Q: What's a Good Strategy for Finding Answers to the Most Important Questions?

Each week, the Q small group meets to explore an important question about faith together through discussion.  In this blog post series, Pastor Ken will sum up his views on a question that was previously discussed at Q.  Feel free to respond in the comments section below!

Does God exist?  

Is there an afterlife?  

How can we tell good from evil?

What does it mean to be human?

All these are fantastic questions, but too often we jump right to answering them without asking the question we asked at Q the first week: "What's a good strategy for finding answers?"  Logically, this is the first question we should ask, because it's foundational to everything else.  So often, disagreements arise on ultimate issues because we're reasoning based on different foundations.  We have to "lean" on something - put our "trust" or "faith" in something - in order to find out answers about anything.  If we lose all trust, we turn into radical skeptics: and that's not a recipe for a very fulfilling life.  But how do we know what to trust?

Paths to Knowledge

Philosophers and theologians over the centuries have spent a lot of time thinking about "epistemology:" how we know what we know, and whether we can trust anything or anyone to lead us to truth.  There have been 4 major "paths to knowledge" that have been batted around through the centuries: some more popular in some eras than others.  The 4 are listed below, with some summary thoughts on each.

1.  What God says - Divine Revelation.  In this category, the Divine tells us things about reality that we couldn't know ourselves: He "reveals" things that would otherwise lay hidden.  For Christians, this category includes the Holy Scriptures - God's Word written - and ultimately Jesus Christ, the incarnation of the Son of God in human flesh.  Interestingly, divine revelation cannot stand completely on its own: it needs to be interpreted using the other categories of tradition, reason, and experience.  However, the primary question for answering any ultimate question is whether divine revelation plays a primary role, a secondary role, or doesn't even merit discussion because it's divine source is rejected. Where you stand on this issue sets you on a trajectory that strongly influences where you will arrive. For Christians, divine revelation is the primary source of our knowledge about God: not as a blind leap of faith, but as a revelation from God that is consistent with the other sources of knowledge.  Scripture is therefore primary in discussions about ultimate things from a Christian perspective.

2. What Others Say - Culture & Tradition.  If something is true for everyone at every time in every place, you probably won't be the first one to discover it.  That's where the voice of the community (through culture & tradition) plays an important role: it protects us from overly privatized opinions. For many, though, the problem is the opposite: their beliefs simply slide uncritically into the view of the dominant culture (or their chosen sub-culture). How many conversations about morality or God's existence could, in our day, be honestly summed up as, "Well, no one I know and respect believes _____, so I don't either"?  Peer pressure didn't die out in middle school.  For Christians, the traditions of the church - formed over thousands of years - can either be a stabilizing root system in the high winds of an anti-Christian culture (a good use of tradition), or an excuse not to think critically about beliefs and simply accept them at face value (a bad use of tradition). Both uses exist in every branch of the church today.

3. What Logic & Science Say - Reason.  Most of us put a lot of trust in the discoveries of reason: you won't find many flat-earthers around!  Our minds are powerful instruments that seem to correspond well to reality and can uncover some secrets of the world that we wouldn't know otherwise.  However, there is a drastic difference between a belief being founded solely on reason and a belief that is reasonable.  Many people claim to use reason as their only foundation for truth (and thereby discredit the existence of God, who they claim cannot be proved from logic or science). But that position arrogantly ignores the other 3 sources of knowledge. Thorough-thinking Christians have often claimed that beliefs should be reasonable: they should be coherent, correspond to the world as we experience it, and not contradict the laws of logic.  Christianity should definitely fit that bill.  But if we exalt reason too highly, making it the only determiner of truth, we can force realities that might lie beyond human reason, like God, into a little box of our own understanding. And the mystery of God doesn't squish into boxes very well.

4. What Our Intuition, Feelings, and Personal Story Say - Experience.  This is probably the dominant path to knowledge in our day on the really important issues.  "It feels good, so it must be right." "My spirituality is really important to me: it makes me feel good."  But when we base our views of ultimate reality only on what we've experienced, that's a pretty limited data set. Can we trust that our fickle feelings, our momentary glimpses of insight, can tell us everything we need to know about the world around us?  But experience is certainly not a bad thing: Christianity has always claimed not only to be a set of beliefs, but to be a doorway into a new experience of God and the universe.  Christianity without experience is dead dogmatism, so Christians can expect, in varying ways and over long periods of time, to have their experience confirm their beliefs.  However, a Christianity (or any other spirituality) founded on experience is trouble, because our experience notoriously shifts and changes over time.  And truth, if it's truly truth for everyone, shouldn't.

To summarize: none can stand alone.  As people who truly desire to know truth, we have to seek to integrate each source of knowledge as we answer these questions.  On any given topic, we should be asking, "What does divine revelation tell us? What wisdom does my culture or tradition have? What is reasonable? And how does my experience impact this?"

But we have to start somewhere, and we have to decide which one is most important.  If we choose to start answering these questions via culture & tradition, reason, and experience, honesty will demand that we eventually acknowledge that each comes up short: they make humanity the final arbiter of truth, and it seems dangerous to make such a powerful claim about our limited viewpoint!  However, if we are seeing these categories clearly, they should eventually give us hints toward the fuller truth contained in divine revelation (Rom. 1:19-20).  If we start with divine revelation, we gain a gracious "shortcut" into the nature of the reality: but we still need to interpret and integrate these truths using the other categories.  "All truth is God's truth," and these different sources of knowledge can work together to lead us to a more unified picture of our place in the universe...and God's.  

In short, the journey toward truth should be an ever-ascending spiral.  No matter where we start, we should always be seeking, always be learning, always be growing...and ideally gaining confidence that we are growing closer to the truth. Though there may be seasons of disorientation as one path to knowledge seems to chafe against another, the only way through the impasse is to integrate.

Our Desire, and God's

However, there is another major factor in this discussion that merits attention: our attitude towards seeking strongly influences what we find.  In philosophical jargon, this is called "virtue epistemology."  The crux of vitrue epistemology is that our posture toward seeking truth greatly determines how much of it we gain.  We've all been in situations where we weren't really engaged in a class, discussion, or book; and therefore, we didn't gain much insight.  Our desire to know is probably just as important, if not more so, than the paths we take to get there.

Turns out, Jesus was ahead of the curve on virtue epistemology.  If you want to find, Jesus says, you have to truly seek: "For everyone who asks, receives, and everyone who searches, finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened" (Matthew 7:8).  In another place, he warns those whose search for truth was eclipsed by their search for glory: "How can you believe when you accept glory from one another and do not seek the glory that comes from the one who alone is God?" (John 5:44).  Jesus' message is clear: if we really want to find the truth, we'll find it. But often, we really don't want to know, because of the what the truth might require of us: conviction, confession, repentance, or transformation! No amount of searching in the world will matter if we refuse to grasp the truth when we find it. Often, we are staring it right in the face, and simply refusing to acknowledge it. 

But there's good news in the face of our ambivalence: according to Christianity, this isn't just a one-sided search. Throughout the Scriptures, God makes clear that his desire for us to find the truth far outweighs our desire to find it.  No matter how much we may seek, we can only grasp God because he was first grasping us.

Luke 19:10 - For the Son of Man came to seek out and save the lost.

Romands 5:8 - But God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us.

John 1:14  - And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us...

Hebrews 1:1-2 - Long ago God spoke to our ancestors in many and various ways by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by a Son... 

A Good General Strategy

Therefore,

(1) Start with Scripture and seek to interpret and confirm what it says through tradition, reason, and experience.  If you don't trust Scripture, be clear-eyed in your search through tradition, reason, and experience and honestly see if it points toward truths contained in Scripture.

(2) Commit yourself to follow the evidence wherever it leads...even if it's uncomfortable.

(3) Trust that God is seeking you far more deeply than you are seeking Him.

May your search for answers be fruitful beyond your wildest expectations!

Pastor Ken

Exploring the Art for the "Human" Sermon Series

By Ken Robertson, Assistant Pastor

Starting Sunday, September 7th, Church of the Advent is launching into a new Sermon Series rooted in Genesis 1: "Human."  This sermon series will use the text of Genesis and the gospel of Jesus Christ to look at what it means to be truly and fully human.

To complement this series, we're highlighting two works of art that reflect this theme.

