Go and do evil

The father knew it was not going to end well, and the father funded it.

We have five children. Some of them are just natural rebels. If they are reading this, I’ll let them decide of whom I speak. Oh, to be sure, all of our children have had their moments, and I wouldn’t want it any other way, but a couple of our kids, during their teenage years, just had that terrifying, terrific quality that automatically pushed against just about everything.   There’s a part of me that loves and respects a rebel. I admire the originality of a rebel, the spirit, the fire. I am a closeted rebel. Pushing against most of the conventional ideas, but too afraid to put it out there and risk getting in trouble or displeasing someone. So I admire someone who just puts it out there and doesn’t give a fuck.

One of our rebels spent months in high school grounded.  Car keys taken away, cell phone taken away.  I tried everything I could think of to try to curb her enthusiasm for risk taking, but I was wholly unsuccessful during those years. 

When this beautiful rebel turned eighteen, halfway through her senior year in high school, she announced she was going to move out.  I tried everything I could to talk her out of it.  I told her if she did, she was “on her own” with no help from me.   She didn’t care.  She was determined to do it and pointed out to me that she would do it with or without my help. 

At the time, she was finishing up high school at a small private school.  She told me she really wanted to finish, and she hoped that I would support her in continuing to pay for the things I was currently paying for:  school, books, her cell phone, an allowance that covered gas and miscellaneous items.   Everything else she was prepared to pay for herself: her rent, utilities, food. 

I struggled.

I wondered if, by continuing to pay for the things I was paying for now, I would be enabling this choice that I disapproved of.   And, let’s be honest, I was terrified for her to try to finish school while working and living on her own.   What if she didn’t finish? 

Then, for some reason, I thought of the the story of the prodigal son.   And something I hadn’t noticed before jumped out at me.  The father gave his son all the resources necessary to go out into the world.   I’m pretty certain that the father knew his son and knew that he wasn’t going to go out and live the straight and narrow.  By the time our kids are young adults we know them pretty well.  We know which ones are the rule followers and which ones aren’t.  We know which ones are cautious and which ones aren’t, which ones learn through observation and which ones learn through the hard knocks of experience. 

And the father gave the kid money to go out and fail.

I had never thought about it that way before.  I had thought about the part of the story where the father is merciful and welcomes the son back with open arms, but I just hadn’t considered that the father GAVE the kid the resources to go sin it up.  

This paints a different picture of the divine doesn’t it? 

I mean, I was raised to believe that god is all about keeping us from sin.  “Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil” 

Right?

And yet, in the prodigal story, the father basically says “yes, here you go.  I know you will be doing evil with this and here it is anyway.”  

If you’ve read many of my posts, you know I have a dubious attitude toward evil. I’m not sure that much of the stuff we’ve thrown into the evil category is evil at all.

But that aside, it’s still interesting to think that in this story, the father allowed the son to go, and knew at a minimum he would get himself in a pickle and at maximum he could harm himself. The father knew it was not going to end well, and the father funded it.

I don’t throw this story out there as a lesson in parenting, but as a thought to ponder about god. Jesus is telling us in this story what god is like.

A different perspective.

On god.

And on evil.

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Womb

Waiting and resting is hard.

In the Hebrew Bible one of the words that is used for Mercy is “Rachamim,” which comes from the root word “rechem,” or womb.

I love this word connection.  The womb is a place of darkness, a place of formation, a place in which we really know nothing but are simply being held and suspended as we wait for birth. 

So many times in life, we have no idea what to do, we are in the dark, suspended, without form and void. These are times when we feel lost, helpless, and out of control.  It is often at these times that we feel compelled to cry out to god, or to something, asking for guidance, illumination or rebirth.   It’s as though god, or the universe, or whatever you call it, has opened up a space for us – a dark space to be sure – but a space all the same.  So often, it’s in these spaces that we are created.   My darkest times are the times in which the most creative things occurred for me.  They are the times in which I was reborn. 

As we wait in these dark spaces for illumination or rebirth, we are in the space, the “womb” of mercy. All we can do simply float along as we are being held and suspended -- as we wait for the birth of what’s next.  Here we are helpless, and are able to simply receive mercy because we have nothing else to bring to the situation.  We are without resources.  We are poor in spirit.  We have thrown our hands up in despair. There is nothing we can do but wait.  Waiting and resting is hard.

Blog image is: "Black Womb" by Piotr Ruszkowski. "

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Mercy not sacrifice

  "But go and learn what this means: 'I desire mercy, not sacrifice'" 

 When I first latched onto this as my favorite verse, it was because Jesus starts the sentence by saying “but go and learn what this means.”   This implies that we don’t know, and we won’t know, and that we will have to spend some time figuring it out.  I like a good challenge.

