Easter and Our Unanswered Questions

[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] 


Will I ever get better?

Why did my little sister have to die?

Which college should I choose?

Why do so many other people get to have happy marriages?

When will I finally get a job?

We all come to God with questions. Some of them are big and will seemingly never be answered in this lifetime; some are seemingly smaller, yet frustrating all the same. It’s tempting to approach Easter with its flowers and candy and Easter eggs and simply say, “Jesus rose from the dead! All is well!” And in a cosmic sense, Jesus’ resurrection makes that statement true, but in our day-to-day lives it often doesn’t seem that way. 

Photo Credit: Marko Horvat

Which is why we turn instead to a different resurrection--that of Lazarus. Because to get to a resurrection, first there must be a death. When Lazarus died, his sisters didn’t understand how this had happened. Their friend Jesus was the miracle-working Son of God, yet Lazarus not only fell terribly sick, but died and was buried for four days before Jesus himself finally arrived. It’s not surprising that Martha had a few choice words for Jesus when he arrived, starting out their conversation with, “‘Lord,’ Martha said to Jesus, ‘if you had been here, my brother would not have died.’” 

Martha’s actions here are a good example for us--she didn’t run away from Jesus with her questions, she ran to him with them. She was full of both anger and faith, but both of them were pointed in the right direction--directly toward Jesus. So when Jesus told her her brother would rise again, we can almost hear the resignation in her voice as she responded, “I know he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day.” Jesus didn’t leave it there though. He went on, telling her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?” 

Even in the midst of her grief over the death of her beloved brother and the anger at Jesus over his refusal to step in and do something to stop it, Martha’s response was that yes, she believed Jesus is who he said he is--the Son of God. At this point in the story, Martha didn’t know what the ending would be. But whatever happened, she knew who Jesus was. Even her anger and frustration and confusion didn’t remove the true answer from her lips. 

Jesus’ question to Martha is the same one we have to answer today and each day we wake up to the brokenness, pain, and confusion we may face. “Whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?”

Jesus didn’t immediately tell Martha he was about to raise her brother from the dead. Martha had to live in the space of death and heartache for a little while longer, and perhaps we may have to as well--for another day, another month, or another lifetime. Yet, a few verses later, Jesus himself wept at seeing the tomb where Lazarus’ body was. Far from being a God who sees our pain and responds with a condescending pat on the head and “It’s all going to be okay,” our God is one who not only wipes the tears from our eyes but cries alongside us. Resurrection may not happen exactly when we think it should or how we think it should. It’s not always instantaneous and it’s certainly not always pain free. But the words to Elevation Worship’s song Resurrecting are, even in the midst of great difficulty, true: 

By Your spirit I will rise

From the ashes of defeat

The resurrected king

Is resurrecting me

In Your name I come alive

To declare your victory

The resurrected king

Is resurrecting me

The resurrecting in our own lives may not happen once and then never again, because God never promised life would be easy. Each time we end up in the ashes of defeat, the resurrecting can happen afresh. And each time, God is right there with us. 


[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.]

How to Be a Good Christian

[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] 


I grew up knowing what “good Christians” are supposed to do to grow in their faith. Read the Bible, pray, go to church, volunteer, be generous, etc. There’s even a children’s song that goes, 

Read your Bible pray every dayPray every dayPray every dayRead your Bible, pray every day and you’ll grow, grow, grow 

The next verse is less encouraging.

Neglect your Bible, forget to prayForget to prayForget to prayNeglect your Bible, forget to pray and you’ll shrink, shrink, shrink

Photo Credit: Markus Spiske

As a kid it seemed like such a simple formula. Read my Bible + prayer = growing in God. Not surprisingly, the ease of that message wore off over time. There have been times in my life, some longer and more serious than others, where all the Bible reading and prayer in the world seem to do absolutely nothing in the face of the very real problems I was facing in my everyday life.

The story in Proverbs 24 is the kind I’d like to forget when I’m struggling to keep up my regular rhythm of Bible reading and prayer. It’s not a complicated concept--if a field is left untended or a fence unmended, they will only get worse over time. While I haven’t tended a garden since I was a kid (and was forced to by my parents), last summer the small raised beds on my back patio were perfect evidence of this passage. I had just bought my condo and wasn’t up for undertaking any sort of growing project, so I let them be. Though I didn’t plant anything, weeds crept in completely uninvited and took over all three of the beds. It was much more work to remove them once they had taken over than it would have been if I hadn’t let them get so weed-ridden in the first place.