Michaelangelo's "The Creation of Adam" - c. 1511

For the sermon series website banner, we focused on Michaelangelo's "The Creation of Adam," a fresco painted on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in 1511.  It is an iconic image of humanity's creation in the image of God for a reason: the physical anatomy, the dynamic movement, and the symbolism (check out Wikipedia's "Popular Theories" section on the piece) are captivating.  For the website banner, we chose to zoom in on God's & Adam's hands: both because genitalia on a website banner would be slightly awkward, and because the hands are so exquisite they just about say it all.  The font used is from the Aquiline family, chosen as an homage to the age of renewed humanism that inspired Michaelangelo.  However, this age often chose "Man" over and against God, and reflected a humanism that results in a dead end philosophically and spiritually.  Our desire is to foster a "Christian humanism" that sees life in Christ as a recovery of full humanity.

---

For our bulletin cover, Adventer Jason Dudley chose a work by Expressionist Georges Rouault titled, "Head of Christ," painted in 1939.  Rouault was an avowedly Christian painter, who was once quoted as saying, "My only objective is to paint a Christ so moving that those who see him will be converted." However, his work was significant both for its subject matter and its form, and it has earned great acclaim in the years since his death in the 1950's.

"Head of Christ - 1939" - Georges Rouault on the Advent bulletin cover.

"Head of Christ - 1939" is a beautiful portrait of the humanity of Christ.  Painted in earth tones, with a simplicity of style and downward focus, the painting reflects the Son's condescension to take on the form of dust that is our mortal nature.  The halo that classically surrounds Christ is hidden and subtle, but not absent: divinity is cloaked in a shroud of humanity. It is only my speculation, but the figure behind Christ seems to be that of a person (only the top of his bare head can be seen). Christ seems to be stepping in front of him, as if to say: "Don't look at yourself to define true humanity: look at me. I am the source, and goal, and the truest picture, of everything it means to be human."  Alternatively, the image behind Christ could be the cross: the symbol of his death, and the symbol of his victory over death. Through Christ, human life is no longer a parenthesis; it is a vocation that lasts into a new creation beyond the tomb. 

As we trace the narrative of Scripture from creation to redemption this fall, may we remember that true humanity comes from being born in the image of God and experiencing the restoration of that image in Jesus Christ.  We hope and pray that as we journey through Genesis, you'll find yourself becoming more fully human in the process.

"The glory of God is a human being fully alive" - Irenaeus

My Daily Prayer

This journal entry comes from Adventer Gina Villanueva, a resident of Hirschfeld Towers here in Baker.  Thank you so much for sharing with us, Gina!

 God be thanked that He wakes me up each morning to allow me to talk with Him, and my first words are, "Father God, thank you for delivering me, and Hirschfield Towers from evil, the past night." 

Please forgive me my sins, and take me back. 

Father, I praise You for another divine morning, punctuated by Your signature of the beautiful Colorado mountains that seem to grow each day, as I gaze at them from my picture window of four frames: two vertical, and two horizontal, showing me that Your creation is both vertical and horizontal.  You are the owner all of that You have created, including the birds chirping, reflecting the divine music which You alone compose (Psalm 92:3).

If there is discordance in my life, Lord, please take it away from me, and grant me the grace to stay away from it.

I thank You, Father, for placing me in the Church of the Advent, who continually reaffirm my sense of humanity, who shows me that You are love through their fellowship.  I thank you for my church's pro-active, concrete, tangible interface with the Baker neighborhood's everydayness, for keeping my heart in the moment, and for reminding me You are faithful and true. 

I thank You for putting me at Hirschfield Towers, and for blessing its management, and all of its residents.

Lord, I thank you for my attempts at making each step that I make toward my neighbors at Hirschfield Towers, leaving a reflection of Your glory, an imprint of Your love, a fragrance of Your presence -- just by making conversation with one soul sitting at the lobby, staring either at Dailey Park, or, even nothingness, for that matter -- in their wheelchair, or, walker, perhaps feeling weary and just waiting to give up their ghost, from love-deficiency: feeling depressed, useless in their mortal casing, unloved, un-visited by relatives or loved ones...(John 15:5).

Most of all, Father God, on behalf of my church, my family, my friends, my neighbors, my national and international earthly leaders, and Your detractors (poised against me, because I am Your royal daughter), I receive Your blessings and forgiveness for this day, as I walk with You. 

We ask for Your hand to cover us, Your power to keep us, Your face to shine upon us, Your love to fill us, Your strength to sustain us, and Your sufficiency to be our portion in every need we may face today.   We desire the greatest blessing of all, the blessing of Your daily presence, as we listen to Your Word.

We are Here, We Believe, and We are Enough

By Adventer Josh Lancette.  The rest of this journal entry can be found at Venn Magazine. Click on the link to read on, and congratulations on getting this published, Josh!

I walk into the room and see fifty people of different ethnicities, economic statuses, and fashion styles. Up front, the pastor is dressed in a white robe, a purple sash draped across his neck and falling over his shoulders.

“The Lord be with you,” he proclaims, his hands open and extended towards us.

“And also with you,” we say back. And we mean it, even though it spills out of us as a habit.

Read the rest here...

So Broke We Can't Pay Attention

This poem and collage were created by Gladys Drew, an Adventer living in Hirschfeld Towers.  Thank you for sharing this with us, Gladys!

It’s time to take

The leap into the unknown

Into dry sand and broken bricks

The place where transformation starts,

Where energy burns into a passion

That melds commitment to principles

And the truth that brings forth life.

I love being the broken vessel

Molded into the very image of Christ.

God can use me any way He likes

Because in me, He made a heart

Filled with the softness of new birth,

 With a new love; for now I reside

In His Kingdom, I love His people,

I pray, I obey, I do, I am…

© Gladys Drew

 7.14.2014

Love, Laughter, and Lullabies

This blog post was written by Adventer, husband, father, and medical resident Josh Williams.  The audio of Josh telling this story during the Kingdom Moment can be found at adventdenver.com/sermons.  Feel free to use the comment section at the bottom of the post...

It has not been easy for me to be a dad. In fact, early on, the things of fatherhood grated on me. I did not like waking up every two hours at night, I grappled with losing my one-on-one time with wife Danielle, and I lamented the lack of my introvert time. I had things to do. I had medical facts to learn. I deserved rest from my 80-hour workweek. Sure, there was much joy for me in being a father, but I often found myself resenting losses of freedom and free time. In short, I had become embittered against my daughter, and while I knew that I loved her, I did not often feel it.

About two months ago, these feelings came to a head. Halfway through a 3-month stint of 80-hour work weeks, I found myself beginning a stretch of 5 night shifts on a busy pediatric inpatient ward. While working nights is terrible enough in and of itself, I was planning to finish my stretch Friday morning, return home and shower, and leave an hour later to fly to a scientific conference in Vancouver. There, I would present my research, get back on the plane, and return to Denver within 48 hours for my next shift.

So, on Sunday – the first shift of five – I felt stressed. On Monday, I developed a horrid vomiting and diarrheal illness. Barely able to make it through my shift, I returned home to spend my sleeping hours alternating between shaking chills in the bed and shaking loose in the bathroom.

On Tuesday, Danielle began a stretch of 3 night shifts as well. With both of us away at night, our nanny spent 18 hours a day at our home. When she left, Danielle and I agreed to take equal childcare shifts during the 6 hours she was away to let the other rest. And yet, Eden learned a new trick that week: screaming. Loudly. Every fifteen minutes. In so doing, she ended any real possibility of sleep for me. So, during my time with her, I was livid, and during my time in bed, I was nauseous and livid, drifting in and out of an angry consciousness punctuated by shrill cries.

On Wednesday, I learned my passport had expired three weeks prior. Having already spent over a thousand dollars for the trip, I refused to stay home. So, I journeyed to the Denver Passport Office to spend three of my six sleeping hours waiting in line, filling out forms, and responding to questions from Passport Agents.

On Thursday, I snapped at a coworker during my shift, thought I needed to admit myself to the hospital for dehydration, and spent another 3 hours of my 6 hours for sleep in the passport office. When I returned home, Danielle left to run an errand, asking me to watch Eden as she was about to take a nap. Begrudgingly, I agreed, and I took her into the bedroom with me. After spending fifteen minutes rocking her to sleep, I gently laid her down, crawled into bed, and closed my eyes. Not a minute later, our duplex neighbor started hammering a nail into the wall that separates us. Eden woke up and started to cry.

Unable to bear the burden of work, sleep deprivation, sickness, and screaming any longer, I sprung out of bed, grabbed the rails of Eden’s pack-n-play, and shook them.

Hard.

“Shut up!” I yelled, tears in my bloodshot eyes shooting bullets. “Shut up! Shut UP! SHUT UP!” I raged. “Why won’t you let me sleep?!”

