The Power of God vs. Faith

I'm preaching this Sunday on, "The Power of God."

When I used to teach teachers how to teach Sunday School I would warn them that during the week leading up to their message, God desired to interact in their daily lives with the lessons they were preparing for the children for Sunday.  It was a warning because some days teachers were teaching difficult lessons like, "Peter in Prison Praising God" or "God Loved a Man Named Job" or "Be Joyful in all Situations."  Teachers picked up packets knowing that God was going to give them lots of "material" during the week to bring the lesson to life and show that the Bible is not only applicable- but it (and God!) is active and alive.

When I first read the title Pastor Joe gave me, "The Power of God," I thought, "well that can't be too bad."

All day today I have sat at my desk reading through fantastic stories of God's power in the Old Testament and then that same power demonstrated through Jesus Christ in the New Testament.

Yet, while I type, I am simultaneously watching my phone for incoming messages from my sister-in-law on my nephew who is in the hospital.

I have to remind myself that faith is not necessarily answers or understanding, but standing in the tension of what I know to be true about God and what I'm actually experiencing.

Biblical faith is not determined by the "amount" of faith I personally have, but instead by what (or who) my faith is in. Which is why my measly mustard seed of faith, put at the foot of the cross, can cause the miraculous to come to pass.

Years ago I heard a sermon on Galatians 2:20 that has forever stuck with me. It wasn't until I picked up an NT Wright book that it all came together in my head and is making some sense.

"I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me."

The sermon went something like this: see that small prepositional word "in?" Correctly translated, a better word for the context of the sentence is the article "of" which shows to whom the faith belongs. "I live by faith of the Son of God." It's not my faith- but His faith.

“On that day you will realize that I am in my Father and you are in me, and I am in you.” John 14:20

I am hidden in Christ and can trust in Him. Even when I feel most vulnerable, or most uncertain, my faith does not rest in my personal situation or measly human capabilities- but in (of) the Son of God.  

"Faith by itself is no good - especially if it is faith in a god who is as powerless as a block of wood! What matters is the Creator God, who is the object of faith."  - N.T. Wright, Small Faith Great God

Despite my sometimes faltering personal faith, I serve a great, powerful and constant God and He is the basis of my faith.

God, reveal your power to my nephew!

Love and prayers to you, Matthew!

Join with me.

As I hear more and more reports of the devastation going on in Iraq, I pace the floor of my comfortable Clovis home and wonder what can I do?

When I first began hearing about the atrocities of the ISIS, I admit that my initial reaction was, "Can that really be happening?"

I don't consider myself a history buff, but I do know that phrase, "Can that really be happening?" is not new to our history.  That very phrase was uttered by thousands in the early 1930's as reports seeped in about the Nazi concentration camps.  Living in the San Joaquin I am keenly aware of the Armenian Genocide that also coined phrases like, "Did that really happen?"

"All it takes for evil to succeed is for a good man to do nothing."  ~ Edmund Burke

The atrocities of mankind can be so extreme, if it is not directly affecting us, we would prefer to simply turn our heads and ignore the human injustice that is plaguing an entire generation of people.

That's just the problem, even if it is not directly affecting us- it could be us any day. As a fellow human-being, it should deeply bother us to see reports coming out of Iraq!  Regardless if the refugees are Christian or Muslim, Jewish or Buddhist, these are souls who are being knocked-off and disregarded.  If you, as a Christian, believe that classic, "Jesus Love the Little Children" song, then we should be responding to the cry of tens of thousands of people being driven from their homes to die of dehydration!

The most recent report I heard said that the Yazidis refugees have two days before they will all be dead.  Two days!  My "donation check" will not even clear in two days!  

I haven't even mentioned the over 100,000 Christians who have fled from their homes in fear of the ISIS.

This is real.

So what do we do?  We certainly do not avoid the uncomfortable reality going on around the other side of the globe.  That's what we did before World War II and look how well that turned out for countless Jews.  

Two weeks ago for Dietrich Bonhoeffer's birthday I read this quote:  

“Silence in the face of evil is itself evil: God will not hold us guiltless. Not to speak is to act.  Not to act is to act.”  ~ Dietrich Bonhoeffer

One of the many lessons Bonhoeffer taught me as I read through his biography is that people matter.  Part of my role as a Christian is to stand up for people, especially those without a voice.  We have the privilege and responsibility to engage in the public square.  I sat and debated with myself for two days as if I should post or respond to the happenings in Iraq or just keep to myself.  After all, it is not okay to mix Politics and Religion!  But then again...

"Nothing is so fatal to religion as indifference." ~ Edmund Burke

As I scored through numerous agencies, I have narrowed down my search to the following three.  These Christian-based relief organizations are in Syria (35 miles from where the Yazidis refugees are dying) or other nearby countries offering aid and dropping relief to the thousands of people dying of dehydration.  Some are on the front-lines flying in helicopters filled with food and water into ISIS fire.  Others have set up refugee camps welcoming the weary.  These three organizations also offer prayer and the compassion of a loving God. 

I encourage you to follow one of the links below, see what the organization is doing and send a monetary donation to aid the thousands of people being affected.

CRI: Crisis Response International

Christian Aid

Open Doors

Once you make a donation, follow the link below to see other ways you can be a voice and make a stand against human suffering.  

Crisis in Iraq - five things to do

This is not political.  This is what Christ Jesus would do.

