I turned 16 in April 2001. In September 2001, I started my junior year of high school. I was sitting in creative writing class when a plane struck the first tower. I was in marine biology, fourth period, when the principal came on the intercom to tell us exactly what was going on. And even at that point, we didn't know much.
I've been hearing so many stories this week. It's hard no to hear them; every time you turn on the TV, the news is covering a different angle of 9/11. Some news programs even had former anchors as guest speakers on the news to talk about what it was like covering the news that day. I for one am actually grateful I was still in high school and not yet even interested in being a reporter (I was a reporter fresh out of college before I started seminary). I'm not sure I would have the stamina reporters needed that week to cover the news. Now, ten years later, it seems in some ways we are reliving the horrors of that day. The stories reopen old wounds and shed light on wounds that never closed to begin with. We mourned that day and in many ways, we are still mourning today as we reflect on where we've been and how far we've come since that day.
I think we've learned a number of things since that day. Even through recession, questionable politics, and fear of the vast unknown future, we've come a long way as a nation. And I'm not just talking about learning to have tighter security at air ports. I'm talking about how we've learned to come together as one people. My hope and prayer going into a new election season is that we remember what it is to be ONE PEOPLE, regardless of creed or lack of creed and regardless of all those other hot-button issues that separate us. Whenever the political nature of our nation threatens to tear us asunder, my hope and prayer is that we as ONE PEOPLE are able to tap into that sense of unity and the strength of the bond we all shared that day. I believe people are inherently good and I believe people have the capacity to be good even if there is darkness is our nature.
But above all, I hope we celebrate with purpose. And when I say celebrate with purpose, I mean I hope we are honest about what we're rejoicing in today. I've seen too many Facebooks today thanking God that Osama Bin Laden "finally got what was coming to him" and condemning him to burn in Hell. In my blog entry today, I want to be very clear about what I believe regarding these thoughts.
My disclaimer: These are my opinions. I base my opinions on how I've come to experience God in the world. I'm not speaking on behalf of the church or on the behalf of Christianity.
I preached a sermon today called, "Rejoicing in God" and I took great care to talk about 9/11 without actually talking about 9/11. The gist of my sermon was this: We do not rejoice in death; we rejoice in God. I do not celebrate that death came to people that cause terror and inflicted great pain. I rejoice in the fact that in the midst of it all, God remained faithful to God's people. God continued to act on our behalf by carrying us through and keeping us unified. As I remember 9/11 today, I'm celebrating the very fact that God acts. God always acts, and God will always act.
So I say to you today: do not rejoice in death. Do not rejoice that people "got what was coming to them" because they committed acts of terrorism against our country. Celebrate that despite those acts of terrorism, our spirit as the American people stayed strong. Regardless of the state of the American political system and the murky state of the American economy, we continue to be ONE PEOPLE. ONE NATION under God INDIVISIBLE. Let us never forget that word "indivisible."
Praise God for being a God who stays with us and acts through us and let it be our prayer as Christians to stand with our brothers and sisters of every time and place and may God help us to love, accept, and protect one another as we practice mutual forbearance.
To God -- and to God alone -- be the glory.
Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Sunday, August 28, 2011
A Constant Reminder
According to a news article on http://www.nj.com/, the last time a hurricane actually made landfall in New Jersey was in 1944 -- and at that point, the naming system for storms wasn't even in place. It's obviously well before my time. It's something well even before my parent's time. As I've watched the news and followed Hurricane Irene, I'm reminded of just how powerful Mother Nature can be.
Many are without power, and many will come home after being evacuated to find a plethora of damage on their property. What I'm grateful, for, is how far we've come in terms of learning how to be prepared for storms.
Former Fox news talkshow host and radio personality Glen Beck called the storm Irene a blessing. He said: "If you’ve waited, this hurricane is a blessing. It is a blessing. It is God reminding you – as was the earthquake last week – it’s God reminding you you’re not in control. Things can happen. Be prepared and be someone who can help others so when disaster strikes, God forbid, you’re not panicking."
When I first read what Beck said, I was immediately thrown back to when Pat Robertson said the earthquake in Haiti was God's way of bringing judgment to that people. And at first, I was sort of angry. I was thinking of all the people on the East Coast being evacuated from their homes and thinking, "Geeze, Beck, go see the Wizard and get a heart, would ya?" (Queen of Insults, I know). Then I thought about it some more and I realized I actually partially agree with Beck. But not entirely.
I don't see Hurricane Irene as a "blessing from God." I see her as a reminder that God is in control, yes, and I see her as a reminder that weather is not always 100% predictable and we ought to mirror our preparation as the ants and not as the grasshopper. Irene is not a blessing; but blessing can come out of her. I think that's an incredibly important distinction. I agree with Beck insofaras hopefully these natural diasters remind us to be prepared so we're ready when -- I doubt anymore it's 'if' -- disaster comes.
Blessing can come through something as frightening and devastating as a natural disaster. Hopefully it reminds us how grateful we ought to be for our loved ones and and how temporary the material stuff on this earth is. Anything man-made can, inevitably, be destroyed. Even the things deemed "indestructible" have a weakness at the end of days. But God's creation manages to get through it all and God gives us the strength we need to carry on. Hopefully the blessing through the storm is that we do learn how to be prepared for disasters because I know this is the first time in my memory at least -- and I'm 26 years old -- that the East Coast that far north has had to really think about disaster preparation. Hopefully we keep learning and keep getting better about facing natural disasters with faith instead of just fear (not saying the fear won't be there, but I'm hopeful it's accompanied by prayer and faith).
At any rate, I'm still watching Irene. As of this morning, she was leaning into New York. So many places are underwater, and I'm still praying for my family in New Jersey because even when the storm passes, the residual effects -- power outages, floods, etc. -- will still be there. Here's hoping we've learned a thing or two since Katrina and are better prepared in the days of clean up ahead.
Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki
Many are without power, and many will come home after being evacuated to find a plethora of damage on their property. What I'm grateful, for, is how far we've come in terms of learning how to be prepared for storms.
Former Fox news talkshow host and radio personality Glen Beck called the storm Irene a blessing. He said: "If you’ve waited, this hurricane is a blessing. It is a blessing. It is God reminding you – as was the earthquake last week – it’s God reminding you you’re not in control. Things can happen. Be prepared and be someone who can help others so when disaster strikes, God forbid, you’re not panicking."
When I first read what Beck said, I was immediately thrown back to when Pat Robertson said the earthquake in Haiti was God's way of bringing judgment to that people. And at first, I was sort of angry. I was thinking of all the people on the East Coast being evacuated from their homes and thinking, "Geeze, Beck, go see the Wizard and get a heart, would ya?" (Queen of Insults, I know). Then I thought about it some more and I realized I actually partially agree with Beck. But not entirely.
