Random Reflection on Love

There is a fierce independence amongst some Christians,

Yet God calls us to be the Body of Christ,

Intertwined,

Each with different functions,

All serving together toward one common goal:

Love,

For God IS love.

 

Love does not haphazardly

Discard differences or

Throw away challenges.

 

Love does not discriminate

By color or age or gender or status.

 

Love does not make swooping changes

Without considering long-term affects.

 

Love does not boast about its accomplishments.

 

Love does not gloat in hurting others.

 

Love is not red.

Or blue.

Or black.

Or white.

 

Love is not inciting battles that turn to wars.

 

Love is not money.

 

Love is not greed.

 

Love is not a business.

 

Love is people,

Real people,

With real needs,

And hurts,

And feelings,

Trying to make it in this world,

And, in America,

Trying to live into the creed

That all humankind is created equal.

Love is a choice.

And an action.

And an outpouring of a heart grounded in

Love that comes from God,

For God IS love,

And anything less than love

Does not come from God.

 

It is that complicatedly simple.

Sanctity of Human Life

 

If I believe in the sanctity and dignity of human life,

Then I must care about not only when life is conceived and born 

But also about what happens to that life once it enters the world. 

I must care about not only people who look and sound like me

But also about people from every tribe and nation, of every language and skin color. 

I must care about actions and policies that not only honor and protect me

But that also honor and protect the least of these. 

If I am free in Christ, 

If I believe in and follow Jesus, 

If I believe that Jesus really did summarize the law and the prophets in one statement: Love God and love others as self, 

Then I must love others not by 

Damning them 

But by welcoming them as God’s child,

Created in God’s image, 

Both to be born and truly to live. 

 

Memorial Day Sadness

Today is Memorial Day. Today is a day when we remember the men and women who have made the ultimate sacrifice for our country. They gave their lives to defend that values and freedoms that we hold true.

I am grateful.

But I am also profoundly sad. Sad for lives lost, yes. But sadder for the ever-widening divisions in this country today…and how scripture and the Christian faith are being used to justify actions and beliefs that I fear are not of God.

We are becoming increasingly more about “me”—about “my rights” and “my freedoms,” me, me, me.

I can’t think of a place in the Bible where the narrative is about “me.” Yes, individual stories make up the canon that we know as scripture, but if we read deeper into the stories and truly search out the meaning of the narrative, we will find that the stories are about God and God’s redemptive work with God’s people…and we find, over and over again, people sacrificing themselves for the good of many—even when they don’t want to.

We are told, “Do not take advantage of the widow or the fatherless.” (Exodus 22:22)

We are commanded to, “Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy.” (Proverbs 31: 8-9)

We are challenged, “Learn to do right; seek justice. Defend the oppressed. Take up the cause of the fatherless; plead the case of the widow.” (Isaiah 1:17)

We are further told, “What does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” (Micah 6:8)

Jesus himself said, “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.” (Luke 9:23)

And in one of the beautiful poignant and beautiful passages of scripture ever written, Jesus said, “Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.” (John 15:13)

And after he lived for us, constantly laying down his life in prayer and sacrifice for us, he went and died for us…and came back to life for us…and sent his Holy Spirit to us to be with us in his absence…so that we can be near him wherever we are, under any circumstances we find ourselves in…surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses…or completely alone.

THIS is the Christian faith that I hold to. THESE are the truths that I hold self-evident. Yes. I live in a country that allows many freedoms. I stand on the backs of many men and women who have made the ultimate sacrifice. I am so grateful.

But my faith is deeper than a country that is telling me that it’s all about me and my rights. It’s about us. ALL of us. And sacrificing as we must for the good of those created in God’s image—and that is all of humankind.

“See to it that no one takes you captive through hollow and deceptive philosophy, which depends on human tradition and the basic principles of this world rather than Christ.” Colossians 2:8

God, help us. Amen.

It Is For Freedom That Christ Has Set Us Free

The people of Israel,
released from captive slavery,
came face to face with what seemed like an obstacle, struggled, then
decided that they wanted to go back to Egypt.

Yet it is for freedom that God has set us free.

The disciples in Jerusalem,
grieving Peter’s impending death,
heard a knock at the door,
heard Peter’s presence announced,
forgot that the same God who parted the Red Sea and moved a freed people forward
could break the chains that bound Peter to prison walls.

Yet it is for freedom that Christ has set us free.

Adults living in fear of being called out,
Children stifled by crippling self-doubt.
Partners living in fear of doing something wrong,
Self-worth poisoned by threats of alone.

Yet it is for freedom that Christ has set us free.

Oh God: Help us when
We look at our lives
And paint pictures of Egypt.
Oh God, please: When memories haunt us--
When the yoke of fear
Begins to bind--
When good intentions go awry and
We are rendered useless--
Help us to remember who You
Are. You have made a path through the
Desert and delivered us from chains that bind. It is
You, always You, who calls us forward.
It is You, always You, who gives life and sets us free.

It is for freedom, friends,
That Christ has set us free:
One day—one moment—one breath—at a time.

Probably Not. She Lost The Son of God.

