As Jesus walked alongside the Galilee Sea, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew, throwing fishing nets into the sea, because they were fishermen.  “Come, follow me,” he said, “and I’ll show you how to fish for people.”  Right away, they left their nets and followed him.  Continuing on, he saw another set of brothers, James the son of Zebedee and his brother John. They were in a boat with Zebedee their father repairing their nets. Jesus called them and immediately they left the boat and their father and followed him.  Matthew 4:18-22 (CEB)

I have to confess, some days (weeks/months) I fantasize about tropical islands.  I can picture us there, my family and I, on a small Caribbean Isle.  We’d live in thatch-roofed house with a wrap-around deck on a lush verdant hillside.  Rough stone steps would snake a path down the hill to a rocky cay.  There, the boys would explore the wonders of nature while I sat atop the hill writing.  My husband would have an outdoor dockside office, owning and operating a boating guide service for tourists.  We would live a quiet life, picking fruit from our trees and drinking cool water sprinkled with coconut milk.

This is the place I go to in those moments when I wonder, “Is ministry really worth it?”  My husband, who is much more evolved than I, always answers that question with a resounding “YES!”  I, on the other hand, ponder images of crystalline water and snorkeling.

The truth is, ministry–be it professional, personal, or volunteer–is hard.  When Jesus spoke to his disciples about ministry, he didn’t use the terms competitive salary and full benefits.  Rather, Jesus talked about the cost of being a disciple.  He told his disciples that they would be disrespected, ridiculed, judged, imprisoned, persecuted, and even put to death for their work.  For Jesus, ministry was never a question of what you got.  Rather, it was a question of what you would give.

You would think that  the disciples might have reconsidered their commitment at this point.  You would think that they, like the young rich ruler who came to Jesus seeking eternal life, would have said, “Thanks, but, no thanks.”  You would think they would have said, “Ministry really isn’t worth it.”

But they didn’t.

When Jesus called his first disciples, they came–immediately.  They literally stopped working, put down their fishing nets, left their families, and followed Jesus.  Immediately.  There was no hesitation.  Regardless of what would come, following Jesus was worth it.  Of course, there were times of doubt.  There were times of fear.  There were times of hurt.  There were times when nothing made sense.  But yet, they continued on.

When the apostle Paul was imprisoned in Rome, he questioned whether or not continuing in ministry was worth it.  In Philippians 1, Paul writes of his conflict.  He is tired.  His body is worn out.  He wants to go home, to live eternally with Christ.  However, Paul affirms that continuing the path of ministry is worth it.  He knows his journey is not yet done.  He tells the Philippians, “I’m supposed to help you continue to grow in your faith.”

Throughout the history of our faith, we see faithful disciples affirming the call to ministry in spite of the overwhelming obstacles they face.  Corrie Ten Boom risked her life to save the lives of others during the Holocaust.  She kept her hope (and faith) alive in the midst of the horrors of a concentration camp–teaching others about Christ’s love while living in the midst of hate.

Bishop Desmond Tutu was propelled by his faith to fight for the rights of black South Africans throughout his ministry.  He took on the apartheid government and fought to end segregation.  Similarly, Martin Luther King, Jr. fought to end segregation in the U.S. during the Civil Rights Movement.  Dr. King was beaten, imprisoned, and ultimately gave his life for the cause.  And yet, he continued on.

When I think about these champions of faith persevering through enormous obstacles, I can’t help but be a little ashamed of my island dreams.  The truth is, if we are truly Jesus People, then ministry is always worth it.  It’s not worth it because of the fruits of our labor, although that can be a byproduct.  It is worth is because it is what we are called to do.  Ministry is, and always has been, an act of obedience.  Ministry is worth it because we are called to obediently follow Christ.  Sometimes we will be disappointed.  Sometimes we will be challenged.  Sometimes we will be attacked.  And sometimes, our feelings will just be plum hurt.

Even so, Jesus says, “Come–follow me.”  And while I might hesitate for a moment, in the end, I know following Jesus is always worth it.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

P.S. I love this quote from Bishop Tutu:

Despite all the ghastliness in the world, human beings are made for goodness.  The ones who are held in high regard are not militarily powerful, nor even economically prosperous.  They have a commitment to try and make the world a better place.

