I’m taking a little bit of a break from my busy week to update this little corner of the internet.
In the midst of preparations for Advent and Christmas Eve, I’m realizing that I haven’t really gotten much chance to enjoy the recent truth that I have a call. I have been called as a Pastor. For so long I’ve lived in temporary terms. As a teenager, as a college student, as an intern, as a seminary student, as an interim – just filling in. I’ve been waiting for so long to finally know where I was going to set down roots. I’ve been dreaming of picking out an apartment, furniture, setting up my desk and find a new normal.
And while yes, some of those things are still in my near future, it looks different. It looks different because I’m getting to stay at this amazing little church that I’ve been at for a year and a half now. So a new routine – not necessarily. Plus the call came in the middle of Advent – the craziest season for those of us called to work in the church. It came in the midst of budget reports, staff evaluations and retreat planning.
But it is joyous news all the same. As of January 1st, I will be Pastor of Children, Families and Administration in my little corner of the world. So here we go.
it reminds me, I already have more than I should
“Many people say, ‘who will show us better times?’
Let your face smile upon us, LORD.
You have given me great joy
than those who have abundant harvests of grain and new wine.
In peace I will lie down and sleep
for you alone, O LORD, will keep me safe.” Psalm 4:6-8
I sometimes feel like the good and challenges of life are like a balancing act. At any moment the scale can tip in the other direction. It’s the nature of this broken life we have here on earth. And sometimes it’s never more evident to me than during this Christmas season.
Last weekend the church where I work voted to call me as a Pastor. It’s amazing news, an amazing affirmation of who God has created me to be. I love this congregation, I love our little city and I love doing ministry with our staff. It’s been a little while in the making and now that it’s finally public and official (after the first of the year), I am rejoicing.
Two days before this great news became official and public, I received devastating news of the death of a former classmate and sister in Christ. I was finishing an amazing 4 day vacation in NYC with Pastor and upon checking Facebook, I realized something was very very wrong. I did some research and discovered the terrible truth.
It’s the constant struggle between how good life can be and the possibility of the sting when an earthly life ends. I’ve found myself going back and forth between the joy of having a call and feeling finally like I know where my life seems to be heading and the deep hurt of mourning the loss of a friend. As well as the remembrance of losing my father four years ago.
In this season, when there is joy and cheer around us at all times, when we are surrounded by lights and the bustle of the Christmas season, let us not forget that the Christ child that we are celebrating came to rescue us. Came to reside with us in the joyful times yes, but also in the times of deep despair.
The shepherds, Mary and Joseph, the Magi – they all understood this fact. They knew the history – Israel had been LONGING for deliverance for years. They were experiencing deep despair, they knew what it meant to suffer. And this child – this baby that was to be found wrapped in swaddling cloths, in a manger – was sent from heaven to restore all that had been broken.
Hope.
That’s what they found in the manger. But it’s important to remember- they found a baby. I can only imagine the confusion, there was no plan. No revelation of how exactly this little baby boy was going to bring about restoration. But they saw the evidence of God’s hand in that manger and they believed in that hope. They fell down and worshiped even though they didn’t know how this baby was going to be the answer to their despair.
So I find myself continuing to fall down at His feet, even though I see the pain and sorrow of this world. I cling on to the hope found in the manger. And I rely on the glimpses that I get of God’s work in my life and the lives of my loved ones.
And I will pray. Pray for the peace of the Lord.
just a ghost that broke my heart before I met you
There’s a song by Laura Marling called Ghosts. This posts’ title is a line from that song. It’s a song about a boy going to a girl and divulging all of the “ghosts” that broke his heart before they had met. He’s opening up to her in hopes for a chance at relationship and her response is, “Lover, please do not fall to your knees, it’s not like I believe in everlasting love.”
I’ve always like this song, mostly because her voice is so unique and haunting, but also just because musically it’s a phenomenal song. It has all the things that make a song good for me: unexpected harmonies, a good drum track, piano, added touches that really drive it home. But the lyrics are so sad that it’s always been conflicted.
