Tag: spirituality

Finding God in a Troubled World: Lessons from Micah and the Beatitudes

Published on by The Rev. Jason A Burns, DeaconLeave a comment

In the past few weeks, I have found it increasingly difficult to balance my emotions with my hopes for the world. As a history teacher I am acutely aware of the barbarity humanity has inflicted and continues to inflict on itself. Time and time again one group of humans has sought to declare themselves superior to others; we have created norms and laws that cement those beliefs, but over time those values bend, and ultimately break due to the strain placed on them by the people who resist the barbarity. I am not going to take us down the path of remembering what we have all learned in history class, instead I draw our attention to the words of Micah.

            Micah was a prophet, his job was not to predict the future, but to point out where the Israelites had strayed from the path God has set before them. He begins by invoking creation, “Rise, plead your case before the mountains, and let the hills hear your voice” this is to remind us that creation has witnessed it all. It has witnessed the entirety of human history; it has witnessed our rejection of God’s call to love; it has witnessed our moments of tenderness and inclusion; it has witnessed the things God has done for their creation. Micah then reminds his readers of those very things, the release from Egyptian bondage, the sending of Moses, Aaron, and Miriam to help us understand the kind of society God desires for us. He protected us from the curses of enemies, by turning them into blessings. This heritage defines us as people of God; it tells us that from the beginning God has been and is present among their people. Micah ends by telling us something that would have been harder to hear in his time, he says that God doesn’t want us to bow before them; make burnt-offerings; pour out rivers of oil; or give up our first born for our sins. God has said, through Moses, through Aaran, through Miriam, and now through Micah that they want nothing more than for us to do justice, to be kind, and to walk with God in humility. The only sacrifice God requires is the sacrifice of sin because it is sin that stands in the way of justice and kindness and humility.

            Matthew is echoing the message of Micah in his recounting of the beatitudes. There are many ways to interpret these famous lines, but the one I like the most is that the first four remind us of the different and most common ways that humanity suffers. We endure sadness, we, at times, feel abandoned by God, we, at times, adopt a sense of helplessness in the face of apparent authority, all the while hoping it could be different, but not believing it could be. The last five lines point us to the very things Micah pointed to as things that God does and desires for us, mercy, humility, and justice. Collectively the beatitudes are a reminder that God is with us through it all and if we can hold on to that then the glory of God’s kingdom in heaven will be revealed, we will find comfort, our thirst for justice will be filled, and we will see God among us.

            It is difficult to see God in the world right now. It is difficult to see them among us as children are traumatized by the arrest of their parents or even themselves; it is difficult to see God among us as faithful people are gunned down while seeking the very justice God asks us to pursue. It is difficult to see God among us as we fight over government spending, or policies designed to ensure that all people are treated justly and humanely. It is difficult to see God among us as our neighbors freeze to death because communities ‘can’t afford’ to provide a warm space. It is difficult to see God among us when every day there are multiple news story about the lack of Justus, the want of kindness, and absence of mercy, which is why I know I have been finding it difficult to balance my emotions with my hopes for the world; but hope is not lost.

            Hope is not lost because history tells us that God’s love always wins over the sins of humanity. God’s people were freed from slavery, they were comforted, they received mercy, and their desire for justice was fulfilled and the same will be true again, but how does knowing this help us now?

            A key and unspoken component of Micah’s message and the beatitudes is that we must believe that God’s vision and hope for creation is possible and we must accept that we as individuals are not the solution, but we are a part of it. Jesus called us to be the church, to be his body in the world. A body that is imbued with the power of the Holy Spirit and empowered by God to act in their name as we seek justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with them. Walking with God, means that we are walking with each other, it means that we are aware of each other’s plights and even if we can’t help each other solve our problems, we can at least make sure we don’t make things worse. Walking with God means seeking to comfort and protect the oppressed in the ways the oppressed ask us to; it means speaking out when our fellow human beings are putting their beliefs about the world ahead of the humanity of their neighbors; it means respecting the dignity of every human being by putting their humanity before our political, cultural, and economic motivated views of them as “the other”; it means stepping back from the fray and asking where God is and accepting that if we can’t answer that question then perhaps we are the problem because as followers of Christ Jesus where we go, God goes.

            Clinging to God’s vision for creation, as best as we can perceive it; gathering as a community of faith to remind ourselves of God’s vision and command to love; and engaging in spiritual practices that remind us that God walks with us; and trusting that despite humanities best efforts to interfere with God’s plans, God always finds a way to work through us to bring an end to injustice. This was true in the time of Moses, in the time of Micah, in the time of Jesus, and it is true today. We need only believe that it is true and do our best to help or at least not get in the way. Amen.

