Two years ago, the city of Nashville, Tennessee experienced a catastropohic flood that devastated much of the city's structures and forever changed the landscape of the country music capital. As the rain fell and the rivers crested, homes were reduced to rubble and lives were drastically deformed. In the immediate aftermath, my husband and I went there to do a very small part in helping our "neighbors" to heal. We helped with clean up and rebuilding efforts, and most importantly cared for the spirits of those who were victimized, reminding them that God hadn't forgotten them.
When we visit Nashville today, we see very little (visible) evidence of that destruction that seemed at the time to be unrecoverable. Though the emotional scars undoubtedly remain, the physical healing and restoration is glaring. Houses have been rebuilt; businesses that were once underwater have now reopened; yards that were reduced to fields of mud and toxic sludge now have flowers blooming. Lives have been restored, and hearts have been healed. The old has been made new. There is now something where there once was nothing.
God is in the business of redemption. He is the master of making something from nothing. He spoke the universe into existence. He gave life to a body formed from dust. Restoration is His specialty. Jesus himself said, "Behold, I make all things new." Not some things - ALL things. It was hard to imagine it while standing in the middle of that devistating flood, knee deep in heartache and loss; but God would, in the wake of that disaster, make new the old, bring life from death, and bring beauty from ashes. And He did it in more ways than one.
Not only did He restore that great city and the lives that dwell there, but He used that experience to birth a vision deep with my and my husband's hearts. It was there that we felt the call of God to be part of a new work that would personify this vision for ministry that could be and needed to be accomplished in our own city. We began praying about being involved in planting a new local church - from scratch - and living out our desires that we believe God placed within us. Desires for a corporate body that didn't settle, didn't do things the same traditional ways everyone else did them (with just a different name and a different sign out front), and that wasn't satisfied with comfort, complacency, and status quo. Nine short months later, we (with the help and hard work of a few others who also had dreams) opened the doors to that new work. That flood had ignited a spark within us that quickly became a blazing fire that wouldn't be quenched.
Today, as I sat in church, I couldn't help but be amazed by the reality that what didn't even exist two years ago was now a living, thriving ministry in which I have seen lives radically changed. It's a work that fans the flames of my faith, because the fruit I've gotten to witness has not been a result of anything we could have ever done. I realize that as hard as we've worked and as much as we've given, we are simply along for the ride, and the Holy Spirit of God has been the force behind all of it. What I've been privileged to see and experience is so beyond me, my comprehension, and my abilities. God has done amazing work, and he's given us a front row seat. And oh, how I am enjoying the view! I often wonder why God would have me to be part of his plans and wonders, but He has made it abundantly clear that while He doesn't need me to help Him accomplish anything, He has given me the privilege of watching it up close. I'll never fully know why, but I'm grateful that He allows His creation - anyone who wants to be a part of it - to join in. It's humbling.
This morning, I walked into the dimly lit theater where we gather to worship and I was immediately overwhelmed. There was a team of musicians singing and playing their hearts out - not because of the hundred or so people in the "audiance", but because they had an audiance of One, and they were clearly focused on Him. There was an entire group of people down in front (between the stage and the first row of seats) just dancing with joy. They were singing and dancing with arms lifted high towards heaven, not caring who was watching, but spinning and jumping as the music loudly filled the auditorium. I know the sotries of some of those peoples' lives, and I know why they were dancing. It's the joy that comes with freedom. A few others were at their seats kneeling on the floor shedding tears, and a husband and wife were kneeling and praying together close by. Their hearts were in a different place than those who were dancing, but I loved that they were each connecting to the same God in the same place, just with diferent expressions. I just stood there singing, overtaken with gratitude, quietly thanking Jesus for his faithfulness in my life.
After the musical worship time but before the teaching time, our pastor asked if anyone had a testimony of God's faithfulness they wanted to share with the family. Several people shared briefly some of the work God was doing in their lives, but I was watching "Happy", who could barely stay in his seat. When Jay (our pastor) called on him, Happy jumped out of his seat and ran onto the stage to grab the microphone. His smile was piercing. I know Happy's story too, and tears came to my eyes as I watched his excitement. He talked about how he used to be homeless, and how he spent his days hiking and wandering from place to place, sleeping in tents. He talked about how someone from our church (during a street outreach) approached him as he mingled with people at the "Occupy" demonstrations and struck up a conversation. That person listened to his story and shared a little of their own story, and the next Sunday he showed up at church. Happy was very knowledgable about the Bible, but he had no plans to become part of a local church. But when he showed up - dirty and dishevled - and found a strange combination of unconditional love, diverse people, and an academic presentation of the Bible that challenged him, he knew he'd be back. As he struggled with depression and even suicidal desires, he continued to be drawn back to the place where he was making friends, learning more about Jesus, and finding an identity (and it helped that our pastor and a few others literally canvased the city and searched for him in fear that he would take his own life). Happy enthusiastically told the poeple at church this morning how God began to transform his life. He talked about redemption and the blood of Jesus that was shed at the cross to purchase his restoration. He talked about how he became our church "barista" and loves making coffee for people while getting to know them. He told the church that, through this transformation, he now has an apartment downtown and real furniture, and (this is the best part) how he now takes in other people off the streets and ministers to them! Every week people in the church bring him carloads full of donations of food, clothes, shoes, and suppplies - NOT for Happy, but for those he takes in and ministers to. As he was sharing about this new "ministry" that began in his new home, another man in the crowd chimed in and shouted, "Happy just gave me these new shoes this morning!"
I then glanced over at another man in our fellowship - we'll call him "Joe". Joe has been living a transgender life and has been in and out of jail. He has been coming to our church every week for several months now, never missing a week. On many occassions he wore a dress to church, and I'm sure he expected to either be kicked out or at least shunned by the people. Neither of those things happened and he continued to come, hearing the gospel presented every time. He later told us he was baffled by the love and acceptance of the people, and even though we preach an exclusive gospel and the truth of Jesus Christ's death and resurrection, he's drawn to our message. He's curious about our Jesus. He admittedly is still "on the fence" about this Jesus stuff, but he's open and wants to learn more. We laugh with him as we tell him we've "calimed his life" and are waiting for him to finally submit to the saving power of Christ. Today he wore jeans to church, and he told the entire body of people that he's never known anyone to love him the way our body has.
A few rows away from him sat a couple who were separated and on the brink of divorce not too long ago - he having an anger problem, and she having an extramarital relatinship. They are now happily back together, have renewed their vows, and come to worship every week with their beautiful children. And there are countless other stories that are similar. I simply don't have room to write all of the redemption that I see in those seats every week. From the guy who plays bass on the stage, to the guy with the felony record... to my very own household.
