The questions, right and wrong

I had one of those experiences last week when a blog post elsewhere triggered a memory.  It connects to a blog from Rachel Held Evans called, Is doubt an STD?  At least I think I have that right.  You should be able to find it if needed.  I don’t know how to link to it, and you really don’t have to read it to get the point of my reflection here.  Basically, it involved the idea of some minister or other christian leader assuming that doubt was caused by sexual activity.  So when a young person came wanting to discuss doubts, they would change the topic and ask who they were sleeping with!   I did comment on their thread, but it was a late comment and the thread was quite long.

So, I will throw out my story here with names changed, in hopes that it will help someone else, because I really wish I had known a better way to respond at the time.  My opinion here is basically that, if someone won’t answer the question you are asking, it is not right for them to simply change the subject to something else, particularly if it is what I call a “fishing expedition.”  That is, they are trying to find out something else about you, that you did not volunteer and that may or may not even have a bearing on the question.

So, here’s the story.  It took place about 4 or 5 months after I graduated from college.  I was one of those unfortunate souls who could not seem to find my way with those of the opposite sex.  I had had only 3 dates in my life at that point.  I had no shortage of interest, having had numerous crushes, all followed by rejection, which led to depression, which often lasted longer than the original crush.  All of the crushes were on perfectly acceptable boys from church.  Over the summer though, my sister had introduced me to someone who actually seemed to like me.  Unfortunately, he did not share my faith, so I had told him I would not date him again.

In self defense, it seemed, I had nursed a crush on someone else past the point where I should have long since given up.  I realized I needed help getting out of the pattern of crush, rejection, depression though.  After all, I was also actively job hunting and really could not afford to be seriously depressed.  I racked my brains trying to figure out who to approach for advice on this.  It really seemed I would need someone older and wiser than someone my age.  I finally decided to go to someone I will call Dana, who had known me since I was 13.  She had a reputation for being hard on people who were dating people she disapproved of, but since I had not been up to anything, I figured that was a moot point.  She was normally quite discerning and knew me well, I thought.  We had had many discussions about life and God.

Eventually I screwed up my courage and went to see her.  We dispensed with the pleasantries and I asked my question.  Maybe it was actually two questions.  First was how on earth I could recognize when someone simply was not interested, so I could move on, hopefully sooner, rather than after wasting months moaning over them.  The second, related question was how I could get over them, without falling into a deep depression every time.

Her response was to ask me who I had a crush on.  Now in my head, I wanted to know why she wanted to know and what difference it made. But I gave the name of the guy, someone who had often joined me in late night, after meeting conversations with her.  All I recall of her response to that was that she said I already knew the answer.  Okay, I had actually come there, because I figured it was time to get over him, right?  I was a little nettled that she seemed to think he was so wrong for me.  After all, to that point, at least in my mind, he knew me better than any other male on earth.

So I moved on to the second question.  I can’t recall her answering that at all.  But she did tell me  how until she met her husband she was just using all the guys she dated.  Whoa!  In my mind she was now accusing me of using people, something I had never ever done.  I was hurt and I was angry.  I had wasted an hour or more spilling my guts to her and she hadn’t helped me at all!  I left and vowed I’d never open up like that to her again.  I think the anger somehow helped me bypass the worst of the inevitable depression.

Eventually I forgave her, but you know, I really never trusted her as a friend after that. Where once I had been a sort of protege, we simply were not close as adults.  That was sad, but it’s not the point I want to make here.  You see, thinking of the situation, and stories I had heard of others who somehow ran afoul of her standards for us, I really think she was on a fishing expedition.  She was fishing for some sort of sin, and most likely of the sexual variety.  Perhaps that she would have known how to deal with, whereas clueless, socially awkward girls were a mystery to her.  I should have known, I suppose, given that she had been popular when young, that she would have had no clue to how the unpopular girls operated.  But I am surprised that she was not able to just say, “I don’t know”  in answer to my questions, instead of fishing for sin.

