Brutality and History

Most of human history has been characterized by the powerful ruling over the weak through brutality and fear. A quick survey of history will show one empire after another conquering as much of the world as they could. Big, powerful nations get the headlines in our history books: Assyria, Babylonia, Persia, Greece, Rome. Many of the most famous leaders were also quite brutal: Caesar Augustus, Hannibal, Attila the Hun, Herod the Great, Alexander the Great, and plenty of familiar names from the twentieth century.

For most of history, most people have had to cope with oppression. They have fought for survival, trying to avoid the reach of the powerful. This is just the way of human history. Philosopher Thomas Hobbes described human life as "nasty, brutish, and short." He had a lot of evidence for his point.

There has always been incentive for the powerful to oppress the weak. The powerful can get what they want. They can provide some measure of protection for the oppressed. The powerful make sure to kill all the right people to ensure the outcome they desire. The domination of the strong is just the law of existence. 

One exception to this rule, flawed as it may be, has been the United States of America. Objective history will reveal plenty of abuses of this nation, from slavery to slaughter of Indigenous Americans to internment of Japanese American citizens during World War II. But for most of American history, our leaders have acknowledged the danger of rule by brute force and fear tactics. Leaders have gone out of their way to justify any violence and claim the moral high ground. We Americans know that we are not like most nations in history. We look down on the brutal dictators of any century. We launched a revolution to free ourselves from oppression.

But now we find American brutality being justified without any claim to moral high ground. The world is a violent place, our leaders remind us, and the strong are right to dominate the weak. Our national interests are all that matters. We take what we want and need because we can. We use force on our own citizens and dare local officials to stop the feds. We bomb foreign nations at will, with no authorization from Congress. We bomb boats and kill people in the open sea, stating categorically that only drug smugglers have died. Meanwhile, Congress is too afraid of raw power and retribution to provide any check on executive power. 

What we Americans fail to realize is that most of history has been like this. The strong have crushed the weak, because they can. The strong dare anyone to stop them. Leadership is defined by what you can get away with. And these stories are the stuff of history.

So now, Americans, welcome to normal history. It doesn't feel so good to me.

Kid fun, kid frustration

Old people find children delightful, almost universally. A kid at a retirement home immediately becomes the center of attention. Whether it's a baby or a third grader, elderly people, and adults in general, just love seeing kids.

Maybe the little ones remind us of our own kids or our own childhood. Maybe we like imagining what these children will become. Maybe we want to make up for missed opportunities to love on children.

But what makes kids so delightful?

The joy of kids is so genuine and untainted. They squeal with delight. They jump and dance around. They talk incessantly about their happiness. The folks around happy kids feed on that joy. Adults can capture, just for a moment, the bliss of simple contentment.

Little kids also openly express their bad feelings. They may be tired, or angry, or disappointed, or frustrated. They let it all out with plenty of decibels.

But the adults don't usually feed on those bad feelings. We feed on the joy, but not the sadness. That's what makes kids so much fun. The good times are wide open, and the bad times will soon be gone.

Why don't we "catch" the bad vibes? Adults usually know the source of those bad feelings. The kid is tired, or hungry, or impatient, or disappointed. Knowing the source of the discomfort, we also know that the bad feelings are temporary. They will resolve, fairly quickly. The child will get rest or food or whatever they need. The bad feelings will be soon be gone.

Now to the child, the situation seems impossible to resolve. They have good reasons to feel all those big feelings. That's even healthy. They have every reason to cry or whine or complain.

But adults don't feel overwhelmed by the kid's emotions. Adults know the cause of the discomfort, and know that it will soon be all better. Even so, adults should acknowledge and validate the kid's bad feelings. "That's frustrating, isn't it, Buddy?" "I know you don't want to share the toy, but you will have your turn soon." "I know you feel bad right now; let's get some rest."

Sometimes adults may need to allow an uncomfortable situation to continue for a while, so that the child can develop some patience, or unselfishness, or perseverance. 

I think this is how God deals with us.

He delights in our delight. He stays with us in our bad feelings, knowing that our situation will resolve. He sometimes allows hardship to continue, but knows that we will grow through it.

Adults have enough experience to see that kids' hardships are temporary. But somehow we fail to realize that our own difficulties will also resolve. 

I'm glad God knows it, and loves us even when we pitch a fit.

Try This Restaurant

Here's a new food service model. Imagine this kind of restaurant.

You get seated in a nice, comfortable booth, meet the server, and place your order.

Your food arrives so quickly it surprises you. And it's good. It's hot, tasty, seasoned well, healthy portions. 

Then, before you finish your entree, the server puts another dish on the table. It seems like the server read your mind, because you happen to love that dish. "No charge," says the server. Well, OK, that sounds great. You are not quite full, so you eagerly dig into the unexpected treat. Soon you're getting full. But before you can finish the treat, the server shows up with three new dishes, again, no charge.

"We are actually full now," you advise the server. She replies, "You liked that other food so much, we thought you would like this too. Don't worry, you don't have to eat it all, but surely you want to taste it." It does look and smell amazing. By now you know the chef is talented. So you get a forkful of everything. Some is especially delicious. 

