Читать книгу The Beautiful Disappointment - Colin McCartney - Страница 7

2. He Who Has Eyes to See

It is a short distance from my house to the Warden Woods community where Patrick lived. However, on that day the drive seemed like an eternity. Every traffic light, every stop sign and any slow-moving car that got in my way became a lightning rod for my wrath. I was emotionally on edge. I could not get the words out of my head: “‘Blue Boy’ has been shot.” It made no sense. He was not a gangbanger. He was not a criminal. He had no links whatsoever to any criminal activity. Why him? He was soft-spoken, shy and always smiling. He was, in the words of so many people in his community, the one who was going to make it. He had enrolled in college, gave back to his community by working with children, and was an all-around positive light and role model to the children he served at UrbanPromise. And now this? Was this a cruel joke? Was I experiencing a horrible nightmare that would go away once I awoke? No, this was reality. I cursed, wept and prayed the whole way to Warden Woods.

I pulled up to the community centre and parked my car. All of a sudden, a wave of fear and apprehension came over me. Was it really Patrick? Was it one of our kids? I remained for a minute or two in the safety of my car, anxious about what I would encounter on the streets in Patrick’s Warden Woods neighbourhood. All sorts of apprehensive questions danced in my head. How would I handle my staff, who would be deeply devastated by the news that their friend may be a murder victim? What would I say to the weeping children who idolized Patrick? How could I console his family? In what ways would I be able to offer comfort to the people of his community?

I was scared. I had no idea what to do. I sent up a quick prayer to God asking for His power, and then I resolved to get out of the car. Opening the door of my black Honda Civic, I weakly gulped some air and swallowed hard. I then slowly made my way up the path into the community centre. When I walked into the building, I was greeted by a spattering of dazed, zombie-like creatures staring into space. The receptionist sitting behind the large desk in the main hallway looked relieved when she saw me walking through the front doors. It was obvious from her fearful and strained expression that she was doing her best to deal with the hurting people all around her. It was even more evident that she felt totally inept in her attempts to provide comfort.

Her eyes lit up when I entered the room, and I could just hear her thoughts through her expressive, worried eyes: “Finally, the professional is here to take over and make everyone feel better.” To her, I was the person who could deal with this crisis. I was supposed to wave my magic wand and, through my powers, words and presence, make sense of and bring healing to the pain everyone was feeling in this close-knit community. Little did she know that the apparently strong and composed figure she saw standing in front of her was partly an optical illusion. On the outside, I must have looked calm, cool and collected. But on the inside, I was far from it.

To those I encountered that night, I was a walking mirage, a deceptive oasis brought about by their misplaced hope for something to quench their desperate craving for relief. In truth, I was just another scared presence, standing lost and forlorn, within the maze of lifeless faces that were all around me. The secretary excitedly waved me into a room, saying that my staff members were in there alone and they were waiting for me. I went in and we all hugged, wept and prayed. We still hadn’t heard any news, still didn’t know if our precious friend was alive or dead. There we were, broken people, weakened by the stress of the unknown. Yet, something supernatural was among us.

There was a strength, the strength of being together, knowing that we were not alone, knowing that together we could get through this. Though no one said it at the time, we knew that we were all experiencing the same thing. We were hurting, but underneath our pain was a current of God’s presence. He was there. And He was suffering with us.

Nicola called again. It was confirmed that Patrick Dalton Pitters was one of three murder victims killed on the city streets that evening of March 4, 2004. Until then, we were hoping that whoever had been shot had been misidentified and that it wasn’t Patrick. But this was real. Upon hearing the news, some of my staff cried quietly, others stared into space, a few wept out loud, one collapsed on the floor in grief. All of us prayed.

Apparently, Patrick died while visiting an apartment that was not in his community. He was invited by a friend to play video games at the apartment of a drug dealer. Patrick did not know the owner was a dealer.

During the evening, while he was playing video games, some men broke into the apartment with guns, looking for the dealer. A fight ensued, but Patrick didn’t get involved. He sat glued to the couch, clutching his game controller, confused and not knowing what was happening in front of him. During the fight, a shotgun fired twice, hitting Patrick in the chest twice as he sat, stunned, on the couch. The gunmen ran and Patrick’s friends quickly took him to the nearest hospital.

He was dead on arrival.

We spent the night in the community, as it offered us a strange solace. People came in and out of the community centre seeking comfort they received through fellow sufferers. UrbanPromise staff went throughout the neighbourhood on little walks and spontaneous prayer meetings erupted on the streets in the community.