As I sat there a took this all in, my heart began to overflow. When this ministry was just a dream for me, I never imagined what it would feel like to watch lives change right before my eyes and witness such drastic transformations that could only be the work of a mighty God. I am no stranger to the life-changing power of God - I spent 15 years in a church in Florida where I got to witness it daily. But I wasn't a part of that work from the ground up, so somehow it's different this time. It's just sureal to me that two years ago none of this existed. These people who are now family didn't even know each other. People who were wandering the streets are now home. People who were deep in sin use are now free. People who were lost are now found. It's crazy to think about. But it's the redemptive power of God at work right in front of my eyes. It's the fuel that powers my faith every time I see it. It's the encouragement I need to get through the demands of ministry and the toll it takes on my family. It's the reminder that the God I've given my life to serve is real and working in my midst. And that there is more than just the here and now, and more than what we can see on the surface at play. There is a kingdom beyond this earth, and I get to see it, touch it, taste it, and take part in it every day. That will never stop amazing me. It's why I can't wait to get up every morning and jump into God's word. It's why I can't wait to lead our upcoming women's retreat where the topic is redemption and where some of these stories will be shared. It's why I can't wait to get to church every Sunday. It's why I love Jesus. It's why I want everyone else to know Him too.
God is in the business of redemption. He makes all things new. He brings life from death, something from nothing. I've seen it. I've experienced it. And it blows my mind.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
25 Things You Don't Know About My Husband
Go on, admit it. You clicked on this link because you thought I was going to give you something scandalous and salacious, didn't you? Well I'm not going to do that... but I will tell you 25 things you don't know about my husband. After my last blog post (25 Things You Don't Know About Me), I decided to do a follow-up post about my husband. If you read this all the way through, I guarantee you'll learn something about him.
1. He wore a suit and tie to kindergarten most days.
2. He had wavy, golden blonde hair until he was about 4 years old (and it was long, because his mom didn't want to cut it).
3. His favorite pair of shoes as a child were pink Converse high-tops.
4. He met and started dating his future wife (me) when he was 14 years old!
5. He was a freshman in high school dating a senior. His friends thought he was cool, and mine thought I was crazy.
6. Six months after we started dating, he bought me a tiny diamond "promise" ring, using money he made working as a bag boy at a local grocery store.
7. For my high school graduation, the two of us took a trip (by ourselves) to New York City. I was 18 and he was 16. It was only his 2nd time outside of the state he was born in (Florida).
8. He didn't get any questions wrong on the math portion of his SAT. And he earned the nickname "Rain Man" when he worked in Calvary Chapel's accounting department because of his crazy math skills.
9. His original major in college was Biology (for a pre-med track), but after the first year, he switched it to accounting because it was much easier and he didn't have to study much.
10. He gave his life to Jesus, got baptized (in the Atlantic Ocean), and proposed to me all at the age of 20 years old.
11. When he proposed to me, he sent me on a scavenger hunt throughout our city. Each clue was a poem written by him and left at a location that was special to us (the restaurant of our first date, our church, a lifeguard stand on the beach...). The final stop on the hunt was a movie theater, where he had our song playing, pictures of us on the screen, and roses at my reserved seat. He emerged with a ring and asked me to marry him.
12. He was as actively involved in planning our wedding as I was. He made many things by hand, stayed up all night putting our programs together, and he even got buckets of sand from the beach to use in our decorations.
13. He had a specific moment in college while stopped at a red light where he felt a clear and specific calling to be a pastor. The crazy part was that he had not yet given his life to Jesus, so it didn't make any sense to him. (Two years later, he gave his life to the Lord and began working for a church/ministry.)
14. He's been actively involved in ministry of some kind ever since. His biggest passion in life is to see people come to know Jesus and to help them grow in a relationship with Christ - especially children. He preached his first sermon in September of this year, and he loved it.
15. He is a "helper". He loves to serve people. He will drop what he's doing at any time to help anyone with anything - rain or shine, winter or summer, day or night. And he enjoys every minute of it.
16. His most embarrassing moment happened while we were in Africa for two months serving as short-term missionaries. He was battling stomach problems from eating African food, and had an 'explosive' episode as a guest in someone's home, whose toilet happened to be broken (unbeknownst to Luke). It was literally a scene right out of the movie 'Dumb & Dumber' (those of you who've seen the movie will understand). This post may be TMI, but I couldn't resist. And trust me, I left out the gory details.
17. Although he likes sports, he doesn't pay much attention to them. We're college football fans, so he catches most of the Gator games, but other than that, he hardly ever watches a game of another kind, with the excpetion of an occassional Monday Night Football game. He has missed many Super Bowls and World Series to do something fun with me or the family.
18. He gives me a foot massage every night, usually at the end of my shower or bath, and he doesn't do it half-hearted. He uses lotion and everything.
19. He leads our family in 'family devotions' (and Bible discussion) at the dinner table 3 nights a week. And he puts the kids to bed and prays with them every night.
20. He makes it a point to go to bed with me every night. He doesn't believe in doing things seperately. We even watch the same TV shows so we're not in seperate rooms of the house at night. He tells me at least once a day that I am his best friend and that he loves spending time with me. He is an incredibly loving and affectionate husband.
21. Whenever the kids are sick, HE is the one to stay up at night with them and clean up vomit, etc. (Like I said before, he is a servant and takes joy in letting me off easy.) He also gets Jonah ready for school each morning and drops himm off.
22. He is a "preaching junkie". He loves listening to other pastors' sermons - no matter their style or denomination. And he enjoys visiting other people's churches for fun.
23. He wins every game he plays. Board games, billiards, mini golf, Scrabble on the iPad... it doesn't matter. If it's a game, he is winning. I beat him at mini golf once on our honeymoon, and he has never gotten over it. But he used to let me win at pool when we were dating in high school. That's how I knew he loved me, because he doesn't let anyone win - ever.
24. He can rap Vanilla Ice's "Ice Ice Baby" in its entirety, and he does it every chance he gets to do karaoke.
25. He has a huge heart. He loves his wife, his kids, and pretty much everybody on the planet. It takes a lot to make him mad. In fact, in 18 years of being with him, he has never once raised his voice at me. Ever.
25 Things You Don't Know About Me
Occassionally I read 'US Weekly' magazine for some mind-numbing entertainment (don't judge me). Amidst the celebrity gossip and the latest news on 'The Bachelor' there is a section called '25 Things You Don't Know About Me' where someone famouse reveals their 25 things. I was reading one the other day and thought to myself, "could I come up with 25 things people don't know about ME?" I don't know that they exist. My life is pretty much an open book, and I consider myself to be fairly transparent. But am I? Or do I share selectively and hide the things I don't want people to know? Am I good at masking the secrets that make me vulnerable or are painful to reveal? As I contemplated, I realized that my husband knows everything there is to know about me, and some close friends/family know most things about me. And the rest only know what I choose to display. And I'm not sure that's a bad thing. Not everyone needs to know our deepest hurts, our biggest fears, or our most intimate details. I use discernment when I share myself, and all in all, I still think I'm pretty "knowable" (transparent).
I was still challenged by the thought of coming up with 25 things people don't know about me that I'd be willing to share... so I put pen to paper and began to think. This is what I came up with:
1. My parents divorced when I was 2 years old, and though I was very young, I still bear the scars of that seperation.
2. I gave my life to Jesus and was baptized at 8 years old, even though my parents did not know Jesus before that and my dad staged a protest of my baptism and tried to talk me out of it.
