loneliness

06
Feb
2023

Not hiding from our own flesh and blood

We share love in a lonely, hurting world

February 5th / Epiphany 5

Readings: Isaiah 58:1-12, 1 Corinthians 2:1-16, Matthew 5:13-20


More than fifteen years ago, The Barna Group conducted a survey of non-Christians aged 16 to 29.  The predominant perception about church people was quite negative. 85 percent of church outsiders said they perceived present-day Christianity as hypocritical and judgmental.  I remember when the book from that study came out, called unChristian: What a New Generation Really Thinks about Christianity…and Why It Matters.  I attended a study group that discussed the book and its implications. The group spent much of its time protesting conclusions the book presented. One participant kept objecting that survey respondents were using an incorrect definition of what “hypocritical” means. I found myself getting frustrated with the discussion. If we sat and debated whether outsiders’ perceptions of the church were unfair, we were failing to acknowledge what we needed to acknowledge. If churches and their members lived up to the calling we have in Christ, would public perception of the church be so low? Jesus said, “Everyone will know that you are my disciples if you have love for one another” (John 13:35). The corollary is also true:  If we are not known for the love we have for others, if we are not seen putting love into action, people will question whether we are indeed Jesus’ disciples.

Barna Group graphic from https://www.barna.com/research/christians-more-like-jesus-or-pharisees/

At the start of the COVID-19 pandemic (in April of 2020), religion writer Jonathan Merritt argued that some of the most visible Christians in America were failing the coronavirus test. “In place of love, they’re offering stark self-righteous judgment,” Merritt observed.  He followed up with David Kinnamon, coauthor of that 2007 book, unChristian. Kinnaman told him the Barna Group continued to monitor attitudes toward Christianity and perceptions hadn’t improved.  There has been a further erosion of connection by young people to churches. Kinnaman reported that “those who walk away from the church are most often struggling with the hypocrisy of other churchgoers” (The Atlantic, April 4, 2020). Many are viewing the church today the way the Pharisees were seen in Jesus’ day—as people who talk amongst themselves about being righteous, but do nothing for people in their communities. We need to exceed the righteousness of the Pharisees (Matthew 5:20). We need a better sort of righteousness, keeping the highest command, to love our neighbors as ourselves (cf. Matthew 22:39, Romans 13:8-10).

The first generations of Christians put love into practice toward their neighbors—and it led people to think differently of Christians. As Christ’s followers let their light shine before others, others saw their good works and gave glory to God (cf. Matthew 5:16).   A writer about the church’s early history has said:  “At no other time in the history of Christianity did love so characterize the entire church as it did in the first three centuries.” As a result, “Christianity spread rapidly throughout the ancient world, even though there were few organized missionary or evangelism programs. The love they practiced drew the attention of the world” (EarlyChurch.com).  

The early Christians had a dramatic impact on their world by serving, in quiet, unassuming ways. They busied themselves with everyday actions of kindness and compassion. Some of the most prominent times when their faith-filled behavior was a blessing to others was when Christians served the sick and the dying during epidemics and pandemics (Barnabas Today, 4/19/2021). COVID-19 is by no means the first pandemic the world has seen, but now in our own lifetimes we have seen what a pandemic can do to society. Imagine the devastation in the ancient world, when there were no vaccines or antiviral drug treatments. For fifteen years, from 165 to 180 AD, the Roman Empire experienced its first pandemic. It was known as the Antonine Plague (named after the imperial dynasty in power during that time). Roman legion troops brought the disease back with them from the eastern frontiers of the empire. People died by the millions. The mortality rate is estimated by scholars to have been 7 to 10 percent of the population of the empire, in some places as high as 15 percent. One chronicler documented a year during the plague when 2000 people a day were dying in the city of Rome. What were Christians doing during those days? Early sources document that Christians did not abandon their neighbors or their communities. Rather, to quote Dionysius of Athens, they were “unsparing in their exceeding love and brotherly kindness. They held fast to each other and visited the sick fearlessly and ministered to them continually, serving them in Christ” (quoted in Barnabas Today). In the process, of course, many Christians lost their own lives to the pandemic. But their actions had impressed the world around them, and interest in their faith grew. 

