Oh. To be Amish.
Yes, I really said that. I have a tattoo, several piercings, enjoy my 2009 Hyundai, and probably couldn't live without electricity. But in a recent seminar about some basics of Amish beliefs and histories, I stumbled upon what, I think, is one part of the answer of the "problem" of our culture.
I've been discussing in recent weeks the struggle teenagers and middle-school kids have with purity. purity of thought, speech, interactions, respect for the opposite gender, sexuality, dress, etc. And we've got a great message: Jesus calls you to be an example in purity. And the best part - the Holy Spirit can give you the power to actually combat all of the cultural bombardments that tell us otherwise. Great stuff. But, still insanely hard. Why? main reason for young girls (read: those who engage in sexting) is because they are missing fathers, mothers, are products of divorce, step-parents, second and third marriages, and so on. Thus, with their disconnected and often self-centered parent(s) or guardian(s), they feel the need to be loved. Girls, being so emotionally centered, feel it very acutely in their junior high years. They may or may not know it, but they search for someone, anyone really, to say "I need you. I love you. I want you. I can't resist you, you are beloved and you are mine." with any sort of intonation behind those words. If they're lucky, and maybe a little determined, they'll hear Jesus whispering that through connections with churches, nature, mentors, and so on. If they're the majority, they will look for those words in guys without their best interest in mind, in relationships in general, in unfortunate addictions such as alcohol and drugs, sometimes pornography (junior high girls are the fastest rising market for porn), and many, many more places.
How do we stop this? Often, girls realize that they need to live better lives, that there has to be something beyond the drama,the gossip, the boys touching them, the parents and fighting and abercrombie, etc. something. anything. anything to save them from this havoc-creating world.
My husband preaches that we have to cut off problems at the root. Any good psychologist/counselor would say the same. Not that we can just uproot our entire culture and say "its time for a change, lets head back into the direction of our puritan roots," but that if we strive to live selflessly, the way God meant for us to live, these problems will, literally over time, start to evaporate.
Here's where I see the root of the problem, and why I brought the Lancaster County phenomenon up: Broken families. Yes, I'll even say it, Jesus says it, and Paul says it: Divorce. Its the result of living focused on one-self, not focused on your spouse, as God designed it to be (note: I'm not barring legitimate, biblical reasons for divorce, namely adultery and/or abuse. Check out Gayle Haggard's response to even this one exception: Gayle: "I know your hearts are broken; mine is as well ... What I want you to know is that I love my husband, Ted Haggard, with all my heart. I am committed to him until death "do us part." We started this journey together and with the grace of God, we will finish together."Source: NewLifeChurch.org 11/5/2006).
Its an ugly truth. Ugly to our culture, ugly to the direction we've been going in for literally centuries. But God's pretty clear about this one. We don't like to hear it. Divorce is a nice option when you realize you're not "compatible," sexually satisfied, the center of the relationship, the one calling the shots, and on and on and on down an endless and fatal road. Its nice to know you can date other people, maybe even remarry.
But its wrong. And you know why I think this - other than the very obvious biblical statements? Because I can see the Amish community.
Fact: The Old Order Amish in Lancaster county (black buggies, no electricity, home churches, no state or national overarching organization) retain 9 out of 10 of the kids and youth that grow up in their culture. 90 percent. 90 PERCENT. Show me ONE church that claims to do that. The Catholic church comes close, or used to anyway, because of their youth catechism classes and their ritualistic practices ingrained for life in their parishioners. Not anymore.
And its not like its a blind following here. Every teen gets like four years to go out and do whatever they want, and they will be welcomed back with open arms if they choose to join the church and be baptised around the age of 20. They taste our culture. And not once, not some sort of American streamlined shock, but for years! and they choose to go back to their life. Why? arguably, its simpler with less drama. But there's less individual focus, less privacy, and face it, more hard labor!
Here's why: family. With an average of 7 kids in each family, the Amish children aren't neglected or left to fend for themselves. They grow up spending their entire lives knowing that they are loved. Individuals in Amish communities often have their own special nicknames. They are part of a collective whole that live and move and support each other in everything they do, and they are treasured individually, from birth, for the part they play in that. There is no divorce (or only on the rarest and often rough occasions). Death is a part of life. Hard work is a given, frugality is a must, caring for one another is the bottom line. Widows are loved like mothers, orphans are embraced like biological children. Hurts are healed, pain is born, connection is uppermost.
The Amish are the American puritans before the industrial revolution. A family that prays together, stays together, lives together, loves together. Their love is not, cannot be self-focused. There is no place for that. There is no teaching for that (I'm not undermining self-confidence, that's a whole 'nother topic that I happen to think being a beloved child both at birth and forever after contributes positively too). There is no premise for choosing self over family, siblings, or friends in the community.
Not that its utopia. There are many glitches and inconsistencies in that community. But their basis of culture maintains the family structure as God created it in perfection to be: whole.
So, yes. In many ways, I wouldn't mind being Amish.
