Persecution

I’ve been talking about the life of a Christian and how persecution and comfort effect that life.

Persecution is nothing new.  We can go back to before Christ was born, before God’s people begged to be like other nations and have a human king. In the time of the Judges, the people would grow complacent in their lives, accept the ways of the world and drift away from God.  Then enemies would come to ravage the people and their land.  What was the inevitable response?  A cry to the Lord.  In His faithfulness, He would accept them back, save them from themselves.

He continued to do this through the time of the human kings. This is phenomenal to me because just having a king was a rejection of God.  How faithful He is to our unfaithful hearts. 

Jesus arriving in human form didn’t stop the persecution.  We see Romans 8:28 play out time and again throughout ‘modern’ history.  The church adopts the ways of the world.  We might start out by christinaizing a practice, dressing it up and making it look good.  But soon we throw off even that sham.  Soon no one can tell the church from the rest of the world to save the church’s life—literally. 

Then comes the persecution.  Honestly, I think persecution is us just finally reaching that ‘line.’  We accept all sorts of pagan (meaning non-God, which is why many are so acceptable; many are morally neutral) activities, but then something comes along that offends us and we start protesting.  Can you imagine the confusion of the culture around us? ‘We were all getting along just fine and now you are throwing your hands up at us.  What’s the matter with you?’

Whatever the object of offence is, it wakes us up and we remember we are different and we weren’t meant for this world after all.  The only thing that makes us different is that we accepted what Jesus did, so the way we deal with this rude awakening is often pretty poor.  And this ticks off the ungodly community who can’t—can’t—understand what all the commotion is about.  They certainly don’t like being called names by us.  So, we feel beaten up because they feel beaten up.  Disrespected and uncomfortable.  In some very real ways throughout history and today, Christians are persecuted.  They lose their property, are jailed, tortured and murdered.

When you are facing certain loss, you are forced to choose.  Is it worth it?  It is easy to say we love Jesus when it costs us nothing.  But will you still call His name out in public if it means you lose you job?  Your home? Your life? 

I think God uses persecution to keep His believers close and bring more to believe in Him.  That is certainly for our good!  I think when we start to feel that tickle of discomfort, it is time to praise the Lord.  Be full of joy and glorify Him because you are not quite so comfortable, not quite so entertained by this ashen world.  Remember our job here.  It was  never to get comfortable.  Get back to work!

We are here to help rescue people.  That can be the only reason.  If we are saved by grace alone, then when we accept Him as Lord and Savior, we’re ready to move on from this earth.  But that isn’t what happens.  We stay here.  Why?  It can’t be so that we will just learn for our own sake, or just mature in our faith so that we are more fit for heaven.  That doesn’t make sense.  If that were the case, it would mean that we are doing something to earn our spot.  Jesus’ blood wasn’t enough.  I need to help Him out.  uh…. no.

SO, if I am still here and it isn’t for my sake and it isn’t for God’s sake, then why?  It must for for others’ sake!  The first thing I need to do is stop trying to get comfortable, stop fighting for my spot in this world.  I should be pointing to the emergency exits on this failing contraption of life.  And I can’t do it like a scary monster that makes others run away from me.  I have to tell the truth, with earnestness and love so they trust me enough to follow me to Him.

Jump!

Yesterday I shared how my family has responded to persecution and how we have changed when the persecution was removed.

Allow me to interrupt myself to discuss this word, persecution, because there is persecution and there is persecution.  I know I have never faced persecution.  I have been yelled at, called names and made distinctly uncomfortable for being who I am or believing what I believe.  However,we have never had cause to worry for our safety, our lives, our possessions, Brian’s job… People have asked us—strongly—to not speak of God.  We have lost friends because we talk about Jesus too often. But none of that really can constitute the type of persecution Christians have faced for their faith in Jesus.  We know that.  We all clear on that?  Good.

I think America has done much the same thing, on a larger scale, across the decades of time, as we have. We all got lazy. We accepted that we were a “Christian Nation” and allowed for our individual relationships with Christ to coast; we depended on the masses to carry us along. I picture us as hobos hopping on a train and riding it wherever it takes us. We feel quite pleased with ourselves because we got on this cool train. It is comfortable. People take care of things. Eventually, we abandon our hobo clothes and find an empty compartment that we make our own. It is a sweet deal. When we step out to look around at the other cars, someone cleans our room. No cooking for us, either! Food appears hot and tasty when we order from the menu. Life is good.

We allowed the harmless in. We are molded by our secular society more than we care to admit. But, as decades have passed, some of us are waking up. We see that maybe we aren’t in such a Christian country after all.