Then you look up as the server places five more dishes on the table. She announces, "Based on the dishes you really liked, we prepared these delicacies for you. Again, no charge, and feel free to taste as much as you like."

This cycle only ends when you stand up and leave the table. You know you've had good food, but instead of feeling satisfied, you feel sluggish, bloated. You don't even remember everything you ate. But it was a very good deal to get all that food for the price of one entree.

So, in a couple of days, you head back to the same restaurant. This time, they really know what you like, so the endless menu offers all your favorites and lots of new, exquisite fare. Now you love this restaurant. You go there several times a week. You invite friends. You get to-go boxes to tide you over until your next visit. You learn that you can Door Dash this place, and now you can get it anywhere, anytime, as much as you like. You get peppered with alerts, reminding you that the food is waiting, just a click away.

You know that life is good, because you can get all the food you can stand, all the time, no restrictions.

But eventually, something doesn't feel right. Can you be addicted to food? Constantly in the back of your mind you are wondering, "What kind of snack can I get right now? Let me check." You know that in 20 minutes you can have whatever you want and some glorious surprises too.

But it doesn't feel right. When did you decide to let someone else choose your menu? When did you decide that in every spare moment you need to be eating? And look at your health. Even all that good food...it's just too much. You have forgotten what even feels like to be hungry. You feel caught.

Not only is the blessing of food now hurting your body, it's hurting your soul. You are not able to concentrate. Your relationships suffer. You feel isolated. 

Something has to change, and only you can change it. Maybe you can find some friends who are also ready to get out of the trap. It's so counter cultural. But you know that bucking the culture leads to freedom.

Who's in charge of the menu of your mind?

On Being and Doing

We call ourselves human beings, but it seems like we put a lot more stress on our doing. It's actually difficult to describe ourselves without talking about what we have done. We can talk about careers, hobbies, families, and it all seems to revolve around what we do.

I've been meditating on human being and human doing.

If I want to know who I am, I tend to look at my circumstances and choices and activities. These external things shape me into who I am. I'm a pastor, a farmer, a neighbor, a reader, a gardener, a hiker, a kayaker. From this perspective, being is a result of doing.

But what if I reverse that? I can start with my identity. I am a creature made by and loved by God. I was born in North America in the 20th century. I am a son, a brother, a husband, a father. I have a relationship with God through Jesus Christ. He tells me how precious I am to him. Jesus even died for my sins and conquered death for me. He forgives me. He promises never to leave me. He calls me his friend.

Knowing who I am, then, shapes what I do. I can let the life in me flow out through my decisions, my career, my family. Who I am overflows in what I do. This is the perspective of a human being.

If what I do determines who I am, then I must constantly produce. I must always prove my worth. I have to keep busy. Failing to work can jeopardize my identity.

It is much better to be grounded in my identity first, and let my life flow from there. Knowing who I am, in Christ, lets me receive forgiveness and lets me rest. That sounds like real life.

God in his mercy helps me untangle my twisted thoughts, so that I can see my true self in him. And this, I am discovering, is a life-long process. And it is a process that leads to life.

Noise in My Head

I tend to live in my head. As an enneagram 5, I gravitate toward thoughts, ideas, and reflection. I often don't really know how I feel. It takes effort for me to feel my feelings, rather than thinking about my feelings. I also minimize the signals from my body. If I'm tired, hungry, weepy, energetic--I often dismiss those messages. 

I need to start listening. And watching. And being.

My mind is so consumed with thoughts and analysis that I am turned inward. I may be thinking about external things, but the work is internal. This swirl of problems, plans, and possibilities deafens me to the moment. 

But I am getting better. I'm learning to take deep breaths and enjoy them. I'm noticing my far off thoughts that remove me from the moment. The weather last weekend was spectacular, especially for August. I enjoyed time outdoors, playing with the grandchildren, feeling grateful for the sun on my skin and the breeze in the trees. 

When there's too much noise in my head, I miss out on the love around me. God is constantly speaking through his creation and his creatures. He's revealing his gentle, powerful love. If I'm too busy, too preoccupied, I miss it. When I miss God's love, I'm really missing out. I'm missing out on life. That's no way to live.

Waiting

After Jesus died and was buried, the disciples had to be confused. They had followed this man for three years, and their whole lives were wrapped up in his ministry. He was such a young man, they surely expected to keep following his ministry for years.

But now he was gone. He had tried to prepare his followers for this moment, but they didn't get it. 

It was the Sabbath, so they could not travel far. They just waited. And they didn't really know what they were waiting for. Their lives had just been turned upside down.

Holy Saturday gives us the time to reflect on all the evil of this world. 

And Jesus can handle all the evil of this world. Just wait.

Friday

It is Good Friday.

Jesus refused to fight back. He let evil come at him with all its force. He was accused of crimes he never committed. He was betrayed by one of his best students. He was deserted by all his other followers. His mom looked on, powerless to help. People of his faith accused him of betraying the faith, or anything else that would stick. They took him to the occupying enemy, now accusing him of treason. In that court he was condemned by a judge who knew he was innocent. He was beaten and mocked.

He was given the death penalty.

Good Friday is the day of his defeat. 

Jesus absorbed all the evil this world could muster. And he turned it all around for good.