But lately I’ve been talking a lot about community. And last night when this song came through my car speakers I realized it was more true than I thought.
In all of the talking I’ve been doing about community I keep coming down to the same fact: friendship is hard. Community is meant to be deep and lasting, but because it is deep, it’s a huge risk for pain. And often, when (not if) that pain happens, it leaves a mark.
The thing I’ve recently realized about myself is that I have a lot of those marks. Friendships that ended and couldn’t be fixed. Because in a perfect world we would be able to get over our differences, both apologize and be able to reconcile. But we don’t live in a perfect world, and sometimes our brokenness and immaturity can hinder the process of reconciliation. So what we end up with is a ripped seam that never quite looks the same again.
And that was me, about a year ago. I didn’t realize that I had become this hard person who didn’t really believe that I was meant to have deep, lasting friendships. I thought I’d always be on the fringe, that the ghosts that had broken my heart in my past had caused me to no longer believe in the ability to have meaningful relationships.
But I was wrong. Oh man I was wrong. And the only reason I found out I was wrong was that I suddenly had three women who were deeply invested in me and I was (shockingly) deeply invested in them. I realize that sounds like one day I woke up and they were there but that’s how it felt. I recently received some good news and upon sharing it with them, their reactions made me realize that I suddenly had “my people.”
But I had to learn a lot of lessons about community along the way. I realized that if I have a small number of people who really know me and love me on a deeper level, then I have more capacity for others outside of that “inner circle.” Because I’ve been learning that we each have personalities and limitations when it comes to friendships, so we aren’t (and shouldn’t be) able to be on a deep level with a lot of people. We have to have tiers, which again – sounds awful but I think it’s really healthy. And I think that if we were honest about the reality that we aren’t all super deeply close, then we would have better friendships.
Community is a hard thing to pin down and really do well. But it’s okay, we have time to figure it out. But for now, I’m super thankful for the three women that have chosen to walk beside me and allow me to walk beside them. I’m overwhelmingly blessed by their friendship and reciprocal love. Thanks for helping me love others better.
To close, it’s okay to have a hard heart sometimes, but don’t let it stop you from finding everlasting (friend) love.
eternity in your hands
It’s overcast today. Pretty dark outside – the kind of day that makes you want to crawl back into bed rather than work.
I’m also working on a sermon today on Creation and Christ’s role in Creation. So I’m waist deep in some muddy Greek talk about Colossians 1:15-20. I’m in the trenches with this Greek scholar, making my NT professor from Seminary proud. I’m trying to put in the work.
Simultaneously, our Worship Director is practicing songs for Sunday morning. The same songs that will be surrounding my sermon. And in this building without real ceilings to keep sound in, I can hear him practice even though I can’t see him.
We picked the songs in our meeting on Monday, I knew that they would correspond well with the topic that I’m preaching on. And yet I’m still shocked, as he sings the words and I hear the praise rise to the deserving firstborn over all creation.
It’s a powerful moment to stop and think of the significance of our Savior standing before creation, existing before any of this existed. Creating the world out of love for his people, love for us. And then his coming to earth to love for us, to die for us. It’s an amazing act of sacrifice and love that he was pleased to do (Col 1:19).
Which begs the question, how do respond to this love? Are we serving our purpose as creation to worship the Holy One?
life in eden changed
I’ve been mulling around some thoughts about millenials lately. It’s been dominating conversations I’ve been having recently and has therefore been taking up some headspace.
I’ve also been watching a lot of Aaron Sorkin TV shows (namely The West Wing). It’s almost created a post or two about why I’m so drawn to these show and how I feel about millenials.
And then I read this blog post.
Rachel Held Evans has done it again. Taken the very same conversation that has been on my mind and written a lovely blog about it.
I agree with almost everything she says in this post. I see my friends retweet and share it on Facebook and I have hope that this conversation can hopefully spark some change.
It seems as though I’ve been wading water recently. I feel stuck in the in-between. I have graduated, received that little piece of paper that says that I am “trained” to be a pastor. I’ve met with leaders of our denomination who have encouraged me and affirmed my gifts and my call. I’ve put in the time, done the internships.