3. That same dad gave his life to Christ almost 30 years later (in his 50s) when I brought him to church. And now he convicts me with his discipline to study the Bible and tell others about Christ.
4. I went to a Catholic middle school and got an 'F' in religion because I argued with my teacher and refused to do work I disagreed with.
5. I was a cheerleader in school, but I got kicked off the team for bad grades.
6. I drove my mom crazy by being a poor student in all of grade school. I was more interested in my social life at school than studying.
7. I was such a bad student that my parents warned me often that I would never graduate or get a good job. Ironicaly, I became an excellent student in college and made the Dean's list many times. I graduated from the University of Florida with a 3.5 average (probably just to prove them wrong - I'm a bit stubborn, but everyone knows that about me).
8. At 15 years old, I told my mom I was going to a movie with a girlfriend and sleeping over at her house. I really went to a club in Miami Beach with some random guys I didn't know (and that girlfriend). We missed curfew that night, but we used the excuse we got caught at a long train. It was worth getting grounded for.
9. I was the world's biggest Pearl Jam fan in high school, and I came late to my step-grandmother's funeral so I could go to the Lalapalooza concert to see them.
10. I met and started dating my husband in high school at 16 years old.
11. I knew after 6 months of dating him that I was going to marry him.
12. I was a competitive gymnast as a young girl, and I quit gymnastics to take up dance (ballet, tap, and jazz). I continued dancing into my mid 20s.
13. My husband and I gad our first 'real' date at a restaurant called Lester's Diner. Six years later, he proposed to me by sending me on a scavenger hunt around town. One of the places I had to go to get my next clue was Lester's Diner.
14. I love to travel. I've been to 42 out of 50 states in the U.S. and also many other countries and continents (Africa, the Carribbean, Mexico, Canada, England, France, Switzerland, Austria, and more).
15. My husband and I took our 4 year-old son to spend two months in Uganda, Africa living at an orphanage. It was one of the most amazing, life-changing experiences I've ever had.
16. When I had my first child, I arrived at the hospital already 9 cm. dialated and delivered with no epidural. It was horrific.
17. When I had my second child, I arrived at the hospital before even my first contraction and got hooked up to the epidural right away. It was blissful.
18. I have a Bachelor's degree in Health Science Education, and I teach Reproductive Health (sex ed) part-time.
19. Right after college, I did outreach education for the health department in the ghettos of south Florida, where we walked the streets and taught prostitutes and drug addicts how to prevent STDs and HIV/AIDS. This sometimes included showing them how to use a condom.
20. I have a huge fear of rejection. I will avoid rejection at all cost, even if it means never going after something that is not a guarantee.
21. I have two recurring dreams - one is that I'm on a plane that crashes, and the other is that I show up for my final triginometry exam in college and because I never went to class all semester, I don't know the material and I fail. I wake up relieved that I did in fact graduate college... and I am deathly afraid of flying (although I fly all the time).
22. I have been to Disney World close to 100 times.
23. I have a passionate love affair with food. One of my favorite places to go on a date with my husband is the Melting Pot. I also love Thai food, Italian food, Mexican food, and... who am I kidding - ALL food. The only thing I won't eat is chicken livers.
24. I LOVE studying and teaching the Bible, and I have big dreams of writing books, speaking at conferences, and teaching God's word all over the country. But since I fear rejection and allow my insecurities to overwhelm me, I don't know how I'm going to make those dreams come true.
25. There are a lot of things I like about myself and a lot of things I don't like about myself. I am a work in progress, and I ask God to change me on a daily basis.
Wow, that wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. I think that once we start giving it some thought and peeling back the layers of our hearts, there is a lot more to us than we think. I desire to be a more transparent and genuine person who openly shares myself - good and bad - with others. It's not easy, but it's good.
Monday, January 16, 2012
My Strength and My Song
Today I stumbled upon a box under my bathroom sink that immediately gripped my heart. I had forgotten it was there, but when I was looking through the cabinet under my sink for lotion, I saw it; and it stopped me in my tracks. It was the pink "First Response" (pregnancy test) box that I bought back in December. It contained 3 pregnancy tests when I bought it, and all 3 tests - though now used - were still in it. Each time I took one and it came out positive, I put it back in the box under my sink.
I took all three of the tests this time, even though I only took one test with each of my previous two children. I don't know why I took all three this time - it was as if I didn't really believe it when I saw the two lines appear. I remember the excitement that came over me each time I took a test and saw the positive result. My heart leapt for joy with each one. I had wanted that baby so badly. It was going to be my third and final child, and after two boys, I was hoping for a girl. I had names picked out, a stroller pattern picked out, and even a few pieces of infant clothes hanging in my guest room closet. I was thrilled. I was so busy making preparations for a new baby and coming up with creative and clever ways to tell our family and friends, and I had just tucked those positive tests away in a box under my sink and forgotten about them.
About four weeks after I took those tests and found out the joyful news that I was going to be a mommy again, I got the news that my pregnancy was ectopic. That meant my 7 week-old fetus was growing and developing normally, but in my fallopian tube instead of my uterus. An ultrasound confirmed that it was in the wrong place, and it could not survive there. In fact, it had to be removed or I would likely not survive either. So an immediate surgery was scheduled to remove my baby from my body.
The next couple days were a blur. An overwhelming emotional roller coaster ride left me confused, sad, angry, lonely, and empty. One day I was pregnant, and the next day I wasn't. One day I was nauseous and symptomatic, and the next day nothing. One day my body was intact and healthy, and the next day I was wounded and scarred. One day I had a working fallopian tube, and the next day it was gone from my body. It was one of the strangest experiences I've ever gone through. My baby was forcefully taken from me when I desperately wanted to keep it.
I honestly didn't imagine that it would affect me so deeply. I've been pregnant two other times, both of which resulted in live healthy children. And I never imagined that losing a pregnancy would hurt much at all. I never "bonded" with my previous babies until they were actually born and I was holding them in my arms. So I just thought that a lost pregnancy would be little more than disappointing. I knew I would be sad, but I didn't realize the turbulence of other emotions it would bring. I felt everytihng - from less of a woman to grief stricken and barren.
Almost two weeks have passed since I lost my baby. And I've been steadily getting stronger and better. My wounds - physical and emotional - are healing. Scars remian where the inscisions in my belly once were, and scars also remian on my heart that once housed the love and excitement for a new little life. Over the past week, I've been able to smile and even laugh at times. I've been comforted by the unlimitted love of my husband and great friends, who have cared for me so much during this time. I've been showered with love and prayer, and I've had a delicious homemade meal brought to my door from loved ones every single day since the surgery. I am blessed. And overwhelmed by the love of others. My strength is returning, and the past few days have been the best ones yet. I've even had times where I almost felt completely normal again. Until I opened the cabinet and saw that box under the sink.
The flood of emotions quickly returned and sadness washed over me. Tears filled my eyes as I remembered the excitement and joy that was contained in that box that has since been ripped away from me. I cried for a moment. My husband held me. And then I brought myself to throw the box away. It was a brief moment, and then I was back to caring for my boys and going about my day. I'm sure those moments will come and go as times passes, and they will get easier and easier. The healing process will continue thanks to the Great Physicain who heals me from the inside out.
