WLSU - Back At It

There’s a famous story of Jesus going to the top of a mountain with three of his closest disciples. Right in front of them all his clothes turn dazzling white, Moses and Elijah show up, the three of them talk for a little bit and then God shows up in a cloud and says Jesus is his beloved son. It’s a miraculous, otherworldly moment. Transfiguration. Theophany. Camaraderie. Revelation. Divine validation. It’s all there.

And then Jesus heads down the hill.

Pretty much the moment he returns to civilization he is surrounded by people who want something from him. One man has a child who is possessed by a demon and he even complains to Jesus, “Your disciples tried and failed to help my son.” And Jesus heals the boy, because he’s Jesus and of course he does – but before the healing, he grouses about it. “You faithless generation!” he blusters, “how much longer must I be with you?” Tough words from the all-loving Son of God.

It's unclear if Jesus is referring to his disciples who couldn’t drive out the demon after all the time he’d trained them, or to the upset father, or to the whole crowd. What’s clear is Jesus is fed up. He’s just had this glorious mountaintop retreat experience, and now he’s confronted with the reality of the work he still has to do and, yes, at least a little bit of a sense of futility about that work. Jesus is like so many of us in the first week of January.

Here we all are, emotionally hungover from the beautiful haze of the holiday season. So much planning and traveling and visiting and hosting and partying and wrapping and gift giving. So many expectations – some met, and some frustrated. We’re wondering if we’re really supposed to get back to life and work as usual. As I write these words, I am surrounded by decorations still needing to be boxed up, and a tree that in a few days will be stripped of its ornaments and hauled to the curb. But right now I’ve got to do all the normal work things. All those people to whom I said, “Let’s check in after the New Year,” well, it’s the New Year, and it’s time to check in.

My kids were not at all interested in going back to school. My daughter, in particular, was livid because they scheduled the first day back to cruelly coincide with her birthday. She thought maybe it was a conspiracy.

She doesn’t hate school, and you probably don’t hate your work, your commitments, your normal routine. But the dread of returning to it, of putting back on real pants, and eating reasonably, and basically just acting like a civilized human in this world again, sometimes just feels like too much.

And what I think I want to tell you today is not just that that’s normal or that it’s ok, but that it might even be a little holy.

Irish theologian and writer Peter Rollins has pointed out that Jesus expresses doubt in God when on the cross. “My God! My God! Why have you forsaken me?” Jesus cries out. Rollins goes on to say that if Christians are serious that Jesus is himself God, this moment does not contradict that idea, but makes it more powerful: If Jesus is God and Jesus expresses doubt and abandonment then, Rollins reasons, God has experienced feelings of doubt and abandonment. And that means those feelings aren’t sinful. In fact, if God experiences doubt, then doubt must be holy. Jesus, in his actions, hallows doubt. There is something holy about doubting God. There must be. Jesus has done it.

I don’t think this is a small point. For the Christian, Jesus is God. And for the Christian, God does not make mistakes. As annoying as it is for us to acknowledge sometimes, our doctrine is that God, even when inscrutable and mysterious, is not wrong. God is holy.

I am persuaded by Rollins’ argument. Doubt is not an unfortunate byproduct of our faith, but a holy part of it. Feelings of abandonment by God, wondering if we have been forgotten or forsaken, are not signs that we don’t have enough faith. Who would say Jesus didn’t have enough faith? When we experience doubt we are closer to God than we think.

And that feeling of dread we have as we descend from the mountaintop of Christmas and return to normal life with all its anxieties and frustrations? That’s holy too. We don’t need to feel guilt about it. We also don’t need to worry that it means something deeper. Sometimes real life is hard.

“How much longer am I going to have to do this?” Jesus grumbles about his job, about his vocation, about his life’s work. And when I get over being offended that he’s basically saying he’s tired of dealing with people like me, I’m really comforted by Jesus’ outburst. I am. Because it hallows my own malaise.

Jesus experiences the full range of human emotions and decides to carry on with his work of saving us all. What if I took that seriously? What if I didn’t see Jesus as an impossible example? What if I didn’t see God as constantly policing my emotions? What if my daughter’s bad attitude about going to school on her birthday is perfectly holy?

Jesus sticks around, by the way. He complains. And then he sticks around. He gets frustrated and annoyed and tired and he questions it all. But he stays with us through everything. Jesus is not always chipper. But he is always faithful.

So feel however you’ve got to feel right now. God is with you in it. There’s holiness in whoever you are and however you are right now.