Anita Mathias: Dreaming Beneath the Spires

Anita Mathias's Blog on Faith and Art

Guilt Causes Paralysis, and Christ’s Forgiveness Rescues us from it

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A haunting passage in Carl Gustav Jung’s memoir, Memories, Dreams, and Reflections, describes a woman from whom horses, dogs and people fled, for they sensed dark guilt within her.

“A lady came to my office. It was apparent that she belonged to the upper levels of society. She had been a doctor, she said. What she had to communicate to me was a confession; some twenty years ago she had committed a murder out of jealousy. She had poisoned her best friend because she wanted to marry the friend’s husband. She had thought that if the murder was not discovered, it would not disturb her. She wanted to marry the husband, and the simplest way was to eliminate her friend. Moral considerations were of no importance to her, she thought.

The consequences? She had in fact married the man, but he died soon afterward, relatively young. During the following years a number of strange things happened. The daughter of this marriage endeavoured to get away from her as soon as she was grown up. She married young and vanished from view, drew farther and farther away, and ultimately the mother lost all contact with her.

This lady was a passionate horsewoman and owned several riding horses of which she was extremely fond. One day she discovered that the horses were beginning to grow nervous under her. Even her favourite shied and threw her. Finally she had to give up riding. Thereafter she clung to her dogs. She owned an unusually beautiful wolfhound to which she was greatly attached. As chance would have it, this very dog was stricken with paralysis.

With that, her cup was full; she felt that she was morally done for. She had to confess, and for this purpose she came to me. She was a murderess, but on top of that she had also murdered herself. For one who commits such a crime destroys his own soul. The murderer has already passed sentence on himself.

If someone has committed a crime and is caught, he suffers judicial punishment. If he has done it secretly, without moral consciousness of it, and remains undiscovered, the punishment  can nevertheless be visited upon him, as our case shows. It comes out in the end. Sometimes it seems as if even animals and plants “know” it. As a result of the murder, the woman was plunged into unbearable loneliness. She had even become alienated from animals.

And in order to shake off this loneliness, she had made me share her knowledge. She had to have someone who was not a murderer to share the secret. She wanted to find a person who could accept her confession without prejudice, for by so doing she would achieve once more something resembling a relation-ship to humanity. And the person would have to be a doctor rather than a professional confessor. She would have suspected a priest of listening to her because of his office, and of not accepting the facts for their own sake but for the purpose of moral judgment. She had seen people and animals turn away from her, and had been so struck by this silent verdict that she could not have endured any further condemnation.

Sometimes I have asked myself what might have become of her. For that was by no means the end of her journey. Perhaps she was driven ultimately to suicide. I cannot imagine how she could have gone on living in that utter loneliness.” (Memories Dreams Reflections, Carl Gustav Jung, p 122)

Unconfessed, hidden guilt extracts a terrible psychic price.

* * *

And guilt, unconfessed, unforgiven can lead to terrible paralysis, literally or metaphorically.

Which brings me to Jesus’ fascinating encounter with the paralytic (Matt 9: 1-8). He says, “Take heart, son. Your sins are forgiven.”

Challenged by the Pharisees, he turns from the root cause to the manifestation and says, “Get up, take up your mat and go home.”

And the man does so.

* * *

A healthy spiritual life requires the daily practice of confession and receiving forgiveness. “Forgive us our sins,” the Lord’s Prayer teaches us to say. And, equally importantly, he teaches us to extend the self-same forgiveness to others.

Otherwise, terrible guilt we have not confessed and asked forgiveness for, or terrible sadness and anger at the effect of others’ sin upon us can leave us “paralysed.”

* * *

Paralysed? There are many 21st century manifestations. A deep sadness or depression or anxiety, that renders it impossible to move on, to pursue meaningful action, to pursue dreams. These mental disorders affect 26.2 of the US population in any given year, according to the National Institutes of Mental Health, and 25% of the British population every year, according to the Mental Health Foundation (to look at stats from the two countries I’ve boomeranged between for the last 29 years).

Eastern State Hospital was a massive psychiatric hospital at the edge of Williamsburg, Virginia, where I lived for 12 years. A Christian psychiatrist, who worked there, famously said that if people would accept God’s forgiveness, and so be absolved from their guilt, Eastern State would be almost empty overnight. I believe it.

