Meanwhile in Somalia...

These are pictures of women being stoned, in accordance with Islamic law. It is a horrendous way to die. On October 27, 13 year old Aisha Ibrahim Duhulow was killed in the Somali port city of Kismayo. Here is the story, as reported by the BBC, 16:42 GMT, Tuesday, 4 November 2008:

Stoning victim 'begged for mercy'

A young woman recently stoned to death in Somalia first pleaded for her life, a witness has told the BBC.

"Don't kill me, don't kill me," she said, according to the man who wanted to remain anonymous. A few minutes later, more than 50 men threw stones.

Human rights group Amnesty International says the victim was a 13-year-old girl who had been raped.

Initial reports had said she was a 23-year-old woman who had confessed to adultery before a Sharia court.

Numerous eye-witnesses say she was forced into a hole, buried up to her neck then pelted with stones until she died in front of more than 1,000 people last week.

Meanwhile, Islamists in the capital, Mogadishu have carried out a public flogging.

Islamists are becoming increasingly open in the capital, Mogadishu
Mogadishu is nominally under the control of government forces and their Ethiopian allies, who face frequent attacks by Islamist and nationalist insurgents.

The BBC's Mohammed Olad Hassan in the city says the flogging was a show of strength.

He says two men accused of helping to kill a man and torture his mother, who they accused of theft, were each given 39 lashes in the north-eastern suburb of Suqa-hola.

The man who actually killed the alleged thief was released, after agreeing to pay his family 100 camels in compensation.

Before the flogging, hundreds of Islamist fighters performed a military parade, our reporter says.

Death threats

Cameras were banned from the stoning in Kismayo, but print and radio journalists who were allowed to attend estimated that the woman, Aisha Ibrahim Duhulow, was 23 years old.

People were saying this was not good for Sharia law, this was not good for human rights, this was not good for anything

However, Amnesty said it had learned she was 13, and that her father had said she was raped by three men.

When the family tried to report the rape, the girl was accused of adultery and detained, Amnesty said.

Convicting a girl of 13 for adultery would be illegal under Islamic law.

A human rights activist in the town told the BBC on condition of anonymity that he had received death threats from the Islamic militia, who accuse him of spreading false information about the incident.

He denies having anything to with Amnesty's report.

'Crying'

Court authorities have said the woman came to them admitting her guilt.

She was asked several times to review her confession but she stressed that she wanted Sharia law and the deserved punishment to apply, they said.

But a witness who spoke to the BBC's Today programme said she had been crying and had to be forced into a hole before the stoning, reported to have taken place in a football stadium.

"More than 1,000 people arrived there," he said.

"After two hours, the Islamic administration in Kismayo brought the lady to the place and when she came out she said: 'What do you want from me?'"

"They said: 'We will do what Allah has instructed us'. She said: 'I'm not going, I'm not going. Don't kill me, don't kill me.'

"A few minutes later more than 50 men tried to stone her."

'Checked by nurses'

The witness said people crowding round to see the execution said it was "awful".

"People were saying this was not good for Sharia law, this was not good for human rights, this was not good for anything."

But no-one tried to stop the Islamist officials, who were armed, the witness said. He said one boy was shot in the confusion.

According to Amnesty International, nurses were sent to check during the stoning whether the victim was still alive. They removed her from the ground and declared that she was, before she was replaced so the stoning could continue.

The port of Kismayo was seized in August by a coalition of forces loyal to rebel leader Hassan Turki, and al-Shabab, the country's main radical Islamist insurgent organisation.

Mr Turki is on the US list of "financers of terrorism".

It was the first reported execution by stoning in the southern port city since Islamist insurgents captured it.

The BBC had a reporter in the area, but he was shot dead in Kismayo in June.

Now read John 8:1-11 and meditate on these images:

Guercino (Giovanni Francesco Barbieri; Italian, ca. 1591-1666), Christ and the Woman Taken in Adultery, 1621.

Chinese print, no date.



Rembrandt, Christ And The Woman Taken In Adultery 1644, Oil on wood, 83,8 x 65,4 cm, National Gallery, London.


The Woman taken in Adultery by Jobst Harrich, c 1600. CGFA



A sculpture of Jesus and the children, by Mary Southard, C.S.J.

People of the Lie

Years ago I read a book by M. Scott Peck called People of the Lie. In it Peck, a psychiatrist, "describes the stories of several people who came to him whom he found particularly resistant to any form of help. He came to think of them as evil goes on to describe to describe the characteristics of evil in psychological terms, proposing that it could become a psychiatric diagnosis."

Peck tells the haunting story of a troubled boy, brought to him by his parents for evaluation. Horrible enough to read that his brother committed suicide, but incredibly, Peck goes on to reveal that for the boy's birthday, his parents gave him, as a gift, the same gun his brother used to kill himself. It is this sort of evil that defies natural explanation.

Here is Michael Covel's summary:

The central defect of 'the evil' is not the sin but the refusal to acknowledge it. More often than not these people will be looked at as solid citizens. How can that be? How can they be evil and not designated as criminals? The key word is designated. They are criminals in that they commit crimes against life and liveliness...their crimes are so subtle and covert that they cannot clearly be designated as crimes. The theme of hiding and covertness will occur again and again throughout the rest of this book. It is the basis for the title People of the Lie.