Most of us probably know the heart of this message without having to think about it too much. Good things take work, and if we don’t put in the work, they fall into apart. But we often don’t want to deal with all the little mundane drudgeries to get us to that outcome. It’s much easier and more pleasant to watch another episode of my TV show than to heave my Bible onto my lap to do some reading and soul-searching. A day or two of skipping prayer doesn’t seem like a big deal. Sleeping in on the odd Sunday won’t hurt. And it’s true, none of these things are intrinsically bad--but we often fail to consider what kind of person these actions, or lack thereof, are slowing forming us into. 

Author (and Calvin College professor) James K.A. Smith has written several books about the ways our habits and culture shape us, often in ways we don’t even recognize. In Desiring the Kingdom he writes, “All habits and practices are ultimately trying to make us into a certain kind of person. So one of the most important questions we need to ask is: Just what kind of person is this habit or practice trying to produce?” (page 83)

At its heart, this passage in Proverbs is asking a similar question--do we believe the rhythms of faith can form us even when we don’t--or perhaps can’t--see the fruit? Reading the Bible and praying every day isn’t as simple of an equation as the children’s song makes it out to be, but over time, it can slowly form us into the kind of people who are committed to these good practices even if we can’t see the tangible results right away. When we're in painful, devastating circumstances and our faith practices aren't any immediate help to soothe our hurt, God's grace sometimes doesn't look much like grace at all. But God’s grace is often a slow one, and when we ask him to meet us in these places, he can and will use them in his time.

What kinds of commitments might God be asking us to make--and follow through on--so that he can make our tomorrows better than our todays? 


[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.]

Giving Your Google Calendar to God

[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] 

Google Calendar is one of my favorite inventions. Anytime I’m at a computer or have my phone with me (so, pretty much always) I can see my schedule for days, weeks, and months ahead and in the past. Thanks my calendar, I can tell you that on December 27, 2014, I saw the movie Into the Woods at 2 p.m., and that I have a gathering with my book club on January 3, 2017. It’s all in my control, and I can plan and schedule my days down to the minute. Yet I have friends who rarely use a formal system of keeping track of what they’re going to do, preferring to remember it in their head or to simply take days as they come, instead of scheduling out trips to the gym like I often do.

Photo Credit: Eric Rothermel

Obviously Google Calendars didn’t exist around the time of Jesus’ birth, yet the characters in the story are excellent examples of people who approached control of their lives in very different ways. In Matthew 2 we read the the story of King Herod, a man who was determined to do anything he had to in order to keep his throne. He controlled his people and his country and wouldn’t let anything change that. So when some wise men came along and started asking about a supposed “king of the Jews,” King Herod did not welcome this news with open arms. Instead, he ordered all baby boys in and near Bethlehem to be murdered, in hopes that this decree would eradicate the new king he had learned of. King Herod lived with a clenched fist, everything held so tightly in his grasp that he was concerned only with his own life and plan and never considered another way.

In contrast, the wise men, who were likely astrologers, were living in a far off land. When they saw the unusual star that eventually led them to Jesus, they set aside their entire lives to listen to the promptings in their hearts telling them to follow the star. They weren’t so set on their plans for the next week or next month that they were unwilling to deviate from their set schedule. Instead, they willingly tossed their plan aside to follow a new one. There was no guarantee of what they’d find on their trek, but they were eager to see if this star they had seen was of the importance they thought it was. Upon finding Jesus, they worshiped him and gladly offered their gifts.

Though we may not like to admit it, it’s easy to become like evil King Herod. I get so caught up in my planning and scheduling that I forget to see where God is breaking into my life and asking me to follow what he has for me instead of what I have for myself. Our culture feeds into this mentality, telling us to be true to ourselves, to do what feels right, and to do whatever it takes to be happy. The call of God is the opposite though. To follow Jesus is to hand over control of our lives because we acknowledge that God’s way is better, even in the times we may not understand his ways.

As we begin a new year, what would it look like to truly give God control of our lives? This idea is often difficult for me, because it sounds good as words we say and even pray, but what it looks like in my actual everyday life can be elusive. Instead of getting caught up in the big picture of what it means to “Give God control of our lives” though, what if we focused on the small, simple acts that make up our lives? How would the way we approach our jobs be different if we sought God’s will for what he wants for us in that place? How would our interactions with our family members, those we see every day and those we see less frequently, change if we committed to seeing them the way God sees them, as people who are deeply loved and valued? How would the way we talk, or the way we schedule our Google Calendar, or the way we shop, be changed if we truly looked for the ways God is present even in those seemingly mundane actions? If we live our lives with hands open to what God has in store, we may be surprised at what we find.


[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.]

