series by scrolling to the very bottom of this blog. Next time in An Alphabet of Life: Wisdom Learned in the Verbs: I is for Imitate.

“The world is not mine for the taking. Rather, it is mine for the giving.”

Craig D. Lounsbrough

The opposite of give is not receive. It’s withhold, because generosity makes no sense. If I open my wallet, my heart, or my mind, what will be left of me?

But that’s the point. You were made to be given away. You are the gift.

The Bias Toward Self

Take my money, take my time, take advantage–you are welcome to it all. But ask me, in the heat of the moment, to give someone the benefit of the doubt, and my fist clenches tight, Yet, isn’t the assumption of good intent what I hope to receive for myself?

Now, your turn. What do you find difficult to share? Possessions? Forgiveness? Your vulnerable heart? Why is it so hard to be generous?

“The bias towards self is the beginning of all disorder,” wrote Blaise Pascal. How different this world would be if we first sought the good for each other! Thomas Merton could have been speaking directly to our time when he wrote,

“To consider persons and events and situations only in the light of their effect upon my self is to live on the doorstep of hell.”

And when we live on that doorstep, we inevitably create hell on earth for others.

The seventh verb in our Alphabet of Life series addresses the question, “What would it look like to live on the doorstep of heaven instead?”

1. You make the first move

“The measure you give will be the measure you get back,” observed Jesus (Luke 6:38). Stingy people receive stinginess in return. Haven’t you observed this to be true?

My tiny crumb of empathy
a mere teaspoonful of grace,
begrudgingly, I offer token help
while you're strengthening your case
(against me).

But with a barrel-full of kindness,
reflected on my face,
generously I, too, receive
for now I'm living in His grace
(for me).  

“It is the spirit of greed which Jesus said God hated more than any other. It is so diametrically opposite to the Spirit of God. For God forever lavishes His gifts upon the good and bad alike, and finds all His joy in endless giving.”

Frank C. Laubach

2. To give you must let go

We awake every morning encrusted with self, our souls yearning to be freed of greed. God knows this about us and offers the solution in a verb found 114 times in the Old Testament. Yadah, translated both “confess” and “give thanks”, stems from the Hebrew verb to throw, or to cast, as one would cast a stone. Perhaps the meaning evolved from the ancient posture of prayer–hands raised, fists unclenched and empty.

Every day we are commanded to confess–casting our hatred, our hoarding, our hypocrisy into the ocean of God’s mercy. Every day we are commanded to give thanks–offering back to God both small and stunning graces we foolishly think we’ve earned.

And, when we obey the call to yadah, heaven invades every hell.

3. You are the gift

Any cemetery reminds us we keep nothing except what we give away. And the ripple effect of even small gestures of grace can turn back the cruelest of tides.

Of course, you can choose to be stingy, to keep score, opening your heart and life to only the worthy few. But you’ll impress no one. As Jesus pointed out, even the wicked lavish favor on like-minded friends. God messes with our merit systems by lavishing his goodness on saints and scoundrels, on friend and foe, and expects us to do the same. “Live generously and graciously toward others, the way God lives toward you,” commands Jesus in Matthew 5:48.

A lesson

A few years ago, my husband was hospitalized with a serious illness, and eventually released with expectations of full recovery, though barely able to walk. One rainy morning, our chronically irritated (with us) neighbor saw Dave struggle to bend over to pick up the newspaper from the driveway. Though she made no comment at the time, for the next three months our neighbor rose early every morning to move the paper to our front door.

More than any cards or well-wishes could, that unexpected, undeserved, daily act of kindness left behind the scent of mercy and turned a neighbor into a friend.

What is difficult for you to give away today?

Thank you for joining us here! You can subscribe to this series by scrolling to the very bottom of this blog. Next time in An Alphabet of Life: Wisdom Learned in the Verbs? H is for Hear.

“He thought of the virtues of courage and forbearance, which become flabby when there is nothing to use them on.”

John Steinbeck

Forbear: To refrain, restrain, to resist the desire to bray that every day must go your way. To be slow to rage but to stay engaged, to patiently endure because the future is sure.

The sixth verb in our series, An Alphabet of Life, addresses the question, “How am I supposed to act in the face of that?”

The Conundrum

Do I dare to forbear
in this nightmare,
my world on the brink
of awful

I waffle…

It seems so strange,
and hard to arrange,
to respond with love,
(the kind from above)
when goodness is throttled
and hubris is coddled
and bottled for all to drink.