I don't see Hurricane Irene as a "blessing from God." I see her as a reminder that God is in control, yes, and I see her as a reminder that weather is not always 100% predictable and we ought to mirror our preparation as the ants and not as the grasshopper. Irene is not a blessing; but blessing can come out of her. I think that's an incredibly important distinction. I agree with Beck insofaras hopefully these natural diasters remind us to be prepared so we're ready when -- I doubt anymore it's 'if' -- disaster comes.
Blessing can come through something as frightening and devastating as a natural disaster. Hopefully it reminds us how grateful we ought to be for our loved ones and and how temporary the material stuff on this earth is. Anything man-made can, inevitably, be destroyed. Even the things deemed "indestructible" have a weakness at the end of days. But God's creation manages to get through it all and God gives us the strength we need to carry on. Hopefully the blessing through the storm is that we do learn how to be prepared for disasters because I know this is the first time in my memory at least -- and I'm 26 years old -- that the East Coast that far north has had to really think about disaster preparation. Hopefully we keep learning and keep getting better about facing natural disasters with faith instead of just fear (not saying the fear won't be there, but I'm hopeful it's accompanied by prayer and faith).
At any rate, I'm still watching Irene. As of this morning, she was leaning into New York. So many places are underwater, and I'm still praying for my family in New Jersey because even when the storm passes, the residual effects -- power outages, floods, etc. -- will still be there. Here's hoping we've learned a thing or two since Katrina and are better prepared in the days of clean up ahead.
Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Redeeming Facebook's Name
http://www.cnn.com/2011/OPINION/08/17/rushkoff.flash.mobs/index.html?hpt=hp_c1
I've said it before: I'm not really a fan of social media. I use social media like Facebook because I can keep in touch with people this way. But I also think social media, while it makes the world smaller and keeping in touch easier, has done a great deal to add to the array of things compromising our ability to function face to face in the world.
I mean, seriously: You can even order a pizza online these days.
I've been reading and watching the new regarding the question of whether or not government should have more ability to regulate social media. Is social media promoting anararchy?
Probably not. Anarchy is perhaps too strong a word. Maybe it's promoting the idea that it's easy to put groups together for a common experience. Whether that experience is positive or negative is an end which is determined by the action of the users. I don't believe social media is flawed; I believe humanity is flawed. And granted positivity and negativity are adjectives that become interchangeable depending on which side of the line you're standing. People using social media to get together to form a mob would probably say their reasons are legit. Some parts of society would agree. The victims and parts of society at large would disagree.
At this point, I'm not interested in trying to determine whether or not right and wrong really matter. The fact that some will say that an event is positive while another group describes the same event as negative is really neither here nor there; it's just the way it is. I'm not even really interested in whether or not we can play the blame game where some say, "I blame parents" others say, "I blame social media" and others say, "If you're going to blame anyone, blame the government."
Here's what I say: at some point, whose fault it is ceases to be important. Whether you think social media is evil, necessary or otherwise, the fact is that it's there and it's up to us to decide how we use it. As churches, we strive to use social media to promote our churches and stay in touch with our congregation. As people, we use social media for largely the same purpose. It's good to stay in touch and it's good to have a means to invite a large number of people to your birthday party at the same time. I used my Facebook account to invite all of my friends to attend my ordination and not only did it save me money on invitations, but it reached a group of people I don't even actually have addresses for. A lot of people came to my ordination because they heard about it through Facebook.
In the interest of putting my cards on the table, I think the government regulating social media is dangerous because in the world where privacy and terrorism co-exist (to some degree), it's hard to know where to draw the line. I take security seriously, but I also take my privacy seriously.
Then again, we might ask, "Well, if you're putting it on the internet, you're not really concerned about privacy, are you?"
Yes, actually, I am. I put stuff out there for a specific group of people. Not government officials trying to check if I'm into something that the government might classify as treasonous (I'm not, by the way, in case you were wondering).
Alas, I digress.
You use a peeler or a knife to peel an apple. You wouldn't use a hammer to peel an apple. Social media is a tool, and like any other tool, it's up to people who use it to deterine how it's used. I hope that when people ask why social media is letting people find new ways to run rampant in the streets, we respond by figuring out what programs are missing to help nurture the young people that make decisions to do something violent. As a church, what can we do to offer programs that help nurture young people (because that seems to be the demographic of the people not only using social media, but also the demographic of people engaging in the violence) so that they have a positive outlet to plug their energy into? Move beyond the question of funding, and let's start figuring out better ways to serve the people with energy, intelligence, imagination, and love.
Wishing You Peace,
Pastor Becki
I've said it before: I'm not really a fan of social media. I use social media like Facebook because I can keep in touch with people this way. But I also think social media, while it makes the world smaller and keeping in touch easier, has done a great deal to add to the array of things compromising our ability to function face to face in the world.
I mean, seriously: You can even order a pizza online these days.
I've been reading and watching the new regarding the question of whether or not government should have more ability to regulate social media. Is social media promoting anararchy?
Probably not. Anarchy is perhaps too strong a word. Maybe it's promoting the idea that it's easy to put groups together for a common experience. Whether that experience is positive or negative is an end which is determined by the action of the users. I don't believe social media is flawed; I believe humanity is flawed. And granted positivity and negativity are adjectives that become interchangeable depending on which side of the line you're standing. People using social media to get together to form a mob would probably say their reasons are legit. Some parts of society would agree. The victims and parts of society at large would disagree.
At this point, I'm not interested in trying to determine whether or not right and wrong really matter. The fact that some will say that an event is positive while another group describes the same event as negative is really neither here nor there; it's just the way it is. I'm not even really interested in whether or not we can play the blame game where some say, "I blame parents" others say, "I blame social media" and others say, "If you're going to blame anyone, blame the government."
Here's what I say: at some point, whose fault it is ceases to be important. Whether you think social media is evil, necessary or otherwise, the fact is that it's there and it's up to us to decide how we use it. As churches, we strive to use social media to promote our churches and stay in touch with our congregation. As people, we use social media for largely the same purpose. It's good to stay in touch and it's good to have a means to invite a large number of people to your birthday party at the same time. I used my Facebook account to invite all of my friends to attend my ordination and not only did it save me money on invitations, but it reached a group of people I don't even actually have addresses for. A lot of people came to my ordination because they heard about it through Facebook.
In the interest of putting my cards on the table, I think the government regulating social media is dangerous because in the world where privacy and terrorism co-exist (to some degree), it's hard to know where to draw the line. I take security seriously, but I also take my privacy seriously.
