All of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek; there is neither slave nor free; nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.  Now if you belong to Christ, then indeed you are Abraham’s descendants, heirs according to the promise. Galatians 3:27-29 (CEB)

When my boys were toddlers, they asked me what color they were?  I took their pudgy little peachy/pink hands in mine and pondered the question.

“Hmm…” I asked.  “What color do you think this is?”

“Kind of peach,” my oldest said.  

“Well,” I replied.  “Peach it is.”

A few months later, my oldest saw an African-American man in a restaurant.

“Mommy!” he cried.  “That man’s brown!”

“I know,” I said.  “Isn’t it cool?  God makes us all different colors!”

“What color is God?” my son sagely asked.

“Well…” I hesitated.  “I think if we saw God, we would see all of the colors he created.  I think God’s kind of like a rainbow.”

My boys accepted that response.  And, at almost 8 and 10, it’s a response they still accept.  But I worry, as we live in a predominately white community, that their acceptance and appreciation of diversity will wane.  Because, while my husband and I discuss racism with our boys and try to teach the importance of diversity and equality, I can’t change what they hear from schoolmates, the media and society in general.  And the message sent by many in white America is not one of inclusivity.

This is the point in the blog when some (or many) of you will want to tune out.  Sara, you’re thinking.  Stop harping on about racism!  I mean, we have a black President for Pete’s sake!  Move on to something else.

The thing is, I would love to stop talking about racism.  Really, I would.

But yesterday, Fox News had to shut down their online comment section because of all the racist comments that were being made regarding Malia Obama’s college decision.  And when I drove to the grocery store I saw Confederate flags flying in front of houses and plastered on cars and trucks.  And the two men vying for the Republican Presidential nomination openly spread racist sentiments which, for some reason, thousands of Americans embrace.

So, as a white American, I can’t stop talking about racism.  Because racism is a white problem.

Several years ago, when I was in seminary, a group of us white students were sitting around our apartment steps discussing the growing divide between black and white students on campus.  One of our neighbors, an African-American man, came down the steps in the middle of the discussion.

“Cedric!” one student called out.  “We’d like your opinion on this issue.”

Cedric took a deep breath.  “Look,” he said.  “I think it’s great you all are talking about this.  But, honestly, it’s not my problem.  Until white people change their thinking, there’s not a lot I can do.  You all are the ones who need to do something about it.”

Initially, that comment felt a bit like a sucker punch.  But as I thought about it, I saw he was right.  White Americans are the problem.  No, let me change that.  I’m the problem.  The burden of change falls on me, because I (as a white American who has benefitted from white privilege) am the problem.  I am the problem.

This is one reason why I can’t stop talking about racism.  Because if I am part of the problem, then I want to also be part of the solution.  I can’t be part of the solution until I acknowledge I’m part of the problem.  Do you see the cycle, here?

Yet, there’s another reason I can’t stop talking about racism, and it the reason that compels me most of all to speak.  I am a Jesus follower.  And in Jesus’ kingdom, there is no room for exclusivity.  Paul, in his letter to the Galatians, makes this perfectly clear.  Regardless of our race, our cultural heritage, our economic value, our gender or even our political party–we are one in Christ.  All of God’s children share equally in his rich and everlasting inheritance.  God’s mercy and grace are offered freely to me.  God’s mercy and grace are offered freely to you.  God’s mercy and grace are offered freely to those society considers “inferior” or “other”.  God’s mercy and grace are offered freely.

So, I’m going to continue to talk about racism.  Because I’m the problem.  Because I want to be part of the solution.  Because there’s no room for racism in the kingdom.  And, because I want my children to love God’s glorious rainbow of color.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

The whole city was in an uproar, and the people turned into a mob. They grabbed Paul and dragged him out of the temple. Then suddenly the doors were shut. Acts 21:30 (CEV)

Lately, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about what it means to be a Christian.  At the core, a Christian is one who follows Christ.  However, I think I like Bishop Will Willimon’s definition of a Christian as one who recognizes their sinful nature and understands the need to depend on God’s grace.  (That’s a total paraphrase, by the way.  But, I think it works)

Being a Christian isn’t about obtaining membership into an elite club.  It’s not about special privileges, eternal security or self-righteous indulgences.  Being a Christian isn’t about pretending that we are better than others because we have God on our side.

Being a Christian is not about exclusion.  

When Jesus walked through Judea, he didn’t practice exclusion.  He welcomed all who would follow him.  He healed all who came to him.  Interestingly enough, many of the people who flocked to Jesus had been excluded from the church.  The church told those who were “unclean”, “unfaithful” and “non-traditional” that they weren’t good enough for God.  Jesus, on the other hand,  gave them his life.

