Gall Bladder Attack & Eating Wings

I have pondered long and hard the question of why people turn to God.  I suppose the questions first appeared when I was studying within Clinical Pastoral Education, assigned to the Heart Center, where I had the privilege of ministering to patients, their loved ones, friends, and medical staff, alike.   

Although I found that the problem of pain may be one of the greatest challenges to faith in God, I dare suggest that it is the problem of pleasure that more often drives a person to think of spiritual things. Sexuality, greed, fame, and momentary thrills are actually the most precarious attractions in the world. Pain forces me and most, I’ve encountered, to accept personal finitude. I’ve seen it breed cynicism, weariness, and fatigue in just living everyday life.

A few weeks ago, after entering a journal piece, entitled: Suddenly, I was in sudden and horrible pain with a gall bladder attack. That pain sent me immediately in search of a greater power. First, introspection in the recollection of the highly acidic Italian meal I had eaten just two hours previous.  Second, in superstition, of finding immediate homeopathic relief mechanisms; and third in a vow that I would be much more restrained in my choices and amount of food intake. These all came as a result of my pain.

A few days latter I discovered that disappointment in pleasure is a completely different thing when a friend and I went to an “all the wings you can eat” lunch.  Now, while learning that pain can often be seen as a means to a greater end, pleasure in the tasty wings was viewed as an end in itself. That afternoon, back at my shop I discovered that the pleasure had run its course, a sense of despondency was cheeped into my soul, when I begin to think, "man I hope I won't have another attack like the last one. What was I thinking?" I realized that pain was temporary; but disappointment in pleasure gives rise to emptiness—not just for a moment, but for life. Would I ever be able to eat wings, again?  Just a few on fewer occasions? As I sit here thinking about it, the greater lesson is: there can seem to be no reason to life, no preconfigured purpose, along with, even pleasure brings no lasting fulfillment.

My thoughts may change but right now I’m convinced that the intertwining of pain with pleasure is at the root of the human dilemma and at the core of the hungering spirit. I know that when I’m in pain I look for comfort and explanations and have found most people do the same. And when I’m disappointed in pleasure I seem to be looking for purpose. But this is where, I believe, the West has lost its way. In our boredom, we may search for an escape in the strange or the distorted, while God has revealed himself in the person of Jesus Christ.

It’s only in the Judeo-​Christian worldview that every person is understood to be created in God's image, for God himself is a person. Likewise, each person has relational priorities that are implicitly built in, not by nature but by God's design.  I was reminded, last month, during a debate of Republican presidential candidates of the tragedy of the terrorist attack on New York city.  People in that area are deeply embedded in that metropolis. It seems to me each one who still weeps is grieving the loss of their own loved ones but grieving for their personal loss. This is real, I say: it’s not imaginary. I realize I stand before the individual graves of my loved ones more often than I stand before a graveyard in general.

But thin, I think about it a little deeper; there is more. Personhood transcends mere DNA. There is essential worth to each person. In Christianity, the essence of each and every person and the individual reality of each life is sacred. It is sacred because intrinsic value has been given to us by our Creator, who has revealed himself in the starry skies and upon a nail-scarred cross.

The more I reflect on my own life and interact with others, I am more and more fascinated to see the design God has for each person.

It’s about time I respond. The truth is that I have family and friends who in the peak of their success have turned to God, and I have known others, drowning in pain and defeat, who seek God for an answer. Either extreme leaves haunting questions for me.

Father, God show me how to respond to either.  I acknowledge You have created me for Your purpose, and relationship and worship has been built into the design.  Father, I admit that You alone are able to weave a pattern from the disparate threads of my life and fashion a magnificent design.  I stop now and reflect on it.  Bread of Heaven, come and fill my hungering spirit.  Amen.

Thoughts On Crutches and Losers

In his writing of Mere Apologetics, Alister McGrath points out that "one of the most familiar criticisms of Christianity is that it offers consolation to life's losers." It has been my observation over many years that born again believers, especially, are often caricatured as being somewhat weak and naïve or just plain losers. That is, a person like me needs my faith as a "crutch" just to get me through life.  I don’t read much of it, but  I was struck along side of the mind when Dinesh D'Souza mentioned the new atheist format at a forum I attend this past week; I was reminded of an article in Pulse magazine, written some time ago, entitled: Is Christianity Just a Crutch?  Quoting: ". . . . . . . . this depiction is often contrasted with the image of a hardier intellectual atheist who has no need for such infantile, yet comforting, nonsense. This type of portrayal may resonate with some, but does it really make sense?”

