Sunday Afternoon Prayer: Holy Spirit Edition

Today is Pentecost, the day the Holy Spirit came on the first disciples.  This afternoon's prayer is one of the songs we sang in our worship this morning.  It was a service full of celebrating the Holy Spirit's work in and through us: second graders received Bibles and graduated to worshiping in the sanctuary for the whole service, the "sanctuary service" and Basic English Service folks worshiped together, we installed new elders and deacons, we welcomed some of our children into the communion circle, we thanked faith formation volunteers, and we celebrated that our senior pastor has been at the church for 30 years.  The Holy Spirit is at work in so many ways!  As we continue to live with the Holy Spirit working through us, this is my prayer for the congregation and for myself.

Holy Spirit, guide me,
Shine your light inside me,
Fill me with your passion,
Breathe life into my soul.
--Rory Noland


Personal photo, detail of my ordination stole, January 2012

Grains of Hope

“We have, what do you call it, a small bit of wheat at the end of stalk, a grain.  We have what you would call, grains of hope.  When I face, when I am in darkness, even there when I am beaten and tortured every day, I have hope.  I do not stop.  That is what keep me alive.” 

These words came from the lips of a man who came as a refugee to Grand Rapids, and they became the title of the play Grains of Hope.  Grains of Hope is an ethnographic play created by Stephanie Sandberg and the Calvin Theater Company.  Stephanie and Calvin students interviewed over 100 people in West Michigan who came here as refugees or work closely with refugees.  From those interviews, she chose 7 stories—7 people—to feature at the center of the play.   An 18 year old woman who came to Grand Rapids from Vietnam with her family when she was three years old.  A man who fled Sudan as a child and when he eventually came to Grand Rapids, all he knew of America was Mickey Mouse printed on a t-shirt.  A Bhutanese man who spent 15 years of his life living in a refugee camp in Nepal in a simple bamboo house with dirt floors.  In the play, actors brought each of these characters to life using their own words from the interviews.  

They told of how they came to be in Grand Rapids and what they have faced since they arrived.  Stories of the difficulties of learning English and finding work.  They told stories of struggles to find good and affordable housing.  And they told stories of friendship and the people who have helped them along the way--middle school teachers, caseworkers, and doctors, an English tutor who became a friend, an older woman who became a family’s adopted mother and grandmother.

This play was performed 13 times in various locations around Grand Rapids over the last few weeks.  My congregation was privileged to host one of the performances last Sunday evening.  We have been active in working with refugees for many years, and several of the people who appeared in the play were members of our church who have developed relationships with families who came as refugees.  It was moving to see their dedication over the years brought to life. 

An actress telling the story of a woman who came from the DR Congo

As I watched the play, there were points where I was almost in tears at the stories.  Even the people who I don’t know personally have elements of their stories that are similar to stories I have heard from people that I know.  These are people that have welcomed me into their homes with various kinds of chai, fruit, and other snacks.  Who seem glad to have me there, even if much of the conversation around me is in a language that I don’t understand.  Who have loved me and prayed for my mom when she had surgery last winter.  They are people who have come through horrific circumstances to a new life in America.  And that life isn’t necessarily easier—safer and with a higher material standard of living, perhaps—but with the new challenges of DHS who cuts benefits (like food stamps) if you miss a letter or appointment, a mind-bogglingly complex medical system, and a culture that is independent to the extreme. 

I am so inspired by the people I know who arrived here as refugees.  I have seen Christ in them, again and again.  I am thankful for the opportunity to get to know so many of them in the past few years.  I have seen their hope, even in midst of despair.  I hope some of that has rubbed off on me.  And I hope that I and churches across North America would offer the friendship that gives hope to dealing with the transitions.  I pray that we would reflect Christ to our friends, because Jesus is the source of true hope.

Resources:

Video promo of Grains of Hope

Bethany Refugee Services

Refugee Stories from the UNHCR

11 Facts About Refugees

Wheat photo by Marilylle Soveran, http://www.flickr.com/photos/86953562@N00/47812279/, used under a Creative Commons License.
Play photo from Calvin College publicity, http://www.calvin.edu/news/archive/grains-of-hope

Sunday Afternoon Prayer: My Mother's Day Prayer

God who comforts people like a mother comforts her child (Is. 66:13),

I have such mixed feelings about this day.

I love my mom.  Thank you for her. 

Thank you for her love and dedication.

Thank you that she always believes in me and thinks I’m great.

Thank you for her prayers and that she taught me about you.

Thank you for her gift of teaching and all I’ve learned from her—how to read, how to bake, how to play softball, how to serve, and how to love.

And I'm thankful for my many friends that are moms.

Being a mom is a hard calling.  Make your presence known to them when they are awake at 3am feeding an infant or cleaning up vomit.   

Give them wisdom as they begin to instill values and habits in their young hearts.

Help them to teach their precious ones about you and model a life of faith.  May all of these little ones grow up to love and follow you.

But there is also sadness in my heart on this day.

I wish that I was a mother, too.

