A Son's Anger

 

Anger.  For me this has always seemed a negative emotion, primarily because of the negative actions I've engaged in while feeling it.  I come from genetic stock blessed with the "short fuse".  I am told both of my grandfathers had fierce tempers though I never truly witnessed this.  I can name a few relatives who exhibit this trait and I seem to have been blessed with the challenge to "Simma-dahn-na" from time to time when things aren't going my way as well.  Given this predisposition, anger always seemed a force to combat and not necessarily an ally.

I am just learning in my life that anger is actually a healthy emotion.  It's what you do with it that determines whether it is harmful or not.  Anger can be a protective response for self and others.  Come against my family to harm them and anger will arise.  In recent years, I've even developed somewhat of a protective anger response towards injustices and actions against the helpless or hopeless.  I now feel I am also beginning to understand the seemingly paradoxical Biblical axiom "in your anger, do not sin".  That one has challenged me for years where we read of a God who can be angered but is also sinless.

 

And what of his son?  Ever picture an angry Jesus?  Have you ever pictured Jesus snapping while he tread this earth?  Certainly he came to minister but have you ever imagined him getting impatient or fed up with all of the complaining, the constant non-stop demands for his time, the "me-me-me" mentality of those who always seemed to be crowding him?  He was fully human after all.  And what about the dozen guys who were his elite?  After a couple of years wouldn't these guys have stopped bickering over "who's going to be greatest in the kingdom"?  Wouldn't they start to get a clue? 

 

And what about the unabashedly sinful and rebellious nature of the people everywhere he went?  Talk about a polluted merging of cultures.  Polytheistic Romans, dirty Samaritans, sexually liberated Greeks, heathens from every known nation trekking across his path, chasing him down.  Even among the chosen children of God, many didn't even try to hide the fact that they weren't really interested in doing much more than following some rote commands prescribed hundreds of years before.  But offer a show, a healing or some miracles, and they came in droves to witness the sensational.  This would have irritated many to the point that they might not have felt so generous to impart words of eternal life without some serious repentance at the forefront.

 

Have you ever noticed Jesus' ire was never raised towards the blatantly sinful or the obvious wrong-doer?

He was never harsh with those who were lost?  He wasn't even put off by their "in-your-face" lack of pedigree, manners, appreciation, or shamelessness.

In fact, one of the most powerful descriptions of him is simply this:

"The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth."
John 1:14 NIV

"...full of grace and truth."

If you could have one phrase on your tombstone, "full of grace and truth" would be pretty high praise.  The fact that of Jesus' many attributes "grace" and "truth" are so prominent is fascinating to me.  He could have appeared as "holy avenger, bearer of judgement and hellfire, come to set all things right".  There will certainly be a day where judgement does occur, but this isn't what he led in with.  Neither did he ignore the mired nature of the world in which he walked.  Grace and Truth fully defined him but truth is not truth if diluted, compromised, or falsified.  Our state did not change who he was, but neither did it repel him from us or keep us from approaching him based on his grace.

But Jesus was intolerant.  In reading the Gospels, some of the people I read he was most intolerant of were those who were most religiously intolerant of others - those who were from "proper" backgrounds and upbringing; those who were most strict in their observances of what was right and were put out that this self-proclaimed 'Son of God' would mix with and spend time with those who had made a mess of their lives through rebellion, bad choices, or being in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

When I see Jesus coming to blows, it wasn't towards a tax collecting thief, or a loose living woman.  It was against those who turned a sanctuary into a profit den, preying on those bowed under the weight of pious men's interpretations of God's commands.  When I see Jesus bristle, it isn't against a man who's wrestling to figure out how to hold onto his wealth and still enter the kingdom, it's against those who are seeking to hold onto their position and have no interest in the kingdom except for how to lord it over others and maintain their societal status.  I see a Savior weeping while overlooking a holy city, not because the temple wasn't grand enough or the priests weren't precise enough in their following of the Mosaic law, but rather because in the following of the law the people had stopped following the One who gave the law.  The masses milling through the dusty streets were broken, lost, and destitute of hope. 