 

* * *

I recently was overwhelmed with sadness and guilt over my actions. A member of my family had wanted something very badly, and I did not support them fully, partly because I was sure they would achieve it without my active hovering, and partly because I was absorbed and abstracted by my own work. And their big break did not initially work out.

I was so sad, so paralysed by guilt and sadness for a few days. Tossing and turning in the night, I “heard” these words, “Your guilt is taken away, and your sin atoned for.” (Isaiah 6:7). (One of the benefits of stocking your mind with Scripture is that it surfaces in your hour of need!)

I sighed with relief. My guilt had indeed been taken away, and my sin atoned for by Jesus, wondrous but true news.

I had to accept this complete forgiveness, akin to the forgiveness a father offers a toddler who smashes a crystal goblet or scribbles on an antique first edition. I had to accept it from God, and from the individual.

And after, again, expressing my sorrow to God and the person whom my actions had affected, it was time to “get up and walk,” smiling as one whose guilt had been taken away and sin atoned for.

Thank you, Jesus.

You of Little Faith, Why are you so Afraid?

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In a familiar, beloved passage, Jesus gets into a boat, and “a furious storm came up, so that the waves swept over the boat.” But Jesus continued sleeping.

The disciples in panic wake him up, “We are going to drown.”

And he replied, ‘You of little faith, why are you so afraid?’ Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves and it was completely calm.” (Matt 8:23-27).

* * *

In The Divine Conspiracy, Dallas Willard comments that Jesus probably invented the term  oligopistoi, “little-faiths,” which would have had a little comic tinge to the ears of his hearers. “Oligopistoi, “little-faiths,” seems to have been a nickname that he invented as a way of gently chiding his apprentices for their lack of confidence in God and in himself.”

* * *

I want to live in such a way that Jesus will never have to say to me

“You of little faith, why are you afraid?” Whatever I am, I do not want to be an oligopistos, a little faith! And it lies in my hands.

 I want to be aware of the flow of my thoughts, any anxiety and fear which bubbles up. I want to capture my fears, surrendering them to Jesus.

* * *

I had a serious shock recently in which something big I wanted, and prayed for, and totally believed would happen did not happen.

Ah, I realised again, “Do not put faith in your prayers. Put your faith in God. Put your faith in the goodness of God.”

Your heart’s desire is a million times more likely to materialise if you pray steadfastly for it, (Mark Batterson says it’s partly because prayer activates the reticular activating system) but focusing on the objects of your prayer can, ironically, be a distraction from focusing on God, the tremendous lover.

And because of his goodness, we will not be afraid, whether all our prayers are affirmatively answered, or not.

* * *

What does living with much faith and little fear involve?

Well, here’s a practical  recent example: At the moment, we are earning enough to live on, and I can plough ahead with my writing which is what I have always wanted to do.

However, I sometimes toy with the idea of a specific (and I think) brilliant business venture which would bless many people (but would take time and energy aware from my writing, could be a distraction and source of annoyance and hassle, and potentially “pierce me with many griefs” in Paul’s phrase).

So though I could rationalise this distraction (Stephen Pressfield of The War of Art calls it the resistance) saying, “Well, interest rates may not always be so low; we should bulk up our savings,” I will instead say: “I will not be of little faith.  The God who helps me now will help me if interest rates go up.”

Do you see how faith is a blessing, an immense time-saver, and frees you to live your life aligned with God’s calling on it?

* * *

When I realise I am afraid, or doubt that God will come through for me, I will not look at my fear; I will look at Christ. I will not doubt his goodness.

And as fear rises, I will ignore it, focusing instead on the face of him who can rebuke the wind and the waves so that all is completely calm.

He will calm every storm he chooses, and will sleep in my boat, peaceful and content, though the others.

And I will train myself to remain tranquil through my storms, for my Saviour is in the same boat as I am.

 

 

In which Jesus Commands us Not to Judge

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Do not judge because I am the Judge, not you.

Do not judge because your quick judgement cuts you off from my flow of goodness and mercy.

Do not judge because I am the positive, creative one; your negativity cuts you from me.

 

Do not judge because you are not that smart; you see only in part.

Do not judge because your own experiences colour your sight.

Do not judge because you see men’s public failures, but not their secret victories, the hidden good they did, or the hidden evil they stopped short of.

