Are you familiar with the saying, "first world problems"? It is one that I have only become familiar with in the last couple of months, and, I must confess, I use it liberally to chide my friends and family about being wrapped up in their own little worlds - which is exactly what the saying is about, referring to the difference between the types of day to day struggles we face in our modern culture compared to those in a developing, third-world country.
For example, my parents are currently on a 5-month long world cruise (tough life, I know!); as they were getting ready to go, my dad realized he was going to miss some event that he really liked because they would be on the boat, and my immediate response was something like, "Oh boo-hoo - its so hard having first world problems!". Now, of course, my dad wasn't seriously upset or even really complaining about missing the event because of the cruise, and, in reality, my parents are some of the most humble people I have ever met. But the point is that we so easily get wrapped up in our own little existence and so rattled by our "first world problems" that we can easily lose focus on the fact that there are bigger issues and bigger problems out there than ours.
I had this exact experience today. Another confession - I am as prone to getting wrapped up in my own stuff and wallowing in my stupid humanness as anyone else. Now, I am fairly certain that is not a shocking revelation to anyone, but its true. And today was one of those days. I was wrapped up in my own, relatively small, problems and concerns, including something as silly as the fact that I did not lose any weight this week on my new wellness plan, when I ran into a friend who I had heard was having some health problems. When I asked her how she was, she calmly told me that she had been diagnosed with cancer earlier this week. Well, that ripped me right out of my own little pity party, that's for sure!
But the really remarkable thing is what happened next - and that is that she went on to tell me the details of the disease, treatment plan, and outcome expectations - all of which sounded like little pieces of hell - peppered with comments on how awesome God is, how she sees His hand in all of this, and how blessed she is.
Wow. Now if that isn't a wake up call, I don't know what is. Here I was, feeling sorry for myself that I hadn't lost a pound this week, while this beautiful young mother is telling me how she likely won't be able to eat because the radiation will cause her throat to swell to the point where she could have trouble getting water down.
Here I was, wrapped up in how I will manage to get everything done that I want to this weekend before the Super Bowl, and here was this amazing example of faith, telling me she was confident that God had her doing exactly what He wanted her to be doing right now.
And here I was, stressed about whether or not I would be able to get my hair cut and colored before a wedding I am going to in a few weeks, and standing before me was a woman who has so much courage that she was calmly telling me her plans to cut her hair short before it falls out from chemotherapy.
Here I was, wrapped up in my first world problems, trying to juggle things by myself that, in the grand scheme of things, don't really matter and here was someone who was handing total control of something that mattered SO MUCH completely over to God with an overwhelming attitude of peace and confidence in His plan.
Talk about gaining a little perspective on things!
God tells us to trust Him over and over again. He tells us to root ourselves in His love - not love of the things of the world. He tells us not to worry - that He has wonderful plans for us and will take care of us always. He tells us that we are His Beloved.
But how well do we really listen most of the time?
I certainly wasn't listening today until I was blessed to encounter someone who was, and my eyes were opened. Because, yes, we all have "first world problems", and that is OK, as long as we keep the right perspective on them.
We need to learn to trust God with ALL our problems, first world and otherwise, because the truth is that you do not develop a faith as deep and strong as the one my friend showed me today if you are holding onto the little stuff. You develop that kind of faith, that intimacy with God, by letting go of everything, including the little stuff, and watching God transform your life through the trust you put in Him and His love.
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Steubenville NW Promo Video!
GET EXCITED!!! Steubenville NW is happening again this year in Spokane, WA and HFK will be there - spray painted t-shirts and all!!!
This year's theme is "CHOSEN" and just today they released a new video all about Steubenville - so if you aren't already excited....check it out and I promise you will be!
Registration packets will be out in the next few weeks - so mark your calendars NOW for July 26-28 for an unforgettable weekend!!!
Check out the video below!
"Chosen" Steubenville 2013
SEE YOU THERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This year's theme is "CHOSEN" and just today they released a new video all about Steubenville - so if you aren't already excited....check it out and I promise you will be!
Registration packets will be out in the next few weeks - so mark your calendars NOW for July 26-28 for an unforgettable weekend!!!
Check out the video below!
"Chosen" Steubenville 2013
Sunday, December 23, 2012
The Inn Crowd
I just got off of an overnight retreat at the church. One other adult and I led a small retreat for 6 teens that lasted just under 24 hours and during that time, we were learning about, praying with and growing in our love and devotion to our Mother Mary.
