O Me of Little Faith

People – good, well-meaning, faithful people, people of all colors and stripes and flavors – cannot go through the course of their lives and NOT have experiences that lead them to ask the hard questions of God. Questions that get birthed in moments of trial and tragedy, or in the midst of fear and trauma that call God into question and even demand an answer are all part and parcel to one thing that all people have in common: We’re human. Being human means that we will all at times in the course of our lives want to grab God by the lapels of God’s robes and shake out answers that will enable us to get past whatever we are dealing with at the moment. Can anyone say, "Job"?

But as much as that is true, it is equally true that often we are stopped short in the middle of the journey before the questions that God asks us. Again, Can you say, "Job"? Ultimately that is part of what it means to be human, too, isn't it? If God is God, to stand in the stillness of mis-understanding and confusion, and listen. "Where...were...you...when...I, God...made...everything?" Frankly, I can't stand it when God pulls that card, God's ace in the hole.

One of those questions I've been pondering this week that came from the lips of the Lord himself is this: "Why do you call me 'Lord, Lord' and do not do what I say?" (Luke 6:46). Who does Jesus think he is? Relationships in a post-modern world aren't built for such bold assertions, such brazen claims and judgments about right living. We are far too...what? Maybe you can say it to yourself better than I can write it.

The question Jesus asks is really messing me over. I know it is getting at something that will interrupt my established and comfortable patterns of behavior. Maybe if I just let it pass, don't try to answer it, or look too closely at what it may be tinkering with in my soul, I can skirt around it without enduring the wounds dealing with it will inevitably open up. And I know that wounds will open up, some old and some new. I know this because of what Jesus taught, in this case, just before he asks this blasted question.

How does this grab you, tiger? (I hear that in my dad's voice, BTW) "Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray..." Okay, that's enough! Son of a...gun!

Try this: "Don't judge, and you will not be judged. Don't condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive...Give..." Cerrraap!

More reality, that I deny to be real: "No good tree bears bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit. Each tree is recognized by its own fruit." If you only knew! Man! If you only knew.

You know, I stand before this question, "Why do you call me Lord, Lord, and do not do what I say?" and blatantly say in response, "Look, I like my life fine, Lord, thank you very much!" But I am really trying not to be fooled. I like my secure life and secure way of being in the world, but facing up to Jesus' word reminds me that it isn't secure at all. It's just that I don't want to take the risks involved in doing it differently, by which I mean, doing it the way Jesus says. It requires too much. What's that really outdated and outmoded word? It requires too much...Submission. Yep. That's it.

I take some measure of comfort, though. This question, which has a very clear and obvious response even though we deny it for ourselves, comes with a promise; a promise from someone who knows what he's talking about and who has the authority to fulfill it, having died on a cross and conquored the grave: That if we respond appropriately to the question, we'll find the solid ground we seek. O me of little faith.

The Gospel According to Levi’s

by Jenni Fairbanks

I always heard as a child that it was important to dress in our Sunday best for church because Holy God deserves our very best…even in the clothes we choose to wear to worship. As a young tomboy the only time I would be caught in a dress was either because it was Sunday morning or because it was picture day at school. I knew my grandmother would complain if I didn’t wear a dress.

My mother was raised on a farm in Spur, Texas, and on the farm denim was the dress code of convenience and affordability. Her opportunities to wear anything but denim were very much coveted, so she did not understand when her two daughters wanted to wear only denim. It was a new era and complete shift in the cultural norm for her.

Jeans are my favorite. Always have been. Always will be. Jeans can be dressed down after a long day of work or dressed up for a night out on the town with friends. And, oh how finding the perfect pair is bliss!

My husband and I met at a really great church in Dallas several years ago. We worshiped on Sunday nights, and the space was filled with dimmed lights, candles, old cushy couches, and fantastic art created by many of the congregants. The setting made me feel an incredible sense of comfort on many levels and helped me to posture myself to receive God’s love and peace in a way I had never encountered before. And, we wore jeans.

Every Sunday, I looked forward to sharing worship with our church and having the opportunity to let the intensity of my life go for a period…and my clothes helped my mental mind do just that. I worked as a hospital chaplain throughout the week, and my work was intense. I was a professional in a professional setting wearing professional clothes and being pastor. Sunday evening was my turn to be “pastored.” I could come to church and sit, engage, worship and encounter Holy God, and my jeans were an expression of worship. I wanted and needed to be authentic in the presence of God.

Jesus models for us what it means to love our neighbor as ourselves and to value all people no matter what circumstances encircle them. Propriety and conformity rarely describe the ministry of Jesus. As the fullness of life wraps all of us in many joys and pains, space for authenticity is essential. God calls us to be ourselves fully and to love and share peace together with one another.

Now my current place of worship may not include dim lights, an array of pillar candles, comfy old couches and such, but I carry with me that sacred worship revelation. So, I wear my jeans. I don’t intend to be offensive to anyone. I am not seeking to be disrespectful in any way. I am simply doing my best to be authentic in the presence of Holy God…and my favorite pair of jeans helps me do just that.