I don’t know that our responses are all that effective, though. Imagine that train again. We feel the temperature fall, we see the terrain that is speeding past the windows becoming less familiar. So, we stand up and start hollering. “Wait! I got on the Christian train! This isn’t right! Where are we going!?” All this yelling annoys the passengers who got on and knew where they were going, and we get a little hoarse. Nothing really changes and we don’t even realize that we look like clueless idiots. But we keep yelling and waving our hands around, because the truth is still not something we want to face. It is there, but we hope the bluster we create will keep it hidden.  We hope against the truth our hearts know.  We hope that we can somehow change that truth.

What is the truth? We. Have. To. Jump!

There is no other way. The train isn’t going to stop for us. It is going right where it was always meant to go. (The train and the people on board aren’t doing anything wrong!) We are the ones who screwed up. That is what is so uncomfortable. That is the embarrassing truth we were hoping to hide or maybe even change.

There is no Christian train. Christianity was never meant to be traveled by rail—it doesn’t speed. There is no short cut. It is a walking faith, a faith of relationship. It is slow. Each person must travel it with purpose. Not a single step of your faith can belong to any other human. So, we aren’t just on the wrong train, we were never meant to get on any train in the first place! Whoops!

What are you going to do? You are going to look like a fool jumping off of that train. You are going to get hurt and you can’t take anything with you. The longer you stay, the further you get from where you belong, the more you will accumulate and the colder it is going to get. What are you going to do?

Press In

I can look back on my own history and see the blessing of being around people hostile to our faith.  Our Christmas traditions are far more Christ-centered than those of my own childhood.  I grew up in a Christian-is-status-quo environment.  So, we had a lot of not-Christian stuff, because we all knew what it was all about.

My kids have grandparents malignant to the things of Christ.  In response, we said no to elaborate Santa games and yes to serving the less fortunate. We talked about the real man who inspired the Santa traditions with his great love for Christ that manifested in generosity and gentleness to children. My kids didn’t see the traditional Rudolph and Frosty movies until recently, but we never missed the birthday cake and song to Jesus. We lessened the number of times we sang Jingle Bells and sang O Come All Ye Faithful in our sleep. 

Everything we did was with thought and purpose.  My kids knew the Christmas story frontwards and backwards before they were two. They knew the pagan roots and Christian symbolism of the tree, the date and the candles.  They can tell you what all the aspects of the candy cane represent. 

All our nativity scenes were active—meaning the wise men started in another room of the house and slowly moved toward the barn.  So did Mary and Joseph, for that matter. On Christmas day we ‘appeared’ the long awaited Baby in each of our crèche sets with great drama and joy.  The wise men continued to travel until their own celebrated entry on January 6.

The contentiousness was something I would never have wanted in our lives. But as I look back, I see how the One we call Lord maintained His position by putting a war just outside our door. We pressed into Him. We impressed into our children the meaning of life. It was imperative they knew, because the lie that seemed so harmless was invited to our dinner table. We had to learn NOW the way to love the people who hated what we lived for, because my children were sitting on their laps. We had to know why we believe what we believe, because there were a thousand reasons telling us we were wrong…in our living room!

To our heartbreak, we are on a sabbatical from the relationship that was such a precious trial to us. And I see a change in how we live. We are in a fabulous church, so everything is Christian all the time. And how easy it is to let the ‘harmless’ in. My kids have now seen all the traditional Christmas shows that have nothing to do with Christ. Stockings from Santa is one of my favorite things. The nativities are still around, but they are whole from the get-go.

I can excuse the lax traditions by saying the kids are older, life is busy and they know the truth. But the fact is that I have grown lazy in the safety of our lives. My guard is down and the world is coming in.

How Will We Stand Against It?

There are some beautiful nativity scenes out there.  We have several in our home, and the guy down the street has this awesome life size manger scene lit up in his yard every year.  It is pretty easy to call to mind the image of the parents gathered around the Baby in the feedbox. But what happened next?

When I think of the days after my own babies were born, they are pretty special.  The crowd goes home, we get to know each other and we settle in to a new life.  We practice the first of septi-ga-frillion nursing and diaper sessions, we learn what the different cries mean and we come to intimately know this teeny person.

In the days after Jesus was born (from day one to several years), there was a king with an army at his disposal looking to destroy Him.  Angels sang from heaven and shepherds worshiped.  Wise men traveled miles and brought gifts fit for a king.  But there was another response to the news of a newborn King.  Murder.  Horror reigned when the king’s men violated countless families to eliminate the threat a Child posed to jealous Herod’s throne.

A day of great joy is followed by untold terror and loss. As long as we live in this world, this seems to be the pattern. Bad things happen. Really, really bad things. Good things happen, too, but sometimes it looks like the bad is winning. Evil seems to come on in indefatigable waves. How can we stand against it?

