The Loneliness of the Soul

Lately, I've felt lonely, like I'm pulling myself through a desert, parched and wanting. The irony of this loneliness? It's there, even when I'm surrounded by a crowd or with someone who cares for me. My heart echoes into a solitary darkness even then.

This experience has sent me into contemplation of a type of loneliness we don't mention much. I've named it "the loneliness of the soul." Someone recently reminded me of the character I most identify with in The Lord of the Rings--Frodo. Throughout the story, Frodo carries a heavy burden in the form of a ring, and the farther he carries it, the weaker he becomes. The following quote from Frodo in the third movie hit me like a gut punch: "I can't recall the taste of food, nor the sound of water, nor the touch of grass. Instead I'm naked in the dark. There's nothing. No veil between me and the wheel of fire! I can see him with my waking eyes!" Frodo is with Sam, his most loyal friend in the world, and still, he's alone, naked in the dark, because the war resides in his soul.

Our world abhors loneliness. It's almost a crime to be lonely or admit you feel lonely. We're supposed to be happy, community driven people, and to confess you still feel empty, well, that brings a thud down on the party. I think it's even more anathema in Christian circles. You have Jesus with you so how could you ever feel lonely?

I decided to see if there were people in the Bible who felt lonely. Here are a few I found:

-In Genesis 29, Leah is lonely. She is unloved by her husband even when she has baby boy after baby boy for him. She longs for his love but she cannot get it.

-In 1 Kings 17, Elijah is alone in the wilderness, feeling like the only one left who stands up for the Lord.

-In Psalm 142, David feels that no one notices him, that no one cares for his soul, that he has no refuge.

-In 2 Timothy 4, Paul felt deserted during his imprisonment.

-Even Jesus felt alone, crying out in Matthew 27, "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?"

Each of these people were not actually alone as we usually define the word. Leah was surrounded by an entire camp. God told Elijah there were other people following Him. Jonathan was David's closest friend and supporter. Luke was with Paul. Even some of Jesus' friends stood at the foot of the cross near him. So why did they feel lonely?

There's a loneliness that comes from the distress of the soul, when the soul feels empty and void. Why does it feel this way? Because as much as we may not be alone physically, no one else is able to feel exactly what we feel. No one else can walk in our soul. We feel the pain, suffer the darkness, crack because of the thirst. As much as people care for us, they do none of these with us. We suffer internally, and as such, we suffer alone. This is the loneliness of the soul. In more modern terms, it might look something like the following:

-An ex-wife feels lonely after her divorce, losing love, tenderness, and trust.

-A teenager feels lonely when depression and self-worth overshadow difficult years.

-A mother feels lonely when her child rebels and denies the sacrifices she has poured out day after day.

-A father feels lonely when his only child dies, and he passes an empty bedroom every morning.

And so on. Trauma and grief are a path walked in the inner man and we walk alone.

So how do we make it through?

Each of the Bible characters mentioned previously found an answer in their God. Leah praised the Lord. Elijah heard the whisper of God's voice. David cried out to God in prayer. Paul recognized God stood at his side. Jesus committed his spirit to the Lord.

First, like our Biblical examples, we must put our souls in the hands of our God. We must recognize that although we feel the loneliness of our soul, the Holy Spirit is there within. God knows what it is to face the loneliness of the soul. He understands our pain. He listens and hears our cries.

What of the people in our lives who reach out to care for us? What can they do even if the loneliness persists in their presence? I think in reality, they don't need to say very much at all--they simply need to be there. When Frodo felt the overwhelming darkness of his burden, what did Sam do? He picked Frodo up. He carried Frodo when his friend couldn't take another step. He was there. I think that more than anything makes all the difference. Be there for those lonely in soul. Listen to them. Pray for them. Carry them when they can't carry themselves.

I'm lonely in my soul. There is grief and trauma and pain that is making itself particularly known right now. My loneliness isn't a sin; it's a consequence of a broken world. Instead of pretending loneliness away, covering it with a smile and the pretense of being happy, I think we'll heal faster if we admit it, become vulnerable, and tell others we feel "naked in the dark." And then... Redirect to Jesus. Ask for prayer. Listen to the counsel of the Spirit. And let others carry you when the burden of your lonely soul is too much for you to bear.