Eden startled and froze, every muscle in her body becoming as stone, a look of panic engraved on her face. Her eyes, always big as saucers, widened even further, and she held her breath – for a second. Then, in a flash, she went berserk. Arms and legs flailed uncontrollably while her screams reached a pitch I had never before heard, one filled with echoes of desperation and fear. It was a scream that cried out for protection…for love. And yet, in that moment, I could not hear her. I turned away, closed our bedroom door, and walked outside while she stormed. Sitting down on our front steps, I broke down, holding out my shaking hands: hands that just 10 days prior had baptized Eden.

***

Three weeks later, Ken came over to our place for RD. It was a Saturday morning and I had the day off, but Danielle was working, so I was watching Eden. I hadn’t told Danielle about the afternoon three weeks prior, and it seemed as though Eden had forgotten. But, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The day haunted me. I – a father, a husband, a Christian, a pediatrician-in-training – had shaken the rails of a crib while yelling at the infant inside. I was consumed with guilt and shame, and strangely, instead of turning my heart toward Eden, these feelings pushed my heart even further away. I felt more distant than ever.

Yet, just before Ken arrived, I managed to get Eden to nap, so I sat outside on our front porch, trying to skim the week’s material before he showed up. Ken came a few minutes later, greeting me with a big hug and giant smile as usual. We sat down on the porch and started catching up. After hearing from Ken, I started to talk – and realizing that I was speaking in a space that was safe – I kept on talking. I started with the horrible week on nights and never looked back: the vomiting, the diarrhea, the screeching, the passport problems, the sleep deprivation, and then – as tears welled up to sting my eyes – the shouting…the crib-shaking… and the panic of a terrified, screaming, daughter.

The guilt. The shame. The hands…my hands.

Giant salty drops ran from the bridge of my nose to pound the ground below, forming a pool of remorse. I stared into that pool, unable to lift my eyes to meet Ken’s loving gaze. Then, after a silence, Ken asked me a question: “Josh,” he began in a soft voice, “if Jesus had been in that room with you, what would he have done?”

At first, several thoughts raced through my mind, but in a moment of God-given clarity, one took hold. And it wrecked me. Blubbering through sobs, I said, “He would have bent down, picked up Eden, and held her. And when she knew it was safe, he would have held me, too.” Ken nodded, put his arm around me, and let me cry.

***

After a while, I asked Ken to help me pray for forgiveness. He offered a few options, and I chose to journey with him through a rite in the Book of Common Prayer: the ministry of Reconciliation of a Penitent. The text of the rite is below:

The Priest and Penitent begin as follows

Have mercy on me, O God, according to your loving-kindness; in your great compassion blot out my offenses. Wash me through and through from my wickedness, and cleanse me from my sin. For I know my transgressions only too well, and my sin is ever before me. Holy God, Holy and Mighty, Holy Immortal One, have mercy upon us.

Penitent   Pray for me, a sinner.

Priest

May God in his love enlighten your heart, that you may remember in truth all your sins and his unfailing mercy. Amen. “This is a true saying, and worthy of all men to be received, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.”

The Priest then continues

Now, in the presence of Christ, and of me, his minister, confess your sins with a humble and obedient heart to Almighty God, our Creator and our Redeemer.

The Penitent says

Holy God, heavenly Father, you formed me from the dust in your image and likeness, and redeemed me from sin and death by the cross of your Son Jesus Christ. Through the water of baptism you clothed me with the shining garment of his righteousness, and established me among your children in your kingdom. But I have squandered the inheritance of your saints, and have wandered far in a land that is waste.

Especially, I confess to you and to the Church...

Here the Penitent confesses particular sins.

Therefore, O Lord, from these and all other sins I cannot now remember, I turn to you in sorrow and repentance. Receive me again into the arms of your mercy, and restore me to the blessed company of your faithful people; through him in whom you have redeemed the world, your Son our Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

Priest

Will you turn again to Christ as your Lord?

Penitent   I will.

Priest

Do you, then, forgive those who have sinned against you?

Penitent   I forgive them.

Priest

May Almighty God in mercy receive your confession of sorrow and of faith, strengthen you in all goodness, and by the power of the Holy Spirit keep you in eternal life. Amen.

Our Lord Jesus Christ, who has left power to his Church to absolve all sinners who truly repent and believe in him, of his great mercy forgive you all your offenses; and by his authority committed to me, I absolve you from all your sins: In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

The Priest concludes

Now there is rejoicing in heaven; for you were lost, and are found; you were dead, and are now alive in Christ Jesus our Lord. Go in peace. The Lord has put away all your sins.

Penitent  Thanks be to God.

At the end, Ken added prophetic words of his own, words I will remember for years to come: “Josh, God does not regret sending his Son to die for you, Jesus does not regret being crucified for you, and the Holy Spirit does not regret living in you. You are loved.” As tears welled up yet again, guilt and shame fled in haste. I was lost, and now found. I was dead, and now alive. The Lord had put away all of my sins, and there was rejoicing in heaven for me. Ken hugged me, said he loved me too, and left me to my thoughts.

Eden woke up almost immediately thereafter. As the babbles and squeaks from her room echoed through our home, I was astonished to feel excited to play with her. I burst into her room, picked her up from her crib, and smiled as I brought her slowly to my chest in a gentle squeeze. I kissed her, pecking at her chubby cheeks and forehead over and over until she pulled away and rubbed her eyes with tiny fingers – code for “Dad! Stop it!” Yet, even as she stayed away, she looked at me and smiled; this time, her saucer-wide eyes conveyed a different message: I forgive you, and I love you.

***

A few hours later, Eden and I showed up at a park in the Baker neighborhood to celebrate Ken’s 30th birthday. He had encouraged me to stay home and spend the day with her, but the thoughts of good friends, delicious food, and birthday cake were too much to pass up. After an hour of party-going, some people ventured out to toss a frisbee. After checking in with a few ladies who didn’t mind sitting babies, I left Eden in their care and joined the game. Minutes later, as if on cue, the sound of Eden fussing echoed over the field, and I jogged back to the group. After trying a few tricks to get her settled, it was clear she wanted to be held, so I scooped her up and jogged back out to play as a team of two.

It was a beautiful, crisp afternoon. Fluffy white clouds hung suspended in an azure sky, and a golden sun illuminated the verdant field with snow-capped mountains in the background. Birds chirped, dogs barked, and – incredibly – Eden laughed. She laughed.

This was incredible. She had laughed only once before. For my mother-in-law. Allegedly.

And yet, as I jogged back onto the field, Eden’s light form bouncing up and down on my arm in a beautiful yellow sundress, she started to laugh. And she wouldn’t stop. With every throw of the frisbee, every catch, every jog to grab a downed disc, she burst out uncontrollably, and so did I. Her squeals were a salve for my soul, and as her giggles rose to heaven, my soul rose with them. Never before had I felt so much love for my daughter. Never before had I felt so much love as a son.

That afternoon, Eden laughed for another twenty-three minutes. I timed it because in the wake of incredible forgiveness, I saw no reason for God to bestow another blessing. Yet, in His mercy, He was pleased to give me laughter: a divine cherry on top of an exceedingly sufficient cake. Excessive love. Excessive grace. And I took it in with glee.

***

Today, fatherhood is still hard for me. I still lament waking up multiple times at night, I still hate cleaning poopy diapers, I still miss my introvert time, and I still make mistakes. Yet, by the grace of God and the power of the Holy Spirit, I remember that day on the porch and in the park, and I get up, clean, play, repent, and repeat.

Then, at the end of the day, I listen to a lullaby: the one Eden hears every night while she drifts to sleep. In the calming dusk after a busy day, I cuddle her gently while she grasps my thumb, and we both hold on as words of reconciliation and rest wash over us:

Be still my soul

Be still and know that He is God

Rest quietly

Rest in his loving arms

For He is watching over you

Ever faithful, Ever true

So be still, my soul

Be still and know that He is God.

"You Make Beautiful Things..."

This post was written by Adventer Shanna Shadoan.  Thank you so much for sharing what God has been doing in your life, Shanna!

 “He will beautify the humble with salvation” - Psalm 149:4

I - who have been consumed with how ugly I felt for so many years - beautiful? But it’s true. The Lord has beautified my life, a life that many times I’ve been willing to throw away.  

I spent the last ten years of my life dreadfully ill, sick of an eating disorder and virtually incapable of an honest relationship.  See, the worst part of being so sick is that not eating gives you so many things to avoid: birthdays, family dinners, Thanksgiving…all celebrations of any sort.  It is, indeed, a holidayless existence.  I can remember wondering how many calories communion wafers have in the - forget birthday cake.  And in order to do all of that holiday-avoiding, you end up lying all the time.  And when you are lying to everyone you love, it is impossible to feel close to them. 