My brothers and sisters, not many of you should become teachers, because we know that we teachers will be judged more strictly.  We all make mistakes often, but those who don’t make mistakes with their words have reached full maturity. Like a bridled horse, they can control themselves entirely.  When we bridle horses and put bits in their mouths to lead them wherever we want, we can control their whole bodies.  James 3:1-3

I have to confess…sometimes, I can be a little critical of others.  Okay, so maybe the “a little” is really more of an “a lot”.  I have an analytical mind.  Years of English study has taught me to take a whole work and break it apart into tiny pieces to examine, analyze, and evaluate its worth.  This is great for unpacking literature–not so much for unpacking human beings.  Yesterday, as I was watching my children play in a botanical garden, I found myself evaluating the people around me.  The woman in a Ralph Lauren maxi dress with strappy sandals and a scarf was a snob.  The woman in faded, ripped jean shorts, a dirt-smudged t-shirt and old scruffy tennis shoes was not very bright.  And the woman with crazy hair in a bright red Cardinals t-shirt that said “Jedi Knight” on the back was just weird.  Oh wait–that was me!  You see what I’m getting at, right?  Being critical is so easy, but it’s always a two-way street.

Recently, God has been pushing me to rethink my propensity to perform critical analysis in all areas of my life.  Instead of criticizing when opportunities present themselves, I hear God saying (very kindly, of course), “Shut up.”  It’s not my job to criticize others.  Don’t get me wrong, there is a time and place for teaching and for accountability.  However, like the book of James says, we need to place a bit in our mouths to carefully control what comes out of them.  Our teaching should never be about diminishing someone else.  Accountability should never be about condemnation.

Over the past few years, I’ve come to realize that my criticisms of others often stem from my own insecurities.  Criticizing is a self-centered action.  It’s about making ourselves seem better than someone else.  It’s looking at someone, judging them, and then saying, “Well, I would never do that.”   I would never talk to my child like that.  I would never coach a game like that.  I would never teach that way.  When we criticize others, we’re often trying to compensate for our own feelings of inadequacy or lack of self-esteem.  We’re not happy with ourselves, so we take it out on others.

Criticizing is a completely unproductive habit.  It’s not about making a situation better, rather, it’s about building our own egos.  And, if I’m building my own ego, I’m not focusing on the work God has placed before me to do.  I can’t be the person God created me to be if I’m constantly focused on finding fault in others.

As I was pondering a way to tame the critical beast within me, the following thoughts came to mind.  I’ve decided to challenge myself (and you) to answer the following questions before engaging in any sort of criticism.

1. Is my criticism really about something someone else is doing, or is it about my own insecurities as a wife, mother, teacher, writer, leader, etc…?
2. Will the behavior or situation I’m criticizing change for the better by vocalizing my complaint?
3. If my criticism is valid, am I willing to directly confront the situation and seek a positive outcome in a way that supports and uplifts others?

If we’re willing to engage in a little introspection, I think we could more easily tame our critical tongues.  And, if we work to control our critical thoughts and words, the effect will go far beyond ourselves.  We will live with more joy, and we will be able to share that joy with others.

The apostle John told his followers that they would be known by their love.  Perhaps, showing love begins with taming the tongue.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

 Take off the old human nature with its practices and put on the new nature, which is renewed in knowledge by conforming to the image of the one who created it.  In this image there is neither Greek nor Jew, circumcised nor uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave nor free, but Christ is all things and in all people.  Colossians 3:9-11

Often, in blogging, I avoid speaking directly to cultural and political circumstances that can be considered “hot topic” or “controversial”.  Yet in reading a recent blog post by author Rachel Held Evans, I’m reminded that Christian writers have a responsibility to speak in times of cultural trial.  Too often, the voice of “Christians” that echoes the loudest across media outlets is one of hate, judgment, bigotry and oppression.  Is it any wonder that more and more Americans are leaving behind the label of “Christian”?

And what is a Christian, anyway?  At its core, a Christian is someone who is a self-professed sinner.  A Christian is someone who knows they are in need of redemption.  For Christians, that redemption comes through God in the form of Jesus Christ.  Once salvation has been accepted, once grace has been received, a Christian seeks to live a life following the example of Jesus Christ.

Following the example of Jesus Christ means practicing humility, not arrogance.  Following the example of Jesus Christ means reaching out in love to others, not standing in judgment and hate.  Following the example of Jesus Christ means standing up for justice, not participating and accepting systems of injustice and oppression.

