The Big Reveal

In college I had a good friend who was one those super health-nuts. She ran a 5K every morning, did yoga in the afternoon, sometimes ran up and down my entire floor banging on doors to invite us to meet in the hall to do 8 Minute Abs, and she was eating organic food before it was trendy. She introduced me to a lot of natural and homeopathic products and was the poster child for the Pacific Northwest healthy lifestyle. 

And then I saw her car.

We decided to run to Meijer late one night, and, *gasp*, her car was full of Twinkies. Twinkies? I could see Snickers for the "protein" or those Nature Valley Sweet and Salty Nut granola bars because they say "nature" on the box, but the Twinkies: those things really caught me off guard. I mean, according to the internet, Twinkies contain cellulose gum, an ingredient also found in rocket fuel. I didn't care that she was eating junk food. Twinkie on, good people. It just seemed entirely counter to the lifestyle she had built. We both laughed about her backseat Twinkie stash, and she merely remarked that she loved Twinkies but found she didn't eat as many of them when she had to walk to her car to retrieve one or two. Using this logic, I should move my pantry across the street and put my treadmill in front of my TV.

In many instances, the way we look on the outside--our appearance and habits and the things we say-doesn't match the way we look on the inside. Outwardly we may look confident, even hubristic, but on the inside, we're hopelessly insecure. On the outside we may look like the mom who has it all together with the new (to you) minivan and the Britax and the gDiapers and the Kate Spade diaper bag, but inside we're exhausted and empty. We've all had that moment where we feel disjointed, where the outside looks or feels different than the inside and we're not sure what to do about it.

Last Sunday Dirk preached on a story about Jesus eating in Pharisee's home where the meal was meant to test rather than to nourish. The Pharisee was interested to see how Jesus would wash his cup before using it, because there were two camps  of cup washers in Jesus' time, and the Pharisee wanted to know which teaching Jesus would follow. Jesus, of course, followed neither of them, and then he rebuked the Pharisee for his test of piety. Jesus said, "You Pharisees clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside you are full of greed and wickedness" (Luke 11:39). On the outside we look confident, even hubristic, or like we have it all together, but on the inside, we're a mess. 

Our challenge over the past week was to peer into our cups and see what's in there, and then to pour it out at the foot of the cross. This task turned out to be much more challenging than I had expected. In fact, it's the reason why this "Midweek" writing is coming to you on Saturday night. On the surface, my cup was pretty mellow. Just a little negativity and judgement and impatience. But once I started pouring off the surface layers, I found that the middle layers were much thicker and sludgier. They were full of envy and discontent and a little malice, I think. I'm not sure that I've reaching the bottom layers yet. 

This is the last Midweek Encounter for the summer. We're taking a little break for July and August and will be back in the fall. It's kind of a weird place to leave things--peering into a murky cup--but it's a good place, I think. Dirk wraps up the Kosher Jesus series tomorrow by showing us how to live as Christ intended us to live--with chutzpah and passion. I look forward to learning about how we can re-fill our cups with boldness and temerity even as we learn to empty the sludge at the cross.

See you in the fall, 

Kristin

Taking the Time to See

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

Whether it’s lingering memories from being picked last or not at all for kickball in elementary school, or more recent moments of feeling like the odd one out because our house or car isn’t up to the same standard as many people we know, we all know what it’s like to feel left out. The particularities of the situation can take many different shapes, but the root—feeling different, unwanted, outcast—remain the same.

In Luke 8 we read the story of a woman who had been bleeding for twelve years. Not only did she have to deal with the physical aspects of her ailment, but in that time, this ailment that was completely out of her control would have meant she was socially, physically, and religiously isolated from her community. Far from being the last one picked for the kickball game, she wouldn’t have even been welcome to sit in the stands to watch.

So I can only imagine what was going through this woman’s mind when she heard that Jesus was going to be in the area. She had spent all she had on doctors, trying to find someone who could make her well, so maybe she was thinking that Jesus was her last chance. I had always thought of this story only in physical, medical terms—she had been bleeding for twelve years, and suddenly, she no longer was. But when Jesus healed her, he broke down all the barriers for her—the social, physical, and religious ones. Perhaps she had family and friends who hadn’t talked to her or spent time with her in years, and once she was healed they did again, or maybe she started a completely new life, one she had hardly dared dream of all those years she was sick.

Whatever it was, it all began because Jesus was willing to break down barriers. While the healing took place as soon as the woman touched Jesus' cloak, he took the time to stop. He talked to her at a time when it's likely that very few people were doing the same. He saw her.

