Tuesday, June 28, 2016

Change of Identity

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]


When I was in middle school, I distinctly remember a time when I couldn't figure out which version of me to be. A friend was going somewhere with my family, and it was creating a collision of "at school" Brianna meeting "at home" Brianna. In hindsight, the two versions of me weren't drastically different, but during a time in my life when I was trying to figure out who I was and what defined me, they felt enough at odds with each other that I wasn't sure how to handle it.
Photo Credit: Timo Vijn


As adults, we probably (or at least hopefully)  don't think of ourselves in terms of different versions of ourselves. But if we were to look closely at our lives, I suspect we'd all find an area or two where who we say we are and want to be doesn't always perfectly align with what we actually do. We may post Bible verses and accounts of being #blessed on Instagram, then turn around and commit the same sin over and over without a hint of remorse. We may dole out parenting advice and present our kids as model children, and then secretly wonder why it feels like we're doing everything wrong. We may act like the most productive and knowledgeable employee at the company when we're in a meeting, then go back to our desk and spend the whole day wasting time.

On the outside, the church in Sardis probably looked pretty good. As the letter in Revelation 3 records, they "have a reputation of being alive." Truthfully though, things were very different, as Rev. 3:1 continues with, "but you are dead." It goes on to give them a stern warning:


Wake up! Strengthen what remains and is about to die, for I have found your deeds unfinished in the sight of my God. Remember, therefore, what you have received and heard; hold it fast, and repent. But if you do not wake up, I will come like a thief, and you will not know at what time I will come to you.
There aren't many details offered here about how the church in Sardis was dead, but given that they had a "reputation of being alive," there must have been something disjointed about the way they presented themselves versus the way they actually were. In our own lives, it's so tempting, even easy to fake parts of our lives. Putting on a good face may get us through for a while, and we may fool the people around us--our fellow churchgoers, our boss, or even our family. Faking it can breed dangerous consequences as it spills over into our spiritual life though, leading us to believe that we're close to God as long as other people look at us and think we're "good." Of course, we can never actually fool God. He always knows who we truly are, more fully than we even know ourselves. 

While the letter to Sardis is rather gloomy, there's also a hint of hope, hope that we can hold onto as well. Jesus instructs the church to remember what they've learned and to hold fast to it, and to repent from the ways they've gone astray. In a word, Jesus is urging them to change. As someone who struggles with change, at first that sounds overwhelming. Jesus sounds pretty urgent, reminding the people that they don't know when he'll come back, so they need to be ready. And while that's certainly true, we do not, on our own, have the ability to instantly stop faking it and become completely new people. Fortunately, we follow a God who is continually at work making all things new. There is urgency, but not urgency to make ourselves instantly better--urgency to turn to the God who works on us to enact the needed change.

Thinking back to younger Brianna, I couldn't tell you exactly when I changed and starting feeling like I could be the same version of me all the time, but I do remember a point in high school where I consciously realized I had reached that milestone. It was a slow melding of the seemingly disparate pieces of myself into the kind of cohesive personality where I could be the same no matter which setting I was in. As with all change though, it's never truly over. We may become more authentic in the way we present ourselves on social media or as parents or as workers, but God always has more he can do to draw us closer to him. The first step is realizing we need him to do it.


[Brianna DeWitt believes in Jesus, surrounding yourself with good people, and that desserts are best when they involve chocolate and peanut butter. She writes about faith, growing up, and whatever else pops into her head on her own blog, and tweets (largely about food) at @bwitt722.]

Thursday, June 23, 2016

Getting Uncomfortable

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

High school probably went one of two ways for you. Perhaps those years were gold-tinged glory days that you smile back on with your friends over coffee, or maybe for you, it was the equivalent of being trapped in a den of wolves for four years. Like so many unfortunate others, the latter experience was mine. As an introverted freshman, I had trouble making friends, preferring to curl up with a book while everyone else did whatever it is “normal” teenagers do on Saturday nights. My sophomore year and onward I was seduced into a dark dance with anorexia, and my senior year contained the emergence of Major Depressive Disorder. By the time I reached college, I would look to the heavens and ask if enough was enough. After all of the suffering I had been through, didn't I deserve a break? Hadn't I earned the comfort of a smooth college career and a tranquil “happily ever after?” 
Photo Credit: F Romero


Everyone yearns for comfort, whether it is of a mental, physical, or materialistic nature; it is an instinctual human reflex to avoid pain and seek pleasure. When we are not challenged, however, we have a way of being lulled into complacency, and become numb to God's urging for us to venture out of our safe havens.

Revelation 3:14-22 is a letter from God to the church of Laodicea, with the apostle John as the middle-man. Historically, Laodicea was one of the most comfortable cities in Asia Minor, known for its financial prosperity, luxurious fashions, and excellent medicine. Ironically enough, the city did not possess the most basic of all human needs: a water source. When we slip into the apathy of worldly comforts, we may have an abundance of food and a secure job and a house in a safe neighborhood, but if we do not seek Christ, the living water and indeed, the most basic and crucial of human needs, what good is our cushy lifestyle?

