At our writers’ group last night we were talking and lamenting a bit the trials of the last year. One person said it’s like humanity with all it’s flaws and failings was put in a giant pressure cooker and yet were surprised at what burst out. We’ve seen some of the worst of ourselves in the last year and it reminds me yet again of how truly broken we are.
I’ve struggled with feelings of grief, loss, and powerlessness. I feel unmoored from the people and places that usually hold me fast. For the first time, I find myself wondering if this will be the one we won’t survive. So much has been lost that can never be regained. It feels as though we’ve seen things we can’t unsee and learned things we can’t unknown. The weight of the brokenness is crushing.
And yet, if I believe what I say I believe, I have to know that when all of this world is burned away, when the worst of humanity rises up in each of us and seems to be winning, when all hope at human solutions to the problems of this mortal existence has been exhausted, the cross will stand.
I may not survive this.
My family may not.
My church may not, as it is now or in any form at all.
My pastor and elders may not.
My city may burn to ashes.
My nation may be brought to its knees.
All that I claim to hold dear in this material world may be swept away.
But the cross will stand.
If I believe what I say I believe, I must find peace in this.
When the last year has brought me more doubt than certainty and in a world of black and white I find myself so often in the gray margins. A culture that demands absolutes and ultimatums in all things and I find myself craving nuance. We have left no room for process and style, giftings and calling. It is all hands on deck and the ever-changing winds of culture and media set the course.
My own mind and arms and words are not strong enough to carry this burden and I find myself bent double, and I fear, shattered by it.
Then I remember the words of a favorite song
“When Satan tempts me to despair
and tells me of the guilt within.
Upward I look and see him there.
Who made an end to all my sin.”
Not just my sin and my failings but those of all who call his name. The world itself will be redeemed and what we experience now are groanings of that recognition of need. We need not be burned alive but purified and when it feels as though we can stand it no longer, the best will be brought to the surface.
Even in my own brokenness, I can find the deepest peace. Because the cross will stand.
The worst of life now comes to light,
and everybody sees
the falling of the endless night
of the Pharisees
who would not, could not recognize
the Messiah in their midst,
and with hard-shut-tear-less eyes
decided to resist
the things the prophets once had said,
the things their fathers taught,
and so they got it in their heads
that they really ought
to kill instead of being awed
by their now-incarnate God.