For white Christians (like myself) following the example of Jesus Christ means acknowledging our blatantly racist past and accepting that we have built systems of inequality and prejudice that exist today.  Following the example of Jesus Christ means that we (white Christians) must stop protecting institutions that promote racial injustice.  We need to acknowledge the fact that our law enforcement systems are racially biased.  We need to stand in solidarity with our African-American brothers and sisters in demanding that those systems change.  We need to accept that the lens by which we view the world is skewed by prejudices handed down over generations.  We need to remember that in Christ, we are all one body.

As I watch demonstrations for racial justice erupt across the nation, I am hopeful that maybe change will finally come.  It will take time.  It will be painful.  It will require humility, compassion, and a careful re-evaluation of our own beliefs, values, and motivations.  However, I think it’s good.

For my part, I will continue to speak out on behalf of those fighting for justice.  I will continue to work to evaluate my own motivations and perceptions when it comes to issues of racial justice.  I will admit that I am a Christian–a sinner in need of redemption and grace.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now ,you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls.  1 Peter 1:9

I remember a conversation with my oldest son when he was about three.  He was asking me about God and Jesus, trying to wrap his brain around these great big concepts most adults don’t understand.

“Where is God?” he asked.

“Everywhere,” I replied.

“I don’t see him,” he said.  “I see you.  I see the church.  But, I don’t see God.”

When I sit and consider my faith, it makes absolutely no sense.  The entire Christian religion is based on a story that sounds like it came straight from a sci-fi/fantasy novel.  A man claims to be the Son of God, is executed, and rises from the dead to save the world.  And yet, here we are, over 2,000 years later, still telling the story.

Why?  How is that possible?  Historians might point to the political and economic power and might of the Holy Roman Empire to explain the longevity of the Christian faith.  Both Protestant and Catholic churches have played important roles in world events, politics, and social reform movements over the past 2,000 plus years.

However, I don’t think the institution of the Church explains the lasting power of Christianity.  Faith in Christ is more intangible than that.  Faith in Christ comes from knowing, deep down in your soul, that this story, implausible though it seems,  is true.

There have been times in my life when reason has told me to cast off this faith.  It doesn’t make sense.  It can’t possibly be true.  There’s no evidence whatsoever to support it.

But I can’t.  And the reason I can’t cast off my belief is because I know the story is real.  I have seen God manifest in my life.  I feel his presence with me.  It’s not an emotion, but a true and living Spirit that is there, hovering over, around, and within me all at the same time.

I remember trying to explain this several years ago to some agnostic friends.  I was specifically sharing the experience of feeling God’s Spirit and presence in Sunday worship.  They had never experienced this before, as they felt church was pretty stale and meaningless in their country.  It seemed that they were almost wistful in their response, like they wanted that connection and presence in their lives .

The truth is, we can’t ever “prove” that our faith is valid.  It’s not a scientific hypothesis.  We either believe, or we don’t.  But my experiences with the risen Lord compel me to believe.  I have seen God work in my life.  I have heard him call my name.  I have been guided by his wisdom.  I have been comforted by his presence.  I have experienced his joy.

Jesus told the disciples that they believed because of what they had seen, but blessed are those who believe without seeing.  Seeing is not believing.  What is it that you believe?

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

Blessing, honor, glory and power belong to the one seated on the throne and to the Lamb forever and always.  Revelation 5: 13b

This morning, I’ve been thinking a lot about the nature of our American church.  Reading through the first five books of Revelation, it seems to me that we are broken.  Instead of being ambassadors of God’s love and grace, American Christians are too often emissaries of judgment and condemnation.  Being a Christian becomes more about being right (or self-righteous) than about being a servant of Christ.

Part of the problem, I think, is that as American Christians, we lack humility.  We’ve taken power on ourselves, rather than giving it to the One to whom it rightly belongs.  We call ourselves the standard bearers for morality, proper thinking, correct political beliefs, and accurate ideas for how the universe works.  Again, many American Christians think they’re right, and therefore, anyone else is wrong.

Yet, when I read through Jesus’ condemnation of the churches, I can’t help but our churches fall into the category of the condemned.  Jesus says to the church in Ephesus, “You have forsaken the love you had at first.”  To the Sardinians he says, “…you have a reputation for being alive, but you are dead…I have found your deeds unfinished in the sight of God.”  To the church in Laodicea he says, “…you are neither cold nor hot.  I wish you were either one or the other!”  To the churches in Pergamum and Thyatira he condemns them for engaging in idolatrous practices and following leaders who have gone astray.