Then again, we might ask, "Well, if you're putting it on the internet, you're not really concerned about privacy, are you?"
Yes, actually, I am. I put stuff out there for a specific group of people. Not government officials trying to check if I'm into something that the government might classify as treasonous (I'm not, by the way, in case you were wondering).
Alas, I digress.
You use a peeler or a knife to peel an apple. You wouldn't use a hammer to peel an apple. Social media is a tool, and like any other tool, it's up to people who use it to deterine how it's used. I hope that when people ask why social media is letting people find new ways to run rampant in the streets, we respond by figuring out what programs are missing to help nurture the young people that make decisions to do something violent. As a church, what can we do to offer programs that help nurture young people (because that seems to be the demographic of the people not only using social media, but also the demographic of people engaging in the violence) so that they have a positive outlet to plug their energy into? Move beyond the question of funding, and let's start figuring out better ways to serve the people with energy, intelligence, imagination, and love.
Wishing You Peace,
Pastor Becki
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Trust vs. Faith
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F1ILPl5FQaM
Trust is hard.
Just ask Mowgi.
In preparation for my sermon this week, I've been spending some time this week thinking about the relationship between faith and trust. It's hard to have trust if you don't have faith. Likewise, I don't think you can have faith unless you first have a sense of trust. If we trust in someone, we have faith in him. If we have faith in someone, we trust them. Seems like the words are interchangeable.
Mostly.
But not entirely.
Take Luke 16, for example. A business owner tells his accountant that he's bad at his job and going to lose said job. The accountant works out a plan to get himself on people "Good Guy" list by cutting their debt that they owe the master. The idea is that when the master gets him out of the job, the accountant will have made friends. In other words, he figures out a way to "take care of himself" in a way that the business owner actually praises him.
And then Luke says this: 10 “Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much. 11 So if you have not been trustworthy in handling worldly wealth, who will trust you with true riches? 12 And if you have not been trustworthy with someone else’s property, who will give you property of your own?"
Trust is a process. Trust is something you earn. Trust is something you work up to. Trust is something easily broken.
Faith, to me, involves a process, but the kind of faith that Christ talks about isn't a process in and of itself. Faith is, according to Hebrews, confidence in what we hope for and assurance of what we do not see. Faith doesn't need to prove itself. Faith is what we have inherently. It takes cultivation to deepen our faith (I like the word deepen rather than strengthen, by the way), but God doesn't earn our faith and we don't earn God's faith. We trust in God because we have faith in who God is; we don't have faith in God because we trust Him.
Trust is hard. Most of us can point to experiences in our lives that have involved a burning of some sort. I have several that come to the top of my head almost immediately. Trust is tough. And once trust between two people has been broken, it's often very difficult to rebuild that trust. Trust is a process.
Faith isn't really easier, even though it's inherent. I remember people telling me that faith makes things possible, not easy. I have those times when this seems silly: why can't faith make things easy, too? Why stop at simply possible?
To quote Tom Hanks in "League of their Own": "It's supposed to be hard. If it was easy, everyone could do it."
I think God wants everyone to have faith. I think God wants everyone to be able to, without reservation, put our hope and trust in our Creator. God says in Ezekiel 18, "Do I take any pleasure in the death of the wicked? declares the Sovereign LORD. Rather, am I not pleased when they turn from their ways and live?" So why is it so hard to have faith? Why is it so hard to have trust? Why, when we step out of the boat and onto the water, do we take a few steps and then sink? (Matthew 14).
Simply put: we sink because we're human. Seriously. I'm not just being coy. We sink because we're human. We sink because we have doubts. We sink because even those with what we might call the "deepest" faith struggle with their identities in God. The important part, though, is that we keep getting out of the boat. My favorite part of the story of Peter walking on the water in the storm with Christ is that at least Peter got out of the boat. What about those other disciples watching who just sat in the boat? What do you think they were thinking when they saw Peter take those steps? Do you think they even noticed, or were they so focused on the fact that the storm was battering their boat so badly that they were in danger of sinking?
Jesus rebukes Peter for not having enough faith to stay on the waves, but I don't think Jesus means it in anger or in disappointment. I think he means it to be a teaching moment. Our faith is what gives us the ability to walk on the water. Our fear -- our human nature -- is what makes us sink.
I've been listening to a lot of music by the band "Brand New" this week, and I discovered from their album, "God and the Devil Raging Inside of Me" the song "Jesus Christ." The song is, for lack of a better word, a prayer. At one point in the song, the singer says, "At the gates does Thomas ask to see my hands" and another line that I like is, "I'm scared that I'll get scared and I swear I'll try and nail you back up." We all doubt. We all have reservations, even when we think our faith is deeper than it's ever been. It's okay to be honest with ourselves (and with God) that we've had thoughts of turning and running instead of trust in God. I think God expects that. I think God understands that. I also think that God waits for us with his open arms, waiting to welcome back all of us prodigals into His embrace.
Faith and trust are hard. Trust is something we earn and learn to do. Faith is something we already have that we learn to acknowledge and see God working through. One is a process itself. The other calls for a process.
Getting out of the boat isn't easy. It's scary. Maybe even terrifying. But you get out of the boat to get on the water because it's on the water that we encounter Jesus. And Jesus waits for us on those waves in the midst of the storm. We can take those steps; we can walk on the water with Jesus, but only if we get out of the boat first. My hope and prayer for you this week is that you are able to discern how God is calling you through the storms in your lives, whatever your storm might be. I hope you are able to trust God, recognizing that faith makes trust possible.
Not easy. Possible.
Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki
PS: incidentally, if you're looking for a great read on Matthew 14, I recommend John Ortbergs, "If you want to walk on water, you have to get out of the boat." It's a great book for an adult study and an easy read on how we identify what our boat is and how we learn to step out of it to the water where Jesus is.
Trust is hard.
Just ask Mowgi.
In preparation for my sermon this week, I've been spending some time this week thinking about the relationship between faith and trust. It's hard to have trust if you don't have faith. Likewise, I don't think you can have faith unless you first have a sense of trust. If we trust in someone, we have faith in him. If we have faith in someone, we trust them. Seems like the words are interchangeable.
Mostly.
But not entirely.
Take Luke 16, for example. A business owner tells his accountant that he's bad at his job and going to lose said job. The accountant works out a plan to get himself on people "Good Guy" list by cutting their debt that they owe the master. The idea is that when the master gets him out of the job, the accountant will have made friends. In other words, he figures out a way to "take care of himself" in a way that the business owner actually praises him.
