Backing the [Theological] Truck Up

Every now and then, something happens that makes me realize that sometimes, I need to back the theological truck up.  Recently, a friend of mine asked me a question that reminded me that going back to the "basics" is sometimes a good thing to do, so I'm doing that instead of posting more Christmas messages from years past.

This friend wrote me a message asking me what I mean by "grace."  Despite growing up in church, this friend never really got the concept of grace and other religious talk and ended up leaving the church before really learning what these theological concepts mean.  So, without further ado, let me give you a stab at what "grace" means, especially since the title of my blog would infer that it's kind of important to me...here's some of what I wrote to my friend (I've done a little revising):

The watered-down definition of grace that a lot of people use is "God's unmerited favor." There's a lot more to say about it than that, though. Grace is the way we refer to God's work in the world that is making all things new and all things right and all things whole again, from the brokenness the world exists in.

Now, I can only write to you from a perspective on grace that is related to John Wesley's theology, as his is foundational for United Methodists, and I'm United Methodist by choice, not really by chance, at this point.  John Wesley said we experience God's grace in three different ways or kinds or movements. There's prevenient grace, which is God's grace at work before we even realize it. Often, when we look back and see where God was working in us or around us and we didn't even know it, that is prevenient grace--grace that goes before. We believe that God is always wooing us back to God, no matter what. God wants to be in relationship with us and will stop at nothing to try to help us see that, though, with free will, we are always able to say "No" to God and refuse the grace that is offered to us.

So, then, once we begin to understand how God is at work and realize that God wants us to know God (seriously, I know it sounds awkward not to use "him," but gender-specific pronouns for God get on my nerves...), we may realize that we need God, that God's grace is more than we can find from worldly pursuits, etc., etc. When we accept God's grace and decide to seek after God and not anything else, when we realize our need to be forgiven and redeemed, we experience justifying grace. Some folks call this "getting saved." It's often referred to as "conversion." For a lot of people, this seems to be the only kind of grace that matters, but not for those of us who see grace from a Wesleyan perspective...

Once we experience being justified by responding to God's offer of forgiveness and redemption (being made more valuable through the saving grace of Christ and the righteousness offered through it), we experience God's grace, still, as we are being made perfected in Christian love. This is sanctifying grace--that grace that makes us more holy, more like Jesus, more like God created us and called us to be.

At this point, I stop to ask my friend if this is all making sense, and the reply is that sanctifying grace seems tough to grasp.  Let me explain a little more, then:

Sanctifying grace is kind of more like what helps us become more faithful Christians. I guess we'd say it's the way the Holy Spirit lends a hand, while we are trying to walk the walk of being Christian.

Oh, and "Christan perfection" is a tricky term. What John Wesley said was that we are being changed into people who love with the selfless love of God, so reaching "perfection" means that all we do is motivated by that kind of love, not something else. It doesn't mean we wouldn't make mistakes, but that our motives would be pure. He also didn't believe that most people reach Christian perfection in this life--it's something that is completed when we are made whole again in heaven with God (that is probably not at all the right wording.)

Now, you theology mavens out there can comment here and tell me what I'm missing or where I've gone wrong.  I don't claim to be an expert, but I think this explanation was helpful to my friend, so maybe there's someone else out there who would find it useful...and maybe I need to check myself before Sunday morning's sermon and remember that some things about faith aren't supposed to be so much mystery!!  Tell me what you think, friends!

Some Christmas Thoughts

Here's my message from Christmas Eve.  I had meant to post it before now, but you know how things go this time of year...with any luck, I'll share some other Christmas Eve and Longest Night thoughts from years past (though because of the demise of my flash drive, I will be retyping each one of them, not just copying and pasting), before Christmas is over next Monday!  And then, who knows what I'll write about...

“For Me?!”

Christmas Eve Homily 2013

When we got ready to go to the first party of the season this year, we tried to explain to our two-year-old that we were going to a Christmas party…and his response was, “A birthday party?  For ME?!”  Needless to say, as you might expect with a two-year-old, we have a little ways to go before we completely understand the concept of Christmas parties, or the “real” meaning of Christmas, at all!

