Advent: Hope

I remember being a child and waiting, waiting, waiting for Christmas Day to arrive. I tried really hard to wait patiently. Along the way, Mom got a bunch of those small-sized candy canes and we put them on the tree -- just enough for each of us to have one candy cane from the tree each day until Christmas. That candy cane tradition was a lesson in hope, in finding joy each day of the waiting while still focused with anticipation of what was yet to come.

Advent is a time of remembering, experiencing, and cultivating hope. We remember the many years of waiting for the promised Messiah, and God's faithful fulfillment of His promises. We experience the hope of knowing God in the here and now while also anticipating Christ's eventual return. And as we cultivate hope as we respond to God's promises and character.

Hope is a transformative thing, and I am excited to see what God does as we wait with expectation.

Peace in the Midst - Audio

Dr. Diehl is devoted to Jesus Christ, an experienced preacher/pastor/minister, and a grandfatherly storyteller. He has served in full-time ministry for much of his adult life, including some very challenging roles. I was glad to hear some of his story as he spoke a few weeks back in Nampa, Idaho. I wrote just briefly then about his Wednesday talk, and the audio of Dr. Diehl is available now here.

Sanctuary

"I can't talk with other people about this. They wouldn't understand."

I've heard words like these many times -- and have expressed them some myself, too -- about addiction, abuse, fear, doubt, family trouble, and all sorts of other troubling issues. Though I don't always say it, my internal response is usually "You'd be surprised."

Working in a residential treatment center, serving in hospital chaplaincy, ministering in churches, and talking with friends, I've found the sentiment to be a common one, and it is based on the lie that everyone else has it all together. In hiding from each other, we hide from ourselves and from God, too. We can create barriers that keep us from reaching out even when we're so close. It's an awfully lonely way to live.

Anne Jackson describes the historical right of sanctuary in the Christian church, which defended criminals from execution or other unfair judgment and provided a place for criminals to find refuge until they received pardon or fair punishment. Churches still call their meeting places "sanctuaries," and I love how Jackson describes it:

"Church is a place for us to claim

the right of a modern-day sanctuary

where we can name our sins or ask our questions

and be protected and sheltered while we search

for grace, forgiveness, and answers."

The Church is not a building; it is people who follow God. And Jackson's word describe pretty well the kind of people I want to be.

Generations

I stood on the church lawn recently and watched a group playing games together. The youngest was four years old, I think, and the oldest in his forties. Others representing an even broader range of ages sat and stood nearby, talking and laughing as they watched the fun.

What captured my heart on that afternoon was the interactions within the group. Leaders of all ages made modifications as needed to include the littlest ones. Young children looked up to teens and adults, and found friendly faces smiling back at them. Interactions in all directions reflected genuine respect and affection.

The demographics of Rosewood Lane have shifted during the past year or two. It's exciting to have such a variety of ages coming together now for worship on Sunday mornings, from preschoolers all the way to folks in their eighties, with people from every decade in between. All of them are important at Rosewood Lane.

I love the generational variety, especially as it is lived out in congregational community. Some of the teens have led the way by making space for children within their circles of friends. Seniors play an important part as grandparents and grandparent-like figures in the lives of children, teens, and even adults. Children of all ages figure out ways to play together, not just with others in the same class. In all of it, older ones usually watch out for younger ones.

We're learning together about biblical community. I think what I see here is both part of that process and a reflection of it.

Considering Together

The Sunday School class I facilitate is rather predictable, in a way. After prayer each week, we read a passage from the Bible, usually in a few different translations, and talk about it. The conversation starts with four questions:

What captured your heart?

What captured your mind?

What did you notice?

What questions do you have?

And then we go from there. We talk about the passage, compare translations, consider how the message intersects with our lives.

That's where it becomes much less predictable, because the discussion is significantly shaped by each person's contributions.

A few things I can pretty much count on, though... We'll have a great group of people. Most or all will participate at some point. Each will bring a unique perspective. A sense of community will be developed, with new arrivals being welcomed and existing relationships being strengthened. And we'll be changed in the process.

I love this class!

At the Border, Part 2

The biblical book of Numbers has a reputation for being boring, and that reputation is largely undeserved.  Yes, there are lists of names which are often difficult to read and follow, but there is a lot of meaty story, too.

Within the broader story, the Israelites have escaped from their slavery in Egypt and are heading -- slowly, as it turns out -- toward Canaan.  At God's command, Moses sends a handful of leaders to scout out the land.  The group spends some time discovering what is ahead -- the towns, the soil, the trees, the fruit, the people -- and returns with its report:  "We went into the land to which you sent us, and it does flow with milk and honey!"  They brought back some apparently impressive fruit, too.  The men who had done the exploring were clearly quite impressed with Canaan.