Epidemics and pandemics continued to occur in the decades that followed that first plague. The conduct of Christians remained resolute in those difficult times, loving their neighbors even to the point of death. Within a couple centuries, even the most powerful opponents of the church had to acknowledge the love Christ’s people showed.  The emperor Julian, an enemy and persecutor of Christianity, wrote a letter in 362 AD to a high priest of the Roman religion. Referring to Christians as “Galileans” (because Jesus was from Galilee), he wrote that Christians were making his priests look bad. He said that while “the poor were neglected and overlooked by the [pagan] priests … the impious Galileans … devoted themselves to philanthropy. … [They] support not only their poor but ours as well, [while] all can see that our people lack aid from us” (Letter to Arsacius, quoted in BibleMesh, 3/20/20).  Julian, by the way, is known as “the last pagan emperor” in the Roman era.  He had tried to restore the old Roman religion to dominance, but by his time, Christianity had taken too deep a hold in too many people’s hearts. 

Photo by Chalmers Butterfield, https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.5>, via Wikimedia Commons

In today’s world (and rightfully so), we look to public health departments and medical facilities to carry the largest share of helping our communities through public health emergencies. That doesn’t mean opportunities are lacking for Christians to help and comfort people in need. There are so many needs of so many kinds across all our communities. There is, in fact, another sort of public health crisis calling out to us now, calling us to reach out to others with compassion and kindness. This health crisis afflicts millions of people. Research has shown it to be as bad for you as smoking 15 cigarettes per day. It’s a condition that creates a 20% overall increase in the chance of experiencing an early death (Michigan State University Extension). What public health crisis is this? Research by Cigna has shown that more than half of U.S. adults (58%) are experiencing loneliness. Researchers at Harvard, Columbia University, and elsewhere are calling it the loneliness epidemic. We are surrounded in our communities by people who are deeply lonely. Maybe we ourselves are affected by the same loneliness and isolation. Can we, as Christians in our communities and as church groups, become Christ to our neighbors who are lonely? The loneliness epidemic is not like smallpox (such as Antonine Plague) or a dangerous coronavirus (such as COVID-19). We won’t be risking our lives by making efforts to engage with persons who need befriending. If anything, our own spirits may also be lifted and encouraged by sharing life and love with others.

Many years ago, I did a year of internship in Houston, training for ministry. I was a northern boy in a big Texas city. The congregation where I served was wonderfully friendly, but I was many miles from home and away from familiar surroundings and classmates I had known. The congregation had set me up in an apartment of my own, and there were nights I would get lonely. First I felt sorry for myself, feeling like I was stranded by myself. Then I decided to make the most of opportunities that were, quite honestly, right in front of me. The church in suburban Houston had a long list of outreach contacts. My internship duties didn’t require me to go out visiting those persons as much as I did. But I learned that the best cure for my own loneliness was to take time to go out and visit with people who’d had some contact with our church. Making efforts to show friendship to other persons in the church’s neighborhoods brought benefits to me as much as to those I visited. We gave encouragement to each other.

My friends, you and I are “the salt of the earth,” as Jesus has told us (Matthew 5:13). We are here to preserve and extend the lives of others, the way that salt was used as a food preservative in Bible times.  We are also here to enhance others’ lives with flavor, making life less bland. As the apostle Paul said, “Conduct yourself with wisdom in your interactions with outsiders; make the most of each opportunity [treating it as something precious]. Let your speech at all times be gracious and pleasant, seasoned with salt” in the way that you relate to others in the community (Colossians 4:5-6, The Amplified Bible).

The prophet Isaiah described the sort of actions we will undertake as God’s people, striving to bring goodness to others in our world.  We will seek to “loose the bonds of injustice … to break every yoke” (Isaiah 58:6) that weighs on the bodies and souls of others.  As Scripture says elsewhere, “ Bear one another’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ (Galatians 6:2).  Isaiah urged us to share our bread with the hungry, bring the homeless poor into our homes, clothe those who are lacking clothing, satisfy the needs of the afflicted (Isaiah 58:7,10). 

