Order and Chaos: A Biblical Warning

In the Book of Genesis, God is pictured creating the world by wrestling with nature.  The world is not created out of nothing.  There is water and God separates the waters from the waters to create order. Nature in the Bible is chaotic until God shows up and creates order.  Such is the nature of nature and the nature of human nature.  It can be inconsistent and unreliable.  Throughout the Biblical stories, God wrestles with nature.  Sometimes God wins. And sometimes God does not.  After all, nature is wild and has no conscience.

Order and chaos in the Bible are mingled.  If chaos is the sense that things are out of control, Biblical characters are aware of the looming possibility and ambiguity of order and chaos.

And it’s certainly true in our own lives.  We crave order, love to see or create patterns, but are aware that chaos is always possible.  We are feeling well but we wonder how long will that last.  We drive our cars but we know accidents can happen.  We make sure to lock our doors at night and our cars when we park because we know about human nature.  We see dentists and doctors for all sorts of ailments hoping to avoid or fix the chaos.  Life is orderly alongside the constant awareness of looming chaos. 

Living in the tension between order and chaos requires courage, the ability to act despite fear.  It requires us to get up each day, take a deep breath and go and meet the day as it meets us.  I wish you well in your contest with order and chaos.  I hope there is a God fighting alongside us, but the Biblical warning is this:  If God had to wrestle with nature and human nature, you and I will not escape it.  But, and here is something to think about: we have been created and are structured with the ability to live in the tension between order and chaos, or at least to help each other do so. And that makes all the difference!

Ash Wednesday: A Jewish Perspective on Lent

This past week, Christians began the six-week vigil called Lent.  Many Christians commence this introspective time with the putting on of ashes to be reminded, they came from dust and to dust they shall return.

Lent is much like the ten-day period between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur.  It is a time to reflect on how you have lived your life during the previous year, for what and from whom you need to seek forgiveness.  Among Jews there is a tradition to not seek God’s forgiveness until you have asked forgiveness of anyone you have hurt during the past year.  So, the Lenten weeks are similar, at least in emphasis, to the Jewish holy days.

But there are differences.  First and foremost, Jews do not put ashes on their foreheads.  Remembering the ashes of the Holocaust gives Jews a sufficient reminder about the reality of death and none more so than the ashes.   

For some Christians, the cross is the culmination of lent. They think the suffering and death of Jesus is the highlight.   But that is not so.  The killing of Jesus is an absurdity and a scandal. No amount of theological glorification can make the cross beautiful or meaningful.   For Christians, Lent is the season that leads to Easter, that moment when God declares, life not death, will have the last word. 

As for Jews, salvation never comes through death.

For Jews, so called “salvation”, being saved from the power of sin, death and evil can only happen when we do everything we can to resist the power of sin, death and evil.  Whatever God and his messiahs are doing, we shall leave to them.

What is Purim?

In a few weeks many Jews will celebrate a holiday called Purim.  The Hebrew word “Pur” refers to lots cast by Haman in the Biblical Book of Esther to determine on which day he would kill all the Jews in the Persian kingdom.  The story goes on to describe how because of the actions of Mordechai and Esther, Haman’s plans are disrupted.  Specifically, on the day he had planned to have the Jews killed, he himself meets his demise. 

Why was the Book of Esther, a book which never mentions God, included in the Bible?  Of course, there are many interpretations.  But, it strikes me that the intent was to emphasize how an attempt to kill Jews was avoided by human courage, to encourage us all to resist evil and to not be indifferent. 

All of us will encounter situations in our lives where we could speak up or do something to oppose what is wrong. As is said in the Esther story, “For if you keep silent at this time, relief and deliverance may rise . . . from another place.  And who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?”

Esther was Esther because she was not indifferent.  Mordechai was Mordechai because he was not indifferent.  As Purim approaches, wherever we live let us not remain silent but do what we can do, what we must do, to stop the craziness.

Is it Wrong to Think You Could Be Wrong?

For years I have had this sign on my office door, “Think that You May Be Wrong.” But I feel obligated to ask myself, what if I’m wrong?   

What if emphasizing doubt over faith makes some people lose their faith?  What if most people are not built to be unsure about what they hold most dear?  What if being confused, lacking trust and living with so many open questions is not healthy for human beings?  What if thinking you are wrong disorients people and makes them feel lost?  What if asking questions which never receive any answers is a waste of time and energy?  What if thinking you could be wrong is just plain wrong?

As I begin a new semester, I am asking myself these questions.  And I am asking myself, if my emphasis on remembering the Holocaust has caused people to be frightened by the human potential for evil and dismayed by the apparent silence or absence of God during that horrific event?

I understand and share these reservations.  But if we are going to be people who live by faith, we are going to have to assume certain risks.  Faith is trusting without knowing for sure.  And when you don’t know for sure there will be moments, times and events in your life when your trust will seem to be misplaced or wrong.  This is life itself causing us to wonder if we could be wrong.  And, by the way, we could be wrong!

So, I get it!  Thinking you could be wrong can be a threat.  But remember, thinking you could be wrong does not mean you are wrong.  It means we are committed to searching for wisdom.  If we are going to be truthful about the fragility of our faith; if we are open to correcting those beliefs that are mistaken, if we can each have a healthy sense of humility, we will realize we could be wrong and it’s not the end of the world.  Hold on tightly to your faith, defend it, but do not be afraid to listen to those who disagree.  And change what needs to be changed.

Having said all that, it remains appropriate for me, at the beginning of another semester, to realize the risks and questions associated with thinking you could be wrong, though those risks and questions are at the very heart of faith and will not go away.

Great Quote from Mark Twain, “It’s not what we don’t know that gets us into trouble.  It’s what we know for sure that just ain’t so.”