Sunday, October 26, 2003

How Do You Want To Die? (October 26, 2003)

Get a living will.

Recently I have found myself on the "wrong side" of the Terri Schiavo case, disagreeing with the vast majority of fellow conservative pro-lifers who have campaigned to restore the feeding tube that has kept her in a vegetative state for 13 years. I have always believed that it is immoral to enforce extreme measures - like a respirator for one who will never breathe, or a feeding tube for one who will never eat - upon an individual who cannot consent to them.

You may disagree with me, and I know of many fine Christian brothers and sisters who would be shocked and grieved that a pro-life minister would hold such a view. But even if Christian friends differ on whether withholding such treatment is an act of mercy or an act of murder, let's all agree on this: that we should make our own wishes known - clearly, in writing - to those who could be responsible some day for connecting or unplugging the machines that might preserve our beating hearts.

My own family knows my wishes. If I am incapacitated with no chance of recovery, then slap a “Do not THINK of Resuscitating” on my clipboard and leave me free of all respirators, feeding tubes and dialysis machines. If I can't breathe, swallow, or filter out my poisons, then for heaven's sake (literally!), for the love of God (literally!), let me go home and see my Savior.

I know plenty of people who feel the same way I do about that, but in all my life I've only met one who said she wanted every possible measure to keep her alive. Fair enough - let it be done so for her. Others are content to let their families make the decision. That's fine too, but keep in mind that (1) Families tend to argue about it - as they are doing now in the Schiavo case, and (2) Families, in my
experience, almost never pull a feeding tube. Usually they default to whatever machines will keep the heart beating.

"Let each man be fully convinced in his own mind." (Romans 14:5) Whether you want full measures, half measures, or (like me) no measures at all, do everybody a favor and make your feelings known. And if you are ever in that tough spot of having to make the life-or-afterlife decision for someone else, remember that the rule of our Lord applies: "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." (Matthew 7:12)

Sunday, October 19, 2003

A Word For The Spiritually Discouraged (October 19, 2003)

Last week's Chicago Tribune contained an article detailing Mother Theresa's religious despair. Letters that she wrote to priests and counselors have been made public, and they reveal at times a surprisingly bleak assessment of her spiritual outlook. Some quotes:

I am told God lives in me - and yet the reality of darkness and coldness and emptiness is so great that nothing touches my soul.

I want God with all the power of my soul - and yet between us there is terrible separation. Heaven from every side is closed.

I feel just that terrible pain of loss, of God not wanting me, of God not being God, of God not really existing.

I wondered what I would say if I were the priest who received these expressions of sorrow and had to write some words of comfort to so great a soul as Mother Theresa. For what it is worth, here a few thoughts.

1) You're not alone. Read again David's laments in the Psalms. Jesus himself cried out from the cross, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" If the holy Son of God felt abandoned, why in heaven's name shouldn't you feel that way sometimes?

2) Consider the possibility that the distance you feel from God is an affliction from the devil that God permits in order to humble you. St. Paul wrote, "To keep me from becoming conceited...there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me." (2 Corinthians 12:7). Many admire you, wish they could be like you, think you are a living saint. What a diabolical temptation to pride! Who could resist that temptation without the aid of a heavy load of sorrow to keep the soul from exalting itself like Lucifer?

3) Remember that the fullness of God's presence is something that we're supposed to look forward to. If you thought you could get it here you are mistaken. Even Paul said, "Now we see through a glass darkly." (1 Corinthians 13:12). If you could experience all of God now, then what is heaven for?

4) Is it possible that you are expecting a sense of God "wanting you," or approving you as a reward for all the good things you've done? If so, laugh that thought right out the window immediately. God accepts you (whether or not you feel he does) not because you are a saint but because Jesus died for your sins.

5) Some people find perverse satisfaction in deepening despair. Beware this tendency in yourself, and do not think you are immune to it. Just as anorexics will turn away from the food that would make them healthy, so some melancholics will resist joy even when it is beating hard at the door of their hearts. When the Spirit of God alights on your soul with an occasion to rejoice, indulge the joy!

God loves you.

Sunday, October 12, 2003

Delighting In Creation (October 12, 2003)

Go out and see some nature. It is good for you, and may draw you closer to God.

Recently I had the pleasure of talking to a visitor at church who turned out to love our national and state parks as much as I do. There is a special joy in finding a kindred spirit who agrees that Starved Rock is best when covered with ice and snow, or that the time to visit the Warren Dunes is in the off-season when you can have them all to yourself.

