By the Way: God’s love offers the path to healing

By Medicine Hat News on February 24, 2018.

Human history presents an alarming picture of our tendency toward violence. The stories we tell on ourselves — the grand myths of ancient cultures — reveal the struggle between the harsh reality of our behaviour toward one another, and the faint, sweet desire to be better than we are.

When I think of the scriptural narrative that defines Christian faith, I am drawn to the beginnings — the stories that try to describe how such a belligerent species could be drawn to such a loving God. And it is those in the first book, Genesis, that are among my favourites. “Éam I my brother’s keeper?”(Genesis 4:9) is perhaps the most honest statement in Scripture — Cain’s initial denial of his fratricide says something about how we are built. Looking out for others is not a natural habit; it must be cultivated, taught, nurtured and encouraged.

Our base instincts urge us to ‘look out for No. 1’ — a principle that seems central to Cain’s reaction to the Divine question about Abel’s whereabouts. Cain has removed a competitor — in his mind, it’s as simple as that. Each brother sought to honour God. The Lord had regard for Abel’s gift, and urged Cain to ‘do well’. Cain’s answer to that puzzle was murder. The story goes on to tell us that Cain and his descendants are cursed for this selfish act. “When you till the ground, it will no longer yield to you its strength; you will be a fugitive and a wandererÉ” (Genesis 4:12).

You might wonder — as some in my Bible study do— ‘what does it matter?” Does this ancient part of the story have anything to tell us? Shouldn’t we be more concerned with the stories of Jesus, the founder of our faith; our prophet, priest and King? And my response is always the same; these early stories of faith and failure build the foundation of our need for Jesus’ witness.

To Cain’s arrogant assertion — ‘am I my brother’s keeper?’ — the unfolding scriptural witness answers a continuous and resounding “YES!” That first broken relationship is the beginning of God’s heartbreak. Our inability to turn from behaviour that would break God’s heart is clear in the struggles of our favourite characters; Noah, Moses, Abraham, David. The psalms are full of confessions of a broken people, begging God to heal the brokenness — and then in the life and death of Jesus, that brokenness yields the worst possible result; God is mocked, tortured and crucified. The passion and crucifixion of Jesus represents the worst in us. This episode of violence makes victims of everyone involved; Roman and Jew; religious and agnostic. It was meant to be the end of hope, the end of faith, the end of life. Instead, it marks the beginning of God’s grace.

God’s heart is publicly broken on the cross and then that brokenness is spectacularly healed at an empty tomb. Death, the most obvious mark of violence, is rendered powerless and empty. Violence fails, and God’s love offers us the path to healing É in spite of ourselves.

Rev. Jeff Lackie is Minister of Word & Sacrament at St. John’s Presbyterian Church.