People were tuned into the spiritual world like never before and it was common to witness complete strangers hugging each other while huddling together in prayer. From the toughest men to the most vulnerable children, everyone in the community was humbled, broken and open to God. Our God, familiar with suffering, had now come close to that community in Warden Woods. He was definitely present in every nook and cranny. His Spirit was hovering over the streets and moving among the people there. Though we were all experiencing the devastating results of sin, God’s grace was even more present, slowly oozing out His healing comfort. Where sin abounds, grace abounds more (Romans 5:20).

It is only human to do all we can to avoid suffering. Yet ironically God seems to be most present in our tears. In 2 Corinthians 1:3-5, Paul states:

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows.” (NIV, emphasis added)

God’s comforting goes hand in hand with suffering. You can’t have one without the other. Suffering, though unpleasant at the time, is a reality of life. It is guaranteed—we will all go through it. Suffering is inevitable in a sinful world. We should not be surprised when we go through afflictions. In fact, we should expect it.

However, there is good news. Linked to suffering is comfort. Comfort of others when we suffer together, and more importantly, that of God’s presence in the midst of our suffering. Jesus is found in the midst of our pain. In His immense grace, He enters our suffering and provides comfort for those who open their hearts to Him. Jesus does not leave us alone, but actually joins us in our tears. The tears we weep become His. The pain we feel becomes His pain. He actually embodies each emotion we feel and carries our hurt even more deeply than we ever feel it. He does this for every person, everywhere, at anytime, throughout the world. Jesus weeps with the mother who loses her child to disease in the Third World. He cries with every father who loses his son to AIDS. He feels the pain in the heart of every rape victim or every child who loses a parent to the ravages of war. He lovingly understands the painful and convoluted thought process of every pregnant teenaged girl who chooses to abort her child while, at the same time, experiencing the pain of every unborn child and the wasted future that could have been.

This is the God of all comfort, the God of all love, the God of all grace. For on the cross, Jesus took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows. He is now linked forever to the suffering of those He gave Himself for. He was pierced for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities and by His wounds we are healed (Isaiah 53:4,5). He also is the great High Priest who sympathizes with our weaknesses and who is able to deal gently with those who are ignorant and have gone astray (Hebrews 4:15,16; 5:1,2). This Jesus, the eternal now, sees all suffering and, because of who He is, cannot turn a blind eye to what He sees. The same love that drove Jesus to the cross remains today and He cannot walk away from our suffering, but is bound by His love for us to experience the pain we suffer in even greater depths.

Jesus is like a loving mother, whose heart aches over her sick child and who wishes she could change places with her daughter to provide relief. Jesus feels our pain to a greater extent than we could ever experience it. It is because of the reality of this emotional and grieving God that I feel comfortable enough to approach Him for help. The marvelous thing is that I usually don’t have to go too far to receive comfort from Him as He is already present in my grief. God runs to us before our first tear falls. In fact, His tears for us have already fallen before ours well up in our eyes. This is why I can trust God—He has tears in His eyes and nail scars in His hands and feet. This is the God who is approachable to those who sin, as well as those who suffer its repercussions.

Grief and love are inseparable. If we love, we will hurt. In fact, the more we love, the more we hurt. Loving people means setting yourself up for major pain. Love causes you to become attached to the one you love. This attachment is real and results in a sharing of emotions (happy and sad) and even physical pain. (There are many cases where a child suffers pain and the parents experience that same pain.) People in love want what is best for each other and receive joy when good things happen. However, the opposite is also true. When they suffer, you suffer. This sharing of emotions and experience of collective pain is a strong proof that you love. To really impact someone’s life, love is required. This is why God has such a powerful impact on our lives.

God loves us and because of this He doesn’t only laugh and cry with us, but most importantly, His love transforms us. For love to work at its highest potency, it must be connected to those who suffer. If we love, we are willing to enter another’s afflictions and suffer with them. We must experience their pain, their injustice, their nightmares. When this happens, we demonstrate our love to them, for love limited to spoken words is cheap and is not love at all. Love, for it to have an impact, must be manifested through our shared experience.

“Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.” (John 15:13, NIV)

Love is proven when it is connected to sacrificial suffering.

If I have any integrity with those we serve at UrbanPromise, it is only because I have gone through some of the suffering with which our people must deal. I have witnessed first-hand the issues of racism, injustice, abuse and the various indignities that poverty produces in their lives. It is during these times I have come to appreciate the symbolism in the Roman Catholic crucifix. This is because I can better relate to the crucifix of the suffering Jesus than to the cross that has been emptied by my Protestant brethren. I find it very comforting to know that we have a God who is familiar with injustice, poverty and suffering. He is the Jesus who truly suffered on the cross. Suffered for our sins. And suffers now with us in our brokenness.

