A Year of Sundays: Mardi Gras

On more than one occasion, I have had to explain the Christian heritage associated with Mardi Gras.  Even long-time Christians who have solid understanding of church history do not realize this day has religious roots. And there is literally no judgment in this because I, too, before beginning to work at a Lutheran church did not understand it.

In as few words as I can summarize it: In the 600s the Pope declared that the church abstain from rich foods during Lent - meat, eggs, butter, etc. In order to use up the milk and eggs that they had, believers would make pancakes on the day before Lent starts. In Europe, they are more likely to celebrate Pancake Day, but Americans have stuck with the French name, Mardi Gras meaning Fat Tuesday.  The “church name” for the day is Shrove Tuesday because believers would also attempt to be absolved (or "shrived") of their sin before going into the Lenten season.

When we think of Mardi Gras, it's no surprise that we think of New Orleans and not church. It's big and loud and exciting. Perhaps the church's loss of this celebration speaks to a larger issue in the church.

Let's not forget, Jesus knew how to celebrate. His first public miracle was at a wedding where He created wine. Although there is no record of Him drinking that wine, we know He was Jewish, so He would have participated in the traditional religious feasts which included drinking wine. Christ's last communal act before going to the cross was participating in the Passover at which He said,

...He took His place at the table, and the apostles with Him. He said to them, “I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer; for I tell you, I will not eat it until it is fulfilled in the kingdom of God." (Luke 22:14-16, NRSV)

Too often we expect believers to walk through the valleys of the church calendar without giving them equal opportunity to dance on the mountaintops. And then we wonder why Christians develop a reputation for being a certain way. Mardi Gras is an opportunity to be the other way - big, loud, and filled with joy - eagerly desiring to participate in a feast before we suffer for a little while.

A Year of Sundays: Week 8

Sunday 8: The Second Sunday after Epiphany

Epiphany is a season of going. Magi went to the manger (Read Matthew 2:1-12). Jesus went to the water to be baptized (Read Matthew 3:15-22). The disciples went with Jesus (Read Luke 5:1-11) . And if I may take some liberty, Jesus’ mother went to Him at a wedding (Read John 2:1-11).

But what is the point of all this going?

A phrase caught my attention as I listened to Scripture today:

“Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of services, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who activates all of them in everyone. To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.” (1 Corinthians 12:4-7, NRSV)

Common good.

The common good is hard to define. It is conceptually understood, even desired, without the full ability to articulate it. The struggle to define the common good is not limited to Christian thought, or even philosophy.  In fact, just this very week I sat amongst a group of graduate students at the University of Southern California and tried to give definition to this idea. Each small group landed on a good - but perhaps incomplete – definition.  One common thread was the idea of benefit to others; whether that was articulated as a “majority” or “all people” or “society,” it was understood that the common in common good was a challenging modifier.

So it is, too, in the Corinthians passage above. Later in the chapter, the author compares the common good to parts of a body working together, each with a unique part that serves the collective body. The ear may enjoy music from time to time, but primarily it does not hear for its own benefit, but rather to learn or warn the body. The feet may enjoy the pleasure of a pedicure from time to time, but mostly it carries and moves the body. It is the same with eyes and elbows, hips and hearts, armpits and even the appendix.

Using our gifts for the common good is not always easy, but it is important.

If I am a leg, let me stand.
If I am an arm, let me carry the hand.
If I am knee, let me bend.
If I am hand, let me extend.
If I am an eye, let me see.
If I am a bladder, let me pee.
If I am heart, let me beat.
If I am a butt, let me take a seat.
If I am a stomach, let me digest.
If I am a brain, let me know what is best.

A Year of Sundays: Week 5

 Sunday 5: The First Sunday of Christmas

It confuses many people to learn that the twelve days of Christmas don't count down to Christmas; they begin on Christmas. This becomes an interesting distinction between the secular and the Christian calendar.

There seems to have been great debate this year over when it is acceptable to put up decorations, with a growing number of celebrants advocating for November 1. Having grown up in a strictly day-after-Thanksgiving house, this seems too early for me. I suspect that these early decorators have been influenced by modern radio which begins playing Christmas music in early November.

The November 1 onset of Christmas music really doesn't bother me. With so many stations available, I choose how much or how little I listen to it. What has bothered me for years is when the Christmas music stops. For most of my life, that same station that has been playing music for weeks returns to its normal broadcast at noon on Christmas day.  I've never understood it! Couldn't they at least go to midnight?

I was pleasantly surprised this year to turn on the radio on December 26 to hear Christmas music. And again on December 27. I was truly delighted. It truly felt like I was able to stretch Christmas beyond one day. Today the Christmas music is gone (even from the Christian radio stations), but we are still in the liturgical Christmas season.

At my church we do not meet on the Sunday between Christmas and New Year's Day. This Sunday is set aside to be with family, allow staff and volunteers to relax, and linger in the most unique time of the year. It is probably more practical than theological, as it is a day many are traveling, hosting visitors, or resting. Though I am not Catholic, I found it interesting that the first Sunday of Christmas in the Catholic calendar is the Feast of the Holy Family, celebrating the family unit of Mary, Joseph, and Jesus. One could argue that, in our tradition, not meeting on this Sunday is also about the holiness of family.

Today's Scripture readings focuses on family. In Luke 2:22-40, Mary and Joseph take Jesus to the temple to keep the laws associated with the birth of a firstborn son. The corresponding Old Testament reading is Exodus 13:1-3a, 11-15 and details the origins of this law.

And then there is Colossians.

In today's New Testament reading, Colossians 3:12-17, we come to what feels like an unrelated passage.  Or is it? 

"Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you." (Colossians 3:13, NIV)

There might not be better instructions for a day we are focusing on family. Our families are the ones who see us at our worst. We also see them at their worst and, consequently, they are the hardest to forgive.  They are the ones we are most likely to hold a grievance against. They are the ones we are most challenged by.

Though this passage was not written to a biological family, it seems fitting. If we can learn to forgive our family, maybe we can forgive others. Remember, Peter asked Jesus how many times he needed to forgive his brother (Matthew 18:21).

Not a stranger who was rude to him at the market.

Or a coworker who keeps eating his lunch.

Not even a neighbor who's always blocking his driveway with his car.

A brother.

May we all do the same.

A Year of Sundays: Week 4

Sunday 4: The Fourth Week of Advent

The fourth Sunday of Advent concludes the season with a focus on love.

