Peace when under fire

Peace--vertical and horizontal. So often I have thought of peace as merely peace within myself, peace with myself, peace in me. While that peace is important and essential to being open to God's grace, it is a very narrow view of the peace God can and will give us. Peace vertically--being at peace with what God does and does not do in my life, peace with His plan for my life. Peace with God. Peace in my heart, peace that assures me He is in control, that He has me in His hand and his plan is perfect.

Horizontal peace, peace with others, with our situation, with the world, can only emanate frm my heart if I am at peace with my God; if I do not trust Him to provide and lead me and clear any obstacles, I will not have peace with the world around me. If I am worried and anxious about anything in my life, I must surrender to the peace I have with my creator to experience "peace that surpasses all understanding," a peace that calms my soul and tells me God has a plan. Now does that mean I never worry? That I never get upset? Heck no! I am human, I have doubts, I foolishly think I can control my life better than the One who gave me life.  I go to His word and rely on the promises in the Bible. Many who profess to be Christians do not yet possess that peace--they continue to depend on the world for solutions.

Election results, inflation, sickness, war, natural disasters, marital strife. I see it on the news, on social media, and in person every single day. One friend is terrified of what the current administration will mean for the safety of her childen's futures. Another friend is frantic about what the immigration crisis and newly formed policies mean for her family in Houston. Still others post memes celebrating their apparent victory in the past election, lauding the newly elected president as the solution to all the country's problems, while the opposite predicts all is lost and claims half the country are evil. Friends in India have familty members in northern India affected by ethnic wars and poverty. The ongoing strife in Gaza and Israel, the war in Ukraine, human trafficking in Asia and the US, genocide in Africa, childhood cancer, global unrest, starvation--the list is endless. All of these are evidence of a broken world, a fallen human race that rejected God in the garden, and nothing will fix it until Christ returns as He promised.

Yes, I too am affected by the brokenness of our world, by unfairness and strife and sickenss. I grieve the loss of my parents, the estrangement of my siblings and stepdaughter, the mental and physical burden of caring for my brother and the apparent lack of resources. But I continue to return to that peace, that wonderful peace that washes my worries away. I am sad for those friends of mine who do not possess this precious peace becaue they choose to reject God; they worry and fret and are frightened and angry at the things in the world, and they are incredulous at my lack of concern. I pray constantly for them to receive and accept Jesus and to receive the wonderful FREE gift (I know, that is redundant...a gift is free by definiton) of God's grace.  

Peace. Breathe. Peace. Rest. Peace. Trust. 

“Be still, and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!” (Psalm 46:10 ESV)

Election Day

Election Day. A day I used to look forward to, excited to cast my vote as an American citizen, taking advantage of a rare and wonderful privilege: to be part of the process in choosing our country’s judicial, legislative, and executive leadership. Not just at the federal level, no, but at every level, down to the smallest county seat and school board. In previous elections I’d spend hours gathering ballot and platform information to make informed decisions about nominees and proposals. I would attend rallies, talk to friends, watch debates and programs, and of course pray. If i supported a candidate, I’d put a sign in the yard or a bumper sticker on my car. I may even have worn a campaign button. My parents and I would talk about issues, but no one ever got too upset or slammed anyone who had a different point of view. And we respected others’ opinions, and knew to never bring up money, politics, or religion in polite conversation. 

Now I dread Election Day,and all the days leading up to it. I used to think the NBA had the longest season. Or that Christmas started obscenely earlier than it should. But since 2012, election mania has pervasively infected every aspect of our daily lives far too prematurely, sometimes as early as two years before the expiration of the incumbent’s term  honestly, since 2016, I believe it has been nonstop. I’ve stopped watching the nightly national news, something I used to enjoy, because it is anything but news. I cringe when I overhear political comments as they are often laced with vitriol and untruths, and I sadly watch as our country has been torn in two, whether it is on social media, in a sports bar, in church, or at a restaurant. People are now labeled and judged solely based on who they vote for, as if that parameter describes every facet of a human being. The titles of respect for those in office, from a city mayor to our country’s President, are no longer seen as relevant. Or elected officials are called by their last name or worse yet, called derisive names as if we were in a school playground.  Nominees are dehumanized so thoroughly through media—YouTube, FaceBook, the major news outlets, their opponents—it has become commonplace to call them names, draw disgusting cartoons, or even attempt assassinations. And now, anyone who supports these nominees are of course seen as less than human as well. Oh how Screwtape must gloat!

I love my country. I love America. I respect the office of every elected official, but especially that of the President of the United States. How could I not? I am a veteran and the President is the military commander in chief. Democrat or Republican. But more importantly, I am Christian, and scripture instructs me to do so. Yes  I voted Republican, all the way. I voted for former President Trump. Not because I think he is perfect, not because I think Vice president Harris is evil or stupid, but because of my beliefs.  In four years we do it all over again. And again after that. But Jesus will always be the King. Whether you vote for Him or not.

“Let everyone be subject to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established. The authorities that exist have been established by God.” (Roman’s 13:1)

On Afghanistan

I have been trying really, really hard to not get sucked into the secular drama that is out in the world on FaceBook, news reports, and other social media chatter; my focus needs to be on God and the image of Christ that I portray to the world, and most of the arguments and issues being debated (that is a really kind word for the vitriol I see and hear on a daily basis) are issues  that are never going to be resolved to everyone’s satisfaction--this is nothing new.The reason I try to NOT get embroiled in these debates and echo chambers is simple: they do not personally and directly affect me and my quality of life, and more importantly, they have no bearing on my salvation, so I normally stay out of the fray and refuse to enlist in the tribal mentality so prevalent in today’s society. 

