Just a few short thoughts on children and fear that I posted on my ministry site.
Fear and Anxiety
Friday 28 December 2012
Thursday 27 December 2012
The Gift of a Sturdy Gospel
Well, I find myself here in the midst of the Christmas season confused, as usual. Sometimes I think that being confused is simply a bi-product of having a mind that is constantly trying to figure things out. As soon as I seem to come close to grasping one idea, I have to find others to wrestle with. And this Christmas has been, and continues to be, a time of wrestling for me.
Christmas seems to be a time for simple things. Simple things like friends, family, love, sharing, and a baby in a manger. And yet none of these things seem simple to me. When I listen to Christmas music or attend Christmas worship services I hear all kinds of words that I know. Words that I think I should understand, and yet I don't. I just don't. The meaning of friends, family, love and sharing are all things I wrestle with all the time, but at this time of year it's the baby in the manger that has me completely flummoxed.
I want to understand. I want it to all make sense. But I hear the words and I'm just baffled. What does it mean that God came to live on earth? What does it mean that God came as a baby? What does it mean for us to celebrate that fact? The messages I receive seem to tell me that this is easy, that I should rejoice, that I should understand and yet...
Perhaps if I had grown up in an Eastern tradition I would know what to do with the mystery. Because clearly this whole baby in a manger thing is mystery for me. I do sometimes notice that we mention mystery in the services I attend. But it's more mystery as awe, bowing down in wonder. Don't get me wrong, I love that kind of mystery. But rarely do I hear talk of mystery in terms of complete inability to comprehend on a cognitive or emotional level. And that's where I kind of find myself. I just can't seem to wrap my head around this Christ-child. I find myself wrestling, not rejoicing.
So the one thing that I have found most meaningful to me this Christmas is the gift of a sturdy gospel. By that I mean scriptures that have withstood the test of time. Scriptures that speak regardless of my ability to comprehend them. Scriptures that are not threatened or harmed by my wrestling. Scriptures that are not simple or straightforward. Scriptures that have been written by and for real people. Scriptures that are mystery.
Sometimes I have to remind myself that the Christian Bible really is mystery. So often in contemporary Christianity I hear scripture used as the answer key to the exam booklet of life. I go through life, a little problem comes up, I pray and read a verse, and the little problem goes away. Faith is simple. Faith is straightforward. The Bible is happiness packaged in flashy wrapping and tied with a neat bow. But I just haven't experienced the Bible or faith like that. And I haven't experienced life that way either. Life is messy. Far messier than a little exam booklet!
While sometimes I think it would be easier if the Bible was actually a book of answers, I know that in the end a Bible like that would be insufficient. It would not be sturdy. I need a sturdy gospel. Sturdiness does not develop out of simplicity and happiness. Sturdiness develops out of wrestling and struggle alongside profound joy. And I am endlessly grateful that the gospel of Jesus Christ is a gospel of wrestling not of pat answers. Because pat answers simply fall flat in the face of real life.
Christmas seems to be a time for simple things. Simple things like friends, family, love, sharing, and a baby in a manger. And yet none of these things seem simple to me. When I listen to Christmas music or attend Christmas worship services I hear all kinds of words that I know. Words that I think I should understand, and yet I don't. I just don't. The meaning of friends, family, love and sharing are all things I wrestle with all the time, but at this time of year it's the baby in the manger that has me completely flummoxed.
I want to understand. I want it to all make sense. But I hear the words and I'm just baffled. What does it mean that God came to live on earth? What does it mean that God came as a baby? What does it mean for us to celebrate that fact? The messages I receive seem to tell me that this is easy, that I should rejoice, that I should understand and yet...
Perhaps if I had grown up in an Eastern tradition I would know what to do with the mystery. Because clearly this whole baby in a manger thing is mystery for me. I do sometimes notice that we mention mystery in the services I attend. But it's more mystery as awe, bowing down in wonder. Don't get me wrong, I love that kind of mystery. But rarely do I hear talk of mystery in terms of complete inability to comprehend on a cognitive or emotional level. And that's where I kind of find myself. I just can't seem to wrap my head around this Christ-child. I find myself wrestling, not rejoicing.
So the one thing that I have found most meaningful to me this Christmas is the gift of a sturdy gospel. By that I mean scriptures that have withstood the test of time. Scriptures that speak regardless of my ability to comprehend them. Scriptures that are not threatened or harmed by my wrestling. Scriptures that are not simple or straightforward. Scriptures that have been written by and for real people. Scriptures that are mystery.