The popular song, It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas, describes what one person thinks Christmas looks like. We hear that:

• The stores have candy canes
• The streets glow from the lights
• There are toys in every store
• There are big trees in the Grand Hotel and the park
• Homes (including your own) have holly on their front doors where inside Barney and Ben wish for a pair of Hopalong boots and a pistol that shoots, Janice and Jen hope for dolls that'll talk and will go for a walk, and Mom and Dad can't wait for the kids to go back to school
  

It's not quite as dreamy when you remove the music, is it?

Christmas looks different to a Christian.

Christmas looks like Elizabeth, a woman who could not produce an heir, and her husband Zechariah, who loved her so much that he remained married with her long past the time that a child ever seemed possible to him (see Luke 1).

Christmas looks like Elizabeth's cousin, Mary, a woman who found herself unexpectedly pregnant under surprising circumstances.  Her fiance, Joseph, loved her so much that he intended to break his engagement privately instead of publicly shaming her as he had the right to do (Matthew 1).

Christmas looks like the God who used this family to fulfill His promises to all of humanity by giving a child to Elizabeth and then to Mary.

Christmas looks like love.

A Year of Sundays: Week 2

 Sunday 2: The Second Sunday of Advent

The second Sunday of advent draws our attention to PEACE. We read in Scripture that Jesus is the Prince of Peace (Isaiah 9:6), Jesus' peace is not like the world's peace (John 14:27), Christ's peace should rule our hearts (Colossians 3:15), and even that there are some undeserving of peace (Matthew 10:13).

But what does peace even really look like?

(Try to answer that question for yourself before you read any further. It's a lot harder to put into words than you first think.)

We conceptually understand the type of peace that exists in the absence of conflict. No war = peace. We understand, but may not frequently experience, an internal peace that is a sense of calmness and restfulness. But is there something more? Out of curiosity, I asked ChatGPT to define peace from a Christian perspective. It returned:

From a Christian perspective, peace is often understood as a deep, abiding sense of harmony and wholeness rooted in God's presence and grace. It goes beyond the absence of conflict or turmoil and reflects a spiritual state of well-being and reconciliation with God, oneself, and others. Key aspects of peace in the Christian faith include:

1. Peace with God: Through Jesus Christ, Christians believe they are reconciled to God, breaking the barrier of sin (Romans 5:1). This peace signifies a restored relationship with the Creator.
2. Inner Peace: Christians trust in God's sovereignty and promises, which provides comfort and calm even in life's challenges (Philippians 4:6-7). This peace is described as "the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding." 
3. Peace with Others: Following Christ's teaching to love one's neighbor and seek reconciliation, Christians are called to be peacemakers (Matthew 5:9). This includes resolving conflicts and promoting unity in relationships. 
4. Eschatological Peace: The Bible envisions a future where ultimate peace will reign under God's kingdom, described as a time when "the wolf will dwell with the lamb" (Isaiah 11:6) and there will be no more pain or strife (Revelation 21:4). 

In essence, peace in Christianity is both a gift from God and a way of life shaped by faith, trust, and obedience to His will.

I am actually quite impressed by this response. When I ask what peace looks like, what I am really asking it means to have what ChatGPT called "peace as a way of life."

In today's Gospel reading, we meet adult John the Baptist along the banks of the Jordan river. The crowds asked John a question similar to what I am asking, how should we live?

“What should we do then?” the crowd asked. 

John answered, “Anyone who has two shirts should share with the one who has none, and anyone who has food should do the same.”

Even tax collectors came to be baptized. “Teacher,” they asked, “what should we do?”

“Don’t collect any more than you are required to,” he told them.

Then some soldiers asked him, “And what should we do?”

He replied, “Don’t extort money and don’t accuse people falsely—be content with your pay.” (Luke 3:10-14, NIV)

 His responses were direct and called for an immediate response: Be content. Contentment is underrated these days. We are bombarded with images on television and social media that make us believe we need more. We need better. We need newer. While the mediums may be new, the problem is not. In the book of James we read:

What causes fights and quarrels among you? Don’t they come from your desires that battle within you? You desire but do not have, so you kill. You covet but you cannot get what you want, so you quarrel and fight. You do not have because you do not ask God. (James 4:1-2, NIV)

So, I return to my initial question: what does peace really look like? Peace looks like:

• having so much trust in God's ability to provide for us, that we only take enough for today.
• being so thankful for what God has given us, that we don't take things from others.
• opening our eyes to others' needs instead only focus on ourselves.
• talking to God when we think we are lacking in some way.
  

What does peace look like to you?

Neighbor

But wanting to justify himself, he said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”
(Luke 10:29, NASB)

I had just turned the heater on when I heard the knock on my office door. I opened it to see a woman.

"Excuse me," she said. "We just noticed one of your windows is broken."

It's not unusual to find neighbors on our church property.  On the edge of an area zoned for manufacturing, a major residential area begins to the south of our church campus. A large grassy area covers that side of property.  Those who have been at the church a long time may see the grass as a missed opportunity.  The original plans included many more classrooms and a small chapel, and the grassy area would have been replaced with buildings for education and worship.  However, the early members of our church never got around to finishing development for one reason or another. So, these days, we often find our neighbors throwing a football, practing casting their fishing rods, or like today, playing with their dogs.  Hello, neighbor.

As a church we do our best to make use of that area.  We gated off a small section so our children's department can safely take students outside to run around. Over the years we've had many barbeques and water balloon fights.  We even purchased a blow up movie screen to host movie nights during the summer.

These local residents are our neighbors and it's generally easy to love them.

But what about the others?  What about the person who, for example, broke our window?  What about the person a few years ago who graffiti'd our trash cans?  What about the man who asked (that is, told) us to make expensive repairs to a portion of our building "because he loved Jesus"?  Can we invite these people to be our neighbors also?

Indeed, those needing to be accepted as neighbors are the ones from whom we least benefit.  When the Samaritan helped the man on the road in Jesus' parable, he was generous with time and money.  He took care of his physical needs, transported him to an inn, stayed the evening there, paid the man's debt, and promised to return in case more was needed.

The Samaritan was a neighbor to the man before the man could decide he wanted a neighbor.

It's easy to befriend the Mr Rogers of the world who declare "I have always wanted to have a neighbor just like you."  However, when we find our neighbor is more Oscar the Grouch than Mr Rogers, it is then that we can truly model God's love.  We can love first (1 John 4:19).