Isaiah told us also: “Do not “hide yourself from your own kin” (Isaiah 58:7). “Our own kin” is more than our own immediate family or the relatives at our family reunion. God’s prophet was calling us to think of all our fellow human beings as our own flesh and blood, because, ultimately, “from one blood [God] made the whole world of humanity” (Acts 17:26, The Aramaic Bible in Plain English). So, we can’t hide ourselves away and ignore others’ needs, pretending we can’t see them or what they are suffering. All the people in our neighborhoods and communities are our brothers and sisters, our neighbors and countrymen. We want to see them, pay attention to them, be there for them.

I’m not saying you individually are going to take away the loneliness and needs of everyone around you in your communities. But each of us can do what we can do. We can start small. We can do the little things.  Let me make a proposal to you.  In a short time, we’re coming up on Valentine’s Day.  Valentine’s Day can be a difficult day for persons who don’t have the companionship in their lives that they wish they had, or who are missing family members far away or out of touch. A couple weeks ago, I got an email from Etsy (an online company) acknowledging the difficulty of such holidays for lonely people.  The email said, “We understand this time can be tough. If you would prefer not to receive Valentine’s Day emails from us, you can opt out by clicking below.”  I was reminded of an old Peanuts TV special from years ago, when Charlie Brown went to school hoping to get many Valentine’s cards from his classmates, and got none (Be My Valentine, Charlie Brown, 1975).

So, maybe if you want to reach out to someone this month, someone who may be lonely, someone who may be hurting, or maybe someone you just haven’t connected with for a while, you don’t need to make it about Valentine’s Day. You can reach out just because. You can take time to connect with others in a variety of ways.  You can send a card—a general friendship or encouragement card.  You can write a letter, sharing with someone what you have appreciated about them. You can go knock on someone’s door, say hello. As one Christian writer has said, “Showing love needn’t be that involved: a compassionate phone call made, a greeting card sent, a door held. If you bake, make a batch of cookies or brownies for a friend. Provide an ear and heart to listen. All these gestures communicate love” (Warner Press blog). We can apply to our own witness what the apostle Paul said of his:  Our speech need not be with “persuasive words of human wisdom” (1 Corinthians 2:4, Young’s LIteral Translation).  We need no fancy language or elaborate efforts. Our simple words and acts of kindness will be “a demonstration of the Spirit and of power” (1 Corinthians 2:4). 

If you’d like some resources for ideas about showing kindness or helping the lonely, here are some worthwhile ones: 


Very early in the Bible, we are told, when God created human beings, that it is not good for a person to be alone (Genesis 2:18). “That statement of need actually predates the first sin” (Christians for Social Action). Think about that. Even when the world was perfect, loneliness would have ruined the joy and beauty of the Garden of Eden. How much more difficult loneliness can be in our fallen, fragile, imperfect world! We need each other. The people around us need us.

As Christ’s people, filled with the Spirit of fellowship in our hearts, let’s reach out in fellowship to others. “Whenever we have an opportunity, let us work for the good of all” (Galatians 6:10). “Let mutual love continue” (Hebrews 13:1)—not only within our own family of faith, but also showing hospitality to strangers (Hebrews 13:2). And perhaps let’s focus our efforts by thinking about those who may be lonely, those who may be isolated, those who might be the Charlie Browns of our neighborhoods, not receiving many encouragements or greetings. Let’s pick up a pen and write, pick up the phone and call, step outside of our comfort zone and visit people we may not know very well. May the light that has brightened our lives in Jesus be like a lamp on a lampstand, (Matthew 5:15), bringing light to our neighbors in our communities by each small act of kindness that we can do. 

