caught in the storm

I recently listened to a lecture that was dated two years ago at RTS given by Dr. Harold O.J. Brown to his Pastoral and Social Ethics class entitled Racial Prejudice.  You can find this lecture on iTunes U if you wish to listen to it in correspondence with this post.  I will try my best to summarize the points I’m making in this points.
Before I begin, allow me put a few things out there, because I come at this lecture with a bias, many biases for that matter.  I am bi-racial.  My mom is Caucasian and my dad was a third generation Mexican American.  The majority of my formative years were spent in a predominately white town where the only person of color I knew was my dad.  Since then I’ve come to term with what it means to be bi-racial if only because of the force of others pointing out that I did not belong.  My background with racial prejudice comes from the idea that I am the other, to everyone.
Enter in Dr. Brown’s lecture.  There were a few points in Dr. Brown’s lecture that I resonated with, but predominately there were points that made me shake my head, a couple of times checking the date of the lecture in disbelief.
Dr. Brown rightly denounced the practice of Scientific Racism (think Nazi Germany or The Bell Curve), pointing out that it is unbiblical to believe that some races are superior to others.  He did this on the premise that we are all created in God’s image, and if that is true than all races must be made equal for we are all made in the image of God.  This biblical principle was the foundation of most of his lecture, which I resonate with.  Biblically speaking, racism shouldn’t exist because it has no roots in the Word.
This is where Dr. Brown and I start down differing paths within the racial discussion in the Church and in America. Instead of going point by point through the lecture, there were two main arguments that I want to flush out a little here.
Dr. Brown states that Christians have a fairly good record in racism, the evidence being in the fact that we strive to convert everyone.  He goes on to say that as Christians we should feel good about how we have handled racism, in comparison to the rest of the world that is.  He goes on to say that we could do better by God’s standards but that we should be proud that we are at least better than the rest of the world.
Secondly, Dr. Brown closes his lecture with the statement that Christians are not biblically required to take part in civil action.  He shows scripture to be about the people, the families and individuals and that we should leave the civil action to the government.
This is where I whole heartedly disagree with Dr. Brown.  I’ve heard it quoted that the Church is the most segregated institution within the US.  Sunday mornings come and we flood to churches with people that look like us, act like us, have similar histories as we do.  This may not be outright racism, but it is definitely a marker of a racist environment that we were raised in.
Racism is a big issue to tackle.  It is a multi-faceted issue.  It takes place on a personal level, a structural level, an institutional level and so many other levels.  The closer we look at our own trends and biases, the more we see the ugly face of racism.  In our schools, our government, our churches and- heaven forbid- our families.
All this to say, how can we as Christians not take civil action seriously?  How can we sit aside and allow institutional racism continue to oppress people?  People who were created in the image of God just like each of us were?
For us to stay silent is for us to go against the very nature of why Jesus came to the earth (Luke 4).  We are called to care for the orphan, the widow, the poor and more times than not that care looks like trying to break the cycles that made them orphans and widows…
Thoughts?

lead me to the cross

Most of you know that our church is currently in the book of Exodus.  We’ve been there all year, we will continue through the rest of this year.  Some of you also know that as a staff we spend time dwelling in the Word together each week.  This is a story about both of those facts.
Last week we were dwelling in Exodus 15:22-27.  One of the questions posed to us was “What sparks your imagination? or What grabs your attention?”  My answer was found simply at the end of verse 26 when God makes a promise to the Israelites and then says, “For I am the Lord who heals you.”
After we had discussed the text there was a moment where one of the guys said, “Exodus is all about God revealing who he is to the Israelites, we are learning about his character.”
The beautify in these simple words – For I am the Lord who heals you.- is the fact that it’s one of the first moments where we see this side of our Lord.  The New Testament is filled with this imagery but in the Old Testament we see a more conquering God, especially within the Exodus story.  We see the God that sends the plagues and proves his might and his power.  The Lord over all the earth and everyone in it.
But the softer side comes out in this little end of a verse.  The Lord who not only conquers our enemies and provides food for us, but Chooses to heal us.
Restores us.
Picks us up, dusts us off and places our feet on solid ground.
In a world of brokenness and wounded hearts, I choose the God who identifies himself as the One who Heals.
 