Advent 2020: Two Perspectives on Love

This post is part of a series of reflections on Advent.
You can read the first post here: 33 DAYS AND COUNTING.

And she gave birth to her firstborn son; and she wrapped Him in cloths, and laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

(Luke 2:7, NASB)

Greater love has no one than this, that a person will lay down his life for his friends. (John 15:13, NASB)

How to love, as with most things in life, is part instinct and part experience.  From an early age we are taught ways to express love.  Some families are affectionate, and some are not.  Some give lots of gifts, while others put more value in spending time together.  (For more information on ways to express love, I highly recommend The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman.)

My family was never especially affectionate. I don't remember cuddling or holding hands, and hugs weren't frequent.  In fact, my sister has reminded me more than once of the time I refused to hug her.  One Christmas, as we left my grandmother's house, I began the always awkward process of saying goodbye to my extended family with hugs.  These weren't the warm embraces I now give friends I haven't seen in a while.  To me, these hugs were just what we were expected to do; they were obligation.  As I worked my way around the room, I arrived at my sister, who instead of hugging, I told "I don't hug people I see everyday."  My comment, though out of place, was true.  We didn't hug everyday.  And in my early adolescent years, I could not make sense of why that day should be any different.

I've heard many people speak of seeing the variety of people as a testament to God's creative nature.  I understand this sentiment, but it's challenging for me.  Sometimes it feels as if we are a piece in a jigsaw puzzle, with each piece needing to connect in just a certain way for things to work out.  Those who have connected, or begun the process of connecting with other pieces, are optimistic.  They see their purpose or at least feel they have one.  Those who are still laying in the pile, though no less important, see things negatively. Could it be that our ability to love and be loved hinges greatly on this point of view?

The Christmas story, too, offers the opportunity to viewed from two different perspectives. The story most know begins with a young woman singing out "my soul magnifies the Lord!" (Luke 1:46). It progresses with a trip across country and culminates with the sweet scent of a new born baby and the star that shined so brightly.  The other reading of the story is very different indeed. It begins with asking God "why me" followed by months of rumors surrounding the unwed soon-to-be mother. An inconvenient census leads this girl to birth her child while the stench of a barn fills her nostrils with each deep, labored breath in the darkness of that night.  It is either the story of homeless refugees who fled for their lives or the generosity of the strangers who welcomed them in. We see either gold, frankincense, and myrrh or tears, blood, and dirt.

My younger son suffers from abdominal migraines.  His episodes have been intermittent over the past five years with more than one trip to the emergency room when the attack was more severe.  I thank God that they seem to be occurring less frequently.  He has only had one minor issue this year, but this morning I woke early from the bathroom light shining down the hallway and under my bedroom door.  It had been on for a while, but in my sleepiness I could not make sense of it until I heard the all too familiar voice at my door "Mom!  I feel lightheaded" as he dropped to his knees, crawling back to the toilet.  He had already taken his medicine and waited uncomfortably for the pain to subside. I sat beside him in the bathroom, rubbing his back and handing him toilet paper to wipe his mouth.  When the worst of it had passed (meaning, after he had thrown up), I got him some water to wash out his mouth.  I made the couch comfortable for him to lay down and watch television.  I got him crackers and sat with him until he fell asleep again. There was little I could do for him except lay down my plans for the morning for his needs.  And, ultimately, I was able to still accomplish the other items I needed in a timely manner.

In John 15, when Christ said that laying our life down for someone was the greatest expression of love, it is understood that He was speaking of His coming death.  Yet, we are only able lay down our life in that final way once, and quite frankly, many of us do not get the chance to approach our death with enough forethought to be that significant.  However, we have opportunities every day to lay ourselves down in our living. In so doing we teach others what true love.  Even Christ had been modeled this kind of love from His earthly beginning. When Mary laid Him in the manger, she was also laying down her own life.  It was not an obligation; it was an honor. May we be as wise.

Advent 2020: Two Bundles of Joy

This post is part of a series of reflections on Advent.
You can read the first post here: 33 DAYS AND COUNTING.

Christmas 2006 was especially meaningful for me. I connected with the story of Christ's birth in a way  I never had before.  Like Mary, I was "great with child" (Luke 2:5, KJV). The idea of traveling across country or giving birth in a barn, though remote possibilities, seemed less festive and more concerning to me. Fortunately, neither became a reality, and I gave birth to my 9 pound, 14 ounce, two-week-early baby in the place and manner we had prepared for. Every birth story is special, including the two that are part of the Nativity in Scripture. Rightfully, we focus on the birth of Christ, but His birth is actually preceded by an equally amazing birth: the birth of John. Why is it so amazing? I'm glad you asked.

It Reminds us of the Error in Human Judgement
Both of them were righteous in the sight of God, observing all the Lord’s commands and decrees blamelessly. But they were childless because Elizabeth was not able to conceive, and they were both very old. (Luke 1:6-7, NIV)

We are introduced to Zechariah and Elizabeth with three primary pieces of information; they were righteous, they were childless, and they were old. All three are important to know about them because it sets the stage for the miracle that was about to occur. It was commonly believed that childlessness was the expression of God's punishment, as is similarly seen in John 9 when the disciples asked Jesus if it was a man or his parents whose sin caused his blindness. However, Luke's account makes it clear that their childlessness was not a result of God's wrath, instead stressing their holy qualities. Not only were they both from the family of priests, they had kept all God's laws - and kept them well. We read this story with the benefit of hindsight, knowing that, just like the blind man, "this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him" (John 9:3, NASB).

It Reminds us that God Can Use any Tradition
Once when Zechariah’s division was on duty and he was serving as priest before God, he was chosen by lot, according to the custom of the priesthood, to go into the temple of the Lord and burn incense. (Luke 1:8-9, NIV)

My husband likes to tease me by calling me "Anthropologist Amie" when I share tidbits I learn about historical culture. Most of the information is useless, but it fascinates me. Anthropologist Amie would like to point out to you that the priests' tradition was drawing lots to decide who had temple duty. In my church's tradition we nominate leaders and let church members vote for key leadership roles. Is one better than the other? Voting is certainly more in line with our American culture, but it is clearly not the only way. This feels like a powerful fact in 2020, perhaps more than it has in any previous year.  Over the past nine months we have done many things differently in churches around the world.  Our traditions have swayed, shifted, and stopped, but God is not in the tradition.  The tradition is just one way to express our adoration to God.


