Remix

As we pass the one-year anniversary of the tragic events of Hurricane Katrina, it seemed appropriate this morning to mark this day and remember the year that has passed.

To that end, I wanted to again share a SOTHBLOG entry originally posted on September 7, 2005.

Blessed

In the days since Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans and the Gulf Coast, we’ve all had plenty of difficult images to absorb. The stories have been so plentiful, so full of tragedy and heartbreak that at times I feel as though I’ve reached the limit of what I can take in. If I’m being honest, and knowing how truly calloused this sounds, I must admit that I need a hurricane break. Just for a day, even just for a couple of hours, I’d love to have something else to think about.

And then this morning I had to go and encounter the words of Christ in scripture. This morning’s text on sacred space was from Luke 6:20-23. Jesus tells us that the poor, the hungry, the weeping --- these are the people most blessed by God.

Now, while that may sound great in theory, out there in a “sermon on the mount” or “plain” depending which Gospel you’re reading, we’ve now seen what poverty and desperation look like in real life, up close and personal. We all know that in any society, it’s the poor who are at the most risk. Our instincts are to work and scratch and save, so that we can insure that we and our families are protected from that risk.

Blessed are the poor, Jesus says, but they’re also the ones who wind up at the Superdome and the New Orleans Convention Center, waiting for buses that just don’t come. They’re the ones that watch their infants and elderly die of dehydration, the ones who become victims of violence and anger, the ones who perpetrate that violence on others.

Of all the words that come to mind for describing the pictures of those suffering Americans, “blessed” just really isn’t one of them. And yet, Jesus looked at his disciples and said, in effect, “those poor people, hungry and weeping, those who are hated and excluded and defamed, those are my people. The Kingdom is theirs, and they are blessed” (my paraphrase).

In my world, that just doesn’t make good sense. The last time I checked, 2 + 2 still equals 4, but what if…what if Jesus’ concept of mathematics is just a little different than mine? What if it’s altogether different?

Yesterday I had the privilege of driving a recently relocated citizen of Hattiesburg, Mississippi to Lifepoint Ministries, here in Douglasville. “Kevin” (real name withheld) wanted to attend the job fair being held there for hurricane victims who are now living in our county, but he had no means of transportation. As Katrina bore down upon him, he caught a ride with some neighbors who were heading to Atlanta. They dropped him in our town, where he is now staying with some old friends.

By any American standard, Kevin is poor. The Hattiesburg apartment he managed to rent on his minimum wage salary was mostly destroyed by the high winds and rain. He doesn’t know what remains of his personal possessions. He left his car behind because he didn’t know if his tires were adequate to make the trip. He wants to go back and get it, but doesn’t know how he would get back, or whether his car even made it through the storm undamaged. He now has no job in Hattiesburg, because the gas station where he worked as a cashier has been destroyed. He plans to stay in Douglasville long-term, and he’s starting with little more than the clothes on his back.

Do you know what he told me? “All my family got out. Thank God, I got out and I still have my life. You know, I am really (you guessed it)…blessed.” That word rang in my head this morning as I heard Jesus use it to describe people in a similar situation two millennia ago.

Blessed. Am I blessed because my closet is full, because my house is intact, because there is food in my refrigerator, or because the tires on my vehicles still have a little tread on them? Or does real blessing run a little deeper than our “stuff?”

Don’t get me wrong, I am thankful for all that I have, but sometimes even the way we express that sentiment of thanksgiving comes to sound as though we value those things more than our relationship with the one who gives them.

A few years ago I encountered a doctor in Augusta who was leaving his very successful and lucrative practice to return to a career of full-time medical missionary service in Africa. He said, “you know, when I’m here, it’s so much harder to see God.” I pressed him further to understand exactly what he meant. “Here,” he said, “I don’t see God so easily, because I see the grocery store, and the highway system, the bank, and my house my office and my church building. I see the “things” of life and become dependent on them for my security, rather than dependent upon God.” And then he said this, "when I'm in the mission field, I'm clear that it's God who keeps me alive."

That moment has stayed with me. Maybe 2 + 2 for Jesus really does equal something unexpected. If there is no other way for us to see through the false reality of our world and stay focused on real relationship with God, then let us become poor and hungry. Let's weep, and be hated. Let's become defamed and excluded because of Jesus. All of it is worth the blessing of real relationship with him.

Remember, Jesus made big points, in big ways. “If your eye causes you to sin,” he said, “pluck it out.” Be clear, I neither advocate the plucking of eyes, nor the practice of self-inflicted poverty. But I do advocate, and struggle daily to practice, the honest and frequent self-inspection of the soul that we all need so badly.

The events of recent days invite us to respond. In the coming weeks, months and years, we will have many opportunities to stand among the poor, which means standing among the very ones that Jesus called “blessed.” Our current partnership with Lifepoint and the other churches of our community reveal a tiny window on that “Kingdom” Jesus described.

