F a i t h f u l n e s s
Not always will we be on the mountaintop, experiencing to the fullest the almost-tangible presence of God. We cannot humanly muster the strength of spirit, nor the sheer determination of our will, to prolong that moment any longer than God in God’s self intends.
And so we find ourselves faced with the challenge (and it is, definitely, a challenge) to remain faithful to God and filled with God’s spirit during the “normal days” of our lives. We know and believe Christ still loves us, and he is no farther from us than we felt closest to him. But the complexities of life get in our way, and we seem to drift farther and farther away from him. Soon it seems as if the passion of our faith were some distant memory of youth. We are eaten up by the world and its distractions, consumed by worry and fear of things beyond our control. We search for God and strive for faith, but find ourselves weak and empty. The days are dark and gloomy, even in the full sun, and the only thing that gets us through is the still-small voice of hope that whispers within us.
We search for God and strive for faith, but find ourselves weak and empty. The days are dark and gloomy, even in the full sun, and the only thing that gets us through is the still-small voice of hope that whispers within us.
But then, like some sweet little melody that gets stuck in our head, the immediacy of God’s love returns—in a gorgeous, starstruck sky, or from the fullest mountain breeze on our back. God’s presence overwhelms us. Everywhere we look, we see God—in each place and on every face. And God’s voice tells us that God has never been farther away than the very hairs on our head. As sure as summer and as right as rain, God’s faithfulness to us fills us again.
By experiencing God anew, we are restored to the truth of who Christ is. It is inescapable and unavoidable that Jesus Christ loves us, even though it is far easier to believe otherwise. It rightly pains us, grieves us, to think that Christ could love us, given what we’ve done. Yet this is precisely why he loves us: Christ’s unconditional love for us breaks us, and it must. Only then can we truly live in him.
This does not mean that we are free from seasons in the wilderness of the spirit. As Christ was sent there first, so too will we. But just as Christ went into the wilderness before us, Christ goes with us; his love carries us through. No matter what the wilderness is that we face—our jobs, our debts, our dues—we do not have to face those things alone. Jesus Christ is with us at every turn.
If we are presented with solitude, let us celebrate the time we can focus our hearts on Christ. If we are enveloped by chaos, let us thank God that Christ guides our footsteps through the storm. And if we are given time with the people we adore, let us only love them more in the way Christ loves us. So then will our “normal” lives be a faithful response to Christ.
Amen.
—Montreat, May 2006 (inspired by Lewis)
M e m o r i e s
It is, with some sadness, that I tell you the fact that life moves on upon life’s way. After greater experiences, more-sacred moments, unforgettable encounters, the effort we exert in prolonging those highs is, inevitably, exhausted by the details of life.
I think I began writing, at age 12, to chronicle this phenomenon, the experience of bliss transposed upon the necessity of motion. How do we respond to these stimuli, these incongruous events? Do we pause upon these moments at all, to deeply inhale their scent, or do we simply put them away and move on? I do not think I can answer that question for you; I believe we each must answer it for and about ourselves. As for me, though, I have answered, and have filled every empty page for the last twenty-two years with my response.
And so, again, I tell you my sad news that life, of its own course, will not bookmark the pages of your sacred days. If you dare and dream and desire to remember them, record in your mind and heart as I their every detail; drink in their substance and style and maybe some small detail, like a faint and pleasing perfume; make out your memory to come back to as proof of holiness and evidence of the divine in your life. Hone and sharpen and perfect your method, teach yourself your trade, in order to fully and rightfully remember these moments as they deserve.
So then, when life blurs the lines with its own content, you will not forget why those moments mattered. They will brilliantly alight in your mind’s eye each time you read them.
Amen.
—Montreat, youth conference (July 2009)
R e s p o n d i n g t o t h e W o r l d
I believe in an optimism which looks for the good in humanity and for the redemption thereof; one which accepts the challenges and crises and failures of the world not as signs of the world’s end, but as causes in which to invest all the good of Christ’s love and justice in action. I do not wring my hands together nor pray fervently for the end times; I look instead at the present to determine what I, we, can do for a more Christ-like present and a more Godly future.
I believe it is fundamentally our task, as followers of Jesus Christ, to engage the world, to accept its struggles as our own, to include all its people as our sisters and brothers; to strive actively in the world to bring about God’s kingdom, the New Earth, herein. I do not look upon the nations’ failures with despair nor disdain; I look instead to the nations’ potential to effect the great changes we as humans must accomplish, the deeds we are called to in the name of Jesus.
If there is waste, greed, war, hatred, complacency, self-righteousness, let us not stand back and shake our heads; in so doing we are contributing to those sins. Let us instead bring the name of Christ to those evils, bring our faith to those fronts; let us meet them head-on with the conviction that Christ himself commands us to go to those fights.
And let us do so with the spirit of humility, inclusivity, compassion, and peace that Christ models, that Christ compels in us. Let us bring our light into the world which is hungry for the light.
Sisters, brothers, in Christ, it is very tempting, in the twenty-first century, to stand aghast at the evil in the world and think we can do nothing to combat it. Global destruction, ethnic extermination, multilateral disunity are uphill wars to fight. But if we remain on the sidelines, if we refuse to enter the fray, we are doing far greater evil than any of those things combined.
Christ’s message is clear: We are God’s people; This is God’s world; we are commanded to do something about it if we wish for God’s kingdom to come.
We cannot stand back, we cannot steer clear, we cannot just wait and pray for the end. We cannot pass the buck, pass off the chance, pass by other people, nor sell humanity down the creek. If Christ is to return in glory and usher in God’s New Earth in this world, we must not delay in doing our part. Now.
-–Nashville, summer 2010 (sparked by a conversation and inspired by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.)
