Blog Archives
Our Facebook Identity verses Our Identity In Christ
I log on to Facebook. Something I thought would only be for my son and daughter. But I find friends there from grade school, high school, and college. We reconnect electronically. As we “friend” each other, we scroll through photos, posts, and the info page—education and work, philosophy (religious and political views), arts and entertainment, activities and interests, and so on. We look to see who we might connect with, and we find those things that make up our friends’ identities—or at least that part of their identity that Facebook has space to include.
I scroll past “religious views.” I see Jesus, unconditional love, believer, Christian-open and inclusive, following Jesus, Child of God.
Christian, without any qualifiers is missing from all but a few. Some Christian friends—and I—leave off our religious views entirely.
I wonder what it is about our identity in Christ that makes us choose how we express that identity in this particular electronic media, but I also think about how we respond to others who ask us about our religion. How do we express our religious viewpoint–our faith–to those who only see our “online” presence? Or, for that matter, to those who we first meet?
Kathleen Norris, in her book Amazing Grace: A Vocabulary of Faith touches on our identity as Christians. She notes that she is reluctant to speak of herself as a “Christian” because she knows how deficient she is in practice. But, she is reluctant also because “so many of the people who make the most of their ‘Christianity’ in public represent a distorted version of the faith.” She adds that so many in America regard “Christian” as synonymous with “fundamentalist,” and that the media seems “bent on perpetuating” that error.
I agree with her and grapple with this issue. It is not that I don’t find my identity in Christ. I do. But, the negative views of “Christianity” that ooze from history, and through the media and some “Christian” public figures—well, let’s face it, the negative views are, sadly, well deserved. They even stir up anger and heartache in me—like the burning of the Koran recently that resulted in violence and death in the Middle East.
And so, when I first meet someone or publicize on a medium where people might “meet” me only electronically and not ever get to know me, I want to distance myself from the public view of “Christianity.” Rather than “Christianity” allowing me to connect with others, I fear it will create an unwarranted divide.
It isn’t just the media image of Christianity either. As Norris states, “I know how deficient I am in practice.” I, too, am a blemished and broken human. I am deficient without God’s grace and mercy. I am deficient without the loving God who sent his son to the cross to bear my sins.
So, in the context of twenty-first century America, and knowing that I am broken and blemished, publicizing—headlining—that I am a Christian—seems counter-productive. It is a roadblock for the unbeliever—or people of other faiths—to relationship with Christ-followers.
I don’t know how to redeem “Christianity” for Christ except through relationship with others. If “Christianity” is suspect and associated by some with hate, divisiveness, violence, or arrogance, I can’t redeem Christianity if using that word to identify who I am creates a barrier before I even have the chance to establish rapport.
And so, as I walk through holy week—knowing that God loved the world so much that he gave his only son to die on the cross—I look to the cross for answers. The only answer that seems clear is finding my identity in Christ and inviting Christ to transform me so that I may love others fully. I know that love is the heart of Christian faith. And, that Christ suffered the cross because of God’s love for all of humanity.
In twenty-first century America, keeping a distance from the “C” word seems almost necessary. Instead of posting my identity on Facebook, I need to turn toward Christ and pursue my relationship with Him so that I may meet others with His love, as an image-bearer of God. To let God transform me so that He might use me to transform the hearts of others.
”Let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth” 1 John 3:18.
”Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” 1 Corinthians 12:5-8
Like this:
Light Pink Puffs of God’s Creation
Sun breaks today. Through the clouds. And, I see the beauty of the cherry blossoms. Light pink puffs like cotton candy set gently against the branches.
Such beauty.
How can I—how could I—ever doubt your existence, your faithfulness, your presence?
Chickadees settle on the branches, soft voices singing. Petals fall like tears, soaking the ground with pink polka dots fragrant with God’s creation.
Such joy.
How can we look upon the Earth and not weep at the beauty or know joy? How can we not know there is a creator?
I breath in and reach toward beauty and joy. I reach toward the creator and celebrate His creation.
Counting my blessings of gratitude with Ann Voskamp at A Holy Experience.
#102 – 120
Gratitude for…
A crisp spring morning
the grass that needs mowing
the son sleeping too long
warm tea and flannel
a gentle smile from my husband
good work for the day
words
more words
moments of silence
a short text message from daughter
a calendar that says she’ll be home this week
cooking a meal with my son
sharing that meal as a family
a week to walk toward the cross
time to reflect on that walk
unfathomable sacrifice
His loving arms
A Book Review: Half the Church by Carolyn Custis James
“Into this world of breathtaking opportunities and shocking atrocities, the church attempts to speak with relevance to women. But the message often fails to address the opportunities, changes and contingencies of life in a fallen world. It is not far-reaching enough to encompass every woman’s whole life within this multicultural, rapidly changing world.”
– Carolyn Custis James, Half the Church: Recapturing God’s Global Vision for Women (Zondervan 2010)
I spent Friday evening and part of the day Saturday reading Carolyn Custis James’ new book, Half the Church. The quote above, printed on the inside cover, caught my attention. I often have felt short-changed by the message sent to women in the church—the message that we are to be wives and mothers first and that we are to submit to our husbands and take a backseat to the work of men in the church.
