Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you - 1 Peter 5:6-7
“I pray because I can't help myself. I pray because I'm helpless. I pray because the need flows out of me all the time, waking and sleeping. It doesn't change God. It changes me.” - C.S. Lewis
"And whoever gives one of these little ones even a cup of cold water because he is a disciple, truly, I say to you, he will by no means lose his reward.” Matthew 10:42
Quote from "The Hiding Place" by Corrie Ten Boom:
“Thank you," Betsie went on serenely, "for the fleas and for-"
The fleas! This was too much.
"Betsie, there's no way even God can make me grateful for a flea."
"Give thanks in all circumstances," she quoted. "It doesn't say, 'in pleasant circumstances.' Fleas are part of this place where God has put us."
And so we stood between piers of bunks and gave thanks for fleas. But this time I was sure Betsie was wrong.”
"But we see Jesus." - Hebrews 2:9
"Welcome, child," he said.
"Aslan," said Lucy, "you're bigger."
"That is because you are older, little one," answered he.
"Not because you are?"
"I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger."
-C.S. Lewis, Prince Caspian: The Return to Narnia
“For I the Lord do not change; therefore you, O children of Jacob, are not consumed.” - Malachi 3:6
“God never hurries. There are no deadlines against which he must work. ONly to know this is to quiet our spirits and relax our nerves.” - A.W. Tozer
Union Church family, the last 3 months of world history has been stunning. We are witnessing a global pandemic, economic turmoil, riots, protests, and an incredible amount of tension in our society.
How are we to live well in the midst of it all?
Our chief concern as Christians is following, honoring, and representing Jesus in every aspect of our lives. Our savior Himself has said, that if we love Him, we will keep his commandments. The two great commandments given are to love the Lord our God with all our heart, mind, soul, and strength, and to love our neighbors as ourselves.
To love God and neighbor today, we need to enter into the brokenness, lament the injustice that we are witnessing, repent when and where it’s necessary, and be agents of hope in a world of despair.
A primary danger of our culture today is to take issues concerning people into mere politics. It’s become common place to take any issue or occurrence and quickly draw a line between the so called left and right. This leads to polarization and fragmentation, rather than unity and movement in love. Let’s resist this urge.
As Christians we see a central core of the biblical faith is recognizing that every person is made in the image of God and has inherent dignity, value and worth regardless of race, creed, orientation, or socio-economic status.
To walk in the way of Jesus today means to lament and call for justice when the image of God is ignored, and injustice is perpetuated. This includes the history and affects of continued systemic racism. This includes the tragic and unnecessary deaths of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and Ahmaud Arbery and many others.
As Dr King said, “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.”
My hope and prayer for us, is that we can be a “both and” people in an “either or” world.
We can uphold truth and embody grace.
We can work for justice in social spheres and maintain the centrality of the gospel.
We can proclaim loudly that black lives matter, while appreciating, and honoring the men and women that serve as law enforcement officers.
We can be a “both and” people in an “either or” world
This is not a luke-warm middle ground but embracing and holding truth and grace in the midst of the tension. We can let go of judging, critiquing, and name calling, and pursue empathy, understanding, listening, and ask questions for greater clarity.
We are called in this season to more closely align with the Kingdom of God. This means we must repent of our apathy, indifference, and ways we’ve contributed to dividing rather than uniting around Jesus and his way.
Latasha Morrision rightly says “In the love of the family of God, we must become color brave, color caring, color honoring, and not color blind. We have to recognize the image of God in one another. We have to love despite, and even because of, our differences. Jesus can make beauty from ashes, but the family of God must first see and acknowledge the ashes.”
To do that, we need the help of the Holy Spirit. But with God’s help we can be a people of peace in a world of chaos. We can pursue justice in a world of injustice. We can uphold love in the face of fear, and light in the midst of darkness.
Union Church, our calling is to show the radical love of Jesus, not the position of our political preferences. His love is costly and crosses lines, breaks down barriers, and serves everyone with love, especially His enemies.
Let us be a people who are tethered to the real Jesus, united in him, looking to show His love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control to the world that so desperately needs it.
Let’s pray and lament together
(We prayed this at our gathering on 6/7/2020)
Our Father in heaven, As we look at this world, we shutter with the amount of brokenness we see and confess that we don’t know where to start. How long oh Lord will this continue? How long will you tarry? When will you break through and bring healing and hope? Help us to lament in these fractured times.