It was a beautiful time and such an amazing way to end this final week of Advent - watching teenagers, who people far to often write off as self-centered, unfocused, or immature, dive into personal prayer, reflection, journaling, and Adoration - especially when they could chosen to hang out with their friends, go Christmas shopping, or do a million other things that most of their peers would consider WAY cooler than hanging out with Jesus for a day!
The could have followed the example of the "in crowd" and blown off this retreat for other pursuits. But they didn't - they chose a different path. And it was beautiful.
In my own time of prayer during this retreat, I was drawn to reflect on the innkeeper who turned Mary and Joseph away at the door and sent them to the stable. It was a fleeting thought, a brief moment in a long period of silence in the Blessed Sacrament chapel, and to be honest, I had half forgotten about it until I was scrolling through my Facebook page tonight and saw a post that said something like, "Are you part of the inn crowd or one of the stable few?" And it brought that reflection from the chapel back to my mind.
Now, before I go on, I want to make something clear...I am not knocking the innkeeper here. I mean, there was a census called - Bethlehem was a busy place when Mary and Joseph arrived there. And there is only so much room in an inn. And he did offer them the shelter of the stable. I actually don't think he was a bad guy. But he does give us a great image to reflect on.
Because the fact remains - he did not have room for the Holy Family. He turned them away at the door and relegated them to a smelly, dirty stable for shelter, and ultimately, to give birth to their child, who, albeit unbeknown to him, was the Savior of the World.
That is what my mind was led to during that prayer - the simple fact that he did not have room for them. Sure, I can lay out a bunch of really great reasons why he didn't have room, and had no obligation to make room for them - but, still, at the end of the day, he did not have room for them.
How often do we not have room for the Holy Family in our lives? Are we like the innkeeper, who greets them at the door, but sends them away? Or maybe we aren't even opening the door to begin with.
Maybe we filled the "inns" of our hearts and lives with so much other stuff that we don't even hear them knocking anymore. But they are there - and He is with them.
I am really good at rationalizing why I do or don't do things - so good, in fact, that my dad's running joke is that I should have been a lawyer - so it shouldn't come as much of a surprise that I can rationalize the heck out of the ups and downs of my personal prayer life and relationship with Christ. And I think that is what I was doing in the chapel when the innkeeper came into my mind - I was coming up with a great list of why it was ok that my prayer life had been a little lacking lately - that I was doing all these other things that "made up for it"....hmm, this is starting to sound familiar....
I didn't have room for them. Better said - I wasn't making room for them.
Because here is where we differ so strongly, and so importantly, from the innkeeper that night in Bethlehem. He had a fixed amount of space in which he could fit people. Our hearts do not.
We have an infinite capacity to love and to be loved by God. He created us so that no matter what life is throwing at us, no matter what we have filled our lives, our time, and even our hearts with - we always have room for His Family and for Him. If we choose to open the door and invite Him in.
Now, we may be really good at convincing ourselves that this is not true - that we simply cannot fit one more thing in our "busy" lives, even if that one thing is Jesus. But that's all we are doing - convincing ourselves. Because He made us for love, and love is boundless.
So as this Advent season draws to a close and we approach Christmas eve, remembering Mary and Joseph as they entered the city and sought shelter, maybe this is a good time to take an honest look at our own hearts and decide, when they come knocking, and they will, are we going to be part of the "inn crowd" and turn them away, or one of the "stable few" and invite them in?
It was a beautiful time and such an amazing way to end this final week of Advent - watching teenagers, who people far to often write off as self-centered, unfocused, or immature, dive into personal prayer, reflection, journaling, and Adoration - especially when they could chosen to hang out with their friends, go Christmas shopping, or do a million other things that most of their peers would consider WAY cooler than hanging out with Jesus for a day!
The could have followed the example of the "in crowd" and blown off this retreat for other pursuits. But they didn't - they chose a different path. And it was beautiful.
In my own time of prayer during this retreat, I was drawn to reflect on the innkeeper who turned Mary and Joseph away at the door and sent them to the stable. It was a fleeting thought, a brief moment in a long period of silence in the Blessed Sacrament chapel, and to be honest, I had half forgotten about it until I was scrolling through my Facebook page tonight and saw a post that said something like, "Are you part of the inn crowd or one of the stable few?" And it brought that reflection from the chapel back to my mind.