My point is this though, if you go to someone with a sincere question, whether it be about doubts or the mysteries of relationships, you have a right to a sincere answer.  You have a right to question, and you have a right to be heard.  Someone who changes the subject, particularly to something very personal, has their own agenda.  Whether or not their agenda hits home, you have a right to call them on that.  I can only wonder how my encounter would have gone, had I come right out and demanded to know why she thought the name of my current crush mattered.  The real question was not how do I get over so and so, but how do I get over rejection.  I’m not at all sure that she had much grasp on how many of us were driven by rejection in our lives, sometimes in directions that made things worse instead of better.  What we needed was not judgement, but healing.

So here’s my advice.  When someone answers your honest and sincere question with another question, particularly one that makes you squirm, that is too personal, don’t accept it.  Turn it right back to them with something like, why would you ask a thing like that?  They are the one who is trying to sidestep the topic, why not bring it right back to where you started?  At the very least, if they are honest, they will tell you their agenda.  If you don’t want to discuss it, you can tell them so, you can leave and find someone else to discuss your issue with.  You can even choose to discuss it if you want, but it’s out in the open, not hidden behind a baited gotcha hook.  Even if you are younger than the person you are talking to, you deserve to be treated with respect.  If it seems like they are making a power grab, maybe you shouldn’t trust them.  I think most people will respect you when you call them on a boundary violation, which is usually what is going on when you get angry.  The hard part is to not let the anger take control and to calmly discuss how they are violating your boundaries.

Suicide

I recently read another blog with several perspectives on suicide, or at least having thoughts in that direction.  Many of the comments had to do with how unhelpful it is when one is terribly depressed and people assume you must have chosen to be this way.  To be charitable, I think some of this is leftover from 30 or 40 years ago, when there were no effective medications for depression.  Honestly, the books I found back in the pre-prozac era took exactly that approach.  Basically it had to do with choosing to think kinder thoughts about oneself.  There is a kernel of truth there, though I suspect it works best for those who have less severe depression.  It was at least sometimes helpful when I would redirect my thoughts in a more positive direction.  Many of us are harder on ourselves than others would be, especially when we are young adults.  I think we learn to cut ourselves a little slack as we get older, hopefully anyway.

As a little background, I first found depression to be a problem around middle school.  I had been bullied in 6th grade, so my self esteem had taken a nose dive.  I felt like a social idiot, maybe everyone did around that age.  At any rate, I once broached the idea to my mom, who had always championed talk therapy after it helped her deal with some issues she had had with her father, that I should maybe talk to a therapist of some sort.  Well, she told me I was just experiencing being a teenager and it would pass.  A couple of years later, my dad’s health started to fail.  So I dealt with depression most of my high school years as best I could, not even realizing until I was an adult, that it really would have been appropriate to talk through that situation.

I think Dad was in the hospital after his final stroke for several months before he died.  At that point I was in Junior College and had a night time and weekend cleaning job.  I was pretty depressed and not sleeping well.  At one point I was at my job and just laid on the floor in exhaustion.  I felt I simply could not go on, and asked the Lord why he didn’t just take me home.  The answer came that He was not finished with me yet.  Somehow that gave me enough motivation to keep putting one foot in front of the other.  I felt so relieved once he finally died, after a 5 year decline.  It kind of made me feel guilty in a way, as if I were happy he had died.  But really it was just that the burden of anticipation and not knowing when it would happen was finally lifted.  I entered a good period for some time after that and enjoyed finishing my schooling.

Then I was out and struggling with the challenge of the twenties, to find meaningful work or at least support myself, and hopefully to find someone to share my life with.  In the process of trying to find my way, I ended up in dead end job in a retail store and the only guy who seemed interested in my company did not share my faith.  I eventually broke up with him which was a relief at first.  But no one else appeared on the scene which was depressing, since most of my friends were married and raising children.  Meanwhile my crazy boss was dipping into the money in order to buy used furniture for the store, without leaving any notes as to how much money he had out.  The home office was clamoring for reports, which I couldn’t send since they were short and he had to sign them.  Usually he came back with change and receipts for gas and purchases after a few days.  But sometimes the home office would demand the reports and when I sent them, the boss blamed me for getting him in trouble.  Talk about a high stress situation, I was really depressed.

