Categories
Devotional Thoughts

Health Sacrificed to Idols

We Americans are selfish. We’re selfish in our rugged individualism. Don’t need no one, don’t want to be beholden to anyone, don’t wanna take care of no one. Even American evangelicalism with its emphasis on one’s personal relationship with Christ is an extension of the American idol of individualism.

We see this same idolatry of the individual in how people are responding to vaccinations and new mask mandates. “Don’t take away my freedom!” they cry. Or, “My body, my choice!” Conspiracy theories abound about the supposed lack of safety in the vaccine or crazy ideas of Bill Gates planting nanochips in people through the vaccine. (Do you really think Gates doesn’t have anything better to do?) What’s the point of getting the vaccine, they argue, if you can still catch the virus? Or, if masks worked, there wouldn’t still be people getting sick. Thing is, masks are like parachutes; they’re not worth much if you leave them in the bag.

This is so disparate from how the Bible tells us Christians are supposed to live. (I’m not being exclusive toward nontheists, but they know to get vaccinated and to wear masks, so it’d be like preaching to the choir.) While we are certainly free from death through the death and resurrection of Jesus, and we have freedom in Christ, that freedom is very different from the way we understand freedom here in America. Paul writes in Colossians 3:12, “Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience.” Compassion… Kindness… Humility… These are not “me first” character traits. These are “others first” traits. We are to wrap ourselves up in these traits, allowing them to cover us completely, just like our clothes do.

In I Corinthians 8, the apostle Paul is talking about food sacrificed to idols. A little background information… Corinth was at the crossroads of the western trading world. A busy port city, it had a very religiously diverse population, but being that it was in Greece, the Greek deities were a significant part of that. Worshipers of these various gods and goddesses would offer meat as part of their sacrifices then eat it there in the temple. The Christian sect of Judaism (as it was known in the first century) was brand new to Corinth and it wasn’t uncommon for a convert to Christ to have dinner with his Poseidon-worshiping buddy. Paul cautions this convert to be careful, though. If the new believer sees him eating this meat sacrificed to Poseidon, then that believer may think it is okay to cross over on the faith practices.

Paul warns against causing this weaker brother to stumble in his faith. It was legal under the law for Yahweh worshipers to dine with Poseidon worshipers. It was permissible under this new church’s mandates for that table fellowship to happen, too. In other words, by all authorities, both civil and religious, Christians had the freedom and the right to eat meat sacrificed to the Greek gods. BUT… They were called to give up that personal freedom and that right in order to exercise their freedom in Christ and their obligation to protect the faith walk of their younger brother in Christ.

Though Paul is speaking of denying ourselves in order to protect the spiritual walk of one who’s spiritually weaker, we can certainly take that same message and apply it to how we Christ followers should act in regards to our brothers and sisters in community who might be physically weaker. What would you be willing to give up in order to protect someone else who may not be able to protect their self? Jesus says in John we’re supposed to sacrifice our very lives for others, and yet many folks won’t get a little shot or don a mask for the wellbeing of others. Paul writes later in that chapter, “If what I eat causes my brother to fall into sin, I will never eat meat again, so that I will not cause him to fall” (I Cor. 8:13, NIV).

Paul is willing to give up eating meat in order to prevent a sibling in the faith from stumbling in their faith walk. (Bible historians believe that most meat available for consumption had been sacrificed to a deity.) What are you willing to give up in order to prevent a weaker member of your community, a person also created in the image of God, from falling ill and possibly dying? Can you give up your pride, your rugged individualism, your idea of your “rights” and “freedoms”? Can you take a moment to think about all the people your decision impacts? What if it’s your unvaccinated child who gets sick and dies in the hospital because you refuse to wear a mask out in public? What if you inadvertently pass the virus to another adult who unknowingly infects their immunocompromised child, and that child ends up on a ventilator? What if all these hospital beds are full of Covid patients when your mom has a stroke and has to be transported 200 miles away to the next nearest hospital with available space?

So many people are willing to sacrifice health to the idols of civil freedoms and individualism. The Christ way, though, cares neither for civil freedoms or your individualism. The Jesus way says, “Be free in me and love one another as I have loved you.” The Jesus way emphasizes community and tending to that community. Again, it goes back to that “love one another.” Do you think the Good Samaritan was overjoyed about delaying his journey and making the financial sacrifice to tend to the beaten man? No, but he did it. He did it because he knew that the way of compassion is the right way. Getting a shot and donning a mask demonstrate the compassion of Jesus. It shows love. It shows that you worship God above all else.

I entreat you to make the compassionate choice. It has never been about you anymore than it’s been about me. My twelve-year-old, half-vaxxed little girl who I adore is my reason for masking. Traveling out of state with my fully vaxxed teen is why my clothes drying rack is currently wearing about fifteen masks–and that twelve-year-old is why we will suck up wearing masks in nearly 100 degree weather. It’s about keeping others safe. Always.

Who can you protect from illness, hospitalization, and possible death this week?

Categories
Ministry

Mardi Gras Reflections

Oh, what a difference a year makes! We are getting closer to that time. You know the one I mean. That day when Covid began to hit our shores, when we could no longer think about the virus being “over there” in China or Spain or Italy. When we looked at those countries being on full lock-down and thought, Thank goodness that’s not us having to do that.

But we’re not there, yet. As I look back on Mardi Gras a year ago, it’s with happy thoughts. It was a gorgeous winter day, much like today. The sun was out and it was warmer than it had been. That brought an energetic vibe to everyone we encountered. My older daughter was in her first semester of in-person classes at the local community college as part of her dual enrollment program. That left my younger daughter and me with a few hours to while away, often sitting in the library and knocking out her classes.

On this particular day, completely for kicks and giggles, she and I were wearing Mardi Gras beads that I had from a party several years ago. The day was so gorgeous that we couldn’t stand being stuck in the library after weeks of cold, grey weather. (Sound familiar?) We decided to take a walk around downtown Wilmington, going down to Cape Fear Spice Merchants and exploring various small shops in between.

I won’t bore you with every place we visited. We dropped in on a local bookseller who asked about my soap business. When I told her I was writing a book, she said to let her know when it’s out so she can buy it and stock it. I wasn’t prepared for that! I just happen to like this lady and her shop, but hello, elevator pitch–before my book was even finished! We explored a new-to-us small grocery with bulk spices and herbs and got ice cream (yeah, it was that warm). We smiled at people and said “hi.” We held hands and acted a little silly and just had a wonderful time.

As we’re home today, nowhere near downtown, we remember that day fondly. It was certainly a very different Mardi Gras from what today looks like. A lot of those businesses are operating under very limited hours. The bookshop only allows browsing a couple of days a week. By all accounts, downtown is more like a ghost town with very few people out and about on their lunch hours since so many people are working from home or have lost their jobs altogether.

Mardi Gras–Fat Tuesday–is the day before Lent, a time of sacrifice and reflection before Easter. When we’ve sacrificed so much that we used to take for granted, things like communal worship, hugs, social time, even sitting in the library to read, it’s hard to think of what else we can sacrifice. Some people have had to sacrifice family time (thank you front-line workers!) and their health. Others have lost loved ones due to the virus. When put that way, what else do we have to give up?

Instead of subtracting something from our lives this Lenten season, why not add to them? What if we were to spend Lent reading books or other materials that will serve to help us love God and others better? What if we were to add prayerful meditation to our days where we sit in silence and listen for God to speak? Or what if we were to learn how to do something that will benefit someone else in the Kingdom of God? Or, how about we pray for a different person each day of Lent, no repeats?

This Lenten season is definitely much different from last year’s. If you’re like my family, you probably felt like it was some crazy sort of hyper-Lent where you were sacrificing something new every day of Lent without intention or prayerful forethought. We will make the best of this, using the space of covid-induced sacrifices to be mindful of new ways to love God and love others.

Categories
Ministry Writing

Reflections and Lessons, 2020 edition

As I sit here at the tail end of 2020 and look back at this rather interesting year, I have the opportunity to reflect on the lessons this year has taught me and to see ways in which I’ve certainly changed.

First, my Facebook memories reminded me of how much I was looking forward to putting 2016 behind me. I hope this isn’t going to be a trend every four years!

This year began hopeful. My teen was going into her second semester of dual enrollment and excited about having in-person classes after a semester of doing all online classes. She was busting her hiney and the days started early, but she enjoyed the vibe and energy of being in a college classroom. My tween was going to be wrapping up her life as an elementary school student and looking forward to what lay ahead of her–mission camp just for rising sixth graders, her last spring children’s program at church, and “graduating” from children’s ministry into youth. There’d be a year when both my girls would be in youth group together. (I joked to our youth minister that I’d be praying extra for him, and to let me know if I needed to make a liquor run for him.)

In late February, I finished the first rough draft of my book Finding Peace. Hours at the library while my teen was in class afforded me ample time to write and concentrated time to teach my tween, leaving my afternoons and evenings free to work (when I wasn’t working out in some way). For a writer, these were halcyon, though busy, days. Every day in January and February, I met my writing goals with words to spare.

Then March hit. We had no idea how bad it’d be. The first thing in our lives to fall was school; my teen’s classes went back to all online. It was tough. There were just some classes that needed to be in person for her optimal learning, and her English professor hosed the class over horribly. Church was the next to go. Then soccer season, dance classes, the dance recital, yoga classes, and finally, the highlight of my tween’s year–marine biology camp. We cried together over this loss.

In two months of non-stop losses, living in this crisis mode, trying to understand the pandemic and how to keep ourselves safe, we adapted to new ways of being. Counseling appointments involved long walks and phone sessions. I spent hours a week working out–walking, yoga, weight training–everything I’d been doing before the shutdown. Our hair got long, we adopted the mask life, and we emailed and wrote letters and cards like never before. Suddenly, emails and texts weren’t good enough.

But then in the midst of the losses, gains started showing up. My pastor-friend Cynthia who pastors a Presbyterian church outside of Philly invited me to join in a ladies’ Bible study via Zoom. Over the course of the coming weeks and months, I got the pleasure of getting to know these awesome ladies and learning from them. As the summer blew up with Black Lives Matter peaceful protests and Confederate monuments came crashing down across the south, my rural southern self got to share experiences and perspectives with my new urban/suburban northern friends.

As summer wore on, the refusal of people to abide by simple rules (wear masks and maintain social distance) irritated me. All these people shouting, “My body, my choice!” were overlooking the most basic, simple task of loving others by keeping their germs to themselves. I stayed away from people for the most part, getting out to go grocery shopping (masked and sanitized with handwashing and sanitizing my phone when I got home). We went to the beach where we could enjoy fresh air, sunshine, fun, and organic social distancing.

My teen and I dared to go to the beach for a weekend, staying in a new beachfront hotel. Even though hotel stays are higher risk than we’re accustomed to, we were comfortable with the owner’s Covid response. Most people followed the rules with no problems, and, hey, we were at the beach.

As school started in mid-summer, I expanded my ministry to include my tween’s best friend in our homeschool. I did it mostly to help the girl and her mom. I learned that not everyone is appreciative of what others do for them. I discovered that some people will take advantage of my kindness, and even with a successful homeschool teacher and environment, parent involvement is still mandatory for student success. Now I have a whole new appreciation for what my teacher friends go through.

With any and every ministry, it’s vital to know when to let go. It’s important to recognize when the work is done, when the helper has maxed out her resources, and when it’s time to bless the parishioner and send them on to somewhere that can grab the baton and carry them farther. That time came. My family affirmed this nudging from the Spirit as well as admitting they’re happy they’ll have more of me again.

I learned the importance of self care. I neglected myself for a few months and started feeling the effects of it. The time I’d had in the spring to walk, practice yoga, and tone up disappeared by the fall. By the time my other student went home, it was time to start making dinner.

I learned that I have absolutely no patience or tolerance for narcissistic, self-centered, attention-seeking people. As social distancing and staying at home continued, my social media streams began to annoy me. “Tell me how great I am” posts or endless selfies searching for praise and compliments made me gag. I wondered repeatedly how people can be so narcissistic. It seemed that people needed more and more affirmations from other people when I was thinking, “Let God give you your affirmations, not your social media friends.”

This self-centered behavior went offline, stepping off the screens and manifesting itself in real-life situations. As the pandemic wore on and all the cautionary steps got old and tedious, I heard more and more lame excuses for not wearing masks. One woman told me, “God will protect me from the virus” as her family and she attended church where almost no one masks. Yet, she owns a gun, buckles her little one in his booster seat, and bought a taser for her elementary-aged child “for her protection.” I guess God’s protection only happens within the walls of the church? My teen visited my parents’ church and, after observing the lackadaisical attitudes about mask wearing and safety, declared, “If I were looking for a church or new to Christianity, that would turn me off of the faith entirely.” Christians are supposed to follow the example set by Christ and sacrifice and show love to others, not violate the Torah by testing God.

I learned that I have developed zero tolerance for Christians who aren’t willing to live into Jesus’ command to “Love one another as I have loved you.” Jesus loved us all the way to the cross, but we can’t love each other enough to strap a bit of cotton over our noses and mouths to protect others from our germs.

Maybe it’s my age, but I learned I have zero fucks left to give. Then again, this has been the case for a while. There are people the thought of whom sparks joy for me, and there are people who give me an ugly feeling in my gut. I don’t have time or psychic energy to waste on users and people who are careless with those outside of themselves. I make time for people who have it all together with humility and joy, who can magnify positive energy. I can let go of the former and embrace the latter as we journey together into the New Year. Journey with me as we share love, positivity, and bless each other and those we encounter.

Enjoy this blog? Please spread the word.

RSS
Follow by Email
LinkedIn
Share
INSTAGRAM