Bright Yellow Circles

I recently received an email on my iPhone, liberally sprinkled with emoticons. Those emotional icons, also known as emojis and most characteristically represented by smiley faces, convey a depth of feeling not possible in most direct email-prose. The person sending the email had been struggling with a number of issues, and she wanted to share not only her welcome news but also the joy that accompanied it. Not surprisingly, when I opened the same email in Outlook, the smiley faces had all become question marks. So much for compatibility.
     There is an uncomfortable truth here, however. Behind the momentary joy expressed in bright yellow circles lies a thoughtful and deeply spiritual person – a person for whom many questions remain unanswered. Life is both kind and cruel, fair and unfair, rewarding and demanding. I would be much happier without the uncertainties of life, as would she, but I suspect that I would be a much poorer pastor. All of the nagging question marks of life, the unsettling, unanswered “whys?” connect us. They signal our shared humanity, but they may also divide us.
     The fault line lies along the path of acceptance. The Psychoanalyst, Erik Erikson, noted that the chief virtue of old age is wisdom. Individuals struggle to come to terms with what their lives have meant. Am I satisfied or dissatisfied with what I have accomplished, and equally as importantly, with what I have not accomplished? The answer to that question is critical. No one who despairs over the past can ever truly connect with others. It is only the man or woman who has faced and accepted life as it is lived in the real world that is finally wise.
     The Preacher ends his book of wisdom, Ecclesiastes: “The end of the matter, all has been heard. Fear God, and keep his commandments; for that is the whole duty of everyone” (Eccl. 12:13, NRSV). This is no idle advice. The Preacher wants us to understand the criteria by which life is to be judged. Judged not only by God, but also by ourselves. This is what it means to be finally wise: to place things in their proper place, with their proper importance. Faith does not require of us that we have all understanding, does not demand great knowledge, does not expect perfection. To the contrary, faith meets us afresh, everyday, with our fears and doubts, and calls us to trust. To trust the God who did not come to judge the world but to save it.
     Such a faith is indeed lived in bright yellow circles. Some with smiles, some with frowns, some with winks, and some just plain perplexed. But underneath the circles, as long as we are in this body, there will be question marks. Those who have eyes to see can behold God in both.

Hello

I am pleased to have my blog added to the Baptist Blogs and Bloggers website. I regularly read the entries, but I am not sure I have much to add. I hope that what I write may not only be of interest but may be helpful to those wrestling with the same questions that trouble me. What does it mean to be a Christian in today’s world? Who is Jesus for me? And, what, if anything, can I say through my life and witness to a lost and disoriented world?
   I though by way of introduction I would reprint a blog I wrote in August, 2007:

     In his collection of essays, Unfinished Rabbi, Arnold Jacob Wolf writes of the many different people and groups he has taught. What unites them, he says, is: “In each case they are allergic to superficial one-shot lectures and to halfhearted generalities.” Sadly, too many Protestant pastors have fallen into the trap of refusing to take the laity seriously. All too often congregations are subjected to Sunday school lessons and sermons that are shallow to the point of being trite and which bear little relevance to their lives. We wonder at declining attendance, we reconstruct worship to model the latest fad in popular entertainment, and we offer cafeteria services to meet the needs of our ‘target demographic,’ all the while ignoring the simple fact that our parishioners are tired of “superficial one-shot lectures and halfhearted generalities.”
     I am both unapologetically Baptist and unapologetically ecumenical. I believe that the historical Baptist witness has been and remains an important voice in American Christianity. It is not the only voice. Few of us stand in the pulpit on Sunday morning and face a homogenous gathering of people raised in Baptist churches. Often, nearly half will have come from other Christian traditions — some many years ago, some within the past few months, and some whose spiritual journey continues to lead them from denomination to denomination. Many who are with us this Sunday may in the future transfer membership to a non-Baptist church. What they ultimately seek is a deepening spiritual life, a growing faith, and a relationship with God. A laity defined by denominational identity has given way to a pan-Protestant laity, defined by a heartfelt desire for love and fellowship within the bounds of the historic Christian faith. Such people will not suffer the superficial or the halfhearted lightly.
     Some weeks ago, a young visitor approached me after the service. She told me that she goes to church to be fed for the week ahead. Instead of a full meal, the pastor puts a pea on her plate. She thanked me for manna for the week’s journey. I should be flattered, but the truth is, I’m not that good. It saddens me to think that there are millions more like this young woman, whose pastor does not take her seriously enough to give her more than a pea.
   I hope visitors to this website will find food for thought. I learned many years ago as an inner city hospice chaplain that I don’t have all the answers. Sometimes I don’t have any answers, but together we can at least explore the questions. Like Rabbi Wolf, I am an unfinished pastor; more importantly, I am an unfinished Christian. Like the disciples on the road to Emmaus, I have much to learn before my eyes are fully opened.

