I’ve written before about The Porter’s Gate, a sacred arts collaborative founded in 2017 to be a "porter" for the Christian church: "one who looks beyond the church door for guests to welcome." In the last week they came out with two new collections: Justice Songs and Lament Songs, both deeply needed and very much welcome.
I find myself drawn to a song that echoes the call of the disciples in the boat, tossed by wind and waves, begging Jesus to wake up and save them.
In this time of storm and sorrow, I echo that cry: when you gonna wake up? Rise up and save us!
It’s a biblical cry, echoed throughout scripture:
- Psalm 44:23: Awake, Lord! Why do you sleep? Rouse yourself! Do not reject us forever.
- Psalm 7:6: Arise, LORD, in your anger . . . .Awake, my God; decree justice."
- Ps 44:23–26 Awake, Lord! Why do you sleep? Rouse yourself! Do not reject us forever.
Why do you hide your face and forget our misery and oppression . . .
Rise up and help us; rescue us because of your unfailing love. - Ps 74:21–22: may the poor and needy praise your name.
Rise up, O God, and defend your cause . . .
Here’s the question that haunts me: why doesn’t God intervene, set things right, restore justice, heal us from this wretched pandemic?
Some of you shake your heads and insist, sometimes with disdain, sometimes with sadness: there is no such thing as a God who intervenes.
Yet, as the psalmists affirmed, as the disciples in the boat were so slowly learning, I believe God does speak and storms are calmed. He does lead his people out of suffering and into places of plenty.
Sometimes.
Iwashita Hiroshi, Japan, ca 1970?
Then there are the times when the storms still rage and we find ourselves asking why.
As I pray in this strange, difficult, sad season, I find that song raising difficult questions that make me uneasy.
What if the work to be done is ours?
What if God has already given us all that we need to turn the tide of division and sorrow?
What if the moment of storm is occasion for us to grow in courage and grace?
What if WE are the agents of intervention, and the wait is not for Christ to rise, but for his people to remember who they are and rise to the occasion?
I often return to this passage from Isaiah 58:
If you do away with the yoke of oppression,
with the pointing finger and malicious talk,
and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry
and satisfy the needs of the oppressed,
then your light will rise in the darkness,
and your night will become like the noonday.
The Lord will guide you always;
he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land
and will strengthen your frame.
You will be like a well-watered garden,
like a spring whose waters never fail.
Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins
and will raise up the age-old foundations;
you will be called Repairer of Broken Walls,
Restorer of Streets with Dwellings.
There’s a big IF there.
- If you do away with oppression.
- If you spend yourselves on behalf of the hungry.
- If you satisfy the needs of the oppressed.
Are we even heading in the right direction?
In this time of protests, raging fires, schools opening and closing as COVID-19 spikes, the weight of division and suspicion weighs heavily on us all. Strange theories are repeated as if gospel truth. Accusations multiply, some well-founded, some much less so.
I find myself reviewing familiar words, and asking again: what do these words mean? How can I live them more visibly, more faithfully? How can I plant my feet more firmly on rock when all around me is storm and sand?
2 Timothy 1:7: For God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control.
James 3:17-18: But the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere. Peacemakers who sow in peace reap a harvest of righteousness.
2 Peter 1: 5-7: Make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, mutual affection; and to mutual affection, love
I’ve been trying to do a lot of listening. Trying to understand what fuels the fear around me, trying to understand why people think as they do, why they plan to vote as they do.
I find myself wanting God to rise up and calm the storms that surround us.
But what if His goal is to shape us so deeply that we feel his calm when chaos descends and we feel the stress load rising?
What if the intent is that we ourselves become agents of calm to those caught in their own storms all around us?
Voices of peace? of wisdom? of love?
Not voices of endorsement.
Not voices of acquiescence.
But voices of quiet strength, able to say: Enough. Be still.
I pray it would be so.