Sometimes I have to remind myself that the Christian Bible really is mystery. So often in contemporary Christianity I hear scripture used as the answer key to the exam booklet of life. I go through life, a little problem comes up, I pray and read a verse, and the little problem goes away. Faith is simple. Faith is straightforward. The Bible is happiness packaged in flashy wrapping and tied with a neat bow. But I just haven't experienced the Bible or faith like that. And I haven't experienced life that way either. Life is messy. Far messier than a little exam booklet!
While sometimes I think it would be easier if the Bible was actually a book of answers, I know that in the end a Bible like that would be insufficient. It would not be sturdy. I need a sturdy gospel. Sturdiness does not develop out of simplicity and happiness. Sturdiness develops out of wrestling and struggle alongside profound joy. And I am endlessly grateful that the gospel of Jesus Christ is a gospel of wrestling not of pat answers. Because pat answers simply fall flat in the face of real life.
Wednesday 19 December 2012
It may not be my House, but it is my Home
It is not uncommon, I have experienced, to hear people speak of the difference between a house and a home. A house being described more in terms of the physical structure, while a home denotes something more experiential or with more emotional value. For me, these two words have taken on significant meaning since as an adult, I have always rented the space in which I live. For me, a house is something you can own, it can be purchased, while a home can, and often must, be created anywhere.
I have now lived in 6 (or 8 depending how I count) different rental spaces in the past 18 years of my life. It has often been the case for me, that people ask me when I am going "home." I understand what they mean. They want to know when I will be returning to visit my parent's house. And sometimes I do think of that space as my home as well. Yet it is my home in terms of memory, it is my home in terms of my family of origin, it is not, however, my home in terms of the space in which I have settled, my sanctuary, where my being resides and lives. Renting space does not mean I have no home. Renting space means I don't own a house. There is a massive distinction it seems to me.
The people I have encountered over the years have understood this distinction to various degrees. Good friends who have visited our home (the homes Alicia and I have created) have certainly entered into those spaces with a sense of respect and honouring of the home we have created. Occasionally the owners of those spaces have also shown that respect. However, not all people have done so. To some, our space is just a temporary flop house of sorts. It's where we dump our stuff in between where we are now and the permanent life we might someday have. The space is not ours, it belongs to someone else, and thus it is not our house, and there is no home. It is simply space with stuff in it. This whole idea of not owning a house goes hand in hand with not being an adult. Adults, own houses, adults get married, adults are employed or raise children. Thus, I am not an adult, and I have no home. This is demeaning.
Alicia and I are both adults and we have a home. We have had 4 homes together. Each one has been a holy space. Each one has been created with intention, gently cared for (or not so gently depending on what was required!), laboured in, cried in, laughed in, prayed in. Each space has been one in which we have lived and grown. Each one has seen moments both holy and mundane. We delight in inviting people into our home, we delight in spending time together in our home, we delight in dreaming about what our home might look like in the future. And when others dismiss our home as simply a space that they own, or a space that doesn't matter because it is temporary, I feel saddened. Saddened because what we have worked so hard to create and the treasured life that has been embodied in the space has not been respected, but also saddened because those individuals have missed the gifts that are always available when you enter into a home.
I would love to someday own a house in which I can create a home. I feel this particularly keenly since I grew up on a farm and would love to have land on which to settle and grow things. Since this has not yet been possible, I have needed to learn to embrace the act of homemaking wherever I am. For many people, this is the only way they will ever have a home. It is unfair to equate having a home with owning a house. And if each one of us has to wait until we are fully settled in a house that we own, a house that we will remain in for decades, until we can have a home, then that leaves a whole lot of people "homeless." I could not have lived well over the past number of years if I had not embraced the space in which I found myself and learned to call it home.
I always wish I had something wise or witty to say at the end of these posts. But all I have is a reminder to respect the space in which people find themselves, the physical space, the life space, whatever. Please, especially this Christmas, as you meet up with people who may not fit the mould of married, employed, owner of property, raiser of children, please do not make the mistake of assuming that they are incomplete, that they don't have a meaningful life, that they don't have a home. Value them, hear their stories, receive the gifts that they have to offer. They are many.