There Will be a Tomorrow

People are worried. As the stock market continues to decline and home values fall, people are understandably concerned about their futures. I am no financial expert, but it is a curious fact that, as a pastor, people ask my advice or seek my opinion about things for which I’m no more knowledgeable than they are. It’s rarely appropriate to say, “Your guess is as good as mine.” Because what people are really seeking is reassurance; what they want is to be told things will be all right. I tell them the truth. I am optimistic.

            Whatever the leading economic indicators say ( Sometimes they seem to be no more accurate than reading tea leaves.), we are reminded over and over again in Scripture to have  faith that God will look after us. Throughout Lent and the Easter season, I will be speaking about what it means to take up your cross and follow Jesus.  A central theme running through each message is that one should take the Sermon on the Mount seriously. The people of Jesus’ day faced an uncertain future under foreign rule. Wherever he went, he faced crowds of the poor and the disenfranchised. It is to them that he spoke the Beatitudes, reminding them of God’s special care and affection for the poor. It is to them that he said, “So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or What shall we wear/?’ … and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.”

            We are not promised a life free from trials. We are promised help. Jesus reminds us that the God who made us watches over us. He knows our needs, and he knows how to meet them. Paul reaffirms this promise when he reminds us that even in the worst of times, the times when we do not even know how to pray or what to pray about, God’s own Spirit intercedes for us with sighs and groans too deep for words. This is the cause of our optimism, the cause of our hope for a better tomorrow.

            I have several friends who are waiting anxiously to learn if they are among those whose jobs will be eliminated. In all cases they have been with the same firms for many years. It is a tragedy to lose one’s job. The loss is more than just a loss of income. Friends. Meaning. Structured activity. All of these go by the wayside in a single announcement.  No, I can’t predict the economic future. Not yours; not mine; not the country’s. I can speak a word of comfort, a word of courage, a word of hope. God has not forsaken us. There will be a tomorrow, and it will be bright once again.

The End of a Book Section and the Decline of the Washington Post

Yesterday, I walked out to the driveway to retrieve the newspaper, and for a moment, I thought there had been a mistake. I was certain that the Post had inadvertently shorted my Sunday paper. Like many loyal Post readers, I am accustomed to a fat roll of newsprint, one stuffed with news, opinion, sports, pop culture, and a healthy does of the curious, even odd happenings in the world, both local and remote — the kind of coverage best described by the neologism “glocal.” That‘s my Washington Post, glocal. This is the stuff not found on the internet without effort.

The paper was not shorted. It was, alas, just “thin.” This was not the first morning that my wife and I have commented about the decline of the Post. For some time, the Post has seemingly become more and more irrelevant. The treatment of stories has often been superficial to the point of being trite. The front-page layout invites laughter. A case in point: a front page story in lead position decrying the failure of women to break through the Federal glass ceiling placed directly under a color photo of Hilary Clinton, taken just after her being sworn-in as Secretary of State, with other powerful women plainly visible in the background. And worse yet, the paper seems committed to fifth-grade English. Whoever said that the American people, especially those who subscribe to major newspapers like the Washington Post, read with grade school comprehension? The Post has become thin indeed, not only in size, but also in journalistic and artistic integrity.

On January 29, 2009, in an article by Howard Kurtz, the Post announced the decision to discontinue publication of its separate book section. To be fair, the Post is following in the footsteps of many newspapers, e.g., The San Francisco Chronicle and the Los Angeles Times. But it is significant that the previous CEO of the Post, the late Katherine Graham, more than once told the book section’s editor, Marie Arana, that although the section was not self-supporting, “[I]t didn’t matter, sales be damned, because the mark of a good newspaper was its book section.” It is also worthy of note that Washington Post editor Rachel Shea is quoted as saying, “It’s nice to have a separate section with big display and a big shout-out to what the most important book is. But it’s not worth gnashing our teeth about too much.” The differing attitudes reveal more than a change of editorial policy.

