wrangling with God when things aren't so good

by Kari Henkelmann Keyl

Are we really allowed to argue with God? Isn’t there something stupid or dangerous about fighting with the Highest Power?

And what about talking back to Jesus? Sounds sacrilegious, but I know someone who had the guts to do it.

Last night at Bread for your Journey, by the way’s weekly gathering, we talked about ideas of God that we grew up with. And none of us felt we had “permission” to wrangle with God. Talking, pleading, thanking… those are ok. But no fighting with the One who knows what’s best for you.

I think that turned out not so good for me to be taught that. When I was turning teen, I started fighting with my Sunday School teachers, and they didn’t like that. I questioned what they taught and what the Bible said, and my teachers made it seem like arguing with them (and with the Bible) was equivalent to cutting down God. That was the beginning of the end for me: the end of my simplified and stilted belief system, but the beginning of a deeper faith in God.

Go ahead and take a look now at the reflections and prayers that led into our discussion, and see where your thoughts take you. Please keep in mind that this blog can be a place where you get to air your opinions, too. There are no rules about not wrangling here, that’s for sure.

http://breadforyourjourney.blogspot.com/

So here’s this brazen woman who dares to spar with Jesus. Some look at this passage and wonder at the quite insulting words of Jesus, usually the compassionate one in the room. But I see a Jesus with a sparkle in his eye. He can see in the eyes of this woman that she’s got some fight and some wit in her. And he gives her the opportunity to show the snoopy people peeking in exactly what she’s made of. In a time when women weren’t viewed with much respect, certainly not in the intellect department, this little conversation in the book of Mark is pretty amazing.

Jesus had been trying to get some peace and quiet when this pleading person came in. He could have just healed her daughter and dismissed her. Instead he chose to engage her. And faith (that is: relationship) is the result. What could have been just a healing (which only lasts until the next germ or demon comes along), became an opportunity for a faith relationship which would likely last for all of eternity.

Then we have our Simon and Garfunkel song, Blessed. Not your usual poetry for holy conversation, you might say. But actually it fits in quite well with the Biblical poetry we call lament. So many of the psalms are like this. My wounds trickle down like a wound that I have no intention to heal. This poet is not budging. He’s going to stay in woundedness, questioning God, for a while.

And that’s ok. Sometimes that’s what we need. To sit in the muck for a while and get it all out. Someone holds out a hand to help get you out. You’re not ready.

But what then? There comes a time when you realize that hand held out might as well be God’s hand. And God invites you to come out of your dead place, not back to where you were before, but to a new place of faith. A deeper, more experienced faith. Having been through this suffering, you have a new “authority” (see the third reflection), a new way to author life in yourself and in others.

There may be times when you need to go back to that lament place and just be sad and mad. Or just be nothing, numb… for a while. And when you’re ready to take the hand again, this time the hand is giving you something to eat… a chunk of bread, warm and tasty, washed down with a swig of sweet wine.

Every Thursday night at the Crowne Jesus is there feeding us. It doesn’t matter how many people come. Jesus is powerfully there. No matter what my week has been like, I am fed. And then I have the awesome opportunity to share that good stuff, as best I can, with readers like you who might not have been able to come. I hope I’ve been able to “author” some life, some hope, in you. But if not, please feel free to wrangle all you need.