It's Not About You

[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]

As we near the holidays, our minds often turn to giving. We have our list of people and ideas of what kinds of gifts to buy for them, and we also likely think about charitable giving as well. Any organization we’ve given to at any point in our lives seems to come out of the woodwork seeking those year-end donations to help them reach their goal. In addition to financial gifts, we may also spend time serving meals or collecting items for people who don’t have the same resources we do. Too often though, this mindset gets siloed into November and December and largely ignored the rest of the year.

Photo Credit: Karl Fredrickson

It’s easy to make excuses about why we don’t serve. One guy who had some pretty great excuses to not serve is David. In the story we read in 1 Samuel 18:1-11, he had already been anointed the next king over Israel and was a praised war hero who had slain the giant Goliath. Now he was just biding his time until King Saul abdicated or passed away and David could assume the throne. But instead of spending all his time on military missions continuing to build his prowess, or boasting to all the people in the town about how great he was, David spent time playing his lyre for King Saul. As thanks, King Saul, overcome by an evil spirit, tried to pin David to the wall with a spear. Instead of leaving immediately though, David continued to play, giving King Saul the chance to try to kill him a second time (and failing again). David knew something very important about service: It wasn’t about him. Already he had seen God prepare him with the skills he needed to defeat Goliath, and David continued to trust and serve God in his role in Saul’s household as a lyre player.

When we’re firmly rooted in God and seeking to love him well in all we do, service should be a natural outflow of that desire. But it gets complicated in the demands and busyness of everyday life. Work, friends, kids, hobbies, spouses, exercise, school, and so many other good, honorable ways to spend our time and energy can easily feel like they’re taking all of our time and energy. Serving can seem like just one more thing to add to the never-ending list of what we should be doing, which can lead to guilt if we’re not doing it.

As we saw in the story of David though, it wasn’t fun or convenient for him to be serving King Saul. The uncomfortable truth is that God isn’t interested in our comfort. He wants our love, devotion, and yes, sacrifice--and sacrifice will sometimes hurt. If we approach serving by always trying to wedge it into our lives in the spare bits of time here and there, maybe we need to ask ourselves if it’s really service at all, or simply something we’re doing to make ourselves feel better. Our acts of service aren’t just for the people we serve (though they may benefit); service is a thank you note to God for what he’s done.

Fortunately, there are many ways we can serve. We can serve by changing how we go through our everyday lives, adjusting our perspective so we see ways to serve not as burdens but as opportunities to put hands and feet on our thankfulness. But serving might also look like adding things to our everyday lives. Opportunities to serve our neighbors and community abound, and many places are in need of dedicated people willing to serve well, whether it’s at a church or another organization. Our motivations might not always start out perfectly pure, but we can trust that God will use what we’re offering and transform us in the process as well. How would our service change if, as we do it, we thought of each action as adding another word to a thank you note to God? Thanks for the skills we can use to serve others, thanks for the financial resources we can give away, thanks for the people we serve and the people we serve with?

[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.]

Why God is Better Than Oprah

[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]

I’ve sometimes wondered what it would be like to win a massive giveaway, like the kind TV shows do. One of the most iconic giveaways is when Oprah Winfrey gave everyone in the audience their own brand new car, shouting “You get a car, you get a car, you get a car, everybody gets a car!” Recently, John Oliver bought and then forgave almost $15 million of medical debt on his show Last Week Tonight, breaking the formerly Oprah-owned record of World’s Largest On-Air Giveaway. While I don’t know the details of how the attendees for Oprah’s show were picked, I’d guess it wasn’t through a carefully vetted process to make sure each person there had a perfect driving record and could be trusted to take excellent care of the car they were given. From what I can tell, John Oliver and his team didn’t know anything about the people whose medical debt they forgave, whether they were kind and trustworthy people who would appreciate the gift. 

Photo Credit: Hans M

When Jesus picked his disciples, his process was rather unorthodox as well. Instead of scholars or students of religion, he picked ordinary people like a tax collector and fishermen like Peter. These disciples followed Jesus for his three years of ministry on earth.  Traveling together that long, it only seems natural that it became more than just students learning from their Lord and teacher, but friends. Peter, one of those ordinary fishermen, was committed to Jesus, dedicated to sticking with him no matter what happened, and Peter told Jesus as much. It can’t have been completely easy being a disciple though. Many people, especially the religious leaders, didn’t like Jesus much. As his arrest, trial, and eventual crucifixion drew nearer, Peter’s dedication was going to be put to the test.

