Mile Marker~ Happy 5th Birthday Joel!

Joel at Disney's Castaway Cay

Joel entered our lives on a cold (for South Mississippi) December day 5 years ago.  By the time we made it home from the hospital, the weather had completely changed...and so had we.  We had been told that there was a possibility that Joel would be born with Down Syndrome.  After several inconclusive screenings, plus multiple reassurances that the fetus was otherwise developing in a healthy manner, we stopped testing and started waiting.  On the day that he entered the outside world, we had all but forgotten that the possibility existed   As a matter of fact, the OB/GYN had forgotten and failed to notify the OB floor staff...they were quite surprised!  I remember the day of Joel's first sunrise.  I prayed, wondering how we would ever adjust to this new reality.  Everyone assured me "everything will be fine."  I didn't understand how they could say that.  Then sweet Joel snuggled into my arms, and my warmed heart understood, "everything is going to be fine."  A warm front came through our area and the temperature was twenty degrees warmer.  Nothing in my suitcase was appropriate for me or the baby.  I would need to adjust...that was 5 years ago.

I've learned so much from Joel in these 5 short years.  It would take more than a blog to share it all.  Maybe one day I'll write the book.  But for now, a lesson for each year...

Joel completed his first soccer season this year

1.  Take Your Time Another mom I know with a most handsome son toting extra chromosomes refers to "Noah-time".  She is referencing how patient one must be because her son will arrive/finish/move/go/sit/stand/speak/leave at his pace.  Joel is the same way.  Some days, we don't move fast enough for Joel.  But most days, there is a methodical pace that I must choose to take if I am to walk hand in hand with him.  Because holding his hand is absolutely one of the most precious gifts in my life, I choose his pace.  Oh sure, there are days he gets swung onto my hip, or onto Dad's back, or onto brother's shoulders, or into a stroller to move a little faster.  And he enjoys the ride (see smile and celebrate below).  I have learned to love this new pace, however.  I had learned a different pace, one conducive to mothering 3 small children, being a part of a clergy couple where both of us worked full time in a large church, and still volunteering throughout the community.  My stride was long, my heels clicked the floor with purpose, my arms pumped the air as blood pumped through my veins with ever-increasing urgency.  I was going places!  It wasn't until Joel took my hand and slowed my step that I realized I was missing the journey.  Joel took his first steps at 20 months, nearly 10 months after his typical peers.  Although he has had physical therapy most of his life and wears braces on both ankles, his gait is still a bit awkward and slow for his age.  Me too.  I've been practicing this new pace for only 5 years.  There are still days that I rush right past the most important people to get to some incredibly important meeting *or so I thought*.  Joel's gait will get stronger, more stable.  I only hope I can grow as fast as he.

Joel hunts for a Christmas tree

2.  Listen to People As a pastor, I do a LOT of listening.  Word to the wise: having the opportunity to do a lot of listening doesn't necessarily mean you are a good listener.  For several years I worked as a children's pastor in a large church.  I remarked after my first quarter that every kid there had letters: ADD, ADHD, ODD,  AS, ASD...I had a perfunctory conversation with each mother: "How can I help your child's experience within our ministry be a positive one?"  I was proud of myself for asking.  I felt like I implemented as many of the suggestions as were practical.  Then we got letters: DS, TS21, SPED, PT, OT, SLT...I remember the first mom I went back to and said, "Tell me your story again."  I wasn't listening for a certain set of pre-determined answers that fit my to-do list.  I was listening for her voice, the voice she gave her child, the wisdom she had gained from learning his pace, the hope I could muster from warriors like her.  Joel's speech therapist started coming to see us around his first birthday.  His typical peers had already mastered 50 words or better.  His older brother was speaking eloquently by 12 months.  Joel had no words.  The therapist reminded me of the importance of speaking to Joel, reading to Joel, exposing Joel to lots of language because he was listening.  And slowly he would begin to process sounds, then words, then ideas, then language.  But I had to listen to him too.  Repeat his sounds.  Mimic his expressions.  Engage in "conversation" with him because he needed the encouragment to keep trying.  How many people around me have "lost their voice" because the world stopped listening and no one has encouraged them to keep trying?  I never get tired of hearing Joel's sweet voice.  Okay, exaggeration...sometimes he makes these horrible sounds: yelling, crying, screaming.  I get tired of that.  Those sounds stop when I listen, attend, help him solve his problem.  Then, the sweet voice comes back: "mymama" is my name.  "Iuhnyootoo" is I love you.  I am learning to listen.

Joel enjoys a little yogurt

3.  Smile My 4 children have been blessed with beautiful smiles.  My oldest son has the smile of an angel.  He is absolutely beautiful.  My second son has the smile of mischief.  His smile assures you that you wish you knew what he was thinking!  My daughter has the loveliest of smiles that melts our hearts.  Joel's smile is pure joy.  You have to smile back.  I have friends whose children also sport the extra chromosome who tell of their child's uncanny ability to recognize the hurt souls in our midst.  I heard one mother tell the story of her son entering a restaurant with them.  Upon entering, they quickly recognized a fellow church member who was known for her critical words and overbearing spirit.  They quietly requested to be seated in another part of the restaurant, not wanting to hear the scathing comments she would surely make about their son's poor table manners.  Their son saw her too, recognized her immediately, and went and sat in the empty seat at her table.  You see, she was alone.  She was a widow, and no doubt her bitterness came from a broken heart.  My friend's little boy sat with this woman for his entire lunch.  Joel seems to have a similar affinity for those who need a smile.  He has an easy way of placing his hand on your shoulder and rubbing your back.  He seems to know who in the room needs him.  Joel's smile brings joy into a room, but he won't leave until everyone in the room is smiling with him.

Super Joel

4.  Forgive Easily Like all toddlers, Joel has had to be taught to say "I'm sorry" when he hurts someone.  He can pack a mean punch!  Because his words don't come as quickly as his friends' words, he often resorts to pushing, pulling, and hitting to get his way.  (But really, who doesn't??)  When we witness this behavior, we intercept the action, telling Joel he can't hit and now he must say sorry.  "Isorree" the words come out slurred together.  His head is usually tilted downward, eyes peaking out from under long eyelashes to see if you accept.  And a hug.  Joel can't apologize without hugging you.  This is so endearing about him, even his sister can't resist him.  But what is most precious is when he is hurt by someone else, and that person offers an "I'm sorry" Joel goes through the same procedure...almost apologizing along with the offending child, hug and all.  It's as if Joel feels forgiveness no matter which way it is being extended.  The only person I've ever seen Joel hold a grudge against is a nurse.  She was quick to forgive him...knowing how many times she had stuck the poor baby!  I think Joel's smile comes so easily because his list of offenses stays so short.  I would do well to do likewise.

Joel gives Donald a kiss

5.  Celebrate Joel loves mascots: Chickfila Cow, Sweet Pepper Pepper, Santa Claus, Easter Bunny...loves them.  But his heart belongs to Mickey Mouse.  That's why we were all so excited to take Joel to Disney World where he would meet Mickey Mouse and Friends.  Joel's favorite show is Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.  At the end of every show, the friends do the "hotdog dance" to celebrate their accomplishments.  Joel has perfected this dance...and uses it appropriately.  Chicken nuggets for dinner: woo hoo! hot dog dance.  Extra ice cream: woo hoo! hot dog dance.  Papa is coming over: woo hoo! hot dog dance.  It doesn't matter if you're in the kitchen, at church, on the cereal aisle at Rouses, any place is a good place for the hot dog dance.  Joel celebrates easily.  Of course, I love finding reasons for him to celebrate.  But really, he finds them more easily than I do.  He reminds me that life gives us hundreds of reasons every day to celebrate if we're looking for them.  And oh, to really celebrate.  Not just a mental acknowledgment that something is swell...but a foot tapping, arm waving, voice lifting celebration.  Joel teaches me to regularly celebrate what is good.  He teaches me that good can be found in a lot of insignificant things.