—

Scripture quotations, except where otherwise indicated, are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Posted by David Sellnow
30
Sep
2021

No place to lay their heads

Grateful for our homes, we will help those who are homeless


If you close your ear to the cry of the poor, you will cry out and not be heard. – Proverbs 21:13


I visited Portland, Oregon in mid-summer. The weather was pleasant while we were there, with daytime highs in the mid-70s, a bit below their normal average for the time of year. Prior to our visit, however, Portland had endured a record-setting heatwave with temperatures as high as 117 degrees, and thermometers climbed back into the 90s and above 100 degrees soon after our trip. During the heat of late June, the Oregon Medical Examiner’s office reported 96 deaths statewide from hyperthermia, 60 of those in Portland. Many of the deaths were older persons living alone with no air conditioning. Additionally, county leaders in the Portland metropolitan area and elsewhere in Oregon confirmed that a significant number of persons who died due to the excessive heat were homeless or inadequately housed.  Portland is one of many American cities with high rates of homelessness.  Globally, the United Nations estimates that “1.6 billion people worldwide live in inadequate housing conditions, with about 15 million forcefully evicted each year.”

I realize how fortunate I am to have a home. I may wish I had more equity in the house that I am slowly purchasing. I wish I could afford improvements and additions to the property which are beyond my means or would press my budget. But those are problems of privilege, not the crisis-level concerns of those at risk of losing their housing.  In the United States today, an estimated 2.6 million tenants are facing eviction if they don’t receive aid. Due to the pandemic, the federal government authorized a $46.5 billion eviction prevention program, but to date (eight months after Congress approved the funds), less than 17% of the rental aid has been distributed. Congress also authorized $10 billion to help the more than 2 million homeowners who have fallen behind on their mortgages, but that program also has been agonizingly slow in responding to the needs that exist. In August, the federal moratorium against evictions was ended by the Supreme Court, which means the risk of more people losing their housing has increased. A state order against evictions ends today in California, which already has more homeless persons than any other state, including nearly half of the nation’s unsheltered homeless (living in tent encampments, in cars, in abandoned buildings, on the sidewalk, etc).

We may contemplate renovating our homes, upgrading to bigger or better homes, purchasing a vacation home in addition to our homestead property. Having a sizeable amount of earthly possessions is not inherently wrong; we remember that God blessed faithful forefathers such as Job and Abraham with great wealth (cf. Job 1:3, Genesis 12:1-2). However, we do well to heed also the prophet Isaiah’s warning to God’s people, that “God expected justice” but instead heard cries of injustice (Isaiah 5:7), admonishing those “who join house to house, who add field to field, until there is room for no one but you” (Isaiah 5:8). We recall also Jesus’ parable of the rich man who planned to build bigger barns to store all his excess goods. God said to him, “You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?” (Luke 12:20). Jesus reminds us, “One’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions” (Luke 12:15). 

Our days on this planet are not permanent. We are called to see ourselves as “strangers and foreigners on the earth” who are “seeking a homeland … a better country, that is, a heavenly one” (Hebrews 11:13-16). We are also called to live in community with one another as we sojourn here. In the eyes of God, an acceptable “fast” (reducing our own consumption) is “to loose the bonds of injustice … to let the oppressed go free … to share your bread with the hungry and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin” (Isaiah 58:6,7).

When Jesus came down and “pitched his tent among us” (John 1:14, literal translation), living our experience on this earth, he said to those who would follow him, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head” (Luke 9:58).  Surely, our Savior has empathy toward those who have no home. Christ seeks to provide us all a home in his heavenly mansions. In the meantime, until we reach that heavenly home, let’s strive to help one another and all of our neighbors have a safe place to be in this world.

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I’ll link here several highly-rated charitable organizations aiming to reduce homelessness. There are many more you likely can find in your own area.

Transition Projects

  • Over 50 years of helping deliver life-saving and life-changing assistance to some of Portland’s most vulnerable residents
  • 100 out of 100 rating on Charity Navigator

Minnesota Assistance Council for Veterans (MACV)

The People Concern

  • Los Angeles area organization seeking to empower homeless persons to be housed, healthy and safe and to become active participants in the community
  • 100 out of 100 rating on Charity Navigator

HomeAid America

New Story

National Alliance to End Homelessness

Religious statement:  “Homelessness: A Renewal of Commitment” (ELCA, 1990)

Scripture quotations, except where indicated otherwise, are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Posted by David Sellnow
11
Jan
2020

Forsaken … but not forsaken

Originally published on The Electric Gospel on April 27, 2018.

