Category: Blog

Can you imagine silent corporate worship? No music, no hymns, no sermon? For ten years, I taught at a Quaker school and attended weekly Meeting for Worship with middle school students who couldn’t stay still in their classroom seats, but managed to sit in silence for 45 minutes. The silence is what the Quakers call, “expectant waiting,” holding the possibility that the “still small voice of God” might prompt one of them to speak out loud.

The Great Commission given to the Disciples in Mark 16:15 did not require waiting, but action. Jesus told His followers in no uncertain terms that they were “ to go out into all the world and preach the gospel to all creation” (NIV). It was a tall order for uneducated fishermen! Jesus told them the miracles they would do in His name: cast out demons, speak in tongues, and heal the sick. The Book of Mark tells us the Lord was with the Disciples as they wandered and preached. Wow! What fervor they showed! The Acts of the Apostles speaks  of the many people they brought to salvation.

What happened to that passion for spreading the Gospel? Philemon 6 tells us to be active in sharing our faith, but how many of us actually DO IT?

In the 1500’s. Sister Teresa of Avila, a Spanish nun, penned these words:

Christ has no body but yours.

He has no hands, no feet on earth but yours.

Yours are the eyes through which He looks compassion on the world.

Yours are the feet with which He walks to do good.

Yours are the hands through which He blessed all the world. 

Yours are the hands, yours are the feet, yours are the eyes, you are His body. 

Christ has no body now on earth but yours.

The poem should give you pause. WE are the body of Christ in the world. WE are here to do His work. WE are ALL called to the Great Commission. Telling others about your faith can be frightening.

But also fulfilling. Luke 6:38 says, “Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over, wil be poured into your lap” (NIV).

Give, and you will get. Give more, and you will get more.

During my years teaching at a Quaker school, meetings for worship were conducted in mostly absolute silence. Once in a while, someone would be led by the Spirit to speak into the silence. We need not wait for a church service or a meeting. We can speak into the void, into the silence, anytime, anywhere.

Because we are not only the feet and hands of Christ, we are His voice.

I met Michael when we were in first grade. He was a shy kid; his parents were deaf and his house quiet. The percussion instruments we used in Music Class made him cry. Throughout our school years, Michael and I were friends and he introduced me to his world as the Child of Deaf Adults (CODA). Along with this introduction to a new culture came the gift of American Sign Language. While I never reached the proficiency level of Michael, I had fun learning a few signs so that he and I could “secretly communicate” across the crowded lunchroom. 

But Michael’s gift of ASL came to good use when my high school English teacher assigned each of us to present a poem, any poem, and “act it out” any way we wanted. Michael and I chose “The Lord’s Prayer” as our poem base and altered it to include the signs that were visual reminders of God’s grace and glory.

 

Our Father

We reach across our hearts, shoulder to shoulder, hands crossed as the fingers stretch out

In Heaven

Our palms on the earth God created, crossing and spreading upward

Hallowed be Thy Name

Joined fingers touching the palm, turning towards the sky, then coming humbly down to the blessed name 

 

Your Kingdom Come

The sash of royalty, shoulder to waist, we spread our hands over the earth, a crooked finger calling to God

Your Will be Done

A hand raised up, ready to receive, scurrying across the realm of God

On Earth

The first Creation, made for us, rotating on its form

As it is in Heaven

Two fingers out, circling up to God

Give us This Day

Crossing over the heart and rising up towards Heaven as the sun rises and sets

Our Daily Bread

We circle the cheek, a gift of manna to slice each day

And Forgive Us Our Sins

Erase our errors and mistakes with rounded motions

As We Forgive Those Who Have Sinned Against Us

We complete the circle of forgiveness, closing it

Save Us From a Time of Trial

The cross is broken, the time has ended, we struggle in sin no longer

Deliver Us From Evil

We reach up and pass it down to share, shoulder to shoulder,  avoiding the sharpness of sin

For the Kingdom

A reverent touch to the forehead, a bow to the sash of the King who rules over the firmament of all the earth

And the Power

Held within Your hands

And the Glory

The spendor above, floating away

Forever

We honor our God, and push towards Eternity

Amen

And close our hands in peace.

