Friday, December 30, 2005

Good Grief

I heard someone say awhile back that if you really have passion for someone, and they hurt you, as we've hurt God, there's no such thing as "simple forgiveness" (as in, why couldn't God just forgive, without the cross?) They said they were thinking that all that blood and agony is exactly what it looks like when God forgives.


:(


Wow. Yeah.


I don't know. Advent isn't even over and already I'm into Lent. My circadian rhythm's out of whack - why not the other? This is what's coming my way these days - may as well go with the flow.


I need to get beneath the anger and just stay with the grief as long as it takes, I think. Unresolved grief keeps us forever children. That's been true in my case. So what do I make of the whole deal in the light of Christ?Yeah, I want to go there. It's about time.


I've always been gut-struck by that part of the story, just after his supposedly triumphal entry into Jerusalem and after the crowds have dispersed, where we see Jesus weeping as he beheld the city (Lk 19:41). Rather jarring sequence of events, seems to me.


Palm Sunday is a sad day for the Man of Sorrows. And for good reason. I'm thinking he probably knew the same crowd would be out the following Friday singing a different song. Unrequitted love will break your heart like nothing else. Saddest story in the book. But hearing the songs of praises on their lips - oh how sweet the sound! - but you know better? That'd make anyone absolutely crazy! I can't help but notice he got real irritable right after that - he cursed a fig tree; went postal in the temple. Sounds like a classic guy thing - what I know of anger it often serves as a mask for fear or shame, and even more often for grief. Mix in a little jealousy there and you get fireworks. My take on it is what we're seeing is Jesus coming to terms with the reality of the situation there, and it didn't sit well with him at all. On Thursday he spent a pensive evening with just his closest disciples, but even then the coming betrayals and denials hung over him like a shroud. And that night in Gethsemene, alone with God, sweating blood like tears... even still, he was most gracious that night, Who on the very night he was betrayed broke bread, and said, Take. Eat. This is my body, broken for you... (not at all classic, but rather classy, I'd say).


You've heard the theories, I'm sure. It's said that what he wrestled with there in the garden that night was the coming separation from his Father; or worse, suffering the full force of God's unmitigated wrath that was millennia in the brewing and filling up to overflow. (You know, "Habakkuks oft cited but hasty assertion that God is of purer eyes than to look upon sin...") I don't know about that. Yeah, he did cry out, "My God my God why hast thou forsaken me!" Maybe his Father's rejection was something he wrestled mighily with before accepting, I don't know. Who does. What I'm thinking though is that it's just as possible what he wrestled mightily with there in the garden was having to face up to and endure to the dregs the bald-faced straight-up unmitigated rejection - a total and ultimate rejection with extreme prejudice - of his own people; the people he nevertheless loved so passionately, so dearly, so impossibly. I'm sure he suspected, but I wonder if, like us, he'd rather not go all the way into that awful truth. I don't think Jesus told himself pretty little lies - I think he knew the score.


Can you imagine the torment? Talk about exquisite.


I have to wonder what correlation there may be between his being "despised and rejected of men" and his godforsakenness there at the very end.


"We esteemed him not."


:(


He was in the world

The world was made by him

And the world knew him not.


He came unto his own

And his own

received him

not.


Lord have mercy.


Yes, have mercy. Because I see a correlation - here, now. I'm hooked. Caught in the net. Afraid to ask what's next. Not sure I really want to know.


Just stay with the grief as long as it takes.


Eat the pain. Eat it! Drink all of it. It'll be okay.

12 comments:

Rebecca said...

While meandering about the internet tonight, I thought that you had a blog (kind of a random thought that just popped into my head) so I searched it out. Glad I did.

You really should write more. Well, I don't know about "should"...don't like that word, even thought I use it a lot. Maybe I should (there I go again) say that I wish you would write more.

Grief.

Yeah. And Christmas is all tied up with Lent, in a melancholy bittersweet way.

This post resonated with me. Thanks for writing it.

Anonymous said...

There’s a kind of love, the agape kind I’m guessing, that is grief’s first cousin, in my experience. Awesome place to visit, but don’t know that I’d want to live there. My limbic system isn’t up to it, at least not in this flesh.

:( ?

But the sobering thing is that abandoned and hung out to dry, Jesus still had the presence of mind, (and thought it necessary) to plead forgiveness, even make excuses for his tormentors, for everybody. To me this speaks both of God’s awesome holiness, and Jesus’ imperishable humanity.

