Lamentation Takes A Few Years

My nephew Andrew and niece Staci were in Jerusalem together last week. Andrew took this picture at what is called the "Wailing Wall." It is the western portion of Herod's temple, (the ruins of its foundation) a traditional place where the children of Israel would come to offer up prayers for sins and failures in their lives for the expressed purpose of communicating with God their spiritual brokenness before Him, their dependence upon Him. We always think of children wailing as they need food, a drink, or their diaper changed. Babies cry for help for they are helpless in many ways. In a real sense adults wailing before God is a beautiful symbolic gesture of man/woman's true standing. We are helpless before Him and his creation. How long would we live if the sun suddenly went supernova? What could we do? But what difference would it make to God? Would he be affected? I think not. In so many ways we are so vulnerable. In so many ways, in all ways we need our Heavenly Father. How often do we forget this truth?

There is a second word or concept associated with the Wailing Wall and that is lament. This is more than a cry for help. The children of Israel lament at this place. They express sorrow and deep regret. It is in this word that we find a deeper meaning than simply thinking of the western wall of the temple as being a place of wailing. It is here that guilt is recognized both corporate and individual. The older I become the greater is my understanding of the word, lament. It is such an important spiritual reality that a book of the Bible was named by the word. Lamentation: the utterance of profound regret, a wailing cry.

As I grow older and study Scripture I am coming to the point of grasping the idea of collectivism. Having been raised in an ever growing and successful culture, that seems at every turn to abhor any recognition of merit in anything communal, it has been a hard learning for me. I have lived the entire Cold War. A man, John Wayne, single handed took on the Soviet Union and triumphed. This archetype of the rugged individual expressed by Mr. Wayne was my proverbial baby food, fast food, and dessert from birth to maturity. For me to think collectively is nearly impossible. Also, collective thinking is different than simple team work. I can be a great individual on a team, I can not be an invisible member of some vast, loosely defined group. As Frank Sinatra would sing, "I gotta be me!" But this is not Scriptural. Success and failure are often seen in the Bible as national success or failure. Certainly there are striking individuals who appear on the scene, but the Word of God is about the Gospel to and for "God's People." Though I can and should read and understand its specific messages for me, I should also see that I am only "a part." The Wailing Wall is a place where individuals not only confess sins and pray for themselves and their loved ones, it is a place where they confess and pray for their nation.

I thought the photo interesting as you see the innocence of the child. The child has a face of one who could perhaps wail at any time. Yet it is the father, facing the wall, who understands not only the wail but lamentation too. That is why he is there. He is old enough to know his place, he is old enough to be acutely aware of his short comings, his flaws, his sin. I thought this picture precious.

We need to lament from time to time, I think. I think we don't do it enough particularly as citizens of the United States. Our culture seems to be blind to the need to recognize error when it comes to collective sin. We are reticent to take on the guilt of others. Yet, as I look at our history there are few countries that have done a better job of it. Certainly a paradoxical reality. Perhaps it is not that we are so good at it as it is that other nations are so bad in recognizing collective sin. That we have lamented and repented on social evils such as racism, sexism, voting rights, and have changed direction and law is something to remember and cherish. And why are we better at it? I am not sure. I do think there are two forces at play. There are those in our nation who are totally secular and lamentation and wailing are not in their vocabulary. Then there are those who "fear God" and are wise. I think they are the salt that preserves and moves our nation forward and not back despite "those others." Interestingly, I am not at all sure that the salt necessarily sits in church pews Sunday mornings. There are churches that represent "cultural religion and values" more than they do Jesus Christ, Savior and Lord. The salt seems dispersed pretty much. Many who sit in pews on Sunday morning have "lost their taste."

I wonder. Could our nation benefit from a "Wailing Wall" of its own? Some would suggest it is the Vietnam War Memorial. Could be...could be. I am not sure. It could be a start in that direction. Maybe some day in the distant future it could be seen that way. A place to beseech God, as a helpless child/nation, to come and confess and regret, to seek peace with God and man, to ask for forgiveness, and...to get help. "If we confess our sins He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness." I will hang my hat on that. Would you go to such a wailing wall if our nation had one? Would I? I would hope so. In the absence of an official and historical sight as Jerusalem's Wailing Wall perhaps we have such a place in the mean time. Could it be that it is the back wall of our bedroom closets?