Forsaken … but not forsaken

by David Sellnow

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?  Why are you so far from helping me, and from the words of my groaning?” (Psalm 22:1).

David, who became king of Israel, wrote those words at some point in his life.  We don’t know when David wrote Psalm 22, only that he sent it to the chief musician in Israel when he was king.  We also know that there were plenty of times in David’s life when he might have said, “Trouble is near” and “there is no one to help” (Psalm 22:11).

Sometimes David’s troubles were through no fault of his own, such as when King Saul kept pursuing him, trying to kill him.  David had dared to challenge an enemy no one else in Israel would challenge–Goliath of Gath, a gigantic warrior of the Philistines.  Saul grew jealous of David and aimed to eliminate him. At one point, David wound up going into Philistine territory, to Gath itself, to get away from Saul.  While there, the only way David could keep from being imprisoned or killed by the king of Gath was to feign insanity.  David scribbled on the doors of the gate and let saliva drip down his beard.  The king, Achish, said to his servants, “You see the man is insane. Why then have you brought him to me?” (1 Samuel 21:13,14).

Sometimes David’s troubles were the result of his own arrogance and sin, such as when he seduced the wife of one of his military men while that man was away at battle. David then saw to it that the man was killed, so that David could take Bathsheba (the wife) from him and make her his own.  David’s soul was plagued and troubled until God’s prophet compelled him to confess his sin.  (Cf. 2 Samuel 11-12.)

Other times David’s troubles were a combination of his own failures and the sins of others against him.  His son Absalom mounted a conspiracy, trying to throw his father off the throne. David needed to wage a civil war against his own son.  In the end, Absalom ended up dead and David struggled to bear such a tragedy.  (Cf. 2 Samuel 15-19.)

In our lives too, there are times when we feel forsaken by God and alone in our despair and troubles. Sometimes it’s through no fault of our own; it’s just things that happen to us or acts by others done against us. Sometimes our aloneness and pain are caused by our own sins and shame, torturing our minds and hearts.  Other times the anguish we face is a combination of our own failures and things done by others that hurt us further. We wonder where God is in all this. Our souls cry out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?  Why are you so far from helping me, and from the words of my groaning? My God, I cry in the daytime, but you don’t answer” (Psalm 22:1,2).  We keep crying out day and night, but find no rest.

We recognize, though, that the anguished cries of David’s psalm belongs to someone else even more than the thoughts belonged to David or than they belong to us.  “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”  Those words were uttered by Jesus, the Christ, as he hung on the cross.  Jesus took on himself all our sins, all our troubles, all our agony, all our shame, and experienced the abandonment of God his own Father.  He did so to atone for all our woes and guilt and hurt.  Some elements of Psalm 22 point beyond anything David likely experienced, looking prophetically ahead to the sort of death Jesus died when he took our place under all the burdens of sin.  “They have pierced my hands and feet,” the psalmist said (v.16), anticipating the crucifixion that the Messiah would suffer.

No matter what our sufferings in life and no matter why they occur–by our own fault or the fault of other sinners or simply the result of living in a sin-stained world–we can know one thing for sure. Jesus suffered as much and more than anything we are suffering. And Jesus suffered as he did for us, to give us hope in the face of suffering. Our hope, ultimately, is in Jesus, whether or not the circumstances of our daily lives get any easier.  Though the Lord may bring us down “into the dust of death” (Psalm 22:15), he remains always our God from the time of our birth onward.  “All those who go down to the dust shall bow before him” (Psalm 22:29).  We can’t keep our own souls alive, but God will.  And we will continue to serve him and proclaim his righteousness (Psalm 22:29-31).

Posted by David Sellnow
29
Dec
2019

Never Alone

Originally published on The Electric Gospel on March 4, 2016.

Never alone

by Miriam Willitz

“And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”
– Matthew 28:20

Have you ever felt alone? I’m sure we all have at some time in our lives. There are many reasons that we can feel alone. Maybe there has been a time when you were in a fight with a spouse or other family member and you didn’t talk for a while and you felt all alone. When we have to make big decisions that will make a lasting impact on us, we sometimes feel alone. I had a teacher in high school that we all called Dr. Z. He was married to his wife for more than forty years, and she died very suddenly not long ago. We cannot even begin to imagine the kind of loneliness Dr. Z is going through right now without his lifelong companion.