Evil deeds do not make an evil person. Otherwise we would all be evil. If evil people cannot be defined by the illegality of their deeds or the magnitude of their sins, then how are we to define them? The answer is by the consistency of their sins. While usually subtle, their destructiveness is remarkably consistent. This is because those who have crossed over the line are characterized by their absolute refusal to tolerate the sense of their own sinfulness.

The poor in spirit do not commit evil. Evil is not committed by people who feel uncertain about their righteousness, who question their own motives, who worry about betraying themselves. The evil of this world is committed by the spiritual fat cats, by the Pharisee's of our own day, the self-righteous who think they are without sin because they are unwilling to suffer the discomfort of significant self-examination. It is out of their failure to put themselves on trial that their evil arises. They are, in my experience remarkably greedy people.

A predominant characteristic of the behavior that I call evil is scapegoating. Because in their hearts they consider themselves above reproach, they must lash out at anyone who does reproach them. They sacrifice others to preserve their self-image of perfection
.
Utterly dedicated to preserving their self-image of perfection, they are unceasingly engaged in the effort to maintain the appearance of moral purity. They are acutely sensitive to social norms and what others might think of them. They seem to live lives that are above reproach. The words image, appearance and outwardly are crucial to understanding the morality of 'the evil'. While they lack any motivation to be good, they intensely desire to appear good. Their goodness is all on a level of pretense. It is in effect a lie. Actually the lie is designed not so much to deceive others as to deceive themselves. We lie only when we are attempting to cover up something we know to be illicit. At one and the same time 'the evil' are aware of their evil and desperately trying to avoid the awareness. We become evil by attempting to hide from ourselves. The wickedness of 'the evil' is not committed directly, but indirectly as a part of this cover-up process.

Evil originates not in the absence of guilt but in the effort to escape it.

It often happens then that 'the evil' may be recognized by its very disguise. Because they are such experts at disguise, it is seldom possible to pinpoint the maliciousness of 'the evil'. The disguise is usually impenetrable.

They are not pain avoiders or lazy people in general. To the contrary, they are likely to exert themselves more than most in their continuing effort to obtain and maintain an image of respectability. They may willingly, even eagerly, undergo great hardships in their search for status. It is only one particular pain they cannot tolerate: the pain of their own conscience, the pain of realization of their own sinfulness and imperfection.

They are men and women of obviously strong will, determined to have their own way. There is a remarkable power in the manner in which they attempt to control others.

Those who are evil are masters of disguise; they are not apt to wittingly disclose their true colors - either to others or to themselves. It is not without reason that the serpent is renowned for his subtlety. We therefore cannot pass judgment on a person for a single act. Instead judgment must be made on the basis of a whole pattern of acts as well as their manner and style.

Think of the psychic energy required for the continued maintenance of the pretense so characteristic of 'the evil'! They perhaps direct at least as much energy into their devious rationalizations and destructive compensations as the healthies do into loving behavior. Why? What possesses them, drives them? Basically, it is fear. They are terrified that the pretense will break down and they will be exposed to the world and to themselves.

Evil people would be distinguished by these traits:
1.) Consistent destructive, scapegoating behavior, which may often be quite subtle.
2.) Excessive, albeit usually covert, intolerance to criticism and other forms of narcissistic injury.

3.) Pronounced concern with a public image and self-image of respectability, contributing to a stability of lifestyle but also to pretentiousness and denial of hateful feelings or vengeful motives.

4.) Intellectual deviousness, with an increased likelihood of a mild schizophrenic-like disturbance of thinking at times of stress.

If Peck's description of "evil" is accurate, I think I might have come upon one of the first truly evil people I have ever known. Kyrie eleison; Christe eleison; Kyrie eleison.

Ministry as Sponging

Isaiah 53:
He was despised and forsaken of men,
A man of sorrows and acquainted with grief;
And like one from whom men hide their face
He was despised, and we did not esteem Him.
Surely our griefs He Himself bore,
And our sorrows He carried.

This Lent I am learning how to be a sponge.

If Jesus' battle with sin, death and the devil has been won on cross, what we are presently engaging in is a mop-up operation. That means as his disciples, we are to absorb sin, suffering, grief and despair, just like He did.

So I am trying to learn how to be a sponge.

• I am trying to learn how to walk with an Iranian woman through the valley of the shadow of death.
• I am trying to learn how to listen to people who are depressed and angry with those I love.
• I am trying to learn how to help someone shoulder shame, frustration and abandonment.
• I am trying to learn how to enter into lives marked by pain, disease, and poverty.
• I am trying to learn how to carry on when what I have to give is rejected.

I'm learning I'm need to be a lot more absorbent! But that's scary, because the more absorbent the sponge, the more porous it is. I'm not much for being drilled, shot through or eaten away.

We Protestants don't like to talk about it much, but the call to ministry is an invitation to allow oneself to be used as a sponge. Pastoral ministry--dare I use the term, "priesthood"--demands that one be extra-absorbent.

