The Subversiveness of Sacrifice

We live in a society that elevates the individual. We have a tendency in America to see ourselves as the center of the universe. Statements such as “I don’t like what the government is doing with my tax dollars,” or “I don’t like what my church is doing so I’m not giving my money to it” show our self-focus. We don’t seem to realize that we are part of a larger community.

Mother Teresa said “If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other.” It’s pretty hard to have peace when one’s chief aim in life is self-preservation. Dying to self and to self-interest is fundamental to being a follower of Jesus. We have to have a broader view of life than just what benefits us if we are to be light and salt for the world.

Sacrifice is integral to discipleship. Consider this quote from Thomas Merton: The sacrifice of our own will is necessary and pleasing to God whenever there is question of renouncing our individual, private good for a higher and more common good that will work both for our own salvation and the salvation of others. What matters then is not precisely what the sacrifice costs us, but what it will contribute to the good of others and of the Church. The norm of sacrifice is not the amount of pain it inflicts, but its power to break down walls of division, to heal wounds, to restore order and unity in the Body of Christ.

I wonder how Christianity would be perceived by observers if we who claim to be Christian were more focused on the common good, on breaking down walls of division, healing wounds and being bringers of real salvation—not just asking “are you saved?” but actually saving others by feeding, companioning, and loving them? Maybe if we were genuinely interested in the welfare of all with whom we share this planet, others would know who we follow without us having to tell them.

Such sacrifice, as Merton notes, does not have to be painful. Sacrifice is simply putting the interest of another ahead of my own self-interest. It is most often done in small, unobtrusive ways. It can begin by thinking communally rather than individually. If our decisions and choices are driven not by “me” and “mine” but by “your” and “our” that alone will change how we live as residents of this world.

Imagine how the world might be different if we widened our view and opened our hearts, minds and resources for the sake of others.

Reflection on Psalm 23

Here's my reflection on Psalm 23 written for the Mulberry Methodist newsletter as part of our summer sermon series on Psalms.

Reflection on Psalm 121

Here's the link to the reflection I wrote for the Mulberry Methodist newsletter on Psalm 121.

Falling Down and Getting Up

At SoulFeast a couple of years ago, I remember hearing Trevor Hudson, a South African pastor say, “We fall down; we get up.” He was making the point that our lives are a journey, and that even when we think we have progressed, we still fall down. Our whole lives will be a process of falling down.

The key is the getting up part of this phrase. Falling down is part of our human condition, but getting up is what transforms us from the realm of miserable failure to that of hopeful saints. In getting up, we affirm God’s mercy toward us, and we live in grace, confident of our forgiveness.

I am being reminded of this because I had a recent, and still tender, fall. Not a physical fall, but an experience of selfishness where I hurt another. It is tempting to wallow in my wretchedness, and yet, if I choose that course, I turn away from God into my own self-centered guilt.

As much as I regret my behavior, I more regret the hurt I caused. My asking the person for forgiveness does not guarantee that they forgive me, and they are under no obligation to do so. Like Peter, when he denied Jesus three times, I’ve wept bitterly. But also like Peter, I get up and keep moving ahead.

We don’t like to see the ugly parts of ourselves. We would always rather think that we are “good” people, comparing ourselves to ax murderers and other folks who do heinous deeds. The reality is, though, that there is much junk within, and every now and then, it comes out and we fall. It’s why we need forgiveness. It’s why we need a Savior. It’s why grace is so transformative. Our ability to admit and not excuse our falling helps us to recognize that we are not so different than the ax murderer, and grace is available for us both.

Peter and Judas both betrayed Jesus, but while Judas could not get up from his falling, Peter did. Christ’s grace and forgiveness got him up and going. May it do so for me, and for us all when we fall down.

Reflection on Psalm 130

Here's the link to the reflection I wrote for the Mulberry newsletter on Psalm 130.

The Distortion of Being on Top

I’m reading a book called Celtic Christian Spirituality: Essential Writings – Annotated and Explained. Rev. Mary Earle has written the annotations. The book covers a variety of themes prevalent in Celtic Christian spirituality, and includes both poetry and prose.

Recently I read this quote from Pelagius: “No one is more ready to pity the exile or the stranger than someone who knows the effects of exile. No one offers lodging to a homeless guest so much as someone who has themselves been dependent on the generosity of others. No one is more likely to feed the hungry or to give a drink to the thirsty than someone who has themselves suffered hunger and thirst. No one is so ready to cover the naked with their own clothes than someone who knows the pain of nakedness and cold. No one is more likely to come to the aid of people who face troubles, misery, and hardship than those who have themselves experienced the misfortune of troubles, misery, and hardship.” Earle’s annotation on this passage includes this observation: “The danger of wealth is not the wealth itself, but the isolating effect it may have on the one who holds the riches. It is easy to forget what it is like to be hungry, homeless, thirsty, or naked when we never have to worry about the next meal, our child’s health, or having adequate housing.”

Most everyone I know well fits into the category of ones holding the riches, myself included. I am convicted by the remarks of Pelagius and Rev. Earle. When I read them, my first thought was of the young people at our southern border and the families that are struggling to escape the violence of gang activity, if not for themselves, at least for their children. How can I make a sweeping statement of judgment when my own children grew up in safety and security?

My viewpoint is that of one holding possessions and power. It’s a distorted view of reality, and it endangers me because the temptation is strong toward self-preservation rather than self-sacrifice. God must surely be crying—for the families who believe the risk of staying home is greater than the risk of leaving, and for those who believe the risk of compassion is greater than the risk of comfort.

I pray that I will move from the safety that endangers me to the sacrifice that leads to wholeness. Jesus said “I am the Way.” May I be part of the Way for others by following the Way down.

Adopt the attitude that was in Christ Jesus:

Though he was in the form of God,

   he did not consider being equal with God something to exploit.

But he emptied himself

   by taking the form of a slave and by becoming like human beings.

When he found himself in the form of a human,

   he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death,

even death on a cross.

                                                                                (Philippians 2:5-8)

Reflection on Psalm 42

Here is a link to the reflection I wrote for the Mulberry Street United Methodist Church newsletter on Psalm 42, the fifth Sunday of our summer sermon series on Psalms.