And now I wait. Wait for a call. Wait for what my life will look like moving forward.
And this in-between time has allowed my mind to wander. I’ve finally allowed myself to dream about what my ministry could look like. The excitement of starting something new comes in waves these days. A new area to explore, a new congregation’s worth of stories to hear, a new set of people to explore the Story with. It’s exciting.
I’ve been watching Season 6 of The West Wing. And once again I’m struck by the inspiration that the characters just seem to ooze. I see the glimmer of this excitement in Josh Lyman’s eye when he starts to think about who should be President next. I see that glimmer as he convinces his candidate to run, saying that together they could make a difference.
But then they start the campaign and simultaneously they start to fight. Because they don’t see the country in the same way, they don’t know how to do what they want to do together. They have these yelling matches in which you can feel the tension between them. And it reminds me of the church.
You see, I think millenials are leaving the church for all the reasons that Rachel Held Evans says, but I think there’s more to it. I think that the touch of entitlement and selfishness of the millenial generation plays into the scenario as well. We show up and assume that church should look like what we want it to look like and when it doesn’t, we’re out.
We don’t stick around for the fight. We don’t allow our voices to be heard because we’ve been told again and again that we aren’t the ones in charge. And I get that, I get the idea that no one is listening to me so why should I stick around. But the thing is, that some churches are listening, or trying to listen. Some churches are working on how to make the church deeper and not just wider.
I once heard a talk from Phyllis Tickle, talking about how the older generation needs the younger generation to be able to move the church forward. But that the younger generation needs the older generation to make sure we don’t move forward at an unsustainable pace.
It’s just like Josh Lyman and his candidate. Josh needs his candidate’s big dreams because he understands the cries of the people, but the candidate needs Josh’s expertise in how to get there. And together they can make it happen.
So millenials – please don’t keep leaving. It may be a hard road to see the change in the Church that we need right now, but it won’t happen if you keep leaving. I’m not promising it will be easy, it won’t be. But Jesus didn’t call us to the easy road, he called us to the one that leads to him.
If we keep leaving the church instead of fighting for what we believe is the truth of the gospel, then we prove the writers of Time Magazine right about our generation. But if we stay and work alongside of those already in the Church, we live up to the best of what Rachel Held Evans is saying about us.
I want to sing of hope everlasting
These last couple of days have found me on the shores of Lake Michigan. Celebrating the last year of ministry with my fellow staff members. We’ve laughed, we’ve cried, we’ve shared story and we’ve encountered God through his Word.
I’m realizing more and more how we all come to the Word differently, not only in how we process and interpret it, but in how we share it with others. How we allow it to push into other aspects of our lives – of our passions.
I’ve had musician friends write music inspired by certain texts, or artists draw or paint a picture inspired by the text. I’ve heard heart felt discussions and studies on various pieces of the bible. What’s fascinating to me is to sit across from someone and hear their explanation of their process.
It’s amazing to listen as someone starts from the beginning.
“There’s this story in Ezekiel ….”
They set the stage for those of us who know it well and those of us who may not know it at all.
“Where Ezekiel talks about prophesying over dry bones…”
And you can hear their imaginations start to work.
“I see all these bones and sinews and tendons which makes me think of the Lion King and a production of these bones coming to life…”
And from there, they continue on. Describing colors or shapes, symbol crashes and the sounds of rattling. It’s like they are tying to show you a picture that is in their mind, something they have imagined up over the years.
Without fail, it ceases to amaze me when I hear people encountering scriptures in ways that I cannot. Through graffiti, art, collages, sound production, dramas, feasts … The list can go on and on. And when I sit across from them, with a cup of coffee in my hand, I listen intently as they describe the process. As they do I can hear the Spirit speaking through them. I can see that they have seen a side of God that I have not. And I want to lean in closer, in hopes to see what they see. I want to see the world through their eyes, if only for a moment. To steal a glimpse of how they see these words of God come to life.