It Reminds us of God's Timing
But the angel said to him: “Do not be afraid, Zechariah; your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you are to call him John." .... Zechariah asked the angel, “How can I be sure of this? I am an old man and my wife is well along in years.” (Luke 1:13,18, NIV)

How long had Zechariah prayed for a child?  Perhaps a more interesting question is, was he still praying for one?  Because Zechariah responds in the way he does, it sounds like he lost all hope of having a child. The Greek word that translates "be sure" in the NIV is GINOSKO, and it expresses a deep, intimate knowledge.  For Seinfeld fans, it's not too different than the Hebrew word YADA, as in He knew his wife.  In fact, in verse 34, Mary asks the Angel how she could be pregnant because she has never known (GINOSKO) a man.  I am not suggesting that Zechariah was asking the angel how to have sex with his wife, but instead, it shows the doubt Zechariah had that this would be something he would see up close and personal in his own life.  By earthly measures, his opportunity had passed, and Zechariah was well aware of that.  However, as the Bible models over and over again, God doesn't just do things, He does them at the right time.  If God had answered Zechariah's prayers at any other point in his life, John would not have been able to be who he was in Christ's life.


It Reminds of the Role we Play
After this his wife Elizabeth became pregnant and for five months remained in seclusion. “The Lord has done this for me,” she said. “In these days he has shown his favor and taken away my disgrace among the people.” (Luke 1:24-25, NIV)

Scholars can debate whether Zechariah played an active role in getting Elizabeth pregnant. Though God's miraculous power does not limit Him from enabling Elizabeth from getting pregnant without the help of her husband, scripture only tells us that one of these pregnancies (Mary's, not Elizabeth's) was by divine impregnation.  I choose to believe that Elizabeth got pregnant the old fashioned way. Zechariah and Elizabeth worked to see the promise fulfilled, but they gave credit to God for accomplishing it.

How many things in my life have I failed to give God credit for because I see the obvious work that I put into accomplishing them?  Too many to count.

So as I turn my eyes past Advent, to look at whatever may come my way, I choose to give God the credit now, even before life's next bundle of joy has been conceived in me.

The next post in this series can be read here: TWO PERSPECTIVES ON LOVE.

Advent 2020: 33 Days and Counting

Thirty three. There are only thirty three days until Christmas. Every year, when I hear someone announce the days until Christmas, it freaks me out a little. Even in the simplest of years, there are always so many things to do. Certainly 2020 has scaled back my December plans. Four parties that I attend each year have been cancelled, and to be honest, I'm not even upset about it. There's just something about a countdown that freaks me out.

I must be one of the few who feel this way.  Christmas countdown calendars seem to be everywhere this year, and I don't just mean the cheap cardboard ones with terrible chocolates inside of them.  I mean beautiful, wooden creations that are meant to be used from year to year and that could last a family a life time, with drawers large enough to hold a Hot Wheels car, a Lindt truffle, or a golf ball.

In some Christian traditions, the season preparing for Christmas is celebrated uniquely.  We call the season Advent.  Advent begins four Sundays before Christmas with each week focusing on Hope, Peace, Joy, or Love.  Different Christian traditions have other focuses, but this is what we celebrate.  Advent means "to come," and there are two things we celebrate the coming of: Christ's birth and Christ's return.

Christ's Birth

The story of Christ's birth is likely well known to even non-believers thanks to Linus' monologue in A Charlie Brown Christmas.  A frustrated Charlie Brown asks if there is anyone who knows what Christmas is really all about, and Linus recites:

And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men. (Luke 2:8-14, KJV)

I must admit that more than once I've heard Linus' voice when Luke 2 has been read in a church service, and it always puts a smile on my face. However, the story of Christ's birth actually begins in Luke 1 with the angel visiting Zechariah who would father John the Baptist, and it goes through Luke 2:39 with the story of Jesus being presented in the temple (not to be confused with Jesus being "forgotten" at the temple, which is the very next story in Luke's gospel account). Matthew 1-2 also tells the account of Christ's birth, but with different details than Luke. Matthew begins with Christ's lineage and concludes with the young family fleeing to Egypt for safety.  Both Luke and Matthew tell the most important part - the birth of Christ.

This is the image of Jesus we usually hold onto at Christmas.  As anyone who has cared for a newborn knows, He was totally dependent on His mother to feed Him and care for Him.  When our first son was born, we acted like a strong wind would break him.  In that same way, we like to imagine Him in Mary's arms while Mary and Joseph look lovingly into His face.

Christ's Return

For the believer, there is a second "coming" that we celebrate at Advent.  We believe that Christ will come again, as He told His disciples in Matthew 24, but this part of the story does not the paint the same images of Him as His birth does:

At that time, the sign of the Son of Man will appear in the sky. Then all the peoples of the world will cry. They will see the Son of Man coming on clouds in the sky with great power and glory.  He will use a loud trumpet to send his angels all around the earth, and they will gather his chosen people from every part of the world. (Matthew 24:30-31, NCV)

Instead of fragility and need, Christ's second coming will be with "great power and glory."  It is both a promise and a warning.  So let us approach Christmas this year with a broader perspective, not just focusing on the Christ Child but also on the Son of Man.

The next post in this series can be read here: HOPE AND TWO DIVORCES.

Happy Birthday to My Son, and His Hair

Mini Golf at the Mall of America.
You can't see his hair, but I promise it's there.

There are some things a person never forgets.

One of them, for me, was that Monday morning 18 years ago when I woke up with a terrible feeling I had never experienced before: I was in labor.

That eight mile drive to the hospital felt like a million, but we made it. By the end of the day I was holding a beautiful baby boy with a dark brown comb-over. Months later we'd finally get brave enough to cut his hair and find underneath those dark brown locks was blonde hair. And, eventually, that hair would gradually change back to a medium brown. Of course, one day he will grey or bald, depending on whose genes dominate.

The story of my son's life reaches far beyond his hair, though his hair hides a lot of stories.

There was the time a barber tried to calm him down by giving him a lollipop before the haircut was over.  Pro tip: don't do that.  Kids don't like hair on their lollipops.

There was the time I tried to cut his hair the night before school starts, but I forgot to put the attachment on the razor.  I'm glad mohawks were in style that year.