The report continues: "But the people who live there are powerful, and the cities are fortified and very large."  They all agreed that they would likely encounter significant opposition.  While they admired the land, most didn't believe they could have it.  Only two of them -- Caleb and Joshua -- believed they could move forward at God's direction with God's help.

The group's admiration of the land makes sense.  The land promised to them by God was indeed wonderful, and could provide very well for their massive group.  The fear of the majority in the group is also normal and natural.  They saw powerful people and large, fortified cities.  They worried that they might be defeated.  The differences in perspective within the group is not unusual, and it is appropriate to consider the various perspectives among them, to respect each other enough to allow the truth of their fear to be spoken as they figure out what to do next.  So far, that's probably all okay.

But it doesn't stay that way, because rather than recognizing and dealing appropriately with their fear, those who hesitated "spread among the Israelites a bad report about the land they had explored.  They said, 'The land we explored devours those living in it....  We seemed like grasshoppers in our own eyes, and we looked the same to them.'"  Rather than acknowledging their fears and pondering the possibilities together, the foothold of their fears became a stronghold as they stirred up dissension to the point that the whole community started into some pretty serious grumbling.  Through that process, they started to believe that their fears were representative of reality, and allowed those fears to dominate their thoughts.  They started talking foolishly: "Wouldn't it be better for us to go back to Egypt?  We should choose a leader and go back to Egypt."

Back to Egypt?  Seriously?  The land of slavery and oppression?  The place they had miraculously escaped?  The land God had miraculously brought them out of? And this same God promised the great land they'd just explored? What were they thinking??

In the end, they didn't turn around and go back to Egypt, but they also weren't able to really move forward, either.  Their willingness to give in to their fears rather than seek God's direction, exacerbated by banding together with like-minded people, had serious consequences (Numbers 14:20-24).

Human beings are created for relationship and community.  We are designed to work together, to share our ideas, fears, hopes, experiences and perspectives with each other.  Partnering with others is to be a very good thing, a healthy and natural part of who we are.  At the same time, there is also a risk of allowing distortion and distraction to develop when we trust ourselves and others more than God.

Anticipating Together Time

We have been talking about getting folks together from the various Nazarene churches in Utah on a Sunday evening as a united congregation to worship God and enjoy relationships also with each other.  Details are still unknown, but I imagine it will include great music, some time in scripture, a few introductions, food, and conversation.  I am looking forward to this time together.

"There is one body and one Spirit -- just as you were called to one hope when you were called -- one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all." (Ephesians 4:4-6)

At the Border

I drove to Idaho again this week, and was struck yet again by the contrast in a section of land along the way:

Looking north from I-84

It reminds me of when my family moved during one summer twenty-some years ago from the very rainy Washington coast to the desert on its eastern side.  With 84 inches of rain per year, the coastal town was consistently and thoroughly forested.  With only 8 inches of precipitation per year, the eastern side is naturally marked more by sagebrush.  As we drove east across the state, our surroundings shifted from a lush green to more of a pale brown.

There was a place in the journey where the colors shifted back, though.  Where the Columbia Basin Project brings water to irrigate the fertile ground, an otherwise barren land produces well, and the impact is clear, even visible from far above, from the distinct line created.  There was a particular place on the trip that I looked forward to each time we drove it -- cresting a hill and seeing the green line ahead where farmland began.

Satellite picture, with new hometown near center

The soil in that area contains many nutrients and the climate provides plenty of sun during the growing season.  For so many years, this region had much farming potential, but something was missing.  Only when it was watered could that potential be realized.

Dr. Diehl talked last night (Numbers 13-14) about the Israelites on the border of the land God had promised to give to them.  He had gotten them out of slavery and sustained them as they moved together toward the place that was to be their new home.  Now all they had to do was go, trusting God to carry through what He had promised.

They had everything they needed, but had left God out of their calculations.  The potential was there, but they failed to realize it because they left out the "water" needed to make it grow.

As we take time in these days to intentionally focus on God, and to seek and pursue where He calls, Dr. Diehl invited us to take the next step forward in faith, wherever that next step may be in each of our lives.

Peace in the Midst

Camp Meetings have been significant in Nazarene history and this tradition still continues in a variety of forms. From what I understand, people would travel to a particular place and camp out there for a week or two with the intent and expectation of focusing on God through worship, preaching, community, rest, etc. Some of the details have changed over time, but this purpose has remained. This is a good thing.