He doesn’t hide from suffering but embraces it and has experienced every type of suffering known to man. I am so glad that in times of trials I can come to this Jesus, my God, who

“…was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering.” (Isaiah 53:3, NIV, emphasis added)

Did you get that last part? He is familiar with suffering. He is approachable because He is with us in our pain. He has been there. He still is there. This is the type of God to which the poor can relate—the One who hangs on a cross, the One who suffers with us, the One who has and still does face injustice and indignity. The One who was born in poverty. Christ is love because He chose to go through more suffering than we could ever experience. He has confirmed the deep integrity of His love by choosing to suffer to the greatest extent for us. He still does. This suffering Jesus is the Saviour that we fellow sufferers can easily approach. He has proven His love by undeservedly dying on the cross for us (Romans 5:8).

While suffering Patrick’s loss, we felt a deep chasm of emptiness in our hearts. Together, we were all grieving the loss of a friend and loved one. What made our suffering even worse was the fact that Patrick had been murdered, and some in the media were assuming his guilt as a gangbanger. They couldn’t have been more wrong. Murder is such a heinous act of evil, and when it happens to a young man just entering his prime, an innocent victim, it is painfully hard to deal with. Someone stole his life in the midst of what seemed to be a path that would lead to life-changing moments for everyone he touched.

Of all the types of grief to bear, the loss of a loved one to murder has to be the toughest. We all needed the gentle touch of the God of all comfort and He was not letting us down! We felt His presence in each hug offered and received, with each tearful glance and in the prayers we had together. In the midst of this injustice, Jesus was right there, suffering with us. Somehow, there was peace in the midst of all this craziness because we knew that though God was not responsible for the actions of the murderers, He was not absent from our dilemma. The horrible, sinful actions performed by the few cannot stop God from making beautiful things happen. God’s kingdom is still being fully established. He was present in it all.

Later that night, I went home and began preparing for crisis counselling for our staff and the children whom Patrick served. They needed it and so did I. It was a hard night. My own children were traumatized and had nightmares (this continued for months afterwards) that a bad man would break into our house and murder us in our sleep. After a restless night, I arrived, bright and early, back at the community centre and was greeted at the door by the media. The place was crawling with cameras, reporters and huge television network vans with satellite dishes on their roofs. As I brushed them aside and made my way into the centre, I heard a teenager utter the following words, while pointing angrily at the media throng:

“Why are they always here when something bad happens? Why are they not here when all the good stuff occurs like when one of us graduates from school? They should have been here a long time ago, doing a story on Patrick, a good story, instead of this one.”

I remember talking to the media later in the day and asked them why they never seemed to report on the many good news stories that took place on a regular basis in our communities. I shouldn’t have been surprised by the response. I was told that there is far more bad news taking place than good in our city, and therefore the media report only what they see. “How sad!” I replied. “You are blind because you do not see that there are far more good news stories out here than bad. You are so blind to goodness that all you can see is evil.”

How do you see goodness? Love. Love provides true 20/20 vision because it tends to see things differently. Love sees the truth. Love sees the good news stories in spite of the bad.

I remember hearing Dr. Tony Campolo, founder of UrbanPromise, telling a story of his teaching days at the University of Pennsylvania where he was a professor of sociology. During one of his lectures, Tony made reference to Jesus’ ministry to prostitutes. It was then that he was challenged by one of his students, who curtly disrupted the lecture by proclaiming that Jesus never saw a prostitute in His entire life. Tony, rather agitated by this young man’s audacity to not only interrupt his teaching but also challenge his intellect, took on the young man in front of the class and began to share Scripture that showed Jesus’ ministry of compassion to prostitutes. Tony was experiencing enormous satisfaction as he ripped into this pretentious student, defending the faith while impressing his students with his great knowledge.

When he was finished with the student, he knew he had won the argument and saved the day for the cause of Christ. His reputation was intact and his respect level with the students had risen with each word that left his scholarly tongue. Tony smirked smugly, knowing that he had proved that Jesus saw not just one, but many prostitutes in His day. However, the tables were quickly turned and Tony was left speechless when the student replied, “Dr. Campolo, you see a prostitute in those Bible passages you just read. The people who were with Jesus in the Scriptures you shared also saw Jesus hanging out with prostitutes. To you and them, all you see are whores. But do you really think Jesus saw them that way? Do you think Jesus saw them as whores or two-bit prostitutes? When Jesus looked into the eyes of a prostitute, do you really think He saw a prostitute or did He see a beautiful child of God?”

