Month: September 2012 (Page 2 of 4)

Christmas. Not only am I aware of the gifts I must give people in my life, but now I must make them all by hand. With printable tags. Wrapped in burlap. Do you know what Pinterest is doing to the price of burlap?

Printables. Apparently I’m no longer allowed to label with dry erase marker or the old tape-on-with-paper method? I must instead find a cute tag, print it with high-quality resolution colored ink and cut along the dotted lines? Most recent fail: LUNCH NOTE printables. Seriously does the kid hate bad fonts as much as I do? And if so, why are printables using TNR? I resist these out of principle. If you’re going to write a note to your kid, write a note. Not a mad lib.

Food. We’re making it harder than it needs to be, people. You’re making us all look bad when it’s not enough just to celebrate the simple act of making cookies. It seems making them edible isn’t enough (even with the added layer: gluten-free, refined-sugar free, some other form of reducing guilt). Apparently now I have to stamp them to make them pretty? I think the cookies sitting on the plate make them pretty enough.

Upcycling. I love the concept. In theory. The problem is that I never have the supplies on hand. Projects requiring old tshirts and the like? If they’re able to be “upcycled” it means that they lack 3 square inches without stains. Especially the furniture upcycles. I simply don’t have old pallets or bookshelves sitting around in my backyard. To upcycle will actually cost me money. Thus defeating the purpose.

Birthday parties. We were fortunate to have one for Baby C this year. Her first. We ended up with cake, plates and people showed up. Total win in my book. But apparently I missed the mark. I didn’t have a build-your-own station, nor was anything celebratory hanging from the chandelier. (I did however blow up 20 balloons. I think they liked them better than the pom-pom letters, right?) And favors? Pshhh. I THREW A PARTY. YOU ATE CAKE. I’LL BE CLEANING FOR 3 DAYS AFTER YOU LEAVE. (*Thanks, Jen Hatmaker, for blowing the lid off that party foul).

The people of Judah are seized by Babylon and marched out of their home country. Once situated in the new land, the king does a once-over of the strapping young lads, chooses the strongest and best looking and takes them to the palace. In 3 years, he says, we’re going to see what you’re made of. 

So 4 of the Israelite men are given new names and sat before a buffet each day, but it’s not Kosher. So Daniel says, “no way, Jose” (even though the guy’s name was Ashpenaz). Ash worries about his own head and what might become of him when his team underperforms because they lack strength. So they do a trial run for 10 days. At the end of the extended week, Daniel and his friends looked better than those taking from the Kings table.

Clearly, the moral of the story is:

A) God wants us to be vegetarians

B) God did a miracle by strengthening Daniel & his men while they meat-fasted

C) God wanted to reiterate why Kosher rules existed

D) God revealed a constant truth about his Kingdom

At different points in my life, I would answer this quiz with each of the responses. However, my leanings more consistently have been an attitude of B, that “oh my goodness, look what God did to protect them!” I’ve maintained a posture of awe toward the event. But with a year of my eating habits under the microscope, my eyes have been opened to a new view. 

Watch any toddler consume a meal and our nature is revealed: eat what you like, first, so when you get full (or you really don’t like the other dish), you can simply quit before you finish. And snack later, of course.  What we need and what we like typically involve two different food groups. We fill up on one at the sake of the other. 

In this culture, meat didn’t happen for 3 square meals a day. I remember translating something in Hebrew 3 class and the prof was getting us to understand the context – he said, “And what time of the year was it? Meat-eatin’ time!” A carnivorous meal typically indicated a feast of some sort. Like all great parties, you get out good stuff. (See? Meat’s not evil.)

The trouble with our lives – and what this story in Daniel reveals – is that we tend to think everything is an occasion to feast. I know because I am Queen of the Justification Strategy. Especially when it involves food. Like a cream cheese dip. 

While no harm lies in honoring the small moments of life that bring us great joy, danger lurks when we elevate the significance. We begin to seek the joy instead of the gift. We become little blessing-mongrels, wondering when the next best thing might happen to us, ready to raise our glass. 

Nothing is wrong with raising our glass. Until it doesn’t mean anything anymore. 

What if constant feasts starve us? 

What if we’re consuming so much and it means so little that instead of making us stronger, faster, smarter and better, it’s simply fattening us up? Like Daniel and his friends, if we trimmed down and put the meat in the right place – celebrations of what God has done, not what We have done – then we live at the optimal point where we flourish. 