And then Luke says this: 10 “Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much. 11 So if you have not been trustworthy in handling worldly wealth, who will trust you with true riches? 12 And if you have not been trustworthy with someone else’s property, who will give you property of your own?"
Trust is a process. Trust is something you earn. Trust is something you work up to. Trust is something easily broken.
Faith, to me, involves a process, but the kind of faith that Christ talks about isn't a process in and of itself. Faith is, according to Hebrews, confidence in what we hope for and assurance of what we do not see. Faith doesn't need to prove itself. Faith is what we have inherently. It takes cultivation to deepen our faith (I like the word deepen rather than strengthen, by the way), but God doesn't earn our faith and we don't earn God's faith. We trust in God because we have faith in who God is; we don't have faith in God because we trust Him.
Trust is hard. Most of us can point to experiences in our lives that have involved a burning of some sort. I have several that come to the top of my head almost immediately. Trust is tough. And once trust between two people has been broken, it's often very difficult to rebuild that trust. Trust is a process.
Faith isn't really easier, even though it's inherent. I remember people telling me that faith makes things possible, not easy. I have those times when this seems silly: why can't faith make things easy, too? Why stop at simply possible?
To quote Tom Hanks in "League of their Own": "It's supposed to be hard. If it was easy, everyone could do it."
I think God wants everyone to have faith. I think God wants everyone to be able to, without reservation, put our hope and trust in our Creator. God says in Ezekiel 18, "Do I take any pleasure in the death of the wicked? declares the Sovereign LORD. Rather, am I not pleased when they turn from their ways and live?" So why is it so hard to have faith? Why is it so hard to have trust? Why, when we step out of the boat and onto the water, do we take a few steps and then sink? (Matthew 14).
Simply put: we sink because we're human. Seriously. I'm not just being coy. We sink because we're human. We sink because we have doubts. We sink because even those with what we might call the "deepest" faith struggle with their identities in God. The important part, though, is that we keep getting out of the boat. My favorite part of the story of Peter walking on the water in the storm with Christ is that at least Peter got out of the boat. What about those other disciples watching who just sat in the boat? What do you think they were thinking when they saw Peter take those steps? Do you think they even noticed, or were they so focused on the fact that the storm was battering their boat so badly that they were in danger of sinking?
Jesus rebukes Peter for not having enough faith to stay on the waves, but I don't think Jesus means it in anger or in disappointment. I think he means it to be a teaching moment. Our faith is what gives us the ability to walk on the water. Our fear -- our human nature -- is what makes us sink.
I've been listening to a lot of music by the band "Brand New" this week, and I discovered from their album, "God and the Devil Raging Inside of Me" the song "Jesus Christ." The song is, for lack of a better word, a prayer. At one point in the song, the singer says, "At the gates does Thomas ask to see my hands" and another line that I like is, "I'm scared that I'll get scared and I swear I'll try and nail you back up." We all doubt. We all have reservations, even when we think our faith is deeper than it's ever been. It's okay to be honest with ourselves (and with God) that we've had thoughts of turning and running instead of trust in God. I think God expects that. I think God understands that. I also think that God waits for us with his open arms, waiting to welcome back all of us prodigals into His embrace.
Faith and trust are hard. Trust is something we earn and learn to do. Faith is something we already have that we learn to acknowledge and see God working through. One is a process itself. The other calls for a process.
Getting out of the boat isn't easy. It's scary. Maybe even terrifying. But you get out of the boat to get on the water because it's on the water that we encounter Jesus. And Jesus waits for us on those waves in the midst of the storm. We can take those steps; we can walk on the water with Jesus, but only if we get out of the boat first. My hope and prayer for you this week is that you are able to discern how God is calling you through the storms in your lives, whatever your storm might be. I hope you are able to trust God, recognizing that faith makes trust possible.
Not easy. Possible.
Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki
PS: incidentally, if you're looking for a great read on Matthew 14, I recommend John Ortbergs, "If you want to walk on water, you have to get out of the boat." It's a great book for an adult study and an easy read on how we identify what our boat is and how we learn to step out of it to the water where Jesus is.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Speaking Christian
Some thoughts after reading CNN's belief blog: http://religion.blogs.cnn.com/2011/07/31/do-you-speak-christian/
First, my disclaimer: I do occassionally drift through CNN's belief blog to read what other people are saying about religion. What I've learned not to do is read the comments because this blog has become a breeding ground for angry athiests. The belief blog is not a good forum for actual intelligent religiously-themed conversation. So I'm not advocating this blog: I'm merely presenting some of my thoughts on the issue of "speaking Christian."
It's an interesting point: that people who use "Christian terms" like rapture, born again, saved, salvation, justified, redeemed, etc. may not actually understand what they're saying. And I like the phrase at the end, "spiritual snobbery."
But the article got me thinking. Do I speak Christian?
I hope not. I know that probably sounds weird, coming from a pastor, but I hope you'll understand why I say "I hope not" by the time you're done reading this blog entry. So stay with me :)
A pastor friend and mentor of mine talked about the question of being saved once. He was being examined by his Presbytery pending his ordination and they asked him if he was saved and he said he didn't know. His point was that God knows and we don't, and this is true for good reason. We're not supposed to know if we're saved. If we have to worry about it, we're missing God's promise in election (a theological topic for another blog at another time). I've never said to anyone that I'm saved. At least I don't think I have. I'm pretty sure I haven't. I do remember being on a bus once and overhearing a conversation between two men in which one asked the other, "Are you saved?"
And I remember being uncomfortable. I don't remember how the other guy answered, but I remember the question. And I remember people asking me at one point or another, "Are you saved?" My answer is, "Jesus died for me because He loves me" because quite frankly, that's what really matters to me. Whether I'm saved or not is Jesus' business.
I try not to "speak Christian" for various reasons. One, I think it makes people uncomfortable. I do have a lot of non-Christian friends and once and a while I hear things like, "It's so cool that your a pastor." To some of my friends, I'm a novelty, which is weird to say, but I really am the closest they've ever come to interacting with a pastor. I try to speak the same to everyone. Obviously I talk to my congregation a little bit different from how I talk to my friends. But for the most part (and my friends and people in my congregation can attest to this), I try to speak in the same voice whether I'm at a church potluck or a Fourth of July party with my best friends.
Two, I don't see the real point to speaking Christian. My hope is that actions speak louder than words. My hope is that people see the way I live my life and how my interpersonal relations function and are able to see God working through me. Too often, language gets in the way of the Good News of the Gospel.
