Grace, Being, and Grandma Grace

I remember a time when I was young (not to say that I'm not still young ;-) but I mean when I was really, really young, still on the verge of becoming a teenager), when I was looking at some old pictures with my Grandma Grace, my father's mother. I came upon one picture of a beautiful young lady looking so elegant even though wearing clothes which were very much out of style and a bit strange looking for my era. I remember a hat perched more on the side of her head than on the top and which, to my young eyes, reminded me of a high heeled shoe placed upside down. But, she was beautiful. I asked, "Grandma, who is that?" Her answer was, "That's me. I was still a teenager then."

I was quite surprised. It was hard to connect that young girl to my grandmother whom I had only seen as gray-haired, plump, and old. And, that's where I made my mistake, but not the one that you might expect. I answered, "That was you? Wow. You were beautiful." Now, I had always seen my grandmother as beautiful, but not like that teenage girl. I knew people got old and I was both surprised but also not really. I was more impressed than surprised. That girl was my grandmother?! This was really cool!

But, her answer completely caught me off guard. "No, that was not me," and then with a slight pause and a slight change in tone, "that is me. You've never seen me looking like that, but that's how I see myself when I'm not looking in a mirror and sometimes even when I am. I'm older and I don't look like that anymore on the outside, but that's still me. I'm still that same girl." The words rang in my ear and, became one of those few events you remember not just as a vague memory, but with a distinct sharpness. I can close my eyes and still hear her voice and see the subtle expression in her eyes.

I don't remember what I did after that. I don't remember answering her, maybe just looking at her and at the picture and saying again, "You were really pretty." I'm not sure I understood what she meant then, but I do remember that I couldn't get away from it. I kept thinking about it and I still think about it. She had no problem with me using the past tense to say that she 'was' pretty. But, she objected to me using the past tense to speak of identity. "No, that was not me. That is me."

I'm now about the same age as she was when I talked to her on that day. I too know the feeling of looking in the mirror and suddenly realizing that you don't look like you tend to imagine yourself. There are wrinkles that tend to be smoothed over in my own thinking (better than Photoshop). There is some sagging skin and I don't really understand where it came from and when it appeared. Sometimes I even think it is just that I don't look so good today. Maybe I'm too tired, so that's why the skin above my eyelids is drooping and there are some little bags below my eyes that aren't normally there. But, to be honest, I know it is the new normal and that's just how I look now and it will get worse if I live longer.

But, she's also right. That's not really me. Or maybe I should say, that's me but not any more so than those teenage pictures of me that are in boxes somewhere. They all 'are' me. Or maybe not.

I should not define myself by the way I look. Oh, it really feels good when someone says, "You're 60? You don't look like you're 60." It doesn't matter that they're probably just being polite, and Taiwanese are famous for those exaggerated compliment that everyone knows are exaggerated or sometimes just not true. But, when I hear it, I don't even think about the fact that it's probably just a polite compliment other than a fleeting thought. It still feels good.

But, I should not define myself by how I look. In one sense, maybe a better way to think of it is that neither of those pictures is me. They're just a passing view of the same thing that continues on. I am what I am, not just what I look like, like Popeye was found of saying ("I am what I am and that's all that I am."). It is the person who is something, not the external appearance.

We put a lot of stock on appearances. People shown pictures of various mean tend to label those who are taller as smarter, more successful, more capable. Women are judged just as well. Obviously in the real world, being good-looking is no guarantee of success and anyone who wants to be successful still has to work hard to get there, but it's still true that we make judgments based on appearances. I'd like to think that I don't, but I'm pretty sure that I do.  I should focus more on the person I am being rather than how I look. But, I should also be looking for the "person" in the one in front of me instead of what that person looks like.

Something else that strikes me from this is that even what we are is not based on what we can see in a brief acquaintance over a period of time, but on what the person is, what they are becoming, and what they can become. I've benefited from others who saw in me something that even I didn't see at the time and they were willing to spend time with me to help me become more than I was.

And, maybe that's the most important thing that comes from this random train of thoughts. There aren't many people who practice that. We tend to look at a person and judge their abilities and even their character based on what we see now. That's maybe practical, since how can we know what a person could become? And yet, some people seem to do it. They can see things in someone that others don't see. Maybe they're more optimistic. Maybe they're just more willing to take a risk and when someone fails to develop as they hope, they are just unwilling to assume that others will also fail. Maybe they refuse to see failure as final.

But, I also tend to see this as something fundamental to our faith (even if it is little practiced in our lives). We read that while we were yet his enemies, Christ died for us. That's certainly not just looking at the present person. Maybe we could say, "Yes, but he was God. He knew that he could make us into something else," but that still ignores the fact that he didn't die for those who would believe and would  follow him wholeheartedly, dedicating their lives to him. He also died for those who would believe but would struggle in their faith. He also died for those who would reject him outright and even actively fight against him having any role in their lives.