I think many of our churches have forsaken the love we had at first.  We follow leaders who are more interested in promoting themselves than God, or follow cultural leaders and celebrities rather than following Jesus.  Many who profess to Christianity only practice that faith on Sunday mornings, leaving many works unfinished.  Our congregations are lukewarm, and that lukewarm nature breeds irrelevancy.

I think, as Christians, we need to go back to the first.  We need to lay aside our political beliefs, our self-righteous practices, and our ambitions for leadership and power.  We need to become, once again, Jesus followers.  And Jesus’ example was always one of humility and service.  Jesus went to the outcasts, the ones the Pharisees held in judgment and condemnation.  Jesus told the ones exiled by the church that they were loved, above all others.  Jesus didn’t say that if you love me, you’ll vote this way.  Rather, he told Peter, if you love me, feed my sheep.

If we want our mainline churches to grow, we need to practice humility.  We need to put aside our judgment and go serve others in need.  We need to stop placing ourselves on church committees and start placing ourselves in the streets.  We need to stop thinking we’re right and start remembering that we, too, are sinners in need of God’s grace, mercy, and redemption.

All honor and glory and wisdom and power and might belong to God forever and always (Revelation 7:12).  Let’s leave these things in God’s hands, and focus on loving him, and loving others.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

Dear friends, don’t be surprised about the fiery trials that have come among you to test you. These are not strange happenings.  Instead, rejoice as you share Christ’s suffering. You share his suffering now so that you may also have overwhelming joy when his glory is revealed.  If you are mocked because of Christ’s name, you are blessed, for the Spirit of glory—indeed, the Spirit of God—rests on you.

 Now none of you should suffer as a murderer or thief or evildoer or rebel.  But don’t be ashamed if you suffer as one who belongs to Christ. Rather, honor God as you bear Christ’s name.  1 Peter 4:12-16 (CEB)

Holy Week.  This is the week for Jesus Followers.  More so even than Christmas, this is the week for those who believe in Christ Jesus.  This is the week when we follow our Savior through the streets of Jerusalem.  We walk beside him as men, women, and children should “Hosanna!” and hail him King.

This is also the week where we gather together with our brothers and sisters in faith to share a last meal with the Teacher.  We listen to him as he tells us that this bread, the bread we eat, is his body broken for us.  We are full of wonder when he takes the cup and says, “This is my blood, poured out as a drink offering for you.”

This is the week where we sit in the garden with the Son, as he begs for the cup of suffering to be taken from him.  We wait, sleepy and full with our eyelids drooping as he agonizes over his fate, finally submitting to the authority and purpose of the Father.

This is the week where we go into the depths of the Antonia Fortress and watch as the Innocent is beaten, humiliated, mocked, tortured and, in agony, is forced to carry a cross he never deserved but chose to carry.

This is the week where we stand, silent, our hearts heavy, as the Lamb of God cries out from his broken body, “It is finished!”

This is the week when our joy turns to sorrow as we stand before a tomb where a battered, broken body lays.  Forgotten are the “Hosannas” that rang throughout the city only days before.  Instead, there is fear, bitterness, and dark, dark grief.

As Jesus people, we can’t forget or ignore the suffering Christ endured during our most holy of weeks.  Because that suffering was ours.  That agony was born for our sins, not his.

And, we can’t forget that there are people who are still suffering this day in his name.

I’m not talking about those American believers who think that because the Ten Commandments aren’t posted in public school we’re “suffering”.  To be sure, being a Jesus follower in the US is lonely at times.  We are living in the midst of modern-day Babylon.  However, we still have the ability to openly practice our faith.  We can, if we choose, go to church on Sunday mornings, gather in  Bible study through the week, pray with our children before they go to school, and put a study Bible in our kids’ backpacks.

But there are believers out there who face the darkness of violent oppression and injustice.  In the past few weeks alone, several Jesus followers have walked the road of unjust imprisonment, torture, and execution because they have professed to believing in their Redeemer.  They have, quite literally, followed Christ down the dark, painful, lonely path that is Holy Week.

As we gather this week to remember Christ’s suffering, Christ’s sacrifice, Christ’s death on the cross, I think we need to remember our fellow brothers and sisters who are sharing that walk with Christ right now.  We need to pray for them–for their strength, their safety, their peace, and their deliverance.

“Remember me…” Jesus said.  Take some time this Holy Week to read through the stories of Christ’s suffering and death once more.  Pray for those who are suffering today in his name.  And remember, it’s not the end of the story.

