A Moment of Clarity
Churches follow what they call a liturgical calendar. Big events of Jesus’s life are reflected on and celebrated through ritual, teaching discussions and prayer at specific times of the year. This week is what is called “Holy Week”. It is the week stretching from Palm Sunday to Good Friday and then Easter Sunday. This all falls in a time we call Easter and Lent, a time where Jesus’s suffering, death and resurrection and its meaning and implications are reflected upon.
The last week or so has been tough on me. When it comes to preaching and liturgy, I have an extra work load as most pastors do during this time. Easter is what makes a Christian a Christian. Easter Sunday is the Sunday where not only regular congregants but the curious and the seekers usually pop in. It is an event you want to give your very best to explain and demonstrate the content of your faith. That is pressure. Every preacher will testify how grossly inadequate one feels to speak about something you believe is everything and determines the fate and reality of all humankind. During such stressful times bicycling to me is a great de-stressor but last week by bicycle went in for repairs. I went for a run instead and enjoyed it and was quite impressed with my time. But I forgot that I have shortened calf muscles that when I run does a number on my achillies tendon… so much so that I cannot walk the next day. This time turned out to be no exception and on top of it I also slept my neck into a spasm. So over the weekend I limped around with a stiff neck groaning and the seemingly inevitable and final decline of my body. My wonderful wife is a physiotherapist and she treated me into a slightly better shape, but I still felt 82 and grumpy.
Also, we had this spike in drug abuse in our community so every morning when I got to work, I was met by a sad scene of somebody desperately high on whatever drug the devil cooked up for them, highly aggressive and noncompliant. There is not a bodily fluid I haven’t cleaned up this week. This morning there was a bunch of no less that 12 drug disciples at church. For a change they were very apologetic and compliant when I told them to pack up, clean and not do drugs on the premises. They moved very slow because all of them were in various stages of being high but at least they were moving in the right direction. I went inside and started to work. My first appointment was coincidentally somebody who fell in the claws of drugs but decided to make an about turn. She had a heart-breaking slip recently and we are working through it. There is hope.
After my conversation with her I went outside and suddenly there were RCMP vehicles all over ( In Canada the police aren’t underfunded so they sent about seventy vehicles out to every call). The ladies of the disabled group stood there talking with officers looking traumatized. It turns out a taxi came while the drug group were packing up. A guy got out with a baseball bat and started mercilessly hitting the men in the group. He went back and got out an axe. The group fled, he got back in and the taxi drove off. I have seen some crazy stuff as a police reservist in South Africa and all this almost made me miss home. By 9:00 am when the food project volunteers arrive you cannot even tell that there was drama. All is at peace.
I talked to the officers and went inside. I get called to go down to the shelter to get vaccinated. I am grateful for that. I have to wait in a line. It gives me time to reflect on everything. As I get back to my office my stomach growls. Right after a huge growl one of the sisters preparing meals for the homeless comes into my office and asked: “Gabriel, can I bring you a sandwich”. Wow. My stomach did not growl loud enough for her to hear it but her timing was perfect. Or maybe the God’s timing she served.
I finally get to open the book from a theologian on the resurrection. I finished my message for Good Friday yesterday. I need to dig into the hopeful climax of the Easter story. The theologian really knows his game. He says the resurrection means that there is a human destiny and that the world really can change. Christians are the people who from conviction can tell others: There is more to you than you realize, the people with real hope that there are other ways of being together than tribal, violent, exclusive or anxious ones. The resurrection means that death is real yet conquerable. That God cares for all creation and that everything has sacramental potential-they can like the bread and wine at communion become important conveyers of God’s love and purposes for creation. That God is with us.
I drink all this in thirstily. I love this. I need this. And I realize something. I have passed a threshold long ago. There are two things I cannot be anymore: 1) A Christian that just “Jesus, Jesus” and teach theology and proclaim grace eloquently but in a way that side step the ugly parts of reality. In myself and others. That is not what Jesus did. He embraced lepers and outcasts. He bowed down with a woman shamed and about to be stoned. He put Himself in at the center of human ugliness on the cross. That is why I felt (and often feel) this strange calm when I am dealing with depravity and violence and chaos here in our neighborhood. Jesus is alive and He is with me and with us here. 2) A humanitarian hero that face and fight all these social ills without holding on to a Jesus that is Lord over all and will make and is making all things new. Someone full of vocal opinions for (or against) BLM and Gay rights and whatever cause is the flavour of the month to be perceived as a virtuous person without even really having one deep cross cultural friendship, interaction with gay people or engagement with real people affected by a cause.
I am exactly where Jesus calls me to be. In a place where I can only engage hopefully by clinging on to Jesus to dear life (or rather by reminding myself that He is holding on to me because my life is dear to Him). A place where helping, serving and patiently attending with love is rooted in and sourced by a resurrected Lord that lives in me and is working around me. One never scared away by the ugly the world can show.
As a child I often took some things too seriously. My academic goals. My 10 km time. My popularity and social standing. My looks. My calves. Quite unnecessary. But there is one thing I also took seriously that I will never regret. The fact that if Jesus is real and has truly risen from the dead, it changes everything. This has transformed me into a better man. One that shows up and appreciate a sandwich as a gift from God. One who believes Jesus is alive, and one that believes He rose from the dead and raises the dead everyday. Also, me with my broken body and all.
This conviction has come to define who I am and what I do. There is no turning back and no cowering away. Just joy and the peace that surpasses all understanding. Just the hope that He is making all things new. That is enough. That is all I will ever need.
Gabriel J Snyman
March 30th 2021