That's a point of theology that we know is true, but don't really take at face value. We tend to think that he died for all, but that it's only 'for all' in a different sense. He died for them theoretically, while still writing them off in his heart. But, that's not the picture we see of Christ who wept over  those who rejected him and would still welcome them and actively pursue them, even leaving the 99 behind to rescue the one who didn't follow him back to the fold.

And, that's the greatest challenge of all to me. We shouldn't write anyone off. Ever. Not until they are dead and even then, recognizing that we don't really know their heart, what happened in their heart, and how God will deal with them, or what mustard seed of faith might have been there that we couldn't see. We read also that even many who seem to be followers of God might not be, and that God will say to some (and maybe we would be shocked to find out who those are) "Depart from me for I never knew you." Might there also be some that we will be surprised to see there? We just don't know.

It reminds me of phrase in a sermon of C.S. Lewis. I quote a portion below:

“It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which,if you say it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree helping each other to one or the other of these destinations. It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all of our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations - These are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit - immortal horrors or everlasting splendors.”

― C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory

We should be looking (in faith) at what those around us (and we ourselves) can be, instead of just what they (we) are. That is our faith. That is grace. And, that is what God has done to us. That is what it means to be Christian.

Ebola and the Church

At least something concerning the Ebola epidemic is pretty close to the top of every news program today. There is reporting on the facts on the ground in Africa, reports on the panic and even hysteria
that seems to be spreading among the general population in the US, There is a lot on how politicians are using that to further their own ambitions.

Ebola has been around for a long time--first noted in 1976--and there have been many outbreaks since then. But, the current epidemic has been going on since March. That's actually been a pretty long time, and it was reported in the news, but didn't get a huge amount of attention. It was over in a faraway place, a sad story, but these things happen. .

As it spread, there was some discussion about how to contain it from spreading and especially with international air travel being so easy. But, it was a theoretical discussion and it didn't occupy our attention other than a little, "What would we do if it did come over here?"

Then we had some Americans who were serving and caring for Ebola victims in Africa and who were eventually airlifted out. That started getting more attention and some even wondered why we would take the risk of bringing the disease here. Then, a man from Liberia was diagnosed with Ebola at a hospital in Dallas, and later two nurses who cared for him. The idea of closing out borders started getting a lot of traction, and some even extended it to Americans. Donald Trump (admittedly not known for tact, compassion, or a moral compass) tweeted in a series of tweets that the do-gooders should be left to do their good deeds, but if they get infected, then they would just need to "suffer the consequences." Ann Coulter, a prominent conservative pundit, wrote an article entitled, "Ebola Doc's Condition Downgraded to 'Idiotic'" criticising the doctor, the church, and missionaries for trying to save the world when America still had plenty of needs.

Criticism started building and certainly some of that was justified. We really weren't prepared. But, the criticism aimed at the nurses sounded a bit hypocritical and unfair. Now, politicians are trying to make points and show that they are strong and decisive leaders by imposing a blanket quarantine (later weakened somewhat, but only in the face of intense criticism). I don't want to argue that there is no need for any kind of quarantine, but the blanket nature and the rhetoric that makes pariah's of those who try to serve others is very discomforting. Governor Christi's visible contempt for the nurse who was the first to experience this is worrying.

"But," you might say, "what do you expect of a politician, a political pundit, or egotistical businessman?" Point taken. And, maybe the same could be said of the public.

But, what about the church? Where is the voice of the church?  Who is talking about this issue? Well, I'm not in the US right now, so maybe there is something coming from pulpits that I don't know about, but what I do listen to in podcasts or on Facebook (basically just family and church friends) is pretty silent, or (maybe worse) just echoing the same voice that we hear in the media.

Epidemics have changed the course of history, empires have fallen, and battles have been lost due to epidemics. Some of the ruined cities that archaeologists explore are thought to have been abandoned because of an epidemic. Historians blame the fall of the Aztecs and Incas on imported diseases. Some say that epidemics were a factor in the fall of the Roman Empire and some of those were brought back by soldiers returning from faraway lands to the east. In the Antonine Plague starting around AD 165, the death toll reached as high as 2,000 deaths per day just in the city of Rome. A later outbreak starting in AD 251 killed 5,000 per day at its height, and again, that's just talking about Rome itself.

Cyprian was the bishop of Carthage (an important Roman city in what is now Egypt) during the second plague. People were deserting the cities and fleeing to the countryside in huge caravans. The breakdown of social order and the chaos is pretty hard to fathom. It is something totally out of our experience and unimaginable (unless your a Hollywood script writer).