 

When the Roman soldier who stood facing Him saw how He died, he exclaimed, “This man truly was the Son of God!” (Mark 15:19, NLT)

 

It was not the Centurion’s first crucifixion. He’d seen many criminals put to death in the cruelest manner imaginable and he’d hardened his heart to it all: the screams, the blood, the curious onlookers. He was there to keep order, that was all. It was easy enough to do. Generally, only a handful of soldiers were needed to maintain peace and follow out the orders of the Emperor. A soldier’s life made one tough, not given to flights of the imagination. But as he watched the events of the day, he couldn’t help but realize that while he may have been at many crucifixions, this one was different.

Very different. 

He’d heard stories of this Galilean, some too incredible to believe, stories of healing and raising of the dead.  There was one the Centurion couldn’t get out of his mind, however, and it had to do with a fellow soldier, one who deeply respected the Jewish people and had even financed the construction of a synagogue (Luke 7:5). This soldier was not as hardened as some in the barracks; he had compassion on his fellow man, even a slave of his who was worth very little in the marketplace. The Centurion at the foot of the cross had heard the story from many sources, how the compassionate slave owner had himself approached the Galilean and asked Him to heal his slave. What’s more, he had demonstrated perfect confidence that Jesus could do so (Matthew 8:5-13). 

The Centurion looked up at the Man on the cross who was close to death. He was not like the murderers and rapists that were usually hung on the hill of Golgotha. He was just the son of a carpenter, a traveling preacher with a gentle voice. Unlike others who had suffered the torments of execution in the Roman style, this Man did not refile His captors, nor curse them. Instead, He spoke kindly to the thieves hanging on either side of Him, and even arranged for one of  His followers, John, to take His mother into his home and care for her (John 19: 25-26). He even forgave His tormentors for the pain they caused Him.

There were other things, too, the Centurion mused. He watched as the Galilean strained against the wooden cross, struggling to breathe. Death by crucifixion was a  long and drawn-out affair. The elderly and sick died within six hours, but a healthy young man might take as long as four days to succumb. Yes this Gailiean, in only three hours, was close to death. There would be no need to break his legs to hasten it.

Suddenly, the Centurion was aware that the Galilean was calling out: “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?” He recognized the Hebrew words: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” A learned man, he knew that this Galilean was quoting from Hebrew scriptures. He began to tremble and the sky around him grew dark as night. It stayed dark for three hours, throwing all those on the hill into panic. Astronomers knew that eclipses sometimes happened, but only lasted a few minutes!

And then the condemned man cried out one more time: “It is finished.” (Mark 15:37). The centurion began to tremble and the earth trembled with him.

“Truly,” shouted the soldier, “this man was the Son of God!”

The Power of the Cross had begun. 

Luke 10:27. He answered, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and love your neighbor as yourself.”

The other day, my BFF Chris and I were bemoaning the fact that neighborhoods aren’t what they used to be. Used to be, we said,  that neighbors helped each other out. You know, the guy with the snowblower did everyone’s driveway without expecting more than a “Thanks” and you could borrow a long ladder from the fellow down the block to clean out your gutters without having to go on Takl and place a bid.  You knew your neighbors would watch your house while you were  on vacation and send a kid over to collect your mail. And if someone in your family was sick or in the hospital, your neighbors would provide you with casseroles and homemade brownies. 

As an older widow woman with an autistic son, I could sure use some neighbors like that.

But my conversation with Chris got me thinking. What happened to the day of the friendly and helpful neighbor? Linda Poon (2015) writing for the website CityLab, reports that a full third of Americans do not know the names of their neighbors. Yet only five decades ago–you know, those prehistoric days when the Flintstones and the Rubbles were spending every waking moment together–people interacted with their neighbors at least twice a week. It’s true our hectic schedules–what Mac Dunkelman (The Vanishing Neighbor, 2014) calls “limited social capital”– allow us less time for this sort of camaraderie, but is there more to it than that? And, more importantly, can we change it?