I have now lived in 6 (or 8 depending how I count) different rental spaces in the past 18 years of my life. It has often been the case for me, that people ask me when I am going "home." I understand what they mean. They want to know when I will be returning to visit my parent's house. And sometimes I do think of that space as my home as well. Yet it is my home in terms of memory, it is my home in terms of my family of origin, it is not, however, my home in terms of the space in which I have settled, my sanctuary, where my being resides and lives. Renting space does not mean I have no home. Renting space means I don't own a house. There is a massive distinction it seems to me.
The people I have encountered over the years have understood this distinction to various degrees. Good friends who have visited our home (the homes Alicia and I have created) have certainly entered into those spaces with a sense of respect and honouring of the home we have created. Occasionally the owners of those spaces have also shown that respect. However, not all people have done so. To some, our space is just a temporary flop house of sorts. It's where we dump our stuff in between where we are now and the permanent life we might someday have. The space is not ours, it belongs to someone else, and thus it is not our house, and there is no home. It is simply space with stuff in it. This whole idea of not owning a house goes hand in hand with not being an adult. Adults, own houses, adults get married, adults are employed or raise children. Thus, I am not an adult, and I have no home. This is demeaning.
Alicia and I are both adults and we have a home. We have had 4 homes together. Each one has been a holy space. Each one has been created with intention, gently cared for (or not so gently depending on what was required!), laboured in, cried in, laughed in, prayed in. Each space has been one in which we have lived and grown. Each one has seen moments both holy and mundane. We delight in inviting people into our home, we delight in spending time together in our home, we delight in dreaming about what our home might look like in the future. And when others dismiss our home as simply a space that they own, or a space that doesn't matter because it is temporary, I feel saddened. Saddened because what we have worked so hard to create and the treasured life that has been embodied in the space has not been respected, but also saddened because those individuals have missed the gifts that are always available when you enter into a home.
I would love to someday own a house in which I can create a home. I feel this particularly keenly since I grew up on a farm and would love to have land on which to settle and grow things. Since this has not yet been possible, I have needed to learn to embrace the act of homemaking wherever I am. For many people, this is the only way they will ever have a home. It is unfair to equate having a home with owning a house. And if each one of us has to wait until we are fully settled in a house that we own, a house that we will remain in for decades, until we can have a home, then that leaves a whole lot of people "homeless." I could not have lived well over the past number of years if I had not embraced the space in which I found myself and learned to call it home.
I always wish I had something wise or witty to say at the end of these posts. But all I have is a reminder to respect the space in which people find themselves, the physical space, the life space, whatever. Please, especially this Christmas, as you meet up with people who may not fit the mould of married, employed, owner of property, raiser of children, please do not make the mistake of assuming that they are incomplete, that they don't have a meaningful life, that they don't have a home. Value them, hear their stories, receive the gifts that they have to offer. They are many.
Thursday 13 December 2012
Getting to know you (I mean me!): Christmas Version
I saw this quiz on my cousin Pam's blog, so I thought I'd do it too! I don't know why, but I love these things.
1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? Neither, I sew cloth bags that we can reuse over and over again. They are festive, they are environmentally friendly and SO easy to clean up! Friends and family are welcome to keep them, or give them back to me to use over again.
2. Real tree or artificial? Artificial. I loved having a real tree growing up. The smell was awesome.But it was so messy and I always felt sorry that the tree didn't get to grow up. Hacked down in its prime. I also like that I don't get a rash on my arms when putting decorations on the artificial tree. My skin is adverse to pine.
3. When do you put up the tree? This year it was up before the end of November! This is not the norm for me at all. When the tree goes up has really fluctuated a lot over the years based on timing with school. My dream is to put it up on Christmas eve and then celebrate Christmas full out until Epiphany! I imagine things will evolve the more settled we become.
4. When do you take the tree down? Definitely after Epiphany. When I was a child my mom always had to take the tree down when I was at school because I would cry. Thankfully my mom isn't the kind of person to rip it down right away.
5. Do you like eggnog? Nope, never have. I think it's one of those love it or hate it things. Plus almost anyone who knows me is aware that I primarily drink water. 2. Real tree or artificial? Artificial. I loved having a real tree growing up. The smell was awesome.But it was so messy and I always felt sorry that the tree didn't get to grow up. Hacked down in its prime. I also like that I don't get a rash on my arms when putting decorations on the artificial tree. My skin is adverse to pine.
3. When do you put up the tree? This year it was up before the end of November! This is not the norm for me at all. When the tree goes up has really fluctuated a lot over the years based on timing with school. My dream is to put it up on Christmas eve and then celebrate Christmas full out until Epiphany! I imagine things will evolve the more settled we become.
