Have to

Recently I decided to give up "have to". Like I have to do the dishes before I go to bed. I have to brush my teeth three times a day. I have to be in a good mood when I see my friends. I'm not giving up a lot. I'm not a big have to person anyway. Well, so I thought. It really changes how I think about things. I don't have to do the dishes, but I am going to do the dished because I like a clean kitchen. I don't have to call someone, but I enjoy hearing what is new. I don't have to do the laundry, but I would prefer to wear clean clothes. Sometimes I prefer to just put on the dirty jeans.
What has happen is finding the joy behind some of the things I thought were "have to's". And finding the freedom to just let things go. Usually the consequence won't be that bad, which is another freeing thought.
Another mind game to play with this is "what if" . What if I try blacksmithing? I may be bad at it. What if I'm bad at it? Then ...the other kids will laugh....no, probably not that. I am bad at blacksmithing, btw, but after a few frustrating classes I'm really starting to enjoy benind metal. Mine doesn't look at nice, but I'm not doing it to compare myself with other people.
So, in case someone out there is wondering why I'm not talking about theology with this post, I am. If Christ sets us free, then we should live in that freedom and not bind ourselves with new laws and rules and worries. It all comes back around to God.
Claim your freedom! Well, you don't have to, but you might like it.

Communion: The welcome table or a meal for insiders

Different churches has different policies for who is allowed to commune. They all have statements about why certain people are allowed at the table and while others aren't. But why should anyone be left out?
If Communion is the "foretaste of the feast to come" then everyone should be invited. Like the parable says invite everyone you see and go out to the streets and bring them in. It is a meal of Grace, undeserved. If Jesus is the host, then why are we putting regulations on it. Aren't we attempting to undo what Jesus was trying to do? Jesus came and shared meals with everyone.
It seems more natural to invite someone to a meal then to have then go through an initiation process (baptism) before they are allowed to eat. This makes communion a meal for insiders.
I've been baptized, and I'm a Christian, but if you want to evaluate my current level of faith before communion there are days I wouldn't be allowed. As I sit in the pew, I'm not sure what I believe or if the word Christian would accurate describe me, but I always take communion because I believe God is bigger than my doubts and the my neighbor has faith for me when mine is lacking.
So, when someone new walks into a church and feels compelled to participate in communion, even if they don't completely understand what it is about, I do not want them to be turned away. God is working in them, and we shouldn't let anything, our rules, misgivings, or tradition, get in the way.
Afterall, Christ is the host of the meal and is present, so let him decided who can come and eat. As far as I can tell, Jesus ate with lots of people and you didn't have to jump through any hoops to be invited.

I don't believe in Santa God

I remember very distinctly when I did believe in Santa. Santa was this amazing person who knew things about me and all children. Santa cared about me. Santa knew my Christmas Eve schedule, so that the presents would be delivered each Christmas Eve while we were at church. Santa knew me well enough to know what presents to bring even though I never wrote a letter.

But then there was Jesus. Jesus seemed like a good man. He told great stories and healed people. For a short time I even believed he told these stories every Sunday at my church. After all, there was a guy up there in a white robe telling stories everyone listened to, he must be Jesus.

I struggled for a while about the difference between Santa and God. Both seemed to know a lot about me and preferred when I acted good, but could overlook some minor bad behavior as long as I was sorry. When my Sunday School teachers asked what the meaning of Christmas was REALLY about I knew the answer was Jesus. (Being me, however, and never wanting to give the answer I just sat there while the other kids said Santa and the teacher go annoyed that none of knew it was Jesus.)

I stopped believing in Santa, finally. And my concept of God has changed from when I was little and confused the two, but this has been a slow process and still is kinda confusing. Santa and God just seemed to become one person. All those years I heard about Santa it really seemed like I was hearing about God. Eventually, the two concepts became one, and old habits tend to die hard.

I'm sure I am not the only one who got confused. Think about these images of God. Old man in the sky watching over us. We pray for things and God delivers. God brings healing to the sick who are prayed for, but only sometimes. This is Santa by another name.

I no longer believe in Santa, and I no longer believe in Santa God.

(You'll have to wait to hear what I believe in.)

Proverbs of Ashes

Last summer I read the book Proverbs of Ashes. I'm finally getting around to writing something about it. First, I only recommend this book to those who do not mind reading about abuse. It is graphic and haunting and disgusting. It deals with the pain and suffering of abuse of women, especially those who have been told that it is their cross to bear.