People often feel lonely because they are Christian. They feel as though they are the only Christian in a whole world of unbelievers. That may seem true, even though it’s not.  Jesus is with us always.

When Jesus promised to be with his disciples always, he was about to go up into heaven.  Jesus had been with them for three years, teaching them all that they needed to know. Every day for those years he constantly had been there with them, and now he was going back to where he’d been, and he wouldn’t be physically present with them anymore. Try to imagine how alone they felt without Jesus there with them. They watched him disappear from their sight, but Jesus gave them this great promise: that he would always be there with them, till the very end to time.  And along with that promise, he gave them a mission—to go out and tell the whole earth about how he’d died to take away the sins of all people (cf. Mark 16:15).  And his authority and his Spirit would accompany them in that mission (cf. Matthew 28:18, John 16:7-15).

We, like the disciples, have that same promise and the same mission.  We feel lonely because we are sinful and weak, but our Savior Jesus is perfect and strong and has promised that his presence will always be with us, to the very end of time. This word from our Lord is so comforting because—in all situations where we have to make decisions and choices on our own—we know that Jesus is always there with us, helping us through and guiding us. When a loved one dies, someone who has always been close to us, we can be reassured that Jesus is still here with us to help us, as well as being in heaven to welcome that loved one home to him in faith.  Jesus is the perfect companion, who came to earth to suffer and die in our place, to pay for our wrongs. He rose again, victorious over death and the grave. And now in heaven, he is with us, protecting us. He is giving us the Holy Spirit to be in our hearts always to comfort and encourage us.   And he gives us the privilege of sharing his message with others as our life’s mission.

Praise God!  Jesus is with us!

Prayer:

Dearest Jesus, thank you for all that you have done for us. Thank you for enduring the cruel death on Calvary and for rising from death. Thank you for always being there for us when we feel lonely and even when we don’t.  Strengthen us as we continue as missionaries for your name.  Amen.

Posted by David Sellnow
27
Dec
2019

Journeying toward forgiveness

Originally published on The Electric Gospel on September 20, 2015.  In a summer class, participants were asked to write a doctrinal or personal article, pondering some aspect of our faith in Christ.  Desiree Alge penned a very personal account and has graciously granted permission for me to share her story on The Electric Gospel blog.  I deeply admire Desiree for her openness and willingness to talk about difficulties in life and overcoming them through Christ.

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Forgiveness — My Journey

by Desiree Alge

When children wrong their friends or their family, they are taught to apologize and ask for forgiveness. The trouble we find, though, is that it is simple to say the words, but to actually mean them is a bigger task. Sure, everyone makes mistakes, but coming clean and admitting the wrong you’ve done takes much more courage. And even harder is the challenge of forgiveness.

Sometimes I wonder if my mother was ever taught this fundamental lesson. After a rough childhood, she chose to follow the same path as her parents, with alcohol and drugs consuming her life. This vicious cycle led her to be these same people she hated. She became a wife and a mother at sixteen, divorced at eighteen, and was sent to prison several times in her young life. Because of the custody battles, I was sent back and forth between homes until I was six years old. During those years, I was left alone for days, stranded to take care of my baby brother and sister. I was surrounded by parties with alcohol, drugs, and drunk men. I dreaded the days my grandma dropped me off with my mother, and anxiously awaited her arrival to take me home with her. Even years after, my mom bribed me with gifts, but always failed to show up after I’d be waiting on the porch for hours. I felt let down, alone, and unworthy.

I never realized how hurt I was until I became older. Until recently, I hadn’t spoken or seen my mother in over ten years! Our first conversation left me bitter and angry. It contained no apologies or even a hint of regret. I caught myself thinking, “It’s impossible to forgive someone when they don’t even care!”