At the risk of ruffling feathers, the truth is that I actually flinch inside when someone talks about "when they were saved." I don't believe there is a moment where someone is actually saved. I believe the moment a person was saved was when Jesus died and was resurrected from the dead all because of how much He loves us. The moment people are talking about when they talk about being saved is the moment they first felt Christ really come alive in their own lives. It's not really being saved; it's being awakened. It's being renewed. I believe there is a difference.
What really stood out to me in the Belief Blog was this idea of using a "Christian vocabulary" and not knowing (or forgetting) what the words really mean. What does it mean to be justified? What does it mean to be saved or baptized or in communion with Christ and each other? What does any of it really mean? Religion is easy; theology is hard. I'm a pastor and there are still some theological terms that I'm not super comfortable with, and I think that's par for the course. If we pastors understood all of the theological terms we come across, there would be no room for learning. There always has to be room for learning. That's how we continue to stay real about our faith and how we believe.
We talk a lot about how we talk about our faith in contemporary times. How open should we be around our faith? I think the blog is right when it states that we are bilingual; we speak "social human being" and "religious human being." How can we marry the two so that our life outside of the church is not separated from our life inside of the church? How can we talk about our faith in a way that is accessible not just to the listeners, but to us as well?
A good place to start is with a self-assessment. What do you believe? If it helps, find out if your denomination has creeds or basic statements of faith. If you're Presbyterian, check out our Book of Confessions. That's a great place to go to find out what we believe and to what theology we subscribe. It might even help to write your own statement of faith. Put into words exactly what you believe.
Now think about what you've written (or read). What stands out to you? What aspects of that are more difficult than others? Are there things there that seem easy? Confusing? What words sound overly religious to you?
Read scripture and really think about your own theology. Is your theology rooted in scripture? Theology, by definition, ought to be rooted in scripture.
If we're going to talk about our faith, we have to be able to talk about why we believe certain things. We can't just say "It's in the Bible" or "because that's in the creed we say every Sunday." There has to be an aspect of it that you own.
I believe that God has a plan for me because scripture has a long history of people God taught to make lemonade from lemons. I believe that God has a plan for me because Christ died for me on the cross because he loves me, and why would he do that if he didn't have something awesome in mind for me? I believe that God has a plan for me because as a descendant of Abraham, I am a part of that covenant promise to be blessed to be a blessing others.
Speaking Christian becomes a dangerous thing when we use it to push theology that is not rooted in anything. Learning about our faith and learning why we believe in certain things is how we root our theology. Theology is hard; it doesn't have to be impossible.
I encourage you to write your own statement of faith and really get in touch with what you believe. Do your homework and root your beliefs in scripture. Talk to your pastor or seminary professors or other people in your church about certain concepts that you might be stuck on. Get away from "speaking Christian" and this concept of being "bilingual" and instead, focus on what it means to speak from your heart no matter what you're saying.
Wishing you peace,
Pastor Becki
First, my disclaimer: I do occassionally drift through CNN's belief blog to read what other people are saying about religion. What I've learned not to do is read the comments because this blog has become a breeding ground for angry athiests. The belief blog is not a good forum for actual intelligent religiously-themed conversation. So I'm not advocating this blog: I'm merely presenting some of my thoughts on the issue of "speaking Christian."
It's an interesting point: that people who use "Christian terms" like rapture, born again, saved, salvation, justified, redeemed, etc. may not actually understand what they're saying. And I like the phrase at the end, "spiritual snobbery."
But the article got me thinking. Do I speak Christian?
I hope not. I know that probably sounds weird, coming from a pastor, but I hope you'll understand why I say "I hope not" by the time you're done reading this blog entry. So stay with me :)
A pastor friend and mentor of mine talked about the question of being saved once. He was being examined by his Presbytery pending his ordination and they asked him if he was saved and he said he didn't know. His point was that God knows and we don't, and this is true for good reason. We're not supposed to know if we're saved. If we have to worry about it, we're missing God's promise in election (a theological topic for another blog at another time). I've never said to anyone that I'm saved. At least I don't think I have. I'm pretty sure I haven't. I do remember being on a bus once and overhearing a conversation between two men in which one asked the other, "Are you saved?"
And I remember being uncomfortable. I don't remember how the other guy answered, but I remember the question. And I remember people asking me at one point or another, "Are you saved?" My answer is, "Jesus died for me because He loves me" because quite frankly, that's what really matters to me. Whether I'm saved or not is Jesus' business.
I try not to "speak Christian" for various reasons. One, I think it makes people uncomfortable. I do have a lot of non-Christian friends and once and a while I hear things like, "It's so cool that your a pastor." To some of my friends, I'm a novelty, which is weird to say, but I really am the closest they've ever come to interacting with a pastor. I try to speak the same to everyone. Obviously I talk to my congregation a little bit different from how I talk to my friends. But for the most part (and my friends and people in my congregation can attest to this), I try to speak in the same voice whether I'm at a church potluck or a Fourth of July party with my best friends.
Two, I don't see the real point to speaking Christian. My hope is that actions speak louder than words. My hope is that people see the way I live my life and how my interpersonal relations function and are able to see God working through me. Too often, language gets in the way of the Good News of the Gospel.
At the risk of ruffling feathers, the truth is that I actually flinch inside when someone talks about "when they were saved." I don't believe there is a moment where someone is actually saved. I believe the moment a person was saved was when Jesus died and was resurrected from the dead all because of how much He loves us. The moment people are talking about when they talk about being saved is the moment they first felt Christ really come alive in their own lives. It's not really being saved; it's being awakened. It's being renewed. I believe there is a difference.
What really stood out to me in the Belief Blog was this idea of using a "Christian vocabulary" and not knowing (or forgetting) what the words really mean. What does it mean to be justified? What does it mean to be saved or baptized or in communion with Christ and each other? What does any of it really mean? Religion is easy; theology is hard. I'm a pastor and there are still some theological terms that I'm not super comfortable with, and I think that's par for the course. If we pastors understood all of the theological terms we come across, there would be no room for learning. There always has to be room for learning. That's how we continue to stay real about our faith and how we believe.
We talk a lot about how we talk about our faith in contemporary times. How open should we be around our faith? I think the blog is right when it states that we are bilingual; we speak "social human being" and "religious human being." How can we marry the two so that our life outside of the church is not separated from our life inside of the church? How can we talk about our faith in a way that is accessible not just to the listeners, but to us as well?
A good place to start is with a self-assessment. What do you believe? If it helps, find out if your denomination has creeds or basic statements of faith. If you're Presbyterian, check out our Book of Confessions. That's a great place to go to find out what we believe and to what theology we subscribe. It might even help to write your own statement of faith. Put into words exactly what you believe.