In our society, we don't often isolate people in as noticeable of ways as what this woman endured. But it still happens. We've all felt it, and likely even inflicted it at times as well. The question is, are we willing to notice? Will we, like Jesus, stop and take the time to talk to the people no one else seems to want to acknowledge? Will we take the time to really see them, to break down a barrier in whatever small way we can?

[Brianna DeWitt attends Encounter Church and lives, works, and writes in Grand Rapids, MI. You can see more of her musings on her personal blog at http://awritespot.wordpress.com and on Twitter at @bwitt722.]

Grace and Truth

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

Christians who represent Christ poorly sure are easy to find, aren't they? I've seen the fruits of their labors all over: in church social circles that are closed off and cliquey, in political Facebook posts, in signs held on street corners. I don't know how you feel when you see these mishandlings of God's reputation, but I often feel embarrassed and hope that no one one associates me personally with such sentiments.

But of course the mishandling of God's reputation happens in my life every day, too. A snide comment about a co-worker makes everyone in the break room uncomfortable. An old college friend sees me snap at my kids and decides not to say a quick “hi” this time. I come in late to church looking frazzled rather than welcoming.

These are times to respond with grace. And truth. And that combination of grace and truth is much more difficult to execute than it might seem.

There was a time back in college my when my social life was, maybe, an 11/10 but my academic life was hovering around, oh, a 2/10. I was enrolled at Calvin College on a Presidential Scholarship, and the scholarship was renewable for four years as long as I maintained a certain GPA. Which, given my social life, obviously did not happen. When my scholarship was revoked after my freshman year, I was called before a committee to explain any extenuating circumstances and to petition for the reinstatement of the award. I told the committee that I had a lovely time participating in dorm activities and that I enjoyed early morning (5:30!) rowing sessions on the Grand River as part of the crew team and that I was in off-season training for lacrosse. I didn't mention that I was also dating a handsome young man who would eventually became my husband, but I did manage to let the committee know that I didn't find all of my courses entirely...useful...or interesting.

The committee had two choices, obviously:

1. Banish me from Calvin forever for being an ignorant, ungrateful, spoiled, entitled youth; or

2. Kindly explain to me what a privilege it was to take philosophy from the Greatest Philosophy Department of the Western Academic World.

Obviously, my scholarship was not reinstated, but I think that's part of the lesson grace and truth. I needed to hear a word about taking my studies seriously, and I definitely needed to be reminded that my tenure at Calvin was made possible through God's grace (and now my four part-time jobs) and that I ought to respond properly with gratitude rather an excuses.

Over the years I have had many opportunities to speak grace and truth into another's life, and sometimes I have done that well, and often I have done that poorly. And when people have offered me a gentle correction, I have sometimes accepted the words well, and often accepted them poorly. But Christ calls us to this, so we must do it. We must offer the truth in grace, and learn to receive it as well. 

[Kristin vanEyk lives and writes in Kentwood, MI where she attends Encounter Church.]

Amelia Bedelia Bible Readers

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

As a kid, I loved the Amelia Bedelia books. For a second grade project, I even decorated a pumpkin to look like her, with the classic yellow flowers bordering her bonnet. 

My dad, however, did not love Amelia Bedelia quite so much. As far as children’s books go, the Amelia Bedelia ones tend towards the longer side, which I think was part of the reason my dad didn’t like them. His problem with the books went beyond length though—it was saying “Amelia Bedelia” out loud over and over and over. After a while, he’d start calling her “Emmy Lou” to avoid the bouncing syllables of “Amelia Bedelia.” Having read the books out loud to my niece, I now understand the temptation to do just that.

It seems to me that we often do a similar thing with the Bible. Even as we read Matthew 6:19-24 on Sunday, it struck me that I’ve rarely heard anything about verses 22 and 23. I’ve heard verses 19-21 used as a nice reminder to not seek after the things of this world, and verse 24 often gets quoted in messages about not loving money. But verses 22 and 23 are a bit confusing. They don’t seem to fit with the theme of the passages around them, about where our ultimate treasures should be found. It’s tempting to gloss over them and just carry on with what we can understand. 

The problem is, when we take this approach to the Bible—of turning “Amelia Bedelia” into “Emmy Lou” for the sake of ease—we miss out on really important things. When we dig into Matthew 6:22-23, as Pastor Dirk did on Sunday, we discover it’s about having an open heart, and ultimately a lifestyle of generosity that reflects God’s generosity towards us. Suddenly, its placement among talk of where we store our treasure makes a lot more sense. If our treasure is truly not in the things of this world, it should cause us no pain to be generous with we have—with our money, our talents, our time, and whatever else God has given us. 

