The obituaries this morning were in their usual place on page 2 of the Jamestown Post Journal; death doesn't take a holiday. Christmas came and went, the hospitals didn't disgorge all their patients, the prisons still held their inmates, families were still torn apart by addictions, anger, and abuse. The coming of the Prince of Peace over 2,000 years ago hasn't caused wars to cease or righteousness to blossom.
I have no idea how many times I've waited with a family as a loved one struggled for breath, gasping their way into eternity. Or how often I've fruitlessly counseled a couple whose marriage was in trouble. Or the times I've prayed for healing or reconciliation or employment or whatever, to no avail. Reality and faith square off, and faith takes a beating. That is, if the faith in question is faulty.
We live in a triumphalist society, infused with the conviction that given enough effort and/or luck, we can eventually compel life to conform to our wishes. As Christians, we often impose this American triumphalism upon our faith, expecting Jesus to charge into our circumstances like a superhero, vanquishing all foes, giving us a "happily ever after" ending.
The reality is much different. Christmas...the REAL Christmas...is a story of a God who chose to enter human life in its weakness and failure. The Bible tells us that "the Word became flesh and dwelt among us..." Instead of merely stating that God became human, St. John used the word indicating humanity in its weakness and frailty. God's way of dealing with all the mess and tragedy of humanity was not the way we would do it, sending in the Marines, but by coming alongside us in our struggles and living life as it was intended to be lived, with grace and goodness.
There are times, many times, that I wish God would just wave his magic wand and make everything all right. I wish I didn't have to watch a young mother die, leaving a grieving husband and little babies behind. I wish I didn't have to see my friend fall off the wagon again. I wish I could somehow stop the carnage in the Middle East, in Sub-Saharan Africa, the misery in North Korea. I don't understand God's ways. Were it up to me, I would make things right...right now! But every action we take has its unintended consequences, and the problem of evil is not always as clear as I would like it to be. I cannot neatly divide the world into good and evil, for the dividing line is jagged, and courses through each and every soul, including mine. Doing things my way would not turn out too well in the end, I am sure.
The Scripture says God is merciful, and is giving us time to repent. Of all people, he surely knows how much I need that time, because he knows how much I need that repentance. Tonight, even though at times I wish God would clean this mess up American-style, I am grateful that Christ came as a little baby, in poverty and human frailty, and that his salvation is seen in humility and weakness, for it is there where I spend most of my time, and where I need to meet him each and every day.
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