I have been terribly lonely.  Truly, I felt like I was perishing of it; that it wasn’t lack of food, but lack of love, a starvation of the most basic need.  I was lonely for so long that once I finally feared that I couldn’t bear it any longer and I found help with my eating.  It was a blessing of the most tremendous magnitude - I found myself in a situation to have full therapeutic support in recovery. I began to get better, with many tears, one difficult mouthful at a time.

But still I was astonishingly lonely.  Soul-lonely.  Even in the middle of my friends’ birthday parties, I’d feel deeply and terribly alone, such a big aloneness that it would sometimes make me panic. 

At the time, I lived in a very cold place where I could hear church bells every day. And one day, walking home and maybe hearing the bells, or at least thinking about the bells, I knew that I had to write away to some charity that would give me a free Bible.  It was weird, how intense it was, how the idea just came to me.

So I found a website that would mail me one, and I got it, and it just started things changing.

When I moved back to Denver, I Google-mapped all the churches within a certain distance of my house, vowing to stay at the church that was the friendliest. Good news, guys! It was you.  You were so friendly that I felt that this was the right place for me.  And you know the story from there on out, probably, right? The way things change when you know there is an impossible love, that you are a child of the Most High King. Where your heart is so full of peace and brightness and even when things seem impossible there are piles of blessings all around you-AND that peace even when you are in the darkest of depressions and God feels infinitely far away.   Even recently, when I was struggling with a terrible depression and crying for hours and hours, I could cling and wait and know that someday He will wipe away all tears from all faces, and our hearts will know no grief anymore. It’s not that I wasn’t still sad during those times. It’s that my heart was restless until it found rest in the Lord.

Reflection on Faith in the Midst of the Problem of Pain and the God of Oxymorons

This post is a reflection from our own Liz Meier.  Thank you so much for sharing, Liz!

Walking the road of faith can be a challenge, as we seek to trust in a God that we cannot see, touch or hear.  My analytical mind wants concrete proof, the surety of truth and the reality of a tangible god, but that’s not who God is.  He is instead an oxymoron of sorts that I can neither explain nor express with my finite human words.  He is all knowing, but not fully knowable.  He is just, but forgiving.  He is constantly present, but not visible.  He is grace-filled and righteous.  The tension of this oxymoron was not evident to me in my early days as a young child and teen who blanketly believed what others told me “about God.”  Recently though, my relationship with God has evolved into a deeper, more confused sense of being with a God of oxymorons (seemingly contradictory statements).  He is not at all predictable, but I depend on him thoroughly, as my entire worldview revolves around his existence.  As I’ve walked the road of faith and belief in this God of oxymorons, it’s been most difficult for me to grasp God’s ability to be in the tension of an oxymoron and in the midst of the problem of pain in the world.  Pain isn’t a new reality to me, but one I’ve faced on and off over the years. 

Looking back over the past 2 years, it seems to me that I’ve faced one challenge or painful experience after another, being caught up in the undertow of pain and discouragement and surfacing only long enough to catch my breath from one experience to the next.  This struggle to surface has been utterly exhausting, on top of my profession as an expert “caregiver.”  I briefly tested myself on a stress test that assesses the stress you’ve experienced in the past year or two, and I was amazed at how high the results were.  In the past two years: I’ve been in two major car accidents, moved 3 times, had a major surgery, changed jobs, and lost friends to busyness and babies. My grandpa died, I experienced two break ups [one of which was extremely hurtful and harsh], and I work over 60+ hours a week between my full time job/babysitting/volunteering. I’ve worked in a toxic job where I constantly kept track of my records for fear of being fired, lived in a very lonely, isolated, and oppressive place, and faced migraines, chronic back pain and auto-immune diseases that leave me exhausted and worn out. Many of my dreams and hopes have been deferred or deserted to pay for or deal with other problems.  I've grieved the loss of hopes and dreams of having a family of my own and the strain of how I’ve struggled financially with graduate school loans.  Through all of this, I’ve regularly felt very fearful and alone -- living alone and dependent on only myself, making my thoughts and feelings about these difficult situations that much worse.  But I survived, even if I was, from my assessments very, very broken.  It was hard, because I am used to being - and am expected to be - this strong, independent caring woman, and when I hit rock bottom, people [myself included] were surprised at my brokenness and frailty.   Reflecting back on that time, I also noticed the constant spiritual warfare and work of Satan.  It was often through the smallest emotional and spiritual struggles that Satan implanted lies into my heart.  This pain and stress caused me to question God, his goodness, his basic existence and why he allowed these painful experiences to happen. 

I hit rock bottom hard, as my world seemed to fall apart all around me after the harsh break up I went through as it progressively "broke up" from October of 2013 to March of 2014.  The words used against me were jagged and sharp, cutting deeply into my heart and breaking and marring it, and betraying my trust [I’m cautious as I share this story, to not aggrandize it or make it bigger than it was, but the people who have walked with me through it, recognize the depth of the pain it caused].  Those words continue to haunt me to this day, and I often find myself in a spiritual battle with God over the lies this person spoke into my life.  I was completely empty, struggling and alone.  I needed help, love and grace, but I didn’t know how to ask for it or who to ask.  I felt very alone, even when I was with people.  People, including myself, didn’t really know what had happened to me, the "strong independent unique" woman.  I was a complete mess.  It was all I could do to hold onto my sanity and perform at work, and I found myself curling up into a tight little ball like a hedgehog, which only isolated me further from friends and family.  Regular struggles, like my hopes of being a wife and mother continuing to be postponed, seemed ten times worse than normal. [It was and is a spiritual struggle for me to be content and not bitter while attending a church with 12-14 babies around].  I found myself shut down and disconnected from people I cared about and things I was passionate about.  And I was so exhausted from work and dealing with my student's messy lives that I rarely let people in to help me or let them into see my mess.  For a while, I lived a very numb life.

In the midst of all this, it was difficult to recognize God in my life.  I felt and sensed that he had abandoned me when I needed him the most.  It was a confusing, dark time, as I wrestled with whether or not I even wanted to believe in God anymore.  I had lost hope in life and in God.  In my spiral downward, I railed at God, and I slowly became bitter.  I was angry.  I pushed people away and hurt them unintentionally.  I was a broken mess, and felt like I was hurting people I came into contact with, no matter what my good intentions were for them.  Satan seized the opportunity to plant seeds of doubt in my mind about my relationship with God and about my faith in Him.  It was alarming at how quickly Satan destroyed my strong faith of many years.  At times, I sinned boldly, almost mockingly, testing God’s grace.  I argued with God, all the while keenly aware of my humanity and arrogance.  I almost turned my back on him, but could not find meaning in life without him.  I couldn't understand why God would allow such deep pain in my life, while still expecting me to trust in him as a good God.

In mid-April the storm finally broke, and I could sense I was coming out of the worst of the painful experiences.  If anything, I found hope in God again, and it was like I had finally been able to take a breath of fresh air after being caught in the undertow for so long.  Being able to breathe after having the crushing weight of this pain and discouragement forcing the life out of me was - and is - a huge relief.  It’s been about a month of healing since that time, and I have again found great comfort in knowing God.  At the women’s retreat, I finally shared a bit of my brokenness with others, and God reminded me of two important truths.  The first was that He is near to the brokenhearted, and I cling to that in my grief, stress or loneliness.  The second was a recognition that God had stripped away all my self-made ways of knowing him, until I was so broken that I could only believe in Him with the simple faith of a child.  I also recently went through a session on healing prayer, and was blessed with the beautiful truth that God sees me, God hears me, God knows me and God understands me.  The truth of these statements was like a healing balm to my soul, and healed away much of the pain I had experienced in the past year.  At the end of the healing prayer, God called me to know him.  I think there is great beauty in this brokenness that produced a simple faith in me.  And the magnitude and wonder of being known by God and seeking to know Him has answered my deepest longing – to be known and understood as me -- the unique, precious and beautiful woman that he created me to be.  The experience of facing pain with God is like a refining fire, producing a finer, more beautiful faith in God and a deeper trust in his true, albeit oxymoronic character.  I hope and pray that I remember these truths from this day forward, trusting in the true God.

Blessings,

Liz

Easter Season Bulletin Art: Caravaggio's "Supper at Emmaus" (1606)

Caravaggio (d. 1610) was an Italian Baroque master painter whose works often depicted religious themes.  In "Supper at Emmaus" (1606), Caravaggio depicts the moment where the resurrected Christ reveals Himself to Cleopas and another disciple through the breaking of the bread (Luke 24:13-35).  This particular painting is actually Caravaggio's second attempt to capture the scene: in his earlier painting, the woman wasn't present, and the disciples' reactions were far more demonstrative.  

