Ever felt like doing church has become complicated? Ever felt like doing church has supplanted being the Church?
Gabe and I were reading his bible, a section entitled, "The First Church". Simply written, the four page, largely illustrated account, records that the new believers gathered together, under the tutelage of The 12, to be the Church by participating in the following:
...study the Scriptures, learn about God and His plans, pray, sing songs and praises to God, eat, and celebrate the Lord's supper.
"They shared everything they had with each other, and God added more and more believers to the Church every day."
There is something about being the Church to each other that is attractive to the world.
I love being the church at home. One of my favorite times is reading the stories and teachings of Jesus with my family. I hadn't thought of this much--had taken it for granted really--but this is being the Church of Jesus to each other. When we talk about Jesus helping people, consider how we may do the same, and then go out and do it, well, we're being the Church.
I am also overwhelmed at times by the Spirit's reach through my oldest daughter. Within the context of our night time tradition of me praying for her and tucking her in, we often find ourselves in deep heart-felt discussion about real life and God's perspective into it all. As she reflects on her social circles, we are often discussing how she reflects Jesus to her friends and how they are ministering to each other. We are often moved to pray into those relationships and the lives of her friends, believing God to move and touch them and her in a special way as emerging faith meets the gritty pavement of life.
How is God using you and your family to attract others to Jesus? What simple ways is the Lord using you to be the Church to those around you?
Are there opportunities that He is giving that you might be overlooking in the search for something more "significant"?
How is God at work around you, and what is He saying to you as you observe what is going on around you?
"Jesus said it's good to help people," says Gabe after a time of reading the Good Samaritan story and listening prayer afterward. Very simple. Very direct. I love child-like faith, don't you? Interpretation is unclouded and practical.
Gabe has been part of a community helpers class this semester, and he is really tracking what it means to help others. And in practical ways. The thread of that experience is being woven into his interaction at home as well as his thought processes throughout the day as we are out and about. Even in the grocery store the other day, he commented on how he saw the clerk helping another shopper find what they needed. So fun to watch the connections!
My mind is like a train yard. Lots of tracks coming through, some parallel and others criss-crossing. So it's easy for me to make the jump from Samaritan to Romans. That said, as we shared our reflections and hearts this morning, I got to thinking of Romans 6:13, "present the members of your body as instruments of righteousness". A question then emerged, and then another, like train cars being linked up I guess.
Instruments? Musical, surgical, mechanical?
Members of my body? Hands, feet, head, elbows?
Identified, how have I used them for doing good?
Who is my neighbor?
Are there ways in which God might be stirring me to use the members of my body to help others? What has He commanded already towards this end?
What stories do I have of spontaneous opportunities to help others along the way? How have I been intentional in helping others? Gabe wants to go out and look for ways to help others. What ideas do you have for serving others?
What do you think? How have you used the members of your body to help others recently? Gabe and I would love to hear your thoughts!
“For this is the will of God, that by doing good you may put to silence the ignorance of foolish men...” 1 Peter 2:15 NKJV
HOT OFF THE PRESS...As I was writing this, an opportunity arose here at home that is worth noting. The very child aforementioned had a crisis, a much-sensationalized one at that. The milking of emotions often gets on our nerves, honestly. But I was quickly prompted--as I gazed upon the tear-laced and sobbing face--that he needed the instruments of my arms to hold and comfort him, overplayed or not. And another of my children needed the instrument of my mouth to instruct on how to loving express displeasure with the lack of following instruction.
In the end, both responded to the grace of God. Forgiveness was asked for and received. Reconciliation was attained in that moment. And my mouth affirmed the choices to open hearts and arms to each other.
God at work in the smallest and often taken-for-granted moments.
For fun...
What instrument do you think best describes our personality?
As you have considered the "members" of your body, can you see any of them as instruments? instruments does each remind you of?
"But Jesus stayed where he was for two more days"! (Beginner's Bible)
Jesus was late?! He knew his friend was sick. He got the word that death was imminent. And he delayed?
Gabe and I have a morning routine--ish. After getting Abby hooked up with her instant breakfast drink and her friends Curious George, the Cat in the Hat, and Clifford the Big Red Dog, Gabe and I sit down to breakfast. Cereal and toast will work just fine for him, but to go the extra mile--to mix up a batch of baked oatmeal, French toast or pancakes--really makes his day.
Traditionally, Gabe will ask if I want some coffee, or volunteer to top me off. He loves serving! Then he reaches over to the windowsill, grabs his bible and hands it to me for our daily reading, while he proceeds to engage his morning meal. A very pleasant process for him.
