Category: 2 Corinthians

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Reconciliation: The Need for a Vision-Check

I wish I could see clearly. I have trouble with blurred and double vision, especially when fatigued – I have to take my glasses off to read. Not fun. Not fun at all. I also have trouble with perspective, which often keeps me from seeing clearly as well. But don’t we all? Between my own anxiety and blinders things seem blurry or distorted. Sometimes, we just need a vision-check. My own vision-check came by a fella I nicknamed, Hank.

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Almost six years ago I was hired to preach at a local church in Scioto County. A month into my ministry, Hank hobbled into my office. Time was not kind to him as his well-worn faced aged him. His clothes hung from his frail thin body. Cancer was a major set-back, but he credited God for his healing. He was the victim of a hard life and was filled with anger and bitterness, sometimes spewing unkind words about people, some of whom were those closest to him. His bent body reflected a bent anger. On top of his head was a black cowboy hat with a thin woven leather band. He wore it everywhere he went. As he sat in my office looking at me, he promised we were going to be close friends because he and my predecessor, according to his story, were close friends. I was skeptical, filled with doubt that a friendship could be sustained between the two of us. He was angry, opinionated, and we had nothing in common. My predecessor died of cancer after a twenty-plus year ministry. My predecessor presented Hank with a Bible he cherished like it was an Olympic Gold Medal. I couldn’t compete with that memory. No, it wouldn’t work and the friction between us was real. I didn’t trust him. If I was honest, I didn’t like him very much, either. Oh we were friendly, but we weren’t friends.

Time passed. A few months later Hank hobbled into my office wearing his black cowboy hat with the think woven leather band. I expected the worst; he was going to unload on me and let me have it. I braced for the assault, only to hear his rough voice say, “Jon, I think we got off to a bad start,” then he added, “I really do want to be your friend.” And from that moment, we were. We talked more. He drove me around the county, and took me to dinner at his favorite restaurant – some gas station on the Kentucky side of the Ohio River. He showed me the covered bridge made of timber from my home state of Oregon. We were friends knowing that he had my back, and in turn, I had his.

Oh, he was still angry and bitter, sometimes saying words that made me cringe or shake my head. But I was blinded and he helped me see clearer, as I started viewing Hank as my friend, not my enemy.

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Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians is really about Paul exhorting the church to reconcile their relationship with him. This is a church he started a handful of years earlier. By the time Paul writes this letter, everything he had work for had blown up. For one, a seed of resentment from Corinth was planted when Paul refused to accept pay. For us, that’s a great deal, but for a Greco-Roman world, that was almost a faux pas. They didn’t trust Paul. Secondly, an antagonistic group infiltrated the church promoting a success oriented style of ministry and Paul looked like anything but success. Loyalties to Paul and the message of the gospel he preached was in jeopardy. Writing 2 Corinthians was his attempt to call the church back to him, back to God.

By chapter five, he really starts driving home the message of the gospel in terms of reconciling relationships. To do so, he offers a vision-check in verse 16 as we no longer view people from a worldly perspective. We stop focusing on status, wealth, power, race or even build relationships around manipulation like “what I can get out of it,” instead of “what can I offer.” We stop viewing each other as enemies or competitors or as problem people, but as a new creation in Christ. Therefore, he tells us five times in verses 18-20 to be reconciled, either to God, to Paul, to each other or to all three. We call the truce. We wave the white flag of surrender. We take the hit and loss. We stop the fight and battle while laying down our arms to embrace each other in peace. No longer holding grudges, we forgive. No longer building walls, we build bridges. No longer looking for division, we seek for unity. No longer war mongering, we pursue peace. At. All. Cost.  Why? you ask? Because, as Paul says in verse 19, “. . . God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting men’s sins against them.” So in our reconciling mode we do the same: we stop counting or holding the sins of people around us against them.

Such language is so important that Paul describes this ministry of reconciliation doled out to us as if we were ambassadors sent from God to lead in reconciliation. As ambassadors, we speak and act on behalf of God. As ambassadors we have the authority to act for God. As ambassadors we do not have the right to act beyond our mandate, for Paul clarifies in the verse 20, “We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us. We implore you on Christ’s behalf: be reconciled to God.” No, as ambassadors, we model reconciliation.

On a side note, those of us in Spiritual Care take the lead in this reconciliation. When we perform an eval on our patients, we probe their lives to uncover whether reconciliation with their children, family members, or neighbors is needed. Later visits hopefully uncover those needs where we can lead them to reconcile with their needed people. Clearly, nurses and aids play a huge role in this as patients often reveal deep needs to those they trust the most.