Times haven't changed much between when Jesus walked the earth and today.  Our temples are certainly more numerous.  Our pedigree, our level of education, our affluence might be a bit higher.  But we all can probably picture the intolerant individual in our lives or our past who has done more to drive people from God then towards him with their judgements, rules, or regulations.  "Pharisee" we would call them, or "hypocrite".  The truth is we have probably all been those people at one point or another. 

Yet I repeatedly see the call in scripture to walk as our Savior walked, to love as our Savior loved, to serve as our Savior served.  I don't see his finger pointing at others in the gospels and saying "you better straighten up and change - you better get this right!".  I see him pointing to others and saying "these are my sheep - love them".  I don't see him demanding an apology before we can approach, I see him accepting us and telling us to accept each other (Romans 15:7).  I don't see him walking away from those who are difficult or unloving, I see him commanding us to walk in the ways of his love (Ephesians 5:2).  I don't see him exercising rightfully entitled position, I see him modeling the foundations of kingdom principles where to serve is the highest nobility (Philippians 2:5-8).  Certainly a call to accept him, to let him revolutionize lives is present - but so is the truth that there is nothing we can do can earn this free gift of salvation.  Nothing good about ourselves or our acts of piety or personal holiness have purchased our relationship with him - it's based solely on his grace, his sacrifice, his love.

Only towards those who would inhibit the broken, the abused, the cast down and the hurting from approaching the open arms of a Savior filled with grace and truth do I ever see a smolder in Jesus' eyes.  We should all take care never to forget we are all saved by grace and a costly love; that we are never in position of anything short of inexhaustible gratitude.  Those who do forget, those who harm "the least of these" in the name of righteous and moral fervor risk a Son's anger.

The King Who Bowed Low

To Bow.  Have you ever performed this act to another?  What does this mean to you?  For some it might conjure images of cultural greetings.  For others, pictures of heads of state as they extend handshakes and nod.  For others, a polite curtsy.  Ponder the significance of this peculiar act of deference.

The literal definition has many applications that we are all familiar with though we often do not associate many of them with modern necessity.  I cannot actually recall the last time, if ever, that I bowed to another human being other than to take a knee to my bride when I proposed to her.  For most of us, the physical act of bowing to a person rings of defeat and serfdom and this does not sit well.  Ponder the definition.

To bow is to show reverence, recognition, and acknowledgement.  To bow is to yield, or submit.  More in line with conflict, to bow is to be forced into a position of subjugation or even to be crushed.  We prefer the polite niceties of the first while obviously desiring to avoid the ramifications of the latter.  In fact, the whole of bowing should be left to social graces devoid of any depth of personal investment or cost to self.  Yet each of us could probably imagine a historical figure or two who was forced onto their knees by a conquering power to acknowledge supremacy.  This loss of control is probably what is most intimidating about the word, for to truly bow to another is to yield oneself to the temperament, preferences, and power of that individual.

In the case of many around us, we would often refuse this kind of submission unless deep trust had been established.  No one wants to fall backwards unless they know a network of interwoven arms is there to catch them.  But what of the powerful, the mighty, those imbued with seemingly everything necessary to charge forth and rule their world.  Do we ever picture the need for them to bow to others?  Do we ever see them brought low in subservience as a necessity for their position, their influence?  Historically I do not. 

Historically, I envision this to be the antithesis of the powerful.  Gazing upon those listed as great and mighty amongst the "conquerors" and "shapers" of history I see very few, if any, notes of those who created empires, shaped continents, and altered their times by yielding to the passions of others except in the name of self interest or personal appetites.  "Self serving" more characteristically defines the interests of these individuals.  Whether it be to etch a name for self or for nation in eternity, most who expanded empires, grew nations, conquered countries and dominated economies did so on their feet and rarely if ever bowed the knee. 