When Jesus was taken away for trial, Peter began separating himself from the crowd by following at a distance. Had something changed so quickly, and Peter now doubted the true identity of this man he had been following for years? Unlikely. But all of a sudden, associating closely with Jesus would come with a higher cost attached to it than anything Peter had experienced before. To know Jesus was to be consorting with a suspected criminal. When the first person recognized Peter, he backed away from Jesus again, closer to the exit for a quick escape. Yet two more people questioned him, and finally, Peter couldn't handle it anymore, swearing adamantly that he did not know Jesus. Almost immediately, he recognized the severity of what he had done. What kind of sinking, gnawing, pain must that have been, to realize he had denounced his Lord and friend? 

Maybe we don't go so far as to completely renounce knowing Jesus, at least through our words, but if we were to examine our thoughts and actions for the past weeks and months, I suspect we'd find times when we might as well have renounced him. Often following Jesus looks like knowing what we’re supposed to do, but consciously choosing to ignore it or actively making another decision when we find ourselves in the heat of the moment. Realization of our wrongness may strike instantly, or may settle in over time as we think more about what we’ve done. As that happens, it can feel like we’ve disqualified ourselves from loving and serving God. Would he even want us after we’ve messed up so badly? 

God doesn’t work like humans do though. When we hurt our human friends, they may not be so quick to forgive us, but Jesus, fully human and fully God, gave Peter a gift greater than any TV show offering could ever be. Earlier on in his ministry, Jesus tells Peter, “And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it” (Matthew 16:18). Even after Peter denied Jesus three times, Jesus knew Peter was so much more than his mistake. God never wants to leave us in our mess, but to redeem it. After the resurrection, Jesus asks Peter three times to feed his sheep, and the rest of Peter’s life became an outworking of that as Peter went on to become one of the most instrumental figures in the early church. It was the grace of a second chance, and it completely changed Peter’s life. 

The gift God has given us is worth more than a brand new car or the forgiveness of all our financial debts. He endlessly says to us, “You get a second chance, you get a second chance, you get a second chance!” His second chances never run out, he never gets tired of us and casts us away from him, he never holds our past against us. God still offers the same kind of second chances to us. We are never “so far gone” that God can’t break in and redeem our choices and our circumstances to turn them into something much more beautiful than we could have imagined. 

[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.]

Your Past is Not Your Future

[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]

There are many reasons we may think we’re unqualified for God to use us. Sometimes it’s a matter of perception, like when I originally went to college with the intention of studying youth ministry, but ended up changing my major partly due to starting to believe the lie that what I had to offer students wasn't good enough. My own life had been so seemingly boring, my path to faith so unfraught with any kind of devastating events, that I felt like I couldn't relate to what the students would be experiencing. Or we might think we’re not educated enough talk about God to other people if we didn’t grow up in church or don’t have a seminary degree. Or we might think we’ve done way too much bad stuff for God to still love us and invite us to be a part of the work he’s doing in the world. 

Photo Credit: Darius Sankowski

In the book of Acts, we see one of the most dramatic conversion stories in the Bible. From the outside, if anyone would have been a candidate for not being good enough to be used by God, it would be Saul. He had literally been in charge of seeking out Christians and killing them because of their faith, and then, on what was supposed to be an ordinary journey to another town so he could kill more Christians, God showed up and showed him the error of his ways. From then on, instead of terrorizing Christians, Saul sought to spread the word about God so that more people would become Christians. 

While his conversion was immediate, it took a while for others to believe it was real and was going to “stick.” Over time though, the existing Christians recognized the work God was doing in Saul’s life and began to work alongside him. Saul never fully forgot about his past, and it’s unlikely that everyone he worked with was able to see beyond it either. In the letters he wrote to churches later in life, he refers to himself as “the worst of sinners.” But even though Saul recognized the importance of owning his sin, he also refused to let his past disqualify him from doing things differently in the future.

Our sins may not be the same as Saul’s. For us, it may be gossiping and judging others, refusing to admit an addiction, cheating on our schoolwork, failing to see the image of God in people who annoy us, ignoring our spouse in favor of someone who seems more interesting, cutting corners at work to make our coworkers look bad and ourselves look better, or any number of other sins that continue to plague us. Whatever they are, whatever “level of wrongness” we may view them as, God is able and willing to forgive them. We don't need to keep looking at our past when God is looking at our future. Despite Saul’s mistakes, he came to understand that who he was wasn’t defined by the man he saw in the mirror, but by the work that Jesus did for him. When we believe this too, our identity suddenly becomes not about what we have or haven’t done, but about who Jesus is and how he transforms us to be more like him.


