Feb. 15, 2010 Happy Valentine’s Day

Since this will post the day after Valentine’s Day, it seemed a no-brainer to write something on the subject of the day’s history or at least come up with a few of the standard scriptures about love. Doing a little research, I came upon a bit of news that sent me in a different direction.

Our family spent almost all of 1987 in India with Youth with a Mission. One day in February, a woman on the staff mentioned that we had received quite a lot of mail. “Oh,” I said happily, “it’s a red-letter day.” I meant that it was a day of significance, because getting mail when you’re far from home is such a wonderful thing. The woman looked at me oddly, however. “How did you know?” She was amazed, because our mail contained several Valentine’s Day cards—thus our mail was literally filled with “red letters.”

Apparently there has been a growing animosity toward Valentine’s Day in recent years among Hindu fundamentalists who consider its celebration an example of the widespread “cultural pollution of the west.” According to Wikipedia, “those who violate (laws against Valentine’s Day) are dealt with harshly by baton-holding brigands … who lurk in public places especially parks, chasing young people holding hands and others suspected to be lovers. In many parts of south India couples who are found in parks and other public places are immediately forced to marry on the spot.”

Talk about your arranged marriages…”How did you and Daddy get married?” “We were holding hands on February 14 one year and the police made us get hitched.” Not the most romantic courtship story, but since the day is named for multiple Christian martyrs, perhaps not so far out in left field as the traditional cupids, hearts, flowers, and chocolates.

Valentine’s Day may well have its origin in the pagan festival Lupercalia (Feb. 15), in which shepherds ran through villages naked, striking people as they passed in the belief that it would help with fertility and childbirth. When Christianity came on the scene, a “nicer” holiday was introduced, just as with All Saint’s Day at Halloween or Christmas at the Winter Solstice.

None of which has much of anything to do with the kind of love we each desire…the unfailing love we will only find perfectly in the person of God. The most loving human will inevitably disappoint and fail us, as we will fail others, but God’s love is never-ending. Romans 8:38-39 tells us that “neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (NRSV).

NOTHING has the power to separate us from the love of God.

Sin has the power, however, to separate us from the God of love.

I challenge you, at this particular “Hallmark holiday” season, to do a heart audit, asking the Holy Spirit to reveal any unrepented-of sin. The traditional season of Lent begins this week with Ash Wednesday, continuing through Easter. The very best thing to “give up” for Lent is all that would separate us from our true hearts’ desire…God.

Permission to use with acknowledgement of source.

ellenofgillette1@aol.com

February 1, 2010 Words of Life

16All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching,
rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness,
17so that the man of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.
2 Timothy 3:16-17, NIV

Years ago, missionaries from Kenya, East Africa, retired in the city of Fort Pierce, Florida, where I also lived; it was my privilege to get to know them fairly well, attend church with them, and sit under their teaching over the next few decades. John and Sophia Kitts had served some forty years overseas—John had worked with pygmy tribes (short in stature, he said it was the only time he was a giant among men); Sophie was a beloved radio personality. At the end of his career John worked as a prison chaplain, offering comfort and wisdom to inmates on Death Row. Sophia died in 1987; John, who had been blessed with a second wife, passed away in 2002.

John reported that all of the prisoners he spoke with were open to hearing about God’s love and forgiveness, which makes perfect sense. If you’re about to stand before a judge, it is good to know your lawyer is prepared. 1 John 2:1 tells us that we have an advocate, or legal counsel…someone to speak on our behalf… in Jesus himself. “Yes, Father,” he may say, “this one has sinned many times and deserves eternal death as you have judged righteously. But may I remind the court that I already served his penalty? My blood has already covered his sins, his past, his mistakes, his failures.”

I thought of this aspect of John’s work with prisoners facing death last week as I read from the Psalms by the bed of a man at the local hospice. Although the common perception of hospice is that of providing end-of-life care exclusively, people also come to the facility for symptom management or short-term respite care (for example, a family caretaker is ill or has to be away). Hospice patients may stabilize and return home or be placed in nursing homes. For many, of course, their stay at hospice is a launching pad into eternity. Visits from family members, friends, staff, and volunteers take on added significance as each moment may be their last.