The point at which the Post began to decline is difficult to pinpoint. Perhaps it was a gentle slide, too gradual to notice. It became apparent during the election, however, that the old Washington Post was merely a thing of history and fond memory. At issue was journalistic integrity. By Election Day, few people that I know were reading the Post, and those that did were limiting themselves to the Style and Sports Sections. The common response to “I read it in this morning’s Washington Post” was “You can’t believe anything that you read in the Post” – this from both Democrats and Republicans. The cause of this perception is not hard to discover. The high state of journalism, both print and broadcast, to which Americans became accustomed in the Post-WWII decades has rapidly eroded in the last generation.

H.L. Mencken credited the high state of journalism prevalent in the major city newspapers in the post-WWI years to their prosperity, a prosperity born of the decline of yellow journalism and the consolidation of city papers with a consequent reduction in competition. The result was a higher standard of reporting. Newspapers were characterized by an editorial policy that “can not be intimidated. They try to report the news as they understand it, and to promote the truth as they see it.” The presentation of truth is precisely the issue in today’s media. The “yellows,” as Mencken referred to them, did not altogether disappear. “The more decorous and decent newspapers, in striving for more civilized manners, have dragged the yellows with them.” But Mencken goes on to note that “[T]he cleaning up has not altogether pleased the public. On the lower levels it longs with a great longing for the old circus-poster headlines, the old scares and hoaxes, the old sentimentalities and imbecilities. It wants thrills, not news; pictures, not text.” Perhaps, here is the answer. Perhaps we are in the midst of another of life’s enduring cycles. Journalism, printed and televised, is caught in the grip of a strangling competition. The result is a decline in quality to the lowest common denominator. Instead of a half-hour of news, we get three minutes on the hour. Instead of Walter Cronkite and David Brinkley, we get Chris Matthews and Nancy Grace. Instead of thoughtful questions and answers, we get James Carville and Andrea Mitchell shouting over one another. The yellows have reasserted themselves, and they have dragged the whole lot down with them. But journalists beware, the “old circus-poster headlines, the old scares and hoaxes, the old sentimentalities and imbecilities” eventually led to the death of the newspapers that relied upon them. We are indeed in a cycle, but who will emerge at the other end? If history is any guide, beware of being numbered among the yellows. The Washington Post is thin, but more worrisome is its deeply yellow cast. Readership and viewership of the majors continues to decline. Perhaps the answer is not to become more like the tabloids. Perhaps becoming a tabloid is the problem.

Seasons of Life

I must confess. I have joined the legion of Wi-Fi slugs. I sit in Panara or Starbucks, sometimes for hours, one hand grasping a mug of coffee, the other two-finger tapping at my keyboard. I have learned to tune out Frank Sinatra and Perry Como (Yes! Perry Como!), singing Christmas carols from the 50’s. If it gets too bad, I can always put my earphones in and let my iphone shield me from the outside world. Such is the wonder of modern technology.

I am not alone. Almost everyone sitting in Panara in mid-afternoon is “connected” in some way. There is a regular group of retired investors who I always seem to wind up sitting near. In the past few months they have grown increasingly grim faced as they peck away at their keyboards, making online trades, giving each other tips and advice, talking of sums of money made and lost that seem stunning to me, even for one who works in one of the wealthiest counties in America. I want to feel sorry for them, but I find it hard to relate.

Yesterday I had a different experience. I sat near a late middle-aged man, about my age. He was wearing an ear bud, and he was systematically working his way through a computer contact file. He was oblivious to the rest of us as he told and retold his story to technical directors and personnel managers. He had gone through his severance, and he was nearing the end of his savings. His only option was to begin drawing on his 401K. He didn’t say this to all of his contacts, of course. But to those he had known for a long, time, those with whom he had a deeper relationship, he was clearly calling out for help. I felt badly. I knew of nowhere to refer him. It has been too many years since I was in the world of high-tech commerce.

Most of us know someone like this man. We add them to our prayer lists. We offer them what help we can. As a church we help with the basic necessities of life – food, lodging, and clothing. We do what we can for them. In this season, we can do something else for ourselves. We can, and we must, remind ourselves that we are loved deeply by the one who most matters. The birth of the baby Jesus in a lowly manger does remind us that God can come to us in the most humble circumstances, and through that act redeems all of life’s situations. It is a cliché, to be sure. But it is a cliché that has stirred the hearts of millions and given hope to generations for two millennia.

