The Convenience of Cecil the Cat

"It is a growing trend of internet mob justice, one that often bleeds into real-world harassment with real-world consequences." (Article here: http://www.vox.com/2015/7/30/9074865/cecil-lion-palmer-mob-justice)

'Cecil' tells me two things: we love pointing fingers and being quick to cast judgment.  We also love deflecting from our own shortcomings.  Admitting our own faults is either to painful or inconvenient.

It's always been easier to point fingers at others. It is driven by our tendencies to deflect away from our own short comings as individuals, and at times collective shortcomings as a nation or culture.  

We are also quick to react to assumptions, half truths, and flat out lies with no time given to allow truth to come forth or information and facts to be collected.  

Often it is led by alarmist mentalities, the loudest voices (but not the wisest), and built on faulty views of other people (prejudice), and is often driven less than honorable motives (we call them politicians).

We fall for the typical problem of believing the first thing read, or the loudest voice we hear,  all too often becoming too little to late when much of what we first read or heard can often be simply untrue.

An emotionally charged response based on feelings, fed by our own prejudices and assumptions, which is based in little information does not lead to justice but revenge.

These mob mentalities (revenge for a cat) are so minor compared to much greater, a real issues that deserve much more, and necessary attention (Planned Parenthood, anyone?)

The convenience of Cecil is that it is easy to fight this "injustice" because it  allows us to "feel good" by vilifying someone, and yet doesn't force us to justify our own sins committed for the sake of convenience nor does it force us to look on our own individual sins or our cultural soul and wonder what we have become.

Tides Unexpected.

There is a beach near my home that I frequent because it’s relatively unknown to the non-natives.  I probably don’t help the situation as I have often taken friends and family who visit from out of town to this beach for bonfires and good times.  It’s a beautiful setting nestled between two small cliffs with easy access,  a gorgeous view, and free parking.  That’s important.

I recently took a group to visit this beach.  The whole time leading up to going,  I told them how great of a spot this was, how quiet it would be, and how there would be more than enough room to accommodate our group of 40 plus people.  I found out how wrong I was when we arrived.  I’d never seen it this way before, the tide was unexpectedly high, taking out 30 feet beach that was usual there.   The waves were crashing up to edge of the beach, and there was little room on the small crowded patch of sand we were hoping to claim.  I suddenly began defending the situation.  “It’s never like this,”  and “we always have room.”  But we didn’t. 

We would find a small area that we tried to make work so that we could have our bon fire and sing our songs.  To the skim boarders, the situation was perfect, and entertaining.  To the rest of us, we were busy dodging waves and residue washing up onto the beach which was  claiming more and more of it away from us.  At last we realized we had lost the fight to stay, when one set of waves came so high, it washed up over to where we were and took out most of what we had set down, dragging sandals, instruments, and bags back into the ocean.  Thankfully only shoes were lost to the sea.

It made me realize how unprepared I was for the situation, and how much I relied on what I thought I knew.  I had been to this beach many times before, but usually late at night, when the tide was lower.  I had not bothered to look up any information to see if things had shifted. Not unlike my assumptions of what I knew of the beach that day, we often thrive off what we think we know of people and ourselves.  We are caught unprepared for what the high tide reveals to us

 When the local crowd gathered to stone the woman caught in adultery, they were hoping to “trap” Jesus in to saying something that would get him arrested.  Instead he spoke right to the heart of the matter, and they were face to face with their own sin. They were caught.   It says in John 8:9 that “When the accusers heard this, they slipped away one by one.”  He caught them in their own trap.  He made them realize their own sin was right before them.  They had assumed one thing, but reality brought truth to light.  He uncovered their own sin buried in the sand.

And maybe this isn’t a bad thing.  Perhaps we need Christ to bring ‘unexpected tides’ into our lives to challenge the assumptions and bring truth to light in our own lives, in the places we try to keep hidden. We need these tides to wash up and reveal what we have buried in our hearts, and held on to for so long.  Perhaps his ability to shine light to truth in our lives will help us deal with that we often push back down back into dark parts of our soul.

When we allow God to bring light to dark places in our moments of prayer, in moments we remain in His presence, we risk little in what God may reveal to us and challenge us to change.  It is in the moments we keep hiding, and don’t deal with our sin, that circumstances, in most unexpected ways, reveal darkness in the most humbling ways.  And this of our own accord, for we have worked so hard to bury it deep through our sin and arrogance.

When Jesus found the woman sitting at a well in Samaria, he found someone broken and wounded.  He in no time spoke right to the situation she was in.   But he didn’t condemn her in the moment.   He did bring her sin, her brokenness to light, he put it before her, and then offered her hope.  In John 4:13 says to her “the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”  Eternal life built on the “living water” found in Christ.  Perhaps this ‘living water’ was the high tide needed to disrupt her life and bring her redemption.  Jesus did just that.  Love Eternal broke through her darkest situations and brought life.

Our fear is not in what tides washing up may reveal, instead it is in the grace God offers us in our moment we allow ourselves to be vulnerable before Him.  God convicts us of sin to bring us to redemption.  He sheds light on our circumstances to help us to become who He created us to be.  So we should welcome the tides, be honest with our brokenness, allowing Christ to bring wholeness. We go from unexpected tides, to welcoming them.  In doing so, we become more like Jesus.