As I was contemplating all of the mean names I could call my mother, my mind led me to the cross. If Christ had this same attitude towards me as I did towards my mom, I would be sunk. There have been so many times in my life where I’ve been defiant, knowing right from wrong, yet choosing the wrong path. I’ve also ignored repentance, thinking that, “I’m forgiven anyways, so what’s the big deal?” If God decided to forgive only based on apologies received, I would have a lot of sins still on my slate. If Jesus forgives all of the terrible sins that I’ve committed, then who am I to withhold forgiveness from a fellow sinner in desperate need of God’s love?

I am human. I am sinful. I hold bitterness in my heart. I don’t want to be a prisoner to my mother or to resentment. I don’t want her to have this hold on me. Although I may feel like I’m punishing her by withholding forgiveness, I’m actually only hurting myself. The path to heal bitterness is through forgiveness.

No one deserves for their errors to be wiped clean — neither me nor my mother. We are on the same level of sin, no matter the earthly opinion. Whether I’m disrespectful or a liar, I deserve the same eternal punishment just like someone who neglected and abused her children. The words that stem from “forgive” are mentioned in the Bible 127 times and the concept is written many more! It is obviously a beautiful message that God wanted us to know and to live. Because of God’s forgiveness and grace, we receive eternal life! In Ephesians, it says: “Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you” (Ephesians 4:32). Why wouldn’t we want to share that peace with others?

Posted by kyriesellnow
27
Dec
2019

Do we truly love each other in the church?

Originally published on The Electric Gospel on June 26, 2015.

In a religion course that I taught, I asked participants to say something in a personal way about the church — either in the form of an essay or in poetry or song or by an artistic creation. They had much freedom of what form their words or images would take.  I received many thoughtful and beautiful pieces.  One of the most striking testimonies came from a dear soul who came from the Caribbean island nation of  St. Lucia to study in the United States. She wrote in urgent, stream-of-consciousness fashion.  Evodia evokes our heartfelt response.  She speaks of  struggles within what is supposed to be the loving community of the church.  How often within the body of Christ, the church, do we leave individual members feeling similar aches and distress?  How often do we forget what Christ’s apostle urged of us? 

  • By the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the faith God has distributed to each of you.  For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others. … Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves.  Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality.  Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited.  (Romans 12:3-5, 10-16).

I pray you will appreciate Evodia’s honest expressions of hurt and hope … and that we all find greater hope and love in community with one another.  This is a longer item here on The Electric Gospel blog, but well worth your time.

Running on Empty

by Evodia Cassius

I wish I were able to truly express how I feel. This my sixth attempt to write this essay and the words still do not pour out of me naturally. I am hesitant and unsettled. I guess my title “Running on Empty” is proving itself to be true on many accounts. Apart from the five failed attempts at this paper, I also have two failed poetry attempts and two failed paintings. Honestly the paintings were not failures, they just do not accurately express my story.  Neither did the poetry or the other writing attempts. Hence this blog entry … this series of blog entries. This real-life talking style about my failed successes and empty full life. The irony is painful. As I write, the butterflies in my stomach seem not to enjoy the frenzy in my head because they are trying their best to escape. This is my story, my blog, my irony.

Insanity

Shy? Afraid? Unsure? Quitter, deserter, pitiful coward, downer … these are not me. So why do I feel like it is becoming second nature to be all these things? Why do such attributes seem to be the very essence that makes up this temporary dwelling in which my soul lives? Why has living become so hard? Why do I feel defeated before I even attempt something? And more, why do I keep trying if I know that the outcome will be the same?  I am beginning think that I MISSED SOME IMPORTANT LESSON that God attempted to teach me, so as a result I go through and do the same things over and over again expecting a change. The very definition of insanity.

Broken

Helpless, needy, clingy, desperate, attention-seeking … these are not me. But someone said even though you glue the pieces back together, you can still see the cracks. Someone else said once it is broken—though you may make the unit whole again—the element is now weaker than it originally was. If these theories are true, what can be said for something that is repeatedly broken and smashed? Does it not stand to reason that one day like Humpty Dumpty the pieces will not be able to be put back together again?  I wear a mask. A façade, a camouflage, if you would like to call it that. Something that hides the cracks and the holes where the pieces that once were are now lost.  Yes I admit it, I am broken.  … And just when I think that by some miracle I am healed and whole, something bumps me over again, reminding of how weak my structure is, of how fragile I have grown over the years. Of how unstable I really am.