Some Treasures Seem Misplaced...I Guess.

This car was sold the other day at auction for $11,000,000.00. It is thought to be the highest price ever paid at auction for an automobile in all of history. The car is a 1961 Ferrari California Spyder. As you can tell by the picture it is, for a car, most beautiful and it is like new. It is a museum piece, not something you would drive to work. I can understand preserving "art". It can certainly be argued that this particular car is in fact a "work of art" and not just basic transportation. I do have to ask myself the question, "What would I do with a spare eleven million dollars?" The individual or company who purchased this car used discretionary income. The ROI (Return On Investment) on such a purchase is not high enough and the risk of loosing money is great enough that one would never "bet the farm" on such a object. In other words, whoever purchased this vehicle had money to burn and lots of it. We must be careful not to be judgemental. At the same time we are called to be discerning. What would you do with eleven mil? Better yet, what would you do with a spare twenty dollar bill? What we do with the treasure, regardless of its size, the Lord allows us to have is one of the most telling dye markers for our spiritual temperature. The Lord calls us to not be luke warm. Remember, where ever our treasures are that is where our hearts are also. No exceptions made for art regardless of the form it takes. So, where do we keep our treasures and what forms do they take? See my July 20, 2007 Post for additional thoughts on this subject.

"I Didn't Expect To Die In Class Today."

Last Friday literally thousands and thousands of elementary and high school students in China went to school not knowing that it would be their last day on earth. Instead of learning new knowledge about life, science, art, music, language, themselves, the culture they were born into, they found themselves in seconds not on the earth but in it. Can you imagine the entire population of Maple Grove Senior High School, Osseo Senior High School, Maple Grove Junior High School, and Osseo Junior High School, along with ALL of the feeding elementary schools perishing in a few moments? What would the scene look like with desperate Maple Grove and Osseo "soccer mom's" frantically racing around the rubble of Fernbrook or Rice Lake elementary schools crying out for their children in a hopeless effort to resurrect the dead? Would they be complaining about how slow the fire department is? Would lawyers be handing out business cards assuring them that they will get their day in court, that they have rights? Probably the firemen are dead...the moms too. Even the fathers are gone. I can not grasp this. I can not feel what is happening. It is impossible to do. Pictures show me, words inform me, but there is no sound, no smell, no screams. So, I pray. 50,000 humans dead within moments and I feel so little. When the earth shakes like it did last Friday...what is there to stand upon?

A Picture Worth One Thousand Words!

"Michelangelo's famous statue of The David returns to Italy this week after a successful 12 week, 20 city tour of the USA."

This joke in photographic form could lead to a discussion on the affects of bad habits and sin in our lives more than fifty paragraphs I could write. I hope that you are not offended by Michelangelo. If you are...take it up with him and the Italians.

Viewing The Woman At The Well

"Some children see Him lily white, the baby Jesus born this night. Some children see him bronze and brown, the Lord of Heaven to earth come down..." Those words are part of a song made popular back in the late 1970's and early 1980's by a young woman by the name of Evy. Her last name at this time escapes me. Perhaps it is Evy Erickson? May be... I had the privilege of speaking to the junior high Oasis youth group two Sundays ago and my subject was spiritual thirst taken from the Gospel of John, chapter 4 when Christ met a Samaritan woman at Jacob's well while he was traveling. I always like to place a picture above my posts to help get a reader's attention and make points stick a little better in our minds. I was on the web and found this picture and immediately fell in love with it. I think my reading about civil rights history this last month has made me significantly more sensitive to racial and perspective issues. When I thought of Evy's song the "thought circle closed and became complete." How do you see that Samaritan woman? How do you see Jesus?


