Novel
Sermons: The Gospel in Literature and Life
8.
“An Entire Weekend with God”
The
Shack by William P. Young
John 14:8-17
First Presbyterian Church
The Reverend Donald E. Ray
August 16, 2009
Breaking
off the ice that encrusted the mail box door, inside Mack found a single
envelope with only his first name typewritten on the outside; no stamp, no
postmark, and no return address. He tore it open and with his cold-stiffened
fingers retrieved a small rectangular paper. The typewritten message simply
said:
Mackenzie,
It’s
been a while. I’ve missed you.
I’ll
be at the shack next weekend if you want to get together.
-Papa
A
wave of nausea rolled over Mack which just as quickly mutated into anger. (1)
The shack was the site where they
had found the blood stained red dress his daughter Missy had been wearing when
she was abducted and murdered during a camping trip the preceding Labor Day
weekend.
The
Great Sadness he called it, had become Mack’s constant companion. It
draped itself around his shoulders like some invisible but almost tangibly heavy
guilt. Mack had turned off whatever
faith he had in God—the God who couldn’t or wouldn’t protect his Missy. But
try as he might, he couldn’t escape the desperate possibility that the note
had somehow come from God. It had
been signed, “Papa,” his wife,
When
Mack arrived at the shack, it was just as he remembered it.
He sat on the floor beside the blood stain that had soaked into the wood.
“I love you Missy. I miss you so much,” he mumbled as he drifted off to
sleep. Waking with a jerk, he started for the door. “This is ridiculous. I’m
done, God. I’m tired of trying to find you in all of this.” (2) He
had barely walked fifty feet back the trail toward the Jeep when he felt a rush
of warm air, the snow melted around him and spring foliage and flowers blossomed
everywhere he could see. He turned around to see the shack gone and a cozy log
cabin in its place, smoke rising from the chimney.
As
Mack was about to hammer on the cabin door it flew open. He found himself face
to face with a large beaming African American woman. She engulfed him in her
arms. “Mackenzie Allen Phillips…My, my, my how I do love you!” On the
precipice of emotion, Mack couldn’t stop the tears filling his eyes. Just as
suddenly, a second figure appeared, a small distinctly Asian woman; “Here, let
me take those,” her voice sang as she brushed Mack’s face with a kind of
makeup brush. Smiling she whispered, “Mackenzie, we all have things we value
enough to collect, don’t we? . . . I collect tears.” (3)
Mack
then noticed a third person had emerged from the cabin, a man. He appeared
Middle Eastern and was dressed like a laborer, complete with tool belt and
gloves.
The
large woman said, “I” with a flourish, ”am the housekeeper
and cook. You may call me Elousia.” Or . . . “You could call me what
“What?”
Mack was surprised and confused. Surely this was not the Papa who sent the note?
“I mean, are you saying, Papa”
“Yes”
she responded and smiled.
Mack
realized then that the Middle Eastern man must be Jesus, or as he said;
“Hebrew, and his mother called him Yeshua.” The Asian woman: “And I am
Sarayu,” she said. . .”Keeper of the gardens, among other things.”
Mack
struggled to figure all this out. Since there were three of them, maybe this was
a Trinity sort of thing. But two women and a man and none of them white? Then
again, why had he assumed that God would be white? Then Mack struggled to ask,
“which one of you is God?”
“I
am,” said all three in unison. (4)
For those who have not read it, The Shack, is a series of scenarios in which Mack with these three
figures struggles through his grief with its anger and guilt and questions. The
narrative is entertaining, thought provoking, emotion stirring; all on a path to
healing in the wake of tragedy, well worth reading for those values. Since
this series we have titled “The Gospel in Literature and Life,” I will
highlight some of what I find as the Gospel according to William P. Young.
The nature of God is the eternal question. Among
its answers is the personification of God. Jesus
declares God is Spirit but calls God, “Father.” The
prologue of John’s Gospel uses the metaphysical concept of “Word,” but
then says, “The Word became flesh. . .” The
Gospel according to Young says that when we personify God, that human-like
embodiment is just that - the embodiment we choose or speaks as it were to us in
a given situation. It is not the
totality of God. In that realization
is the openness to a wide range of possibilities for encountering and describing
God. A large African American woman
baking a pie is not out of the question.
