If you miss Maundy Thursday and Good Friday services, you miss a crucial part of the Easter story. As we roll into Holy Week tomorrow and the final days of Lent, I encourage you to go to the Maundy Thursday and Good Friday services that you have available to you so that you can participate in the parts of the story that you won't hear in Sunday worship. The Passion Story is incredible and yes the triumphant entry (triumphant? I question if this is the appropriate description.) into Jerusalem and the actual story of the stone rolling away are important. But I would argue that what happens in the upper room, what happens in the Garden of Gethsemane, what happens before the Sanhedrin, and what happens before Pilate are equally as important.
That's my soap-box moment.
I've been reading the Passion story in the Gospels this week and watching Jesus Christ Superstar and Godspell ad nauseum (as I do every Easter) and as I was reading through Matthew, one phrase really stuck with me. "Pilate was amazed."
Pilate has never met Jesus Christ, but I'm certain he had heard of him. King Herod also heard of Jesus Christ and demands miracles. Pilate doesn't demand miracles. What he does require is a reason to condemn Jesus of Nazareth. Pilate, prefect from Rome, is charged with deciding what to do with this Jesus of Nazareth. Does he simply go along with the schemes of the religious leaders? Does he release Jesus on the grounds that there's nothing really concrete to suggest that Jesus really is trying to overthrow the Roman government?
As an interesting side note, even Pilate's wife tries to weigh in on his decision. In the book of Matthew, Pilate's wife goes to him and asks him not to have anything to do with "the innocent man" since he was giving her nightmares. Ultimately Pilate does listen to his wife and he "washes his hands" of the whole thing, leaving it up to the responsibility of the religious leaders to condemn him to death.
But back to this phrase "Pilate was amazed." That stuck with me this week while I read through Matthew. Throughout the gospel, people are amazed by what Jesus does and says. The disciples are amazed when Jesus calms a storm in Matthew 8. The crowds are amazed in Matthew 9 when Jesus exorcises a demon and they are amazed in Matthew 13 when Jesus speaks in the temple with such authority. Pilate is amazed by Jesus when Jesus stays so calm and does very little to plead his case away from the inevitability of death. Jesus answers none of the charges against him in Matthew 27 and "the governor was greatly amazed."
When was the last time you were amazed by Jesus Christ?
So much of this Easter season is about routine. We expect certain things about this season to be the same. Our church and family traditions are largely the same every year, and there is something to be said for sameness. I know I get uncomfortable when you mess with my family traditions (and since my grandmother died in 2008 and especially since I moved in August, there's not a single family tradition for me that hasn't been changed, so I have to admit on a sidenote I'm extremely glad my family will be coming to Illinois on Easter Sunday because I don't think I could emotionally deal with them not being here that day). We come to expect certain things about Easter when truth be told, there's not a single thing about the Easter story that was expected.
Which on one level is odd. Jesus tells the disciples he will be crucified and raise from the dead in three days, yet they arrive at the tomb still expecting the body to be lying there waiting for the proper burial annointing. They expect certain things and what they find surpasses their expectations. He is risen! He is risen indeed!
So don't expect the expected. Think about what Easter means to you and what part of Easter is, for you, unexpected. It's good to be amazed. It's good to allow yourself that space to be amazed. During this Holy Week, let yourself be amazed by what's happening. This Easter, as you celebrate the event that separates Christianity from our Jewish heritage, be amazed by Christ. There's a child-like wonder in the concept of being amazed.
You have a similar choice to make: What do you do with Jesus of Nazareth? Do you accept Him as a part of your routine or do you open yourself up to be amazed by Him in whom all things are held together?
Think about it this way: If Pilate -- a Roman governor, not a pacifist, and by no means someone who believed that Jesus was the Son of God -- could be amazed by Jesus, how much more should we be amazed by all the awesome things Jesus did and continues to do?
Here's hoping you find the amazement of Christ in unexpected places and may you have a very blessed Easter,
Pastor Becki
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Sunday, April 10, 2011
When Size Doesn't Matter
I was visiting a homebound member of my church this past week and we got into talking about death and dying. She is a woman of devout faith, but she's reached a point in her battle with cancer where she's not really sure why God is making her hang on. As we were talking, I happened to notice the poinsettia in her living room.
The date is April 7 and there is still a poinsettia sitting in her living room.
Now, mind you, this poinsettia is not looking even the least bit droopy. I looked at it for a moment, surprised that not a single red leaf looked like it was ready to fall to its death in the plate under the foil-wrapped planter. So I asked her about it.
"Most people don't really know how to care for poinsettias," she said. "The most common mistake most people make with poinsettias is that they over-water them. I wait until the soil is bone-dry and then I give it just a little water and that's all it needs."
I thought about that poinsettia, and I've been thinking about that poinsettia since that visit and its just amazing to me how something so simple can take such good care of a part of God's creation.