Do not judge because you know nothing of people’s shaping, crippling childhoods.

 

Avoid those snap, imperfect judgements.

They shut you off from opportunities to learn, to see and to be kind.

Remain open. Ask me to let you see people as I see them–and as they really are.

 

Do not judge because your judgement is confining. People will find it hard to transcend it.

Do not judge because Satan is the accuser of the brethren, and you do not want to resemble him.

 

Do not judge. Keep your mind open in mercy; don’t snap it shut in judgement.

 

Do not judge, because this is an inexorable law I have set in motion: In the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.

As you wish for mercy, offer it. As you wish to be assessed kindly, do not judge.

* * *

 But Jesus, assessing people is a life-skill. I would be a sheep among wolves if I did not know how to read people.

When you must assess people—look at the fruit of their lives. Their children are a testimonial; how they treat those less important than themselves; the peacefulness of their demeanour; how they respond to reverses, and to their enemies; the things they value; the tensile strength of their relationships.

* * *

 But use your tendency to swift, harsh judgment as a means of growth. See if you do the same thing. When the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eyes bothers you, see if you have a plank in your own eye.

Ask my help to remove it.

So will you use your instinctive tendency to judgement to grow, and to transcend your own weaknesses (which, ironically, will, often be in the very area in which you so swiftly judge).

 

Invite me into your eyes so that you will be able to see people as I see them. Invite me into your mind, as that you will be able to read people as I do.

The Earth Belongs to Those who Take Time to Enjoy It

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 Part II of my extended meditation on The Meek Shall Inherit the Earth. Here’s Part I.

Do the meek really inherit the earth? 

“The earth,” or την γην, ten gen, to the Jewish mind signified the beloved land, Eretz Israel, the promised, longed-for land of Canaan.  It was used “as a proverbial expression to denote any great blessing, perhaps as the sum of all blessings,” (Barnes’ Notes on the Bible).  So the meek inherit it all, the whole enchilada.

Indeed, some Bible commentaries suggest that meekness contributes to success, even economic success. And I believe this paradox is true!

 The value of meekness, even in regard to worldly property and success in life, is often exhibited in the Scriptures. It is also seen in common life that a meek, patient, mild man is the most prospered. An impatient and quarrelsome man raises up enemies; often loses property in lawsuits; spends his time in disputes and broils rather than in sober, honest industry; and is harassed, vexed, and unsuccessful in all that he does. Barnes’ Notes on the Bible.

“These meek ones are happy, even in this world. Meekness promotes wealth, comfort, and safety, even in this world.” Matthew Henry’s Commentary.

Hmm… Are there other benefits of meekness?

Meekness produces peace. It is proof of true greatness of soul. It comes from a heart too great to be moved by little insults. He that is constantly ruffled; that suffers every little insult or injury to throw him off his guard and to raise a storm of passion within, is at the mercy of every mortal that chooses to disturb him. He is like “the troubled sea that cannot rest, whose waters cast up mire and dirt.” Barnes’ Notes on the Bible

Meekness is essential for marital harmony and long continued friendships. A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger, Prov. 15:1.  I look back and wonder how many of our marital quarrels could have been averted by a mild answer? How many friendships would I have saved?

And Even Fairy Tales Sing It: The Meek Inherit the Earth

The deep wish, or the deep truth, that the meek inherit the earth is embedded in myth and fairy tale: think of Beauty, Cinderella, Snow White or Psyche.

In Scripture, in fairy tales and in real life, there is a special favour and protection extended to the youngest, who is generally the meekest, the gentlest, the least powerful, the most innocent, and the most in need of protection. Kindness to the meek comes instinctively to most human beings and is encoded in our natures (though not in everyone’s: there are bullies, among Christians as well as non-Christians).

In fact, the Earth belongs to those who have time for it

Isaiah saw the Lord, high and lifted up, while the seraphim flew around him and cried, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty; the whole earth is full of his glory.”

 It throbs with it. It sings with it.

And to whom does this glorious earth belong?

Not to those who own hundreds of its acres but lack the time to step out in them.

Not to those who are so preoccupied with acquiring or maintaining their possessions that they have no time to enjoy in the great simple gifts given unasked: sunrise and sunset, maples blazing in autumn, the moon sailing through winter skies, daffodils and bluebells in spring, and late summer evenings, when the world is golden.