But, something recently truly struck a nerve, causing me sleepless nights, not a few tears, and a sense of helplessness: the bungled withdrawal of the troops from Afghanistan, and the deafening silence that ensued when military and political leaders were questioned. No real news coverage, no investigation, no Congressional inquiry, and no publicized outcry demanding accountability—other than some videos and posts on social media channels, and those were quickly relegated to a trash basket of “disgruntled military and veterans.” Had this happened on President Trump’s watch, mainstream media, his political opponents, FaceBook, Twitter, and other social media giants would be screaming for accountability, probably even demanding impeachment of the President and resignation of senior military leaders. Not now, no—instead all channels are flooded with the Gabby Petito and Brian Laundrie saga for the past 30 days. Sure, it’s sad, but she is one of over 600,000 Americans who go missing every year; the timing of focusing nearly all news on that one story brings me pause. She went missing on August 24, and was officially reported missing by her family on August 28, the weekend all hell broke loose at the Kabul airport. Stealing a line from one of the Star Wars movies (don't ask me which one), this is a classic example of "These are not the droids you seek.” Swiftly silenced, swept under the rug, all focus shifted to a missing 22 year old and an uproar over Haitian immigrants being chased by the border patrol on horses. 

Silenced until a 17-year veteran and battalion commander, Marine Lt Col Stuart Scheller, posted a video demanding accountability from senior Marine leaders after 13 service members, 11 of them Marines, one of which Scheller knew personally, were killed in a suicide bombing outside the airport they were trying to protect. Admittedly, making the video in uniform was sure to cause an uproar in the tight-assed Marine community, and many veterans and current servicemen criticize him for that, but something tells me he knew his video and statements would carry more weight and credibility if he wore his uniform.  The video went viral, and within hours he was relieved of his command, and as of today, sits in the brig at Camp Lejeune pending an Article 32 hearing (an Article 32 hearing determines if the offense(s) warrant trial by court-martial). Lt Col Scheller has since posted two more videos in which he resigns his commission and implores senior leaders to take accountability, a sentiment echoed by the majority of military, both currently serving and veterans. 

Accountability??? For senior officers, for those in power, for military officers and senior enlisted, or any military member with connections, yeah what a joke. In the 32 years I served my country—22 years on active duty, and 10 years as a contractor—accountability was anything but fair and equitable. Wing commanders who used their position and power to have affairs with wives of their subordinates, and, when discovered, were allowed to retire as if nothing had happened. My own single airman being denied reenlistment for having an affair with a married officer, while that officer was given a slap on the wrist and allowed to continue on with his career as if nothing happened. Rampant sexual abuse from senior enlisted members and officers, lying and cheating and stealing: in short, any crime or immoral behavior you see in the civilian sector, I saw in the military. But true accountability? None. Scapegoats? Plenty of them. So upon hearing Scheller demand accountability from his chain of command, and the echoes of other service members demanding accountability from their chain of command, all the way up to the commander in chief, I sighed. I applaud him, but at the same time, I seriously doubt it will ever happen.  

 
Back to the Afghanistan debacle: how does the largest organization supporting veterans, the Veteran’s Administration, respond to this debacle? By quickly posting videos on their website, activating a crisis line for Afghanistan veterans (with the ubiquitous tag line “you are not alone,”) publishing blogs, and sending an email to every single veteran on the VA rolls. Funny that no videos or blogs or personal emails from the director were sent in the previous 20 years, but all of the sudden, now we are flooded with help and advice and resources to “help” us deal with the anger and confusion and disillusionment over the fallout of a botched withdrawal from a country we all had something to do with helping since 2001. And to that, I cry BULLSHIT! The emails, blogs, crisis lines, “thank you for your service” comments from politicians and senior officials in the military are vain attempts to atone for the worst military withdrawal in history, virtue signaling at its finest. And, the continued insistence from the commander in chief and his senior level military advisors and joint chiefs that “we stand by our decision” is a slap in the face of all who served. 

Am I saying I believe we should have stayed in Afghanistan indefinitely? No, and I’m not alone in saying we had already been there far longer than we should have been. But, to abruptly abandon the country in the infancy of learning how to protect and govern themselves, to pull the only safety net they had for two decades out from under them, was dishonorable and foolhardy, to put it mildly. The Afghan security forces and fledgling government were not even close to being ready to take back the reins of their country, a country with a multiethnic society, comprised of at least fifteen different tribes dating back thousands of years; the only uniting thread among these warring tribes being their religion: Islam. Outsiders (Alexander the Great, Iran, India, Russia, and the United States, to name a few) have tried unsuccessfully for centuries to "tame" Afghanis, a people for all intents and purposes living in the 15th century, endorsing honor killings, amputation of limbs or execution as punishment for crimes. We stormed in there, guns blazing, ostensibly to avenge the atrocities of 9/11, and 20 years later, after a great loss of life and billions of dollars, realized the futility of “converting” Afghanistan to our way of life. Withdrawal was inevitable, as it was in Vietnam; it was just a matter of determining when we could beat feet, tuck our tails, and run. 

So, how do I feel about the events  in Afghanistan? I am angry, hurt, sad, and ashamed to be an American right now—I think of the maimed soldiers, I can see the boxes marked “human remains” on my flights from Bagram to Kandahar to Kabul to Qatar. Mostly, though, what makes me lose sleep, what makes me truly ashamed of my country, is the abandonment and downright betrayal of those Afghanis who worked alongside us, who risked their lives and the lives of their families to be our interpreters and cultural liaisons in a country we did not understand. I remember the three teenage boys, barefoot and wearing bits and pieces of ill-fitting uniforms, rifles slung over their shoulders, letting me into the compound at night and graciously offering me a cup of chai. I see the women and girls allowed to go to school for the first time in their lives, and selling their beautiful handmade linens and wares at the weekly market. I see the children clamoring for food, for money, for pencils, for shoes, for whatever we “rich Americans” could spare.  I see a country so poor and so beautiful but entrenched in the past. Photos of Afghan civilians trying to stop huge aircraft while taxiing, some of them even desperate enough to try to hitch a ride on the plane’s landing gear (and inevitably falling to their deaths), whole families shoving their papers and passports at beleaguered American soldiers, trying to attain safe passage out of a country that was falling apart. And all I can ask is, “why?”  Was it worth it? Did those service men and women die or return home crippled mentally and physically in vain? How do we make sense of it all for them? 

We don’t. Only God can see the future, and how it will play out. But I am still angry.

Many of my friends and family have asked me “What do you think of the Afghanistan withdrawal?” and “How does it make you feel?” 

Well, now you know. 

Vent over.