The Story of the Good Samaritan in Luke 10:25-37 is often told in Sunday Schools; we want our children to applaud the acts of the stranger in stopping to provide succor to the man beaten and left for dead. We tell the kiddos that the Samaritans were pretty much despised by the Jewish people without going into detail. To get an idea of how far the loathing went, think Severus Snape in the Harry Potter books. How ironic, then, that the Samaritan–like Snape who was trying to protect Harry all along–turns out to be the hero.

But if that’s all we see–the grumpy old Mr. Wilson coming to rescue Dennis Mitchell–we’re missing the point. According to Marilyn Salmon, a Professor of New Testament Studies at the United Theological Seminary, we need to look at the story from the perspective of the robbed and beaten man, lying broken on the side of the road. He didn’t care who offered him help. Priest, Levite, Samaritan. Heck, even Severus Snape would do.

And rather than casting ourselves in the role of the hero, let’s realize that we ARE broken people, in desperate need of a hero to save us. And that hero is–ta da!–Jesus the Christ, who serves as an example of the most neighborly of neighbors. 

Remember the Samaritan left the injured man at the Inn and gave the Innkeeper two silver coins as a down payment on the man’s care? While experts are a bit hazy on the exact amount, the two silver coins would have bought at least two weeks room and board! Getting involved is costly. Just look at the price that Jesus paid. So if we can put ourselves in the place of the wounded and beaten stranger, we realize that we need to look not at the “otherness” like race, religion, and culture of those around us but the humanness. We’re all broken. Every single one. 

It is a young lawyer who asks Jesus, “What must I do to receive eternal life?” The irony here is that the fellow already knows the answer. But Jesus recites Deuteronomy 6:5, the “great commandment”, not to embarrass the man but to make a point or two: the way in which we walk with God and connect with others in our lives cannot be separated.

So instead of complaining about the good old days and wishing someone with a ladder would just show up and offer to clean out my gutters, I have decided to take a cue from Jesus and be as neighborly as possible, and that means being open to what their needs might be. When the lady next door told me it was hot in her house because she couldn’t carry her room air conditioner up from the basement, I grabbed my tall son and we headed over with a screwdriver. It wasn’t two pieces of silver but it was what broken people could do.

It’s what I would want someone to do for me. 

We were therefore buried with him in baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead to the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life. Romans 6:3

 

RAIN FALLS ON US ALL

 

It was raining, big fat drops that overflowed the culvert out in front of our beach house.

“No beach today,” I said to my brother. We’d dashed across the puddles to our grandmother’s house and now stood watching the rain ruin our summer plans. 

Grandma sat in her chair, rocking in rhythm to the rain. “It’ll cool things off,” she said. “It’s been real hot and the crops need some refreshing. God’s providing it.”

“But I wanted to build a sandcastle and jump the waves,” my brother complained.

“And I wanted to wear my new bathing suit!” I said.

Grandma put down her knitting. “You can still wear your bathing suits. The same water that’s falling outside is the same water that makes up the ocean.”

We were skeptical. “Mom won’t let us,” said my brother.

Grandma smiled. “I’ll talk to her. Why wouldn’t she want you to dance in the same water that baptized Jesus? Go get your suits on!”

MIRACLES ON THE JORDAN 

God in his perfect creation of the world made possible the wondrous water cycle that keeps replenishing our world with water both fresh and salty. It’s the same water that’s been here since creation, the same water that Jesus drank and maybe, just maybe, the same water that flowed in the Jordan River. Since rain is rare in the Jordan Valley, the river is needed to sustain life.

But the Jordan is also the scene of many miracles in the Scriptures. In 1405 BC, Joshua led the Israelites across the Jordan, the last obstacle on the forty year journey,  bringing the ark to the land promised to them by God (Joshua 3). A few years later, Elijah crossed over the water and ascended into Heaven, leaving Elisha to take up the mantle (2 Kings 2). King Naaman was healed of leprosy by bathing in the Jordan (2 Kings 5). And it was at the Jordan River that John the Baptist began his ministry (Matthew 3:5) . It is no coincidence that Jesus chose to be baptized in the place that had always represented transitions. He even met his disciples there after His resurrection!

