You've Got to Stand for Something

Life is busy, so I must apologize to the blogosphere for my lack of attentiveness; however, I have had a very interesting past few weeks, so I've got something to say (not the first time, obviously).  This is no deep revelation, but a simple lesson that needs to be reinforced in youth and adults alike.

One of my amazing co-workers shared with out students last week the story of Amanda Todd.  Now, if you watch the news, you probably already know the story, but if you're oblivious to current events like me, I'll share the basics.  Amanda Todd was chatting online as a 13 year-old.  For parents, I know this is a red flag.  As a girl looking for some attention and approval, she very much enjoyed the compliments made by her online buddies about her looks.  After chatting with an individual for a while, he asked her to flash him.  She did, and that person used the photo to blackmail her.  The picture circulated around the internet, and she began to be tormented and bullied by kids at school.  After battling depression and attempted suicide by ingesting bleach, kids continued to laugh and to make posts about her, saying that they hope she succeeded next time.  Eventually, she did.  But not until she made this youtube video describing her experience.

I know we hear a lot about bullying in the media, and you've probably told your kids that bullying is wrong.  The issue is not whether it's right or wrong, but what is it?  During our conversation, I began to see how this could be debatable, because we were operating on different ideas of bullying.  Everyone agreed that they wouldn't tell someone to kill him or herself, but laughing when someone does something stupid seemed acceptable to most.

I know we laugh a lot at people who are clumsy or say blonde things, but at what point do those comments become bullying?  Is there a numerical equation for how much is too much, or should you be able to judge how much a person can handle?  Webster defines bully (v.) as "to treat abusively; to affect by means of coercion or force."  "To treat abusively" seems like another hard-to-define phrase, because abuse looks different to people.  I don't think someone who laughs at that girl who walks out of the bathroom with toilet paper on her shoe is abusive, but that could be psychologically damaging to her if everyone laughs especially if it's not the first time.

My definition of bullying is currently unresolved.  I would consider any harmful thing said to another in order to express your superiority (social or physical) is bullying, but maybe there should be another term to define those "lesser" offenses.  I do think that kids having no issue with calling each other names based on their weight, height, religion, or sexual orientation is disturbing, though.  This tormenting (if it's not bullying) seems to be common and maybe just as harmful as bullying.  Instead of using a term like bullying to teach our youth what not to do, maybe we should just use God's own words:

Love one another, as I have loved you.       -John 15:12

No matter if you call if bullying, tormenting, or name-calling, it's not called love, and we are called to love.

What Kinda Gone Are We Talkin' Bout Here?

My chains are gone

I've been set free

My God, my Savior has ransomed me

And like a flood His mercy rains

Unending love, Amazing grace

This week, we talked about confession in bible study.  It's not an easy topic, so we started at the beginning.  How do we confess? Why do we confess? Is confession beneficial? Confession sometimes removes guilt, and we recognized that we feel better when people have the courage to confess to us, even if we already knew we'd been wronged.  The hardest part of confession and asking forgiveness is not the the utterance, not the courage, but the acceptance of forgiveness.

As children, and victims of abuse, some of my kids have never experienced forgiveness in the way I have.  All week, I've been singing "Amazing Grace" to myself.  I played the original song on the piano several times over the weekend, sang modern versions including "Grace Like Rain" and "My Chains Are Gone", and grace has overflowed in my mind as a general topic. I'm typically hard on myself and have trouble forgiving myself for mistakes, but I never doubt the forgiveness I receive from God.  This is the opposite, I learned, from the kids I work with.  God's grace and mercy are foreign concepts to them, and I can not convince them that God is bigger than any and all sins they can commit.  Paul comes into play every week, but he's a "bible character", so apparently he's an exception.

God's unending love, mercy, and grace have been emphasized so heavily to me that I get it; I understand. Even when others don't forgive me, or I can't bear to forgive myself, God forgives and loves us wholeheartedly.  While I shared this message with a small group of teenagers this evening, they looked perplexed.  Their understanding was this: Sin=death and my personal list of sins=fire and brimstone.  It's a simple equation, but there's one BIG problem.  Jesus is missing.  

I have fallen in love with a line spoken by Jeff Bethke in Why I Hate Religion but Love Jesus: "Religion says do, Jesus says done".  If I can accomplish one thing in my two years here, I hope I can help these kids understand that their equation is correct, but if Jesus is added to the equation, death and fire and brimstone are negated.  

The opposite of death is life, but you don't have to delete all sin to delete death, you just have to add Jesus.  I understand our urge for young people to follow the commandments and "do what Jesus would do"(it's ambitious and admirable), but I am sincerely scared for our youth when they are told to fear God so much that they run from Him.  

"My chains are gone; I've been set free".  This is such a powerful message, but for some it's unimaginable.  I hope that we can experience amazing grace together, and be set free.  This is my daily task.  Next time you warn a young person of God's punishment, PLEASE also share the grace and love offered through Jesus Christ.  Murphy Harpst's slogan is "Life and Hope for Children".  Support the ministry by offering life and hope to the children you meet, a life and hope found in Jesus Christ.

God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us. -Romans 5:8

Love Without End, Amen

Driving to Rome the other day, I saw this on a church sign

My first inclination was to shame those people for being religiously intolerant.  In the South, there is a sort of nationalist pride for this great country, our military, and our freedom.  Yet some seem to want the freedom of religion to allow prayer in schools, as long as it is to our God, and NOT Allah.  This pseudo-religious freedom is befuddling to me.  How can you condemn another religion and still be surprised when someone calls you a hypocrite?

Despite my first reaction, I allowed a different thought, instead, to manifest itself.  We are called to love one another above all else and that command should be extended to those of other religions AND those that are intolerant.  If we condemn another for not accepting everyone, are we not disregarding our very own preaching that says to love everyone in spite of their different beliefs? 

Sometimes we find it hard to love people whose history is so foreign to our own, but recently I have found the difficulty in loving those who claim to love and serve the same God as me.  It pains me to see the Christian Church (universal) represented as an intolerant people who cannot see the glory of God in ALL His children.  But the solution to this problem is not hating those who hate, but loving them in spite of their intolerance.  In Romans, we are instructed to not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good (Rom 12:21).  

This morning, our Sunday school class talked about pride and how it interrupts our servanthood.  John Ortberg writes, "pride is a form of antilove...Pride moves us to exclude instead of to embrace...Pride moves us to judge rather than to serve."  Many times our service to God and loving Him and his people gets interrupted by our pride and judgment.  We are called to embrace, to love, and to serve.

Jesus told this parable in Luke 18:9-14:

Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.’ But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.

Next time you get the inclination that your place in heaven is higher than another's, remember this parable.  Don't allow your judgment to impede your service or your pride to hinder your love.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.   -1 Cor 13:13

Every Day's a Holiday

Last time I preached at chapel, we talked about the discipline of celebration.  I'm sure many of you have sat in a Sunday morning pew and heard the Joys and Concerns and noticed that there are usually more concerns, because we rarely share the small joys.  We express the miracles and healing, but sometimes we forget to recognize all the little things that make our days worth living.

Yesterday, I chatted with a resident who was having trouble finding something to celebrate.  With a deceased father and an absent mother, she was feeling lost and struggling to find joy in her life.  As a lucky girl with two healthy parents, I couldn't do much comforting, so I tried another technique.  I asked her what her goals were and what she wanted to do someday.  Her only desire is to be reunited with her family.  Recognizing how hard it would be to divert her attention, we tried to think of some little things that made her happy, things she could look forward to.  They're not miracles, but seeing that cute boy at school or chatting with Miss Jerrica helped her crack a smile that had disappeared for a while.  We celebrate the big things, but it's the little things that make each day worth living.

At the end of our service last Thursday, we sang a classic This is the day that the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it!  Sometimes, we miss the little things, like the bird chirping outside the window, the ray of sunlight shining through the clouds, or that stranger that smiles just because.  What we should never fail to miss is that every day is a day that was created and bestowed on us by God.  That is a reason to rejoice, to celebrate.

Blair Holliday, a member of the Duke football team suffered a serious head injury this summer from a wakeboarding accident that ended his football career.  He has shared how thankful he is to be alive and standing on the sidelines, despite the amount of physical therapy in his future.  To support his family, the student body have been buying tanks that say Every Day is a Holliday and raising funds for his medical bills.  What some may not realize is the message that this shirt sends.

The word holiday comes from holy day.  There is so much truth to those shirts, despite the frat star neon lettering.  Every day is holy- a day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in that holy day, or "holiday" if you prefer.

These Are My People

HOMECOMING!

This weekend, I have spent spending time with close friends and fellow Duke alumni celebrating Homecoming.  I somewhat consider Duke a home-away-from-home, but it's hard to say I feel completely at-home here still.  Things change, and when you're not present for the transition, that change seems drastic.  For example, the furniture in my living room at the Wesley House is no longer the same, the paint in my old room has changed, and there are people living in what I called home that I don't even know.  But that's okay.

Part of the growing process is letting go of those things that seem so important and moving on to the great possibilities that are before us.  While reminiscing at Homecoming, we remember the past and talk a lot about our futures, but what is so beautiful is the present.  At Asbury UMC this morning, I got to share about the ministry of presence and how it has manifested itself in my life.  I shared the story from "Love Is A Beautiful Thing" and was overwhelmed by the response from the church that I called home for four years.  I say the present is beautiful, because had I not moved on from Duke, I wouldn't have that story to share.  I wouldn't have the glow of true joy on my face that comes from seeing God every day in this ministry, and I wouldn't have this adult perspective that I have attained.

Friday, we attended the President's Homecoming Ball, which I cherish among my top Duke social events of the year.  Walking into the gym, it was hot, crowded, and I couldn't hear my friend trying to talk to me 3 feet away.  In undergrad, that was fun.  Not so much now.  Maybe my priorities have changed, but I enjoyed sitting in Nick's house watching football Saturday night more than this fancy cocktail party.

With so many fellow Class of 2012 alumni gracing the campus with their presence, Duke seemed like the home I remembered, but my personal affect was different.  I started to realize that maybe Duke hasn't changed so much, but I have.  These are my people, always have been, and always will be.  The tides have changed, but the ties remain.  I look forward to them visiting my new home in a few weeks.

Wesley break team trip to Atlanta!  S/O to Courtney Murray!

You Know How I Feel

I haven't written recently, because honestly, I didn't want to.  I've had a rough week - not that anything bad has happened - but my spirits just haven't been the highest.  I started wrestling with some of God's reasons for not making this whole missionary/chaplain thing easier.  As much as I wanted to push everyone away, claiming that they couldn't and wouldn't understand, I knew that others had felt pain like mine, even if it wasn't the exact same situation.  

Yesterday began week one of "Lost and Found", our group bible studies in the cottages.  I did not expect every child to be enthusiastic about a bible study, but I was not prepared fully for the welcome party in the boy's cottage that was my first stop.  Apparently, the activity for everyone else was outside, and they were extremely mad that I was taking up what would be their football time.  This was a crisis, the worst-case scenario for them and I was the villain.  Needless to say, I was feeling a little unappreciated and unwelcome.  We suffered together, and I got them to hear me out when I started sharing a story related to sports.

Luckily, a mere two hours later, I met with a group of very intelligent young women with lots of questions that are eager to know more about the bible, God, and faith.  I was sad that our conversation had to be cut short, because I was learning from their perspectives and enjoying their presence.  At the end of our evening, I had heard this repeated struggle from many of them.  Basically, where are you God and why aren't you helping me in this situation that I'm in?  I felt their pain, but I thought my 1 Corinthians reference to one body with many members and how we all suffer together wasn't quite sufficient.  As I flipped through the Psalms for a prayer to offer up, I literally fell into Psalm 22.  By the grace of God, I shared the first five verses to help them realize that their pain had been felt by others, and there is hope for the future.

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning?

O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer; and by night, but find no rest.

Yet you are holy, enthroned on the praises of Israel.

In you our ancestors trusted; they trusted, and you delivered them.

To you they cried, and were saved; in you they trusted, and were not put to shame.

When I looked up, there were tears in several eyes, and one girl asked me if I felt what happened in that moment.  Of course, I felt the presence of God, but I was so happy to know that she had felt it too.  The moment was special, beautiful, and when I came close to tears in my frustration, this passage came back to my mind to remind me that others have felt my pain.  "Our ancestors trusted; they trusted, and you delivered them."  

Deliver me, Oh God, because You know how I feel.

Like the Rain

I never liked the rain until I walked through it with you
Every thunder cloud that came was one more I might not get through
On the darkest day there's always light and now I see it too
But I never liked the rain until I walked through it with you

I know this may hit some of my Oklahoma friends hard as they would appreciate rain and cooler weather SO much right now, but I'm pretty much tired of rain in Cedartown.  It has drizzled/sprinkled/rained nearly every day this past week, and I am ready for some sunshine.  Mostly the rain is calm and peaceful-- no thunderstorms or gusting wind.  But this post is not about the weather, it's about the emotional and spiritual storms and rain showers that we encounter daily.

We've had some rain showers, some thunder claps, but not what I would consider a thunderstorm.  Of course, thunderstorms are nothing once you've experienced tornadoes and hailstorms.  I've shared about the beauty that can be found alongside pain, and I truly believe that I'm learning to bear the rain and thunder, although I can't say I enjoy it.

The wonderful thing about the rain is that others are walking along with you.  Playing in the rain is fun, especially when you can get a little muddy, but it's no fun when you're alone.  Labor Day, we played in the rain.  My lifeguarding training came in handy as I was able to open the pool for the kids, and they enjoyed the rain (so did I).  Don't leave someone out in the rain alone.  There's beauty and enjoyment to be found when we don't run inside, but instead play and sing in the rain!

I never liked the rain until I walked through it with You.