As the verses above say, all scripture is beneficial. The words spoken to those who are either in the midst of great trials or at the ends of their life journeys—by John Kitts in the prisons of Kenya, by countless chaplains at battlefield hospitals, by loved ones and others at final bedsides—can bring so much comfort and encouragement, because they are the very words of life. And if those who are dying need to hear something other than judgment and condemnation, don’t those within our own households? Don’t those with whom we have contact every day?

Perhaps we would do better showing others the love of God if we didn’t focus so often on the things they are doing wrong, putting more emphasis on the fact that they have already been forgiven. We may have the privilege of being the one to tell them for the first time…or the last.

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ellenofgillette1@aol.com

January 18, 2010 "What to do about Pat" Isn't Even the Real Question

My initial column on this page included an intention to avoid politics, but sometimes, even the best of intentions must be laid aside.

Televangelist Pat Robertson is currently getting buried under heavy criticism regarding his speculation last week that the January 12 earthquake in Haiti was directly related to that nation’s long-ago pact with Satan. It’s not the first time Robertson has gotten into hot water by opening his mouth, but it will probably be the most-remembered, seeming so incredibly insensitive during a time of national loss and grief. At last count over 100,000 souls swept away…not a good time to be pointing fingers.

Having no great affection for televangelists in general, I nevertheless sense a hesitation in my spirit to jump on the anti-Pat bandwagon. Maybe it’s because both Old and New Testament scripture backs up the idea that God does judge sin on a national scale. Prophets, angels, even Balaam’s donkey (see Numbers 22), have brought harsh words and appeared harsh themselves, even a little on the crazy side.

(Not that Pat Robertson is a prophet—as my husband wisely pointed out, a prophet would have predicted the earthquake before it happened, not talk about the reasons for it after the fact. And it’s always struck me that when YOU go through a tough time, it must be God dealing with you, but when I’M the one in hot water, it’s an attack from the enemy!)

Robertson’s much-maligned comment was taken out of context, as such things usually are—he went on to talk about compassion, helping, etc. But did Haitian leaders make a pact with the devil? According to Wikipedia, there was a significant Vodou (voodoo) ceremony in 1791 in which the slaves gathered for the express purpose of getting help overthrowing French rule. During the ceremony, a demon-possessed priestess cut a pig’s throat and distributed the blood to those gathered. The ceremony marked the beginning of the Haitian revolution, part of their history.

Did a ceremony in 1791 cause an earthquake over 300 years later? No, shifting tectonic plates did that. Were spiritual forces at work in the shifting? That’s a deeper question.

We could compare Haiti and the Dominican Republican—both nations share the same island of Hispaniola, but they differ greatly. For example, Haiti ranks 135th on one Gross Domestic Product chart, while the Dominican Republic is one of, if not the, wealthiest Central American and Caribbean nations. Half of all Haitians practice vodou, regardless of other religious affiliation. Over 95% in the DR claim to be Christian. Haiti has had a string of corrupt leaders; the DR, apparently not. Has one enjoyed God’s blessing while the other has incurred his wrath? It does give one pause—especially as we see our own nation moving further and further away from its Christian heritage.

Robertson’s comments weren’t politically correct, but then, Jesus was rarely PC. Jewish patriarchs, kings, prophets, Christian disciples, apostles, ministers, missionaries—a multitude of people who, with the perspective of history, are credited with wonderful examples of obedience to God—have often been criticized at the time of their obedience. Was Robertson speaking from God’s perspective, or his own? If he was giving his personal opinion, was there any truth in it?

Let’s assume, for the sake of argument, that he was wrong—poor timing, personal agenda, prejudice and arrogance, whatever the reason. What then, is to be our response? Robertson is a Christian, certainly one with faults and weaknesses as the rest of us, but he and his many ministries do lift up the name of Jesus (and do a tremendous amount of good—Operation Blessing alone has spent over a billion dollars helping those in need). His insensitivity hasn’t made any friends for evangelicals or the Church, but perhaps we would do best to view this as a cautionary tale rather than heating up the tar and gathering feathers for one of our own. Like the relative we’re a little uncomfortable around because of the constant drama, he still gets invited to the reunion.

