Hello,
In the late 1970’s (which doesn’t seem all that long ago to me) I went to see my first stage show, “The Wiz”. I was going to Valparaiso University at the time, which was in driving range of Chicago. I got up enough nerve to ask a girl to go with me, so when the day of the show came, I picked her up at her dorm in my red Gold Duster with a black vinyl top and off we went to the Shubert Theater in downtown Chicago.
“The Wiz” was a musical
adaptation of the story of the Wizard of Oz with upbeat music and flashy 70’s costumes. Since it was my first stage show, musical or play, I found myself amazed at the ability of the actors to carry their parts, at the creativity of the set, and at the music that brought life to the story.
Now, almost fifty years later, there is one song, whose chorus still sticks in my mind. It was sung by the Wicked Witch of the West, who I recall as being a large person with an equally large voice, decked out in a dark, poofy dress (see the picture...she wasn’t green!) And the song ….. “Don’t nobody bring me no bad news!”
I don’t know for certain why that song has etched itself in my brain, but my guess is that its lyrics echo an experienced truth. When things are falling apart, people don’t want to be further shaken by bad news. When things are going well, people don’t want to be soured by bad news. When things are deathly scary, the last thing a person wants is bad news. “Don’t nobody bring me no bad news!”
My recollection of how the Wicked Witch of the West responded to the incoming news that she didn’t want to hear was that she turned away from the bearer of the news and stomped her way to the other side of the stage. I find myself prone to likewise respond. Put up my hand as if I was a traffic cop, turn my head to the side, rotate my back to the news bearer’s direction, and walk away.
Over and over in the book of Psalms in the Bible, the plea of one coming to God with bad news is heard, “Turn not your face away from me.” I would feel pretty safe in wagering that every one of us has found those words, or similar words rolling over our lips. They are words of the deepest fear. “Don’t shut the door on me,” to one of your kids when you have made a big mistake as a parent. “Don’t walk away from me,” to a spouse when a marriage has been hit by a collision. “Don’t let me go,” to a boss when you have messed up on the job. “Don’t turn your back on me,” to a friend when you’ve dug a hole for yourself and fallen into it.
As frightening as those words might be for us to say when dealing with others, their fright is monumentally higher when dealing with God. After all, there is an essential dynamic going on when it comes to God, and there is an eternal dynamic going on with God. If God, the giver of life, turns his back on me, that makes my life of less worth than a dirty paper plate. If God, the sustainer of life, hands me a universal pink slip, what am I to do with my life? If God, the one whose days are beyond this life, shuts the door on me, where can I go for shelter from the eternal cold? It is a frightening thing to consider the news that I bring daily to God. Might God sing to me, “Don’t nobody bring me no bad news?”
I don’t know about you, but I know for myself, when I am facing the most fearful of fears, “maybe’s”, “I think so’s”, or “some so and so says so’s” do me no good. Such responses just deepen my fears. No, I need to hear from the receiver of my bad news that my bad news is welcome. I need to feel the embrace of the receiver when I speak my bad news to know that I am still cared for. I need to have the receiver of my news look me square in the eye with grace and mercy and say, “I couldn’t love you any more than I do right now.”
And that is what God has done for you and me, bringers of bad news. He sent Jesus, the Word of God, to tell us of God’s forgiveness. He sent Jesus, the Son of God, to stretch out his arms on the cross to enfold us with a limitless embrace. He sent Jesus, whose love splashes on us individually in the waters of Baptism, and who unites himself with us in the bread and wine at his table, to squarely look at us and say, “You are my child; my beloved; with you I am well pleased.
The world might say, “Don’t nobody bring me no bad news,” but know this: God says, “Come to me all you that are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”
Have a great week.
God’s grace and peace, (ggap)
Pastor Jerry Nuernberger