While the Psalmist tended to look skyward for such inspiration ("The heavens declare the glory of God!"), you can also look around you at rivers and trees and canyons and waterfalls to receive that same sense of divine majesty. God put in our hearts something that thrills to the glory of his creation, and I believe it is good to feed that thrill and let it intensify. I remember as a child seeing the mountains of
Grand Teton National Park, and being so consumed with longing that it felt like I would burst inside. It was almost as if I wanted my eyes to be bigger - like I wanted a greater capacity to take in the view and savor it as it ought to be savored.

I believe the voice of God calls to us through that longing. It certainly did for a friend of mine who now serves in youth ministry. He told me that the pivotal moment of his conversion came when he was on vacation in Alaska. There was no religious faith in his upbringing, but as he stared at the mountains one day the thought came
irresistibly to his mind: "There is a God."

There is a God, and he likes to speak his glory and refresh our souls through that which he has made. As 19th-century English minister Charles Spurgeon said to fellow pastors,

He who forgets the humming of the bees among the heather, the cooing of the wood pigeons in the forest, the song of birds in the woods, the rippling of rills among the rushes, and the sighing of the wind among the pines, need not wonder if his heart forgets to sing and his soul grows heavy. A day's breathing of fresh air upon the hills, or a few hours' ramble in the beechwoods' umbrageous calm, would sweep the cobwebs out of the brain of scores of our toiling ministers who are now but half alive. A mouthful of sea air, or a stiff walk in the wind's face, would not give grace to the soul, but it would yield oxygen to the body, which is next best.

Well, this is my day off, and I live only 80 minutes from Matthiessen State Park. Bye.

Sunday, October 5, 2003

The Dangers Of Corporate Forgiveness (October 5, 2003)

A question came up in Sunday School about whether we should forgive Bill Clinton (presumably for his adultery, perjury, and relentless lying that cost American taxpayers millions of dollars). The question has given me occasion to reflect on the nature of judgment and forgiveness.

It helps to understand what the Bible teaches about forgiveness if we keep in mind the biblical illustration of indebtedness. Forgiving a sin is like canceling a debt. I owe you $100, can't pay it, and you forgive me the debt so I don't owe you anything. It is as Jesus taught us in Matthew 6:12: "Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors."

But let's say that John Doe owes you $100, and, needing the money back, you remind him of it. Suppose he says, "I don't owe you anything. Paul Lundquist said I don't have to pay." You would be puzzled, perhaps indignant, and say "Paul Who? He's got nothing to do with this! You owe the money to me, not to him."

The point is that I cannot forgive someone's indebtedness to a third party because I have no jurisdiction over that debt. The only debts I can forgive are those that are owed to me, just as the only sins I can forgive are the ones where I personally have been wronged. Forgiving sins committed against another is beyond presumptuous - it is a usurpation of the authority of God. That is why the Pharisees protested when Jesus said to the paralytic, "Son, your sins are forgiven" (Mark 2:5). They reasoned, rightly, that only God could forgive sins. In forgiving the paralytic, Jesus claimed to be the One against Whom all the man’s sins were committed.

For that reason, it is inappropriate to speak of our forgiving Bill Clinton. My share of victimization on account of Clinton’s sins is either miniscule or nonexistent. Who in the world am I to say, "I forgive him"? That is not my call. There are many wronged parties here, and it is up to them to decide whether to forgive their sliver of the pie of Clinton's offense. Hillary appears to have "forgiven" her husband's philandering, though the more cynical among us suspect
that that has more to do with her political ambition than with her sense of charity. As for Ken Starr, Clinton unleashed the hounds on him, and as far as I know has never apologized to Starr or sought forgiveness for the misery to which he subjected him. And how do Madeline Albright and other staff members feel about having been made unwitting agents of Clinton's deception?

Each wronged party has the right to forgive, and Christians are required to forgive those who wrong us and seek our pardon. But let us be careful about employing that word "forgive" beyond its appointed boundaries. Biblical forgiveness is deep and full, but narrowly channeled. Forgiveness without accountability is simply enablement. And forgiving someone who has not wronged you comes dangerously close to playing God. If we start forgiving people without heeding these biblical constraints, we'll soon be more wicked than the unjust judge of Luke 18:1-5. At least that lazy judge eventually upheld the cause of a poor widow. But a thoughtless forgiver would say, "I have taken the high road here and granted merciful pardon to your oppressor." The widow would weep, and the oppressor would rejoice at the opportunity to go out and defraud more widows.

If we "forgive" our leaders when (1) they have not repented and (2) we had no right to forgive them in the first place, then we will have no excuse when, decades from now, ambitious villains and fiends seize on our wrong-headed mercy and rule us with a cruelty that will make Clinton's immorality look like child's play.