4.20.2009
4.13.2009
Wine spilling everywhere
From Luke Chapter 5:
33They said to him, "John's disciples often fast and pray, and so do the disciples of the Pharisees, but yours go on eating and drinking."
34Jesus answered, "Can you make the guests of the bridegroom fast while he is with them? 35But the time will come when the bridegroom will be taken from them; in those days they will fast."
36He told them this parable: "No one tears a patch from a new garment and sews it on an old one. If he does, he will have torn the new garment, and the patch from the new will not match the old. 37And no one pours new wine into old wineskins. If he does, the new wine will burst the skins, the wine will run out and the wineskins will be ruined. 38No, new wine must be poured into new wineskins. 39And no one after drinking old wine wants the new, for he says, 'The old is better.' "
The new living translation of that last verse reads: But no one who drinks the old wine seems to want the new wine. ‘The old is just fine,’ they say.”
I was intrigued by this parable over the weekend. Partly because I was sitting in an Easter Sunday service that included a rendition of “You Found Me” by The Fray, rather than the marchy-nazarene song “Up from the grave he arose!” and partly because I usually find Jesus’ parables both so profound and so cryptic that I love to try to take them apart and explore the context. This one is interesting. Jesus just went around healing bunches of people. Each time he heals them, he says not to say anything to anyone. Either a clever marketing ploy or a genuine strain towards secrecy: it doesn’t work. No matter where he goes, people know who He is and the power He has. Both those who have faith and wish to be healed, and those who lack faith and don’t think they need healing. The Pharisees and saducees, namely. So sometimes, Luke tells about the person who comes up and says “if you are willing, heal me.” But other times, Luke writes very blatantly about how church leaders questioned Jesus outright.
This case is of the latter. Self-important people (for this is not an inquisitive-type question, this is a challenge question) ask Jesus why everyone else who is supposedly religious fast and pray, but Jesus apparently nourishes himself all the time. His direct answer confuses them. He basically says “party with the King, dude, why mourn when you’ll have time for that later.”
But His parable is the real answer to the question. The parable, talking about very practical things like clothes and wine, two staples of Jewish life, discusses the quality of each. No one decides to half-heartedly update and old, holey garment with a shiny new patch of fabric. It looks stupid. If you are going to patch an old garment, use old cloth. Ah, but if you are going to have a new shirt, then have one! Don’t do the job half-way.
Same with the wineskins. This example is a little more graphic. If you pour new wine into old wineskins, it will literally burst the old skins at the seams, and wine will spill everywhere. If you want to do it right, you have to get new skins to hold the new liquid. There’s no two ways about it, no shortcuts. New goes with new, old goes with old.
Gentle though it is, this rebuke is still explicit. You cannot say to Jesus, Yo, why aren’t you doing everything the way we always did things. The way we’re supposed to do things. The way it makes sense to do things?!
And Jesus said – because you can’t fit new stuff into old clothes. The skins will burst. The outfits will be ruined. The reputation will cease. If you want new stuff, and believe you me, He came with some new stuff in His mission statement, you gotta go the whole way. 100%. New. Not old. You can’t just hang on to that old pair of pants and replace the shoes and the shirt. It’s gotta be all new.
And here’s the cool part.We don’t have to be or get the new stuff ourselves. It doesn’t outline in the Bible where sinner have to change their ways, and then Jesus can take a look-see, maybe set up camp. It doesn’t say we have to use our own willpower and goals list, be our own heroes and change the world (see post later from my husband about the mis-step in the Men’s Frat teaching), and when we’re good enough, humble enough, successful enough, missional-minded enough, sacrificial enough, then Jesus will hang out with us.
Nuh uh.
It says, He’ll go ahead and give us all the new stuff Himself!! Because, lets face it, we can’t be all that. We can try really hard, and we can make resolutions and to-do lists and suffer through, but we will never be as Christ-like as Jesus Himself without letting Him commit and do the cleansing. (Note: I’m not for the “I’ll lay on the couch and think Christian thoughts and let Jesus figure out how to fix me” at all, I’m all for going out and serving and sacrificing and building relationships. I just want to make the point that we can’t do it ourselves and then sometimes talk to Jesus. It’s a God-thing. He’s all over it.)
All that to say. I hope I can become the kind of person who doesn’t stick to “the old is just fine,” Parts of the church, my soul, and my life. Because, the old isn’t just fine. The old has gone, the new has come. I want to live like that’s the reality in my life.
33They said to him, "John's disciples often fast and pray, and so do the disciples of the Pharisees, but yours go on eating and drinking."
34Jesus answered, "Can you make the guests of the bridegroom fast while he is with them? 35But the time will come when the bridegroom will be taken from them; in those days they will fast."
36He told them this parable: "No one tears a patch from a new garment and sews it on an old one. If he does, he will have torn the new garment, and the patch from the new will not match the old. 37And no one pours new wine into old wineskins. If he does, the new wine will burst the skins, the wine will run out and the wineskins will be ruined. 38No, new wine must be poured into new wineskins. 39And no one after drinking old wine wants the new, for he says, 'The old is better.' "
The new living translation of that last verse reads: But no one who drinks the old wine seems to want the new wine. ‘The old is just fine,’ they say.”