Matthew's Box

 
Recently I've fallen in love with a TV show called The Chosen. If you haven't been made aware of its existence, I highly recommend it. The show relates the story of the gospels from the perspective of those chosen by Jesus. It's a unique take. Usually series or movies that focus on Jesus do so mainly from his point of view. Few that I have previously seen attempt more than a cursory glance at the backgrounds of the people surrounding Jesus, and those that have often stray far from the biblical canon.

The Chosen, on the other hand, sticks close to the biblical canon, imagining background details that are probable, and so doing, fleshes out the experiences of the people who walked with Jesus. Peter comes off as impulsive, extroverted, a go-getter in over his head. That definitely fits what we know of him from scripture. Andrew is immediately captivated by the Messiah. This squares with the Bible's record as well. Mary Magdalene overflows with love and gratitude for the man who released her from torment. Thomas, the doubter, already finds himself overwhelmed with indecision. Nicodemus seeks out the new teacher in Galilee, desperate for answers to stirring questions. Every character in the show is carefully crafted and honestly approached. And then there is Matthew...

I started watching The Chosen expecting characters like Mary and Peter and Nicodemus to exhibit the characteristics they did. I was overjoyed to view a production that handled them so well and then some. What I didn't expect was my favorite character in the series to be the tax collector who's personal story in the gospels is relegated to one singular event.

Who was Matthew? We know he was a tax collector and not well liked by his community. He was part of the group the Pharisees despised when they questioned Jesus eating with "tax collectors and sinners." His choice of career was a betrayal in the eyes of many as the man took their money and gave it to Rome. That's about all we know about Matthew, and I had never pondered beyond these details. Then The Chosen came along and set my mind spinning.

Much of Matthew's character in the show relates to his profession. He's good with numbers and record keeping. The Chosen interpreted the character as so talented with calculations, he falls somewhere on the autism spectrum, not entirely socially aware and caught up in his own mathematical world. He's also fastidious and a bit of a dirt-o-phobe. This avoidance of filth is made all the easier because of his wealth. He's served Rome well and is reaping his rewards. He's hated, but that doesn't stop him from doing his job. How in the world would a man like this end up a disciple?

For a man that has calculated his entire life, who has achieved his goals through logical mathematics, Jesus is a conundrum. When Matthew observes Peter's miraculous catch of fish at his calling and witnesses the paralytic rise and walk, his entire world is shaken. Everything had found a place in his mental box, tallied and computed by his talented mind. But miracles? Those shouldn't happen. They don't make any sense, and their existence torments Matthew, making him question all he's based his life on.

I found myself on the edge of my seat watching The Chosen, eagerly awaiting the day Jesus would pass by Matthew's booth and utter those two inevitable words: "Follow me." When the moment arrived, my wide smile practically leaped off my face. I watched this man throw all his achievements away in a moment, drop everything, and follow the Messiah who had blown his ordered and perfect world to smithereens.

I think what struck me more than anything was how presenting this character this way challenged so many people's conceptions of Jesus. Many cannot abide anything that doesn't fit within their mentally constructed boxes. Logic, reason, order. Nothing is allowed to burst the seams of this box. So if it does, then it is summarily rejected.

The irony is that what Matthew chose to do is utterly rooted in logic and reason. He had seen. Even when others challenged him, trying to convince him he'd been tricked, he knew he hadn't. He couldn't deny what his eyes beheld, what his evidence added up to. So when Jesus calls him, it's only logical to follow the one who can call up miracles with simply his word.

Why do I follow Jesus? My faith isn't blind. It's based on evidences such as the world's design, historical records, archaeological discoveries, biblical consistency. But it's even more than these. If I limited God to these tangible proofs, I'd be missing out. God surpasses these with miracle and spiritual transformation. He shatters my box, making my choice clear: either scramble to put the pieces back together or step beyond the borders to possibility.

What is your box? What things have you told yourself don't fit inside? If you've allowed God in, have you attempted to lock him up to meet your expectations?

I have a suspicion that just like Matthew in The Chosen, we all have boxes. Maybe it's personal logic and reason. Maybe it's the plan I had for my life. Maybe it's no disturbance, smooth sailing, only positive experiences. But if it's one thing I know from the Bible, from the gospels, it's that God isn't in the habit of squishing himself into our boxes. He rips them right open. And when he does, we can assure he's waiting right outside, hand outstretched, ready to speak a simple command: "Follow me."

If we do, we might just be surprised what deep abiding satisfaction we'll find.

