It is appropriate for you who began
last year not only to do something but even to desire to do something—now
finish doing it, so that your eagerness may be matched by completing it
according to your means. (2 Corinthians 8.10-11)
Worlds Away
My city, Chicago, is a very sad place. It’s been sad for
quite some time, but it’s grown even sadder of late. We’re in the grip of a gun violence rampage that makes the Capone years look like a holiday. Years
of ignoring the deprivation in “less desirable” neighborhoods have
exploded on our streets. On weekends, the city averages 60 shootings, with many
victims being minors caught in the crossfire. Last Wednesday, seven-year-old
Heaven Sutton was gunned down while helping her mother sell sno-cones in front
of her house. Gang members spotted a rival in line and fired into the crowd.
Heaven had just returned from getting a new hairstyle for a long awaited
trip to Disney World. Friday night’s news ran footage of our mayor, Rahm
Emanuel, consoling Heaven’s mother, after attending the funeral of a
14-year-old who’d been killed the previous weekend. Since 2008, over 650
young people have been murdered in our city. When you add the adults,
survivors, and victims in outlying areas infested by gangs and drug lords, the
number reaches several thousands.
This is not news to Chicagoans, which places blame on all of
us for not rising up against this scourge sooner. To our shame, we’ve done
little to correct the social dysfunction that gave rise to the Capone era and
racial discord of 1960s. Chicago has always been less a city than a collective
of ethnic enclaves. For many who live in predominately white neighborhoods,
African-American and Hispanic areas might as well be worlds away. The wailing
mothers on the nightly news might as well be Sunni moms shrouded in burkas.
Bombed-out streets five miles away might as well be Afghanistan or Syria. The
barrage of heartbreaking images is finally starting to move those who’ve
ignored their neighbors. Yet if we’re going to end this grotesque crisis, we
have to overcome our aptitude for pity. It’s not enough to feel sorry for
Chicago’s gun violence victims. It’s not enough to wring one’s hands and wonder
what can be done. The time for pointing fingers and assigning blame is long gone.
Thankfully, churches across the metropolitan area are
starting to mobilize. For the most part, they’re liturgical congregations,
which means this weekend’s readings will be heard in their services. And I pray
that the Holy Spirit will leap out of the texts to grip their hearts with
renewed vigor and determination. Because this weekend’s message to us is very
clear: it’s not enough to want to do something. A big start isn’t enough,
either. Good intentions mean nothing if they’re not realized. All that we think
or say, believe or do comes to naught if we don’t finish the job. That’s the
moral in Sunday’s texts.
A Question of Fair Balance
The Old Testament reading (2 Samuel 1,17-27) puts before us a poignant scene. David’s lifelong nemesis, Saul, has committed suicide on
learning the Philistines have killed all of his sons, including David’s dearest
friend, Jonathan. The removal of Saul’s heirs clears David’s ascendance to
Israel’s throne. What should be a triumphant moment is wreathed in sorrow. David
leads the nation in a mourning hymn built on a recurrent theme: “How the mighty
have fallen!” Although David won victory for Israel, its king, sons, people,
and land have been laid waste. There is much to do to restore the
violence-tattered nation. The devastation caused by Saul, a maniacal monarch
and father, burdens the new king. The weight of the work ahead is genuinely
felt in the poetry as David surveys all that must be done to finish the job.
In the Gospel (Mark 5.21-43), we meet another father who
could be Saul’s polar opposite. Jairus is a synagogue leader whose 12-year-old
daughter is sick unto death. In a bold move, he throws himself at Jesus’s feet
and begs Him to come heal his little girl. Jesus agrees and a clamoring crowd
follows. Along the way, a woman who’s been housebound with menstrual
hemorrhaging for 12 years—as long as Jairus’s daughter has been alive—pushes
through the throng, confident if she can touch Jesus’s cloak she’ll be cured.
When she reaches Him, He stops. “Who touched Me?” He asks. The woman
reluctantly confesses and Jesus declares, “Daughter, your faith has made you
well.” Without going into specifics, this healing surpasses a physical miracle;
it remediates centuries of social and religious stigmatization of women. Given
its groundbreaking significance, one might expect Jesus to call it a day. But
His work isn’t finished. Though news arrives that Jairus’s daughter has died,
Jesus committed to see about her. “Do
not fear,” He tells the father. “Only believe.” He proceeds to Jairus’s house,
touches the little girl’s corpse (another breach in Judaic code), and speaks
life into her. He finishes the job.