One day I must have reached a breaking point.  I came in early in the morning and needed to work on deposits.  But I had a cascade of feelings of worthlessness and visual images of suicidal actions that would not stop.  I couldn’t even work and trying to substitute positive thoughts wasn’t happening.  I cried out to God for help and after a bit it was like a cloud just lifted off of me.  I could work then and think positive thoughts.

Here’s the kicker though.  After a bit, I went downstairs to use the bathroom.  One of the other employees told me a regular customer had come in, dragged the employees together and insisted they had to pray because there was a spirit of suicide in the store!  Apparently, in response to my prayer for help, the Lord sent someone who had the gift of discerning of spirits to minister deliverance on my behalf.  I had never considered that what was going through my head might not be simply my own thoughts.  It would not have occurred to me to deal with it in terms of command, instead of request at that point in my life.

To tell you the truth, the whole experience was amazing to me.  I had a bit of training in spiritual warfare, enough to have some vocabulary to use.  But up to that point, I had no clue to how someone might feel who was being influenced by a demonic entity.  It was a valuable experience in that way, and completely changed my perspective on what is really going on when someone reports suicidal thoughts.  I never had that problem again, so the customer had done a thorough job of casting it out.  Yes, I have been depressed from time to time, but with good self care, it is manageable.

To get back to what I read and reacted to though, someone on the thread had posted that they were accused of having a demon when they reported suicidal thoughts, or perhaps it was just deep depression.  They naturally did not find the accusation to be at all helpful, in fact just said that whoever said that had completely failed at being empathetic.  I agree there, but there may have been demonic activity involved.  Here’s the thing though, when Jesus found someone with a demon, he didn’t accuse them of bringing it on themselves, nor did he ask their permission to deal with it.  He simply removed it from them and sent it away.  And he gave all his disciples the authority to do the same in His name.

I know some people are squeamish about dealing with such things, but in fact, it was considered quite normal in the early years of the church.  You can even order them out of your own life, if necessary.  No, it does not require shouting or the laying on of hands.  In fact, some even do it in silence.  So instead of accusing someone of having a demon, one would do better to say nothing to them and order it out in Jesus’ name and see what happens.  Failing that, most serious problems with depression involve physical problems with brain chemistry that can be addressed by a doctor, and mental issues probably best left to expert counselors.  But everyone can benefit by having someone listen to them in a non-judgemental fashion.  My girlfriend and I got each other through many depressive episodes, simply by listening to one another.  I have been reading Job lately and he said the same thing.  When his friends just sat there and listened to him vent, they were much more help to him than when they decided to solve the problem by pontificating about it.  So, if all else fails, try really listening.

Grace, or how to be offended

A dear relative was visiting and we had some discussion of our relative churches and what is going on there.  Her church has been searching for a new head pastor for some time.  Unlike my denomination, they have to be tried out and voted in by the congregation.  It can be a long drawn out process.  She is tearing her hair out, because as a long time member, she takes pride in being part of her denomination and what they believe.  But those who are running things now, seem determined to camoflage denominational ties.  In fact, in the contemporary service, they seem completely unwilling to even teach the bible at all, for fear that they might offend someone.

I couldn’t help but wonder what the former pastor would think, who was there somewhere around 30 years ago, when I attended for several years.  He really had a passion for the bible, teaching both an in depth class, for which one could get college credit for a bible survey course.  At the same time, he had an ongoing project to teach through the entire bible on the congregational level as well.  The place was quite well attended at that time.  We all felt well fed, and pledged our money to build the current church, spread out in order to accommodate hoped for schools.  The expansion with a health club and senior housing never quite came to fruition, but it seemed wise at the time.  And now, they think they can regrow the church, by avoiding offending anyone?  What kind of christians would they have, who are completely ignorant of the bible?