Replacing tricky Bible passages with simplified explanations is tempting, but it’s not the way to learn what God is really teaching us. When we refuse to gloss over the difficult verses and really dig into them, we can find that everything around it begins to make more sense as well. 

[Brianna DeWitt attends Encounter Church and lives, works, and writes in Grand Rapids, MI. You can see more of her musings on her personal blog at http://awritespot.wordpress.com and on Twitter at @bwitt722.]

Shema

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

As a culture, we have a nearly obsessive desire to classify items and to rank them against one another. One Internet phenomenon, Buzzfeed (an organization that I don't particularly endorse), earned its spot as an app on many of our iPhones because of its self-proclaimed “definitive rankings” of anything and everything, from The Definitive Ranking of Ice Cream Truck Treats (fudge pops are towards the bottom while the Choco Taco reigns supreme) to The Definitive Ranking of Oreos (Tripple Double Neopolitan Creme Oreos are bad, apparently, while the Winter Oreos rank near the top). Aren't all Oreos just kind of...blah?

But we participate in this ranking thing almost compulsively, don't we? For example, I haven't ever eaten at a Culver's, but when I tell people that I'm thinking about giving it a try, they all weigh in with their rankings:

“The burgers are better than McDonald's, but the fries aren't as good.”

“The custards is way better than any ice cream you would get at other fast food chains.”

“The prices are a little higher than Wendy's or Arby's.”

We do the same with books in a series, TV show seasons, movie directors, grocery store brands, vehicle makers, and more. So we shouldn't be surprised to learn that people have been doing this for centuries. Mark 12 records the story of one of the teachers of the law asking Jesus to choose the most important command. Here's how Mark records the answer:

“The most important one,” answered Jesus, “is this: Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one” (Mark 12:29) In his response, Jesus quotes one of the most familiar passages from Deuteronomy, one that every one of Jesus' listeners would have memorized. In Jesus' day they sang it in Hebrew, and Jews today still sing the Hebrew words: “Sh'ma Yisrael Adonai Eloheinu Adonai Ehad.” The larger context of Deuteronomy 6 provides important insight: the Lord has just rescued the Israelites from slavery in Egypt, and Deuteronomy 5 and 6 are instructions for how the Lord's people ought to live if they wish to “live and prosper and prolong [their] days in the land” (Deut. 5:33). The beginning of Deuteronomy 5 includes the 10 commandments, and over the course of these two chapters, God makes it abundantly clear that he wants good things for his people if they will only obey his laws. Deuteronomy 5:29 includes this message from God: “Oh, that their hearts would be inclined to fear me and keep all my commands always, so that it might go well with them and their children forever.”

That ancient word Sh'ma (or Shema), has deep implications. It means more than “to hear”; it means to obey the laws of God always, to love God unconditionally, to study his word faithfully, to talk about the work of the Lord continuously, and to tell our sons and daughters about the one true God with every word and action that we use. It's a command to obey, to be faithful in everything. The greatest commandment, according to Jesus, is to live in sacrificial obedience, to live like Christ himself. God makes a promise in Deuteronomy 6, one that I want to claim for myself and my children, and it's one that I would hope that you would claim as well. When Moses returns from speaking with the Lord he issues this promise: “These are the commands, decrees and laws the Lord your God directed me to teach you to observe in the land that you are crossing the Jordan to possess, so that you, your children and their children after them may fear the Lord your God as long as you live by keeping all his decrees and commands that I give you, and so that you may enjoy long life. Hear, Israel, and be careful to obey so that it may go well with you and that you may increase greatly in a land flowing with milk and honey, just as the Lord, the God of your ancestors, promised you.” What a great reminder that God's laws and commandments are to bring us enjoyment rather than confinement.

[Kristin vanEyk attends Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. Find out more about Encounter at http://myencounterchurch.org/]

What It Really Means to Follow Jesus

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

As a kid, I was intrigued when the missionaries my church supported came to visit. Sometimes they’d wear tradition clothing from the area where they worked, and they’d give an update on what they were doing. They’d often show pictures or a video, and especially if there were any children in the family, I’d think how hard it would be to live so far away from everything that they knew—and to not have TV. Certainly these people were better at loving and following Jesus than I could ever be.

