by Dr. Lani Wilson

Good morning, prayer and fasting faithful. This week is one of prayer and resistance. Regardless of what is happening politically, we remain people of hope. No matter what.

The word this week is sound (Remember, this ain’t my party).

The wind blows wherever it will, and you hear the sound it makes, but do not know where it comes from and where it is going. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”
John 3:8 (NET)

In this passage from John Jesus is trying to explain to Nicodemus, a temple leader, who He was. Jesus was explaining His mystery, Himself. How does God explain Infinity to the finite? More importantly, how do we, the finite, live with the inexplicable, knowing full well that part of its mystery is suffering? As we approach all of this post-January 20, 2017, what sound are we listening for from our God? Or is it only in the “doing” that we can hear?

It is similar for lifeless things that make a sound like a flute or harp. Unless they make a distinction in the notes, how can what is played on the flute or harp be understood? If, for example, the trumpet makes an unclear sound, who will get ready for battle? It is the same for you. If you do not speak clearly with your tongue, how will anyone know what is being said? For you will be speaking into the air.
I Corinthians 14:7-9 (NET)

If musical instruments-flutes, say, or harps-aren’t played so that each note is distinct and in tune, how will anyone be able to catch the melody and enjoy the music? If the trumpet call can’t be distinguished, will anyone show up for the battle?
I Corinthians 14:7 (TMB)

Sometimes we can best see ourselves, our situations, from the outside. Daryl Oi tackles the thorny issue of suffering, humanity, Christians, and God by comparing the Zhuangzi and Dietrich Bonhoeffer.

Zhuangzi (Chuang-Tzu, 369—298 B.C.E.)

The Zhuangzi (also known in Wade-Giles romanization romanization as Chuang-tzu), named after “Master Zhuang” was, along with the Laozi, one of the earliest texts to contribute to the philosophy that has come to be known as Daojia, or school of the Way.
Internet Encylopedia of Philosophy, a Peer-Reviewed Academic Resource

The Zhuangzi is an ongoing discussion between characters about the nature of suffering in life as seen from an Asian perspective. Essentially, we are to accept suffering as a part of life and not be overwhelmed or immersed in the inherent pain: To live is to suffer and human suffering is not the center of the universe. Thus, by not embracing suffering as the central concern of living but as a part of living, it becomes transformational and transcendent, and thus, allows us to bear it.

This wide range of views of Zhuangzi stem from the style of the text. Zhuangzi’s prose style is its own distinctive literary treasure. The central feature is the parable, typified as a discussion between imaginary or real interlocutors. Typically short, pithy, and amusing, his tales are both accessible and philosophically seductive—they both entertain and make you think. A respite from the dry moralizing of Confucians, the text was always a favorite of the Chinese intellectual, literati class. The Zhuangzi also attracts modern Western readers with its thoroughgoing naturalism, philosophical subtlety, and sophisticated humor, all set in a strikingly different conceptual scheme and its distant, exotic context.
Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy: Zhuangzi

We can hear strains of this in African-American theology as well. Dr. Brian K. Rainey, Princeton University asks the provocative question, “Are Black people tired of the religion of suffering?” (African-American Biblical Interpretation for this Era, Black Theological Leadership Institute (BTLI 2016), Orientation Session, 17 July 2016, Princeton Theological Seminary). Is it possible that the move toward non-denominationalism and the lack of engagement among our young people with the traditional brick-and-mortar church is just this case? Is it possible to be Black and American and not know suffering? Certainly, there are many who have embraced Eastern philosophies because of this stoicism and supposed transcendent focus. It is a matter of diminishing oneself in the face of suffering and acknowledging it as a mere instance in the history of humankind, just as we experience and witness change in the natural world.

Death and life, surviving and perishing, failure and success, poverty and wealth, superiority and inferiority, disgrace and honor, hunger and thirst, cold and heat—these are the transformations of events, the proceedings of fate" (Zhuangzi, 5:14-15).
Ooi, D. (2016). Practical Theodicy in the Zhuangzi and Dietrick Bonhoeffer. Asia Journal of Theology, 30(2), 226-247 (pg.232).

“To know what one can do nothing about and peacefully reside in it following fate— this is the utmost of virtuosity” (Zhuangzi, 4:13; Franklin Perkins’s translation in Perkins, Heaven and Earth Are not Humane, 171; cf. Zhuangzi, 6:24-25).
Ibid. Note 20.

Our suffering is akin to what happened in Sequoia National Park a couple of weeks ago: The Calaveras or Pioneer Cabin Tree toppled over after severe rainstorms. It was thought to be over 2,000 years old and that means it was a seedling when The Christ was born. From a Daoist (Daojia) perspective, it could be seen as tragic but part of the ongoing change that is the natural world. We in the West say that because it was not a sentient being, it did not suffer, it did not have the ability to self-reflect on its existence. But other traditions could assert that if it was once alive, it could have suffered. Thus, we observe its living, its suffering, and its dying, and we continue on in our living. Will we grieve its loss? Yes. Do we dwell on it? No. Is this what traditional Western, denominational religion looks like to our young people who are unchurched or unaffiliated? Some would say that this renders us as apathetic and/or passive in the face of our suffering.