You see, the Jordan runs for 156 miles and feeds into the Sea of Galilee. But it doesn’t end there. It also flows through the Sea of Galilee–a source of food– and into the Dead Sea–named because there is no life in it and it lies at the lowest point of the world. That cannot be happenstance, but divine design. 

THE NICENE CREED

The Nicene Creed recited in the Methodist Church says, “we recognize one baptism for the forgiveness of sins”, but nowhere does it command that we cannot continue to remember and celebrate the new life we have in Christ, not living in the Dead Sea but in the living water of the Sea of Galilee. The water of seas, oceans, and our own baptism perform another series of miracles in the world and in us: it smooths out the rough places, provides refreshment and cleansing, gives life, and allows the world a chance to renew (Matthew 5:45).

“Remember your baptism and be thankful” can be part of not just a baptismal service, but our everyday life as we bathe, swim, drink, and cook using the life-giving water God has provided.

DANCING IN THE RAIN

We can also, as my brother and I did on the rained-out beach day, dance in the rain. My grandmother convinced my mother that it would be perfectly alright for us to dash through the rain and splash in the puddles, enjoying the cooling water and getting our bare feet very muddy. As Vivian Greene once said, “Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass, but about dancing in the rain.” 

Next time it rains, take the opportunity to “remember your baptism” and enjoy the refreshing rain. Go out and dance! It’s quite possible you might be dancing in water from the Jordan River!

 

So in Christ Jesus you are all Children of God through faith, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourself with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. (Galatians 3:23-28)

 

LIMITED CHOICES

 

The option boxes on the income tax form were limited: single or married. I took a moment to consider. Even though my husband had passed away six months ago, I still considered myself to be married. Forty-four years of a relationship is not easily erased. I twisted the ring I  wore on my left hand a few times. The term “Widow!” was still new to me. It often seemed as if the word was written on a dark cloud that continually lurked around every corner, reminding me that my own identity had shifted when Ron had taken his last breath. Tears smarted at my eyes as I checked the box for “single”, knowing that even if this was my legal status, it did not define me.

It was just a label.

LABELS

We find labels useful for organzing and categorizing; they can be a necessary evil, but these designations in no way measure who we really are. Galatians 2:20 reminds us that if we are crucified with Christ, we still live in our mortal bodies but we are living by faith

 It was a lesson that the Galatians in the early days of Christianity had a hard time learning. As part of the Roman Empire, those Jews living in Galatia lived under many rules and restrictions and they resented the inclusion of the Gentiles in Christ’s salvation plan, completely forgetting the words of the prophet Isaiah that, “I will make also to you a light for the Gentiles, that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth” (Isaiah 49:6). 

While the Galatians maintained they believed in salvation through faith, they were pretty wishy-washy about it, easily swayed by a sect of Judaizers who insisted that the newly converted Gentiles adher to the Mosaic law, including circumcision. During the Apostle Paul’s first trip to Galatia, he was “astonished” that the members of the church had so quickly abandoned their identity with Christ and added to the salvation message (Galatians 1:6-9). 

CHEAP GRACE 

It’s what Deitrich Bonhoeffer called “cheap grace” back in 1937. It is, in short, forgiveness without repentance, baptism, or discipline. If you recall your high school literature class, think about “The Pardoner’s Tale” in Geoffrey Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales who forgave siins for a price, no repentance needed! “Cheap grace” for sale!

We live in an age in which conflicts often arise over identities associated with ethnicity, culture, race, talent, money, intellectual ability, and a host of other labels–even widowhood–that often place us in the world similar to S.E. Hinton’s novel, The Outsiders. Don’t recall this 1983 novel about the rivalry between the “greasers” and the “socs”? How about West Side Story and the Jets versus the Sharks? Same song, different verse. 

THE BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE

 I think Jesus Himself knew a thing or two about being ousted from the popular lunch table. We need only to look at those He chose as his close companions—several common fishermen, a Zealot, a tax collector, and a thief—to know that Jesus was not hanging out with the Beautiful People. As He left Earth for Heaven, He desired for there to be unity among the believers.