this is not the end of this – we will open our eyes

By now most of you have probably heard about the tragedy in Newtown, CT.  By now most of you have probably caught up on the news, heard from the President.  By now most of you have probably read tweets, posts, status updates, etc with ranging emotions.  Times like this bring about a lot of confusion, anger, sadness and heartbreak. It also brings about a lot of debate, healthy and at times unhealthy debate on politics, rights and privileges of living in a free society.
This is not a post about that.
I’m truly saddened by this tragedy.  Saddened for the families of all involved, for children whose lives are forever altered and for whom school is no longer a safe place of learning.  For parents who have the unthinkable task of burying their children.  For children who have the unthinkable task of burying their parents.  For the loved ones of the shooter who are now mourning several members of their family and asking the questions of why.  For a community now forever changed and defined by this day.
I can’t scoff at the timing of my parables final and that while I was listening to the reports I was also reading about the Parable of the Wheat and the Tares found in Matthew 13.  I was reading how the significant question being addressed in this parable by our Lord and Savior is “How can this be the Kingdom (of God) if evil is still present?”
Or in other words: Why does God let bad things happen to good people?
Jesus addresses this question with this parable:  The Kingdom has become like a farmer who has planted good seed in his field.  But that night as the workers slept, the enemy came and planted weeds among the the wheat, then slipped away.  When the crop began to grow and produce grain, the weeds also grew.  The farmer’s workers went to him and said, ‘Sir, the field where you planted that good seed is full of weeds! Where did they come from?’ ‘an Enemy has done this!’ the farmer exclaimed.  “Should we pull out the weeds?” they asked. “No,” he replied, “you’ll uproot the wheat if you do.  Let both grow together until the harvest.  Then I will tell the harvesters to sort out the weeds, tie them into bundles and burn them and to put the wheat in the barn.”
Later his followers ask for an explanation and Jesus says that the field is the world, the farmer is the Son of Man, the good seed is the people of the kingdom and the weeds are the people who belong to the evil one.  The harvest is the end of the world and the harvesters are the angels.
At the end of the world the Son of Man will send his angels to remove all the evil from his Kingdom.
But this is not the end.  We’re still living in the Kingdom among the presence of evil.  Jesus assures us through his ministry and the presence of the Holy Spirit that the Kingdom is present in the world today ad he also assures us that evil is present in the world today, as seen by days like today.
This parable speaks nothing of retaliation or even what we should do about evil.  He only assures us that he is present and that one day there will be judgment.  The greek in the parable specifically says, “The Kingdom has become like”.  This passive verb form is Jesus’ way of assuring us that this was not what the Kingdom was meant for, it has become this way.  Our world has become this way.  Evil has come and dwells among us and for whatever reason the time for judgment hasn’t come yet.  But we are assured that it will come.
Until then we cling to the presence of our Lord and remind ourselves that this is not the end.

if you lose the words just carry the tune

I’ve been working at churches for almost 6 years now, really 8 if you include those years in college.  And there are still a few things that get me every time I experience them.  They aren’t abnormal experiences when you’re within a church body, in fact I’ve had then happen to or around me probably 100 times, but still – they blow my mind every time.  Every.  Time.
A couple of them happened to me today which once again, made me blessed to be in this place at this time.
First up – when the church body rallies around an individual or a family in prayer.  We have a family in our church who has had a bit of a rough season.  The husband has been in need of a kidney transplant and this week his wife is going to be his donor.  It’s an incredible story and as a church we have been praying them through this difficult time of waiting for answers.  The surgery is this Wednesday so this morning at church, we gathered around this family to pray.  It was such an amazing display of faithfulness of a community.  I know it’s not unexpected in a church but it’s something that our church does so well, we know how to care for our people.
Secondly, the moment when we go from people who worship side by side to people who worship together.  There’s a couple in our church who have been attending for quite some time, they recently became members and they are even in my small group.  This morning, in the midst of the usual weekly chatter after service, talking through our past weeks, our upcoming weeks, even the upcoming small group Christmas party, there was a shift in the conversation.  It was really subtle, but the shift was there.  It was like talking with old friends, we were joking in that comfortable fashion.  This couple has become a part of my community, I look forward to seeing them each week and hearing about what’s really going on in their lives.  We worship together rather than simultaneously, our friendship bringing glory to God.
Another evidence of this was in another conversation with some newer attenders.  I had mentioned that I had been praying for this woman over the week because as a member of the staff I had gotten her prayer request the past week.  Later in the conversation I had mentioned that my finals were coming up this week.  This same woman placed her hand on my shoulder and said, “Now I know what I’ll be praying for you this week.”  Her warm smile lit her whole face up and I was so blessed in that moment.
This third moment that blows my mind is the moment when someone (family or individual) goes from visitor to attendee.  Most of the time it’s a subtle shift, but today it came as a (shocked) statement from a dad.  We had the opportunity for child sponsor ship through Covenant Kids Congo and while I was manning the table, a newish family approached.  Through the conversation the daughter, a 7th grader, was telling me how she wanted to be a missionary some day and how excited she was to sponsor a child.  Her dad kind of shook his head and mentioned, “We’re going to end up going here aren’t we?” to his daughter.  I then got to hear some of their story about church, but that’s not the point.  In having this conversation with me and his daughter I could see it dawn on him that his family was becoming attached to this place.  It was a great moment to witness as he looked over at his daughter who just nodded enthusiastically.
The reason I think I still find wonder in these moments is that it is so counter-cultural.  In this western world we are fed this idea that we don’t need anyone else in our lives.  We are individuals or individual families.  We have no need for the type of community that the Church is about.  And yet, when people taste the kind of fellowship that comes from the Holy Spirit, it’s addicting.  They want to join up in a good way.
This is not to say that our church is doing it perfectly (although, I’m biased, I think we’re awesome) or to say that all churches experience these moments.  I think these moments are so often missed, so often taken for granted.  As staff members we are so quick to merely desire more congregants that we miss the process and the story of how they got there.
But we can’t miss that!  We can’t take for granted that we aren’t adding numbers to a page or an attendance rate.  We are adding active stories being lived out within our midst.  We are adding community.  We are adding hearts to beat in time with our own as we bring glory to the Almighty.

