Tag: jesus

New Year, One Word 2025: Openness

Last night, as we were closing out 2024 with good friends around the table, sharing stories, food, and laughter, my husband posed this question: What are you most looking forward to in 2025?

These kinds of questions always stump me. They require some form of planning, which I’ve never been particularly good at. 2025 will definitely be a year of change in the Snyder household, as our eldest graduates high school this spring and begins to make his way into the world. And though I am excited to see what his future holds, I can’t say it’s what I’m most looking forward to this year. And so, I’m back to the original question, and my honest answer is simply this–I’m looking forward to seeing 2025 unfold and am open to all of the possibilities that it brings.

While it might seem blasé, or even a little trite, it’s the space in which I find myself on this New Year’s Day, and it truly fills me with excitement. I love looking into the future with no predetermined expectation or intention, because that, in my experience, is where God works best. God rarely looks at our calendars and picks a blank date in which to schedule a visit. Instead, he tends to throw our carefully planned itinerary out the window and invites us to step into the chaos of creation with him. There is so much possibility in that, if we are open to it…which leads me to my focus word for 2025: Openness.

I want to be open to all that God seeks to do in our lives this year. I want to be like the lake trout that I read about in Gayle Boss’s book of Advent reflections titled All Creation Waits. As Boss writes, the lake trout deposits her eggs among the rocky shoals of Lake Michigan and swims on, having done all that she can do while the eggs wait, “vital but dormant” until winter ends. Like the trout, I want to plant seeds this year that, while they might lie dormant for a time, will burst forth with life when God says it should be so. I want to be open to the fact that, while things might not go exactly as planned or hoped for this year, God is still doing a new thing, and, as the psalmist writes:

It always brings me immense comfort to reflect on the promises of God which have been fulfilled. Throughout Scripture, and in my own life, I see the goodness of his love manifested in the fulfillment of his promises. When God says he’ll do something, he does it. Though, admittedly, he and I often have a profoundly different sense of timing. Where I often respond in haste, God takes his time. He sees the bigger picture and, like any great artist, is willing to let his masterpiece unfold slowly, one brushstroke or typed phrase at a time.

For me, being open to what God is doing means waiting and watching. It means listening more and thinking before responding in situations. It means not rolling my eyes when new initiatives come around at work, and not bristling with indignation when someone suggests a change to how we always do things at home, or work, or church. Openness, for me, means being willing to put forth ideas, and then to let those ideas go if someone has a better one. It means connecting with others, even if I’d rather stay home and read a book, and engaging in tasks that I don’t like but that make a difference to someone else. Above all, openness means actively seeking those places where God is working and being willing to work with him, even if the work wasn’t something that I had planned or initiated or even find interesting.

I have no idea what 2025 will bring….there will be laughter, and likely some tears; there will be new beginnings, as well as bittersweet endings; people will come into our lives, and others will depart; we will have adventures, both planned and unexpected, and we will be faced with challenges both big and small. But if we are open to God’s working in our lives, if we are willing to put in the work to plant the seeds rather than just partaking of the harvest, what wonders might we behold?

It’s a new year, and God is doing a new thing. Though the news might be bleak, though the hearts of some might be sad and the spirits of others might be shaken, though some might be looking to the new year with hope and a sense of promise, and others with trepidation, one thing is certain:

God’s not done yet.

2025 is open….are you open to what God will do within it?

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

A Time for Wonder

Today, we find ourselves entering the home stretch of the Advent season. Christmas is in two days and, per usual, I am in manic mode. There are gifts to finish purchasing, stockings to stuff, menus to plan, and goodies to bake. In all of my self-inflicted hustle and bustle, I sometimes forget to pause and reflect on why we celebrate Christmas in the first place. Holidays can easily devolve from celebrations to chores if we’re not careful, and there are times I have teetered on that ledge–or nose-dived right off it!

So now, I’m reflecting on the writings of the minor prophets: specifically, the books of Haggai, Zechariah, and Malachi. These three prophets lived and worked in the post-exilic period, after the Israelites had returned from Babylon. There was a lot of work to do–the land was in ruins. So this group devoted themselves to putting the pieces of their nation back together. It was busy work and, as happens in the midst of busyness, the people were neglecting God again. The prophets were there to remind them that, although the work of rebuilding the nation of Israel was important, most important was their continued faithfulness to God and his law. Kind of like our to-do lists, right?

And yet, I have found, that when we set aside our “must…keep…pushing…through” items and focus our souls on God, he shows up in such unexpected and remarkable ways that we can’t help but, as the hymn proclaims, stand in awesome wonder. Last year, about this time, a moment of awesome wonder came in my kitchen as I was sitting on the little wooden step stool my husband’s grandfather made long ago and which has become my Bible time stool. I was reading through the book of Malachi. Like his contemporaries Haggai and Zechariah, Malachi was urging the people to remain faithful to God, and chastising them for prioritizing other tasks and only giving God the left-overs of their daily lives. But Malachi was also speaking beyond the present, prophesying a time to come when God would judge between the faithful and the faithless, setting aside a people to call his own. Chapter four of Malachi ends this proclamation:

#saramsnyder.com

I quickly turned the page to see what would happen next, and was flummoxed to discover that there were no more words. What?! I thought to myself. That’s it? Truth be told, there’s one more verse–it says God will come and strike the land with total destruction. (Malachi 4:6) Quite the exclamation point! But I want to focus on the proclamation–the promise of Elijah before the day of the Lord’s arrival.

As I flipped ahead through the next several pages of historical commentary in my Bible, somewhat disgruntled by the lack of resolution on the author’s part, it dawned on me…Malachi ends abruptly because the story’s not done. Flipping quickly to the book of Matthew I sat, stunned, as I looked at the words before me. For the first time ever, I was awed, not by God’s word, but by a genealogical list of names.

Normally, when it comes to biblical genealogy, I just skim through it. But what stunned me, what awed me, weren’t the names themselves, but the fact that God had been continuing the story for generations, even after the prophets in Scripture had gone silent. Malachi spoke of the coming of Elijah in 430 B.C., and in the first-written synoptic gospel around 60 A.D., we have John the Baptist, an Elijah-like figure, living in the Judea wilderness and preaching a gospel of repentance in preparation for the coming of the Lord.

The final word in the Old Testament is a promise of the Lord’s coming. Then there’s silence. Time moves on. One generation gives way to the next. Nations rise and fall. Yet the minutiae of life keeps moving, like a time-lapse video, different figures blurring together as they move in an out of the same scene. Years pass…hundreds of them in which people are born, in which they live and laugh and love and cry, in which they die and are laid to rest with all of those who have gone before. And the Earth keeps turning.

It’s quiet. It’s ordinary. Until one day, in an ordinary time in an ordinary place, an angel delivers a message to a young man and a young woman that will change everything. While many people had long ago stopped expecting God’s promises to be fulfilled, God hadn’t forgotten. From Malachi to Matthew (and Mark and Luke) God had a plan, and what we celebrate at Christmas is the fulfillment of that plan.

#saramsnyder.com

This, then, is what fills me with awe. That God came in a moment when it was least expected–in a time when many had likely written off his promise of a messiah as a myth or legend–a story of hope to be shared, but not really to be anticipated. God continued the story…for thousands of years! And it’s a story he’s continuing to write–his words etched into the hearts of all those who love him–his promises yet to be fulfilled.

As the shepherds did on a night long ago, I stand (or sit) in awesome wonder of God’s work. I’m overwhelmed by the depth and breadth of his faithfulness. For me, this Christmas is about hope. The hope that God is faithful, that all of his promises will come to fruition in his time and in his way. God never gives up. He came when everyone least expected it, and in a way that no one could have foretold.

My prayer for you as we enter the Christmas season is that you, too, will have an experience of God that leaves you standing in awesome wonder. Are you looking? Are you waiting? Fear not! God will come.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

Searching for the Light in Advent

unpacking

As Advent is fully upon us once more, I thought this repost from 2016 an appropriate expression of the hope we yearn for this season. As Jesus told his disciples so long ago…the light has come, and darkness cannot put it out.

Wishing you warmth and light this season…

“Do you know where the gloves got put?”

“Which box is our comforter in?”

“Do I have any pants?”

These are the questions I field at least once a week since we moved in June.  With each request, I go searching through the house–looking into random closets, digging into partially opened tubs and boxes and rummaging around shelves I can’t see the tops of.  Eventually I find that pants are on top of a dresser, the comforter is in a vacuum sealed bag and gloves, well, it’s not that cold yet.

The searching in our house these past few months has been reflected in my spirit, too.  I seem stuck in a cycle of perpetual searching.  I’m searching to find my place in a new community, searching to define myself as an author, searching to establish myself in a new career, and even searching to figure out who I am now that I’m 40.

I have to be honest, searching for gloves, comforters and pants is a lot easier.

I feel like, after a season of mountaintop living, I have been thrust back into the wilderness.  I’m trying to find the light of God’s leading, but there are no bushes ablaze around me.  There’s no pillar of fire going before me into the darkness pointing east or west.  There’s just me kicking up sand and wondering if I’ve passed this rock before.

wilderness

Lent has traditionally been the time for wilderness wanderings; however, Advent finds us in the wilderness, too.   Jesus didn’t enter into a world festooned with mistletoe and holly.  He entered humanity in a time of violence, fear, uncertainty and injustice.  He came when people were seeking a light to dispel the darkness of poverty, injustice and oppression.  He came when people were seeking hope.

The world hasn’t changed much since Jesus first came.  We might string mistletoe and holly more freely around our homes, but there is still violence, still fear, still uncertainty, still injustice.  Like the people of Jesus’ time, we are still seeking a light to dispel the darkness of the world around us.

Advent provides us with the opportunity to wait, in hopeful expectation, for the Light of the World to come.  And come he will, because he’s always been there.

lantern

In the beginning was the Word
and the Word was with God
and the Word was God.
The Word was with God in the beginning.
Everything came into being through the Word,
and without the Word
nothing came into being.
What came into being
through the Word was life,[a]
and the life was the light for all people.
The light shines in the darkness,
and the darkness doesn’t extinguish the light. John 1:1-5 (CEB)

Whatever you find yourself searching for this Advent, embrace the uncertainty of finding it.  Give yourself over to God’s work in your life.  Wait in hopeful expectation for the Light that was, is and will come.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

On Faith and Politics

Today, we are one week out from the 2024 presidential election. Many people I’ve spoken with are feeling an inordinate amount of anxiety about this presidential race, and who can blame them, with both parties catastrophizing the outcome. I’m mostly sad and disappointed, and I’m tired of the fact that we seem to be acting like a nation of toddlers. But as I look back at our past, it seems we were always this way.

As an amateur historian, I find that history grounds me, especially in our current age of aggrandizing every event into the most whatever thing that’s ever happened. American politics has always been a hot mess, and elections haven’t always been peaceable or straightforward. In the election of 1800, for instance, a deadlocked House of Representatives couldn’t reach an agreement on who should become president. Mobs formed in the streets and the governors of Virginia and Pennsylvania began readying their militias for action before the politicians were able to get it together and elect Thomas Jefferson. In 1828, four Democratic-Republicans ran against each other for the top job, splitting electoral votes and forcing the election (again) to the House of Representatives, who made a so-called “corrupt bargain” and installed JQ Adams rather than Andrew Jackson as president, even though Jackson had won the popular vote. Then, of course, there was the election of 1860, which resulted in an entire swath of the nation seceding from the Union and a nearly 5-year-long bloodbath that we call the Civil War.

I’ve said many times in this space that, in my opinion, the biggest threat to our contemporary church in the United States is the politicalization of our faith. We have made an idol of politics, worshiping the doctrine of political parties and seeking salvation in elected leaders. But the thing is, Jesus wasn’t interested in politics….at least, not politics in the traditional sense of the word. In both word and deed, Jesus sought to bring the good news of God’s salvation to all people, tearing down systems of oppression in the process.

Jesus didn’t mess with political campaigns. He didn’t seek out political leaders, nor did he attempt to make himself a space in the political sphere. It’s not that Jesus wasn’t aware of what was happening politically, or that he didn’t care. He just understood that there was something bigger.

In Matthew 11, John the Baptist sends some of his disciples to speak with Jesus. John had spent his entire adult life preparing the way for the Messiah. He had preached a gospel of repentance, leading people into the wilderness to pray and learn and fast and be baptized. He had witnessed that divine moment when Jesus rose from the Jordan River and God had claimed him as his one and only son. But time has passed. Things were not great on the ground in Judea. The Romans were still oppressive, there was still massive inequality, the religious leaders were still hypocrites, and John himself was languishing in prison. Beaten, broken, sensing the end of his time drawing near, John implores Jesus to bring him peace of mind. Are you really the promised Messiah? John asks. Or should we keep looking?

It’s a simple yes or no question, right? But Jesus doesn’t really do yes or no. Instead of affirming John’s query and easing his troubled mind, Jesus tells John’s disciples to….

I love this response, because it’s such a teacherly thing to do. John wants Jesus to tell him what he wants to hear. But Jesus cares too much about John to do that. Instead, Jesus says, watch me.

Watch me. Look at what I’m doing. See the difference it is making. Where there was sickness, there is healing. Where there was death, there is life. Where there was despair, there is hope. Watch me. Then determine for yourself if I am who you think I am.

There are a lot of politicians who claim the name of Jesus in their rhetoric, but I would argue that if their message isn’t bringing healing, life, and hope, then they are not really following in Jesus’ footsteps. And the same is true for us. If our words, whether in person or online, and if our actions are not bringing healing, life, and hope to others, then we have veered wildly from the path which Jesus calls us to follow. We cannot espouse vitriol in one breath and love of Christ in another. That’s not the way it works. If we’re watching Jesus, then our lives should look a little different.

In the book of John, Jesus puts it this way:

Jesus tells his disciples that they should be characterized by love…but not the Hallmark movie kind of love…. but the Jesus kind of love. Jesus gave himself to us courageously, determinedly, trustingly, full-bodily, continuously, selflessly, single-mindedly so that others could experience healing, life, and hope. And if we are to be his disciples, then we must watch, learn, and do likewise.

So next Tuesday, we should vote. But we should also do some kingdom work. Volunteer for an hour or so at a food pantry. Visit someone in the hospital. Check in with a neighbor. Hand out blessing bags to those in need. Send a note of encouragement to someone who is struggling. Post your favorite Scripture verse to your favorite social media site. Pay for someone’s groceries. Let’s let others know that there’s something greater than politics at work in our lives, and that the same grace and love we share can be theirs, as well.

In her book, Savor: Living Abundantly Where You Are, As You Are, author Shauna Niequist writes of the role that the church (and its people) should play in our world. She says, “The church is at its best…when it is more than a set of ideas and ideals, when it is a working, living, breathing, on-the-ground, in-the-mess force for good in our cities and towns.”

In this season of political uncertainty, let’s be the body of Christ for a nation and world in need. Watch Jesus. Then follow his lead.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

Thomas Nelson Bible Roundup: Kids, Max Lucado, and Pretty in Purple

As most of you know, I LOVE Bibles! I love the heavy weight of a Bible in my hands as I sit and study Scripture. I love the crinkly sound of tissue-thin pages being turned, and the sharp smell of paper mingling with ink that wafts up as one page gives way to another. Reading the Bible is an act of communion for me–it is, at the same time, both tactile and ethereal–a mingling of body, soul, and mind as I read, reflect, write, and converse with God. So, I’m always excited when Thomas Nelson sends out the next round of Bibles to be reviewed. Not only do I get to sample different versions of our faith’s guiding text, but I get to share them with others!

Here is the latest Thomas Nelson Bible Roundup.

Pros: This Bible has several features that can help kids relate to the text, including profiles of people in Scripture, definitions of words like genealogy, and action articles that help kids practice their faith in the real world.

Cons: Like many kids’ Bibles, it doesn’t fully address the fact that Bible literacy is tough for kids. While the explanatory articles are great, asking kids to read more when they’re already struggling to comprehend could be a deal-breaker for many of them. It’s very text-heavy, with few pictures or illustrations, which is also tough for kids, and some of the “Live It” commentaries are pithy.

Overall: This is an okay study Bible option for upper elementary and middle grade readers. I would be inclined to use it in a small group or Sunday school setting. However, I feel like it trivializes some big questions of faith that kids are perfectly capable of thinking and talking about.

Pros: If you’re a fan of Max Lucado’s work, then you will love this Bible. It breaks the text into daily readings so you can get through the Bible in a year, and it includes short reflections on Scripture passages by Lucado himself.

Cons: Because you’re going through the Bible in one year, the reading is not light. You’ll need a dedicated chunk of time each day to get it done. Also, the writings from Lucado are pulled from his published work–so, no new content.

Overall: A great choice for Lucado fans, or those interested in tackling the Bible from cover to cover in on year.

Pros: This Bible is all about the beauty. From the gold filigree and stamped leather markings on the cover, to the gorgeous text type within, there’s a reason this is the publisher’s “Sovereign Collection.” I love that, textually, this Bible is no-frills. There are no reflections, commentaries, spotlights, etc., which makes the Bible light and portable. I can easily see myself popping this Bible into a bag and hitting the road. Plus, because there aren’t a lot of extra features inside, there’s plenty of room in the margins for note-taking.

Cons: There aren’t extra features included in this Bible, so if you want reflections or commentary, you’re going to need to look elsewhere. And, it’s pricier than the other Bibles in this review.

Overall: I love this one. It’s both light and sturdy, which makes it a great Bible to carry around. And it’s beautiful.

No matter the Bible you choose, spending time in God’s Word is paramount to faith development. It’s a way to connect with our Creator, and to better understand who he is, and who we are in relation to him.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

The Nature of Witness

So, for those of you who don’t know me well, I have a confession to make: I LOVE a good disaster or dystopian story. If meteors are barreling toward Earth, there’s been a nuclear meltdown, or society has been disrupted by an alien invasion–I’m totally in! For me, these stories are kind of like riding a roller coaster. They bring you to the brink of terror, then ease you safely back into the familiar. Beyond that, I find these stories to be an interesting study of humanity. As you watch or read, you’re confronted with real questions about who we are and why we behave the way we do.

That said, when a new dystopian-esque movie released last week, my boys and I didn’t hesitate before hopping in the car and driving the 30 miles or so to see it. The premise of the story is pretty simple–America devolves into another civil war and chaos and violence ensue. The story follows a group of journalists covering the horror show that is war, and explores the role journalists play in society. But for me, the overarching question that has continued to bump around my brain after seeing this film is: What does it mean to bear witness?

For journalists, bearing witness means to document and share what is happening in any given situation–both awful and awesome. Good journalists don’t make themselves a part of the story. They don’t enter into the fray. Rather, they record what they see so that they can share it with the public, allowing people to form their own conclusions and make informed decisions based on that information. I think the same is true for our Christian witness. We share the truth of who God is and what he has done in our lives, and allow others to, like Joshua, choose for themselves this day whom they will serve.

But what does that look like?

In the liturgical year, we are approaching Pentecost–the day when we remember the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on the disciples, allowing them to spread the news of Jesus’s death and resurrection to thousands of people at one time. This was the fulfillment of Jesus’s prophecy to them in Acts 1:8.

With wind and fire the Holy Spirit breaks down all barriers to faith–enabling the apostles to share what they saw and experienced while living and walking with Jesus. Moreover, they share this witness in every language represented by the people listening. In this way, more witnesses are made. Those who saw the power of God that day had to have returned home talking about this extraordinary event. But it didn’t stop there. This was no feel-good news segment that airs once and then is forgotten. No, this was a movement–a surge of the spirit that would not be contained.

The disciples continued to be witnesses to Jesus, meeting daily at the Temple, preaching and teaching, healing and restoring, feeding and supporting. They lived out their faith in a way that helped others come to know the extravagant love of God.

And then some of them hit the road–compelled to chance their safety and security in places foreign and sometimes hostile to share the story of what Jesus had done in their lives. They went to synagogues and public meeting places, entered the homes of both the poor and the powerful, worked alongside people making goods to sell, sat on the riverbanks where people were doing laundry. In short, they entered into people’s daily lives, building relationships and meeting the needs of others to demonstrate the nature of God.

Some were imprisoned. Others were beaten. Stephen was stoned. John was exiled. It wasn’t easy, but they were compelled. They had a story to tell. And they chose to tell it wherever they went to whoever might listen. As Christian witnesses, that is our call, too. God has given each of us a story to tell, and we are to tell it wherever we go and to whoever might listen. That might be the grocery store checkout line, a hospital waiting room, or even a fast-food restaurant. God has given me opportunities to be a witness in each of these places.

I feel like I would be remiss if I didn’t express my opinion that being a witness doesn’t mean badgering people, or making them feel ashamed and inferior. For me, being a witness is like being a journalist. It’s about observing what’s going on around you–looking for inroads to spread the message of God. Like the disciples, we need to go into our communities and work alongside people. We need to build relationships and offer support to those in need. We need to recognize what God has done in our lives so that we can bear witness to that with others.

I think the psalmist sums it up pretty eloquently in Psalm 66:

As witnesses, we attest to what we have seen and experienced God doing. In this way, we join the great multitude of saints who have gone before us, proclaiming the love and grace of Jesus Christ.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

Just Breathe: A Review of the Breathe Life Bible

Recently, I had the opportunity to review a couple of Bibles through the Thomas Nelson bible review program. One Bible that I chose to peruse is the Breathe Life Bible. Though I didn’t realize it at the time, this Bible is the perfect resource for anyone who is interested in exploring the crossroads where faith and justice meet. Though compiled with those in mind who daily feel the suffocating effects of racial injustice, it is most certainly not limited to one group. As former Ambassador to the United Nations Andrew Young writes in the forward, the Breathe Life Bible is about putting faith into action, taking an active stand against injustice and oppression. Young writes that this Bible “is about making real the Beloved Community where everyone is valued and cared for.”

When my youngest was about six, he and his brother were walking home from school one afternoon with a few other students who also lived nearby. One of the students had pulled out a Little Debbie snack to eat along the way, but before she could dig in, an older boy snatched it from her hand. My little firebrand would not stand for that. He promptly took the snack back and returned it to the girl, telling the older student, “That’s not right!”

This story always makes me chuckle–if you knew my youngest, you’d understand. He’s always had a fire in his belly to stand up to something, and as he’s gotten older, that hasn’t changed. My son feels strongly about justice…more aptly, he feels compelled to take a stand against what he perceives to be injustice. And there’s a lot of it. Walk down any street in your community and I’ll bet you’ll see it. Poverty; lack of access to resources like healthcare, mental healthcare, addiction treatment, quality education, fresh food; systemic violence….the list goes on and on.

Over the years, I have come to believe that our faith is intricately wound with justice. More specifically, I believe that God calls his people to acts of justice.

#saramsnyder.com

I love that the Breathe Life Bible says that the Lord requires his people to DO justly. This call to action encompasses Jesus’ command to love our neighbors as ourselves, and his exhortation to remember that whatever we do for the least of these, we do for him. But God’s message of justice often gets diluted in feel-good messages that only touch the surface of what it means to live a life of faith. As Christians, we have a tendency to become consumers of God, rather than people who act on his word. Author and leader Brian Heasley wrote in a reflection that, “Christianity is not a self-help group.” Though we sympathize with the plight of those suffering injustice, and maybe even empathize at times, how often do we act on their behalf? How often do we stand up and say, “That’s not right!”

The Breathe Life Bible is unique in that it also offers practical insight into how we can cultivate a life of social justice. There are essays by social justice leaders about what it means to put our faith in practice, commentary by Biblical theologians about what it means to act justly, special first-person accounts of Biblical characters that help the reader engage deeply and personally with God’s word, devotions written by pastors and teachers who share how God’s word impacts our lives, and opportunities to simply inhale and exhale God’s spirit.

Here’s a peek at some of those features:

God calls us to DO justice. And the Breathe Life Bible is a good companion for the journey. Regardless of which Bible you use, however, the fact remains that God doesn’t want us sitting on the sidelines of justice. Rather, he calls us to take action–to stand up and, in his name, work to make the world a better place.

God of Justice, open my eyes, stir my heart, and teach me how to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with you today. Amen

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

On Lent and Justice and Slogging Through Both

This past week marked the season of Lent–a time when many of us Christians give up or pick up habits in an effort to grow closer to becoming that person we believe (fingers crossed) God has called us to be. A few weeks ago, I read a devotion based on Isaiah 1:11-21 that lit a fire within me. If you haven’t read it, take a few moments to do so…I’ll wait.

In Isaiah 1, God has had it with the people of Israel. They’ve made worship a spectacle–kind of like the Super Bowl, but without T-Swift. They show up with their game-day gear, jump around, scream and cheer, get fired up and riled up, then go home feeling really good about themselves, secure in the knowledge that they’re part of team God and they will always bring home the bling. However…God’s not buying it. Look at what he says to the Israelites:

#saramsnyder.com

Yikes! I’m not going to lie, that kind of stings. That’s because I have a feeling, deep down, that Isaiah’s words are as true today as they were thousands of years ago. How often do we make our faith a performance–something we throw on Sunday mornings like a special-occasion dress so we can #church on social media? We tend make worship a bit of a spectacle, too, complete with loud songs, raised hands, and calls of “Amen” and “Praise Jesus!” None of this is wrong, per se, but God tells us that he wants more than the motions. In Isaiah, God’s not angry that the Israelites are worshipping emphatically–he’s furious that their so-called devotion doesn’t extend beyond the walls of the Temple.

While the Israelites are happy to bring sacrifices to God in worship, they most certainly aren’t doing so beyond that. They lie and cheat. They ignore those in need. They don’t defend the widows or help the orphans. And they oppress the immigrants. In fact, Isaiah goes so far as to say that the people of Israel have blood-stained hands. Maybe they haven’t physically hurt someone else, but their actions have perpetuated systems of injustice that have led to people being oppressed and neglected. When children are starving, who is responsible? God seems to say that we all are.

So, what does God want from us? Isaiah lays it out pretty clearly:

#saramsnyder

We are to be the people of hope–the feet that bring good news to the poor, sight to the blind, and release to the captives. Our acts of worship should fill us up with God’s spirit so that we can leave behind the walls of the church and bring God’s mercy and love to those on the streets…the hungry, addicted, enslaved, abused, grief-stricken, struggling, fearful, lonely people we meet every day.

God’s justice is different from the world’s justice. When the prophets speak of justice, they’re not always talking about retribution. Rather, it’s a reordering of priorities and practices. God’s justice is about freedom–breaking the chains of poverty, racism, sexism, ableism, violence, human trafficking, hunger, climate change so that all people can live into their God-given potential because all people are children of God.

God’s justice makes me want to move, to act, to sing the Good News into the world. Before Lent, I had a plan. I was going to make a justice calendar for myself that I could hang above my desk. There would be a daily act of justice, something small, but meaningful, I could check off each day. But as I considered this justice to-do list, I came to a daunting reality: You can’t schedule justice on a calendar.

The truth is, fighting oppression is a long slog through the bogs of humanity. Though we can give to the hungry, it takes a lot of time, effort, resources, and reordering of our systems of government and finance to ensure that every person can provide for themselves. Case in point, we once served a church that helped build a chicken farm in a community in Haiti. The farm was supposed to bring financial freedom to the people of the community and help their neighbors get sustenance, but these God-inspired goals were hit with the full force of political turmoil and economic oppression. The farm struggled, and though the people of the community are diligently trying to make it work, it’s an uphill battle.

Justice is hard, because it calls for a reordering of society. Justice is about relinquishing power, turning over our resources, making more room at the table for people who might make us uncomfortable. And honestly, I don’t always have the will or desire to do that. However, God is adamant that this is nonnegotiable. Remember when Jesus said: “Whatever you do for the least of these, you do for me?” That’s justice. And it’s so hard.

Fortunately, when it comes to hard things, we’re not alone. We have a God who can do infinitely more that we could ever plan or imagine. He makes things possible, though not necessarily easy. This Lenten season, I feel like I’m at the start of something. There’s a road that God is inviting me to follow, and I know we’re going to wind our way through some steep hills and marshy valleys. I don’t know anymore what this focus on justice will bring, but I know it’s a journey I have to take. Because we are kingdom builders. Even it we have to start with one small pebble at a time.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

New Year, One Word: Compassion

Over Christmas, our family took a trip to NYC–along with half the world’s population! It was beyond crowded at most of the tourist spots. Just for some perspective, here’s a look at our ferry on the way back from Ellis Island:

See those life vests up above? Just decoration…if that sardine can went down, we were all going with it.

If I’m being honest, I am not really at my best among hordes of people. In my better moments, I see crowds as a nuisance–something to get through in order to experience something I want. And at my worst…well…I mostly wish they would just all go away so I can fully enjoy whatever I want to enjoy. It’s selfish and entitled, and I am fully aware of that in the moment. Unfortunately, that awareness doesn’t always precipitate change.

That’s why I am floored that Jesus’ response to the overflow of people hounding him along his journey isn’t one of exasperation; rather, Matthew tells us (three times!) that Jesus saw the crowds and had compassion.

Compassion is a powerful word. It’s more than just feeling bad for someone. Instead, to have compassion means that you are so deeply concerned about the circumstances of another human being that, according to Merriam Webster, you have “an urgent desire to aid” them. When Jesus saw the crowds around him, his heart was broken open. He saw their sickness, both spiritual and physical, and was compelled by an urgent desire to make them better.

Too often, when I look at others, I don’t see them with compassion. I see the poor choices, the dirty fingernails, the tattered clothes, the coarse language, the cloying neediness, the boisterous braggadocio, the condescending glance, the mental illness, or even the gleaming success….and I walk away full of my own self-righteousness, somehow thinking that Jesus’ compassion is a gift only for me.

In the gospel of Luke, Jesus gives those who will listen a lesson on compassion. Love your enemies, he says. Do good, and lend expecting nothing in return. If you do, you will have a great reward. You will be acting the way children of the Most High act, for–and this is the kicker– he is kind to ungrateful and wicked people.

God is kind to ungrateful and wicked people. And who might those ungrateful and wicked people be, per se? Get a mirror.

God always sees right into the hearts of his children. And when he finds their particular sickness (which we all have), he doesn’t turn away. He is so concerned for them, for us, that he has an urgent desire to act. God brings healing and hope to all those he encounters. And, if we’re willing, he’s offering us the chance to take part in this healing with him by showing others compassion.

We are called to be a people of compassion–a people who are so concerned with the problems facing other human beings that we have an urgent desire to aid them. But so often, we let our own sickness keep us from engaging in this practice. We put ourselves first, and quite honestly, most of us don’t even show compassion there.

This year, my focus word is compassion. I want to look at others with Jesus’ eyes–to see beyond the surface and into the heart, and to allow that knowledge of who, what, and why someone is (fill in the blank) break open my soul and lead me to act rather than pass by. It won’t be easy…I realize that I’m fighting against some deeply ingrained habits of behavior. But if I open the door of my heart to God’s compassion, I think that change will come…

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

To Be Known

The other day, as I was talking to my 15-year-old in the kitchen, I noticed that he was sporting a new watch–a Hello Kitty watch. Where’d you get that?, I asked. And then answered my own question before he could get there. His buddy, _____, of course.

This is the same friend who got my son a copy of Thomas Paine’s Common Sense for his birthday, and who encouraged him to learn the guitar. This is the same friend my son competes with on a daily basis to see who can get first chair in band, score the highest on a math test, bench the most at the gym, and get the fastest mile on their bikes. These two challenge each other, celebrate each other, and just generally get each other.

As a parent, watching your child form meaningful and lasting friendships with people who get them is one of life’s greatest blessings. There’s something wonderful about being known–about being understood. You don’t have to explain your reasoning, justify your thinking, or apologize for your emotions. You can proudly wear a Hello Kitty watch to high school because it’s funny and weird and that is who you are and your friend understands that.

One of my favorite passages of Scripture comes from the Gospel of John. The “beloved”disciple begins his tale as all great tales start–in the beginning.

John establishes an almost symbiotic relationship between God and Jesus, both floating in the amniotic fluid of the universe and nursing new stars into being–each needing the other to bring forth their cosmic masterpiece. In the darkness of deep space light burst forth, and John tells us that the light was life spoken by the Word, and that this life-giving light of God was for all people. God, Jesus, and Spirit were one, and they enfolded humankind into their midst. Talk about a knowledge too great and wonderful for me!!

Often, when it comes to faith, I think we know (or think we know) a lot about God. We read Scripture and learn the stories of faith. We listen to teachers and understand the key points. We can say that God is good, or just, or merciful, or righteous. We can quote our favorite verses, and maybe list all of the books of the Bible. But knowing about someone isn’t the same as knowing them. To know someone goes so much deeper than being aware of the key events in their lives and maybe their favorite colors. We get to know others through relationship–in talking and sharing and laughing and crying and listening and understanding and journeying together. It takes time, and it takes effort, but the result is something so deep and beautiful and lasting that words can’t accurately convey it. It’s love distilled to its purest and simplest form. And it is what Jesus brings into the world.

John says that the Word became flesh and dwelt among us–we sing about it each December. But Jesus’ birth isn’t a pretty story to tell in the dark and cold of winter, it’s an opportunity to be known by the One who created us deep within our mother’s wombs. Because of Jesus, we can know God–we can walk and talk with him just like Adam and Eve did in Eden. And in Jesus, John tells us that the meaning and purpose of the universe–of life itself–comes into focus. Jesus invites us to know God as one of our closest companions, and it is in that knowing that our lives take shape.

At Christmas, we don’t celebrate the end of a story–rather, we celebrate the beginning of a deep and meaningful relationship. God made himself flesh and dwelt among us to bring us closer to him. How deep the Father’s love for us, indeed!

Merry Christmas!

Sara