cold war

about five years ago i was writing articles for a small denominational magazine in canada. this article was the only one that was rejected, on the grounds that the theology was too 'reform.'

although there is a troublesome idea about the sovereignty of God that i still wrestle with today, i have been thinking a lot about the morning after the 'night of His betrayal...'

seemed appropriate to post this on Good Friday.

*sidenote: the greatest rationale for Good Friday services is that we go from palm sunday with all of the 'hosanna heysanna' hoopla to Easter and the resurrection, having not really dealt with the cruelly torturous passion of the Christ. without Good Friday, Easter would be just another sunday, right?


being an early gen-X canadian, i remember few things from 1972 that impacted my life like the amazing canada-soviet hockey series. i remember sitting in the open-area (the big educational trend of the day) with a hundred or so other third-graders watching the games on a 20" black and white tv during school time. i remember rushing home afterward to the paved driveways and the back streets to live out those great hockey moments in our own luke-warm version of the cold war. i had no idea what the series was all about, other than national pride. this was, after all, why we sang O Canada in the first place... it was the unofficial 'hockey night in canada' theme song.

so I was troubled, as were most canadians, when I saw what bobby clarke did. he was a canadian ambassador from flin flon manitoba who had lived out the canadian dream. he'd made it all the way to the nhl and even had a puck-shaped hole where his front teeth had been. he was playing in a series that would be remembered more as a series of battles than a series of games, but when he swung his stick down upon valery kharlamov's ankle, fracturing it and thus impeding one the soviet's key offensive weapons, he stepped over a line for me. coach john ferguson, no stranger to warlike play, had chosen clarke to carry out the deed because "i couldn't tell that to rod gilbert but i could certainly talk to bobby clarke and he'd do it."

shrewd coaching or abandoning an ideal in order to accomplish a desired outcome, the result was the same. i saw kharlamov hobbled on tv by one of my heroes.

***
how could i have done this to you, Lord?!”

the tragic voice cries out in the coldest moment of the night- that moment that lingers seemingly forever as darkness pauses in chilling solitary stubbornness before surrendering to the first hints of morning light that at once begin to whisper the coming of day from somewhere in the eastern abyss.

“oh God- i’d give anything to take it back! please remember me as a sin offering to I AM!”

the tortured voice cries again to be followed by a sickeningly sonic quadratic of rope pulled tight, creaking wood, cracking bone and escaping air. after this there is only that whisper of morning across the clouded sky. just hours later another dying man will cry out from an entirely different tree of pain before darkness claims this troubled mediterranean district for three hours in the middle of the afternoon.

*****
“goddammit, I told you- I DON’T KNOW HIM!” a gruffly frustrated, heavily accented voice snarls from the comfort of the warmly burning embers and billowing smoke of a courtyard fire. even now the details of this night with its cryptic words, its symbolic gestures and its empty embraces are hazy. one thing seems certain: whoever this voice in the shadows belongs to clearly knows the man of the hour who turns to look straight through the firelight at him as that same darkness surrenders that same piece of sky. off in some barn in the distance, a cock acknowledges the coming of friday morning for the third time in just minutes.

*****
we are really good at judging. we have had a lot of practice. it is as comforting to be able to point at someone in gethsemane as it is to berate adam and eve for getting us all thrown out of eden. we know that judas kissed Christ with a divided heart many times before the garden, and that peter's bloody sword could only temporarily hide the lack of resolve that his words betrayed for all to hear. yet in our heart of hearts we know who we are, and we wear those same labels again and again in our own lives. perhaps that’s why we judge so effortlessly. the ability to do that came once we tasted of sin for ourselves and discovered first hand the difference between faithfulness and disobedience.

but here's the thing. each of the disciples betrayed Christ in that moment when they were required to be faithful, yet didn't the gospel go ahead anyway? as a matter of fact, didn't the gospel require the Christ to be betrayed by those whom he trusted? as i look at the story of judas, i am struck by the idea that perhaps God simply chose judas because he knew that judas would, on his own, do what needed to be done in order for Christ to be ultimately glorified. how could Christ have conquered death and the grave for real without that horrible thursday night? without the death there could be no resurrection- and the resurrection was the point. had judas not been the type of man he was, he would not have been in the position he was, nor could he have been as involved as he was. he was there because Almighty God knew that he would do the job, and an ugly job needed to be done.

such is the sovereignty of God- to know our failings and somehow be glorified even in them.

i believe that the real difference between judas and peter came after the moment of betrayal. betrayal takes on many forms, and both peter and judas were guilty of the severe where we are guilty of the subtle. nonetheless, as the sun came up, one man took his own life and one man recommitted his. the difference between judas and peter was the simple acceptance of the grace of God. whereas judas could not allow himself to be forgiven- in truth he could not forgive himself- peter went away praying a different kind of prayer, and upon that praying rock did Christ build his church.

God is honoured in many ways. he chooses to allow us the freedom to be fallen or faithful, because the choice itself glorifies him. through our faithfulness, we invite others to ask "who is this God that he/she serves and why is he/she able to remain straight while the rest of the world curves?" our lives are to be a plumbline showing how far the rest of this life has slipped away from truth.

because God is omnipotent, his will is accomplished in all things whether anyone, even he, likes it or not. God doesn’t want us to hold out on him, but his will will be done with or without our acquiescence. the choice as to how actively we are involved in bringing honour to his name is up to us, for even fallenness can be used of God to accomplish his intentions.

bobby clarke’s coaches knew their players well. they knew who to call upon for any given play in the game.

although the comparison between the coaching staff of that historic hockey club and the creator of the universe is tragically flawed, the comparisons between the players involved might not be so far off. when God is looking for someone to do a job that accomplishes his will and ultimately brings him honour, when does he call upon us? does he have our faithfulness or our lack of faithfulness in mind when he thinks of us?

I RETURN ONCE AGAIN TO A PLACE I OFTEN VISIT
THE PLACE OF BEGINNINGS
WHERE I ASK YOU TO BEGIN AGAIN

THE LONGING OF MY SOUL
IS TO WALK WITH YOU
WITHOUT A BURDEN TO SLOW ME DOWN

TO CHERISH EVERY MOMENT
AND TRADE AWAY THIS LIFE FOR YOURS
MORE THAN TO BE ALIVE IN YOU I WANT YOU TO BE MY LIFE

TAKE MY HAND- JESUS LIFT ME UP
BECAUSE IVE FALLEN AGAIN
RESTORE MY HOPE, JESUS, WITH YOUR STRENGTH
I WANT TO FOLLOW ONLY YOU
(© 2000)