The earth belongs to those who have the time to enjoy it.

It’s not necessary to own land to enjoy it; you just need to be out in it, with a quiet heart, not one anxious or distracted.

The earth belongs to those who have time for it: to observe it, admire it, love it, and walk out on it.

The earth belongs to those whose heart is calm and stilled so they are able to slow down and appreciate the beauty of the earth, the ever-changing canvas of the skies, which, day by day, hour by hour, silently proclaims the glory of God.

And, mysteriously, Scripture tells us that the meek will inherit this earth. In a way we do not understand, it will be given to them.

                                                                                     * * *

The meek inherit the earth is one of Jesus’s apparently lunatic propositions like “Give and you shall receive, full measure, pressed down, flowing over.”

What kind of math is this? Addition by subtraction, gaining by losing, cracking yourself open like a grain of wheat to gain a mighty harvest.

It is the mysterious mathematics of the Kingdom of God, in which everything happens because of the X Factor, the secret power of God.

And that is the only way these paradoxes work: that in giving, we receive full measure; and that one might be mild and gentle, and still “inherit the earth.”

Religious people are sometimes accused of checking their brains by the front door. In this case, yes, I guess I am doing it.

I am taking it on faith that the meek inherit the earth because Jesus says they do, and whenever I have experimented with his words I have discovered that he is, indeed, absolutely right.

Read Part III here.

An excerpt from my ebook and paperback The Meek Shall Inherit the Earth available on kindle and paperback on

Amazon UK

Amazon.com

 

 

 

The Meek Shall Inherit the Earth

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I looked at the programme for “The Greenbelt Festival: Where Faith, Arts and Justice” collide, and blinked at the title of a talk: “The Meek Shall Inherit the Earth.” The description read:  Based on the story of Naboth’s vineyard as a perennial tale of land and dispossession. The presentation takes us into the temple with Isaiah as he reaches the depths of despair, to the outer court of the temple as Jeremiah denounces the king, to the Peruvian rainforest as the army confronts indigenous people and to the Scottish Highlands as the people are cleared from the land to make way for sheep. It ends on the hillsides of Galilee”. 

* * *

I was startled: What?

“Does anyone really believe that the meek inherit the earth?” I asked my husband, Roy.

Roy said, “Well, Jesus said they did.  If you believe the words of Jesus, you’d believe it.”

Oh! I see.

These paradoxes are, indeed, a golden thread running through the teaching of Jesus: Those who give -time, energy, money- receive far more than they have given. Seed sown yields an exponential harvest. The greatest is she who blesses other people. Those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who can take the lower place will be exalted by God.

* * *

But, you see, I once was young and now am middle-aged, and so my initial reaction is, “What? The meek inherit the earth?”  Well, if that’s true, then perhaps I didn’t understand “meek,” “inherit” or “the earth!”

And so I settled down with a Bible, a journal, and a thermos of green tea for some deadly serious Jesus-and-me time.

Because what I believe about these questions is crucial: Do the meek inherit the earth, or don’t they? Is what Jesus says true, or isn’t it?  My answers will determine the direction of my life and how I live it.

So what is meekness?

Meekness is a quality of soul and character, unrelated to economics, social status or education. The New Testament word “meek,” πραεις, praeis, describes those who have a mild, quiet, gentle spirit, in opposition to the proud and supercilious.

 “The meek are those who quietly submit to God; who can bear insult; are silent, or return a soft answer; who, in their patience, keep possession of their own souls, when they can scarcely keep possession of anything else. These meek ones are happy, even in this world,”  Matthew Henry’s Commentary.

* * *

Roy is a mathematician, and has a more logical mind than I do (or so he tells me!) He pointed out that I was puzzled by Jesus’ statement that the meek inherit the earth because I was instinctively equating the meek with the poor. But this is a false equation.

Poverty does not necessarily bring out meekness and gentleness. Friends who worked with Heidi Baker’s Iris Ministries in the bush of Mozambique wrote that though they had brought enough food to distribute, the desperately hungry people fought “like wolves” for the food, so they moved on, without distributing what they had.

Jan Sassenberg who works in Sierra Leone, one of the poorest countries in the world, wrote in a guest post on my  blog “Dreaming Beneath the Spires” of being “overwhelmed by the vastness of the suffering around us. Children beaten mercilessly and dying needlessly.”  

