Sidewalks, Umbrellas, and Systematic Theology

            Maybe God doesn’t care about order; or rather maybe he only cares about it as much as he cares about chaos. Maybe he doesn’t care if every note in a musical piece is played in complete harmony with the others. Maybe he doesn’t care if the musician spent a long time tuning his instrument to get just the right sound. Maybe God doesn’t care about sidewalks. Maybe he doesn’t care about umbrellas either?

            I think it speaks to the nature of man to make sidewalks in places where God makes wild. God didn’t create cities; he created gardens. Our desire to make sense of our world is a gift from God, but it is also a burden. A burden so great it can completely overwhelm our viewpoint. Blinding us to the truth, as if truth is like rain and we hold up our umbrella to protect us from seeing it. And if we hold too much to the search for order, logic, and answers - we miss a great mystery of why God may care about sidewalks or umbrellas.

            Strong personalities write systematic theologies building on deduction by each carefully thought out deduction. Building up truth and knowledge not only protect themselves from doubt but to provide every answer uncertainty may seek. While it is helpful, sometimes all the logic and deduction cannot prepare us for the simple request that comes from God.  

                                                                 GO

                                                                       If our muscles don’t twitch from expectation of the Divine when we review these manuals of theology, then what’s the point? If they do, then it has served a great purpose.

            When God says go, what do we do? Do we go immediately? Do we carefully consider why would God call us to _____? Do search for answers from friends and teachers? Do look for signs and sidewalks? OR do we simply go.

            Often the place God calls us is not paved in sidewalks. We get exposed to the elements of our weaknesses and insecurities and have to confront the wilderness of our lives. Maybe God doesn’t care about sidewalks and umbrellas. Maybe he does. If he cared enough about them, however, he would have created them, right?

Vicarious Connection

Often at work, I stop and think: people were not made to live under florescent lights. People were not made to live separated from nature. But how often do we drift to these as a default setting from day to day.

People were not made to live disconnected from each other. People sometimes walk past me and I smile and say hello and sometimes they don’t even acknowledge me. And then some people will stop and share intimate details of their life because they are hungry for some connection.

How much of our lives are spent plugged into technology. In the past five minutes, I’ve received a facebook notification, an email and a text message. By the end of the day, I will use my laptop, my ipod, my tv, maybe even my kindle and tablet.

           

It’s scary but I understand why people don’t say hello, because sometimes I don’t want to interact with others either. Sometimes it is easier and safer to hide from people behind my technology.

There is so much potential in my little phone. What would Napoleon or Washington have done with my smart phone? What would Socrates have downloaded and read on my kindle? And would technology have helped them to become great men or not?

I wonder about what I missed through text messages? I don’t know the tone of the person I’m talking to, the facial expressions, sarcasm. And how deep can a conversation go through text message.

We desire connection. We desire to be connected to the people around us. While technology is a good thing, I sometimes think it can be a hindrance to developing humans.

Perhaps, we need to utilize technology to help us connect with people but not depend on it to carry us through from text to status. From looking into someone’s eyes or hearing them laugh in front of you, people are unique and deserve your complete attention.

Panhander

I was leaving a parking lot and there was a woman standing holding a sign. A panhandler. I’m sitting in my car and the woman looks young. I read the first couple words before I awkwardly look away. “I have two children….” I can’t look at her or her sign for a moment. A flood of thoughts and images come to my mind.

The first is Jesus as a panhandler. This is the most overwhelming and oppressive image throughout this entire experience. This provokes me to action not only with the woman but also writing this.

Jesus said what you have done to the least of people you have done for me (Mat 25). He also said “When I was hungry, you fed me, thirsty, you gave me drink….” Jesus equated action for the poor and least of society as being done for him. Not just for him as we go to church for God and pray for God and give our offering for God. But actually takes it to a serious degree as in this action happens directly to Him. By Jesus using these words he is saying, “I’m outside your window holding a sign asking for help.”

Am I awkwardly looking away from this person in need because I am selfish? Yeah. I think of the cash I have on me and it’s “my” money right. But it’s not. I have the money because God has given it to me. He’s providing for me and in a weird way, now providing for this woman.

I’m uncomfortable with her standing outside my window. The sheer desperation it takes to hold a sign and declare “I need help. I’m at the end of my rope. I don’t know what else to do.” It is so overwhelming to me.