Often times we think it's the complicated things that make the most sense. Think about it. When we are looking for a miracle, we're looking for fireworks and brimstone. We're looking for magic wands and fairy dust. The stuff that I find in the Bible informs me that God doesn't do much work in loud places. When Elijah is hiding in the damp caves from an angry king and queen, scripture tells us there was a great wind, and then an earth quake, and then a fire, but the Lord wasn't in any of these things. In I Kings 19:12, scripture reads, "And after the fire came a genlte whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave." The Lord was in that gentle whisper. In 2 Kings when Naaman, a commander in the army of Aram, goes to Elisha to be cure of his leprosy, he's actually offended when Elisha's messengers tell him that to cure his skin problem he has to wash in the Jordan River seven times. "You could have just called on the name of yorur God," Naaman protests, "and I would have been healed." But that's not what God's instructions were. So Namman finally does what he's told and his skin problem clears up. Incredible. In the New Testament, a woman fights her way through a crowd and touches Jesus' cloak. She fesses up to her actions when Jesus calls out to the crowd to find out who touched him, and she tells him she knew if she could only touch his cloak, she could be cured of her health problems.
This is how God works: in the stillness and in the quiet. Miracles are not big and flashy. They are not accompanied by fanfare or fireworks, although the result of miracles often makes us wish we could follow up the miracle with those things. Miracles are blessings from God that often come from unexpected places with an unexpected amount of stillness. We don't expect the savior of the world to come in the form of a baby in the night and we certainly don't expect him to then allow himself to die on the cross. But that's what happens. Our faith story is rooted in the fact that both of these things happen, actually. It's pretty incredible to me how as almighty as God is, that's how quietly most of God's miracles happen.
The fact that the poinsettia was still thriving was astonishing to me. I've never seen one this late in April still look like it looked Christmas Eve. And yet there it was, looking as fresh and as well-kempt as ever. All she did, this member of my church said, was check the soil and when it was bone dry, she would give it just a little bit of water. Nothing else. No fanfare, no fireworks. Just a little water on bone-dry soil. If we stopped always looking for God in the big things and started to take time to notice how present and incredible God is in the simple, small things, we might find that God really is doing some incredible and amazing things in our lives. My hope and prayer for you today is that God helps you to take a little time out of your life to find God in the small, simple things. See God in the mundane. Hear God in the silence. Feel God in the stillness. Know that the Spirit of God dwells within you and is always working in you and through you.
Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki
The date is April 7 and there is still a poinsettia sitting in her living room.
Now, mind you, this poinsettia is not looking even the least bit droopy. I looked at it for a moment, surprised that not a single red leaf looked like it was ready to fall to its death in the plate under the foil-wrapped planter. So I asked her about it.
"Most people don't really know how to care for poinsettias," she said. "The most common mistake most people make with poinsettias is that they over-water them. I wait until the soil is bone-dry and then I give it just a little water and that's all it needs."
I thought about that poinsettia, and I've been thinking about that poinsettia since that visit and its just amazing to me how something so simple can take such good care of a part of God's creation.
Often times we think it's the complicated things that make the most sense. Think about it. When we are looking for a miracle, we're looking for fireworks and brimstone. We're looking for magic wands and fairy dust. The stuff that I find in the Bible informs me that God doesn't do much work in loud places. When Elijah is hiding in the damp caves from an angry king and queen, scripture tells us there was a great wind, and then an earth quake, and then a fire, but the Lord wasn't in any of these things. In I Kings 19:12, scripture reads, "And after the fire came a genlte whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave." The Lord was in that gentle whisper. In 2 Kings when Naaman, a commander in the army of Aram, goes to Elisha to be cure of his leprosy, he's actually offended when Elisha's messengers tell him that to cure his skin problem he has to wash in the Jordan River seven times. "You could have just called on the name of yorur God," Naaman protests, "and I would have been healed." But that's not what God's instructions were. So Namman finally does what he's told and his skin problem clears up. Incredible. In the New Testament, a woman fights her way through a crowd and touches Jesus' cloak. She fesses up to her actions when Jesus calls out to the crowd to find out who touched him, and she tells him she knew if she could only touch his cloak, she could be cured of her health problems.
This is how God works: in the stillness and in the quiet. Miracles are not big and flashy. They are not accompanied by fanfare or fireworks, although the result of miracles often makes us wish we could follow up the miracle with those things. Miracles are blessings from God that often come from unexpected places with an unexpected amount of stillness. We don't expect the savior of the world to come in the form of a baby in the night and we certainly don't expect him to then allow himself to die on the cross. But that's what happens. Our faith story is rooted in the fact that both of these things happen, actually. It's pretty incredible to me how as almighty as God is, that's how quietly most of God's miracles happen.
The fact that the poinsettia was still thriving was astonishing to me. I've never seen one this late in April still look like it looked Christmas Eve. And yet there it was, looking as fresh and as well-kempt as ever. All she did, this member of my church said, was check the soil and when it was bone dry, she would give it just a little bit of water. Nothing else. No fanfare, no fireworks. Just a little water on bone-dry soil. If we stopped always looking for God in the big things and started to take time to notice how present and incredible God is in the simple, small things, we might find that God really is doing some incredible and amazing things in our lives. My hope and prayer for you today is that God helps you to take a little time out of your life to find God in the small, simple things. See God in the mundane. Hear God in the silence. Feel God in the stillness. Know that the Spirit of God dwells within you and is always working in you and through you.
Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki
Friday, April 1, 2011
Living in Community
Throughout the season of Lent, my church is working through a study on the beatitudes. Our focus is on the basics of the Matthean version: what do they mean inherently and what do they mean for our lives? The beatitudes are the prologue to the Sermon on the Mount and they set the stage for what is to come: how do we live as a Christian community?
I’ve been reflecting on this concept a lot lately. What does it mean for us to live as a Christian community? What does it mean to live as a community in general? The beatitudes give us a lot to think about it in terms of what it takes to be blessed: be poor in spirit, allow yourself to mourn, do what needs to be done even if it means being persecuted and judged for it. Better to be judged here on earth than by our heavenly father. Matthew’s audience is made up of a group of baby Christians: people who are a newly formed Christian community. This is an audience thirsty for stories that are foundational to their faith that tell them how to live and act within their community in relationship to the outside world. When we look at the beatitudes in that light, we can see the little personality traits that Matthew hopes we as Christians exhibit.
Living in community is tough. Some of us thrive on being around people; we feed off of each other’s energy. Some of us can only take being around other people for so long before our anxiety levels rise up to critical mass.
In his book Life Together, Dietrich Bonhoeffer (Christian writer and theologian murdered in the Holocaust) wrote, “Christianity means community through Jesus Christ and in Jesus Christ. No Christian community is more or less than this” (pg. 21). He adds later that those who are afraid of being alone should beware community and those who can’t stand community should beware of being alone. Living the Christian life is about living in balance. We act in community and support one another by being a part of the community because God created us to be communal creatures. God creates the animals and Eve so that Adam won’t be alone because while God calls everything in His creation good, the one not-good thing is that man should be alone. We were not created to be alone, and yet Bonhoeffer warns that we should not seek out community just because we can’t handle being alone. There is a time and place for solitude. As an introvert, I enjoy my solitude but I know myself well enough to know that eventually I have to break out of the solitude to seek out community. This is living life in balance. Sometimes I do it better than other times, but I’m usually pretty good about getting myself to a community when I feel the need for a communal support. Sometimes even going to the gym is getting that “people fix.”
I digress.
This communal nature is why we worship corporately in the Presbyterian Church. I know there will come a Sunday where it is just so beautiful outside that you can’t help but go to the golf course or the beach. You might encounter God in those places, though I’m forced to wonder if you’re really calling on God’s name or not when you say His name on the golf course. But nothing compares to the way we encounter Christ when we worship together and stand together as a community through and in Jesus Christ. Community is so important. It is how we allow each other to support each other. It is only through community that we can be a blessing to others and also balance that with giving each other space to be a blessing for us as well. As a community, we hold each other accountable. We need to be blessed as much as we need to be a blessing.
How are you living in community? How are you supporting your faith community? Are there ways that your community of faith can encourage you in your walk with Christ? I encourage you and lift you up in prayer as a part of my community of faith, whether I know you by name or not. May you do the same for your faith community and for me.
Yours in Christ,Pastor Becki
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Japan
If you're like me, you've been watching (and reading) the news closely and following the stories about the disaster in Japan. I live in a place where I have no idea what our brothers and sisters are going through and so it's completely out of my frame of reference. Actually, it's out of most of our frames of reference.
At a Presbytery meeting yesterday, we took an offering that gets donated to the Presbyterian Disaster Assistance program, which raises money to fund relief projects in places around the world that need it. The woman announcing the offering and its purpose reminded us that the money we donated to this program last year -- and the money we donate each year to the One Great Hour of Sharing fundraiser -- is the fund that the PDA is tapping into now to help Japan. It's a tangible way to see that the money we give doesn't just disappear into a vacuum. It's actually being used.
I must admit, I don't know a whole lot about the PDA, but I do know that the work they do is absolutely necessary, as is the money we provide through One Great Hour of Sharing. When this fundraiser, which comes up every year during the season of Lent, was announced on Sunday during worship, the man announcing it reminded the people that giving was down last year from the year before, and that's been the steady trend. I'm not sure if we'll see a reversal of that this year with Japan covering the news, but I do know that people all over the world are wondering what's going to happen next. Will Japan face a nuclear melt down? From the depths of our souls, we hope not, but the fear is there.
I haven't heard anybody asking where God is in the midst of this. Some may think the question isn't there because with all the crap going on, people are tired of asking. Others may say that we don't ask the question anymore because news like this doesn't shock us anymore; this kind of news is just a part of our new norm. The best thing I heard was from a fellow pastor who said she doesn't hear too many people asking where God is because we know where God is; God is weeping over His children of all walks of life, regardless of their beliefs. God hears the cries of human suffering and God weeps with those who must endure suffering. God, my friend said, doesn't take a back seat when suffering happens; God steps into the driver's seat to steer while we cover our faces and cry out, "God, o God, why have you forsaken me?"