Sure, we like to claim that all believers are priests, but when we say this, I'm not sure that we are always thinking of allowing ourselves to be scrubbed over the world's dirt, wrung out, rinsed and repeated. We prefer to think of priesthood in terms of issues of direct access, not matters of soaking and swabbing.

A robust church is an absorbent church, but one which doesn't tear or lose its shape when it is repeatedly wrung out.

He was oppressed and He was afflicted,
Yet He did not open His mouth;
Like a lamb that is led to slaughter,
And like a sheep that is silent before its shearers,
So He did not open His mouth.

Good sponges do not resist squeezing, nor do they make much sound when compressed. Similarly, when flattened, good ministers do not turn combative, but yield themselves and silently pour themselves out before the Lord.

...He poured out Himself to death,
And was numbered with the transgressors;
Yet He Himself bore the sin of many,
And interceded for the transgressors.

Jesus was ultra-absorbent. He became sin, for our sakes. He was so absorbent that when wrung out on the cross, not only water but blood flowed.

Hebrews 12
Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood.

I'm feeling wrung out, but I haven't yet shed blood. I can't wait for the ultimate Easter when there won't be any more sin to mop up, and our sponges will be transformed into prisms.

-------------------------------

Lord,

teach us not to be afraid to be crushed by sin, because you were crushed, and you sprang back, bounding out of the tomb.

You have already done the heavy cleaning on the cross, and in rising again you have proven that no matter how toxic the spill, you are able help us absorb it, and then remove it from us, as far as the east is from the west.

Present us spotless before you, Jesus, and help us in turn to allow you to use us to clean up all creation.

The Trinity, N.T .Wright, and Mohammad

Visiting today with A. and her Muslim "seeker" mother, Mamma D. and her deeply Muslim mother-in law, Mamma B. At one point the conversation turned to things theological. It was held simultaneously in English and Farsi translation. Mamma B. was actively involved; Mamma B. listened, but didn't say much.

A:" So Mamma D. wants to know if God has children.

Me: (seeing where this is headed) Well, Jesus is His Son...and the Bible does call us His children....

A: But then God is not one?

Me: (frantic: how do you explain the Trinity, to Muslims, when you yourself cannot speak Farsi? Lord, thanks for the chance to speak about You. Help me not to mess it up!) No, God is one; he is one substance, but three persons....He is so great, so powerful, so amazing that who He is not be contained in just one person. (hopefully that will connect with the Muslim reverence for God's sovereignty and power.)

It's like an egg. (good old eggs!) There's the yolk and the white and the shell. It's all egg, but the yolk is not the white, and the white is not the shell, and the shell is not the yolk...but the yolk is egg; the white is egg, and the shell is egg.

A: (Smiles broadly as she translates my words, seeing that Mamma D. is understanding them and clearly entertaining the possibility that God could be one, and yet three.) So there are not three gods.

Me: NO! Not three gods! Only one God! Muslims say there is only one God; and Christians agree! But we say He is three persons, not just one person.

A: So Jesus is God. Muslims think he is just a prophet, think He is not God. But Christians believe He is really God.

(conversation continues, Mamma B. eventually leaves)

----------------------------------------------------------------

A: (still translating, with a doubtful look) Do Christians believe in reincarnation?

Me: No. We believe in resurrection.

A: So do Muslims. We believe after we die we either go to up to heaven or down to hell. [At this point the reader might want to read this.]

Me: Hmm. Well, we both believe in an afterlife, don't we. Christians think that when we die we go to be with God, but that when He is ready He will give us back new, even better bodies than these, and He will come and live with us. (I breathe a prayer of relief: Thank goodness for Bishop Wright's recent interview in Time! )

A: Muslims don't think that; they think we go live with God.

Me: Well, they're on the right track, but they just need to know that God loves his creation so much that someday, when Satan is gone and there are no more tears or pain, He will come "down" and live with us. Just like in the beginning, when He walked with Adam and Eve in the garden. (Remembering the Time article, it is clear to me that the picture of heaven Maria Shriver paints has much more in common with Mamma B's vision than with the Bible!)

A: (quite satisfied, and explaining this to her mother) We don't need to be afraid of God! Jesus is his Son. He makes us friends with God.

Me: Yes! (remembering Luke 10:20-22, "I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children. Yes, Father, for this was your good pleasure.

All things have been committed to me by my Father. No one knows who the Son is except the Father, and no one knows who the Father is except the Son and those to whom the Son chooses to reveal him."

A: When I was Muslim I always afraid of God. I fear God. Beth, I confess something. I think I love Jesus more than God (she meant the Father). Is that bad?

Me: Well, A., it's understandable, since all your life when you think of God you think of someone scary. But Jesus comes to show us we don't have to be scared of His Father.

A: Mamma D. wants to know: if Jesus protect us from his angry Father we can do bad things and never be punished?