I'm getting stronger everyday

On a recent episode of a TV show that I watch occasionally there was a scene between a woman and her mentor.  The mentor was in the hospital and was imparting some final words of wisdom on her mentee.  The mentor was telling of hardship she had experienced due to an unplanned pregnancy and the heartbreak that comes with choosing to give her child up for adoption.  The story was gut wrenching, hard to handle even though I knew it was fictional.  Then the younger woman, familiar with heartbreak herself, replied to her mentor with the statement I’m sure we’ve all asked of those who have walked the hard road, “I don’t know how you found the strength.”
“Honey, we’re women.  The strength finds us.”
This statement rang so true to me.  So divinely placed in this 43 minute episode of dramatic interpretation of our world, for me to hear during this week of my life.
Men seem to be born with strength.  They seem to have it ingrained in their DNA, at least those born into our western society.  I’m sure there is an argument to be made for the fact that this is more a societal perception than an actual fact but nonetheless, they seem to carry it with their mere presence.
Women on the other hand, they seem to be more delicate in all ways.  There is this perception that women are not strong, they are frilly and weak – in need of protection.  There are songs about it, movies about it.  I would never say that women aren’t strong.  But I think that this particular kind of strength, the strength to overcome heartbreak and seek redemption in its place is God given.  In other words, the strength finds us when we need it.
We can’t conjure this kind of strength, it is sent to us by the Spirit and we are mere receivers of it.
I come from a family of strong women, on both sides.  Women who have fought soul crushing heartbreak and came out still standing.  And I guarantee that each of them would say they could not explain where the strength came from in those moments.  They know that they could never have found it on their own, they would say that God saved them when they needed saving the most.
I can recognize this because I see it in my own life too.  I see moments where I could not even see straight or walk straight.  But I see how I was lead from those moments by the hand of a God who loves stronger than any force of this world.  And that hand is the one I cling to, that strength has found me and prepared me for life in this broken world.
This strength seems so foreign, and you don’t even really notice that it found you until you’re on the other side.  And it’s a beautiful thing.  I think this could easily explain how God used so many women in the Bible do to incredible things, like birth the savior of our world or lay a baby among reeds hoping against hope that he will be saved.  God gives strength to women to do great things because they cannot do them alone.
Honey, we’re women.  The strength finds us.