The story line of The
Shack is captivating. Could this
really happen? For those tragic
experiences in our life we wish we could have a face to face with God, we wish
such a story would be true. For the
sake of those who have read The Shack with
those gnawing questions, I will not disclose the ending. This
is a novel. It is a work of fiction.
It is a story developed in the mind
of the author. That does not however
as I quoted in our Call to Worship make it irrational.
The Gospel in it is that altered states of
consciousness leave us open to whole new dimensions of spiritual or
God-communication. I am not
referring to the attempts at chemically altered consciousness of the 1960’s
but of that which occurs in or as an aftermath of trauma - physical, mental, and
or emotional. That which cracks open
the boxes we construct to shape and order life, if we survive the fear and
despair of surrendering our defenses, can open us to whole new possibilities of
life and being in God. Trauma breaks
the walls by which we convince ourselves we control our lives. In
pain and fear, it is human to abandon, deny, curse God. Young’s
gospel says it’s okay.
Mack, for the sake of his family that he sees
needing a husband and father, to be manly, has tried to rise from the great
sadness, burying his anger and guilt. But
finally, he cannot escape it. With
all of that, Mack has come to the shack. Elousia
says, “Mackenzie, I know that your heart is full of pain and anger and a lot
of confusion. Together, you and I, we’ll get around to some of that while
you’re here. . . As much as you are able, rest in what trust you have in me,
no matter how small, okay?” (5) Much
of the story is the unburdening of that pain and anger and confusion, too much
to detail here. Young’s Gospel
says that God elicits, encourages, nurtures the release of the reaction to
trauma that we know psychologically become the post traumatic syndromes that
understanding alone is limited in healing.
In the Gospel according to Young, God rises above
the ashes of the omnipotent who at best doesn’t prevent tragedy or at worst
causes it for some unfathomable purpose. “Mack,”
says Papa, “just because I work incredible good out of unspeakable tragedies
doesn’t mean I orchestrate the tragedies. Don’t
ever assume that my using something means that I caused it or I need it to
accomplish my purposes. That will
only lead you to false notions about me, Grace doesn’t depend on suffering to
exist, but where there is suffering you will find grace in many facets and
colors.” (6)
The traditional Gospels include in their story
line, gems of wisdom and inspiration. So
does the Gospel according to Young. Tragedy always leaves a weight of guilt.
As the story nears its end, Sarayu stood in front
of Mack and spoke, “Mackenzie, now that you are going back, I have one more gift for you to
take.”
“What
is it?” Mack asked, curious about anything Sarayu might give.
“It
is for Kate,” she said.
“Kate?”
exclaimed Mack, realizing that he still carried her as a burden in his heart.
“Please tell me.”
“Kate
believes that she is to blame for Missy’s death.”
Mack
was stunned. What Sarayu had told
him was so obvious. It made perfect
sense that Kate would blame herself.( It had been Kate’s totally innocent,
accidental miscue that had led to Mack leaving Missy alone the moments she was
abducted.) He couldn’t believe the
thought had never crossed his mind. In
one moment, Sarayu’s words opened up a new vista into Kate’s struggle.
(7)
Guilt, not always real and rational haunts usually
those who have been most conscientious and intensely and positively involved in
tragic situations. It takes the love
and acceptance and forgiving spirit that is God to find the crack that brings
light again into that dark hole.
I just mentioned forgiving. A
couple of months ago, I was at Gowanda Correctional Facility as a member of the
team leading a day long seminar. During
a break, I was with a couple of the inmates who talked about reading The
Shack. One of them described his
perspective as a child abuser and what the book had meant to him. I
admitted to him that I had never thought of it that way.
When I did my Chaplain residency in Clinical
Pastoral education, the hospital where I trained was one of two facilities in
Papa
said, “I want to show you something that is going to be very painful for
you.”
“Okay?”
Mack’s stomach started to churn. . .”What is it?”
“To
help you see it, I want to take away one thing more that darkens your heart.”
Mack
knew immediately what it was and, turning his gaze away from Papa, started
boring a hole with his eyes into the ground between his feet.