The other ways we try to disqualify ourselves from God’s service fall flat too. We don’t need special training to tell others about what we’ve seen God do in our own lives, of the experiences of his love and grace and mercy that have transformed the way we work and play and live. Over time I realized that even my story of faith, while very different from someone like Saul’s, had value of its own, and it in no way meant I wouldn’t be able to relate to students or be used by God to speak into their lives. That’s the beauty of the kingdom of God--he can, does, and wants to use all people to accomplish his purpose. He sees the potential in everything, even when we can’t. With God, no sin is too great and no story is too small to be used.

[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.]

The Grace of Closed Doors

[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]

I once applied for a job I just knew was going to be great. It was right around the time I was graduating from college, my experience was in line with what they were looking for, and it was a field I was very much interested in entering. Then, without so much as a phone interview, I was told I was not selected for the position. It was disappointing, confusing, and disheartening. So I carried on and applied for a slew of different jobs, mostly not hearing back at all, or if I did it was only to tell me I was not selected.  No after no kept coming, and I couldn’t understand why.

In Revelation 3 we read the letter to the church of Philadelphia. For these Christians, the “no” was likely accompanied by the physical shutting of a door. Instead of being allowed to continue to worship in the synagogue with the Jews, with the people they had grown up with and loved, their decision to follow Jesus meant the synagogue doors were literally shut for them. The closing of those doors probably had an impact on their family relationships, their social circles, and their very way of everyday life. 

While we may not know what it’s like to be barred from a place of worship that was integral to how we viewed ourselves, we’ve likely all had situations where doors seemed to be shutting in our faces. Whether it’s rejections from job applications, frustrating situations with children that never seem to get better, or relationships that keep ending, they all have their own disappointments that go along with them. Jesus’ words to the church in Philadelphia ring true for us as well. He reminds the people that he sees them. Jesus knows what it’s like to be rejected, and he is with us in our deep pain. As he continues on, he tells them, “I have placed before you an open door that no one can shut.” It’s his way of reminding the people that wherever their story has them right now, it is not done being written yet.

When we hit closed doors, it’s easy to fall into thinking that God is unkind or unloving. After all, if he really cared about us, wouldn’t he be opening the doors that we want him to open? And of course, sometimes he does--we get into the dream school, we meet a wonderful man or woman, we succeed financially--but in those times, we also have to remember that it’s not because of anything particularly awesome we do, it’s because of his grace. At the same time, the closed doors are their own kind of grace, even though it might be a painful one. Closed doors can hurt, but they can allow us to turn and find another way, the way God is opening. 

Months after I applied for the job that seemed so great, I found myself applying for a different job at the same company. While I wasn’t as confident that I was a fit for this new role I was applying for, I sent in my resume anyway--and over a month later, I accepted their offer. After being in my new job for a while, I realized that the original position I had applied for would not have been a good fit for my skills and personality, but my new role was. At the time I couldn’t see why God was letting me be turned down for all those jobs, but now I can truly say I’m grateful for it. Often times we can’t see these truths when we’re stuck in the mess of constant “no” without the glimmer of a “yes” anywhere in sight, which is why it’s so powerful to be able to look back on those times when we finally can see the closed doors for the good that they were. 

As much as this is true in our own individual circumstances, it was true for the church in Philadelphia, and it’s true for Encounter Church in Kentwood, Michigan in the year 2016. From the time that Pastor Dirk and a small team of people originally had a vision for a new church, God has continued to open doors for us in a variety of ways. At the same time, he’s also closed doors for us as a church, not because he’s unkind or unloving, but because he had a different way for us to go. Although the church in Philadelphia was comparatively small and of little influence compared to other cities, God kept it thriving because he had a mission for it fulfill. For those of us who consider Encounter our spiritual home, it is good for us to consider how we can be a part of what God has said “yes” to for our church. He has opened doors for us to serve our community in unique ways, and it’s our privilege and our responsibility to use those opportunities well. As we continue to grow and change, what are other ways we can continue to look for the doors God is opening, or closing, out of his grace? And are we willing to walk through those doors when we see them?


[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.]

Why Easter Matters on Wednesday

[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 Easter rolls around, we break out the spring clothes, hunt some eggs, eat some ham and maybe a chocolate bunny (or two). We celebrate at church with joyful cries of “He is risen!” and hopefully enjoy some time with family or friends. The joyful tone lasts into Monday, or maybe a day or two beyond that, but pretty much by Wednesday it’s back to regular life as we know it. Bills have to be paid, homework has to be done, trash has to be taken out, and all the regular activities of life have to continue. Eventually, we end up carrying on as though Easter never happened, until next January when the stores start getting out the Peeps again.