Cycling through the New Testament, we read one story there for sure. Some times we pick a random story from the Old, or skip back or forward based on what stirs for him as his mind pieces things together. Currently, we're on our second time through, and one of my favorite stories to read with Gabe is that of Lazarus. This morning I was captured afresh.
Have you ever had that sense while reading something for the umpteenth time, that you somehow missed an elementary truth all those other times? "How could I have not seen that before?" And more often than not, my times with Gabe are like this. Perhaps it is the simplicity of the stories and our focus on just one of them rather than marathon reading. Either way, slowing down has opened up so many new insights for me.
So here we are reading. First, I am struck by the fact that these three siblings were very close friends of Jesus, yet not in His inner circle of those known as His 12. Loved by Him. Validated by Him. Not following Him around like Matthew, Mark, John and the gang. Well, there's a lot to unpack here I realize, so I'll save it for another time. The big impact for me this morning? Jesus was late!
Lazarus was dying.
How urgent the circumstances seemed. In deed, how urgent they were for Jesus' dear friends. Surely He would come when they called. He loved them. They were close. And they needed Him more now than ever.
They sent for him. They waited for His prompt response. But wait, the messenger returned...alone! Alone? Surely He's not far behind right? "He's not coming? Not now, not tomorrow?!" How could this be? It doesn't compute! We're desperate here (heads spinning in disbelief)!!! ...and Lazarus slips beyond the realm of hope and timely salvation into death. It's too late.
Unbelievable. Jesus was late. Numbness sets in. Grief is made more bitter by the questions that now surround these disappointed expectations. Perhaps His love for them is questioned. We don't know, though we can imagine a bit. What we do know is that they were troubled and grieved. When He finally arrived, "Martha went to (Jesus). She was crying. Martha said to Jesus, 'My dear brother has died. If you had been here, you could have healed him!'"
In the blink of an eye, I saw our current circumstances, as if from above. Our family in what seems like an 11th hour--sometimes even beyond--situation. We expected Him to arrive in August when things seemed ill. But surely He would come in October as our strength began to fail. Still not here? "Death" seems certain--for our dreams, our hopes, our provision.
But in this story of Lazarus there is hope.
Fast forward.
Even after death, Jesus' love is profound. Even after death, His care is certain. Even after death, His provision is sure. And through it all--in the end--in what was very real and dire human need, Jesus was seen for who He really was. When He came through in a different timing all together, I must realize, "Everyone was amazed". And, "Many people believed in Jesus that day."
So what is required for Jesus to come through? My greatest hope is that our belief, our faith and that of those looking on our situation, will be enhanced--that Jesus will be seen for who He is when this is all said and done. He has come through before, but this time the circumstances are different. Yet, "His love never changes, it never gives up, it never runs out on me". May we rest in His love, our relationship with Him in this hour and the next, whatever time may bring. And may Jesus be seen for who He is--loving, caring, good, and kind.
Storms. Much is anticipated when a storm's approach is announced. Much is feared and geared up for when imminent destruction is proclaimed. We braced for the worst, at least as far as we could perceive. We hunkered down. Yet deep inside was a strange absence of the anxiety we thought would invade our home. (Which was a huge relief in light of the other storms life has been throwing at us recently.)
The winds came. The rains fell. The lights flickered. But here there was no havoc here. Other than a few leaves gracing our back yard, the only "limb" down was an annoying dead branch for which we have long hoped for it's felling. In a way, this storm was a blessing for us--needed pruning and family time. For us it was a five day weekend, a strange sort of holiday (a friend in Florida announced their experience as a "hurrication")--a luxury afforded only to those who have not experienced a direct hit. But for others it was a nightmare.
Storms touch each of us differently. While our house and family were unscathed through Sandy's historical rampage of the Eastern seaboard, many friends and others were hugely impacted by "her" force. Our children marveled at the photos shared on social networking sites and newscasts. Gratitude settled deep in our hearts as we heard stories ranging from hours of lights out to total destruction of property and loss of life. But compassion emerged too.
Our children began to recognize the needs of others in all of this, even offered their small savings accounts as aid to those in need--coffers that had been committed numerous times already, far exceeding their accumulated value. As adults who have weathered storms, awe and even horror struck our heart strings. Our initial relief and celebration gave way to compassion as we imagined ourselves in some of those scenes, felt the fear and pain of their stories. Others were so terrible that we couldn't even begin to imagine what they were going through.
In deed, storms effect each of us differently. Yet in the end, we are all touched by them. Whether at ground zero or on the fringes of Sandy, may we all have the grace and wisdom to know how to respond; may we all have the eyes to see what God is doing. And may our faith find the way to express itself in love for those in need.