Ever since a president of our country used the phrase: "small towns cling to guns and religion,"  I have been slogging through a, seemingly, immense swamp, shotgun over one shoulder and crutch under the other, in coming to grips, looking for a personal offense. I’ve found it helpful, firstly, in defining  what is meant by a "crutch." In a medical setting, the word obviously means an implement used by people for support when they are injured. The analogy implies, therefore, that those who need one are somehow deficient or wounded. In a sense, it is fairly obvious that the most vulnerable might need support, but as the agnostic John Humphrys points out, "Don't we all? Some use booze rather than the Bible."  As this suggests, it is not so much a question of whether I have one, but it is more of a question of what my particular crutch is. I think this is an important point to make, as people rely on all kinds of things for their comfort or self-esteem, ranging from material possessions, money, food, and aesthetics to cigarettes, drugs, alcohol, and sex. It’s been my experience (many of my friends and colleagues have had different experiences and may disagree)  that rather than being viewed as signs of weakness, many of these are even considered to be relatively normal in society, provided they don't turn into the more destructive behavior associated with strong addiction. Nevertheless, many of these only offer a short-term release from the struggles of life and they sometimes only cover up deeper problems that a person might be suffering from. To suggest, therefore, that atheists are somehow stronger than believers is to deny the darker side of humanity, which is only too apparent if we look at the world around us. McGrath explains in Mere Apologetics : "If you have a broken leg, you need a crutch. If you're ill you need medicine. That's just the way things are. The Christian understanding of human nature is that we are damaged, wounded and disabled by sin. That's just the way things are."

Then I discovered where Augustine of Hippo compared the church to a hospital, because it is full of wounded and ill people in the process of being healed. As is the case with any illness, this treatment cannot begin, however, until someone has admitted they are sick or need help. There is plenty of evidence to suggest that religious belief does have an advantageous effect on both mental and physical health. Andrew Sims, former President of the Royal College of Psychiatrists, writes that a "huge volume of research" confirms this, making it "one of the best-kept secrets in psychiatry and medicine generally." In a culture that often seems to exalt health, well-being, and happiness above other things, this would seem to render religious belief very appealing both to the weak and the strong in society.

Again and again, I have heard, personally, believers testify to the transformative effect that becoming a Christian has had on their lives and this can include being delivered from some of the crutches they had previously relied upon. Yet, the idea that coming to faith is somehow either liberating or empowering is, of course, anathema to many people. Christopher Hitchens in his writing of God Is Not Great in 2007, for example, speaks of the totalitarian nature of Christianity that keeps its followers in a state of constant subservience. Now, G. K. Chesterton saw it differently, as he writes in Orthodoxy, suggests that the "dignity of man" and the "smallness of man" was held in perfect tension, allowing people to have a strong sense of self-worth without becoming big-headed.

Yet my greatest find is where God clearly offers much more than this. In 1 Corinthians 12:9 it says, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." The idea of strength flowing from human powerlessness may seem counter-intuitive in today's risk-averse culture, but as Simon Guillebaud points out, "Paradoxically, our waving the white flag of submission to God's right over our lives is the key that unlocks the gate to many future victories in his name." Nevertheless, as C. S. Lewis observed, people will still choose to cling on to their crutches, even though something much better is being offered to them: "We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased."  I found this in the writing of The Weight of Glory and other Addresses.

I’ve conclude that it is helpful to intentionally  reflect on what I am relying on at this stage of my life and what the impact has upon me, my relationship with others and God. I don’t want to miss out on the fullness of life that God offers me, whether I think I need it or not.

Father, God, Almighty,  I thank You for sending Your Son Jesus which You offered upon on the cross not a crutch. It wasn’t a call to be a better person with high self-esteem or a plan to help me scrape through my existence.  It is a call to acknowledge that the forgiveness I seek is to be found in Jesus by following Him onto the cross…It’s because following Him has something to offer me and every other person in every circumstance, regardless of baggage, state of health or emotions, background or intellectual capabilities!  Amen