Ouch! This student was not only bold, he was right and Tony knew it. It was true. Jesus never saw prostitutes, He only saw children of God. Jesus, walking on the streets of our cities today, does not see bums, winos, hookers, drug addicts or gangbangers. He sees His created children, His brothers and sisters, His lost sheep. He sees God’s beauty marks all over each hurting, marginalized or so-called successful person His eyes come across. Love sees things differently.

The Jewish mystics teach us well about this concept of sight that is only made available through love. There is a story¹ they tell to describe the glory of God. These mystics viewed God’s shekina (Hebrew for glory) as the wife of God. They taught that at creation, God and his shekina were united in close harmony. All of creation beamed with the shekina glory of God. However, after the Fall of mankind, when sin entered the world, His shekina was disturbed. God was separated from it and it was imprisoned inside the fallen creation. The question then is: How does God reunite with his shekina? The answer of the mystics is that shekina is freed through the deeds of the righteous. Righteous people are God’s instruments that can release and free the shekina imprisoned in creation by their virtuous acts.

In other words, God’s glory, His shekina, is all around us, entrapped in every created and living thing. Our lives then become an exciting adventure of freeing up God’s glory through our acts of kindness. In this way, love sees things differently. This is why I cannot help but see shekina all around me as I walk the streets of the communities in which we work, neighbourhoods that others have labelled dark and dangerous. I see God’s wonderful glory present, just waiting to burst out all around me. God’s shekina is on the streets of your city too, if you choose to look at it with the eyes of Jesus—with eyes of love. It is present in the form of a homeless youth who begs for spare change. It is active in the hands of the crack addict who places a quarter in his cup. It manifests itself in the businessman’s smile as he places a $20 bill in the same beggar’s cup. It is heard in the voice of the beggar who responds by saying, “Thank you for your kindness.”

The wisdom of Proverbs teaches us some very interesting truths about the importance of seeing. In Proverbs 11:27, we read: “He who seeks good finds goodwill, but evil comes to him who searches for it” (NIV).

The lesson here is simple and yet profound. Goodness and evil are empowered according to how much they are sought out and desired. If you seek out goodness, you will find it and in return will receive it in ongoing abundance in your life. The opposite is also true. If all you seek is evil, then evil is what you will find—it will increase. The more evil we speak about, the more evil we tend to see we will eventually emulate. In the neighbourhoods where we are active, the lie of evil is so strong that many young people actually tend to believe that evil is good and good is evil. Goodness has become archaic and unpractical, and the code of the streets is that if you are not evil, then someone will take advantage of you. The only way to survive is to be more evil than the next person. Thus the old saying “Only the good die young” becomes a reality. This problem multiplies quickly in our society when you consider the influence of the media via print, television and radio that seeks evil to broadcast. If it is true that evil sells papers, then we are in big trouble. Evil has great PR, and it results in people being afraid and feeling hopeless. When this happens, life becomes a game of self-survival by all means necessary and selfishness is the epitome of evil.

The solution to this mess is to have proper eyesight. The Church must be involved in our city, seeing God’s shekina that just waits to be loosed from the shackles of evil. The Church must have Jesus’ eyes to see it. It must also understand it is uniquely gifted for this endeavour. The writer of Proverbs continues to give us more insight on this topic of goodness and evil:

“With his mouth the godless destroys his neighbour but through knowledge the righteous escape. Through the blessing of the upright a city is exalted, but by the mouth of the wicked it is destroyed. A man who lacks judgement derides his neighbour, but a man of understanding holds his tongue.” (Proverbs 11:9,11,12, NIV)

These verses of wisdom tell us that the social, moral and spiritual health of our cities and neighbourhoods is based on what the upright, in comparison to the godless, are doing. More directly, the welfare of our cities rests on how the upright see the city. God is present all around us and with true godly understanding one can see His presence in the ’hood. God’s shekina is there.

It always breaks my heart when I hear of another shooting in my city. It especially hurts when I hear Christians deride the neighbourhood where the shooting took place by saying things like “What do you expect from that place? I would never go there. It is a ghetto, an awful community.” Whenever I hear these types of comments from Christians, I cannot help but think of the verse from Proverbs we just read.

Think of what people say about the tough neighbourhoods in your city. Is it any wonder they remain hotspots of evil? Parts of our cities are dangerous simply because they lack our blessing because Christians have abandoned them. And this is to our shame. We hear of the evil that occurs there and we either flee those communities directly (I know of one community in my city that has had over 20 churches shut down and leave within 20 years—the true plight of the inner-city Church), or else we target them as hit-and-run ministry projects. Hit them with a prayer walk or one-day event and then run away as far as possible. Instead, what we need to do is stay in the community, work with the community, and have long-term, practical, relationally-based ministry in the community. When this happens, you see the many good and God things present there, and you cannot help but bless the city.