Traditions

It's a funny thought to consider that all traditions were once a new idea.

One tradition most Americans (and many people around the world) connect with is "the ball" dropping on New Years Eve in New York. While we confidently look for this event each year on the television, there was a time just over a hundred years ago when it was nothing more than an idea.

And what about our religious traditions? On Sunday night I had a discussion with a pastor in my denomination who told me we are expected to have communion seven times each year. While some local churches surely observe communion less than that, there are other local churches - like the one at which the aforementioned pastor works at - whose tradition is to participate in communion every Sunday. Same denomination, different implementations of our tradition.

And while on the topic of communion, this too was once a new idea. It was implemented by Christ at the Last Supper when, gathered together with His closest friends, the Lord broke bread and changed an old tradition (Passover) to a new one (Communion or Eucherist, depending on your tradition - see where I'm going).

And so it was last night at the church I attend when I gathered together for a planning meeting. This meeting happen to fall on Epiphany - the 12th day after Christmas historically observed as the date when the Wise Men found the Christ Child. Or, as it's known in Spanish speaking cultures, Dia de Reyes. This is not a day we normally celebrate at our church, but, thanks to my good friend who does celebrate it and told me about the tradition, I stopped at my local bakery and purchased a Rosca on my way to the meeting.

For those of you not familiar with this holiday, according to Wikipedia, "The tradition of placing a trinket (a figurine of the Christ child) in the cake is very old. The baby Jesus hidden in the bread represents the flight of the Holy Family, fleeing from King Herod's Massacre of the Innocents. Whoever finds the baby Jesus figurine is blessed and must take the figurine to the nearest church on February 2."

Will this event become a tradition? Only time will tell. In the meantime, what are some of your traditions?

"When the wise men saw the star, they were filled with joy. They came to the house where the child was and saw him with his mother, Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. They opened their gifts and gave him treasures of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. But God warned the wise men in a dream not to go back to Herod, so they returned to their own country by a different way" (Matthew 2:10-12).

Monica

It's that time of year when all is new and all is old simultaneously.  There is something about looking to the future that causes us to also remember the past.  The New Year is always a difficult time for me.  Regardless of how happy I am, I get lost in remembering years gone by.

God prepared a comfort for me this year weeks before I need them.  The words I'd need leaped out of the pages of Ann Voskamp's advent devotional, The Greatest Gift.  Ann quoted these words of CS Lewis in context of the story of Jonah, but they have been comforting me during these holidays

"We all want progress... [but] if you are on the wrong road, progress means doing an about-turn and walking back to the right road; and in that case, the man who turns back soonest is the most progressive."

I've spent a good amount of time over the last few weeks thinking about this idea of progress.  Where am I?  Where do I want to go?  And also I've been thinking about the concept of turning around?  Where would I go back to?  What have I given up that maybe I shouldn't have?  A thought came to my mind this morning: Monica.

This morning I was praying for Mary, a friend from high school.  I hadn't seen Mary since I graduated, but I ran into her a few years ago at a mutual friend's birthday party.  Since then we have stayed loosely connected through social media.  Mary was a year or two younger than me, she was in the band, and she had this friend she called Monica.  Monica was, by all regards, your average teenage girl.  With one exception: she wasn't real.  She was me.  In case you're confused, or you think I've lost my mind, let me clarify.  For reasons neither Mary or I could remember - and boy did we get a good laugh trying to remember - she called me Monica.

In no way am I looking to go back my high school self.  That Amie missed out on opportunities because she cared too much about what other people thought and was too insecure about who she was.  But there was a part of her that was amazing too: she was passionate and optimistic about what life held for her.  That alter-Amie (the Monica, if you will) is long gone, but perhaps there are things I can learn from her if I remember a little more about who she was.

"Jonah spent three days and three nights in the belly of a great fish, as the Son of Man will spend three days and three nights in the belly of the earth. One day, the people of Nineveh will rise up in judgment and will condemn your present generation—for the Ninevites turned from sin to God when they heard Jonah preach, and now One far greater than Jonah is here." (Matthew 12:40-41)

And just like Jonah, when we face that turning point in our lives, when we've been going the wrong way and know we need to turn around, when we are ready to finally go the direction we are supposed to, don't be surprised if you find yourself sitting in the belly of a fish for a few days.

God, I pray it be a metaphorical belly, and not a literal one.  Although a literal one might not be too bad because I'd have some great writing material when I came out...

