THE DISCIPLINE OF DISTANCE

THE DISCIPLINE OF DISTANCE

An extraordinary author by the name of Chaim Potok writes extensively about the life experiences of Hasidic Jews.  He penned numerous novels that I have enjoyed over the years: “In The Beginning,” “The Book of Lights,” “Davita’s Harp,” “My Name is Asher Lev,” “The Promise,” and my all-time favorite, “The Chosen.”

In Potok’s book, “The Chosen” he spins the story of Danny Saunders, the eldest son of a strict Hasidic Rabbi.  For many years, Danny’s brilliant yet very human father, never spoke one word to his son, except when teaching him out of the Torah and Talmud.

On the surface, this total silence appears to be a terrible act of cruelty, but one day the mystery is revealed.  Rabbi Saunders explains that God has blessed him with a remarkable son, a child with a mind as rare and precious as a jewel.  When Danny was just four years old, his father saw him reading a book and became frightened.  The book described the suffering of a poor Jew, yet Danny appeared to thoroughly enjoy it!

In Rabbi Saunders’ view, “There was no soul in my 4-year-old Daniel, there was only a mind.”  The Rabbi cried out to God, “What have you done to me?  A mind like this I need for a son?  A heart I need for a son, a soul I need for a son, compassion, righteousness, strength to suffer and carry pain.”

Thereafter Rabbi Saunders followed an ancient Hasidic tradition and brought his boy up with a bare minimum of words passed between them.  The result – from the Rabbi’s point of view? “In the silence between us, Danny began to hear the world crying.”

If this story sounds vaguely familiar, it is due to this fact: Every mature Christian has experienced those lonely moments when GOD appeared to be absolutely silent, entirely absent from our circumstances.  Prayer seems somehow hollow and ineffective when GOD is MIA, missing in action.  Frantically, we ask ourselves, “Does Heaven even HEAR us?  Oh GOD…are you there?”  At such times, we enter into a careful soul-searching, an honest self-examination.  But quite often, no transgression is found that tells us ‘WHY’ God has gone on sabbatical.  We feel isolated.  We feel desperate and fearful that He might not soon return to us.

But the promises of God are steadfast and sure. (Hebrews 6:19)  What did Jesus Christ say?  “Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:20, NKJV)

But God’s teaching methodology is reflected and repeated in His creation.  Those seasons of silence are much like the moment when the soaring eagle drops its eaglet into the upper atmosphere, trusting that there is sufficient strength and knowledge to soar on its own.  Those seasons of silence are much like the moment when I removed training wheels from the bicycle of Wayne II, or Mike, or Kim – giving them one hopeful push while trusting that I had been a skillful tutor and they had been attentive learners. 

Rabbi Saunders always loved his son.  The mature eagle is always nearby.  Likewise, the watchful parent never leaves the scene.  But mission-critical lessons of trust and faith that reside in their apparent silence and distance.

GOD HAS NOT FORGOTTEN YOU.  LESSON LEARNED.

Sometimes, He is merely allowing space for your spiritual and emotional development, i.e. the priceless opportunity to be experientially conformed to the image of Christ.  So don’t stress.  There is purpose in the pressure.  And there is destiny in what only ‘looks like’ distance.

Look around you, my friend.  JEHOVAH SHAMMAH IS THERE. (Ezekiel 48:35)

Sisters and brothers, be continually blessed, and please (above all else) MAKE SURE YOU ARE READY TO MEET OUR SOON COMING KING. Maranatha!