For that matter, isn’t the gospel offensive?  I mean really, didn’t Jesus offend people right and left, especially those who claimed to have the correct behavior down pat?  The gospel is all about grace and grace is offensive.  I mean, look at every major religion in the world, don’t they teach that there is a right way to live and a wrong way to live, and the right way is how you get to God or Nirvana or whatever the goal is?  Surely we have to work our way into God’s good graces, right?

Then along comes this man, who hangs around with smelly fishermen, and prostitutes and tax collectors (all of whom were considered to be cheats at the time).  This man has the audacity to call the religious folk of the time, the ones who had the rules down pat, all sorts of names, like whitewashed tombs.  He said they laid heavy burdens on people and refused to lift a finger to actually help them.    I’ve encountered a few religious leaders like that in my time.  You know the type, all about the rules and when you think you have a handle on what they want, they go out of their way to make you feel guilty about something you have no control over.  Or they tell you you are prideful, because you think you are doing okay, instead of wallowing in shame.  If you think you have a gift for X, they will tell you that is certainly not your place, go do Y, which you know you stink at.  Or maybe it’s that X was only for back then, not now.

So we have Jesus, and he comes and says stuff about setting people free and he heals everyone who asks, even if their problem involves spiritual oppression.  I’m talking demons here.  He made no excuses, just got rid of them.  He was lifting the burdens people carried right and left.  And his teachings were completely outrageous, you know, always talking about how your righteousness must somehow exceed that of those religious leaders who have it all put together.  No it is all a matter of the heart.  All who heard him must have despaired, because no one could be that good.  Even his disciples called him on it.

What was his answer?  He said “I am the way, the truth, and the light.  No one comes to the Father but through me.”  How offensive is that?  It was offensive enough to those religious leaders.  They were determined to get rid of him.  Elsewhere, we are told that it is offensive to those who are perishing, because they can’t accept that there is no way they can earn their way into heaven, maybe.  So if your congregation finds the bible offensive, are they actually saved?

Grace itself is offensive.  Think about it.  If salvation is a free gift, and there is no way to earn our way into heaven, why anyone could get in.  Prostitutes, gang bangers, those whose minds are drug addled, rapists, murderers, sexual deviants of all sorts.  They could just come to Jesus and say they believe, and he would let them in?  Isn’t heaven supposed to be for holy people?  Shouldn’t they have to prove they have changed, or something, before he lets them in?  Well, surely there is something called the fruit of repentance, evidence that God is transforming an individual, but it is a response, not how one gets on the path to heaven.  Grace is offensive.

Jesus did say something about his being a rock of offense that many people will stumble over.  Then there was something about those who aren’t offended being blessed.  Being blessed is a good thing, but never being allowed to stub ones toe on that rock seems far more offensive to me than having to actually deal with it.  May we be willing to offend someone, if it will set them free!

Reconciliation or parting ways?

Sometimes I wonder why life in a community of faith is so hard.  You’d think, since we are all following Jesus to the best of our abilities, that reconciliation would come more easily.  And yet it seems that instead of listening carefully and trying to help one another along, there is always someone trying to argue that their way of looking at things is best. In fact, if you disagree with this person, they think something is wrong with you.  When this person is in charge, it can be really awful.

About a decade or so ago, we went through a series of pastoral changes.  In the end, we had a senior pastor and two assistants, all of whom were giving long time church members a hard time about their beliefs.  Now there were some who stayed, figuring they could wait this out.  No pastor stays forever, at least not in our denomination.  We are a somewhat conservative leaning church, within a denomination that is mostly liberal.  In this case, from what I heard, these liberal pastors were actually telling our members that they could not believe what they believed, even though they were long time members in good standing.  Many of these people were our teachers and they were “invited” to leave the church!

I found this incredible, not only because I knew many of these folks and had never had a problem with how they taught.  But in my understanding, we are a denomination that welcomes independent thinking.  The audacity of these people, sent to serve us, to then come and try to remake our body into something it never was, was astonishing to me.  No doubt, had I had a run in with them, I would have been left speechless.  But on reflection, which works best for me, I realized that, first of all, they were acting as if it were their church, when the church is the people.  Second of all, it is possible to wait them out, as sooner or later they move on.