Moments before I stumbled upon that box under my sink, I stumbled upon this verse: Isaiah 2:12 ~ "The Lord is my salvation; I will trust and not be afraid. The Lord is my strength and my song."
God's timing is so perfect. Right before I was reminded of my pain, He reminded me that He is my strength and my song. He fills my heart with music and because of Him I can sing. He holds me up when I am weak, and He puts a song on my lips when I don't feel like singing. One of my favorite worship songs has always been the song by Third Day that says, "You are beautiful my sweet sweet song, and I will sing again."
He is my sweet song. And He is beautiful. And I will sing again.
I took all three of the tests this time, even though I only took one test with each of my previous two children. I don't know why I took all three this time - it was as if I didn't really believe it when I saw the two lines appear. I remember the excitement that came over me each time I took a test and saw the positive result. My heart leapt for joy with each one. I had wanted that baby so badly. It was going to be my third and final child, and after two boys, I was hoping for a girl. I had names picked out, a stroller pattern picked out, and even a few pieces of infant clothes hanging in my guest room closet. I was thrilled. I was so busy making preparations for a new baby and coming up with creative and clever ways to tell our family and friends, and I had just tucked those positive tests away in a box under my sink and forgotten about them.
About four weeks after I took those tests and found out the joyful news that I was going to be a mommy again, I got the news that my pregnancy was ectopic. That meant my 7 week-old fetus was growing and developing normally, but in my fallopian tube instead of my uterus. An ultrasound confirmed that it was in the wrong place, and it could not survive there. In fact, it had to be removed or I would likely not survive either. So an immediate surgery was scheduled to remove my baby from my body.
The next couple days were a blur. An overwhelming emotional roller coaster ride left me confused, sad, angry, lonely, and empty. One day I was pregnant, and the next day I wasn't. One day I was nauseous and symptomatic, and the next day nothing. One day my body was intact and healthy, and the next day I was wounded and scarred. One day I had a working fallopian tube, and the next day it was gone from my body. It was one of the strangest experiences I've ever gone through. My baby was forcefully taken from me when I desperately wanted to keep it.
I honestly didn't imagine that it would affect me so deeply. I've been pregnant two other times, both of which resulted in live healthy children. And I never imagined that losing a pregnancy would hurt much at all. I never "bonded" with my previous babies until they were actually born and I was holding them in my arms. So I just thought that a lost pregnancy would be little more than disappointing. I knew I would be sad, but I didn't realize the turbulence of other emotions it would bring. I felt everytihng - from less of a woman to grief stricken and barren.
Almost two weeks have passed since I lost my baby. And I've been steadily getting stronger and better. My wounds - physical and emotional - are healing. Scars remian where the inscisions in my belly once were, and scars also remian on my heart that once housed the love and excitement for a new little life. Over the past week, I've been able to smile and even laugh at times. I've been comforted by the unlimitted love of my husband and great friends, who have cared for me so much during this time. I've been showered with love and prayer, and I've had a delicious homemade meal brought to my door from loved ones every single day since the surgery. I am blessed. And overwhelmed by the love of others. My strength is returning, and the past few days have been the best ones yet. I've even had times where I almost felt completely normal again. Until I opened the cabinet and saw that box under the sink.
The flood of emotions quickly returned and sadness washed over me. Tears filled my eyes as I remembered the excitement and joy that was contained in that box that has since been ripped away from me. I cried for a moment. My husband held me. And then I brought myself to throw the box away. It was a brief moment, and then I was back to caring for my boys and going about my day. I'm sure those moments will come and go as times passes, and they will get easier and easier. The healing process will continue thanks to the Great Physicain who heals me from the inside out.
Moments before I stumbled upon that box under my sink, I stumbled upon this verse: Isaiah 2:12 ~ "The Lord is my salvation; I will trust and not be afraid. The Lord is my strength and my song."
God's timing is so perfect. Right before I was reminded of my pain, He reminded me that He is my strength and my song. He fills my heart with music and because of Him I can sing. He holds me up when I am weak, and He puts a song on my lips when I don't feel like singing. One of my favorite worship songs has always been the song by Third Day that says, "You are beautiful my sweet sweet song, and I will sing again."
He is my sweet song. And He is beautiful. And I will sing again.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
I'm Glad Jesus Isn't Santa
As parents, my husband and I decided when we had children that we were not going to teach our kids to believe in Santa Clause. It's not that we're against Santa... or people whose holiday does include him, but we just decided that was not a tradition we were going to follow in our home - for several reasons.
The main one was this: We were teaching our kids about Jesus, a supernatural being who is omicient (all-knowing), omnipresent (all places), and sees your heart. We didn't want to teach our kids about a fictional character with similar attributes (Santa)only to one day have to say. "just kidding, he isn't real"... but maintain that Jesus IS real. We thought that would be confusing, and we didn't want our kids to know us as parents who mislead them. We also wanted to keep the focus of Christmas on Jesus (the Savior who came to redeem the world) rather than on commercialism, getting stuff, and thinking of self. It was as simple as that. No big deal. Unlike some other people with strong religiious convictions, we don't bash Santa or call him evil. We just simply tell our kids that he is a fun, make-believe character like Mickey Mouse. A fictional character that represents the holiday, but is not real. My kids get it, and they are not the least bit deprived because of the lack of "magic" in our home. They know that their gifts come from people who love them, and they are greatful.
The other day I was riding in my car listening to Christmas music on the radio, and I heard "Santa Clause is Coming to Town". You know, the one about making a list and checking it twice - finding out who's naughty or nice. As those lyrics began to sink in, I found myself a little dismayed. Minutes later, I was at Barnes & Noble and saw a popular new book/toy called the "Elf on the Shelf". The stuffed elf acts as Santa's spy and sits in various locations in your home watching your kid's behavior, and then reports back to Santa so he'll know who to put on the 'naughty list' or the 'nice list'.
Then it struck me. I didn't like the song, and I didn't like the elf on the shelf, and I finally realized why. Santa opperates on a system that I (as a Christian) can't relate to. It's a "works-based" system, and it's foreign to me as a Jesus-follower. My entire faith is built around the idea of grace. Your works don't save you. Jesus doesn't weigh your good and your bad and decide what reward/punishment you get based on your behavior or your performance. He gives on a system of grace - we mess up all the time, don't earn or deserve any favor, but we get it anyway, because He loves us unconditonaly. That's the definition of grace - getting something you don't deserve. Not because of anything we have done, but because of the never-ending love and generosity of the Gift-Giver. That's the foundation of my faith. That is what I teach my children. And that is the culture in which I'm used to existing. That's why the whole Santa thing strikes me as "off". The works-based system of getting gifts because you behaved good enough, or getting overlooked because you didn't meet the mark goes against everything my faith represents, my Bible teaches, and my Savior proclaims. It's contrary to everything I teach my kids about Jesus. And quite honestly, I think it's even a little cruel. Can't we just teach our kids to be obedient and respectful without threatening to take away their Christmas? Shouldn't we expect good behavior from them simply because it's what we value as a family, and it's necessary for success in the world? And shouldn't we bestow gifts on them at Christmas simply because we love them and we're thankful for God's blessings?