What I do hear is people asking what they can do. The PDA website has what they call a "GAP" program that we can access when we're asking how we can help. We can Give, Act, and Pray. Above all, pray. Give or Act as you are able, but keep our brothers and sisters in prayer. Keep loved ones in prayer. Keep friends in prayer. Keep a nameless, faceless human being in prayer and in your prayer, remind them that in the midst of mourning, God is there. In times of crisis and disaster, God is there. Wherever people are, God is there, whether we notice Him or not. It's my hope that we notice Him.
My thoughts and prayers are with the people of Japan and with the loved ones and friends of people in Japan who are living in other places, that they might find comfort and peace in this time of trial. I pray for God's continued presence and mercies to run deep so that we realize that the well-spring of grace will never run dry.
Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki
At a Presbytery meeting yesterday, we took an offering that gets donated to the Presbyterian Disaster Assistance program, which raises money to fund relief projects in places around the world that need it. The woman announcing the offering and its purpose reminded us that the money we donated to this program last year -- and the money we donate each year to the One Great Hour of Sharing fundraiser -- is the fund that the PDA is tapping into now to help Japan. It's a tangible way to see that the money we give doesn't just disappear into a vacuum. It's actually being used.
I must admit, I don't know a whole lot about the PDA, but I do know that the work they do is absolutely necessary, as is the money we provide through One Great Hour of Sharing. When this fundraiser, which comes up every year during the season of Lent, was announced on Sunday during worship, the man announcing it reminded the people that giving was down last year from the year before, and that's been the steady trend. I'm not sure if we'll see a reversal of that this year with Japan covering the news, but I do know that people all over the world are wondering what's going to happen next. Will Japan face a nuclear melt down? From the depths of our souls, we hope not, but the fear is there.
I haven't heard anybody asking where God is in the midst of this. Some may think the question isn't there because with all the crap going on, people are tired of asking. Others may say that we don't ask the question anymore because news like this doesn't shock us anymore; this kind of news is just a part of our new norm. The best thing I heard was from a fellow pastor who said she doesn't hear too many people asking where God is because we know where God is; God is weeping over His children of all walks of life, regardless of their beliefs. God hears the cries of human suffering and God weeps with those who must endure suffering. God, my friend said, doesn't take a back seat when suffering happens; God steps into the driver's seat to steer while we cover our faces and cry out, "God, o God, why have you forsaken me?"
What I do hear is people asking what they can do. The PDA website has what they call a "GAP" program that we can access when we're asking how we can help. We can Give, Act, and Pray. Above all, pray. Give or Act as you are able, but keep our brothers and sisters in prayer. Keep loved ones in prayer. Keep friends in prayer. Keep a nameless, faceless human being in prayer and in your prayer, remind them that in the midst of mourning, God is there. In times of crisis and disaster, God is there. Wherever people are, God is there, whether we notice Him or not. It's my hope that we notice Him.
My thoughts and prayers are with the people of Japan and with the loved ones and friends of people in Japan who are living in other places, that they might find comfort and peace in this time of trial. I pray for God's continued presence and mercies to run deep so that we realize that the well-spring of grace will never run dry.
Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Daylight Savings Time
I'm not a morning person these days by any stretch of the imagination, but on the morning of Daylight Savings Time when we "spring ahead," I'm particuarly grouchy. I like waking up with the sun, not before it.
The real problem is that I don't usually sleep well the night we actually change the clocks. It's not so bad in the fall because I know if the alarm on my phone decides to commit mutiny and not work, I have an hour to fool around with. In the springtime, however, if my alarm doesn't go off, I could be in trouble because then I'm running an hour late. Thus, the night we change the clocks I worry about my phone not changing like it's supposed to, and then I don't get up on time, and then I'm late for church, and I'm the pastor so you can see how that would be a problem.
(remember my post about worrying? This is what I mean by taking my own advice)
So I don't sleep well the night we change the clocks. The result this morning was I ended up waking up about ten minutes before my alarm actually was scheduled to go off, and I was delighted to look over and see that my phone had actually changed over (it always does, like a good phone). I laid in bed, in the dark, wishing I had that extra hour and pining for the fall when we get to "fall back" and gain an hour of sleep.
And then I heard something. Something I haven't really heard in a while. In the stillness of the dark, early morning, I heard birds outside my window, singing.
Praise God for the birds. It was the birds this morning that made me find the silver lining in my Daylight Savings Time cloud. DST means spring is coming. DST means we're almost done with being nervous about whether or not we'll have another blizzard before the summer. The flowers are about to (and some already are) showing their sprouts and pretty soon some green will find its way back onto the barren trees. The yearly resurrection of everything that vanished in October, from birds to the bees to the flowers, is slowly making its way back to our world. Suddenly DST becomes a beautiful thing.
That doesn't mean I'm any more awake now than I was an hour ago when I got up, but I'm thankful for the birds that were singing outside my window. It reminded me that God is good and despite getting up before the sun, God is there even in the wee hours of the morning.
Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki
The real problem is that I don't usually sleep well the night we actually change the clocks. It's not so bad in the fall because I know if the alarm on my phone decides to commit mutiny and not work, I have an hour to fool around with. In the springtime, however, if my alarm doesn't go off, I could be in trouble because then I'm running an hour late. Thus, the night we change the clocks I worry about my phone not changing like it's supposed to, and then I don't get up on time, and then I'm late for church, and I'm the pastor so you can see how that would be a problem.
(remember my post about worrying? This is what I mean by taking my own advice)
So I don't sleep well the night we change the clocks. The result this morning was I ended up waking up about ten minutes before my alarm actually was scheduled to go off, and I was delighted to look over and see that my phone had actually changed over (it always does, like a good phone). I laid in bed, in the dark, wishing I had that extra hour and pining for the fall when we get to "fall back" and gain an hour of sleep.
And then I heard something. Something I haven't really heard in a while. In the stillness of the dark, early morning, I heard birds outside my window, singing.
Praise God for the birds. It was the birds this morning that made me find the silver lining in my Daylight Savings Time cloud. DST means spring is coming. DST means we're almost done with being nervous about whether or not we'll have another blizzard before the summer. The flowers are about to (and some already are) showing their sprouts and pretty soon some green will find its way back onto the barren trees. The yearly resurrection of everything that vanished in October, from birds to the bees to the flowers, is slowly making its way back to our world. Suddenly DST becomes a beautiful thing.
That doesn't mean I'm any more awake now than I was an hour ago when I got up, but I'm thankful for the birds that were singing outside my window. It reminded me that God is good and despite getting up before the sun, God is there even in the wee hours of the morning.
Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Worry-wart
Yeah I am. I admit it. I worry about stuff. I worry about everything. I've always been a worrier, and I come from a very long line of professional worriers. The pay and the benefits are awful, but it's a full-time gig.
I preached about this on Sunday when I preached from Matthew 6. It was one of those sermons that pastors preach to the congregation, but really it's a sermon to ourselves. That happens sometimes. We intend for our sermons to reach the masses, but sometimes it's we pastors ourselves who really need to hear what the Spirit is speaking through us. This Sunday, the Spirit was telling to stop worry about stuff I can't control and just focus on living my life as God calls me to live.
That is so hard to do!!! Sometimes the stuff we worry about is legit, meaning we really should worry about it. It's easy enough to say, 'Well, it's in God's hands' as if that truly makes the worry go away. As human beings, we are conditioned to worry, so becoming non-worriers is really a matter of reconditioning.
So how do we recondition ourselves to become non-worriers?
Here again, I'm writing this more for me because I've still got a lot on my mind and apparently I didn't take myself seriously when I said it the first time last Sunday.
We recondition ourselves by taking a proactive approach to facing worry head on. Using money as an example -- because it's getting deeper into tax season and in the present state of the economy, that's an area most of us struggle with -- here's how the thought process can go:
Step One: Naming the emotion and the thing causing that emotion.
Example: I am feeling anxious. The cause of my anxiety is money.
Step Two: Brainstorming ways to control the cause of the worry.
Example: I'm feeling anxious about money. What can I do about it? I can create a budget that shows me where my money is going, how I'm using it, and how successful (or unsuccessful) I am at saving it. Once I have a physical way to see my income and expenses, I can brainstorm new ways to save money in the places I can control (get a lower-priced cell phone plan, walk instead of driving to save $ on gas, call credit card companies to see about lowering monthly payments, but watch out for interest that makes you pay more in the long run).
Step Three: Put a verbal phrase to reality.
Example: In reality, there are some aspects of the income and expenses that I can change. There are some that I can't. I have to accept that and take a proactive approach to the things I can change.
Step Four: Pray about it.
Example: Gracious God, creator of all things, help me to remember that anything I have in this life is only mine for a little while. Encourage me and strengthen me as I strive to have serenity to accep the things I cannot change, the courage to change what I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. God all things are yours. I am yours. Help me to see all the ways that I am truly blessed. Amen.
Step Five: Move on.
You've faced it. You've prayed about it. Now move on with your life.
It's a process, like anything else. It takes work. But it's a simple way to look at reconditioning ourselves to stop worrying about things we have no control over. There will always be things that are out of our control. It's justa fact of life. That's the reality of the universe. God's in control, not us. As long as we continue to try to control things we have no control over, we will continue to be plagued by chronic anxiety.
Like I said, in some ways I'm preaching more to myself than to you. That being said, maybe you'll still find this helpful.
Christ has given us this promise that no matter what road we're walking, we're not going at it alone. In John 14, Jesus tells the disciples that he's going somewhere they can't follow. They will, however, follow soon. Thomas pipes up, "We don't know where you're going. How can we possibly know the way without you?" Jesus says, "I am the Way." For a while after Christ ascended back into Heaven, the new sect that would eventually become Christianity was called "The Way." In John 14, Jesus promised that as long as we walk in The Way, we will never be alone because the "advocate," the Holy Spirit, walks with us, teaching us what we need to know. Think about the inspirational story "Footprints" (search for it on Google if you don't know it). Sometimes we only see one set of foot prints, and it can feel pretty lonely when we forget that when we see one set of footprints, it's because God carries us.
Faith and trust should be easy, but they're not. They're things we have to cultivate and condition ourselves with. When we have that spirit of simplicty and cultivate that spirit of thanksgiving, and when we take a moment to really see all the ways that we are truly blessed, we realize that God does keep that promise to give us what we need.
God created us in love, taking the time and care to form each and every one of us piece by piece by piece. We do the best we can with what we have been given, and that's all we can do.
May God grant you peace of mind and give you courage as you strive to cultivate a spirit of thanksgiving and contentment.
I'll be right there with you, struggling side by side with you, praying with you.
Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki
I preached about this on Sunday when I preached from Matthew 6. It was one of those sermons that pastors preach to the congregation, but really it's a sermon to ourselves. That happens sometimes. We intend for our sermons to reach the masses, but sometimes it's we pastors ourselves who really need to hear what the Spirit is speaking through us. This Sunday, the Spirit was telling to stop worry about stuff I can't control and just focus on living my life as God calls me to live.
That is so hard to do!!! Sometimes the stuff we worry about is legit, meaning we really should worry about it. It's easy enough to say, 'Well, it's in God's hands' as if that truly makes the worry go away. As human beings, we are conditioned to worry, so becoming non-worriers is really a matter of reconditioning.
So how do we recondition ourselves to become non-worriers?
Here again, I'm writing this more for me because I've still got a lot on my mind and apparently I didn't take myself seriously when I said it the first time last Sunday.
We recondition ourselves by taking a proactive approach to facing worry head on. Using money as an example -- because it's getting deeper into tax season and in the present state of the economy, that's an area most of us struggle with -- here's how the thought process can go:
Step One: Naming the emotion and the thing causing that emotion.
Example: I am feeling anxious. The cause of my anxiety is money.
Step Two: Brainstorming ways to control the cause of the worry.
Example: I'm feeling anxious about money. What can I do about it? I can create a budget that shows me where my money is going, how I'm using it, and how successful (or unsuccessful) I am at saving it. Once I have a physical way to see my income and expenses, I can brainstorm new ways to save money in the places I can control (get a lower-priced cell phone plan, walk instead of driving to save $ on gas, call credit card companies to see about lowering monthly payments, but watch out for interest that makes you pay more in the long run).
Step Three: Put a verbal phrase to reality.
Example: In reality, there are some aspects of the income and expenses that I can change. There are some that I can't. I have to accept that and take a proactive approach to the things I can change.
Step Four: Pray about it.
Example: Gracious God, creator of all things, help me to remember that anything I have in this life is only mine for a little while. Encourage me and strengthen me as I strive to have serenity to accep the things I cannot change, the courage to change what I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. God all things are yours. I am yours. Help me to see all the ways that I am truly blessed. Amen.
Step Five: Move on.
You've faced it. You've prayed about it. Now move on with your life.
It's a process, like anything else. It takes work. But it's a simple way to look at reconditioning ourselves to stop worrying about things we have no control over. There will always be things that are out of our control. It's justa fact of life. That's the reality of the universe. God's in control, not us. As long as we continue to try to control things we have no control over, we will continue to be plagued by chronic anxiety.
Like I said, in some ways I'm preaching more to myself than to you. That being said, maybe you'll still find this helpful.
Christ has given us this promise that no matter what road we're walking, we're not going at it alone. In John 14, Jesus tells the disciples that he's going somewhere they can't follow. They will, however, follow soon. Thomas pipes up, "We don't know where you're going. How can we possibly know the way without you?" Jesus says, "I am the Way." For a while after Christ ascended back into Heaven, the new sect that would eventually become Christianity was called "The Way." In John 14, Jesus promised that as long as we walk in The Way, we will never be alone because the "advocate," the Holy Spirit, walks with us, teaching us what we need to know. Think about the inspirational story "Footprints" (search for it on Google if you don't know it). Sometimes we only see one set of foot prints, and it can feel pretty lonely when we forget that when we see one set of footprints, it's because God carries us.
Faith and trust should be easy, but they're not. They're things we have to cultivate and condition ourselves with. When we have that spirit of simplicty and cultivate that spirit of thanksgiving, and when we take a moment to really see all the ways that we are truly blessed, we realize that God does keep that promise to give us what we need.
God created us in love, taking the time and care to form each and every one of us piece by piece by piece. We do the best we can with what we have been given, and that's all we can do.
May God grant you peace of mind and give you courage as you strive to cultivate a spirit of thanksgiving and contentment.
I'll be right there with you, struggling side by side with you, praying with you.
Yours in Christ,
Pastor Becki
Friday, February 18, 2011
Ponderances with Paul
The Apostle Paul, not the Beatle Paul.
I've lived in a couple of different types of homes. My first home, although I can't remember it except for small little shadows of images somewhere in the back of my mind, was a mobile home on the Pennsylvania side of the Delaware. My parents and I lived there for about two years until my brother was born, and then we moved into a one-story rancher in New Jersey. The house belonged to my great-grandparents before my parents bought it, and it is in that house that my parents and sister still live to this day. There was a brief period in 1993 when I lived in a two-story house with my parents, brother, and grandparents. Being in a two-story house is a lot different from being in a small rancher. We did that for about three or four months while our house underwent some major repairs following a house fire.
