Clothe Yourself With...

And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in the one body. And be thankful.  Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom; and with gratitude in your hearts sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God.  And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.

Colossians 3:15-17 (NRSV)

This is today’s scripture reading in The Upper Room daily devotion.  It’s a passage that has special meaning for me. When Steve and I were planning our marriage ceremony, our pastor suggested a number of very familiar Scripture passages, but he added that there were many lists of others appropriate for weddings.  So I started looking at some of those lists, and we chose Colossians 3:12-17. For a wedding present, the pastor and his wife gave us a small clay pitcher inscribed with words from this passage. I think I chose this passage, hoping and praying that Steve and I could live out the same type of love and grace in our marriage that Paul describes.

Earlier in Colossians, Paul reminded the New Christians that in their baptism, they “had died” and “been raised with Christ.”  Their new self, celebrating its interdependence within the “one body” of Christ, should generously brim with love, humility, and patience, and literally sing with gratitude! As members of a true Christian community they were urged to reorient their lives around Christ, living their lives in harmony with each other.  Just as they were urged, and because we too have been raised with Christ, we are to seek heavenly ways of being with one another. See why I hoped and prayed that Steve and I could live out this type of life together?

As the hands and feet of Christ present in the here and now, we are to clothe ourselves with “compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience.”  What an awesome responsibility:  to be compassionate, humble, gentle and kind everywhere and all the time. Paul several times tells the early Christians to "clothe themselves" with behaviors and practices indicative of their status as "God's chosen ones."  All these things take time and considerable practice to “put on.”  They must be learned and practiced intentionally.  Sometimes it is very hard to wear these garments – to put them on, keep them from becoming too small, not allow the waistband to bind or the static to cling to our bodies.  Think about it:

• Kindness gets a little bothersome like the tag in a shirt when people share their displeasure with your actions.
• Gentleness gets itchy like wool when personalities or opinions differ.
•  And forget humble when your name is plastered all over e-mail and brochures and contact information!

Passages like Colossians 3:15-17 are the core of being people on a faith journey: a journey that is sometimes easy to “wear” – we can just slide right into it -- and sometimes very difficult to put on – and keep on.  The clothing of “compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience” sometimes fits well and at other times causes us to be really uncomfortable. Our prayer should always be that we find the ways to live out this type of life which is woven together into community - into the kingdom of God in the here and now - as we follow the risen Christ. 

The End of Lent from Martha’s Perspective

The lectionary readings for this coming Sunday are among my favorite passages of Scripture.  The passages are familiar, including Ezekiel in the valley of dry bones and Jesus giving new life to Lazarus. I know especially that the stories of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus come before me at the times they do to remind me of priorities.  Over the years, I’ve come to realize just how much like the biblical Martha I am.  I know we share many of the same personality traits.

Back in 1995, we were just beginning to introduce drama into worship at Shady Grove.  That’s when we were still a small church and didn’t have many potential participants to choose from - those brave enough to try this new adventure.  That year, we planned big!  A local man, known for his portrayals of Jesus, was asked to be with us for all the Sundays of Lent and for Holy Week services.  There were to be dramatic presentations of the Gospel readings each week.  The account of the raising of Lazarus was one of the presentations.  I was Martha; Mary and Lazarus were played by a young couple in the church, who by the way were expecting their first child.  Like with so many church dramas, that adds a whole new twist to the Scripture – a pregnant Mary...not the mother of Jesus.  Several years later we were asked to be Mary and Martha again, this time in the account from later in John’s Gospel of Mary anointing Jesus’ feet with perfume.  Mary was pregnant again – so at least we were consistent.