As it happens, the worst of the worst were followed by a humble pastor, who had a ministry of reconciliation.  I remember him coming and arranging to meet not just with the movers and shakers on the committees, but in small groups with all who remained, because of course people had left in droves.  He asked questions I don’t recall ever hearing from a new pastor.   I’m sure I don’t recall all of them, but they were like this:  What style of worship service would you prefer?  What makes this church tick?  Who are the important people in this church, not necessarily paid staff, who make things happen here.  Why are they important?  How do they help to make this church what it is?

I remember discussing worship styles for some time.  At one point I said something to the effect that we were told that there had to be a contemporary service.  His calm response was that they are not here, you are.  I want to know what you want.  At the time we requested a blended worship style and that became our style while he was there for his short tenure.  I think he was my model for a shepherd pastor, instead of the usual CEO type.

I recall being so amazed at his very quiet impact that I wished, on some level that I had the ability to bring about reconciliation.  So I bought a book about it and soon found myself over my head.  There was simply too much to take in, and people being human, often their hearts are hardened toward whoever they are against.  Often it is nearly impossible to get them to listen to one another with respect, let alone be willing to actually love one another.

And yet, since God has called me to healing ministry, as I understand it, I think reconciliation is part of it.   So, it seems every time we get someone new on staff, I’m having to put out fires.  I hear complaints and urge people to give the new person a chance.  At God’s prompting, sometimes I remind us all, myself included, that complaining about it is only becoming part of the problem, not the solution.  In one situation I had the ear of the person people were upset about and was able to do something akin to shuttle diplomacy, reminding one to talk to him, and him to be receptive to what they had to say.

But let me tell you, when I am part of the offended group, it’s harder.  Recently there was someone on the music staff that was driving us all crazy.  I was praying that our members wouldn’t start walking, which could force that particular group to disband.  Fortunately, that person left of their own accord, and the replacement is actually fun to be around.  I don’t know why, but sometimes it seems that our homegrown talent is better than those we bring in from outside.  I keep thinking we should have a positive effect on those we bring in, but it isn’t always evident.

Now there is yet another problem person.  I am again connected, so I can’t act as an impartial observer.  I don’t have more than a casual connection to this person, so I can neither give insight to their actions, nor suggest that they may need to be more flexible  and really listen carefully to the concerns.  Again it is someone who was brought in from outside, not someone who emerged from our local community.  I suspect that they have no clue to what makes our church tick, and am concerned because families are again leaving the church.  Oddly enough, it is several years into this person’s time with us.  It would make more sense if the issues came up at first, but perhaps he was on his best behavior at first, and now has let his guard down?

I really don’t know, but I think I should be able to do something to fix things.  But I do not know what to do.  I see this person as having a hardened position too far to the right of our rather accepting church.  All I can do is pray for wisdom, for God to show me something that will make a difference, but so far I’ve gotten nothing.

Joanne

I usually mange to forget all about funerals, or memorial services, which are far more common here.  But this one I needed to attend.  And another friend was in charge and gave me extra reminders.  So I went to the service to remember Joanne, who has made appearances in my life ever since I was a baby.

Joanne was a real character and part of that was she was not a quiet presence in a room.  She was loud and flamboyant.  She started life with two strikes against her, you might say.  I don’t know if they were congenital or due to some birth trauma, but she had a hip problem that caused one leg to be notably shorter than the other, so she had to wear a heavy built up shoe on that foot.  She was also legally blind, the kind of kid who can see something, but even with the strongest coke bottle glasses, she couldn’t see like everyone else.  She also had difficulties with her hearing, at least in later life.  I’m not sure exactly when that one started.  It might explain why she always seemed to talk louder than was necessary.  At any rate, she lived with a good deal of pain, but she never seemed to let it stop her.