I'm glad Jesus isn't Santa. I'm thankful that my Savior doesn't weigh my good and bad deeds and gift me accordingly. I'd have a lot of scarce Christmases. I'm so thankful for the unconditional grace of my Savior, that gifts me with forgiveness of my sins and eternal life - not because I earned it, but because of His endless love. Yep, I'm sure glad Jesus isn't Santa. Merry Christmas!
The main one was this: We were teaching our kids about Jesus, a supernatural being who is omicient (all-knowing), omnipresent (all places), and sees your heart. We didn't want to teach our kids about a fictional character with similar attributes (Santa)only to one day have to say. "just kidding, he isn't real"... but maintain that Jesus IS real. We thought that would be confusing, and we didn't want our kids to know us as parents who mislead them. We also wanted to keep the focus of Christmas on Jesus (the Savior who came to redeem the world) rather than on commercialism, getting stuff, and thinking of self. It was as simple as that. No big deal. Unlike some other people with strong religiious convictions, we don't bash Santa or call him evil. We just simply tell our kids that he is a fun, make-believe character like Mickey Mouse. A fictional character that represents the holiday, but is not real. My kids get it, and they are not the least bit deprived because of the lack of "magic" in our home. They know that their gifts come from people who love them, and they are greatful.
The other day I was riding in my car listening to Christmas music on the radio, and I heard "Santa Clause is Coming to Town". You know, the one about making a list and checking it twice - finding out who's naughty or nice. As those lyrics began to sink in, I found myself a little dismayed. Minutes later, I was at Barnes & Noble and saw a popular new book/toy called the "Elf on the Shelf". The stuffed elf acts as Santa's spy and sits in various locations in your home watching your kid's behavior, and then reports back to Santa so he'll know who to put on the 'naughty list' or the 'nice list'.
Then it struck me. I didn't like the song, and I didn't like the elf on the shelf, and I finally realized why. Santa opperates on a system that I (as a Christian) can't relate to. It's a "works-based" system, and it's foreign to me as a Jesus-follower. My entire faith is built around the idea of grace. Your works don't save you. Jesus doesn't weigh your good and your bad and decide what reward/punishment you get based on your behavior or your performance. He gives on a system of grace - we mess up all the time, don't earn or deserve any favor, but we get it anyway, because He loves us unconditonaly. That's the definition of grace - getting something you don't deserve. Not because of anything we have done, but because of the never-ending love and generosity of the Gift-Giver. That's the foundation of my faith. That is what I teach my children. And that is the culture in which I'm used to existing. That's why the whole Santa thing strikes me as "off". The works-based system of getting gifts because you behaved good enough, or getting overlooked because you didn't meet the mark goes against everything my faith represents, my Bible teaches, and my Savior proclaims. It's contrary to everything I teach my kids about Jesus. And quite honestly, I think it's even a little cruel. Can't we just teach our kids to be obedient and respectful without threatening to take away their Christmas? Shouldn't we expect good behavior from them simply because it's what we value as a family, and it's necessary for success in the world? And shouldn't we bestow gifts on them at Christmas simply because we love them and we're thankful for God's blessings?
I'm glad Jesus isn't Santa. I'm thankful that my Savior doesn't weigh my good and bad deeds and gift me accordingly. I'd have a lot of scarce Christmases. I'm so thankful for the unconditional grace of my Savior, that gifts me with forgiveness of my sins and eternal life - not because I earned it, but because of His endless love. Yep, I'm sure glad Jesus isn't Santa. Merry Christmas!
Sunday, August 21, 2011
It's Bigger Than Breasts
I gotcha with that title, didn't I? Some of you clicked on this link just because you saw the word breasts and you were curious about where I was going with this one. Well good, I'm glad I have your attention.
I saw one of the dumbest things I've ever seen today in downtown Asheville, and my initial anger turned to sadness and pitty as I realized what was really going on. A group of women decided to stage a protest this afternoon in the middle of downtown - topless. That's right, you heard me correctly. They were topless - as in no shirts, breasts exposed, nude from the waist up. What on earth were they protesting you ask? They were demanding the right to be topless in public. They are tired of the double standard that allows men to walk the streets with their chests uncovered while women are forced to cover up. They want equality. They want the same rights men have to bare their chests.
I'm sure you're laughing as hard as I was when I first learned of this ludacricy. And I'm sure you're also thinking "only in Asheville"... But it was actually part of a national protest that was taking place in many cities all over the country. The reason we find it so humorous is because they seem to be overlooking the obvious. "Are they serious?" I asked myself as I pondered the statement they were making. "Do they really not understand the difference between a male chest and a female chest?" Why do they seem to be missing something that's incredibly obvious to most of us? The fact is, men and women's chests are different. They look different; they function differently; and they produce very different physical and emotional responses in those who view them. It didn't seem like rocket science to me, so why was it so hard for them to accept - men and women are DIFFERENT.
But this particular group of women did not want to be treated as if they were any different than men. They wanted to pretend that men and women are exactly the same, therefore leaving them no room to feel inferior or less than equal. But just because they ignore the truth, doesn't make that truth any less true. I (unlike them) understand that different doesn't mean unequal, and equal doesn't mean the same. We can be different AND equal at the same time. But this issue was actually bigger than just breasts - There was a deeper issue at play that went beyond the desire to walk around topless. Underneath these ladies' outer facade calling out for "equality" was an insecurity and a dissatisfaction that caused them to not be content with who God designed and created them to be. They claimed that they were being treated as substandard, but really they simply cannot accept and embrace the design and role that God created uniquely for them. And that's what made me sad.
I wished that these women could celebrate their differences rather than resent them. I wished that they could see the beauty in the hand-crafted design of our Creator that would cause them to glory in their uniqueness rather than wish that they were made in someone else's image. I wanted so badly to tell them that we can be equal in value while being different in appearence and even function. All we have to do is look at God Himself to see this truth illustrated. God exists in the form of the Trinity - three distinct persons equal in value, but very different in form and function. The Father, Jesus, and the Spirit all look different and perform unique roles, but I can't imagine the Holy Spirit protesting that he doesn't get to walk the streets in fleshly human form and therefore isn't being treated fairly.
There's no way around it. Women have breasts, and men don't. Women have a unique ability to feed a child with the pure milk of her own body, and men cannot. As a result, their chests look different. And because breasts have a uniquely feminine role (having to do with reproduction), they are viewed by men as desireable, pleasurable, and sexual. That is why women cover them in public. That is why they are usually reserved for the one who partners with them in the sexual and reproductive process (and their babies of course). This protest seemed as silly to me as a gorup of men protesting their right to feed their babies with their own bodies like women can, and feeling unequal because of that inability. They could protest all day long, but it wouldn't change the fact that if they tried to feed their baby on their nipple, the baby would die of starvation.
