Go Easy

Jude is a letter in the New Testament of the Bible.  It is one chapter.  A brief word.  The twenty-second verse says, “Go easy on those who hesitate in the faith,” (The Message).  The New Revised Standard Version puts it this way, “have mercy on those who are wavering.”

So, dear reader, who doubts.  Who is not sure what to believe.  Who wonders about God.  Or who doesn’t care.  Your hesitation in faith is a mystery to me, even as my own belief is a mystery.  I cannot NOT believe, and I cannot understand why anyone doesn’t believe.  For me the evidence of God is as clear as a gorgeous sunset, or a ruby-throated hummingbird.  How could this be without a Creator?

For me the evidence of God is as tangible as Jesus, who lived among us, as scripture says, “full of grace and truth.”  His life is undeniably unique, and dare I say it – Godly!  How could this be unless he was God in the flesh?

For me the evidence of God is as amazing as the addict who finds sobriety, as mysterious as the compassion of a Mother Theresa, as tender as kindness offered to a stranger.  How could this be unless there is a Spirit hallowing human life?

Still, some of you don’t believe.  Now, that’s the real mystery.  Some will point to the tragic, cruel, even wicked events and persons in the world as a denial of a loving God, but how do you explain goodness, truth, beauty . . . and mercy? 

So, I am dumbfounded by unbelief.  But Jude counsels me to go easy.  God went easy on me for several years.  Indeed, God has been easy on me my whole life.  I suppose I can go easy, too.  Isaiah the prophet said about the Messiah, “a bruised reed he will not break.”  Easy does it.  

Epic Journey

Epic journeys are commonplace in these times.  Thousands have climbed Everest.  Men have walked on the moon.  I know several people who have walked the Appalachian Trail.  A teenage girl from Holland, Laura Decker, sailed around the world by herself, finishing in January of 2012.  I have contemplated a bicycle tour across America.

Why do we humans have a need for such adventures?  We like to test our limits, as Robert Browning wrote,

“Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp,
Or what's a heaven for?”

The Bible has a cautionary tale about human striving and ambition.  As the ancients built the tower of Babel they did so saying, “Let us make a name for ourselves.”  As medieval architects constructed grand edifices intended for the worship of God I suspect there was a thin line between pious devotion and human pride.

I am writing this in early December, contemplating epic journeys, like the one Joseph and Mary took to Bethlehem from Nazareth.  By modern standards it seems like nothing, only 100 miles.  Still, walking from the hills of Galilee to the mountains of Jerusalem would have been an eight to ten day journey, with the threat of robbers along the way.  Every image we have of that journey shows Mary on a donkey, but the scripture mentions no beast of burden.  She walked. 

And when Jesus was born we are told that shepherds came to witness, telling Mary of angelic messengers announcing his birth.  Mary, we are told, pondered these things in her heart.

I wonder if the longest journey we make has nothing to do with mileage or terrain but has more to do with heart-pondering.  The reason we make epic journeys and test the limits probably has less to do with how much are bodies can take as it does with a desire to discover what we’re made of – who we are.  I wonder what Mary and Joseph learned about themselves on that journey to Bethlehem?  As Jesus grew and chose a path that his parents likely would not have chosen for him, that too was a journey he was taking them on.  What did Mary ponder as she witnessed his crucifixion?

The most epic journeys are about self-discovery, journeys that require no special equipment or extraordinary endurance.  The Christmas story invites us to go on an epic journey, to see if we can travel the same road Jesus trod.  It looks so pleasant at the stable entrance, but terrifying at Golgotha.  This epic journey tests our character, in order to discover what we’re made of.  Such a journey might just be our salvation.  After all, isn’t that what we hope our epic journeys are for?