Epiphany

No Christmas nativity scene is complete without the figures of the Magi. When I was growing up, we celebrated the 6th of January as Epiphany; it marked the 12th day of the Christmas season, a time when we'd bring out the three wise men, or the Magi, and their camels, and place them around our family creche. When I was younger, I did not really ascribe much meaning to the presence of the wise men, or to Epiphany for that matter, other than it marked the official end of the Christmas season: the tree and all the trimmings would be put away for another year, and school would start back up the following Monday. As I matured, though, I learned the significance of these few verses was much more important: the manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles. Epiphany.

For those of you not familiar with the the Bible, the story is recounted in the gospel of Matthew; several Magi came from the east to worship the newborn King of the Jews, bringing him gifts. Along the way, they stopped off at the palace of King Herod (who had been appointed the earthly "King of the Jews" by his Roman superiors) and inquired where the new King of the Jews could be found. Understandably, King Herod was not too happy about this potential usurper to his throne, and later on Matthew tells how Herod tried to ensure his throne was secure by ordering the death of all little boys under the age of two. Pretty traumatic story, one that always made me shudder at the horrific, senseless brutality of it all. Epiphany.

Over the past two weeks, I often wondered about how odd it was that the Congressional certification of the election results coincided with Epiphany. I had never paid any attention to that ritual, let alone what date it occurred on, but this year was different (shocker...something else different and weird to happen this year). I watched with some trepidation, but mostly bemusement, at all the rumblings of a pending march on Washington, encouraged (some say incited) by our current President via Twitter, ultra-conservative news outlets, and (anti) social media outlets. To many Americans, albeit not a majority, January 6 represented their last chance to express protest of the results of the November election; the movement took on a life of its own, and hundreds of thousands of American citizens organized a march on the nation's capital. I figured it would be a repeat of the Jericho March a few weeks earlier, and that it would garner some airtime and some attention, but that it would be mostly harmless. Boy was I wrong. Epiphany.

Today I watched, for the first time in my life, the airing of the actual certification of the Electoral College votes--a tradition that goes back 232 years. My husband and I watched as Vice President Pence began the session in the House Chambers, calling on the states to announce whom their electoral votes supported, votes VP Pence would then confirm. First, Alaska announced their awarding of three votes for the Trump/Pence ticket, and Pence, after ensuring there were no objections, confirmed that announcement, and told the clerk to record it. I commented to my husband how neat it was that we were watching this process, something we had never before seen. Next, Arizona, and I again watched as the state elector announced their votes, this time for Biden/Harris, and VP Pence asked if there were any objections. This time, a Congressman objected, backed up by Senator Cruz, and officially objected to those votes, thus stopping the entire process. It was truly interesting to hear the explanation of the process, and what would happen next. Epiphany. 

No one, though, seemed prepared for what happened next (although they should have been). A peaceful march of citizens disillusioned with the outcome of the election, waving flags and wearing MAGA gear, was first just something interesting to watch, but the media was intent on making it into more than it was, using words like "riot" and "takeover" and "insurrection." According to them, the protest somehow morphed from a peaceful protest and expression of first amendment rights to a threatening storming and potential takeover of the US Capitol. What I saw? People marching peacefully, standing on the steps of the capital next to capitol policeman, waving flags, not guns, until I spied a few protesters in riot gear and camouflage and helmets breaking windows to get into the building. I almost thought they were part of the police force. Everywhere it appeared to be peaceful; folks actually in attendance were posting and tweeting their confusion over the media misrepresentation. Epiphany.

Soon, members of Congress were unceremoniously whisked away via underground tunnels and buses. The electoral confirmation was immediately halted. The DC mayor implemented a 6 pm curfew. The FBI and the National Guard were activated. Accusations were flying from both sides, and all the major media channels feigned surprise at an event that had been promised for weeks. The same media that quietly stood by and practically condoned the violence of last summer, excusing burning buildings and destroyed property and injuries and deaths and calling it all peaceful protest now called the gathering in DC a mob, a riot, an abomination, an insurrection. We turned off the TV, realizing there was no unbiased, objective reporting to be seen. Epiphany.

As I was eating dinner, I began to cry. I tried to not focus on what had transpired, the implication of what I had seen. I tried to believe in the goodness of people, that truth would win out, that all this would just be another expression of freedom of speech, and that voices would be heard, even if the outcome of the election was not changed. But it felt hopeless, and suddenly became clear to me what was happening. Truth was twisted, voices were silenced, drowned out by the echo chambers of reporters and the internet.  I cannot prove it. I am not even sure what happened. Other than, yet again, millions have been manipulated to believe what the world wants them to believe, to see what they want them to see. And all the protesting or trying to convince folks otherwise, is pointless. Epiphany.

I don't know what happened today, but intuitively I know it is not what the news reporters and social media would have you believe.  And no, I am not spouting some ill-founded conspiracy theory. Nor do I believe President Trump is blameless and innocent of manipulation. However, I do not trust the narrative being hawked by glib, well-dressed, talking heads posing as journalists. Today, Americans tried to express their support of their candidate, peacefully, and somehow that protest was hijacked by forces wanting to discredit everyone who refuses to subscribe to the secular rhetoric of a nation bent on socialism. But I guess that's what happens when  we make gods of money and power and fame, when we put self before others, when  we put our trust in earthly leaders instead of Christ, and when we worship the creation instead of the Creator. Epiphany. 

Pinning my hopes

 

Election day: an event holding huge promise for everyone, not just the candidates, an event on which many pinned hopes. Hope that the election results would bring answers and resolution to all our fears: the pandemic, healthcare, the future of our country, riots, unrest, and economic insecurity. Hope that we could once again be one nation, under God, indivisible. Hope that we could return to a time when civil discussions were the norm. Hope for a political and ethical reset. Hope for affirmation of our ideals. Hope for a return to patriotism and respect and kindness and civility. And I secretly hoped for my side to win to achieve some sort of narrative closure and a reaffirmation of the basic good and decency of the American people.  I had not just pinned my hopes on the wrong thing--I had wrong hope, and had placed my trust in princes.