Why did we choose this painting as the cover of our Easter bulletin? It's not what you might normally think of as an "Easter" scene: it's darker than you might expect, the resurrected Jesus isn't shining in a glorious light-bathed halo, and there are several figures in the painting who look slightly less than enthused.

But that's exactly the point.  Often, the resurrected Christ meets us in the normal, day-to-day activities of our lives - like sitting down to eat a meal.  It was in the breaking of bread, the symbol of the Eucharistic feast, that the disciples' eyes were opened.  

And our reactions to the resurrected Christ vary from person-to-person, and from day-to-day.  Sometimes we are blown away by Christ's presence and work, like the disciple in the bottom left of the picture.  His hands are wide in astonishment, as if he's been blown back by the force of Jesus' glory.  Other times we want to lean in and grab hold of the mystery, to be drawn in to intimacy with the mystery.  That's represented in the other seated disciple, who grasps the table and keeps his eyes firmly fixed on Jesus.

Other times we are distracted.  Like the man standing over Jesus' shoulder, we fix our eyes on the passing details of life, like the bread on the table, and miss the enormity of what is happening before us.  Or we may be like the woman, so overwhelmed with the suffering and sorrow of life - symbolized by the lines on her face and sorrowful expression - that we fail to realize we are in the presence of the Resurrected One.

This Easter season, our prayer as a church is that we would move from standing over the table to sitting at it with the resurrected Christ.  May our eyes be opened to see the miracle of new life bursting forth from death!

What else do you see in this picture?  Are there other insights into resurrection life here? Write your comments below!

- Ken

Beautiful Feet

This is Deacon Cindy Hamilton's last update from Peru, because she and her husband Brad will be joining us back in Denver soon.  Praise God for everything he has done through her in Peru, and pray that they will both return safely to the States.

Romans 10:13-15 ‘…for, “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”  How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them?  And how can they preach unless they are sent?  As it is written, “How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!”            

---

     Twelve months ago when I first arrived in Cajamarca and was having all of the classic culture shock symptoms, I knew it would be like this.  I knew I would be sad when the time came to leave.  Brad just called and he has been given his final workday in Peru.  Though I knew it was coming, I expected more notice than eight weeks.  Now, suddenly, the life that is very much the same day after day here seems so precious, and as though there is not enough time to do all of the last things; but that is ridiculous.  I will grieve leaving Peru; it is so different from my life in the States. I will miss the unique things of life in Banos del Inca and Cajamarca.  But, mostly I will grieve leaving Maria, our employee, my friend and tutor.

     When I first arrived here and was having the first of many cups of Matte de Coca tea with Maria, she revealed that she was not very interested in God things.  I resolved to pray for her and give it time.  A week later another woman asked if I would lead her in a Bible Study.  I was delighted, said yes, and we set a day and an hour.  The day and the hour came but the woman did not show.  Maria was aware of all of this. Just three weeks later Maria told me she had mentioned to her friend Marleny that she had observed that I prayed and read my Bible daily.  This prompted Marleny to ask if I would lead her in Bible Study.  I suspect Marleny had also heard the story of the woman who did not show.

     I told Maria I would be delighted to lead Marleny in a study of the Bible if Maria would join us also.  That was the beginning of lots of wonderful afternoons in the Word with the two of them.  It started slow: I noticed the first afternoon that Marleny seemed uncomfortable sitting at my dining room table.  I asked her if everything was all right. I struggled then, and sometimes still do, to understand her Spanish, so often Maria has to interpret for me. (Maria understands that Gringas hear slowly.)  What was explained to me was that Marleny wanted to make sure that I was really OK with her being in my house, the part of the house where guests are received.  She could not quite grasp that I was serving her coffee and cake.  Though Peru is not India, it still has a strong sense of class conscience.  This gave me the perfect opportunity to share the great love of Jesus. Who knew that serving cake and coffee was the modern day foot washing? 

     It did not take her long to realize that she was indeed a welcomed guest in my home.  Until writing this I had forgotten how she had brought a copy of her identity papers to give me that first day; a security expectation here and one so foreign to me.  I thanked her kindly and handed it back to her. 

     Maria and Marleny have both engaged in the study of the Bible so completely that it has been a blessing to me.  They ask thoughtful questions and frequently display joy at having been set free by a truth we have explored together in God’s word.  After we had studied together for a few months I took each one of them aside separately.  I told them that I believed that they had chosen to follow Jesus and wondered if I was correct.  Each of them said yes they had indeed decided to follow Jesus.  Marleny was quick to add that her life was changing but that it was slow, a pace I assured her that was true for all of us who choose to follow Christ.  I explained to them the idea of praying the sinner’s prayer.  I had written out a version in Spanish and let them read it.  Then I asked if they were ready to pray such a prayer.  They both were and then prayed, inviting Jesus into their lives, thanking him for his great sacrifice for them.  I had a good cry with each of them.  Maria said how beautiful the prayer was, meaning having the whole truth of salvation summed up in a prayer and praying it.  They both loved the idea of recording the date in the back of their Bibles. 

     Over the last few months Maria has begun attending the church we attend in Banos, she also attends English classes there on Wednesday nights.  Marleny does too, though not as regularly.  Maria has participated with me in various evangelistic outings and we regularly end up with the Bible open exploring an idea when we have tea in the mornings.  One morning over tea I was telling Maria something about how much Brad works and that I had very little to do.  She broke in with the sweetest thought: ‘Senora,’ she said, ‘your work is to teach me the Bible.’ 

     That sums up my time in Peru.  God has been good to me here. I had some very interesting things to attend to.  But, the sweetest of all was to have beautiful feet. 

A Piece of the Puzzle

The latest journal update from our Deacon Cindy Hamilton, living and serving with her husband Brad in Peru.  Pray for her!

Hands down the hardest week of mission opportunity in Cajamarca, Peru came while interpreting for Wheels for the World.This is a Joni E. Toda worldwide ministry. I have a most profound respect for this ministry and do not hesitate to recommend it to you for a ministry to support with your prayers, time, talent and money. What they do is wonderful, life changing, and difficult.

Here is how it works: All year long there are people in the US gathering up donations of wheel chairs of all varieties as well as walkers, canes and crutches.This is undoubtedly one of the best-organized short-term ministries I have experienced. They gather teams of people. The group I served with had 8 teams. Each team had a physical or occupational therapist, a mechanic, at least one helper and an interpreter.

Each patient brought in was interviewed, prayed for and heard at least two gospel presentations. I loved being given the freedom to share as the Spirit led. After the interview, we prayed for the patient, telling them that we were asking for just the right chair for their needs and that God would guide the mechanic and the PT or OT as each chair was retrofitted to the patient.

So, there is the brief description of what went on.  But, how do I tell you about this week?  It was hard.  I have never been around so much human suffering, and it was all around me all day for five days.  There were lines of people waiting, many on pads on the floor.  That was familiar to them. Many of the people that came have spent most of their lives on a pad in a corner of their home.  Think of home as a place made of mud bricks with a mud floor, no electricity, no running water, no indoor plumbing of any kind; a dark space.

There were blind people and severely deformed children and adults. Some paralyzed from birth or by accident; one man came who was blind and much of his face was being eaten by a flesh eating parasite. 

By the time I worked with WFW I had interpreted for several short-term mission teams, most of them medical and I had never seen anything close to this kind of suffering.  These were the hidden people whose lives were beyond my experience and yet they were the loved people, someone cared enough for them to bring them to church to receive help.

I grieved with the mothers who had children of various ages who would forever be in diapers.  How did they manage with this extra burden when their lives were already so very difficult?  How did they hold resentment at bay?

The great irony of this time was my daily meditation. I had just begun the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises and was in the third week of preparation.  The grace I was to be praying was to have a sense of wonder at my own creation and the part God has given me in it.  For most of the week I just grieved, how could I focus on a sense of wonder in my creation when I was seeing all of this human suffering? How could I come to grips with the creation that resulted in so much sickness?  How was I to respond to it, what was/is my part of the creation in this?

My husband, Brad, rescued me on the last day as I prepared to leave for the church in Cajamarca; knowing how I felt, he said to me ‘just be the best piece of the puzzle you can be today’.  This came from a conversation I had a few years ago with a professor just after turning in my graduate thesis.  He asked me how I felt about it. I told him I thought it was insignificant.  And he said to me, ‘Ah, but it is a piece of the puzzle’.  I will explain this more in a moment.

