I would have raised an eyebrow, too, if my children came home from school telling me that their classes had been to a local house of worship for activities, especially if that place's faith tradition had a reputation of doing things like burning the holy book of my faith. So I was glad when the women, clad in headscarves as a way of showing respect to God, came in with their daughters' classes.
They stayed with their daughters' groups throughout the event as we taught peacemaking skills and better ways to get along with one another as we share this planet.
As it happened, that day's staff also included many nursing students from a nearby university who were earning hours in community engagement. By their dress, it was clear to all that they were of the Jewish tradition.
So there, in a the balcony of a little church in an overlooked inner-city neighborhood, practicing Christians, Muslims, and Jews came together for a couple of hours to teach their kids how to live more at peace with one another.
I don't think what happened in the balcony of the church that day happened too many other places on the planet that year. For a few minutes at least, long histories of swords, guns, bombs, and bloodshed were replaced with crayons, jigsaw puzzles, puppets, and laughter as our mutual faith-filled hope for a better world was shared together by teaching kids the ways of peace.
So I have to wonder what other seemingly obscure places peace might be being birthed for a new generation. I shouldn't be surprised, really, that hope for the world might start in such an odd place. After all, I worship a God whose incarnation began in a stable in a small town in Judea.
Thank you, Lord, for letting us witness You in ways we could not have imagined.
Showing posts with label Faith. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Faith. Show all posts
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Monday, March 28, 2011
Supplied
Like so many women that day, she took the little girl's hand and help her pick out the school supplies she'd need for the coming year. They carefully selected folders and notebooks, discussed whether skinny or fat markers would be best, and made thoughtful decisions at each of the different tables where we had set out supplies for free distribution to all kids who came.
Though scenes like this were repeated hundreds of times that afternoon, this one stood out. That's because of what had happened during the six weeks prior.
Each Sunday since the first of the "Back to School" fliers arrived, she came to church carrying a bag with a few school supplies to donate to the cause. And in the end she both gave and received about the same amount of materials.
But she didn't know how much she would receive when she stated to give. And though she really didn't have the money to both buy supplies for her own girl and to give supplies to the drive at the church, she had enough faith to be a part of the giving and humility to accept that which she received.
Her courage showed me how to take a solid Kingdom stance amid a "me first" world. And her simple acts of giving as blessed and receiving as blessing reminded me of the power and the possibility that comes when generosity is a two-way street.
May I live likewise.
Thy Kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven.
Though scenes like this were repeated hundreds of times that afternoon, this one stood out. That's because of what had happened during the six weeks prior.
Each Sunday since the first of the "Back to School" fliers arrived, she came to church carrying a bag with a few school supplies to donate to the cause. And in the end she both gave and received about the same amount of materials.
But she didn't know how much she would receive when she stated to give. And though she really didn't have the money to both buy supplies for her own girl and to give supplies to the drive at the church, she had enough faith to be a part of the giving and humility to accept that which she received.
Her courage showed me how to take a solid Kingdom stance amid a "me first" world. And her simple acts of giving as blessed and receiving as blessing reminded me of the power and the possibility that comes when generosity is a two-way street.
May I live likewise.
Thy Kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Invisible
The principal of the neighborhood elementary school and I were visiting in her office. We were chatting about plans for the upcoming semester, coordinating schedules, and broader neighborhood issues.
While we were talking I mentioned that several students from the school had spent a week in the woods at the church's camp the previous summer.
She asked who had gone and I casually rattled off a list of a half-dozen boys. She stopped, gave me an odd look, stood up, walked over to her desk, picked up a file, and opened it.
She said, "Tell me again who went to the camp?"
She seemed to be checking off the names of the kids in her file as I said them.
She closed the file, looked at me, and said, "I knew something had happened to those boys this summer. There's been something different about them this year. I didn't know what and I've been trying to put my finger on it. Now I know."
I had been at camp that summer. In fact, I had been a cabin counselor to those boys. By the end of the week, the collective prayer of the entire staff was, "Thank God it's over!" It had not gone well.
Or so we thought.
Because sometimes fruit is invisible. Yes, we knew we were trying to plant seeds in the kids lives. But those boys were moving targets the entire week and we were pretty certain they had dodged all the seeds we tried to scatter.
But something took root in them. It might have been something we had sewn or it might have been a seed or two that were drifting on the Wind that we knew nothing about. Or most likely it was some combination thereof.
And the seeds took root. And they bore fruit.
Invisible fruit.
Fruit that none of us at church could see. Fruit that we didn't see out on the streets. Fruit they couldn't really see at the school, but they knew something was there; they just couldn't put a finger on it.
It's in these moments that I get a little hint about the depth of faith and trust we need if we're trying to be about the work of the Kingdom. We need to trust that when we try to sew seeds that once in a while some will take root. We need faith to know that sometimes the fruit is invisible. We need to live in the peace that can come from faith and trust, especially when the fruit is invisible.
And in the midst of the moments when someone notices something different that they just can't put their finger on, we can experience a glimpse and echo of what Isaiah was trying to say when he wrote, "Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf shall be unstopped." (Isaiah 35:5)
Lord, forgive me my desire to always see the fruit of the seeds I've tried to plant on Your behalf. Let me sew seeds in faith and trust today.