How Faith and Mental Health Intersect

Published on by The Rev. Jason A Burns, DeaconLeave a comment

The human condition is fraught with struggle, though the nature of that struggle varies greatly. Some wrestle with basic necessities like food and shelter; others face what we call “first-world problems,” such as the cost of gas or reliable internet service. We are all aware of the many struggles people face—or are we? Perhaps we are only aware of the struggles we see, or the ones we choose to pay attention to. We notice the visible and the public, the hardships our neighbors share or that society measures and tracks. But there are other struggles—hidden ones—that remain unseen because they are quietly endured or purposefully concealed.

Did you know that over 102.5 million Americans—more than 30% of the population—struggle with mental illness each year, and only half of them seek treatment? “Mental illness” is a broad term encompassing mental, behavioral, or emotional disorders. It does not mean that 30% of the population live with severe conditions such as schizophrenia; very few do. Most experience some form of depression or anxiety, often without recognizing it or knowing what to do about it.

If you have never experienced depression or anxiety, allow me a moment to describe what it can feel like. When I was in my late twenties and early thirties, I was tired all the time. I didn’t want to attend events, see friends, or even play Legos with my kids. I wanted to curl up on the couch, get lost in television or books, and be left alone—yet I also longed for emotional connection. I couldn’t explain why I felt this way because I didn’t understand it myself. On top of the depression, I was living with undiagnosed anxiety. A simple note from my boss asking to see her could trigger a three-day, nonstop internal conversation ranging from “I’m about to be fired” to “It’s probably nothing,” and every possibility in between. My chest would tighten as if in a vise, or I’d have heartburn so severe I wondered if it was possible to replace my esophagus.

Through it all, I kept going to church, though even that began to feel empty. I struggled to understand why I no longer sensed the presence of God. At the same time, I was devouring every book I could find about God—and becoming increasingly angry. How could the Creator of the universe allow creation to destroy itself? Why did God seem so silent?

That struggle—to understand why I felt alone despite being surrounded by love, despite knowing that God loved me—was both painful and life-giving. As I sought medical treatment for my depression and anxiety, I also realized I was walking through a spiritual crisis—a dark night of the soul. Slowly, I began to see that my turmoil was not evidence of God’s absence but part of a process. God was using my pain to shape me, to call me, to show me that divine healing often happens through human hands. God calls doctors and researchers to develop medicines that ease mental suffering. God calls social workers, counselors, and pastors to walk beside those who suffer. God heals the world through the people God calls to serve.

Mental illness is prevalent among us, yet we rarely recognize it because those who live with it often become experts at hiding it. Only in recent decades has our culture begun to speak openly about it—and even then, much of that openness comes from those who do not experience it. Hiding our pain behind a façade is exhausting. It denies others the chance to love us as we are, and it can make it nearly impossible to believe that God loves us. If you cannot believe that your friends, family, or partner love you, how can you trust that God’s love is real?

In this way, the struggle with mental illness mirrors the struggle of faith. Jacob, too, was a deeply flawed man—he deceived his brother, cheated his father-in-law, to gain wealth and power. Yet Scripture tells us he was loved and blessed by God. His greatest struggle was spiritual, revealed in the mysterious night when he wrestled with God and received a new name. Israel—which in Hebrew means “one who struggles with God”—became not just Jacob’s name but the name of God’s people. The biblical nation of Israel is, at its heart, a community defined not by perfection, but by struggle.

This story reminds us that struggle is not the opposite of faith; it is often the birthplace of faith. When we wrestle with God, we are held in the tension between our weakness and God’s strength. That tension is not punishment—it is grace. It is through wrestling that we discover who we are and who God is. Jacob walked away from his encounter wounded yet blessed, forever changed. So too, our own wounds—emotional, mental, or spiritual—can become signs of encounter with the divine.

Depression, anxiety, grief, or despair are not signs of divine abandonment but invitations into deeper relationship. When we face the darkness within and refuse to let go until God blesses us, we participate in that same sacred struggle. God meets us not in our masks of composure but in our honesty, exhaustion, and raw humanity.

The incarnation itself reveals that our pain is not foreign to God. In Jesus, God wrestles with what it means to be human—even unto death—and transforms our suffering into resurrection hope. To live as Israel is to live as those who wrestle with God and yet cling to God. It is to trust that even in the depths of depression or anxiety, the wrestling itself can become holy ground. For it is there—in the night, in the uncertainty—that we find God not as the one who removes our struggle, but as the one who blesses us through it. What we do with that blessing is up to us, and it is my profound hope that the church continue on the path of making our communal spaces sanctuaries in the truest sense, spaces that truly welcome and protect all, including our siblings who hide their pain.

Reframing Faith: Jesus, Love, and Secular Priorities

Published on by The Rev. Jason A Burns, DeaconLeave a comment

I have been preparing to lead a class on seculosity and spirituality so when I read the lessons for today the idea that we should put the things that are from God first in our lives caught my attention.

