2. What situations challenge our own assumptions of God’s greatness? 

I thought I'd answer question 2 & 3 together.

You don’t have to listen to the news for long to come up with a running list of situations that seem to cast a shadow over the idea of “God is Great”. The American election cycle has a term called “October Surprise” which refers to a scandal or event that blindsides one of the opponents at the very last moment, putting their assumed victory in jeopardy. It seems lately, that God is having one October surprise after another. Given the climate we live in, it can feel that God’s “victory" is also in jeopardy. Every week ends with a cliff-hanger where we are shocked by the headlines, cruel treatment of asylum seekers, unfair border practises, police violence, racial injustice, government corruption given a blind pass, dangerous nationalism/populism which stokes hatred and civil unrest, unprecedented natural disasters, a world-wide pandemic that has burdened the least of us with health and economic woes, suicide rates skyrocketing. And then I have my own list: irritating aches and pains that keep showing up, emotional dips into negativity, patterns of mistrust, thoughts that cycle around anxiety, and more recently a low grade dread of loosing mental and physical energy/clarity which is sure to worsen as I age. Hardly a match for global suffering but being a member of the human race, I play my own part in loosing sight of God’s Great Faithfulness.

Mercy, justice, tolerance, goodness and love, the character traits we attribute to a trustable and compassionate divine presence, seem naive and old-fashioned during these times. Something relegated to the good old days when decency and truth were assumed values. They say we live in unprecedented times and I really feel I’m living through a time like no other. But this question could be asked of any generation in any century and they too would have a list of grievances and tragedies, personally and collectively; some much more horrific than we could ever imagine. Reading Isaiah seems uncannily relevant. It’s not uncommon for Paul and I to say, after reading a passage, “this sounds familiar”. So I genuinely wonder what would it mean to assume God’s greatness while acknowledging the many dark chapters that span the whole of our history. The binary in me wants to separate the good from the bad, live in a universe where all the malignancy of our human condition is wiped away, cleaned up properly, sight unseen so that God’s greatness can shine brightly and assure me that everything is safe and sound. Life as it should be.

But in the eyes of God what is greatness and victory really? Lately the wonderful quote from a Peter Gomes sermon has resurfaced in my mind: "Hope is forged on the anvil of adversity.” Something like that anyway. The first time I heard that was with Paul during his sickness with GBS. We, together and in our separate ways, would swing back and forth between worry, hopelessness, despair and a felt sense of being carried. Each day, somehow, we were given enough crumbs of hope, energizing us just enough to show up and take the next step. We desperately needed to be empowered to trust beyond the circumstances and our fears of the unknown. Definitely there were times of loneliness (sickness can sure fuel that sense of separateness) but accompanying that sense of being cut off from community and life as we had known it, we also felt deeply connected (to God, each other and community) in ways that were new and life-giving. Oddly these two companions, hope and weariness, made a path for God to reveal his greatness. In weakness, in sickness, and in spiritual poverty, the body of Christ, through community and through an enforced retreat, kept us afloat and kept us tethered to a faith greater than ourselves. This kind of Great God is the assumption I want to hang on to. Through Christ in his suffering love, God’s Goodness will create hidden highways through the impossible mess of our situation, locally, globally, communally and personally, binding and weaving people together to a covenant that is guided by the grandness of both love and truth which ultimately has the last word even if we can’t quite believe it.

- Bev

3.  In an exilic situation in your own life, how did God supply you with energy and power? How did God reassure you that you weren’t alone? (verse 31)

I went through a faith journey exercise following the guidelines of a book some of you have read called Inner Compass (Margaret Silf). In it you go along the river of your life and take note of times that the river narrowed or you feel caught up in the weeds. And then you take note of times it felt like you were flowing through or being met along the way.. throughout my life I have felt met along the way by many strong women that became sister or aunt figures to me. It seems to have been a consistent thing throughout my life to be blessed with mentors and guides.

- Mel

Thinking about a recent exilic time where God seemed to come through - my memory settled on the days and weeks before my walking pilgrimage with Joel in England. For whatever physical and emotional reasons, I got a pugnacious urinary infection that wouldn’t let up. Over a six-week period I ended up seeing 5 doctors, from naturalpath to emergency room, all who didn’t seem to have the answer I wanted. A quick fix. Five rounds of antibiotics didn’t seem enough; basically a slow anxiety turned into a panic. Why were the fates against me? Each doctor said it sounds like you should be doing this trip with your son. Their compassion was unusually consoling, but I still felt unsettled and unsure. I still felt ill. I ended up at the end of my rope, and started bargaining with God. If you want me to go, you’ll have to make it clear. I don’t even know intellectually if God responds to these kind of prayers - but that is what I prayed for. Eventually I let the whole issue go in a silent walk through the stacks of the library’s fourth floor. I felt a peace that I would be supported somehow. And…weirdly…I was able to go. I didn’t even need the pills I brought along. 

Looking back, it’s still kind of a mystery what really happened. I attribute it to a divine rescue from a personal exile. That makes the most sense to me. Others looking on might conclude that the antibiotics finally worked. Maybe we’ll never know for sure. But the narrative we choose to give to our experience seems important. I want to have a world view that leaves mystery in, and not be reductionistic.

The exile that is most fascinating for me right now is the exile from reason and credibility that is embodied in the Emperor without Clothes. This celebrity-turned-inept politician lesser god has a hold on many people but it does appears to be loosening, just at the right time. But what devotion and irrationality! Here’s another perceptive critique:

https://www.salon.com/2020/10/07/donald-trump-is-the-greatest-show-on-tv-critic-james-poniewozik-on-how-it-all-ends/

What Isaiah adds is a metaphysical critique of our lesser gods; this seems to be missing at the end of this article. When we ‘humbly’ acknowledge an even bigger God than the one that seems to dominate the airwaves, screens, and our collective heads, is there not a grounded perspective we can come to? Hopefully together. It’s still about trust (a lot of trust!), but our imaginations are somehow activiated to think of empires and emperors as dust. Suddenly our deification efforts are relativized, and we may ‘return' to a simpler life of truth and love and mercy.

- Lyle

5. What are some “How long oh Lord” prayers you’ve had? How did God renew your strength?

Along the lines of my last answer I think the how long oh Lord for me is part of the fabric of who I am. I came across some old journals from my 20s and I got really frustrated that some of the writing could have been something I wrote yesterday! The exact details and people in the situation change, but the essence of who I am and the struggles that I have were essentially the same. The serenity prayer comes to mind again. Instead of how long oh Lord will I think and feel this way, my prayer is wisdom to know what is my work to do and let go for the spirit of grace to carry me for the rest.

- Mel

4. Verses 18-20 describe Babylonian gods that topple and rot. What are the gods of modern 21st century life?

The text and questions reminded me of the Pete Enns' interview with an archaeologist who is studying the agrarian working class remains (mostly not skeletal!) of the ancient Israelites. She says one of her main finds were pottery pieces that were likely icons for worship. She isn’t surprised but it may be a surprise to modern Christians who believe that Israelites were strict monotheists. As Enns’ said, it would be a mistake to think that ancient Israelites walked around with their ‘bible’ in their pocket. She says we need to understand that they were poor farmers barely getting by. Sure they had Yahweh to worship and lean on for inspiration, but if an extra prayer to a pagan deity ‘helped’ with the rains or with the birth of their next child then that’s what they would do. It was all about survival. So hearing Isaiah’s call for an incomparable Deity in Yahweh might come as a soul-searching challenge to the first listeners (and all of us actually). We all have lesser gods when we get right down to it. Comfort, our reputation/status among our friends, our pocket book, fear and anxiety, knowledge. All of those can and often are my lesser gods. 

- Lyle

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