I was intrigued by this parable over the weekend. Partly because I was sitting in an Easter Sunday service that included a rendition of “You Found Me” by The Fray, rather than the marchy-nazarene song “Up from the grave he arose!” and partly because I usually find Jesus’ parables both so profound and so cryptic that I love to try to take them apart and explore the context. This one is interesting. Jesus just went around healing bunches of people. Each time he heals them, he says not to say anything to anyone. Either a clever marketing ploy or a genuine strain towards secrecy: it doesn’t work. No matter where he goes, people know who He is and the power He has. Both those who have faith and wish to be healed, and those who lack faith and don’t think they need healing. The Pharisees and saducees, namely. So sometimes, Luke tells about the person who comes up and says “if you are willing, heal me.” But other times, Luke writes very blatantly about how church leaders questioned Jesus outright.
This case is of the latter. Self-important people (for this is not an inquisitive-type question, this is a challenge question) ask Jesus why everyone else who is supposedly religious fast and pray, but Jesus apparently nourishes himself all the time. His direct answer confuses them. He basically says “party with the King, dude, why mourn when you’ll have time for that later.”
But His parable is the real answer to the question. The parable, talking about very practical things like clothes and wine, two staples of Jewish life, discusses the quality of each. No one decides to half-heartedly update and old, holey garment with a shiny new patch of fabric. It looks stupid. If you are going to patch an old garment, use old cloth. Ah, but if you are going to have a new shirt, then have one! Don’t do the job half-way.
Same with the wineskins. This example is a little more graphic. If you pour new wine into old wineskins, it will literally burst the old skins at the seams, and wine will spill everywhere. If you want to do it right, you have to get new skins to hold the new liquid. There’s no two ways about it, no shortcuts. New goes with new, old goes with old.
Gentle though it is, this rebuke is still explicit. You cannot say to Jesus, Yo, why aren’t you doing everything the way we always did things. The way we’re supposed to do things. The way it makes sense to do things?!
And Jesus said – because you can’t fit new stuff into old clothes. The skins will burst. The outfits will be ruined. The reputation will cease. If you want new stuff, and believe you me, He came with some new stuff in His mission statement, you gotta go the whole way. 100%. New. Not old. You can’t just hang on to that old pair of pants and replace the shoes and the shirt. It’s gotta be all new.
And here’s the cool part.We don’t have to be or get the new stuff ourselves. It doesn’t outline in the Bible where sinner have to change their ways, and then Jesus can take a look-see, maybe set up camp. It doesn’t say we have to use our own willpower and goals list, be our own heroes and change the world (see post later from my husband about the mis-step in the Men’s Frat teaching), and when we’re good enough, humble enough, successful enough, missional-minded enough, sacrificial enough, then Jesus will hang out with us.
Nuh uh.
It says, He’ll go ahead and give us all the new stuff Himself!! Because, lets face it, we can’t be all that. We can try really hard, and we can make resolutions and to-do lists and suffer through, but we will never be as Christ-like as Jesus Himself without letting Him commit and do the cleansing. (Note: I’m not for the “I’ll lay on the couch and think Christian thoughts and let Jesus figure out how to fix me” at all, I’m all for going out and serving and sacrificing and building relationships. I just want to make the point that we can’t do it ourselves and then sometimes talk to Jesus. It’s a God-thing. He’s all over it.)
All that to say. I hope I can become the kind of person who doesn’t stick to “the old is just fine,” Parts of the church, my soul, and my life. Because, the old isn’t just fine. The old has gone, the new has come. I want to live like that’s the reality in my life.
3.30.2009
Love everlasting
This post is dedicated to my simply amazing junior high life group - I think they teach me more than I teach them most of the time!!
We've been working through a series describing and exploring the week before Jesus' death in church for about a month. We picked up the story at the triumphal entry, discussing his peaceful entry, followed it through his accusing the Pharisees to stop being hypocrites, through being honest and genuine, and this week touched on forgiveness in the form of an intense narrative of Peter's last days with Jesus.
After these lessons, we had discussion as a group of what the girls' had learned in the past few weeks.
A couple of girls presented some incredibly deep thoughts. One in particular described a bit that the pastor had said in his monologue:
"When Peter denied Christ the third time, he said that Jesus looked right at him when he swore to God that he'd never known the man before, and Jesus' eyes weren't full of disappointment, hate, or anger. They were full of love."
I have no words for that. because she captured the essence of grace in that moment. The story that we live every day. We make the wrong choice. We choose to undermine, to not give our best, to look to ourselves instead of to Christ. And He looks back at us, even in the moment when he was bleeding, failing from pain, dying, falling. and He sees his child, His beautiful one. He loves in the midst of betrayal. He extends mercy in the moment of blackest sin. He looks right at us, and there is not one trace of rejection in His eyes.
Sam, you brought it to the table. you opened my eyes, and probably several others. Way to be like Jesus.