The holidays hold a lot of pressure to make everything ‘good.’ We are supposed to be jolly. Families get together. We have goodwill and peace to all men jingling in our heads. Be happy, happy, happy! Unfortunately, the calendar wasn’t consulted by the cancer that invades, the cars that crash or the relationships that unravel. Sickness and strife come. It stinks any time of year, but we feel a special failing when it attacks during a holiday. How do we stand against it?

We go back to that small Baby, Who grew into a strong and gentle Man. He overcame all the evil with undying and inexhaustible Good. It may be hard to remember when another wave crashes over us, deafening and disorienting. It certainly goes against our instincts that scream to us to scramble up for air, but try instead to reach down. Down to the Rock. Reach for the unshakable. Press your body to it and don’t let go.

The story has already been written. We know the outcome. A lot of bad will continue to happen. But God wins. Good wins. Love wins. Healing and reconciliation and wholeness go on without end. Hold on!

Merry Christmas!

Happy day after Christmas to you! The presents have been unwrapped, the food has been eaten and the family has been visited.  It is done…but it continues!

Thankfully Christmas isn’t just a day.  In the liturgical churches there is an entire Christmas season.  Even without a calendar to dictate, we are rightly encouraged to carry the joy and meaning of Christmas to the world throughout the year.

How will you continue to celebrate the glory of the Lord?  How will you remember that He came for you?  What will you do to show others that they are precious enough for the Son of God to live in a flesh body, experience temptation and suffer Himself to death?

Carry the joy that today is the day the Lord has made!  Share His love with a smile and a helping hand.  Your love makes a difference!

Happy Birthday, Jesus!

Merry Christmas!!  May your sights and hearts be lifted above this earth and life to the glory that is our Savior and the to the opportunity for a new life with Him that will never end. Amen!

Eh, Not SO Great…

There is a song that just captivates me.  The group Sidewalk Prophets sings “Live Like That.” Check it out here. It is so good.  Go ‘head, I’ll wait.

 

If I could write beautiful, heartfelt poetry or music, these would be words I would use. Oh! It just speaks my heart.  I do want to live like that!

 

 

Here is another. ‘Well Done’ by Moriah Peters gets me through the end of my literal runs, but also inspires me to ‘keep on keepin’ on’ with regular life, as well.  Oh, I do want Him to tell me, ‘Well done’!

I want to exemplify love.  I want wisdom to course through me so that all my choices glorify Him.  I want the parts of me that show to the world (and my family) to be the perfect parts that Jesus Himself created, restored and perfected.

So.

How’m I doin'?

I was recently unfriended by someone on Facebook. Unfriended!  That is a purposeful thing, you know. No matter what excuses some people propose, it just rarely happens by accident.  I realize it isn’t the end of the world.  I can’t even tell you when it happened.  I only noticed because a third party had her listed and her icon was not annotated as a mutual friend.  But it happened.  Someone chose to remove me, not hide or modify my access, but remove me.  I was amputated—something I just wrote about yesterday.

I’m guessing I’m not living up to my inspirational music.  I sing it while I cook and shower.  I pray that God will aid me in each moment to embody His Love to the world.  But, if I were doing that, I don’t think a friend would take time from her busy life to exclude me from it.  *sigh*

To quote my very clean-mouthed dad, isn’t that just the shits?  (In case my tone conveys inaccurately, I am being quite sincere about my dad's mouth. I can recall him cussing less than five times in my entire life. Each time he did, he used his words most appropriately, as I intend it here.) And worse, I hate failing, but I hate being confronted with my failure even more.  Boy, I’m a mess!

Tomorrow is Christmas, the second most important holiday to the Christian faith.  The thing that distinguishes Christianity from all other religions and faiths is that Perfection with a capital P reaches out to humanity.  All the others either say there is no perfection or offer instructions on how humanity can reach it.  Christians have to (get to?) come to the miserable but undeniable truth that we are abysmally incapable of following even the most basic instructions, even when we desperately want to.

Jesus knows this about us (duh, right?).  He wants to be friends, but knows that the only way to do it is if He does all the work! Christmas is when we celebrate the first part of the amazing process that brings us together again.

I am so sorry I lost this friend.  I am so sorry that she is just another name on a list of people who chose to quit me.  It breaks my heart.  I love my friends and cherish them so dearly, and I over and over and over again cause them enough harm that they amputate me from their lives.  And my goals were so lofty—that we all live happily ever after.

Thankfully, this isn’t the end.  Until the end of time, the story always ends with ‘To Be Continued.’  It is written.  The story is final.  Praise Him.  Happy Birthday!