I try not to think of what Jesus looked like physically. I try to understand his heart more thoroughly. Certainly he looks to my heart and makes judgment. Better it is then to look at the character and nature of Christ's heart than to contemplate what he might have physically looked like. One can not know what he looked like, only speculate. Through the study of Scripture we can know what Jesus' heart contained. Many try to imagine his appearance, type him a certain way. Often this is done for political reasons. Sometime, like the picture above, to instruct. I have seen a special on the Discovery Channel where a forensic anthropologist worked to make a clay model of Christ's face using computer analysis of Semitic genetic norms. Interesting attempt, I guess, but why the search? why define and solidify the image of a face when it is the limitless content of a all loving heart that actually matters? I've decided that if I am to see, or have to see Jesus in my mind, not just his face but his entire body, I want him to be black. By having that image it forces me to address the prejudices that I harbor inside of me, some placed there by my culture, some allowed in by my choices and sins.


Back to Jacob's well and thirst; if I can see Christ as a black man of African heritage can I see myself as a woman at a well? Hummm. Seems to me that this is a broader and more dangerous leap than thinking of Christ as racially different than me. Now I have a gender barrier to over come. Let's take this to a more challenging level. Christ is a black man, a very large and ebony skinned black man with rippling muscles and chiseled forehead, and I am a white woman at the well.. alone. Wow! That is certainly a "charged" image. Can I hear Jesus' words now? Would I be able to accept his "agape" considering prejudice and fear? Can I, a grown man, surrender to this image? Can you? Will I still be able to understand my true thirst? My real needs?


A gentle man from our church by the name of Mark Peterson loves to look at the night sky through his telescopes. He has a number of them and was actually building his own, including the making of his own mirror. Mark is pretty bright. It is kind of scary that there are people out there that are that smart. But, despite his very imposing brain, Mark has been a real blessing to me, an instructor full of grace. One time he asked me over to his home to watch a three quarter moon through one of his telescopes. He explained that a partial moon shows more definition and detail as shadows give the image more depth through the telescope. A full moon will look flat and dimensionless. It was a beautiful and clear summer night. The only objection I had to it was the bugs. That is Minnesota for you. As I looked at the moon through his instrument I noticed that it was an upside down image of what I was looking at when using the naked eye. He was using a lens that was of low magnification. When I pointed this out he calmly said, "No it isn't." I looked again into the eye piece, again at the moon with my own eyes and said, "Yes it is." Again he calmly said, "No it isn't." I was about to make some joke about how limited he must be, but something reminded me of how smart Mark was, so I held my tongue and asked, "Really?"


Mark proceeded to bring out an aluminum briefcase that had about eight or nine different eye pieces all with progressively increasing powers of magnification. He gently replaced the 5X with a 10X and told me to look again. The moon was definitely closer. He placed a 20X eye piece on the telescope and sure enough the moon got closer and more detail started to show up. He added a 30X and then 50X. Suddenly I was no longer looking up at the moon, I was no longer looking at it right side up or up side down. I was standing on the earth but was looking down at the moon as if I were in an airplane or arriving there in an Apollo space capsule. My perspective went from standing to flying, from gazing up to looking down. My thoughts, my vision of the moon, and my relationship to it was substantially modified. I was somehow different. I no longer had feet, arms, body. There was no this way or that way, left or right, wrong or correct view. Somehow I traversed beyond an invisible line separating me from the moon and it all became new and fresh. What was left was my mind, my soul, and God's moon. His entire creation before me as I floated mentally from crater to mountain range to arid plain. I became free and understood a new truth about life. I have thanked Mark many times for that lesson on perspective. He was so gracious and so pleased to share. And yes, technically speaking, the image through the eye piece was inverted by the mirror relative to where I was standing and the nature of my body's optic system. But, if Mark had simply said to me, "Yes, it is inverted," I would have learned nowhere near as much as I did that night because he stretched me and my thinking ever so gently.


All that happened so long ago was that a man met a woman at a well and she drew water for him. Or...perhaps much more.


I think this is what God does all the time with His Word. I am personally thankful for the teachers he has put in my life including Evy and the artist who created the beautiful picture above. God wants us to look deeply. He wants us to release many of our preconceived notions about reality. He wants to set us free. Relative to His being we are inside out and upside down. I think we need to "let go" more and more to better hear, understand what God has to say to us.