Advent: Hope

A voice calls aloud,
Declaring His coming.
Victory for God,
Expunging the darkness.
Now is the day,
Time bows to His will.

Heaven
Offers
People
Eternity

Did Mary Know? Yes and No and Maybe

I've run across a bit of criticism of the song "Mary, Did You Know?" this Christmas, mainly asserting that Mary did know everything the song asks, so the questions in it are silly. This caused me to seriously ask, "Did Mary know?" In doing so, I discovered the answers aren't as black and white as we'd like them to be.

First off, we must start with the context of the song. Our human tendency is to forgo context and interpret things we read or hear without it, but this approach often leads to erroneous assumptions. Context is essential to determining the meaning of something. If we take a look at the lyrics of "Mary, Did You Know?" we observe the song never answers its questions. So on the surface, we don't know if the song means to answer "yes" or "no," even though many seem to assume the song's answer is "no."

In considering the context of the song, we must also consider its author, who wrote the song and is the source of its meaning. I found, in fact, that Mark Lowry didn't pen the questions assuming an answer of "no" to all the questions. Here's what he's said:

"In a conversation with my mother, I remember she said, ‘If anyone on earth knew for sure that Jesus was virgin born - Mary knew!’ That was a profound statement that stuck with me. One thing they couldn’t take from Mary was that she knew her Child was not ordinary. At the cross on Mount Calvary, while Jesus was dying, her silence was a great testimony to the fact of who he was and is. He said to them, ‘When you have seen me, you have seen the Father.’ Of course, for this they nailed him to a cross, and his mother never said a word."

For Lowry, he wasn't inspired by what Mary didn't know, but what she did know. She did perceive some of the profound implications about the baby she had born. He goes on to say that he started to think of questions he would have liked to sit down and ask Mary, to talk to her about what she understood.

So did Mary know? It turns out the answers to the song's questions aren't across the board "yes" or "no." Let's take a look at them.

"Did you know that your baby boy will one day walk on water? Did you know that your baby boy will give sight to a blind man? Did you know that your baby boy will calm a storm with His hand? The blind will see, the deaf will hear, the dead will live again. The lame will leap, the dumb will speak." As far as we know, Mary wasn't given specifics about each miracle Jesus would perform, but did she know that he would perform miracles? It's likely she knew he would work miracles, but as the questions in the song are specific, it's unlikely she knew the exact miracles he would perform. The answer could be "No, she didn't know the exact nature of all his miracles" or "Yes, she probably had some idea he'd perform miracles."

"Did you know that your baby boy will save our sons and daughters?" Yes, she knew this from Simeon when Jesus was presented at the temple if not before. Though we don't know she understood the how.

"Did you know that your baby boy has come to make you new? Did you know that your baby boy is heaven's perfect lamb?" Maybe. Once again, we are never told biblically if she understood the exact nature of the how.

"Did you know that your baby boy has walked where angels trod? You've kissed the face of God. Did you know that your baby boy is Lord of all creation? The sleeping child you're holding is the great I Am." If Mary understood all the implications of what Gabriel told her, then yes, she understood these things. Did she comprehend in every way the enormity of who Jesus was? Perhaps. We aren't told how deeply she understood.

"Did you know that your baby boy will one day rule the nations?" This one is quite interesting to me because in Mary's day many thought the Messiah would be a conqueror to defeat their oppressors. Did Mary know that Jesus wouldn't rule the nations right then, but in the future he would return to rule? Once again, we aren't told exactly what she thought.

I really like this song because I, like Lowry, would love to sit down with Mary and ask these questions, to hear her say, "I understood this and this. I had a feeling he'd do this and I was sure he'd do this. This never crossed my mind and I was so surprised when he did this." And even deeper, "Here's how I felt about everything my son and savior did."

In conclusion, this song does not deserve the criticism that has been leveled at it. It isn't as straight forward as it seems and it isn't telling us Mary knew nothing about Jesus. It asks us to consider Mary and ponder what she knew and how much she knew. And above all, it reminds us that we do know. We look at the babe in the manger at Christmas and we remember the God man, the miracle worker, the Savior, the one who will return to rule. That is the profound meaning in the song that can strike the heart of all of us.

Emmanuel: A Poem for Strength

Emmanuel.
God with us.
In the haze of brokenness
In the chokehold of hurt
Emmanuel.