 And I've found that it's the truth.   I don't know and I’m still trying to figure it out. 

Amongst followers of Jesus, and socially conscious persons, and in-general-do-gooder-types, there is this pervasive sense that if we are not sacrificing, we are failing in some fundamental way.  For the Jesus-types, we are not “picking up our cross daily”.  For the others we are not practicing a high enough level of social consciousness and should be sacrificing more for the cause. 

 But maybe we've got that all wrong. 

We must have made it into something it's not because Jesus is saying he does NOT desire sacrifice. Therefore:

Sacrifice is NOT what “picking up your cross” means. 

Sacrifice is NOT what following Jesus means. 

 Then what IS IT? 

 Mercy

 Sacrifice is hard sometimes, but it’s not nearly as hard as mercy.   I can make a sacrifice even when my heart’s not in it and I don’t want to.  I can make a sacrifice simply out of obligation or guilt or legalism.  I can make a sacrifice through gritted teeth and clenched fists.  I can make a sacrifice for recognition, or glory or honor.

But mercy. Mercy cuts through a lot of bullshit.   Try summoning up mercy by sheer willpower, through a clenched fist or gritted teeth, or simply because it’s the “right” thing to do.   

Your heart has to actually be in mercy. 

You kind of have to work through stuff in your own heart to get to mercy. 

To live mercy, you have to know what you feel, what you’re angry about, and what you want.   

 When I was 28 a therapist told me to spend two weeks doing nothing out of obligation, but doing only those things I WANTED to do.  Everyone should do this exercise -maybe periodically throughout their lives.  It sounds selfish, but it was transformational.  (Keep in mind this happened to me 25 years ago, so I'm not kidding when I said that I'm still trying to figure out mercy not sacrifice).

 At first this "do what you want" thing is just a free-for-all in self-indulgence and it’s kind of fun when you have been given permission by a mental health professional. 

 After a time, you begin to realize that many of the things you are not doing because you thought you didn’t like doing them, you actually WANT to do after all.  You also realize many things you were fantasizing about doing, you actually don’t want to do. 

In a nutshell, by practicing a time of grace, you learn your truth in ways that you will never learn it when obligation and legalism are in play. 

 You can even just play the game in your head.  In some ways it’s what we are doing when we think about what we’d do if we won the lottery.  We are playing a thought experiment with Grace.  If there were no financial limitations to my life – who would I be?  What would my values be?     It’s a great exercise in self-awareness. 

 Let yourself play out grace fantasies and see what you learn.   Go shopping and tell yourself you have all the money in the world and can buy anything you want.   What do you observe about what you really want if all limitations are removed?   Imagine yourself just walking away from the situation that you feel trapped in right now.  What do you observe about that feeling of leaving it?  Imagine getting the thing you fantasize about -the house, the car, the girl, the guy, the sex, the food, the body, the vacation, the alcohol, the drugs, whatever; play the fantasy out all the way.  Is it what you really want? 

 Grace uncovers truth.

 Truth is the only way we can get to mercy.  

 Obligation and sacrifice can blind us so that we don’t know what we feel, what we want, or who we are.  We can only see what “should” be done, or what “must” be done.  We can only see the sacrifice that is needed. 

 We can give to someone that we hate, that we are angry with, or that we feel nothing for and still feel good about ourselves. 

 “Therefore if you are offering your gift and remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar.  First go and be reconciled to them, then come and offer your gift.”

 First mercy. 

 Then sacrifice. 

 A friend of mine recently left a situation where she was ministering to people in the inner city.  She felt bad about “abandoning” those people who needed her. 

 But, perhaps when we give to people out of a sense of sacrifice and obligation – perhaps this is when we have truly abandoned them.  The connection and intimacy is gone.  They are reduced to objects and recipients.

 You know how it feels when you are the recipient of someone's sacrifice?  They roll their eyes, or sigh heavily? You want to just shout out, “forget it!!  I’ll do it myself!!  Don’t put yourself out!!!” 

 You know how it feels with that person who is always giving, giving, giving and loves being the martyr?

 You know how it feels in bed, when sex is given out of obligation?

 You feel empty. 

 Disconnected

Objectified. 

Abandoned. 

Abandoned by the passions of the giver. 

 Maybe this is why children stay away from the put-upon parent.  Maybe this is why couples stop working as a team because it’s just not worth having to ask and getting the feeling you are asking too much.   Maybe that is why long-term marriages grow cold.  Not because they are bored with each other and need more adventure and playfulness in the bedroom, but because they have adopted the idea that because they are married, sexuality is an obligation rather than a gift. 

 Sacrifice instead of mercy. 

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