Everyone of them, though, shared this commonality; they each ultimately bowed to the pull of death's indomitable tug upon this flesh.  Ashes to ashes and dust to dust, each bowed as they stepped into eternity as we all must.  Many were acutely aware of this inevitability and strove to outlast their own lives in stone and deeds remembered.  Many disillusioned believed they were beyond the power of the grave and through mysticism and myth sought to outlive their peers through accomplishment.  All were brought low with finality; the works of their hands undone in the cessation of a heartbeat. 

Picture, however, a king not subject to this mandate.  Eternal, possessing of all true power.  This king was present when the stars were commanded to burst forth from the void, he witnessed the oceans roar forth from the deep places.  Lightning adorned his throne and creatures innumerable and indescribable existed simply to continually utter reverence and praise to his name.  Immortal, death could not touch this king, could not approach his presence.  This king truly need yield to no one for there was none more powerful, more deserving of absolute reverence and awe than he in all of the most divine or the most abominable planes in existence. 

This king, though, did something unthinkable and uncharacteristic of one imbued of royalty...he knelt.  He knelt in the filthy soil of a spoiled creation.  He knelt in the squalor those who rejected him.  With compassion, this king knelt and touched a blind man.  He reached for a cripple.  This king knelt and grasped a woman caught in adultery.  He embraced an embezzling tax cheat and clasped a leper.  This king cradled a dead girl and endured the scorn of mockers as he named her "sleeping". 

There were those who faintly grasped with whom they walked while this king tread our plane.  Their tainted knowledge led them to believe this king would rise up in might, overthrow usurping armies and establish an immediate eternal power.  They were perplexed when this king stripped himself near naked and proceeded to perform the lowliest of duties - the washing of their dusty, road-weary feet.

For this was the model of greatness in this king's eyes - the true wisdom of power that the mighty and powerful of this sphere have squandered centuries railing against in futility.  This king's kingdom is not built with the mighty, but with the broken.  It is not built by the powerful, but with the vulnerable.  This king's kingdom is not built by the wise of the earth, but by the helpless. 

We would argue these truths as ineffective and foolish for what progress can ever be made in any undertaking with such deficiencies.  Our misunderstanding stems from our own misguided understanding of our own importance in the tapestry of God's unfolding history where each of us is but a small thread.  The phrase "God plus me = everything" is true just as the phrase "infinity + zero= infinity" where we realize we are the sum zero in this equation and only through the grace of a loving and all powerful father have we been invited to participate in the most grand of redemptive stories in existence. 

But this was only possible as the king who knelt in our soil, walked in our flesh, and touched our diseases ultimately yielded himself, of his own accord, to bow low under the crushing weight of wooden beams; to be nailed to those same beams and to be elevated on a cross as a substitution for my filth and wrong doing so that I could approach a pure and holy God without blemish once and for all time.  He did this for me as he did this for all.  This is the king who bowed low and his call is for us to follow his example.

 

The Burning Lens

Often in these writings, I am reminded that I am fall-able, tainted, and stumbling.  I've often stated that the intent and purpose for these writings are less a sharing of my soul with others than a documented trail of directional markers for self as I pursue the One who draws my next breath and blesses the daily efforts of my hands.  From time to time I witness a bringing forth of that which I deem ugly and undesirable.  In this I witness a purging of the dross, so that of value can be purified by the Refiner and an instrument of worth can be brought forth.

I witnessed a picture the other day and it stirred my heart to anger.  It was not of some terrible occurrence.  It was not of an abuse against innocents.  It was not even of a neglect or harm towards "the least of these".  In fact, it was not an injustice at all by normally defined parameters.  It was a photo another had posted of themselves enjoying the camaraderie and friendship of their church family.  It was a photo of christian people doing what christian people are supposed to do - fellowshipping.

Why would such a thing trouble my heart to dark emotion?  What could possibly be wrong in this scenario that would kindle that sinking burning fire deep in my chest?  The answer - for me this picture represented betrayal, hurt, and indignant arrogance.  Petty?  Certainly.  Justified?  Never.  Explanation?  Every story has one.