So what’s the problem? Why do we continue to allow labels to separate us from the unity God designed for us? If we are all His children–and, trust me on this, we are–then what’s the big deal. None of us earned our salvation, even those poor fools who gave money to the Pardoner.

It was given to us. Freely. We need to take a closer look at Romans 15:7, “Accept one another, then, just as Christ accepted you, in order to bring praise to God.” And he doesn’t care if you’re a “greaser” or a “soc”, a “Jet” or a “Shark.”

NECESSITY

Occassionally, labels are needed. The IRS needs to know my “label” for tax purposes. The school district needed to know my autistic son’s “label” to provide him with the needed services. But the labels do not define us anymore than our names. Just ask the parents of Juliet Capulet and Romeo Montague. Okay, enough references to high school literature. 

So, yes, I checked the box for “single.” I was not happy about it, but it was, after all, just a label. It did nothing to erase either my long marriage to Ron. More importantly. It did nothing to affect my relationship with God.

It was just a box.

 

So now you Gentiles are no longer strangers and foreigners. You are citizens along with God’s holy people. You are members of God’s family. (Ephesians 2:19)

 

“I passed!” said Natnael as he burst into the doorway of my classroom. “Dr. Cobourn, I passed! I am going to be a citizen of the United States of America!” To emphasize his point, he saluted the small American flag that hung above my blackboard.

Natnael and his father had emigrated to the United States three years ago and learning to adjust to a new culture and a new language had not been easy for either of them. For the last two years, Natnael had continually expressed a desire to return to Ethiopia. That had changed last Fall when Mr. Fatan had been offered employment at a University that would guarantee his son a college education. It was, as Mr. Fatan said, an offer he could not refuse.

Natnael was determined to fit into college. Thus, we began to prepare for the U.S. Citizenship test. There is both a civics and an English component to the test. It was the need to respond to ten questions, orally and in English, that terrified my student.

How different is the entrance exam to become a citizen of Heaven! It does not matter what language we speak; we need to answer no civics questions; we can still retain our earthly citizenship. We do not even need to meet with an official who will stamp our papers with a seal and allow us access.

All that is needed is our belief. 

The Gentiles Paul refers to in the Book of Ephesians previously had no privileges in the young Christian Church. They were unknown, spiritually dead, and not part of the chosen nation of Israel. They might live in the holy city of Jerusalem, but they were still strangers, goyim who had not been descended from Jacob. And in the Roman Empire, citizenship was important; many rights came with citizenship. Paul reminded the Gentiles that they had been “separated from Messiah, alienated from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers to the covenant of promise, having no hope and without God in the world” (Ephesians 2:11-12).

Gee, how depressing can it get? God had provided a path for the nation of Israel to get to God, but the other nations were left out in the cold.

But Paul made it clear that Jesus had not come explicitly to the Jewish people, but to ALL people. Ephesians 2:13 tells us “we have been brought near by the blood of Messiah” and our “citizenship is in Heaven” (Philippians 3:21).

We may live on earth, but we are already citizens of Heaven!

91% of those born in foreign countries pass the test to become U.S. Citizens, just as Natnael did. He took his responsibilities as a new citizen very seriously. It was his desire, he told me, to be a credit to the country that had welcomed him and his father. Once his own citizenship papers were stamped, Natnael took it upon himself to work with other Ethiopian immigrants and help them to become citizens.  

The heavy price of our own citizenship in heaven was paid by Jesus, but that does not mean we do not have responsibilities to the nation in which we currently live. Quite the contrary. As dual citizens of both Heaven and America, we should:

• Be people of hope
• Obey scripture
• Follow God, not the world
• Pray for our leaders
• Be obedient to God
• Become the voices of truth

Natnael and  his father left for Mr. Fatan’s new position before the end of the school year, but Natnael came to see me before he left, carrying a red American Beauty rose and a small American flag because, “I wouldn’t have become a citizen without you.”

And none of us would be citizens of Heaven without Jesus.

For to us a Child is born, a Son is given, and the government will be on His shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. (Isaiah 9:6)

 

A King for America

 

“A King! A King!” the people shouted. “We need a king to rule over us!” 