Curious, seeking space to focus on God, and having a few flexible days available this year, I decided to attend and experience this event which has clearly been influential in the lives of many over the years.

Dr. Diehl is speaking this year. He talked last night about peace that comes from God and told some of his own story. He talked about being saved, and he talked about being sanctified. Then, in that context, he talked about grieving the death of his son. He told us that no matter how "spiritual" we are, it hurts to be hurt. That's just part of being human.

Dr. Jim Diehl

I think we need to hear that, and to acknowledge it. Life sometimes throws awfully difficult stuff, and everyone experiences this to some degree. To try to sweep the hurt under the rug, or to pretend that it doesn't matter, is to lie about reality.

Dr. Diehl spoke truth about hurt. He also spoke truth about peace. He loves his son and grieves Dave's death. Dr. Diehl's God-given peace is not an absence of struggle, but in the midst of it. It's also not just nice-sounding-but-distant theology; he is living it. He knows what he is talking about.

There is much more I could say, but... not now, not here. The service (at least the preaching part) was recorded last night and will be available soon. Let me know if you're interested.

Rightly Troubled

God chose a man named Saul to lead the Israelites as their first king, and Saul led.  He did some good things in leadership, but then drifted away from full obedience to God and toward reliance on himself (1 Samuel 13).  It would take awhile, but Saul's rule would eventually come to an end.

"Then the word of the Lord came to Samuel: 'I am grieved that I have made Saul king, because he has turned away from me and has not carried out my instructions.'  Samuel was troubled, and he cried out to the Lord all that night.  Early in the morning Samuel got up and went to meet Saul..." (1 Samuel 15:10-12a).

Saul messed up.  It was not just an error in judgment; it was sin.  His behavior was wrong, and so was his heart.

What scripture tells next matters deeply:

The Lord was grieved.

Samuel was troubled by what grieved God.

Samuel cried out to the Lord, and did so all night long.

In the midst of his grief, and after prayer, Samuel took action.

With Pastor Joel's series on "Indispensable People," I think this phrase might describe Samuel here.  When Saul went astray, Samuel neither ignored the behavior nor despised the man.  He recognized the magnitude of what had happened and was appropriately troubled by it.  He prayed, intensely.  And, when it was right, he approached Saul.  He anchored himself to truth when it was difficult, maintaining boundaries while genuinely mourning a very real loss.

We need people like that -- people who value God and others enough to stand for what is right, who are genuinely righteous, whose response to those who stray from God is grief rather than arrogance -- and we are called to be people like that.

Big Church

Miss Allison
leading a kids' lesson

Children's ministries has its own language sometimes, and one common term is "Big Church."  It usually describes the main worship service, and distinguishes it from "children's church" -- a separate space where kids sometimes go to worship together with other young people in ways designed to communicate in developmentally appropriate ways.

Big Church can feel like a foreign place to children (and adults) who have not been there before.  It is a different environment with different actions and expectations than they typically experience in other parts of their lives.  As a result, it's not surprising that kids' responses to Big Church are sometimes disruptive.  It takes time and guidance to integrate.

Important relationships,
useful skills

Sometimes the disruptions are frustrating, but I love that we intentionally include children in Big Church.  With investment from their parents and others, kids can recognize that they have a place in the congregation, too, that they belong here, that they are important to the rest of us and to God.  They also can see church as something bigger than their naturally kid-centered worlds.

SLC Impact
worship team

I'm having a Big Church experience of my own this summer as I join in worship with other congregations in our area while their pastors are away.  Each group has its own unique people, congregational culture, and other variations.  Those environments are a little different from Rosewood Lane, and it takes a little effort to integrate.  Sometimes these differences create little disruptions, I suppose.  But, like with the children, it is worth the investment.  I trust each Sunday that I will both find and create hospitable space in my interactions with others, and I love seeing the bigger picture of God at work in other local congregations.  It is good to be in Big Church.

It reminds me, too, of our denomination as a whole, which introduces even bigger levels of "Big Church" -- not just individuals gathering together, but local churches joining to form districts, districts forming regions, and ultimately people of congregations in over 150 world areas uniting together in common purposes of worship, learning, and service.  It is through such partnership that we become able to engage in ministry so much bigger than any individual or congregation, ultimately reaching around the world.

It doesn't stop there, of course, because Big Church is not limited to our global denomination.  Our focus is on God Himself rather than on our organization.  We join in spirit with other Christians, both locally and around the world.

Big Church is indeed really, really big.