When we brought little Joel home just a few weeks before Christmas, I knew we had some major adjustments to make in life.  I just mistakenly believed they were about my lifestyle.  I've learned the major adjustments happened in my heart.  Thank you Joel, for the gift of you.  I love you, and I love being loved by you.

  

What to get the kids for Christmas

Educational toys have been trending for Christmas for many years.  My youngest son has weekly occupational therapy.  A note came home saying he worked on "visual motor perception."  My oldest son asked what that was.  "That's what gives you the ability to play video games and sports."  Oh, I got that, was his reply.  I think many of their toys...nerf guns and nerf balls...handheld games, kinect games...work on visual motor perception.  Is that enough "education" for the holidays?  And the point of educational toys, at some level, must be be to assuage the guilt we feel over spending too much money on kids who already have too much stuff.  What are teaching our kids at Christmas?

So I don't want to get on my high horse here.  I really want to have a conversation with the parents of the world who want their children to learn to believe that the world is...

The World is God's, not mine.  I believe that the world was created by God for God's glory.  We humans are a part of that creation.  Because God created the world, the world belongs to God.  God gave humans a special role in world stewardship.  Stewardship is different than consumption.  Imagine a friend leaving a plate of cookies on the table.  The friend asks you to watch the cookies, they are for his niece.  He offers to share with you, with the clear understanding that there must enough left to share with his niece.  He leaves to get her.  You devour all the cookies, break the plate, dust the crumbs to the floor, and then mock the little girl for her tears when she finds her cookies gone.  The friend asks what you were thinking, and you offer some rigmarole about "early bird gets the worm."  Of course, now your friend thinks you are a worm and his niece is ready to feed you worms.  Too simplistic?  Probably.  But I want my children to understand that the world is not theirs to consume and waste.  It is only theirs for a season.  I fear my generation may have not learned our lesson.

The World is a beautiful, fearful, wonderful, strange place.  Because the world is God's, God has left his fingerprints in all of creations.  I love the little idiosyncrasies of creation: like your forearm is the same length as your foot; a widow's peak is genetic, just like rolling your tongue. I believe that God has given free will to humanity.  And we have devoured the cookies.  "Alas and did my Savior bleed and did my Sovereign die.  Would he devote that sacred head for such a worm as I?" Isaac Watts wrote that line in the 1700's.  God has allowed us to do unthinkable things to His creations (especially to one another).  He in turn has created a plan of redemption for the whole world.  I want my children to take their own adventures in the world, but I want them to trust the God of Creation, not the tainted creation.  Learn to trust, but learn to trust what is true, strong, and good.  Then they will be prepared to accept the world's strange and fearful ways with grace while appreciating and loving the world's beautiful and wonderful ways.

The World is loved by God.  And I want my children to know that this includes them.  For God loved the world so much (that world that devoured his cookies) that he sent his only son (closer than a niece) so that whomever believed (trusted, acted upon faith) that Jesus is the Son of God, would not die (become worm trash), but would have eternal life (zoe...life found only in God).  And I want my children to know this includes their perceived enemies, just as Jesus said.  I want the reservoir from which they love to be deep.  My wish, my blessing for them is that deep waters of grace and love will flow in their souls.  May they have the capacity to love all because they are loved by the Author of Love so completely.

The World is a better place because of Jesus. Jesus has transformed the world.  Jesus will redeem the world.   I want my children to believe that they have the power to transform the world for good through the love of Jesus.  

So what gift teaches that?

Mile-Marker: Sweet 16

Next week Cliff and I will celebrate 16 years of marriage.
A hard won 16 years in some respects.  A sweet victory to be sure.


We met 18 years ago while attending William Carey College (now University).  I was a sophomore.  He was a transferring Junior.  I was giving a talk at the Baptist Student Union the first weekend of school.  He was listening.  He came to me at the end and said, "Can I give you a hug?  I love you!"  I should have thought he was weird.  I thought he was cute.


A couple of months later he called to ask me out on a date.  Well, it's a bit more complicated than that, but that's what it was: a date.  December 11, 1994.  If he wants to contest the date, he can write his own blog!  A year later we were engaged.  A year after that we were married.  November 23, 1996.  He won't contest that.  Our first kiss was our wedding kiss.  Yes, our first kiss.

Saints Superbowl Season

Your Kiss

Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth. Song of Solomon 1:2

The first one was gentle and timid,

pregnant with promise--

Promises kept and promises to come.

The veil was lifted

And two hearts were joined to one future.

The second one was quick and stolen;

Charged with exhileration--

We were sustained by the electricity around us.

Wrapped in lace and pearls,

It was a gift between new lovers.

The third one was long and sensuous;

Teeming with new life,

It gave birth to our new passion.

Like waters drenching the earth,

This kiss brought forth all that is now familiar.

The next one will be sure and sweet,

Abundant with memories and possibilities.

Whether speaking hello or goodbye,

It will say one thing:

I love you.

If marriage is meant more for our holiness than our happiness, then I am doubly blessed.  I have the privilege of doing life with a man who cares about my holiness and my happiness.  Cliff is my best friend, my theology buddy, my sweet date, the guy in my dreams.  Cliff isn't perfect, but that just means he doesn't expect me to be perfect either.  He is on my team, he is for me, my biggest fan.  He lets me shine and never relishes outshining me.  He receives my fears, my dreams, my frustrations, my hopes, my weaknesses, and my strengths with grace. I trust that I come into his presence forgiven; I promise that he comes into my presence forgiven.   He is the most loving, thoughtful, playful, affectionate, strong, protective, directing, smart, funny, kind, forgiving Daddy any little boy or girl could want.  He sings songs of love over us.  We, our children and I, know that we can venture into the world in the direction of God's voice with the confidence that this man is on our team. He is our hero. Of course, we share him with people who love him too. He is fiercely faithful to his family...loving his grandmother, praying for his cousins, being a son his parents are proud of.  It is the joy of my life to minister beside him.  His compassion, sense of justice, passion for Jesus, and love for God's True Word inspires me constantly.  I love to hear the words of praise people offer as they encounter Jesus in Cliff.  Cliff, I love you.  I like you.  I choose you.  I am completely yours.  Happy Anniversary.

Easter 2012

Jonah and the Unmistakable Truth

The Word of the Lord came to Jonah a second time, saying, “ Get up, go to Ninevah, that great city, and proclaim to it the message that I tell you.”  […] But this was very displeasing to Jonah, and he became angry.  He prayed to the Lord and said, “O Lord!  Is not that what I said while I was still in my own country?  That is why I fled to Tarshish at the beginning; for I knew that you are a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger, and ready to relent from punishing.” (Jonah 3:1-2; 4:1-2)

Last week I started preaching on the story of Jonah by examining the God of Jonah.  What we see through Jonah’s eyes is that God is absolutely unmanageable (I borrow this word from Priscilla Shirer in her study Jonah: A Life Interrupted).  Jonah learned the hard way that he can’t control God: God is the Unmanageable God.

But I don’t want to pick on Jonah too much.  After all, his story has been told to generations because it contains this unmistakable truth: there is a Jonah inside each of us.  And just like that whale swallowed Jonah whole, so have I swallowed whole the cultural myth that I am in total control.  This myth leads to human arrogance.

Human arrogance is the attitude that I can control my world, your world, and their world because I am the center of the world.  Everything proceeds from me, everything was created for me, and what doesn’t serve me or meet my approval is worthless to me.  Arrogance is defined as “an attitude of superiority, an overbearing manner, presumptuous claims or assumption.”  When the prophet Samuel explained to Saul (1 Samuel 15) why God was removing him from the throne, Samuel said that arrogance is the same sin as idolatry: a stubbornness to hear and obey the Word of the Lord.  That was Jonah’s sin too.  He heard the Word of the Lord, he just didn’t obey.  He put himself on the throne and worshiped his own need to be in control.  That’s idolatry.  Anything can be an idol if it becomes more important than God.  Anyone can be an idolater. 