But as we read the Christmas story, we see a whole host of people asking that same question, “For ME?!”  In part of the story that we didn’t read tonight, Zechariah asked the angel, “For ME?!” when the angel told him he would have a son, who would become John the Baptist.  Unfortunately for Zechariah, asking that question got him 9 months of no speaking!  When the angel came to Mary she asked, “For ME?!” and then proclaimed her obedience to God, in the face of certain scandal and questioning by the people around her, when she was found to be with child.

When the angel showed up in the middle of a dark and quiet night, to some dirty shepherds out in a field, that angel didn’t wait for the shepherds to ask, “For ME?!”  The angel said, “I am bringing you news of great joy for all people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.  This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” (Luke 2:11-12)  And then all the angels showed up in full force, to make sure the shepherds got the point—something BIG had happened—for them, and for all people!

We should know that this news is for all of us, and makes a difference in our lives.  We should know that God has given a sign to us, that the world would never be the same after the birth of that one baby boy.  But sometimes, instead of knowing that the news and the gift are for all of us, even us sinners, we ask, “For ME?!” because we don’t think we could accept such a gift.  We don’t think we are worth such an offer as a Savior, as God-with-us, just like sometimes we don’t accept someone else’s Christmas gift because it seems too much for us.  But the good news of Christ is for us, for all of us, and there is nothing God wants more than for us to accept that good news and the gift of grace.

Now, sometimes when we ask, “For ME?!” we think it’s something we don’t need.  We forget that we need to accept the gift of Christ’s grace, that God isn’t offering us a bonus of some sort, but something our very souls have been longing for—the opportunity to be made right with God, the grace that is greater than all our sins.  The good news of Christmas isn’t just a nice message or a frivolous “extra” offered to us by God, but the one and only thing we’ve been needing for longer than we even knew.

Other times, we forget that Christmas isn’t actually about us, but it is for us.  Though the story of Christmas, as scripture tells it, includes a large cast of characters and we learn some very intriguing things about many of them, it is really about God’s work in their lives and in the world through their lives.  When we lose perspective and forget about that, we can also forget that Christ came for all people, not as a gift some deserved for being extra good.  The most important person in the story is the one who comes without words, without being able to do anything for himself, the child who was promised, the child who is announced by angels, who comes for us all.

His birth was announced first to those who were outcasts and commoners—shepherds—and not to powerful rulers.  So they went to check the facts, Luke tells us, and then they went to tell others: “When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them.” (Luke 2:17-18)  It was a grass roots effort, the night that Christ was born—some old dirty shepherds had the news to share, and the people wouldn’t have known if the shepherds hadn’t told it.  And then, Luke says, “The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.” (Luke 2:20)

So yes, Christmas is for me and for you!  We don’t have to ask and wonder.  We don’t have to feel like we’re not good enough for Christ to come for us.  We don’t have to think we’re not ready enough for Christ to come for us.  When we hear the story again, the amazing, incredible, crazy story about a baby who comes to save us all, who is God right here with us, we don’t have to ask, “For ME?!”  Like the shepherds, we can know that it’s true and praise God for the wonder of it all.

But there’s one other thing I should tell you about what my son has been up to recently.  He has also taken to taking things out of the shopping cart when we’re in a store somewhere, and handing them to people who walk by, saying, “For YOU!”  And once we know the story, and remember again that it is the story of God at work, come to save all of us, we are sent out to do like those shepherds did, to tell others and let them know the story is, “For YOU!”

Will you come and receive the Christ tonight, born in a manger, God-with-us, come to save us all?  Will you come and believe the story again, no matter how many times you have heard it before?  And then, will you go and share it with others, praising God for God’s mighty and wondrous deeds, at Christmas and always?

Looking for Light

This was my meditation for my Longest Night of the Year Service on the 21st.  I always really appreciate having that service and doing some writing for it.  I'll probably post last year's meditation, whenever I get a chance to type it up--I lost a lot of my files from the past several years when my flash drive died recently... 