On the other hand, she was quite intelligent and did well in school, where her vision did not hinder her too much.  She played the piano and had a wonderful contralto voice.  Most of those who attended her service had sung in choirs with her.  Though her vision was impaired, she would take her music home and decipher it slowly, then commit the whole thing to memory so that she could keep up with the others in choir and sing solos as well.  She composed music, though most did not get transcribed into standard notation.  Even in her last years, she was talking about borrowing an electronic keyboard, to record some new music.

Many decades ago, the schools did not really know how to deal with a vision impaired child with a pronounced limp.  So, as one of the attendees informed us, Joanne was bounced around in school a bit as a young child.  She was actually sent away to a boarding school for a while, but came back because they kept feeding her food she was allergic to.  When she returned, she went to the public schools and just had to cope as well as she was able.  There were no services, and whether she was given extra time on things like tests, to try to decipher the written parts, was completely up to the individual teachers.  Sometimes, she was punished if she brought home bad grades, as if simply being intelligent could make up for slow visual processing.  Needless to say, she was not included in the in-crowd of the time either.

But Joanne was a survivor.  I did not know her well during my younger years, but was told that she enjoyed the occasional church or choir outing.  On those occasions, she was known to tell ghost stories, or pull pranks on others.  Once she showed up in costume and sang an operatic aria.  After her parents were gone, she managed alone in a 3 bedroom house, for many years.  She gathered together a hodgepodge of people willing to run errands, do laundry (once she was no longer able to do that herself), carry our the garbage, and bring in groceries.

Now one person at her service described her as accepting of her lot in life.  I did not see her that way.  Maybe it was because my mother was one of the people she would discuss her faith with.  She believed in God, but sometimes questioned His love for her, especially as her vision deteriorated to the point where she was completely blind, despite all that doctors could do for her.  From things my mother told me, and also things she said during the years when I would do grocery runs for her, I saw her as being something like the biblical Jacob, wrestling with God.  It is certainly nice to think of her finally being free of her physical limitations and in the presence of God.

Joanne was a picky eater, in a very unique way.  Those who shopped for her had to learn which things she liked.  First of all, she ate no poultry at all.  So you had to read labels and make sure there was no turkey or chicken included in her frozen meals.  In addition, unlike many older people, she liked things spicy.  She ordered spicy salad dressing, mexicorn, hot chili, and loved it when I stumbled upon some jalapeno bagels. Other than that, she could hardly survive without her daily dose of citrus fruits.  I have to wonder if she thought all the institutional food in her last couple of years was actually killing her.  When someone bought her the wrong thing, she would pass it on to the next provider she thought could use it.  Usually that was me and there were times I passed things on in turn to one food collection drive or another, at least if it was non-perishable.

Joanne was a real character, and I was honored to know her.

Vernon

Vernon left us much too young.  I met a lot of people in my junior college choir.  Many of them were dedicated christians.  It was kind of a shock to me when I got to the university and found singers who were only rarely people of faith.  There, most of the singers were handpicked for the school, though anyone could try out for the concert choir.  I suspect there was often a bit of ego involved.  But in junior college, most of us were singing for the glory of God and our own love of music.

Now Vernon was a big black guy, with the world’s most disarming smile.  I truly believe he hadn’t an enemy in the world, because he could charm them right into being his friend.    Everyone liked Vernon.  Besides being in choir, he also led the cheerleading squad, though I didn’t attend the games, so I never saw him in action.  I was told he was high energy, and constantly in motion.  Outside of school, he had his own band, where he played piano and sang.  They did gospel performances all over town.  Mostly they performed in churches, but I spotted a picture of him at the fair a couple of years ago, from back in the 70s.

I wouldn’t say that I was one of his close friends particularly.  But I did work downtown during my 20′s.  At that time, Vernon was playing gigs at the Padre hotel, and I  ran into him a few times.  The first time I just threw my arms around him and gave him a big hug.  He was the kind of guy that made you feel like that.  I didn’t think that playing in a bar was really the right kind of job for him, but he was also directing a choir wherever he went to church, so it didn’t concern me too much.  We were twenty-somethings, working lousy jobs, trying to make ends meet and hoping to find our ways to something better, more suited to us.

