February 2019 Archives

When did complaining get such a bad reputation?

I recently saw a meme on Facebook that left me bewildered. I don’t remember the complete tagline; something like “this is what happens when you complain.”

Above it was two side by side pictures of Jesus seated next to a person on a park bench. In the first photo Jesus is dressed in his oft seen attire of his time period, clean and whole; listening intently. However, in the second, he is stripped (except for his loin cloth), crown of thorns on his nodding head, multiple lash marks about his body, bleeding profusely.

I guess the meme creator means to infer when we complain we re-crucify Christ.

What a horrifying thought!

Wouldn’t that negate his final statement, “It is finished?” Wouldn’t his resurrection become null and void? Wouldn’t all hope be lost with a single complaint? Wouldn’t our conversations with God become full of trite and meaningless gratitude platitudes? Wouldn’t superficial exchanges become the norm?

I’m not advocating complaining for the sake of complaining; certainly no one enjoys being around a sour puss.

I am suggesting that memes like the one described may make one reconsider being open, honest and genuine when expressing his or her feelings to the Creator.

The Old Testament prophet, Habakkuk, sometimes called the complainer, wrestled strenuously with God’s decision to use the Babylonian Empire to punish Judah’s sins. Then with a change of heart he magnifies the Lord,

“For even if the fig tree doesn’t blossom, and no fruit is on the vines, even if the olive tree fails to produce, and the fields yield no food at all, even if the sheep vanish from the sheep pen, and there are no cows in the stalls; still, I will rejoice in ADONAI, I will take joy in the God of my salvation. ELOHIM Adonai is my strength!” (3: 17-18)

Throughout the book of Psalms, David passionately assails God with all his doubts, fears, and anxieties. Yet, in the very same book, he fervently praises God for His goodness, grace and mercy.

Surely of all people in the Bible who had a right to complain, it was Job. He lost all his wealth, his health and his family in one fell swoop and was left with an impatient wife who said, “curse God and die.” To add insult to injury, three of his supposed friends told him his loss was his fault because he sinned.

In his despondency, Job vehemently moaned, wailed and grumbled to God (or maybe I should say he sincerely articulated his pessimistic perspective) and yet the only thing that God chastised Job for was his ignorance, not his complaints.

After which, Job says, “I had heard about you with my ears, but now my eye sees you; therefore, I detest (myself) and repent in dust and ashes.” (42: 5-6)

This must be why Peter says, “Throw all your anxieties upon him, because he cares about you.” (1 Peter 5:7)

Authenticity with God seems to inspire a humbled cathartic experience.

I can live with that.

During my years as a teacher, two of my former principals and many colleagues described me as having the patience of Job—an Old Testament character known for enduring undeserved suffering.

Such was NOT the case today at the food bank where I volunteer one morning a week.

A homeless woman came in seeking a two-day supply of food. One of the intake volunteers asked her if she wanted tea or coffee; she declined. A second intake volunteer asked her if she had the means for cooking (microwave, stove, etc); she did not. The first volunteer, hearing this, inquired about any special food requests and again, twice more, queried about tea or coffee.

The time was near for me to depart anyway, so I quietly left yelling in my head, “how many times are you going to make that poor soul acknowledge that she doesn’t even have the resources to boil a cup of water?”

This particular volunteer is a perfectly pleasant person; humiliation was not her intent. I know she was just trying to be thorough; possibly she was having an off day, maybe she did not have the ability to infer (highly unlikely), or maybe she just wasn’t listening.

Therein lies the rub for me.

As an introvert, I have been repeatedly dismissed as shy, too sensitive and too quiet—as if there is something wrong with being quiet (or sensitive and shy, for that matter).

Or beloveds who think they know what I’m going to say and begin speaking before I have finished my thought—they are so busy thinking about how they are going to respond, they aren’t really listening to me in the first place.

Many verses in the Bible (a few here in no particular order) speak to listening and using words appropriately.

Proverbs 25:11–Like apples of gold in settings of silver is a word appropriately spoken.

James 1:19—Therefore, my dear brothers, let every person be quick to listen but slow to speak, slow to get angry.

Proverbs 15:23—To make an apt answer is a joy to a man, and a word in season, how good it is.

Proverbs 10:19—When words are many, transgression is not lacking; but whoever restrains his lips is prudent.

Proverbs 15:28—The mind of the righteous thinks before speaking, but the mouth of the wicked spews out evil stuff.

Perhaps the most sagacious is Matthew 12:36-37, “Moreover, I tell you this, on the Day of Judgement people will have to give account for every careless word they have spoken; for by your own words you will be acquitted, and by your own words you will be condemned.”

Jesus had just cured a demon-oppressed man and the Pharisees were inciting that, “It is only by Beelzebub, the prince of demons, that this man casts out demons.” To which Jesus responds with several parables one of which is a tree being know by its fruit.

Even at face value, these verses from Matthew should give cause for pause.

I wonder . . . how different life would be if we truly took the time to speak sparingly and listen intently.

We might truly hear what’s not being said.