"To dream the impossible dream, to fight the unbeatable foe, to bear when your arms are too weary, to run where the brave dare not go." Not all of us are like the man from La Mancha, Don Quixote, the righter of unrightable wrongs, the nobleman who loves pure and chaste from afar. But at some level, at some time in our lives, all of us have known a noble dream. All of us have longed for the purity of heart which is "to will one thing" and seek its attainment with every fiber of our being, every ounce of our strength.
The men who followed Jesus were like that--if not Don Quixotes, than perhaps Sancho Panzas: who gave heart and soul to the teacher whose spirit drew them out of their eye-blinders, whats-in-it-for-me? nearsightedness. Their initial attraction to Jesus was that of a moth to a flame--instinctive, but devoid of understanding. Only after his death, as the light of Easter dawned in their hearts, did the Way of their Master finally light fires of passion that still sparkle amid the wintry landscapes of human fatigue and frustration.
Facing an unpredictable future, we who are at once knowing and unknowing, visionary one moment and blinded the next, want predictability. We want to believe the stockmarket will always go up, that our profit will never be less than 10% and often twice that much. We want to be assured that winters will be mild, summers will be breezy, that spring will be early and fall will last forever. We want to belong to a church where much is offered, little expected, attendance is always growing, and everybody else is so committed that all we have to do is attend. We want an eloquent, nurturing pastor, the city's finest musicians, and people of means to pay the bills. But we also want to be a "real" church with no distinctions of class, age, ability, orientation, or ethnicity. We want to be on the cutting edge without getting cut. We want to be "hip" without stretching beyond the confines of tradition. We want to have our cake and eat it too. We are more like Jesus' disciples than we know!
But most of all, we want assurance that we are following the right path. In an insecure world, filled with upsetting realities that occasionally touch the spaces of our own existence, we want to know that someone is in control, that God is present and cares. When we hear of fighting in Israel, threats of nuclear terrorism, airplane crashes, earthquakes, and tensions in Iraq we naturally ask the question: Is God really on the job? Can we trust God's purposes? When will the weather clear, so we can see what God is doing? To questions like these Jesus gives a rather simple answer: "Be not afraid."
"Don't get all shook up!" Jesus tells us that all the danger and discomfort we face in our lives is merely the prelude to the emergence of new life. God's end is not negation, but "the living end." War and conflict have been around a long time, and will always be frightening, but they have no last word. Only God does. I don't know why the earth's tectonic plates shift around, causing earthquakes. I don't know why tribes and peoples collide, erupting as human volcanos. I don't know why the weather is so unpredictable, giving us bumper crops one year and famine the next. I don't know why people ignore their neighbors' need, or why they risk themselves to save life and seek justice. But I think I do understand the point Jesus is making: THE WAY WE RESPOND TO DANGER AND DISCOMFORT, THE WAY WE RESPOND TO EARTHQUAKE AND FAMINE, IS A REFLECTION OF OUR FAITH IN GOD. IF WE BELIEVE THAT GOD CAN MAKE THESE DIFFICULT SITUATIONS INTO THE BIRTHPLACE OF NEW LIFE AND HOPE, WE ARE ALREADY LIVING INTO THE NEW AGE.
Hang in there! If you think times are tough today, tomorrow may be worse. But that is not the end. "Beware that no one leads you astray." We are never without our doomsday prophets, our nihilist directors of suicide. The fact of our eventual death makes every day of living the more precious.
I heard one time about a farmer who'd been diagnosed with cancer. His doctor gave him less than a year to live. Soon the man began selling off his livestock, and closed down his farm. Five years later, still very much alive, he began thinking about buying a new cattle herd.
In our personal lives, let alone in world history, we have no idea what tomorrow may bring. What we put into each day of life makes all the difference. How can we lose if we remember what our Lord asks: that we seek justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with our God?
After all the wars are fought, and all the earthquakes--both geologic and political--have done their worst, God's "end" is still to come. In the original Greek, the word for "end" is "telos" meaning goal or fulfillment. God's end is our peace, our atonement or at-one-ment with the Divine Love. Now are the birthpangs.
When a woman feels labor contractions she is often very uncomfortable. But she can take comfort in one thing: new life is on the way. Amid our discomfort with the way things are, God is already creating new life and a new reality. Our birthpangs are productive. When we cry out in prayers of compassion, when we long for justice, when we mourn the tragedy of human cruelty, we are already blessed and blessing. Our cries are the birthpangs of hope for God's continuing Creation, God's masterpiece. Amen.