Photo Credit: Flickr User USACE Europe District, Creative Commons

If we truly believe that Easter changes everything though, Easter should affect every single day of our lives. It should affect how we pay our bills, how we do our homework, how we take out our trash, how we treat our coworkers, how we love our family and friends and strangers we meet on the street. Jesus came to earth, fully human and fully God, and he became the be-all-end-all sacrifice for our sins when he died on the cross. 

And then he came back to life.

He died, but he didn’t stay that way.

In Luke 24, Jesus walked along the road with two of his followers. They were kept from recognizing him as they told Jesus about the recent events surrounding Jesus’ death, but later, as they shared a meal together, their eyes were opened and they realized who Jesus was. The very man they had been walking with was the same guy they thought was dead and stuck in a tomb! Everything they thought they knew about the natural laws of death was overturned, and everything they thought to maybe be true about Jesus’ identity was proven correct. A guy who was dead had come back to life and was confirming for them that he was the Savior of the world. The fulfillment of all the prophecies they had grown up hearing was sitting at the table having dinner with them. There’s no way their lives could have been the same from that day on--Jesus truly changed everything for them. If we let it, Easter can change everything for us, too. 

Jesus became the ultimate victor over all our sin and shame, everything we’ve already done and everything we will do. Because of Jesus and what he accomplished by becoming human and dying for us, we never need to face any part of life alone or without hope. He is ever-present with us, always good, always loving, always working things in ways we may not see or understand. 

Which isn’t to say that “Easter changes everything” means life won’t still be hard. Jesus’ death and resurrection don’t protect us from the trials and tragedies of being human. People still get sick, relationships still get fractured, temptations still bombard us from every side. The power of Easter isn’t a shield to block us from difficulties; the power of Easter is a new perspective on those difficulties. Easter gives us hope that life on this earth is not the end, for us and for everyone who is in Christ. Jesus’ own disciples were living examples of this. As they set out to spread the word of Jesus around the world, they encountered opposition, persecution, and death. Jesus completely changed their lives, but it didn’t mean they became easier. 

The disciples knew what counted though. Instead of striving to get ahead in their jobs, or chasing after relationships, or trying to build a bigger house, they knew it was worth it to follow Jesus, even if it meant they never achieved things they maybe really wanted. Life with Jesus can, and should, look radically different than life without him. As we empty our fridges of Easter ham and the chocolate bunnies begin to go stale, let's not forget the changes that Easter should bring to our Wednesdays, our Thursdays, and every other day.


[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.]

Why Do You Follow Jesus?

[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]


I once overheard two women talking as they browsed in a store. They were looking at a book I couldn’t see, but I heard one say, “I love Jesus, but I hate Christians.” “Yea, they’re terrible,” the other agreed. Had I spoken to them, I couldn’t really have disagreed. A lot of people who call themselves Christians have done and said truly awful things, which can put other Christians in a tough spot. How do we explain murders committed and wars raged supposedly in the name of Christ? What about passages in the Bible where God commands his followers to wipe out entire people groups? Do we have to be able to explain these things to follow Jesus well?

Photo Credit: Flickr User gr33n3gg, Creative Commons

At first glance, 1 Peter 3:13-16 kind of makes it seem like we do. Verse 15 reads, “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have.” This sentence is often used as rationale for making sure we can defend our faith with memorized answers and rationale for difficult questions people ask. Of course it’s good to study the Bible and know why we believe what we believe, but Peter isn’t telling us we have to be able to explain away all the tricky passages in the Bible and perfectly respond to the big questions of life. Instead, we’re invited to give people an answer for the reason we have hope.

Our hope should not be found in perfectly crafted arguments and in winning debates; our hope should be found in God. We have hope because Jesus became a man and came to earth to die for our sins, and because the Holy Spirit dwells within us and guides our steps. We can study all of this in the gift of God’s word as it’s revealed to us in the Bible, but we do so knowing that we won’t understand it all perfectly; and ultimately, we don’t have to.

Christians will do things that seem very un-Christlike, because Christians are just humans trying to follow Jesus, and humans can never be perfect. There will be sections of the Bible we don’t fully understand, questions about why God lets certain things happen, and wondering if it’s worth it when being a Christian means we have to give up what we desire. But Peter doesn’t tell us to convert everyone we meet through our perfect arguments, because that’s not our job. Only God can do the saving.