“Looking for Light” 

Longest Night Meditation 2013

Matthew 2:9-10

 Brock, Benjamin, and I were returning home one evening recently, and as we rounded a curve in the subdivision, the lights at one house clicked off.  We realized as we drove down the street that the power was out all the way down the street, but just on one side of it.  We were thankful to arrive at home and find that our power was on, though I know our neighbors were not nearly as pleased, as they sat in the dark across the street.  It was comforting to see the lights of home.

We’ve heard some of the story of the wise men tonight.  They were people looking for light and longing for home, like us in some ways, though they followed a star in the sky, which I doubt many of us have done.  Yes, perhaps the wise men weren't unlike us. Sure, they had purpose and they were excited about the mission they were on. They looked forward to seeing this king that they had been searching for, for so long. But they were probably also weary, tired of wandering and tired of wondering when they would get to where they were going. They had spent so long looking at a light up in the heavens; perhaps they were more than ready to find a welcoming light on earth below. Their journey had involved untold peril. They could not have known when they started out just what they were in for. Maybe it was a surprise to them to run across Herod, this nutty king who seemed, at best, a little bi-polar in his response to their request for help finding this new king. It had been a long, strange trip, indeed.

            And yet, Matthew tells us that when they arrived at the house--possibly after two or three years of travel, two or three years of wondering if this was all worth it—and they saw that the star had stopped, they were overjoyed. They were overjoyed! What else could they be? They could be disappointed because they had found some plain old little Jewish boy and his mom, but they weren’t. They could be confused, thinking this was surely not the right place, but they didn't stop and just ask for directions. The light they had been looking at for so long finally came to rest somewhere. They were overjoyed!

            We have nearly come to Christmas. We may have been chasing after joy in parties and presents, this whole time. We may have been on the outside, looking in, thinking everyone else knew the joy of the season and we were left out. Tonight, with the wise men (though they won't show up for quite some time, really!), let us rejoice to see that the journey we have been on, the journey we will continue to travel on, has been worth it. The darkness has not won. Just like for the wise men, the distractions and the dangers along the way have not overpowered us.  We have come this far, and we are still standing. And lest we be tempted to lose hope, even now, even as we have nearly made it through the longest night of the year, yet again, we hear again the words from the first chapter of John.

"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. ²He was in the beginning with God. ³All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being ⁴in him was life, and the life was the light of all people.⁵The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

⁹The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world."

~John 1:1-5, 9 (NRSV)

I guess it’s not surprising that we would talk about light and darkness a lot at this time of year, when we experience so much literal darkness.  And the Christmas story reminds us all about the difference between light and darkness.  We may just find ourselves in spiritual darkness, as well as physical darkness, this time of year.  And the promise is that no matter how much darkness we may feel like we’re sitting in, it cannot overcome the light that is Christ, shining into all the darkness.

The light that we have been looking for has arrived. There is no darkness in our lives great enough to put it out. There has never been, nor will there ever be. When we think we are in the midst of the pit, the light shall still be shining. When we think we are lost along the way, the light does not leave us to grope blindly in the dark. No, despite all our cares and the darkness that seems to set in, the light has, in fact dawned. We don't always recognize him. We don't always hear his voice. But he remains: God with us. Emmanuel. The very king the wise men traveled so far to see: God with us. The light of the world.

Let us, too, be overjoyed this Christmas, not because we have no sorrow, not because we feel no heartache, and not because we experience no pain. Let us, too, be overjoyed with the wise men because, at last, the one who came as just a baby is, indeed, the light we have been looking for. There is light in the darkness. New day will dawn again. And the light we have been looking for will be light to all people, that no darkness will ever extinguish.  Thanks be to God.  Amen.

"You're Doing It Wrong"

My husband has recently taken to using the comment, "You're doing it wrong," when something becomes more difficult than it should be or doesn't turn out right, etc.  Sometimes, it's funny.  Sometimes, it's true.  As I've considered the last week in my life, I've needed this phrase at times.

