Too near the cross for comfort

Mamma said there'd be days like this..

The Shirelles sang well.

This month I spent three weeks traversing Eastern Washington and Oregon visiting my mother in intensive care after a surprise late night diabetic reaction nearly claimed her life, and then just as nearly claimed her personality. While she was unresponsive for several days, I made a quick round trip back home to bury a woman just her age, then a week later unplugged life support on a rowdy, fun loving three year old who's body lost a quick bloody knuckles game with E-Coli.. then a few days later his great grandpa lost the same game, and we buried them on Thursday and Friday, bippity, boppity boop. June.

Mamma said there'd be days like this, there'd be days like this my mamma said...

Tears will be close for months, I think. These things make me tender in a way no movie can match. And they make me feisty. I have real questions for God about justice and mercy, when cute little three year old boys die. I have questions that wail with the bereaved mother at 2AM in the hallway of Doernbecher's Children's Hospital as the doctors, hospital administrator and counselors wish to gather us for a family meeting, and they are so relieved to see me, the calm pastor in his soothing clerical collar present to ease the scene, as Mamma wails, "I can't go in there, I know what they're going to say; nooooooooo!" And I feel anything but calm and soothed inside with my breaking heart pounding with love for this family and also desperately aware of my own child, sleeping at home an hour and a half away... Questions, God.. Questions.

Don't let them start, for they spiral - one on top of another, growing, racing, connecting, accusing, into a vortex of dissatisfaction.

Or maybe let them go - for they spiral - one on top of another, growing, racing connecting, accusing, into a cruciform paradox.

"Hey," says the voice at the other end of my lament.

"I lost my son too; Hurts doesn't it?"

God showed Job all of creation, and he told him he was right to complain about losing his whole family.

Job's friends were wrong to blame the victim. They get rebuked.

Job gets eyes to see, and his mind can't take it.

God shows me the cross and lets me wail with the women.

My eyes see Jesus, dying with Dominic, and my mind can't take it. "He's mine," says the Lord, pulling him through the cross into eternity, "you said as much when you baptized him."

But he was ours too, and we're not done with him! . . . And maybe when you get close enough to the cross to wail with the women, it's gonna be hard to see beyond the pain.

Tonight I believe that it's easier to be a theologian than a disciple. Theologians get vexed by paradox- and while this can be a very maddening experience, it is still sterile and remote. Theologians see God in words and concepts, in books and diagrams. Disciples get biotoxins, uncleanness and bodily fluids on their hands- experiences that are neither sterile nor remote. Disciples see God in three year olds with tubes draining (and supplying) normal and improvised orifices. Disciples touch, wipe tears, hold, hug and smell. And we discover that God weeps too.

Maybe I wouldn't trade June away. I liked being that near the cross, even if it left me tender. Something holy happened there...

And maybe tenderness is desirable?

Mamma said there'd be days like this, there'd be days like this my mamma said.

Peace.

Denial is the first stage

Sometimes God speaks outside of scripture; sometimes God laments in newsprint.

The local paper tells me that that our local district will work with 1.2 million less dollars this next year, as our student population gently grows. Did your paper say something similar?

In response to Oregon’s state budget curse, local schools are cutting 11 jobs in a heroic effort to reduce their budget by 3.5%. Last year our impoverished district made big cuts. Now we are cutting more.

3.5% cuts equals 3.5% less teaching capacity. When you fire janitors, teachers must do the mopping. When you fire administrators, teachers must do the administration. To be very clear: we’re looking at 3.5% less teaching next year.

We can try to appease ourselves by asserting that the fat is simply being trimmed and that our schools and teachers will be more highly motivated next year.. with 3.5% less.

We can try to appease ourselves.

People who are not familiar with educating today’s American youth make these appeasing claims;
People who want to believe that all students come to school equally ready to learn from safe, comfortable, balanced homes like their own make these claims;
People who try valiantly to expose the waste in the system and who don’t want to waste any of their hard earned money on schools make these claims.
People who don’t want to waste their money on kids make these claims.

Kids.

People who don’t know make these claims.

Denial is the first stage of grief, then comes anger, then bargaining, then depression, then acceptance.

The local paper tells me that the school board voted unanimously to cut these eleven jobs in the fall. I know these people on the school board – and I know that many of them have kids in these schools that will now have 3.5% less teaching capacity. What a wretched choice we have forced them into! How long will they volunteer to serve?

These schoolboard members need our praise, our prayers and our support. They also need to hear our contrition (that means feeling sorry for what we have done.) We’ve pickled them with our public policy and hung them out for public abuse with a no-win forced play. Shame on us.

3.5% less for our kids, and nearly every household in town has two or more cell phones, two or more cars, cable TV, internet, green lawns, and a pantry full of expensive, pre-packaged junkfood- And no money to spare for education. 3.5% less for our kids. . . and the list can easily go on!.

3.5% less. Denial is the first stage of grief, then comes anger, then bargaining, then depression, then acceptance.

Maybe we’re at acceptance, but I hope not- I’m (edited)!

Okay, okay. Does God speak, as I began the post, in newsprint- and if so, how?

God (of scripture) has an unashamed love affair with the children, the weak, the alien who recently moved to town, the unhealed, and the powerless. God (of scripture) twice crashed the kingdoms of God's people when they didn't share God's love with these groups because God (of scripture) can't stand having God's name being associated with societal injustice. (Check Luke 2:46-55 for a quick synopsis of Isaiah and the prophets)

God (of scripture) may not be who many voters know; it's been true for thousands of years.

When the children suffer because the parents are intoxicated with wealth and power, clouds often gather in Heaven.

Denial is the first stage.