Look at Me

The Bible's story of Job is an ancient one of a righteous man struggling through some serious losses.  He trusts God and yet has a hard time reconciling his experience with his understanding of God's nature.  When Job's friends Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar hear about his troubles, they come to sympathize with him and comfort him.  They weep and sit quietly with him, joining in his grief (Job 2:11-13).  They "mourn with those who mourn" (Romans 12:15).

They weep for days.  Then, eventually, Job speaks.  He feels his losses deeply and cannot fathom why all those awful things have happened to him.  He begins to put words to his grief and wrestle with how God could possibly allow such things in his life.  Job doesn't curse God; he simply and honestly expresses being troubled by a very difficult situation.  After all, he says,

"Does a wild donkey bray when it has grass,

or an ox bellow when it has fodder?"  (Job 6:5)

Unfortunately, his friends, who had so patiently and sympathetically sat with him in his mourning, now feel compelled to argue, insisting that Job has somehow brought all of this trouble upon himself.  They try to explain away his grief by explaining away the situation.  Not surprisingly, this approach is not helpful.

So... why do Job's friends do that?  Why do all of them feel compelled to chime in?  Why all the extended speeches after their chatter-less compassion?  Perhaps, as Job suggests, they were afraid, for the challenge Job presented was not just to his own faith, but to theirs as well:

"Now you too have proved to be of no help;

you see something dreadful and are afraid."  (Job 6:21)

Perhaps, too, Job's friends have become so defensive that they lose sight of the reality of his pain.  Perhaps they have begun talking abstractly, talking to themselves more than to Job, speaking to theology more than to a human being.  Perhaps.


Job's words early in this conversation catch my attention:

"But now be so kind as to look at me..."
(Job 6:28)

Job does not need information in this time nearly so much as he needs consolation.  He can be consoled first not by doctrine but by the empathetic presence of friends willing to acknowledge that life is sometimes horribly unfair, and Job naturally has an awfully hard time with that.

Sometimes a quiet, gentle presence is the most difficult gift to give, and the most important one we can offer.

Called Out, Called Into

"Do not mistreat an alien [also translated "foreigner" or "stranger" or "sojourner"] or oppress him, for you were aliens in Egypt." (Exodus 22:21)

It is pretty natural to respond to injustice with similar injustice, hurting others as we have been hurt.  Now that they were out of slavery, it would have been pretty natural for the Israelites to have mistreated or oppressed the aliens among them.  But God called them to a different standard, to a new way of life.  He called them out of the established order of things and into His design.

God calls us to the same -- to a life of both experiencing His grace and extending it to others.

Little By Little

When I was young, perhaps five or six years old, we adopted a dog named Bear.  Bear was a mix of Samoyed and Great Pyrenees breeds -- all white, quite large, and very strong.  I was excited to have a dog again and, of course, wanted to be the one holding the leash as we walked to the car.  Somehow I talked my way into that, promising to hold on really, really tight and not let go.  And, true to my word, that is what I did.  The dog hadn't committed to anything, though, and took off down the street in an unfamiliar town, with me determinedly holding tight and desperately trying to keep up.  It became abundantly clear to me in those moments that I could handle a dog this size only if the dog agreed, and he clearly hadn't done that.

On a related note...

God had brought the Israelites out of Egyptian slavery after they had lived in Egypt for hundreds of years.  Now they were out on their own and needed to become established in ways that would help them to live and function together as a people.  There was much instruction given, and with many associated promises.  Among those were God's promises to guide them and to give them the land.  Unlike the escape from Egypt, though, this one would be more gradual, for "Little by little I will drive [the people living in the land] out before you, until you have increased enough to take possession of the land" (Exodus 23:30).

Like a six-year-old girl with an unwieldy eighty-pound dog, the Israelites were not fully ready for the land that would be theirs.  They would need to work their way up to it, beginning with just a portion and expanding from there.  They needed to grow into it.

It reminds me of the biblical instruction to be faithful in the "little" things, for only those who are faithful with a little can be trusted with more.  This idea is common in talking about stewardship of material goods, but is relevant to far more.  I think today of relationships and of ministries, and of conversations.  When I desire greater depth in relationships, greater impact in ministries, greater authenticity in conversations, it is worth considering how I choose to respond in those I have already.

I don't want to settle for superficial relationships rather than doing the work of pursuing depth.  I don't want to settle for mediocre ministry rather than investing both wisely and wholeheartedly for greater impact.  I don't want to settle for lame conversations rather than showing up as myself and inviting others to do the same.

God has much in store.  Let's be faithful with what we have, and become ready for the rest.

But God...