In the big picture, hair is nothing.  Yet God pays attention to even the number of hairs on our heads:

Are not five sparrows sold for two cents? Yet not one of them is forgotten before God. Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Do not fear; you are more valuable than many sparrows. (Luke 12:6-7, NASB)

Today, as that beautiful baby boy legally becomes a man, I can't help but thank God for all the years He let me wash, comb, (pay others to) cut his hair, and love him the best I could.

Year Four

And all the people in the synagogue were filled with rage as they heard these things; and they got up and drove Him out of the city, and led Him to the brow of the hill on which their city had been built, in order to throw Him down the cliff.

(Luke 4:28-29, NASB)

Again they tried to seize him, but he escaped their grasp.
(John 10:39, NIV)

Jesus‘ ministry was only three years long.  They were years filled with crowds, chaos, and capture attempts.  There was controversy, conflict, and betrayal.  By today's standards, Jesus was chronically homeless. He paid his taxes from money found in a fish.  He was not understood by the religious elite, and He was rejected in his hometown.  His years of ministry were concluded by the events of Gethsemane, loneliness, and ultimately crucifixion. If the story stopped there, Jesus' ministry would be considered a total failure.  But we know the story doesn't end in year three.  Instead year four - and all of the years after it - are marked with resurrection.

Many of us are living in year three.  Things seem to be going from bad to worse.  Our friends feel distant.  Authorities are working against us.  Our prayers are being answered in ways that break our heart.  We are asking ourselves what could possibly happen next.

Resurrection.

Resurrection could happen next.

What I Heard: Peacemakers

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.
(Matthew 5:8, NASB)

I hate to say that there are parts of Scripture that I like more than others.  I suppose it might be more accurate to say that there are parts of Scripture that I favor more than others.  The stories and ideas that speak to me most draw me in, while other parts do not receive the same focus.  For years I was fascinated by Genesis.  I still consider it the Bible's soap opera, filled with enough betrayal, love affairs, and scandal to give Days of our Lives a run for its money.  For a while I couldn't get out of Hebrews.  The way the author tied together the Old Testament and New Testament kept me turning back to its thirteen chapters.  Most recently I have been captivated (no pun intended) by the Israelite's escape to freedom, what we call the Exodus.  However, the Beatitudes do not get this same attention from me.  I have often turned to Jesus' Sermon on the Mount, but those first few verses in Matthew 5 get moved past quickly.

Yesterday was the first Sunday we met on our church campus for three months.  Everything about it was different - the format, the expectations, and thanks to a flood in our sanctuary even the location.  Yes, for the first time that I can ever recall, we held our Sunday morning service al fresco.  When I was a teenager we held our Easter sunrise service outside, but the main service was always held in the sanctuary.  Even in the late 1980s, when our sanctuary received a significant remodel, services were held inside - sometimes with blankets because it was cold and there were no windows, but always in the sanctuary.

To grossly oversimplify what my pastor taught: We are not called to be peace-experiencers, we are called to be peace-makers.  There are four common expressions of peace making:

1. We make peace with God.
2. We make peace with others.
3. We help others make peace with others.
4. We help others make peace with God.

I won't reiterate the details of his sermon, but if it becomes available on our church's YouTube page, I will link it here.

As I thought about what I heard, I wondered what practical actions make peace?  In other words, how do I actually make peace in all or some of the above capacities?

Walk in Peace

I cannot overlook the fact that peace is an attribute of God; Scripture makes that clear when it says, "But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. Now those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. If we live by the Spirit, let us also walk by the Spirit" (Galatians 5:22-25).  I was recently reminded that fruit does not exist for the the tree that produces it, but it does exist to grow new plants and to nourish the animals that eat from it.  Similarly, I do not experience the fruit of the Spirit for my own benefit.  It is for those around me.  If we are believers, people of the Spirit, we should walk in the Spirit, and that includes walking in peace.

    Another passage that has often drawn me in is the book of Malachi.  How can you not be intrigued by a prophet whose message from God was that He'd rather we shut the doors of the temple than perform useless rituals.  I believe that before the quarantine, but after three months of doing "church at home" I understand it a little more.  For three months I have had few, if any, questions about why the cups at the church coffee bar are a certain size, why the bulletin does or does not have particular information, or why we don't host a certain event.  I still believe that corporate church body has a special place in ministry, but I'm learning so many things were useless fires. Later in Malachi we read about the job of the priests.  We read "true instruction was in his mouth and unrighteousness was not found on his lips; he walked with Me in peace and uprightness, and he turned many back from iniquity" (2:6).  As a priesthood of believers, I believe we are also called to speak truth and not wickedness.  When we walk in peace with God, many will follow.

Speak Peace

Have you ever noticed that words have meaning in Scripture?  There may no better example than Genesis 25 when Jacob tricks his father into giving him the blessing that was intended for his brother.  When Esau learns that he has been tricked (again!) by his brother, he asks his father if there is a way to make things right.  I feel bad for Esau.  Sure, he hadn't made the best decisions, but he was duped by Jacob.  We might have found ourselves advocating for Esaus.  Isn't there any way for Isaac to take back the words he spoke over Jacob?  We understand the circumstances and the deceit (this is some of that classic Genesis scandal I mentioned earlier), but there would be no blessing for Esau.  What had been spoken would stand.  I too need to remember that my words aren't "just words" as if they have lesser meaning than other action.

    In Malachi we see also the power of words, and the prophet goes so far as to say that the priests "have wearied the Lord with [their] words" (2:17). They preached a wrong gospel, saying that God was happy with evildoers. This is a just one point in a long list of grievances against the priests, but again it shows that our words matter because the represent our hearts. As Jesus would say it, "his mouth speaks from that which fills his heart" (Luke 6:45).  So when mouth speaks defensively it reveals the state of my heart.  When my tongue is patient, it reveals something too. It is equally important to remember that silence can be the loudest message we speak.

Make Peace an Offering

We sometimes get tripped up in the word offering.  Among believers today, the word is mostly used for the money we give to our local house of worship.  In the Old Testament, there were offerings given for many reasons.  When I think of offerings, I think of the sin offering because that tends to get talked about more, but the peace offering was distinctly different (you can read about all the offerings in Leviticus 1-7).  The peace offering was voluntary and was given when someone fulfilled a vow, when they wanted to give thanks to God for a special blessing, or just because.  It could be given by an individual or collectively.  The peace offering is unique in that it is the only offering in which the giver, and his friends or family, ate the offering.