At the end of church yesterday, we sang a congregational version of the modern Christmas classic, “Mary Did You Know.” We sang it more quickly than normal, with a driving beat, and I sang at the top of my lungs. Then, after the song ended, I thought to myself, “Probably not. Mary probably didn’t know that her baby boy would do all of those great things. And that’s okay. Because she chose to be his mom nonetheless.”

Mary, 12 year old Mary,
chose to say yes to God when
God asked her to do the unthinkable.
God asked Mary to do something that could have literally gotten her killed.
It didn’t.

But Mary likely still greeted death:
death of reputation,
death of family hopes,
death of fulfilled expectations,
death of tradition,
death of childhood.

Mary also likely felt
the hurt of being
the center of attention
as an outcast.

Yet Mary chose this.

She chose it because she knew
being the mother of the Messiah was
who she was meant to be—
no matter what.

Mary wasn’t a perfect mom.
She lost the son of God, for goodness sake!

But Mary did her best to raise her son because
She loved him.

And she made the choice,
took the risk,
embraced the ridicule,
accepted the many deaths
that came from
following her call and
living into who she was created to be.

Did Mary know that being herself would lead her to raise a son that would cause the blind to see, the deaf to hear, the lame to leap, the dumb to speak, and the dead to live again? Probably not. She probably didn’t know she’d leave him at the temple either! But she chose to be his mom nonetheless. And the sleeping child in her arms turned out to be the biggest blessing imaginable: the great I am.

Images from Camp

Four teenagers walking down the road carrying buckets to gather water. The house we were working on had no running water. We were working in a neighborhood that is falling into disrepair as residents are getting older and the town is channeling money elsewhere.

An 82-year-old woman sweeping grass off of her sidewalk, allowing me to finish sweeping for her as she told me how grateful she was for our presence across the street. Talking with her inspired a sidewalk cleaning project that rallied our work crew and gave them a sense of purpose and accomplishment. The grass in front of the house at which we were working had completely covered the sidewalk. In fact, the soil had built up to the point that it was over a foot deep in front of the steps. When we left, the sidewalk was clean and plans had been made for the yard-keeper at the abandoned house two houses over was making plans to clear the sidewalk in front of that house as well.

A group of white teenagers gathering around a middle-aged African American woman, praying with and for her in an effort to release her from the hoarding tendencies that had almost gotten her house condemned and receiving a blessing from her because of the positive path they were choosing. This prayer occurred on Friday, just before we packed up and moved out, and it blessed everyone involved, including our homeowner’s husband who caught my eye and gave me a grateful thumbs-up and nod of affirmation.

The “body of Christ” being shared with each participant by a beautifully humble staff member who radiated peace and joy through her smile and intentional eye contact. Most persons didn’t look at her as she said, “The body of Christ broken for you,” yet she still saw each person and served them the “bread of life.” I imagined her saying a prayer for each person as he/she approached, and I realized that what was happening in front of me was a depiction of what often happens in ministry: we serve yet we are often not seen and sometimes we are even ignored; yet still, we serve, praying that love of Christ will shine through us. The whole experience moved me to tears.

Jesus. 12-years-old. At the temple. Fully alive. Fully himself. Finding his call. Going home. Growing up. Jesus went home to grow up.

Seeing the words “everyone’s welcome here, no one has to hide” projected onto the screen. Hearing the words being sung. Feeling tears streaming down my face as I realized that the words we were singing were words I want to believe but words that haven’t always been shown to me. Everyone is welcome at God’s table. Now it’s up to us, the church, to show it.

Jesus, The Four Boys, and A Girl

Last night, after I carefully navigated the minefield of my bedroom in order to make it to my bed, I felt an overwhelming amount of love for the three bombs sleeping on my floor (and the other two kids sleeping in the house as well).

It’s no secret that I adore my nephews and niece, but I’ve come to love them even more this Advent as I’ve allowed my mind to wander to Jesus’ childhood—to his first steps, his unadulterated joy, his being the life of the party, his being the center of adoration, his having grandparents and aunts/uncles, his being a normal kid like these kids I love.

Somehow, in Jesus’ birth and growth becoming more real, the lives of the five children in my life have become more special.

If I believe that each of us is created in God’s image—which I do—and that Jesus was fully human and fully divine—which I believe he was—then I cannot deny the similarities between Jesus as a child and these children that I love.

Jesus was not an untouchable, fragile, docile baby frozen in a silent manger scene and then moved to the temple as a 12-year-old pawn.

Jesus was real.

He could have been my nephew in another time and another place.

Jesus sang and danced and played and laughed and cried and melted down when he was tired or hungry and had a bed time and probably thought it was funny to make armpit noises.

Do these things make my Prince of Peace any less divine?

No.

They just make him more real, and they make his spirit more easily seen in the eyes of my four boys and a girl.

There is so much life to be lived.

The merry music making, present opening, food eating, game playing, and joke telling of my family’s Christmas celebration has reminded me this much.

Jesus came to live it.

He wants us to live it to.

With deep, deep love.

And careful avoidance of the minefields having a sleeping over on our bedroom floors.