No need to live like a vegetarian. No need to eat like a heathen. Just putting the right things in the right place. Not just on our plates, but in our lives. 

It’s a natural phenomenon, to remember and relive, even such horrific events. Our country bore a tragedy together which shaped us individually and as a nation. We tell one another, “Never forget” but do we know why? Not just to honor the victims, though they deserve a place in prayer and reflection. But I think remembering 9/11 goes deeper than a national holiday. I think our experience of September 11th exposed something we didn’t realize had anything to do with the message of Jesus. 

Last night after reflecting on Esther and Daniel, I let it sink in how they were living in captivity, mastered by another people group and government. I realized how within the story of the people of God lies a strand of struggle against control and power and oppression. Being a 21st century American, it’s a piece of the Gospel puzzle that I – we – simply cannot fully wrap our minds around. 

God begins his work with Abraham, promising him a nation and a land. A place to call home. A land where he would reap what he sewed, and would eat what he planted. Throughout the story of Issac, Jacob, Joseph, Moses and Joshua the people of God journeyed toward what they hoped would be sovereignty.  Fast forward and they finally find themselves in the Promised Land. It’s good for a while, until the people forget God. So the Babylonians move in, take over and haul them out of their own country to be slaves. 

All of this makes for great story behind a pulpit or on a flannel board, but I just don’t think we completely fathom what was happening. Another country, another king, marched in, killed a bunch of their men, tore families from their homes and their gardens and their schools and their neighbors, and took them someplace else so they could be servants. Even after the nation of Israel is allowed to return, remnants don’t make it back, such as Esther. 

We were born into freedom. I’m not much of a flag waver, but I think those of us who follow Jesus owe our predecessors a bit more regard than what we often realize. And not just those who fought and are fighting; but a realization that we are living a part of the Gospel promise. 

American Christianity lacks a firm understanding of how the gospel of Jesus freed us not just from sin (though it did) but it paved the way to living free of a master. Unlike Daniel and Esther, we live free of fear from someone mandating we bow down to anything other than what we believe to be true. We are truly able to serve only God. 

The events of 9/11 shook us because for it introduced to our generation the concept that freedom is not a guarantee. We can be tormented and attacked. Someone could – and did – cross our boundaries and threaten the promises we often take for granted. 

For the people of God, they lived 9/11 occurrences frequently. Some, for their entire existence, lived under a foreign regime. Don’t you suffer shortness of breath to think about what if Al Quida had won and conquered? What if bin Laden had somehow gained control? That same anxiety is what generations and generations of people woke up to each and every day. I’m sure somewhere, some still do. 

I believe only imagining those situations will lead us in the direction of the fullness of what Jesus did. His entire life was under Roman rule. He spoke of power and authority and freedom and love because it was very real to his situation. 

Nowadays we cannot fathom what he really meant because we have no collective memory of such a life. So we align our Biblical freedoms to that of freedom from sin, freedom from legalism and a very moralist vein emerges. And while those things are true (we are free from sin and legalism), it is also true that we are free from oppressive powers. 

September 11th needs to remain “forever in our hearts” because it scratched an old wound we forget existed. But we cannot stop there: if we are living the hope of so many generations, a freedom from oppression, then what will we do with it? 

Right now we take that freedom and argue about taxes and medical terminology. And while those discussions have its place, I believe followers of Jesus should get a bit more serious about using our place of privilege (much like Esther and Daniel) and go about the work of extending the Kingdom of God to others. And not just in a have-a-tract, say-a-prayer, have-a-blessed-day kind of way. And certainly not using a typical American, because-our-way-is-the-best-way approach. If the freedom from oppression can and did become reality, then we have to believe that the rest of what Jesus said could be true. 

Perhaps we need to get serious about the things which continue to torment God’s beloved in the rest of the world. Perhaps our little city on a hill should shine its light into the evils that plague other places, rather than just sitting so cozy in our safe little haven. And not politically (because I firmly believe that God didn’t grant us freedom so we can occupy someone else), but living justly, loving mercy and walking humbly in the many large and small ways that can change lives everywhere.  

**Patriot Day is a political, American holiday – no matter one’s faith belief. I’m not taking something that belongs to everyone in the US and saying it’s only for Christians. I am saying that those of us who follow Jesus need to also realize that the events of 9/11 have deeper implications. I’m saying that when we cry watching the footage for the 11th time it’s for a reason – and not only an American one, but a human one, one that Jesus spoke to. All faith beliefs belong to our occasion of remembering.