Me: (Aha! This is why I believe grace is infused/imparted, not simply imputed! ) Well, Jesus is not like a blanket that hides us from an angry Father, so God doesn't see us and gets fooled. No. Jesus not only comes to tell us how his father wants us to be, he came and showed us. And he comes and lives in us, when we invite him to. That means that His goodness and truth and beauty start "growing" in us, and we begin to be more and more like Him, not sinning. So when God looks at us, He sees we are not perfect, but he also sees Jesus working inside us to get rid of sin, and that makes Him happy.

A: (suddenly downcast.) Beth. I confess. I jealous. Mamma D. bring back DVD of my family, and they all dancing and happy and beautiful. And I jealous. I want to know why God not let me be healthy, and beautiful. I not beautiful. I am in pain. Very bad pain, all the time. God is greater than Satan! Why he not tell Satan to stop hurting me?

Me: (Oh no, the problem of evil!) Oh A! Someday God will stop Satan. It's just not time yet. (Just this past Sunday the lectionary included Matthew 4:1-11. I try to build on that.) Remember in Matthew when Satan tempts Jesus? Jesus is hungry, and Satan tries to get him to change stones into bread...and He tries to get Jesus to jump...

A: (Brightening) Oh yes! I remember that. I love that story. He try to get Jesus to jump from high building but Jesus say NO!

B: Well, A., if Satan is so bold that he tries to tempt Jesus, and God didn't stop him from tempting His own Son, then who are you and I to demand He stop Satan for us right now? The Bible says someday God will throw Satan into a lake of fire and he will be gone forever, and God himself will wipe away every tear from our eyes, and there will finally be no more sin or pain."

We wound up praying together: A in the middle of the sofa, Momma D. on her left, me on her right. We thanked God for bringing A's family to be with her, and asked him to help her endure her pain, and even take it from her, if that were possible. We asked him to forgive us of our sins, and help us to be more like His son. Momma D. couldn't understand our English, but I think--I pray-- she was in agreement with us.

Cooking-impaired

Some people are color-blind. Some people are tone-deaf. I am cooking-impaired.

Another chapter in the Continuing Saga:

Last night I was grilling chicken. When I came out after 15 minutes to check how the breasts were doing, the right burner was out, so that the two breasts on the left were coming along nicely and the two on the right were stone cold. Aaargh!

Tonight I wanted to make a lovely meal for Steve and Joanna. Fridays are long days for them both, so I thought Beef Stroganoff would be nice. I had 1.5 lbs of beef, a lb. of clean white mushrooms, butter, onions, garlic, sour cream and a nice dose of sherry. After frying up the firm white mushrooms and onions, I left the beef to simmer in the liquid for half an hour, just as the recipe said. Alas, before the time was up, I began to smell something burning. I lifted the lid and presto--blackened beef glued to a sticky black base assaulted me.

I give up. I really shouldn't be doing this, and I can't wait until I don't ever have to enter a kitchen again. Pavlov was right. Negative reinforcement helps eliminate behaviors. My negative reinforcment rate in the kitchen is running at about 9o%.

So I have an idea: you cook, I'll clean! Or better yet, forget cooking. I'll bake, and we can survive on chocolate chip cookies.

"God must not love me anymore"

Visited A. today. She now weighs less than 100 lbs and is in constant pain, all over her body. Each day she takes 9 ibuprofins and 3 oxycontins. She's had a straight week of chemo which has left her unable to walk. She was bitterly disappointed to miss her first Christmas at VCC as a Christian. Today's conversation was particularly wrenching:

A: "Beth, God must not love me anymore. I pray and pray and He does not take away the pain. In fact, it has gotten even worse since H. (her husband) has decided he will tell his parents that I am a Christian and that he supports me in following Christ.

Me: "Oh, A., it is not God who sends the pain, but Satan. God loves you and will always love you."

A: "But I have so much pain!"

Me: "But His own Son had pain, too, and God loved Him!"

A: "Yes, but Jesus' pain was only a couple of days. I have had pain for months. I pray to Jesus and say, 'let's trade places; give me your pain and please take mine.' But he doesn't hear me."

These are the points where conversation ends and tears begin to flow.

Nearing the Finish Line: A. continues the fight, August 2

Yesterday A. had exploratory surgery that showed the cancer has spread beyond the reach of a surgeon's knife. She will be having further chemo in an attempt to buy her more time, but it will be extremely powerful and will leave her nauseated and bedridden. She is so tired of fighting! Her husband, H., is having difficulty accepting her prognosis. He believes that positive thinking will bring healing, so he does not want others around her to "be negative" or speak about death.

A hospice nurse once told me that there are two ways he has seen people die: they either resign themselves to their mortality, and choose to spend their energy saying goodbye and enjoying the time that remains; or they "rage against the dying of the light." I suppose having a son who is not yet two years old would tend to cause one to fight. May the Lord strengthen A. for this final battle.

We are also praying:

1. That H's love for A might find its ultimate expression, in allowing her the freedom to choose not to fight anymore, if that is what she wants.

2. for H's own health.

H. has not slept for days. His blood pressure is alarming, and he is having numbness and tingling sensations in his left arm. He has not been able to attend to his business much at all because he has made caring for A. his #1 priority. It's ironic. H. is not a believer, but he could well be the poster boy for Ephesians 5:28. I can think of some Christian husbands who would do well to take lessons from H. regarding what it means to be like Christ to their wives!