We've been working through a series describing and exploring the week before Jesus' death in church for about a month. We picked up the story at the triumphal entry, discussing his peaceful entry, followed it through his accusing the Pharisees to stop being hypocrites, through being honest and genuine, and this week touched on forgiveness in the form of an intense narrative of Peter's last days with Jesus.
After these lessons, we had discussion as a group of what the girls' had learned in the past few weeks.
A couple of girls presented some incredibly deep thoughts. One in particular described a bit that the pastor had said in his monologue:
"When Peter denied Christ the third time, he said that Jesus looked right at him when he swore to God that he'd never known the man before, and Jesus' eyes weren't full of disappointment, hate, or anger. They were full of love."
I have no words for that. because she captured the essence of grace in that moment. The story that we live every day. We make the wrong choice. We choose to undermine, to not give our best, to look to ourselves instead of to Christ. And He looks back at us, even in the moment when he was bleeding, failing from pain, dying, falling. and He sees his child, His beautiful one. He loves in the midst of betrayal. He extends mercy in the moment of blackest sin. He looks right at us, and there is not one trace of rejection in His eyes.
Sam, you brought it to the table. you opened my eyes, and probably several others. Way to be like Jesus.
3.25.2009
Relaxi cab
Anyone get the reference of the title? Okay, I'm a friends fanatic. Anyway.
I don't actually have too much to post about, except the ongoing miracles of God's grace. As usual:)
I discovered two things on my recent vacation: 1) it takes at least 48 hours until I can actually relax. EVEN on a vacation with nothing else to do BUT relax. 2) it takes me 48 hours to stop freaking out once I've relaxed and then have to go back to real life.
In the first instance, I couldn't calm my mind or body from my constantly moving, reading, list-making, task-checking-off, communicating, chore-doing, errand-running, idea-shooting, deadline-writing self. The entire first day, on an empty beach, with a dos equis, in Mexico, for crying out loud, all I could think about was how I needed to find an atm, maybe cash in those travelers checks, figure out what we were having for dinner, make sure to remember to take pictures, etc. I'm not even kidding here.
With the help of my husband, some Mexican tequila, and the sweetness that is God's spirit saying hold on my daughter, i really didn't design a life to be sprinted through, I figured it out.
However, the entire day of traveling back, I began to get more and more nervous. I have two jobs, one self-employed job, and a lot of friends and responsibilities to keep up with. Though anyone I regularly interact with knew I'd be gone, I still knew that all three of my inboxes would be simply overrun. and with a 12 hour workday starting at seven a.m., I was not anxious to plunge into that. Much less including the fact that I didn't fall asleep until after 1 a.m., there is nothing in the house to eat, no laundry has been done, and so on. I literally couldn't sleep because I was stressing so much about this. Granted the day that began with very few hours of sleep, and then 18 hours of travel probably didn't help my anxiety levels.
All that to say. God works in both earth-shattering and tiny, nearly imperceptible ways. I managed to both sleep in, calling in to my first job of the day, and also go through the emails in two of my inboxes in less than 8 hours - in between other projects. But still. I figured I'd have days of follow-up ahead of me.
I should add the silly note that I also tried to cook a conventional oven frozen pizza in the microwave today. I put it on high for four minutes, and though it didn't explode or anything, it was nearly inedible. Which is why I had a backup muffin :)
Sometimes i start to think that God doesn't care about the pathetic teeny details of my life that seem to be the biggest stresses to me. But then, I see His hand doing exactly what needs to be done. Not erasing pain, highlighting my faults, or displaying my shortcomings. Rather, holding my hand. And, as I discovered on a rather seasick-tinged boat ride, often, holding someones hand (particularly, I might add, either your husband's, father's or the Creator of the Universe's), makes all the difference in the world.
P.S. for photos of our trip - feel free to take a look at my facebook page. though you should probably wait until later this evening when I finally get off work :)
I don't actually have too much to post about, except the ongoing miracles of God's grace. As usual:)
I discovered two things on my recent vacation: 1) it takes at least 48 hours until I can actually relax. EVEN on a vacation with nothing else to do BUT relax. 2) it takes me 48 hours to stop freaking out once I've relaxed and then have to go back to real life.
In the first instance, I couldn't calm my mind or body from my constantly moving, reading, list-making, task-checking-off, communicating, chore-doing, errand-running, idea-shooting, deadline-writing self. The entire first day, on an empty beach, with a dos equis, in Mexico, for crying out loud, all I could think about was how I needed to find an atm, maybe cash in those travelers checks, figure out what we were having for dinner, make sure to remember to take pictures, etc. I'm not even kidding here.
With the help of my husband, some Mexican tequila, and the sweetness that is God's spirit saying hold on my daughter, i really didn't design a life to be sprinted through, I figured it out.
