Making Up For Lost Time

As a kid I attended more than my fair share of lame church Harvest Parties, which were meant to serve as some kind of substitute for Trick-or-Treating. Let me tell ya, there's nothing like dressing up as a bible character and eating donuts off a string… It was better than nothing, yet still left something to be desired.

This year for Halloween, I decided it was time to start making up for lost fun. On Friday night I went Trick-or-Treating with friends’ kids. I selflessly (wink, wink) helped “lighten the load” whenever the candy buckets became too heavy to carry as we went door-to-door collecting the goods. I also helped pass out candy to the kids who came to our door(s). Tons of fun! Though, I must admit, I was amazed at how many kids skipped the “Trick or Treat” line all together and simply made a mad dash for the candy. A bit disheartening, but not enough to dampen my spirits!

Tonight I went to a Halloween party at another friend’s house dressed, from head to toe, as a cat. This was never my intention! I was merely looking for a simple mask to wear. Somehow I ended up in a skin-tight, leopard body suit which I ended up wearing all night long! I’m placing all blame on my friend, Tina, for this one. However, I must admit, it feels good to be making up for lost time. :)

Pictures of Grace

This morning I went to New Hope Fellowship, a small church gathering made up of homeless/low income folks who meet at the Green Briar Community Center. What a beautiful picture of grace, freedom and uninhibited worship! I was reminded of the heart of the gospel in a way I have been missing for a long time. There was no pretense here, no social hierarchy games, no need to have it all together… rather a deep, joyful, simple, overwhelming sense of grace.

Mike took a smoke break in the middle of the service.

The girl to the left of me was wearing sweatpants.

A number of people were reading out of turn on the responsive reading.

We sang along with a DVD.

Someone whose name I can’t remember informed me that he was already putting together a sermon for the next time he got a chance to preach. The topic: “We have to be thankful for the little things.”

Baby Madison was to be baptized during this service, so the sermon was on baptism. I couldn’t help but remember the words of my friend Mark from the Boston Rescue Mission as he reflected on his own baptism a few years earlier, “Something about a new beginning sounded good to me...” In a past season of my life, I used to volunteer at the Boston Rescue Mission. I was reminded this morning of how much I miss this kind of environment and further, how much I need to be in this kind of environment - otherwise I’m prone to miss this grace thing completely.

All You Have to do is Call

“Winter, spring, summer or fall, all you have to do is call, and I’ll be there…You’ve got a friend.” – Carole King

In my short, ten-year driving career, I seem to have had more than my fair share of car trouble, which might have something to do with the fact that I’m always driving used cars that are usually at least ten years old. At any rate, living in NH and having car trouble was a pain in the arse, but I always knew there was someone I could call: Dad. I recall a certain 2am phone call after I blew a rod through my engine on the highway. Dear old Dad, my Knight in shining armor, awoke from his slumber and drove an hour and half to come and pick me up.

Now I live in Northern VA, near DC. Sometimes I think about this fact and feel like an incredibly strong, independent, liberated woman out here on my own. And then, inevitably, something will happen – as it did last night – that brings me right back to a place of humility and healthy dependence. Yesterday afternoon my car started acting funny. At first, I thought I’d imagined it, but no, there was definitely a hiccup when I tried to accelerate. Gradually it became more pronounced until my check engine light came on. By now dusk was giving into darkness and I found myself on the side of an unfamiliar road, with no flashlight and no extra oil. What to do? Who to call? My friend, Matt, mechanic extraordinaire, was one of the first names to come to mind. He picked up right away and walked me through several under-the-hood checks in an effort to diagnose the problem. Then he called our friend, Mike, who graciously agreed to pick up some oil (though we later discovered that was not the problem) and come get me. Eventually we got the car home. First thing this morning I received a text from Matt, checking to make sure I made it home ok and letting me know that he was going to get his “card reader” (whatever that is) to help me diagnose the problem.

As I unwind the past day, I can’t help but gather in all the goodness and light in gratitude. It means the world to me to be stuck on the side of the road and know that there are friends I can call.

My Italian Mama

I don't know why my mother includes me on some of her email forwards. God, I love that woman, but sometimes I wonder what she's thinking! Last night she sent me some inciting fwd going on and on about how, "This is the scariest election we as Christians have ever had to face, and from the looks of the polls, the Christians aren't voting Christian values!"

