Tag: suffering

Pharaoh’s son

~ Jason Kanz ~ Leave a comment 
I once had a pastor tell me, 
"I know your problem; 
You lack courage,"
though it was clear he misunderstood.  
I was setting out on a journey  
into an unknown desert,  
leaving behind all of the things 
that fed my false selves 
the influence,  
the accolades,  
the security,  
the easy community,  
the utterly familiar. 
I walked away from the promise 
of being Pharaoh's son 
because I could not do otherwise.  
I ventured into the desert 
of darkness 
of uncertainty 
of loneliness 
of suffering 
of death 
because the only way to find myself 
was to lose myself.

and it was night

~ Jason Kanz ~ Leave a comment

So after receiving the morsel of bread, he immediately went out. And it was night.-John 13:30

Every time I read the phrase, “and it was night,” my skin tingles. It is ominous. It conveys the sense that there is no turning back. John was not merely writing about the setting sun; he was telling his readers that it was the eve of the darkest day in history. Good Friday.

This band of brothers, so closely tied together, was fracturing. Judas had left. Jesus was troubled. The others were confused and fearful as they recalled their interactions with Judas, hunting for clues. They were replaying everything Jesus had said to them, again hoping for hints.

Night is confusion. Night is darkness. Night is fear. In the opening paragraphs of this epistle, John identified Jesus as the light of the world. Light is hope; darkness is hopeless.

You may know the night too. When the doctor calls you personally and says, “It’s cancer,” it is night. When your child, whom you have poured your heart and soul and guts into, has decided that Jesus isn’t her thing, it’s night. When you have gradually saved your money, trying to be a good steward, and you get a call from the IRS saying that they want to go over your most recent tax returns, it’s night.

Darkness comes to everyone. Life is not always how we want it to be. But even in our darkest nights, Jesus is still light.

Jesus, I cannot imagine what you were feeling that night. Were you afraid? Were you angry? Regardless, you did not leave your friends. Help me to remember that even in the darkest times, you are light. Amen.

*from Notes from the Upper Room: The Devotionals

Broken Ramparts

~ Jason Kanz ~ Leave a comment

I am sad today, hot tears threatening to spill out. My friend shared this song with me earlier, which brought me right to the edge. Over the past few years, my life and my faith have been upended. The carefully constructed ramparts of my faith once allowed me to observe pain and suffering from a safe distance, but I did not know that I had built everything on shifting sand and when everything collapsed, I wandered about in a daze trying to understand how the broken pieces fit together.

In his severe mercy, God has been patiently revealing the reality of suffering, not every day, but in doses I can (barely) handle. Suffering is a universal phenomenon, but I feel its sharp bite most exquisitely when I am brought face to face with the pain I have caused to others, often under the banner of righteousness. I have twisted the truth, betrayed friends, and misused both professional and spiritual position in service to unholy ends and it tears me up inside.

Most days, if I think about who I was becoming, I still question whether I am trustworthy. How can I now claim to live with integrity when my words and actions had become so dis-integrating? How can I be certain that I am not still deluded, unloving, abusive? Maybe someday I will know the answers to those questions, but not today. For now, I will continue to press into my discomfort, seeking to know myself and live from a place of love.

As I thought about betrayal today, I was reminded of my favorite movie, Braveheart. I identify with Robert the Bruce, the presumptive leader of Scotland, who utterly betrayed William Wallace in pursuit of power and position.

Thoughts on a 9/11 morning

~ Jason Kanz ~ Leave a comment

I was pondering 9/11 this morning. It is hard to believe it was 18 years ago. Since then, there has been more fear, pain, brokenness, and division. More disintegration. This is not the way it is supposed to be.

Let me invite you to do something today: put Jesus’s words into practice. He said, “love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” How could you do this today?

1) Take 5 or 30 minutes to spend some time in prayer for those who anger you—terrorists, liberals, conservatives, foreigners, your kids, your spouse, etc. Take an inventory with God and ask him to bless them.

2) Before you share an article about why other people are wrong, slow down and pray. Ask yourself, “am I promoting love or hate? Wholeness or division?”

3) Show compassion for those parts within yourself that are not yet integrated. Thank God for his tender compassion toward you.