In the Oi article Bonhoeffer’s position is presented juxtaposed to the Zhuangzi.

Bonhoeffer’s explanatory narrative can be cashed out in this way: the sufferer must affirm the sovereignty of God in suffering. God sends suffering, although God is against the evil within suffering. At the same time, the devil has his hand in suffering. The devil strives to make use of suffering to tempt the Christian toward apostasy, and this temptation becomes a genuine struggle for the Christian. Nevertheless, God triumphs in this by helping the Christian—he is with the Christian and for him. Because of God’s help, the Christian is prevented from apostasy and now finds God as his everything. He thus protests against the hand of the devil but embraces the hand of God in suffering. He is content with any circumstance as long as he stands in a personal relationship with his God.
Ibid., 231.

Thus, the Christian experiences the anger of God and resultant suffering, but yet is comforted by the same God in her human suffering. Bonhoeffer takes it one step further: We are closest to God when we engage in the suffering of others.

As such, Bonhoeffer is able to hold that while suffering is "in God's hands,” at the same time, God "does not will.. .suffering.” Thus, Christians still ought to protest against suffering, for, in doing so, they are not protesting against God but protesting with God against the evil in suffering.
Ibid. Footnote 18, 232.

Christians ought to protest, but this protest against suffering is neither a "question[ing]” of Yahweh nor a "natural, strong protest without investigating the reason behind it.” Rather, the Christian “should protest against suffering in so far as, in doing so, he protests against the devil and asserts his own innocence.”24 Consequently, there are occasions whereby the Christian ought to protest against instantiations of suffering that occur either to him or to others— for instance, when the Christian ought "not just to bind up the wounds of the victims beneath the wheel but to seize the wheel itself.”25
Ibid., 233.

What does this mean for the Black Church in America post-election 2016? Does it help us see our way forward? Or are we supposed “to see” any way at all? Eastern religions and philosophies are much more focused on the magnitude of the natural world than the West. Human beings are but small parts of the natural world and not the center of it. There is, of course, concern for the quality of life but the focus is on the finiteness of human existence in the face the overwhelming power and seeming eternality of the natural world. The Western world flips that on its head: Human beings are the center of existence and although we are a part of the natural world, there is a drive to control the natural world and even control and/or forestall the inevitable process of dying and death. Zhuangzi would say that our suffering is but a small part of the process of life in the human community. Bonhoeffer agrees that we are a part of the world but rather than diminish our suffering, he elevates God and thereby, acknowledges and elevates the suffering of all of God’s children.

Perkins argues that, for the Zhuangzi, "Much of the text can be read as an attempt to deflate our sense of self-importance, to show that in spite of how seriously we talk and debate, our sounds are not so different from the chirping of birds. 31 The Zhuangzi moves to reduce human beings and, in so doing, shows that our suffering is not as big as we might make it out to be. 32 Bonhoeffer does so not by reducing the human but by elevating the divine. In Job, the divine is portrayed as the all-powerful. 33 Humans are to take seriously not just their own suffering, but the suffering of Christ in the world, through the suffering of others. 34
Ibid. 236.

This identification with the suffering of Jesus the Christ through the suffering of others is the Christian mission, that which distinguishes us from other traditions. It is our primary assignment. We don’t minimize our suffering because it is not important to God; it is minimized because we lift up God, the all-powerful, and must by definition be reduced in the face of His/Her glory.

Look at the ravens, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, carefree in the care of God. And you count far more.
Luke 12:24 (TMB)

The Nazarene reassures us that we are far more valuable than the creatures S/He has created. And yet, we are faced with the question of the continual suffering of humankind, especially that which is to come as we anticipate post-election 2016 America.

I was faced with a minor health crisis last week: Over a two-day period, my vision became filled with streaking and flashing lights and the outlines of an object in the center of my sight line. My optometrist referred me immediately to an ophthalmologist for an immediate, urgent appointment. Within three hours I was sitting in a specialist’s office, contemplating emergency surgery for detached retinas. Oddly, since I was a little girl of six or seven, I have always considered the possibility of blindness and how I would handle the loss of my sight. As the afternoon wore on and I prayed for the stamina to withstand yet another surgery that would have me “down” for months, I thought of my other senses. I had always focused on touch but what is really the second sense that might take over is sound. I closed my eyes to pray during that afternoon of multiple dilations, tests, prodding, scanning and sitting in the different waiting rooms alone, just listening to myself pray. I resigned that if I did lose some or all of my vision, I would still be alive and would still function, albeit with new skills to learn but alive nonetheless. It is biological fact that our bodies uniquely compensate when we lose some capacity. Somewhere at the back of my mind was a picture of that beautiful 2,000 year old sequoia tree, the Calaveras or Pioneer Cabin tree, that had toppled over in the rainstorms. During one television interview, a park ranger was asked if anyone heard it fall, and he said that, to his knowledge, no one heard or saw anything. That old Philosophy 101 query came to mind: “If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there, does it make a sound?” Teleologically and theologically, the question becomes “Do we hear God answer our cries, our groans only when we fall or are the sounds of God’s answers always echoing through the universe and we are just not listening?” And if so, do others hear the same sounds?