That kingdom-picture may not look much like you thought it would. It may be scattered and disorganized, chaotic and at times disheartening. There will be no diaper-clad angels plinking harps or inspiring shafts of light cascading down from heaven. When crowded with volunteers and those who have come for help, there is a real physical and mental discomfort in that place. Rarely in our world do we see the veil of our seeming independence so brutally torn away. Frustration and confusion often result from the overwhelming nature of the task at hand.
But if we can manage to look and enter, we might just catch a glimpse of what is there, underneath it all.

There is faith. Perspective. Relationship. Dependence on God and each other. Community.

A word to those who weep today --- Jesus promises a future full of laughter. For those who laugh, let us weep a while until the laughter returns for everyone. These are God’s promises, and may God’s blessings be upon us all.

POSTSCRIPT: August 30, 2006

I really do believe that the events of 9/11, the years of war that have ensued, and our collective witness to the desperation and destruction of Hurricane Katrina have presented American Christians with a particular and perhaps unusual theological task. We are also presented with an equally unusual opportunity.

Perhaps not since the revelation of the Holocaust and the terrible suffering of World War II have Americans more openly voiced questions about the presence and meaning of God in the face of clear and undeniable evil.

Anytime people are talking about God, it’s a good thing. Even when the question being asked is, “where is God and how could he let something like this happen,” we should know that there is at least the chance to enter into a conversation, to live out a truth and to bear witness to Christ.

When someone comes and asks me “WHY,” I will very honestly, and sincerely tell them the truth…

“I don’t know.”

My advice is that you take that same opportunity when it presents itself.

Please resist the temptation to roll in the mud of easy platitudes that only make you feel better while doing nothing for the person who asked the question. Don’t be afraid of silence. Don’t run from “I don’t know.”

But, don’t let the conversation end there, either.

Being a Christian, for me, means admitting what I don’t know. But it also means bearing witness to what I believe I do know.

I know that our world is broken. It is full of hurricanes, earthquakes, tsunamis and tornadoes. In this world, there are people who will do the unthinkable. There is brokenness, there is evil. It’s real.

But that’s not the whole story, not for a second.

Let’s shift the conversation.

Intriguing though it is, the path of “why” is a dead-end theological street.

The question of “what now?” is not.

When the brokenness breaks in on us, we are not alone. Christianity’s unique message is one of God…himself broken. The cross is nothing less than God’s unflinching step into pain, hurt, and sin on our behalf.

Christianity is not escape into nirvana. It is not release from this world through the acquisition of secret, magical knowledge. It is not a stiff-upper-lip, locker room pep talk at halftime.

Christianity is redemption…and transformation. It is relationship.

God’s love doesn’t fail. It doesn’t change. It is real, active, and present in this broken world. The scripture so often misappropriated, is yet so powerful. “We know that all things work together for goodGod makes all things work together for good, or in all things God works for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28).

Too often, I have heard well-meaning Christians imply that God causes hurricanes so that good things can happen. That is absolutely wrong.

Paul’s great words are an incredible statement of faith, when rightly understood. He means that God is present, even in the evil aftermath of a hurricane. God is at work, immediately, in ways that defy our comprehension. Through his people, God unfolds good, through all things, in ways that redeem and transform evil’s best attempts at desolation.

“Kevin” understood. Poor, broken, hurting…and blessed.

I don’t know where Kevin is, these twelve months later. In fact, I never saw him again after that day. By faith, I believe that God has worked good things in his life. God’s people offered a prayer, an opportunity, a job fair, a new start.

All things work together…

Grace and Peace,
Adam

A link to a story detailing the United Methodist response to Katrina, one year later. Note: United Methodists, including those who worship at Shepherd of the Hills, have given $66 Million to relief efforts through our United Methodist Committee on Relief. Thank You.

LIFE AT SOTH:

Labor Day Weekend Worship: One service only, this Sunday, at 10:00 a.m. We’ll be doing another wonderful community brunch, so feel free to bring along a homemade dish to share. Tim Potate will be doing the preaching this week! He is exploring a call to ministry and will preach at SOTH while Adam, Holly and family travel to Knoxville, TN.

Small Group Ministry – Fall Community Groups: Ready to get to know your fellow-SOTHer’s even better? Join a small group this fall! On September 10th and 17th, you’ll have the chance to sign-up for the small group of your choice. Hosts, times and teacher information will be available those Sundays, as will copies of our book for this fall, John Ortberg’s If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Got to Get Out of the Boat.

Sunday Night Worship – SOTH will begin Sunday night worship on September 10 at 6:00 pm. We really believe that we can do an even better of serving our community and deepening our faith by providing this ministry opportunity. Plan to come on out and see what it’s all about!

New Members: Welcome to a great couple, Josh and Jennifer Taylor, who joined SOTH this past Sunday at our 10:00 worship service. Josh is an engineer for GDOT and Jennifer teaches first grade. We are happy to welcome them to the SOTH family!