While we were talking I mentioned that several students from the school had spent a week in the woods at the church's camp the previous summer.
She asked who had gone and I casually rattled off a list of a half-dozen boys. She stopped, gave me an odd look, stood up, walked over to her desk, picked up a file, and opened it.
She said, "Tell me again who went to the camp?"
She seemed to be checking off the names of the kids in her file as I said them.
She closed the file, looked at me, and said, "I knew something had happened to those boys this summer. There's been something different about them this year. I didn't know what and I've been trying to put my finger on it. Now I know."
I had been at camp that summer. In fact, I had been a cabin counselor to those boys. By the end of the week, the collective prayer of the entire staff was, "Thank God it's over!" It had not gone well.
Or so we thought.
Because sometimes fruit is invisible. Yes, we knew we were trying to plant seeds in the kids lives. But those boys were moving targets the entire week and we were pretty certain they had dodged all the seeds we tried to scatter.
But something took root in them. It might have been something we had sewn or it might have been a seed or two that were drifting on the Wind that we knew nothing about. Or most likely it was some combination thereof.
And the seeds took root. And they bore fruit.
Invisible fruit.
Fruit that none of us at church could see. Fruit that we didn't see out on the streets. Fruit they couldn't really see at the school, but they knew something was there; they just couldn't put a finger on it.
It's in these moments that I get a little hint about the depth of faith and trust we need if we're trying to be about the work of the Kingdom. We need to trust that when we try to sew seeds that once in a while some will take root. We need faith to know that sometimes the fruit is invisible. We need to live in the peace that can come from faith and trust, especially when the fruit is invisible.
And in the midst of the moments when someone notices something different that they just can't put their finger on, we can experience a glimpse and echo of what Isaiah was trying to say when he wrote, "Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf shall be unstopped." (Isaiah 35:5)
Lord, forgive me my desire to always see the fruit of the seeds I've tried to plant on Your behalf. Let me sew seeds in faith and trust today.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Senselessness
She got home just before dawn after completing her night shift on the cleaning staff at the university. She stepped into her 14 year old daughter's room to check on her. What she found was her daughter's body stabbed 17 times in her own bed. Forensics indicated that she had been raped twice prior to being stabbed.
Their pictures on the five o'clock news verified that the name of the deceased was indeed the girl I was remembering. She and her mom hadn't been in church for a while so I had to double check which block she lived on before going to the house.
Quite a crowd had gathered out along the curb. Flowers and stuffed animals had already begun to be piled high on the sidewalk in front of the downstairs window. I worked my way through those milling and those loitering in search of a familiar face.
The mom was visiting with everyone until she saw me. At that point, she grabbed hold of me and wept. My legs held both of us upright.
Several minutes later a Cadillac pulled up to the curb. Our city counsel representative emerged to express her condolences. At that point, the mom released her grip and again began visiting with the growing crowd.
The day's heat and humidity hung heavy in the air. The crowd was restless and its agitation was growing. It felt like things were on the verge of going out of control. I didn't know what to do so I went home and kept my other appointments previously scheduled for that evening.
I think this is the point in da 'votion where I'm supposed to connect the story to some more universal principal. I'm supposed to point out the Spirit's action or the role of the Church or something like that.
I'm not that smart. Making sense of what happened is well beyond my understanding of God and the capacity of the English language.
I do, however, need to go back in my mind to that night once in a while. I don't go back to it to try to figure it out any more. The world doesn't fit neatly into the boxes we construct in our mind. Like the writer of Ecclesiastes, I sometimes need to just acknowledge the senselessness of the human condition and choose faith in the midst of it.
God, I don't understand things most of the time. In the midst of senselessness, help me to choose You.
Their pictures on the five o'clock news verified that the name of the deceased was indeed the girl I was remembering. She and her mom hadn't been in church for a while so I had to double check which block she lived on before going to the house.
Quite a crowd had gathered out along the curb. Flowers and stuffed animals had already begun to be piled high on the sidewalk in front of the downstairs window. I worked my way through those milling and those loitering in search of a familiar face.
The mom was visiting with everyone until she saw me. At that point, she grabbed hold of me and wept. My legs held both of us upright.
Several minutes later a Cadillac pulled up to the curb. Our city counsel representative emerged to express her condolences. At that point, the mom released her grip and again began visiting with the growing crowd.
The day's heat and humidity hung heavy in the air. The crowd was restless and its agitation was growing. It felt like things were on the verge of going out of control. I didn't know what to do so I went home and kept my other appointments previously scheduled for that evening.
I think this is the point in da 'votion where I'm supposed to connect the story to some more universal principal. I'm supposed to point out the Spirit's action or the role of the Church or something like that.
I'm not that smart. Making sense of what happened is well beyond my understanding of God and the capacity of the English language.
I do, however, need to go back in my mind to that night once in a while. I don't go back to it to try to figure it out any more. The world doesn't fit neatly into the boxes we construct in our mind. Like the writer of Ecclesiastes, I sometimes need to just acknowledge the senselessness of the human condition and choose faith in the midst of it.
