Chronicles, Forged in Fire: A Reflection on Justice and Sainthood

 

There was a life that I used to live that no longer exists. Memories of portions of it I cherish and forever will; other parts, I’m amazed actually were mine. How did I endure that? How did I do that? The things I did and the things done to me-

Well, the good news is, they are over now. They are done, and I am okay.

There is little in this world that we can control, but a constant choice I have is how I will respond to every situation and to reality. What I’ve discovered is that there are ample people who understand grace and understand mercy to a degree sufficient enough to catch me, or anyone, when I/we humble ourselves, admit mistakes, and ask for help.

I’ve allowed myself familiarity with the words I was wrong; I am sorry, and please forgive me. I also practice saying “I forgive you” even when its said only in my head and not to anyone owning up to anything done against me. There is freedom from guilt, from shame, from lies. There is a possibility for new life that depends on other people and life’s circumstances not at all.

I think about injustices I have endured, from the small to those quite large. I think about the truths that are not known by everyone. Currently I’m making my way through Bryan Stevenson’s Just Mercy, again. I have to take it in chunks because the injustice chronicled is often too much to face. The world is not often fair. God is just, but the world is not. These things are not easy to accept at times because there is a desire for justice for all that pervades my entire body. That is the God’s Kingdom come, and it is not here yet.

I can accept my own injuries more easily when considering those who have endured similarly or so much worse and gone before me. The spearhead of the Christian faith was unjustly condemned by a court of law and sentenced to death, forsaken by God, and yet entirely innocent. Unfortunately, a great deal of those who call themselves Christians and say they want to live more Christlike daily forget this bit of history. I blame that on the health and wealth, prosperity gospel that permeates so much of the heretical “Christianity” filling up the walls of our mega-churches, pop-culturally relevant church plants, Christian-cults, NPD-infused pastor-celebrity scenes, and corporations that have become of a great many well-intentioned church-planting denominational movements. As well, it is easier to forget the reality of scriptural faith and what it looks like when faith lived out well requires the production of fruit which is grown in the sorrows of discomfort. Orthodox Christianity is a life that when lived well and rightly produces martyrs. It was never sexy, but rather attractive because of the communion it offered and the community, the mercy to the broken and used up and repentant, not the flashing lights, latest tech, coolest clothes, and branding or those who wield the largest swords, throw the swiftest punches, or hold the heaviest checkbooks.

Ironically, the injustice and the deaths we die at the hands of liars and unrighteous accusers are the things that develop our characters, make us who we are, make us ninjas, or those who endure. Who is Jesus without the death and resurrection? What is Christianity? It is void of all power and all promises of hope and redemption or restoration.

Taylor Swift released a new song where she thanks Kim Kardashian, not specifically, but those who followed E!, Hollywood, or any celebrity blogger knows what she means. For the things that KK put her through, Swift writes that she is thankful because in part they made her who she is. I relate. I’m proud of the woman that I have become because of the things I have survived in life. I proud of the woman I have become because of the choices I have made afterward, in response to, and dealing with or cleaning up the poor choices I made previously, as well as, of course, the poor choices made against me. I’m proud of the mother that I am, most like the mother I always wanted to be and longed to be and strived to be. I’m proud that I am strong, and even when afraid, that I am courageous.

There are obstacles that exist regardless of where we are at in our lives, or where we go. One way or another, the ground will fight back against us. That is a promise found early on in Scripture. A product of human choice, a product of pride and fear, original sins, these fight will not cease in this life at least. Nevertheless, there is enough support available to warriors to survive if only, by the grace of God, we can hurl ourselves up to take hold of it. Lies will be told about us. People will believe lies. Bad things will happen. Life won’t be fair, but there will be enough people to love us, enough people to treat us well, to remind us of our worth, and to stand by us, holding our hands and helping us care for our wounds in the context of community and in communion. There will be enough truth, and what matters is that we believe it. If only we have the faith to keep going, not to give up, to wait for the light even when darkness pervades, we will make it out with our lives, until time we do lay them down and complete our races which have been set before us. But even that day is not ours to choose. Our choice is how to live and live well.

One last word to myself and word to the wise: we cannot put our hope in people to save us. God or the universe will surely use people to come to our aid, but trust is something we must be careful when extending to others. Instead, we must trust first the faith that holds us up, and we must trust ourselves in relation to that faith, what we know to be truth, and what has happened. While it is a fact that no man is an island and can exist without trusting another, in the end, we must realize what humans are and what they are not. In this world, to be honest, to be selfless, to love a person more than we love ourselves, to be faithful, and to put a person before ourselves is tragically difficult for most. Pesky pride and frantic fear threaten what is righteous at every corner, and many times when one musters up the courage to be brave, he is met with peer pressure to be anything but that from those even less emotionally healthy or grounded in stable identity. Selfishness is the simplest trap in which to fall, and being blind is unfortunately the state of the lot. But if we give our hopes and hearts to One who is greater than ourselves and an ethic devoid of self-service while rich with self-respect and valuation, we can trust to be sustained and that provision will somehow be provided to keep up alive so long as is our life on this earth. We won’t be left alone if we can stoop low enough to crawl under our egos and get help, and strong enough to endure the hard work that it takes to get back up every time a person or circumstances outside of our control cuts us off at the knees. “It” may not be easy, but every “it” can get easier, and our bodies and souls will develop the callouses needed to hold us firm while also maintaining the tenderness and supple-ness to grow in generosity and compassion, in empathy and understanding. That is the miracle, the holiness, the image of God.

And in time, we will become proud of who we are not because of what we have done for ourselves or can do but because of how we have handled all that has been… and we will become sure of our faith and acceptance with those who truly love us and the Author of our faith, and that very faith, which has somehow, even when at its thinnest, sustained us will become that which births our hope in an enduring cycle of a life of saint-in-the-making. These things cannot be taken away. They cannot be broken. They are impenetrable and characteristic of someone being created to live eternally regardless of what anyone does or says to or about him or her, his or her body, mind, life, or anything.

I used to live a life that nearly killed who I was made to be. I’m thankful I’ve chronicled it all so I cannot forget and so that I can recall the process of being made new. I made the choice to let that old life die and to lay in the dust even the reputation I wanted as well as my ability to control what other’s believed or would believe about me. I accepted that enough was the truth and where God let it be known, not where I chose to tell it. I accepted my responsibilities and learned how to live differently and in the present. I survived a life that nearly killed me and was birthed into one that cannot be taken away by anyone. Silence me. Kick me out. Turn me away. Lie about me and to me. Break me down. Batter me. Insult me. Mock me. Take from me. I know who I am and who I have become and who has made me, and I know where I’m headed and who waits for me at home. I am not alone, and I do not lack courage, and I will not hate anyone or treat anyone poorly. To do so is not something I can do, not being the person I am, not aligned with the Spirit inside me. Rather, understanding the things I know about myself, about life, about humanity, and about God, my cheek will turn. I will shake off the dust. I will get up, walk away, and carry on, and I will forever have a relationship with the One for whom I was made and who sustains all that has been, ever was, and is to come. Amen.