Now, before I go on, I want to make something clear...I am not knocking the innkeeper here. I mean, there was a census called - Bethlehem was a busy place when Mary and Joseph arrived there. And there is only so much room in an inn. And he did offer them the shelter of the stable. I actually don't think he was a bad guy. But he does give us a great image to reflect on.
Because the fact remains - he did not have room for the Holy Family. He turned them away at the door and relegated them to a smelly, dirty stable for shelter, and ultimately, to give birth to their child, who, albeit unbeknown to him, was the Savior of the World.
That is what my mind was led to during that prayer - the simple fact that he did not have room for them. Sure, I can lay out a bunch of really great reasons why he didn't have room, and had no obligation to make room for them - but, still, at the end of the day, he did not have room for them.
How often do we not have room for the Holy Family in our lives? Are we like the innkeeper, who greets them at the door, but sends them away? Or maybe we aren't even opening the door to begin with.
Maybe we filled the "inns" of our hearts and lives with so much other stuff that we don't even hear them knocking anymore. But they are there - and He is with them.
I am really good at rationalizing why I do or don't do things - so good, in fact, that my dad's running joke is that I should have been a lawyer - so it shouldn't come as much of a surprise that I can rationalize the heck out of the ups and downs of my personal prayer life and relationship with Christ. And I think that is what I was doing in the chapel when the innkeeper came into my mind - I was coming up with a great list of why it was ok that my prayer life had been a little lacking lately - that I was doing all these other things that "made up for it"....hmm, this is starting to sound familiar....
I didn't have room for them. Better said - I wasn't making room for them.
Because here is where we differ so strongly, and so importantly, from the innkeeper that night in Bethlehem. He had a fixed amount of space in which he could fit people. Our hearts do not.
We have an infinite capacity to love and to be loved by God. He created us so that no matter what life is throwing at us, no matter what we have filled our lives, our time, and even our hearts with - we always have room for His Family and for Him. If we choose to open the door and invite Him in.
Now, we may be really good at convincing ourselves that this is not true - that we simply cannot fit one more thing in our "busy" lives, even if that one thing is Jesus. But that's all we are doing - convincing ourselves. Because He made us for love, and love is boundless.
So as this Advent season draws to a close and we approach Christmas eve, remembering Mary and Joseph as they entered the city and sought shelter, maybe this is a good time to take an honest look at our own hearts and decide, when they come knocking, and they will, are we going to be part of the "inn crowd" and turn them away, or one of the "stable few" and invite them in?
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Reflecting on Sandy Hook
I wanted to post on Friday - but I honestly didn't have the words.
I wanted to post on Saturday - but my arms and hands were busy holding my precious children as close to me as I could.
Now I feel compelled to say something, while knowing at the same time that no words are adequate to even begin to address, and certainly not to explain, the evil that was committed on the community of Newtown, Connecticut this week.
So where do we go from here? How do we wrap our minds, not to mention our hearts, around this? For me, that answer is through pure faith - faith in a God who loves bigger and deeper and more completely than anything of this world, good or bad.
People have asked, "Where was God when this was happening?" or have said He was "sleeping" when the gunman entered the school that morning. But the eyes of faith tell me something different.
As Mark Hart, also know as the Bible Geek, posted on his Facebook page yesterday, "God was not sleeping during the Newtown tragedy, He was weeping. Free will offers us the chance to love or to hate, to build or to destroy."
That reminder has given me a surprising amount of comfort in the past day. I say it all the time, I talk to teens about it all the time - God does not force Himself on us, but He does desperately love us, and want us to choose Him. In that love, He gave us free will - because a love that is coerced is not love, it is control and He desires relationship with us, not blind obedience.
And that is a beautiful gift of unselfish love.
On Friday, we were all confronted with the downside of His unselfishness, as a young man named Adam Lanza, for whatever reason, chose to do the unspeakable to our most innocent.
But thankfully, our world is filled with people who take another road - who show us what it means to love like God loves us, and on Saturday, we began to learn about those stories in Newtown.
We learned about the teacher who hid her children and told Adam they were in the gym before he shot her. All her children walked out of that building, unharmed.
Or the principal and counselor who cared more about the kids in the building than their own safety and gave their lives trying to wrestle the Lanza to the ground.
And there are many, many more.