We had practiced and practiced the story.  Mary and I were to enter, crying over the death of our brother.  Lazarus was inside a make-shift tomb.  When we took our places and Jesus came toward us, I was to move to him, grab him by the arms, and say that powerful line, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”  I was overly concerned with the details – especially how to make myself cry before coming in.  On the final practice, I was trying my best to do everything perfectly.  And here I am, running up to the man who to me looked and acted exactly like what I see Jesus being like – a gentle spirit full of compassion with a radiant face – reaching out to comfort his grieving friend – and as lift my eyes and begin to speak, Patrick blurts out, “You’ve got the most beautiful blue eyes!”  That took all of the drama right out of the story.  Now, whenever I read the story, I see Jesus talking about Martha’s eyes before acknowledging her grief and anger.  But that’s what I needed at that moment.  I was too caught up in the details – the need to make the tears flow, to keep the headpiece on, and say the lines at the right time.  The details had become more important than the message.  Just like Martha in the biblical story…in all the stories we know about Martha, Mary and Lazarus.

I have came to see more and more of myself in Martha.  There was her obsession with order – everything had to be perfect in the house in order to show her hospitality.  There was always something to do – preserving tradition, making a stable home, feeling like she had to do it all herself and being upset with Mary when she didn’t help and went to listen to Jesus.  Being thrown into “stress overdrive” preparing for Jesus’ visit with all the mundane tasks that she thought had to be done.  Feeling the need to be the one to handle all the details, to be responsible, even down to making sure Jesus knew that there would be a foul odor if the tomb was open.  Can you see her wanting to believe that Lazarus could be brought back to life, wanting more time with him, wanting to know Jesus would make everything right, but being concerned over the smell?  Oh, do I see myself in this description.  Do you? 

Here at the end of another season of lent, I see Martha all through my life again.  I see those personality traits coming out stronger and stronger.  I’m getting closer to the valley of the dry bones.  I need these stories again this week to bring my perspective back in line.  Those personality traits that I share with the “other Martha” have come out in full force.  Maybe they have for you, too.  It’s at those times, I have to remind myself that God is the one in control.  That God will work according to God’s time, not mine, and according to God’s desires, not my attempts and wishes to do it my way.  Jesus taught Martha the importance of taking time for reflection and prayer, for being with those you love and enjoying the time you have together, for focusing on God’s priorities.  The lesson for Martha was that there will always be mundane tasks necessary for living and working in this world.  That’s life.  There will always be things that don’t go according to our plans.  That’s life.  But of what value is life if there is no meaning.

In this final week of Lent, I need to be stopped, to bring things back into perspective.  Like how Jesus stops Martha and the people of Bethany by showing them that not only could he heal the sick, which they had no problem believing that he could do, but that he could also raise the dead.  Jesus not only revived Lazarus but Martha and Mary and all the people gathered that day.  We, too, get stuck in the tomb. We get lost in the details of life, obsessed with the busyness.  We travel to the valley of dry bones where Ezekiel went, and see as Ezekiel saw, as all of Israel saw, only dry old bones.  We believe in the mighty power of God and in Jesus, but we still lose our perspective. Let us remember in these final days of Lent to give thanks that God is not yet done with us, that we have the opportunity each and every minute of every day to be revived – to see the light of a new day, a new way, a new perspective.

The Unknowns

Every time I begin to feel settled in discerning where God is calling me, something happens that starts my questioning all over again.  It happened again this past weekend, brought on by a combination of frustration, stress, and physical tiredness. One person after another has caused me to seriously consider my role in God’s world and in the church.  One situation after another leads me to reflect on where my life is at this moment and which direction God wants it to take. I was reminded of the story of Abram in Genesis 12:1-6.

God told Abram: “Leave your country, your family, and your father’s home for a land that I will show you.

    I’ll make you a great nation
 and bless you.
 

    I’ll make you famous;
 you’ll be a blessing.
    

    I’ll bless those who bless you;
 those who curse you I’ll curse.
    

    All the families of the Earth
 will be blessed through you.”

So Abram left just as God said, and Lot left with him. Abram was seventy-five years old when he left Haran. Abram took his wife Sarai and his nephew Lot with him, along with all the possessions and people they had gotten in Haran, and set out for the land of Canaan and arrived safe and sound. (The Message).

