Walking in Ephesians by Meredith Eaton

“So, how’s your walk with the Lord?”

I confess I’ve always felt this question is a bit cheesy Christianese.  But, of course, feelings, least of all my feelings, aren’t the best gauge of what is true and right.

A couple weeks ago, someone used Ephesians 5:1-2 as a devotional:

Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children; and walk in love, just as Christ also loved you and gave Himself up for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God as a fragrant aroma.

By my count, “walk” is used seven times in this book of only six chapters. So, there must be something to this Christian-walk talk. After all, John Bunyan’s allegory, published in 1678, has never been out of print. Yes, God likes metaphors, so what’s the big deal?

What was exciting to me as I read the “walk” verses is how God not only tells us our purpose, but also supplies the answers for our questions along the way. He instructs and then comes alongside. 2 Timothy 3:16 came to life (“All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness).

 Imagine yourself embarking on this journey…

What can we do when we get weary?  God’s prescription is to be “renewed in the spirit of your mind, and put on the new self, which in the likeness of God has been created in righteousness and holiness of the truth” (4:23-24). Truth refreshes.

What about when our burdens slow us down? “…[L]ay aside the old self… put on the new self… laying aside falsehood, speak truth…”  (4:22, 24, 25). We can throw off the unnecessary weight that we were never made to carry.

And when discouraged?  “Let no unwholesome word proceed from your mouth, but only such a word as is good for edification according to the need of the moment, so that it will give grace to those who hear” (4:29). Grace!

Who should we  travel with?  “[T]he wrath of God comes upon the sons of disobedience. Therefore do not be partakers with them; for you were formerly darkness, but now you are Light in the Lord; walk as children of Light…” (5:6-8). Our closest companions should be brothers and sisters in Christ.

How do we prevent getting off-track? “Therefore be careful how you walk, not as unwise men but as wise, making the most of your time, because the days are evil” (5:15-16). Stay alert.

And maybe the most encouraging truth I gleaned from this little walk through Ephesians is that we are not trailblazing a new path. Jesus said He is the Way. We are to “walk in love, just as Christ also loved you and gave Himself up for us…” Christ has done it all for us. He is not asking us to go anywhere He hasn’t already gone. Nor has He left us to ourselves. He is Emmanuel, God with us. Hallelujah.

So, how’s your walk with the Lord?

What's Heaven Like? by Faith Christiansen Smeets

Our friend’s rabbit died a horrible death. He was a little delectable beast, somewhat charming and good-looking. He was also the right amount of meaty, hearty even. He looked acceptable to eat in, like, I don’t know, the Y2K era when you had to think about that sort of stuff. Stuff like what would you do if Al Gore’s interweb shut down and banks had all your money under their mattresses or wherever banks hide your money. What do you do then? You start thinking about what you are going to eat. Deciding what you might have to kill in order to survive is one of those things people immediately start to talk about when they think the world is going to end. You would be amazed at what people will eat or not eat during the course of that conversation. Personally, I’d eat anything, but I think it would be really hard to eat my dog. To be clear, I did not say I wouldn’t, I said it would be "hard." I am happy to inform you that no one had to kill and eat a pet because of Y2K. Truthfully, I kind of miss the Y2K talk. Doomsday-preppers are way off trend, though. That was so 1999.

In the end, it was a dog that killed the rabbit. Inspector Morse, the rabbit, was named after a favorite television detective whose Wikipedia entry describes him as “ostensibly the embodiment of white, male, middle-class Englishness.” I would say that is a pretty spot-on description. The rabbit was white, male, middle-class, and the sort that would never miss afternoon tea. When the rabbit died that afternoon, around tea-time, there was much mourning and wailing from the children. The elder four of the six children were noticeably more upset. I do believe, though, they were probably feeding off of one another like children do, and perhaps were not really that forever sad; it was a temporal kind of sadness. When it comes to children, if one child is crying, they are all crying—with or without the untimely death of a beloved pet.

Picture this: They are all crying and the man of the house, in his business casual attire, begins to dig the giant, beautiful, well-bred rabbit a grave in the front yard . I fear coyotes will rape the grave of any dignity, but it’s not my rabbit to bury nor my place to argue over something I cannot guarantee. Do coyotes dig up dead rabbits? I'll have to look that up. My son, Ignatius, gets in on the pomp and circumstance of laying the rabbit to rest. Digging a hole, finding a box, petting a dead animal, building a cross, and decorating for the funeral with desert weeds from the Phoenician yard are all part of the excitement—after the crying had stopped, of course. The “dad” of Inspector Morse is a dedicated Catholic man who gives a small service for the rabbit. Ignatius remains vigilant, wide-eyed, and involved. He wants to participate in the Hail Marys, but he’s not quite sure how, though the significance of it all was not lost on the three-year-old. Death and pets are very tangible for children. We recite the Lord’s Prayer and bid our final adieu. Each child tosses a small handful of dirt on the cardboard box and then the beloved pet is buried with shovels full of cement-dense desert dirt. Ignatius becomes highly committed and full of purpose along with the younger children in the outlining of the grave with rocks they have collected from around the yard. The landscaping is perfect for this sort of thing. No one is complaining about a rock lawn when you need rocks to outline a rabbit grave in your front yard. No one. It was officially over when the kids ran back inside to watch something that was streaming on the interwebs and eat snacks. Snacks have the power to end childhood pet grief, I assure you. I think Inspector was in heaven already, not really missing the children anyway. So it’s even- steven. 

I do believe our pets go to heaven whether we bury them, are forced to eat them, or talk about having to do either/or. I think we will be able to enjoy them there without ever having to talk about whether we need to eat them or not, or how sad it will be when they die. I could be wrong, but it would be fun to be right—and see Inspector Morse up there just relaxin' , chillin', feelin' all cool for our enjoyment. RIP, see you real soon. And if I'm wrong, I am not too worried about it because I am in Heaven without a care in the world that once was.

I'm the witch. You're the world. By Kirsten Snyder

Stephen Sondheim wrote the lyrics for Into the Woods. This is one of my favorite Broadway musicals. Not only is the storyline so different from the normal fairy tale, but the original cast had Bernadette Peters (da best) as the witch. Last year's movie did a decent version of the original play, but much was left out; I advise you to watch the stage version whenever you have a chance. The tale melds several well-known fairytales together, and gives incite into the drive and character of the normally, idealized cast. If you have seen the TV show Once Upon a Time, the play Wicked or any of the recent movies—such as Malificent—where the villain is portrayed in a new light, Into the Woods is likely an inspiration for them.

As in any story, each person has a simplistic, rigid and set position;  there are the “Baker,” the “Prince,” the “Poor,” and the “Witch.” Each character in the story goes into the woods to change something in their lives, something about their position.

            Into the woods

                        To get the thing

                        That makes it worth

                        The journeying.

One by one, as the cast starts changing things, and they find the change is not what they expected. Sometimes, you can take the Ella out of the cinders, but you can't take the Cinders out of the Ella, and sometimes Ella doesn't want the cinders to entirely go away. Characters also find that, with their realized wish, come new responsibility. How true is this in real life?

Consider potential wishes:

·      We live in probably the easiest time period our earth has known, and yet we still struggle in every aspect of life. One of my favorite quotes—and I will be honest, I tell myself this when I struggle in marriage, parenthood, etc.—is that  “the grass is greener on the other side because it is fertilized with BS manure.” A more biblical approach would be found in Philippians 4:11. Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content.

Consider potential identity crises:

·      Still wanting to belong: “Don't be fooled by the rocks that I got, I'm still, I'm still Jenny from the block” - Jennifer Lopez

·      Impostor feelings: “He heard students discussing wealth so casually, it felt fantastical.” Teen goes from homeless shelter to finishing her first year at Georgetown

·      Acting white: 'Acting White' Remains a Barrier for Black Education

·      Acting black: Local NAACP leader, professor of African studies, outed as WHITE

Consider potentially rigid narratives:

·      In foster care, I hear a barrage of noise—these kids simply need to be loved out of their situations: you got them when they were so young, or you've had them for so long. Why aren't they...better? So, why is it that in one agency in the valley, 90% of the kids in HCTC (Higher Therapeutic Care) were adopted as babies? Careful the things you say...

·      Our narratives do affect us, but we need to get to really know them. We read past the cover. Growing up, in my life, several animals did not live past a few months. I still marvel that my dog has been with us for ten years. More than that, I have been with my husband for eleven years and I have gone to church for ten years. All of these things, to a kid who moved practically every year of her life, amongst other struggles, feel like they go against my narrative. It feels good, but in a way uncomfortable. The therapists working with my foster kids remind me that when the kids lash out, it is because our stable environment does not feel safe. Odd, right?

                        Into the woods,

                        It's always when

                        You think at last you're through, and then

                        Into the woods you go again

                        To take another journey.

As the story goes on, we find that these roles are much more than outer circumstances. Towards the end of the musical, the witch has become beautiful on the outside, but it still objectified for the ugliness that others have judged her to possess. She still does plenty of wrong, but after a round of everyone blaming each other for disaster, she interrupts the characters with this ugly truth: they have all caused the disaster. The other characters want to place a singular blame, and they do not want to hear this as she blatantly speaks the reality of the situation:

You're so nice.

You're not good,

You're not bad,

You're just nice.

I'm not good,

I'm not nice,

I'm just right.

I'm the Witch.

You're the world.

As Little Red Riding Hood states in an earlier part of the play, Nice is different than good. And so the Witch accepts the blame as the outsider of the group, regains her position, and in frustration (and humility?) takes back humps and claws, as the world rejects the truth of her speech. Have you felt this way? In the confusingly “tolerant” world of media, social and otherwise, we are labeling and pushing people into roles every day.

However, as complex creations of a giant God, we are not easily labeled. The Baker's wife exemplifies the internal, individualistic heart issue of their wishes. In one scene, she tackles Cinderella for her slipper, and then states she didn't tackle her, but she tackled Cinderella’s shoe. The focus of the wish has made everything else around the wish lack clarity. In the recent rupture of race talk of the last few years, my own identity has been messed with—as, over and over, I’ve heard, “You are white, you are white, you are white, white, white,” like a deafening Silly Song of Larry (Veggie Tales!) when he sings about his obsession over lips. If you listen to the song, you will see that Larry has reason to care about his lips; however, it has isolated and blinded him to only see the world in terms of lips!

Into the Woods does not resolve the way Disney has traditionally ended stories, wrapped up in pretty packages. Only when the characters realize the implications of their wishes, take responsibility for them, and move from their individualistic positions into community with each other are they able to defeat the Giant. It ends, at least through my lens of the world, like real life. 

Into the woods to find there's hope

  Of getting through the journey.

  Into the woods, each time you go,

  There's more to learn of what you know.

Maybe this is really why this is my favorite. With all the failures and character flaws, and evil being right and good being wrong, there is a glimmer of real hope. The Jesus Storybook Bible, touts that it “tells the one story underneath all the stories of the Bible and points to the birth of a child, the Rescuer, Jesus.” This is really the only narrative that we can lean on. We don't have to worry about narrators telling the story wrong; we know who is the author and creator. If we, as children of God, have the same author, the same narrator, and the same underlying storyline (think Westminster Catechism #: Man's chief end is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever), then we don't have to have any identity crises, and we can already celebrate how our beautifully complex, individual stories are being woven together as a community.

Philippians 2- Christ's Example of Humility 1 So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, 2 complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. 3 Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. 4 Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. 5 Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus,[a] 6 who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, 7 but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant,[b] being born in the likeness of men. 8 And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. 9 Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, 10 so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, 11 and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

Pastor V’s Shout-Outs by Vermon Pierre

Shout out to:

1. Tim Challies and his post, 8 Features of the Best Kind of Calvinism.

His post highlights what looks like a great booklet by Ian Hamilton. Hamilton makes the compelling point that Calvinism is “natively experiential.” If Calvinism doesn’t produce in us eager, passionate, affectional delight in God, then we haven’t gotten Calvinism right. I couldn’t agree more!

He also lists eight features of the experiential Calvinist:

·      The experiential Calvinist honors God’s unconditional sovereignty. 

·      The experiential Calvinist cherishes God’s grace.

·      The experiential Calvinist has a deep sense of the sinfulness of sin. 

·      The experiential Calvinist lives before God’s face. 

·      The experiential Calvinist shapes all of life by the revelation of God’s unimpeachable holiness.

·      The experiential Calvinist is content and satisfied with scriptural worship. 

·      The experiential Calvinist pursues godly catholicity. 

·      The experiential Calvinist cultivates communion with God. 

2. Russell Moore and his post, Kindness is not Weakness (which is adapted out of his new book, Onward: Engaging the Culture Without Losing the Gospel). Like Moore, I am a bit concerned how dehumanizing and unloving so much of the rhetoric coming from Christians is today. Yes, speak truth, but the Scriptures tell us how we should speak truth – namely, with love!

Here are a couple of good quotes from the post:

“Quarrelsomeness, the desire to fight for the sake of fighting, is a sign of pride. How often are our most bitter, sarcastic clashes with those who disagree with us less about persuading them and more about vindicating ourselves?”

“Listen to Christian media or attend a ‘faith and values’ rally, and you’ll hear plenty of warfare speech. Unlike past ‘crusades,’ however, such language is directed primarily at people perceived to be cultural and political enemies. If we are too afraid of seeming inordinately Pentecostal to talk about the Devil, we will find ourselves declaring war against mere concepts, like ‘evil’ or ‘sin.’ When we don’t oppose demons, we demonize opponents. And without a clear vision of the concrete forces we as the church are supposed to be aligned against, we find it very difficult to differentiate between enemy combatants and their hostages.”

“The Scriptures command us to be gentle and kind to unbelievers, not because we are not at war, but because we’re not at war with them (2 Tim. 2:26). When we see that we are warring against principalities and powers in the heavenly places, we can see that we’re not wrestling against flesh and blood (Eph. 6:12). The path to peace isn’t through bellicosity or surrender, but through fighting the right war (Rom. 16:20). We rage against the Reptile, not against his prey.”

“The gospel commands us to speak, and that speech is often forceful. But a prophetic witness in the new covenant era never stops with ‘You brood of vipers!’ It always continues on to say ‘Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.’”

 

3. Paul Miller and this diagram from his book, A Praying Life: Connecting with God in a Distracting World. The whole book is great. One of the best and most personally influential books on prayer I’ve ever read. But here, I'd like to highlight this great diagram he has in the book that strikes the right balance on how to be led by the Word and by the Spirit.

Easily Edified by Dennae Pierre

“A mature Christian is easily edified." I heard that phrase from a pastor a few weeks ago and it has been stuck in my mind. Our western culture is so dominated by consumerism and individualism, and this massively shows up in our weekend corporate worship. Consumerism surrounds us like a thick cloud and can easily taint the way we approach our services each weekend. 

Do we enter His gates to sing thanksgiving and praise? Or do we enter and evaluate how well we like the music, whether the sermon moved us enough, and/or if we connected with the people that we wanted to? It is easy, almost without even thinking, to move right into critique: What did we like? What didn't we like? What could we have done better?  All of this is rooted in the assumption that what we think, experience, and feel is what is most important. 

As Roosevelt is on the search for a worship leader, we don't know if our guest musicians are candidates for a position or just helping us out for a few weeks because they are friends of someone on our leadership team. This means, every week, there is this tendency to enter our music with our critiquing eyes on. But at the end of the day, we only have fifty-two days this year that we get to gather with our family, be taught corporately, and sing words that remind us of Jesus’s love. Are there weeks where the music is.... difficult on our ears? Does our preacher kill it with every illustration? Are our graphics always top-of-the-line? 

No. I can say that our leadership is constantly striving to do the best they can with the resources we have. We seek excellence, but not to appease ourselves or make life more comfortable. We seek excellence as part of our worship: we want our music, preaching, liturgy, visuals to be done to the best of our ability because we love Jesus and want to give Him the best that we have. So what is our role, if we are members and participating in our corporate worship service? 

Our role is to come, commune with our family, enjoy the unique things that make our family quirky, pray for the Lord to continue to tune our ears, eyes, and hearts to Him, and not allow consumerism to cloud our vision. Things will be off; we will always need to improve, but mature Christians are easily edified. We delight in simple phrases. We allow our hearts to be stirred by glimmers of beauty. We show up to serve our family, to delight in fellowship with our brothers and sisters, to actively welcome guests to our family gathering, to thank the Lord corporately for the unique tapestry of lives He has woven together at Roosevelt Community Church and to actively pray that He would make us more pure, more loving, and a more faithful church—a  church that is ravished by God's unending love and actively participating in the great work He has called us to.