Instead, we can tell our stories for the hope that we have. We can tell about the grace and redemption we see woven through our lives, the overwhelming love that meets us in the darkest of times. Each of us has a different story about why we follow Jesus, a unique way that God reached into our life and revealed himself for who he is. Some of us may have been following Jesus for years and need to remind ourselves of why we do as much as we need to tell others about it. Some of us may be just getting to know Jesus and are trying to figure out what a life modeled after his really looks like. Some of us may be filled with joy for how God is working in our lives and in the people around us.

Wherever we’re at, it is valuable to be able to articulate why we are Christians. Not only does it remind us of why, it helps us share about his love and goodness with others as well. Had I talked to those women I heard in the store, I would have wanted to hear their stories of why they hate Christians, but also tell them why I call myself one--and how following the Jesus they said they love has given me hope.



*Note: I originally told the story of the women in the store in the post "I Love Jesus, But I Hate You." published on my personal blog.


[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.]

Why Do We Suffer?

[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 hard times come--illness, losing a job, a family member or friend passing away, or any number of difficult, painful experiences--the question of why usually follows close behind. Whether it’s our own difficulty or someone else’s, we want there to be a purpose for it, and we grapple with how to understand why it’s happening. Often, we go for the easiest answer, but the book of Job shows us that the easiest answers aren’t always the truest answers when it comes to suffering.

Photo Credit: Flickr User sszdl, Creative Commons

In the beginning of the book of Job, we learn that Job was “blameless and upright,” and was a wealthy man in his time. Verses 2-3 say:

He had seven sons and three daughters, and he owned seven thousand sheep, three thousand camels, five hundred yoke of oxen and five hundred donkeys, and had a large number of servants. He was the greatest man among all the people of the East.

Very quickly things go downhill for Job. By the end of the first chapter, all of Job’s children and servants had been killed and all his livestock had either been killed or stolen. When Job’s friends show up, they give Job easy answers for why he is suffering--clearly there was sin in his life and God was disciplining him, or perhaps his children had sinned and brought death upon themselves because of it. Job, however, will have none of it. Repeatedly he tells his friends of his innocence and grapples with why God is allowing terrible things to happen to a good person such as himself.

So why did Job suffer then? Why do we suffer?

It would be simpler if God sat down with Job and listed all the reasons Job had suffered and how God was now using that suffering in a bigger way.

God doesn’t do that though.

Instead, he pretty much tells Job, “I’m God.” Job 38:1-2 reads:

Then the Lord spoke to Job out of the storm. He said:   “Who is this that obscures my plans     with words without knowledge?

There are two different ways we can read this and, in turn, respond to suffering. The first is to see God’s reply as callous, and not much of a reply at all. It doesn’t come across as very compassionate or loving, and doesn't seem to acknowledge any of the pain Job has been going through. Does God really not care that Job is hurting? Why is his first reply to point out that Job doesn't know what's really going on, instead of God telling Job about the plan so Job might glean some understanding? This response can lead us to lash out at God in anger, blaming him for our pain, questioning why he isn’t acting the way we expected him to, and ultimately moving away from him. It’s natural to wonder why God, whom we believe to be powerful enough to stop it and good enough to want to stop it, won’t stop it.

The second way to respond is to follow the example of Job. He certainly questioned God and lamented the suffering he was experiencing, but the difference is that it was all directed towards God, not away from him. Job got angry, he questioned God, and he didn’t understand why things were happening, but instead of allowing his questions to move him away from God, he took those questions back to God. When God replied, Job listened. Job's first response, chapter 30 verses 4 and 5, is almost an apology to God:

“I am unworthy—how can I reply to you?
I put my hand over my mouth.
I spoke once, but I have no answer—
twice, but I will say no more.”

As unsatisfying an answer as it may be, Job gets it--God is God, and Job is a man. God is God, and we are humans. Our "whys" may never make sense in this lifetime, which isn't a neat, tidy answer that takes away the pain and heartache of suffering. Ultimately though, God is redeeming the world and all our pain and suffering along with it, even if it doesn't seem that way when we're in the thick of it. If we're willing to lean into God during hard times, we may not find understanding, but we may find more of God. 

[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.]

Quitting The Busy Games

[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]

The Busy Games are popular these days. When I was in college, which is where I first became aware of this phenomenon, they sounded like this: “I’m taking 18 credit, working part time, and volunteering at the soup kitchen,” would be met with “I’m taking 20 credits, working full-time, and volunteering as both the preacher and worship leader every week at my church, and I’m married with 2 kids.” Now that I’m out of college, they sound like: “I work 60 hours a week and walk my 2 kids to and from school every day and am learning Russian in my spare time,” or maybe, “l have 5 kids and they’re each involved in at least 3 extracurricular activities and I run an online business from my living room.” No matter what The Busy Games sound like, the reality is that they never have a winner.