If I know what God expects of me; if I know what God’s word says about a subject; if I know what God wants me to do with my time, my money, my relationships, my life; and I refuse to obey God, then I have an attitude of superiority.  I am being rebelliously stubborn in my relationship with God.  I am being arrogant about the free-will that God has given me.  I have put myself on the throne of my life…and I have attempted to de-throne God.  But God, the unmanageable God, won’t be de-throned. 

The unmistakable truth is this: God has made a way for every person to be saved.  God sent first the law, then the prophets, and finally the Son to point to and make open the narrow road that leads to life.  You and I are NOT the gatekeepers of the road of salvation.  Jesus is!  Somehow we have the notion that God has knighted us Heavenly Hall Monitors.  Our duty is to dispense grace and mercy as we see fit.  If that is our attitude, we are confused.  God has given us grace and mercy with the command to also show grace and mercy to anyone who has need for grace and mercy (that’s everyone).  Jesus said, “Do not judge, so that you may not be judged.  For with the judgment you make you will be judged, and the measure you give will be measure you get (Mt 7).”

This is not a verse encouraging us to excuse other people’s sin.  It is often used that way: don’t judge me!  Rather, this is a verse reminding us to tell other sinners what do with their sin: trade it in for God’s mercy and grace.  Keep listening: “For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened.”  Jesus doesn’t want us to be heavenly hall monitors or gatekeepers of the narrow road.  Jesus wants us to be signposts to the One who is the Way, the Truth and the Life.  My life is to point to the Way, not be a stumbling block on the way!

The world doesn’t need to be convinced of it’s sin.  The headlines do that.  The media does that.  Our mama’s do that.  I got guilt!  The world needs to be convinced there is a Savior!  It is presumptuous for us to believe that God wants us to point fingers of shame at sinners.  Which is what makes this sermon tricky.  How do I preach against spiritual arrogance without exposing my own?  Maybe that’s why Jonah went to Tarshish.  Going to Tarshish is easier than confronting your own sin.

Am I sinner?  A saved one, but yeah.  Am I a hypocrite?  More times than my hypocrisy will allow me to confess.  Am I arrogant and prideful?  Let me just say, it takes one to know one.  Am I perfect?  Not today, but thanks to Jesus, I’m on my way.  If any person would be convinced by my words about their need for a Savior, it won’t be because of my greatness.  It will be because I have become convinced of my own sin and I have humbled myself at the foot of the cross.  And in that posture I point my life toward the One who gives Life…I lower my head so that others have a view of his Sacred Head.  The unmistakable truth for my life and your life and their life is that I don’t have to decide who gets mercy and who deserves grace.  I just get the honor of extending the invitation.

Milemarker: Preacher Gal

I recently was asked about "women in ministry." Specifically, where I as a woman found biblical authority to preach before the whole assembly. I grew up Southern Baptist and I was raised to believe that women had a very limited, specific role they were scripturally allowed to play in ministry: namely, a supportive role only. Imagine my consternation as a teenager upon hearing the call of God in my life and wondering how God would use me, a girl. I assumed I must have to go to a foreign country since God couldn't use women in the church in the US (please understand, this was my interpretation of the church’s teaching at a younger age). This assumption was met with a love God had put in my heart for the nations. I have since learned a love for the nations isn't the tell-tale sign of a missionary (although it works that way too); rather it is a tell-tale sign of an apostle/evangelist. “Ask and I’ll give you the nations,” (Psalm 2:8) became my heart’s cry before I ever heard the song.
      Finally, during my senior year at William Carey, as I struggled to decide what seminary to attend to further my education and prepare for ministry (still assuming I would somehow find acceptance overseas), the Dean of Biblical Studies said, “Leanne, you have a gift to preach. No one can deny that. You can stay in the SB church and be turned away from every pulpit, or you can find a church that will embrace your gift. If you choose to stay, you may make a difference for girls coming after you…maybe. If you choose to leave, you will make a difference for the Kingdom as God uses your gift of exhortation.” At that point, we prayerfully made the decision to withdraw my membership from the Southern Baptist Church and join the United Methodist Church (Cliff belonged to this denomination).
      I share all of that just to say that I had a lot of years and teaching and advice (not to mention prayerful study of the Bible) that went into honing the position I hold now regarding women in ministry. The position I hold most simply stated is: When Jesus rose on the first day of the week, New Creation was begun. The curse had been lifted. What God established in Genesis 1-2, what the Prophet promised in Joel 2, and what the Apostles witnessed in Acts 2 is Truth for my life: I (a woman) am created in the image of God, in equal likeness to man. I (a woman) am a recipient of the saving, justifying, sanctifying grace of God. I (a woman) have the Holy Spirit living in me and I am the bearer of His good gifts for ministry. I am a daughter of God who has received the pouring out of God’s Spirit in order to prophesy…I am included in “all flesh.”
      My unique gifting is the gift of exhortation as it is described in Romans or the gifts of pastor-teacher and apostle in Ephesians . In these lists, Paul does not designate that some are for men and some are for women. We have not withheld the gifts of service, helps, giving, and, in many cases, teaching from women. Why do we presume to withhold the gifts of leadership, exhortation, or prophecy from women? The Bible makes no indication (in the passages about Spiritual gifts) that some gifts are gender specific. Rather, Paul tells every believer not to “grieve the Spirit” (Ephesians 4) in the same chapter that he begins by talking about the “one body” that each is a member of, and that “each member” was given gifts; he then creates another overlapping list of Spiritual gifts: apostle, prophet, evangelist, pastors, and teachers. It grieves the Spirit when I refuse to use the gifts He has graciously given me because of the traditions of man. Again, in yet another “listing”: “To each believer is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good…. All these are activated by one and the same Spirit, who allots to each one individually just as the Spirit chooses: wisdom, knowledge, faith, healing, miracles, prophecy, discernment, tongues, interpretation (1 Corinthians 12: 7,11) I really believe that if Paul wanted the churches to understand that women could not receive certain gifts because of gender and God’s plan for women, any one of these passages would have been an appropriate place to explain that. But instead, he uses language like “each believer”. So, unless we believe that women aren't included in the group called “believers”, then we have to assume that the gifts are “equal opportunity.”
      Many people ask for Scripture passages that reference women in leadership positions in the church. I am listing women God used throughout the ages to lead God’s people by the gifting of God’s Spirit. (That is my definition of a pastor).
 1. Miriam as prophet in Exodus 15:20 and Micah 6:4
2. Deborah as a judge/prophet in Judges 4:4-5 and a mother in 5:7
3. Isaiah’s wife as a prophet in Isaiah 8:3
 4. Huldah as a prophet in 2 Kings 22:14
5. Daughters of Israel as worship leaders (mourners) in 2 Samuel 1:24
 6. Female Levites in Exodus 38:8 (they guarded the door of the Tabernacle)
 7. Paul’s greeting to the Roman churches include greetings to female leadership in 1 of every 3 specific references. Here are some examples:
 8. Romans 16:7 (the Apostle Junia),
9. Acts 21:9 (Philip’s Daughters the Prophets),
 10. 1 Corinthians 11:5 (Paul gives instructions to the women who will pray and prophesy in the Corinthian assembly),
 11. Philippians 4:2-3 (Euodia and Synthyche as co-laborers with Paul),
 12. Romans 16:1-2(Phoebe as Deacon),
 13. Romans 16:4 (Mary and Persis who serve in the church),
 14. Romans 16:3 & Acts 18:24-26 (Prisca and Aquila receive high regard from Paul as co-pastors), 
15. Titus 2:3-5 (male and female leadership is addressed equally),
 16. 1 Timothy 3:11(this is a passage about Deacons. When I was in the SBC, it was the primary passage used to defend the church against female leadership. Interesting to note that Paul write specifically in the middle of the instructional paragraph “women also”. In other words, women are included in the instructions about deacons.)
 17. Acts 12:12 (House of Mary where the Christians gathered)
 18. Acts 16: 14-15 (House of Lydia where Christians gathered)
 19. Colossians 4:15 (House Church of Nympha)
      The most telling thing for me however, is Jesus’ behavior toward women. As a gender, we were chosen to bear the Son of God in order to reverse the curse (Mary). Jesus is welcomed into the Temple for the first time by the Prophet Anna, probably in the lineage of the Levites mentioned in Exodus 38:8. Jesus had female disciples (Luke 10:38-42). Jesus gave some of our most profound theological truths first to women (John 4, John 20). It is a cultural fact in the time of the New Testament that relatively few women were teachers in public. That is because, for the most part, education was withheld from them. Within Judiaism especially, women teachers (and learners) were a rarity—which makes Jesus’ instruction and inclusion of women within the circle of disciples particularly noteworthy. Jesus did not exclude women from following him for theological reasons. If there is any “smoking gun” in the New Testament that solidly affirms my calling to preach and teach the word of God, it is my Lord’s inclusion of women right next to Peter, John, and the rest.
      I guess we all wish we could find a single passage to counter the passage from Corinthians and Timothy that says “women are not allowed to speak or teach in the assembly”…a real smoking gun passage like, “I permit any woman properly trained in the Lord to exercise her gifts according the grace given her by the Spirit for the building up of the Church of Jesus Christ our Savior.” Rather, that type of verse (really verses…so many times we are exhorted this way) is addressed to all believers, whether male or female. With the host of evidence that Paul absolutely allowed and blessed female leadership in multiple church settings, it becomes self-evident that men and women are expected to serve/lead the church. Paul had to call out a few situations of improper worship, and that resulted in some “problem passages.” But I believe we do a disservice to the whole of Christian tradition when we ignore the bulk of Christian teaching and build a theology on 2 unrelated verses of Scripture.
      The following website has a wealth of information, articles, and videos that offer a biblically sound interpretation of 1 Timothy 2:12 “I permit no woman to teach or to have authority over a man; she is to keep silent.” And 1 Corinthians 14:33 “As in all the churches of the saints, women should be silent in the church. For they are not permitted to speak but should be subordinate, as the law also says. If there is anything they desire to know, let them ask their husbands at home for it is shameful for a woman to speak in church.” The least I can say is, Paul doesn't really seem to tell women not to preach. He seems to tell them not to utter a single word. Do we really believe Paul meant for women to be mute in the church in all seasons, at all times, for all generations? Or do we see this through the lens of cultural interpretation? See more here: http://seedbed.com/feed/resource-post-women-in-ministry

