When We Don’t Understand

Daily Office Reflection — Acts 12:1–17

Sometimes Sacred Writings leave me with an answer.

Sometimes they leave me with a question.

Acts 12 leaves me with a very big question.

King Herod begins persecuting believers in the church. He has James, the brother of John and one of the Sons of Thunder, killed with the sword.

Then Herod notices something.

The execution pleases some of the people.

So he arrests Peter.

Something is disturbing about that. Herod sees that persecution has gained him favor, so he does more of it. Peter becomes useful to Herod because of what Peter’s arrest might accomplish for Herod.

Peter is placed in prison under heavy guard. Four squads of four soldiers are assigned to him. Herod intends to bring him to trial after Passover.

Meanwhile, the church is praying earnestly for Peter.

The night before Peter is to be brought to trial, something extraordinary happens.

An angel appears.

Peter’s chains fall off.

He walks past the guards.

The prison gate opens.

Peter follows the angel into the street, thinking perhaps that he is seeing a vision.

Then the angel disappears.

Only then does Peter realize:

This is really happening. I am free.

It is a wonderful story.

But there is a question I cannot ignore.

Why Peter and not James?

James was an apostle too.

James followed Jesus.

James had been there on the mountain at the Transfiguration.

Yet James was killed, and Peter was miraculously delivered.

Why?

Acts doesn’t tell us.

Earlier today I was reading Job. Job’s friends believed they could explain his suffering. They had constructed a theological system in which everything had an explanation.

Job challenged them.

Eventually Job declares:

“With God are wisdom and strength; he has counsel and understanding.”

Perhaps Acts 12 asks us to remember the same thing.

We don’t know why James died and Peter lived.

And maybe we don’t have to invent an answer.

That brought to mind something I learned from Michael T. Garrett’s Walking on the Wind.

Garrett describes what he calls the Rule of Acceptance.

He tells a story from his childhood. When he was about ten years old, his Cherokee family went to a restaurant in Asheville, North Carolina. At the counter, young Michael wanted a Butterfinger candy bar.

The owner offered him a Chick-O-Stick instead.

Michael didn’t know what a Chick-O-Stick was. It wasn’t what he wanted, so he refused it.

His parents weren’t pleased with his response, and his punishment was a month without candy.

Garrett remembers that as a very long month!

But the greater lesson came from his father.

Michael wanted to understand why.

His father eventually helped him understand that sometimes we become so occupied with thinking, questioning, controlling, and trying to make things conform to our expectations that we fail to listen.

Garrett relates an old Cherokee saying:

“Listen or your tongue will make you deaf!”

I love that.

The Rule of Acceptance, as Garrett describes it, teaches us to release our expectations and recognize the limitations of what we can control.

That doesn’t mean everything that happens is good.

James being killed wasn’t good.

Herod using human suffering to increase his popularity wasn’t good.

Acceptance doesn’t mean approving injustice, refusing to grieve, or pretending suffering doesn’t hurt.

It means recognizing that there are things beyond our control and mysteries beyond our understanding.

That is something I continue to learn.

Look again at Peter’s story.

Peter isn’t expecting an angel.

He doesn’t even believe what is happening at first.

Then Peter goes to the house where the believers are praying for him.

Rhoda hears Peter’s voice at the door and becomes so excited that she runs inside without opening the door!

She tells everyone Peter is outside.

And they don’t believe her.

Think about that.

They are praying for Peter while Peter is standing outside the door, and they don’t believe he is there.

Their expectations almost prevent them from recognizing the answer to their own prayers.

Peter keeps knocking.

Eventually they open the door.

And they are amazed.

There is something wonderfully human about that story.

Herod had expectations.

Peter had expectations.

The praying church had expectations.

And none of them expected what actually happened.

Perhaps that is where the Rule of Acceptance helps me hear Acts differently.

Sometimes our expectations prevent us from receiving what is actually before us.

We want life to happen according to our plans.

We want God to answer according to our expectations.

We want suffering to have an explanation.

We want every question to have an answer.

We want to understand why one person is delivered while another isn’t.

But sometimes we don’t know.

James dies.

Peter walks free.

We grieve James.

We rejoice with Peter.

And we leave the unanswered question with God.

This is one reason I am grateful that I have learned to listen to wisdom outside the religious tradition in which I was raised.

I have discovered that truth and wisdom can sometimes meet us in unexpected places.

My reading of Cherokee wisdom has helped me hear things in my own Sacred Writings that I might otherwise have passed over.

Earlier today, Cherokee teaching about relationship, harmony, and balance helped me hear Job when he said:

“Ask the animals, and they will teach you.”

Now the Rule of Acceptance helps me sit with James and Peter without demanding an explanation Scripture doesn’t give me.

That doesn’t mean all religions are the same.

It means I believe God is the Creator of all.

And if wisdom ultimately belongs to God, I want to remain humble enough to listen when wisdom comes from somewhere I didn’t expect.

Maybe that is part of being a Curious Pilgrim.

I don’t have to know everything.

I don’t have to explain everything.

I don’t have to control everything.

Sometimes I need to stop thinking long enough to listen.

Listen to Sacred Writings.

Listen to creation.

Listen to the wisdom of those who came before us.

Listen to people whose experiences and traditions differ from mine.

Listen to the Holy Spirit.

And when I encounter something I cannot understand, perhaps I can simply say:

I don’t know.

There is freedom in those words.

Paul said that now we see through a glass darkly.

Job said wisdom belongs to God.

Isaiah reminds us that God’s ways are not our ways.

And Acts gives us James and Peter.

One dies.

One is delivered.

I cannot explain why.

So I will grieve what needs to be grieved.

Give thanks for what needs to be celebrated.

Stand against what is unjust.

Receive what I cannot control.

And keep listening.

Because perhaps one of the greatest lessons wisdom can teach us is that we don’t always need an answer.

Sometimes we need acceptance, trust, and an open spirit willing to listen.

A Pilgrim’s Prayer

God of wisdom,

I confess that I like answers.

I want to understand why things happen.

I want life to make sense.

I want you to act according to what I believe should happen.

Teach me to listen.

When I encounter suffering I cannot explain,
keep me from manufacturing easy answers.

When something joyful comes unexpectedly,
help me recognize it and give thanks.

When I encounter injustice,
give me courage to oppose it.

And when I face what I cannot control or understand,
teach me acceptance.

Free me from the need to control people,
circumstances,
outcomes,
and even you.

Open my spirit to wisdom wherever I encounter it.

Help me remember that I see only part of the puzzle.

Wisdom belongs to you.

So when I don’t understand,

let me listen.

Let me trust.

Let me accept what I cannot know.

And let me keep walking.

Amen