Photo Credit: Flickr User schmollmolch, Creative Commons

Having a full calendar can be a way of making us feel important. We like to show that we’re busy because being busy means we matter to the people and places we devote our time to. If there are lots of demands on our time, then certainly we must have value as a person.  But this busyness can take its toll in unexpected ways, often so slowly we hardly recognize that it’s happening. Not having time to relax and do what we enjoy is one thing, but suffering relationships with God, family, and friends, are less immediate effects that can ultimately be devastating.

In the story of King Ahab, as told in 1 Kings 20 and the surrounding chapters, we see a classic case of divided loyalty. He wanted safety for his kingdom, but to gain it, he went against the express orders that had been given to him by a prophet of God. Ahab took his eyes off God and allowed himself to be distracted by other things. When we look at our own lives, we may find that much of our busyness is chosen busyness. The ways we spend our time are a major indicator of what we truly value. We may say we value our faith and our family, but if we’re not investing in them in tangible ways because we’re too busy with other things, it’s hard to see that our commitment to what we claim to value most is strong. 

Oswald Chambers writes in his book My Utmost for His Highest:

The busyness of things obscures our concentration on God. We must maintain a position of beholding Him, keeping our lives completely spiritual through and through. Let other things come and go as they will; let other people criticize us as they will; but never allow anything to obscure the life that “is hidden with Christ in God” (Colossians 3:3). Never let a hurried lifestyle disturb the relationship of abiding in Him.

It's easy to get caught up in playing The Busy Games, but much of what we brag about isn't worth bragging about at all. What would it look like if our conversations instead revolved around the ways we are working on our relationship with God, sharing with others what we discussed in Bible study, where we've seen God at work, how our Christian community is challenging us to live more fully for him? These all take time as well, but their ultimate payoff stands to be much greater than we may ever fully realize. There are no winners in the The Busy Games, but we can be winners in an eternal sense if we fix our eyes on the God who truly matters. 


[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.]

How to Live Boldly for Christ

[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]

In Christianity, phrases like "Live boldly for Christ" are fairly commonplace. Yet I've never really seen a definition of what "bold" means when it's used that way. Does it mean selling all my stuff so I can give away all my money? Does it mean moving to Kenya to become a full-time missionary? Does it mean going to seminary and becoming a pastor?

If I don't do any of these things, am I a failure at living boldly?

Most of the time, we equate bold with BIG. What counts is the action, the big, dramatic things that make people take note.

Photo Credit: Flickr User Irwin Scott, Creative Commons

In 1 Samuel 13 and 14, we see the contrasting stories of Saul and Jonathan. Both act boldly, but in different ways and with different outcomes.

King Saul’s bold move was to offer a burnt offering. He was getting antsy waiting around for Samuel to show up to offer the burnt offering, so Saul went and did it himself—his rationale being that he wanted to seek the Lord’s favor before battle. Overall, it doesn’t seem like such a big deal, except he had been explicitly told not to. Instead of waiting patiently for Samuel to show up, Saul let his own misgivings drive his behavior. And, when we look closer at Saul’s motivation, we see fear and doubt that God could and would do what he said he would.

Jonathan’s bold move was to seek out what God would do. He took his armor bearer with him and headed to a Philistine outpost known to be dangerous, saying, “Perhaps the Lord will act on our behalf. Nothing can hinder the Lord from saving, whether by many or by few.” (I Samuel 14:8) His goal wasn’t to make himself look good (because only he and his armor bearer even knew he was going), but to see what God would do—because Jonathan trusted that God would.

On the outside, King Saul’s action doesn’t seem so bad, and Jonathan’s seems perhaps a little foolish. King Saul was seeking God’s favor, and Jonathan was putting his life and someone else’s in danger.

Except these were merely outward actions. While Saul’s inside motives were not so great, Jonathan’s were—making his actions the ones that were bold in a good, God-honoring way. There are lots of bold actions that are great things to do, but if we’re doing them with the wrong heart attitude, they’re not good things at all. Being bold for Christ isn't so much about the outside as it is the inside.

For some of us, being bold might mean giving away all our money, moving to another country, or becoming a pastor—but for many of us, being bold won’t look like any of those. And if those actions aren’t accompanied by a trusting heart ready to be used by God, they’re empty, not bold at all. On the other hand, actions we consider commonplace or even “small”—showing up to work diligently, being a good neighbor, serving at the church—can be our way of living boldly.

In the end, it’s our hearts that determine whether we’re acting boldly for ourselves or boldly for Christ.

[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.]