These are the stories to cling to in these days - this is where we know, beyond the pain and seemingly senselessness of this tragedy, that God was there. And is there now. Because what He promises is what we is now being revealed - that even out of great sadness can come hope, joy, love, and salvation.
He proved it on the Cross almost 2000 years ago, and He continues to prove it in the everyday little tragedies of our lives as well as in times of great loss like this.
I do not have all the answers, heck, I don't really have any at all. And I don't know why this young man did what he did, or why God chose to call home the souls that He did that day.
But I do know one thing with absolute certainty -
God walked each person out of that building on Friday- either into the arms of their families or into the arms of His angels.
He wasn't sleeping. He was weeping. Right along with all His children, just like always.
I wanted to post on Saturday - but my arms and hands were busy holding my precious children as close to me as I could.
Now I feel compelled to say something, while knowing at the same time that no words are adequate to even begin to address, and certainly not to explain, the evil that was committed on the community of Newtown, Connecticut this week.
So where do we go from here? How do we wrap our minds, not to mention our hearts, around this? For me, that answer is through pure faith - faith in a God who loves bigger and deeper and more completely than anything of this world, good or bad.
People have asked, "Where was God when this was happening?" or have said He was "sleeping" when the gunman entered the school that morning. But the eyes of faith tell me something different.
As Mark Hart, also know as the Bible Geek, posted on his Facebook page yesterday, "God was not sleeping during the Newtown tragedy, He was weeping. Free will offers us the chance to love or to hate, to build or to destroy."
That reminder has given me a surprising amount of comfort in the past day. I say it all the time, I talk to teens about it all the time - God does not force Himself on us, but He does desperately love us, and want us to choose Him. In that love, He gave us free will - because a love that is coerced is not love, it is control and He desires relationship with us, not blind obedience.
And that is a beautiful gift of unselfish love.
On Friday, we were all confronted with the downside of His unselfishness, as a young man named Adam Lanza, for whatever reason, chose to do the unspeakable to our most innocent.
But thankfully, our world is filled with people who take another road - who show us what it means to love like God loves us, and on Saturday, we began to learn about those stories in Newtown.
We learned about the teacher who hid her children and told Adam they were in the gym before he shot her. All her children walked out of that building, unharmed.
Or the principal and counselor who cared more about the kids in the building than their own safety and gave their lives trying to wrestle the Lanza to the ground.
And there are many, many more.
These are the stories to cling to in these days - this is where we know, beyond the pain and seemingly senselessness of this tragedy, that God was there. And is there now. Because what He promises is what we is now being revealed - that even out of great sadness can come hope, joy, love, and salvation.
He proved it on the Cross almost 2000 years ago, and He continues to prove it in the everyday little tragedies of our lives as well as in times of great loss like this.
I do not have all the answers, heck, I don't really have any at all. And I don't know why this young man did what he did, or why God chose to call home the souls that He did that day.
But I do know one thing with absolute certainty -
God walked each person out of that building on Friday- either into the arms of their families or into the arms of His angels.
He wasn't sleeping. He was weeping. Right along with all His children, just like always.
Monday, December 10, 2012
Winter Snow
So clearly I am less than great at keeping up my weekly blog posts - but I promise, I am trying! =) As I did not get one up last Thursday, I decided to go for 2 this week...so here is installment 1!
I love Christmas music - it is one of my favorite things about the holidays! Besides being fun and festive and putting me in the holiday spirit, I think it is wonderful that for one month out of the year, you can walk into pretty much any major retailer and hear songs blaring on the speakers about our Lord and Savior! And nobody is throwing up picket signs or protesting or screaming at management to change the station! Its a beautiful thing, and I suspect that some hearts have been turned to Christ simply through hearing His message in the mall while doing holiday shopping!
In that, I think, we can find a powerful example of the power of Christ - when we let Him in, He changes us, sometimes without us even meaning for it to happen. That is especially true this time of year, as we prepare and anticipate the arrival of the babe in a manger who, when Mary let Him into the world, changed it forever.
I love the simplicity and subtly with which Christ came. Now, having had 2 babies of my own, I am in no way saying that pregnancy and giving birth are simple or subtle - far from it! But here's the thing - by coming as a baby, Jesus kind of "snuck in" without us even realizing it. Think about it - only a few people were in on it from the beginning - Mary, Joseph, likely Elizabeth and Zachariah, eventually the wise men and the shepherds, but outside of that, for all anyone could see, His birth was just that - the birth of a baby boy, by no means an unusual event.