softly into that good night

At the beginning of the October something terrible happened in the neighborhood my family lives in. I tried several times to write a post on the way that it has effected my family and me, living so far away.  Even though my family didn’t know either the young girl or the boy that took her life, the reality that my neighborhood was not as safe as they once thought was setting in rapidly.  But every post I tried to write seemed not right.
Until I found this post over on A Deeper Story.  This writer understood.  She got what I was processing and trying to understand.  The hardship of a neighborhood now changed.
In the post, the author writes of the purple ribbons around the neighborhood, tied to trees, mailboxes up and down the street.  They originally stood as reminders to the young girl and her family that the community would not stop looking for her, now they serve as a reminder that her family is on our minds and in our hearts.
Last week I was home for Thanksgiving and was not entirely ready to face this harsh truth of the situation.  Those little purple reminders that something awful happened here and that two families in this community have changed forever.
I wonder who is caring for them?  I wonder if there is someone in their lives telling them that this was not the life that they were created for.  That this sort of evil that has seeped into their lives is not of God.  That as the holidays approach, that it’s okay to not be grateful.  That this season of holidays may not feel right and that that’s okay.  I hope that there are people in their lives that can walk alongside them in this excruciatingly difficult time.
I think churches are beginning to wisen up to the fact that more and more people aren’t always able to experience the advent season with joy and anticipation.  I think more and more we as pastors are trying to keep in mind that there are those among us drowning in grief and sorrow while we plan Christmas pageants and put up twinkly lights.  As a Christian community we are beginning to get it.
But it’s imperative that we do not stop celebrating advent because it might be hard for people.  More so it is imperative that we invite them into the advent celebration however they come to the table.  We can be heartbroken and still await the arrival of the newborn King.  We merely need to be made comfortable to mourn at the same time.

but it's all our hearts can take

I’ve had some good conversations recently.  We all know that the majority of my time in Seminary I’ve been struggling through this notion of grief and suffering in the Church and how we deal with it.  I’ve written papers, given presentations, walked alongside others, shared my own experiences…overall I’ve tried to enter into this story that we so often shy away from as a church community.
Today I found myself pondering it once again.  I know some people in the middle of a struggle that is hard.  It’s not fair and it’s heartbreaking.  And the worse part of it all is when I feel like I have nothing left to say and my encouragements of “this too shall pass” sound empty and a lot like platitudes.  I have so much faith that God will redeem these hard situations and that his hand is at work even though it feels like He’s not.
And I know this because I’ve been there.  I remember being in the middle of the struggle just praying for a bone to be thrown.  Praying that the hardship will pass and the waters would calm.  And they did.  I’ve lived through them and can honestly say that the waters subside and new life begins.  And my story is richer because of this.
But I also understand that in the midst, it’s hard to see past the waters crashing over your head.  And even as I walk beside these friends and try to hold their hands-I find myself thinking, “I know that this is going to make a great story but right here right now – It hurts.”  And I know that if I find myself thinking that, how much more do the others feel it?
As I processed this all with some friends this morning, I was realizing that my heart is much more attached than I thought it was.  I have grown attached to these friends, I love them and want their pain to stop defining their lives.  I am so angry that they have been dealt this hand and that their lives are forever changed by it.
And then I read this post on The Deeper Family.  In this post the author talks about tipping the scale.  His wife, the mother of his three children, died suddenly.  Life dealt them a short hand, tipping the scale to one side.  In this post the author boldly searches to accept this loss and live in spite of it, to choose to tip the scale back to find its balance.
I’ve never thought about accepting that tragedy does define us.  We have to stop pretending it doesn’t.  It does define our lives, we live in a new reality.  But that doesn’t mean we have to let tragedy diminish our lives.  We can choose to live into the faith that God will redeem the short hand dealt to us by life.
Once we accept that the scale has been tipped, we can tip it back into balance with the way we live our lives in spite of tragedy.
Beautiful concept, and totally liveable.

now it's rising from the ground

This weekend I got to babysit for my favorite Chicago Kansans.  I always love babysitting for them because it usually means a few things: guaranteed laughs, good food, snuggles and some book reading.  It’s a fabulous arrangement.
A side note, with no relevance to this post is that I was babysitting so that the parents, my dear friends, could go watch their team K-State play.  So when I walked in on Saturday night all five family members were wearing K-State t-shirts.  Love it.
So fast forward to dinner.  I had served up our delicious food and we had some Gungor playing in the background.  We were sitting at the table when The Earth is Yours came on.  I made a comment on how much I love that particular song and this conversation followed:
“You know Alicia, this whole CD is about the Bible,” their 5 year old daughter told me.
“I do know that.  Do you know what this song is about?” I replied.
“No.”
“It’s about how God created the earth and so everything on the earth belongs to Him.”   I could see her mind working on processing this when the chorus came on.  Almost like she couldn’t help it she started singing along.  So I joined in, quickly followed by their 3 year old son.
Holy, Holy, Holy, Holy Lord.  The earth is Yours and singing, 
When the verse kicked back in, I continued my explanation.  I tried to explain what Holy means to these two small minds.  I tried to explain that this song was meant to worship God for his creation and the ways that he provides for us.  I talked about how when we say, “The earth is Yours and singing” we are saying that we recognize that God is the one who created us all and that he is Holy.
Then the chorus came back around.
Holy, Holy, Holy, Holy Lord. The earth is Yours and singing,
Then there was a moment of silence from the kids.  Until my little 5 year old lovely broke it saying, “So we just worshiped right there.”
“We did, yeah.”  I responded with a smile.
For the rest of the night she was astonished by the fact that we can worship whenever we want.
It was one of those moments when you realize that she gets it.  She gets what worship is on the most basic level.  It’s a conversation to grow on as she continues to understand the character of God.
But in that moment, I think she got something that most of us struggle to realize in our everyday lives.