However, the entire day of traveling back, I began to get more and more nervous. I have two jobs, one self-employed job, and a lot of friends and responsibilities to keep up with. Though anyone I regularly interact with knew I'd be gone, I still knew that all three of my inboxes would be simply overrun. and with a 12 hour workday starting at seven a.m., I was not anxious to plunge into that. Much less including the fact that I didn't fall asleep until after 1 a.m., there is nothing in the house to eat, no laundry has been done, and so on. I literally couldn't sleep because I was stressing so much about this. Granted the day that began with very few hours of sleep, and then 18 hours of travel probably didn't help my anxiety levels.
All that to say. God works in both earth-shattering and tiny, nearly imperceptible ways. I managed to both sleep in, calling in to my first job of the day, and also go through the emails in two of my inboxes in less than 8 hours - in between other projects. But still. I figured I'd have days of follow-up ahead of me.
I should add the silly note that I also tried to cook a conventional oven frozen pizza in the microwave today. I put it on high for four minutes, and though it didn't explode or anything, it was nearly inedible. Which is why I had a backup muffin :)
Sometimes i start to think that God doesn't care about the pathetic teeny details of my life that seem to be the biggest stresses to me. But then, I see His hand doing exactly what needs to be done. Not erasing pain, highlighting my faults, or displaying my shortcomings. Rather, holding my hand. And, as I discovered on a rather seasick-tinged boat ride, often, holding someones hand (particularly, I might add, either your husband's, father's or the Creator of the Universe's), makes all the difference in the world.
P.S. for photos of our trip - feel free to take a look at my facebook page. though you should probably wait until later this evening when I finally get off work :)
2.24.2009
drowning in ignorance
‘Faith is believing God and asking no questions,” reads a letter to the editor written in to the newspaper I work at.
When I called the gentleman who penned it to inquire about the source of the quote, which he had indicated was from the Bible, he explained that he read a book on faith years ago and he carries that quote around with him.
Pardon me while I scream and slam down the phone.
Now, I don’t know the name of the book, or of the idiot author who is either very messed up or does not know how to communicate well. Either way, please, please, please, never fall into this blind conservatism trap (or stay in Lancaster County, Pa. For too long).
Close consideration and exploration, the only kind, really, needs to be delved into in the scriptures. Not some book. Not some biased, self-shoving beliefs un-based in scripture book.
Lets take a look at a couple of stories. Some logically provided by my brilliant-as-ever husband.
First, my favorite: Abraham. Great Guy. Went from a two-syllable name to a three-syllable name, very significant with the whole God changing your name/identity bit there. God hung out with him, appeared randomly to him, promised him basically the world.
And yet, repeatedly, Abe questions. And not even the philosophical, debating, weighing options type of questions, shouting at the sky and all that (though I’m sure much of that was involved). He openly acted in doubt. He impregnated a concubine, doubting the very word of God from the Dude’s own lips! And this is not some stranger who God freaked out by appearing in a long-forgotten dream. This is a guy who knew God, personally, conversed with him, was hand-selected to build an entire nation of the world by Him. Seriously.
Next example: Joseph. Poor dude, this guy’s life story is rife with conflict, muckyness, and downright depression. Now, the moral of the story is that he trusted God to do what was best for him. The reality of the moral? You better believe when he was thrown down the well, left for dead, sold into slavery, sent to prison, etc., that he had some shouting matches with God. Joseph, though young and apparently colorful, was no pushover, he rose to be the second greatest commander in Egypt, a very power-hungry place! There is NO WAY Joseph didn’t question God’s plan. Not one iota of way there.
Lets skip to the new testament. What better example than Jesus himself? He trusted God, absolutely. He had faith. But he did not live his life as a door mat (pacifist, but not doormat). He literally said to his own father “please take this cup from me,” Hows that for questioning. Hey, the one thing you want me to do in this world? I’d be okay if you would just leave off, lets not and say we did. Wha…?! Yes, Jesus himself, man and God, questions his own destiny, his own faith in his own mission, the only mission to ever be able to save the world!
I am abstaining from the fourteen exclamation points now.
And those are just the stories with examples. That’s not even considering the directions specifically stated in scripture, like 1 Thess. 5:21, “prove all things; hold fast to that which is good.” Or Acts chapter 17, when it talks about the church searching the scriptures to find proof for what they were being told.
People. Faith is trusting without concrete, tangible evidence, yes, but faith is not, and is not meant to be, trusting without conversation. Without asking, without exploring, without THINKING about what you believe. Heavens no, as my mother would say.
Faith is real. And real is dirty, gritty, doubtful, joyful, painful, fearful, triumphant. Faith is not believing and asking no questions. Faith is believing amidst the questions.
When I called the gentleman who penned it to inquire about the source of the quote, which he had indicated was from the Bible, he explained that he read a book on faith years ago and he carries that quote around with him.
Pardon me while I scream and slam down the phone.
Now, I don’t know the name of the book, or of the idiot author who is either very messed up or does not know how to communicate well. Either way, please, please, please, never fall into this blind conservatism trap (or stay in Lancaster County, Pa. For too long).
Close consideration and exploration, the only kind, really, needs to be delved into in the scriptures. Not some book. Not some biased, self-shoving beliefs un-based in scripture book.