And that is part of the power of how He came - and how He calls us to bring Him to the world today. Christ was revolutionary because of who He was and how He lived - and when you look at it, who He was, as a human, was a simple rabbi who loved unconditionally, reached out to all people, especially the poor and marginalized, spoke the Truth with confidence, and lived what He preached, and gave His entire life to following the Father's call for Him. But he did it through love, compassion, justice, and radical peace. He did not yell, scream, tear down walls, condemn or threaten.
The way He came modeled the way He lived, and the way He gathered people to Himself.
One of my favorite Christmas songs is called "Winter Snow" and is sung by Audrey Assad. I love it because it speaks of exactly this - that Jesus could have come with power, force, terror, and destruction, but He didn't. He came, instead, like a winter snow - quiet, soft and slow.
I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!
I love Christmas music - it is one of my favorite things about the holidays! Besides being fun and festive and putting me in the holiday spirit, I think it is wonderful that for one month out of the year, you can walk into pretty much any major retailer and hear songs blaring on the speakers about our Lord and Savior! And nobody is throwing up picket signs or protesting or screaming at management to change the station! Its a beautiful thing, and I suspect that some hearts have been turned to Christ simply through hearing His message in the mall while doing holiday shopping!
In that, I think, we can find a powerful example of the power of Christ - when we let Him in, He changes us, sometimes without us even meaning for it to happen. That is especially true this time of year, as we prepare and anticipate the arrival of the babe in a manger who, when Mary let Him into the world, changed it forever.
I love the simplicity and subtly with which Christ came. Now, having had 2 babies of my own, I am in no way saying that pregnancy and giving birth are simple or subtle - far from it! But here's the thing - by coming as a baby, Jesus kind of "snuck in" without us even realizing it. Think about it - only a few people were in on it from the beginning - Mary, Joseph, likely Elizabeth and Zachariah, eventually the wise men and the shepherds, but outside of that, for all anyone could see, His birth was just that - the birth of a baby boy, by no means an unusual event.
And that is part of the power of how He came - and how He calls us to bring Him to the world today. Christ was revolutionary because of who He was and how He lived - and when you look at it, who He was, as a human, was a simple rabbi who loved unconditionally, reached out to all people, especially the poor and marginalized, spoke the Truth with confidence, and lived what He preached, and gave His entire life to following the Father's call for Him. But he did it through love, compassion, justice, and radical peace. He did not yell, scream, tear down walls, condemn or threaten.
The way He came modeled the way He lived, and the way He gathered people to Himself.
One of my favorite Christmas songs is called "Winter Snow" and is sung by Audrey Assad. I love it because it speaks of exactly this - that Jesus could have come with power, force, terror, and destruction, but He didn't. He came, instead, like a winter snow - quiet, soft and slow.
I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Thankful for...
As I sit here on my in-law's couch and look at my beautiful children cuddling with each other across from me, I can't help but reflect on the million different ways I am blessed each day, and I guess that is a good place to be on the Sunday night of Thanksgiving weekend!! (And yes, I know I said I would post on Thursdays...but hey, be thankful I got a post up this week at all! =) )
For anyone who reads the parent newsletter that I email out each Tuesday (and if you don't get it and would like to, please email me and I will add you to the distribution list!), you know that this week I talked about thankfulness a lot - from the fact that the word "Eucharist" actually means "thanksgiving" to how I often struggle to maintain a truly thankful posture.
I have been lucky enough to spend the last five days with my husband's parents, 3 of his 4 siblings, and their spouses and children - a total of 9 adults and 5 kids, ranging in age from 1-8 years old. Needless to say, it was not the quietest of vacations! And with all those people, and all those personalities, in one house, at times, we all felt like we needed a little space to ourselves.
But last night I was standing in the dining room looking into the kitchen as my mother-in-law, one of my sisters-in-law, her husband, and one of my brothers-in-law were talking and laughing as they moved around each other during the post-dinner clean up routine. And I couldn't help but smile. Because in that moment I realized something - I am incredibly blessed to have this family. Sure, we may not all get along all of the time and sometimes there is tension or we get on each others nerves, but at the end of the day, we love each other - and that matters way more than any of that other stuff.
That got me to thinking about Jesus and His disciples. I mean, here was a group of 13 men, traveling almost constantly, staying where ever they were welcomed, and no doubt living in tight quarters and basically on top of each other for around 3 years! If my family can't last through a 5 days holiday without some strife, then surely the disciples must have had their fair share of "family drama"! And in fact, we hear about some in Mark 10:37-45.