Like many of you, I expected, no prayed, for this election to NOT be a close call, but instead to unify us towards a common goal. But why would I, like my fellow voters, expect, or even hope, that the election would reflect anything other than the stark, irreconcilable differences touted on Facebook, Twitter, CNN, Fox, church pulpits, street protests, and even dinner table conversations? Because I was placing my confidence in earthly systems, and counting on a flawed process to bring America to its knees, to acknowledge that, as a nation, we have abandoned our Christian values and are blatantly ignoring God's law. Ashamedly, I secretly hoped for a landslide to crush the opposition and show them, once and for all, who is boss. So here we are, 48 hours after the last polling station closed, and not just me, not just the country, but the world waits with bated breath on the outcome of this election, as if the outcome will make all our dreams (or nightmares) come true. I hate this waiting, the not knowing, and worst of all, I am mad that things are not going to go my way; even now, it is taking a Herculean effort to NOT turn on the news or go to my browser to ascertain if Arizona has declared a winner or if the Congress' balance of power has shifted right or left. And this scene is being repeated millions of times across the country, with folks stressing out over whether their ballot had all the right answers, thereby validating their choices, their values, and their beliefs; some are even already protesting when there is nothing to protest. 

On Tuesday night, when it became painfully obvious the election results not only mirrored, but reinforced the division of our country, I noticed my chest was tight, I was irritable, anxious, and wanted above all else to escape from everything related to election results and partisanship. This distressed me emotionally and spiritually, and I struggled to squelch the anxiety and refocus on God and Scripture, so I began to dissect those feelings and thoughts to try to make sense of them. I turned to Scripture and Christian resources, and began to work through it, as uncomfortable and distressing as these feelings can be. I was anxious—election anxiety.

Anxiety, regardless of the genesis of it, is inordinately hard, because anxiety triggers the fight or flight reflex, and the overwhelming desire to master the situation, conquer the anxiety, and above all, be in control. Being a Christian does not preclude the presence of anxiety; sometimes suffering anxiety as a Christian causes even MORE anxiety, because we wrongly interpret God's word on the subject. Casting all our cares on Him, or not being anxious about anything, does not mean we will never be anxious.  We will be anxious, simply because we are humans; in the Psalms, David asked God numerous times to help him with his anxiety and cares (Psalms 13, 23, 30, 91 and 139, to name just a few). Like David, we can cast those fears and anxieties and misgivings on the Lord, and He will help us walk through them. Hopefully, with God's help, I will reflect to others that we trust in God’s sovereignty.

Put not your trust in princes, in a son of man in whom there is not salvation. When his breath departs, he returns to the earth, on that very day his plans perish. (Psalm 146, 3-4)

Black and White

Black and white. "Here it is...in black and white." A phrase that can mean several things... an obvious answer,  or something reliable and credible, or seeing things only in absolute terms. Sadly, what is happening in our country right now (again) is none of those things. On the surface, it appears to be about black versus white, black lives vs white lives, black injustice vs white privilege, black subjugation vs white dominance. In reality, though, events this week are not that easily explained. Or understood. Or solved. For the past 8 days, I have been on the brink of tears, feeling them well up inside me and my heart aching until my eyes are near brimming before I take a deep breath and pray and push them back down. Because if I was to give in to the feeling, let the tears fall, there would be no end to them, and the hopelessness of the situation would drown me. So I pray some more, read articles, watch news videos, and skim posts on social media to get a sense of the battle we face. An age old battle, since the beginning of creation, with eternal consequences. 

Black and white. Sin. Evil. Light. Darkness. In its most basic, age old form: hatred of a group of humans because they are different. Genocides. Gendercides. Ethnic cleansing. Apartheid. Racism. Any time one human presumes superiority over another human, we have evil.  In its most basic form. So much hate, Lord, so much injustice, so much pain. Cities under siege, people hating each other, taking sides, destroying lives and property and futures. Social media sites exploding with videos, live feeds, posts, debates, photos, news updates, and so much self-serving, hate-filled rhetoric and ugliness. The implicit made explicit. I read posts, try to answer, to reason, to express my heart, but I, too, am lost as to how to make sense of it all, and it shows. In my struggle to find the right words, to try to speak calm and love and peace, inevitably I only succeed in irritating someone or being misunderstood and am subjected to retorts and accusations that, I am ashamed to say, I sometimes answer in a less than loving manner. My daughters are distraught and want answers to why this is happening, and for once, I fail as a mom--I have no answers, no reasons, no prescription for fixing this, no trite explanations for why people are doing what they are doing. There is no simple answer. Yes, sin is the root cause of all evil and sadness and suffering in this world. But identifying that sin is the answer and the cause of it all does not make any of it magically go away. 

Black and white. And in some feeble attempt to make sense of it all, to do something, some elements of music industry organized a collective action, Blackout Tuesday, to protest racism and police brutality. The action, organized in response to recent killings of unarmed black men, is taking place today, June 2, 2020--my 65th birthday. Not only are businesses taking part encouraged to abstain from releasing music and other business operations--now social media users are posting blank, black squares in lieu of cover and profile photos. But, like other groupthink efforts, folks seem to just be following blindly in an effort to be viewed as sympathetic and supportive of racial injustice; even I considered, for a nanosecond, joining this non-movement. Because it is only cosmetic, and does not solve anything. It neither promotes love nor heals the hate, the rift we have--it reduces the underlying disease to a slogan, a saying, a hashtag, without offering a cure or even a bandaid. 

Black and white. So what do we do? What do I do? What is my purpose in this? To reflect Christ, yes. To love his image bearers--all of them. To show the way, to see peace, to show the light of the gospel. But when? How? How can we rebuild? How do we heal?  How do we make sense of it all? And when, God? When will we all be reconciled not just to You, but to our fellow man? How long must we tear each other apart? Where is your purpose in all of this suffering and hatred? Separated from each other, and separated from You. 