safety pin me to your chest

This morning our staff gathered, as we do weekly, to Dwell in the Word.  Dwell is a practice we do once a week where we spend time purposefully dwelling in the Scripture for the upcoming two Sundays.  It begins with a prayer and then two readings of the same scripture.  After that we get to reflect to a partner, uninterrupted for three minutes.  Then you switch roles (within the partners) then we come back together as a whole group and your partner shares what they heard you say.  Then we reflect on how this process went for each of us individually.
This morning, our second dwell passage was Exodus 2:11-25.  During my time with my partner, I reflected on the part of the scripture where Moses is attempting to correct two Hebrew men he found fighting.  One of the men says to Moses, “Who appointed you to be our prince and judge?”  Then it is revealed that Moses is a murderer and he flees to Midian….
The place I was hung up on was this question of “Who appointed you?”  The answer to the Hebrew man’s question is … No one… YET!  It would be another 40 years before Moses was actually called to do the work of the Lord.  At this point, Moses was just a highly confused Hebrew man who had been raised Egyptian, and having just killed an Egyptian slave driver for beating a Hebrew man.  He was trying to put his own kind of salvation on his fellow Hebrews, thinking he knew what was best, when the reality was – that wasn’t God’s plan and he wasn’t ready yet for God’s plan.
Reflecting on a similar part of the passage, my partner said, “As God encounters us we are called to conform – to be in a better position of listening.”
It was so profound to me.  So many times I think that I know what is best for any given problem presented before me.  I think I know how to fix it all.  And recently I have found myself in several situations that in all honesty, just plain suck. There are people in my life that are hurting in ways I can relate to but I can do nothing about.  And in those moments all I can do is pray harder for God’s intervening hand.  I can’t fix the situation, I can’t make this person act better towards this other person.
This past Sunday I prayed one of these prayers.  Being at the complete end of my own rope in helping, I prayed fervently that God would intervene and open the eyes of the blind.  That he would make this situation in my life go from broken to complete and to use me in the process.
And God moved.  I am not saying the situation is healed, there is going to have to be a lot more prayer for that to happen completely.  But there is progress.  There has been movement that have happened that I could only dream of.  It’s not complete but it’s a step forward.
Sometimes I need to remember that I am the one that needs to be attached to God, not God attached to me.

Pharaoh Pharaoh – oh Baby – let my people go

I must admit to you all (all 5 of you who read this blog) that I have been holding back on you.  For the last few weeks my brain and life have been consumed by one particular topic, one massively intrusive and mind altering topic and I have kept you all in the dark.  Mostly because that topic has been the theme that we are embarking on at church, and until our fall kick-off yesterday, we were keeping it a secret.  So all the things that I’ve been thinking and struggling through, are now coming to light to our congregation and I can now talk through them on here.  Hallelujah.
We are spending the next year at church immersed in the book of Exodus.  We are attempting to Discover God’s Story through one of the most well known and possibly least known/understood stories of the Old Testament.  I only say this because as our staff has spent the summer poring over the words of Moses, we always come up with more questions than answers.  We always end our time together having learned or discovered something new about this so famous story.  It’s mind blowing.
And I’m realizing that the themes of Exodus are EVERYWHERE within the Christian faith.  Everywhere I turn I am bombarded with varying thoughts and perspectives on the Exodus story.  It’s fascinating to me.
So all of that to say, I hope you understand that from here on out, you may read this blog and frequently find the story of Exodus in the topic.  I hope it stimulates your thoughts the way it has mine.  For now, I will leave you with one quote, setting the stage for this shift in blog material… this is from one of my worship class books by a woman named Constance Cherry:

After the death of Pharaoh who favored Joseph and his clan, the people of Israel found themselves in bondage and fragmented in purpose and vision.  At just the right time from God’s point of view, he intervened with a might saving act that defined Israel’s history.