Lighting Advent candles symbolizes Christ chasing the darkness away. With each additional candle, the sanctuary brightens and the winter recedes. There are “seasons of distress and grief” as an old favorite hymn reminds us, but we are reminded that it is in prayer that we find relief. In prayer, because prayer connects us to the one who can truly make a difference. It is time this Christmas season to put aside our worries, if just for awhile, and to “come together for Christmas,” to come together as a  family of faith, and rejoicing together,  reclaim the hope and promise that is Christmas, as Christ chases the darkness away..

Congressional Bailout Failure: A Failure to Listen

Yesterday’s defeat of a massive funding bill designed to restore liquidity to the nation’s financial markets has sparked a vigorous debate about who is to blame and which of the political candidates will benefit.  A critical fact has been ignored in all of the name calling and finger pointing. The American people hated this bill. News outlets across the spectrum reported that congress has been besieged with emails, letters, and phone calls expressing outrage at the prospect of a trillion dollars of taxpayer money being used in yet another bailout scheme. Two separate cable news channels reported that public opinion, as measured by congressional correspondence to both Republicans and Democreats, showed clearly the failure of the political leadership to convince the public that this bill was a good idea.

The news media responded with endless analyses of the American public’s failure to understand the gravity of the situation and our failure to understand just how badly in need of immediate rescue we are. Rubbbish. The American people are not uninformed nor are they ignorant of how business works. We are asking a very serious question, however. Simply put: Why this bill and this bill only? It may be the best solution, but no one is debating alternatives. When Americans are asked to fork over control of their collective checkbooks to the tune of a trillion dollars, they have a right to know that all options were on the table and that the best one was selected. As a people, we do not tolerate being told by the government to shut up  while they take care of us.

There has been a huge leadership failure, and there is enough blame to be shared by all. The biggest failure was the attempt to force an enormous spending bill, with the most sweeping powers ever granted to the Secretary of the Treasury, through congress without public debate. Hearings may have taken time, but in the end, a week’s worth of hearings and debate might have taken no more time than will have been wasted due to the rancor caused by this process.

In the end, it boils down to this. Ninety-five Dmocrats voted ”no” on this bill for the same reason over a hundred Republicans did so. Their constituents told them that if they voted for this bill, “Don’t bother to come home.” Americans know that action needs to be taken. They want a say in what that that action is to be. People don’t want to be “saved” by their government if that means their government acts precipitously, against their expressed wishes.  Urging representatives to ignore their constituents is fundamentally at odds with the basic principles of American government. I seem to recall that the American system prides itself on being government by the people. Listen to them.

Feeling Good About Gas at $3.45 Per Gallon

I had a shock, yesterday. I went to check out at the grocery store, and I was unprepared for the high cost of the few items in my two small, plastic bags, even though prices have been rising steadily for weeks. Earlier in the day, I was feeling triumphant about finding gas for $3.45 per gallon. Both are signs of a changed world. When you calculate the cost of your few groceries based on your hourly wage, you are left wondering whether or not you can afford to eat (an annoying habit). When gas prices seem not only reasonable but a bargain at nearly three and a half dollars per gallon, you have to conclude that something dramatic has changed in your outlook on the world. By the way, has it occurred to anyone that the oil companies have conditioned us to accept $3.4599 as $3.45 instead of $3.46?

Both political parties have vowed to save us. Neither, it seems, is really in touch with what most working-class people experience day after day: high prices, stagnant wages, job uncertainty, and increasing uneasiness about their financial futures. As we baby-boomers turn sixty, our thoughts naturally turn to concerns of economic security. What happens to me when I retire or can no longer work? These are serious questions, and they need thoughtful planning and careful decision-making. They also need prayerful consideration.

We like to believe that we live in a world under our control. If we choose the right people, the right political party, they will return us to prosperity. The corollary to this belief is that someone or some government policy is to blame for our current difficulties. The truth is more disturbing. Economies, local ones as well as global ones, are not really under anyone’s direct control. Yes, speculators can sometimes wreak havoc, but even in speculative markets, multiple, powerful forces are at work. We say that these situations are “over determined,” i.e., they do not have a simple, easily identifiable cause and effect. It is natural for us to feel anxiety under conditions such as these.

