Essay 35 (6-26-04)

 

"NEVERTHELESS" or "EVEN SO"

 

Karl Barth in his generation was arguably the most renowned theologian in the world. It is understandable that when he visited  an American seminary the students were curious to see and hear him. One of the seminarians had a question for the noted Swiss scholar: What is the most profound thought you ever had?

 

  The student may have expected something out of Plato or Aristotle, and was probably surprised when Barth responded with: "The most profound thought I ever had I learned at my mother's knee -- Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so."

 

  Scholars are sometimes humble enough to surprise us with that kind of simplicity -- that the great profound truths are often the simplest ones. As for Barth, he cited Psalms 73:23-24 as identifying the one simple truth that was the basis of his theology. It is one of the lament Psalms where the writer complains to God about the way life is going. He complains about the prosperity of the wicked, while the righteous are consumed with terror. His heart is grieved and his mind vexed. Life is like a bad dream, as the Lord himself will see if he ever wakes up. He finds it too painful to try to make sense of life. He even moans, "I was like a beast before you."

 

  Then comes the faithful resignation that impressed Barth: "Nevertheless I am continually with you; You hold me by my right hand. You will guide me with your counsel, and afterward receive me to glory."  The New Jerusalem Bible renders verse 23: "Even so, I stayed in your presence; you grasped me by the right hand; you will guide me with advise."

 

  The "Nevertheless" or "Even so" principle is the taproot of religious faith. Life may be incredibly difficult and cruel, and there may be inexplicable injustices and tragedies. Nevertheless, I will remain faithful, for God is in the shadows. Even so, I will hang in, for God will sustain me.

 

  This principle accepts life the way one finds it. It is realistic in that it recognizes that life by its nature is difficult and sometimes seemingly impossible. And it is unfair and cruel for many people. It is a brave faith -- one anchored in deep conviction -- that can say amidst the storms of life, Nevertheless . . .

 

  Ouida and I take our turn in the Prayer Room -- an hour each week --  at our congregation. Prayer requests are written on cards, from members and non-members alike. Some are called in from outsiders. A team of us takes turns in praying about the requests, all day long, five days a week. Ouida returned from her turn while I am preparing this essay. She quietly said to me -- as if she felt the pain -- "I am amazed that there are so many prayer requests about cancer -- all kind of cancer."

 

  Yes, all kinds of cancer -- and other serious illnesses -- some of them terminal, even children. But the prayer cards tell of other concerns and call for other prayers. Unemployment or underemployment. A place to live. Financial problems. Dysfunctional homes. A wife who fears her husband is going to forsake his family. Sons at war. Children astray. Teenagers killed in an auto accident. Wavering faith. Old folk who feel lonely and forsaken. On and on it goes.

 

  Can one hold up those cards to the God of heaven and lament -- as did some writers of the Bible -- "Why so much pain and heartache in a world that God loves and over which he rules?" But then add, as if wrenching the last vestige of faith from deep within our soul, Nevertheless, you are with us, even amidst the darkness . . . and light will one day overcome the darkness.

 

  The prophet Habakkuk was given to lamentations. "O Lord, how long shall I cry, and you will not hear?" opens his prophecy. He complained about all the violence and injustice. Like the lamenting psalmists, he dares to question God, "Why do you show me iniquity, and cause me to see trouble?" Violence was everywhere, and yet God would not save, he lamented

 

  And yet Habakkuk ends with one of the most encouraging passages in all the Old Testament. It expresses the "Nevertheless" principle.

 

     Though the fig tree may not blossom,

     Nor fruit be on the vines;

     Though the labor of the olive may fail,

     And the fields yield no food;

     Though the flock may be cut off from the fold,

     And there be no herd in the stalls ---

     Yet I will rejoice in the Lord,

     I will joy in the God of my salvation.

 

    I returned this week from a series with an African-American church in Jacksonville, Florida. While it bears the name "The Worship Place," it is of Churches of Christ background. Its minister, Harold Rollinson, was educated at Abilene Christian University. On the program with me was Ivory James, Jr., a longtime soulmate of mine. Ivory and I were put on trial by leaders of the black Churches of Christ and were excommunicated. It is an incredible story that I tell in my autobiography but will not repeat here. It was good to see dear Ivory again.

 

  I'm relating this so as to tell you of a conversation I had at dinner with Harold and Ivory and their wives about growing up black in the South  -- and the present state of racism in America, as they see it.  Ivory told of how when he was a six-year old boy he was informed by his mother he could no longer play with a white boy his same age, even though bosom friends. "Why, Mamma?" was at last answered by the sympathetic mother of the white boy, "You are black and he is white." That was when Ivory learned that he was black. "I didn't know I was black or that my playmate was white," he told me, laughing. "We were just little boys."

 

  Nor could Ivory attend the school his playmate attended.  Later in life Ivory -- still naive about it all -- told his father he wanted to attend the state university. "Son, you can't go to the university. You keep forgetting that you're black!" Nor could he use a public toilet, eat at a restaurant, stay in a hotel, or even drink from a water fountain. And certainly not get a decent job. He was black.

 

  We all recognized that the Civil Rights Movement has made a difference. We noted that the time was when we could not be together in a restaurant as we were that day, served by a white waitress no less. But racism still exists, even if more subtle, and sometimes not so subtle. White folk did not want this African-American church erecting a building in their neighborhood, however impressive the facility. They created obstacles. Pressure was put on the white lady who sold them the property, but she would not yield. It is much more difficult for a black family to make a loan for a home.  There may be laws about job, salary, and housing discrimination, but there are ways of ignoring them.

 

  Harold, himself a minister, reminded me that a black minister on TV is always stereotyped -- the shyster, conniving, woman-chaser type. Ivory pointed out that in social intercourse a white couple will be Mr. and Mrs., while the black couple will be called by their first names. Ivory said his father advised him to marry a light-skinned woman, for his children would be lighter and more acceptable to whites. The black-black African-American has a harder time of it than his lighter counterpart, especially the males.

 

  There is less prejudice toward the black woman. She can get a job when her husband can't.  It causes friction in the home. "I got a job and I'm black," she scolds her husband, "why can't you get one; you must be lazy." The black male can hardly get a job that calls for being on the phone. His voice is unmistakable and unacceptable on a business phone, but not the black woman's voice. Harold says this causes lots of hate and resentment, and may help explain why our prison population has an inordinately high percentage of black males.

 

  All this in a nation that claims to be Christian! One would think that Christ's call for discipleship -- following him! -- would make us color blind.  Have you ever tried doing what William James, famed Harvard philosopher, advised -- "imagine foreign states of mind" -- and put yourself in a black person's shoes? There would be one big difference in your life. Whatever you did, wherever you went, whatever your dreams, you could never forget your color.

 

  That is one more reason why I love and admire my old friend Ivory -- and now my new friend Harold. In a white man's world the fig tree hasn't always blossomed for them, the vines haven't always borne fruit, and their flock has often been cut off from the field.  Nevertheless . . .

 

  Cruel discrimination! Those who bear it a lifetime, and can still say, "Even so, the Lord is with me, and I rejoice in his promises," may enter the kingdom of God before the rest of us.