Abram is asked to leave everything and everyone he knew to go into a strange place based upon God’s call. Abram is told first and foremost that he must be willing to go, to leave the places in his life that were safe and comfortable, and to question the status quo. He must journey toward a place that is radically different from what he has known.  There is little security in these promises, only unknowns.  There is no certainty on Abram’s part.  He must trust the one who calls him. God does not inform him of his destination in advance, but asks him for trust and a willingness to head toward the unknown. It is hard to imagine a more radical command: give up everything and go toward the place that God will show you.

A Spiritual Director I worked with after General Conference in 2008 asked me to consider a question that has continued to guide my thinking:  “Where do you feel you can have the most impact in helping others experience what it means to be a follower of Christ?”   I haven't found the complete answer yet.  Maybe I never will, but I’ll keep asking and listening for God’s call. We have to look inside our hearts and determine how God through Christ is calling us to serve – to be in ministry. So in light Abram’s story, I'm asking myself three questions and encourage you to do the same.

What is my own sense of call as a follower of Christ? – Abram was 75 years old when this call came. Here he is, an older man, being called to leave everything he knew.  Can’t you hear the questions and arguments Abram must have thrown toward God?  “God, I’m 75.  What do you expect of me?”  “I’ve built this house, this farm, and now you tell me I have to leave it all behind?”  “I’m too old to do this, call a younger guy.”  What is God calling me to do to build God’s kingdom on earth?

What are the unknowns?  - We don’t know what tomorrow holds, but our faith tells us that God will see us through whatever happens. The unknowns – while frightening and stressful –open the doors to spiritual growth that we might not otherwise ever experience.

What might I need to leave behind?  - God’s call on our lives does not offer a guarantee of security, no promise of ease or convenience. Instead, it asks us to shatter the idols of security and settledness, and to aspire to a different kind of reality. What do I need to leave behind in order to respond to God’s call?

We’re not all called to greatness.  Unlike Abram, our names may not be great among the nations, but as children of God  we are called to faithfulness.  We’re called to be authentic followers of Christ so that others will want to know more about this God we choose to serve. May our words and actions each day and for all time show that we’re listening to that call.

Making a Home for God

I received a letter today from a member of a church still struggling with the community’s past – a history of racism that is still alive in many ways.  As I read, I was reminded of the words of Ephesians 2:19-21 from Eugene Peterson’s The Message:

You’re no longer strangers or outsiders.  You belong here, with as much right to the name Christian as anyone.  God is building a home.  God’s using us all – irrespective of how we got here – in what he is building.  God used the apostles and prophets for the foundation.  Now, God’s using you, fitting you in brick by brick, stone by stone, with Christ Jesus as the cornerstone that holds all the parts together.

Have you ever felt like the “stranger,” the “outsider” – maybe within the church, at home, or in the community?  I know you have. We have all at some time felt that we don’t fit in for some reason – the way we look, the clothes we wear, our chosen lifestyle – because of the person we are.

When I was a little girl, my family would go to visit my great aunt on Fire Island, NY.  The most exciting part of the trip for me was not seeing the sights of the big city or greeting the family, but parking the car in Manhattan and taking the boat over to the island.  There were no cars allowed there so you had to take everything you needed by boat.  That was a VERY foreign thing to do for a young child from Henry County!

We would be greeted by our relatives at the dock. As soon as we arrived at the house, my cousins, all of whom were a few years older, would drag one of the ottomans into the center of the living room, sit me down on it, and say, “TALK.”  Now, I don’t know why they thought I sounded so funny…but I certainly felt like the outsider in that place.

Whenever we as Christians seriously consider the question of who should be included as full and equal partners, connected with the living God, in our dwelling place, Paul’s words about Christ having “broken down the dividing wall of hostility” ought to move us toward the elimination of various prejudicial barriers.  A Christianity obedient to Christ’s peacemaking life, death, and resurrection must view each and every human being as one for whom Christ died.  Remember Peterson’s words?  We ALL “belong here….God’s using us all – irrespective of how we got here – in what he is building.”