Life on God's Terms

When I was a kid my mom drove a blue Buick Park Avenue. Oh, it was something…what with its faux wood paneling, fancy blue velour seats and automatic windows! Really what it was, was a boat…a big blue boat. But she was proud of that car and drove it forever. Our boat sounded like a boat roaring onto shore as well. This Buick was one of GM’s converted diesels. The program was an attempt to save consumers money back in the day when diesel was cheaper. Program didn't work because the cars with gasoline parts couldn't handle the power of the diesel-fueled engine. As a kid, all I understood was that if we put the wrong kind of fuel in my mother’s car, bad things would happen. I wasn't sure what kind of earth-shattering, axis-rotating, universe-bending horrors would happen. I just made sure she used diesel. Turns out what would have happened is that the diesel engine would have lost power because the gasoline doesn't fire with the same power. Diesel owners who have made this mistake describe their vehicles “not catching speed.” Ultimately, the gasoline has to be drained and depending upon use, cylinders, hoses, and filters have to be cleaned or replaced. Repairs were described costing anywhere between $300 and $10,000. Point being, the wrong fuel left the engine a powerless mess. (*what is she talking about???!?*) Paul tells the Romans in chapter 8 verses 10-11, “But if the Messiah is in you, the body is indeed dead because of sin, but the spirit is life because of covenant faithfulness. So then, if the spirit of the one who raised Jesus from the dead lives within you, the one who raised the Messiah from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies, too, through his spirit who lives within you.” When Jesus took my heart of stone and replaced it with a heart of flesh, when Jesus wholly saved me from my sin, when Jesus regenerated my life by His Spirit, I got a new engine. And that engine requires different fuel. If I fuel my life with the world’s cheap imitation gasoline, I become a powerless mess. In verses 5 and 6 Paul further explains: “Look at it like this. People whose lives are determined by human flesh focus their minds on matters to do with the flesh, but people whose lives are determined by the spirit focus their minds on matters to do with the spirit. Focus on flesh, and you’ll die; but focus on the spirit, and you’ll have life and peace.” If I fuel my life with the Spirit’s power, I become a powerful force for life and peace. So then if we understand the importance of keeping a diesel engine fueled-up with diesel fuel so that it can run, how then do we understand being filled with the Holy Spirit in order to live life on God’s terms? Really it boils down to asking and receiving. It’s a faith thing, to be sure! But that faith to receive the power of the Holy Spirit is aided by our attention to the things of the Spirit rather than the things of the world. Junk in, junk out, right? That’s why Paul encourages the believers to set their minds on Spiritual, not earthly things. The advice is still valid today. Ask God for more of His Spirit. Set yourself in places to be influenced by His Spirit. Respond to His Spirit. You will begin to feel the influence of His Spirit in your thoughts. When you take corresponding action, you align your will with God’s will and this creates combustion, like the pistons firing that revs the motor! Remember you can’t steer a parked car. So move when the Spirit says move. This is a lifetime work called sanctification. But it is possible, when we live life on God’s terms.