Black and white. We don't heal by hurting others. We don't rebuild by tearing down. We don't reconcile by hating others. We don't heal by disrespecting others. We don't heal by focusing only on differences, but by realizing that, despite differences, we are all image bearers of our Creator. For this, for this, Jesus died...to reconcile a helpless, hopeless people to God and to each other. For God is neither black nor white, or red or brown or yellow; God is not a color. God is LOVE. Infinitesimal love for every single one of His creations. And while we are not God, we are made in HIS image, and should reflect HIS love, HIS beauty, HIS grace. God is love, and He is light. Light defeats darkness--even in a world full of darkness, all one needs to do is shine one small light to dispel some of the darkness.

Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children. And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God. (Ephesians 5:1-2)

There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave[g] nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. (Galatians 3:28)

Caught up in the madness

To mask or not to mask...that is the question. Well, one of the questions, anyway, and the way someone answers gets that person pegged as silly or thoughtless, fearful or realistic, overreacting or callous. Where someone stands right now on whether everything should open, or the genesis of the coronavirus, or the role of government during a crisis--these are all litmus tests for how we view each other right now. Conspiracy theories abound more now than ever before, primarily because the world is so connected, and information, especially MISinformation, goes viral (pardon the pun) in milliseconds. And, being human, folks latch onto any explanation whether it makes sense or not because, well, we need to blame someone or something for this, don't we? So we are divided into camps, the Stay At Homes pitted against the Reopen It Alls, with little to no respect, or even empathy, for why the other "side" thinks the way they do. And so we rant and vent on social media, splattering posts with emojis and ALL CAPS to make sure everyone knows where we stand. We judge people we see in public as on our side or not on our side simply based on whether they wear a mask, and we shake our heads or roll our eyes. The line has been drawn.

Three months ago, most media platforms (in the US, at least) were inundated with posts, memes, and shared news blasts concerning presidential politics and likely candidates for this November's election. Then, COVID-19 took over the world, and all media platforms with it. Sure, there is the occasional surge about media blips, but they are quickly drowned out by the uproar over the decisions being made at federal, state, and local levels to not only beat the virus, but to prevent economic collapse (while still preserving their elected positions, of course). Everyone, it seems, is caught up in the madness.  

Including me. 

And I have to stop and think and remind myself I am a Christian, (seriously, sometimes I have a response formed in my head, or even typed out, and I see that smack on the forehead "what was I thinking?" emoji in my mind). C'mon, I am to emulate Christ, not the world. My go to resource for encouragement and validation is the Bible, not FaceBook.  I should commit these two verses to memory, and tape copies of them to my laptop: “Let us not pass judgment on one another any longer, but rather decide never to put a stumbling block or hindrance in the way of a brother”? (Romans 14:13) and “Be careful, however, that your freedom does not become a stumbling block to the weak.”  (1 Corinthians 8:9)

Alas, humility and self-sacrifice does not come naturally to me, or human beings in general. So I get caught up in the madness of being tossed about, torn between selfish desires and love for my neighbor. I want to go to the gym, get back to church, make plans for vacations, hear that my daughter and family can get a flight out of India, get my brother back to his routine, and be able to find the good brand of toilet paper. Anger, fear, confusion, depression, sadness--being a Christian does not eliminate these emotions. But, being a Christian DOES mean we have an explanation for it all. God is sovereign, God is good, and God is using all things for His purposes for those that believe in him. 

Yes, I am in this world, but not of this world--but too often there is a dichotomy  between who I am and who I present. I am supposed to be salt, and light. Sometimes I may not reflect that, sometimes I am less than patient, less than humble, and less than accepting. And for that, I beg forgiveness. 

Lord help me live this every day:  

Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. (Phil 2:2-3)

Ameri-Christianity?

In C. S. Lewis’s Screwtape Letters, the demon Screwtape advises his protege and nephew Wormwood to convince his human target that politics are a key part of his faith. “Then let him, under the influence of partisan spirit, come to regard it as the most important part,” Screwtape said. That way, faith would become a mere pretext for politics.  Such is the atmosphere we live in right now...faith has become a pretext for politics, regardless of your faith of choice.  Institutional evangelicalism has spread like wildfire all the way to the White House, accomplishing, in my humble opinion, the exact opposite of the desired effect. One has to look no farther than the President's newly appointed personal pastor, Paula White, a populist televangelist from Florida, to see that.  And she is not the only evangelical preacher who has diluted (polluted?) the gospel message; nor is the Republican party the only one to marry faith to politics when courting voters. Both Sen Cory Booker and Mayor Pete Buttigieg have hired "faith advisors" for their campaigns.  In 2016, I was frustrated by the dichotomy of the two candidates and their respective parties, and how little either of them espoused my values. (see Election Year Dilemma)

So there is little wonder that I am confused and disillusioned in regards to my role as a Christian in the political process and my role as an American citizen.  And have been getting progressively more so over the past five years.  Evangelical leaders, political action groups thinly veiled as spiritual advisors, televangelists, and the like have succeeded in thrusting Christ to the forefront of the political melee, while simultaneously reflecting an image so unlike Christ it astounds me.  Moral majority, conservatives, the religious right, and ultra-conservative groups have somehow convinced media and the voting public that they speak for all of Christendom, that a vote for their candidates is a vote for God.  Democrat=Bad; Republican=Good. Liberals are equated with the anti-fa movement,  atheists and communists, and pictured as wild-eyed, nation-hating, illogical and over-emotional fanatics, while conservatives are promoted as Godly believers in all things good and true, as patriots, and as all-around great folks of strong moral fiber.  Racial profiling, gender profiling, age profiling—all of that has taken a back seat to political profiling.  Are you right or are you left?  Red or blue?  Pro-Trump or Never-Trumper?  We check out the FaceBook profiles of our friends and would-be friends and distant family to take an unofficial census of who is on our side, who is of the same political bent.  Age, race, faith, marital status—none of that matters as much as whether or not they will agree with, like, and support our political rants on social media.  