After high school graduation, I began life in a dorm. Even dorms come in different styles. My first dorm was a small room with no air conditioning, though we did have heat. I shared the room with another girl and we had community style bathrooms that was shared between the forty girls on the floor. My senior dorm was much nicer, with carpet and temperature control and defined separation between my side and my roommate's side. In the senior dorms, I only had to share a bathroom with my roommate, which was much easier when it came to coordinating shower schedules. In seminary, it was back to community style bathrooms, but I didn't have a roommate, so that was a plus.
Now I live in a one-level two-bedroom apartment by myself. I have neighbors around me, but I'm pretty much on my own in my adult life.
Each of us has experienced a kind of home, whether it's in a small farmhouse cottage, a one-story-rancher, a city row house, or a huge mansion with more space than you could ever want. Some people make their home on the city streets under bridges and in alleys. We all try to do the best we can with what we've been given, for the most part.
It's easy to identify what kind of a home certain creatures live in. I recently watched an episode of Barney (the purple dinosaur, yes...stop judging me! Okay. I'll pause while you laugh. Okay, that's enough.) and they were talking about different kinds of homes that animals live in. Birds live in nests, fish live under the sea, dogs have dog houses, etc.
It's a lot harder for us to say what kind of house God lives in.
Think about that for a second. Where does God live? If you ask a child where God lives, you get all kinds of creative answers: "In the sky" "Up in Heaven" etc. Our concept of where God lives is what I call a tangible abstract: We don't know what it looks like (hence the abstraction) but we come up with a concrete answer that we can get our heads around (that's the tangible).
Does God really live anywhere?
In biblical history, God lived in the temple. At least, that's what the Israelites thought. When David wanted to build a house for God in 2 Samuel 7, the prophet Nathan speaks on God's behalf: Did God ever ask to have a house made of cedar? No. Up to that point, God lived in the tabernacle, a big mobile tent and the symbolic nature of the tent was the idea that it could be moved: God could go wherever the Israelites went, regardless of what land they occupied. Granted, God follows in the next breath by saying that one of King David's offspring will build God's temple. When Solomon oversees the temple (I can't bring myself to say that Solomon built it because the reality is that Solomon didn't actually get his hands dirty...that's what slaves were for.) construction in 2 Kings, he declares before the people, "Will God indeed dwell here on the earth? Even the heaven and the highest heavens cannot contain you much less this house that I have built." Solomon got that God didn't dwell in the temple. God's presence could be in the temple and his eye could be over the temple, but God wasn't going to actually set up shop in the temple.
But the Israelites can't get their head around that. God lives in the temple. Period. Where the temple is, God will be also. That's what the Assyrians and Babylonians were counting on when they conquered them. Take the people away from the their land and their temple, you take them away from the God, leaving them godless and, hopefully, easier to subdue. And then in Ezekiel 10, God's glory leaves the temple not only because bad things were going on in the temple, but because God cannot be contained in a temple. There is no corner of the world where God's creation can go to get away from God. Wherever we are, God sees. Whatever we do, God sees.
Which brings me to Paul. In I Corinthians 3, Paul reminds the people of Corinth that Christ is their sure foundation and the work they do as a community of faith must be done with materials strong enough to build on that foundation. A time will come, Paul says, when the materials that weren't done with Christ in mind as the foundation will burn away and turn to ash. But the materials that were done with Christ in mind as the foundation will survive and the builders' rewards will be great.
But still, this does not mean that God lives in a house. This builder bit is a metaphor. A figure of speech. Like "water under the bridge."
Pauls says in verse 16, "Do you not know that you are God's temple and that God's spirit dwells in you?" Many of us can remember that little ditty from our early Sunday school years: "I am the church, you are the church, and we are the church together." I firmly believe that to be true. God dwells in each of us individually, but the body of Christ really thrives when we come together corporately. God is in me, God is in you, and God is even in the people you might not expect to be a dwelling place of the Spirit of the living God. As temples of God, it is our calling in life to discern whether or not the materials we are using to build on the foundation of Christ are solid materials, or wood that is rotting away.
If you act with Christ as your guide, and do everything with the Spirit of Christ in mind, those materials will be solid. If you act with hate or chaos in your heart, if there is deceit and malice, those materials will rot away and the building will not continue to stand. That foundation is solid, but it's our calling as Christians to make sure that we are building up the walls so that when God puts on the roof at the end of days, we have a structure that God can say, "Well done, good and faithful servants."
Is it easy? Eh. Depends on how you look at it. It takes work, for sure. That's why community is so important. But it's worth it. In all that we do, whether in word or in deed, let us do it all in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, giving thanks to the Father who is through him.
Happy building!