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Sometime after I shifted my profession from church oriented work to hospice, Hank’s health took a big hit. His cancer returned with a vengeance. He entered our services and once more, I was his minister. The last conversation we had was at his house. He sat in his recliner refusing to sit or sleep anywhere else. I sat down from him on his couch. Next to me was his black cowboy hat with the think woven leather band. I picked it up and put it on my head, asking him, “How do I look?” His tired, old, wrinkly face was broken by an affirming smile. “You look great,” as he chuckled. Then he added, “When I die, you can have my hat.” And sure enough, Hank was true to his word. At his memorial, his family presented me with his hat, the same black cowboy hat with the thin woven leather band I wear today.

If you were to ask me why I wear this black cowboy hat with the think woven leather band, I’ll tell you it’s for two reasons. One, it keeps my balding head warm. And two, it reminds me that almost any relationship can be reconciled. Such a reminder that my friend Hank helped me understand so that I could see clearly. 

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is Glorified!)

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An Exposed Weakness: When Our Heroes Are Vulnerble

We love our heroes. We place them on victory stands and adorn them with honor. We build larger-than-life statutes because their feats were larger-than-life. They often defied the odds and overcame obstacles where others folded under the pressure. We cheer on their success and then quickly turn on them when they fail. For in their failures they remind us that they are human too.

In the Marvel Cinematic Universe Thor was part of the key inner circle members of the Avengers. Confident, if not arrogant. Courageous and self-sacrificing. Rugged good looks but filled with compassion. He was born to be king and people were willing to follow him. But following his failed attempt to stop Thanos, Thor’s story took a dark turn. He devolved into a coward, hiding from everyone and everything. His only solace was the hard liquor he was consuming. When we find him he’s overweight and just under drunk.

The move may have been a brilliant stroke of genius from the writers with Chris Hemsworth selling his Endgame role. Yes, I hated seeing Thor suffer from PTSD. He was still mourning the loss of his mother and pining away the breakup from Jane Foster. His sister, cut off from the family, released Ragnarok upon Asgaard destroying his home city and planet. His father’s death came with his sister’s return. While a remnant of Asgardians were fleeing as refugees, Thanos appeared. The Mad Titan murdered Thor’s step-brother, Loki, along with his closest friends. Faced with his own defeat against Thanos, Thor showed us that the “God of Thunder” was just as human as the rest of us.

Humanity may prop people up as gods, but even the best of us have vulnerable spots. When those areas are exposed and exploited we feel the pangs of death. Most people downplay and hide those areas of weakness. They try to put on a strong face to mask the pain. For the apostle Paul, he chose another approach. He marketed those very areas as the best he has to offer God.

One of the most powerful images Paul paints is the treasure and clay pot in 2 Corinthians 4:7. Center stage to his entire epistle to the Corinthians is a church that props up leaders who show no fear and display great powerful strength. Paul won’t compete on that stage. Paul can’t compete on that stage. He is frail and weak. He is like a clay jar that is fragile, breakable, and expendable. Fear and suffering mark his faith. He hardly goes through life unscathed. And yet, God has chosen to place the priceless and powerful gospel in someone so frail, broken, and expendable.

What holds Paul together, like duct tape, is God. For the gospel of Christ is lived out in frail humanity. The strength displayed in Paul is God working through him. The power for Paul to preach, teach, and endure is fueled by God. The courage to face the future is energized by God working through Paul. Paul refused to take credit for God’s work, as he says,

. . . to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We also carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may be revealed in our body (2 Cor. 4:7b-10).

To say it another way, Paul looked more like the broken Thor from Endgame than he did the mighty Thor of the previous movies. And if the Corinthians, who knew Paul face-to-face, rejected Paul because of his weaknesses, why do we think we, who only know him from history, would embrace him so readily?

Some of this “strength and weakness” theological inner conflict has come to the forefront of my thinking as I’ve been following the 2021 Tokyo Olympics. Simone Biles, reigning Olympic Gold Medalist gymnast, sent shockwaves through the world by backing out of Olympic competition. Making sense of her decision may be an effort in futility, but adding perspective to her situation is possible. While I have no idea of her faith, and based on the treasure in clay jar analogy, Biles is a physically powerful athlete who experienced a crack in her mental and emotional well-being. With that in mind, here are my thoughts to consider.

First, I have only dreamed of competing on such a stage, she has struck gold 23 times (Olympic and World Championship count). She has 31 total medals. Until we have walked in her competitive shoes, we should be slow to criticize.