3. that A. might be able to see her mother.

Last week A's mother traveled from Teheran to the American consulate in Dubai, in order to request a visa to enter the U.S. to visit her dying daughter. She brought all the forms, proof of property ownership in Iran, a letter from A's doctor here in the U.S., and the $110 fee for the privilege of an appointment at the consulate.

Once in the office, the official glanced at the stack of papers, then at her, and shoved them back at her, saying the U.S. will not allow Iranians to enter. A's mother was frantic and outraged--if this was the policy, why did they string her along, and take her money? Why didn't they say so from the start? She returned home in despair, and when A. heard the news, she too was plunged into even deeper depression.

We have requested VCC members to contact our Congressman Peter de Fazio and Senator Smith regarding her mother's visa problems, but I am not sure if there is anything they can do, and even if they can, if there is enough time.

H. is desperately entertaining every alternative. He is considering having his mother-in-law fly to Cancun, and then flying there with A. for a few days; but again, I cannot see how A. can fly anywhere. She is so weak, and the chances of infection are so great...

4. for their little son M., who is now 22 months old.

When I came this afternoon, A. was on the phone with her brother in Iran. He and her mother are insisting that if she dies, she be buried in Iran, and that M. be raised by his grandmother. A. was in tears. "M. is as much H's son as he is mine," she wept. "I cannot do this. But do you think I should go back to Iran to be buried?"

I reassured her that I thought her intuitions were good, that H. loved M. and would know best how to take care of him; that M. was probably safer here than in Iran; and that she should be wherever her husband is, because according to the Bible, she and H. are one flesh, and that that relationship takes precedence over other family relations.

A. worries that M. will not remember her. That would be another reason for her to be buried in the U.S., so M. could at least see her grave. (I worry that M. will remember her, but will not be able to express and work through his grief the way an older child might so do.) M. plays happily outside with his nanny...while his mother has made his bedroom her own, so that she might be near him. At least he is unaware of her pain...

5. For A, that her pain might continue to be controlled, and that she might be at peace and surrounded with the love of her family, friends, and heavenly Father.

2 Corinthians 4:16-18
Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is te mporary, but what is unseen is eternal

A. Continues the fight: July 17

A. is continuing to have a difficult time. Her enzyme count is progressively increasing, and she is panicking. What if Jesus doesn't heal her? What will happen to her son, M. and her husband, H.? What will happen to her mother and brothers, who assured her that if Jesus healed her, they would believe in Him? She is beginning to worry that she is losing her faith.

When we are stressed we often revert to what is automatic, and what is automatic for A. is to see God as Divine Despot. For 37 years she has only known Allah, and he was a god of testing and punishment. Recently, conversing with her about our God is like talking with a hyper-calvinist. She has a wonderfully complete understanding of God's sovereignty; but just introductory experience of His compassion. "I am not human; I am an animal," she said to me Sunday, crying from a pit of depression. "God does not love me."

Her life story has been a harsh one. Every time things seemed to ease up something horrible would follow. When her beloved father died, she had to support the family. That meant she had no time for friends or fun, muchless marriage. People began to call her nasty things, because she had no husband. Her own cousins made fun of her, and her aunt never tired of pointing out her own daughters' accomplishments and social standing to A. and her mother.

Once she married H. and left her native country, she had a little over a year of absolute joy. There followed nine months of rough pregnancy; and four months after M. was born, the news that she had stage IV stomach cancer. Then chemo, which gave her several months of remission that she took for healing. But the raised enzyme levels signaled otherwise. It was at that point that her dreams began, of a man in white beckoning her to come to him. It wasn't long after that that she learned about Jesus, began reading the NT and decided to become a Christian.

Those were exciting times. Who knew what God would do next? H's relative who had converted quite a while ago sent her tapes and reading material in Farsi from her church in California. Steve and I were careful to counter some of what we suspected she was getting from those tapes, so that intellectually A. knew that trusting Christ was no guarantee for healing. But her heart must have been convinced otherwise: Jesus is God! God is love! Surely He will have mercy on me, show His power and remove all traces of cancer from my body!

Now it seems like God is not going to heal her, and Satan is exploiting the situation: "See, God is not love. This is the will of Allah. He desires that you suffer. He wants you to die. He wants your son to be without a mother. He wants H. to marry again, and M. will not ever be a Christian if that happens."

This is not the time to reason with A. "This kind can only come out with much prayer." May the Lord give me His mind so that I can pray well , and may I be able to embody Jesus' love so that A. will see Him, and not me.

And if you are still reading this, ora pro nobis.

A. continues the fight

We were well into the second song of the morning when A. stumbled in to worship, with a dozen apricot roses in a vase. I took them from her, placed them on the altar and led her to her chair next to mine. She is wiped out, physically and emotionally. Her cancer enzyme levels are high and she's in horrific pain, praying that she can have another chemo tomorrow. The pain meds that used to bring her relief for 8 hours now are only working for just a couple hours, and she thinks something has "changed" within her kidneys.