Anyone who has spent a semester in a high school American History class realizes that the time following the American Revolution was full of dissatisfaction and upheaval. After the peace treaties had been signed with the British in 1783 and the Thirteen Colonies were free of British rule, a rumor began to circulate: make George Washington, brave leader of the Revolution, the King of America. Washington, who had given his all to his country, had no desire to be king. 

He refused the Kingship.

It’s a nice story, but none of it is true. It began as a myth when Lewis Nicola proposed the formation of a new country–with a king–in the western part of the continent. It IS true that Nathaniel Gorham, President of the Continental Congress, wrote a letter to Prince Henry of Prussia in 1786, offering him the Kingship of America. The government Gorham had in mind was to be closely modeled after the monarchy in England that the fledgling country of America had fought so hard to escape. 

Wisely, Prince Henry refused and sent this message across the ocean: “The Americans have shown so much determination against their old king that they would not easily submit to a new one.” With this refusal, the delegates rallied themselves, drafted the Constitution of the United States of America, and begged George Washington to take the office of President.

But old habits die hard or, as my grandmother used to say, “Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.” Alexander Hamilton—yes, THAT Hamilton–argued that the office of President should be for a lifetime. John Adams suggested that the President be referred to as “your Majesty.” Washington, longing to retire to Mount Vernon and almost blind, had no desire for absolute power but was concerned that his fellow countrymen could so easily desire a monarch. He set the precedent for a two-term President. 

Because, as Lord Acton of England once said, “Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

 

A King for Israel

“A King! A King!” the people shouted. “We need a king to rule over us!”

Israel, with their sovereign God, still wanted to be like all the other countries and have a King to lead them. They demanded that Samuel, the aged prophet, find a King. Samuel took this request to God, who told Samuel, “Listen to all the people are saying. It is not you they have rejected, but they have rejected me as their King. As they have done from the day I brought them out of Egypt until this day, forsaking me and serving other gods” (I Samuel 8:7-8).

God further told Samuel to “warn the people that a king will rule over them and claim his rights” (1 Samuel 8:9). He went on to list all the demands a king would make on the people, demands that would cost them their sons, their women, their crops, their grain, and their freedom.

So Saul–yes, THAT Sault–became the first King of Israel. He repeatedly disobeyed God and let his jealousy of the young David drive him into madness.

So much for earthly kings.

 

A King for All

But not the King, the Prince of Peace, that was promised in Isaiah and born as Jesus. Unlike Presidents and Kings who do not listen to God’s commands but allow their absolute power to corrupt, Jesus is the perfect King, fulfilling all the promises given by the prophets and, not by coincidence, all the characteristics set forth in the Constitution of the United States of America.

1. To form a more perfect union.

Jesus makes no distinctions for race, ethnicities, class, or gender. Our Everlasting Father  is for all people, for all time, giving us all equal access to God and loving all His children (Colossians 3:28).

• To establish justice and domestic tranquility. 

The sacrifice of Jesus covers all of our sins and prevents us from seeking revenge on those who have wronged us (Romans 12:19). We can trust Jesus, Wonderful Counselor, to implement justice when needed.

1. To promote the general welfare and secure the blessings of liberty for ourselves and our prosterity. 

Our Constitution provides us with the promise of “the common good”, the right to make our own choices but to do so in a way that benefits all.  Jesus, our Mighty God, has the power to not only give us what we need for an earthly existence, but work all things together for His glory (Romans 8:28).

1. To provide for the common defense.

The Prince of Peace is authority over all forces, physical and spiritual (Matthew 28:18). Even His enemies are used to accomplish His purposes (Revelation 17:17). 

The Founding Fathers envisioned a new country, free of tyrannical rule and discrimination, a country where everyone was able to live at peace and prosper. We may have fallen short of the ideal they upheld, but true freedom comes from Jesus as we live in His kingdom (Colossians 1:13).

 

Let Freedom Ring!