Lets take a look at a couple of stories. Some logically provided by my brilliant-as-ever husband.
First, my favorite: Abraham. Great Guy. Went from a two-syllable name to a three-syllable name, very significant with the whole God changing your name/identity bit there. God hung out with him, appeared randomly to him, promised him basically the world.
And yet, repeatedly, Abe questions. And not even the philosophical, debating, weighing options type of questions, shouting at the sky and all that (though I’m sure much of that was involved). He openly acted in doubt. He impregnated a concubine, doubting the very word of God from the Dude’s own lips! And this is not some stranger who God freaked out by appearing in a long-forgotten dream. This is a guy who knew God, personally, conversed with him, was hand-selected to build an entire nation of the world by Him. Seriously.
Next example: Joseph. Poor dude, this guy’s life story is rife with conflict, muckyness, and downright depression. Now, the moral of the story is that he trusted God to do what was best for him. The reality of the moral? You better believe when he was thrown down the well, left for dead, sold into slavery, sent to prison, etc., that he had some shouting matches with God. Joseph, though young and apparently colorful, was no pushover, he rose to be the second greatest commander in Egypt, a very power-hungry place! There is NO WAY Joseph didn’t question God’s plan. Not one iota of way there.
Lets skip to the new testament. What better example than Jesus himself? He trusted God, absolutely. He had faith. But he did not live his life as a door mat (pacifist, but not doormat). He literally said to his own father “please take this cup from me,” Hows that for questioning. Hey, the one thing you want me to do in this world? I’d be okay if you would just leave off, lets not and say we did. Wha…?! Yes, Jesus himself, man and God, questions his own destiny, his own faith in his own mission, the only mission to ever be able to save the world!
I am abstaining from the fourteen exclamation points now.
And those are just the stories with examples. That’s not even considering the directions specifically stated in scripture, like 1 Thess. 5:21, “prove all things; hold fast to that which is good.” Or Acts chapter 17, when it talks about the church searching the scriptures to find proof for what they were being told.
People. Faith is trusting without concrete, tangible evidence, yes, but faith is not, and is not meant to be, trusting without conversation. Without asking, without exploring, without THINKING about what you believe. Heavens no, as my mother would say.
Faith is real. And real is dirty, gritty, doubtful, joyful, painful, fearful, triumphant. Faith is not believing and asking no questions. Faith is believing amidst the questions.
2.23.2009
Hold my Hand
This has come up a lot recently in my devotional-esque thoughts. Holding Jesus’ hand.
So often, and I’m chatting with God throughout the day, the very needy and fearful thought returns to my mind again and again – hold my hand, Jesus. I know I’ll fall, I know I’ll fail, but if you just hold my hand, you can pull me back up and we can keep on walking down this road together.
I wrote a short devotional about this in my journal sometime in college. The story goes something like this:
A man and a little girl are walking through a slippery, crowded street. She is in her best dress, with her hair done up and shiny new shoes on her feet. She is ready to put her best foot forward.
Next to her, her dad holds out his hand, ready to hold hers as they push through the crowd.
At first, she doesn’t need his hand. She walks carefully, looking down, making sure her new shoes don’t get scuffed up, dodging knees and pants.
Then, she falls on her rear.
Tearing up a bit, and panicking because of all of the people around her, she squeeks a little and cries. She’s afraid her dad walked on, didn’t notice that she fell, or thought to himself “serves her right for showing off her new shoes and not paying attention.”
But she blindly, hoping, throws out her hand anyway, reaching as high as she can with fingers outstretched.
He grabs her hand with his big, solid warm ones. They are calloused and scarred, but they’re the strongest, most gentle hands she knows, and she trusts them.
He pulls her up, murmering and wiping away her tears.
They keep on walking.
This time, she holds his hand tightly.
But then, she starts getting impatient and uncomfortable. Repeatedly, she begs him to lift her up on his shoulder so she can see what’s ahead, and take the weight off of her feet for awhile.
Gently, he says no, he cannot do that. Not because he is incapable, but because that’s not what’s best for her, what his plan of their time includes.
She stomps her feet in frusteration and lets go of his hand, almost immediately flying face-first into the ground.
You see the point.
I was entertained by this as I listened to a sermon I had missed at church by John Wilkenson, our teen pastor, and possibly one of the greatest speakers I’ve ever heard. He told the story of how he went to a big farm shor in PA (because that’s what we do for fun here), and he and his family with three children got stuck in a bottle-necked crowd heading out of one section of the event. While there, a lady started screaming about how she had lost her son in the crowd, and she was shoving and yelling in desperation. At the same time, about every ten seconds, his son was asking, “where are we going? What’s up ahead? Can you see? What’s going on?” and John just held on tight to his boy, not letting him go, but not taking the time to explain every thing, just saying, sit tight, it’ll be all right.