The individual in the photos was someone my bride and I had stood along side on several occasions when the enemy of our souls was doing his best to destroy them, both from outside and inside of the church.  When temptation was upon them to fall away we encouraged.  When condemning judgement was heavy upon them from within the body, we endeavored to show love.  Years later, when friends and family began to turn away and during the loneliest and most isolating period of our lives where the enemy beset us continually on every side for trying to do the will of the Father in orphan care and adoption - this individual was one of many who turned from us. 

In witnessing the photos I was looking at, I was not seeing "christian fellowship".  I had narrowed the lens and was scrutinizing betrayal.  I was focused in on arrogant piety as church events and involvements were advertised for all to take note.  I was fixated on righteous entitlement for the manner in which they flaunted the circles in which they now ran, the after-church-lunch-crowds they now socialized with.   Identity was advertised in affiliation and activities.  This lens brought upon me a deepening anger for I knew this one when they were destitute and even shunned by the church in judgement and I witnessed them rise up to become one central to the defamation of my household among family and friends.  It was apparent in the numerous photos that life was good and that they had found their niche.

I continued to sharpen the lens and saw an image fill it's circumference.  What I saw was truly revolting.  It was filled with an arrogant forgetfulness of where one once came from and where one once stood.  A smug vanity and boastfulness was evident upon the face.  Humility was lost for influence and achievement.  A sadness crept in and I had to divert as my heart grew overwhelmed; for the image was no longer of another - it was of myself.

I had stumbled upon a very simple universal constant;  The lens through which we gaze to scrutinize another will often magnify the ugliness of the darkness within. 

I was guilty in greater and lesser measure of nearly every one of the sins for which I was judging.  My indictments upon this person were no more just than their judgement upon me or mine upon you because this individual has never walked my path, I have not walked theirs, and neither of us can be responsible for what God is doing in each of our lives.  Hence the very plain and unmistakable command

Judge not, neither pronouncing judgment nor subjecting to censure, and you will not be judged; do not condemn and pronounce guilty, and you will not be condemned and pronounced guilty; acquit and forgive and release (give up resentment, let it drop), and you will be acquitted and forgiven and released.
Luke 6:37 AMP

My "right to wrath" was, at best, sin on my part and never justifiable as God has faithfully accompanied me through the worst storms of my life in recent years, protected and provided for my family, and performed according to His Word just as He always does.  He has restored multiple times over what was taken and lost and deepened our understanding of His love and grace towards us in the process.  However, in taking my eyes off of Him and placing them upon circumstances and others I can still erode my trust in the One who has promised to never leave us or forsake us and introduce a level of worry and concern upon my life and the outcomes and actions of others that God never desires for me or my family to carry.

Comparing the outcome of the fruit of another's life and my own is always a path fraught with snares regardless of personal history.  As Mark Twain put it "Comparison is the death of joy".  More potently Job 5:2 puts it this way:

Resentment kills a fool,
and envy slays the simple.

I am humbled as I continue and will ever continue to lap at this milk of the Word.  My mission, my family's mission, the church's mission is to love.  Plain and simple.  #1 God above all else.  #2 Your neighbor as yourself. 

Though this admonition has been repeated through the ages, it is profound in the fullness of its depth.  Where 1 Corinthians 13:13 states "the greatest of these is ____", unpacking this statement will require the length of eternity as we discover the God who is Love and who died to rescue not only each one of us, but also those we would turn our burning lenses upon.

Grace Through the Right

A wound.  A war of words.  A flash of anger.  Something dark churns within and seeks to rise forth, threatening to dominate speech, seeking to spew retort, and narrowing focus on the chronology of events and utterances.  Fellowship is broken and isolation ensues.  We seek to fill painful voids with others, substituting relationship for relationship lost. 

Or perhaps we withdraw completely, searching out serenity through solitude. Vain attempts are made to conceal and lessen the effects of conflict within; a ripe environment for accusations to thrive.  The unavoidable analysis of others feeds a swelling indictment against our transgressors.  The acidic decay of bitterness erodes faith in humanity deforming hope to despair, transforming joy to melancholy as we question our maker's intent in permitting the injustices of others.