Empty

Depressed, sad, lonely, losing faith? These are not me.  A priest once told me that questions do not equal lack of faith. I agreed; it was more my curious nature that drove the questions. But when the questions have been answered and yet still they linger or they resurface, a door is opened. A door that allows more things to come in, but not go out. This door brings past hurts and darkness creeping back in. Slowly but surely, the once brightly-painted room is overcome with a darkness, and the fear is that all the light will be gone.

“What brought all this about?” you may ask. God, the devil, myself? That is an excellent question. You see, I had thought not too long ago that life was splendid. Grand with images of butterflies and rainbows behind every corner. Allow me to explain what I believe happened.

Seeing the light

You know that feeling when some startling revelation occurs, when a conspiracy is uncovered, when some big holes are poked into something you thought was all good? That feeling you get of deep despair and confusion and a stomach ache that you cannot explain? That is the feeling that I felt. That is what I experienced. I came to this unknown place with the best of intentions. I was told, “You will be among God-fearing people, people who believe in the same thing you believe. People who love God just as much as you do.”  And that brought me face to face with a painful irony … I love God … but I don’t love you?  The Bible itself asks how can you love someone you cannot see but hate the people you see.  “Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar. For whoever does not love their brother and sister, whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen” (1 John 4:20).

So which love is it? Which love will mine be?  Which love will be in the hearts of those around me?  It’s hard to come to terms with love within the church when the church has lost the love it had at first (Revelation 2:3).  Where is love when your loyalty to God is measured on your attendance statistics at each and every religious service, and not on how you treat and relate to the people in your very presence?  Where is love when you can have a conversation with someone now, and five minutes later not acknowledge their presence? Where is love when you are treated differently because you are different, or just because?  When judgment is cast without knowledge of the person?   It is sad. It is hurtful. It is infuriating.

I asked my mother, “How can they say they love God, my God, and behave the way they do? Is it just me? Am I the wrong one?”  I pray almost constantly, “God, if I am at fault, help me see and help me change.”  But it had gotten increasingly difficult to deal with life within the lukewarmness of my surroundings.  Increasingly difficult to smile, to be, to live.  A minister friend tells me, “You are exactly where God wants you to be.” And I need to believe this because it is the only thing that keeps me going at times. But is it true … or is it a means of pacification so I stop questioning things? I am not saying that I am the only person who struggles, and the Lord knows that my issues may be rather insignificant compared to others. So who am I to complain? But I do feel empty and low. I feel like a failure because I am not happy where I am. God has richly blessed me and all my endeavors; he always has. I cannot say that he has ever left my side. But where I am at the moment feels wrong … in my gut, in my soul. Sometimes if feels like everything around me is rejecting me, telling me constantly, “You do not belong. Something here is different, you are the odd one out, a foreigner that has infiltrated and is not wanted. A cancer. A poison.” I walk into a room and people go quiet. Conversations cease and people walk away. People’s attitudes towards me change overnight. I am not so self-centered to think that I am always the topic of conversation, but I am old enough to know when life is like high school all over again.

Should I stay in my room and brood or cry?  That’s not me.  I feel like I need to stifle myself and change to be accepted as one of the masses. That’s not me. I do not want to fit in, be one with all others, if being one of the masses means that I am no longer an individual but a drone. I want the respect I deserve.  I deserve it not because of the color of my skin or the country of my origin, not because I am better than anyone else. I deserve respect as a child of God – not because I have not done anything to deserve that title.  But the Lord has lavished his love on me and called me his own in Christ (1 John 3:1).  And, I will remember, the Lord has called many others as his children too – people different from me, people not like me.  And we owe each other love and respect as fellow brothers and sisters in Christ.

Prayer

Lord, help what Paul prayed be true for me.  Help what Paul prayed be true for those around me.  Help us, within your body, your church, to be more and more filled with the love of Christ and with love for one another. …

  • I pray that out of his glorious riches, the Father may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being,  so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love,  may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ,  and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God (Ephesians 3:16-19).
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