I'm an idiot. I hit "reply all" and wrote: "Another perspective to keep in mind while we pray: http://www.brianmclaren.net/archives/blog/why-im-voting-for-obama-and-why.html" And now it's me against the world (of my mom's friends). Received this reply: "Another perspective. See video at www.catholicvote.com" To which I responded (excerpt): "With all due respect, my purpose in replying to all with the pro-Obama link was simply to suggest that being a solid Christian who votes 'Christian values' is NOT necessarily synonymous with voting Republican (as the language in the initial email would seem to suggest). I am for life - absolutely. But I do NOT relegate my 'pro-life' stance solely to the issue of abortion. When we unpack the buzzword 'moral issues' we have to be honest; we have to affirm life everywhere we see it: in the homeless man on the street, in the child soldier in Uganda, in the welfare mom, in the immigrant child who has no papers to prove citizenship... When I take ALL of these issues into account, I may very well end up voting for Obama. Does that make me any less of a Christian? Does that mean I care any less about 'moral issues' and 'Christian values'? Just my two cents. Take it for whatever it's worth!" I almost added, "Constantine tried to regulate morality with less than stellar results. I dare say, we would do well to learn from history." but thought better of it.

I'm not big on politics. I'm beginning to think I should have just kept my thoughts to myself, but I'm in the middle of this now so might as well go all the way.

These Days

I’ve been waiting for the right time - an inspirational moment - to get back into the swing of things with my blog entries. Between last night and today, I’ve been apprehended by two seemingly intertwined “blog worthy” reflections:

#1
Today we celebrated and baptized two of our youngest members at Common Table Church: Madeline and CJ. This beautiful, interactive service really touched me. Among other things, some of the words Mike spoke as a blessing over CJ struck a chord in my heart: “And like Jacob, may you wrestle with God and all of the questions that a genuine relationship with God brings. May you bring your whole self to God, to bathe naked in the stream of God’s grace, and to learn to flow with that love and energy. And too, may you welcome others into these same waters.”

#2
As I was going through my mail last night, I was thrilled to open a large envelope from my friend, Naomi, containing a copy of a beautiful piece she had painted. I can’t even begin to detail the shit that Naomi has been through in her life, suffice to say, her brother is currently in prison awaiting trial; he will receive either life or a death sentence. Perhaps it’s because I know some of the back story on this painting that I am so touched by it:




Naomi included a note:
“Jen, I’m so glad my painting has touched you…The painting is titled, “Arms of Love”. I hope that whether in good times or bad that you will often feel the Lord’s loving arms tighten around you and hold you close…”

1 + 2 =
Indeed, wrestling with God and questioning seems, to me, to be a vital part of trying to live out a genuine relationship with Him. In the absence of answers and in the midst of wrestling, sometimes it’s comforting to simply know that “God weeps too”.

I know this is such a melancholy note on which to re-enter the blogging scene, but it’s real, and it’s what I’m thinking about these days.

Weakness in the Christmas Story

Last Christmas, after spending a good deal of time in the academic world, I was struck with the portion of the Christmas story involving the wise men. I connected with the fact that God appeared to the learned and the wise and that He calls us to love him with our minds --not ignore them in the name of "faith".

In stark contrast, this year I am captured by the underlying theme of weakness that we find woven throughout the narrative of the incarnation. If I were to freeze-frame scenes in which I find weakness in the Christmas story, I would highlight the following characters at distinct points as this drama unfolds:

Elizabeth - barren, old, frail; ostracized for her empty womb...

Zachariah - an honorable priest; struck mute, unable to communicate in spoken word due to his lack of faith...

Shepherds - humble men of humble means; scared shitless in their fields at the sudden the appearance of angels...

Mary - a very pregnant, young, working class girl; riding on a donkey as her contractions begin...

Joseph - a new husband, a carpenter with rough hands; suddenly forced to play "midwife" in a stable...

Jesus - a helpless little baby wrapped in rags; sucking at his mother's breast...

Indeed, baby Jesus is the epitome of weakness. (Though, admittedly, the question "How much heaven and how much earth were in this baby at his birth?" has been widely debated.)

This year I relate to weakness, and I am grateful beyond belief for these scenes that call to me from the Christmas story. I take comfort in these scenes because there is, I believe, a paradoxical strength to be found in and through weakness -- even if we can't see it at the time. Weak, dependant, helpless little baby Jesus gets me. Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting father, Prince of Peace became weak. He gives me strength; He makes me strong.

[Jesus], being in very nature God,
did not consider equality with God something to be grasped,

but made himself nothing,
taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness.
And being found in appearance as a man,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to death—
even death on a cross!
Therefore God exalted him to the highest place
and gave him the name that is above every name,

that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,

and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father.

- Phil. 2:6-11

awayinafrica

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