Perhaps we search the antithesis of seclusion by wading into the crowd, obscurity in numbers.  We search out the maelstrom of the masses as we seek to supplant introspection with activity.  Contemplation is muted for the roar of distraction.  Avoidance of self is the goal as we disengage our own depth of suffering and occupy our thoughts and calendar with obligations, service, and the pursuit of purpose.

We are well acquainted with the scriptural axiom to "turn the cheek" but what happens when offense so severe ensues that we are certain that to offer another targeted blow will only result in our own beheading?  Where do we draw the line at grace for others and the right to defend?  Additionally, when does our own righteousness of action permit the right to judge and sentence others?  Is there ever a point when damage so severe has been enacted upon us that we have the right to permanently isolate the offender with no hope of reprieve?  These are weighty questions from one who struggles daily with forgiveness of others and of self.

“Therefore, the Kingdom of Heaven can be compared to a king who decided to bring his accounts up to date with servants who had borrowed money from him.  In the process, one of his debtors was brought in who owed him millions of dollars.  He couldn’t pay, so his master ordered that he be sold—along with his wife, his children, and everything he owned—to pay the debt.

But the man fell down before his master and begged him, ‘Please, be patient with me, and I will pay it all.’  Then his master was filled with pity for him, and he released him and forgave his debt.  But when the man left the king, he went to a fellow servant who owed him a few thousand dollars.  He grabbed him by the throat and demanded instant payment.  His fellow servant fell down before him and begged for a little more time. ‘Be patient with me, and I will pay it,’ he pleaded.  But his creditor wouldn’t wait. He had the man arrested and put in prison until the debt could be paid in full.

When some of the other servants saw this, they were very upset. They went to the king and told him everything that had happened.  Then the king called in the man he had forgiven and said, ‘You evil servant! I forgave you that tremendous debt because you pleaded with me.  Shouldn’t you have mercy on your fellow servant, just as I had mercy on you?’  Then the angry king sent the man to prison to be tortured until he had paid his entire debt.

That’s what my heavenly Father will do to you if you refuse to forgive your brothers and sisters from your heart.”
Matt 18:23-35 (NLT)

"From your heart"...

I hate this passage of scripture because even though I would seek every right to justify my defensive and self protective measures against another, make every argument for self-preservation and the protection of my family, Jesus' words ravage and annihilate any argument I can muster for the permanent isolation of others seeking forgiveness, no matter the nature of the offense.  Where "an eye for an eye" was law, His life and demonstrated love raise the bar to anger towards another no longer being a secretive within the heart but a murderous indictment against self as it corrodes intent and eats at the soul, slowly sapping strength and will. 

And forgiveness?  Certainly we can attempt to appreciate the sin debt and resultant damnation removed from all who call upon Him, but I often choose to argue that I am not God.  I do not have it within to wipe every slate.  But this feeble dissent is again overwhelmed by the power of an eternal sacrifice made on my behalf, one in which I am called to "daily take up" my own cross.  My ultimate desire should always be to emulate the one who made my fellowship with the Majesty in Heaven possible.  This cannot be done if I reserve my right to hold out on complete and unconditional forgiveness of others - even before they ask.  Failure to do so imprisons only myself as I strive in futility to grow and expand in the depth of my journey with Him.  The calling is clear.

^"Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity."
Colossians 3:12-14

In this verse,  the forgiveness the Lord enacted towards us is defined by the Greek word 'charizomai'.  It means to give graciously and freely, to bestow, to restore one to another.  This same word is used in the verse to describe how our actions towards others should occur.  One and the same, we are called to 'charizomai' others.

It is false to say this is not within me - for He is within me.  My nature was reborn for holiness when salvation occurred and to fail to call upon His strength and wisdom to perform the above is willful neglect of command.  Relationship with the offender may never fully be restored and certainly it will not remain unaltered.  Where my sinless and perfectly untainted Holy creator sat within the moral eternal right to leave me forever severed from life and love and in darkness, His overcast grace was spread over humanity for all time for those who will receive it.  Though right was present, grace was enacted.  Just as the debtor in the parable, the expectation is clear - when given opportunity, I am to walk out grace through the right as well.