CHRIST IN WINTER: Reflections on Faith & Life for the Years of Winter
I was once disappointed by my closest friend. We were in a meeting. I was under fire. Another person there later said to me, “I felt so sorry for you. I know how close you two are. He had the opportunity and authority to support you, but he didn’t. That must have been so disappointing for you.”
Well, yes, it was, but I assumed there was a good reason for his silence. Maybe he wanted to be supportive but didn’t know how. Perhaps he felt he might make things worse. Maybe he just didn’t understand the situation.
Reason or no reason, it was disappointing, but that did not change the way I felt about him, my love for him, my appreciation for him, because I know that if we stay friends only with those who never disappoint us, we’ll have no friends at all.
Sooner or later, disappointment comes with every person, including Jesus. “What a friend we have in Jesus?” Yes, except for the disappointments. Or, more accurately, including the disappointments.
During the “days of rage” on campus, following the killings at Kent State U in 1970, I was so disappointed in my fellow campus ministers. University President Sam Braden, Student Body President and Viet Nam veteran Chuck Witte, Dean of Students Dick Hulet and his staff, and I—we were the only ones working the streets at night, literally pushing students away from police, trying to prevent violence and destruction, trying to keep people safe.
Shortly after those days and nights, at the monthly meeting of the campus ministers, about half a dozen, the others talked about why they had been missing in action. They had lame excuses, and were a bit embarrassed by using them. Except for Fred, the campus minister for a quite large denomination, who wasn’t embarrassed at all. He said he had gone fishing, adding, quite self-righteously, “I just got out of town. I wasn’t about to have anything to do with something like that.”
Isn’t that what Jesus said about the cross: “I’m not about to have anything to do with something like that.”
There has been plenty of reason for disappointment during these pandemic times—people who refuse to wear masks or get vaccinated, who see it as an opportunity to wrest power away and gain control politically rather than an opportunity to come together to keep everyone safe, who care more about the economy than the lives of people.
Disappointment is part of life. Even Jesus was disappointing to his followers. They thought he had political power, that he would be a king, restore Israel to prominence, make them all celebrities, holding up papyrus fingers proclaiming “We’re Number 1!”
Instead he let himself get put to death on a cross, without calling down a legion of angels or any of the stuff they thought he could and should do.
Jesus is still quite disappointing, at least to me. He refuses to use his power to smite stupid people, even though they deserve it. He won’t even help my teams win games against the unworthy teams. He just says, “Wherever you go, even into the door marked ‘Death,’ I’ll go with you.” Who needs that? [No, don’t put your hand up; it’s rhetorical!]
It’s not the actions of our friends that are most important; it is their presence. A friend is with you, even though their actions, or inactions, sometimes disappoint us. Just as importantly, even though our actions sometimes disappoint them. I disappoint Jesus so often I don’t even want to think about it. Still, “what a friend we have in Jesus.”
John Robert McFarland
“Hold fast to Christ, and
for the rest, remain totally uncommitted.” Hebert Butterfield
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