Our reflections this week have been bouncing off a conversation recorded over 2,000 years ago, about heaven, resurrection, life after death. I explore such things as part of my ministry of preaching. But does anyone else care about these ancient debates – what kind of bodies, if any, will carry our souls; in what kind of community will we gather after death; when will the end times be? Are these just “first century problems,” or relevant now?
If thinking about these things leads to anxiety, it is of little value. If it leads to what Paul call’s God’s gift of “eternal comfort and good hope,” then it’s worth exploring. If dwelling on heaven can make us more peaceful and joyful and hopeful here and now, bring it on.
75 years ago tomorrow, the world witnessed Kristallnacht, that night in 1938 when the Nazis first unleashed across Germany and Austria the fury against Jews that would culminate in the horrors and devastations of the Holocaust. November 9-10, hundreds of synagogues were burned, shops looted, homes and people terrorized.
My father was a Jewish 13-year-old in Vienna at the time. He lived through it. I can’t even imagine the terror of a populace who knew the Nazi presence in Austria wasn’t a good thing, but still hoped their leaders would successfully avoid annexation by the German Reich. I can’t imagine the fear and rumors and degradations and deprivations my father and millions of others endured.
But then, I can’t imagine living in Syria or Iran or Lebanon or Congo or any number of other places where terror like that can and does strike at any moment, where everything that has been normal about life is torn away and survival becomes your only goal. What difference does heaven or resurrection make when you’re living in hell?
And I think: If I have the opportunity to reflect on that question, I am called to be part of the solution. I am called to look up from my “first world problems” and help intervene in situations before they turn deadly, or be present with survivors if the horror has already come. It means I can’t look away – I have to turn toward the frightful and the frightened. I don’t have to address every situation – only the ones the Spirit leads me to. But I do not have the leisure to look away.
Where in the world are you being called to intervene – through prayer, donation, advocacy, action?
Where in our cities are you being called to intervene? Where in your community are you called to intervene?
It might be with domestic violence organizations, or human rights groups – Amnesty International, The International Rescue Committee, United to End Genocide.
What will you do with the resurrection life running through you, in a world full of death?
A few weeks ago, I attended a statewide meeting on reducing violence, and was privileged to hear Emmanuel Jal speak. Jal is a young man from South Sudan, whose world was turned upside down by the savage conflict there. His mother was killed when he was seven, and he joined thousands of children fleeing to Ethiopia. He was conscripted into military service, inflicted and suffered atrocities. "I didn't have a life as a child,” he says. “In five years as a fighting boy, what was in my heart was to kill as many Muslims as possible.” Eventually he was rescued and taken to Kenya, began school and ultimately a hip-hop music career that has made him internationally known. He has launched the We Want Peace genocide-prevention campaign, among many other advocacy and aid projects.
He is an amazing young man, who has come through a living hell. He reminds me that resurrection life is real, very real.
No comments:
Post a Comment