    There is no one application of a peace offering that would fit everyone's life. We all live in different communities and are presented with unique opportunities. I do not know what your day will look like tomorrow.  I don't even know what my day will look like tomorrow.  However, I know I will be presented with opportunities to make peace, perhaps even situations when I don't want to make peace. I pray that God will give me the wisdom to see these moments and that He will give me the strength to make peace when I don't want to.  Not for me.  Not for the other person.  May the peace I make be an offering back to the God of peace.

Good Deeds

Before I get into the thick of this, let's have a little laugh. Watch as Friends' Joey and Phoebe debate whether selfless good deeds exist.


There's no denying that we are supposed to do good to others. The Bible makes that abundantly clear in verses such as "Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due, when it is in your power to do it" (Proverbs 3:27, ESV) or "Therefore, to him who knows to do good and does not do it, to him it is sin" (James 4:17, NKJV). Yet, I still find myself thinking that somehow good deeds will offset my bad deeds, as if it wasn't something I'm expected to do, and, instead, is something I'm doing out of my own goodness.

If our good deeds, in fact, earn us something (love from God, admission into heaven, forgiveness, etc) then how good do we have to be? Is sharing a cookie sufficient? Is mending a relationship you would have otherwise given up on sufficient? Is selling everything we have and giving it away sufficient? Is it, as Joey proposes in the above clip, that there is nothing such as a selfless good deed because you feel better as as result of it?

It may be fun to debate the existence of altruism, but the selflessness of a deed is not the most important thing to consider. When unsure of what to do, we can ask ourselves:

1. Is this how I want to be treated?
   "Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you" (Luke 6:38).
2. Do I feel good about this decision?
   "Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver" (2 Corinthians 9:7).
3. Can this deed bring glory to God?
   "You will be enriched in every way so that you can be generous on every occasion, and through us your generosity will result in thanksgiving to God" (2 Corinthians 9:11)

These questions won't tell you the right thing to do in every situation, but they're a good place to start.

Little Man

One of the things that I miss about church while we shelter-in-place is teaching our children.  It's sometimes exhausting, often surprising, and always a blessing.  I'm thankful that my church team is working together to remotely present the gospel to our youngest visitors, but it's not quite the same as being together in person. Today, I felt that void a little more than I have other weeks.  Our curriculum was on the Sunday School classic, Zacchaeus.  Oh, poor Zacchaeus.  He's the Napolean of the Bible.  We miss the wonder of his encounter with Jesus because we get wrapped up in one little detail: Zacchaeus was a wee little man (a wee little man was he).

The Gospel of Luke tells the story like this:

Jesus entered Jericho and was passing through. A man was there by the name of Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax collector and was wealthy. He wanted to see who Jesus was, but because he was short he could not see over the crowd. So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore-fig tree to see him, since Jesus was coming that way.
When Jesus reached the spot, he looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, come down immediately. I must stay at your house today.” So he came down at once and welcomed him gladly.
All the people saw this and began to mutter, “He has gone to be the guest of a sinner.”
But Zacchaeus stood up and said to the Lord, “Look, Lord! Here and now I give half of my possessions to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody out of anything, I will pay back four times the amount.”
Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house, because this man, too, is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.” (Luke 19:1-10, NIV)

In modern days, we focus on the fact that he was short, and I understand why.  It's a great image to think of a grown man climbing a tree to see who's passing by in a crowd.  Like other gospel encounters, we read about a person who was curious about Jesus. I love how verse 3 says "He wanted to see who Jesus was." Maybe he wanted to size up (pun intended) this man he's been hearing about. Maybe he wanted to see one of His famous miracles.  Or maybe, just maybe, the message of Jesus was already beginning to do a work in his heart.  I'm thankful for the Zacchaeus-es of the world, who are willing to do silly things, undignified things, to see who Jesus is.

But the story isn't really about a short, wealthy man who was willing to climb a tree.  The story is about the Savior who was passing through Jericho, who was surrounded by a crowd, and who knew to look to an unlikely spot to find the man who was truly searching for Him. Jesus had previously promised the people, “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened" (Matthew 7:7-8, NIV). Zacchaeus was acting on these words.

Do you think Zaccheaus climbed the tree reluctantly?  I don't think he climbed it saying, "Well, I guess I'll climb this tree if that's what I have to do."  No, I think he was excited that a solution existed. I envision a movie moment.  Zacchaeus is being pushed and shoved in the crowd, maybe getting an elbow to the head.  He stands on his tip toes, but still can't see over the people around him.  Then the crowds part ever so slightly, and he sees the tree (maybe there is a light shining down on it). He pushes through the people to the tree, and he's thankful that he has the opportunity to climb the tree.

When I read a story like this, I usually ask myself what I am willing to do to see Christ.  I think a better question is what I want to do to see Christ.  Paul tells the believers in Corinth that "you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver" (1 Corinthians 9:7, NIV).  Similarly, God doesn't want us to climb the sycamore trees in our life "reluctantly or under compulsion."  We should love climbing the trees that let us see Jesus.

FMF: Another

“A new command I give you: Love one another.

As I have loved you, so you must love one another. 

By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” 

(John 13:34-35, NIV) 

"Another" is one of those easily ignored words in the English language.  We use it without giving it much thought.  It's something we say or write without having to look up the definition or remind ourselves how to properly use in a sentence.

"Another" has two meanings: Additional (like "Have another cookie") and Different (like "Pick another cookie").

When Christ tells us to "love one another" in Scripture, there are two types of people who we need to love.  Those who are like us, an additional person in our type.  Those who are different from us.

As Christ said in Luke 6:32-36, if we only love those who are like us, what credit is there?  Anyone can do that.

Today I will chose to love another person, whether it comes easily or with great sacrifice.

Today I will chose to love another person, whether they are family or strangers.

Today I will chose to love another person, whether I want to or not.

Then I will love another, and then another.




This post is a prompt from Five Minute Friday and was written in approximately five minutes. For more information, visit fiveminutefriday.com.

Prayers in the Garden

Little words matter. Sometimes I don't notice them, but that's a mistake on my part. I'm almost forty years old, I've attended church my entire life, and I've taught children and teens most of my adult years, so I've read the Easter story a lot. I'm not bragging; I'm confessing that I have read something so important so many times and still missed so much.

Each of the four gospel accounts tells the story of Jesus praying in the Garden of Gethsemane. In John it is called the garden across the Kidron Valley. In the Gospel of Luke, it is called the Mount of Olives, at the bottom of which the garden is located. Luke tells the shortest account, just seven verses:

Jesus went out as usual to the Mount of Olives, and his disciples followed him. On reaching the place, he said to them, “Pray that you will not fall into temptation.” He withdrew about a stone’s throw beyond them, knelt down and prayed, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.” An angel from heaven appeared to him and strengthened him. And being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground. When he rose from prayer and went back to the disciples, he found them asleep, exhausted from sorrow.  “Why are you sleeping?” he asked them. “Get up and pray so that you will not fall into temptation.” (Luke 22:39-46, NIV)

As I read this tonight, I noticed some words I've missed many times before.

As usual...

Jesus had established patterns in his life that kept him close to God. After the Last Supper, the story transitions to the garden by saying, "Jesus went out as usual to the Mount of Olives, and his disciples followed him" (Luke 22:39). It doesn't say that Jesus realized he should pray for a while because he knew something difficult was about to happen. It says he went "as usual." Previously in Luke, the writer says that "Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed" (5:16).  Jesus chose his last actions as a free man to be prayer because that's what he did.  He was a man of prayer.

More earnestly...
Jesus prayed a lot, and yet in his darkest days he found an even deeper level of passion and conviction. We read that "being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground" (Luke 22:44). Jesus knew what was coming next, so he spoke to God more passionately. He did not try to hide his heart; he laid it all on the line.  Jesus was able to do this because he fully trusted God's will for his life.  As Timothy and Shauna Gaines write in their book, Kings & Presidents, "When you don't have a vision for how God is saving in the midst of hardship, your recourse will be to blame God and sink into despair. You can either ask God to help you see something others can't, or you can blame God for your circumstances." Jesus was able to see the situation in a way others did not. His heart was in tune with God. 

Exhausted from sorrow...
I've often wondered why Jesus was so hard on the disciples for falling asleep. Some believe this account occurred after midnight, a time late enough to warrant fatigue. Like it so often is, the truth is hidden in plain sight. Notice the cause of the disciples fatigue according to the gospel writer: "When he rose from prayer and went back to the disciples, he found them asleep, exhausted from sorrow. 'Why are you sleeping?' he asked them. 'Get up and pray so that you will not fall into temptation''' (Luke 22:45-46). The disciples weren't tired from a long worry; they were exhausted from a long worry. Jesus received power from his prayer time. His intimacy with God did more for his body and spirit than sleep did. Don't misunderstand me, sleep is important. However, sleep would not protect any of them from what was about to occur, only pray would. His prayer time was an expression of his faith as much as any of his miracles were.

With just a few days until Easter, I think about the unique situation that the disciples found themselves in. They didn't realize that they would soon witness history or that their actions would be studied and scrutinized by millions of people for thousands of years. Most people can't predict which of their actions will be remembered and which will be forgotten, and no one knows what will happen at midnight.  We can, however, determine if Jesus finds us asleep or in prayer.

My 100

The number 100 appears frequently in the Bible. Abraham was 100 years old when Isaac was born to him (Genesis 21). The courtyard of the temple was 100 cubits on the north/south side (Exodus 17). The Israelite army would be able to fight 100 men with only five if obedient to God (Leviticus 26). The penalty for slandering a woman after marrying her was 100 shekels and the inability to divorce her... #awkward (Deuteronomy 22). Jacob bought a burial property for 100 shekels, and Joseph was eventually buried there (Joshua 24). Saul requested a dowry of 100 foreskins from David, and was paid two hundred... #superawkward (1 Samuel). Obadiah hid 100 of God's prophets in caves to protect them (1 Kings 18). The unnamed man's offering feeds 100 people (2 Kings 4). There were 100 gold sprinkling bowls in the temple (2 Chronicles 4).

Jesus also used the number in His parables. Jesus says the Word is a like a seed that will produce a crop 100, sixty, or thirty fold (Mark 4). Jesus says that He, like a man who owns 100 sheep, would leave ninety-nine to fine one that is lost (Luke 15). Jesus compares human forgiveness to a servant whose master forgave his debt of ten thousand bags of gold but would not forgive his co-worker who owed him 100 silver coins (Matthew 18).

There's another 100 that doesn't get the same glory some of these other verses get. It's easy for me to read about Abraham receiving his blessing at 100 or even laugh about David's dowry payment, and I love to read Jesus' parables as both spiritual wisdom and well crafted literature. However, I don't often turn to Revelation when I open the Bible.

I took a New Testament class my second semester in college. As we approached Revelation, Professor Bob Smith told us that we would be reading the book in its entirety during class.  Instead of sitting at the desks of our basement level class, we would be lounging in the cafeteria to read it one sitting.  The other lectures all blur together; that one stands out.

In chapter sixteen, the seven bowls of God's wrath are poured out on earth. Terrible things happen, but the people refuse to repent and glorify God. It reminds me of the Egyptian plagues on steroids. If I'm being honest, I really struggle with this passage. I'm pretty stubborn, and I'm not sure that festering sores would make me worship God. I guess that's the problem: I don't allow difficulties to draw me to God the way they should.

The seven bowls are poured out, the kings meet together at Armageddon (after the sixth bowl, to be accurate), and a voice comes from the temple saying "It is done!" Don't get this confused with Christ's proclamation on the cross "It is finished!" This voice in Revelation is more like how we might say "well, that happened." Then come the lightning, thunder, an earthquake, and (are you ready for it?) 100 pound hailstones. Not a 100 pound hailstone - hailstones, plural. Not only did the people refuse to bless God because of these hailstones, they actually caused the people to curse Him.

I don't know if any of the difficult things going on in our lives are mini-bowls of wrath (shot glasses of wrath?). I don't know why things happen or why God operates the way He does. However, I know that every day is an opportunity to repent, to glorify God, and to seek His will in my life.

So on this, my 100th blog post, let me say: Don't wait for 100 pound hailstones.

Communion and the Coronavirus

Becoming an online student has come with a learning curve for both my children and me. Certain classes have been very straightforward with students checking assignments daily on Google Classrooms and then following the prompts. Other classes have left me wondering how the work will be finished. My older son is enrolled in a ceramics class. For obvious reasons, he won't be making projects at home. (My fire insurance carrier is thankful for that!) Instead, he was assigned to share the instructions for a "meaningful recipe," bake it, and then take a magazine-style photo of the food in the bowl he made last semester.