God, I don't understand things most of the time. In the midst of senselessness, help me to choose You.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Underestimate
To say I was hesitant to teach about finances, especially tithing, in the middle of a neighborhood listed as the 7th highest concentration of poverty in the US was an understatement. I had decided not to do it.
Initially, this was fine. Many "ministers" had scammed people in the area over the years and when I arrived the already established policy at the church was to not ask for money from those who gathered. This was healthy, appropriate, and good.
WAS.
I had a growing conviction that the season for hesitation was over and that I needed to teach people to give. I was not interested in doing so. For over a year I wrestled with God, and argued with my conscience, and all but printed out charts and graphs to justify my mind's decision.
The Spirit's conviction wasn't all that interested in my thoughts and feelings on the subject.
I finally stood before the congregation and told them that I had to confess before them (THAT always gets their attention!). I told them of my wrestling with a topic I needed to teach but didn't want to. I apologized and told them that the day's sermon topic was on money.
At that point, everyone ---- EVERYONE ---- perked up. The group that had gathered that day was riveted as we talked about tithing and first fruits and savings and the responsibilities the come with material positions.
The real shocker for me came the next Sunday. After that service I opened the little offering box and it had more than just a few dollars in it. It was no where near our expenses for the week but it was a seven-fold increase over the previous week.
I didn't know how to feel: Happy that people had responded? Guilty wondering if it was more than people could afford? Humbled at the sacrifice? Encouraged by the sense of ownership people displayed? Thankful for the bounty? The Spirit said, "Peace."
The Sunday after that, the amount given doubled again. Two families in the congregation privately told me that they had committed themselves to tithe.
Now, I'm not a prosperity preacher; I don't believe that that size of your faith determines the size of your Cadillac. But whenever we step out in faith the Spirit blesses us in wonderful and mysterious ways. And within two months of those families having followed the Spirit's conviction and faithfully committed to tithing, each had been given a car. These gifts were unsolicited, didn't come from people in church, and were complete surprises.
And I didn't know how to feel then, either. I think the reason for that is the same reason I wrestled with teaching about money in the first place.
That reason is my tendency to underestimate God. It comes out of my own foolishness and faithlessness. We read in Isaiah 55:8 "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the LORD." NIV Because His ways are (thankfully!) so different from mine I can't predict what He will do or how He will do it.
I guess that's where faith comes in. It took faith from a variety of people to let this story come to light. Faith to follow the Spirit to teach an uncomfortable subject. Faith to tithe. Faith to recognize the source of the blessing. Faith to watch for the Spirit's movement despite underestimating what He will do.
Lord, as I journey with You help me to look beyond what I can see, trusting in Your ways and never underestimating what You might do.
Initially, this was fine. Many "ministers" had scammed people in the area over the years and when I arrived the already established policy at the church was to not ask for money from those who gathered. This was healthy, appropriate, and good.
WAS.
I had a growing conviction that the season for hesitation was over and that I needed to teach people to give. I was not interested in doing so. For over a year I wrestled with God, and argued with my conscience, and all but printed out charts and graphs to justify my mind's decision.
The Spirit's conviction wasn't all that interested in my thoughts and feelings on the subject.
I finally stood before the congregation and told them that I had to confess before them (THAT always gets their attention!). I told them of my wrestling with a topic I needed to teach but didn't want to. I apologized and told them that the day's sermon topic was on money.
At that point, everyone ---- EVERYONE ---- perked up. The group that had gathered that day was riveted as we talked about tithing and first fruits and savings and the responsibilities the come with material positions.
The real shocker for me came the next Sunday. After that service I opened the little offering box and it had more than just a few dollars in it. It was no where near our expenses for the week but it was a seven-fold increase over the previous week.
I didn't know how to feel: Happy that people had responded? Guilty wondering if it was more than people could afford? Humbled at the sacrifice? Encouraged by the sense of ownership people displayed? Thankful for the bounty? The Spirit said, "Peace."
The Sunday after that, the amount given doubled again. Two families in the congregation privately told me that they had committed themselves to tithe.
Now, I'm not a prosperity preacher; I don't believe that that size of your faith determines the size of your Cadillac. But whenever we step out in faith the Spirit blesses us in wonderful and mysterious ways. And within two months of those families having followed the Spirit's conviction and faithfully committed to tithing, each had been given a car. These gifts were unsolicited, didn't come from people in church, and were complete surprises.
And I didn't know how to feel then, either. I think the reason for that is the same reason I wrestled with teaching about money in the first place.
That reason is my tendency to underestimate God. It comes out of my own foolishness and faithlessness. We read in Isaiah 55:8 "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the LORD." NIV Because His ways are (thankfully!) so different from mine I can't predict what He will do or how He will do it.
I guess that's where faith comes in. It took faith from a variety of people to let this story come to light. Faith to follow the Spirit to teach an uncomfortable subject. Faith to tithe. Faith to recognize the source of the blessing. Faith to watch for the Spirit's movement despite underestimating what He will do.
Lord, as I journey with You help me to look beyond what I can see, trusting in Your ways and never underestimating what You might do.
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