Okay Jesus, I Think I Get It....
A reflection on the readings for Proper
20B: Proverbs 31:10-31; James 3:13 - 4:3, 7-8a; Mark 9:30-37
The last powerful rays of the setting sun streamed
through the hospital windows as we walked down the corridor. My little two-year
old self walked between my parents, holding their hands. It was 1959 and I was about
to have my tonsils removed at Primary Children’s Hospital in Salt Lake City. I
was going to spend the night in the hospital, have my tonsils removed in the
morning, and go home sometime the next day. My parents settled me into my room,
changed me into my pajamas, placed me into the crib and read me a story. Then
they kissed me goodnight and left. Parents were not allowed to spend the night
with their children.
The next several hours must have been a nightmare for the
hospital staff. I stood in the crib and cried. I shook the crib across the
room. I said, over and over, “I am not a baby! Get me out of this crib.” (I had
a one year old brother at home; I knew what a baby was). I figured out how to
climb out of the crib and did so repeatedly. When I refused to drink the
night-night juice, which surely held a sedative in it, the nurses must have
been at their wits end. Finally it was dark
outside and I was growing weary from my efforts to escape, but still unable to
fall asleep.
About that time my uncle, my mother’s younger brother
arrived. He was 17 years old and came to the hospital with a couple of his
buddies from church. These three clean-cut young men leaned over my crib,
placed their hands on my head, and prayed for me. They prayed for the upcoming
surgery, the doctors and nurses, and for my healing. I remember being soothed
by his presence, his hands on my head, and his words. I fell asleep before he
left the room. The next thing I remember is my parents taking me home the next
day, tonsil free.
Our readings this morning point us to consider how we:
manage anxiety, engage the world around us, recognize God’s presence, and grow
in wisdom.
As a two year old child, left alone in the hospital, I
was understandably anxious. I reacted with what is known as the “Fight or
Flight” response. My survival instincts kicked into gear and I tried to run. My uncle’s prayers made God’s presence real
to me and I calmed down. Engaging in and trusting God’s presence enabled me,
even as a two year old, to respond to the situation instead of reacting.
Reacting is always emotional and defensive – we feel threatened,
we react. We function from what is known as our reptilian brain, the limbic
brain at the base of the head.
It is a part of the brain that enables us to survive in the face of danger. The limbic brain does not think, it’s impulsive and reacts.
It is a part of the brain that enables us to survive in the face of danger. The limbic brain does not think, it’s impulsive and reacts.
In contrast, responding
is thoughtful. When we are able to manage our emotions and allow the initial
reactivity to settle down we are able to engage the part of our brain known as
the neo-cortex. This is in our frontal lobe, a part of the brain that has
developed over time. The neo-cortex matures when we are in our twenties – as
young adults we become less impulsive and more thoughtful. The neo-cortex is
the part of the brain that thinks, it is where wisdom is formed. The neo-cortex
enables us to engage in abstract thinking, it’s the part of the brain we access
as we develop our spiritual selves. It is the part of the brain that manages
ambiguity. As a result of being able to manage ambiguity a relationship with
God can be formed. The neo-cortex enables the spiritual qualities we call
faith, that leap into the unknown.
Our reading this morning from Proverbs is curious. At
first glance it’s kind of prickly, an ancient description of a faithful wife.
But when one reads carefully a more thoughtful description unfolds – a good
wife is wise; she buys land and uses it well. She is strong, organized, and
capable of managing her household. She has a keen business sense and a
compassionate heart. The description in Proverbs of the wise wife is a metaphor
for the wisdom of God. God’s wisdom is like a wise wife: compassionate,
thoughtful, resourceful, and strong. It is a powerful, earthy metaphor – when
we are filled with God’s wisdom we are thoughtful, resourceful, and compassionate.
The ancient Israelites believed that God was justice and justice was God. Justice in this case meant everyone had their
basic needs met. Living a God-focused faithful life meant tending to the social
justice issues in one’s community –the most vulnerable in the society were
cared for.
Our reading from James reinforces the idea that
thoughtfulness is the core of wisdom. For James this is a spiritual process built
off of noble qualities of behavior. This noble behavior is held before the
early Christian community (and us!) as an invitation to engage in a conscious decision
making process. We can choose to react - “conflict and disputes cause a war
within.” Or, we can choose to respond – “to
be pure, peaceable, gentle, yielding, merciful, fruitful, and non-partial.” The
outcome, whether we react or respond, determines the harvest. Responding is
thoughtful and as such our behavior yields “a harvest of righteousness” that is
“sown in peace for those who make peace.”[i]
James is describing our behavior when we respond from our neo-cortex, when we
act wisely.
Portions from the Gospel of Mark stand in sharp contrast to
the description of wisdom in Proverbs and James. The disciples are arguing
about who is greatest. It is possible to argue thoughtfully, listening and
responding wisely. But sometimes when human beings argue we revert to our
limbic brains, we become reptilian, we want to fight and prove our point. We
want to win the argument. I can just hear the disciples each arguing their
point. Jesus walking along with them just rolls his eyes….
What Jesus recognizes in this exchange is how vulnerable
we human beings are.
I was left to spend the night alone and vulnerable in a
hospital room without my parents. Jesus has been teachings his disciples that
he is going to die and they will be left alone –they too feel vulnerable. No
one likes to feel frightened or threatened, regardless of whether the fear and
threat is real and physical or implied and verbal. Regardless of whether our
perspective, our environment, or our bodies are threatened, we feel vulnerable. It’s no wonder the disciples were arguing
over who was greatest – it was their first response to fear and grief at the
risk of losing Jesus. Feeling vulnerable, fear kicks in and the disciples function
from their limbic brains.
Jesus honors the disciple’s vulnerability when he asks
them to consider children. In other words, he is listening to them. In any society children are the most
vulnerable. No one wants to be or feel vulnerable. Becoming vulnerable,
embracing our vulnerability is counter-intuitive. And yet Jesus is asking us to authentically,
intentionally, embrace our vulnerability - and the vulnerability of others - as a means to acquiring wisdom.
In this reading Jesus suggests that our ability to
embrace vulnerability is how we will move from our primal instincts, from
reacting to responding, from our limbic brains to our neo-cortex, from defensiveness
to wisdom, from conflicts and disputes to resolution, from the cravings that
are at war within us to reconciliation, from wanting to be first to caring
first for others.
Embracing vulnerability opens us to the possibility of God’s
presence and wisdom is formed.
Embracing vulnerability leads to wisdom like welcoming Jesus leads to God.
Comments
Thanks so much!