As difficult as it is to see her physical suffering, it is even more difficult to witness her spiritual trials. "I must have done something to make Jesus not love me any more," she whispers. "He doesn't come to me anymore. He doesn't hear me." (She hasn't had any more dreams recently.) "Every night I pray he come to me, but He doesn't." I try to reassure her, to be Christ to her, but it is a challenge for both of us.

According to the internet, "Doctors generally think a patient is doing very well if they are still alive two years after being diagnosed with stomach cancer that has spread. Fewer than 1 in 20 people (5%) live for at least 5 years if they have stage 4 stomach cancer when they are diagnosed."

A. is teaching me how important the difference is between optimism, hope and hope in Christ. (cf. Dr. Jerome Groopman, author of , The Anatomy of Hope: How People Prevail in the Face of Illness, http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/4269238/
I don't want to rob A. of hope in Christ; but I do want to guard her from mere optimism and point her to a fuller hope which is not just grounded in human volition. Groopman writes:

"I think the will to live is a very powerful force. It’s instinctual, it probably varies from person to person. Hope is different. It has a cognitive or informational component which involves gaining knowledge, learning, seeing what’s in front of you, and with that, making very deliberate choices. The will to live is very important, in terms of survival. Hope is a higher function. You need both, for sure. If you don’t have a will to live, it’s very hard to find hope."

Groopman was asked: "When a patient feels more in control do you think it helps? Or are there instances when feeling in control can’t help?

"Having control potentially can help clinically in terms of outcome, but it may not. Again, it’s not a magic wand where you switch it on like a light. Still, having a sense of control is extremely beneficial in terms of lowering fear and anxiety and being able to make choices. There is a whole other dimension to hope, though. The very last line of the book says, “For those who have hope, it may help some to live longer, and it will help all to live better.” When you have a sense of control, when you’ve made choices and you don’t feel totally at the mercy of those around you, it can give a person enormous comfort and strength and equilibrium in facing very difficult circumstances.

The question of course is a philosophical one: what is hope? Is it the ability to choose or the conviction that one has been chosen? One will focus on doing something according to some formula, the other will focus on being in a relationship. One will focus on the self as agent; the other will focus on God as agent. One can only end in frustration; the other leads to life and love.

Psalm 33

18 But the eyes of the LORD are on those who fear him,
on those whose hope is in his unfailing love,

19 to deliver them from death
and keep them alive in famine.

20 We wait in hope for the LORD;
he is our help and our shield.

21 In him our hearts rejoice,
for we trust in his holy name.

22 May your unfailing love rest upon us, O LORD,
even as we put our hope in you.

What do I desire?

Psalm 37:4

Delight yourself in the LORD and he will give you the desires of your heart.

I Kings 3

5 At Gibeon the LORD appeared to Solomon during the night in a dream, and God said, "Ask for whatever you want me to give you."
6 Solomon answered, "You have shown great kindness to your servant, my father David, because he was faithful to you and righteous and upright in heart. You have continued this great kindness to him and have given him a son to sit on his throne this very day.
7 "Now, O LORD my God, you have made your servant king in place of my father David. But I am only a little child and do not know how to carry out my duties. 8 Your servant is here among the people you have chosen, a great people, too numerous to count or number. 9 So give your servant a discerning heart to govern your people and to distinguish between right and wrong. For who is able to govern this great people of yours?"
10 The Lord was pleased that Solomon had asked for this. 11 So God said to him, "Since you have asked for this and not for long life or wealth for yourself, nor have asked for the death of your enemies but for discernment in administering justice, 12 I will do what you have asked. I will give you a wise and discerning heart, so that there will never have been anyone like you, nor will there ever be. 13 Moreover, I will give you what you have not asked for—both riches and honor—so that in your lifetime you will have no equal among kings. 14 And if you walk in my ways and obey my statutes and commands as David your father did, I will give you a long life." 15 Then Solomon awoke—and he realized it had been a dream.

From G.K. Chesteron's St Thomas Aquinas, the Dumb Ox, Chapter 5; http://www.cse.dmu.ac.uk/~mward/gkc/books/aquinas.html#chap5

But probably the most representative revelation of this side of his life may be found in the celebrated story of the miracle of the crucifix; when in the stillness of the church of St. Dominic in Naples, a voice spoke from the carven Christ, and told the kneeling Friar that he had written rightly, and offered him the choice of a reward among all the things of the world.

