Heart for Haiti

This morning my eyes moved from Fox's TV images of Port-au-Prince to my digital frame photos of Stacey and Bryan when they went to Haiti last year on a medical trip to the photo I took when trying to bring Little Stuff home with us after Christmas!
 Thanks to technology, we have received word that the missionaries we know who currently serve in Haiti have escaped injury from the devastating earthquake that rocked PAP on Tuesday evening. Initially, two women from our church's college and career group went to serve as missionaries in Haiti. Although we haven't journeyed to Haiti in years, a part of Dave's heart has stayed in that island nation since he first visited with Jerry McFarland in 1987. Dave and I returned in 1988 so I could experience malaria first hand; we made later, healthier trips; and Dave took each of our sons on his own father-son mission trip to Haiti. Our first two missionary friends introduced us to others serving in PAP, among them, a single woman from Ohio who chose to adopt 12 Haitian children, and an American music teacher whose Creole fluency amazed us. He and one of the missionaries eventually married each other and have stayed in Haiti. More recently, one of my former students, his family, and parents work at the Baptist Mission.
Even before a 7.0 earthquake hit, Haitian life represented chaos and deprivation. Since all education is private and costly, illiteracy abounds, as does disease, superstition, vodoo, and poverty. My heart aches for the people of Haiti, and my Irish ire fumes when I hear people say that Haiti deserved this judgment from God. When leaders of Jesus' day tried to trap Him, he told a bit of history about the tower in Siloam. As Luke 13 records it, Jesus faced those who quickly wanted to access blame for a catastrophic event. "Now there were some present at that time who told Jesus about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mixed with their sacrifices. Jesus answered, 'Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans because they suffered this way? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish. Of those eighteen who died when the tower in Siloam fell on them—do you think they were more guilty than all the others living in Jerusalem? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish.'” Obviously, Jesus' message warned each listener to take inventory of his own soul and not to judge others' circumstances. As always, Jesus' wisdom speaks to every age.

Fear and Wonder

"Don't feel hurt, " my daughter-in-law told Dave. "When your granddaughter saw an off-duty Santa at Sam's Club, she was like white on rice hangin' on to my Mom." The two-year-old registered pure terror then, despite the Santa's efforts to engage her in friendly conversation. The blue-eyed toddler stole glances and kept asking her Mommy,"Where he go?" And before the shopping ended, she did say "Merry Christmas" to him.  Thus, Dave remained optimistic: after all, this Santa was her Granpa. The red suit, spats, hat and glasses came from a costume company, but the smile, voice and beard would be 100% Granpa. Dave and I arrived in Statesboro on Thursday afternoon, and Granpa tried on the outfit then because he planned to play Santa at two daycares on Friday, one being hers! "Daddy, No, I no like him!"  Not exactly a rave review!

Dave loves kids and moved slowly the next day when his granddaughter, frightened and crying, clung to Nanny Scarlet. Smart Granpa talked and then began to play ball with the four toddlers there, winning their trust and then handing out their gifts. As the picture explains, the fear turned to wonder and love.

I think about the shepherds, ones we consider highly favored to have received the sky-shattering birth announcement of the Christ child. "They were sore afraid," says the KJV; the NIV translates that "They were terrified." As I face a righteous God as presented in the law, terror fills me too. Only when He condescends to demonstrate His grace and mercy, does my fear turn to wonder.

The Difference Between Do and Done

For years I lived by the "to do" list. Almost every night before I went to bed, I wrote a 4 X 6 card with the things to be accomplished the next day. Theoretically, I then fell asleep, having cleared my mind of responsibilities by having them written on my card.
However, many nights I lay with open eyes mentally adding things until I got up and added another card or started with a fresh card detailing the new "others" on the list.

Many years ago my Mom told our Bible study that we girls expected too much of ourselves. She told us we went to bed discouraged because we had only crossed 15 items off our 23-item list. Had we not done 15 things? Where did we lose sight of the accomplishments? In her day Monday was wash DAY -- all day. Sorting heralded the start of the process. Clothes went into the wringer washer, then to the extractor, then out on the clothesline (think New York State winters!). When dried, or frozen, the clothes came into the house, went on radiators if thawing was required, and were folded and put away. Since no one then owned the amount of clothing we do now, the wash day completion was imperative. Even with Mom's pep talk, I spent years living by the legalism of the "to do" list.

 At the end of our first year of retirement and my year anniversary of making no "to do" lists, I love the grace of life lived without legalism. This past Sunday Dave and I took a "car hike" after lunch. I asked Dave to stop the Jeep as we crossed a tiny tributary of Bear Creek when the sunlight and water caught my attention. I got out and a branch caught a shaft of sunlight and dazzled in front of my lens. We had just visited a local artist's fused glass studio, bought one of her pieces as a Christmas gift, and enjoyed the beauty and serenity of her yard. Sunday afternoon beckoned us to revel in God's creation -- and no  "to do" list for Monday hung over my head. Such freedom!
Yesterday, after cleaning, dusting and completing the window washing, Dave and I opted for a mid-afternoon DVD after a soak in the hot tub. 

I thought of the parallels between life in the fast lane and retirement pacing  as they compare to one's faith. So many religions relate security of the next life and comfort in this world to performance. Follow such a religion and the "to do" list hangs precariously over my head. Do a prescribed prayer, sacrifice, duty, etc. and I will please the chosen deity. Living by grace in all that Jesus accomplished on my behalf means He accepts me as His child. That doesn't mean license (St. Augustine said, "Love God and do as you please.") but it means living and serving out of gratitude and not obligation. The Gospel offers relationship and not religion. As my pastor said on Sunday, "Legalism says 'do'; the Gospel says 'done.'"

Law of Flesh -- Law of Spirit

Currently, a group of women from Grace Reformed Church is studying Paul's letter to the churches in Galatia. Poised in Galatians 4 and 5, I keep thinking my way through the legalism that so easily trips me up. The Pharisees tried diligently to keep the law in the strictest ways. Yet, when they gave 39 lashes instead of the 40 legally prescribed, they actually acknowledged their inability to keep the law flawlessly. Whenever I consider the law of the flesh, I look at things that aren't hard for me to do. Then I mentally chastise others who can't keep my self-made laws while excusing myself from areas of my failure. No wonder I find no rest in trying to be legalistic. One minute I can soar on clouds of arrogant superiority and then quickly crash in the ashes of inferiority! What a mess I am when huddled in the mire of trying to keep laws. By that I don't just mean the Ten Commandments. People who do not prescribe to that biblical code do verbally or tacitly choose some self-imposed standard; any shred of honesty will quickly testify to the fact that we can't keep our own standards.
If we step aside and look at the law of the spirit we find two facts: it's even harder to keep than jot and tittle record keeping, and it's been accomplished for us with perfection.
The spirit of law literally goes to the heart of the matter. Now, not only do my acts condemn me; but my attitudes and thoughts also confirm my guilt. Don't commit adultery really means don't even look at a woman with lust in the mind and heart. Who could ever keep such a standard? Martin Luther tried physical pain as he crawled step by step on his knees while he prayed. No relief or eased conscience followed these acts of contrition and penance. However, the perfect law keeper entered this world and, in my place, met the requirements of the law. Unbelievably, He chose to impute His perfection to me. No wonder Issac Watts wrote about amazing grace! Consider Paul's words from Galatians 4:4-6. "God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under law, to redeem those under law, that we might receive the full rights of sons. Because you are sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out, “Abba, Father.'" I'll keep processing the truths of grace as Paul lays them out in Galatians, for I have much to learn before I sleep, much to learn before I sleep.

Colorful Reminders

As we drove up to Winding Ridge yesterday, I took this photo through the Jeep's sunroof.

Lately, autumn's colors pop more each day. I've even got the tripod set on the porch, hoping to capture the same scene as it changes daily. One day I'll post that moment of beauty that captures the essence of fall 2009. The season will flee all too soon, giving way to what the almanac promises: a hard winter. So each day's glimpse offers a taste of grace, most obviously in a visual offering.

Musically, I have recently joined the Garrett County Choral Society, where seeing grace notes reminds me of grace-filled sound bites. Yes, I do have to copy the syllable-by-syllable pronunciation of the German for Bach's Cantata140, but the harmonies of the chorale make the effort worth it. The 70-member group practices each Sunday evening for 2 1/2 hours simply to make music together.

Visual and auditory grace notes, because they demand our attention, can overpower other graces. My husband just took the time to print out each song that's on my iPod. Dave's computer skills grace me everyday. Last night he changed the profile photo for my college Divas' (Divinely Inspired Vivacious Affectionate Sisterhood) Facebook page. And a friend who's collected quotes for years mailed me a typed copy last week. To quote Luther, "The heart of the giver makes the gift dear and precious." Yet another friend from Bible study gave me a jar of her homemade cream, a cream that has given her the skin of a youngster!

Grace notes in music, small in notation and quick in performance, make a lush difference in a tune. Why don't we all purpose to "grace" someone this day? The apostle John reminds us, "From the fullness of His grace we have all received one blessing after another." (John 1:16)

Monday Musings

The changes occurring here on Winding Ridge remind me that weather proves unforgiving. The ferns' brilliant green gives way to yellow before turning brown and dying. As I meditate on yesterday's sermon, drawn from Matthew 6, I find myself comparing the effects of my ferns with the demise of relationships when I withhold forgiveness.

At the end of what we commonly refer to as he Lord's Prayer, God adds a sort of P.S., again bringing up the topic of forgiveness. Within the prayer, at verse 12, we pray, "and forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors." Yet, in verses 14 and 15, the addendum comes as the Lord resurrects the forgiveness topic again. "For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, but if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses."

When people knowingly withhold forgiveness, such grievous pain results. As I harbor my hurt soul, anger develops, often morphing into slander and condescension. Yet I daily seek the Lord for His forgiveness of my sins, grateful for his mercy and grace that he lavishes on me. Why withhold from another the cleansing power that revitalizes? Pride, stubbornness and fear come to mind, and I dare not dismiss such character flaws. God's about the business of sanctification, conforming me into the likeness of Christ. This week must involve a fresh look at my life.

But what about cases where I need to forgive but am ignorant of the offense? Let me return to the fern illustration. When Dave and I returned from a trip this summer, we discovered a clump of fern fringed with some green but dead brown at its center. A mystery to us as to the cause, the damage testified to devastation at the center despite some green feigning life. In our human relationships the subtle distancing, the awkwardness of now infrequent conversations, the busyness that separates us may indicate the need to ask if something between us needs reconciliation. I must let go of my self-justifying because God has forgiven me everything and He calls me to live as His disciple. I have some soul searching to do this week, but Jesus has promised to walk with me through it.

Don't Miss Jesus

Legalism twists our view of Jesus. Whether current news stories like Jaycee Dugard, or the horrible headlines from decades ago when Jim Jones' followers died together, we seriously misrepresent Jesus when we beat people over the head with laws. We often laugh at the arbitrary laws the Pharisees foisted upon first century Jews: A devout Jew could ride a donkey on the Sabbath but could not use a switch to move the animal faster because that would lay a burden on the donkey. One could only walk a certain number of steps on the Sabbath without transforming getting to worship into work, something forbidden for Jews following the law. Even today, some hotels in Israel have "Shabbat" elevators. On the Sabbath these elevators stop at every floor so orthodox Jews do not have to do the work of pushing the button for their desired floor.
Yet are we not as guilty of legalism? With shame, I remember students accosted for wearing no socks or guys forbidden to have any facial hair. The administrators surely could have looked into those individual faces and seen a need for a simple, "Good morning. How are things going?" I too have fallen into a posture that's placed law before grace, and I repent of it.
When I welcomed students into a Christian high school, I used to tell them that we were not an angel factory. Christian students and teachers would disappoint them many times over, whether out of ignorance, fear, control or anger. Jesus' followers don't always represent Him well. Please look to Jesus and model Him. I also warned students that although classes might often start with prayer or singing, and chapel occurred weekly, each student needed a personal encounter with the living Christ. Living on "borrowed light" will translate into personal darkness, a profound disappointment over a relationship that never really existed. I'd tell the incoming freshmen to make sure that in their years at the school they did not miss Jesus.
Whenever our love for God morphs into ways of impressing others or controlling them, we have lost grace, and we cause others to miss Jesus. Don't get me wrong. God is sovereign and will call His own. Scripture tells us that the Gospel will be an offense to some, but as my pastor has said, "Woe to us if we are that offense." If some misguided Christian has spoken venom to you, seemed terribly offensive and ungracious, please lift your eyes to the author and perfecter of our faith. Follow Him and don't miss Jesus.

Grace, Earned Versus Unmerited

I had been reading Yancy's What's So Amazing About Grace earlier in the day and was struck by the disarming sweetness of it.Yancy says, "Grace comes from outside, as a gift and not as an achievement." Yet I can get caught in thinking and doing, assuming I somehow can earn God's favor. While my theology affirms the doctrine of unmerited favor, my life too often shows something very different. I fall into the Satan-made trap of performance, somehow trying to earn that which God has already conferred on me through the finished work of His Son.

So what traps snap upon me most? Oh, I can fall into any of the ones that the world tantalizes me with, whether brains, bucks, brawn, or beauty. A look at various people from around the globe demonstrates the universality of trying to earn grace. Ben Franklin kept a book of 13 virtues that he tried -- unsuccessfully -- to keep all his life. In Haiti, people cut themselves and then wallow through a mud pit until they can reach a cross stationed at the end of the pit.

Thus, my attempts to understand and appropriate grace create a real struggle in everyday life. Experiencing grace in a church setting, an antithetical as it seems, can prove very difficult. I find myself agreeing with Yancy when he describes finding grace in music, the beauty of the creation, and in love. As I sat on the back porch and watched my granddaughter raise her hands and simply take in the joy in her backyard, I think I took a closer step to grasping God's grace toward me. Just receive.