Tag Archives: Abandonment

(Never) Abandoned

(Never) Abandoned (CaD Ezk 10) Wayfarer

Then the glory of the Lord departed from over the threshold of the temple and stopped above the cherubim. While I watched, the cherubim spread their wings and rose from the ground, and as they went, the wheels went with them. They stopped at the entrance of the east gate of the Lord’s house, and the glory of the God of Israel was above them.
Ezekiel 10:18-19 (NIV)

When I was a young child, I went through an intense period of time when I never wanted to be separated from my mother. I have very specific memories of freaking out, especially in situations that were strange to me. In one instance, my mom was attending some kind of meeting at place I’d never been before. She dropped me off in the room for child care. Once again, the room was unfamiliar, the people were unfamiliar, and my mother was no where to be seen. I felt abandoned. I had such an intense emotional meltdown that they found my mother to take me home. I’m glad to say that this period eventually ended. I grew into an independent and self-assured child.

Feelings of loneliness, isolation, and abandonment are very real sources of human fear and anxiety.

In today’s chapter, Ezekiel’s vision in Solomon’s Temple continues. First he saw all of the idolatry that was taking place inside the Temple. Next he saw a man placing a mark on the forehead of those faithful to God, while six others destroyed anyone who didn’t have the mark. Now, Zeke watches as the “glory” (e.g. radiance, presence) of God rises and leaves the temple.

It’s important to note that in the ancient Near East, there this was a common theme across pagan religions, as well. There is a genre of lamentation literature around gods who abandon their temples, which then explains why enemies were able to conquer, plunder, and destroy the structures. Ezekiel’s audience would have heard/read today’s vision of God’s glory leaving the temple and they knew exactly what it meant. Without God’s presence, the temple will be plundered and destroyed.

As I meditated on this in the quiet this morning, I couldn’t help but think of a message I gave earlier this summer. One of the things that I’ve observed along my spiritual journey is how often I hear people praying for God to be present and asking for God to come and show up. I have come to believe that these prayers channel the same human fear of abandonment and I felt as a child and that Ezekiel’s vision is tapping into. When bad things happen, we feel that God must have abandoned us. When we feel anxiety or loneliness was assume it’s because God isn’t present.

If I really believe what I say I believe, then this is the most illogical and unreasonable assumption to make and prayer to pray. In my message I talked about three types of God’s presence.

In Colossians 1:17 Jesus is described as both the agent of creation but also that “He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.” If Jesus is the force holding all things together (i.e. I’m thinking of what Physics refers to as Dark Matter), then David is correct in the lyrics of Psalm 139 when he declares there isn’t a place in the universe where you can flee from His presence.

Second, Jesus told His followers on the night of His arrest that He would be leaving, but would never abandon His followers. His Holy Spirit would indwell us and make us part of the circle dance of oneness between Father, Son, and Spirit. As a disciple of Jesus, the Spirit of God lives in me. My body is a temple. He said He’ll never leave me or forsake me. Praying for God to be present makes no sense in this context.

I have come to believe that what many people mean when they ask God to come and be present is that they want to experience and outpouring or a filling of God’s Spirit. There are many examples of this in both the Great Story and even in current events. It happened just a year ago on a college campus in Kentucky. I have personally found it an important distinction to remember that an outpouring of God’s Spirit doesn’t mean He wasn’t there before and suddenly arrived. I refer back to the previous two points. There are, however, times when His omnipresence is infused with momentary power and intensity.

In a time when anxiety and fear are wreaking havoc on the mental health of people in our culture, I find Jesus’ assurances of living in me, never leaving me, and being present wherever I find myself in the universe to be a source of comfort, confidence, and peace. I simply have to have the faith to believe it and the discipline to acknowledge it in each and every moment.

For anyone interested in the extended version, here it is:

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Child-Like Reactions in a World of Adult Suffering

Creative Commons photo by James Wheeler via Flickr
Creative Commons photo by James Wheeler via Flickr

But if I go to the east, he is not there;
    if I go to the west, I do not find him.
When he is at work in the north, I do not see him;
    when he turns to the south, I catch no glimpse of him.
Job 23:8-9 (NIV)

This, I have come to know: Children see in part, and they know in part. A child’s understanding of the adult world is incomplete. A child’s perception of reality is innocently askew. Children see bogey-men in the shadows, yet their fear is real. A child in an empty room may feel utterly alone in the universe, even when the house around them is fully occupied. For a parent, a child’s warped perception of reality can be alternately endearing and maddening.

We reach a point in adulthood, if we are fortunate and wise, when truth catches up with honest misperception. Having ventured out on our own road to waypoints on the broader horizon, we glance back to find that our vision has expanded with our experiences. What we once saw, as children, in black and white we now see in full Technicolor. When we were young we never saw those details in the background of our child-like perceptions, but now we look back and they suddenly appear to us in high-definition.

I have also observed along my journey that when we experience suffering as adults our reactions are often very child-like. Adult pain unconsciously brings out the screaming, fearful, lonely child in all of us. We want to be embraced. We desire to be comforted. We want to hear a confident whisper in our ear letting us know that everything will be alright. I wonder if, in those moments of pain, we don’t also regress back to our childish misperceptions.

I thought of this as I read Job’s words today. He feels utter isolation from the omnipresent God. It seems to me that his perceptions are askew, yet his feelings are real. Maybe that is the point. Job is on a journey, too. He is progressing through his pain and his feelings and perceptions are working themselves out amidst the mind-bending, spirit quenching realities of his suffering. Like an innocent child suddenly thrust into the harsh realities of an adult world, Job is desperately seeking his spiritual bearing. He will find his way. He will look back from that way-point on the horizon and see this stretch of road with greater clarity. But that’s not where he is in this moment. And, that’s okay.

Chapter-a-Day John 14

Source: jonragnarsson via Flickr

“No, I will not abandon you as orphans—I will come to you.” John 14:18 (NLT)

Last weekend Wendy and I were in a production at the local community center. As part of the development of our roles each actor in the play was required to create a character study. The director then printed edited versions of the character studies and hung them in the gallery for audience members to peruse during intermission. As I was getting the gallery ready before the performance of Sunday’s matinee one of my fellow actors was reading through all of the character studies.

“It’s interesting,” he said, “how many of these characters had fathers who were missing or dead.” Sure enough, a majority of the actors had written that their character’s father was unknown, dead or had abandoned them.

Along the journey I’ve come to recognize just how large of a hole is torn in one’s soul when a child feels or is abandoned by their father. The effects go deep and are long lasting. I had to ask myself how many of the actors in the show last weekend were projecting their own personal pain into that of their characters.

I don’t think I’ve appreciated how this profoundly personal issue is intertwined in Jesus’ story. Jesus makes a point of telling His followers that He is not abandoning them, even as He prepares to be taken from them for execution. Despite what they may think, feel, perceive and experience in the coming days, they are not abandoned – they are not orphaned. Jesus even encouraged His followers with these words less than 24 hours before He Himself would take on the sins of the world, suffer a cruel death and cry out from the cross “My God, why have you abandoned me?”

Today as I prepare to observe Jesus’ betrayal, death and resurrection in the coming weekend, I’m struck that the core human fear of abandonment is woven throughout the story. I’m also reminded that while the scars of abandonment run deep they are not lethal, nor inevitable, nor impervious to healing. Addressing and healing, once and for all, the pain of abandonment is at the core of why Jesus came to us in the first place.