You see, the grief I had was due to my inability to do anything significant for all of the people I saw that week. Added to that dilemma was the confusion of praying to be in awe of my own creation when I was seeing people whose creation simply equaled human suffering to me.  Why God?

On Day 3 of preparation week 3 the scripture meditation was Isaiah 43:1-19.  This is the order I recorded it in my journal: 

v. 15. I am the Lord, your Holy one, Israel’s Creator, your King.

v. 4. You are precious and honored in my sight, and … I love you.

My question to this verse was who, who is precious and honored, who do you love?  The answer is found in this verse:

v. 7. everyone who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made. 

The message to me was that I had to get over myself.   I have been given a healthy body and I do not know the same suffering or poverty of the Peruvians I was meeting, but this did not mean that there isn’t a wonder to their creation as well as mine.

God said because he is the Lord, the Holy one, the King of all creation he considers us precious and honored in his sight and he loves us.  In fact if we are called by his name we have been created for his glory.  This is for those wrapped in human suffering and poverty as well those who are not.

But then the question for me is, and has been for ages, how do I fit in? How do I honor God by being who he has created me to be as well as being mindful of the poor and the sick and the orphans and the widows? I cannot conquer poverty or set free those who are imprisoned in conditions beyond my control.

On Preparation Day 5, I found myself in Ecclesiasticus 43 (from the Apocrypha):

 “(the stars) on orders of the Holy One stand in their appointed places; they never relax in their watches.  We could say more but never say enough let the final word be,  

                HE IS ALL.

Where can we find the strength to praise him? He is greater than all his works.  Glorify the Lord and exalt him as much as you can, for he surpasses even that.  When you exalt him, summon all your strength, and do not grow weary for you cannot praise him enough.  For the Lord has made all things…”

The Lord has made all things and requires that we all praise him.  When we think of ourselves as just one, just me, it is easy to despair at our sinfulness, our smallness…the little that we can do to serve the Lord; to be useful to suffering people.

But, when I realize that I am a part of the entire creation, the part that God created me to be, I am part of a greater whole. I am just like the stars in Eccl 43:10, they stand in place at his command.  Now, I do not stand in place but I can be in my place, wherever I am. 

I am only one piece and yet I am a piece of the puzzle in the Kingdom. While I am in place it may be easy not to notice me, but if I am missing there is a hole in the puzzle, in the Kingdom.  I am a part of the whole that lives and moves and has its being in God.  So my piece and your piece are part of the glorious whole in God. Our being in the creation puzzle, the Kingdom, does not diminish God.  In fact, without my piece, without your piece, the creation puzzle is incomplete.

So it is with those who endure unexplainable suffering: the creation is incomplete without them.  I know it is not the original design, but it is the inevitable design. I do not know all the days of my future and what I am to do in response to suffering, but I know this, God has given each of us a part to play in the Kingdom.  We need to discover what that is each day.  It may not look the same from one day to the next or it may.  My part will not look like your part, but each of us must be the best part, the best piece of the creation puzzle that we can be.

Nothing that I do is more important than remembering to exalt God with all my strength and ‘not grow weary for’ I ‘cannot praise him enough.’  Let the final word be...

          ‘HE IS ALL!’

More Majestic Than the Everlasting Mountains

"Glorious are you, more majestic than the everlasting mountains."

Ps. 76.4

Last night, the Olympics started up in Sochi.  Which means lots of funny facebook pictures of dual toilets without a wall in between, extended commentary on Russian politics, and mountains. LOTS of mountains.

As Sarah and I watched the first night of competition, the cameras transported us to Rosa Khutor, the site of the downhill skiing and snowboarding competitions.  As the cameras swooped over the peaks, my heart leapt and shuddered in my chest.  What beauty!  What majesty!  What strength!  What wildness!  What danger!  And what a privilege to live in a city where we can turn the corner and see such peaks right in our back yard.  I went to bed full and thankful, and longing to take a trip up to the high country.

But this morning, as I entered the throne room of God in Morning Prayer, I realized that a trip up I-70 or 285 would sell beauty short, would only give a glimpse of majesty.  Psalm 76 jolted me back to a deeper reality:

"Glorious are you, more majestic than the everlasting mountains."

More.

More majestic. More glorious.  

God says:

If you think the mountains are beautiful, look at me. The one who made them.

God says:

If the peaks and crags fill you with awe, look at me.  The one who can reshape them.

God says:

If the wildness of them puts a lump in your throat, look at me.  The one you cannot control.

As you head to the slopes, and watch the Olympics, and look out your kitchen window, don't just look at the mountains.  Look through them...to the one who imagined them and brought them into being.  May our hearts leap and shudder as the rocky slopes become a window, transparent to the greater glory, and greater majesty, of GOD.

Silent

By Gladys Drew

A beautiful poem for a cold, snowy week here in Colorado...

Bedded within this heart of flesh

deeply swaddled by blankets of faith,

lies the stellar peace of God - 

which, silent, embraces my soul

beyond understanding or human knowledge.

Holy quiet enfolds,

and loves me, and comforts me well

throughout the soundless night.

Walking Into the Throne Room

Last Sunday, Rob preached from Isaiah 6, that great passage of Scripture that describes the worship that goes on continually in the throne room of heaven (Message Title: The God of Hosts).  But so often, our vision of God - and the praise he deserves - is obscured by the roller coaster of life.

So why not set aside the cares of your day and focus your mind on the glory of God by entering his throne room through Christ? Marvel at his awesome power, holiness, love, and grace. Try it for five minutes a day and see what happens!

A few ideas to get you started:

1.      Meditate on a psalm.  Don’t just read it. Drink it in. Reflect upon particular phrases and what they reveal about God.

2.      Write a psalm. Write your own psalm of praise and thanksgiving to God, remembering his glory and celebrating his grace.

3.      Contemplate a passage or event in scripture.  Enter in through your imagination to the creation of the universe (Genesis 1) or the encounter between God and Moses at the burning bush (Exodus 3-4) or on Mount Sinai (Exodus 33-34) or Isaiah in the Temple (Isaiah 6) or Jesus’ ministry, his death or his resurrection (Gospels ) or the glory of the New Creation (pretty much anywhere in the book of Revelation).  Go beyond reading to contemplating and delighting yourself in the vision of God.

4.      ABC Praise.  Walk through the alphabet and for each letter, contemplate one of God’s characteristics.  A: Almighty; B: Beautiful; C: Compassionate, etc. Stop with each one and celebrate God’s goodness and grace.

5.      Either in body or spirit, travel to some amazing part of creation and contemplate the mind of the God who made it. Marvel at the handiwork of the God who made you and redeemed you. Or, take a walk and find some small part of creation to contemplate. Explore with your mind the intricacies of what that aspect of creation reveals to you about God, whether it be a particular leaf or rock or root.

6.      Sing praise through one of your favorite songs, paying close attention to the words.

7.      Journal all that you have to be thankful for.  How has God revealed his goodness and grace to you lately?

My Favorite Day - An Update from Deacon Cindy

The Story Continues...

One of my favorite days of interpreting here in Peru came quite unexpectedly.  I thought the short-term mission season was over, and in a way it was: there were no more medical teams coming to Villa Milagros in 2013.  However, I was invited to interpret for a different team from Arkansas.  The men were helping to build a church in Matara and the four women on the team planned a three-day ministry for women.

One of the give-aways

The women had planned a craft for each day and gifts to give away at the end of the day.  I can attest that those gently used or new sheets and towels some of us have sent with mission teams before are gratefully received by women living in harsh conditions in the Third World.

The main part of their program was that each day a woman would share her testimony.  Each of the stories that were shared were of a difficult life experience; the first one was about a son that had died, the second was of a grandson who was killed in a car accident, and the third was of being raped. I was a bit apprehensive about translating these stories.  I was comfortable with interpreting for the doctors, as there was so much repetition.  But testimony would be different. 

Leading the group...

When we got to the church, I realized that interpreting was not all that was required of me.  There was no one to actually lead the group; being the only person with both languages, the job fell to me.  Honestly, that was the easy part. The pastor (a woman) and I led the singing a cappella.  One day we alternated the verses of Amazing Grace, the English speakers singing in English and the Spanish speakers singing in Spanish.  I wish I could bottle what happened that day while we were singing: it was the sweetest move of the Spirit of God. Many of us, as you can imagine, had tears in our eyes. It was glorious.

