I'm not one for cheesy poems, but this one seems different. It was written by Carol Wimmer (not Maya Angelou as popularly credited).
When I say ... "I am a Christian,"
I'm not shouting "I'm clean livin'.
I'm whispering "I was lost,
Now I'm found and forgiven."
When I say ."I am a Christian,"
I don't speak of this with pride.
I'm confessing that I stumble,
And need CHRIST to be my guide.
When I say ... "I am a Christian,"
I'm not trying to be strong.
I'm professing that I'm weak,
And need HIS strength to carry on.
When I say ... "I am a Christian,"
I'm not bragging of success.
I'm admitting I have failed,
And need God to clean my mess.
When I say ... "I am a Christian,"
I'm not claiming to be perfect.
My flaws are far too visible,
But God believes I am worth it.
When I say ... "I am a Christian,"
I still feel the sting of pain.
I have my share of heartaches,
So I call upon His name.
When I say ... "I am a Christian,"
I'm not holier than thou.
I'm just a simple sinner
Who received God's good grace somehow.
29 August 2008
18 August 2008
Crumbs from the Table.
Sunday's lectionary Gospel reading is one of the hardest I've heard in a while. We've come off a few weeks of fun miracles--the feeding of the 5,000, Jesus walking on water, etc. We've witnessed Jesus' ability to care for people in really pragmatic ways (I mean, he fed people--lots of fish and bread) and his desire to strengthen their faith (step out of the boat Peter).
But this Sunday, the lectionary lands us in the middle of one of our hardest encounters with Christ. The Jesus we know wouldn't turn people away. But here, in Matthew 15, we see Jesus tell the Canaanite woman (very directly) that He won't heal her daughter because she isn't a Jew.
She doesn't give up. She asks again, and this time he tells her that it's not right to give dogs the children's bread. It's probably safe to assume we aren't talking about our family pet here. This isn't a compliment. In fact, I'd say its mean.
Imagine--Jesus being mean? Not very Christ-like, eh?
She still doesn't give up. She responds: Yes, Lord. But even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master's tables.
Wow. As I read that aloud in church Sunday, it pierced me. Her faith in the crumbs made her daughter well. Jesus changed his mind.
That is where Christ is in this story. He's in the healing, but more importantly He shows us that minds can be changed. And He proves to us that His love is open to all.
We all are searching for the crumbs from the table. Think of how the crumbs sustain us, then imagine how the feast will heal us all.
Thank God.
blessings,
jon.
But this Sunday, the lectionary lands us in the middle of one of our hardest encounters with Christ. The Jesus we know wouldn't turn people away. But here, in Matthew 15, we see Jesus tell the Canaanite woman (very directly) that He won't heal her daughter because she isn't a Jew.
She doesn't give up. She asks again, and this time he tells her that it's not right to give dogs the children's bread. It's probably safe to assume we aren't talking about our family pet here. This isn't a compliment. In fact, I'd say its mean.
Imagine--Jesus being mean? Not very Christ-like, eh?
She still doesn't give up. She responds: Yes, Lord. But even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master's tables.
Wow. As I read that aloud in church Sunday, it pierced me. Her faith in the crumbs made her daughter well. Jesus changed his mind.
That is where Christ is in this story. He's in the healing, but more importantly He shows us that minds can be changed. And He proves to us that His love is open to all.
We all are searching for the crumbs from the table. Think of how the crumbs sustain us, then imagine how the feast will heal us all.
Thank God.
blessings,
jon.
09 August 2008
Madeline L'Engle on Forgiveness
And ultimately forgiveness is a gift of grace rather than an act of will. I have to be willing to forgive, but I cannot will myself to forgive. I can forgive with my mind, but forgiveness is finally a matter of the heart. And the forgiveness of the heart comes from God, not from me. My part in it is to be willing to accept it. One test which indicates whether or not forgiveness has really taken place is to look at whatever it is that needs to be forgiven and see if it still hurts. If it does, forgiveness has not yet happened. But I have also learned, and I have learned it through pain, that I must be patient with myself. Just as my body is going to need more time to co plete its healing from the physical trauma of the accident, so my heat, my spirit, also need time, and I, ever impatient, must be patient with myself.