In contrast, we noticed during a recent holiday in Sweden, one of the richest countries in the world, that children were brought up affectionately and with good humour. (Sweden was, incidentally, in 1979, one of the first countries in the world  to outlaw the spanking of children.)

The poor are not necessarily the meek. These countries lead the world in homicide rates—Honduras, El Salvador, Venezuela, Guatemala, Belize, Columbia, Trinidad, South Africa, and Brazil. The most dangerous countries for women are Afghanistan, The Democratic Republic of Congo, Pakistan, India and Somalia.  And when it comes to physical abuse and economic exploitation of children, the worst countries include India, Nigeria, Zambia, Sri Lanka, Indonesia, Thailand, Cambodia, Myanmar, Vietnam, and Laos. All these countries have a low per capita income.

Poverty can bring stress, anxiety, bitterness, jealousy, and increased temptations to dishonesty. It can also bring empathy, gratitude, an appreciation of simple pleasures, family bonding and closeness.

Some very poor people are meek and gentle, and some are not, just as some rich and successful people are meek and gentle, and some are not. I have met humble, gentle people at High Table in Oxford Colleges and at Oxford’s magical garden parties—as well as, of course, the opposite. And I have met prickly, arrogant poor people—as well as, of course, the opposite.

Why should I be meek?

Because I am a Christian, and Jesus wants to teach us meekness so our souls may find rest. “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” (Matt 11 28-30).

And rest is one of the pearls of great price in life. These include: health, love, friendship, fascinating work, and enough money to live a stimulating culture-filled, low-hassle life.  And mental peace, shalom.

Without inner peace and well-being, shalom, one cannot fully enjoy the rest of these.

And Jesus promises–to those who are meek and humble like him–the rest and peace we need to enjoy the earth.

                                                    * * *

Meekness, like humility, is an abstract concept, best understood and  illuminated by its opposite.

The opposite of humility is pride.  Pride steals our rest and peace. It makes entertaining stressful. Wastes time and money in the effort to keep up appearances and impress. Leads to conflict in trivial things. It makes us overwork. It blights creativity with perfectionism instead of making peace with good enough. And adds a special twist of bitterness to failure, making it feel like death.

What’s the opposite of meekness? Being pushy, aggressive, loud and overbearing. Self-centred, manipulative, deceitful and scheming.  Would you want to be like that? To achieve your heart’s desires? To gain the whole earth, so to speak.

I would not.  I would loathe “unmeekness” as a way of life.  The stress would not be worth it.

And people instinctively resist the pushy, aggressive and manipulative. Not only do you not find God on your side—for “God resists the proud,” as the Apostle James writes, you may well find the world of men resisting you.

Besides, it is safe to be meek.

There is really no need to be pushy, scheming, manipulative or aggressive.

Why?

Because we live in a world charged with the power of God, and so don’t need to push and shove, manoeuvre and intrigue our way through life.

Because the earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof.

Because the whole earth throbs with his glory.

Because we do not have because we do not ask (James 4:3), and we have but to ask to receive (Matthew 7:7).

Because he can give me what he pleases without my having to scheme how to get or grab it.

Because when I look out for myself, he lets me.

But when I let him look out for me, he lets me, too.

And I know which is better.

* * *

An excerpt from my ebook and paperback The Meek Shall Inherit the Earth available on kindle and paperback on

Amazon UK

Amazon.com

Part II:  The Earth Belongs to Those who Take the Time to Enjoy It.

 

In which Christ Lures us to Secret Prayer, and Promises us a Reward for it.

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 “Come you apart from them and be secret,” Christ calls out to us. (Matt. 6 1-18)

We live in a world governed by “the rules,” described by Brene Brown in Daring Greatly: For women, “be naturally beautiful, thin, and perfect at everything, especially motherhood. Be sweet, stay quiet; be perfect moms and wives; don’t own your power.”

For men: “stop feeling, start earning, climb the way to the top, or die trying. Winning, emotional control, risk-taking, dominance, self-reliance, primacy of work, pursuit of status.”

And in the microcosm of church, do these rules still apply? Sure. Men who are wealthy, successful, dominant are feted, and elected as elders, never mind when they last opened their Bibles, or settled down for a time of prayer. For women, being fit, pretty, well-presented, and a perfect mom and housekeeper has become a subset of spirituality in a way the medieval mystics would not have recognized.