 

References: 

Jesus the Perfect King | Desiring God Community Church (desiringgodchurch.org)

Lessons of the Time America’s Founders Tried to Draft a King | Time

Why Did Israel Want an Earthly King When They Had God? (christianity.com)

“Undoubtedly there are all sorts of languages in the world, yet none of them is without meaning.  If then I do not grasp the meaning of what someone is saying, I am a foreigner to the speaker, and the speaker is a foreigner to me.” I Corinthians 14:1-12

 

A NEW LANGUAGE

Angela stood at the doorway to my small classroom, her face hidden by her long hair. “I…come here now?” she asked softly, holding up her schedule.

I looked up from the students who had gathered at the round table to review chemistry vocabulary. “Why, yes. Welcome, Angela. We’re happy you’ve joined our school and our class!”

Shyly, Angela walked into the room. Rather than sit with  the six other English as a Second Language  students at the table, she chose a seat as far away as possible and busied herself with reading a textbook  I was sure she could not understand. I’d read Angela’s transfer scripts yesterday; she and her mother had been in the United States only two months and she’d had no English instruction.

Once the group at the table were busy with their vocabulary cards, I walked over to Angela and sat next to her. 

“¿Cómo estás hoy, Ángela? ¿Qué estás leyendo?” I was by no means fluent in Spanish, but it always helped new students if I made an effort to speak their home language. Otherwise, my words would mean nothing to them. I asked Angela what she was working on and our tutoring session began.

MANY GIFTS

I often think of the changes Pentecost brought to the lives of the early believers, when the Holy Spirit descended upon them and distributed His gifts. Before Jesus returned to Heaven, He told his followers to remain in Jerusalem to wait for “the Comforter.” Some believers were given the ability to speak a foreign language, previously unknown to them, so that others could hear the salvation message in their home tongue. Imagine how amazed those foreign born people must have been to hear familiar vocal sounds! Because many people passed along the five roads that led into Jerusalem, it was not uncommon for visitors from other lands to be within its borders. 

Most Israelites were, in fact, able to speak more than one language. While  Biblical scholars believe Jesus and His disciples spoke primarily in Aramaic, they probably also spoke Hebrew and Greek. 

There is no doubt, the gift of tongues is impressive. Often, when the students in my room are chattering away in Spanish, French, Loma, or Chinese, I sorely wish I knew more than just a few basic sentences! I need to remind myself that my gift is one of teaching. I need to make my message clear to them.

In I Corinthians 14:5, Paul says, “ I would like every one of you to speak in tongues,  but I would rather have you prophesy. The one who prophesies is greater than the one who speaks in tongues,  unless someone interprets, so that the church may be edified.” 1 Corinthians 13:1 makes it clear that we should be more concerned with loving those we are with than impressing them with our lofty words! 

A CLEAR MESSAGE

In my work with Angela, whose education in Honduras had provided her with only a few of the academic subjects she required  to graduate high school in the United States, I needed to make sure she understood my instruction. Wiith my halting Spanish, Google translate, and other Spanish-speaking students in the classroom, Angela soon became accustomed to working with the group. 

 I struggled along in Spanish, saying, “Ángela, trabajemos en la tarea de sociología. Está previsto para el jueves.”

She responded in halting English, “No, Senora Linda. Sociology is not on Thursday, but Monday.”

By the second year Angela took English as a Second Language, she stopped hiding behind her long, dark hair and joined the other girls in giggling and laughing. She needed to depend on her Google translate app less and less. 

She could understand the message.

This past June, Angela graduated high school with a scholarship to the Busca  program at LaSalle University.I clapped loudly and couldn’t wait to greet her and her mother after the ceremony.

“Tú eres la que mi hija entendió, “said Mrs.Perez. 

I gave Angela a hug. “I think Angela and I came to understand each other,” I said.

The Holy Spirit imparts His gifts to each of us.Some may speak in tongues, others may evangelize, or serve, or teach. The important thing is not the gift itself, but the clarity of the message we bring.

Deja claro el mensaje. Make the message clear. 

Neither height nor depth nor anything in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:39)

 

FISHING POLES

“Get up!” Dad said and gently touched my shoulder. “Let’s go wet a line!”

I groaned and pulled my pillow over my head. “We never catch any fish,” I muttered. “We just stand there on the shore and the waves take our bait. “ I yawned.