For every family, what has meaning is a little different. I once heard Ina Garten say that she makes a roast chicken every Friday for her husband.  Think about all the special moments that have been shared between them while eating chicken, especially considering she's been married more than 50 years! I recently heard Jeff Mauro tell a story about having a late night bowl of cereal with his son.  I remember thinking that when his son grows up he will likely think of his dad every time he eats cereal. Needless to say, I couldn't wait to hear what held a special place in my son't heart.

After some thought, he chose our Breakfast Cookies. Look at these beauties:

Photo Credit: Jacob Wills

I know that at some point I saw a recipe that inspired these cookies, but I've been making them so long that I don't know where.  Because they are so simple, I have been making them without a written recipe. Before you ask, I'm not one of those people that memorizes all her recipes. There is only one other recipe that I have memorized.

These Breakfast Cookies are made from just:

*2 overripe bananas, mashed

*1/3 cup peanut butter

*1/3 cup chocolate chips

*1.5 cups old fashioned oats

*Mix everything in a bowl until well combined, then scoop using a #50 scoop (about two tablespoons), and bake for 15-17 minutes at 350*,

There is another special meal we often share. I sometimes forget this tradition started at a dinner table because I usually call it by it's "church name." Communion, or Eucharist depending on one's tradition, started when Jesus and His disciples shared a traditional Jewish meal: Passover. This is what we are told in the Gospel of Luke:

When the hour came, Jesus and his apostles reclined at the table. And he said to them, “I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer. For I tell you, I will not eat it again until it finds fulfillment in the kingdom of God.” After taking the cup, he gave thanks and said, “Take this and divide it among you. For I tell you I will not drink again from the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes. And he took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me.” In the same way, after the supper he took the cup, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you." (Luke 22:14-20, NIV)

I have taken communion more times than I can remember, but I do remember the ones that had significant meaning.

I first took communion when I was young, maybe four or five. I remember my mom explaining to me what it meant - both the symbolism in the bread and juice and that it should only be taken by those who have faith in Christ. I understood, at least as much as a child of that age can, and so I ate and drank. I consider that my first confession of faith.

I last took communion two days ago. It didn't look like the traditional bread and juice, but I believe it was even more special for that reason. I should tell you that we don't often have saltines or juice in the house, but I had picked up cranberry juice because my husband has been craving it recently and I picked up the crackers for no particular reason. No particular reason except, as I now believe, to have the elements for communion. When we sat down to watch the broadcast of our Sunday morning service, I had no idea it would include a time of communion. However, because God provides what we need, I had it all.

I remind you: We are socially distanced, but we don't have to be spiritually distanced. #cantstopthechurch

St Patrick's Day 2020: God is ____-er than me...

It started as one of those simple brotherly games. Josiah (5) was stating random facts to Jacob (10).  Jacob would respond with a DING if he was correct or an AAAA! if he was incorrect. Josiah would say things like "a bunny is bigger than a giraffe" and then receive an AAAA! from his brother.

They had been playing for a few minutes when I heard Josiah say, "God is bigger than me."

AAAA!

So he tried again, "God is smaller than me."

AAAA!

Even at five, he had a basic concept of size. He knew what bigger than and smaller than meant.  Frustrated, Josiah asked his brother, "What then?"

That's when Jacob said "God is the same size as me."

I wanted to yell DING because he had just spoken some deep theological truth. Yes, God is bigger than me. He created the universe and "the train of his robe fills the temple" (Isaiah 6:1). He is small enough to know us before we are formed in the womb (Jeremiah 1:5). Don't think that's small? The human ovum is less than 4/1000 of an inch.

Yet, the real miracle of God is that He is also our same size: "Test yourselves to see if you are in the faith; examine yourselves! Or do you not recognize this about yourselves, that Jesus Christ is in you— unless indeed you fail the test?" (2 Corinthians 13:5, NASB, emphasis mine).

It reminds me of a portion of the Prayer of Saint Patrick:

Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me,
Christ in the eye that sees me,
Christ in the ear that hears me.

May it be so.

Water Words

Why is it so hard to say good things? When I open my mouth there seems to be an endless supply of complaining, criticism, and discouragement. I can think of so many times when I haven't thought about what I was about to say, so it came out in a way I later regretted.

Have you ever had your hot water run out on you? Maybe your water heater was broken, and you didn't realized it before you got in the shower. I've been there; it's not fun. Or maybe you were the last person taking a shower one morning, and there wasn't enough hot water. I've been there too; it's equally as frustrating. In both situations, my instinct was to turn the cold water knob a little less and, if that didn't work, turn the hot water knob a little more.

Maybe the problem with my words is that I'm turning the wrong knob. The solution to my negativity is not to be less negative. The solution is to fill my mouth with the things worthy of being spoken.

The book of James deals with such practical, real-life topics that it is hard to believe it was written two millennia ago. James compares our words not to hot and cold water, but to fresh and salty (and you thought salty was new slang). He writes, "With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse human beings, who have been made in God’s likeness. Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this should not be. Can both fresh water and salt water flow from the same spring? My brothers and sisters, can a fig tree bear olives, or a grapevine bear figs? Neither can a salt spring produce fresh water" (James 3:9-12, NIV).

James would tell me to stop trying to turn down the cold water of "cursing" and start turning up the hot water of "praise."

Or he might tell me to stop trying to pick olives off a fig tree. The fig tree in my back yard has just started leafing. In the last two weeks it has gone from barren to a healthy growth of leaves, some already as wide as three inches. It's much too early for figs, but in another month or so, as summer gets closer, I'll become impatient and start checking the progress of the figs more often than is needed. Some years are lean and some years are plentiful, but in all the years this tree has been in my back yard I've never once found an olive growing on it.

Jesus himself also compared our words to fruit. In Luke 6:43-45 He tells the crowd, “No good tree bears bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit. Each tree is recognized by its own fruit. People do not pick figs from thornbushes, or grapes from briers. A good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and an evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of."

According to Jesus, my mouth speaks negativity because my heart is filled with it. Ouch.

Like my fig tree, I believe in personal leafing. What seems barren can produce fruit. To say it another way, when properly connected, God can provide endless streams of hot water to our soul by warming the cold reserves in the tank of our heart.