Even now, I sometimes think that way. When I hear stories of people selling all their possessions and moving to a far-off country to tell people about Jesus, or quitting their jobs so they can spend all their time to a church or charity, or starting organizations that help feed hungry people, I struggle between thinking “Good for them” and “Well I can’t do that, so I must not be able to do much for Jesus.”

When Jesus called his disciples, which we read about in Matthew 4:18-22, it’s true that he did call them away from what they were doing and to something else. In that day and age, there was much that was unusual about this situation. Jesus picked his followers, when most rabbis were sought out by students who wanted to learn from them. A rabbi’s followers were usually the best and brightest of the crowd, those who had risen to the top in their academic endeavors, and Jesus picked fishermen who had probably failed out of school at some point. The people Jesus picked to be his disciples did not have the usual qualifications, but he chose them anyway. They made a life-altering decision of giving up their daily routine and the way they made a living in order to follow Jesus—they  were willing to use what they had to follow him.

For some of us, that may be what Jesus calls us to do—to leave behind everything we know, to start a new life somewhere and work for him.

But, despite what I sometimes thought as a child, following Jesus does not automatically mean moving to another country, quitting our jobs, or starting charities. It certainly can mean that, but it doesn’t always. The interesting thing about the way Jesus called his disciples to follow him is that he used language they would understand. He was talking to fishermen, so he talked about being fishermen who catch people. Jesus met them where they were at, and he does the same today. We can follow him wherever we are. 

It might volunteering in children’s ministries and committing to show up. It might mean volunteering at the food pantry. It might mean living with half the income we’re used to in order to give the rest to God.  It might mean walking across the break room at work to talk to someone who looks like they’re having a rough day. It might mean moving to Africa to work at an orphanage. 

Following Jesus will look a little bit different for each one of us, and it can be done wherever he’s placed us. 

[Brianna DeWitt attends Encounter Church and lives, works, and writes in Grand Rapids, MI. You can see more of her musings on her personal blog athttp://awritespot.wordpress.com and on Twitter at @bwitt722.]

All In: Everything

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

The current sermon series at Encounter Church is about going “All In: No Reserves, Retreats, or Regrets”. Many of us have “all in” experiences to share—some at Encounter have labored for hundreds of hours as volunteers on church renovation projects—they have tirelessly salted sidewalks, mowed the grass, laid flooring and trim, fixed odds and ends, and done so much more. Other people have performed amazing physical feats, like finishing the Riverbank or a marathon or even an Ironman (yep, you guessed it, I finished an Ironman. NOPE.) I would think that one would have to dig pretty dip to swim 2.4 miles, then bike 112 miles, and finish the day with a 26.2 mile run. But when it comes to going “all in” it’s not just about completing the day’s challenges or spending weeks installing trim, it’s also about the years of training the lead up to these endeavors.

If you know me, you know that I have a tendency to go “half in”. This, as you can imagine, is not nearly as glamorous as going all in. I tend to flit between activities, enthusiastically starting something and then quitting it days (or hours) later.  For example, I was into mountain biking for a couple of years, I played guitar for a year or so, I was vegan for a couple weeks, and I made my own baby food, well, once.  Have you even blanched, pureed, and frozen spinach? Yuck. I’m afraid that I may have passed this trait along to my daughter, because two weeks ago as I carried her off the soccer field in the middle of her second practice ever she wailed, “I don’t like soccer. I want to go back to ballet.” And that was that for soccer.

Many of us approach our spiritual lives in the same ways. We might enthusiastically read our Bibles every day for a week or a month and then taper off. We might commit to prayer or to a Bible study and then find ourselves fledgling after a short time. We know that a healthy spiritual life is important, just as we know that it’s important to eat well and take a walk. But I wonder if sometimes our reticence to go “all in” for God might be a result of something that can be difficult to admit: we don’t actually want to live godly lives. At least, we don’t actually want to do everything that God requires.  

What if God tells me to change my major after I’ve already finished three years of college?

What if God calls me to be single for longer than I’d like?

What if God tells me to change jobs or to take a job in a far away place?

What if God tells me to give away a lot of money?

What if God keeps nudging me to have that difficult conversation I’ve been avoiding?

That’s the problem with going “all in”, and oddly, it’s the solution as well. Because even if we aren’t brave enough to go “all in” today, Jesus already braved God’s demands when he sacrificed his life for ours. In a few days we’ll hear the last installment of the “All In” series. In the meantime, we’ve certainly been challenged to take our spiritual disciplines and God more seriously, even when it feels like it just might require everything.

[Kristin vanEyk attends Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. Find out more about Encounter at http://myencounterchurch.org/]