Not all, I think, have appreciated the point of this particular story as applied to this particular saint. It is an old story, in so far as it is simply the offer made to a devotee of solitude or simplicity, of the pick of all the prizes of life. The hermit, true or false, the fakir, the fanatic or the cynic, Stylites on his column or Diogenes in his tub, can all be pictured as tempted by the powers of the earth, of the air or of the heavens, with the offer of the best of everything; and replying that they want nothing. In the Greek cynic or stoic it really meant the mere negative; that he wanted nothing. In the Oriental mystic or fanatic, it sometimes meant a sort of positive negative; that he wanted Nothing; that Nothing was really what he wanted. Sometimes it expressed a noble independence, and the twin virtues of antiquity, the love of liberty and the hatred of luxury. Sometimes it only expressed a self-sufficiency that is the very opposite of sanctity. But even the stories of real saints, of this sort, do not quite cover the case of St. Thomas. He was not a person who wanted nothing; and he was a person who was enormously interested in everything. His answer is not so inevitable or simple as some may suppose. As compared with many other saints, and many other philosophers, he was avid in his acceptance of Things; in his hunger and thirst for Things. It was his special spiritual thesis that there really are things; and not only the Thing; that the Many existed as well as the One. I do not mean things to eat or drink or wear, though he never denied to these their place in the noble hierarchy of Being; but rather things to think about, and especially things to prove, to experience and to know. Nobody supposes that Thomas Aquinas, when offered by God his choice among all the gifts of God, would ask for a thousand pounds, or the Crown of Sicily, or a present of rare Greek wine. But he might have asked for things that he really wanted: and he was a man who could want things; as he wanted the lost manuscript of St. Chrysostom. He might have asked for the solution of an old difficulty; or the secret of a new science; or a flash of the inconceivable intuitive mind of the angels, or any one of a thousand things that would really have satisfied his broad and virile appetite for the very vastness and variety of the universe. The point is that for him, when the voice spoke from between the outstretched arms of the Crucified, those arms were truly opened wide, and opening most gloriously the gates of all the worlds; they were arms pointing to the east and to the west, to the ends of the earth and the very extremes of existence. They were truly spread out with a gesture of omnipotent generosity; the Creator himself offering Creation itself; with all its millionfold mystery of separate beings, and the triumphal chorus of the creatures. That is the blazing background of multitudinous Being that gives the particular strength, and even a sort of surprise, to the answer of St. Thomas, when he lifted at last his head and spoke with, and for, that almost blasphemous audacity which is one with the humility of his religion; "I will have Thyself."

Or, to add the crowning and crushing irony to this story, so uniquely Christian for those who can really understand it, there are some who feel that the audacity is softened by insisting that he said, "Only Thyself."

What do I desire?

Lord, help me to desire You.

Words for this season of life

1 Peter 4

12 Dear friends, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that has come on you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. 13 But rejoice inasmuch as you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed. 14 If you are insulted because of the name of Christ, you are blessed, for the Spirit of glory and of God rests on you. 15 If you suffer, it should not be as a murderer or thief or any other kind of criminal, or even as a meddler. 16 However, if you suffer as a Christian, do not be ashamed, but praise God that you bear that name. 17 For it is time for judgment to begin with God's household; and if it begins with us, what will the outcome be for those who do not obey the gospel of God? 18 And,
"If it is hard for the righteous to be saved,
what will become of the ungodly and the sinner?"

19 So then, those who suffer according to God's will should commit themselves to their faithful Creator and continue to do good.

I am trying very hard to live these words. We are suffering, but I'm trying to commit myself to my faithful Creator and do good. Last week's efforts produced $1614 from the Youth Garage Sale; next Tuesday I will make sure all the tables are up, set and decorated for the 80 people at the High School Graduation dinner; and then there is A. and her needs and the possibility of two weeks of teaching Cornerstone.

Even thought it may appear so, I am not hiding from the pain by trying to keep busy. I think this work that I've been given is building something within me that is helping me to face reality , and which will enable me, when called upon, to "call a spade a spade."

Lord, show me your Son, even if it means sharing the reality of His suffering. Please give me the strength to continue to do good, and the courage to speak His truth to your people when the time comes. In Jesus' name. Amen.

http://richardkew.blogspot.com/

Back in the Sixties, Dr. Francis Shaeffer's first book was published. It was entitled Escape from Reason, and while Shaeffer's style was not what you would call readily accessible, it was profoundly influential in the lives of many of us who were struggling to work out how to think Christianly -- and, as a result, live Christianly. If Shaeffer had been alive and writing today I suspect the content would have been significantly different and the title might have been Escape from Reality.

We live today in a culture that it seems will do almost anything to hide from reality. We entertain ourselves to death, and we think nothing of repackaging facts, notions, and ideas so that they will not disturb our illusions. We refuse to take words (or in the Christian world, the Word) at plain face value, and then we reinterpret and twist them to suit our own preferences and propensities. Our world is one that is much more comfortable with image rather than substance, and puts feelings before objectivities.

This came home to me afresh when talking recently with my younger daughter, who is a physician. As part of her residency in a gynecology rotation she was asked if she would be prepared to spend a morning observing abortions, something with which she found herself as a committed and biblical Christian struggling. Finally she decided that if she was to be able to give adequate advice in the future to her patients, then at least she should have some first hand knowledge of what happens in such unfortunate circumstances.

On that day there were two procedures. One was a gynecological necessity: something had gone so terribly wrong in the womb that the fertilized egg had died as a result of some unexplained deformity. This was, as she pointed out to me, little more than a D. and C. The other was the termination of a twelve-week pregnancy. My daughter told me that she put on a professional face while having to put her heart, head, and emotions on hold for a while.