Marriage

Marriage was created for saints, not sinners. God’s intentions for marriage was that it would be a physical demonstration in this world of the covenant that God keeps faithfully with his people. And on our wedding day, we have high hopes for ourselves and our spouses. And then we’re married for about 30 minutes. We’ve all blown it. Not a one of us stands perfect, without fault before God. Most of us don’t have any trouble admitting that. Those that do have trouble admitting that, let me suggest a good place to start. And since we are called to love our spouses as faithfully as Christ loves the church, and submit to our spouses (that is to one another…read it again) out of respect for Christ’s submission to the cross…once we admit and confess we have sinned against God, it’s probably not a huge leap to realize that we have hurt our spouses along the way as well. We’ve all blown it. We all would like to think we’ve blown it a little less than someone else. Sure, we reason, I messed up. But did you hear about so and so? She really made a mess! But we aren’t comparing ourselves to each other (Jesus told us to stop all that speck finding until we had removed our planks). We are comparing ourselves to Christ. And we’ve all blown it. “A wedding calls us to our highest and best—in fact, to almost impossible—ideals. It’s the way we want to live. But marriage reminds us of the daily reality of living as sinful human beings in a radically broken world. We aspire after love but far too often descend into hate.” (Gary Thomas, Sacred Marriage) So what are we supposed to do with that? We can know what the ideal is. We can even do our best to strive for it. And we should. But when the reality of our sinfulness hits us like a bucket of cold water, what do we do? We seek a redeemer who covers us with his love. And that’s why Ruth’s story is told in the Bible. Not because Ruth and Boaz had a perfect marriage, but because in this season of their lives they acted in Godly ways. God is able to say, “I want to be the redeemer in your life. I want to cover your shame with my love. I want to bring you in out of the cold. I want to give you my name. I want to love you forever. Here is a good example of someone who did this once. Now, I want to do this every day for the rest of your life…for eternity.” Facebook has been full this week of hamartiology: the study of sin. Lines drawn. Statuses posted. Links shared. Our data plans have been exhausted. I wonder what we have learned? Several threads that really left me hurting were conversations about divorce. I told our worship leader that I was thinking about talking about divorce this week, and he said, “it is the elephant in the room.” In our fallen world, we can’t have a discussion about Christian marriage without also having a discussion about divorce. That’s not a value judgment; that is a statement. How are we supposed to talk about, think about, preach about divorce in our world today? Our world, where it is estimated that 20-40% of all marriages end in divorce; our world, where 1/3 of Christian marriages dissolve. Some point immediately to passages in Malachi, Matthew, and Leviticus that tell us that God hates divorce and remarriage results in adultery. It’s true. It’s all in there. And I have a very high view of scripture, so I am not likely to remove or avoid the parts I am uncomfortable with. But I also have a very high view of God and so I seek to understand His ways rather than lean on my own understanding. I’ve read, and studied, and prayed with the question in mind: God, do you really hate divorce? And here is what I’ve come up with: Yes. This realization came to me this summer as I have stood by the caskets of some hard-fighting men and watched the tears roll down their widows’ cheeks. I thought one day, “I hate cancer. God, I know you hate cancer. I hate what cancer does to people, to families, to communities. There is nothing good about cancer. I know that seasons of fighting cancer has resulted in strengthening people’s faith, their families, their own personal health. I have seen people take a cancer diagnosis and allow God to use it for their good. But cancer. No good. It doesn’t matter whether the person with cancer did nothing to deserve cancer or was told every day “you’re going to get cancer” until the day they were told: “You’ve got cancer.” Cancer is evil. It is the opposite of life. I hate cancer. And I can truthfully say God hates cancer. When one of his children has cancer, God immediately creates a redemption plan: a plan of healing for this life or the next. God knows we are not created for cancer; cancer has no part in God’s original creation; cancer will have no part in God’s new creation. But in this fallen world we deal with cancer. Cancer doesn’t frighten God, but it makes God angry because it hurts his children. God doesn’t become angry at the person with cancer…even if they caused their own cancer. God is angry at the author of cancer. Divorce is like cancer. It has no part in God’s original creation; we were not created for brokenness and pain. It will have no part in God’s new creation. But it is a part of the world we live in now. Sometimes divorce happens because we mess up. Sometimes divorce happens to us. And God hates divorce. Because, God hates to see his children hurt. He hates when we are striking blows at each other. He hates to see us squaring off, not loving, not forgiving. He doesn’t hate us. But he hates to see us hurt others, and he hates to see us hurt. Truthfully, God desires all of our marriages, if we are Christian people, to be an example to the world of God’s faithfulness and love. Paul says of our treatment of our spouses: “This is a great mystery, and I am applying it to Christ and the church. Each of you should love your wife as yourself, and to wives: your husband needs your respect.” What happens when our marriages are less than God’s ideal? What does God think of us when we fail each other: when we are selfish, arrogant, rude, unfaithful, violent, cold, or dishonest? God thinks: My children are hurt, and they are hurting each other. It pains me to see them like this. I wish they would not listen to the lies they hear in this world. I wish they would not allow their enemy to take them down paths of self-absorption, paths of fear, paths of greed, paths of sin. I wish they would believe and cling to the truth that sin will always take more than you bargained and leave you with less than it promised. But more than anything, I wish they would just look my way. If I could just catch her eye. If I could just grab his attention. I would remind them that I love them, that nothing can separate them from my love, that I have made a way for them to come home, that I welcome them (dirt and all). I would remind them that I am a God of second, third, fourth, and tenth chances. I would remind them that I already know what they’ve done and I’ve already paid the price of their debt. I would remind them that they are not the sum of their mistakes; they are precious, created in My image, and altogether beautiful. I would beg them to put on Christ, and not the rags of this world. I would hold a mirror of my Son so they could see that dressed in his righteousness they are perfect, without blemish, wrinkle, or stain. More beautiful than their earthly wedding day. I would wrap my arms around them, wipe the tears from their cheeks and tell them as many times as it takes to sink in: I forgive you.”

Messy Families

On a scale of 1 to 10 how messy is your house? With 1 being your home could end up on the next episode of "Hoarders" and 10 being Better Homes and Gardens could set up a photo shoot any time, any day, how messy is your house? I’m afraid I would have to confess that I probably fall somewhere in the bottom half. Not that I’ve ever been a super neat person, but as we added kids to the equation the mess increased exponentially. I remember the day that Joel threw the guest towels in the toilet, poured an entire box of Cheerios on the kitchen floor, dumped my purse into the couch cushions, and then locked himself in the boys bedroom. That was just one day…that was just one hour! Families are messy. Would that the messes were contained to wet towels and Cheerios. The reality however is that the messes our families make are often much more heartbreaking. We fight, fume, snatch, scratch, push and pull our way all the way to family car before heading to church. Then we pout, snort, and cut our eyes at our family all the way to the church doors. Then we walk in the narthex and when asked, “how are you?” we respond with broad smiles, “Fine! Thank you!” We are a mess. Which is why, I think, Paul makes the following address to the church at Ephesus. Notice that right before he talks to the church about being godly families, he reminds them that he is not talking to the world here. He is talking to the church. And the people of the church are expected to behave like the Christians that they are. It is self-evident that Paul tells them to stop being rude, angry, greedy, and dishonest because they’re being rude, angry, greedy, and dishonest. They’re making a mess! “But,” Paul reminds them, “You have put away these behaviors with your old life and you have found new life in Christ. So,” Paul concludes, “forgive each other, love each other, as God in Christ has forgiven you.” People are messy, families are messy, and that makes church messy. It would be great if we could all be fine all the time…but most of us aren't fine even most of the time. That’s why God gave us Jesus and that’s why Jesus gave us the Church: each other to be ambassadors of grace, mercy, love, and forgiveness even when we aren't fine. Now, I have to confess that I have taught my children to say “Fine, thank you,” when someone at church speaks to them. But I hope they are also learning to ask for help, be vulnerable, and accept and receive grace and mercy at church too. That’s the promise we make to each other in our membership vows. To help each other along, to make room at the family table for each other…even the messiest of us. Think about your Thanksgiving table…and the folks who put their knees under it. Be honest…there are a few of those folks that, if they weren't kin you aren't sure you’d let them in the door. But we don’t pick our families do we? We are given to each other…for better and worse! But next year, you’ll invite weird Uncle Perry to Thanksgiving again…because he’s family. WE are family too, with One Father in his One Church. We didn't pick each other, rather we were chosen by our Father to be members with one another in this family*. I may have come to this place because I liked a few of the people, but would I really have chosen to be friends with everyone in this place? Honestly??? And yet, here we are, the whole mess of us. And we are all invited to the table…mess and all. My fear is, in our efforts to be “fine, thank you” we begin to think our job is to protect the table from the people who would gather rather than protecting the divine right of any who would come to the table. The table should be respected and we should be faithful disciples of what we teach at the table, but the table does not need our protection, for the water and the blood and the body on this table were spilled here for the sole purpose of handling our mess! Which means I am welcome at the table, and you are welcome at the table…and we all are welcome at the table…not because of what we can bring or do or give, but because of the promise God has spoken over our lives. And my covenant that I make to them…that you today have made to them is to welcome them (they and all who would come to the family table) in the name of Christ and to practice the family traits of prayers, presence, gifts, and service. That’s how we live out Ephesians 4 together…that’s how support each other in our messes. We may be a mess, but it’s our mess, and God says he is able to make beautiful things out of our messes. (* Thank you to a great author, pastor, leader Ross Parsley. His book Messy Church says all this and more and will make you smile, cry, and love your church family.)

A Dad's Tale Don't Lose Your Legacy "Saul was a young man when he was chosen to lead Israel..."(1 Samuel 13:1) Saul was chosen by God to lead Israel, God's special nation, as their first king. From all accounts it appears that Jonathan, Saul's son, would have made an excellent king too. And of course it would have made sense that Jonathan would have ascended the throne after his father. But that wouldn't be the case. Saul lost his "annointing", his "God-nod" and blessing from God. Which meant Jonathan lost the opportunity to be his father's successor. And it wasn't in one disastrous moment that Saul lost his throne...it was little slips time after time. Multiple opportunties were given for Saul to act in humble obedience to God. But Saul consistently acted in selfish, foolish ways. In one episode, he almost lost Jonathan to a stupid curse. "Saul did something really foolish that day..." (1 Samuel 14:24) He spoke a curse against any soldier that ate before nightfall. He apparently wanted them to focus on winning the battle, forgetting they would need energy to fight! Jonathan was not around when Saul made the oath, so when Jonathan got hungry and helped himself to some wild honey, the soldiers were horrified. Realizing that Jonathan didn't know what Saul had said, they quickly explained the situation to Jonathan. Jonathan realized quickly that Saul had acted rashly and tried to persuade the soldiers to eat for strength...but they feared Saul's wrath more than they trusted Jonathan's sense. While Jonathan continued to shake his head at his father's foolishness, the soldiers won the battle...but barely! When all the fighting was over, they were so hungry that they began to "glutton" themselves on the livestock, committing a sin of eating meat with blood. Saul was called over and he built the first altar of his ministry in order to undo the sins of the soldiers...and make up for the foolish decision he had made earlier in the day. To make matters worse, it became clear to Saul that someone had gone against his fasting declaration and would need to be punished. He decided to flex his justice muscles and declared (he really needed to stop declaring) that even if the perpetrator was his own son, the man would die. Trouble was, it was his son. Jonathan, who had been the only one with enough sense to strengthen himself for battle, was about to be killed in front of the entire army by his own father. Jonathan spoke up for himself: "I licked a bit of honey off the tip of the staff I was carrying. That's it--and for that I'm going to die?" Even the soldiers rose up in Jonathan's defense: "Jonathan die? Never! He's just carried out this stunning salvation victory for Israel. As surely as God lives, not a hair on his head is going to be harmed. Why, he's been working hand-in-hand with God all day!" Jonathan didn't die that day. But he did die a young man in a violent way because of the enemies that Saul had made and because of the protection Saul had lost when he disobeyed God. What is my point for you? Don't lose your legacy. You may not even miss it...but it may be your child's life. Saul was a "act now-think later" kind of leader. He led from emotion (mostly anger and fear) and not from the Spirit that God wanted him to lead with. My generation of parents (we were born in the late 60's and 70's and we have kids in school right now) likes...no, loves...to experience life. We make a lot of decisions based on what we feel right now. The deal with feelings is that most of them are temporary. I'm not trying to knock feelings. They were created by God, and that makes them a very good thing. But they aren't meant to govern all of our decisions. They are meant to offer us a platform of compassion for God's creation. The lesson we learn from Saul in this story, and in multiple stories from his reign, is that feelings are temporary (here today, gone tomorrow...if they last that long!); but decisions made from a temporary feeling last a very long time. How do you make your decisions? Decisions about time, money, occupation, housing? Decisions about discipline, romance, free time, friendship, hobbies? Decisions about ethical matters like drinking, gambling, sex, and other recreational habits? Do you "go with the flow", "do what feels right", "follow your heart", "feed the need"? You would not be alone. Our parents may have coined these phrases and even taught us how...but we have nearly perfected this way of living. But at what cost?. As parents, we are the only people that can leave a legacy for our children. Many people in the community can leave them a blessing; legacies come from parents. Have you given much thought this year to what legacy you will leave your children? This is more than a financial matter, although that's important. This is a spiritual matter. How rich or poor in spirit will your child be because of the decisions you make today? Could you leave a richer legacy if decisions about lifestyle, relationships, ethics, recreation and the like were made not from an emotional place but from a spiritual place? "God, how would you direct my choices? What would you have me do?" Of course, that requires us to exercise the discipline of talking to God first...and waiting for a response. This requires patience, devotion, and well, yes, discipline. And maybe that's the point. Maybe waiting out the emotion and being led by the Spirit is exactly the safeguard our legacy needs. If you have the joy of doing so, run your fingers through your child's hair right now. Pause at the crown of his head or cup her chin in your hands and think to yourself "...so worth it." Don't Overlook Your Child's Potential (from 1 Samuel 16) At this point, Saul is on his way out. God has already chosen another king from another family. He tells the priest Samuel to head to Jesse's house. The new king is there. Samuel arrives at Jesse's and tells him to go get the boys. Well, Luke and Bo (haha, not really) and the 5 other strapping sons of Jesse line up. Samuel is very impressed. Big, strong boys...they reminded him of Saul. Any one of these boys looks like king material. Of course, it's the oldest. That's how things are done. Samuel feels strongly about this, but God says, "Looks aren't everything. Don't be impressed with his looks and stature. I've already eliminated him. God judges persons differently than humans do. Men and women look at the face; God looks into the heart." That's an indictment! Would we really be so shallow as to choose the king of a nation based a guys muscle mass and complexion??!? Even as I type the words, I know it's true. Samuel is pretty good by this time at listening to God and being led by the Spirit and he is sure that God is passing by all these studs. He checks again to see if Jesse has forgotten someone. Sure enough, Jesse says, "Well, there's the runt. But he's out tending the sheep." David doesn't anymore walk in the door than Samuel is pouring the Lord's annointing oil over his bewildered head. Now, it would take David some years to grow into the throne of Israel. And David would make some pretty big mistakes along the way. But David's heart remained committed to God and God's Spirit stayed with David. But what was almost missed was the greatest king Israel ever knew because David's dad had already decided David didn't measure up. I guess if you are the youngest of 8 and everyone but you has reached puberty, you are voted least likely to lead the nation. I don't think Jesse was being mean or cruel or even neglectful. He just wasn't being led by the same Spirit that Samuel was. What is the lesson for us? If we want our children to achieve all the greatness they can, we have to be led by the Spirit in our parenting. Which of us really knows what our children will do in the world as adults? Good grief, I'm still trying to figure out what I'm going to be when I grow up. Now, we have been trained to offer our children lots of opportunities for growth: classes, tutors, private lessons, all-stars, performances, contests. But in the midst of offering the world to our children in the effort to create a well-rounded super-human race, are we offering them to God for his use? What potential does God see in our children? What if we, after giving them the world, concluded the day by saying, "You can be anything you want to be when you grow up, just be God's." Then again, maybe we have Jesse all wrong. Maybe Jesse left David in the field precisely because he knew he could be Israel's next king. When I see a political figure or public figure being ripped to shreds by the media or greater population, I sometimes wonder about the pain this is causing her/his family. What do his children think? Does this grieve her parents? You know it does! Maybe Jesse saw Samuel coming and had a parental premonition that one of his kids was about to get a holy oil shower. He thought about his 8 boys and knew (like good parents do) that David was just right for the job. Stronger than his size, smarter than his years, braver than his brothers...maybe Jesse thought if he could just hide David a little longer... Don't you wish we could hide our kids from the world sometimes? Not that they would let us, but it would be nice. Now, I think shielding our kids from darkness in the world is a must. But there is a difference between attentive parenting and helicopter parenting. Hovering isn't helpful. If we want our kids to trust God, we have to trust God with our kids

Walk to Emmaus

Tom Wright, author of Luke for Everyone, asserts that the two travelers on the road to Emmaus were a married couple named Mary and Cleopas. We hear their story at the end of Luke. They get credit for having one of the longest recorded conversations with the risen Jesus. They encounter him the day of his resurrection, and we presume that they are leaving the "festivities" of the weekend, assuming that it was all over. Have you ever had a really bad holiday weekend? Where you made a bunch of plans, maybe including plans about transportation, meals, and gifts. Or maybe your plans included events or meetings with friends. If you're a woman, then these plans also included thoughts about what you would wear and might have precipitated a trip to the mall for some new outfits. But then things went horribly wrong. Someone got sick. Someone missed a flight. Someone got in a wreck. Someone got in a fight. Someone died. My grandmother was always responsible for my best Christmas memories. I'm sure my mother would take issue with the statement that grandmother was responsible for Christmas...but she is absolutely central in my best memories. And she loved Christmas! The house was always decorated and ready, meals prepared for an army, and gifts that filled half the room. It was magical. Her last Christmas on this earth was my 25th Christmas with her. She had customarily decorated, cooked, and wrapped. The WHOLE family was together. We had eaten, unwrapped, eaten, and unwrapped more. The only difference this year had been that grandmother ate with us. Yes, I said that right...she ate with us. She was always too tired to eat with us after all the preparations. But that year she sat right at the head of the table and ate a big plate of food. Then she played games with us. And then she said she was tired and would take a nap. She went upstairs and laid down. A couple of hours later we went to check on her and she had had a massive heart attack. She would never wake up again. She lived another week and died on January 2, the day after her 67th birthday and the day before her 49th wedding anniversary. When I returned to school (I was in seminary), people asked how my Christmas had been. I didn't know how to answer. It was the best Christmas with her I could remember in years. And it was the Christmas I lost her. Someone we love dying during the holidays always colors that holiday for us for the rest of our lives. When the disciples went to Jerusalem for Passover that year, they had no idea that it would be their last one with Jesus. I wonder if they thought it was the best/worst/best Passover of their lives? Which is why I had to chuckle the first time I read Tom Wright's translation of Luke 24:17-18: "You're obviously having a very important discussion on your walk," [Jesus, yet unrecognized] said to them; "What's it all about?" They stood still, a picture of gloom. Then one of them, Cleopas by name, answered him. "You must be the only person around Jerusalem who doesn't know what's been going on there these last few days." Of course, we the readers understand that the "stranger" that Cleopas is talking to is the only one in all the universe who knows the things that had taken place: new creation! World redemption! The defeat of sin and death and hell! But in that moment, only Jesus knew all that had been accomplished. I wonder how often we take our complaints of the worst day ever to God and accuse God of being an absentee parent. "Where were you?" "Why didn't you save me?" "Why have you left me?" "Do you even see what is going on here?" "Hello?!? Are you there?" Jesus was so patient with these two pilgrims, allowing them to come to slow but full recognition of who He was. I think Jesus still does the same for us today. He lovingly, patiently waits for us to be still and know that He is God.

The Cross

The power of the cross. What does a cross say to you when you see one? As a piece of jewelry, as a wall ornament, as tag on a storefront or business card? Do you assume the owner of the object or business is a believer in Jesus? Or do you even give it a second thought?
Have you ever applied all the powerful meaning to the symbol that it is due? Have you assumed, upon seeing a pretty cross necklace, a cross on someone’s back windshield, or a cross tattooed on their arm that they are attempting to communicate: I am a believer in the Lord Jesus! I have been healed, forgiven, and made into a new creation! I place all my faith in Jesus of Nazareth. I not only believe he is who he says he is (Son of God), but I believe he will do what he says he will do (prepare a place in God’s Kingdom for me). I believe that he loves me and I love him with all my heart, mind, soul, and strength!
Maybe we don’t apply that much meaning to the crosses we decorate our lives with because we don’t live our lives with all that meaning. What if we did? I shared in an earlier blog that we recently moved into a new house. A neighbor came over to help me hang pictures. The wall art I have for the family room is predominately crosses or religious themed art work that people have given me or I have collected from churches or mission fields we served in. After about the 3rd box of crosses, she stood up straight, wiped strands of hair from her eyes and said, “You have a lot of crosses.” I laughed. I do. I got to thinking about that fact and said after a minute, “I guess I find my identity in the cross. It’s what I preach, it’s how I live, it’s who I am. Each cross reminds me of some relationship or some experience that has sharpened my faith.”
“That’s really neat,” she responded. “I have a lot of crosses too. I remember where I got most of them I think, but I don’t think I’ve put that much thought or meaning into it.”
Now, I realize that many of the crosses that decorate our environments are just that…decoration. A million people a day see them and one in a million gives it a second glance. Does that cheapen the cross? Does it lessen its value, its power, its meaning? Some have argued that it does. “We shouldn’t wear crosses as jewelry or clothing. Tattoos of crosses are inappropriate (at best), and even the number of crosses in a sanctuary should be limited!” And I agree that we should not cheapen such a beautiful symbol in gaudy or heretical displays.
But I would also argue that the power of the cross remains constant, even if the observer is unaware of it. Each cross proclaims: healing is available; faithfulness is possible; love is what matters most.

John 5: Do you want to be healed? That’s what Jesus asked the man who, for 38 years, had sat immobile at the healing pool of Bethesda. Unable to get to the water himself and without anyone to assist him (broken and lonely), he had resigned himself to a life of begging. Do you want to be healed? So resigned in fact, that when Jesus asked this question, his first response was not ‘Yes!’. It was to argue why he wasn’t already healed…he was a victim of his circumstance. I am glad Jesus’ question wasn’t then (nor is it today), “Why haven’t you healed yourself yet?” Jesus’ death on the cross makes healing available to every person: “But He (talking about Jesus) was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we are healed. (Isaiah 53:4-5)”

2 Timothy 2:13: “Even if we are faithless, God is still faithful because he cannot be false to himself.” Jesus’ death on the cross was not just necessary for our healing. It was also necessary for our atonement. Our Creator made a covenant with us. God has remained faithful. We have consistently broken the covenant. The terms of the covenant were death to all who broke the covenant. But God loved the world so much that came into the world as a human not to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him. God was able, by the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross to keep the terms of the covenant. And this makes a way for us to resume a faithful relationship with God…and everyone else in our lives.

1John 4:16: “… God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God, and God abides in them.” The most powerful force in the universe is the love of God. Nothing is able to stand in the face of God’s love, and yet because of God’s love we are able to stand in the presence of God. A beautiful irony! Do you believe God loves you? You, with all your fears, failures, beauty, brains, scars, struggles, ideas, dreams…you? God loves you. It’s what matters most.

Wandering

Has this ever happened to you? Traveling, singing some awesome song from high school when suddenly, static! You change the channel, hit the scan, even adjust the volume…but it’s gone. Now all that’s on is some strange station singing in a language you don’t understand, an announcer following an amateur golf tournament, and a talking head that seems to hate republicans and democrats equally. And as you drive up and down the hills, you have no choice but to listen to the noise or listen to the silence. You are at the mercy of the space between the towers. You know if you keep going you will eventually find a decent channel again, but will it be as good as your channel…with just the right blend of amusing commercials and music awesomeness? You could turn around…but how will you ever get anywhere if you have to stay within range of your local radio tower? Now, I know this is why things like xm radio and Pandora have been created…but let me just state the obvious: while we have been smart enough to create xm radio, we still are at the mercy of God in our spiritual wilderness. The idea of a spiritual wilderness actually comes from several Biblical accounts of literal wilderness experiences, the 2 most notable being the Hebrew Nation wandering in the wilderness of Sinai for forty years and Jesus wandering in the Judean desert for forty days. Other wilderness accounts in Scripture include Noah on the ark for 40 days, David hiding in the wilderness for months while Saul chased him, Elijah hiding in the wilderness for 40 days after defeating the prophets of Baal, and Jonah laying low in the belly of whale for 3 days. Their literal wilderness experiences give us many spiritual lessons and Scriptural notes for our psychological or spiritual wilderness wanderings. And not all the Scriptural accounts are of literal wildernesses: Job would probably characterize his season of grief and loss as a wilderness wandering. The disciples might likely describe the 10 days between Jesus’ ascension and the coming of the Holy Spirit a spiritual wasteland of fear, anxiety, doubt, and uncertainty. And those are good words for a wilderness experience. The word wilderness denotes a lonliness, vastness, lack of direction. When we are wandering in a psychological or spiritual wilderness we may be surrounded by people, performing our daily tasks, even be accomplishing routine goals. But we feel alone, purposeless, vaguely…vague. Wilderness might also be sensed in a season of waiting. We have sensed that there is something on the horizon. We once were hopeful, full of vision, walking in a forward, determined motion. But the road took an unexpected bend and we lost sight of the tower…and now all we are picking up on is static. The longer the static plays, the more we begin to feel forgotten, abandoned, alone. The message of the wilderness accounts tell us two things: one, they are a part of human experience. If you haven’t ever experienced a wandering of your soul, you should pray that God strengthens you for the one yet to come. That isn’t to say all people lose faith, all people will experience devastating life events, all people will get lost in life. That’s not the only wilderness we might know. One person described spiritual wilderness as living between the trapeze bars. If you imagine the trapeze artist who flies gracefully through the air, releasing one bar only to dazzle her audience by flipping, spinning, and grasping the next, you must force the image to pause while she is suspended in mid air. To the observer on the ground, we may gasp, but that is all we have time for because it is just a moment and she is on to the next attachment. But I can imagine the moment may seem longer to her…the faith to let go of the bar safely in her grip and reach for a bar that is in her vision but not yet in her reach. A million things could go wrong; only one motion can make it right. She’s practiced a thousand times, so her confidence in her grip is strong. But she is also placing a lot of unspoken confidence in a safety net below her to catch her if the bar doesn’t swing like she expected. When was the last time you lived between the trapezes? Another person described the wilderness experience as if they were Linus and their blanket was in the dryer: they had nothing to hold onto. I have a picture in my mind of this: we used to have a Linus in our house. He has outgrown his blanket now, but when he was a little guy, that blanket went everywhere he did…and I mean everywhere. Which meant whenever I could, I had to sneak that blanket into the wash. Nap time was the best time…I could ease the blanket out and hopefully have it returned by the time he woke up. But one day the nap was shorter than the spin cycle and he came looking. I tried distraction, I tried substitutes, but to no avail. He wanted the blanket. I soberly explained it was in the dryer and it would be at least another half hour. The image forever seared onto my brain is of the little guy with his head and hand leaned against the dryer and the other hand in the mouth…same posture as when he held the blanket. Sad. That was a wilderness day for that little guy: he had nothing to hold onto! And for others, the best description is just static. The longer the static plays, the more you can believe you are all alone. Surely if someone else was here, there would be noise, a voice, a cry, something. But static says “alone.” Even silence is more companionable than static. We use white noise machines to drown out other voice and lull ourselves to sleep. Static can convince us that there is nothing to pursue, no one to talk to, nowhere to go. Might as well take a nap. That is one of the temptations of the wilderness: to just set up camp. The other is to turn around and go home. Sure, they only sing Egyptian songs on that radio station, but truth be told, some of those tunes are catchy. Which is why the work of the wilderness is to learn to find the right frequency. If static is all you hear…you’re on the wrong channel. You see, the other message of the Scriptural accounts of the wilderness experience is that while it is a human experience common to all people, it is also a divine experience every time. Lesson two: we are not alone. We are not alone in the wilderness. We feel very alone. We sound alone. We are hungry, thirsty, tired, and lonely. But we’re not alone. I tried to find some record somewhere that God would sometimes leave people even for the briefest moment alone in the wilderness. It’s not there. In fact the opposite is blaringly the case. "If I soar to the heights" exclaimed David, "you are there; if I sink to the depths you are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, even there you find me." "For I am convinced" said Paul, "that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." The mystery, the glory of the incarnation is that Jesus the man was in the wilderness, but so was Jesus the God. God is in our wilderness. He is a whispered promise in a starry sky and sandy beach when we feel too old to try. He is the tentative promise of hope grasped in the delicate beak of a dove finding shelter. He is the cloud by day and fire by night that guides. He is the manna, the quail, the water in a rock…provision so amazingly characteristic that we learn to take it for granted. He is a song in a cave that provides shelter from our enemies. He is oil in a stranger’s jar that is generous and free. He is that which swallows us whole yet deposits us wholly on the shore of our salvation. He is the Living and active Word which nourishes our soul and causes our enemy to flee. He is. That’s what he told Moses. Who should I say is going with us on this journey? "I am. I am with you. To the end." So go ahead. Reach. Scan. Lean on the dryer. We are not alone. Logically of course we can deduce that just because we can’t pick up a radio station doesn’t mean the music stopped. In a few miles, and just over a couple of hills, the music will return. It’s better to keep going. Experience tells us that a better radio station is coming. In the mean time if we must travel in the static, between the trapezes, waiting for the buzzer, we must sing the songs we learned in the city. And that’s how we remember we’re not alone.

Calling

What does the phone ringing do to you? I remember when I used to love the sound of the phone ringing, hoping my mom would call out that it was for me. That was back when the phone hung on the kitchen wall and the blue curly cord would only allow me to go so far to seek the privacy I needed to discuss junior high crushes and other important information. It was a great day when that phone was traded in for a cordless phone! It was white phone with a long retractable silver antenna. The antenna eventually broke, but we could still go to just about any room downstairs and shut the door, then nobody would hear me talking about who he liked, and what she said, and why they did that! Even in college, I waited with baited breath to find out who the phone call was for. Anyone calling my dorm room and asking for me was inviting me into their presence. Either it was a phone call from someone far away like my mother or my best friend at Tulane. Or it was someone down the hall or across campus that wanted to spend time with me. Sometimes it was a phone call from a professor asking for my help, inviting me to join a group, or otherwise acknowledging a gift I might have to offer. I hadn't learned to dread the phone.

I remember the first bad news phone call I received. My mom was on the other end and asked if I had a few moments to talk, that I should sit down, was my roommate with me? This could only be bad news. My mind started spinning. It is amazing how many disaster scenarios the mind can conjure in the brief seconds between "we need to talk" and "here is what happened." A friend of my brother's had been killed in a car accident. We had gone to church together, I had chauffeured him around before he had gotten his driver's license. I cringe to admit I was relieved. Sad, of course, but this did not meet with the dread that overcame me and physically changed the rhythm of my heartbeat. I was quiet. "Are you okay?" "Yes, but I was afraid you were calling to tell me it was my brother or best friend." How did I know it would be such terrible news? "No, I wouldn't tell you that over the phone. I would come to you in person." I have had to deliver that news in person before. As a chaplain at school, as a pastor now, I have received the phone call from the distant relative and had to be the human presence to relay the bad news. And having paid my own phone bill now for nearly 20 years, I have received my fair share of bad news phone calls.

But I don't just assume that the phone is going to bring bad news. Truth be told, I assume the phone ringing is reminding me that I am needed somewhere. Someone is looking for me, I have forgotten something, I need to make space for somebody, can I help? Phones with curly cords have given way to smartphones that display the picture of the person that is calling me. Usually with pretty good accuracy, I can guess the nature of the call by the face that appears. And I've learned to screen. Yes, I will screen your call. I screen my mother, my husband, my best friend. So I will screen you. Don't take it personally, I've just learned that the phone is an invitation, not an obligation. And if it is really important you will leave a message or text me.

I wonder how this affects my attitude when God calls. He has never called my phone, just for the record. Or texted. I have received emails claiming to be from God...but do you really think God forwards? But he has called me. Theologians say He was calling me before I could hear him. "Prevenient grace," says Wesley. My mother says I was talking to God as a very little girl. I consciously remember the first call when I was eight. God called to me, said I needed Him, assured me I could call on him any time. I needed to be forgiven, I needed a best friend, a Father, a Savior. The call resonated somewhere in my eight year old heart and I accepted the call. He invited me to respond, and I willingly joined him. The next time I heard God call was when I was fourteen. He told me that there was a plan for my life that I had not imagined, a place to go that I would be shown if I had the faith to take the first step. Accepting God's call before had brought life, so I assumed this would too. God invited me to join Him where He was working and I accepted. Many other calls have come since. Some major: this is the man I want you to marry; this is the church I want you to serve; this is the school I want you to attend. Some personal: this is the way I want you to parent, this is the way I want you to forgive; this is the way I want you to serve. All were invitational. I could have screened everyone of them. Probably have screened more than I should.

The good news about God calling is that the line travels both ways. When other bad news phone calls arrived, I knew Who to call to lift me up, console me, comfort me, lead me through the valley. When good news phone calls arrived, I have known Who would celebrate with me without a shadow of jealousy or intimidation. And with every call, I have tried to rest on the promise that God is completely aware. Though I may be taken by surprise, knocked to the ground, speechless, God is not. His heart does not race like mine, wondering what the next word will bring. Rather He has waited patiently for me to end my phone call, and turn to Him. Sometimes the moment is simultaneous. Sometimes it takes days, or even weeks. What I am learning is that behind many of those phone calls, God is lurking. A new plan, a new friend, a new trial, a new grief, a new celebration. When I am able to ask with each phone call, "God, is that you," I find I am more able to accept the invitation to join the party.