The God of the Bible does not promise us untroubled, economic security. Prosperity gospels are comforting, but sooner or later we are faced with the facts of life. God has not made me rich. What God has done is to see me through the hard times, to provide for me in times of need, to care for me and my family. This is the promise of the very first Psalm. I don’t believe it is an accident that the compilers chose for the first entry one that begins with the words, “Blessed is the man.” One that proclaims that those who love God will be like a tree planted by streams of water, a tree whose leaves do not wither. God has promised to be with us, even in the “valley of deep darkness.” And Jesus asks us why we are so anxious when God knows our every need before we ask it.

Anxiety is part and parcel of the human condition, but we are called to exercise faith in the midst of life’s difficulties. Faith does not grant us immediate relief, nor does it guarantee fulfillment of our every wish. It does, however, provide us with needed security, with hope that things will get better, that we will get through this. We will overcome because God is with us. Yes, we will still have to look for the best prices, defer spending, even on things we may need, but ultimately, in all things that matter, we trust in God to fulfill his promises to us, to look after us.

This does not relieve us of our responsibility as citizens of his kingdom nor does it relieve us of our responsibility to exercise our rights and duties as citizens of whatever country to which claim allegiance. It is one thing to acknowledge that many of the things we face daily are beyond our control; it is quite another to absolve ourselves of responsibility for our neighbors. I may not be able to change the economy, but I can reach out to those in need. I can act with kindness and compassion. I can share in the suffering of my neighbor and do whatever lies within my means to alleviate that suffering. I have been priveleged to travel the world and see at close hand the effects of poverty, war, and ill-conceived revolutions. It has taught me this: I am my brothers and sisters keeper. Cynicism may be a plague of our time, but it provides no answers. It solves no problems. The world changes by degrees. Want has a human face. It is the face of the one who stands before me. I may marvel at the rising cost of groceries, but I can still buy groceries, and I can still help others, and in that small, seemingly inconsequential act of kindness, I can make a statement for the common humanity of us all. This is message of the biblical book of James. Clothe the poor, feed the hungry, comfort the weary. This is the heart of Gospel as it is to be lived in our daily lives, and this is the hope of the Gospel. For that, thanks be to God.

 

 

 

Can One Be a Saint if God Does Not Exist?

In 1927 Justice Brandeis wrote that our founders believed that the final end of the state was to make all of us free to develop our faculties. “They believed liberty to be the secret of happiness and courage to be the secret of liberty.” We found few in our society who would challenge this assumption as we celebrated the Fourth of July. Indeed, as we watched the celebration on the grounds of the Capitol — A Capitol Fourth –  waving our American flags (distributed by volunteers to those of us who forgot to bring our own ), we could not help being caught up in feelings of pride. This is what the founders wanted to bequeath to us. This is what so many Americans fought and died for.

One of my favorite authors, Albert Camus, provides a much needed commentary on post- modern life when he writes: “Can one be a saint if God does not exist? That is the only concrete problem I know of today.” In a time of war, it seems to me that this question looms large. What is the point? That, indeed, is a concrete problem for today. We may also ask, along with Camus, what does it mean to be a saint? That seems to me to be an equally important and related question.

Standing at the heart of all such questions is the idea of freedom. When we speak of freedom we all too often restrict its meaning to being able to do whatever we wish. What we do not consider are the consequences to others and to ourselves. True freedom never enslaves us. Paul writes in Romans of powerful forces at work within all of us. Who has not experienced with Paul the failure of the will? “I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do.” (Rom. 7:18b-19) The Apostle Paul writes in Romans that we are slaves to whom we obey. He also writes that we know to whom we are enslaved. Paul identifies this dominating force as sin. Although our post-modern world vehemently rejects the very idea of sin, our conscience does not lie to us. Rather, it excuses or accuses us according to our actions. This is the common experience, whether we acknowledge it publicly or wrestle privately with our regrets and self-accusations “O wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?” Paul answers his own question with the rousing affirmation: “I thank God –through Jesus Christ our Lord!”

For Paul, the only truly free person is one who, recognizing the person and authority of Jesus Christ, has given himself to something greater than himself. In so doing, he chooses life. Paul’s letter to the Romans is nothing less than an affirmation of life. Amidst all of the conflicting demands of life and the conflicting calls for loyalty, one stands out. Paul unflinchingly chooses God. In so doing, he affirms for us that God has freed us to live, freed us to make mistakes, freed us to begin again and again, if necessary. There are, indeed, second chances, and third, and fourth, and fifth. That is the meaning of grace.