As for our response to the far greater question…Haiti itself…that one’s easy. We pray – for help to reach those in need, for lives and souls to be saved, for workers to be protected, for finances to be released. Beyond prayer, some of us will be asked to give. Some of us will be asked to go.

Of one thing, I’m certain: not one of us will be asked to make Pat Robertson’s remarks or Haiti’s history an excuse for apathy.


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ellenofgillette1@aol.com

January 4, 2010 A Sabbath Rest

We have just celebrated the end not only of the year 2009, but of a decade. There’s a sense of excitement in the voices of commentators as they speculate what the New Year will bring. 2010—it even sounds significant.

According to the Jewish calendar, however, which follows lunar changes rather than the civil calendar we’re more familiar with, the New Year began September 18 with the feast of Rosh Hashanah, not just a few days ago on January 1. And reckoning the generations from creation, the year is not 2010, but 5770.

Whether or not it all began exactly 5770 years ago is not the point, at least not for our purpose at the moment. After the work of creation, God rested (Genesis 2:3). He had finished doing what he wanted to do—there were lights, waters, animals, plants, a couple to reign over it all and to walk with God. Things took, instead, a tragic turn that we’re still experiencing. Whatever else is going on all around us, the one thing that is often lacking is…rest.

The Bible speaks in several places of God’s will that we, his children, enter into his rest, but what does it mean? The writer of Hebrews tells us that “Anyone who enters God’s rest also rests from his own work, just as God did from us. Let us, therefore, make every effort to enter that rest, so that no one will fall by following their example of disobedience” (Hebrews 4:10-11).

It’s a paradox, isn’t it? We are to “make every effort” (which sounds a lot like work) to enter into spiritual rest (i.e. the end of work). The key is in seeing the difference between God’s work and our “own.” God’s work encompasses all the things he tells us to do and points especially to the work of the cross—Jesus said “It is finished” (John 19:30). We are made righteous not through anything we could ever do, but through faith in what Jesus did on our behalf.

Our work refers to the things we think are good ideas, or the things people have told us are good ideas. The world is full of “good” people doing “good” things who live completely apart from faith in God, either ignorant of or opposed to the Lordship of Jesus Christ. A moral life can be achieved through adhering to qualities such as honesty and decency, but it will not make a person worthy of eternal life. Good intentions and noble deeds, while beneficial and benevolent, are powerless against the sin nature with which all of us are born.

We can look abstractly at the concepts of God-ordained vs. man-made and be tempted to think it’s a no-brainer, but Christians aren’t immune to the subtle siren call of works. There is safety in following rules, in adopting rigid codes of behavior. It goes against “our” logic to think that good things may become actually counterproductive to our walks with God.

We know, for instance, that reading God’s word is a good idea. How much better to institute a system of reading the Bible. Ten minutes a day. A chapter. The Bible through in a year. None of those ideas are, in and of themselves, a bad thought, certainly not sinful…yet when we make even a potentially godly practice one of our “own works” we fail to rest in what God intended.

The same can be said of all the things we do because they draw us closer to God—church, study, volunteering, witnessing, disciplines, missions, fasting. When activities such as these flow out of our conversations with God, when they are extensions of our love and commitment, we are relaxed in the Spirit, aware of spiritual growth, free from any vestiges of pride. When we have confidence in such activities, or even worse—when we require them either directly or subconsciously of others—we tense up spiritually. The Holy Spirit cannot flow in or through us. We have failed to enter into God’s rest.

James speaks to the balance that is always, always needed. Those he wrote to were taking freedom to an extreme, becoming lazy and unmotivated, using their freedom as an opportunity to indulge their sinful natures (Galatians 5:13). “Show me your faith apart from works,” he challenged (James 2:18). You can have works without faith, but you cannot have truth faith without it being lived out through godly outward expressions.