After a while, he disappeared, or perhaps I stopped seeing him because my job moved me away from downtown.  I’m not sure, but when I ran across him next, he was living in North Carolina.  He was called Elder, and ran the music program where he went to church.  And he had written a song that was picked for a special performance in Washington D.C.  I thought, wow!  I really know a celebrity, or at least I knew him way back when.  I sent a congratulatory e-mail, which didn’t rate a reply.

And now, just 4 years later, he’s gone.  The world has lost a talented musician.  It has also lost someone who spread love wherever he went.  He was one who truly demonstrated the love that Christians were once known for showing to the world.  He will surely be missed!

A Different Kind of Lenten Fasting

We are about a week from the start of Lent this year.  Now, traditionally we would all be thinking and discussing what we should give up for Lent.  I’m not from a faith tradition that actually gives up food every friday, though that is one option.  Most of the time we pick something, like chocolate, or tv, or even facebook to forego during Lent.  It’s meant to help us focus on Jesus, as we are reminded of His sacrifice every time we make our own small sacrifice.  But this year our church is having small bible study groups for Lent, so we should be giving up a given amount of time each week, and hopefully spending more time in the Bible.

Now we have had classes before, and this is a little different.  But the topics themselves are pretty basic, at least for someone like me who has done a lot of bible reading, and in depth study for decades.  I’m also already part of two or three small groups at church, so I see this as yet another thing aimed more at those who aren’t part of the 10 percent of those who go to classes, lead worship, contribute food for potlucks, etc.  I will be part of a group, mainly because one is being held on our side of town that will fit into our schedule.  But I started thinking, maybe I should have some sort of fast anyway.

So, I was trying to decide whether to skip a meal or two on fridays, or to give up chocolate, which is actually quite difficult for me.  A verse, more of a fragment, popped into my head and forced me to dig through the concordance of my study bible until I found it.  It’s quite famous actually, from Isaiah 58.  The snatch I remembered started with loosening the bonds of the oppressed.  Of course, in context, there is a lot more, including a condemnation of those who exploit their workers, are quarrelsome or violent, then expect God to hear them simply because they are fasting.

Okay, I’m not sure what to do with that part.  I don’t have a business, so I don’t see how any of it applies.  If you do, you might want to look at how you treat your employees.  Perhaps a fast from saying whatever pops into your head might be appropriate.  But I was led to the next part, the part that was famous for being motivation for the civil rights movement, and for activist priests in South American dictatorships.  Somehow though, I don’t think I’m being called to start some movement against injustice.

How about untying the cords of a yoke, setting the oppressed free and breaking said yoke?  I know the picture here is of a draft animal, and unhitching them from the plow or whatever.  But setting the oppressed free obviously refers to people.  I’m not at all sure I know who the oppressed are here.  I know the verses typically have been used to justify setting large groups of people free from oppressive regimes.  There is no shortage of oppressive regimes around the world, but I don’t think God is calling me to go to North Korea or the Middle East for the Lenten season.  Either place could be something to pray over.

Perhaps though, that is the macro interpretation of the verses.  I’m looking for the micro interpretation.  What on earth can I do to set the oppressed free during this Lenten season?  I do have a bit of experience with being freed from oppression myself, in a spiritual sense.  Might this mean, I need to be prepared, should the Lord bring someone along who actually needs deliverance?  It’s possible, though pretty rare in my experience.  Somehow, I suspect God has something else in mind.

I think for now, I will just keep looking at those verses.  I will try to keep my spiritual ears open for whatever the Lord brings my way.  I do think that there are areas in all our lives, where we are bound up, whether by habit, by addictions, by memories that we thought were long dead and buried.  It’s not an exhaustive list, but you get the idea. I think Lent would be a wonderful time to get free from something that may be tangling up our feet and making life more difficult.