But we also uneasily respect those rare birds in our churches: the prayer warriors, the Bible mavens, the mission freaks. They may not be entirely accepted by the cool Christians to whom Sunday morning services are a respite from a week of getting and spending and managing, but we respect them in the way fifth century Christians respected St. Simon Stylites who spent 37 years on a pillar to escape worldly distractions.

But Jesus does not permit us to use our devotion to him as yet another means of gaining status and attention. He advises: Don’t publicly donate or serve on every board to gain a reputation for philanthropy. You might get the respect shallow people accord the rich if you do so, but not the unspecified (but undoubtedly marvellous) reward which your Father will give you. Give generously, but so secretly that your left hand does not know what your right hand is doing. Give for your Father’s reward, which will be wonderful, whether it be the success you crave, the wealth you need, the family closeness you want, or health, or, best of all, peace.

* * *

Similarly, with prayer.  We might hold sway in prayer meetings, with long prayers whose secret, perhaps unconscious, objective includes impressing people with our soft heart, our passion for Christ, our theological understanding–or even to gossip through the tidbits we drop in, or subtly manipulate people by the things we pray for them. And people may be impressed by our long prayers. And that is all the reward we get. Pretty paltry, huh?

But what if we waste time with God, and–instead of earning, organizing, working, networking, promoting ourselves–spend time in prayer so secretly that no one knows, and no one will guess?

We get God’s reward.

Again, unspecified, but I think it will be really, really cool. It will be the right reward for us, and for our lives. He might crown our efforts with success. Grant us health like Caleb, who claimed he was as strong and vigorous at 85 as at 40 (Joshua 14:11).

He might bless our family with love. Deliver us from evil. Make our plans succeed. Guide us.

* * *

When Roy and I were newly-wed and newly committed to Christ, we joined a Christian “young marrieds” group.

Some of those people have soared the heights—were named by Christianity Today as young pastors to watch, became passionate career missionaries. Others just chugged along, same old, same old…

I noticed the same in Christian friends I’ve known for decades. A few have taken enormous spiritual strides, becoming people of wisdom and spiritual wealth with which to bless others; others remained apparently stagnant.

What makes the difference between a passionate Christian and an average one? I used to think it was whether one actually obeyed the “rhema” word of God–when God highlights certain passages of scripture to your spirit, or clearly speaks to you. And that’s part of it.

But the other thing which makes Christians sweet, rather than sour, and a pleasure to be with, like cool spring water on a hot day, is their hidden life of prayer.

Prayer running through the day like a quiet, underground river, guarding your heart, keeping you calm, giving you guidance.

Walking with Christ, an invisible friend, a secret sharer, who will  at crucial times whisper, “This is the way; walk in it.”

And this guidance and direction makes all the difference between one life and another, between a blessed life and another.

* * *

The rewards of prayer include a quieter spirit, a more loving spirit, being saved from sin, God’s blessing, God’s guidance. These  we can guess at.

But perhaps, once it’s all over, and the last curtain falls, we will see all the difference our secret life of prayer made to our actual life amid the hurly-burly. We will see all the blessings that came as a result of our secret life of prayer which we were unaware of; all the things we were saved from; all the times life-changing guidance welled up within our spirits–and how grateful we will be that we cultivated the habit of prayer that grew to be so sweet and necessary that we would have done it for its own sake.

But, in fact, God, who is infinitely generous, had rewarded us for our secret times with him in myriad ways we never guessed at on earth, but now see clearly.

“Do not Resist Evil;” One Way to Heal after Experiencing Evil

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You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.’ But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also.  And if anyone wants to take your shirt, hand over your coat as well.  If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles. (Matthew 5 38-41).

Oh Jesus, how costly your words are.

Recently, when I’ve suffered actual or perceived injustice or annoyance, and have taken up the matter with Jesus, I’ve heard him say, “Let him.” “Let her.”

“Just don’t get entangled with evil, with resistance, with revenge. Let them do what they want to do. I am the ultimate score-keeer, the umpire, who will provide you another coat, and strength to walk the third mile on your own business after you’ve marched two miles carrying the Roman soldier’s gear.”