Then I realize. This is my life. There are a lot of things about being a pastor that I’m really looking forward to doing, but this one just might take the cake.
been talking about the way things change
I love rivers. Rivers of all sizes, creeks, rushing rapid rivers and the great Mississippi.One of the reasons of my love of rivers is that so many of my childhood memories had some sort of river involved.
Our neighborhood that we grew up in had a small creek running through it where the neighborhood kids would look for tadpoles and play sword fights on the mossy, wet rocks.
Or the many camping trips taken alongside of rivers and falling asleep to the sound of water rushing over rocks. Then waking to the same sound and the fresh but murky smell of river water. Then the return home where you discover that somehow everything in your bag is damp with the river.
White water rafting trips where you learn to respect the wildness of the river. Learn the dangers that could overtake you at any moment if you aren’t careful.
Walking barefoot along the rocks of the river, cool to the touch yet glimmering in the sun. Hard and jagged but at the same time slimy as if smooth.
Rivers are always moving. The community living below the water must always change with the current. Must be able to fully adapt to the constant change or be swept away with the rush.
Most people are either water people or mountain people – they draw near to God in those places and desire to vacation in those familiar spaces. But in my mind, River people are a bread of their own. Don’t get me wrong, I think I’m the perfect balance of a water and mountain person (if all other factors – like my family being in the mountains – were equal). But really, if I’m honest – it’s the River that I find most comforting – most intriguing.
It’s in the speediness of the river that I find God. The ever changing yet constantly stable riverbed. My life has been like a river in some way, constantly flowing without my real ability to change anything. It’s created a go-with-the-flow style to my heart and yet made me incredibly cautious to putting down permanent roots in any one place.
I wonder if this is how I’ll always be or that it’s the way things have been up until now and once I find my call, once I figure out where I am going with some sense of finality I will feel less transient. Or if I’ll always have a strong sense of the current flowing through me.
no man (or woman) is an island
Legacy. It’s a funny word and a funny concept. Everyone wants to leave one, everyone wants to believe that they have left a mark on the world in which they live. We all want to know that if we leave – it will be noticed.
I’ve seen legacies made. Good ones, hard ones, ones that have that rippling effect to everyone they meet. But most often, you don’t recognize the legacy in the moment, you see it later on, when the person has left and you see the impact they made on the community.
When I became a Christian, I remember looking up to all the amazing Christian women in my life. I remember clearly watching their faith journey’s closely in order to find a pattern. Something I could mimic, some sort of formula that helped me understand how they became so strong, so full of faith.
I would take note of their spiritual practices and then apply them into my own life. Early morning bible reading, pages and pages of journaling, hospitality, hours of prayer, listening to Christian music in the car… In my mind I thought, if I apply their principles into my own life, then I’ll end up with a faith like theirs.
A few weeks ago, before graduation, all the graduates went to our denominational headquarters to have dessert with our president and receive our Books of Worship and Hymnals. During the presentation, he challenged us to think of someone who has greatly impacted our faith and rename ourselves after them, the way the Pope does when he is named. We were told to come up and say ours without explanation – “Pope _____________”.
So I started thinking. I’ve had an amazing amount of mentors, friends and authors that have impacted my faith. But my mind kept coming back to the wife of the couple I currently live with, so I said her name when I went up there. Later that night I was telling her about it and telling her about how I’ve learned so much by living with her this year and am amazed at her faith and she said something really profound to me.
She told me about how when her husband was first called to ministry and she saw all these women in the church who had such amazing gifts of hospitality and caring. How they all could cook these amazing meals and provide for people who were in need. And how she never thought she could do the things they did, but that over the years she learned how to do it in her own way.
The more I think about it, the more I realize that this is it. The key to understanding legacy within community. Community is all about learning from one another, impacting one another. When I see those women who have qualities that I admire, I have to figure out my own way of getting there, working on them. I cannot assume that I can apply their formula on my life because I am not created the same way as they are – I have to find my own formula.
Which is the beauty of community. Living alongside of others helps see who we want to become or how we want to behave. It’s human nature with a divine inspiration.
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.