4. When do you take the tree down? Definitely after Epiphany. When I was a child my mom always had to take the tree down when I was at school because I would cry. Thankfully my mom isn't the kind of person to rip it down right away.
6. Favorite gift received as a child? Oh, my. I don't know. Maybe this sounds silly, but it's probably my bright pink skating bag. It had a top and bottom compartment so my skates and clothes could be separate. I desperately wanted a bag like that so I could be like everyone else at the rink. As an adult, my favourite gifts tend to come from my niece Aimee. She is an expert at listening and paying attention to what you enjoy, and then putting a comical twist on it.
7. Do you have a nativity scene? Yes. I have one larger set at my parent's house. I also have one in a snow globe, a tiny Peruvian one, and a wooden one for storytelling. I love the diversity of nativity scenes that they have at Ten Thousand Villages. I love seeing how people from other cultures interpret the birth of Christ.
8. Hardest person to buy for? Hmmm...my brother and sister-in-law
9. Easiest person to buy for? Alicia, hands down. She will always love anything I give her, just because it's from me.
10. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? Oh, this I remember clearly. My parents gave me a diary and I was so mad. It was just not what I wanted and I wrote in it angrily for a couple of weeks and then it went in a drawer. I am not a journaler even now. I blog, but journaling feels different.
11. Mail or email Christmas cards? Mail I guess. I'm just not a card person. I've done letters sometimes and photo cards. But I always find cards that just have the people's signature in them to be a waste of good paper. I am not a person prone to give cards or gifts out of obligation. If you get something form me, it's probably not a card, and I probably love you a lot or felt moved by the Spirit.
9. Easiest person to buy for? Alicia, hands down. She will always love anything I give her, just because it's from me.
10. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? Oh, this I remember clearly. My parents gave me a diary and I was so mad. It was just not what I wanted and I wrote in it angrily for a couple of weeks and then it went in a drawer. I am not a journaler even now. I blog, but journaling feels different.
11. Mail or email Christmas cards? Mail I guess. I'm just not a card person. I've done letters sometimes and photo cards. But I always find cards that just have the people's signature in them to be a waste of good paper. I am not a person prone to give cards or gifts out of obligation. If you get something form me, it's probably not a card, and I probably love you a lot or felt moved by the Spirit.
12. Favorite Christmas Movie? White Christmas. I'm a sucker for musicals and Bing Crosby's voice has always made me feel happy.
13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? I don't really shop much. We draw names at my parent's place and at Alicia's parent's as well. So that's only two gifts. We also give gifts to my two nieces and Alicia's nephew. Most of my gifts are handmade or from Ten Thousand Villages. So I work on them during the fall, and hope people don't change too much before Christmas comes! This year Alicia and I are giving each other something that cannot cost more than $2 and it has to be meaningful this requires searching, but not much shopping in malls.
13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? I don't really shop much. We draw names at my parent's place and at Alicia's parent's as well. So that's only two gifts. We also give gifts to my two nieces and Alicia's nephew. Most of my gifts are handmade or from Ten Thousand Villages. So I work on them during the fall, and hope people don't change too much before Christmas comes! This year Alicia and I are giving each other something that cannot cost more than $2 and it has to be meaningful this requires searching, but not much shopping in malls.
14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? Certainly. Most especially the 30 or so bars of Body Shop soap I got one year from various Sunday school children, skating children and clients at the hair shop where I worked. I can't use scented soap so they had to go somewhere!
15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? Cranberry sauce? It's a bit harder now since I can't eat grains. I'm finding new things that I love, but some of the traditional things aren't options anymore. So this is certainly evolving. Maybe my mom's sticky chicken. We often have a meal of appetizers on Christmas eve and her sticky chicken is fabulous! Or her cranberry pork loin, that's really good too.
16. Clear lights or colored on the tree? I don't care. Just so long as the tree doesn't look like it came out of a catalogue or a show room. It has to have some character, some story.
17. Favorite Christmas song? This changes. I don't have one that's just been THE song for my whole life. Right now I really love stuff from Mary Chapin Carpenter or Kim Thiessen. I find it hard not to critique theology in some of the old favourites.
18. Travel at Christmas or stay home? Both, neither. It's weird. Since I've been a student I've come "home" for Christmas and always stayed for weeks. The expectation always seems to be that single people don't have homes, so they have to go home for holidays. I would love to actually spend some time in my own home at Christmas time. It's never really happened, maybe this year I'll get a day or two. We'll see.
