Stability in the Storm, part 2
This is the second in a series of four articles in which I briefly explore a portion of chapter 12 from the Letter to the Romans. I went through all of chapter 12 in last week’s sermon, but here I am going to go a little deeper into some of its verses and build on what I hinted at in the pulpit.
As I mentioned last week, the inspiration for this series came from watching two massive storms hit the Southeastern U.S. There comes a moment when communities are anticipating landfall of a storm when the preparations begin in earnest. In those final days and hours, people rush to secure their possessions as best they can, purchase water and food supplies, gas up their cars and, if necessary, seek higher ground.
Storms of a different nature rise and fall over the course of our lives. It is wise to be prepared for that turbulence, whether in our personal lives, in our relationships, or in our society. I would argue that the best way to find stability in the face of the inevitable upheavals of life is through a depth of personal character forged by the practices of faith. Paul’s letter to the Romans outlines those practices. This week, I want to consider verses 14-16:
Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another; do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly; do not claim to be wiser than you are.
Except for that first sentence, this section seems reasonable. I don’t mind rejoicing with those who rejoice, or even weeping with those who weep, but why would I bless those who are so cruel and hostile as to persecute me? And why is that directive lumped in with harmonious living, associating with people of lower status, and not trying to seem wiser than I really am.
I believe the answer lies back in verse 9: “let love be genuine.” The obstacle to being genuine is the facade we construct to signal to others that we are people of consequence. A facade is a false front. It is who we want people to think we are, but are really not. Because it is not really us, our facades are empty and lifeless. They prevent us from connecting on a human level with others in their joys and hardship, they reject the company of the lowly because they can’t improve our status, they cannot create harmony because they are always on alert to any threat or challenge.
When people persecute you—criticize your work, undermine your efforts, block your interests, or even seek to destroy your relationships—they are also testing the resilience of your character behind your facade. Can someone else’s bad temper, hostility, anger or contempt force you to change your character? Can they turn you from being a person who loves into a person who hates? If so, they have uncovered an area of growth for you. This doesn’t mean that we would say “that is fine that you lied about me to undermine my reputation…I’m cool with that.” Love doesn’t hesitate to directly challenge the wrongdoings of others. But what it does mean is that the Love that faith has implanted in your character is not linked to your pride, your reputation, or your need for control (all of which weaken love).
So how resilient is your character? Do you have a thick facade and a shaky character? Or do you have a solid character, deeply rooted in the love of God, and able to withstand the slings and arrows of the broken souls of this world who lash out because of their own fear and anxiety? If the answer is the latter, you will see those who persecute you for who they truly are—a fellow human being who is suffering—-and the love within you will bless them.
Blessings,
Pastor Jen
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