03 August 2008
Dented Cans
Two weeks ago, YTI hosted A Day of Interfaith Youth Service. It was a smashing success. We had over 60 kids descend upon the Atlanta Community Food Bank and MedShare International.
The day started out rough. I scraped a van on a cement piling, then was bugged the whole time I was driving to the food bank. The night before was a challenge. A beautiful worship service suddenly turned into a sideshow. And I was heading toward the end of a ten-day on duty stint. It was hard.
By the time we arrived at the food bank, I was ill. I was tired and grumpy and pissy and irritated. When we gathered in their volunteer room to eat lunch, I discovered my sandwich was nothing but bread and tuna--plain tuna.
We watched a cute video on the food bank, then were sent to our stations in the warehouse. I mindlessly inspected cans for expiration dates and damage. Soon, four hours had passed.
It was nice--doing mindless, productive work. In the midst of a program that challenges the deepest notions of God and the world, it was calming and relieving to accomplish something. At the end of the day they told us the amount of work we'd done--over 7,000 meals were sorted and packaged.
It was a powerful experience in another way. As we sorted, the majority of goods that passed through our hands were dented and damaged. Some were completely broken, others were jagged. But most were just the cans that were passed over because they carried a dent or two.
Yet it was these dented cans that would feed the hungry, and it that way, they carried life.
Then I realized, we're the dented cans.
blessings.
jon.
The day started out rough. I scraped a van on a cement piling, then was bugged the whole time I was driving to the food bank. The night before was a challenge. A beautiful worship service suddenly turned into a sideshow. And I was heading toward the end of a ten-day on duty stint. It was hard.
By the time we arrived at the food bank, I was ill. I was tired and grumpy and pissy and irritated. When we gathered in their volunteer room to eat lunch, I discovered my sandwich was nothing but bread and tuna--plain tuna.
We watched a cute video on the food bank, then were sent to our stations in the warehouse. I mindlessly inspected cans for expiration dates and damage. Soon, four hours had passed.
It was nice--doing mindless, productive work. In the midst of a program that challenges the deepest notions of God and the world, it was calming and relieving to accomplish something. At the end of the day they told us the amount of work we'd done--over 7,000 meals were sorted and packaged.
It was a powerful experience in another way. As we sorted, the majority of goods that passed through our hands were dented and damaged. Some were completely broken, others were jagged. But most were just the cans that were passed over because they carried a dent or two.
Yet it was these dented cans that would feed the hungry, and it that way, they carried life.
Then I realized, we're the dented cans.
blessings.
jon.
11 July 2008
love @ YTI
For the month of July, I'm working with the Youth Theological Initiative (YTI) at Emory University. The program brings students between their junior and senior years in high school together for a one month session of fellowship, classes, and theology with a little service and fun thrown in.
It's an intense month. Relationship are created quickly, and they run deep. Stories are told alongside personal experiences, and soon we are swimming in a sea of humanity--and realizing that something must be connecting us all.
I recently had one of these experiences. I shared with some scholars (what we call the kids who come) about my experience as a gay Christian. At one point in our discussion, I stated my belief that "loving someone is never the wrong answer."
Here is part of a note that one wrote to me about that time together:
To truly love someone is to want them to be happy and fulfilled with their lives, without any regard to your own happiness or comfort. To see love as such a pure emotion is to actually understand what Jesus did for us. As Christians we often just say things about love loosely, but today everything has become clear, love is the most powerful emotion and decision we can ever experience and that LOVE should never be conditioned, it should be given to everyone just like Jesus did.
So why are we so fixated about an issue like homosexuality, whether God approves of it or not, whether we should tell them its wrong or not, if a person can touch so many young people simply by singing such a beautiful song that complimented the breeze, the grass, the trees, and just reminded us a little bit, of God's creation and how he uses us in different ways? Put simply, how [God] loves us infinitely.
These kids, they amaze me.
blessings.
jon.
It's an intense month. Relationship are created quickly, and they run deep. Stories are told alongside personal experiences, and soon we are swimming in a sea of humanity--and realizing that something must be connecting us all.
I recently had one of these experiences. I shared with some scholars (what we call the kids who come) about my experience as a gay Christian. At one point in our discussion, I stated my belief that "loving someone is never the wrong answer."
Here is part of a note that one wrote to me about that time together:
To truly love someone is to want them to be happy and fulfilled with their lives, without any regard to your own happiness or comfort. To see love as such a pure emotion is to actually understand what Jesus did for us. As Christians we often just say things about love loosely, but today everything has become clear, love is the most powerful emotion and decision we can ever experience and that LOVE should never be conditioned, it should be given to everyone just like Jesus did.
So why are we so fixated about an issue like homosexuality, whether God approves of it or not, whether we should tell them its wrong or not, if a person can touch so many young people simply by singing such a beautiful song that complimented the breeze, the grass, the trees, and just reminded us a little bit, of God's creation and how he uses us in different ways? Put simply, how [God] loves us infinitely.
These kids, they amaze me.
blessings.
jon.
15 May 2008
An Easter Email
I stumbled across the Easter e-mail (that's right) from Dr. Jan Love, Dean of Candler School of Theology. I meant to share it then, but later is better than never.
blessings,
jon.
This is the Easter Oration of St. Gregory the Theologian, 4th Century. It is less a prayer than a declaration. I like to read it as a prayer, however, and offer it as such here.
The translation I am using is from Let Us Pray to the Lord, edited by Georges Lemopoulos.
Yesterday I was crucified with him;
today I am glorified with him.
Yesterday I died with him;
today I am made alive in him.
Yesterday I was buried with him;
today I am raised up with him.
Let us offer ourselves to him
who suffered and rose again for us.
Let us become divine for his sake,
since for us he became human.
He assumed the worse that he might give us the better.
He became poor that by his poverty we might become rich.
He accepted the form of a servant
that we might win back our freedom.
He came down that we might be lifted up.
He was tempted that through him we might conquer.
He was dishonored that he might glorify us.
He died that he might save us.
He ascended that he might draw to himself us,
who were thrown down through the fall of sin.
Let us give all, offer all, to him
who gave himself a ransom and reconciliation for us.
We needed an incarnate God, a God put to death,
that we might live.
We were put to death together with him
that we might be cleansed.
We rose again with him
because we were put to death with him.
We were glorified with him
because we rose again with him.
A few drops of blood
recreate the whole of creation!
blessings,
jon.
This is the Easter Oration of St. Gregory the Theologian, 4th Century. It is less a prayer than a declaration. I like to read it as a prayer, however, and offer it as such here.
The translation I am using is from Let Us Pray to the Lord, edited by Georges Lemopoulos.
Yesterday I was crucified with him;
today I am glorified with him.
Yesterday I died with him;
today I am made alive in him.
Yesterday I was buried with him;
today I am raised up with him.
Let us offer ourselves to him
who suffered and rose again for us.
Let us become divine for his sake,
since for us he became human.
He assumed the worse that he might give us the better.
He became poor that by his poverty we might become rich.
He accepted the form of a servant
that we might win back our freedom.
He came down that we might be lifted up.
He was tempted that through him we might conquer.
He was dishonored that he might glorify us.
He died that he might save us.
He ascended that he might draw to himself us,
who were thrown down through the fall of sin.
Let us give all, offer all, to him
who gave himself a ransom and reconciliation for us.
We needed an incarnate God, a God put to death,
that we might live.
We were put to death together with him
that we might be cleansed.
We rose again with him
because we were put to death with him.
We were glorified with him
because we rose again with him.
A few drops of blood
recreate the whole of creation!
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