            Seculosity is a new term, coined by David Zahl, to explain the lateral move from faith-based religion to secular based religion. How many of us have heard someone say “I’m spiritual, but not religious”? While the term seculosity does apply to this growing group of people, Zahlclaims it applies to atheists as well. His basic argument is this, “religion is…. the lens through which you sort the data of your days, rank your priorities, and focus your desires.” With this definition we are able to widen our lens and see that our drive to make more money, to have and use the latest technology, to plan every moment of our children’s day, to be the highest achieving student in school, to fight injustice in the world are all religions if they are the central factor in our lives.

             To be clear there is nothing wrong with wanting to make more money, with planning activities for our kids, getting good grades or fighting injustice, that is not what is at issue here. The issue is twofold, first claiming to not be religious and then using a secular -ism or task to organize your life is in fact a religion it is just not a religion based on God. Second, and more applicable to us, is that claiming to be religious but then using secular tasks and -isms to shape our time and energy is, by definition, sin, but let’s not dwell on that, instead let’s focus on Jesus’s call to be ready and Paul’s pressure to be faithful.

            The day I left for the UK I was having lunch with my best friend Tyler and we quickly found ourselves talking about how religious zealots have coopted Christianity and our political system. Tyler is a card-carrying atheist and has a profound respect for those of us who choose to believe in God, primarily, he says, because of his friendship with me. While he has no interest in believing, he has seen the positive impact faith has had on my life and that helps him to see that the zealous bigots who get all the press are not in fact all that religion has to offer. Religion is being used to shape government policy, which is problematic for two reasons. First and most obvious is that government is supposed to protect the rights of all people, not just the people those in power prefer. Second, the version of Christianity that is being used is not the only version of Christianity that exists, and more importantly I think it important to name what it is, it is the Pharisee version of Christianity. It is the version that has set strict and unbending rules, even when bending or even breaking those rules may in fact be the morally and ethically right thing to do, the thing that demonstrates the love God, as taught to us by Jesus.

            When Jesus tells the disciples “Blessed are those slaves whom the master finds alert when he comes; truly I tell you, he will fasten his belt and have them sit down to eat, and he will come and serve them.” He is not telling us to be good little slaves and obey our master; he is indicating that in God’s kingdom things will be different by using the language that his disciples will identify with. The Master will trade places with his servants and take care of them, not because the Constitution says that all people are equal before the law, not because the Universal Declaration of Human rights says that all humans have a God given right to life, but because in God’s kingdom Love rules the day. The whole point of the Gospels is for us to learn that God’s kingdom is counter cultural, it is a new and different way of living, a way that doesn’t just bend the rules, it gets rid of the rulebook because the rulebook is not faith, it is religion and over time humanity has a habit of replacing faith with religion.

            Paul tells us that Abrham faithfully obeyed God and because he truly believed that God would fulfill their promise and God did so. What God asked of Abrham was to leave behind the life that he knew and trust that God would lead him to newer and better things, so Abraham did so and from his faith came generations of faithful people. People who sought a homeland of their own, a land that would be ruled by God. We are the descendants of those people and the promise of God has not changed, but we have.

            As we have become more sophisticated and enlightened as a species we have moved further and further away from faith and have claimed to reject religion, but what David Zahl has pointed out is that we have not rejected religion, we have simply replaced one religion with another.

            We have replaced the simple teachings of Jesus, the call to love others as much as we love ourselves with a love of material goods, straight A’s, being the top of our professions, being the best mom or dad and then wonder why we feel tired, and stressed, and unsuccessful. We don’t feel that way because of what we do, we feel that way because we are always viewing our lives through the lens of those things and that is what David Zahl means by seculosity. If we view every moment of our lives through the lens of our professional life then we will inevitably feel that when we are not working, we are somehow failing. If we view ourselves through the lens of being a student who needs to do well in order to have a good life then we will inevitably feel like a failure when we get a lower than expected score or when we achieve our degree, we will feel incomplete because the thing by which we defined ourselves is gone.

            Utilizing secular lenses to define ourselves and to shape our worldview is fine to a point, but ultimately all roads lead to the same place, a place of unhappiness and loneliness. A place where people go hungry or eke out a meager existence based on the rules their society have written down, rules like constitutions and lists of Human rights. Jesus gave us a different lens, not a lens that blocks the other lenses, but changes them, like when the optometrist flips and twists their magic machine. The lens of faith simply allows us to view the world with love in our hearts. It does not keep us from striving to be good at our profession, but it does help us to ensure that we do not harm ourselves or others as we do so. Jesus does not say to stop doing your best in school, but does ask us to think about if our efforts to be the best are harming ourselves or others.

            When I think about at the religion of the past, the religion that required adherence to strict rules I get why so many people have left it behind and I get why so many people are fearful or more accurately angry about the religious zealots who are forcing their views on us all. I also get why so many people have latched on to zealousness, because it is easy. It is easy to boil human existence down to a list of rules that help you easily decide who is right and wrong, but that is not what we are called to do. We are called to be people of faith, people who love God, love ourselves, and love our neighbors above all other things. People who consciously choose to be counter cultural and out the love of all people ahead of our secular beliefs. Amen.