19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeer? Ah, the only one that ever mattered was Rudolph. My dad's name is Rudolf, with an "f" which he is always quick to point out. But singing "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" just to annoy him is kind of a Christmas tradition.
20. Angel on the tree top or a star? Star, it always seems a bit weird to shove part of a tree up the angel's...
21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning? My immediate family has always opened presents on Christmas Eve. Christmas morning was when my mom was busy getting the Turkey etc. ready for dinner at Grandma's (not anymore), so it was far too frantic at our house for things like gifts.
22. Most annoying thing about this time of year? Stress and expectations. Sometimes I have a hard time digging through all the stuff that happens at this time of year to see the joy of salvation and deliverance from oppression that the birth of Christ signifies. There are moments, surely, yet so often it seems that we are never as enslaved as much as we are during the month of December.
23. What I love most about Christmas? Strangely enough, making or preparing gifts. I really enjoy reflecting on the people in my life and what I might be able to give them that would most help them to live fully as themselves or most bring them profound joy, as opposed to temporary happiness. I guess it's the resourcer in me!
Tuesday 11 December 2012
What should be...or what is
Well, it's almost Christmas.
The time is rapidly approaching.
And honestly, every year around this time I find myself in a whirlwind of emotional confusion. My heart, my body, my soul pulled in a million directions, and all because of one little word.
Should
This word is my nemesis at the best of times, but during the month of December I feel caught in the middle of a veritable blizzard of shoulds.
Between my family, my religious tradition, the institutions that trained me for ministry, my city, my broader culture, and my own quirky personality I feel completely overwhelmed by all the expectations of what should be...or should not be.
I should be happy...always
I should play games
I should eat Turkey...even though Turkey makes me gag
I should celebrate on a particular day
I should like everyone and want to spend time with them
I should be suitably reflective, after all, it is Advent, but not too reflective, that's heavy...just enough reflectivity to be thoughtful but not so much as to be overly serious
I should swoon over nativities, but not all of them since some of them insist on portraying Mary as meek and Jesus as Caucasian
I should sing heartily, but not Christmas songs until Christmas Eve, at least while at church, in other places its okay as long as other liturgical sorts are not around
I should buy presents to show my love
I should not buy presents because it's consumerist
I should buy fair trade presents only
I should give living gifts like micro loans and goats
I should give gifts to various people (teachers, pastors, nurses, firefighters, carwash attendants or pretty much anybody because surely they've done something for me once, and I should give them something in return, regardless of how useless it is)
I should be joyous because of the birth of my saviour, or Santa Claus, or pretty lights, or lovely music...
I should be mournful, because Christmas is not happy for everyone, and many of us are sad at Christmas (I feel a sarcastic comment coming here, so I'll move on quickly)
I should embrace the holiday spirit because that's what it's all about
I should not embrace the holiday spirit because it's a ploy to get me to go shopping
I should like shopping
I should be stressed out and busy
I should be serene
I should always have an appropriate response ready if someone asks me if I'm ready for Christmas
I should remember to celebrate all the different ways that the holidays are celebrated around the world and in my community by eating tons of food that I've never had before (and getting indigestion)
I should remember my Russian Mennonite heritage and eat Poppycock and play Crokinole while singing Leise Reselt der Schnee (and getting indigestion)
I'm sure you have your own list of shoulds, but this is just a small segment of mine. And all this is not to say that I don't actually like doing some of these things, or want to do them, or feel that they are important or meaningful. But it's that little word, should that wrecks it all. It layers the season with blankets of high hopes, expectations and even worse, appropriateness. I should do and be all of these things, regardless of how contradictory because it makes me appropriate. If I master all the shoulds then I will meet expectations and fit in. I will be exactly what I should be.
But I am not, and I cannot and I never do.
And recently, as I've been grading papers for an Introductory Bible class I was struck by the fact that Jesus was not, and could not and never did.
When you read 40 of the exact same reading reflections highlighting the main points in the intro to the Bible text book, you will eventually notice that Jesus did not meet expectations. The people of Israel were longing for a Messiah, the perfect Saviour to rescue them from their oppression beneath the thumb of foreign rulers. They wanted a king, a military leader who would come with great power and crush their enemies. And so they had all kinds of expectations about what the messiah should be. They wanted him to be wrapped in a particular shade of royal purple. They wanted him to come with the perfect accessories. They wanted him to affirm their menu and all their traditions.
And he didn't.
