Steve's Letter: "Afraid, guilty and tired!"

Do you know my favorite thing to do...right after jumping off buildings and getting a root canal?

It's grading papers.

Do you know what I'm doing right now?
Well, I'm writing to you, of course, but what I was doing before writing to you and what I'll do right after writing to you is...

...grading papers.

I remember once at Disney when I was with our grandchildren at one of those "character" lunches. Our daughter, our son-in-law and my wife deserted me and the granddaughters decided it was time to party. They had food fights, ran around the restaurant chasing after Mickey Mouse and ate cupcakes, getting icing on the walls, their clothes and me.

That was when the waitress came over to take our drink order. I ordered lemonade for the girls and an iced tea for me.

"Sir," the waitress said, smiling. "I don't want to be presumptuous, but are you sure you don't want something stronger? I think you could handle this better drunk."

That's how I feel about grading papers...and a variety of other things.

As you know, I don't drink "adult beverages," but that doesn't mean I don't see the attractiveness of "transcendence in a bottle." I might not be a better grandfather, a better preacher or a better professor...but then, I wouldn't care so much. And there is something to be said about not caring.

Do you know the story of the woman who complained about the anxiety of being a new mother and went to her physician for help? He prescribed some anti-anxiety pills and told her to take one every morning.

She decided that if one of the pills was good, two or three would be even better.

The next time she saw her doctor, he asked the woman how she was doing and how the new baby was.

She replied with a puzzled expression: "What baby?"

What student? What paper? What sermon? What book? What broadcast? What...

I know, I know. I shouldn't have written that, but even preachers sometimes fantasize about being out from under all the responsibility...and just running away with a bottle or a pill.

That's when I started thinking about the stack of papers on my desk that need grading.

I remembered Psalm 103: "For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far does he remove our transgressions from us. As a father shows compassion to his children, so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear him. For he knows our frame; he remembers that we are dust" (vs. 11-14).

I also remembered Matthew's description of Jesus, quoting from Isaiah, as he wrote about us and about Jesus in Matthew 12:20: "...a bruised reed [that's us] he [that's Jesus] will not break, and a smoldering wick [us again] he [that's Jesus] will not quench..." Then Matthew illustrates Isaiah's prophecy throughout his biography giving examples (e.g. 9:36, 14:14, 15:32, 20:34) of Jesus being "moved with compassion" toward the weak, the needy and the sinful.

It really does put a different light on that stack of papers.

I know my students. They aren't just names...they are sons and daughters, fathers and mothers, and husbands and wives who are sometimes so needy even though that neediness isn't always reflected in the papers.

The students who wrote the stack of papers on my desk are afraid. They're afraid that they may not make it, that they will fail, that they've made a mistake in this God stuff and sometimes they even wonder if, when they get in the battle, they will be skilled enough to stand. They are afraid...really afraid.

Me too!

He knows our frame...He remembers...A bruised reed he will not break...A smoldering wick he will not quench...He was moved with compassion.

The students who wrote the stack of papers on my desk are not only afraid, they're guilty. Nothing will make you feel guiltier than to be a theological student or a preacher and have people think that you are good, pure and obedient when you know you're not. Those students are beginning to discover that their motives aren't altogether that pure and that their call is filled with ego, selfishness and sin.

Me too!

He knows our frame...He remembers...A bruised reed he will not break...A smoldering wick he will not quench...He was moved with compassion.

The students who wrote the stack of papers on my desk are not only afraid and guilty, they're just plain tired. The seminary where I teach is very rigorous academically. Frankly, I don't know how the students read all they are supposed to read and do all they are supposed to do. Often they neglect their own needs, staying up to the wee hours of the morning, skipping meals and working harder than they ought to work. Sometimes, especially this time of year, they look so tired and so burned out.

Me too!

He knows our frame...He remembers...A bruised reed he will not break...A smoldering wick he will not quench...He was moved with compassion.

So, when I go back to those papers, I'm going to try and remember that the students who wrote them are afraid, guilty and tired. I'm going to remember that about me too. And I'm going to give to them what God has given to me...more compassion and gentleness than professors are usually thought to give.

And just so you know, I wasn't just talking about students, professors and grades here. Maybe you guessed that I was talking about you too. You're just as afraid, guilty and tired as we are.

What if God were different than what you've been told? What if God were kind, gentle and compassionate toward you? What if grace always ran downhill?

How different would your life be?

Enough.

I've got to get back to these papers, but do ask yourself how you would live if you knew that God cared more about you than he did about your grade?

He does, you know.

And he asked me to remind you!

In His Grip,