The women of Arkansas shared their experiences: they were heartfelt and there were still places of sorrow for each of them.  Yet, the story was not enough if it was just their story: there needed to be an invitation to the women of Matara to receive from the Spirit of God what he had prepared for them.  The first two  days we spent a fair bit of time in prayer as a group at the end of the testimonies.  But the third day was my favorite.

When Anna (not her real name) shared her testimony of having been raped, I could relate, and - as we discovered later - so could many others.  Having been a rape victim many years ago, I have always been sensitive to this crime and the soul destruction it leaves behind. So when Anna finished her testimony, I continued with the idea that we know that when a group of women are gathered, there will be others in the group that have been violated.  I invited any of the women who had been violated and would like to receive one-on-one prayer to stay so that we could pray for them. Prior to this we had only prayed in a large group.

Even though I had made this invitation, I was not sure what would happen next. At that moment, the woman organizing the give-away of gifts came into the room and said to me ‘OK, line them up to get their gifts.’  I was momentarily stunned: how could this happen? God was moving: what should I do?  All of these sweet women were looking at me with expectation. 

I explained to them what had been said, that they could get in line for the gifts, but I also said I would stay and pray for anyone that wanted prayer.  There were 55 to 60 women that day.  I thought that, based on the previous two days, the place might clear out now that the gifts had arrived.

I walked over to the first woman I saw expecting prayer, made the sign of the cross on her forehead, blessed her in the Name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, and then began to pray for her.  I prayed for protection, for healing, for an awareness of the great, great love the Father had for her, for an awareness of his presence in her life and his desire to take her hand and walk with her in this life.

I prayed much the same thing for each woman.  I cannot explain the joy I had, the assurance of God’s presence and his Kingdom, his redemption at work that day.  What he did in each woman’s life I do not know, but I pray that he continues what he has begun.

Can you see this sweet group of women, most of them having those giant palm hats, removing them to receive prayer; standing there in their full skirts and colorful blouses and sweaters and their black shoes? I touched their heads, most with braided hair.  I prayed for them, hugged them, cried with them, and believed for them that God was indeed at work.

Thirty-five women waited that day for prayer.  Waited for a healing touch from their heavenly Father. Thirty-five impoverished women waited to receive prayer while free things were being given away. Thirty-five woman…had they all been violated?  I do not know.  But I do know that if they were, God weeps. And more importantly, he redeems.

Falling in Love All Over Again

By Ken Robertson

Last Saturday, I, some Adventers, and a few Anglican seminary students joined 900 of our closest friends to go listen to a theologian talk about his new 1700 page book on the apostle Paul.

Nerdy, right?

Yeah, it probably was, but if "nerdy" is the first thing that comes to your mind, you need to understand something.  This wasn't just any theologian: it was N.T. Wright.  Or Tom, as his friends call him.

Tom, in all his nerdy, Anglican brilliance.

Never heard of Tom?  He's British, a former Anglican bishop in the Church of the England (which means we bear the same Anglican family resemblance), and probably the most respected New Testament scholar and teacher in the world today.  So...he's kind of a big deal.  And as I discovered at the talk, he happens to be funny (in a British kind of way), brilliant, humble, kind, and...did I mention brilliant?  I already liked Professor Wright, but my respect for him only grew from his talk and our short encounter afterwards.

But meeting Tom in person is not what I'll remember most from that night.  What I'll remember most is that all of Tom's brilliance, humor, and humility were focused in one place: the Scriptures.

Tom talked about the Bible like some people talk about sports teams, or their family, or brew culture.  He knew it backwards, forwards, from top to bottom, right to left, left to right.  He had complete command of the BIG STORY, quoting verbatim and in multiple languages from Deuteronomy, Romans, and a whole host of other books I couldn't keep up with.  He's made a career out of mining the historical context of these books, and he jumped easily between the Roman, Greek, and Jewish worlds that Paul was navigating at the time.  It was a magisterial display of what a life devoted to studying the written Word of God can look like.

It was clear that Tom had a firm grasp of the Scriptures.  But even more evident was the fact that the Scriptures had a firm grasp on him.  He longed to understand them, lived to be saturated in their world, yearned to see them lived out.  He was addicted, in a good way.

Listening in my pew to his heart's cry, I realized that's how I used to be.  I voraciously read through my Bible twice in my early twenties, soaking up every nugget of truth I could find.  But somewhere in seminary and ministry, Bible study became just another spiritual duty.  The delight was gone.  I was learning a lot about the Scriptures, but not listening for what God was saying through them to his people today, or to me personally.

But God, as usual, has been gracious to me when I was less than faithful.  Since I have been preaching more often, some of the fire has started to return.  After I graduated seminary, my personal Bible-reading began to re-kindle my heart.  And now, I feel as though some of the spirit that alighted on Tom has been granted to me.  

I've read more of my Bible this week than I have in the last 3 months.  The Psalms, Hebrews, the gospel of John...even a little Apocrypha on the side.  It's been transformative.  So I've been scouring the Anglican tradition trying to find healthy rhythms that would immerse me in the Scriptures again for the long haul, and I've found some amazing things.  Thomas Cranmer (the architect of the Book of Common Prayer and, therefore, Anglican worship) constructed a schedule for daily Bible reading intended for every Christian that takes the reader through the Old Testament once a year, the New Testament twice a year, and the Psalms once a month. That's a lifetime of 1-year Bible reading challenges, and then some.  And throughout the church's rhythm of daily morning and evening prayer (which is too much ignored in our day), certain critical Scripture passages are repeated over and over again, so that we'll experience not only the breadth of the Scriptures but their depth as well.  I'm currently praying about what God will have me invest in next year in my devotional times, but I am already convinced of one thing: it will involve a lot more time listening to God's voice in the Scriptures.

Pray for me.  Pray that God would continue to rekindle my love for the Scriptures, continue to draw me to his heart through the Story he has written across the pages of history.

Pray for our church.  Pray that we would be a people that is quick to listen, quick to read, and quick to obey what God's word says.  Look at your own rhythms and ask God what His will is for your relationship with Scripture.

And pray for Tom.  Pray that millions more around the world would be taught by God, through his ministry, about the priceless value of the book we too often take for granted.

"Blessed Lord, who caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning: Grant us so to hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that we may embrace and ever hold fast the blessed hope of everlasting life, which you have given us in our Savior Jesus Christ; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.  Amen."

- Thomas Cranmer

Prayer Update

Answered Prayers

You've been praying for these things...and God has answered!

A New Discipleship Group: ...The Marketplace Discipleship Group, led by Colin & Julie Larkin, will be focused on faithfully following Christ in the midst of the workplace.  Their first meeting was on Tuesday night, the 29th.  Pray that God would knit this new group together, both in a common mission and in love for one another, and that they would rely on the Spirit as they seek God's will for their workplaces.

Update: The Marketplace Discipleship Group is rolling!  There are 12 people that have joined this community: Colin, Julie, Sarah, Amy, Luke, Krista, Kevin, Emily, Ben, Abby, Nick, and Hannah...praise God!  By all accounts their first three meetings have been great.  Over the next few months, they'll be growing into a common vision for the workplace, supporting one another in their walks with God, and reading through Tim Keller's book "Every Good Endeavor" about living as a Christian in the marketplace.  Continue praying that the energy inherent in joining something "new" deepens into a growing love for God and one another!

Increased Fellowship with Wellspring Church:  Over 2.5 years ago, Church of the Advent launched out from Wellspring Church into the Baker neighborhood...On November 10th, Ken will give an extended Kingdom Moment about Advent and preside at the Eucharist at both Wellspring services. Pray that our partnership in the gospel would continue to be renewed in tangible ways, and that Ken's visit would be an opportunity for the joy and mission of both our churches to multiply!

Update from Ken:  The time at Wellspring went great!  Billy Waters and Julie Mihevc, the clergy at Wellspring, were very enthusiastic about having us visit, and I had several people from the congregation encourage us to keep pressing in to what God is calling us to do.  So much of our DNA at Advent comes from Wellspring, including our passion for liturgical worship, social justice, and sensitivity to the Spirit.  Pray for further opportunities for our two churches to encourage one another!

Prayer Requests

FamilyFEASTS:  In the gospels, Jesus was continually inviting people to taste the kingdom of God by joining them in their homes for meals, and the Eucharist remains the church's "family meal" to this day. It seems there's something about thanking God over a delicious meal that gives us a glimpse into God's heart of hospitality!