Finally, in the New Testament text (2 Corinthians 8.7-15),
Paul expands on this principle in a most illuminating fashion. He tells the
Corinthians, “I am testing the genuineness of your love against the earnestness
of others.” (v8) It’s a subtle, yet unmistakable, distinction. Earnest people empathize with others’ woes. Genuinely
loving people do something to end
them. He points to Jesus. “Though He was rich,” Paul writes, “yet for your
sakes He became poor so that by His poverty you might become rich.” Paul tells
the Corinthians—by far the most privileged readers of any epistle—never to
forget they too are recipients of genuine love. Then Paul says, “It is
appropriate for you who began last year not only to do something but even to
desire to do something—now finish doing it, so that your eagerness may be
matched by completing it according to your means.” (v10-11) Ever the wily
pastor, Paul backs his challenge with wisdom that cancels all excuses for not
finishing the job. “The gift is acceptable according to what one has—not
according to what one does not have,” he says. “It is a question of fair
balance between your present abundance and their need, so that their abundance
may be for your need, in order that there may be a fair balance.” (v13-14)
A World Out of Balance
Chicago’s sorrow is but one instance of rampant grief
currently visited on a world out of balance. A pernicious spirit of “Me, My,
and Mine” has overtaken us, warped our minds, and laid us to waste. We are at
war with nations, cultures, neighbors, fellow believers, and ourselves.
Violence is our lingua franca,
whether articulated with a trigger or sprayed across pulpits, felling innocent
souls with heresies of hatred and inequality. Though perched on seats of power,
the mighty—be they elected officials, corporate princes, media moguls, bigoted
pastors, or drug kingpins—are fallen and our streets are strewn with corpses of
every kind. Christ has deeded us the gift of life, life that exceeds the
paralysis of earnest intentions, new life
that activates in us the gospel of genuine love, true life that not only compels us to do something, but also
inspires us to follow Christ’s example and commit to finishing the job.
“We can’t fix the world’s problems” is no excuse. It’s not about what we lack, but what we have—voices, hands, feet,
and hearts overflowing with conviction and urgency that drive us out of our
comfort zones to defeat the spirit of violence and hatred holding us hostage.
Our presence is sorely needed in a
berserk world beholden to evil powers. Earnest empathy won’t do it. Pitying
victims won’t correct the imbalance that deprives us of the abundance buried in
communities under fire. The instant we say, “Something must be done to end this
madness,” is the moment we confess there’s something we can do. In Ecclesiastes 9.10, we read, “Whatever your hand finds
to do, do with your might; for there is no work or thought or knowledge or
wisdom in Sheol [the Land of the Dead], to which you are going.” Each of us
regularly confronts injustice, abuse, and aborning tragedies we can combat—in a
word, a gesture, or a sacrificial act of defiance. Find those opportunities.
Commit to them for as long as you live.
And don’t stop until you’ve done everything in your might to finish the job.
(L-R) Heaven Sutton, 7,
felled by gang warfare in Chicago on June 27, 2012; Brandon Elizares, 16, gay
El Paso teen felled by suicide on June 2, 2012; Ahmed,
age unknown, mourning his father felled by a Syrian Army sniper on March 18,
2012.
Podcast link: http://straightfriendly.podbean.com/2012/06/30/finish-the-job/
Podcast link: http://straightfriendly.podbean.com/2012/06/30/finish-the-job/
2 comments:
What a powerful statement! You perfectly exemplify the message that Paul was attempting to get across. You have stated it so exquisitely that there can be no doubt that we are called to rectify these wrongs we see in our world. We are called to do it in love. Rather we do it, more often than not with words of criticism and venom. We are all guilty which is a lovely way to mask my own guilt. Yet, we try to overcome our fears and self-centeredness to alleviate some of the pain we see about us. Continue to speak truth Tim as you always do. Blessings.
Sherry
Sherry, your comment brought to mind a comment a former pastor of mine once made: Jesus was a leader, not a driver. When approach making positive change happen by negative criticism and coercion, we're trying to drive change, which never works. It may change behaviors, but it never changes hearts.
Overcoming our fears and self-centeredness--yes, that's what we must do. That involves risks, just like those Jesus takes, stopping to confess we've been touched by those deemed "unclean" and boldly extending our hands to touch those that others presume dead. This discipleship thing can be a messy business indeed. But it always brings us to pure love and joy.
Thank you for these thoughts. They enrich the post mightily!
Many blessings,
Tim
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