It's time for us (especially women) to start embracing the way God specifically designed our bodies, our minds, and our hearts, and realizing that they are different from men's for a reason - a divine purpose. If we would only put our whole hearts into becomming the woman God designed us to be instead of trying to become more like men, I believe we would find so much fulfillment and satisfaction. Because after all, He knows us better than we know ourselves. And He created us to fulfill a purpose that only we can. The Bible says it this way: "We are His masterpiece. He has created us in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things He planned for us long ago" (Ephesians 2:10 NLT). The word for 'masterpiece' in the original Greek language of the Bible is "poema", which is where we get our English word for poem. God's literally saying that we are His work of art. We each have a unique and wonderful role to play in this life, and I happen to love the role I play as a lover to my husband and mommy to my children. I enjoy being the steward of a man's vision and a leaver of a legacy to the next generations through my boys. That is who God designed me to be. I understand that not every woman will have the exact same roles and desires that I have, but don't be afraid to be who God uniquely made you to be without feeling inferior to someone else. Just be the best "you" that you can be, and don't wish that God had other things in mind when He knitted you together in your mother's womb.
Those of us who are in Christ sometimes struggle with a similar identity crisis. We may not mind being uniquely male and female (and I doubt any of us want to roam the streets baring our breasts), but we sometimes envy the roles and positons of other members of the Body - especially those who are more recognized and glamorous. Romans 12:4-6 reminds us that, "Just as our bodies have many parts, and each part has a special function, so it is with Christ's body. We are many parts of one body and we all belong to each other. In His grace, God has given us certain gifts for doing certain things well." The foot shouldn't want to be the hand, and the hand shouldn't want to be the eye. We should simply desire to be nothing more and nothing less than who God designed us to be. It's when we strive to be anything else, that we find ourselves beating our heads against the wall in frustration, becoming increasingly unfilfilled in our service to Christ. We become weary and burned out, eventually giving up.
For years I struggled to "find myself". I grew up never being quite sure of who I was, or who I wanted to be. I was uncomfortable in my own skin. I never had any female role models who actually loved and embraced womanhood with elegance and grace. I was taught to buck against the system that told girls to stay home raising babies, serving in charities, and cooking for their men. I was caught in the middle of an inner struggle between growing into the woman God created me to be and running in the other direction. I didn't relate well with girls, and consequently didn't have many deep friendships with females. To this day I am afraid to raise a daughter because of that long season of discomfort in my female relationships (thankfully God in His infinate wisdom gave me boys!). I was being told I shouldn't be too "girlie", but there was something deep in the fiber of my being that loved the idea of being a picture of femeninity. It wasn't until I fully surrendered my life to Christ in my early twenties that I began to let Him mold and shape my heart in His hands. He cultivated deep desires within me to be every bit of the wife, mommy, sister, daughter, and girlfriend He created me to be. He surrounded me with strong, beautiful, godly women who taught me the immense value in being such a woman. Ironically, today I lead a women's ministry and devote much of my time to teaching, mentoring, and counseling women to fit comfortably in the roles God has chosen for them. I love my ministry, and I love the women I am privileged to serve. It amazes me what God can do to our hearts when we stop looking elsewhere and start embracing and surremdering to His grand design. I am finally right where I am supoosed to be, and I've never been more satisfied in life.
It is right in the middle of His purpose that we find our deepest fulfillment in life. When you find that sweet spot right at the intersection of who God designed you to be and using your gifts to further His Kingdom - stay there.
I saw one of the dumbest things I've ever seen today in downtown Asheville, and my initial anger turned to sadness and pitty as I realized what was really going on. A group of women decided to stage a protest this afternoon in the middle of downtown - topless. That's right, you heard me correctly. They were topless - as in no shirts, breasts exposed, nude from the waist up. What on earth were they protesting you ask? They were demanding the right to be topless in public. They are tired of the double standard that allows men to walk the streets with their chests uncovered while women are forced to cover up. They want equality. They want the same rights men have to bare their chests.
I'm sure you're laughing as hard as I was when I first learned of this ludacricy. And I'm sure you're also thinking "only in Asheville"... But it was actually part of a national protest that was taking place in many cities all over the country. The reason we find it so humorous is because they seem to be overlooking the obvious. "Are they serious?" I asked myself as I pondered the statement they were making. "Do they really not understand the difference between a male chest and a female chest?" Why do they seem to be missing something that's incredibly obvious to most of us? The fact is, men and women's chests are different. They look different; they function differently; and they produce very different physical and emotional responses in those who view them. It didn't seem like rocket science to me, so why was it so hard for them to accept - men and women are DIFFERENT.
But this particular group of women did not want to be treated as if they were any different than men. They wanted to pretend that men and women are exactly the same, therefore leaving them no room to feel inferior or less than equal. But just because they ignore the truth, doesn't make that truth any less true. I (unlike them) understand that different doesn't mean unequal, and equal doesn't mean the same. We can be different AND equal at the same time. But this issue was actually bigger than just breasts - There was a deeper issue at play that went beyond the desire to walk around topless. Underneath these ladies' outer facade calling out for "equality" was an insecurity and a dissatisfaction that caused them to not be content with who God designed and created them to be. They claimed that they were being treated as substandard, but really they simply cannot accept and embrace the design and role that God created uniquely for them. And that's what made me sad.
I wished that these women could celebrate their differences rather than resent them. I wished that they could see the beauty in the hand-crafted design of our Creator that would cause them to glory in their uniqueness rather than wish that they were made in someone else's image. I wanted so badly to tell them that we can be equal in value while being different in appearence and even function. All we have to do is look at God Himself to see this truth illustrated. God exists in the form of the Trinity - three distinct persons equal in value, but very different in form and function. The Father, Jesus, and the Spirit all look different and perform unique roles, but I can't imagine the Holy Spirit protesting that he doesn't get to walk the streets in fleshly human form and therefore isn't being treated fairly.
There's no way around it. Women have breasts, and men don't. Women have a unique ability to feed a child with the pure milk of her own body, and men cannot. As a result, their chests look different. And because breasts have a uniquely feminine role (having to do with reproduction), they are viewed by men as desireable, pleasurable, and sexual. That is why women cover them in public. That is why they are usually reserved for the one who partners with them in the sexual and reproductive process (and their babies of course). This protest seemed as silly to me as a gorup of men protesting their right to feed their babies with their own bodies like women can, and feeling unequal because of that inability. They could protest all day long, but it wouldn't change the fact that if they tried to feed their baby on their nipple, the baby would die of starvation.
It's time for us (especially women) to start embracing the way God specifically designed our bodies, our minds, and our hearts, and realizing that they are different from men's for a reason - a divine purpose. If we would only put our whole hearts into becomming the woman God designed us to be instead of trying to become more like men, I believe we would find so much fulfillment and satisfaction. Because after all, He knows us better than we know ourselves. And He created us to fulfill a purpose that only we can. The Bible says it this way: "We are His masterpiece. He has created us in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things He planned for us long ago" (Ephesians 2:10 NLT). The word for 'masterpiece' in the original Greek language of the Bible is "poema", which is where we get our English word for poem. God's literally saying that we are His work of art. We each have a unique and wonderful role to play in this life, and I happen to love the role I play as a lover to my husband and mommy to my children. I enjoy being the steward of a man's vision and a leaver of a legacy to the next generations through my boys. That is who God designed me to be. I understand that not every woman will have the exact same roles and desires that I have, but don't be afraid to be who God uniquely made you to be without feeling inferior to someone else. Just be the best "you" that you can be, and don't wish that God had other things in mind when He knitted you together in your mother's womb.