What is my calling
when the crowd is appalling,
and my rope feels so slender,
my heart bruised and tender,
and temperamental?

Stay gentle.

Be patient.
Endure and forbear,
with prayer.
And remember:
Your Defender is great
and will frustrate
hate!

It’s easy to doubt
what you can’t figure out.
Trust in the story
He tells, for glory
Is the ending in mind,

so be kind.

For this time you were made,
His goodness displayed
in the way you behave–
so be brave!
Forget the cost
For nothing is truly lost.
Leave one task on your list:

Persist

Forbear or despair

So, what do you do about that person who baffles, bewilders, or bedevils you? One day, frustrated by my inability to fix the world, I received a merciful deflation of my ego. God whispered, “You don’t have to figure everyone out, you know. Just love them.”

And what does that mean? “Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things,” the Apostle Paul insists, for love remembers: This moment, this crisis, this reason for outrage is not the final answer.

As declared in the 1776 Virginia Declaration of Rights, precursor to our more well-known Bill of Rights, “It is the mutual duty of all [citizens] to practice Christian forbearance, love, and charity, towards each other.” What would the Founding Fathers think of us now?

Consider the words of a nineteenth century Scottish pastor, George MacDonald. “Freedom is to be like thee, face and heart: To know it, Lord, I must be as thou art.” And how does God free us to resemble him?

By giving us each other to forbear!

1 Corinthians 13:7 Galatians 6:9-10 Ephesians 4:1-3 Colossians 3:13

Thank you for joining us here! You can subscribe to this series by scrolling to the very bottom of this blog. Next time in An Alphabet of Life: Wisdom Learned in the Verbs? G is for Give.

“Listen carefully to me, and eat what is good…”

Isaiah the Prophet

What will I eat today? Whose hand will prepare it? Will each bite nourish and delight, or will I chew on the shriveled hope, and hard, gristly heart of someone else’s last meal? In so many ways, I am what I eat eats.

In the fifth verb in our series, An Alphabet of Life, we explore the question, “Who cares what I consume?” The Bible has much to say in answer–for the human story begins with food badly chosen, and ends with a feast freely shared. And, both practically and metaphorically, the way to culinary contentment.

1. To be human is to hunger

It’s okay to admit it–you are not a superhero. You are vulnerable, dependent, and limited, and so am I. We spend our lives reaching for something–food, love, belonging, affirmation, meaning, or power. We were born wanting. Tragically, we stuff, hoard, numb, and over-commit to make the wanting go away.

I’m restless, uneasy,
My life seems off-key,
So I’ll scoop some more ice cream
And binge-watch TV.

We believe the whispered lie, “You need to be enough–only the self-made and self-sufficient matter.” But still we ache with incompleteness, we fail to arrive. Hunger points us toward the truth–only one Source can truly satisfy.

2. There’s more than enough for everyone

In the first pages of the Bible we find God creating, in astonishing variety, and abundantly providing for every human need. Divine hospitality moves undaunted through the rest of the biblical story–God generously supplies, even in the most barren, unlikely circumstances.

Jesus centered many of his miracles and teaching around a meal, and made room at the table for the forgotten and despised. He taught his disciples the proper attitude toward consumption: “People are hungry? YOU start feeding them with the little you have! I will ensure you’ll have plenty left over.” (Mark 6)

But, from the beginning we’ve shaken our fist at God and followed the path of human self-rule. At every turn, the false myth of scarcity whips us from behind. Instead of mirroring our generous Creator, we think and act like abandoned orphans, brawling for dwindling resources.

Have you noticed? Listen to current angry protest, “I want what I want when I want it. Nobody tells me what to do! I demand the freedom to do what I think is best for me!”

Consider this: The earth yields enough food to feed 10 billion people every year–1.5 times the population of the earth. Yet, an estimated 815 million people go hungry. According to the USD, Americans toss about 150,000 tons of food in the garbage every day. And, studies show, the more prosperous our nation becomes, the less generously we treat others.

The myth of scarcity permeates our politics and practice, and devastates our planet. Ask yourself, “Do I embrace, and reflect God’s extravagant generosity, or munch the fruit of a dark, self-preserving lie?”

3. What you eat, you are

The Old Testament diet restrictions sound strange to modern ears. Why does God care about what, and how, people eat? When these laws are read in the context of all commands, we see God’s intending to use his people to repair a broken world:

• Restoring order where chaos reigns.
• Replacing abuse with boundaries.
• Promoting shalom (the glad flourishing of the entire creation) where evil destroys and divides.