Papa
spoke gently and reassuringly. “Son, this is not about shaming you. I
don’t do humiliation, or guilt, or condemnation. They
don’t produce one speck of wholeness or righteousness. . .Today we are on a
healing trail to bring closure to this part of your journey - not just for you,
but for others as well. Today, we
are throwing a big rock into the lake and those ripples will reach places you
would not expect. You already know
what I want, don’t you?”
“I’m
afraid I do,” Mack mumbled, feeling emotions rising as they seeped out of a
locked room in his heart.
“Son,
you need to speak it, to name it.”
Now
there was no holding back as hot tears poured down his face and between sobs
Mack began to confess .”Papa,”
he cried, “how can I ever forgive that *-*#
who killed Missy. If he were here
today, I don’t know what I would do. I
know it isn’t right, but I want him to hurt like he hurt me. . .if I can’t
get justice, I still want revenge.”
Papa
simply let the torrent rush out of Mack, waiting for the wave to pass.
“Mack,
for you to forgive this man is for you to release him to me and allow me to
redeem him.”
“Redeem
him?” Again Mack felt the fire of
anger and hurt. “I don’t want
you to redeem him! I want you to
hurt him, to punish him, to put him in hell. . .I’m stuck, Papa. I
just can’t forget what he did, can I?” Mack implored.
“Forgiveness
is not about forgetting, Mack. It is
about letting go of another person’s throat.”
“But
I thought you forget our sins?”
“Mack,
I am God. I forget nothing.”
“But
this man. . .”
“But
this man too is my son. I want to
redeem him.
So
what then? I just forgive him and everything is okay, and we become buddies?” Mack
said softly but sarcastically.
“You
don’t have a relationship with this man, at least not yet. Forgiveness
does not establish relationship. . . .Mackenzie, don’t you see that
forgiveness is an incredible power—a power you share with us. . . .
“I
don’t think I can do this,” Mack answered softly.
“I
want you to. Forgiveness is first
for you, the forgiver,” answered Papa, “to release you from something that
will eat you alive; that will destroy your joy and your ability to love fully
and openly. Do you think this man
cares about the pain and torment you have gone through? If
anything, he feeds on that knowledge. Don’t
you want to cut that off? And in
doing so, you’ll release him from a burden he carries whether he knows it or
not—acknowledges it or not. When
you choose to forgiver another, you love him well.”
“I
do not love him.”
“Not
today, you don’t. But I do, Mack,
not for what he’s become, but for the broken child that has been twisted by
his pain. I want to help you take on
that nature that finds more power in love and forgiveness than hate.” . .
.“Mackenzie, forgiveness does not excuse anything. Believe
me, the last thing this man is, is free.”
With
his eyes now closed, rocking back and forth, he pleaded, “Help me, Papa. Help
me! What do I do? How do I forgive him?”
“Just
say it out loud. There is power in
what my children declare.”
Mack
began to whisper in tones first half hearted and stumbling, but then with
increasing conviction. “I forgive
you. I forgive you. I forgive you.”
Papa
held him close. “Mackenzie, you are such a joy.”
When
Mack finally collected himself, he stood up “Wow!”
he said. He felt alive! He
handed the kerchief back to Papa and asked, “So is it alright if I’m still
angry?”
Papa
was quick to respond, “Absolutely! What
he did was terrible. He caused
incredible pain to many. It was
wrong and anger is the right response to something that is so wrong. But
don’t let the anger and pain and loss you feel prevent you from forgiving him
and removing your hands from around his neck.”
. . . Son, you may have to declare your forgiveness a hundred times the
first day and the second day, but the third day it will be less and each day
after, until one day you will realize that you have forgiven completely.” (8)
When
Mack returned from his visit with Papa and shared finally with his wife,
And
oh, and there was a message for Willie, Mack’s friend from whom he had
borrowed the jeep. “Tell Willie
that I’m especially fond of him.” (9)
It’s a novel. It’s a work of fiction—the musing of the writer’s mind and imagination. But, it’s Gospel, too!
Amen.
(1)
The Shack by
William P. Young; Windblown Media p.
16
(2)
P.
8
(3)
P.
83
(4)
P.
86-7
(5)
P.
102
(6)
P.
185
(7)
P.
235-6
(8)
P.
223-7
(9)
P.
242
© Copyright 2009 First Presbyterian Church