Then, this morning, I was reading a devotional by my favorite Christian author, Max Lucado. He is discussing the phrase “lead us not into temptation, and deliver us from evil” in the Lord’s prayer. Here’s what he has to say:
“Imagine a father and son walking down an icy street. The father cautions the boy to be careful, but the boy is too excited to slow down. He hits the first patch of ice. Up go the feet and down plops the bottom. Dad comes along and helps him to his feet. The boy apologizes for disregarding the warning and then, tightly holding his father’s big hand, he asks, “Keep me from the slippery spots. Don’t let me fall again.”
This example, to me, never gets old. It helps that I have a great relationship with my dad, and can perfectly picture these examples as they were played out in my own life. But I cannot think of a more simple, clear, and touching way to depict our relationship with Christ. All theological intricacies aside: we are children, holding the hand of the Father, trusting him to hold on tight, not leave us behind, and to be tall enough to see what’s ahead and be with us through it.
So often, and I’m chatting with God throughout the day, the very needy and fearful thought returns to my mind again and again – hold my hand, Jesus. I know I’ll fall, I know I’ll fail, but if you just hold my hand, you can pull me back up and we can keep on walking down this road together.
I wrote a short devotional about this in my journal sometime in college. The story goes something like this:
A man and a little girl are walking through a slippery, crowded street. She is in her best dress, with her hair done up and shiny new shoes on her feet. She is ready to put her best foot forward.
Next to her, her dad holds out his hand, ready to hold hers as they push through the crowd.
At first, she doesn’t need his hand. She walks carefully, looking down, making sure her new shoes don’t get scuffed up, dodging knees and pants.
Then, she falls on her rear.
Tearing up a bit, and panicking because of all of the people around her, she squeeks a little and cries. She’s afraid her dad walked on, didn’t notice that she fell, or thought to himself “serves her right for showing off her new shoes and not paying attention.”
But she blindly, hoping, throws out her hand anyway, reaching as high as she can with fingers outstretched.
He grabs her hand with his big, solid warm ones. They are calloused and scarred, but they’re the strongest, most gentle hands she knows, and she trusts them.
He pulls her up, murmering and wiping away her tears.
They keep on walking.
This time, she holds his hand tightly.
But then, she starts getting impatient and uncomfortable. Repeatedly, she begs him to lift her up on his shoulder so she can see what’s ahead, and take the weight off of her feet for awhile.
Gently, he says no, he cannot do that. Not because he is incapable, but because that’s not what’s best for her, what his plan of their time includes.
She stomps her feet in frusteration and lets go of his hand, almost immediately flying face-first into the ground.
You see the point.
I was entertained by this as I listened to a sermon I had missed at church by John Wilkenson, our teen pastor, and possibly one of the greatest speakers I’ve ever heard. He told the story of how he went to a big farm shor in PA (because that’s what we do for fun here), and he and his family with three children got stuck in a bottle-necked crowd heading out of one section of the event. While there, a lady started screaming about how she had lost her son in the crowd, and she was shoving and yelling in desperation. At the same time, about every ten seconds, his son was asking, “where are we going? What’s up ahead? Can you see? What’s going on?” and John just held on tight to his boy, not letting him go, but not taking the time to explain every thing, just saying, sit tight, it’ll be all right.
Then, this morning, I was reading a devotional by my favorite Christian author, Max Lucado. He is discussing the phrase “lead us not into temptation, and deliver us from evil” in the Lord’s prayer. Here’s what he has to say:
“Imagine a father and son walking down an icy street. The father cautions the boy to be careful, but the boy is too excited to slow down. He hits the first patch of ice. Up go the feet and down plops the bottom. Dad comes along and helps him to his feet. The boy apologizes for disregarding the warning and then, tightly holding his father’s big hand, he asks, “Keep me from the slippery spots. Don’t let me fall again.”
This example, to me, never gets old. It helps that I have a great relationship with my dad, and can perfectly picture these examples as they were played out in my own life. But I cannot think of a more simple, clear, and touching way to depict our relationship with Christ. All theological intricacies aside: we are children, holding the hand of the Father, trusting him to hold on tight, not leave us behind, and to be tall enough to see what’s ahead and be with us through it.
2.05.2009
For better or for worse
Have you ever turned your back on Christ?
This was a question at our small group this week. I didn’t say this then, so as not to offend anyone gathered, but here’s what I think is tied in with anyone’s answer to that question.
Personal relationship. (see RGB)
I know several people who’ve turned their back on God, because He didn’t take care of them like they wanted, because He ‘let’ someone suffer and/or die, etc. Some have come back, some have not.
But the deciding factor of those who either come back, or don’t turn away in the first place, seems to me to be the personal relationship.
Why do I think this? Well, because of some examples that were given. Friends of a couple in our small group had their 5-month-old daughter die from a rare heart disease. They don’t hate God: they hold on to Him more strongly. I’ve seen people lose children, be diagnosed with cancer, live through their parents dying in a shocking or degrading manner, and though they may be angry, express doubts, and really wrestle with their faith, it just makes them cling to Him more closely.
This is true in my life. In answer to the original question, I think: no. Whenever crap happens in my life, I look up at the sky and say two things: Bring it on.
