Month: September 2012 (Page 3 of 4)

At the King’s table

Added to the list of things I love: teachings on classic Bible stories that reveal new insights about context, specifically culture. Shane Hipps never disappoints. As he was retelling the story of Daniel, I thought to myself, “I’ve heard this before. Except not about Daniel.” I had to wrack my brain a little but it finally came to mind: Esther. I’m completely enamored by her story, a slight little obsession. I think it’s my love of a good spa and her year of basically living in one.

I began to mull over the similarities of the stories. It became too large to track and my Bible Geek self resorted to an excel spreadsheet.

No seriously. (And my last 2 friends will suddenly be “busy” on all Saturday nights). 

After the forbidden worshiping, the stories begin to diverge and distinct differences rise to the top. Daniel stands firm and makes a statement. He boldly tells the King that his God can rescue him but if he doesn’t, God is no less powerful. Off to the lion’s den he goes as a testament of his allegiance.

In stark contrast to Daniel’s defiance we find Esther. Making dinner. Twice. Then she slips in that she’d really like her people to be rescued from the grip of looming death. Pretty please? If it were mere slavery, I wouldn’t bother you with such a matter.

A real scholar can provide insight into Biblical storytelling and narrative and how it powerfully spoke to the audience through both form and function, but I have none of those insights. I’m guessing these stories are similar for a reason. I believe that the commonalities reveal something about its nature. However, the distinct divergence from commonalities leaves me to question, as I’ve been doing with much of scripture, “What makes this remarkable? What does the different twist to this story reveal about the nature of God?”

I’m still in hypothesis-forming mode, but key to the story is when Uncle Mordi tells Esther, “Do not think that because you are in the king’s house you alone of all the Jews will escape. For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place, but you and your father’s family will perish. And who knows but that you have come to royal position for such a time is this?” (Emphasis mine. Singing it to the chorus of one of my favorite Helvetica is for Lovers songs).

Position. In the King’s house. Power and favor and loyalty and heritage and belonging and exiling and what does it mean to be faithful to God in this? What do we believe God’s faithfulness looks like?

I wonder if Esther’s hospitable approach had anything to do with the fact she was a woman. A young girl, at that. I wonder if a Daniel-inspired rebellion simply lived outside the bounds of possibility thanks to a culture that gave women such little status (read the first chapter and see how King Xerxes believed in a disposable nature of women). But at such a time as this, God can and will use any willing follower. Heroes of faith don’t only arise from the strong and strapping young gentlemen like Daniel, though he needs commended. The lowly, the least of these*, aren’t excluded from Kingdom work.

And kingdom work doesn’t just pick up a few stones or enter a den of lions. Kingdom work also makes dinner. It reminds the world that She’s beautiful and can be trusted.

Daniel and Esther remind me that there’s more than one way to convince a king. We can fight power with power and win. Or we can fight power with humility and win. God isn’t beyond any method; he just needs a willing heart to invade. He’s looking for a home for His spirit and how that seeps into the world around us cannot be controlled or reduced to a formula. God will move and he will save and he will do it through willing participants, asking them to pick up and use whatever tool is sitting next to them at the moment.

*Esther was also an orphan, a noted group within the “least of these”

I see starved people

Things I hate:

1. Chips in my ice cream
2. Times New Roman
3. When things don’t work with no apparent reason for breaking (ie, all of a sudden patchy Internet service).
4. When people don’t believe The Rules apply to them
5. When I read a book and feel so immensely challenged and crushed at the soul level and motivated to create change… And feel completely lost as to how to even get started. 
One of these happened recently, I’ll let you guess which one. 
Oh, okay. I’ll give a hint. I read You Lost Me, a Barna book about the mass exodus of young people in the church. I’m not normally a huge Barna fan, but this one grabbed me based on subject matter, timing and the fact they offered it free for my Kindle. Free things is on the list of things I love (along with time at the lake, wine, car time and New Sheet Night). 
The book challenged me to examine my previous work with young people and see the holes. But is also provokes me to want to change the tide. In many ways I resonated with te sentiments of many who are not able to find a home in the church, I’ve just not yet been provoked to the point of giving up (and honestly, I don’t know if I can. I’m too in love with Her to simply give up hope. At times I think we miss that the Church can be a bit prodigal as well, yes?). 
But back to my 5am frustrations. I’m not finished with the book and all I want to do is run out and find some 17-year-old and hug her and tell her that together we can seek and discover they ways in which Jesus’ kingdom is right here if we just squint our eyes just right and engage our imaginations in the ways which we can join in. 
And then the Practical Beast rears her head and says, “so, how will you do that? Where will you meet this maiden? How does this story even start?” and I simply don’t know. Because, back to 2 paragraphs ago, we’re simply not built for this. 
I think to my own recent experiences of church. After one year in a new town, we’re on our third attempt to engage with a body and feel so incredibly thirsty. Each and every church we’ve attempted I took the pro-active approach. I emailed. I asked to meet with a person in leadership. I offered to participate in the ways which fit. And continually instead of connecting with people with like-interests or being introduced to avenues of joining forces, I’ve received invitations to meetings. Or classes. Or a three step process of uncovering my place. 
Can someone just give me a freaking teenager who is chomping at the bit to explore God’s ways with the world? Introduce me, share that I love to read and talk and perhaps we can do coffee/ice cream/dessert some time and then send. Send us on our merry little way. 
I realize I’m slightly short of the norm. I know much of the free world doesn’t know their giftings or interests, but I can tell you a better way to discover them: meet the person. In a real conversation about their experiences. Watch them get revved up about a topic and say, “let me introduce you to ______. He’s currently trying to ______ and I think you’d really be able to help.” 
As churches both flounder in engaging members in service and strive for hospitality, I say the two are holding hands, playing ring-around-the-rosie and we’re busy trying to find the best coffee bar or gift card. As a person who doesn’t want to simply consume but hungrily wants to contribute something, somewhere to someone, I advise you of this: ask. Us. To. Lunch. 
Stop telling us how wonderful your church is and ask me if we’re willing to get our hands dirty. And not just in taking a turn in the nursery (though, fine, I will pay my dues there) simply because I use the service. Find 3 passions and look at how one of those meets a need in your circumstance. Not to serve the church: to serve people. 
I say this in the most loving and compassionate voice I can muster.  But my lip is quivering. Puh-push-puh-please? 
I cannot speak on behalf of all people. I can barely speak on behalf of “young adults” as I barely fit into the demographic. But after reading and resonating, I feel I can accurately say that a larger population of us exist, that seek substance of relationship and service over a good morning production. 

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Growing old with you

Today my baby sister turns 30. She walks across that line that officially marks her old. And of course, she’d do it no other way than pregnant.

Ang is the type of person to accept this marker gracefully. I don’t think she shirks the age; she accepts it and buys boots to match. Her bold confidence goes where my quiet insecurities have never dared to venture. 
I’ve spent time reflecting on my fortunate position of having a sibling I love and trust and enjoy spending time with, especially through the bond of sisterhood. I realize not everyone came into the world with family that calls  nearly daily to discuss the triviality that makes up our current lives. I live with confidence that the person on the other end does actually care about the consistency of the poop or correct substitution method of eggs. 
I told a friend recently that Angie’s love language is research. If something is going on in your life, specifically an ailment of the physical nature, she will look and look until a suggestion can be made on your behalf. Sometimes it seems completely absurd. Sometimes you wonder if such a small adjustment could really make a difference. 
But with each and every bit of wisdom and knowledge, you can be confident of this: she wants you to live nothing short of a whole life. Her father’s daughter, Angie doesn’t want someone to miss out on living this great adventure because an option has been left unexplored. 
Angie lives with an unconquerable spirit. She’s part of the 20, not the 80, doing the hard work of avoiding complacency. Where most of us say “good enough” Angie challenges, “but why not more?” 
I have a sister that sees the world as big, beautiful and full of blessings. She sees the diversity of others’ experiences as a means to expand her options and seek the very best. Common, normal and standard are hurdles for her to jump because she knows that a richness lives on the other side, waiting to be explored. She sifts through the muck in order to find that nugget of beauty. 
So, today I celebrate the beautiful woman Angie has become and is becoming. In Hebrew culture, the women would cheer “eshet chayil” (Woman of Valor/Strength/”noble character”) to one another as they met the world head-on and won (sort of a kosher you go girl!). I echo those words of praise
“Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all.” 
Charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting, but a woman who fears the Lord shall be praised. 
Honor her for the things she has done and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.


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