The One Who Makes Peace

One of my favorite parts of my Hebrew class are the little snippets of sermons we get in our lessons. There's nothing quite like a professor who is awed by her subject and revels in the process of learning and what that brings to us both personally and corporately as we discipline ourselves into learning a language, specifically a biblical language.

Last Wednesday night we interpreted some prayers from a Jewish reformed prayer book. One in particular has stayed with me this week.

The prayer says:

Maker of peace, from his high place, he will make peace over us on all of Israel, and say Amen.

There are a couple things that are significant about this prayer. First, this prayer is said by the Jewish community. Peace has historically not existed for the this community. From the time spent in Egypt, the exile, views of Jews that existed as Christianity became a state sponsored religion, the Holocaust and the continuing conflict in the Middle East today, peace seems a distant dream. This is a prayer of faith for a people who have not experienced peace, but continue to place their hope in God.

The second thing that stood out to me is the first section. "Maker of peace" would read literally, the one who is making peace. The verb "making" is indicative of continuing action. Linked with the next clause, there is an image set up for us. The one who is continuing to make peace, will make peace over us. I God directing the clouds over our heads, a spattering of rain on the sidewalk quickly changing into a steady rain that soaks through; cool, wet heavy rain that leaves us drenched but oddly refreshed. Instead of rain, though, we are drenched with peace. As the storm clouds drift away and the rain lets up, we are left with the same world around us, but the smell is fresher, the grass is greener and renewed hope is held quietly, preciously, in our hearts.

What do we do?

I've mentioned before my frustration with some of the e-mails sent around about Obama during the political campaign.

Today, I was forwarded an e-mail that surpassed all those. It moved from ignorant e-mail forwarding...the kind where the sender doesn't check facts and forwards on incorrect and often harmful material...to one of outright racism.

I think what stunned me the most was that this was from an individual I really respected.

Just last night, my husband shared with me a story of a friend who has what we might call naive racism. He doesn't even realize that what he says is extremely hurtful and propagates the current power structures. His reality says this is all true and yet he is somehow blind to the faults of this way of thinking.

The fact is that this is me, too. I make my own assumptions and think that's reality for all. I use structures that work for me. I don't want my ignorance to be an excuse, though. I want to hear the stories of people not like me...and let it make a difference. Lord, open my eyes.

Another Funny Kid Story...

Last night I was working on a school project with our boys. They had to do some research about someone they knew who served in the military and then write up some of that information. Along with this project, the kids in the school are doing extra chores and raising money to send a veteran on a 3-day trip to Washington D.C. to look at the war memorials. It's a pretty neat project. And, we learned along the way, a needed trip into history for our children. So, here's my conversation with your 7-year old.

7-year old: Mom, what did Papa do in the Army?

Me: In the Army, he was an accounting specialist, but he was a cook when he served with the Air National Guard.

7-year old: What did he cook?

Me: Food.

7-year old: Wow, you mean food was invented way back then?

I Wish I Had A Tan

Warning, totally unimportant blog post ahead...

I was at the gym the other day trying to maintain my work out schedule (which is more for psychological well-being than physical). I was doing my requisite weight routine when I glanced toward the mirror and cringed. Let me just say that the bright white light stunned me into inactivity just long enough for me to remember that it was just my lily white legs. Of course, I only had to look around to see several other folks working out with a nice brownish glow to their skin...and I so wish I had a little more melanin myself. Red-heads are just plain out of luck in that area.

So, there's my thought for the day!

Born Again Church Tour Recap

Last weekend was the Born Again Church Tour here in Denver. It was a great weekend with good conversation and lots of challenging stuff.

One of the best things about a conference like this is that it brings together people from varying backgrounds and mixes us all up a bit. We meet new people who are similar to us and others who are pretty different. This falls right in line with the tension intended from this conference. When we come face to face with "real people" rather than mere issues, the context of the conversation changes.

But, this tension is a difficult space to dwell in. And it was difficult for some in our group. I knew that going in...it's still difficult for me. We're all at varying stages in our journeys and some of these conversations are very uncomfortable...there is no "easy" button. These conversations also mess with our way of doing life and faith and that hurts, especially when a particular way of doing each of these is married to what we call "truth". It then becomes easy to dismiss experiences that lie outside our solid lines.

It seems to me that this place of discomfort, when we want sincerely to defend our process and to take away this tension that confuses us and questions our way of doing life, that we need to press in. We need to wait in that place of discomfort, to seriously consider and accept the questions, whether they are ours or others'.

I know that this time was valuable for each of us that attended. For some, this was a safe place and the ideas were life-giving and exciting. For others it was disheartening and overwhelming. For all of us, it was the start of new conversations.

Parent Teacher Conferences

If you asked me in August whether I was looking forward to our first parent teacher conferences of the year, I probably just would have cried. Honestly.

Our middle child has been diagnosed with a couple developmental delays. Nothing major but enough to keep this mama on her toes. That, combined with a bad preschool experience made for a worried me and a frustrated child. In fact, before school started, my son informed me that he worked hard enough in preschool. He was willing to go to preschool, but if they made him work, he wasn't interested. Well, there you have it. My fear increased. The thought of fighting through years of school was at the forefront of my mind.

It hasn't been that way at all. He works so hard in school, but because it's a good environment, he's fine with it. He's doing fantastic. Really...absolutely fantastic. He started reading to me about two weeks ago and is so proud of himself. I couldn't be more proud at how he has dug in. I am so impressed with how his teacher handles his classroom that makes it very safe for my child.

Ahhh...I'm sure that we will run into our speedbumps along the way as that's just the story of life. But for now, I'm basking in the good report and the happiness of my precious son!

Lord, Are You Speaking To Me or Is It Just the Baseline?

Last night my husband and I attended a concert/worship session with Paul Baloche at New Life Church in Colorado Springs. They are in the midst of a 3-day worship conference called "Enter".

The event was a bit of an odd experience for me. I grew up in churches that placed high stock in worship...that is "praise and worship". The worship services at church seemed to be the point in time everyone longed for throughout the week. It was the emotional place, the place where you sought God for that emotional high that would carry you through the following week. I remember dancing to the song "Jehovah Jireh, My Provider" and the next step of then going forward for prayer. They wouldn't stop praying until you were slain in the spirit. I remember laying on the floor a few times thinking in my head "How long do I have to stay down to make this seem real"? There was some odd stuff that happened at that church. I'm sure that God was present, because God is faithful to meet us, and yet I know that a lot of what went on was deeply influenced by stuff that is definitely theologically suspect if not in some cases downright spiritual manipulation.

When we came to our current church, it was a different denomination, but some of the same things were going on. Still seeking to feel God, both Eddie and I felt that it was a fit for us. But over the last 9 years, my understanding of faith and a relationship with Christ has changed.

Yesterday evening is the first time in about 7 or 8 years that I've been in setting where people have come for the sole purpose of a special place of worship and hearing from God. Without being totally aware of what was happening in me, my initial response was cynicism. I questioned use of group dynamics to create a particular feeling, I judged the guy in front of us who was jumping up and down with some weird head movement thing going on. Emotionally and spiritually, my arms were crossed and I began closing down in a type of fear response.


Until the song, "Praise Adonai" came on. There was a point in the song that either God broke through my initial response or I simply succumbed to the baseline heartbeat of the music. But the breakthrough wasn't a highly emotional thing for me, but a reminder of the path I've been on in my own process.

The first thing that went through my mind was that it the gentleman in front of me has every right to jump up and down and do odd head movements. It's none of my concern how he and God do business. That's between them and I can keep my grubby little hands (or in this case, thought) out of it.

Second, though, was some grappling with how faith, life and relationship with God look like for me. In my own reaction against the feelings of manipulation, both of me and of the purpose of the Holy Spirit in our lives, I pushed much in the way of emotion out of my relationship with God. That's actually a fairly easy thing for me as I tend towards being a thinker anyway. But the question that kept prodding my mind last night was whether closing that emotional door entirely was healthy for me. If not, what does the integration of intellect and emotion look like in my life, 'cause I'm pretty sure there won't be any jumping and head-bobbing for me in the near future?

So, whether it was just the baseline, or God's prodding, last night's worship ended up being much more thought-provoking than I would have originally thought.

By the way, here is an acoustic recording of Praise Adonai. It really is a beautiful song.