Just as Christmas may be the only time of year some people even think about Jesus, New Year’s may be the only time many consider making changes. New Year’s resolutions may even do some good, if they motivate people to get healthier, more generous, or pursue God.

But I get the feeling that instead of looking at promising programs to initiate or thinking of the Top Ten Ways to Reach the Lost in 2010, God may well be saying to the Church…rest. Rest in me. I’ve done the work. Let’s see what happens together.

Happy New Year!

Permission to use with acknowledgement of source.

Ellenofgillette1@aol.com

December 14, 2009 A Call to Excellence

Psalm 33 (NIV)
1Sing joyfully to the Lord, you righteous;
it is fitting for the upright to praise him.
2Praise the Lord with the harp;
make music to him on the ten-stringed lyre.
3Sing to him a new song;
play skillfully, and shout for joy.

Often in church circles you’ll hear someone say that they “make a joyful noise” – a term that comes from Psalm 100. It may be said with a chuckle, implying that the speaker doesn’t sing well but is still passionate about singing God’s praises, nevertheless.

There’s a lot to be said for effort and enthusiasm. And there’s a place for those for whom effort and enthusiasm represent their level of expertise. God, certainly, sees our hearts, and accepts our worship on that basis, rather than the ability (or inability) to stay on pitch. On the other hand, the person who can’t carry a tune in a bucket, as the saying goes, shouldn’t be offended he or she isn’t chosen to lead the praise team or singing a solo.

There’s also something to be said for excellence. In the passage above, the psalmist encourages the reader to “play skillfully”- which takes things to another level altogether.

How many times have you heard someone at a piano concert comment, “Oh, I wish I could play like that!” We recently went to the Triangle Youth Ballet’s rendition of “The Nutcracker” in Chapel Hill to see my cousin’s daughter dance…the entire troupe personified the logical outcome to natural talent combined with hours and years of practice, coupled with dedicated instruction. I’m sure many little girls and boys watching thought, “Oh, I wish I could dance like that!”—but relatively few will take that thought and turn it into a reality.

They may not have the natural “build” for a dancer, they may lack financial resources, they may be able to find time for video games and television but not for long and arduous practices. Whatever the reasons, they will always watch dancing wistfully and appreciatively, but never partake in it…at an advanced level…themselves.

To be skillful means to be sacrificial—the minister who delivers a thought-provoking, heart-changing sermon on Sunday has spent hours of preparation…years, actually, as everything he or she has experienced beforehand (good and bad) has added to the flavor of the message. The singer who gives life to words, the writer who communicates what someone has always felt but never been able to convey adequately, the artist who captures the glories of creation in unique ways and through varied media, the actor who takes someone’s vision and makes it believable…it all comes at a price, and few are willing to pay it.

Ministers research and study and compare and pray. Singers train and memorize and watch their diet and prepare in ways that most of us take for granted. We just know they sound good, without looking at what they’ve done for that to happen. Writers write—to the exclusion of other activities they may wish they had more time for. Artists sketch and study and try different techniques, perhaps throwing out ten attempts before getting the results they’re after. Actors rehearse, toiling over lines and blocking and direction, and those who make it look the most effortless, have put the most effort into the preparation.

The psalmist challenges us to take things to another level. Step it up a little. Stretch ourselves. Not just play at life, but play skillfully. Not just get by, settling for mediocrity and what passes for “normal” in our neck of the woods, but to keep pressing on toward excellence.

If I started ballet training today, I would never achieve the skill to perform onstage in “The Nutcracker.” But I can still take my desire to move and communicate music and stretch myself by worshipping God in the dance, whether privately or in a sacred, corporate setting. If I were to begin to run daily, I would never become an Olympic competitor, but I can try to run further, or faster, tomorrow than I did today. As a writer, I need to continually challenge myself to write better, with more discipline and less complacency.

Most of us will never be “stars” in the eyes of the world. We each have limitations, whether being tone deaf, or handicapped in some way, or not having the financial freedom to take the best classes or go to the finest schools, or having obligations that prevent the single-mindedness that is necessary for being “the best.” Indeed, God is often in such limitations so that we turn God-given interests and skills into objects of worship.

Instead of using these limitations as excuses, however, we need to realize what we are capable of and what God expects from us…to rely on God’s abilities, not our own, and to use the talents and abilities he has given us, to achieve the most for his glory and his kingdom as we can.

It is “fitting” for us to praise our God.

November 30, 2009 Fast or Feast...Maybe Both?

Baked turkey and sage dressing. Ham with clove sauce. Mountains of mashed potatoes, gallons of gravy, vegetables seasoned to perfection, hot buttered rolls, sweet tea. And that’s just the main course. For dessert, every variety of pie known to mankind—pumpkin, sweet potato, peanut butter, chocolate, pecan, chocolate pecan, apple, cherry, blueberry, blackberry cobbler, peach, peach cobbler, mincemeat, lemon meringue, cream—and the cakes…pound, chocolate, spice, marmalade, angel food, yellow. Followed by candies, fudge, truffles, mints, jelly beans, candy corn. Washed down with eggnog or punch, with coffee or Coke.

I defy anyone to keep an accurate count of their calorie intake between Thanksgiving and New Year’s…there’s just too much variety this time of year, too much richness, too many yellowed and tattered heirloom recipe cards pulled from between the pages of favorite cookbooks. This is the time of year that we most easily excuse and justify excess—it’s the holidays! We’re celebrating! Care for more whipped cream on that slice?

And that’s just the food. This is also, historically, in our nation anyway, the biggest buying season, the max-out-every-credit-card-season, the I’ve-got-to-buy-her-something-season. Would it be Scrooge-like to interrupt the festivities with a quiet call to…moderation? Even (gasp) discipline?

The season of Advent does indeed celebrate the coming of Jesus, the Christ child, but I wonder if we might better celebrate his birth by obedience to the teachings he delivered later in life. Mightn’t it be a novel approach to the holiday season of So Much to consciously, perhaps even painfully, do without?

It sounds almost sacrilegious. Easter is the season of sacrifice—Jesus’ ultimate sacrifice on the cross of Calvary—not Christmas. But what if we entered this time of year symbolically emptying ourselves? Cutting back, not just in one area, but in every area.

Because Jesus spoke directly to eating, that’s a good place to start: “My disciples will fast” (Matthew 9:15). Jesus said those words, those clear and emphatic words. In the midst of all the wonderfully aromatic kitchens, would he really dare say them to us? Now? Doesn’t he know it’s Christmas!!

“My disciples will fast.”

After the first of the year—that’s a better time to start. My blood sugar won’t let me. I get headaches. It would disrupt the household. I have to eat with the pills I take. That was for the disciples back then. If I fasted, I’d struggle with pride. I don’t want to be hyperspiritual. That’s just a little too charismatic, if you ask me. I’ve never fasted, and I’m a good Christian.

“My disciples will fast.”

Notice that Jesus didn’t say his disciples would fast one day a week, or three days a month, or on special days of the year. He didn’t say they would do it at the same time. He didn’t say it had to be from sundown to sundown, or from dinner tonight until breakfast the day after tomorrow. He didn’t say fasting is only effective if it lasts 3 days, or 7, or 40. He just said that his disciples will do it.

We usually think of fasting as “not” doing something, specifically, not eating. Jesus didn’t say, however, that his disciples “won’t eat.” Fasting is an active discipline, requiring the use of willpower, self-control, dependence on God—all good things to develop, good things that when acquired in sufficient measures, spill over into other areas of our lives.

Which begs the question…begs two questions, actually: Do you consider yourself to be a disciple? And if so, when will you be fasting next?

I submit that setting aside even one day during this season will help us maintain our perspective, help us focus on Christ, rather than Christmas. Help us empty ourselves a little more of self, that he may fill us anew with his Spirit. By giving ourselves even a brief respite from all the excess through a fast, we might even enjoy it more when we do sit down to a feast. Just a thought…


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ellenofgillette1@aol.com

November 16, 2009 Lost and Found

“Of all the things I’ve lost, I miss my mind the most.”- Ashleigh Brilliant.
“For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.” – Jesus Christ.

There are several parables that talk about God’s desire that all people be saved. A woman loses a coin and turns her house upside down to find it. When she does, she invites everyone over to celebrate. A shepherd leaves 99 sheep that are exactly where they’re supposed to be to hunt down the one that is not, finds it, brings it back to the safety of the fold.

Interestingly, although the parable of the Prodigal Son falls in line with the other two, no one goes looking for the prodigal once he chooses to take his inheritance and leave. His father waits for him from home, longing for the day when his son comes to his senses and returns.

Three similar stories, but let’s look at the differences. A coin has no choice where it is. Inanimate, it depends on someone picking it up and laying it down. The woman lost the coin; the coin didn’t “get lost.” This strikes so close to home, because I am constantly unable to put my hands on a piece of paper or a photo or something I really, really need RIGHT NOW because of my own lack of organization (only occasionally because of helpful people who move my stuff, but that’s so much easier to take!).

So the coin is lost, but it isn’t to blame. Think of people out in the world who have never heard the gospel, never heard “Jesus” except as a curse word, never known tenderness or training. They are lost without a relationship with the God who loves them, but is it because of something they did? Perhaps the woman in the story is a Church who has let people fall through the cracks, who hasn’t gone out into the highways and byways looking for those in need, who hasn’t gone out into the fields “white with harvest” and brought in the sheaves.

The sheep? Sheep are pretty stupid, really. We raised goats for awhile and their level of intelligence is similar. There may be 20 acres of lush pasture grass but one or two will get their horns stuck in the fence trying to reach something on the other side. We’d make fence runs, calling out “Maaaaaaaaaas” and head for the faint sound of another dumb goat caught. And of course they didn’t just stand there quietly while horns were disentangled; they fought you. They were stressed, fatigues, frightened…and inevitable struggled against the very people trying to help.

Sounds very familiar, doesn’t it? When people stray from the path of righteousness, when people leave the foundations they know, the teachings on which they were brought up, they invariably find trouble. They’re lost because they got distracted by the pull of something just out of reach and lost track of time, not hearing the shepherd’s call back to the fold. Entangled by weakness and addiction, those who love them enough to track them down and try to pull them back to safety may have a fight on their hands, but it is a fight worthy of the time and energy.

The prodigal is without excuse. He knows better, but he chooses the easy life, the lazy life. He wants instant gratification, not years of faithful service. He wants to play fast and loose with the money someone else earned, with the teachings someone else paid a price for learning. Rather than someone who is unsaved, perhaps he best represents the backslidden believer, the deceived disciple, the carnal Christian. He knows the love of the Father, the wealth of his provision, but he has grown impatient to fulfill his destiny. He wants to launch out on his own, has a better idea than faithfully toiling in the fields with his brother.

His brother doesn’t go after him. His father doesn’t send messages or plead for him to come back. It has to be the prodigal’s decision or it will, at best, be a temporary return for spending money and a full belly before heading back to the world.

It seems the perfect place for Jesus to talk about coming to seek and find the lost, but he saved that nugget for the story of Zacchaeus, the wee little man who climbed a sycamore tree, entertained Jesus with a meal at his demand, and was so moved that he committed to follow Jesus and live a life of generosity and honesty. He stopped long enough to listen to Jesus, and that was all it took—just a tiny gesture of interest, and Jesus took it from there.

Jesus is indeed the Lord of the Lost. What is lost in your life today? Finances? Dreams? A relationship? A child? A marriage? A job? Your favorite pen (I’m still hoping someone finds it—cobalt blue, with real gold trim, a gift from my son Caleb well over a decade ago)? Stop the intensity and turmoil of life long enough to listen to what Jesus is saying. Ask him to find what it is you need, whether the answer is lying dormant within you or you need to go to a person in humility or it is time to accept a loss and move on.

He’s the Lord of the Lost, and of the Found. What a wonder to be found by him as the Prodigal’s father found his son on the road to his home, embracing him and rejoicing over his return.

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Ellenofgillette1@aol.com