Sunday 6 July 2014

Working Grace

In one of the final scenes of the movie “V for Vendetta”, is the climactic recognition by the main character (named "V"), that his years of seeking vengeance on his enemies have been a brutal and broken response to the pain inflicted on himself and his country. The movie is a reinterpretation of the Guy Fawkes story, with a George Orwell 1984 twist, set in modern Britain. The script moves through his self-understandings as hero, villain, victim and ultimately as anti-hero.  

This growth in self-understanding - and consequent action - is what makes a good story. Students of literature are taught to look out for character development and understand how these contribute to the quality or otherwise of the story. Sometimes this comes through growing (or breaking) relationships, while at other times the growth of the character comes through a moment when they are forced to reflect on their actions or inactions.

And one reason why these stories work for us, is that they reflect the reality of our daily lives and give us opportunity to respond or act differently.  When the movie “Once were Warriors” came out in New Zealand, it generated a considerable ferment of conversation in the general public about domestic violence and how each of us contribute to it.  It did this because the characters reflected our “ordinaryness”, while at the same time having to come to terms with their “ordinary” brokenness or weakness.

At some point in our lives, we have all struggled with our own brokenness in relation to others. Whether as a parent with our children, as a child with parents, a spouse, business or work colleague or neighbour, our brokenness expresses itself in anger, gossip, unkind words or avoidance. Many of our apologies are framed because we “should not have done …” this or that … or we “should have known better” or "I wasn’t thinking clearly”. We are ordinary people trying to be the best we can be, but not always succeeding. Our brokenness “leaks” when we don’t want it to and we have to admit that while our standards are fairly high, our reality never quite gets there.

This is what Paul is talking about. The Message translation puts it this way; “For if I know the law but still can't keep it, and if the power of sin within me keeps sabotaging my best intentions, I obviously need help! I realize that I don't have what it takes. I can will it, but I can't do it. I decide to do good, but I don't really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway”. Romans 7.17-19 The Bible

The naming of “sin” is not popular, even in churches. However we know its reality in our own lives, and (maybe especially) in the lives of others.

From Entertainers Rolf Harris and Jimmy Savville to cyclist Lance Armstrong, we struggle to admit that people we thought of as lofty as heroes or as simply as kind, ordinary people, that these people are not only sinful, but abominably so.

It is abhorrent when we see it in others. It is scary when we see it in ourselves.  How do we deal with it? What do we do?  Over centuries of Christian practice there have been many answers offered. It would be fair to say that some have not been helpful.  Here’s a few thoughts that might be helpful.

I don’t believe it is helpful to tell people that if they sin they are going to Hell.
I do believe that we need to understand our brokenness and how it creates Hell in ourselves and others.

I don’t believe that we should beat ourselves up about our sin
I do believe that we need to name our sin for what it is.

I don’t believe that God judges us when we sin.
I believe that God requires us to account for our attitude towards it.

I don’t pretend that sin and brokenness and evil and humanity are easy to understand or solve. For it draws from me tears and frustration and sometimes even despair.

But I hope that I will always find a place for Grace.

The answer for sin and brokenness and weakness has never been to pile on guilt or damnation or promises of Hell.  God’s answer has always been grace.

After having slammed those who abuse power, and commended those who seek to understand God’s ways, Jesus says this; ““Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest”  Another translation goes on to say this …
“Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill–fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly.” Matthew 11.29-30 The Bible

“The unforced rhythms of grace”. However, to understand Grace, one needs to have encountered brokenness and sin.

I wrote this on Facebook during the week:
"What does a responsible, caring, parent / Christian / minister do? Rolf Harris is stripped of titles and awards, and his plaque is ripped out of pavements. Should we be throwing out his albums? What does our action or inaction say to our daughters, to our childhood memories, to those women (and men) for whom this trial and verdict have brought up the most terrible of memories about their own childhood abuse?”

I was on the floor stretching in the clubhouse yesterday after our run, and one of the guys came over to me and said that he had read my post on FaceBook, commenting how hard it was to deal with these questions. One of the other guys, a family councillor, chimed in and said that we need to keep talking about this - as hard as it is - because it is the only way we can bring out what is hidden and make it seen for what it is - unacceptable.

But what do we do with Rolf Harris?

One answer is simple.  Do what the Herald Sun did this week, and label him as an “Evil Mug”, and a “Singing and dancing predator”.  We demonise him, because it is easier to see evil in “them”, than to see it in us.  And if they are NOT like us, the separation and justification becomes easier.  As James Godfrey said to us in May, when we separate “them” from “us” it is no longer our issue, it is their problem and our job is to ignore them or come up with a solution for them, or lock him up and throw away the key.

So where does Grace fit, even there?

Or do we see him as human like us. Can we at the same time acknowledge his weakness or brokenness or sin AND see him as human like us?

Can we abhor his actions and do all we can to stop it happening again, AND still find grace to recognise that he too is created in God’s image?

Can grace go too far - even there?

This is working Grace.

When we wrestle with this very real human brokenness and sin and evil in our world and in our own lives, and are able to see that Grace persists, even in the middle of all this.


U2 have a great take on Grace. "Grace finds Beauty in Everything". (or Click here.)

“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.  Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. … Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly.”

Wednesday 2 July 2014

The invitation of a hill


A hill is what it is.
It cannot change what it is.
I need to change in order to run it:
either get stronger or run smarter
or find another hill.

I never conquer the hill
- it will not be mine;
 It's challenge will still be there tomorrow.

I conquer myself
my fears, my inadequacy
I am stronger at the end than I was at the beginning:
Not because I have run the hill
but because I have given my best.

The hill is what it is
It cannot change what it is.
It invites me to change.