* * *

If we do not “let them,” if we plot revenge, if we put our emotional hooks in our enemy’s flesh, mentally dragging them behind us everywhere, we get embroiled in an endless tit-for-tat world of malice.

The principle of an eye for an eye, applied in the Code of Hammurabi, Judaism and Islam was neat, merciless, and there an end. But in our more sophisticated societies, what constitutes an eye for an eye is not so easily calculated. People extract revenge in all sorts of ways: gossip, slander, blocking, passive aggression, malice, and pettiness.

Sad for the victim, and sad too for the perpetrator—whose character becomes smaller and meaner and shrivels, becoming increasingly cut off from the waterfall of the grace and power of God. Once we put those who have wronged us on a mental blacklist, unconsciously ready to get even given a chance, we are no longer quite so open to God’s guidance; the presence of the Holy Spirit no longer pulses in our souls.

But what are we to do when we suffer injustice? Because we well might. The enemy of our souls stalks this world, twisting, corrupting, darkening. However, he plays against the Grandmaster who will, of course, ultimately win.

* * *

Let tell you a story of my initial failure and ultimate success in one of my encounters with evil. And about one way I have stumbled on to heal after experiencing evil.

Several years ago, I was wronged, unfairly treated, and humiliated. Because this happened at an extremely vulnerable point in my life, it precipitated an episode of “great sadness.”

A couple of years after that incident, through an unexpected turn of events, I got to “whistle-blow,”—I publicly pointed out a severe dereliction of duty on the part of the person who had unfairly treated me. They resigned from their relatively well-paid sinecurish job.

Quits, huh? This person furiously said to me, “Well, you’ve got your pound of flesh now, haven’t you?” And I childishly replied, “No, what you did to me was far worse.”

But yes, I had got my pound of flesh, plus. However, each time I remembered how I had been treated, my heart burned with indignation at the injustice and shaming. I wanted to do something about it, all over again.  Though, I had already done something. As they said, I had had my pound of flesh. (And eating anger probably did add some pounds of flesh to my frame.)

We will never feel quits, never, because the memory of past wrongs feels fresh again. And at the “re-injury,” we again want to get even, though heck, we’ve already done so in so many petty soul-corrupting ways, damaging our souls, damaging our communion with Jesus, and with his sweet spirit.

* * *

And so for our protection, Jesus tells us not to even try to get even. But we are not to sit all tensed up saying, “I will not take revenge. I will not think of a pink elephant.”

There are other ways for the soul to  heal. One is do good to those who have injured you. And what when our soul cannot yet stretch to that sublimity? When we cannot bring ourselves to do our enemies a good turn?

I am reading Brene Brown’s Daring Greatly.  She quotes psychologist James Pennebaker who says that the act of not discussing a traumatic event or confiding it to another person could be more damaging than the actual event. Conversely, when people shared their stories and experiences, their physical health improved.

In his book Writing to Heal, Pennebaker says, “The act of writing about traumatic experience for as little as 15 or 20 minutes a day for three or four days can produce measurable changes in physical and mental health. Emotional writing can also affect people’s sleep habits, work efficiency, and how they connect with others.”

So then, I write my three morning pages about this particular episode which still made me feel outraged when I thought about it.

* * *

And as I write, I see it wholly, not just all the infuriating bits, but the whole chain of events, including my culpability.

In scripture, a turning point is often marked by the phrase, “But God.”  And unexpectedly, God steps in. As I was able to see those disturbing events more clearly, I was also able to see the good God brought out of them.

He showed me that his loving kindness had been extended to me, though other people may have behaved out of insecurity,  competitiveness, jealousy, malice or in a good old-fashioned power struggle. Augustine writes in his Confessions that his teachers acted towards him in malice or indifference, but God was working too, turning it to good.

I then had been leading and spear-heading something I shouldn’t have been because I was overwhelmed and beside myself in my personal life. I need to get my house in order, literally. I needed to get my business profitable. I need to stabilize my emotions. I needed more sleep, more rest. I needed to write, which I wasn’t doing at all. I needed the desert, which I so chafed against. I needed an Elijah experience of sleeping, eating and resting. I needed to see God in the wilderness like Hagar did. And I needed to emerge from it, strong, leaning on my beloved.