And I am as guilty of this prejudging as anyone else.  This truly pains me because I know I am missing out on meeting and getting to know many wonderful people, and vice versa.  I have been pigeonholed, stereotyped, sorted, filed and assigned roles, personality, characteristics, beliefs and values that do not even remotely resemble who I am.  If I comment on something a friend or a group posts, people who have never met me either applaud my sentiment and then send me a friend request, or they call me names, attack my character, and hurl keyboard obscenity after obscenity.  Even folks I have known for years, worked with, laughed with, and cried with, seem to want to assign me to a specific group.  And not just on FaceBook either!  I could be at the brewery, or a restaurant, or at a social gathering, and if I mention God, or Christ, the person I am talking to will either slap my shoulder and say, “Amen Sister!” or look uncomfortable and change the subject.  I am either in or I am out.  Our country has fractured into tribes, where groupthink is the overarching and overriding method for solving (avoiding) conflict, making (avoiding) decisions, and facilitating (avoiding) discussion of controversial issues.  Groupthink is NOT a good thing, folks.  It is lazy, and dangerous, and downright stupid, really.  Creativity and rational decision making and logic are thrown out the window all for the sake of cohesiveness and getting along.  And it is not only rampant on social media—actually, on media in general and in particular.  So what has happened to us as a society—the United States, that is--that has caused such a splinter in our national identity?  And don’t blame it on this President or past Presidents, or any elected official, although it sure is convenient and easy to absolve ourselves of all wrongdoing and make a scapegoat of one or two people.  The rapid expansion of technology into every facet of life, coupled with the ever-increasing popularity of social media, has contributed to making us a society of faceless critics, where we hide behind the security of our keyboards and screens and profile images to say things we would almost certainly NEVER say on the phone, in a letter, or at a public setting, let alone face-to-face.  The anonymity provided by our obsession with a screen, touchpad, and the ease of texting has lulled us into a false sense of self-importance, where we can say what we want when we want and to whomever we want, as long as we add a funny or cute little emoji to soften the blow.

But I digress.  Back to the issue of what I like to call Ameri-Christianity, where Christian tenets have become so distorted  and intertwined  with politics that it no longer reflects Biblical principles.  Pastors tell us how to vote, weaving current political issues and Supreme Court decisions into their weekly sermons; parking lots are filled with cars adorned with identical bumper stickers, making it easy to identify the political bent of the congregation.  (Sadly, these also dissuade newcomers, and send a message of “conform to this or don’t come in.”)  We have lived here for over 10 years, the last 5 of it full-time, and we have attended, joined, or contemplated joining seven different churches.  Not because we are unsure of our beliefs, or we had some epiphany on a certain scriptural issue, but because we discovered, either in the first couple visits or a longer period, that we did not fit in.  We are not cookie-cutter Christians.  God does not only bless America.  And He certainly does not interfere with our electoral process.  Yes, our faith and our beliefs should guide how we live, how we act, the decisions we make, big and small…including how we vote.  Just not the other way around.  

See, Jesus is neither a Republican or a Democrat—he is not a patriot.  He is not an American citizen, or one of the founding fathers of our great nation.  And while I am a citizen of this country, and of the world, more importantly, I am first and foremost a citizen of the kingdom of God.  And it is to that kingdom that I will always pledge my fealty.  

But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by the power that enables him even to subject all things to himself. (Philippians 3:20-21)

Blowin' in the wind

Another day, another tragedy.  Senseless violence.  Blood spatter on video games so real, I want to puke.  Rubbernecking at a gory interstate multiple car crash.  Civil wars, genocide, infanticide.  Refugees from Syria, Nigeria, Rwanda, Myanmar.  Endless media coverage of graphic footage of (insert recent violent act here).  Talking heads debating who caused it, how to stop it. Finger pointing, turning a blind eye. A flurry of outrage on Instagram, FaceBook, Twitter, and at the coffee shop.  Everyone wants to do something, but time marches on.  We become even more numb, and we move on, back to our comfortable lives, satisfied that our posts and our well-meaning prayers adequately express our sorrow and indignation. Until the next time.  Who caused it?  Why?  How could someone do this?  Why doesn't God answer?  Where IS God in all this?  Blowing' in the wind...

Playing in my head right now are songs of the 60s, especially Dylan's, more specifically, the first one I learned to play on a cheap six-string guitar.  Blowing' In The Wind was written almost 60 years ago, sung by Joan Baez, Peter Paul and Mary, and of course, Dylan. It was a staple at Vietnam war protests, rallies, and sit-ins.  My generation took up the call as an anthem for change.  We thought it was simple...congregate and sing some protest songs, resist, march. Anti guns, anti-war, stop poverty, civil rights marches, stop racism. Watts,  John Lennon, Harlem, Woodstock, Guthrie, Charles Manson, Black Panthers, Patty Hearst, Ho Chi Minh Trail, Mekong Delta, communes, hippies, free love.  We were so in touch, so passionately desperate for peace, and we thought we had all the answers.  All we had to do was sing, wear flowers in our hair, and change the world. We tried to grasp the answers, hell, we tried to grasp the questions...blowin' in the wind.  

I still don't have the answer. Many people think they do. Control guns. Mental  health. Get to church. Read the Bible. Home school. Turn off your iPhones and disconnect from all the electronics. Go back to nature. Pray. Love. Do good.  Confront. Don't confront. I don't have a clue. Dylan didn't either, he was quite cryptic about it, saying "There ain't much I can say about this song, except the answer is blowin' in the wind. It ain't no book or movie or TV show or discussion group, man, it's in the wind."

Bob Dylan, Blowin in the Wind

In Christ. On Facebook.

Neither Jesus nor St Paul ever used the word "Christian," yet Paul used the phrase "in Christ" over 150 times.  Over the years I have given a lot of thought and prayer to what it means to be a Christian, to be "In Christ." And I would be lying to say I haven't struggled with it, because it is a process--sanctification takes a lifetime.  

Sometimes it is easier than other times to be a Christian. Church definitely is one of those places it is easy. Also, in my car, or at home, or with fellow believers. Gets a little harder to be a Christian in the car when someone pulls in front of you and then flips you off.  It also isn't easy to quote Psalms when some 15 year old cashier is rude to you, or when your dog throws up on the good rug. And it is extremely difficult to maintain one's Christian decorum and keep pleasant thoughts when friends and family are hateful--especially sisters.  And your mom. But I must admit, the most challenging place to be a true Christian these days is not even a place at all, but it sure takes up a lot of our time...the internet.Cyberspace The web. Social media.And, while I do trust in God's omniscience, I seriously doubt Paul or any of the apostles could ever have foreseen Twitter, Instagram, or Facebook. Being on FaceBook is a nice pastime, a safe hobby, as long as I don't start taking myself or other FaceBook posts too seriously.   