At the home of friends, I saw a small poster with the words "but God...!" and a scripture reference.  I was interested, and made a mental note to look up the verse.

And then... I forgot it.

It came to mind again several times in the months following, so I finally did a search at Bible Gateway.  Turns out the phrase comes up around sixty times in the NIV.

Sixty is a decently large number.  "But" is a conjunction, connecting two thoughts with contrast and often suggesting something contrary to expectation.  I've been sitting with that awhile now.  It seems to describe God pretty well -- unpredictable, unexpected, unwilling to fit in the safe little boxes I sometimes foolishly create for Him in my mind.

Perhaps I'll take a little trip through the "but God" passages, and see what I find there.

Challenging Grace

Saul was a devoted and disciplined man, thoroughly committed to the task he had taken on -- persecuting anyone he could find that followed Jesus.  Then, while traveling one day, he suddenly hit a crisis time when he encountered God, lost his sight, and was instructed to wait.

Meanwhile, a man named Ananias didn't know these details of the story.  He just knew the part about Saul coming after people like him.  God spoke to Ananias, too -- not to tell him the whole story or the outcome, but to give him just enough, which was mostly some really challenging instructions.

What happened next seems pretty miraculous to me:  "Then Ananias went to the house [where Saul was] and entered it.  Placing his hands on Saul, he said, 'Brother Saul, the Lord... has sent me so that you may see again and be filled with the Holy Spirit.'"

Seriously, amazingly miraculous!  "Then Ananias went to the house [where Saul was] and entered it.  Placing his hands on Saul, he said, 'Brother Saul, the Lord... has sent me so that you may see again and be filled with the Holy Spirit.'"

In faith, Ananias sought out one who had been expressing "murderous threats."

In faith, Ananias drew close to Saul and reached out to touch him.

In faith, Ananias addressed Saul as "brother."

In faith, Ananias conveyed blessings that God had planned for Saul -- of sight and of the Holy Spirit.

Ananias had strong reasons to avoid Saul, to remain distant in every way, to address him as enemy, to rain down curses.  But when God called, Ananias acted in faith and obedience.  And "immediately, something like scales fell from Saul's eyes, and he could see again.  He got up and was baptized, and after taking some food, he regained his strength."

Saul regaining his sight is pretty significant.  But what captures me today is how God chose to work through the person of Ananias, and how Ananias agreed to join in.  Today I am captured again by grace, and challenged again to join wholeheartedly with God in the "ministry of reconciliation."

(The story of Saul and Ananias is found in Acts 9:1-19.)

-- Debi

Good Friday

Good Friday is a somber day, remembering Jesus’ death by crucifixion.  I remember trying to explain it to a former co-worker several years ago, something like this:  “It is a time to remember and honor the death of Jesus, so Good Friday services are usually like a funeral.”  But that doesn’t seem quite right, because I haven’t been to a lot of funerals as persistently somber and dark as Good Friday.  Perhaps the mood of a typical Good Friday service isn’t like a funeral so much as it’s like a funeral would have been if Jesus had stayed in the tomb.  In Good Friday and the day following, we acknowledge the despair of the time between the certainty of Jesus’ death and the hope-giving miracle of his resurrection.

I am grateful for Good Friday because life still includes times when everything seems to be turned upside down, hopes dashed, outcome uncertain, salvation not yet apparent.  We celebrate the joy of Christ’s birth at Christmas, and his resurrection on Easter – these are absolutely foundational to Christian hope.  It is good, too, to respect the in-between times.

Editing History?

Mark found a 13-digit number in our family room today and we wondered about it.  I looked it up as an ISBN search -- no luck with that, but I did find an interesting link:

Screenshot

It's the "edit your history" part that caught my attention.  Sometimes I wish there were an "edit my history" link for life.  There are things I regret, things I've said and done that I wish I could go back and undo, things I regret having not said or done.

Life doesn't have such a button, so I want to choose my words and actions well.

There is something else here, too -- the gift of grace.  Because of God's grace, I don't need to edit or block history.  I have a God and some friends with whom I can be open about where I've been, acknowledging what I wish were different about it without pretending it didn't happen.

Healthy honesty helps me to move forward in the right direction and at peace.

Christmas Season: Second Sunday

In our culture, we tend to build up to Christmas and then move on to the new year on December 26. Traditionally, though, the celebration has been carried on in various ways for eleven more days. January 2 is the second Sunday of the Christmas Season. Here are the lectionary readings:
Jeremiah 31:7-14
Psalm 147:12-20
Ephesians 1:3-14
John 1:1-18
You can read them here.