But it strikes me that Jesus didn't tell them to scrap it all either. It strikes me that what Jesus did was invite people to pay attention to what was before them and to live and love in the midst of it all. He invited people to take their eyes off of what should be and to look squarely into the eyes of what is. And I could belabour this point and struggle to give a dozen scriptural references (in context of course) to back up this statement, but I won't, because that's what I feel like I should do. And in this moment, what I sense is that I am being invited to sit with what is.
So that's my goal this Christmas. A pretty lofty goal, I admit. But I'm going to give it a whirl anyway. I'm going to try to lay aside the shoulds, and simply try to live in what is, whatever that may be.
The time is rapidly approaching.
And honestly, every year around this time I find myself in a whirlwind of emotional confusion. My heart, my body, my soul pulled in a million directions, and all because of one little word.
Should
This word is my nemesis at the best of times, but during the month of December I feel caught in the middle of a veritable blizzard of shoulds.
Between my family, my religious tradition, the institutions that trained me for ministry, my city, my broader culture, and my own quirky personality I feel completely overwhelmed by all the expectations of what should be...or should not be.
I should be happy...always
I should play games
I should eat Turkey...even though Turkey makes me gag
I should celebrate on a particular day
I should like everyone and want to spend time with them
I should be suitably reflective, after all, it is Advent, but not too reflective, that's heavy...just enough reflectivity to be thoughtful but not so much as to be overly serious
I should swoon over nativities, but not all of them since some of them insist on portraying Mary as meek and Jesus as Caucasian
I should sing heartily, but not Christmas songs until Christmas Eve, at least while at church, in other places its okay as long as other liturgical sorts are not around
I should buy presents to show my love
I should not buy presents because it's consumerist
I should buy fair trade presents only
I should give living gifts like micro loans and goats
I should give gifts to various people (teachers, pastors, nurses, firefighters, carwash attendants or pretty much anybody because surely they've done something for me once, and I should give them something in return, regardless of how useless it is)
I should be joyous because of the birth of my saviour, or Santa Claus, or pretty lights, or lovely music...
I should be mournful, because Christmas is not happy for everyone, and many of us are sad at Christmas (I feel a sarcastic comment coming here, so I'll move on quickly)
I should embrace the holiday spirit because that's what it's all about
I should not embrace the holiday spirit because it's a ploy to get me to go shopping
I should like shopping
I should be stressed out and busy
I should be serene
I should always have an appropriate response ready if someone asks me if I'm ready for Christmas
I should remember to celebrate all the different ways that the holidays are celebrated around the world and in my community by eating tons of food that I've never had before (and getting indigestion)
I should remember my Russian Mennonite heritage and eat Poppycock and play Crokinole while singing Leise Reselt der Schnee (and getting indigestion)
I'm sure you have your own list of shoulds, but this is just a small segment of mine. And all this is not to say that I don't actually like doing some of these things, or want to do them, or feel that they are important or meaningful. But it's that little word, should that wrecks it all. It layers the season with blankets of high hopes, expectations and even worse, appropriateness. I should do and be all of these things, regardless of how contradictory because it makes me appropriate. If I master all the shoulds then I will meet expectations and fit in. I will be exactly what I should be.
But I am not, and I cannot and I never do.
And recently, as I've been grading papers for an Introductory Bible class I was struck by the fact that Jesus was not, and could not and never did.
When you read 40 of the exact same reading reflections highlighting the main points in the intro to the Bible text book, you will eventually notice that Jesus did not meet expectations. The people of Israel were longing for a Messiah, the perfect Saviour to rescue them from their oppression beneath the thumb of foreign rulers. They wanted a king, a military leader who would come with great power and crush their enemies. And so they had all kinds of expectations about what the messiah should be. They wanted him to be wrapped in a particular shade of royal purple. They wanted him to come with the perfect accessories. They wanted him to affirm their menu and all their traditions.
And he didn't.
But it strikes me that Jesus didn't tell them to scrap it all either. It strikes me that what Jesus did was invite people to pay attention to what was before them and to live and love in the midst of it all. He invited people to take their eyes off of what should be and to look squarely into the eyes of what is. And I could belabour this point and struggle to give a dozen scriptural references (in context of course) to back up this statement, but I won't, because that's what I feel like I should do. And in this moment, what I sense is that I am being invited to sit with what is.
So that's my goal this Christmas. A pretty lofty goal, I admit. But I'm going to give it a whirl anyway. I'm going to try to lay aside the shoulds, and simply try to live in what is, whatever that may be.
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