I have Christian friends, and non-Christian friends, but I try to keep things on social media fairly innocuous--as much as I can, I try to stay away from the big three:  politics, money, and religion.  And, while I want to be myself, I also don't want to just put a bunch of pointless information out there either--there really is such a thing as too many cat videos. One of the most valuable lessons I've learned? Sitting on my hands is the equivalent of biting my tongue when I want to say something a little too hastily, or spout off some sarcastic witticism before I read the entire post, or before I jump to false conclusions about what someone is trying to say. There are enough devil's advocates and internet trolls lurking about cyberspace ready to pounce on a lively debate and discussion to plant seeds of discontent and hate--I don't need to add to that number. And yes, sadly, not everyone really cares about seeing all 9,752 photos of my adorable grandchildren.  

There are times I will comment on someone else's post, or deliberately read posts where the obvious objective is to stir the pot, knowing that I will definitely NOT agree with what is being discussed. There is something to be said about an intelligent banter, as long as no one starts getting offensive or shooting their mouth off too much. Sometimes I just like to sit back and read all the comments and replies and comments to the replies. Other times, all it takes is a cursory scan of two or three lines, and I hurriedly hit the page down or back key. And yes, there are subjects I will definitely not entertain thinking, reading, or discussing--not out of fear, but out of respect for God's commandments. Normally, though, the fewer obscenities, the better the grammar and spelling, the more likely a post is to keep my attention; repeated expletives really just highlight someone's small vocabulary, and while minor misspellings are understandable, the post should have some sort of sentence structure that makes sense.  

Leading up to the 2016 election, I initially tried to steer clear of posts even hinting at controversy.  Then, the more polarized the country became, it became harder to navigate social media and still remain, well, sociable. First I tried to ignore a lot of it, even resorting to "unfollowing" some of my friends because I just couldn't handle all the frenzied feeds popping up on an average day. News hoaxes. Weird links.  Suggested websites. Folks screaming at each other IN ALL CAPS.  Immediately after the election, there was great mourning by some of friends, and gleeful "i told you so" by others. None of it made me feel any better.  Some even made me really sad.  At first I commented on a few--initially, only posts that I agreed with. You know, posts celebrating conservative, Christian values. But then I noticed my Christian friends were getting dragged into arguments. And they did not always fare too well.  Trolls were jumping in on their comments. Nowhere was safe!  Now what?  I decided this is all out war! So, I updated my friends list and decided to "follow" all of them.  Even my liberal friends.  

And that is how, in a recent discussion, I repeated some clever meme I read somewhere about how lately the world seems to worry about offending anyone and everyone but God. I thought it was perfectly germane to the issue being discussed, but another participant did not understand what I meant, so I queried "?????", to which she replied with a long answer about how so-called Christians, in her recent experience, have shown more hate and less acceptance than those who do not profess to be Christians. And then she said, "with all due respect, if we offend people, then we offend God." I was in the middle of rolling my eyes, and then, I took a deep breath.  Thought about what she said--she was right.  I had used some clever little saying that I thought fit the context, trying to show how righteous I was, and how I could fit in to this conversation and still maintain my superior Christian ethics, and there it was...her simple reply...if we offend people, then we offend God.    

So many times, on social media, in the news, in personal encounters, Christians are described as two-faced, racists, bigots, misogynists, and homophobes (we are not).  The recent election, unfortunately, has equated Christianity with Trump, and somehow, being Christian now equals close-mindedness, and hatred of all things different. All the hot button topics--gay marriage, abortion, transgender bathrooms, medical marijuana, immigration, poverty, Clinton, Trump, Black Lives Matter, racial profiling--these are gut-wrenching, emotional issues, and are viewed differently by different people. But, as a Christian, being in Christ, I am united to Christ, part of Christ.  So when I view these issues, and, stepping out on a limb here, when fellow Christians view these issues, we are all viewing them as we feel Christ views them.  We forget that not everyone is using that same frame of reference, so when I as a Christian say abortion is wrong, what the rest of the world hears is "you are wrong."  And so the argument begins. Doors slam shut. The walls go up. Fists fly.  Flags get burned. Rhetoric is thrown about. Bibles are thumped.  And no one comes out any wiser...just madder. More close minded. Backs turned. Arms folded. Unfriended. And the biggest loser?  The Gospel.  

Because I forget to be In Christ, Christ-like. I stop reflecting Christ when I project my own agenda. I am commanded to love others, to love everyone. Get that board out of my own eye before I get the tweezers out to remove a splinter from my neighbor's eye.  How in the WORLD does a Christian profess or exhibit love? By listening. By understanding. With an open mind. And an open heart. The world is listening and watching us.  It is not my place to pass judgment.  Or convince.  Or convict.  But to demonstrate, through my actions and words and deeds, how even a sinner such as me (yes, me) is precious in His sight. I am still sinning. And I will keep sinning. But I am also a saint, in Christ, chosen by Him before creation. It is that miracle, that "stupendous reality" as John Piper puts it, that I should be putting across.  In person. In all I do. In all I say. And yes, on FaceBook.

Notice we are to be SALT of the world. Not the pepper. Pepper is too spicy. And it makes you sneeze.

Equal Pay for Unequal Work

One of the mantras of the recent election campaign was "equal pay for equal work."   Hillary Clinton used her feminine gender to imply she was one such underpaid woman, and she promised she would champion the rest of the female workforce, by ensuring all women would receive the same pay as their male counterparts for the same work. Being a woman myself, I couldn't agree more (although being in the military, my pay was always based on gender neutral criteria such as time in service and time in grade...so I made the same as a male of the same rank, same time in service....but I digress).  