And through my enforced sojourn in the desert, forced on me by these people, I developed my latent entrepreneurial gifts. I established our family business, freeing me to focus on writing. I had time to establish my blog, slowly writing my way to a blogging style which speaks to people. I learnt soaking prayer. I became convinced of the deep love of God for me. My soul healed. And I cut all ties with those toxic people!

God was in the situation, the Grandmaster, putting me in a corner, to rest, to heal, to gather strength for the destiny he had in mind for me. The people who put me in the corner were also pawns in the grandmaster’s hand. Nothing happened to me but what He permitted; nothing, but what He turned to goodness and blessing for me.

Nothing, nothing, happens to you but what God has permitted. Nothing, nothing happens to you that God is unable to turn to good.

Do not resist an evil person. Do not get emotionally entangled with them. If they force you to march a mile, march it. If they take your cloak, shrug it off; let him have it. And then march free, your eyes on your Father, who can give you the cloak you need, the strength you need, whose eyes are on you, who can do anything, for whom nothing is too wonderful.

And Jesus, please give me the grace, if and when necessary, to live my own words—and Yours.

 

Over to you:

Have you experienced evil? How have you healed after that experience?

 

A City Set on a Hill cannot be Hidden: Focus on Working, not Networking

By

The-City-on-a-Hill

So you are going to build a city.

Dig its foundations deep. Pour the concrete. Design your buildings. It’s your city: Put in whatever you like—the Alhambra, the Hagia Sophia, the Sagrada Familia, the Parthenon.  Throw in Notre Dame and Westminster Abbey.

Decorate your buildings as you wish—with the mosaics from Ravenna, or from the Topkapi Palacein Istanbul.

It’s your city. Put in the Pre-Raphaelites, the Impressionists, Botticelli and Raphael. Have your floors inlaid marble from Florence. Have indoor fountains and reflecting pools where goldfish glide.

Throw in chandeliers and floor to ceiling windows. Let your city be full of light.

You are building your city on a hill. It cannot be hidden.

* * *

You will, in moments of lesser faith, read blogs on how to hustle, how to promote your city, how to network, make connections, build a platform.

Oh builder of cities, beware. All these things steal time and focus away from learning the art and craft of city building.

Instead, seek God for the perfect blueprint for your city. Seek his inspiration for each tower and spire, each inlaid marble floor, each wall hung with Persian carpets, and each Tiffany lamp through which light glows.

Unless love runs through your city, and the desire to meet people’s needs for beauty, joy, peace, wisdom or rest, all the promotion and hustling you do will be futile. Nobody will long linger there, buy property there, and stroll through the boulevards under shady lime trees, hand in hand with their lovers.

* * *

There is a kind of networking which is sheer joy—if you connect with people whose work you love, if you praise them honestly, interact with their work whole-heartedly, then you make friends, and this whole city-building business become more joyful.

However, flattering people for their attention; making connections for the good things these connections might bring you; befriending people to use them to promote your work—how can one ask God to bless such endeavours? Oh woman of God, flee these things.

There is a sort of hustling and self-promotion that is practical atheism.  We act as if there is no God who can help people notice our city on a hill. We act as if God does not delight in good work and want people to enjoy it. We act as if God cannot even now give us twelve legions of those who will enjoy our work if we ask him. We forget the power of prayer.

And the worst thing about excessive self-promotion and connection-making? It devours the time and energy that should go into making your rare and beautiful city, set on a hill. So beautiful that at night, when the lights are switched on, and coloured fountains play, people cannot but look up and marvel; their feet itch, they yearn to walk up and explore.

And in spring, they will delight in walking through its gardens of cherry blossoms, and will sit under their shade, and look at the fields of daffodils, stretching as far as the eye can see.

* * *

Besides, the connections which matter will arise organically. Other builders of cities on hills will notice yours, and ask you managed that 150 metre spire without visible support, and you will talk about flying buttresses. And you will ask them what pigments they used for those impossibly large stained glass windows which flood their cathedrals with rainbowed light, and they will tell you.

* * *

God delights in your creativity. Build your city under his eye, as your worship to him, seeking his wisdom, in alignment with his stream of thoughts which outnumber the grains of sand on the seashore.

Let him smile, and say it is very good.

And as for the audience you’d love to have?

Remember, a city on a hill cannot be hidden. It glimmers during the day, and its light shines through the land at night.