Consider the disastrous consequences of over-consumption of factory-farmed food, shoddy, disposable goods, and cheap, thoughtless opinion. We’ve greedily eaten from the wrong platters, and as a nation we suffer from the consequences. But, what can we do about it?

1. Pause before each “bite” and ask: Does my consumption reflect loving care for creation, or just add to the collective bloat?
2. Trust God in everything. Nutrition isn’t always tasty. Circumstances that build your character can look, at first glance, like disaster. A future grace for someone else may feel like your pointless suffering today.
3. Be nourished by the evidence of God working, his goodness shining behind every dark-clouded event. With a steady diet of courage, hope and gratitude you may become the silver lining we all need.

The Paul Diet: “Summing it all up, friends, I’d say you’ll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious–the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse.” Philippians 4:8 in The Message

Thanks for joining us here! You can subscribe to this series by scrolling to the very bottom of this blog. Next time in An Alphabet of Life: Wisdom Learned in the Verbs? F is Forbear.

“Joy is the serious business of Heaven.”

C.S. Lewis

Delight, or disgust? What is God’s view when he looks at you?

Like some cartoon buffoon, does God’s face betray clueless, contemptuous disdain?

Or, do you picture a warm smile of welcome, a concerned gaze, a voice humming a tune you thought only your heart knew?

What is it like to be God?

The ancient world was inhabited by gods every bit as capricious, vindictive, and incompetent as the humans who invented them. By stunning contrast, the biblical writers pronounced that God is not at all like us. We need a slew of superlatives to describe someone

smarter and kinder
gentler and stronger
better and braver,
more trustworthy, just, powerful, fun, and, of all things, happier than anyone you could dream up.

Researching “Delight”

I was surprised. The task seemed simple–to read everything the Bible has to say about our fourth verb in the Alphabet of Life series. Days later, I had hardly made a dent. So far, I have discovered at least ten Hebrew and four Greek verbs that can be translated, delight, and those numbers don’t include related nouns and adjectives.

Undeniably, the Bible trips over itself with delight.

For, in its pages, the heavens applaud, the earth rejoices, the seas roar, the fields exult. Wild animals, cattle, creeping things and flying birds–not to mention, the trees of the forest, the hills, mountains, desert, and coastlands–all sing for joy before the Creator. All the time.

Can you hear them?

G.K. Chesterton, in his well-known book, Orthodoxy, suggests that, beneath all creation beats the steady heartbeat of divine mirth, that “joy is the uproarious labor by which all things live.” Human beings, stuck in blind discouragement with our untrustworthy idols, “sit perhaps in a starry chamber of silence, while the laughter of the heavens is too loud for us to hear.”

The Most Joyous of All

Proverbs 8:31 depicts God “rejoicing in his inhabited world and delighting in the human race.”

How can this be true? Is God indifferent, or myopic? In the presence of planet-wide terror, is joy even an appropriate response?

To begin with, God takes suffering and evil far more seriously than we do. No one has nailed his heart down more cruelly on our behalf.

But remember–the wonders we glimpse for a moment, and soon forget, God sees anew all the time. Untethered to time, God is eternally present to an unceasing kaleidoscope of kindness, beauty and delight .

God sees before him the paths of hurt, humbling, and healing you have walked. He has been with you, and gone before you, all the way.

And he’s with you now.

Sing in the shadow

The Psalms invite us to “sing for joy in the shadow” of God’s wings. For, God loves when we come running for help, and then share his love with each other.

A few days ago, on Easter Sunday in the empty Duomo of Milan, beloved tenor Andrea Bocelli sang his joy as a prayer of hope and healing for the world. More than 35 million people have listened so far to his musical “hug for the whole world,” a short concert which ended with this less-known verse of, Amazing Grace:

“Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And mortal life shall cease
I shall possess, within the veil,
A life of joy and peace.”

Although Bocelli is blind, he sees what many sighted people miss–the expression on God’s face when he looks at this hurting world. Sorrow, concern, compassion, and righteous anger, yes. But more! God knows how it will end, he sees what he will do, what he is doing now for love of all he has made. And he invites us, especially in fear and sorrow, to tune our hearts to a creation-wide song of delight.

Thanks for joining us here! You can subscribe to this series by scrolling to the very bottom of this page. Next time in our series, Alphabet of Life: Eat