Now think about what you've written (or read). What stands out to you? What aspects of that are more difficult than others? Are there things there that seem easy? Confusing? What words sound overly religious to you?
Read scripture and really think about your own theology. Is your theology rooted in scripture? Theology, by definition, ought to be rooted in scripture.
If we're going to talk about our faith, we have to be able to talk about why we believe certain things. We can't just say "It's in the Bible" or "because that's in the creed we say every Sunday." There has to be an aspect of it that you own.
I believe that God has a plan for me because scripture has a long history of people God taught to make lemonade from lemons. I believe that God has a plan for me because Christ died for me on the cross because he loves me, and why would he do that if he didn't have something awesome in mind for me? I believe that God has a plan for me because as a descendant of Abraham, I am a part of that covenant promise to be blessed to be a blessing others.
Speaking Christian becomes a dangerous thing when we use it to push theology that is not rooted in anything. Learning about our faith and learning why we believe in certain things is how we root our theology. Theology is hard; it doesn't have to be impossible.
I encourage you to write your own statement of faith and really get in touch with what you believe. Do your homework and root your beliefs in scripture. Talk to your pastor or seminary professors or other people in your church about certain concepts that you might be stuck on. Get away from "speaking Christian" and this concept of being "bilingual" and instead, focus on what it means to speak from your heart no matter what you're saying.
Wishing you peace,
Pastor Becki
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Could Use a Little Peace These Days
First, an apology to those that follow my blog. I haven't updated in a while because I've been busy working on some other writing. Most of you have heard of "Rookie," the novel I wrote in high school. These last couple of weeks I've begun the arduous process of ripping through Rookie and rewriting her almost completely. It's a daunting task, and it's been a while since I've stretched my fiction-writing legs, so as I work through that I've neglected my blog-writing duties.
That being said, there are things going on in the world today that I need to speak to. This is not meant to be a statement on politics. I'm not interested in "blame" regarding the right vs. the left and I'm not interested in economic factors. I'm not interested in debating the severity of the issues and spoiler alert: I'm going to be blunt and a little bit angry in this blog post. This isn't my norm: but I think it's called for.
There are days when I wonder if the destiny of the world is to simply blow itself up. As I read and watch the news about the shootings and bombings in Norway, I'm beside myself with the question, "What is going on in the human psyche that is leading people to believe that a bombing or a shooting is the only way to get people's attention?" Have we fallen so far and become so numb that blood shed and violence is the only way we know we still have a pulse? At what point does "peace on earth, goodwill towards men" become our reality?
I spoke about this at some length when a man went to a school board meeting and opened fire (thankfully, no one but the gunman was killed in that incident). It seems like nothing has changed, and I want things TO change. I hate opening up a newspaper or clicking onto CNN.com and reading about some other city that has its hearts and peace of mind shattered. Is it possible that this age of violence is our new reality and we just have to "get used to it?"
With every bone in my body, I hope not.
If we "get used to it" we are no longer breathing. If we "get used to it" we are no longer living creatures. We are no longer capable of the love and compassion that God calls us to. We have to get angry. We have to demand answers and we have to demand whether or not things like what happened in Norway is just our "new norm." It doesn't have to be that way. Remember a comment I've made before: the beauty of reality is that it can be changed.
I want to change this reality. Maybe you do too. Maybe you're even reading this and thinking, "You're right, but what exactly am I supposed to do about it? And what do you, Becki, oh pastor in the middle of a small town in central Illinois, propose to do about it?"
So here's what I'm going to do. First and foremost, I'm going to pray about it because I think our world is in constant need of prayer. But despite what I believe about the power of prayer, prayer by itself is not enough. When Jesus' disciples tell him in Matthew that there are hungry people who need to be sent into town to buy food for themselves, Jesus looks the disciples square in the eye and says: You give them something to eat. Prayer by itself is not enough. At some point, action is required on our part.
So I'm going to write a letter to all the people in my local government that "represent me." And I'm going to ask them what they are doing and what they recommend I do to promote world peace. And I'm going to keep writing to them until I get more than just a mail merge response. I might even make a phone call or two, because I want to know what our government is doing to educate people that there is a way to get people to listen that doesn't involve setting a timer or loading a gun.
I've already done one thing I wanted to do: blog about it. I want to raise awareness that there is a better way to get attention. I know the people in Norway or the would-be-bombers who are up and coming aren't reading my blog, but if we all took the initative to tell people there's a better way, we might realize how powerful word of mouth is. If we all posted on facebook and encouraged everyone we know to post on facebook, "Striving for peace without violence is the only way peace can occur" we might -- might -- see some kind of a chain reaction.
I have this optomism that one day the world can learn to get along. One day world leaders -- and local and national leaders -- will learn that these petty little partisan bickerings that go on are NOT the way to go. They are not striving for world peace. They are striving for more votes. Knock it off, politicians. I would think by now politicians would want to change the American people's perception that politicians are greedy and represent only themselves. My optomism is wearing thin.
I know that we can get to a better place. I know it is possible for us to achieve world peace, but it's a team effort. It takes work and cultivation. It takes everyone -- EVERYONE -- realizing that striving for world peace is not the job of higher of government alone. It's not just the job of Green Peace or the phantom people "out there." Striving for peace is the job of everyone, and it needs to be in order for it to mean anything. And in order for it to mean anything to us, it must mean everything to us. How many more people have to die in order for us to realize that killing people isn't going to solve anything?
I hope you take the time to pray for our world and for peace. I hope you ask the question, "What can I do?" and I hope you seriously think about some things -- however small -- that you can do. What's it going to take for our "never again" (Rowanda, Auschwitz, Darfur) to really mean something? What's it going to take for people like the young man in Norway -- a guy not much older than me -- to realize that the road that leads to violence is not the way to solve problems? And what's it going to take for us to really start loving each other?
I encourage discussion on this post, though I will tell you right now that if you post something politically charged, I will probably delete it. I'm not trying to be political. I'm more...thinking out loud that there must be something that I, as a child of God, can do from my small corner of the world to ensure that I at least am striving for peace. I hope you strive for peace, too.
Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki
That being said, there are things going on in the world today that I need to speak to. This is not meant to be a statement on politics. I'm not interested in "blame" regarding the right vs. the left and I'm not interested in economic factors. I'm not interested in debating the severity of the issues and spoiler alert: I'm going to be blunt and a little bit angry in this blog post. This isn't my norm: but I think it's called for.
There are days when I wonder if the destiny of the world is to simply blow itself up. As I read and watch the news about the shootings and bombings in Norway, I'm beside myself with the question, "What is going on in the human psyche that is leading people to believe that a bombing or a shooting is the only way to get people's attention?" Have we fallen so far and become so numb that blood shed and violence is the only way we know we still have a pulse? At what point does "peace on earth, goodwill towards men" become our reality?