“Catching fish is really not the point,” said my father. “Come on, your brother’s already loading the fishing poles.”

“That’s another thing, “ I said. “I don’t even have my own fishing pole. Harvey has one and I should have one, too. It isn’t fair that I have to just watch!”

“Harvey is older than you,” Dad said. “But there’s a pole in the shed you can use. Come on. Get dressed and I’ll get you your own pole.”

Reluctantly, I pushed myself up and out of bed, grabbing the shorts and shirt I’d worn yesterday. Hastily, I pulled on my clothing and  ran a brush through my long hair, tying  it back into a ponytail. I tiptoed past my parent’s room, where Mom was still sleeping.

“Lucky her,” I thought as I joined my father and my brother outside. The sky was still dark at this early hour. When Dad pulled up to the ocean a few minutes later, we were the only ones on the beach. We carried our poles and buckets and beach chairs down to the water’s edge. Harvey and Dad both had long, blue fiberglass fishing poles with spinning  reels designed for the ocean.

Mine was a short wooden rod with chipped red paint and a rusted reel. No way would my seven year old arms be able to cast the line past the breakers and into the ocean with that!

I’d never catch a fish.

It was unfair, I thought as I baited my hook. Just because I was the youngest!

TWO BROTHERS

The Gospel of Luke tells the story of another set of siblings, two brothers who lived with their father on a large estate. The older son did his father’s bidding without hesitation, confident that according to the Mosaic law of the time, he would receive two-thirds of his dad’s possessions as his inheritance. The younger son, however, no matter how hard he worked, would only ever receive one-third. It was the way things were. There was nothing he could do about it. He would always have the short fishing pole.

The parable of Jesus doesn’t tell us what prompted the younger son to defy tradition and express his displeasure  blatantly, but as someone who has spent a lifetime as the younger sibling, I can imagine always feeling bested by the first-born. Let’s face it, even if I got all A’s on my report card, chances were my brother had already done the same thing.

Luke 15:12 tells us that the younger son went to his father and demanded his share of what he would inherit. We don’t know why the father agreed, but we do know that in effect the youngest son was showing tremendous disrespect for his father. In modern terms, he was saying, “I wish you were dead!” Then he took off for foreign lands, recklessly spent all the money (which is what made him a prodigal), and found himself in a terrible situation with no food and no coins. He hung his head in shame and went back home, begging to be a servant in his father’s house. We might again be astounded at the reaction of the father, who not only ran out to meet the returning son–a most unseemly act for a man of his position!–but welcomed him back not as a servant, but as his son.

WHICH SON ARE YOU?

The story could end there. Most of us have, at one time or another, been the youngest son, letting our sin nature and our fleshly desires tell us to do what we wanted, not what we were told. Trust me on this: I’ve lived through three teenagers. But the parable continues to tell us the reactions of the older son.

Maybe for the first time in his life, the older son wasn’t the obedient soul he’d always been. He complained loudly to his father, saying, “Look, I’ve been slaving away for you all these years, doing everything you say, and you never even let me have a party with my friends! Now the kid comes back and all’s forgiven! It’s not fair!”

Let’s face it, we’ve been the older son as well, feeling short-changed for our efforts. We think our obedience will gain us reward, but we’ve got it wrong. The oldest son is, like many of us, looking for our obedience to gain us acceptance.

But that’s a transaction; that’s not love.

NOT ABOUT THE FISH

I stood on the beach with my short fishing pole, letting the surf surround my feet and sink them into the soft sand.  I still grumbled a bit, but when I saw my older brother use all his might to cast the line from his wonderful blue fiberglass fishing pole into the ocean and still have it return on the next wave, I realized I would not have been ready for the longer pole. 

I contented myself with catching a few sand crabs and occasionally held onto my dad’s pole with his hands guiding me. None of us caught anything.

But that’s alright. As my father had said, it wasn’t really about catching fish. It was about standing there at the ocean’s edge with the two guys I loved the most, watching the sun rise over the Atlantic Ocean and knowing that even if I didn’t get all A’s on my report card and would always be the youngest child, my father’s love did not depend on any transaction.

And neither does God the Father’s.