If our lives and our churches are serious about making a home for God, that will always mean making room at the table for all people – including some folks we might not expect.  The Letter to the Ephesians describes a faith community that has become a dwelling place for God’s Spirit.  The images are of reconciliation, peace, inclusion. The church which makes a home for Christ also makes room for the “least of these” in whom Jesus said we would meet him.  Those who once were considered strangers and outsiders will have a place at the table next to us and will change us.

If we make our lives a home for God, with Christ as the cornerstone, we will become partners with God in shaping this world.  We take responsibility for our future, recognizing that the decisions we make every day will either allow God’s dwelling place to be made real on earth or they prevent it.  

“For God so LOVED the WORLD…”

Two words have stood out to me during the last week: “loved” and “world.”  Maybe it’s due to the world situation; maybe it’s because of the people I’ve communicated with and been around; maybe it’s because today is World Cancer Day or because it’s Heart Havens Month; or maybe it’s just where I am in my faith journey.

The word “love” as it is used is not love as an emotion or feeling or concept.  Rather it is love in ACTION; love that is willing to become vulnerable – even to suffering. God’s only son, Jesus, was sent into the world so that EVERYONE who believes can have eternal life. There are no limitations put on God’s love.  It is for the whole world, not a single state or country; not a specific group of people or faith community; not for those who have certain gifts and abilities; but for the entire WORLD.

When Jesus touched lepers, when he healed on the Sabbath, when he ate with those who were outcast from society, when he marched into Jerusalem and confronted the religious leaders, when he did these things and so many more, he became vulnerable to pain and suffering.  That’s what genuine love does. It takes risks.  And it has to start where we are, with the person sitting next to us in church, with the person walking beside you down the sidewalk, with the person living next to you in the community.

When we love one another, we show that we are no longer motivated by fear. You see, fear often holds us back from loving each other.  We fear people who are different from us, so we stereotype them instead of love them.  One of my favorite lines from a movie comes from the film, My Dog Skip. Skip is a Jack Russell Terrier puppy given to a young boy named Willie.  As both of them grow, they learn many of life’s lessons together.  At one point in the movie, Willie’s father is talking to a neighbor who has recently returned from World War I.  The father makes the statement, “Give a man a label and you never really have to get to know him.”  How often do we do that – give people labels so that we do not have to get to know them?  

This past Sunday was Disability Awareness Sunday in the Virginia Conference UMC.  While my church did not recognize this special Sunday, we did celebrate Holy Communion.  I was reminded of how personally meaningful taking part in Communion services was at my home church in the Danville District when Kira Lynn was a server.  We grew up together in the church and at the local swimming pool where I can still remember Kira Lynn trying to teach my mother to swim.  Her father was the doctor that brought me into this world.  There was always something very special to me about being offered the bread or juice by Kira Lynn who, by the way, has Down Syndrome.  It was a living reminder that we are all brothers and sisters in Christ; that our differences don’t matter.  It was a reminder of the gift of God’s unconditional love and acceptance AND the responsibility that comes with it to live our lives according to the example of Jesus.  Each time I received the elements from her, I realized once again that God doesn’t care what we look like, how much money we make, where we live, or how much education we have.  What matters is that we carry the same type of love into our world today that God showed to us in offering Christ for our sins.  

Fear or love? Only you can decide, but the world is waiting.

Hurry and Come Down!

I just found out that today is Squirrel Appreciation Day.  I didn’t know until moments ago that this happens every January 21st.  I am SO EXCITED to know that there is a day set aside to enjoy and appreciate my neighborhood squirrels.  Should have known something special was happening by the way our dog took out after one of those little creatures early this morning! 

I think of squirrels and trees together, and this afternoon, that’s making me think of Zacchaeus. Vertically challenged, Zacchaeus, as the story goes in Luke 19:1-10, climbs a sycamore tree to see Jesus as he passes through town.  Jesus notices this guy, calls him by name, and invites himself over to his house.  Everybody complains about it.  Zacchaeus could have stayed up in that tree and not accepted Jesus’ invitation.  Plenty of people do.  It’s much easier to go on with our lives and continue with our own agendas than to allow Jesus to invite himself over to our house to stay.