As she explained to me what happened I realized that what was going on in that medical situation was akin to an escape from reality by means of being trying to cloud what was going on. Before the procedure began an ultrasound was taken, but the patient was discouraged from seeing it. No explanation was given, but the only reason must have been that at that point the fetus looked so much a baby that it might discourage the mother from going forward.

Then the procedure was completed and the pump had done its work, those working in the operating room had to go through the contents of the receptacle to make sure that nothing had been left behind. As it happened all the organs were there: tiny arms, legs, a head, and so forth. Yet all the time the fiction was being maintained that this was merely the removal of something unwanted that had invaded this woman's body.

Even the language that was used in this particular environment was framed to prevent an actual discussion of the mindset behind such medical events. Rather than talking of the options of pro-choice and pro-life, the appropriate terminology was pro-choice and anti-choice. I suspect that behind this was the fact that being able to choose from a vast array of possibilities is the ultimate good in the postmodern world, so language is configured to make it seem that those who believed that a child had been conceived and now discarded were standing in the way of what is best within our culture.

I tell this story not because I find abortion deeply repugnant (which I do), but because it is such a clear illustration of the manner in which we are willing to put up with the distortion of reality in so many areas and disciplines of life. I would go so far as saying that we live in a world that had an inbuilt determination to do its best hide its head in the sand rather than the sometimes uncomfortable and painful business of facing up to reality.

We see this syndrome working itself out in all sorts of settings and disciplines, and I suspect there are probably times when we catch ourselves doing it. Facing up to reality is not a lot of fun, whether it is the implications of climate change and the part each of us might play in it, to the pitiful messes that we make of our own individual lives and relationships -- yet there is a difference between attempting to cushion life's pressures and trying to avoid them.

At the heart of Christian discipleship is the task of facing and facing up to reality, for at its heart is the incarnation and the work of the Cross, which are God's way of enabling us to deal with the tragedies and hardships that reality engenders. Eugene Peterson recently wrote, "We can refuse to permit the culture to dictate the way we go about our lives" (The Jesus Way page 13) and so we should if we are serious about our faith. This means being willing to face up to reality and its consequences, rather than hiding ourselves away from it, and as they say around the part of the world where I grew up, 'calling a spade a spade.'

St. Theresa's less popular meditation

"I suffer much but do I suffer well? That is the important thing."

--from Prayers and Meditations of Therese of Lisieux

"East Coker," by T.S. Eliot

I love the Four Quartets. "East Coker" provides rich material for meditation on Good Friday:

III
O dark dark dark. They all go into the dark,
The vacant interstellar spaces, the vacant into the vacant,
The captains, merchant bankers, eminent men of letters,
The generous patrons of art, the statesmen and the rulers,
Distinguished civil servants, chairmen of many committees,
Industrial lords and petty contractors, all go into the dark,
And dark the Sun and Moon, and the Almanach de Gotha
And the Stock Exchange Gazette, the Directory of Directors,
And cold the sense and lost the motive of action.
And we all go with them, into the silent funeral,
Nobody's funeral, for there is no one to bury.
I said to my soul, be still, and let the dark come upon you
Which shall be the darkness of God. As, in a theatre,
The lights are extinguished, for the scene to be changed
With a hollow rumble of wings, with a movement of darkness on darkness,
And we know that the hills and the trees, the distant panorama
And the bold imposing facade are all being rolled away—
Or as, when an underground train, in the tube, stops too long between stations
And the conversation rises and slowly fades into silence
And you see behind every face the mental emptiness deepen
Leaving only the growing terror of nothing to think about;
Or when, under ether, the mind is conscious but conscious of nothing—
I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope
For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love,
For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith
But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.
Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.
Whisper of running streams, and winter lightning.
The wild thyme unseen and the wild strawberry,
The laughter in the garden, echoed ecstasy
Not lost, but requiring, pointing to the agony
Of death and birth.
You say I am repeating
Something I have said before. I shall say it again.
Shall I say it again? In order to arrive there,
To arrive where you are, to get from where you are not,
You must go by a way wherein there is no ecstasy.
In order to arrive at what you do not know
You must go by a way which is the way of ignorance.
In order to possess what you do not possess
You must go by the way of dispossession.
In order to arrive at what you are not
You must go through the way in which you are not.
And what you do not know is the only thing you know
And what you own is what you do not own
And where you are is where you are not.


IV
The wounded surgeon plies the steel
That questions the distempered part;
Beneath the bleeding hands we feel
The sharp compassion of the healer's art
Resolving the enigma of the fever chart.
Our only health is the disease
If we obey the dying nurse
Whose constant care is not to please
But to remind of our, and Adam's curse,
And that, to be restored, our sickness must grow worse.
The whole earth is our hospital
Endowed by the ruined millionaire,
Wherein, if we do well, we shall
Die of the absolute paternal care
That will not leave us, but prevents us everywhere.
The chill ascends from feet to knees,
The fever sings in mental wires.
If to be warmed, then I must freeze
And quake in frigid purgatorial fires
Of which the flame is roses, and the smoke is briars.
The dripping blood our only drink,
The bloody flesh our only food:
In spite of which we like to think
That we are sound, substantial flesh and blood—
Again, in spite of that, we call this Friday good