Anonymous said...

and…

When haven’t we been abandoned? And by folks who know better! And when the going wasn’t even that tough, lol. Isn’t it the human heart, not God’s, that is cloaked and capricious? But we pour ourselves out anyway, because we can’t help it. You know the drill.

“Good Friday arrived, the sky darkened on time
‘til he almost began to negotiate
She held his head like a baby and said ‘It’s okay if you cry’

Now he wants her to dress as if you couldn’t guess
He desires to impress his associates
But he’s part ugly beast and Hellenic deceased
So she finds that the mixture is hard to deny…”

(Elvis Costello/All This Useless Beauty)

So…

An unexamined life is not worth living, according to Plato. And we’ve been told to seek God with all our hearts. But each of us knows where to quit digging, the point beyond which lies trespass and self-harm. Prudence is a virtue. Is it possible to poach upon one’s own soul?

But yes, I’m with you, hello world. Show you my soul for a quarter. Or a little random input from a total stranger. If you’re anything like me, you’ve got an incorrigible jones for the thrill of infatuation. But maybe that’s a guy thing too. And maybe we can’t help that either. Cross-pollination works. God planned it that way.

So we don’t give what is holy to dogs. But that’s for our own safety. The bigger sin is holding back. God is alive. And I’ve heard we’re like him.

Ricky said...

Why, thank you, Rebecca! Glad you dropped by. You've got a blog, too, I see. I'll have to go check it out. Well, not *have to*... oh, you know what I mean. :)

I've gotten some real-nize encouragement from unexpected places the last couple days, and I'm runnin' with it.

Ricky said...

Well, you know me, Joe. I have to run it into the ground. It's my way of de-cloaking, I suspect. Now that you mention it. And yeah, if I don't "pour it out" or pour it to it, as it were, it gets stuck in my craw. I get stuck. I'm so tired of stuck. That was Sol's first word, by the way - "stuck!". Very versatile! Very handy! Very appropos! For the knots in his shoes, for not being able to reach the countertop or the doorknob, for finding himself too high up to climb back down, for not having the words...; it all came down to "stuck!" The child is father to the man, and our shadows are passed along to our progeny. A fine state of affairs! Perhaps its all a setup - if so, no doubt it's so we may learn empathy. Which I'm thinking just may be the whole point. That is the drill. Better'n a Black & Decker 1/4 horse.

Thinking about a pierced ear. What do you think? I like it that a lot of men seem to be getting pierced these days. I'd like to show some solidarity in that. Stud or ring?

And Elvis is on it! Peter was right - we are all men of like passions. Is there only one way to prove it to each other?

From the lying mirror to the movement of stars
Everybody's looking for who they are
Those who know don't have the words to tell
And the ones with the words don't know too well

We go crying, we come laughing
Never understand the time we're passing
Kill for money, die for love
Whatever was God thinking of?

Could be the famine
Could be the feast
Could be the pusher
Could be the priest
Always ourselves we love the least
That's the burden of the angel/beast

(Bruce Cockburn)

Maybe I should charge more? :)

But why?

Yeah, I am like you, Joe. Aren't we all. It's just like him to show us so.

Anonymous said...

Getting stuck is not going with the flow, bro! Your muse has fled. Then why am I here? Or Rebecca? Or Bilbo, Julie, Tom and Dave? There’s something simmering in that kitchen. We want some dat.

Hey, we’re gonna get pierced one way or another. Why not? Always chickened out on that particular iteration, myself!

Ricky said...

Maybe I'll just have a hole. :)

On second thought, make that :^

Anonymous said...

>Peter was right - we are all men of like passions. Is there only one way to prove it to each other?<

Guess the Bucs will answer that question on Saturday.

Ricky said...

Go Bucs!

My dad will be watching, too.

I'll be flying down to Florida to see him in February - my sister's got a hand convention spieler she has to attend (in Tampa, I think?), and she's cashing in on some of her FF Miles for my airfare. Been over 8 years since the 3 of us were together.

Hey, if the Bucs win the big one, maye I'll be there at the tail end of the party. I'll keep you posted.

Anonymous said...

I have an idea - let's party for no reason!

Ricky said...

Most excellent idea, Joe! Let's!

Godsgal said...

Hey Mr. Rick Seelhoff-

found your blog this evening, and your words from 2005,

'Lord have mercy.

Just stay with the grief as long as it takes.
Eat the pain. Eat it! Drink all of it. It'll be okay.'

they Really grabbed me, it has been eight years since my husband died, and I have been a moving through another layer of the healing process these past weeks...

the fingerprints of Gods love in those words,
Just stay with the grief as long as it takes...
isnt He good and comforting!

Blessings,
mia