Segue to my reading and study yesterday...Matthew 20:20-28. The mother of the sons of Zebedee goes up to Jesus and boldly (arrogantly?) demands for her two sons to sit at Jesus' right and left in His kingdom. Of course Jesus goes on to speak about the last being first, and how He came to  serve, not be served. And of course, the disciples, as usual, just were way off base--they kept thinking Jesus was referring to some sort of earthly kingdom or takeover of Rome when he'd speak about His Father's Kingdom...so of course, they wanted to share in some of the spoils of that kingdom. There was much jockeying about for who's first, who's the favorite, teacher's pet, and all that. Fantastic lessons there--the first will be last, and the last will be first. Jesus rebukes them by telling James and John (and the rest of the disciples) that none of them  know what they are asking!  Can they drink His cup (bear His suffering?)  Yes, Lord!  Fine, He says...you will, but only the Father can grant who receives what reward in His kingdom. Powerful lessons.  But I needed more than this. So, as I often do,  I read the verses leading up to this, verses 1-16: the laborers in the vineyard. And this is where my study yesterday dovetails with the equal pay for equal work platform.  

Jesus likens the kingdom of heaven to a master of a house who goes out at various times of the day to hire laborers for his vineyard. The first time he finds laborers eagerly looking for work, and agrees to pay them a denarius for a day's work.  Then, every couple of hours after that, he goes to the marketplace and just sees people idly standing around, so he offers them work too, even though no one else would hire them. All day long, all the way up to an hour before sunset, the master goes out and hires folks to work in his vineyard. Well, when it came time to pay them, each laborer received the same pay....regardless of how long he worked. And when that caused some grumbling among the ones who worked all day, the master told them "you agreed to work for that amount, so take what belongs to you and don't worry what I do with my money. It is mine and I will do with as I please.  

Well, the older I get, the more I realize I wasted years not working in my Lord's vineyard. I idled my time away doing foolish things, and got sidetracked a lot, and often worried too much about earthly pay and earthly rewards.   And while I admit I have at times been jealous of someone who worked fewer hours and received better pay or more recognition, I am ever so grateful and thankful that I will receive the same pay, the same salvation, and the same reward despite doing nothing to earn it. Jesus paid the entire price, He took all the pain, and we get to share in the glory.  As for the laborers in God's kingdom?  Whether we are called early or late, praise God we receive equal pay for unequal work.

Election year dilemma

Everyone has an opinion about how I should vote this year--neighbors, family, acquaintances, FaceBook "friends," the Gospel Coalition, Franklin Graham, Warren Buffet, and my local paper. People are sharing their viewpoints-- some gently, and some not so gently. And while internet and FaceBook hoaxes are not new, this election has certainly spawned some very creative ones: fake quotes, fake violence, nonexistent endorsements, and my favorite ones so far--"Obama signs an EO banning the Pledge of Allegiance in schools" and "3 critically injured after Trump supporter sets mosque on fire." Seriously. People believe this stuff. Neighbors post signs to display candidates they support, only to find those signs defaced or stolen within hours. My darling 80-year old neighbor had all his signs covered with opposition party signs, and his Trump sign ripped off the chain! And in quiet little Asheville, a local rally held by women resulted in a shoving match. Between women. I am being inundated with rhetoric, satire, jokes, breaking news, and old news, SNL, late night and TV talk shows, cable "news", FaceBook, pop-up ads, spam, bumper stickers--it's everywhere, it's relentless, it's exhausting, and it's not helpful. At all. 

Debate moderators are a joke--they argue more with the candidates than the candidates argue with each other. The issues, if there ever were any, are buried under the stinking, rotting pile of name-calling, character assassination, Wikileaks, vulgar videotaped conversations, and the ever-present, never-objective sensationalism-seeking entertainers who laughingly call themselves journalists. The candidates talk more about how the other candidate is worse than they do about themselves or their platform. Hell, does anyone even have a platform any more?They have FaceBook and Twitter and Instagram, yeah. But where do they really stand on the issues? Will they raise my taxes? Can I find a job? How do I afford healthcare? What about the rise in terrorism? What are you going to do to make our country safer? Is Russia going to start a nuclear war? What are your plans to fix our failing education system? What about racism? Those are the questions I want answered. I do not care a whit about deleted emails on Hillary's private server--really, I do not. And I don't give a rat's ass about what Trump said as he was bragging to that jerk Billy Bush. I am sick to death of Trump-ites repeating whatever litanies they are fed by Wikileaks or the media on Clinton's emails, Benghazi, or her husband's sexual escapades. As for much of the hypocritical public shaking their heads and their fingers at Trump's vulgarities, they sit in their living rooms and ogle scantily clad bodies on Dancing with the Stars, and watch Bachelors and Bachelorettes grope multiple prospective future mates on camera, or watch episodes of "insert your favorite TV show here" that have steamy, soft porn scenes and tawdry jokes and groping--on prime time TV, on practically any channel, any time of day. So please, quit telling me that you know best. I don't need anyone writing to me, or imploring me and other "sisters in Christ" to not "deceive myself" about Trump's true identity. I am not stupid. Or uninformed. I am just overhwlemed with the hypocrisy of it all--the media, the lack of true competition, the lack of readily available information, and the preponderance of misinformation that is drowning out or hiding or disguising the truth. 

So how am I to decide? Follow the herd mentality and vote down the party line? Vote the way "respected" Christian leaders are telling me to vote? Do I have to vote? Am I voting for something? Or against something? Why do we know so little about third party candidates? Do they have a chance? Does my vote really matter? Does this election really matter? "Vote your conscience." "A vote for Trump is a vote against Hillary." "Vote the lesser of two evils." "Your vote determines the future of your grandchildren." "Make America Great Again." "Stronger Together." One promises to shatter the Washington bureaucracy and shake things up. Another vies to be the first woman president of the US. Neither of them appear to be fit for office. In a country of over 300 million people, these are the only choices we have next month. I do not yet know how I will check the boxes on November 8th. Or what the outcomes will be. Or if it will matter. 

But of one thing I am sure. On November 9th, God will still be God. He already knows what I will choose. And whoever wins, He will use the person and that party for His glory, for His purpose, for His will. God is not a Democrat, or a Republican, or a man, or a woman. He does not scratch his head or raise his eyebrow at the events that have gone on, are going on, or will go on. None of this surprises Him. 

And in that, I find comfort.