I can only half believe that women are told that being beaten will bring them closer to Jesus and their suffering is a good thing. I say half believe not because I don't believe it happens, but because it is so far from how I relate to Christ and abuse and people that I can't put my head around it and figure out why someone would say it. It is just so far from anything I would think.

The book explores the messages of suffering we give people in the church and how it can be twisted into something so hurtful. So what to do with "take up your cross and follow" and "Jesus suffered and died and we should be like him."

It finally comes down to the question: "Is it life-giving?" Not all suffering is bad suffering. Sometimes suffering does bring life. But abuse doesn't fall in this category because it is not life-giving to either person. When Christ suffered and died, that wasn't the end of the story, there was Easter. Is there and Easter to this Good Friday should be how we look at suffering. If what we are doing brings about life then the suffering may be worth it.

Also, we are called to take up our cross and follow, not to hand out crosses. We can't justify making other people suffer, so that they can experience life later. We empty ourselves, so we can help someone else. We say in those moments that it isn't all about us, and I'm going to put aside my problems and worries and baggage so I can help you. I won't hand you a cross, but I will help you carry your load.

Unrelated Extra: I learned this week that both wood and fire are life-giving. Thanks for the insight.

Good Suffering

It's good to have bad things happen to you because it allows you to experience greater joy and happiness. You need to experience the opposite to really experience something great. Since some people are left out of the suffering loop perhaps I can help them out with this so they won't be left out of feeling the great joys in life. How could I bring about more suffering in the world and thereby bring about more happiness? Hmmm....

Where did this idea even come from?! And why is it so popular? Is it just one more way of trying to explain why bad things happen? I have not found any compelling reason for this line of thinking. It breaks down too easily, and seems like one of those cliches people say when they don't know what to say. It ranks up there with "everything happens for a reason." Really? Everything? What was the reason I had a late lunch today? What is the reason other people didn't have lunch today? (Wait, that is perhaps a different post.)

My experiences in life will be different than yours and will be colored with the lenses of my past, but the level of past pain doesn't necessarily equate with present pleasure and present pain doesn't mean I will have greater joy later. There is no one to one correlation, nor is it onto. (What's onto? It's one to one. What's one to one? It's onto.)

I could go on, but people give me a hard time if these posts get too long.

"I'm yours, save me."

Last Sunday I watched Luther, the newer movie about Martin Luther. The part that has really been sticking with me for the past week is the simple prayer "I'm yours, save me." Well, simple in the fact that it is just 4 words, but there is just so much packed into those words.

I'm yours. Confession that I belong to Christ. Promise that Christ has claimed me. Remembering that I am a child of God.

Save me. Cry for being made whole. Hope for what is to come. Hope that this moment will pass. Promise that Christ is with us in this moment and every moment.

When Luther is tormented this is the prayer he is given and repeats over and over. Last time I blogged that I was afraid of my prayers, and this one is not less scary but it is a prayer of trust. I don't know what my life will look like in the next moment, but I do know who I belong to and Christ has died to save me. So, I'm asking in it to be reminded of this promise at the same time I am remembering that to save me, God will change me.

Careful what I ask for

Something has been on my mind and it isn't a good something. It isn't important what it is, but it has occupied too much of my thoughts lately. It has brought out a pretty dark side. After being tormented by my own negative thoughts for about a week to the point that I was dreaming about it, I thought "Hey, maybe this is something I should pray about."
Before I go any further, I want to say that I see prayer more as a meditative process that connects us to the "life source" of the Universe which I call God. So, I start thinking about this problem and am meditating on coming to a solution and letting go when I stop. I realize what I'm doing is very dangerous. God could change me. That was what I had been praying for and that was what I thought I wanted until I realized that it could really happen.
God promises to change us. Promises to make me into the whole complete person I was created to be. But I don't want it. I like my sin. I didn't want to be changed. I didn't want to hand over my problem to God. I wanted to be angry a little longer. I wanted to feel righteous indignation. I wanted to complain and find fault and pretend I was the better person. I didn't want to let go. Its like wanting the last word in an argument. I wasn't ready to walk away from my feelings. I just wasn't quit done yet. I kinda disgust myself thinking about it.
I really do want to want for God to change me, but sometimes it is just too scary. Maybe before I pray about the problem that set me down this path, I should begin by praying to accept whatever will happen.
I really do hope I'm able to let go of this negativity soon.