Zacchaeus decides to come down from the tree and because of this encounter with Jesus, his life is changed.  So my question today is this:  Are we up the tree still waiting for Jesus to walk by and transform the world OR are we in a true relationship with Jesus that transforms our lives and calls us to change the world?

We’re all a little like Zacchaeus, trying to see Jesus from a distance – often getting ourselves up into trees and needing Jesus to come by and call us back down to earth, back down to an honest relationship with him. People who decide to stay in the trees look down upon the world – our global community – and wait for Jesus to return – to enter Jericho again – in order to bring forth the Kingdom of God.  They say, “The world is in such turmoil.  I can’t do anything about it.”  I personally think it’s up to us to bring forth the Kingdom of God.

If we’ve come down from our tree and are in true relationship with Jesus, we see what is happening in the world around us and know our voices and actions can make a difference.  When we take our role as United Methodist Christians in a global society seriously, we can’t sit in our trees and wait for someone else to fix things.  We’re called to be advocates for social justice.  We question things that are happening in our world. When Jesus calls us into relationship with our neighbors around the world, we are called to act on behalf of all God’s children.  When we come down from the branches of the trees, we are called to compassion.  

When we come down from the trees, we realize a life dedicated to Christ is more than just 1 hour on Sunday morning.  The church is all of us, growing and learning through worship and discipleship, prayer, Bible study, and fellowship. When we come down from the trees, we realize the church isn’t made up of only 1 person – one leader, one staff person, one ministry.  In order to be the church God intends for us to be, we all have to be involved – to offer our service, our presence – no matter what our age or ability level. 

Zacchaeus accepted Jesus’ invitation to come down from the tree and be in relationship with him.  And Zacchaeus was changed. Are we different because Jesus has called us down from the trees? When we accept the invitation to share a meal with Jesus, are we really ready to admit that our way of acting as Christ’s followers in the world isn’t always what it should be and try in the days ahead to respond differently?

Jesus still says, “Hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today” and always.  How will you respond? 

Photos and Faithfulness

I spent a good part of last night looking at pictures of the new baby in our family with my mother – on my iPhone, using the 23Snaps application…not the box of old black and whites along with original Polaroids that I used to sit and go through with her.  How many photo collections do you have – whether in a scrapbook, on your computer, in Snapfish publications, in phone or tablet apps, or on Facebook? There are lots of choices for photo albums these days. Do you ever look through the pictures, remembering the people and events that shaped your life? 

 

Contemporary Christian singer, Steve Green released an album in 1988 dedicated to his parents called Find Us Faithful. Green and his six siblings spent much of their early lives in Argentina where their parents were missionaries.  On a mission trip to South America, he heard part of a song that Jon Mohr was working on. The refrain states:

“May all who come behind us find us faithful

May the fire of our devotion light their way

May the footprints that we leave

Lead them to believe

And the lives we live inspire them to obey

Oh may all who come behind us find us faithful.”

I have sung this song several times and am struck each time by the line: “May the footprints that we leave - lead them to believe - and the lives we live inspire them to obey.”

Whose footprints have led you to this point in your faith journey? Who are the witnesses in your life?  Who has shared their stories and lives with you, making a difference in the person you have become?  Who has shown you by word and action what it means to be a disciple of Jesus for the transformation of the world? There are so many people whose footprints are etched forever on my heart. They make up the photographs in my photo album of faith.

January 9th marks the 53rd anniversary of my birth.  It seems that with each passing year, I ask myself more and more about the footprints that I am leaving on this earth. 

• Who will say that I have been a witness to them? 
• Who will look back over their lives and say it was because of me that they know Jesus? 
• Who will say years from now that I was faithful to the Gospel message and made a difference in their lives? 
• Who will say that my life mattered – not because of the possessions I gained, the degrees I earned, or the job I held – but because I touched them in a powerful way by my actions and witness as a Christian?
• Who will have my picture in their album of faith?
• Who will have your picture in their album?

“May the footprints that we leave

Lead them to believe

And the lives we live inspire them to obey

Oh may all who come behind us find us faithful.”