I spoke about this at some length when a man went to a school board meeting and opened fire (thankfully, no one but the gunman was killed in that incident). It seems like nothing has changed, and I want things TO change. I hate opening up a newspaper or clicking onto CNN.com and reading about some other city that has its hearts and peace of mind shattered. Is it possible that this age of violence is our new reality and we just have to "get used to it?"
With every bone in my body, I hope not.
If we "get used to it" we are no longer breathing. If we "get used to it" we are no longer living creatures. We are no longer capable of the love and compassion that God calls us to. We have to get angry. We have to demand answers and we have to demand whether or not things like what happened in Norway is just our "new norm." It doesn't have to be that way. Remember a comment I've made before: the beauty of reality is that it can be changed.
I want to change this reality. Maybe you do too. Maybe you're even reading this and thinking, "You're right, but what exactly am I supposed to do about it? And what do you, Becki, oh pastor in the middle of a small town in central Illinois, propose to do about it?"
So here's what I'm going to do. First and foremost, I'm going to pray about it because I think our world is in constant need of prayer. But despite what I believe about the power of prayer, prayer by itself is not enough. When Jesus' disciples tell him in Matthew that there are hungry people who need to be sent into town to buy food for themselves, Jesus looks the disciples square in the eye and says: You give them something to eat. Prayer by itself is not enough. At some point, action is required on our part.
So I'm going to write a letter to all the people in my local government that "represent me." And I'm going to ask them what they are doing and what they recommend I do to promote world peace. And I'm going to keep writing to them until I get more than just a mail merge response. I might even make a phone call or two, because I want to know what our government is doing to educate people that there is a way to get people to listen that doesn't involve setting a timer or loading a gun.
I've already done one thing I wanted to do: blog about it. I want to raise awareness that there is a better way to get attention. I know the people in Norway or the would-be-bombers who are up and coming aren't reading my blog, but if we all took the initative to tell people there's a better way, we might realize how powerful word of mouth is. If we all posted on facebook and encouraged everyone we know to post on facebook, "Striving for peace without violence is the only way peace can occur" we might -- might -- see some kind of a chain reaction.
I have this optomism that one day the world can learn to get along. One day world leaders -- and local and national leaders -- will learn that these petty little partisan bickerings that go on are NOT the way to go. They are not striving for world peace. They are striving for more votes. Knock it off, politicians. I would think by now politicians would want to change the American people's perception that politicians are greedy and represent only themselves. My optomism is wearing thin.
I know that we can get to a better place. I know it is possible for us to achieve world peace, but it's a team effort. It takes work and cultivation. It takes everyone -- EVERYONE -- realizing that striving for world peace is not the job of higher of government alone. It's not just the job of Green Peace or the phantom people "out there." Striving for peace is the job of everyone, and it needs to be in order for it to mean anything. And in order for it to mean anything to us, it must mean everything to us. How many more people have to die in order for us to realize that killing people isn't going to solve anything?
I hope you take the time to pray for our world and for peace. I hope you ask the question, "What can I do?" and I hope you seriously think about some things -- however small -- that you can do. What's it going to take for our "never again" (Rowanda, Auschwitz, Darfur) to really mean something? What's it going to take for people like the young man in Norway -- a guy not much older than me -- to realize that the road that leads to violence is not the way to solve problems? And what's it going to take for us to really start loving each other?
I encourage discussion on this post, though I will tell you right now that if you post something politically charged, I will probably delete it. I'm not trying to be political. I'm more...thinking out loud that there must be something that I, as a child of God, can do from my small corner of the world to ensure that I at least am striving for peace. I hope you strive for peace, too.
Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki
Saturday, July 2, 2011
A Little of Us in the U.S.
I've been really into the U.S. lately.
I know that sounds weird.
I remember working at my retail job the night of 9/11 and I lost count of the number of people who came in that night looking to buy an American flag (which we didn't have because we only had them for Memorial Day and Fourth of July...September is out of season). And I remember thinking to myself that it was a shame that it took something like terrorism to spark a sense of patriotism in people. Shouldn't we always be that patriotic?
In the nearly ten years since those attacks, my generation has really had a chance to think about what it means for us to be patriots. Few of the people that are within two years of my age remember the political wars of the early 90's, but we all remember where we were on 9/11/01.
There has always been a strange tension between our sense of patriotism and our religion. On the one hand, we wonder why we have to separate them when both are such a deep part of our identity. On the other hand, we read stories all the time about people striving towards a deeper sense of separation between church and state. I look at the American flag in our sanctuary and sometimes think to myself, "Well, if they're taking the Ten Commandments out of the court house, why can't I take the American flag out of the sanctuary?" I say this tongue in cheek, of course, because a large part of biblical history has to do with nationalism; our biblical roots inform us that we can't help but associate our faith and our national pride in the same breath.
I've often wondered about this separation between church and state. I can see in theory where it would be a good thing. America is the great melting pot with people of so many different faiths and no faiths, so there's no way having a "national religion" would be a healthy thing for this country. I've talked about religious pluralsim before, so I'm not going to get into that here, but for the moment I will say this: there really is no such thing as a separation between church and state.
I've gotten into this show "How the States Got Their Shapes" on the history channel and I have to say, I'm really enamoured by it. That's what I mean when I say I've been really into the U.S. lately. I'm realizing how little of my own American history I really know, and I've been learning so much through this show. Watching the show leads me to look other things up. It led me to pick up a biography of James K. Polk (11th president of the United States) at a used bookstore at the shore last week, and it's not as dry as you might think. It's actually really fascinating. Two weeks ago, the show did a special on how religion helped shape the states and there was a moment when I couldn't tell whether the show producers were trying to paint a positive, negative, or neutral view of religion. Towards the end of the episode, I was more convinced that it was the neutral approach, but if you watch the episode you see just how little separation there really is between church and state.
If we are truly people of faith, we cannot separate out the different aspects of our identities. Being people of faith means that we are engaged with the world because that's where we live. We live in the world and we have secular jobs and we have friends of different faiths or no faiths and we watch movies that maybe Jesus would have shunned even though we find them entertaining. It's good to be a patriot (actually, in some ways it's a requirement), but it's not good to be a patriot at the expense of our faith. The converse is also true. It's not good to be people of faith at the expense of our patriotism. There are some branches of faith that completely separate themselves from the secular world and there are some branches that condemn the world for being too separated from faith. To each its own. But for me, my sense of country is connected to my sense of faith. I feel blessed that I live in a country where I can worship God the way I feel called to worship. I feel blessed that I live in a country where I can talk about God wherever I want. I feel blessed that I live in a country where even when there are those who feel blessed to be able to say God is dead, I can look them in the face and say, "God is alive and well and His Spirit is dwelling within me right now."