Forgive us for what we have done and left undone. Give us humility to learn where we need to grow. Convict us of our apathy and indifference. Grant us courage to walk in repentance. Please open our eyes to see, our ears to hear, and our hearts to understand what it looks like to follow you today. Unite us in your love to share and show Jesus well. May your kingdom come, and will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. In the name of Jesus we pray, Amen.
Much of the conversation surrounding prayer is focused on the individual. Don’t get me wrong, prayer is a personal matter and I believe it ought to continue to be personal. But often in a Western, hyper-individualistic, Christian culture, the prayer of the collective can sometimes be overlooked. The idea of collective prayer is not some new idea, in fact, it has always been supported in scripture. Revelation 8:3-5 illustrates the significance of corporate prayer as it peels back the curtain of heaven a bit for us. There we see “the prayers of all the saints” being offered upon the golden altar before God’s throne. Specifically reminding us that when one of the saints pray, all the saints pray. In prayer before the One who created all things, we are never alone.
As John Onwuchekwa explains in his book, entitled Prayer: How Praying Together Shapes the Church, “Prayer was never meant to be a merely personal exercise with personal benefits, but a discipline that reminds us how we’re personally responsible for others. This means that every time we pray, we should actively reject an individualistic mindset. We’re not just individuals in relationship with God, but we are part of a community of people who have the same access to God. Prayer is a collective exercise.”
Therefore, in the weeks that follow during our seasons of social distancing and beyond, Union Church will be posting prayers for us corporately engage in. We are together in Christ and together in life.
Together we pray,
Lord, we pause to weep with those who have lost loved ones in the wake of Covid-19. While we may have not been directly impacted by death, we pause to pay our respects to those who have (as of April 22 there have been 179,725 deaths worldwide). May we remain thoughtful and kind to those who are suffering, always willing to do our part in “flattening the curve” and loving our neighbor as ourselves.
Lord, we ask for your wisdom to be upon national and local leaders as our nation attempts to restart the areas of the economy that have stagnated. We pray for those who have lost income and job security, please uphold them in this difficult season. Thank you for the privileges our country has provided by way of stimulus packages, please disperse funds to the small businesses and people who desperately need them. May we ever be mindful that You are our manna.
Lord, thank you for placing us in a country where we are free. Please equip our leaders with the practical wisdom and understanding necessary to lead our country as we move forward. May we be informed and peaceable citizens and give us enough grace to not make an idol out of politics. You are the one who rules and reigns over every single administration. Your sovereign will never ceases to be accomplished. May we always remember this and look to submit our allegiance to you every single day. Thank you for your Son who shows us which footsteps to follow and for your Spirit who provides power for the journey.
Thank you for finding and calling us into Your Kingdom.
In Jesus name, we pray together, amen.
As a little girl, I used to love tunnels. When our road trips suddenly exchanged the glaring, warm, midday sun for the shadowy underbelly of the earth, excitement and awe took over. “YES!”, I’d shriek, letting everyone in the car know I approved of this newfound, yet short-lived thrill. My sister and I would see who could hold our breath the longest, trying to make it to the end. She would win. She was older and better at most things. Sometimes I’d cheat and take a quick breath, hoping not to be caught. Inevitably, the grungy concrete walls and dim lights would end, as abruptly as they came. We’d forcefully let out our air-filled lungs and, once again, we’d be basking in sunshine, shading our eyes, pointing our vents to cool our warmed bodies, quickly forgetting the few moments shared in darkness.
Right now feels like a tunnel. Sudden. Dark. Uncertain. Not playful and thrilling as I remember. Holding our breath for sure. Longing for sunlight most definitely.
Darkness permeates.
Wake up. Is this all a bad dream? No. Still real life. This has me wanting to check-out, stay in bed, avoid reality. What is reality again? Another day of this? Crowding my thoughts already. Darkness.
A press of the home button. More news. Endless scrolling. Ignoring the 15 minute limit…again. Darkness. Stress. Another article. Death toll up. Stock market down. Can social distancing really help? Yes. Why aren’t some people taking this seriously? Frustrated. Judgmental. Video of ER in Italy. Sobering. Scary. Statistics. Darkness.
How can something that feels so distant, so intangible for me at this moment crowd my thoughts and my life in such a significant way? Suffocating darkness.
The darkness feels inescapable. I miss my escapes.
The escape of family and friends. Sharing meals. Togetherness…not the screen kind. The embrace-and-snuggle-your-kids kind. The wash-your-hands-after-the-bathroom-and-cutting-chicken-only kind. The close-enough-to-see-your-smile-lines kind. The kind that leaves me feeling soulful and belly-full and grateful. Not now.