It is the story of James and John, the sons of Zebedee, who ask Jesus to “Grant that in your glory we may sit one at your right and the other at your left.” (Mark 10:37) Now, this was a pretty bold request, as the chairs to the right and the left of the host were the seats of honor at a banquet table, so basically, James and John were asking for special treatment from Jesus - for Him to make them the highest among the disciples.
What would happen in your family if one of your siblings or other family member asked the head of your family to make them the favorite and give them special treatment? I know what would happen in mine, and it would not be pretty. At the least, there would be a lot of hurt feelings, whispering and talking behind that person's back, and the worst, yelling and tears.
Similarly, when word of what James and John had asked reached the disciples, we hear in Mark 10:41 that "they became indignant at James and John." Another word for indignant is infuriated. Not just upset, or annoyed - but infuriated! Imagine the scene - a group of 13 men, stopped on the road to Jerusalem, with 10 of them yelling and screaming at 2 of them, and one standing to the side.
What would you have done if you were Jesus? What would the head of your family do in this situation? Honestly, if it was most of us, we would probably be yelling at the 10 disciples yelling at James and John, and the whole scene would descend into chaos. But that is not what Jesus did.
When Jesus saw what was happening, instead of just getting mad and yelling, "Jesus summoned them and said to them, 'You know that those who are recognized as rulers over the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones make their authority over them felt. But it shall not be so among you. Rather, whoever wishes to be great among you will be your servant; whoever wishes to be first among you will be the slave of all. For the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.'” (Mark 10:42-45)
Instead of participating in the chaos, Jesus called his followers to something higher. He showed them how they were all acting exactly like the Gentile leaders who persecuted their people and reminded them that they were meant for a higher purpose - not to lead, but to follow; not to be served, but to serve.
It is a reminder that we can all use from time to time - and perhaps especially at the end of a long holiday weekend that we have spent surrounded by family that, while we love them, can occasionally really get on our nerves. Our families are never going to be perfect - because they are all made up of imperfect humans. But as members of those families, we can strive to love perfectly - the way that Jesus loved those 12 men on the road to Jerusalem.
And the reminder that I am called to maintain a servants heart and humble disposition at all times, even, or perhaps especially, with my family, is something that I am thankful for this Thanksgiving weekend, and always.
434445
For anyone who reads the parent newsletter that I email out each Tuesday (and if you don't get it and would like to, please email me and I will add you to the distribution list!), you know that this week I talked about thankfulness a lot - from the fact that the word "Eucharist" actually means "thanksgiving" to how I often struggle to maintain a truly thankful posture.
I have been lucky enough to spend the last five days with my husband's parents, 3 of his 4 siblings, and their spouses and children - a total of 9 adults and 5 kids, ranging in age from 1-8 years old. Needless to say, it was not the quietest of vacations! And with all those people, and all those personalities, in one house, at times, we all felt like we needed a little space to ourselves.
But last night I was standing in the dining room looking into the kitchen as my mother-in-law, one of my sisters-in-law, her husband, and one of my brothers-in-law were talking and laughing as they moved around each other during the post-dinner clean up routine. And I couldn't help but smile. Because in that moment I realized something - I am incredibly blessed to have this family. Sure, we may not all get along all of the time and sometimes there is tension or we get on each others nerves, but at the end of the day, we love each other - and that matters way more than any of that other stuff.
That got me to thinking about Jesus and His disciples. I mean, here was a group of 13 men, traveling almost constantly, staying where ever they were welcomed, and no doubt living in tight quarters and basically on top of each other for around 3 years! If my family can't last through a 5 days holiday without some strife, then surely the disciples must have had their fair share of "family drama"! And in fact, we hear about some in Mark 10:37-45.
It is the story of James and John, the sons of Zebedee, who ask Jesus to “Grant that in your glory we may sit one at your right and the other at your left.” (Mark 10:37) Now, this was a pretty bold request, as the chairs to the right and the left of the host were the seats of honor at a banquet table, so basically, James and John were asking for special treatment from Jesus - for Him to make them the highest among the disciples.
What would happen in your family if one of your siblings or other family member asked the head of your family to make them the favorite and give them special treatment? I know what would happen in mine, and it would not be pretty. At the least, there would be a lot of hurt feelings, whispering and talking behind that person's back, and the worst, yelling and tears.