The scripture passage this week is from Matthew 11 and the verse goes, "To what shall I compare this generation? It is like a group of children in the streets calling to one another, 'We played the flute and you did not dance; we wailed, and you did not mourn." I wonder sometimes if Jesus were to come down to a church in America today, would he look around at the people gathered and ask the same question? "To what shall I compare this generation? We played the flute and you did not dance. I performed a sunset and you didn't pay attention. I gave you comfort and you didn't notice." Sometimes we become so busy trying to keep our faith separate from our secular identites so we don't offend people that we put God in a box that God doesn't want to be in. God wants our faith to permeate every aspect of our being, from our patriotism, to our most intimate relationships, to our most secular jobs.
As you celebrate the Fourth of July, I encourage you to think about how you connect your life of faith to the rest of your life on a daily basis. Is it something you can see easily? Or do you have a hard time focusing on God other than that hour on Sunday morning? I encourage you to consider the ways you might connect the various aspects of your identity more deeply as you strive to live a life in the light of Christ who loves you and keeps you. When God plays the flute, I hope you are able to dance.
May God bless you in your week. Take a moment, whether you as my reader are a person of faith or not, to remember those who have been affected by the wars either past or present and give thanks for those people. I'm remembering especially this weekend my two grandfathers, one who served in the navy, one who served in the national guard, I'm remembering Pastor Jan of my home church who served several terms as a chaplain in Iraq. I'm remembering my friend Ben K. for his service and a collegue David W. who lost his life in Afghanistan. I'm remembering and lifting up my collegue Craig who continues to serve as an army chaplain and for those spoken and unspoken, those I know and don't know, praise God for your courage, your bravery, and your faith.
Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki
I know that sounds weird.
I remember working at my retail job the night of 9/11 and I lost count of the number of people who came in that night looking to buy an American flag (which we didn't have because we only had them for Memorial Day and Fourth of July...September is out of season). And I remember thinking to myself that it was a shame that it took something like terrorism to spark a sense of patriotism in people. Shouldn't we always be that patriotic?
In the nearly ten years since those attacks, my generation has really had a chance to think about what it means for us to be patriots. Few of the people that are within two years of my age remember the political wars of the early 90's, but we all remember where we were on 9/11/01.
There has always been a strange tension between our sense of patriotism and our religion. On the one hand, we wonder why we have to separate them when both are such a deep part of our identity. On the other hand, we read stories all the time about people striving towards a deeper sense of separation between church and state. I look at the American flag in our sanctuary and sometimes think to myself, "Well, if they're taking the Ten Commandments out of the court house, why can't I take the American flag out of the sanctuary?" I say this tongue in cheek, of course, because a large part of biblical history has to do with nationalism; our biblical roots inform us that we can't help but associate our faith and our national pride in the same breath.
I've often wondered about this separation between church and state. I can see in theory where it would be a good thing. America is the great melting pot with people of so many different faiths and no faiths, so there's no way having a "national religion" would be a healthy thing for this country. I've talked about religious pluralsim before, so I'm not going to get into that here, but for the moment I will say this: there really is no such thing as a separation between church and state.
I've gotten into this show "How the States Got Their Shapes" on the history channel and I have to say, I'm really enamoured by it. That's what I mean when I say I've been really into the U.S. lately. I'm realizing how little of my own American history I really know, and I've been learning so much through this show. Watching the show leads me to look other things up. It led me to pick up a biography of James K. Polk (11th president of the United States) at a used bookstore at the shore last week, and it's not as dry as you might think. It's actually really fascinating. Two weeks ago, the show did a special on how religion helped shape the states and there was a moment when I couldn't tell whether the show producers were trying to paint a positive, negative, or neutral view of religion. Towards the end of the episode, I was more convinced that it was the neutral approach, but if you watch the episode you see just how little separation there really is between church and state.
If we are truly people of faith, we cannot separate out the different aspects of our identities. Being people of faith means that we are engaged with the world because that's where we live. We live in the world and we have secular jobs and we have friends of different faiths or no faiths and we watch movies that maybe Jesus would have shunned even though we find them entertaining. It's good to be a patriot (actually, in some ways it's a requirement), but it's not good to be a patriot at the expense of our faith. The converse is also true. It's not good to be people of faith at the expense of our patriotism. There are some branches of faith that completely separate themselves from the secular world and there are some branches that condemn the world for being too separated from faith. To each its own. But for me, my sense of country is connected to my sense of faith. I feel blessed that I live in a country where I can worship God the way I feel called to worship. I feel blessed that I live in a country where I can talk about God wherever I want. I feel blessed that I live in a country where even when there are those who feel blessed to be able to say God is dead, I can look them in the face and say, "God is alive and well and His Spirit is dwelling within me right now."
The scripture passage this week is from Matthew 11 and the verse goes, "To what shall I compare this generation? It is like a group of children in the streets calling to one another, 'We played the flute and you did not dance; we wailed, and you did not mourn." I wonder sometimes if Jesus were to come down to a church in America today, would he look around at the people gathered and ask the same question? "To what shall I compare this generation? We played the flute and you did not dance. I performed a sunset and you didn't pay attention. I gave you comfort and you didn't notice." Sometimes we become so busy trying to keep our faith separate from our secular identites so we don't offend people that we put God in a box that God doesn't want to be in. God wants our faith to permeate every aspect of our being, from our patriotism, to our most intimate relationships, to our most secular jobs.
As you celebrate the Fourth of July, I encourage you to think about how you connect your life of faith to the rest of your life on a daily basis. Is it something you can see easily? Or do you have a hard time focusing on God other than that hour on Sunday morning? I encourage you to consider the ways you might connect the various aspects of your identity more deeply as you strive to live a life in the light of Christ who loves you and keeps you. When God plays the flute, I hope you are able to dance.
May God bless you in your week. Take a moment, whether you as my reader are a person of faith or not, to remember those who have been affected by the wars either past or present and give thanks for those people. I'm remembering especially this weekend my two grandfathers, one who served in the navy, one who served in the national guard, I'm remembering Pastor Jan of my home church who served several terms as a chaplain in Iraq. I'm remembering my friend Ben K. for his service and a collegue David W. who lost his life in Afghanistan. I'm remembering and lifting up my collegue Craig who continues to serve as an army chaplain and for those spoken and unspoken, those I know and don't know, praise God for your courage, your bravery, and your faith.
Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki
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