Emmanuel.
God with us.
When the death announcement comes
When a loved one passes
Emmanuel.

Emmanuel.
God with us.
When the divorce papers arrive
When a marriage dissolves
Emmanuel.

Emmanuel.
God with us.
When the prodigal runs
When a wanderer never returns
Emmanuel.

Emmanuel.
God with us.
When the diagnosis terrifies
When a body weakens
Emmanuel.

Emmanuel.
God with us.
When the boss beckons
When a job fails
Emmanuel.

Emmanuel.
God with us.
Bearing the burdens
Shouldering the pain
Emmanuel.

Emmanuel.
God with us.
Ever present
Endless love
Emmanuel.

What Color Is Jesus?

"For God so loved the world

that he gave his one and only son

that whoever believes in him should not perish

but have eternal life."

John 3:16

One of my favorite Christmas songs is rarely heard these days, but I have always been touched by its meaning, and I'm afraid it isn't PC. Today's culture in America is hyper aware of the differences between races and colors of people. There are some valid reasons for this. At the same time, it seems we are so focused on differences that we often forget vital similarities.

In the Christian realm, especially at Christmas and Easter, we hear complaints that Jesus shouldn't ever be portrayed as white. To be more specific, as a Western European looking Jesus. Culturally and racially, Jesus was a middle eastern Jew. He probably had dark hair and brown eyes and skin tanned and roughened from work and exposure to the elements. But you know what? It doesn't bother me if artists depict Jesus as Western European.

That last statement will come as a shock to some people. Our culture has trained us to be upset about saying things like that. I'd like to explain why it doesn't bother me, and I'd like to do it by using that favorite song I mentioned in the first paragraph.

The song is an old one called "Some Children See Him," and its lyrics are as follows:

Some children see Him lily white,
The baby Jesus born this night.
Some children see Him lily white,
With tresses soft and fair.
Some children see Him bronzed and brown,
The Lord of heav'n to earth come down.
Some children see Him bronzed and brown,
With dark and heavy hair.

Some children see Him almond-eyed,
This Savior whom we kneel beside.
Some children see Him almond-eyed,
With skin of yellow hue.
Some children see Him dark as they,
Sweet Mary's Son to whom we pray.
Some children see him dark as they,
And, ah! they love Him, too!

The children in each different place
Will see the baby Jesus' face
Like theirs, but bright with heavenly grace,
And filled with holy light.
O lay aside each earthly thing
And with thy heart as offering,
Come worship now the infant King.
'Tis love that's born tonight!

The point of this beautiful song is that children all over the world see Jesus as they are. He is like them, but even more. He reaches out to them with his heavenly grace. Jesus, the song asserts, is love for us all.

That's why I don't mind art that presents Jesus in different hues. My favorite Christian artist is Indian. In all his paintings the people look Indian, and this is no surprise considering he himself is Indian and draws upon his culture in his paintings. And yet, his imagery and symbolism is still breathtaking to me. The fact that he depicts the figures as Indian does not take away the truths inherent. To me, it adds to them. Jesus is for Indians as much as he is for anyone.

I have several Chinese paper cuts from when I lived in China that represent various Bible stories. In all of them, Jesus looks Chinese. Does this bother me? No, because once again it is an expression of Jesus as born for all, saving all.

I adore expressions of Jesus from various cultures, including Western Europe, because Jesus is not owned by one culture. Jesus came for everyone. "Some Children See Him" expresses this truth beautifully. It's love that's born tonight, love for every race and every culture, and no matter how we see Jesus in our minds, he is born for us.

Jesus looked like a middle eastern Jew, and we can guess at specifics, but in truth, the Bible doesn't reveal anything about Jesus' physical attributes while he dwelt among us in the first century AD. On the other hand, we are given a description of Jesus when he appeared to the disciple John in a vision:

"[I]n the middle of the lampstands I saw one like a son of man, clothed in a robe reaching to the feet, and girded across His chest with a golden sash. His head and His hair were white like white wool, like snow; and His eyes were like a flame of fire. His feet were like burnished bronze, when it has been made to glow in a furnace, and His voice was like the sound of many waters. In His right hand He held seven stars, and out of His mouth came a sharp two-edged sword; and His face was like the sun shining in its strength." Revelation 1:13-16

It is interesting to me that some get upset about the depiction of Jesus when Jesus clearly is going to return his own unique brand of color. He will be the perfection of man and the power of the divine in one. We will bow before him, awed by our Savior in all his might and glory. He will not be defined by one culture or race. He will be salvation and love for every man.