I’ve longed for more. I’ve longed to engage fully in the community.
Part of my longing and my inability to engage fully in the community is because I’ve bought into that message, at least partly. I’ve bought into the message that draws a line “establishing parameters for how much or how little we are permitted to do in the church” and that what I have to offer is “restricted to appropriate zones within the church” (p. 48-49). I haven’t bought into it intentionally—in fact, I’ve resisted it—but I let it seep in through the chinks in my armor and interfere with my identity as a woman Christ-follower. And, because I perceived that other women in the church willingly submitted to the message, I slowly conformed to the message.
Half the Church is refreshing. Using beautiful images of several women from Scripture, James paints a beautiful picture of God’s plan for women. She seeks to answer three questions:
(1) What message does the church offer women in the twenty-first century?
(2)What will the church do to address the rampant suffering of women throughout the world?
(3) What message are we sending to the world by how we value and mobilize our own daughters? (p. 41).
Candidly, I did not walk away with solid answers to those three questions. But, I’m not sure they were the questions I needed answered. Instead, I walked away with a refreshing view of God’s vision for women as His image bearers and ezars (warriors). That He desires me to be a vital contributor to the community—that He is counting on me to share the gifts He blessed me with. Only when I share my gifts do I enter God’s kingdom and carry out things I could never imagine.
So, as I reflect on the identity that I have through my relationship with Christ, I hold a beautiful, transformed, image, as God intended. Perhaps within the church I will still struggle to share my gifts if they are not welcome—if the role the church continues to offer women is limited. But, I don’t want my identity to be dominated by a debate about the role of women. Instead, I will seek to make my identity in Christ dominated by loving God and sharing the gifts He has given me in the everyday kingdom.
If you want a refreshing look at the vision God has for women in this broken world, I encourage you to read Half the Church. You might be disappointed that James doesn’t expressly address what the church can do to address the suffering of women in the world. But, I don’t think that is what she intended when she raised the question. Rather, I think she leaves that to us and our response to Christ. As we lean into Christ and engage in the kingdom as image bearers and warriors for Christ, He equips us to respond to the suffering and injustice in the world.
When God Taps on My Shoulder.
I feel God tap on my shoulder sometimes. Call Judy. Have coffee with Denise. Go visit Ryan and Dina and the kids. Make time for those you love and care about.
I ignore the shoulder tap. Work. Fatigue. Tomorrow is soon enough.
God taps on my shoulder again. And, I hear His voice. This is what matters. This . . . is . . . what . . . matters. Love others. That’s what I intend for your life.
Okay, I think. I know that is what You intend for my life. But what about work and all I have to do?
I’ll reach out. . . Soon.
And then the blow comes. This time it isn’t a shoulder tap. But, instead, heart-break. And, regrets.
Too late. No chance for that cup of tea. Or laughter. Or hugs. Or catching up on each other’s lives.
No chance to say thank you for just being you. For being part of my life. Part of my kids’ lives. For making my life better.
Forgive me. Forgive my selfish hours. Priorities misplaced. Excuses for not taking an hour or two just to laugh with you.
Your smile and laughter fade in the distance now. Beyond my reach.
Know that you are loved.
Know that next time God taps me on the shoulder, I will listen because I will hear your voice singing and laughing in the distance.
Like this:
Clothed with the Love of Christ.
I wondered into the sanctuary and sat silently, anticipating worship. I glanced around as others filed in, bundled in their coats and hats. Layers of clothing. We had been warned: no heat in the sanctuary. The furnace had gone out. So, as we prepared for worship, we kept on our hats and gloves and coats.
Just before worship began, the musicians showed up, bundled up, just like us. I smiled–my favorite musician was playing today. Trent. Young father, husband, and friend and mentor to my son. But the fact that I know Trent is not why he is my favorite musician at church. (Well, maybe that helps a little!)
When Trent plays worship music, he displays joy. I can’t describe it, really. I watch him and it is as if he were dancing before God. The pure joy he expresses when he plays is raw and real. Despite the fact that his fingers must be freezing, he plays the banjo and mandolin with passion.
I look at him and I think — I want what he has. A big grin comes to my face. You can’t help but smile when you see him. His face and his movement express Christ’s joy.
Even when he isn’t playing music his eyes and smile reflect Christ. The way he connects with the person he is talking to. The genuine warmth and sincerity of his words. His compassion, kindness, gentleness. I think of his friendship with my son and what that friendship means to him. I think, as a mom, how I value that friendship for my son. How grateful I am that God brought Trent into my son’s life.
He is a gentle soul clothed with the love of Christ.
And, so as I worship Christ today, I think of Trent and what it means to live our faith and reflect Christ. Truly reflect Christ. To have His light shine through us.
I remember Paul’s letter to the Colossians:
Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity. Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts . . . And be thankful.” Colossians 3:12-15
I read that verse again. And I realize that allowing the peace of Christ to rule in my heart that will allow me to fully reflect him — not just my effort to display compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. To “clothe” myself with these things requires first that I seek Christ’s face–seek a relationship with Him. He will clothe me in genuine, God-inspired compassion, kindness and humility. He will help me to display gentleness and patience and show me how to forgive fully. He will show me how to love completely.
And so, I turn toward Christ in this season of Epiphany.