Then I look at her. She’s not looking at me but she is looking down. Desperation. How hard it is for me to ask for help from friends never mind strangers. And she is broadcasting her need everywhere. She is declaring “Help me”.

Jesus being a panhandler becomes a beautiful image to me. Giving me an opportunity in a matter of seconds to serve Him directly. And I frantically, as the car behind me honks, pull out what little money I have an offer it. It’s not a moment where I say “God bless you” or I pull over to share Jesus or even possible ways she can get help. But in the desperation of the moment, I give what I have.

Commitment

            My alarm goes off and I hit the snooze. I don’t want to get up. I’m tired. I feel myself unable to go back to sleep but close my eyes in the warmth of my bed so I can soak up the last few minutes of unconscious rest. I finally get up and walk straight into the shower. Its warmth almost refreshes me like a cup of coffee. As I get dressed, I put on a tv show and snack on a poptart. I check my email before I leave in case there are any last minute changes I need to know.

            I start to wake up on the drive to church. My thoughts are flying this morning and I’m thinking about something a friend said to me. “Don’t ask your congregation why they go to church? Such a question would make them want to answer it and if they don’t have an answer, they may stop going to church or at the very least your church.”

            I don’t like this thought even though I think about the possible validity of it. It creates a lifestyle founded in fear and distrust. I think also makes you assume people are stupid. I don’t like thinking people as stupid and I don’t want to live in fear. As I think about this and my response to it, I think about commitment.

            I think: “I’m committed to my church.” Later when my church discusses the topic of commitment, I see commitment as an issue everyone struggles with to some degree or another. Some people spoke about commitment with a knowledgeable caution as if commitment to something has cost them more than they wanted or expected. Is commitment good? Of course, I think. Maybe wisdom is needed when I am on the verge of making a commitment. I think about marriage and think about what marriage would look like if there were no commitment. I think if my job wasn’t committed to me as much as I was committed to it, I would or might be unemployed.

            But what does commitment mean when it comes to church? Is commitment the right word to use? Even though I hit the snooze and I may be tired, cranky, lazy, unwilling, close-minded, hungry and in desperate need of my first cup of coffee for the day, I still go and spend my morning among my church family. Even when my flesh calls out for a morning of working through a season of a tv show I fell behind in watching.

            I close my eyes and try to pay attention to the music. I try to connect to what is going on in the service. My mind feels tired from a long week. I’m hungry with a thousand different desires that I can access by the Internet. If I want something bad enough, it isn’t hard for me to get it. But this doesn’t help me to be more committed to something. I think maybe it makes me less committed to everything around me. Maybe it makes me less attached.

            I’m committed to my church, but as I hit the third red light on the way there, I consider if I need a starbucks fix. What if, I’m afraid to think, God wants more from me than commitment? What if commitment isn’t enough? I wrestle with my faith and ask, do I expect God to show up with answers to prayers as fast as I expect packages from Amazon Prime?

            I’m not saying God is displeased with me about going to church or me being committed to my church. I’m not saying God is displeased with technology. But I wonder is God please with the attitude I have when it comes to me being committed?

            Later, someone said a word that hit me. It continued this strain of thought and lifted me. As time stood still and all became clear. I scratched my head and think about it. And then as if inserting the word into a sentence, I consider, “What does loyalty to your church look like? Does it look different from commitment?”

            Playoff season and I watch with pleasure as the Packers lose. Not because it’s the Packers but because they beat my beloved Bears. And in defeating the Bears, it kept them from the playoffs. Whether the Bears win or lose, I’m a fan. Whether they win or lose – I’m loyal. My imagination wanders. A husband who doesn’t look at another woman because he is so committed to his wife that other women aren’t even appealing to him. I go to the same mechanic because I’m loyal, but maybe more than that – I trust him. I purchase the same brands of food because I’m loyal to it. I know what to expect when I buy it. There’s trust in there too.

            Loyalty encompasses commitment but also more than that. It goes with trust. Loyalty also is like becoming a fan. You want what you are loyal to to succeed. And If God wants more than me dragging my feet but showing up on Sunday morning alert, ready, happy, trusting, and a fan of those around me wanting them to succeed cause their success is also my success.

            God is loyal to us. We don’t deserve it. Our wins or losses are his also. What if God wants us more than just a striving commitment but a joyous loyalty? How can I do this? How can I change how I look at going to church to make it more honoring to God? What attitudes interfere with me being loyal to those around me? In what ways can I act out of love and trust rather than fear and ignorance? How can I become more loyal?