I know that it is a hard calling, and I wish that it was mine, too.

My heart is full of wonderings…

Where do I fit when it seems that motherhood = womanhood?

Will there be a day when motherhood is my calling?

How long might I have to wait?

How do I keep my baptismal promises to the children in my community?

And there is sadness in my heart that the church hurts women today.

Instead of a place that pours salt into already open wounds, 

may we be a place of honesty and love.

May we be a place where it is okay to shed tears for the children you wish you had,

or the children that lived only in your womb,

or the child that has wandered away from then family,

or your own desire for an good relationship with your mom. 

Today in particular, may we be a place of lament, as well as praise. 

May we be a safe and loving community and not an exclusive and hurtful one.

So God, take my thanksgiving and questions, joy and sadness. 

Help me to live with it all. 

Comfort me on the dark days.  Comfort others for whom this is an excruciating day.    

Help me to know that you haven’t forgotten me, like a mother who doesn’t forget the baby at her breast (Is 49:15).

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Personal Photo, May 2013.

Easter Chives

We are coming into the end of the Easter season—this Sunday is Ascension Sunday, the last Sunday of Easter.  During the last five weeks the church has been celebrating the resurrection and the new life that we have because of the death and resurrection of Christ.  I love Easterseason.  We didn’t celebrate it in the churches I grew up in.  We just got the glory of Easter’s morning and evening service.  Then things became rather non-descript until 40 days later, Ascension Day comes along.

At Church of the Servant, we celebrate Easter for the whole season.  Our art is white and gold and full of joy.  I get to wear my white stole.  We sing hymns about the resurrection and its impact on our life.  It is all about new life from death.  We were dead to sin but alive in Christ (Romans 6:11). 

I was reminded of this miracle by the neglected pots on my balcony.  I neglected them last fall.  I just let the plants die.  I never cleaned the pots.  They have been there, brown and shriveled for months and months.  I was dreading cleaning it all up and considering not planting anything this summer.

A couple of weeks ago we got rain and more rain and more rain.  Some of it managed to get onto my covered balcony and into at least one of the pots.  The weather slowly warmed past the freezing mark.  And I noticed something remarkable.  There was a dash of green sprouting from those shriveled dead leaves.  The chives that I grew last summer had come back to life.  It was a little resurrection. 

That bright burst of green coming up gave me hope.  It reminded me that my God says, “See, I am doing a new thing! / Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? / I am making a way in the wilderness / and streams in the wasteland” (Isaiah 43:19).  I don’t know exactly what new things God is doing and will do in my life. I do know that God is doing a new thing.  Just like my Easter chives.

Personal photo of my Easter chives, May 2013.

People of the Book and My Neighborhood Mosque

I recently read the novel People of the Book by Pulitzer Prize winning author Geraldine Brooks.  It tells to story of the Sarajevo Haggadah, an illustrated Haggadah (liturgy book for the Jewish Passover) that was created in Spain in the 14^th century.  It escaped Spain during the Spanish Inquisition, survived Catholic censors in Vienna in the 17^th century, and was rescued from underneath the Nazis in Sarajevo. 

Brooks took the historical outline of this special object and imagined how it made the journey.  Working back through history she created characters that interacted with the book—a Muslim librarian in Sarajevo, an alcoholic priest and his gambling rabbi friend, a young Muslim woman who became a slave for a Jewish doctor.  I actually don’t usually like books as complicated as this one.  Some chapters are a modern day story moving chronologically about the conservation of this special book.  In between those chapters are the chapters that describe each stop, and then move in reverse chronological order.  Each of those chapters is in a new time and place with a new set of characters to get to know.  And for this book, it works.  I was drawn into the story—the story moving forward and the individual stories moving backwards.

One of the questions or themes of this book are how people of different religions get along, or don’t get along, as often happens.  The novel is populated by “people of the book”—Jews, Christians, and Muslims.  Through the centuries, people of all three religions create, move, and preserve the haggadah.  But it usually comes in times of persecution, when people of one religion are in power and oppressing the others.  Christians censor books of other faiths in seventeenth century Venice.  A Muslim ruler captures a Christian woman and forces her to become his wife in fifteenth century Seville.  There are moments of beauty and depravity by people of all three religions. 

It is a long standing question: how do we relate to people of other faiths?  People of faith generally hold their beliefs strongly and that causes conflict.  We see it played out through the history books and browsing the news today.  And when faith gets combined with power—particularly political or economic power—things get messy.  I can only speak as a Christian, and we have made some terrible mistakes.  Those mistakes have brought dishonor to the name of Jesus, who came to bring shalom (peace, wholeness) to the world. 

I want to be part of bringing that shalom to the world, and that means both not perpetrating violence or harm to others, but also speaking the name of Jesus who brings peace.  Easier said than done.  I hear stories of people who have had to flee their homeland because of religious differences.  I walk by the mosques in my neighborhood and am curious about the people that worship in them, but I don’t know many of them.  And so I pray, may I be an instrument of peace.  May people of all backgrounds find shalom in Jesus Christ, where true peace is found.  And may all followers of Jesus bring peace and not violence of any sort.  