The last week has brought considerable rejection and disappointment for me.  On Friday evening, I found myself in such a funk that I had let that rejection and disappointment get to me, and I was upset with my husband, frustrated about our pets' behavior, tired, not feeling well, and at a loss for what to do next, in the face of what I'd been trying to deal with for the two days beforehand.  As I sat in bed, ruminating, I thought to myself, "Betzy, you're doing it wrong."  I mean, really, look at the title of this blog--"The Ubiquity of Grace."  I didn't just choose that name because I wanted to give the word "ubiquity" more play time in my everyday vocabulary.  I really believe that God's grace is showing up all the time, even when we don't notice it.  Now, I'm still not quite over grieving the loss of some opportunities I was really, really hoping for, but at least on Friday night, when I finally admitted to myself, "Betzy, you're doing it wrong," I realized that God is walking with me through this, and there's grace enough...even when the baby has bronchitis again and the dog pees on the carpet and I don't get to be involved in the ministry I wanted to do.

But that's not all that I thought about.  In the midst of this disappointment, several well-meaning folks have said things to me like, "God has something better in store for you."  Now, I don't claim to know the mind of God, that's for sure.  I have spent the last 10 or so years of my life doing a lot of discerning of where I think God is calling me to be, though.  So I've realized after hearing people's responses to my loss that I need to be more careful about how I respond to other people's disappointment and loss, myself.  I think we all say things sometimes that make us feel better, but we don't realize how much they don't make the person hearing them feel better.  If I find myself going to the default of, "God has something better planned," I hope I'll remember to tell myself, "Betzy, you're doing it wrong."  When we hurt, sometimes we need the caring people in our lives to give us space to grieve for a bit, let us walk through the pain and find God's grace in it...

There is certainly a time for anticipating and expecting how God will bring us to something new and wonderful, but man, I really, really thought maybe that's what God was doing just then...and I'll get to the anticipation.  I know I will.  And I hope that when I'm dealing with someone else who's hurting, I won't have to tell myself, "You're doing it wrong," because I will have learned a lesson in all this, by the grace of God.

Welcome Back (to me!)!

It's been a while since I posted on this blog.  You might notice the new name and URL.  The French Broad Circuit, which I served when I began this blog, no longer exists.  Bethel UMC and French Broad UMC are both on their own now, and I pastor elsewhere.  I look forward to sharing some thoughts on this blog on a more regular basis, not as a website for a church, but just as a blog for those who have the time to read.  I hope I'll have the time to write something worth reading!  Thanks for stopping by.  I'll be posting again soon!

An Ash Wednesday Meditation (a little late)

Here are my thoughts from Ash Wednesday, last week. I thought I'd share them here, as we continue on our Lenten journey this year...

It’s Gonna Take All of Us!

Ash Wednesday Meditation

March 9, 2011

Joel 2:1-2, 12-17; Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

The contemporary Christian music group Jars of Clay released an album last fall called “The Shelter,” with songs based on an Irish proverb, “It is in the shelter of each other that the people live.” Though Ash Wednesday and the call to observe a Holy Lent is in many ways about personal penitence and self-examination, it takes all of us to get through the journey from now to Easter.

Our scripture lesson from Matthew calls us to remember that our acts of piety, of personal discipline, are best performed out of the limelight. We are not called to make a big show of our piety. We are not called to bring attention to the things we sacrifice during Lent, or the ways we make changes in our lives. But we are called to make changes during Lent. Whether you may give up a favorite food or spend more time than usual studying scripture, doing something different is a big part of observing Lent.

The reason we do something different at Lent is not because it makes us better than people who don’t observe the season. We take time to offer ourselves to God in a new way during Lent, to let God work on us in different ways from the “norm,” to make us into the people God is calling us to be. It is a time of self-examination—we may find stuff we don’t like about ourselves, and that “stuff” may be exactly what God is working on changing at this time. We need to take time to pray, fast, study scripture, and get into the disciplines of our faith, during Lent, if during no other time in the year.

