"The Morn of Song"...

"Though with a scornful wonder we see her sore oppressed,
by schisms rent asunder, by heresies distressed,
yet saints their watch are keeping; their cry goes up, "How long?"
And soon the night of weeping shall be the morn of song."
                    - "The Church's One Foundation" - verse 3.  Words: Samuel J. Stone 1866

I have difficulty with these words.  Not because I disagree with them, but because I know their truth.  I have felt the pain of the Saints who have labored and given their lives for the Church.  I see the things that are tearing the Church apart: the decisions, the issues, the conflicts, the disagreements.  And I hear their cry.  I hear the change in the language that we once used to avoid: the name-calling, the labeling.  And I hear their cry.  And I, too, ask, "How long?"

Over the last few weeks, it seems as though the conflicts, the name-calling, the posturing and the defensive positioning, have given the Church more than just a black eye.  We've done damage to the Kingdom.  We've disrespected the Saints who gave their lives for it.  We've taken for granted the Cross.  And I hear their cry.

Whenever a conflict arises, the optimal thing to do, according to the experts, is to look at it as a challenge for growth.  "We can grow from this experience" they say.  "We can look at it as an opportunity" they say.  But the one thing that I find missing, the one thing that is sorely absent, is the act of penitence.  What have I done that has caused this rift?  Where have I been a part of the injustice?  Where did I benefit from or cause pain to another?

Please do not get me wrong.  In no way am I suggesting blame or fault.  Nor am I seeking to affix the proper victor's wreath to either side.  I am merely asking the theological question: Where is God in all this?

I remember reading years ago, although I cannot recall the source, that a reporter had once asked a question of the late President Lincoln during the height of the Civil War, a question of theology.  The North and the South had both claimed they were fighting for "right" and claimed God to be on their own side during that great and bloody conflict.  The reporter asked Lincoln which side he believed God to be on - the Union or the Confederacy?  Lincoln, so I recall, pondered the question for a brief moment, and then responded in his typical folksy way, but with all the sincerity he could muster, "I believe that God is at the side of every widow, and orphan, and childless mother and father."

There comes a time when we must stop trying to prove the other wrong as we seek to be proven right.  There comes a time when we must begin to ask the right questions: How can I be most faithful to the one who disagrees with me?  What am I seeking in my heart - to be right, or to be a servant for the Kingdom?  Am I putting my own desires, my own agenda, my own wants and needs ahead of Christ's calling?  Where am I willing to sacrifice myself for the sake of the Kingdom and Christ's Church?  Or to paraphrase Bonhoeffer, "Where is the cost of my discipleship?"  How am I leading others to Christ Jesus with all that I have and all that I am?  How am I responding in grace?

I am not naive enough to think for a moment that what I've said here will change those who are so deeply entrenched into their positions that they cannot see the other's point of view, and begin an honest, listening dialogue with each other.  But I am hopeful.  Trench-warfare scenarios do not last forever.  Truces come, and the fighting ceases.

At least that's what I've been told about the real reason for this Season of Advent.  There is a light coming into the world.  I pray that it will be one that will soften the hardest hearts, and bring about a peace that passes all understanding.  Mountains will be made low, and valleys will be lifted up.  Rough places will be made smooth and the crooked ways will be straightened.  This night of weeping shall not last.  Soon there will be a morn of song.

Grace  and peace,
Brad