Los Angeles Times

us.press.from.com

Reassured by two retinal specialists over three days that my retinas were intact and I was experiencing the natural effects of aging, I was also told that the process of posterior vitreous detachment (pvd)and ocular migraines would continue. Just come back in urgently if there were sudden changes again. Just as that immense tree of antiquity fell, we will all succumb and surrender to life. I was immensely grateful for this respite and keenly aware of my sense of hearing. In just one day, I became acutely attuned to the difference between hearing and listening for the sounds from God. We cannot see down the road in post-election 2016: We can guess, postulate, hope, even beg God for glimpses of what to do. Jesus told parables to paint pictures for the disciples and the crowds. But they still didn’t fathom what He was telling them about Who He was. Finally, He didn’t tell us to see what He was saying; He said to listen.

Are you listening to me, really listening?
Mathew 11:15 (TMB)

Jesus always did something first: Healing and feeding the marginalized, the oppressed, the disabled, the forgotten, the enslaved. Then He talked and tried to get people to listen.

Inactive waiting and dully looking on are not Christian responses. Christians are called to action and sympathy not through their own firsthand experiences but by the immediate experience of their brothers, for whose sake Christ suffered” (DBWE 8: 49).
Oi, Practical Theodicy, Footnote 67, 244.

What is the sound of God? How do we hear above the din, disappointments, and demands of digitial, 21st century living? And are there decibels in silence? Does God have to take away something from us in order for us to listen? Do we dare sit and just listen when there is so much coming our way?

The presupposition here is that Christians ought to suffer in solidarity within whomever they are able to—and thus, the call to social-political and even pastoral action insofar as they are able to. This means that Christians, in deriving their identity from the suffering Christ, must relate to others around them with sympathy and care because Christians are called by the suffering Christ to participate in the reality and suffering of God in the world. 68 This participation means that “[ijnactive waiting and dully looking on are not Christian responses. ” 69
Ibid. 244.

We are called to identify with suffering everywhere and with everyone, not just ourselves. The new buzzword that was tossed around last summer at the BTLI 2016 was “intersectionality.” It isn’t a new concept, just new coinage. Back-in-the-day it was called “coalition politics.” We must be attuned to each other’s predicament; we cannot balkanize (coined post WWI) our efforts and thus politically cannibalize each other. Deacon Reginald Lyles of ATBC calls this phenomenon as the “Oppression Olympics.” In short, as Christians we must identify with everyone else’s suffering because Jesus suffers with us all (present tense).

For Bonhoeffer, however, while suffering in the company of a supportive community is ideal, it is clear that it is not always the case. Many suffer alone—exemplified by his suffering in prison. However, while for the Zhuangzi the surrounding community ought to culminate in an act of stoic embrace and detachment, for Bonhoeffer the community ought to suffer together with the sufferer; they are even called to bear his burdens and, at the point of death, to bear an eschatological hope with him.
Ibid. 234.

Simply put, is the African-American church going to be able to see beyond our Blackness -with our diminishing numbers in cities - and hear others’ cries, even within our own community? Or are we hunkering down to “tough out” the exposed nerve of raw hatred spewing from the ungodly? Who are we listening for and what does S/He sound like in 2017?

In the silence of a darkened waiting room as I contemplated possible blindness and months of recovery, I didn’t look for help. I listened for it. The sound was resounding:

I AM HERE WITH YOU. I AM HERE.

LORD God, regardless of our infirmity, our loneliness, our sorrow, our loss, our renewal, our rebirth, we are nothing if we don’t hear You. You said we would not see you face-to-face until we walk through the door marked “Death,” anyway. Clearly, it is not in our line-of-sight that we will find You. It is in the sounds of the eternal that You come our way. And you never have to yell; Your voice is distinct and clear and resolute. There is no hint of tension or tentativeness or timidity. Your voice is sure and calm. Forgive us when we run from Your voice, Your sounds as if we could get away. Thank You for waiting for us up ahead even as you have been calling and calling and calling. Thank You for Your patience as You wait at the next corner, the next bend, the next crisis, the next day, if it is given. Grant us thy peace, even through the sound of our heartbeats quickening as we hear the cries of others. Bring us to Your table of mercy with every other sufferer and bind us in joy and quiet as we listen and hear the sounds of forgiveness and grace and peace.

In You do we live and breathe.
In You do we live and breathe.
In You do we live and breathe.

In You…

Amen.

Annette Aubert, "Theodicy and the Cross in the Theology of Dietrich Bonhoeffer,” Trinity Journal 32, no. 1 (Spring 2011), 55.