And, You’d better know what’s going on up there, because I don’t, but I’m going to have to trust You through this pain.
Why? Because I have a personal relationship with my God.
I think of two examples of people close to me who have turned their back on God. And I think, though I cannot know for sure, that it was because their relationship with God was piggyback-style. Based on someone else’s relationship. Based on what they were told they should believe, but never discovered for themselves. Based on knowledge or upbringing, not a relationship.
Talking about this in bed last night, Tim, my smart-as-heck husband, brought up a good point. We often think of God as doing things in reaction to what we do. Which may sometimes be true – but not in the way we think of it. We see our kid get sick, crash our car, get our gps stolen, and we think “what did I do that God decided I deserve this?”
That, my friends, is entirely wrong. God is a constant, not a wobbly reaction chemical. He doesn’t wait for us to act and then magically make a decision based on what we’ve said or done. He’s got the rules of the universe already in place: His Grace and Mercy (and Justice).
However, this is so often what we project. I think it’s partly because of literally centuries of this weird, ingrained thought process. Remember in medieval times, and in early American puritan times, when if you got sick it was because you did something and God decided to punish you? Rough way of life I think.
And, in a flip-flop view, to take what Tim said a step further, I think this is what we ourselves project onto our relationship with God, if and when we decide to turn away from him. We act in a reactionary way. We say: if you’re going to treat me (or x person) like this, then I’m done with you.
Now, lets be honest, that’s just being human. That’s how we respond with our sense of justice, and perhaps our training on consumerism and customer service laws. If I don’t get what I deserve, then I’m done with you.
But again, this forgets the aspect of a steady, personal relationship. God is not a yo-yo. We should not react to him as if we don’t have a relationship with Him, as if he were some vending machine that we kick because it doesn’t give the correct change. We should react like we should to a friend or mentor that we trust. I don’t know why you’re doing this, or why this situation is unfolding like this, but I figure you’ve got it under control. Yell if you need help. I’m here, I don’t understand what’s going on or why, but we’re together on this.
That’s the way it should be.
This was a question at our small group this week. I didn’t say this then, so as not to offend anyone gathered, but here’s what I think is tied in with anyone’s answer to that question.
Personal relationship. (see RGB)
I know several people who’ve turned their back on God, because He didn’t take care of them like they wanted, because He ‘let’ someone suffer and/or die, etc. Some have come back, some have not.
But the deciding factor of those who either come back, or don’t turn away in the first place, seems to me to be the personal relationship.
Why do I think this? Well, because of some examples that were given. Friends of a couple in our small group had their 5-month-old daughter die from a rare heart disease. They don’t hate God: they hold on to Him more strongly. I’ve seen people lose children, be diagnosed with cancer, live through their parents dying in a shocking or degrading manner, and though they may be angry, express doubts, and really wrestle with their faith, it just makes them cling to Him more closely.
This is true in my life. In answer to the original question, I think: no. Whenever crap happens in my life, I look up at the sky and say two things: Bring it on.
And, You’d better know what’s going on up there, because I don’t, but I’m going to have to trust You through this pain.
Why? Because I have a personal relationship with my God.
I think of two examples of people close to me who have turned their back on God. And I think, though I cannot know for sure, that it was because their relationship with God was piggyback-style. Based on someone else’s relationship. Based on what they were told they should believe, but never discovered for themselves. Based on knowledge or upbringing, not a relationship.
Talking about this in bed last night, Tim, my smart-as-heck husband, brought up a good point. We often think of God as doing things in reaction to what we do. Which may sometimes be true – but not in the way we think of it. We see our kid get sick, crash our car, get our gps stolen, and we think “what did I do that God decided I deserve this?”
That, my friends, is entirely wrong. God is a constant, not a wobbly reaction chemical. He doesn’t wait for us to act and then magically make a decision based on what we’ve said or done. He’s got the rules of the universe already in place: His Grace and Mercy (and Justice).
However, this is so often what we project. I think it’s partly because of literally centuries of this weird, ingrained thought process. Remember in medieval times, and in early American puritan times, when if you got sick it was because you did something and God decided to punish you? Rough way of life I think.
And, in a flip-flop view, to take what Tim said a step further, I think this is what we ourselves project onto our relationship with God, if and when we decide to turn away from him. We act in a reactionary way. We say: if you’re going to treat me (or x person) like this, then I’m done with you.
Now, lets be honest, that’s just being human. That’s how we respond with our sense of justice, and perhaps our training on consumerism and customer service laws. If I don’t get what I deserve, then I’m done with you.
But again, this forgets the aspect of a steady, personal relationship. God is not a yo-yo. We should not react to him as if we don’t have a relationship with Him, as if he were some vending machine that we kick because it doesn’t give the correct change. We should react like we should to a friend or mentor that we trust. I don’t know why you’re doing this, or why this situation is unfolding like this, but I figure you’ve got it under control. Yell if you need help. I’m here, I don’t understand what’s going on or why, but we’re together on this.
That’s the way it should be.
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