"When we stand for social justice, we testify to the presence of the Kingdom."  ~ John Wimber 

Let's bring about the Kingdom of God and represent Christ in the middle of hell on earth.

What happened to Chivalry?

I was walking into Starbucks recently and had the sad realization that chivalry is dying- if not dead.

As I was walking toward the door, I noticed I was in-pace with an elderly gentleman (a Police Volunteer in uniform to top it!).  I had to make a quick decision to either speed up so I'd beat him to the door and avoid that awkward moment trying to decide who would open it or slow my pace down and let him arrive first.

I voted on slowing my pace- I was not in a hurry.

As he got to the door, I began thinking about how, after he opened the door, I was going to be sure he could still get in line before me.  My processing was stopped short when the door quickly closed in my face as he proceeded in.

I could, perhaps, argue that he didn't see me, which would be impossible since we were practically side-by-side approaching the door from the same direction.

Of course it wasn't personal, but somehow the encounter made me sad.  I, unfortunately, would expect the same kind of situation to happen with younger men, but I was saddened at the action of a man- probably in his 70's.  Stereotyping, I know- but sad nonetheless.

I stood in line and reflected.

I have an 11-year-old son.  I will stand at doors and wait for him to open them.  He helps me unload groceries out of the car.  He will (without me asking) bring me a cup of water when I'm out in the garden.  Yes, lots of shout-out's to Micah, but it is also a lot of teaching and modeling by Bret.

My 16-year-old daughter helps tear-down our church every Sunday in some capacity.  I am constantly on her case because when she is hauling tables or crates around, every so often (not as often as it should) a young man will offer to help her.  She has been trained by society to say, "I am woman. Hear me roar!"  Well, she doesn't say it quite like that.  But a part of her independence as a female feels threatened at an offer of help, so she refuses it.

After many talks, she has learned to put down the table- or whatever else she's carrying- and let the man help.

My husband puts gasoline in my car every week.  

He does that not because I am inept at filling up my car.  He does it to show me that he loves me.

My husband takes out the trash each week.

Not because I can't take out the trash, but to show me that he loves me.

My husband opens my car door for me to step-in.

Not because my nails are wet, or my hands are full, but to show me that he loves me.

Of course this kind of love is beyond the kindness of a stranger opening a door for a woman.  But I, honestly, feel bad the men.  Men can seemingly do nothing right.  If they open a door, they'll get some crazed woman telling him she can do it- which is quite an insult to his offer of being kind.  If they don't open the door, women are offended by their rudeness.  So instead, our men are slowly, one-by-one, opting for the safer method of just walking through the door.  

Now, years later, men have learned to stop opening doors, offering help and being kind- they don't even see the need when it arises.  And to make it worse, women (like me) say, "What happened to chivalry?" 

The answer: Women killed it.

What to do?

Fathers & Mothers: Teach your sons to be gentlemen and teach your daughters to receive their kindness and offer of help.

Men: Better to error on the side of a gentlemen than a jerk- please open the door.

Women: Be kind and say, "Thank You" to men who offer help or open up a simple door.

Golden Cross Necklace

I don’t consider myself a woman of much bling.  I have no interest in fancy purses, designer jeans or beautiful jewelry.  I find I am more a collector of stories.

I’ve been a Christian since I was seven and I have always wanted, but never bought, a golden cross necklace.  No matter how much I have “wanted” a golden cross necklace, I didn't want to purchase one myself.  Just as my salvation is a free gift from God, for some strange reason (I know I'm weird!) I wanted to receive this special gift the same way.  

Nearly ten years ago, I mentioned in a conversation with my Nana that I’d always wanted a golden cross necklace.  I wasn’t intentionally dropping a hint, but she picked up on it anyways.  A few months later, for my birthday, my Nana and Papa gave me a wooden, blue cross on a golden chain.  The note in the box said that this wooden one will have to do until they find the perfect cross for me.

Five years ago, my Nana’s life was cut short and many of her plans were left incomplete.  I never received my golden cross, though now I deeply cherish my wooden, blue cross.

……………………………………….

Getting into my car after work at Weldon yesterday I checked my phone to discover I had a message from my mom.  She and my aunt wanted to get together and talk.  My thoughts went a million directions wondering why and what they were going to tell me.  Is someone sick?  Has cancer struck again?  Is there a problem with someone?

After we were all settled with our coffees, my aunt began.

She took my hands, looked into my eyes and said, “I am very proud of you.  You are impacting lives at your church and impacting lives at school.  Nana too would be very proud of you.”

I had no idea this is where the conversation was going.  Then she continued...

“I know Nana never got a chance to buy you your golden cross.  I’ve been looking and I have a few crosses I thought you might like that I would like to give you.”

My Aunt Connie opened up four boxes, each containing a golden cross, and asked which one I would like.

My “stay in control” personality could contain my emotions no longer as eyes filled with tears and I began to cry. 

My Aunt Connie has been watching the journey I’ve been on, and also knows the special relationship I had with my Nana that is missing.  She brought completion - wholeness - to my life in her simple act of buying a golden cross necklace.   

My new golden cross necklace is not a piece of jewelry I will haphazardly put on in the morning.  While the cross itself symbolizes my expression of faith in my Lord Jesus Christ, it also expresses a validation from my Nana, through my Aunt, of the message of the gospel that I am in chains to deliver.  I don’t throw the message of the cross around arbitrarily.  I wear it with purpose, conviction and passion.

Thank you to my Aunt Connie who not only completed my necklace journey, but now shares in part of my story.