In the book of Acts, the apostle Paul makes a return trip to his adopted hometown of Jerusalem.  Prior to his conversion Paul (known as Saul) was a member of the “it” club.  He was a rising star among the religious elite.  A passionate speaker and zealous in the pursuit of righteousness, Paul set out to persecute those who followed Jesus.  He was even involved in the murder of the apostle Stephen.  Paul was dedicated to the practice of exclusion–until Jesus stepped into his path.

Paul had a dramatic encounter with the risen Christ.  His eyes were opened, literally, to what faith in Christ is all about.  Paul turned from the religious practice of exclusion to Jesus’ practice of inclusion.  The once proud member of the elite Jewish rabbinical system now lived, worked and preached to the Gentiles.  The Jewish leaders of the time were incensed.  They were also, most likely, afraid.  Paul was one of their own. What did his defection mean for their positions of power and authority within the community?

The religious leaders did what many of us do when our very way of life is threatened.  They fought back.  They ensconced themselves in their self-righteousness.  They doubled down on the idea that their church traditions were more sacred and more holy than the message of Jesus Christ.  They rioted against Paul.  They called him names, beat him and had him arrested.  They followed him to the prison crying, “Get rid of him!” (Acts 21:36)  Sound familiar?

Once again, the religious leaders completely missed Christ.

That’s the thing about exclusion.  When we practice religious exclusion–when we see Christianity as an elite club rather than a community of grace–we completely miss Christ.

Our American churches are struggling.  We’re losing an entire generation of believers.  And yet, what do we do?  We double down on elitism.  We increase our ante on exclusivity. We politicize our faith, forgetting that Jesus didn’t care about politics–he cared about people.  As churches, we need to start caring about people, too.  Not just people who look like us, act like us, speak like us or vote like us.  We need to start caring about all people, remembering that we, too, have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.

We need to embrace, like Timothy, the fact that we are human.  As humans, we will make mistakes.  We will mess things up, sometimes colossally.  But, the beauty of Christianity is that God gives us grace.  God offers forgiveness.  God extends his mercy.  And as followers of Christ, it is our job to offer that grace, forgiveness and mercy to others.

How different might our churches look if we operated from the perspective of the following verse?

This saying is reliable and deserves full acceptance: “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners”—and I’m the biggest sinner of all. 1 Timothy 1:15 (CEB)

Are you a sinner?  Do you need some grace in your life?  Welcome to the club!

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

Let’s not get tired of doing good, because in time we’ll have a harvest if we don’t give up. So then, let’s work for the good of all whenever we have an opportunity, and especially for those in the household of faith. Galatians 6:9-10 (CEB)

I believe in transparency.  I think it’s a good thing when people know who you are and where you’re coming from.  I also believe in doing no harm.  Words penned hastily and without thought can do much harm.  Sometimes, living within the margins of these two beliefs can
get a little sticky.  I have many opinions about many different topics, but publicly airing those opinions is not always beneficial to someone else’s walk with Christ.  To speak or not to speak–that can be a confounding question.

Today, I choose to speak.  I choose to speak because it’s a conversation God and I have been having for quite awhile.  I choose to speak because I feel that to remain silent would do more harm than speaking.  I choose to speak because I love God, and sometimes loving God means that you have to stand at the precipice of a cliff and jump.

So, what am I jumping into?

My friends, my soul is weary of the narrative of hate that is being perpetuated in the name of Christ. 

A few days ago, my husband showed me an image floating around Facebook.  It was an image of a man wearing a turban.  Underneath this image was a caption that described this man as a devout Muslim who had murdered his wife (or something extreme) for not obeying Islamic law.  The great irony (or horror) of this image was that it was a still image of Professor Quirrell from the movie Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.

“This is someone trying to be funny, right?” I asked my husband.  He tracked down the origin of the image, and it wasn’t funny.  It was a continuation of the anti-Muslim rhetoric that has become all too familiar in our society.  Professor Quirrell’s image fit the narrative of bigotry that many white Christian Americans have adopted.

Not long after, I heard a news report about the state of North Carolina’s new law requiring all citizens to use the public restroom that corresponds with the gender on their birth certificate.  Many other states are contemplating similar laws.  This law is a direct indictment against transgender Americans.  It is an attempt to legislate predominately Christian prejudice and further extends the narrative of bigotry in the name of Christ.

I’m not taking a stance on transgnder and homosexuality.  I am, however, taking a stance on bigotry and prejudice done in the name of Christ.

If you read the Gospels, Jesus’ message wasn’t one of exclusion.  In fact, the people who were
excluded from Jesus’ love were the religious leaders.  Jesus spoke out numerous times against these leaders because they had allowed their legalistic interpretation of Scripture and church tradition to blind them to the message of salvation.  Their rules and regulations–their desire to be the elite and powerful–were preventing people from having a relationship with God.

So Jesus went out from the temples and synagogues.  He spoke in boats, on mountaintops and in the homes of those who welcomed him.  He reached out to those who were unclean, immoral and unwelcome in church.  He offered them love.  He offered them compassion.  He offered them his life.