Those of us who are in Christ sometimes struggle with a similar identity crisis. We may not mind being uniquely male and female (and I doubt any of us want to roam the streets baring our breasts), but we sometimes envy the roles and positons of other members of the Body - especially those who are more recognized and glamorous. Romans 12:4-6 reminds us that, "Just as our bodies have many parts, and each part has a special function, so it is with Christ's body. We are many parts of one body and we all belong to each other. In His grace, God has given us certain gifts for doing certain things well." The foot shouldn't want to be the hand, and the hand shouldn't want to be the eye. We should simply desire to be nothing more and nothing less than who God designed us to be. It's when we strive to be anything else, that we find ourselves beating our heads against the wall in frustration, becoming increasingly unfilfilled in our service to Christ. We become weary and burned out, eventually giving up.
For years I struggled to "find myself". I grew up never being quite sure of who I was, or who I wanted to be. I was uncomfortable in my own skin. I never had any female role models who actually loved and embraced womanhood with elegance and grace. I was taught to buck against the system that told girls to stay home raising babies, serving in charities, and cooking for their men. I was caught in the middle of an inner struggle between growing into the woman God created me to be and running in the other direction. I didn't relate well with girls, and consequently didn't have many deep friendships with females. To this day I am afraid to raise a daughter because of that long season of discomfort in my female relationships (thankfully God in His infinate wisdom gave me boys!). I was being told I shouldn't be too "girlie", but there was something deep in the fiber of my being that loved the idea of being a picture of femeninity. It wasn't until I fully surrendered my life to Christ in my early twenties that I began to let Him mold and shape my heart in His hands. He cultivated deep desires within me to be every bit of the wife, mommy, sister, daughter, and girlfriend He created me to be. He surrounded me with strong, beautiful, godly women who taught me the immense value in being such a woman. Ironically, today I lead a women's ministry and devote much of my time to teaching, mentoring, and counseling women to fit comfortably in the roles God has chosen for them. I love my ministry, and I love the women I am privileged to serve. It amazes me what God can do to our hearts when we stop looking elsewhere and start embracing and surremdering to His grand design. I am finally right where I am supoosed to be, and I've never been more satisfied in life.
It is right in the middle of His purpose that we find our deepest fulfillment in life. When you find that sweet spot right at the intersection of who God designed you to be and using your gifts to further His Kingdom - stay there.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Country Club Christianity
Let's play a game called "Where Am I?" (And I'm going to warn you up front that there may be hints of sarcasm throughout this blog entry... but it's not because I mean to offend anyone - it's that when I'm passionate about something I tend to lose control a little. I'm working on that.)
So here's how we play the game: I describe a place to you, and you guess where I am. Easy? Ok, good, here we go. I'm walking into a polished white building. There on the announcement board in front of me is a notice about the monthly ladies gathering for crafts. Then below that is another announcement for the upcoming men's biking trip. A calendar is also hanging on the wall that schedules the regular pot-lucks and "Community BBQ/Pic-nics". There's an aerobics class on Tuesday mornings, and childcare on Fridays for "Mother's Morning Out". A baby shower is being planned for Susie, and I can sign up to bring a lunch item if I wish. As I walk a little further I see a board with the names of perspective members listed along with their pictures. And the new member directories are out on the table for anyone to take. I walk into the ladies bathroom and hear a few girls chatting quietly about how they heard that Janie's husband cheated on her and has moved out of the house. As I leave, I put my name on the sign-up sheet for the ladies craft event and I jot down the name of the person I need to call to sign up to volunteer for next week's river clean up.
Where am I? Well, someone might say, "Oh I know... that's my local country club." Another might say, "No, no, I know where she is... it's my local church." Which one is it? My heart breaks at the thought that, for some, it may actually be hard to differentiate between the two. I'm not trying to pick on anyone's particular church here, but I do think we need to take a serious look at our mission as church-goers and evaluate how that mission is being carried out. And if we can't tell the difference between a church and a country club, then something has gone astray since the first church began back in the day of Acts.
I want to say that I've been to many excellent churches that don't look anything like this example I gave, and I am impressed by the growing number of ministries that are right on target with the true mission of Jesus for His church. However, I've also seen some that sadly look more like an exclusive social club than anything Jesus ever implemented. Why is that? How did we get so off track that we got the idea that church is supposed to be a place for meeting social needs and learning how to knit? I run the risk of offending with my sarcasm here, but I just can't imagine the early church - or the church Jesus went to - having a craft night for ladies. Is that what some people's Christianity has been reduced to? I just can't help but wonder how the point is being missed.
In some countries, Christianity is illegal and people cannot worship God freely and openly without fear of persecution or death. They go to underground churches and risk their lives to open a Bible and tell others about the saving grace of Christ. As those Christians sneak into dark apartments to meet in secret to pray and read their Bibles by candlelight, I just can't imagine them breaking out the crafts or enjoying a game of Bingo. They have serious work to do, and they can't afford to waste any time on frivolous social gatherings.
I'm not suggesting that we can't have fun and be social at church, or that every time we get together it has to be all serious work and no play. The fact is, we are free to worship and we don't face persecution, so we don't have to act like we do. But let's not take that so for granted that we neglect to do God's business either. Church is a family - after all, we're brothers and sisters in Christ. And we all have an automatic bond based on that truth. It's perfectly fine to enjoy that bond by having fun together - I've had some of the best times of my life hanging out with my church family. But we can't get so focused on ourselves that we forget what we're there to do. We have a mission, and Jesus should be the forefront of everything we do. He should always be the reason we gather. If we're not making disciples - either by growing in discipleship ourselves or contributing to the discipleship of someone else - we shouldn't call it church.
If the ladies are going to gather every month - great. But open a Bible and talk about God's plan for being a godly wife, mother, sister, daughter, friend, employee, etc. Spend some time praying for one another's burdens and strengthening/encouraging one another as you run the race together. Then others can look on at your life and your character and hunger for what you have, which is the spirit of the living God dwelling within you. You learn to live out the gospel by wearing it as a display for the world to notice. My life was changed on a women's retreat (vacation) with my church when I was in my early 20s. That was because we spent just as much time (or more) as we did lounging on the beach, intensely studying God's word, learning from the experience of other wise women, worshiping without distraction, and evoking the power of the Holy Spirit through prayer and laying on hands. There was shopping, and tanning, and it was a lot of fun. But more discipleship happened than anything else. Jesus was the focus, and my life is different today because of it.