Similarly, when word of what James and John had asked reached the disciples, we hear in Mark 10:41 that "they became indignant at James and John." Another word for indignant is infuriated. Not just upset, or annoyed - but infuriated! Imagine the scene - a group of 13 men, stopped on the road to Jerusalem, with 10 of them yelling and screaming at 2 of them, and one standing to the side.
What would you have done if you were Jesus? What would the head of your family do in this situation? Honestly, if it was most of us, we would probably be yelling at the 10 disciples yelling at James and John, and the whole scene would descend into chaos. But that is not what Jesus did.
When Jesus saw what was happening, instead of just getting mad and yelling, "Jesus summoned them and said to them, 'You know that those who are recognized as rulers over the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones make their authority over them felt. But it shall not be so among you. Rather, whoever wishes to be great among you will be your servant; whoever wishes to be first among you will be the slave of all. For the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.'” (Mark 10:42-45)
Instead of participating in the chaos, Jesus called his followers to something higher. He showed them how they were all acting exactly like the Gentile leaders who persecuted their people and reminded them that they were meant for a higher purpose - not to lead, but to follow; not to be served, but to serve.
It is a reminder that we can all use from time to time - and perhaps especially at the end of a long holiday weekend that we have spent surrounded by family that, while we love them, can occasionally really get on our nerves. Our families are never going to be perfect - because they are all made up of imperfect humans. But as members of those families, we can strive to love perfectly - the way that Jesus loved those 12 men on the road to Jerusalem.
And the reminder that I am called to maintain a servants heart and humble disposition at all times, even, or perhaps especially, with my family, is something that I am thankful for this Thanksgiving weekend, and always.
434445
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Into the Deep
OK, so I am admittedly a little behind in my posting! With the craziness of getting ready for Fall Retreat last weekend (an AMAZING weekend, by the way! Check out the pics online at www.hfk122ministriesseniorhigh.com) I totally spaced on putting up my usual Thursday posting, and this week, time just got away from me - so I am employing the theory of "better late than never" here!
So anyways!
Every Monday night, I have the unique pleasure of watching an episode of Fr. Robert Baron's great gift to the Catholic church - his series call "Catholicism" (better know as The Catholicism Project), with some of my amazing teens! Every week brings me new and greater appreciation of this faith that I love - and the opportunity to have my mind blown by the insight and depth of these incredible teens!
This past Monday, we watched the episode that discusses the role of Peter and Paul in the early Church, and their enduring legacy today. In it, Fr. Baron talks about the call of Peter, then called Simon, and his brother, Andrew. For those needing a little refresher....
"He said to Simon, 'Put out into deep water and lower your nets for a catch.' Simon said in reply, 'Master, we have worked hard all night and have caught nothing, but at your command I will lower the nets. We they had done this, they caught a great number of fish and their nets were tearing...When Simon Peter saw this, he fell at the knees of Jesus and said, 'Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man'...When they brought their boats to the shore, they left everything and followed him." Luke 5:4-7, 8, 11
I asked the teens what it meant to them to "put out into deep water" with Jesus, as was awed by their responses - ranging from giving Him control, to not knowing what is going to happen, to losing your sense of security and safety, to not being able to turn back.
For me, "putting out into deep water" causes a sense of anxiety in me - even just simply sitting here typing the words! See, I LOVE water and I LOVE to swim, but I also have an extremely overactive imagination - which means that when I think about deep water, I think about sharks, giant sea monsters, eels, man-eating fish, sea serpents... really rational things to be concerned about, right? But I can't help it - that's where my mind goes, so unless I am super focused, whenever I am swimming in a lake or the ocean, I become convinced that some crazed sea creature is going to come up from below and eat me!
So what does this have to do with the spiritual aspect of "putting out into the deep" - well, a lot, I think! See, for me, and a lot of people I think, being in "deep water" means being in some sort of danger. I means that you have gone to a point where you cannot easily or quickly get back to safe ground - you cannot simple put your feet down and stand up to keep your head above water. You have to trust in your boat, or your swimming skills, or your raft - whatever has brought you out there to bring you back to shore. And if something goes wrong, chances are it is going to go REALLY wrong. That's what's at the heart of my irrational fear of deep water - an inherent sense of danger, a lack of security.