And for this reason, when it comes to Christmas, when it comes to Jesus, I appreciate Jesus in all colors and races. It reminds me of the truth: Jesus is not reserved for one nation or people, but is available to the entire world if they would hear his voice and follow him. And that brings me the greatest joy this time of year and always!

George Bailey Christians

It's a Wonderful Life is my favorite movie. You've probably seen this popular holiday classic and know George Bailey is its hero. The trouble is, he doesn't know it for most of the movie.

You see, George spends most of his life hoping to get out of his small hometown of Bedford Falls and as he tells his father, "do something big and something important." Unfortunately, life keeps throwing George curve balls. His father dies and he doesn't go to college so he can run his father's Building and Loan, a business needed in Bedford Falls so people don't have to live in the slums of rich Mr. Potter. He gives his college money to his brother Harry, waiting for Harry to come back and take over the Building and Loan. Instead, Harry gets married and his wife's father offers him a job, a good one George knows his brother should take. Then George gets married, misses out on his honeymoon to save the Building and Loan, and ends up even more tied to "this crummy little town." Finally, after all this, and a world war he can't fight in because he has a health issue, his world comes crashing down when he is accused of embezzling from the Building and Loan by a devious Mr. Potter.

George has experienced some good times, but from his point of view, life's been mostly bad. He's failed at everything he wanted to do. He hasn't done anything big or important. His life is one disappointment after another. At his wit's end, he decides to kill himself.

If you've seen the movie, you know our hero is in for a surprise. Clarence shows up, an angel who wants to help George see the value of his life. When George says it would have been better if he hadn't been born, Clarence gives him the gift of seeing what life would have been like without him.

It isn't pretty. Turns out George had more influence in the lives of people around him than he knew. His younger brother died at the age of 9 because George wasn't there to save him from drowning. This means the men Harry saved as a pilot in World War II died as well. Mr. Gower the pharmacist ended up a prisoner and broken man when George didn't stop him from putting poison in a medicine bottle. His mother is old and bitter, her son and husband long dead. Mr. Martini, Ernie, and countless others live in slums because the building and loan closed up when George's father died. Mr. Potter has turned the town into a cesspool.

It's here that Clarence utters one of my favorite lines: "Strange, isn't it? Each man's life touches so many other lives. When he isn't around he leaves an awful hole, doesn't he?" George has left a hole. He never understood how every person he met was affected by him, how a life in a little town actually did matter.

Clarence's conclusion is "You see, George, you've really had a wonderful life. Don't you see what a mistake it would be to throw it away?"

In America, in much of the Western World, there is a focus on doing something "big and important." We have the mind of George Bailey. We laud those who seem to do the big things, who get famous and noticed. Then we compare ourselves and well, we don't measure up. Our life is so...small.

Christians fall into this trap. They imagine something big they will do for God--be a missionary, start a humanitarian organization, build orphanages in a needy place, bring hundreds of people to Christ, lead a church. They feel guilty when someone tells them if they really lived a Christian life, they'd do something big for God, they'd follow the dreams "God has given them."

Here's the problem--most Christians are George Bailey. Life has played out for them in unexpected ways. They're stuck by circumstances. What they thought would happen didn't. They aren't a hero; they're just an "ordinary yokel."

If you believe this, you believe a lie. You are a George Bailey, Christian, but you aren't an "ordinary yokel." You are George because "your life touches so many others." Your life has done something "big and important" even if it doesn't look that way to the world. Every day you live, every day you cling to Christ, every moment you do an act of kindness, you have done something important.

In the end of It's a Wonderful Life, George is saved by his friends who recognize all he has done for them. His brother Harry gives a toast "to my big brother George: The richest man in town." It's no coincidence Harry calls George his "big" brother. It means more than age; it means George is actually as big as he wanted to be. In fact, he's rich, because he has used his life to touch the people around him. He's given of himself, his time, and his heart. He did it in a "crummy little town" and his friends couldn't be more grateful.

Christian, you may think your life is nothing. You may see what others do and think because of how your life has worked out, you've done nothing. This is not true. Your life has touched so many. If you were to leave, a gaping hole would remain behind. Never believe the lie your life is a throwaway. Your purpose from God is wherever you are. Forget the shouts of big and let God use you now.