God tells the church of Laodicea: “So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you from my mouth. You say, 'I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.' But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked.” (Rev. 3:16-17). This might seem harsh at first glance, but our God always speaks in a perfect balance of grace and truth: “For those whom I love, I rebuke and discipline.” (Rev. 3:19). While God certainly hates to see any of us miserable, the Scripture warns us of how physical comfort can breed spiritual stagnation. Perhaps in our own eyes we are prosperous and knowledgeable, but spiritually we are stumbling fools, naked and blind.

If Christ were to walk into our church today, undoubtedly the assessment would be that we are mirroring the mistakes our brothers and sisters in Laodicea made centuries ago. We are far too comfortable: in our material situations, in our interactions with each other, and in our deeply entrenched beliefs. Our financial security hinders us from taking unnecessary risks. In an attempt to keep the peace with others, we sacrifice opportunities to nudge each other toward Christ. When we are put in a position that challenges our beliefs, we shrink from the chance to grow, and we hide in the safety of the status quo.

Personally, the moments that I felt God's presence the strongest were during my most uncomfortable moments. The turbulent years of high school are behind me. Medication, therapy, and support from family and friends has helped me to better control my mental illness. I found my way back to God, was baptized, and go to church nearly every Sunday. My grades are good. I have a promising job. I have made many wonderful friends. I have finally acquired the comfort that I so desperately yearned for years ago. I am grateful, certainly, but I will admit to you that I cling to these comforts too tightly.

It is so easy to kneel in prayer when it is the world that drives you to your knees. We go to God so willingly when we are afraid, when we are weak, when we are depressed, when we are lonely. In our suffering, we are closer to God because we are actively seeking our Heavenly Father out. Why isn't this desire as strong when we are content and life is being kind? I often am guilty of saying something along these lines: “Okay God, thank you so much for getting me here, but I don't really need anything right now. I'm all good. Talk to you later.”

Our thirst is so falsely quenched by earthly comforts that we do not notice our souls are running dry; we need the living water of Christ to be truly nourished. This doesn't mean that we should actively seek discomfort. We don't have to give away all of our material possessions or force ourselves to suffer. Instead, we should remember the desperation for God we felt when we were suffering, and pursue God with equal fervor even when we are not. We should live each day as if we have never tasted the living water before.


[Abby Hocking is a senior at Calvin College, where she studies psychology and writing. She is employed at Pine Rest Christian Mental Services and plans to become a therapist. Abby is a proud literature nerd, running addict, and puppy enthusiast. She thanks God daily for her wonderful family, her loving friends, and for 21 Pilots.]

Thursday, June 16, 2016

Grace and Truth: W.W.J.D.?

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]


Photo Credit: Flickr Creative Commons, user dylanh777
As a 90’s kid, I grew up sporting the very popular W.W.J.D. bracelets throughout my childhood, often wearing mismatching colors at the same time. Because I attended a Christian school during the week and church on Sundays, it really was the “cool” thing to do. However, I don’t think I ever spent much time contemplating what those four letters actually meant: what would Jesus do? When another student was left out at recess, what would Jesus do? When someone else didn’t understand the math lesson and it made perfect sense to me, what would Jesus do?
 
Now as an adult, I reflect on those words and still wonder if I know what they mean in our world today. How do I act like Jesus amidst severe disagreement between political parties? What would Jesus do in the aftermath of the horrible violence in Orlando? How can I reflect Jesus’s love to those living in extreme poverty, experiencing physical or emotional abuse, or suffering from mental illness or addiction?

In response to these questions, we can find comfort, hope, and guidance in the passage we read from Revelation this week. Jesus shares these words with John to give to the church in Ephesus:

I know your deeds, your hard work and your perseverance. I know that you cannot tolerate wicked people, that you have tested those who claim to be apostles but are not, and have found them false. You have persevered and have endured hardships for my name, and have not grown weary. Yet I hold this against you: You have forsaken the love you had at first. Consider how far you have fallen! Repent and do the things you did at first. (Revelation 2:2-5)

Can we imagine that Jesus might share some of the same thoughts with us today—as a global church, as Encounter Church, or as individuals? The Christian church has endured persecution in the past and continues to in the present, even if it manifests itself differently in this age of technology—and we continue to endure by the power of the Holy Spirit. However, as Jesus shared with the church in Ephesus, we often forget about the love that brought us to Christ in the first place.

It’s easy to get caught up in the legality of current hot topics such as immigration, refugees, homosexuality, pornography, wealth distribution… and the list could go on and on. Christ recognizes that there is importance to seek truth in all of these issues, but He also encourages us to live a life of love. It often seems that there is disconnect between these two ideas—Biblical truth and the love of Christ—but as Christians, just like the Ephesians, we should seek to harmonize these two concepts.