The escape of work. Guiding needles into arms of patients prepping for elective surgery. Easing their worried minds as we talk about where they’re from and what they do when they aren’t having their hernias repaired or knees scoped. Co-workers. Linda’s smile. Sherri’s weekend story, sometimes with tears. Michelle’s discussion in solidarity about the scrubs that magically shrunk overnight. We laugh. We help each other out. Anticipate the needs. Care deeply for our patients and earn a paycheck. Not now.
The escape of freedom. Heading to the park with three earnest and energetic boys. “Will you push me high in the sky, momma?”. Target runs. Dinner out. Date nights. Slowly perusing each corner of a local antique store, searching for treasures I don’t need but might find. Spin class at the Y. Did I ever think I’d miss that?! Mornings to myself with boys in school. Coffee with a friend. Vacation at the beach. The BEACH. Warm sand, cold ocean. Squeals of delight as foamy waves crash onto sun-kissed feet. Cherished memories. Not now.
The escape of church gatherings. Rushed Sunday mornings with out-loud prayers for the day and discussions of expectations for behavior on the way. Warm greetings with sincere smiles and comforting embraces. Kids to their classes to join friends—learning together. Good news. The Story of King Jesus. Corporate worship. Varied bodies sitting close. Songs sung. Prayers uttered. The Word preached and believed. Communion taken. Familiar yet extraordinary. Lingering afterwards with banter and deciding where to go for lunch. Laughing and uniting. Not now.
Not now. Not now because we’re in the tunnel. Darkness permeates. I know God is God, and He’s here, and He’s enough—even in the shadows. But my heart is heavy and my mind is weary. Deep breath. Heart slows. Lord, have mercy.
Then there’s light. It barely trickles in but our strained eyes identify it immediately. It’s the moments throughout the day when we’re not thinking about “it”…the seemingly cruel virus, the fear, the loss, the uncertainties. It’s our truest escape from darkness because darkness cannot dwell in these moments.
Morning snuggles. All fifty toes in one king-sized bed. Un-rushed days. Meal time discussions about which superpower is superior: flying or invisibility. I say flying. A bible laid open, seeping truths into our weary minds and hearts. Stories of heroes. Heroes battling for their patient’s very breath. Heroes living a nightmare they’d never dared to envision. Exhausted but unwavering. Heroes stocking and re-stocking the shelves with supplies. Heroes preparing food for those who can’t afford it. Heroes showing up to work when they’d rather be at home. Heroes staying at home when they’d rather go out. Heroes finding ways to help one another. Kindness. Generosity. Courage in the chaos. Faith in the midst of fear. Checking-in with neighbors. Phone calls to friends. Whispered, passionate prayers. Slow dances in the kitchen. Pajamas because we can. Hikes in the forest where spring has begun to emerge and snow-melt moves eagerly over smooth stones. Trying new recipes, finding comfort in old ones. Soil covered hands preparing pots for new life. Coffee sipped slow. Worship songs playing, fettering our wandering hearts to Jesus once again.
For now, we get momentary glimpses of light. But the tunnel will end. It always does. We’ll emerge. And the sun will warm our skin and nearly blind our eyes. We’ll have new truths about God and humanity etched onto our hearts. Self-sufficiency will be shattered. Trust and dependency on Him will be be cultivated. We’ll be grateful and careful and less likely to take things for granted—to take people for granted. Patience learned. Compassion practiced. We’ll mourn our losses. We’ll grieve deeply as we remember the dead. We’ll welcome the babies and celebrate the marriages and congratulate the graduates. We’ll embrace. We’ll gather. We’ll continue on the journey, never the same.
Until then, look for the flicker, the glint, the flash. Open your eyes or you’ll miss it. Stay present or you’ll pass it by. Don’t hold your breath for the light at the end of the tunnel. It’s here.
“Light dawns in the darkness for the upright; he is gracious, merciful, and righteous.”
Psalm 112:4
“Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”
John 8:12
“You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.”
Matthew 5:14-16
“Let us know; let us press on to know the LORD; his going out is sure as the dawn; he will come to us as the showers, as the spring rains that water the earth.”
Hosea 6:3
“Because of the tender mercy of our God, whereby the sunrise shall visit us from on high to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.”
Luke 1:78-79
“No less God within the shadows
No less faithful when the night leads me astray
You're the heaven where my heart is
In the highlands and the heartache all the same”
-Highlands (Song of Ascent), Hillsong United