Therefore, we're providing an opportunity for every Adventer to give thanks and join a family meal the weekend before the "official" Thanksgiving holiday.  We're also encouraging them to invite their friends and potential new members of Jesus' family.  Pray that a spirit of genuine love and thanksgiving would be present at each meal, and that God would draw the people he wants to participate in each one.  If you have a few moments, also pray for each host as they invite others to join their gathering: Emily Fitzrandolph in North Baker, Ken & Sarah Robertson in South Baker, Luke & Krista Towle in South Denver, and John & Sara Knippa in East Denver.

Spiritual Friendships:  Here at Advent, we put a lot of time and thought into our larger gatherings, and we hope that through them people truly encounter God and connect with one another.  However, we also hope that Worship, Missional Community events, and Discipleship Groups foster ongoing personal friendships where faith is strengthened, care is demonstrated, and Adventers encourage one another to keep returning to truths of the` gospel.  We thank God for the many friendships that Advent has fostered, but we want to continue to pray for more.  Ask God to make Advent a network of deep spiritual friendships, even as we live in the midst of a world where such sustained commitment is deeply lacking!
 

Ginny's Recovery:  Ginny Grogan fell last Saturday night after a night on the town (going to a theology lecture and eating ice cream!) and fractured her leg bone at her hip socket.  She now has a bit more metal in her leg, but we are happy to report she did not require a hip replacement.  She's now in a rehab center, and her long-term prognosis looks very good. Pray that this time of forced rest would be an unexpected blessing for Ginny's soul, and that God would heal her body so that she can continue to do the great work He has given her to do at MHCD, Hirschfeld Towers, and many other places around town!

Peruvian Adventures - An Update from Deacon Cindy

 To the Family at Church of the Advent:

First, to my family at Church of the Advent: I apologize for being such a slacker in communicating with you. I follow what is going on in Baker because of all of Father Ken’s faithful communication to the church and my bi-weekly call with Father Rob. However, I realize you do not know what is going on in my life.  I have been excited for many days about what God has let me participate in and an update is long overdue.

Many of you know that I was invited to work with a ministry here in Cajamarca, Peru called Villa Milagro.  To my great surprise, I was asked to interpret for short- term mission teams.  I have gone out to the ‘campo,' usually an hour or more drive, with short -term medical- mission teams. I have also interpreted for a team of dentists and one group of women who came to minister to the women in a church an hour from where I live and also with Wheels for the World.  In this blog, I will tell you about the trip to Celendin and save the rest for future posts.    Celendin is a 3 -hour drive from Banos del Inca (think suburban Cajamarca, sort of) where I live.  We spent two nights in a hotel there and drove to sites from this location.

The first night we arrived in Celendin there was a giant crowd in front of our hotel.  Some in our group thought they saw a fight and immediately concluded it was a protest.  Celendin is notorious for hating mining and is known as an unsafe location for miners because there are frequent anti-mining protests there.  Though I am not a miner, my husband, Brad is an executive with a mining company and we are often reminded to be cautious.  Traveling to Celendin is not considered cautious.

We were finally taken into the hotel through a back way to avoid the crowd that was easily numbered at 400 people. To our great relief we learned that the crowd outside was there to see the ‘stars’ of a Peruvian reality show called Combate.  It’s a crazy show with teams and romance (drama) and young women in swimsuits for all competitions.  It is a wildly popular show in Peru but who would have thought it would be in the outback of Peru?  It was our great fortune to be staying in the same hotel with these stars.  It turned out to be a highlight for a few of the male medical students that were with us.

Later, when I went to my hotel window and opened it, the crowd began to cheer and flash photos.  It was pretty funny.  However, it did not take them long to figure out I was not who they were waiting for.   However, when the Combate stars went to their windows the cheering was quite exuberant.

Our hotel was right on the Plaza de Armas, home of all official fiestas in every town in Peru.  It was just our fortune that in addition to Combate Stars, it was also the fiesta of San Martin.  This meant that the loudest music possible began at 10pm and lasted until 5 am, just an hour before we had to travel to our first village.  Needless to say we were all lacking a good nights sleep.  The devoted coffee drinkers among us, of which I am one, had to learn to make due with instant.

It was still dark at 4am when we began our journey, this was actually a good thing based on road conditions.  The road was a narrow dirt road that literally clung to the edge of a mountain on one side and plunged to a river far, far below on the other.  We had one show-down when we met a truck going in the opposite direction.  We celebrated our victory when the ex-Army Ranger among us convinced them it was safer for them to back-up than for us to do so.

Our 3 and ½ hour trip to Jose Chavez took 6 hours.  A breakfast of fruit and delicious banana bread had been prepared by the Villa Milagro cooks for us to eat on the way. We stopped to eat it at Villa Nueva: it would have been easy to miss that this was a pueblo.  After we ate we continued to Jose Chavez and saw all the people waiting to see a doctor.

The cooks and driver left Jose Chavez 1 and 1/2 hours before we did.  Imagine our surprise when we found the van that had left early was parked in the middle of the road at the pueblo of Villa Nueva, where we had earlier in the day eaten our breakfast.  The van had been stopped by a group of Ronderos, local vigilantes.  The Ronderos all wore matching vests with various patches sewn on them.  Each of them carried a 3 foot-long stick that is used to whip guilty parties with.  We were asked to stay in the van as we waited to see what would happen.  While we waited, those who knew of the worst things vigilantes in Peru had done began to tell their stories. (Women, this is like being at a baby shower and everyone starts to tell their labor and delivery horror stories). Indeed, Ronderos are known to have killed people they find guilty.  Needless to say, some among us were very uncomfortable, maybe even terrified. Finally, we prayed.

The Ronderos thought we were out trying to convince the locals that mining was a good thing.  The local pastor with us explained that we had come in the name of Jesus to help others. Finally, the pastor’s identification card information was recorded in their book and he was required to sign it, and we were then released.

I was truly at peace during that entire episode.  There has been a great deal of anti-mining demonstrations in this area: I won’t even try to report all of it here.  There was no reason for the Ronderos to suspect my connections, but had they been discovered it could have been dangerous for the group.  Truly, I feel safe here, but I believe it is because of your faithful prayers.  Thank you.  We live on the main road in Banos and everyone knows where we live. Without making this sound like it is more dangerous than it is, I am so grateful for your prayers.

God has been so good, growing me during this time.  I have some other things to tell you, but if I do it all in one blog I might lose you, so until the next posting my dear friends….

All Saints Day Meditation

Note:  All Saints Day is celebrated Nov. 1, the day after Halloween.  (Halloween = All Hallows Eve = All Saints Eve).  It's one of those places in the chuch calendar that rarely comes up on a Sunday, so we don't celebrate it at Church of the Advent.  But it's a time to remember that we are part of Christ's family of saints, the family of "holy ones," the family of those becoming like Christ. 

View fullsize

By Ken Robertson

We need saints.

But more than that, we need to want to be saints.  We need to long to be filled with love for God, love for others, justice, peace, purity, and courage.

But more than that, we need to realize that those of us who are in Christ are already saints, already set apart and defined as holy by the Father through the Son in the Holy Spirit.

And even more than that, we need to recognize that the Holy still exists at all: that all is not profane, and mundane, and lifeless, and decaying. We need to see that God's holiness is the central reality of existence, and that the original creation, and the new creation, were and will be shot through with divine life.

And in order to see that in a way that our minds can grasp, that we can touch, and handle, and imitate...

We need saints.

Self-Made?

 At every Missional Community Gathering, Church of the Advent looks at a piece of art and asks, “What does this have to say about following Christ?”  This reflection was written by our very own Gladys Drew, and is based on the sculpture “Self Made Man” by Bobbie Carlyle, which was featured at our July Missional Community Gathering.  Agree?  Disagree? Let us know by emailing us.  And see you at the MC Gathering in September!

“This sculpture makes me very sad. It has all the beauty of God’s greatest creation—mankind. But he looks downward toward his imprisonment, instead of up toward the heavens to his Maker, where his hope lies. He is intent on freeing himself from the mire which is so ancient, it is now hardened bronze. With his own strength and desire, he attacks the chisel with his passionate mallet, seeking to recreate himself as a free man. His muscles strain and bulge outward in his efforts. In his dissatisfaction, it is almost as if he were blindly trying to recreate himself into something magnificent and new.

 It makes me think of how unregenerate man, the unsaved soul, strains against knowing God. He tries to save himself with his own fleshly strength, denying that the Living God is a supernatural God who works by His Spirit and not by power or might.  The only one who can make a new man out of him is the Living God.  And the only one who can truly free him is the Living God.  This man will pridefully slave and labor to save himself, only to be disappointed with the results, which will never be perfect. He will look and see nothing lasting. He will find himself enslaved again and again until he surrenders to the Living God, seeing his own brokenness.”