But we come to church on Ash Wednesday to worship together. We sit together, while we hear the call to observe a Holy Lent. We covenant together to embark on this journey toward Easter—toward the celebration our own redemption, our own hope, once again. We are truly always on a journey, but during Lent, perhaps, we realize it more than at any other time of the year. And it’s gonna take all of us to get through it! The prophet Joel told the people to come together, to fast together, to call a solemn assembly, in order to get God’s attention. It would take the whole community—newborn babies and the “chronologically gifted”—meeting together, crying out to God, for their redemption, for forgiveness, for hope for the future. And Joel says, maybe, just maybe, if we all get together and meet in God’s house, God will hear us and turn back to us and change our situation.

The Israelites knew that they were in this thing together. As much as each individual was responsible for living up to the expectations (laws) of the faith, they were God’s chosen people, together. As we face our own mortality this Lent, our own sin, our own need to confess and be turned by God back onto the right paths, we come and do that together. The road ahead of us, through Lent, through unseen trials and temptations of any season, may not look easy. We may get tired. And that is why we remember that we go through Lent together. “It is in the shelter of each other that the people live.” Members of our faith community are already going through difficult times, and we are called to be their shelter, as people who all need forgiveness, change, and hope.

This Lenten season, make your personal commitment to the disciplines God is calling you to. Learn to practice your piety with sincere motives, in private places, for God, not the whole world, to know. But find at least one other person to help keep you accountable, too. And remember, we are all still in this together. It’s gonna take all of us to get through this—and we’ll come out on the other side of Lent rejoicing—together. The song says it this way:

Come away from where you’re hiding

Set aside the lies that you’ve been living

May this place of rest in the fold of your journey

Bind you to hope that we will never walk alone

If there is any peace, if there is any hope

We must all believe, our lives are not our own

We all belong

God has given us each other

And we will never walk alone

None of us will do a perfect job with our Lenten disciplines this year, most likely. We may find ourselves complaining about whatever we’ve decided to do or not do. We may completely forget about it, some day. But we have come together tonight to commit to trying to be different people, at the end of these 40 days, and it will take all of us together to make that happen. If you received ashes on Ash Wednesday, or even if you didn’t, know that you are human and sinful, made from dust—as the ashes remind us, but also God’s—marked by God’s own sign. And we are in this together. Let’s go through this journey, together, with God at our side the whole way.

Presenting...Jesus!

I learned this morning that February 2nd is the day the church traditionally observes the presentation of Christ in the temple. Luke describes this significant moment in Luke 2:22-40, when Mary and Joseph bring Jesus to the temple, with the "poor people's" offering of two doves. There, they encounter the priest Simeon and the prophetess Anna, who both proclaim amazing things about this baby boy. Can you imagine what it was like to be Simeon and Anna, to know you've been waiting for something for almost your whole life, and to finally behold it with your own eyes?! What a thrill! What a wonder! But what was it like for Mary and Joseph? Sure, they'd heard from angels, and lots of crazy things had happened, that should have clued them in that this child was not any ordinary child, but to hear it from the mouths of two different people, in the temple, when they came just to do an ordinary ceremony? I bet it was scary. I bet they wondered what they were in for. I wonder if they doubted, if they were uncertain of what to do next. I think I would have been, if I were in their shoes.

Isn't it kind of like that for each of us, after we learn who Jesus really is? We may wonder at the stories we read and hear, and we may try to wrap our minds around a Savior of the universe who could come and be born as a little baby, just like each one of us. And then, when we read what he taught and we see how he lived, we're just a bit uncomfortable. We might read Anna and Simeon's claims and wish that we, too, could be so sure, could feel the Spirit so strongly as to be certain of who this Jesus is. Our faith is always a journey. Sometimes we know who Jesus is, are sure he is Lord of our lives, and then other times we stumble and feel like he's left us behind. Sometimes we can proclaim his good news, can know for certain the salvation he offers, and other times, feel like we're completely unsalvageable.

But Jesus is still there. He's still all the things Simeon and Anna claimed he was. He's still offering us grace and love, asking us to change our hearts and lives and follow him. It's never easy, but it's a blessing to try.

Who is Jesus, in your life? I pray for his peace for you today, friends. Let him be what scripture claims him to be...and follow him along the way. He'll surprise you, I bet. But he'll also be right there with you, no matter what. Thanks be to God. Amen.