Normalcy Reshuffled

~ Jason Kanz ~ Leave a comment

For a while, the reshuffling of normalcy may leave us out of center, askew. You may find yourself a man or woman without a country. That’s where I want you to be so that you can find the country of God. Our old “country” doesn’t make sense; we can’t buy it anymore. We really can’t believe it. We can’t worship it as we were trained to do. Actually, this pattern of falling apart precedes every transition to a new level of faith. If one is not prepared to live in that temporary chaos, to hold the necessary anxiety that chaos entails, one never moves to deeper levels of faith or prayer or relationship with God. Notice again that almost every theophany (revelation of God) in the Bible begins with the warning not to be afraid. The fear is totally predictable; but if we give in to our fear, we will never be able to move to the next level.

Whenever we’re led out of normalcy into sacred space, it’s going to feel like suffering. It’s letting go of what we’re used to. That causes suffering. But part of us always has to die.

-Richard Rohr, Everything Belongs

Disquietude

~ Jason Kanz ~ Leave a comment

Last month, in honor of Eugene Peterson, Fathom Magazine ran a contest inviting folks to submit Psalm paraphrases. Those chosen appeared in this month’s issue and they are excellent. My paraphrase of Psalm 77 was not chosen, but I wanted to share it, hoping it might be a blessing to some. 

I do not hold back my tears from God.
Oh that he would hear my painful wailing,
that he would not be deaf to my disquietude.

In the depths of despair,
when all is blackness,
I grope around for my Comforter.
I strain to reach him, yet my hands come up empty.
How can I rest in peace without him?

Even as I think about him, tears stain my cheeks;
I try to pray, but what’s the use?

Breathe.

My pain blinds me, but you make me see.
Still, my words are held captive by my suffering heart.

I turn my thoughts to the past,
which seems so long ago.
I find my tongue, “Help me to remember joy’s melody!
let your mercy shine light into my darkness.”
I think long and hard.
“Will I always feel rejected by God?
Will he always be disapproving?
Has he stopped loving me?
Has he checked out of my life?
Has he forgotten how much I depend upon his grace?
Must I be crushed by his anger rather than upheld by his love?”

Breathe.

I tell myself, “Remember the past.
Remember God’s goodness to his people.”

Yes, I must recollect what God has done.
I need to recall his never-ending love.
“I will turn my thoughts to every good thing you have done, Father,
and when my thoughts stray, I will turn again to your goodness.
Your way, God, is the right way.
Why do I even consider that anything else compares with you?
You are the wonder-working God.
All I need to do is open my eyes and I can see your handiwork!
Again and again, you have saved your people from impossible situations,
generations have tasted your goodness.”

Breathe.

“When the oceans and the rivers see you, O God,
they retreat in awed surrender.
Even the very depths of the ocean
cannot hide from your glorious might.
At your word, O LORD,
Storms rained upon the earth,
torrents prevailed
lightning assailed
everywhere, accompanied by
thundrous wails.
All creation bowed to your command
winds whirling
with staccato flashes
and booming crashes.
You are the Lord of the lightning
and you are the gentle shepherd.
Your unseen presence
leads your people through life’s storms.”

Prismatic Praise

~ Jason Kanz ~ Leave a comment

Write 31 days, day 12

Writing prompt: praise

What does it look like to live a life of praise? Can we praise in sorrow as well as joy? In celebration and lament? I think about Job sometimes. He faced loss and suffering of mythic proportions. He laid his complaints before God. Did he ever stop praising?

Here’s the thing: I think that sometimes Christians get it in mind that a restricted emotional wavelength is preferable. Joy is welcome. Happiness, sure. Also contentment. We even allow sorrow–for a season, but then we expect it to give way to happiness. Do we believe that God is somehow incapable of handling prismatic emotions? The biblical record corrects us. We see men and women living lives of praise who deal with fear, anger, sadness, grief, and shame as well as joy. Perhaps when we bring all of these feelings before his throne, we truly offer robust praise.

For reflection: as often as you think of it today, ask yourself how am I praising God in this moment.

The Key

~ Jason Kanz ~ Leave a comment

In the shadows I sit
imprisoned in fear,
alone and afraid
year after year.

I wonder alone
will darkness lift?
constant companion
suffering’s “gift.”

I see Jesus coming
carrying a key,
I think to myself
he’ll set me free.

He opens the door
and enters the space,
he sits down with me
tears stain his face.

I ask, “are we leaving?”
He says, “no, not yet.
Your pain continues,
but child, don’t fret.”

He gazes at me
with love in his eyes,
“I’ll be with you
until darkness dies.”