And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.  To him be the power for ever and ever.  Amen.  1 Peter 5: 10-11

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

You people aren’t faithful to God! Don’t you know that if you love the world, you are God’s enemies? And if you decide to be a friend of the world, you make yourself an enemy of God.  Do you doubt the Scriptures that say, “God truly cares about the Spirit he has put in us”?  In fact, God treats us with even greater kindness, just as the Scriptures say,

 Surrender to God! Resist the devil, and he will run from you.   Come near to God, and he will come near to you. James 4:4-8 (CEB)

Yesterday, our Sunday school class was watching Part 3 of Priscilla Shirer’s series He Speaks to Me: Preparing to Hear from God.  In this section of the study, Shier stresses the importance of living a life “set apart” in order to position ourselves to hear God speak.  She makes the statement that living a life set apart can be lonely.

Later, in my husband’s sermon, the focus was on Peter’s denial of Jesus in the courtyard of the High Priest’s home.  Peter, who had just said to Jesus, “I will follow you even to death!” now sits by the light of a fire and says, “I never knew that man!!”

So often, we look at the disciples with pity and judgment.  Those silly fools, we think.  How could they not understand?  But really, are we better?  How often do we deny Christ?  How often do we turn away from those teachings we know to be good and true in order to be a part of the world?

The truth is, if we’re honest, that being a Jesus follower really is a lonely life.  And most of us don’t like feeling lonely.  We might not, like Peter, say out loud, “I never knew that man!”  But, do we need to use the words?  Or is it clear that we deny Christ in our actions?

Just so we’re clear that this is not going to be some sort of holier than thou self-righteous soapbox post, let me tell you how I deny Christ:

I deny Christ when I focus so much on winning an Xbox in a charity raffle that I forget to enjoy time with friends and family

I deny Christ every time I get irritated with my husband for something stupid and indulge in bitter thoughts

I deny Christ when, in the evenings, the kids only have time for one book and I choose Captain Underpants over a Bible story

I deny Christ each time I sit down to a meal and forget (or choose not) to give him thanks and remember him

I deny Christ when I place my kids above everything else, teaching them that they are the most important people in the world, rather than training them to be humble and mindful of the needs of others

I deny Christ every time I gossip with my friends, tearing others down and sitting in judgment rather than building up and encouraging

I deny Christ every time I sit and cringe inwardly when someone makes a sexist, racist, or homophobic remark but say nothing about it.

I deny Christ when I tune out the rest of the world and focus on my own little me bubble, forgetting that I am called to his hands and feet

I deny Christ every Sunday during the Pastoral prayer when, instead of talking to God, I make lists of things I want to get done

Do you see how easy it is to deny Christ?  And so often, our motives for denying Christ are because we don’t want to stand out.  We don’t want to be set apart from the world–we want to be in the world.  We don’t want to say to our girlfriends, “You know, I don’t really want to see that movie.”  Or, tell the sports coach, “We’re not going to participate this year  because games are held on Sunday mornings.”  We don’t want to say, “I’m not going to buy anything today because there’s nothing I really need.”  Or, “I can’t go to dinner Monday night because I have Bible study.”

The thing is, in choosing this world over Christ, we’re denying ourselves access to God’s presence, his love, his peace, and his wisdom.

Peter realized, immediately, his denial of Christ.  Scripture tells us that after his third  Peter remembered Jesus’ words and  went out of the courtyard and wept bitterly.  Fortunately for Peter, and for us, God’s mercy is unending.  Jesus appeared to Peter after his resurrection.  In the Gospel of John, Jesus asks Peter three times, “Do you love me?”  “YES!” came Peter’s vehement reply.  “Then,” said Jesus, “Feed my sheep.”  In this moment Peter, the denier of Christ, becomes the leader of the church.  He brings Christ’s followers together, and they live in fellowship and unity.

Even though choosing Christ can seem lonely at times, the truth is that we are never alone.  Not only do we have God’s Spirit, we have a community of fellow believers around the world.  Just as Jesus sent the disciples out in pairs, so he has given us companions for the journey, too.  Who are those people in your life working to follow Christ?  Who can you go to when you are feeling alone in this journey?  Talk to them about how you’re feeling.  Read the stories in Scripture about others who have faced the loneliness of their faith.  And talk to God.  Ask him for his presence, his peace, his love, and his wisdom.

As we get ready to make our entrance once more into Holy Week, think about ways you can work to be set apart from this world, and focused on Christ.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara