Tag Archives: Identity

Jesus with the Pastor: What God Does with Our Dirt

When I was in seminary, I often traveled long distances by bus. Greyhound used to have a $59 ticket to anywhere in North America. The price fit my budget and the timing fit my personality. I didn’t mind a long bus ride when I had a handful of books and a day and a half to dig in. But I had to be very careful because sometimes people would get on the bus hoping to make a best friend before the next stop. Not me. I just wanted to read my books and enjoy some solitude. I discovered a trick to keep the seat next to me open. While bus-travel is best done lightly, one item I always brought with me: my pillow. Have you ever seen an old pillow outside its case? It can be a bit off-putting. Snuggling up to my uncased pillow often kept the seat next to me open. Why? Because nobody wants to sit next to a dirty pillow. We don’t like being next to dirt…at all!

Think for a moment about all the phrases that use the word “dirt” or an equivalent. Heard of a dirty movie? Given a dirty look? Did you used to have a potty mouth or been forced to do the dirty work? You might hope to become filthy rich, but you don’t want someone to dig up the dirt on you. Why? Because we hide our dirt; we clean up our minds and hearts and language. We not only put covers on some pillows to hide their dirt; we cover our souls. We worry that some parts of our past might never come clean.

Psychologist Alfred Adler said that dirt keeps people away from us. But “dirt” doesn’t just keep other people away; it seems to create a separation from God. Uncleanness was a way of describing people’s defilement before God, so the Old Testament has specific ways of helping people become ritually clean. Leviticus 12-15 describes ways of becoming clean because of impurity coming from blood, skin diseases, and other bodily fluids. Leviticus 16 describes the Day of Atonement—when uncleanness and rebellion is gathered together and cleansed. Both the Israelites and the Tabernacle (Tent of Meeting) are cleansed to be in God’s presence. This combination of uncleanness and sin comes through the prophet Isaiah, as well, who said that he was a man of unclean lips and came from a people of unclean lips (Isaiah 6:5).

Now, why this lengthy discussion about dirt? Because it gives us depth to understanding what Jesus does in John 13:1-17, the last supper. Back in John 1, John said that the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us (1:14). The noun of this verb “to dwell” is the same word that the Septuagint (the Old Testament translated from Hebrew to Greek) uses for tent or Tabernacle (Tent of Meeting). Before the temple was built, the Tabernacle was the place where God would meet with his people. It was a portable location for the presence of God while the Israelites were wandering in the wilderness after leaving Egypt. In John 1:14, John is saying that the enfleshed Word is the Tabernacle, the presence of God. Of course, in John 2, Jesus says that his body is the temple that will be raised after three days. Now notice what is happening here: rather than the disciples getting cleansed to come into Jesus’ presence, the tabernacling presence/temple of God is washing the disciples. We are not cleansed before we come into the presence of God; God in Christ comes to cleanse us! How amazing, then, are the words of Jesus, “And you are clean” (v. 10)!

But this is a specific type of cleaning. Notice the posture Jesus takes: After supper, Jesus took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. The Greek word for “took off” can also be translated “laid aside” or “laid down”—exactly what Jesus said he will do with his life for the sheep (10:15). Further, wrapping a towel around his waist was taking the posture of a slave and washing feet was doing the work of a slave. Jesus maintains this posture into the next day because that’s when Jesus dies a slave’s death on the cross. In this death, God hands down the sentence for uncleanness, but also takes the sentence on himself. Or, as Isaiah says it, “By his wounds we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5). Jesus dies a slave’s death and the result is that he cleanses us from all unrighteousness (1 John 1:9). Jesus lays aside his clothes to take up the towel to wash his disciples’ feet and he keeps the slave’s towel to lay aside his life to wash our whole persons.

The enemy may remind you of your dirt—the stuff you want to keep hidden. But we must pay close attention to the tabernacling presence of God, the Word made flesh, the one whose body is the temple. He has come not to remind us of our dirt, but to make us clean! And by virtue of his sacrificial death, Jesus says to us, “You are clean!”

To read more on the presence of Jesus with the pastor, see Dr. Aaron Perry’s new book out now: Kairos Care: A Process for Pastoral Counseling in the Office and in Everyday Experiences (Abingdon Press). For a sample chapter, click “Take a Look Inside” at https://www.cokesbury.com/Kairos-Care

Featured image courtesy Sandie Clarke on Unsplash.

Why Did the Women Disciple the Men?

Back when it was “a different time” – in this case, just 1992 – the pastor warmed up our mens’ Bible study with, “Why did the woman cross the road…What’s she doing out of the kitchen in the first place?” Before the chuckling died down, he continued his opening act: “How do you fix a broken dishwasher…Kick her in the butt.”

Twenty-five years later, my oldest of three daughters says, “Daddy, when I grow up, I want to be a boy.” She’s helping me set up the Communion table for worship in an hour, because the advantage of being a pastor with three daughters is every Sunday is “take your daughter to work day.”

“Why?” I ask, unprepared for this conversation when my brain is tangled with mic cables and my upcoming sermon.

“So I can be a pastor like you,” she says, pouring Welch’s grape juice into a chalice.

I wince. “Who says you can’t be a pastor when you grow up?” Answer her question with a question. Make her think about it, I tell myself.

“Because aren’t all the preachers in the Bible men?” she says.

It’s the season of Advent, so we talk about Mary, the mother of Jesus. About how she’s the first disciple, because she was the first to lay down her life for Jesus. And how before she delivered the baby, she delivered the first sermon in the New Testament:

“Oh, how my soul praises the Lord.

How my spirit rejoices in God my Savior!

For he took notice of his lowly servant girl,

and from now on all generations will call me blessed.

For the Mighty One is holy,

and he has done great things for me.” (Luke 1:46-49)

We don’t often look to Mary as disciple or preacher. We take our cues from Moses, David, Peter, Paul; we only look at Mary once a year at Christmas, and even then to reduce her and her womb to a utilitarian role.

Opening Scripture, my daughters find a world where prophets and leaders from the home to the throne were determined by bloodline, gender, and birth-order (a.k.a. the firstborn male of the right tribe). All because of the dreaded word, patriarchy: when women were property of their fathers and dowry-ed off to be the property of their husbands, their children and legal rights belonged to him. He could divorce her with a word, so she kept her head covered and mouth shut.

But – in those same Scriptures, my daughters read stories of women encountering God and leading God’s people. Like Hagar, the slave woman whose womb was also reduced to a utilitarian role. She is the only person in the Old Testament to directly give God a name, and she names him, “The God Who Sees Me.”

Or Deborah. When Israel was under oppression because of their corruption and dysfunction, they cried out to God for help. God gave them a woman. Before they had kings, Israel was led by judges known for either their legal or military leadership. Deborah was a prophet who happened to be a judge, and she had both – so much so that when Barak, the leader of the Israelite militia, was sent into battle, he said, “I will go, but only if you go with me.”

And Ruth, who is described by the Hebrew word meaning “warrior.” Oh, and she was an illegal immigrant who saved Bethlehem with integrity and courage. Or Esther, who did the unthinkable and went public before the king, saving her people not with looks, but devotion to God.

How about Elizabeth, Mary’s cousin and the first human to prophecy the coming of Jesus while her husband doubted, and so an angel shut him up. Or the five-time divorced Samaritan Woman, who encountered Jesus at the well. She went back to testify and lead others to him, and a lot of folks in her village were saved.

And my favorite, Mary and the other Mary. Just as two women were the first to preach about Jesus’ birth, these two women were the first to preach about his resurrection. They went to the tomb while the men were scattered.

Daughter, look at these women who, like Moses, David, Peter, and Paul, are used by God to preach the good news and disciple your dad. And not just in the Bible.

My grandmother, who when I asked why some of the words in the Bible were in red, took that Bible and told me who Jesus was; Cindy, the pastor who led my confirmation class; Jeanine, a mother who called me out on some sin my freshman year of college and set some boundaries; Peg, who led me through inner healing and warned me numerous times of hang-ups in my life; Jo Anne, who’s preaching challenged me to not compromise the call on my life; Miriam, who’s preaching taught me what holiness really is and how to pursue it; Amanda, my co-pastor in college ministry who called out my weak points in ministry and stood up to fraternity boys dehumanizing women.

Most importantly, there’s Jennifer, my wife and our kids’ mother. She’s in the garage using her tools and air compressor to repair a car engine or refinish furniture while I’m cooking dinner or cleaning the toilet. But she also leads our house, makes the rules, and assigns the tasks. We both do, and so in our mutuality I can be led and submit to her because we submit to each other.

Daughter, someday you can preach and disciple me too.. You already are.

So I stand my daughter in the pulpit, where she is pretending to preach like her dad, and tell her about Peter’s sermon on Pentecost when he drops the words of the prophet Joel: “‘In the last days,’ God says, ‘I will pour out my Spirit upon all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy…’” (Acts 2:17)

Did you catch that, daughter?

Prophets are the preachers who declare, “This is what the Lord says.” And now the prophets are your sons and daughters, no longer determined by bloodline, gender, and birth-order. There is only one manner of leadership in the church, and it isn’t gender or even credentials. The qualifications are to be called by God, anointed by Jesus, and filled with the power of the Holy Spirit

This is no joke, but the story of good news for women. And as Dr. Sandy Richter, the woman pastor-professor who taught me reminds us: we need to tell that story, and tell it well.

Featured image courtesy Joshua Hanson via Unsplash.

Strength in Ephesians: The Body, the Armor, the Power

If you’ve been part of a marching band, you know how intricate the planning is for halftime. I spent the last 16 years in Ohio, where it’s impossible not to hear regularly about Ohio State University. Renowned for its sports teams, OSU is also known for its marching band and its creative halftime shows. One halftime show particularly caught my eye: a tribute to Michael Jackson, in which the band took his shape and proceeded to moonwalk across the field. It was amazing! In a marching band, one individual part may look like random steps, but when put together with all the other parts, the band works together to create an amazing picture. And as the apostle Paul finishes his letter to the Ephesians, he acts like a marching band director choreographing the halftime show. He gives instructions to the Church so that it can faithfully stand as a beacon of peace and righteousness. Today, we’re looking at three things that are necessary to remain standing after all is said and done: The body. The armor. The power.

Let’s read from Ephesians 6:10-20 (CEB):

“Finally, be strengthened by the Lord and his powerful strength. Put on God’s armor so that you can make a stand against the tricks of the devil. We aren’t fighting against human enemies but against rulers, authorities, forces of cosmic darkness, and spiritual powers of evil in the heavens. Therefore, pick up the full armor of God so that you can stand your ground on the evil day and after you have done everything possible to still stand. So stand with the belt of truth around your waist, justice as your breastplate, and put shoes on your feet so that you are ready to spread the good news of peace. Above all, carry the shield of faith so that you can extinguish the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is God’s word.

Offer prayers and petitions in the Spirit all the time. Stay alert by hanging in there and praying for all believers. As for me, pray that when I open my mouth, I’ll get a message that confidently makes this secret plan of the gospel known. I’m an ambassador in chains for the sake of the gospel. Pray so that the Lord will give me the confidence to say what I have to say.”

Before we get into specifics, let’s look at the overall context of Paul’s letter: Paul writes this to remind the Ephesians of their identity in Christ, their unity as the body of believers—regardless of ethnic or other differences—and to encourage them to live in a way that honors God. The content of the book is split in half: the first three chapters explore the blessings of our life in Christ and how we have been saved by grace through faith; the last three chapters describe how we live as a result of our new life in Christ. After all, when something amazing happens in your life, you live differently.

Before jumping to Ephesians 6, let’s recognize an important aspect of this letter. We often read letters like this, hear the author say “you,” and assume it refers to me as an individual. While it’s true that as an individual believer, I need to follow Scripture, this is not Paul’s primary emphasis. Most of the time, Paul uses the plural form of “you” (“all y’all,” as we say in Kentucky) to address the Ephesians. In other words, these are commands for the church as a whole. God is calling the church to work together and help one another to live faithfully as believers.

As we venture into 6:10, Paul begins to wrap up. He urges the Ephesians to be strong in the Lord’s great strength. This is not a new theme in the book. Paul goes full circle—in 1:19, Paul told the Ephesians that he prays they may know “the immeasurable greatness of [God’s] power for us who believe, according to the working of his great power.” This is an important reminder—especially for the discussion about evil powers that comes next. We do not rely on our own strength.

Having the correct source of power is incredibly important: If you have a fancy sports car, you’re going to use the best gasoline available. You can’t just pour water in the tank. And if we’re going to have strength for the battle ahead, we have to rely on the right source of power: God’s power, not our own. Paul is emphatic about this: he repeats the idea of strength three times in a single verse: literally, “strengthen yourselves in the power of his strength.” We need God’s power, not our own, because the battle ahead is a difficult one.

In verses 11-12, Paul calls believers to put on the armor of God, because it is the only way to withstand the evil day. He makes it very clear that we are not simply battling everyday circumstances and temptations; rather, powerful forces exist that in the world that make every effort to derail our walk with God.Paul describes them as rulers, authorities (not government authorities!), cosmic powers, and spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. There is a spiritual realm populated by hostile forces that are in opposition to the work of God. Paul’s point here is not to catalog the various kinds of demonic forces. Rather, he emphasizes the spiritual component to the struggles we face.

Yet Paul notes that these spiritual powers are in “the heavenly places.” The Ephesians who have read this letter will recall:

1:3: We have been blessed in Christ “with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places.”

1:20-21: Christ sits at the right hand of God in the heavenly places “far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the age to come.”

2:6: We are seated with Christ in the heavenly places.

3:10: The plan of the mystery of God has been revealed so that through the Church the wisdom of God will be made known to the authorities in the heavenly places.

Paul is urging us to be prepared to fight these forces but not to be afraid. Everything Paul has written to this point in the letter reminds us that Christ’s power is far greater than their power, and we who believe are seated with Christ, far above these lesser powers! Our transformed lives and unity in the body of Christ serve as testimonies to these spiritual beings, that God already has won the victory through Christ.

After digressing to point out who we are fighting (and the ultimate defeat of these spiritual forces), in verses 13-17 Paul returns to call the Ephesians to put on the whole armor of God. Traditionally, these next few verses are read as a call to the individual believer to put on the armor of God, but Paul already told us earlier in the letter who is the body that wears the armor: “And [God] put all things under [Christ’s] feet and gave him as head over all things to the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all” (Ephesians 1:22-23).

This armor is effective when the whole body takes it up—there is a communal sense. We are not meant to be solitary individuals bearing the armor of God; rather, we are meant to help one another to bear the armor. Like the OSU marching band, in which individuals walk a path laid out for them and together make a unified whole, we who believe work together to provide a unified vision of the life in Christ.

What is this armor? Paul uses military imagery to illustrate preparing for battle, and yet the armor described is used mostly for defense. It is the devil who wages war on us, and our job is to stand our ground, stand firm, and remain standing. We’ve had a lot of hurricanes this season, and I’m always amazed at the weather reporters who stand out in the middle of the storm: they have a job to do and they find a way to stand firm in 70 mile an hour winds.

That’s our job as believers: we don’t go out looking for the battle; we know it will come to us. But New Testament scholar Andrew Lincoln reminds us: “The decisive victory has already been won by God in Christ, and the task of believers is not to win but to stand, that is, to preserve and maintain what has been won.”

Yet we won’t always face a hurricane. Scripture refers to the “schemes” of the devil. Sometimes attacks are powerful because they are subtle, taking us by surprise. Rather than a hurricane, we face a creeping mist that slowly blinds us, leaving us groping in the fog. Whether we face an onslaught of terrible life circumstances or creeping doubt, we have to be prepared to stand firm.

The first two pieces of armor that help us to stand firm are the belt of truth and the breastplate of justice (also translated righteousness). In terms of Roman armor, which is what Paul’s readers would picture, the belt is likely a reference to the leather aprons worn under the armor. This allowed freedom of movement while protecting the thighs. The metal breastplate protects a soldier’s vital organs, such as heart and lungs. When Paul refers to the belt of truth, “truth” has the sense of faithfulness and loyalty to God, and the breastplate of justice (or righteousness) has the nuance of doing what is just or right. We may think of being righteous, but the terminology refers to an action!

Paul does not pull this imagery out of thin air; these pieces of armor are mentioned by the prophet Isaiah. In one case, a messianic figure brings righteousness and faithfulness to those who suffer, particularly the poor (Isa. 11:4-5). In another case, God is offended at the lack of justice in the land, so God himself brings righteousness and justice to the people (Isa 59:15-17). Paul uses this imagery to describe how the church, the body of Christ (you and me!) must wear that same armor in order to fight its battles. The warrior God is a God who cares about righteousness in the land—justice for the poor and oppressed. When we wear God’s armor, we are to demonstrate God’s justice and righteousness.

Paul already said this in a different way in Ephesians 4:24 when he called them, “to clothe yourselves with the new self, created according to the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness.” Here in our worship space we see the phrase “holiness to the Lord” displayed prominently. It reminds us that we are called to be people set apart for the Lord; we imitate Christ and offer every aspect of our lives to the Lord. We seek holiness in our own lives, and we work in the midst of culture to transform the injustices that we witness around us.

Connected to this righteousness is the imagery of shoes that prepare one to proclaim the Gospel of peace. Paul already wrote about the Gospel that brings peace, declaring in 2:14-16 that Christ is our peace, who destroyed the wall of hostility—the ethnic rivalry—between Jew and Gentile, making all believers one in Christ. And Isaiah connects righteousness with peace in 32:17:

“And the effect of righteousness will be peace, and the result of righteousness, quietness and trust forever.”

When Christians are faithful to God, when we live rightly—in a way that brings about justice to the community—this brings peace. It is common to hear protestors chanting, “No justice, no peace.” This was not an idea created in the 1960s; these protestors cite a biblical theme. It is only when justice pervades the land that peace will exist among us. We must work for justice for those who have been wronged—whether demanding justice for Breonna Taylor, providing aid to the poor in our community who have been overlooked, arguing for the rights of those with disabilities, or protecting others in society.

Next, Paul calls believers to take up the shield of faith to extinguish the flaming arrows of the evil one. Roman shields measured about 4’ x 2-1/2’ and were made from wood covered in leather. Paul identifies the shield for Christians as faith. When we trust the message of the Gospel, when we believe that Christ died for our sins, when we know that the Holy Spirit is transforming our lives, then these beliefs extinguish the lies of the devil, when he tries to tell us we’re not worthy, we’re irredeemable, we can never change.

But there’s more to this imagery than standing firm in our faith! Roman soldiers worked together in formation. They brought their shields together in battle so that they could protect one another from literal flaming arrows. This testudo formation (“tortoise” in Latin) created a shield wall—soldiers in the front line held their shields forward; those in the middle held the shields overhead, and those on the sides protected from the sides. Soldiers were far better protected when they worked together.

This underscores the “all y’all” language. Paul encourages us to work together as the body of Christ. It’s the body of Christ together that wears the armor. John Wesley proclaimed that he knew no holiness but social holiness—by which he meant that the body of Christ works together to strengthen each other.

We cannot stand alone in this battle to keep our faith alive and vital. If you help me to strengthen my faith, and I help you to strengthen your faith, then together we are better prepared to withstand the flaming arrows of the devil. We need each other. We are stronger when we are unified.

But our armor is not yet complete. Paul keeps telling us we need the whole armor of God, and armor is incomplete without a helmet and a sword. For the believer, this is the helmet of salvation. Protection comes from knowing that Christ has already won the battle on our behalf. The only offensive weapon for the soldier is the sword of the Spirit, the word of God. The term for sword refers to a short sword (about two feet long) that soldiers used for combat in close quarters, where fighting was particularly brutal. The Spirit is the power that makes the sword effective. The “word of God” refers to the gospel message of Christ, laid out for us in Scripture. This sword makes sense as a weapon: when the devil attacks, scheming and lying, the believer’s best counterattack is claiming the truths of the Gospel found in Scripture. Paul gives plenty of these throughout Ephesians:

God chose us in Christ (1:4)!
God destined us to become adopted as his children (1:5)!
We have redemption through the blood of Christ (1:7)!
God loves us (2:4)!
God saved us (2:5)!
God created us for good works (2:10)!
God has reconciled us to one another (2:16)!
We have access to the Father through the Spirit (2:18)!
We are being built into a dwelling place for God (2:22)!

And that’s just the first two chapters. We need to be immersed in the truth of the love of God so that we can stand firm. But Paul is not done yet. Although his armor language ends with the sword of the Spirit, he urges believers to cover the battle in prayer. He started with the command to be strong in the Lord and the strength of his might. But how do we find strength in the Lord? We connect to God, submitting ourselves to God’s will, through prayer.

Paul refers to the kind of prayer in which we talk to God and listen to God throughout the day. The way that we keep alert in battle is to be in prayer regularly. This is how we stand firm in the power of God’s mighty strength.

Just like our armor must be worn together, our prayers are offered for each other. Paul begins his letter by praying for the Ephesians, and he ends by asking the Ephesians to pray for all the saints, including Paul himself, who is under arrest for preaching the Gospel. The body that wears God’s armor finds its strength only when it is connected to God whose mighty strength has made the victory possible.

Paul concludes by urging the Ephesians to stand strong. He gives us three keys to remain standing: The body. The armor. The power.

Without the body working together to strengthen each other, gaps in the armor appear; flaming arrows slip through, wreaking havoc. This Christian walk was never meant to be solitary. We encourage each other, building each other up. When you join a church, you learn from small children, middle-aged parents, and elderly saints. You get to speak into their lives and encourage their walk with Christ. Becoming part of committed discipleship groups helps us grow in the faith. John Wesley’s vision of banded discipleship groups recognizes the importance of the body strengthening each other.

To stand strong, we need (say it with me!) the body, the armor, and the power. Without the armor of truth, justice, peace, faith, salvation, and the Spirit-empowered Gospel message, we are susceptible to the lies of the devil, who tells us we’re not loved, we have no value, we have no future. When we live faithfully in God’s truth, when we trust the love of Christ and devote our lives to him, we find that God’s armor holds fast. In wearing God’s armor, we pursue justice in an unjust world, we love and care for the humanity that God fought so hard to save, and we bring light to dark places.

To stand strong, we need the body, the armor, and the power. Without the power of God’s mighty strength, none of us will be able to stand in the evil day. It’s that simple. None of this happens on our own. Regular prayer, individually and together as the body of Christ, connects us to God, whose power is more than enough for the battle we face. Together as the body of Christ, we must seek God’s power to transform the world. To withstand the evil day and to remain standing, we need the body, the armor, and the power. This is Paul’s call to the Ephesians, and it’s God’s call to us today.

Michelle Bauer ~ Rewriting a Story Gone Wrong

The story of Ruth and Boaz in the Old Testament starts with a tragedy – actually, a series of tragedies. Ruth’s life is not living up to her expectations. She is a childless widow, living in a foreign land, dependent on the favor of strangers. Enter the Redeemer – the one who can rewrite the ending of a story gone wrong, buying back tragedy and making way for restoration.

To redeem means to buy back, to free from distress, or to make something worthwhile. Boaz enters the story and works to buy back Ruth’s suffering and pain. He offers care and protection to Ruth. Hopefully, his character might remind you of someone else – Jesus’ protecting, providing, loving, and redeeming.

Do you have an ending that needs to be re-written? A story of suffering that needs to be redeemed?

Let’s look at an excerpt from Ruth 1:

There was a famine in the land. So a man from Bethlehem in Judah, together with his wife and two sons, went to live for a while in the country of Moab. The man’s name was Elimelek, his wife’s name was Naomi, and the names of his two sons were Mahlon and Kilion. And they went to Moab and lived there.

Now Naomi’s husband died, and she was left with her two sons. They married Moabite women, one named Orpah and the other Ruth. After they had lived there about ten years, both sons also died, and Naomi was left without her two sons and her husband.

When Naomi heard in Moab that the Lord had come to the aid of his people by providing food for them, she and her daughters-in-law prepared to return home from there. Then Naomi said to her two daughters-in-law, “Go back, each of you, to your mother’s home. May the Lord show you kindness, as you have shown kindness to your dead husbands and to me. May the Lord grant that each of you will find rest in the home of another husband.”

Then she kissed them goodbye and they wept aloudand said to her, “We will go back with you to your people.”

But Naomi said, “Return home, my daughters. Why would you come with me? Am I going to have any more sons, who could become your husbands? Return home, my daughters. No, my daughters. It is more bitter for me than for you, because the Lord’s hand has turned against me!” At this they wept aloud again. Then Orpah kissed her mother-in-law goodbye, but Ruth clung to her.

“Look,” said Naomi, “your sister-in-law is going back to her people and her gods. Go back with her.” But Ruth replied, “Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried. May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so severely, if even death separates you and me.”When Naomi realized that Ruth was determined to go with her, she stopped urging her.

So the two women came to Bethlehem. When they arrived in Bethlehem, the whole town was stirred because of them, and the women exclaimed, “Can this be Naomi?”

“Don’t call me Naomi,” she told them. “Call me Mara, because the Almightyhas made my life very bitter.I went away full, but the Lord has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi? The Lord has afflictedme; the Almighty has brought misfortune upon me.”

So Naomi returned from Moab accompanied by Ruth the Moabite, her daughter-in-law, arriving in Bethlehem as the barley harvest was beginning.

In what ways did Ruth and Naomi suffer? They were widows in a patriarchal society, in which the livelihood of women depended on fathers, husbands, or sons.

Do you have a story of suffering, too? Which pieces of your story have you come to terms with, and which pieces seem to defy meaning or purpose? What might it look like for God to buy back your story when your life doesn’t seem to have hope?

Why do you think Ruth was determined to go to Bethlehem with Naomi? What things did Ruth choose to leave behind? Have you had to leave anything behind in order to pursue a new chapter of your life? Is there anything you need to set aside but are unwilling to? Talk to God about how to let go.

Naomi stated that God caused her pain. How do you approach suffering? How does it affect your idea of God?

The beginning of the barley harvest seems to be a symbol of hope in this chapter of the story. With all that you may have endured, what signs of hope are you able to see in your story?

Naomi and Ruth may have been tempted to think that their story was over – that nothing good could come from it. We have the perspective to know that their story was far from over. God was about to write a totally new, beautiful chapter.

Can you envision your story being rewritten partway through? How does the experience of suffering make it difficult to hope for a good future? What has gone wrong for you? Are you ready to ask today how your story can still get a new ending?

Edgar Bazan ~ On Being Hispanic

As a Mexican, I did not know I was a Hispanic, too. The term “Hispanic” refers to people from Spanish-speaking countries and, in the United States, it is a technical demographic label or distinction used to identify people from a Spanish-speaking origin. Since in Mexico the primary language is Spanish, the term “Hispanic” is not commonly used to identify Spanish-speaking people: there is no need for it! So I often say that I was not born Hispanic but Mexican.

It wasn’t until I came to the U.S. as an immigrant that I was given this label or identity of being a Hispanic. At first, I did not think much of it since it was the norm, but after a few years, I learned the richness of the Hispanic culture in the U.S., and not just Mexican but representing all the Spanish-speaking countries in the world. I learned some of the negative implications that come from having the label too.

Regarding the richness of being Hispanic, I was gifted with being a part of a diverse demographic group of people in which we share food, music, and traditions. For example, my diet was expanded from tacos to pupusas to arroz con gandules. One of the perks of serving as a pastor in the Hispanic context is absolutely the food! In this way, by being Hispanic, I get to share my Mexican heritage with others as much as I am enriched by the heritage of those from other countries of origin.

However, not everything is positive. One of the greatest challenges for immigrants is to learn a new identity, to adapt, and to fit into the new culture, language, and social expectations of their new homeland. This is a hard practice that has mental, emotional, and spiritual implications for the individual. For example, immigrant people may feel of lesser worth or with lower capacities to perform in life because of their skin color or accent. This self-perception of inadequacy is primarily caused by the way they are treated, perceived, or seen by U.S. natives. These dynamics lead people to become isolated and limited in their opportunities to prosper (not just financially but culturally, intellectually, socially).

Of course, not all Hispanics are immigrants, but many like myself are. I came from Mexico in 2004 to Dallas to do Spanish ministry in primarily English-speaking congregations. One of the first experiences I had was when I learned I was a Hispanic. I did not think much of it, nor did it bother me until I learned the implicit biases against being a Hispanic pastor. For example, people would typically assume that I was the associate Hispanic pastor for the Hispanic people, as opposed to being the pastor of all the people.

In ministry, this presents challenges and opportunities to encourage and walk alongside Hispanic immigrants so they can live in their giftedness, empowered to celebrate who they are rather than having to come “through the back door” to church or to apologize for who they are. This biased mentality is a tragedy on many levels; for example, it teaches Hispanic children that they belong “over there, on the side, with your people.” As a pastor, I often find myself encouraging people, particularly the young ones, to believe in themselves and open their minds to the vast opportunities before them, and not to reduce their identity to the biases others may have about them but rather to proudly celebrate their heritage.

Being Hispanic often means having to navigate at least two different cultures and languages and making twice the effort to level the playing field. Edward James Olmos describes this in the movie Selena: “We have to be more American than the Americans and more Mexican than the Mexicans. It’s twice as exhausting!”

Being in ministry in a Hispanic context is both enriching and challenging. We are people of tasty food and many colors, of lively music and infectious rhythms, we love deeply and sacrifice everything for our families—including leaving our homelands to provide for our loved ones. As Hispanics, we celebrate the rich heritage we contribute to each other and to the larger community.

Interview: Mary DeMuth Talks “We Too” with Carrie Carter

Author and church planter Mary DeMuth has been featured on CNN and in The Washington Post.

Note from the Editor: Wesleyan Accent writer Carrie Carter recently interviewed author and church leader Mary DeMuth about her new book on sexual abuse and the church, We Too: How the Church Can Respond Redemptively to the Sexual Abuse Crisis. DeMuth’s tradition is not alone as American Protestant church life has been rocked by the faith community’s own #metoo moment, #churchtoo. From megachurches to historic denominations, the ripple effect of revelation has been far-reaching. Wesleyan Accent extends gratitude to clergy spouse Carrie Carter for shining the spotlight on this new resource.

Warning: This interview includes references to sexual abuse that some may find a trigger of traumatic response.

I grew up in a faith community where abuse was not spoken of, where sex was a taboo topic in any context. So as one can imagine, my understanding of sexual abuse was quite simplistic well into adulthood. How could a man or woman of God do such horrific things? I confess that it was easy to feel smug when scandal rocked the Roman Catholic Church, because somehow I felt like Protestants were different.

They’re not. At all. How arrogant of me to think so.

It took a little longer for the corner of that rug to be lifted, but all that filth is the same. Sexual abuse is a darkness that has pervaded the Church for centuries. No branch of faith is above another when it comes to the pervasiveness of sin. The flames of sexual abuse have scarred people I love. People who trusted and were burned.

For this reason I jumped at the chance to review We Too: How the Church Can Respond Redemptively to the Sexual Abuse Crisis. We Too is now available for purchase, and it was written to help those in ministry leadership to understand the far-reaching effects of sexual abuse and how to support to those on the healing journey. It was truly an honor to interact with Mary and to hear her thoughts on a topic so vital for our ministry leaders right now.

CARRIE CARTER: For those who might not be familiar with you, tell us a little bit about your story.

MARY DEMUTH: I am a sexual abuse survivor. When I was five years old, neighborhood teens repeatedly raped me over the course of my kindergarten year. My father was a predatory man as well. And I found myself during a lot of my childhood being approached by predators. I spent a lot of time running away from those who wanted to steal from me. I met Jesus when I was fifteen through the ministry of Young Life. I have been on a decades-long healing journey since then.

CC: Was We Too: How the Church Can Respond Redemptively to the Sexual Abuse Crisis written as a response to the recent issues that have been exposed to light in the evangelical world, or was it a work that was already in process?

MD: In some ways it’s been in process for decades. I have been speaking about this issue a very long time, but it has finally gotten teeth because of the evangelical scandals of late. I am grateful that Harvest House Publishers took a huge risk in publishing this book.

CC: Was there anything during the research and writing of We Too that you didn’t already know? If so, what impact did this new knowledge have on you?

MD: I’ve been seeped in this for decades. But I was particularly surprised at the numbers outside the United States. In other cultures, the numbers are significantly higher percentages of women and children being exploited. Consider this: “Some 35% of women globally have experienced some form of sexual violence, though because of the nature of secrets, this number is most likely underreported. For some countries, the statistics are even more shocking: 57% of Bangladesh women, 77% of Cambodian women, 79% of Indian women, and 87% of Vietnamese women and 99% of Egyptian women have experienced some form of sexual harassment. Remember, harassment is not the same as sexual violence. Harassment involves innuendo, inappropriate comments, and unwanted sexual solicitation. 120 million girls globally have experienced forced sex. 750 million girls will be married before their eighteenth birthday.[1]” (Excerpt)

CC: What was the most difficult section of We Too to write? What made it difficult for you?

MD: Recounting the first story in the book where I was abused by a doctor, and then telling the story at the end of the book of when I returned to the scene of the crimes [that occurred] when I was a five year old. There are so many fears in making those stories public, and the shame still looms.

“We all know someone affected by sexual abuse. Sadly, the secular media has shown more compassion than the church toward sexual abuse survivors. There is a holy reckoning unfolding before us in the church. People are fed up with secrecy, covering up, and the sheer proliferation of abuse—both inside and outside the church. It’s time for the church to become what it should be: a place of security, not shame; humility, not pride. By standing with survivors of sexual abuse, we can build a community of kindness and restoration—a place where God’s people are healed and made whole.”
Excerpt, We Too

CC: As the spouse of a ministry leader, I received no training on practical ministry, let alone how to minister effectively to sexual abuse survivors. What do you feel is the most important thing for us, as ministry spouses, to know?

MD: That, most likely, everyone you minister to is affected by this issue. It either happened to them, or they love someone who has had this story. The best thing you can do is err on the side of belief, listen, weep alongside, and pray. If there is an outcry from a minor, you must report this to the authorities. Instead of viewing sexual abuse survivors as drains on your energy, look at them as tutors to teach you what it means to turn to Jesus and lean on him for sustenance and strength. They have SO MUCH to teach us about discipleship.

CC: After reading We Too, I feel it is going to be a vital tool that needs to be on the shelf of every ministry leader’s library. Have you written any supplemental material or do you have recommendations for other resources to help navigate this crisis?

MD: I am in the process of writing a video study and guide. Two other great resources: The Child Safeguarding Policy for Churches and Ministries by Boz Tchividjian and churchcares.com.

CC: For churches that are ready to put protocols in place for the protection of children, is there an organization that you recommend for assistance with those protocols?

MD: Yes, netgrace.org. I also have an extensive list of resources for pastors and ministry leaders here: wetoo.org/pastors

To read DeMuth’s “8 Reasons Why the Church Doesn’t Like to Discuss Sexual Abuse,” click here.

[1] Meera Senthilingam, “Sexual harassment: How it stands around the globe,” CNN, 29 Nov 2018, https://www.cnn.com/2017/11/25/health/sexual-harassment-violence-abuse-global-levels/index.html

Andy Stoddard ~ The Gift of Brokenness

I’m a pretty happy and optimistic guy. I tend to believe the best of other people, and by and large, I expect things to work out alright. I take Romans 8:28 literally and seriously – God will somehow work out things for good.

I tend to be an optimistic and grace-full preacher. I believe in hell, but I’m not a hellfire preacher. I tend to think that grace is a greater motivator to faithfulness than fear is. I have always taken Paul’s words in Romans 2:4 to heart with my preaching: “Or do you despise the riches of his kindness and forbearance and patience? Do you not realize that God’s kindness is meant to lead you to repentance?” I like to leave people with a pep in their step on Sunday morning. I like to leave them with grace on their lips. I want them to enter into the world hopeful, peaceful, and more focused on Jesus than on their sin.

Except for Lent.

In Lent, yes, we need to know that we are loved. But there is something else we need to know. We need to know this – we are sinful. We are broken. We are fallen. We are ashes, and to ashes we will return.

We can’t run from this. No matter how powerful, wealthy, famous, or holy we are, we are ashes. No matter how great of an influencer on social media we are, we are ashes. No matter how big a church we are part of, we are ashes. We are ashes. We are broken. We are sinful.

And you know what?

This realization of brokenness is one of the greatest gifts we can ever receive. Lent is a powerful and beautiful reminder of the gift of that realization. Once we receive this gift, we can truly live. This realization gives us several life-changing truths.

First, brokenness is equality. We are all the sons and daughters of Adam and Eve. We all inherit original sin. In our age, we like to talk more about “sins” than our “sinful nature.” Sins are things we do (what I jokingly call smoking, drinking, and cussing). In our minds, there is always someone worse than us. Yeah, we’ve messed up, but look at them. They are much worse than we can ever be.

If we look at our brokenness in terms of sin, then there are stratifications. There are better and worse than’s. But that is not how we are called to look at it. We are all sinful. It isn’t just that we have all messed up, but it is that we all have a broken, sinful nature. We all desire that which is sinful. You, me, our moms and dads, our preachers and bishops, all of us. We are all “sinful.” Jesus didn’t just come to forgive for our sins; he came to free us and restore us. When Adam and Eve fell, our nature was corrupted. That affects every last one of us. Charles Wesley put it this way in his great hymn Love Divine:

Take away our bent to sinning;

Alpha and Omega be

We all have that “bent to sinning.” Everyone one of us. All of us. You are sinful.You are broken. You are. Yes. You. Me. All of us.

But here is the joy: that truth doesn’t make you the scum of the earth. It makes you human. We are all broken. We are all sinful. We are all frail.

There is equality in our brokenness. We all stand equal before God, no matter what. We are all broken. That makes us all equal, no matter what.

Second, brokenness is clarity. If we ever, ever, ever really understand our brokenness, then we have the ability to see ourselves as we really are. Broken and in need of a Savior. When we understand that, then healing can really begin.

One of the best books I’ve ever read is The Ragamuffin Gospel by Brennan Manning. If you’ve not read it, you need to stop what you are doing, go and buy it, and read it. In this book, he deals with our need for grace and the reckless God who gives us grace, unearned. Listen to what he writes:

At Sunday worship, as in every dimension of our existence, many of us pretend to believe we are sinners. Consequently all we can do is pretend to believe we have been forgiven. As a result, our whole spiritual life is pseudo-repentance and pseudo-bliss.

This clarity – you are sinful, I am too – when we realize that, when we truly know that we are sinful, then we are able to clearly see how amazing God’s grace is. God knows the worst about us and loves us anyway. Our brokenness gives us clarity to see ourselves as we are, and to see just how much God truly loves us.

Finally, brokenness is opportunity. When we know our brokenness, as well as God’s great love for us, in spite of it all, we have an opportunity – an opportunity to be remade, reformed, reborn. We go from being the Pharisees thankful that we are not tax collectors to the tax collector simply thankful for God’s love.

Understanding our brokenness allows us to truly reveal and marvel in God’s grace. Understanding our brokenness puts on the path of recovery, the path of wholeness, the path of holiness. This path that understands it’s not about our morality and getting it right, but it’s about our humility and submission to Jesus and following Jesus.

Our brokenness is our opportunity to be truly faithful.

This Lent, you are sinful. You are imperfect. You are broken. So am I. May we take this realization as a means of grace. And may we allow ourselves to be recreated into the people that God is calling us to be. We are equal in brokenness, we are equally in grace. May this gift make us whole.

Jeff Rudy ~ Third Day Dimension

But if it is preached that Christ has been raised from the dead, how can some of you say that there is no resurrection of the dead? If there is no resurrection of the dead, then not even Christ has been raised. And if Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith. More than that, we are then found to be false witnesses about God, for we have testified about God that he raised Christ from the dead. But he did not raise him if in fact the dead are not raised. For if the dead are not raised, then Christ has not been raised either. And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins. Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ are lost.If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied. But Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. – I Corinthians 15:12-20

My friend Kevin is a professor of New Testament at my alma mater. He told me about the time several years ago when his father died. He recalled vividly people coming up to him to tell him not to cry, not to grieve because, “That’s not really your father. That’s just a shell.” They were well-intended words, but it was frustrating for Kevin and it came to the point he challenged their words in a most poignant way when he said in reply, “What do you mean, that’s not my father? Those are the hands that cared for me. Those are the arms that took me up and hugged me. Those are the lips that spoke to me; the eyes that searched for me; the chest on which I fell asleep, knowing I was safe in his care. Everything I have ever known of my father was through this body. Don’t tell me that’s not him.”

Now what I’m about to say might sound a little jarring at first, but hear this, and hear me out:

Jesus wasn’t raised from the dead just so you could go to heaven when you die.

That’s not the end game. The goal is something greater than just going to heaven when you die. Because if it was just about that, then what the ancient pagans and Gnostics believed about the body must be true – that our bodies are prisons, that they are merely shells for some sort of immaterial soul within that ultimately longs to be free. To be clear, that sort of picture can be a picture of salvation and of hope, but it is not the picture of Christian salvation and hope that we have in the New Testament. The picture of salvation and hope in the New Testament is very clearly based on an event that took place 2,000 years ago – the resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth who had been crucified and died, was buried, and on the third day rose again.

In both the Apostles’ and Nicene Creeds, there are two statements about the resurrection – (1) that Jesus was resurrected on the third day; and (2) the belief “in the resurrection of the body” or “resurrection of the dead” which is about the resurrection that we still await – what we call the “general resurrection.” These doctrines are not euphemisms or merely metaphors to talk about an ethereal reality or our need to “escape” our earthly tents, so to speak. No, Jesus’ body departed the tomb with its scars, though they had healed, and apparently with some new abilities that they had not yet seen. (More on that in a moment.)

In this section of 1 Corinthians, Paul is in the midst of his theological discourse about the content of Christian hope. He’s already established that there are over 500 eyewitnesses to Jesus’ bodily resurrection (verses 1-11). And he now turns to address what appears to be a faction of the Corinthians who weren’t necessarily denying that Jesus was raised (though some were perhaps teaching that), but who were at least denying that a future resurrection was still in store for the people of God.

Most of the world in the first century didn’t believe in an eternity that was based upon the idea of the resurrection of the body. By the time Jesus was around, there was a sect within Judaism called the Sadducees who did not believe in a future resurrection. It was the Pharisees who believed that the resurrection would one day happen as the final reckoning of God’s judgment, when God would right the wrongs and vindicate the faithful by raising them from the dead to enjoy eternity in the presence of God. But the Sadducees and others like them focused their message of salvation in the “now,” which is one reason why the Sadducees frequently are seen in the Gospels in cahoots with the powers that be…to get as much power and prestige in this life as possible.

However, the teaching of the Pharisees and most other Jews was that the resurrection of the dead would mark the final day of God’s judgment: the picture of hope for God’s faithful. It’s what Jesus held to, what Paul held to, what Jesus’ friends and followers believed as well. In John 11, right before Jesus raised Lazarus, he told Martha, “Your brother will rise again.” She replied, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day.” And what Jesus did next for Martha, Mary and all of Lazarus’ friends was to give them a glimpse of that in resuscitating Lazarus. I say “resuscitate” rather than “resurrect” because Lazarus was raised by Jesus but would one day die again. However, the resurrection would be to life for eternity. And here, my friends, is where the resurrection of Jesus was so surprising: not because they didn’t believe it wouldn’t one day happen, but that it happened on the third day. When Jesus was raised, it wasn’t just a resuscitation, it was something more: he was raised to never die again. That’s resurrection.

And Paul’s point here, as he says elsewhere in his letters, is that what is true of Jesus the Messiah is true of us. What happened to Jesus will one day happen to us. If it won’t happen to us – if we deny that the resurrection of the body will happen – then what is the purpose of Jesus’ resurrection? Paul goes further and says that if we won’t be raised then it must be that Christ was not raised. And if that is the case, then we are still in our sins, because sin and death are intertwined in Paul’s worldview. We would still be in our sins and death would remain the victor.

But, Paul, says, Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the “first fruits” of those who have died. The language of “first fruits” is why we affirm that what happened to Jesus on the third day will happen to us on the final day: that will be the harvest from when we have been buried, planted, interred, or returned to the earth or laid to rest.

So, I say again, Jesus wasn’t raised from the dead just so you could go to heaven when you die. He was raised so that one day we, too, will be raised. God will do more than resuscitate our mortal bodies…but restore, redeem, and endow our bodies, this creation, with amazing new possibilities that will leave us eternally in awe of God’s ability to make all things new.

The resurrection is part of why we ought not treat our world like trash. The resurrection is why my family recycles. The resurrection is why we should be good stewards of our bodies. The resurrection is why we should strive to fight for the dignity and well-being of all humans on the face of the planet. The resurrection is why we seek to be Christ’s hands, feet, and voice now, getting to experience the beauty of salvation now, living for the kingdom of God in Christ now, even while we wait for the later when God will give life to these mortal bodies. And at the end of the day and the end of life, the resurrection is why we do grieve even to the point of breaking down and weeping, because of how much we love and will miss the person who has died. And the resurrection is why we don’t believe these bodies are prisons or shells but when we die, await a glorious time when God will do with our bodies what he did with Jesus’ on the third day. And what do we see Jesus doing after the third day? Well, the same sort of things we do even now: eating fish, breaking bread, walking and talking, showing the scars of our past. Only now, he could do more! As if given a new dimension, he was able to show up behind a closed, locked door; travel to Galilee in no time; and so on.

A new dimension. In geometry, a line is one-dimensional – length; when lines form to make a shape, it’s two-dimensional – length and width. But it remains two-dimensional until you add depth or height. Is that third dimension separate from the other dimensions? No. It is made up of them but adds more.

That’s one way to see the resurrection: it’s something mysterious and amazing and beyond the world as we currently know it. And yet while it is beyond and more than it, it is not so “other” that it is less than whatever truth and goodness and beauty we currently know. Believing this means that we are not to be pitied but that we live in hope.

Note from the Editor: The featured artwork is titled “Harbingers of the Resurrection” by Nikolai Ge, 1867.

Aaron Perry ~ Self-Consciousness vs Self-Awareness

When I was in my early twenties, I was really good at softball. I could play defense, run reasonably well, and hit for power. I got better because I had a coach, Gordon, who watched me play and gave me pointers. As a result, I positioned myself intentionally at third base depending on the batter. I chose a heavier bat more frequently. I positioned my feet strategically in the batter’s box.

As life took over, I quit playing softball. Because I missed the atmosphere and the camaraderie, I picked the sport back up in my mid-thirties. Between my early twenties and mid-thirties, however, I got married, added three children, and bought a house. I also lost my softball skills. While I was no longer any good at softball, I thought I could get better. So I took my coach’s spot: I started analyzing my own game and made appropriate adjustments. But the changes didn’t come as quickly as I wanted. I tried harder. I made more changes. Rather than improving, I became rigid. I was too concerned about several minor adjustments and I forgot about playing the actual game for fun.

This difference in experience—exhibited by my early twenties and my mid-thirties softball self—is vital for leaders. It is the difference between self-awareness and self-consciousness. My early softball self was self-aware; my later softball self was self-conscious. Good leadership requires self-awareness: a leader knowing herself by acknowledging her gifts and limits to set herself up for success.

John Maxwell once said something like, “Everyone who is a success found out what they’re good at.” Finding our what you’re good at is the journey of self-awareness, but it can also become the journey of self-consciousness if you become obsessed with looking at yourself. Leaders must be courageous in being self-aware but cautious at becoming self-conscious. Here are some differences between self-consciousness and self-awareness.

SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS

Self-knowledge is crippling

Rigid

Embarrassed by faults

Focused on how others perceive self

Easily offended/demanding as defense

SELF-AWARENESS

Self-knowledge is actionable

Flexible within limits

Comfortable with self

Aware of gifts that can serve others

Aware of tendencies under pressure

This is hardly an exhaustive list; more distinctions could be drawn. But I’ll offer an illuminating character sketch from C.S. Lewis.

“I’ve got to have my rights, see?”

The words come from one of C.S. Lewis’ heaven-touring ghosts in his classic, The Great Divorce. The speaker—a burly sort of brute willing to enforce his will with fists, is quite a strong fellow from an earthly perspective. He seems to have had a management position where he made life difficult for those under his leadership. But his self-affirmation cripples him in heaven. He cannot go on by his own strength, demanding that he get what’s coming to him. The burly ghost is self-conscious, aware of what he wants and what he demands. Yet he is completely lacking in self-awareness. He does not realize that in this new world, a demanding, self-promoting will won’t get him anywhere.

I study leadership from a theological perspective, so when I consider leaders who are self-conscious vs. leaders who are self-aware, I think of the initial story of idolatry. You know the story from the Garden of Eden. When that bit of attention was paid to the initial couple’s own desires and they set those desires above and beyond the desires of the Creator, with disastrous consequences. St Augustine defined virtue as the right ordering of loves. We ought to love persons before things. We ought to love beauty but not before we love God. The person who loves their laptop before they love their child has a misordered love. Captured in that initial story, that little rearranging of the proper order of desires spelled consequences for an entire planet. Self-consciousness emerged as the initial couple realized they were naked and covered themselves. Self-consciousness developed as they hid from God.

Because of this disaster in our collective history, sometimes the prospect of self-assertion strikes fear in the heart of potential would-be leaders. They do not want to repeat that initial sin of misordered love, giving in to their desires; they shrink from full-throated voice, shying away from full-bodied leadership. They can fear a strong sense of self. But this shrinking shyness does not keep us from sin; it is a sign of self-consciousness.

Leaders do not avoid the route of self-consciousness by avoiding the self. The spirits of heaven, for Lewis, are not disavowing, shrinking selves. They are more real than the ghosts. They are glorious beings, full of life. They are true selves. The spirit sent to engage the burly ghost is well aware of his self—his failures, his sins, his weak desires. But rather than demanding his rights, he is able see himself rightly. The point is not to get rid of the self. It is to grow into the proper self. Leaders are not trying to do away with their desires and deny their skills. They are trying to grow them through self-knowledge.

Former counseling professor Dr. Burrell Dinkins once remarked that to play professional football, you need a big ego. Without a big ego, he argues, you’ll get pushed off the field, too easily relinquishing your spot to the next eager competitor. I think there’s a parallel to leadership. Without a sense of self—a properly aware ego—there is no leadership. People do not follow shriveled selves willingly. Having a strong ego need not be hubris. Neurologist David Owen described a twisting of the self after years of success and power as the “hubris syndrome.” Self-awareness is not about inordinate pride, but about developing an appropriate ego. Self-consciousness is an obsession with the self. Self-awareness contributing to an appropriate ego is vital for success. Self-consciousness leads to anxiety.

So how does one develop self-awareness without succumbing to idolatry and the resulting self-consciousness? Though leadership scholar Ron Heifetz writes, “You don’t change by looking in the mirror; you change by encountering differences,” self-awareness can include looking in the mirror. With a nod to the wisdom of James, we look in the mirror not just to remember our appearance. We look to see what needs to change. Self-awareness is about knowing whatis different from us and being appropriately postured to engage it critically. It is about positioning our feet in the batter’s box and picking the right bat to swing. Self-awareness might involve a look in the mirror, but it doesn’t gaze there. Self-consciousness, on the other hand, results after a second, third, fourth look in the mirror. Self-consciousness grows alongside obsession with the mirror. Self-consciousness thinks that what it sees in the mirror is what everyone else sees, too.

Let’s apply some of these reflections. Do you know what your leadership self looks like? When was the last time you paused to do some self-reflection? Or to do some evaluation with a trusted, honest, and courageous friend, colleague, or follower? If you can’t remember what you look like, you might want to take a peek back in the mirror.

On the other hand, spiritual disciplines author Richard Foster once remarked that we need to stop taking our spiritual temperatures so frequently. Likewise with self-awareness. After getting some pointers, I needed to get back to playing softball. I needed to test the hitting hypotheses.

What do you know about yourself right now that could influence your way of acting in the world? Put it to use. Try it out. Make a change. [Don’t get stuck staring into the mirror. Self-conscious leaders will lead organizations into being stuck—afraid to move, crippled because only a perfect action will suffice. Self-aware leaders will position themselves well and help others to do so, as well, free to swing hard, run hard, and enjoy playing.

Featured image is “Passage of the Mirrors” by Maria Helena Vieira da Silva under Fair Use. 1981.

Edgar Bazan ~ Relaunch

In the past, I’ve talked about reset as the ability to embrace and move into the new things that God has for us by not allowing the hurts of the past to hold us back. We can’t change the facts of the past, but we can change how we feel about them and how we allow them to affect us today. It’s possible to reframe our past experiences into a story of redemption by looking at them and talking about them through the lens of Jesus’ love and grace.

The outcome is that, as we experience redemption, we are able to move into the new life God has for us; we stop keeping our future a hostage to our past. We free our future by allowing God to redeem our past and reframe our whole lives around a new story of hope, redemption, and new life.

Today, I want to talk about our future. When I use the word “relaunch,” I mean the action, the opportunity, or the decision to try again that which has not been going well.

Our text comes from Isaiah 43:18, 19:

Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland.

The context of Isaiah’s writing to the people of Israel takes place at a bleak period in Israel’s history. They were in captivity, conquered by the Assyrians who had become the dominating military and political power of the region. They had lost everything they thought they would keep forever, and they were homesick for the land and the blessing God had promised them.

This happened because they were suffering the consequences of wrong choices against each other and God. Israel had abandoned everything they once represented as God’s people; they had become selfish and unjust. They had missed the mark of their mission and calling as people of God. They had forgotten time and time again that the blessing given to their father Abraham and their mother Sarah was meant to be stretched out to all the families of the earth and that this was the reason for their existence, their purpose and goal as people of God. They failed because they forgot who they were meant to be. Instead of pursuing their purpose, they settled with ephemeral comforts and tried to become like everyone else.

No doubt Israel was discouraged because they thought this was the end of them. They were stuck – emotionally, mentally, and spiritually – in their past, unable to see the new life and opportunities that God was opening up. God was speaking hope and encouragement to them in the midst of their darkest times.

God wanted them to know that even though they were suffering, they were not forsaken. God wanted the people of Israel to understand that the hardship they were experiencing would not be the end of them. God wanted to give them a fresh start, a new beginning in their life, a relaunch, so to speak. By telling them, “forget the former things,” God was saying, “it is time to move on.”

Maybe that is where we are! We may feel we are stuck, that we have failed people we love – including God – so many times that we are just getting what we deserve. If God dealt with us based on what we deserve, we wouldn’t be here. No, God deals with us with grace, to bring out the best of us and make us whole again.

God is not in the business of annihilation, but of redemption. Our God does not dwell in the past, for he is always doing a new thing. Don’t ever believe that God doesn’t want anything to do with you. If you think that you have no future, I have good news for you. God is saying, “it’s not over, I have plans for your life. I am about to do something new for you,” because God is always on the move, and he is always calling us forward.

Today, I am saying this so you can not only believe it, but so that you can also fully embrace a new life.

How can we embrace this new thing that God wants to do in our lives?

We begin by realizing that our God is forward thinking. Consider: the moment things went wrong at the beginning with Adam and Eve and their sin, God introduced a plan of salvation. Every time people got it wrong and messed up God’s work, God would continue to keep his plan unfolding. When Jesus called the disciples, and everyone else for that matter, he did it so they would follow a new path, a new way of living. He called them forward. So it is with us!

This tells us that God is far more interested in our future than in our past, that we are not a final product, and that God wants to do something new in us every day regardless of what has been. Some people think that all God wants to do is remind them of the things they have done wrong. God is more interested in your future than in your past. God is always working a future for us.

One of my favorite movies of all time is Back to the Future. In this movie, when Marty goes back to the past, he stands out. He knows things and has seen things and acts differently because he is from the future. In the first film, there are some scenes where he is thought of as weird for making peculiar decisions because his peers don’t understand where he is coming from.

In the same way, we can view all of us, Jesus’ followers, as people of the future. Let me explain. If you jump back 2,000 years to when Jesus was walking the earth, a majority of the Jewish people believed in the resurrection of the dead. They believed that at the end of time, when God set the world right, the righteous would be resurrected and vindicated. The twist is that Jesus accomplished that in the middle of the history, not at the end. God did for Jesus in the present what Jewish people thought he would do for all at the end. So, in the resurrection, it’s like Jesus became a person of the future.

In the same way, everything else Jesus has done for us – how he brought a new world, a new way of living – is about bringing the promises of the future into the present. With this, God calls us to live as our future selves right here in the present, to step into what God says is true about us, and to stand out.

We don’t have to wait for our best life to happen someday; it can begin to happen right now if we step into it. Most of the things that get in the way are our choices. I know you are thinking, easier said than done. And you are right.

How do we relaunch our lives to embrace the new thing that God wants to do in our lives? Let’s look again at the story of Israel and the challenge they had.

The problem that this story presents may help us to understand why we too struggle to embrace new life today: they forgot who they were meant to be. They lost their way. They allowed things to get in the way that disrupted their purpose and sent them onto a path God did not intend for them.

The miracle in the middle of this story and all of our stories is that God never gives up on us. God is always working to give us a future. God is always invested in our healing, redemption, and restoration so we can get back on track.

This is not just about wanting to save us but wanting to give us a good, abundant life that accomplishes the desires of God’s heart and our hearts. God has written in our hearts his goodness and creativity, all the best he wants for us.

What is your heart telling you today? What are the things that have gotten in your way, in your marriage, your family? What are the thoughts, the dreams, the desires of your heart that have been lost or forgotten over time?

Many of us have learned to have our faith in God –and that is a beautiful gift. Our faith in God grounds us in the hope for tomorrow. But let me add something else that has do with the voice of our heart: our faith in God does not mean we must doubt ourselves. Our faith in God ought to lead us to trust ourselves too. Our faith in God leads us to know not only how much we are loved but also why we were created.

Here is where many of us struggle. Do we know how much we are worth? Do we know how large our life is meant to be? Let me tell you something. Self-doubt forces us into lives that are too small for our dreams. We settle too soon. For the most part, our lives are about safely conforming to what has been, rather than building up new and wild dreams. And we doubt ourselves because we focus on our weaknesses, on our mistakes, on what people think and say about us, rather than on the beautiful ways we were created and gifted by God.

To this God says: “Forget the former things!” My friends, this word today is God telling us, “remember who you are, who you are meant to be. I am always with you.” God knows that when we live in doubt and undervalue ourselves, we give up on what we are meant to be, on any pursuit of our heart’s dreams. But we are the only creation in the universe that was created after God’s own image. Are we to reject that? No, we need to embrace it because by doing so we honor and glorify God.

Today, God is telling us to stop doubting ourselves and to find our strength and purpose. I believe that God placed dreams in our heart as the fuel to move and encourage us to live forward, and that God is overjoyed when we pursue those desires.

Can you hear God’s voice in your heart? What is God saying? How is God encouraging you right now? What dreams have been placed in your heart?

Often, when we pray over and over again for the same thing, it is not because God is failing to give us an answer, but because we have not heard the answer we want. What if this year we go with what we have already been told, with what is in our hearts, as scary and challenging as it may be?

I finish with this. To relaunch is not to keep things the way they are but to endeavor into new things. When God says “I am making a new thing,” that new thing is for you… you are not forgotten. What we think is the end is actually the beginning of the next chapter. It is time to move on to what’s next. You can only grow if you allow a new chapter to be written in your life. To relaunch is not about replaying the same old song but learning a new one.

If we welcome God’s love and grace in our lives; if we have faith in the future he has promised us; if we know that God is for us and not against us, then no matter what situations we face, we will be able to engage with them in a positive way, because we know that we have life ahead of us, and that whatever the former things were, they have no claim over us anymore: we have moved on from them.

I invite you to look for the courage to act on the dreams God has placed in your heart, on what you are meant to be. Maybe you are like a bird who for a long time has had thoughts of flying but is in a cage. Here, the door is open. God created us to spread our wings toward the bright sky he created for us to enjoy. May your choices reflect your hopes for the future and not the fears of your past. Live tomorrow today. Amen.