And let's face it - when we "put out into the deep" with Jesus, we are undoubtedly getting in over our heads. Giving your life to Jesus is not going to be easy, comfortable, or secure - He is going to rock your boat, toss you out into the water, and force you to learn how to swim. To follow Him means to step away from the safety of the shore, to get comfortable with not knowing what is "swimming around beneath you"or what might be lurking in the depths - and in that to TRUST, fully, that the One who brought you out there will never leave you out there.
But here is what we need to remember...as long as we keep our eyes firmly on Jesus, there is nothing to fear in the deep water. Instead, when seen through His eyes, the water is no longer full of monsters waiting to devour you - instead, you find yourself swimming in an endless pool of love and grace wanting to engulf you.
Peter learned this first hand - it took Jesus literally taking him into the deep water for him to initially trust in this stranger who appeared on the shore - and, some time later, it took Peter keeping His eyes firmly on Christ to keep from sinking into that deep water when he stepped out of the boat.
He will not let us sink if we keep our eyes, our trust, and our heart on Him - so do not be afraid to "put out into the deep water" - dive on in!
So anyways!
Every Monday night, I have the unique pleasure of watching an episode of Fr. Robert Baron's great gift to the Catholic church - his series call "Catholicism" (better know as The Catholicism Project), with some of my amazing teens! Every week brings me new and greater appreciation of this faith that I love - and the opportunity to have my mind blown by the insight and depth of these incredible teens!
This past Monday, we watched the episode that discusses the role of Peter and Paul in the early Church, and their enduring legacy today. In it, Fr. Baron talks about the call of Peter, then called Simon, and his brother, Andrew. For those needing a little refresher....
"He said to Simon, 'Put out into deep water and lower your nets for a catch.' Simon said in reply, 'Master, we have worked hard all night and have caught nothing, but at your command I will lower the nets. We they had done this, they caught a great number of fish and their nets were tearing...When Simon Peter saw this, he fell at the knees of Jesus and said, 'Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man'...When they brought their boats to the shore, they left everything and followed him." Luke 5:4-7, 8, 11
I asked the teens what it meant to them to "put out into deep water" with Jesus, as was awed by their responses - ranging from giving Him control, to not knowing what is going to happen, to losing your sense of security and safety, to not being able to turn back.
For me, "putting out into deep water" causes a sense of anxiety in me - even just simply sitting here typing the words! See, I LOVE water and I LOVE to swim, but I also have an extremely overactive imagination - which means that when I think about deep water, I think about sharks, giant sea monsters, eels, man-eating fish, sea serpents... really rational things to be concerned about, right? But I can't help it - that's where my mind goes, so unless I am super focused, whenever I am swimming in a lake or the ocean, I become convinced that some crazed sea creature is going to come up from below and eat me!
So what does this have to do with the spiritual aspect of "putting out into the deep" - well, a lot, I think! See, for me, and a lot of people I think, being in "deep water" means being in some sort of danger. I means that you have gone to a point where you cannot easily or quickly get back to safe ground - you cannot simple put your feet down and stand up to keep your head above water. You have to trust in your boat, or your swimming skills, or your raft - whatever has brought you out there to bring you back to shore. And if something goes wrong, chances are it is going to go REALLY wrong. That's what's at the heart of my irrational fear of deep water - an inherent sense of danger, a lack of security.
And let's face it - when we "put out into the deep" with Jesus, we are undoubtedly getting in over our heads. Giving your life to Jesus is not going to be easy, comfortable, or secure - He is going to rock your boat, toss you out into the water, and force you to learn how to swim. To follow Him means to step away from the safety of the shore, to get comfortable with not knowing what is "swimming around beneath you"or what might be lurking in the depths - and in that to TRUST, fully, that the One who brought you out there will never leave you out there.
But here is what we need to remember...as long as we keep our eyes firmly on Jesus, there is nothing to fear in the deep water. Instead, when seen through His eyes, the water is no longer full of monsters waiting to devour you - instead, you find yourself swimming in an endless pool of love and grace wanting to engulf you.
Peter learned this first hand - it took Jesus literally taking him into the deep water for him to initially trust in this stranger who appeared on the shore - and, some time later, it took Peter keeping His eyes firmly on Christ to keep from sinking into that deep water when he stepped out of the boat.
He will not let us sink if we keep our eyes, our trust, and our heart on Him - so do not be afraid to "put out into the deep water" - dive on in!
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