I think the best example of Jesus showing 100% truth and 100% love can be found in John 8:3-11 (my shortened version):
 
The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery, and placing her in the midst they said to him, “Teacher, this woman has been caught in the act of adultery. Now in the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. So what do you say?” …And as they continued to ask him, he stood up and said to them, “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.” …Jesus stood up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” She said, “No one, Lord.” And Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you; go, and from now on sin no more.”

The truth was that this woman was an adulteress and deserved to face the consequences of her sin. However, the truth also shows that not one of those accusing her was without sin, and this is where grace and love appear. Jesus shows great love and grace by saving this woman from the consequences of her sin and by inviting her to go and sin no more, to follow Him.

I hope that we can reflect Jesus’s amazing ability to speak 100% truth into the lives of those he met with a heart that is full of 100% love and grace. Now when we think about those four letters, W.W.J.D, it is my prayer that we can rely on the power of the Holy Spirit to guide us in showing Jesus’s grace and truth in all that we say and do.

In closing, I want to share these words from John 1:14, 16-17:

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth… For from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.
 
[Megan Stephenson is a recent graduate of Grand Valley State University and works for a private education group in Grand Rapids as an Assistant Registrar. She loves spending time with her husband, Ben, trying out new breweries, restaurants, and local attractions. She also self-identifies as a crazy cat lady, despite owning no cats of her own, thanks to her loving and allergic husband.]

Wednesday, June 8, 2016

How to Bring Peace to Your City

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

Though I’ve lived in Grand Rapids my whole life, I’m in the process of moving for the fifth time in three years. This time though, it’s different, because I’ve bought a place and plan to live there for the foreseeable future. I’m excited, certainly, but there’s a bit of trepidation--I’ve never lived by myself like this, I don’t know anyone who lives in the neighborhood, and I’m wondering how long, and exactly what it will take, for it to really feel like home. 
Photo Credit: Flickr User justinrazmus, Creative Commons


My current housing transition made me listen to the story of God’s people as found in Jeremiah 29 in a different way. They’re living as exiles in Bablyon, having been ripped away from their home city of Jerusalem. If I were in their situation, I don’t think I would receive God’s words to them in Jeremiah 29:7 with a very positive attitude:

Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper.
Here the people are, living where they absolutely do not want to be, and God tells them to settle in, put down roots, and invest in their community. What? It seems like the type of situation to be simply endured, not one to be embraced. But God tells them to do just that. He allowed them to be taken into exile, and he had work for them to do during that time.

Our situations may not be the same as the exiles living in Babylon, but God’s words to them hold truth for us wherever we are and whatever our circumstances are. There’s a line in the Mumford and Sons song “Hopeless Wanderer” that seems so fitting--“I will learn to love the skies I’m under.” God has us where we are for a reason, and whether we like that place or not, we have a mission: To love where we are and to seek its good.

Seeking peace and prosperity for an entire city is, perhaps, a daunting task. So I love that God’s tasks for the people, as outlined in Jeremiah 29:5-6, don’t necessarily call for crazy, outlandish things. 

Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Marry and have sons and daughters; find wives for your sons and give your daughters in marriage, so that they too may have sons and daughters. Increase in number there; do not decrease.

God doesn’t tell them to immediately start out and take the city by storm with all their good deeds. First, he gives them specific examples of actions they can take to seek the peace and prosperity of the city. Some of us may be called to start seeking peace for our city in big, bold ways--by partnering with or starting a food pantry or ministry for homeless people, or running for city council--and others may be called to start in smaller ways. We can start where we are, by looking for the needs of others that we come across every day. 

Cities do need big movements, too. We need people who will stand up for injustice in bold ways. We need people who volunteer their time and give prayer and financial support to organizations who are helping to bring about good in our community. We need people who invest in the lives of the people around them and work as God’s ambassadors to bring healing, whether it’s physical, emotional, or spiritual. 

For me, I’m hoping to start by meeting my next door neighbors, and then others from there. While I consider myself a friendly and outgoing person, walking up to strangers and saying hello isn’t something I’m totally comfortable with, but I’m going to try. Will learning my neighbor’s name change the city of Grand Rapids? Of course not, not on its own. But big changes find their starting place in the little things. One person meeting their neighbor might not change a city, but what about a hundred people meeting their neighbors? And then taking the next step of really getting to know their neighbors? And then brainstorming, with their neighbors, of the ways they can create positive change on their street, or the next street over? What effect might that have on the city of Grand Rapids?

How can you start this week?

[Brianna DeWitt believes in Jesus, surrounding yourself with good people, and that desserts are best when they involve chocolate and peanut butter. She writes about faith, growing up, and whatever else pops into her head on her own blog, and tweets (largely about food) at @bwitt722.]