Secondly, the news cycle, whether it is political or athletic in nature, is a constant barrage of attention. In the age of incessant instant information the news media and social media outlets are constantly looking for a new and breaking story. Constantly. And our athletes are compelled to entertain the reporters. Such attention is unhealthy. I read that Michael Jordan believes even he could not imagine playing under today’s scrutiny.  

Thirdly, never underestimate the effect COVID-19 has had on the athletes. The isolation and lockdown has had negative repercussions on everyone, and the reaction has varied from person to person. Remember, the Games were delayed a year. Had they played last year without COVID protocols, we probably would not have this conversation today.

Fourthly, Biles’ success came in spite of being sexually abused by Dr. Nassar. Never underestimate the emotional and psychological damage trauma Biles has had to work through. Can we even fathom what she (and 250 other girls) have had to endure with the spotlight on them for so long? I don’t think so. By the way, a big reason for her to continue competing was to protect the new gymnasts in the US Gymnastic system.

Finally, she has demonstrated tremendous courage and grace in the midst of her trials and through these Games. She could have run and hid or go home. Instead she cheered her teammates on and reentered competition to earn a Bronze Medal in the Balance Beam.

Come to think about it, she appears quite human after all. And we ought to applaud her for that, too.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)

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The Show Must Go On

Since Sunshine Church implemented COVID protocol safety measures, worship services have had a production feel to it. A need was created and we filled that need, but it still feels “produced.” Jamie and I sit on stools staring into a camera with an empty auditorium to speak to people sitting at home (more than one person has joked about us stepping into a televangelist role). The music we hear is overlaid with the high quality sound from Acappella Praise & Harmony with emphasis on the word, harmony. Jacob Miller has managed the “performance” from behind the scenes to help produce the best visual product possible. All because, when the pandemic hit, the show must go on.

James gives a stern warning for those who want to teach, for those who do will be held to a higher standard than others (Jas. 3:1). He is not decrying teaching, but he is reminding those of us who do teach that practicing what we preach is crucial to teaching. He’s not calling for fewer teachers, but for more teachers to model faith. But herein lies the difficulty. Not only do Sunday sermons come every seven days, but so does the Sunday evening and Wednesday evening bible classes. A lot of content and instruction funnels through the church, and that’s not counting the numerous other bible class instructions. While the pandemic streamlined the teaching, generally the church is begging and pleading with members to step into roles of teaching so that students have their teacher, leaving James’ concern far behind.

“It just seems like there’s something I’m leaving behind, but the show must go on.”*

Following the events of Elijah’s confrontation with the priests of Baal, we find him on the run. Did he believe that his moment on Mt. Carmel would ignite a great awakening and revival in Israel? Did he convince himself that a place of honor and status awaited him in Samaria? Was he that surprised that Ahab and Jezebel sought to have him executed? Did it ever occur to him that Mt. Carmel was too much about him and not enough about God? Regardless, he found himself spiritually and emotionally depleted and alone. Not wanting to go on any further, he was through with preaching and living.

“I just keep pretending to live for the game, so the show must go on.”*

When Paul wrote to the Corinthians for the second time, he included three sections known as “Affliction Lists” (4:8-10; 6:3-10; 11:23-29). In these passsages, Paul underscores the amount of pain he has endured for the sake of Christ (we’re probably more familiar with clay jar section of 4:8-10 and his final list of “boasting” in 11:23-29, than we are with chapter six). While he writes with hope, he refuses to gloss over his experiences, even admitting he felt like Elijah where he despaired even of life (1:8). But God holds Paul together, fueling his strength, passion and joy. And while he’s endured difficult days where he wants to give up, something inside of him wouldn’t quit.

“I just keep on bending the rules to fit the pain so the show must go on.”*

So here we endure while we wade through the floods from COVID. We settle for the online presence and worship, because it’s available with modern technology. But like every other social media platform, it cannot replace togetherness as it causes separation anxiety. We long to gather as a church. We ache to assemble in person so that we can look into each other’s eyes while praising God and encouraging one another. But even when the date is set for in-person worship, COVID will still hover like dark rain clouds. Even though vaccinations are rolling out, questions remain. How long will we have to wear masks? Will my hands ever heal from being chapped from all the handwashing? How long till social distancing is lifted? What will the result of the new virus strains be?  I don’t know the answer to these burning questions; I don’t believe anyone really does. But this I do know. Whether online or in-person, whether the auditorium is empty, partially filled or filled, whether COVID hovers or dissipates, we will continue offering a platform for worship. Because the show must go on. 

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)

* Words by Bill Chaplin & Bruce Gaitsch