Peace,
Pastor Becki
I've lived in a couple of different types of homes. My first home, although I can't remember it except for small little shadows of images somewhere in the back of my mind, was a mobile home on the Pennsylvania side of the Delaware. My parents and I lived there for about two years until my brother was born, and then we moved into a one-story rancher in New Jersey. The house belonged to my great-grandparents before my parents bought it, and it is in that house that my parents and sister still live to this day. There was a brief period in 1993 when I lived in a two-story house with my parents, brother, and grandparents. Being in a two-story house is a lot different from being in a small rancher. We did that for about three or four months while our house underwent some major repairs following a house fire.
After high school graduation, I began life in a dorm. Even dorms come in different styles. My first dorm was a small room with no air conditioning, though we did have heat. I shared the room with another girl and we had community style bathrooms that was shared between the forty girls on the floor. My senior dorm was much nicer, with carpet and temperature control and defined separation between my side and my roommate's side. In the senior dorms, I only had to share a bathroom with my roommate, which was much easier when it came to coordinating shower schedules. In seminary, it was back to community style bathrooms, but I didn't have a roommate, so that was a plus.
Now I live in a one-level two-bedroom apartment by myself. I have neighbors around me, but I'm pretty much on my own in my adult life.
Each of us has experienced a kind of home, whether it's in a small farmhouse cottage, a one-story-rancher, a city row house, or a huge mansion with more space than you could ever want. Some people make their home on the city streets under bridges and in alleys. We all try to do the best we can with what we've been given, for the most part.
It's easy to identify what kind of a home certain creatures live in. I recently watched an episode of Barney (the purple dinosaur, yes...stop judging me! Okay. I'll pause while you laugh. Okay, that's enough.) and they were talking about different kinds of homes that animals live in. Birds live in nests, fish live under the sea, dogs have dog houses, etc.
It's a lot harder for us to say what kind of house God lives in.
Think about that for a second. Where does God live? If you ask a child where God lives, you get all kinds of creative answers: "In the sky" "Up in Heaven" etc. Our concept of where God lives is what I call a tangible abstract: We don't know what it looks like (hence the abstraction) but we come up with a concrete answer that we can get our heads around (that's the tangible).
Does God really live anywhere?
In biblical history, God lived in the temple. At least, that's what the Israelites thought. When David wanted to build a house for God in 2 Samuel 7, the prophet Nathan speaks on God's behalf: Did God ever ask to have a house made of cedar? No. Up to that point, God lived in the tabernacle, a big mobile tent and the symbolic nature of the tent was the idea that it could be moved: God could go wherever the Israelites went, regardless of what land they occupied. Granted, God follows in the next breath by saying that one of King David's offspring will build God's temple. When Solomon oversees the temple (I can't bring myself to say that Solomon built it because the reality is that Solomon didn't actually get his hands dirty...that's what slaves were for.) construction in 2 Kings, he declares before the people, "Will God indeed dwell here on the earth? Even the heaven and the highest heavens cannot contain you much less this house that I have built." Solomon got that God didn't dwell in the temple. God's presence could be in the temple and his eye could be over the temple, but God wasn't going to actually set up shop in the temple.
But the Israelites can't get their head around that. God lives in the temple. Period. Where the temple is, God will be also. That's what the Assyrians and Babylonians were counting on when they conquered them. Take the people away from the their land and their temple, you take them away from the God, leaving them godless and, hopefully, easier to subdue. And then in Ezekiel 10, God's glory leaves the temple not only because bad things were going on in the temple, but because God cannot be contained in a temple. There is no corner of the world where God's creation can go to get away from God. Wherever we are, God sees. Whatever we do, God sees.
Which brings me to Paul. In I Corinthians 3, Paul reminds the people of Corinth that Christ is their sure foundation and the work they do as a community of faith must be done with materials strong enough to build on that foundation. A time will come, Paul says, when the materials that weren't done with Christ in mind as the foundation will burn away and turn to ash. But the materials that were done with Christ in mind as the foundation will survive and the builders' rewards will be great.
But still, this does not mean that God lives in a house. This builder bit is a metaphor. A figure of speech. Like "water under the bridge."
Pauls says in verse 16, "Do you not know that you are God's temple and that God's spirit dwells in you?" Many of us can remember that little ditty from our early Sunday school years: "I am the church, you are the church, and we are the church together." I firmly believe that to be true. God dwells in each of us individually, but the body of Christ really thrives when we come together corporately. God is in me, God is in you, and God is even in the people you might not expect to be a dwelling place of the Spirit of the living God. As temples of God, it is our calling in life to discern whether or not the materials we are using to build on the foundation of Christ are solid materials, or wood that is rotting away.
If you act with Christ as your guide, and do everything with the Spirit of Christ in mind, those materials will be solid. If you act with hate or chaos in your heart, if there is deceit and malice, those materials will rot away and the building will not continue to stand. That foundation is solid, but it's our calling as Christians to make sure that we are building up the walls so that when God puts on the roof at the end of days, we have a structure that God can say, "Well done, good and faithful servants."
Is it easy? Eh. Depends on how you look at it. It takes work, for sure. That's why community is so important. But it's worth it. In all that we do, whether in word or in deed, let us do it all in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, giving thanks to the Father who is through him.
Happy building!
Peace,
Pastor Becki
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