It does take courage to live. Justice Brandeis was correct, without courage there is no liberty. But without faith there is neither liberty nor the courage to sustain it. Cynicism is the influenza of our age. Who can resist the  temptation to turn a jaded eye on all that we see? Only the person of faith. Albert Camus wrote in Actuelles, “In the midst of winter I finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer.” For me, the invincible summer emerges through the eyes of faith. Courage is indeed the guarantor of liberty. But acts of courage are only possible in those whose eyes have beheld something greater than themselves. To be a person of courage is to live life to its fullest, to be willing to step out in faith, to be willing to make mistakes. A life thus lived is one of courage and liberty, and a life thus conceived is lived amidst an invincible summer. That is what is meant by a life of faith. That is what it means to be a saint. That is the gift of God, and for this, thanks be to God.

 

The Fourth Day

It has been said that we cannot remember the three most important days of our lives: the day of our conception, the day of our birth, and the day of our death. The days that lie between our birth and death make us who we are and contain myriad special days and events to be remembered. All of them marked on our personal calendars. The church, as well as society at large, has its days, no date more important than Easter Sunday. On this day we remember the fourth important day in the life of Jesus, his resurrection.The need to accurately fix the date of Easter and the other major Christian festivals fueled the development of our modern calendar. It was promulgated by Pope Gregory XIII in 1582, after the Jesuit astronomer, Christopher Clavius, solved the age-old problem of keeping the calendar synchronized with the seasons. Easter always falls on the first Sunday following the first full moon after the Spring Equinox. As such, the earliest possible date for Easter is March 22, and the latest possible date is April 25. This year is the earliest Easter has fallen in 85 years!Regardless of how early or late Easter falls, it is a time for us to remember not only those events in the life of Jesus — his arrest, his trial, his crucifixion, and his resurrection — but also to think about the very great promise of Easter for you and me. The ancient Baptismal creed of the church ends with the phrase “I believe in … the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting.” This is the historic confession and faith of the church. Just as Jesus was raised from the dead, so also shall we be. The fourth important day in the life of Jesus will also be our fourth day, and Easter is God’s seal and promise that the life Jesus now lives will be ours for eternity.Easter is more than just another holiday on the Gregorian Calendar. It is the birthday of a new order into which we have been translated through God’s grace. It is true that we may never remember our conception or our birth, but it is also true that as Christians we are promised that someday we will remember not only our death but also our resurrection to life.

Standing at the Crossroads

 We cannot afford to forget any experience, even the most painful. (Dag Hammarskjöld, Markings, 1951).

 

I was re-reading Markings, and I was stuck by the above quote. I have had several conversations in the past few weeks with people who have either refused to deal with the events/ mistakes of the past, or alternately, who seem completely victimized by the past.  St. Paul tells us to forget what lies behind and to strive for the prize that lies ahead (Phil. 3:13). These two admonitions, one the voice of the Apostle, the other the wise counsel of a world leader, seem to contradict one another. I would argue that both are profoundly true. To dwell on the past, whether on its pain or its triumphs, cripples the present and robs it of its immediacy and promise. We stand always at a crossroads. Choices lie before us that determine our future. St. Paul reminds us that we are to keep our eyes fixed on the ultimate prize, the one that always lies before us, the fulfillment of our calling in Christ Jesus.

For Christians, each moment is redeemed by the power of the Holy Spirit. That is why Paul can write that all things work to the good of those who love the Lord and are called according to his purpose (Rom. 8:28). Even tragedy has the potential to be transformed. Life shows us that such occasions also have the power to destroy. It is faith that makes the difference.

Mature faith never underestimates the power of the past. Experience is the wise counselor that warns us of danger. It is also the voice of encouragement, sometimes softly heard, sometimes a shout in our ear. St. Paul warns us of the dangers of being ruled by the past. Dag Hammarskjöld warns us that to ignore the past is to rob ourselves of one of life’s most important counselors, even as he also cautions us not to ignore the distortions in the “mirror of yesterday.”

One path leads to slavery, the other to freedom. The difference between the two is grace. It is grace that redeems the past and robs it of its power over us. It is grace that illumines what might yet still be. It is grace that empowers us to act for that future. It is for this freedom to act, Paul writes, that Christ has set us free. And this freedom is life in the Spirit. It is living in the past that St. Paul rejects. He urges us to live into our future secure in the knowledge that those who follow the Spirit do indeed have the power to remember the past, even while transcending it.