People of the Book image from Amazon, http://www.amazon.com/People-Book-Novel-Geraldine-Brooks/dp/0143115006/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1367202355&sr=8-1

Image of the mosque from Muslim in Michigan, http://muslimsinmichigan.org/2010/04/12/islamic-mosque-and-religious-institute-kentwood-mi/

Sunday Afternoon Prayer: A Prayer for Those Who are Lonely

I met a profoundly lonely woman this week.  This is my prayer for her, and for all others who feel alone.

 God of the Broken-Hearted,

There are so many people who are lonely in this world.

Left behind after the death of their husband or wife.

Wishing that they had children to care for them as they age.

Devastated after a marriage disintegrated.

Missing friends who had to move away.

Unable to sustain friendships.

Forced to leave homeland and family to flee for their lives.

Feeling alone in the midst of a crowd.

Jesus, you know this feeling.

You cried out from the cross, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

To each person who feels you have forsaken them,

Show up in a profound way.

May they know you as Emmanuel, God-with-them.

God-with-them when they sit in their apartment alone.

God-with-them when the tears pour down their face.

God-with-them as they wonder if this will ever end.

God, work through your people, the body of Christ, the church. 

Inspire your people to go out of their way to find the lonely-hearted.

Give them time and patience to walk with them through dark valleys.

May the body of Christ become our new family,

A place of trust, where the lonely find solace,

Where they met you.

In Jesus’, our Emmanuel's name.

Amen.

Photo by Dino ahmad ali,  http://www.flickr.com/photos/dinoowww/4125584110/.  Used under a Creative Commons License

Singleness is Sanctifying, Too

I’ve often heard that marriage is sanctification.  Sanctification is the theological word for becoming holy or becoming like Christ.  In a good marriage, people learn about themselves and getting along with others.  There is no denying God uses marriage to help people grow in their faith and become more Christ-like.  The problem is that every time we say this, it implies that you can’t really be sanctified if you aren’t married.  It reinforces the notion that serving God as a married person is better than serving God as a single person. 

Sanctification does not require marriage.  There are many ways that God sanctifies us.  Even more, marriage is not necessarily a better or quicker way to sanctification.  In fact, singleness can be part of sanctification, too.  Being single is a different training ground, but I truly believe it too can be fertile soil for becoming Christ-like.    

 One area of fertile soil is identity and trust.  Without another person, I am forced to deepen my identity in Christ.  I am not tempted to think that my boyfriend or husband is able to complete me.  I am who I am not because of my relationship status or who I am connected to.  I am a baptized daughter of God.  This is true of all of us who are in Christ, but being single takes away a temptation to find identity elsewhere. 

I have learned to trust God in different ways than if I was married.  I don’t have another person to rely on.  If I don’t have a job, there is no one else to support me.  If I have a stressful meeting, no one is waiting at home to comfort me.  If I need to make a decision, there is no one to help make the decision.  Instead, I live by faith.  I am learning to trust that God will provide for my needs.  I am learning to trust that God hears my prayers and binds up my broken heart.  I am learning to trust that God leads me and guides me in decision making.  Being single is fertile soil for sanctification in trust.     

This might sound counter-intuitive, but I have found being single to be a place to learn about community and hospitality.  You have to be intentional about developing community, when you don’t have built-in community with your spouse (although I would argue you still need to develop community with others when you’re married).  It takes work to maintain relationships.  There’s a learning curve to relationships—I have had to learn how to be vulnerable and let others in.  But those relationships can be sweet, friends that are family.  They are a community that has walked through some dark valleys, empty desserts, and sun-filled meadows with me.  I am better at all of the one-anothers we find in scripture because of this community.

 

The really awesome empty tomb cake my mom made for our Easter celebration!

Being single is also an opportunity to offer hospitality to others.  Before even offering hospitality, being single has given me a different insight into what it is like to be at the margins.  I don’t fit into what society expects, and it has made me more conscious of other people who might be feeling a bit out of place.  I want my life to be one that welcomes people in and gives them a place to feel at home.  What I desire to offer isn’t the stereotype of hospitality: dinner parties for couples or huge family dinners.  There is freedom associated with singleness and the type of hospitality I can offer.  I don’t have to figure out which family I’m going to spend holidays with.  This year, my parents came to celebrate Thanksgiving at my apartment with some of the refugees I work with.  At Easter, I took a family to my parents’ house for dinner.  I still have lots to learn (sanctification is a process, after all), but it is definitely a way that God is forming me.   

Getting married is not the only way to become sanctified.  There are plenty of sanctifying experiences and situations that come along with being single.  And so for all of us—whether married or single—my prayer is that we will “grow in every way more and more like Christ, who is the head of his body, the church” (Ephesians 4:15, NLT).


Personal photos taken on Iona, Scotland and at my parents' house in Michigan, taken in January and March 2013.