The Story of the Toy Soldier

As the kids played at our church Christmas party on Saturday they received prizes including these toy soldiers. At the end of the night Jacob (10) realized he had lost his. We looked for it but could not find it.  My sister found one, but noticing it was not the same - this new one had a grenade instead of a rifle - he did not want it.  He wanted the one that he had been given.  He was heartbroken.

The next day, Sunday, when we arrived at church one little girl, Emily (6), ran up to Jacob and pulled a toy soldier out of her purse.

"Wow, Jacob, tell Emily thank you for finding your toy soldier," I prompted him.  Emily said nothing and happily ran off.

Later, Emily's grandma set the record straight: that was not actually Jacob's toy soldier. It was her toy, but seeing how much more her friend wanted it, she freely gave it to him. Thank you God for this model of generosity!

But wait, the story gets better!  Sunday evening when my two sons were playing with their toy soldiers I saw they had three.  So, I asked my son where the extra had come from.  He told me that Emily's brother (also named Jacob) had given his to my son Jacob as well.

Generosity is contagious: Catch it, Share it.

Command them to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share. In this way they will lay up treasure for themselves as a firm foundation for the coming age, so that they may take hold of the life that is truly life. (1 Timothy 6:18-19, NIV)

Almost Amish: Opting Out

(As originally written, 10/24/2012)

I began reading a book tonight that has been on my book shelf about three months. On a rare trip to a Christian bookstore this book screamed at me to buy it as soon as I saw it's title: Almost Amish.

I'm not really sure why the book was so appealing except for a few reasons. I always secretly loved the idea of being Amish. Maybe it was because I saw Harrison Ford glamorize it in his movie WITNESS when I was younger. Maybe it was because of my first apartment - a one room haven that was simple, yet delightful. Maybe it was just because my life is so busy that I would do anything to slow it down.

After reading the first two chapters I am encouraged to make small changes, some of which I have already been contemplating (read: wanting to do but not yet succeeding at) like opening my home more and eating more at home. The thought that surprised me most was the idea of opting out of anything and everything you can. And while the author has a near 1984esque fear of Big Brother, she makes a valid point. For most of us, more coupons equate to more spending, not more saving. And so I have decided that tomorrow I am opting out. I know it seems random, but it is a baby step that may remove a few minutes from my daily routine, whether going through junk mail or e-mail.

She discusses the beauty of a less-technology life. Why do we need to plug in when we can experience God in the real world and connect face to face? Aside from the financial cost, there are emotional and social costs.

She also reference several compelling statistics and scripture for reducing our social media footprint (I should trademark that expression).

And as I set down my book and logged into Facebook (yes, I clearly see the irony in what I just said) I was greeted with this photo:

And I was reminded of the night my kids and I built a fort in our living room and watched CARS during our Not-Bummer-Summer of 2011. The joy was in the simplicity of our creation and being together, not in watching the movie.

Olympic Spirit

A few nights ago as my husband and I talked I reminded him that the Olympics are starting this week, to which he replied, "I know.  Aren't you excited!"  And yes, I was.  I am.  We both are.  I then realized there could be couples in dozens - if not hundreds - of countries around the world having the same conversation.

The Olympics are such a great occasion.  The common bond of friendly competition, the excitement of tradition, and the beauty of athletic ability are just a few reasons I always enjoy them.  As it should, I am saddened to hear stories of when this Olympic spirit is broken.  In the 1972 Olympics, terrorists took 9 people hostage - an action that ultimately ended with 16 deaths, becoming known as the Munich Massacre.  Most of us still remember the 1996 Olympic bombing in which two were killed and dozens more injured.  Surely there are many more, and ones very few no about.  They are so contradictory to the unity of the events.

In Ephesians we read about another unity, not to celebrate our similarities as humans, but our unity in our faith:

Therefore I, the prisoner of the Lord, implore you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling with which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, showing tolerance for one another in love, being diligent to preserve the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.  There is one body and one Spirit, just as also you were called in one hope of your calling; one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all who is over all and through all and in all. (Ephesians 4:1-6, NASB)

Imagine if we could celebrate our salvation in the same way we celebrate the Olympics.  Did you see what he overcame to get here?  Imagine if we could encourage each other's performance in daily life.  You tried so hard, I'm sorry it didn't work out for you the way you wanted.  Imagine if we could truly live in unity, in one Spirit, in the way we were called to live.