Jesus didn’t ask for a birth certificate before he healed.  He didn’t check the country of origin before dining at someone’s house.  He wasn’t afraid to cross the border into Samaria and to interact with people who looked different or practiced a different faith.

You see, the narrative of Jesus is a narrative of love.  Jesus suffered, was tortured and was brutally executed for the salvation of all.  So why then do we, as Christians, try to put boxes around that love?  Why do we so often refuse to offer the love of Christ to those who most need it?  What are we afraid of?  Do we think there will be less love for us?

The Creator and Redeemer of humankind has a love that is infinite and boundless.  That, my friends, is what the narrative of Christians should be.

Paul advises the Galatians not to tire from doing good.  He tells them that they will have a fruitful harvest if they don’t give up.  Love works.  Jesus showed us that.  So, as Christians, if we want to leave a legacy of Christ to future generations, we need to share a narrative of love today.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

And when they climbed into the boat, the wind died down.  Matthew 14:32

A few days ago, my husband and I saw an interesting sight.  It was a decidedly windy day, the kind Winnie the Pooh would refer to as “blustery”.  Suspended vertically in the air was a small bird.  It’s wings were out on either side of him, but they looked like feathery arms.  He was beating them up and down, relentlessly pushing against the invisible force that had suspended him midair.  Finally, he stopped beating his wings and dropped, straight down.  I craned my neck to see if he would hit the ground, but instead, he soared.   You see, when he dropped into the wind, he made his body horizontal.  Wings out, the currents of air moved under him and allowed him to glide.  By giving way to the wind, the bird could fly.

My husband and I chuckled at this funny little episode.  But then I thought, that bird is probably smarter than most of us humans.  Like the little bird, we tend to fight against the invisible forces of this life.  We beat our wings in futility against the problems that push against us like a fierce wind.  We think that if we just keep fighting we can mend that broken relationship, find that perfect job, gain enough wealth to make us happy or even reverse the doctor’s diagnosis.

We live in a society that tells us when you face insurmountable odds you have to just push through.  Struggling to finish a research paper?  Push through.  Having trouble meeting a project deadline?  Push through.  Can’t seem to lose that last twenty pounds?  Push through.  The ends of the checkbook won’t meet?  Push through.  Push.  Push.  Push.

I tend to be a push through girl.  Just keep going, keep doing, keep fighting until you get what you want.  The great irony of my life is that things never seem to really change or improve until I let go.

About twelve years ago, I was in a really dark place.  I was struggling with anxiety and depression.  After teaching for four years, I was burnt out, frustrated, and looking for a change.  I kept pushing through.  I called principals at schools I wanted to work at, only to be told they just didn’t have a position open.  I pushed on.  Finally, in the middle of a Good Friday service, God said, enough.  Bowing my head, I stopped pushing.  I fell into God’s plan, the one he’d been trying to direct me to for the past six months.

When I finally let go, when I stopped pushing and fell, God was right there.  His plan was infinitely better than mine, although I didn’t know it then.  When I stopped pushing, when I stopped fruitlessly beating against the problems in my life and gave them fully over to God, I was able to soar.

The next couple of years were a sort of sabbath period for me.  I went to seminary.  I met my husband.  I rested.  I grew.  Life wasn’t easy or perfect–it never is.  But there was peace.  There was purpose.  There was God.

My friends, I don’t know what you’re trying to push through today.  But my advice to you would be to stop.  Stop trying so hard to make a situation perfect.  Stop trying so hard to fix a problem.  Stop trying so hard to figure it all out.  Because you can’t.  You won’t.  Like that little bird, you’ll just beat senselessly against the wind.

Instead, let go.  Lay whatever it is that’s keeping you up at night before the throne of God.  Tell him you’re done pushing.  Tell him you’ve had enough.  And then, allow him room to let you soar.

Let go.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

Hello Friends–

I’m a little late in publishing this, as IRL duties have picked up the past few weeks.  I am pleased (and terrified) to announce that the book is here. Confessions of the Pastor’s Wife, a 52 week devotional book, is now available.  Here’s the link to the book on Amazon.   An e-version is coming soon!

Confessions of the Pastor’s Wife is a three-way conversation between the author, the reader, and God. Containing fty-two devotionals, one for each week of the year, Confessions of the Pastor’s Wife can be used as a stand-alone devotional guide or a supplement to your daily Bible routine. Not only are the devotionals short, sweet, and to the point, they come with a weekly prayer and Scripture Bytes that you can take with you to chew on throughout the week.

Ideal if you’re looking for encouragement, a greater purpose in life, or a way to experience the love of God more fully, Confessions of the Pastor’s Wife will help you realize that God is with you, beside you, guiding and comforting you, throughout your walk with Him.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara