Tag: jesus

What is a Christian?

Recently, I listened to a speech by a US Senator titled “What is an American?” In this senator’s framework, the definition of American was limited to White Anglo-Saxon Protestants (WASP) descended from Puritans and rugged frontiersmen who, apparently, tamed a continent and saved humanity. And if you can trace your lineage to one of these folks, you’re in. But if not, then America’s not really for you.

The speech bothered me, in part because it was filled with nationalist tropes and built on a mythos that was historically inaccurate, and discounted the contributions of millions of other Americans. It also bothered me because I know many Christians who applaud such ideas, and I don’t think we should. Which leads me to wonder: “What is a Christian?”

As I was pondering and praying, I read Ephesians 2–the second chapter of Paul’s letter to Gentile believers in which he outlines the crux of our faith: You are saved by God’s grace and have become an heir to his kingdom through the sacrifice of Jesus Christ alone. There were no ancestry lists to cross-reference, no list of deeds that had to be submitted and verified. You didn’t have to pay dues to join up, and you didn’t need to pass a test on Mosaic Law. The people of the Ephesian church were in because of the sacrifice of Jesus Christ, and no person and no circumstance on Earth could change that.

In essence, a Christian is someone who has accepted the grace offered by God through Christ and who seeks to live according to Christ’s teachings. It’s pretty simple, really. And Jesus simplified it even more when he said that all of the commandments boil down to two things: Love God; Love others. We’re the ones who overcomplicate it.

We draw boxes around church membership and make denomination labels. We establish rules and church laws and make judgements about who is in and who is out. The earliest churches did this, too, which is why Paul wrote so many letters. Because God’s house is big, and there is always room for one more.

This is what Paul tries to explain to the Ephesians in 2:17-19:

God brings people of different backgrounds together. Paul states that God proclaimed peace to those who were far away (the Gentiles) and to those who were near (the Jews,) and then he says, “Guess what? You’re all related now!”

But there’s something else Paul says that we can easily miss, and it’s huge. Paul writes that because of God, both Jews and Gentiles were citizens of God’s kingdom, which in ancient Rome, would have carried a lot of weight. It was hard to gain citizenship in ancient Rome. Generally speaking, you were either born into it, or you paid a lot of money for it. And citizenship mattered–a lot. There were many rights and privileges afforded to Roman citizens that no one else had, including the right to legally marry, give your children an inheritance, vote, own property, have a fair trial, and not be subjected to torture or crucifixion.

So, when Paul writes that everyone who has been saved by grace is a citizen of God’s kingdom, he means that they ALL had equal rights and privileges through Christ who joins people together, regardless of their earthly citizenship, and that was a profound contrast to the political status quo.

However, Paul hasn’t dropped the mic just yet. There’s more…because with God…there’s always more.

This image reflects the beauty and glory and love of God. He brings people from near and far together, and with Christ as the cornerstone and the apostles and prophets as foundation, we become a living embodiment of the one true King.

Several years ago, my husband and my parents and I were touring Westminster Abbey in London. A public communion service is held each day at noon, and my husband and I decided to take part. It was a surreal moment, sitting beneath the vaulted ceiling of a nearly millennial-old church and reciting liturgy that the faithful have been engaging in for even longer. But what gave me chills was when we said the Lord’s Prayer, because suddenly, I heard it being offered in several different languages at once. People prayed in French and Italian, Korean and Spanish, Dutch and Hindi. It was the first time I’d ever experienced the church universal, and it opened my eyes to the absolutely awe-inspiring wonder and beauty of God.

God’s kingdom isn’t relegated to one nation alone; rather, it encompasses the world. And each of us who calls ourselves Christian becomes part of that world-wide church. We might quibble over “trespasses” vs. “debtors”, debate the theologies of Calvin and Wesley, and even argue over juice vs. wine. But in the end, Paul shows us in Ephesians that we are one body–a living temple–fused together through Jesus Christ. And there is room for us all.

Jesus said that we cannot serve two masters, Either you will hate the one and love the other, or be loyal to one and have contempt for the other. Of course, he was speaking of wealth, but I think he could be speaking about politics, too. Do we worship God, or our political ideologies? There are those in many countries who would have us believe that our true identity lies in nationality alone, and that each of our respective nations is only open to a select group of people who prove can prove their worth. And maybe they are…I don’t know. But it’s a premise I reject.

God’s kingdom, however, is open to all who wish to enter, so long as we are willing to accept his gift of salvation. There is nothing to prove. But there is much to do. God longs to establish his kingdom here, and he wants us to help build it. Yet we can only do that if we’re worshipping God alone, together, with all of his people.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

A Confluence of Change

This weekend, we move our oldest son into college. I remember when I first went to college. My dad was a wreck. Like, a total hot mess wreck. He kept walking up to me, patting my head, and sighing. It was like I had some terminal condition, and I found it more cloying than charming. Of course, he didn’t talk about it–just stop, head pat, sigh. Finally, after I’d been at school a couple of weeks, I called to check in and we both sobbed into the phone until my mom got home and my dad tossed the call to her. It was absurd and funny, but now that I’m on the other side, it makes a lot of sense.

Launching kids is hard, and it seems completely unfair that it comes at that precise moment most of us are reaching mid-life. This confluence of change has left me feeling adrift. While I knew that my kids would grow up one day, and that I wouldn’t always be 28, it never occurred to me that this would take place NOW.

Over the past few months, I find a weird dichotomy taking place within. While I am highly cognizant of the passing of time and feel the need to “do the things” before the hourglass empties, I’m also spending more waking hours than normal reliving my past. Memories that I thought were just a few years ago, but I now realize were eons, flood my mind, and I find myself crying as I recall high school slumber parties, my childhood friends scattered around the floor in sleeping bags, talking, laughing, being young. There’s a literal feeling of mourning as I reflect on this time that was and will never be again–for those friends who are no longer with us, and also for the absolute freedom of standing in the middle of a wide-open road that beckons to the future with unlimited possibility.

As Katrina Kenison writes in The Gift of an Ordinary Day, “It is almost unfathomable that more than a quarter of a century separates me now from that teenage girl and her half-formed dreams. Harder still to believe that she’s grown up to be me, a middle-aged mother of two…”

Preach, sister. Yet even though we’re at the end of a season, I also feel myself at the precipice of a beginning, which can be just as confounding and heart-wrenching as the end. I suppose it’s because both end and beginning are part of the same movement–you can’t have one without the other. And while I keep looking for the beginning, I’m not quite sure where it starts. My husband is off on a new adventure–organizing, building, connecting within the community as he seeks to start a new mission. And while I’m whole-heartedly supportive of this endeavor, it’s not my dream. It’s not my beginning.

And so, I wait. And as I wait, God is reminding me, almost daily, that his plans require patience.

In Joshua, the promise God made to Abraham is finally fulfilled. Centuries have passed. People have come and gone. The world has moved on. God’s promise so long ago seems like the stuff of legend. It’s a good story, but not likely to be. But then, after Isaac and Jacob and Joseph and enslavement and freedom and Moses and the wilderness, God says it’s time to go. There is a promise to keep, and all is now ready.

God doesn’t care about time–at least, not in the way we care about time. He’s not going to hurry his plans to meet our desires because he knows what needs to be done and how it needs to be done and, sometimes, it takes a really long time. Look at the history of the universe–talk about playing the long game!

American writer Wendell Berry states:

I would argue that when what is known reveals itself to you, it is not by chance, but by God’s beautiful infinite design. And it comes when God is ready.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

When God Says, “Umm…I Didn’t Tell You To Do THAT”

This is a post from 2019, but it still rings true today. Sometimes, I want things to move so much more quickly than they do. I miss God’s rhythm, and I make a mistake. But God doesn’t just toss me out like a bad painting–he keeps his brush moving to create a masterpiece!

Proverbs 4_2 CEV

Awhile ago, I went with my Bible study group to a painting class. I have to tell you right now, art and I are not friends. As one artist sagely noted while grimacing at my misguided attempt to draw a beach scene, “Well, you have other gifts.” Truer words have never been spoken, and yet, I signed up for a painting class anyway. It was a lovely scene,  a graceful willow overhanging a still pond…dappled sunlight falling lightly through the leaves. I took one look at this portrait of sublime serenity and thought, you’ve got to be kidding!

90 minutes into the class, I was ready to be finished with the entire project. I had used all of my mental reserves to painstakingly craft a semi-shaded grassy embankment from which my graceful willow would spring. But, there were so many details involved in painting grass that I just did not have the energy or ambition to do anything else. And so, when it came time to create the wispy willows of the willow tree, I didn’t do my best. To be fair, I thought the instructor said to make tiny dots along the canvas for the willow branches. However, I was restless and tired and didn’t want to be paining willow leaves all night. So, instead of clarifying the instructions and copying the proper form, I did this.

Willow Branch

When the instructor came over to inspect our work, his response was less than encouraging. In fact, when a friend repeated what we thought his instructions were, his response was, and I quote, “I most certainly didn’t tell you to do THAT!” Instead of wispy willow branches lazily skimming the surface of a pond, I had Medusa’s head on a purple tree trunk. In my rush to be finished with a task that was tiring, I ended up with a useless painting I’m too embarrassed to even throw into the trash.

As I contemplate my Medusa-willow, I can’t help but reflect on the instructor’s exclamation, and my own heedless desire to forego process for finished product. In my rush to be done, I did a poor job, and the instructor made it abundantly clear that my work should in no way be considered a reflection of his teachings.

How often, do you think, we Jesus followers rush through the process of living by faith and mistake or misrepresent Jesus’ actual teaching? Do you feel like, sometimes, Jesus is echoes the  sentiments of the art instructor? Does Jesus ever say to us, “I most certainly didn’t tell you do to THAT!”?

If we’re honest, I think the answer is a resounding YES! The truth is, we all sin and fall short of the glory of God (Romans 3:23). The process by which we grow in our faith is long–a lifetime–and requires a lot of focus, a lot of effort, and a lot of intentionality. John says that when we run ahead of Christ, then we, in essence, run away from God. When we run ahead of Christ, we miss important details. The masterpiece of God’s creation within us becomes a bit of a mess. And, while God can absolutely redeem and restore it, wouldn’t it be better if we just followed instructions the first time? Proverbs tells us that God will teach us well, but we have to follow those teachings. But, how do we live that out? How to we go about living this Jesus life on a practical day to day basis?

First, I think we have to bathe our decisions in prayer, both the large and small. Most of us understand the need to seek God’s wisdom when it comes to major life decisions. But, I believe that seeking God’s wisdom in the small decisions can help us to better hear God’s voice in the midst of those major decisions. For example, sometimes I ask God if I can have a cookie. I know, it sounds crazy. But, here’s what I’ve found. If I go to God in prayer about a cookie, then he and I can have a conversation about the nature of the desire for the cookie. Is it really just about a cookie? Or is it about meeting a deeper emotional need? Going to God about a cookie can lead to deeper self-reflection and awareness. Moreover, if I can train myself to seek God for something as mundane and non-life-altering as a cookie, then I’m prepared to go to him when something truly life-altering comes my way.

Second, we need to clarify information by regularly reading Scripture. Scripture is God breathed. In the stories of faith, we find wisdom and guidance for our own faith journey. God’s Word is a lamp for our feet; a light for our path (Psalm 119). God’s Word shows us how to live. It reminds us that when we’re really frustrated at inefficiency in a place of business, that those serving (or not serving) us are children of God whom we are called to love and snapping at them will not improve the service (or lack thereof). God’s Word reminds us that we are to have compassion for the oppressed, not condemnation.  We are to seek justice, even when the world seems unrepairably unjust. God’s Word is instruction, and that instruction leads us on the pathway to life.

And so, my friends, this week I challenge you to seek God’s input. Seek his wisdom in matters both big and small. Then,  follow his instructions, even when you really just want to be finished with the whole process.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

 

One Week Later

It’s been one week since Easter Sunday.  One week since the church was full of people smiling, laughing, embracing and singing.  One week since the pews overflowed and the balcony door was thrown open.  One week since the “hallelujahs” and “amens” filled the air and we celebrated God’s victory over the grave.  One week…a lot can change.  On Easter Sunday we celebrate our salvation, we commemorate our freedom from a life of sin and death.  On Easter Sunday we take hope in transformation, both of ourselves and the world through the love of Christ.   On Easter Sunday, we BELIEVE.  Yet, as my husband asked the congregation in his sermon this morning, “Where are you today?”  Where are you one week later?  Do you still believe?

One week after Jesus’ resurrection, the disciples were stuck. They were locked in a room, for fear, John says, of the Jewish leaders. As they were huddled behind closed doors, Jesus appeared. And he told them this: 

It was time to go! The power of the resurrection had been imparted to the disciples–they literally carried the breath of God inside of them!! What wondrous things could they do? Apparently, none, because John says in verse 26 that one week later, the disciples were again hiding in that locked room. Seriously? Again??

Do you know how many times I’ve said that as a parent? Just the other day, my son came home and told me he’s accidentally dinged another car in a parking lot. “Again!?” I asked. How can he not figure this out? Or last week, when my other son got miffed because he had no clean clothes for school. “Again!” I asked. Tell me before you run out!

Jesus must have been a little bit exasperated with the disciples. They had SEEN Jesus, they had TOUCHED Jesus, they had IMBIBED the Holy Spirit and they still didn’t believe enough to LEAVE!!  The disciples were stuck in the muck of their fear and despair.  The chains were broken but they couldn’t bring themselves to open the door and step outside.  A world was waiting, and they were hiding out.

Interestingly, John seems to insinuate that it was all Thomas’s fault, like they were just waiting for their friend who had someone been absent from the first lockdown experience to show up. Then they’d share the good news and head out. But when Thomas heard about Jesus’s appearance to the disciples, he got very Midwestern about it, proclaiming quite obstinately that until he’d touched Jesus’s scars himself, he would not believe. I don’t think he really wanted to touch Jesus’s wounds–in fact, I don’t think he expected Jesus to even show up. But something funny happens when we lower our expectations in regard to Jesus…he tends to blow them up and silence all doubt.

I appreciate that in this moment Jesus didn’t say: “Again?!” He had compassion on the disciples. They were his friends, his brothers. He had shared life with them, and he loved them too much to let them remain in their fear and despair. Jesus came back (he always comes back). He came back for his friends. He came back for Thomas. And instead of giving the disciples some big lecture, he simply said, “Believe!”

Sometimes, like the disciples, we find ourselves longing for the freedom Christ brings but are too afraid to step out of ourselves to claim it.  And though we might profess to believe in the transforming love of God, we often fail to take that open, compassionate, and generous love out to a world in need.  We leave the miracle of the resurrection behind us in the sanctuary until next Easter rolls around.  Yet when we do that, we miss the entire point of the story.  Christ didn’t live, he LIVES.  HE LIVES!!  It is now up to us, his disciples, to act like it. We need to unlock the doors, leave the room, and expect Jesus to show up. In short, we need to believe.

Blessings and Peace,
Sara

The Complexities of Love

Sunset and Trees Landscape Good Evening Quote

Several years ago, I remember getting a phone call right before dinner. I was juggling plates, loading up food, and sniffing the milk to make sure it was drinkable when I glanced down at the caller ID and immediately sighed. Ugh…what now? 

The person calling me was someone I had been ministering to for awhile. This person was trying to get back on the path that leads to life, but it was a very rocky road, and I simply did not have the time nor desire to be a hiking guide. Instead of embracing the opportunity to show the love of God to someone in need, I instead chose to ask God why he insisted on brining people into my life who needed to be shown that love in the first place. With my best impersonation of Alicia Silverstone’s Clueless performance, I rolled my eyes to the sky and said, “Like, you know, God, I to-tal-ly have my own life!”

Of course, God responded in equal measure and I’m pretty sure I heard him say, “Are you serious right now?” I put down the plates and picked up the phone.

Sometimes, love is hard. If I’m being honest, I don’t always want to put out the effort to love. Love is messy. Love is complicated. Love is uncomfortable. Love makes you vulnerable. Love takes time. Love requires intentionality. Love is unpredictable. Love is hard. Why didn’t Paul say any of that in 1st Corinthians? I suppose no one would want to hang it on their living room wall…

It’s true though…real love is work. It’s so much easier to talk about it than to do it. Take my eldest. He’s come up with about 1000 different screenplays over the years that he plans to put into development one day when he sets forth on his moviemaking life in LA. But, put a pen and paper in the guy’s hand and he suddenly has something much more pressing to do than work out the details of a script that is so much more fun to just talk about. Scriptwriting is a lot of work. Talking about a concept, pretty easy.

The thing is, Jesus was pretty clear about the easy life, and it’s not for us would-be Jesus followers. Jesus said, if you want to follow me, you’d better be ready to work.

Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.

Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.-2

Jesus says that we can’t truly follow him unless we’re ready to give up ourselves and focus on others. We have to put aside our own ambition, our own wants, our own plans, our own will, our own perspective at times in order to put love into action. Because our job is to follow Jesus, and Jesus doesn’t always take us on a beach vacation. Where Jesus goes, life is rough. Where Jesus goes, people are broken. Where Jesus goes, shadows threaten. But Jesus makes rough places plain. Jesus heals the broken spirits. Jesus casts out the darkness with the light of his love. And my friends, he invites us to follow him on this journey.

I’m ashamed to admit that when it comes to putting love in action, I often don’t want to follow. I don’t want to give up my time, my energy, or my dinner plans to follow Jesus somewhere or to someone who makes me uncomfortable. I don’t want to see the broken, or walk in the shadows. But then Jesus says, if you can’t put my love into action, then you can’t really follow me. And I want to follow Jesus. I want to follow Jesus because he is the way, and the truth, and the life.  I want to follow Jesus because I thrive in his presence. I want to follow Jesus because he gives my life purpose. So, I need to work more on talking less and walking more. I need to put Jesus’ love in action, so that others can know how great his love truly is.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

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