This is the message that keeps popping up in my days. It has been uttered from the lips of my pastor, my boss, my co-worker, a few of my friends, and a speaker at a women's gathering. The exact wording might have varied with the speaker, but the theme is the same.
There are many things in our lives that are not coincidence. God often provides us with circumstances that might seem random, and maybe even unpleasant. And it is amazing to realize years later how those seemingly outlying jobs, gigs, meetings, etc. end up as paving stones in our journey, leading us to important things.
I find this comforting. I have had some pretty random experiences, especially in the job department, that seem like a hodgepodge of my lack of direction. I happen to be at a crossroads where all those paths are converging, and I see why nursing school, my bank job, the Hughes High School football dinners, and so on, all had a connected purpose.
Next week, the workshop I will be facilitating for the next 15 weeks begins. As part of the workshop, the participants will draw a map of what life is like for them now. At their "graduation", they will make a life map, illustrating where they have been, where they are now, and where they hope to be. I have been told, and wholeheartedly believe, that the time in the graduation ceremony when they share their maps is very powerful.
Where have you been? Where are you now? It's a nice meditation exercise to take a little quiet time and think about those things and even pray about them. Not only does this connecting of dots strengthen our resolve, deepen our faith, and hone our sense of direction, but it can be very, very inspiring.
Showing posts with label Faith. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Faith. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Thursday, September 1, 2011
"If You Want To Say That ..." Changes Everything
Maybe you'd heard, maybe not, but Maya Angelou recently lamented that a new MLK memorial carried only part of one of his quotes, and the clause that was left out made all of the difference. Leaving off "If you want to say that I was a drum major, say that....." changes the meaning of "I was a drum major for justice, etc." Angelou pointed out that it made Dr. King sound arrogant to leave off the beginning of the sentence, and missed the point of the entire sermon that encased it.
If you know Jeff and me, you can probably guess what we did after stumbling across this information. We listened to the sermon. I think I agree with Maya Angelou.
Feminism and Christianity don't only focus on women and people who say they follow Christ, respectively. At the heart of each is not only a yearning to become the best versions of ourselves, and to seek justice and healing and peace for all.
In that spirit, if you have time, I REALLY (note the total emphasis applied) encourage you to listen to Martin Luther King Jr.'s "Drum Major Instinct" sermon. He is an amazing speaker, and this is a powerful message. It never ceases to surprise me how in the strangest ways a Message that I need to hear finds me at the right moment. As was the case with this. It spoke right to me. From 1968 Dr. King ended up right on my street, to use the phrase of a former minister of mine.
The message is timeless as well as timely. Often on Ourselves, Reinvented we have discussed in some way the Drum Major Instinct. The yearning to lead. To not sit down silently, or pass through life unheard. I believe that we all have something we want to share, a mark to leave on the world. We have heard many women speak about things in this space which they are passionate about, how they are seeking justice and peace. We are just as susceptible to all the distortions such as greed, pride, gossip, envy, and so on. And as Dr. King pointed out that Jesus, as usual, showed us a new way to great accomplishment. Serving. Loving. Dr. King brilliantly concluded that this is available to every person, then.
I love that. Every person is capable of great things. Not through money or degrees or connections but by serving others. Seeking justice. Loving one another. It makes me want to hear more MLK sermons, because I feel as if just now the depths of his dream are becoming understandable to me.
We could change everything.
If you know Jeff and me, you can probably guess what we did after stumbling across this information. We listened to the sermon. I think I agree with Maya Angelou.
Feminism and Christianity don't only focus on women and people who say they follow Christ, respectively. At the heart of each is not only a yearning to become the best versions of ourselves, and to seek justice and healing and peace for all.
In that spirit, if you have time, I REALLY (note the total emphasis applied) encourage you to listen to Martin Luther King Jr.'s "Drum Major Instinct" sermon. He is an amazing speaker, and this is a powerful message. It never ceases to surprise me how in the strangest ways a Message that I need to hear finds me at the right moment. As was the case with this. It spoke right to me. From 1968 Dr. King ended up right on my street, to use the phrase of a former minister of mine.
The message is timeless as well as timely. Often on Ourselves, Reinvented we have discussed in some way the Drum Major Instinct. The yearning to lead. To not sit down silently, or pass through life unheard. I believe that we all have something we want to share, a mark to leave on the world. We have heard many women speak about things in this space which they are passionate about, how they are seeking justice and peace. We are just as susceptible to all the distortions such as greed, pride, gossip, envy, and so on. And as Dr. King pointed out that Jesus, as usual, showed us a new way to great accomplishment. Serving. Loving. Dr. King brilliantly concluded that this is available to every person, then.
I love that. Every person is capable of great things. Not through money or degrees or connections but by serving others. Seeking justice. Loving one another. It makes me want to hear more MLK sermons, because I feel as if just now the depths of his dream are becoming understandable to me.
We could change everything.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Proud Worrier
It is Monday morning. You're welcome for the reminder.
It is what we call "easing in" week at our house. The school-is-almost-here-so-we-better-practice-going-to-bed-earlier-but-more-importantly-waking-up-earlier week. So up at 6 for me. Or maybe 6:15ish. It was definitely before 6:30.
I didn't get as much done as I hoped. I did get a run in. And an important phone call to my new boss. And an e-mail I needed to send. But up to this point there's been a lot of coffee and some playing with Anna on the Wii. We snagged a new Miss Piggy Mii last night and I just had to see how fabulous she looked doing Kung-Fu. For Feminism's sake. `
I did, in spite of myself, manage to do a little morning meditation, devotion, quiet time, getting ready for the day, or whatever you want to call it. And the message in my Book of Awakenings was amazingly fitting. Today's title is "Live Your Worries Through."
Worry is a palpable feeling in our house this week. My little one did not have such a great last school year, and as this one approaches: worry. I have not worked every day, 5 days a week outside of my house where I have to dress up and be somewhere at a scheduled morning hour for years: worry. My husband's first day with students is this morning and when he got on the computer this morning, his university's entire network was down. And he's a freshman advisor. You're tired of my list already. So am I.
The author pointed out that worry is when we start running a track in our mind of all the bad things we imagine could happen. I am not a pro at a lot of things, but I am a PRO at this. You want to know all the possible things that can go wrong in a situation - come to me. I can rattle off a cool list of 20. So the invitation to live in the moment is one I often find myself longing to respond to and yet find so difficult to actually do.
Living in the moment is the only real safe place, Nepo says, because it is the place we can actually reach out for those who nurture us. This is a nice thought, and feminists would like to remind us that we women have each other to reach out to when we are feeling anxious about our new work demands, or helpless as a mother, or inadequate about the things we long to do. I like that thought too.
After the writing, Nepo always offers a little exercise. This morning, it was to open your hands until you feel the worry leave, then dwell on that feeling. This brought back to me something from The Celebration of Discipline (it's better than it sounds), when the author talked about lifting something up in prayer, physically with your hands, then with your hands, setting it down. Our associate pastor delivered a lovely message yesterday entitled "How do you hear God?" She suggested that God is often speaking and we, for several reasons, don't hear. For me, I think it's because I am so busy worrying and trying to work out the solutions to all the scary "What ifs" I've mentally conjured.
We need each other. We even need to figure out solutions to our problems. But sometimes, we just need to breathe deeply and let it go. But we think it's so important - we can't just let it go. Only Jesus makes this offer to exhausted worriers:
Matthew 11:28 ''Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens and I will give you rest."
So I know it's not Spiritual Wednesday; sometimes you need the Holy Ghost to get you through Monday.
And to reiterate the point: I Peter 5:8 "Give all your worries and cares to God, for he cares about what happens to you." Though I think the preceding verse, at least in my case, is the key. "So humble yourselves under the mighty power of God, and in his good time he will honor you."
What does most of my worry stem from? What do I worry about? Isn't pride the eye of many of my worry storms? Do I not hear God because I haven't humbled myself to acknowledge his power (and my powerlessness)? If I wasn't so concerned for my precious hide, or maybe more accurately, my ego, I venture to say I would worry a lot less.
We may all have different things to release. Before I hand over the worry, I need to let go of the pride. I hope you can find a way to get some rest today, even though it's Monday.
It is what we call "easing in" week at our house. The school-is-almost-here-so-we-better-practice-going-to-bed-earlier-but-more-importantly-waking-up-earlier week. So up at 6 for me. Or maybe 6:15ish. It was definitely before 6:30.
I didn't get as much done as I hoped. I did get a run in. And an important phone call to my new boss. And an e-mail I needed to send. But up to this point there's been a lot of coffee and some playing with Anna on the Wii. We snagged a new Miss Piggy Mii last night and I just had to see how fabulous she looked doing Kung-Fu. For Feminism's sake. `
I did, in spite of myself, manage to do a little morning meditation, devotion, quiet time, getting ready for the day, or whatever you want to call it. And the message in my Book of Awakenings was amazingly fitting. Today's title is "Live Your Worries Through."
Worry is a palpable feeling in our house this week. My little one did not have such a great last school year, and as this one approaches: worry. I have not worked every day, 5 days a week outside of my house where I have to dress up and be somewhere at a scheduled morning hour for years: worry. My husband's first day with students is this morning and when he got on the computer this morning, his university's entire network was down. And he's a freshman advisor. You're tired of my list already. So am I.
The author pointed out that worry is when we start running a track in our mind of all the bad things we imagine could happen. I am not a pro at a lot of things, but I am a PRO at this. You want to know all the possible things that can go wrong in a situation - come to me. I can rattle off a cool list of 20. So the invitation to live in the moment is one I often find myself longing to respond to and yet find so difficult to actually do.
Living in the moment is the only real safe place, Nepo says, because it is the place we can actually reach out for those who nurture us. This is a nice thought, and feminists would like to remind us that we women have each other to reach out to when we are feeling anxious about our new work demands, or helpless as a mother, or inadequate about the things we long to do. I like that thought too.
After the writing, Nepo always offers a little exercise. This morning, it was to open your hands until you feel the worry leave, then dwell on that feeling. This brought back to me something from The Celebration of Discipline (it's better than it sounds), when the author talked about lifting something up in prayer, physically with your hands, then with your hands, setting it down. Our associate pastor delivered a lovely message yesterday entitled "How do you hear God?" She suggested that God is often speaking and we, for several reasons, don't hear. For me, I think it's because I am so busy worrying and trying to work out the solutions to all the scary "What ifs" I've mentally conjured.
We need each other. We even need to figure out solutions to our problems. But sometimes, we just need to breathe deeply and let it go. But we think it's so important - we can't just let it go. Only Jesus makes this offer to exhausted worriers:
Matthew 11:28 ''Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens and I will give you rest."
So I know it's not Spiritual Wednesday; sometimes you need the Holy Ghost to get you through Monday.
And to reiterate the point: I Peter 5:8 "Give all your worries and cares to God, for he cares about what happens to you." Though I think the preceding verse, at least in my case, is the key. "So humble yourselves under the mighty power of God, and in his good time he will honor you."
What does most of my worry stem from? What do I worry about? Isn't pride the eye of many of my worry storms? Do I not hear God because I haven't humbled myself to acknowledge his power (and my powerlessness)? If I wasn't so concerned for my precious hide, or maybe more accurately, my ego, I venture to say I would worry a lot less.
We may all have different things to release. Before I hand over the worry, I need to let go of the pride. I hope you can find a way to get some rest today, even though it's Monday.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
No God, age 10
Today, I decided to hop on my parent page that monitors my daughter's New Moon life. I was reading the profiles of all her chat friends when I stumbled across something that made me think. And wonder.
So of course I bring it to you to ponder as well.
A 10 year old girl, in her opening line of introduction on her profile, declares herself an atheist.
What is the world like for a 10 year old atheist?
I wouldn't know. At 10, I was busy asking Jesus into my heart every night and then writing it down in a journal to make sure I would know an exact time and place. As if upon death I would be asked to provide some sort of written proof at the pearly gates. (Yeah, if anyone convinces my kids that they need to know the exact time and place they asked Jesus into their heart to get to heaven - I will punch that person in the face. Really.)
There is a lot of ground in between those two extremes. Which I can't help but think is a good thing...
So of course I bring it to you to ponder as well.
A 10 year old girl, in her opening line of introduction on her profile, declares herself an atheist.
What is the world like for a 10 year old atheist?
I wouldn't know. At 10, I was busy asking Jesus into my heart every night and then writing it down in a journal to make sure I would know an exact time and place. As if upon death I would be asked to provide some sort of written proof at the pearly gates. (Yeah, if anyone convinces my kids that they need to know the exact time and place they asked Jesus into their heart to get to heaven - I will punch that person in the face. Really.)
There is a lot of ground in between those two extremes. Which I can't help but think is a good thing...
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Benefit of the Doubt
This is another Paul post. You might be thoroughly sick to death of them. I am working out some issues here, and maybe this is not the right place.
So I made it through 1 Corinthians and am onto II Corinthians and now realize I have always lumped the 2 together in my mind. But in the second chapter of second Corinthians something intriguing happens: Paul says it was agonizing having to write the letter that was I Corinthians. (Any Bible scholars out there probably knew this already). I have pictured him holier-than-thou about it, not heartbroken and reluctant.
Fascinated, I skimmed through the rest of II Corinthians, and noted that it has a bit of a different tone. Or tries to. Toward the end of this letter, it becomes apparent that Paul has a difficult relationship with the Corinthians. He brings up his first letter to them again, and admits that he has seen that its affect on them has caused repentance. And then there's this weird stuff about them thinking Paul scammed them and he's defending himself.
This is a better place than I've been in for awhile with Paul's writings. I seriously, for years, have pretty much concentrated any Bible reading on non-Paul writings of the New Testament. Maybe exploring this from a different angle has been the key.
Not that this is a new concept. It is, in fact, standard advice in reading scripture. Or studying anything. In different points of my life I have had different ideas about God and faith. Doubt and exploration has been something I thought was unacceptable. Now I think doubt in some form accompanies authentic faith, and that people with all the answers haven't thought of all the questions. It means you're thinking, exploring, and trying. Struggle is an indication of the presence of life.
The Corinthians had a complicated relationship with Paul too. They are kind of the pariahs of the New Testament, but do they look that different than a lot of us American church goers? Somehow, it made me feel better than other Christians (even if they were "bad" ones), didn't think Paul was the bees knees either.
So I made it through 1 Corinthians and am onto II Corinthians and now realize I have always lumped the 2 together in my mind. But in the second chapter of second Corinthians something intriguing happens: Paul says it was agonizing having to write the letter that was I Corinthians. (Any Bible scholars out there probably knew this already). I have pictured him holier-than-thou about it, not heartbroken and reluctant.
Fascinated, I skimmed through the rest of II Corinthians, and noted that it has a bit of a different tone. Or tries to. Toward the end of this letter, it becomes apparent that Paul has a difficult relationship with the Corinthians. He brings up his first letter to them again, and admits that he has seen that its affect on them has caused repentance. And then there's this weird stuff about them thinking Paul scammed them and he's defending himself.
This is a better place than I've been in for awhile with Paul's writings. I seriously, for years, have pretty much concentrated any Bible reading on non-Paul writings of the New Testament. Maybe exploring this from a different angle has been the key.
Not that this is a new concept. It is, in fact, standard advice in reading scripture. Or studying anything. In different points of my life I have had different ideas about God and faith. Doubt and exploration has been something I thought was unacceptable. Now I think doubt in some form accompanies authentic faith, and that people with all the answers haven't thought of all the questions. It means you're thinking, exploring, and trying. Struggle is an indication of the presence of life.
The Corinthians had a complicated relationship with Paul too. They are kind of the pariahs of the New Testament, but do they look that different than a lot of us American church goers? Somehow, it made me feel better than other Christians (even if they were "bad" ones), didn't think Paul was the bees knees either.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Forgiving Paul
Some of you might be staying far away from these posts for fear that the lightening headed my way might have the ability to travel via the web.
In two different conversations with good friends, one via written correspondence, we have talked about the way we try to hard to meet up to our own unrealistic expectations that we construct partly from comparison with others. This chapter of I Corinthians is powerful, and makes me want to linger here for awhile. It makes me realize that if I really understood what love was - how to love and how God loves - the significance of achievement and whatever else we strive for would fall away. Paul introduces chapter 13's theme as better than all else. For this, perhaps I can work with him. I invite you to let the following words sink into your spirit and help focus your day. This translation is less poetic and melodious, but lends a fresh and modern perspective.
If I could speak in any language in heaven or on earth but didn't love others, I would only be making meaningless noise like a loud gong or clanging symbol. If I had the gift of prophecy, and if I knew all the mysteries of the future and knew everything about everything, but didn't love others, what good would it be? And if I had the gift of faith so that I could speak to a mountain and make it move, without love, it would be no good to anybody. If I gave everything I have to the poor and even sacrificed my body, I could boast about it, but if I didn't love others, I would be of no value whatsoever.
Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. Love does not demand its own way. Love is not irritable, and it keeps no record of when it has been wronged. It is never glad about injustice but rejoices whenever truth wins out. Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.
Love will last forever, but prophecy and speaking in unknown languages and special knowledge will all disappear. Now we know only a little, and even the gift of prophecy reveals little! But when the end comes, these special gifts will all disappear.
It's like this: When I was a child, I spoke and thought and reasoned as a child does. But when I grew up, I put away childish things. Now we see things imperfectly, as in a poor mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God knows me now.
There are three things that will endure--faith, hope and love--and the greatest of these is love.
In two different conversations with good friends, one via written correspondence, we have talked about the way we try to hard to meet up to our own unrealistic expectations that we construct partly from comparison with others. This chapter of I Corinthians is powerful, and makes me want to linger here for awhile. It makes me realize that if I really understood what love was - how to love and how God loves - the significance of achievement and whatever else we strive for would fall away. Paul introduces chapter 13's theme as better than all else. For this, perhaps I can work with him. I invite you to let the following words sink into your spirit and help focus your day. This translation is less poetic and melodious, but lends a fresh and modern perspective.
If I could speak in any language in heaven or on earth but didn't love others, I would only be making meaningless noise like a loud gong or clanging symbol. If I had the gift of prophecy, and if I knew all the mysteries of the future and knew everything about everything, but didn't love others, what good would it be? And if I had the gift of faith so that I could speak to a mountain and make it move, without love, it would be no good to anybody. If I gave everything I have to the poor and even sacrificed my body, I could boast about it, but if I didn't love others, I would be of no value whatsoever.
Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. Love does not demand its own way. Love is not irritable, and it keeps no record of when it has been wronged. It is never glad about injustice but rejoices whenever truth wins out. Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.
Love will last forever, but prophecy and speaking in unknown languages and special knowledge will all disappear. Now we know only a little, and even the gift of prophecy reveals little! But when the end comes, these special gifts will all disappear.
It's like this: When I was a child, I spoke and thought and reasoned as a child does. But when I grew up, I put away childish things. Now we see things imperfectly, as in a poor mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God knows me now.
There are three things that will endure--faith, hope and love--and the greatest of these is love.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Giving When It’s Hard
Today's post is written by a friend who is more like a sister to me - Courtney.
She deserves her own inspiring woman post. I asked her to write about her work with women with addictions, to give us a glimpse of what that is like. She provided me with this very honest and beautiful essay about volunteering as a group leader:
She deserves her own inspiring woman post. I asked her to write about her work with women with addictions, to give us a glimpse of what that is like. She provided me with this very honest and beautiful essay about volunteering as a group leader:
I want to sit here and say that giving of my time, money and talents is natural, easy and fulfilling. Of course it can be, on that right day, in that right light, and given unspoiled circumstances. But often, most often in fact, it’s not. Mostly it’s hard, dirty, boring, frustrating. All those emotions you don’t think of when you call up your local agency and ask if you can be an answer to their prayer. What did they pray for exactly? A warm body? A punching bag? Sometimes either of those titles would fit. So why do I go back? Why do I continue to rearrange my schedule, make my kids wait, ask my husband to give? Because that’s what we’re made to do.
God has created us with eyes to look beyond ourselves, with ears to listen to the struggles of others and with shoulders to bear the burden of one beaten by life’s circumstances.
If we deny this purpose and mission for our time on earth, we cease to grow properly. We become the ingrown toenail of ourselves, growing deformed under our skin. Red, swollen, hurting, irritated, bothering.
I currently work part of my week at a homeless shelter for women and their children. The Charis House located in downtown Fort Wayne, Indiana, is a refuge for women who have nowhere else to turn. On a day to day basis, the atmosphere is of gratitude and filled with God’s glory and love. But some days, there is resentment, anger, aggravation and depression. Some days the women I work with sleep through my class, tell me I’m not worth their time, and curse me under their breath. The information I bring, though possibly useful, is seen as another burden in their already troubled lives. No thanks are given, or even considered.
So why? Why do I love these women like they were my own family? Why do I continue to reach out when my proverbial hand is slapped raw?
Because that’s what Jesus did for me, and will continue to do for me. How many times did I refuse His Grace, His Glory, His Truth? This is the immature nature of our sinful selves that will only be cured upon His command. Until then, I’ll give what’s been given to me – even when it’s hard.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Shining on You
Do you ever wake up, feel the loveliness of a clean slate of a day, and then slowly all the things you have to do start pressing in on you, squeezing all of the loveliness out of your day? At this point, I comfort myself with the thought that I programmed the coffee maker the night before and at least there is a fresh pot waiting. (The mornings this has not happened are the equivalent of getting up on the wrong side of the bed).
This morning I calculated that my to do list exceeded the amount of time I had in the day. I reached for my Book of Awakenings, a gift from a friend that helps me grab a few minutes of reflection and peace before I get going. Amazed, I read about how new days start out fresh and empty and then we start filling them up with stuff and stress ourselves out. The meditation invited me to let those things sink in, then exhale and let them go. Then I read from the book by John Ortberg that my Monday night group is reading and again, the message was startlingly relevant.
At the end of the chapter, the author talked about how we make important connections with toddlers through our facial expressions. When they are stressed by something, they look to our faces for comfort. It is a natural part of their growth and development. We smile down on them, and they find peace. It brought completely new meaning to this :
"May the Lord bless you and keep you: May the Lord make His face shine upon you, and be gracious unto you: May the Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace." Numbers 6: 24-26.
I know how full my heart feels when I smile at an adorable toddler; it almost bursts. That's how God looks at us? It made me smile, and feel peace. So I had to share it with you. Today I just didn't have the capacity to bring anything thought-provoking to you. This may seem weird, but often I pray about what I should write about in this space (especially on spiritual Wednesdays). I am praying this blessing for you today. Let it go, and bask in God smiling at you.
This morning I calculated that my to do list exceeded the amount of time I had in the day. I reached for my Book of Awakenings, a gift from a friend that helps me grab a few minutes of reflection and peace before I get going. Amazed, I read about how new days start out fresh and empty and then we start filling them up with stuff and stress ourselves out. The meditation invited me to let those things sink in, then exhale and let them go. Then I read from the book by John Ortberg that my Monday night group is reading and again, the message was startlingly relevant.
At the end of the chapter, the author talked about how we make important connections with toddlers through our facial expressions. When they are stressed by something, they look to our faces for comfort. It is a natural part of their growth and development. We smile down on them, and they find peace. It brought completely new meaning to this :
"May the Lord bless you and keep you: May the Lord make His face shine upon you, and be gracious unto you: May the Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace." Numbers 6: 24-26.
I know how full my heart feels when I smile at an adorable toddler; it almost bursts. That's how God looks at us? It made me smile, and feel peace. So I had to share it with you. Today I just didn't have the capacity to bring anything thought-provoking to you. This may seem weird, but often I pray about what I should write about in this space (especially on spiritual Wednesdays). I am praying this blessing for you today. Let it go, and bask in God smiling at you.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Good Friday
The way Christians celebrate the same church holidays every year could get stale, but for myself and many I talk to, some new or fresh aspect often reveals itself in the familiar passages. Today on Good Friday, as I am thinking about Jesus' voluntary offering of himself to undergo this terrible death experience on our behalf, the idea that He chose to give up his rights is what is on my mind.
Jesus defended others. He urged us to fight for justice. When it came to himself, however, he sacrificed. The portrait of Jesus in the gospels is of someone who sought everyone else's healing and restoration. We are not presented with a picture of a person who was concerned about his own rights, fulfillment of his own needs, etc.
Honestly, I spend an awful lot of time chasing my own desires and comparatively little on others' healing and restoration. Jesus' example looms as drastic and unrealistic - if we did that everyone would step on us. They put him to death, after all. But if most of us lived like Jesus, there would be a whole lot less oppression in the world. Most oppression occurs in pursuit of one's comforts and desires.
Everyone needs to hear different messages, and that is the beauty in the complexity of the gospels. You many need to concentrate on a different aspect of the crucifixion story today. I encourage you to do that. I know, however, that I need to reflect on the sacrifice part.
Jesus defended others. He urged us to fight for justice. When it came to himself, however, he sacrificed. The portrait of Jesus in the gospels is of someone who sought everyone else's healing and restoration. We are not presented with a picture of a person who was concerned about his own rights, fulfillment of his own needs, etc.
Honestly, I spend an awful lot of time chasing my own desires and comparatively little on others' healing and restoration. Jesus' example looms as drastic and unrealistic - if we did that everyone would step on us. They put him to death, after all. But if most of us lived like Jesus, there would be a whole lot less oppression in the world. Most oppression occurs in pursuit of one's comforts and desires.
Everyone needs to hear different messages, and that is the beauty in the complexity of the gospels. You many need to concentrate on a different aspect of the crucifixion story today. I encourage you to do that. I know, however, that I need to reflect on the sacrifice part.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Votum
*
Now, after living more of life, I see something achingly beautiful in prayer candles. All together, they are a lovely picture of our collective appeal to Something bigger than us. I wonder what each of those candles represent to the heart whose hope is pinned on it. Was the votive lit in hopes of safeguarding a baby yet to be born? An appeal to heal a sick loved one? In memory of someone dear? Little flickers of faith; they whisper from the depths of souls.
At 16, I didn't know that peace can be found in laying your heart on an altar. Young people hoist burdens almost effortlessly, seek answers ruthlessly, and admit helplessness infrequently. Lighting a candle would have been an exercise in futility to my way of thinking. What did it accomplish? God can hear you if you light a candle or not! Why spend the buck?
Faith, hope, and love are not of the kind of substances that can be physically gathered up like flowers to put in someone else's hands. We sometimes express them symbolically, the way an artist gives form to ideas and emotions with paint on a canvas. A woman's gesture of breaking open an expensive jar of perfume, using its contents to wash Jesus' feet with her hair, was that kind of expression. And Jesus thought it was beautiful.
* picture from Amanda's Etsy Shop
Friday, January 28, 2011
Why I Love Jesus
Let's get that right out there.
I was raised Roman Catholic. Then I was raised as an Evangelical Christian. This might explain a thing or two...
Of course, I went through the requisite "doubting my faith" stage. Twice. During my adulthood, after I had a child, then another, of my own.
Sparing you the details, the first faith crisis caused me to ask why I was a Christian. I decided to just read the red letters of the Bible (Jesus' words). And then I decided that yes, I was a Christian. Have you ever done that, just read Jesus' words? It's so powerful, because you get a focused view of what his time on earth was about. It blocked out the noise of what books, pastors, family, etc. was saying. He was more than what He had been reduced to in past venues of my life.
Shortly after, my husband and I had a messy, ugly happening involving the church we had been involved in. It left us shocked and bitter. Then we moved. Crisis of faith, version 2.0. The bigger, scarier version.
During this time, I was also taking a class on world religions. So at this time I was considering un-being a Christian, I was given a full-color menu of the other options. I scoured it. When I came up for air, I decided on Jesus. Not Christianity.
In all the exploring, no religion, Christianity included, treated women the way Jesus did. Many religions, including Christianity at times, blame women's sexuality as the root of all evil. The full blessings of religion are often denied women simply because they are female. It's no wonder many feminists turn their back on religion. Jesus saw women at a time when they were to be ignored. Men were not supposed to talk to women. Over and over, Jesus saw women, spoke to them, offered them their full humanity. A woman with a bad reputation insulted by important men; Jesus defends her and validates her worth (Luke 7:36-50). A woman of the lowest class with several ex-husbands and a current live-in boyfriend (think guest on Jerry Springer), Jesus gave her hope and dignity (John 4:1-42). A woman whose life was wrecked by what was probably a menstrual disorder; Jesus acknowledged her suffering and healed her (Matthew 9:18-22). What great religious leader would do those things, especially in that day? Or this day, really? Quietly acknowledge a woman's personal humiliation? Back down bullies?
That's why I love Jesus.
I was raised Roman Catholic. Then I was raised as an Evangelical Christian. This might explain a thing or two...
Of course, I went through the requisite "doubting my faith" stage. Twice. During my adulthood, after I had a child, then another, of my own.
Sparing you the details, the first faith crisis caused me to ask why I was a Christian. I decided to just read the red letters of the Bible (Jesus' words). And then I decided that yes, I was a Christian. Have you ever done that, just read Jesus' words? It's so powerful, because you get a focused view of what his time on earth was about. It blocked out the noise of what books, pastors, family, etc. was saying. He was more than what He had been reduced to in past venues of my life.
Shortly after, my husband and I had a messy, ugly happening involving the church we had been involved in. It left us shocked and bitter. Then we moved. Crisis of faith, version 2.0. The bigger, scarier version.
During this time, I was also taking a class on world religions. So at this time I was considering un-being a Christian, I was given a full-color menu of the other options. I scoured it. When I came up for air, I decided on Jesus. Not Christianity.
In all the exploring, no religion, Christianity included, treated women the way Jesus did. Many religions, including Christianity at times, blame women's sexuality as the root of all evil. The full blessings of religion are often denied women simply because they are female. It's no wonder many feminists turn their back on religion. Jesus saw women at a time when they were to be ignored. Men were not supposed to talk to women. Over and over, Jesus saw women, spoke to them, offered them their full humanity. A woman with a bad reputation insulted by important men; Jesus defends her and validates her worth (Luke 7:36-50). A woman of the lowest class with several ex-husbands and a current live-in boyfriend (think guest on Jerry Springer), Jesus gave her hope and dignity (John 4:1-42). A woman whose life was wrecked by what was probably a menstrual disorder; Jesus acknowledged her suffering and healed her (Matthew 9:18-22). What great religious leader would do those things, especially in that day? Or this day, really? Quietly acknowledge a woman's personal humiliation? Back down bullies?
That's why I love Jesus.
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