I remember when I worked at my church years ago, someone called the church to see if we offered aerobics classes. I thought, "Oh you're looking for the gym - this is a church." It seemed silly to me that anyone would expect the church to be the gym. I know of another church who does have a work-out class for women, but they spend half the time in Bible study (building their spirit) and half the time working out (building their physical bodies). After all, the Bible does say, "Bodily exercise profits a little, but godliness is profitable for all things, holding promise for both the present life AND the life to come" (1 Timothy 4:8). I think the Bible makes the point that the things that benefit us in this life are fine, but not nearly as important as those which benefit us eternally.
So if you want to do crafts or go camping, great. Go and have a blast. But don't call it church. Call it what it is - hanging out with friends. And make church look less like a country club and more like what Jesus built His church to be: a hospital for the hurting, a refuge for the outcast, a school for those hungry for wisdom, a house of prayer for those needing healing, a place of counsel for the sinner, a temple for those who want to worship with their whole hearts, and a place of love for the unlovable. A place where the Spirit of God leads in everything that is done there. A place where disciples are made. A place where life transformation is the main event. In our society, we don't suffer from too little time to socialize. We suffer from too little time to worship. So why do we go to church to do more socializing and less worshipping? It's time we get back on track. Time is short, and we have a mission before us: "Go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit; teaching them to obey all that I have commanded you" (Matthew 28:19).
If I've offended you with my sarcasm, I am sincerely sorry to have hurt you. But the Bible (and Jesus) is an equal-opportunity offender. At some point, everyone who reads it will have their toes stepped on a little. And that's a good thing. I hope my passionate exhortation of truth has pushed you a little further out of your comfort zone, and you respond by evaluating your current mission as a Christian. I am passionate about the things of God, and for that I do not apologize. Now let's go and get some work done!
So here's how we play the game: I describe a place to you, and you guess where I am. Easy? Ok, good, here we go. I'm walking into a polished white building. There on the announcement board in front of me is a notice about the monthly ladies gathering for crafts. Then below that is another announcement for the upcoming men's biking trip. A calendar is also hanging on the wall that schedules the regular pot-lucks and "Community BBQ/Pic-nics". There's an aerobics class on Tuesday mornings, and childcare on Fridays for "Mother's Morning Out". A baby shower is being planned for Susie, and I can sign up to bring a lunch item if I wish. As I walk a little further I see a board with the names of perspective members listed along with their pictures. And the new member directories are out on the table for anyone to take. I walk into the ladies bathroom and hear a few girls chatting quietly about how they heard that Janie's husband cheated on her and has moved out of the house. As I leave, I put my name on the sign-up sheet for the ladies craft event and I jot down the name of the person I need to call to sign up to volunteer for next week's river clean up.
Where am I? Well, someone might say, "Oh I know... that's my local country club." Another might say, "No, no, I know where she is... it's my local church." Which one is it? My heart breaks at the thought that, for some, it may actually be hard to differentiate between the two. I'm not trying to pick on anyone's particular church here, but I do think we need to take a serious look at our mission as church-goers and evaluate how that mission is being carried out. And if we can't tell the difference between a church and a country club, then something has gone astray since the first church began back in the day of Acts.
I want to say that I've been to many excellent churches that don't look anything like this example I gave, and I am impressed by the growing number of ministries that are right on target with the true mission of Jesus for His church. However, I've also seen some that sadly look more like an exclusive social club than anything Jesus ever implemented. Why is that? How did we get so off track that we got the idea that church is supposed to be a place for meeting social needs and learning how to knit? I run the risk of offending with my sarcasm here, but I just can't imagine the early church - or the church Jesus went to - having a craft night for ladies. Is that what some people's Christianity has been reduced to? I just can't help but wonder how the point is being missed.
In some countries, Christianity is illegal and people cannot worship God freely and openly without fear of persecution or death. They go to underground churches and risk their lives to open a Bible and tell others about the saving grace of Christ. As those Christians sneak into dark apartments to meet in secret to pray and read their Bibles by candlelight, I just can't imagine them breaking out the crafts or enjoying a game of Bingo. They have serious work to do, and they can't afford to waste any time on frivolous social gatherings.
I'm not suggesting that we can't have fun and be social at church, or that every time we get together it has to be all serious work and no play. The fact is, we are free to worship and we don't face persecution, so we don't have to act like we do. But let's not take that so for granted that we neglect to do God's business either. Church is a family - after all, we're brothers and sisters in Christ. And we all have an automatic bond based on that truth. It's perfectly fine to enjoy that bond by having fun together - I've had some of the best times of my life hanging out with my church family. But we can't get so focused on ourselves that we forget what we're there to do. We have a mission, and Jesus should be the forefront of everything we do. He should always be the reason we gather. If we're not making disciples - either by growing in discipleship ourselves or contributing to the discipleship of someone else - we shouldn't call it church.
If the ladies are going to gather every month - great. But open a Bible and talk about God's plan for being a godly wife, mother, sister, daughter, friend, employee, etc. Spend some time praying for one another's burdens and strengthening/encouraging one another as you run the race together. Then others can look on at your life and your character and hunger for what you have, which is the spirit of the living God dwelling within you. You learn to live out the gospel by wearing it as a display for the world to notice. My life was changed on a women's retreat (vacation) with my church when I was in my early 20s. That was because we spent just as much time (or more) as we did lounging on the beach, intensely studying God's word, learning from the experience of other wise women, worshiping without distraction, and evoking the power of the Holy Spirit through prayer and laying on hands. There was shopping, and tanning, and it was a lot of fun. But more discipleship happened than anything else. Jesus was the focus, and my life is different today because of it.
I remember when I worked at my church years ago, someone called the church to see if we offered aerobics classes. I thought, "Oh you're looking for the gym - this is a church." It seemed silly to me that anyone would expect the church to be the gym. I know of another church who does have a work-out class for women, but they spend half the time in Bible study (building their spirit) and half the time working out (building their physical bodies). After all, the Bible does say, "Bodily exercise profits a little, but godliness is profitable for all things, holding promise for both the present life AND the life to come" (1 Timothy 4:8). I think the Bible makes the point that the things that benefit us in this life are fine, but not nearly as important as those which benefit us eternally.
So if you want to do crafts or go camping, great. Go and have a blast. But don't call it church. Call it what it is - hanging out with friends. And make church look less like a country club and more like what Jesus built His church to be: a hospital for the hurting, a refuge for the outcast, a school for those hungry for wisdom, a house of prayer for those needing healing, a place of counsel for the sinner, a temple for those who want to worship with their whole hearts, and a place of love for the unlovable. A place where the Spirit of God leads in everything that is done there. A place where disciples are made. A place where life transformation is the main event. In our society, we don't suffer from too little time to socialize. We suffer from too little time to worship. So why do we go to church to do more socializing and less worshipping? It's time we get back on track. Time is short, and we have a mission before us: "Go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit; teaching them to obey all that I have commanded you" (Matthew 28:19).
If I've offended you with my sarcasm, I am sincerely sorry to have hurt you. But the Bible (and Jesus) is an equal-opportunity offender. At some point, everyone who reads it will have their toes stepped on a little. And that's a good thing. I hope my passionate exhortation of truth has pushed you a little further out of your comfort zone, and you respond by evaluating your current mission as a Christian. I am passionate about the things of God, and for that I do not apologize. Now let's go and get some work done!
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