Of this plague we actually have some good records and the interesting thing is that there was a lot of comparison between the average citizen and the Christian. Christianity was still not accepted by Roman law and there was still serious persecution of those who proclaimed Christ. But, when the plagues came, the Christians really made their mark and they were noticed. It was noted that the Roman priests fled the city along with everyone else who could, but the Christians stayed behind and didn't just try to survive, they actively took care of the sick, those who were left behind by their families who had escaped. Many of the Christians died with them, and they weren't stupid. They knew the dangers and the high likelihood that they would die, but they served anyway.

Cyprian wrote of this in 251, and  seemed almost welcoming of the pestilence. He noted how horrific the disease was but claimed that only non-Christians had to fear it. He stated that this plague

"...examines the minds of the human race; whether the well care for the sick, whether the relatives dutifully love their kinsmen as they should, whether the masters show compassion for their ailing slaves, whether the physicians do not desert the afflicted…Although this mortality has contributed nothing else, it has especially accomplished this for Christians and servants of God, that we have begun gladly to seek martyrdom while we are learning not to fear death.  These are trying exercises for us, not deaths; they give to the mind the glory of fortitude; by contempt of death they prepare for the crown…[O]ur brethren who have been freed from the world by the summons of the Lord should not be mourned, since we know that they are not lost but sent before; that in departing they lead the way; that as travelers, as voyagers are wont to be, they should be longed for, not lamented…” (Mortality 15-20, 1958 ed.) [The Rise of Christianity, p. 81, par. 1-2]

But, it was just bishops who noticed. It became a topic of conversation as people branded Christians as "gamblers" while wondering how they could do this. And, this made a huge difference even long term. A century later the emperor Julian pushed to start other charities in an effort to match the Christians.  He wrote to the high priest of Galatia in 362 to push them to work to meet the moral standards shown by Christians, and he attributed the growth of the church to their “moral character, even if pretended,” and their benevolence toward strangers and care for the graves of the dead.” Indeed, at the beginning of the second plague, the church was still made up of people who were mostly of Jewish origin (estimated at 70%) and afterward the ratio soon was about half and half. 


Today, the church has lost its voice. It has become a part of the culture. It talks a lot about the degradation of the moral structure of our society and points to a list of sins that prove it and seem surprised when non-Christians don't hold to those same values (as if holding to a set of values were enough). We have retreated from society, circled the wagons around our faith, and fire at all those outside the circle.

We are not of this world, but we are supposed to be in it. We are not allowed to retreat into our own cocoon. And why is that? We have lost our first love, and that love is a love of Christ. No evangelical would want to admit that. We do love Christ! That's why go to church every Sunday. That's why we are willing to speak out on moral issues. That's why we give to the church, do good works, etc. But, the Bible challenges us to show it in actions, and the primary one is that we should be like Christ. I think that doesn't mean just that we use that to judge what we don't do. Jesus wouldn't steal, so I won't steal. But, what was the main characteristic of Jesus life--the thing that is repeated over and over. None of the gospels emphasizes how well Jesus followed the Law or any other ideas of morality. Certainly I am not to say that he was not moral (he was perfect), but that's not their emphasis. The emphasis is on his love--love for the disciples, love for people around him, and more than that, love for the world (a term John clearly uses to talk about the whole world system and sinful mankind). He loved and the result of that is grace towards the worst sinners and sacrifice for that world that was so against him and the kingdom of God.

We scream out against the world, when we should not be surprised that the world doesn't have our values. But, we don't show love.

Listen carefully the next time you hear about Ebola. You'll hear a lot about what we should do to protect our country, and  that certainly is important. The duty of the government is to protect its citizens. You'll hear discussions about medical issues by people who barely know the difference between aspirin and Tylenol.

But, how often do you hear people expressing, not just some horror that results in pity, but a real love and concern for the families destroyed, the devastation of communities, the orphans left  behind? Surely you will hear some, but then it moves on to the next topic. Where is the love for others? Love results in actions, produces a gracious heart, and leads to sacrifice. Who is willing to sacrifice, even a little time in prayer, a little money toward relief, a voice of reason to push for more done in Africa, much less one's time or one's life?

The early church was a persecuted minority, but they loved their neighbors. They applied Christian doctrine to their lives. They really believed that life was not about expanding their wealth and living more comfortably and it wasn't even just trying to survive. In fact, the survival they thought of was only in the eternal sense. They didn't fear death. They feared embarrassing their Lord.

I read an article a few weeks ago, in Slate by Brian Palmer. The author was at an Ebola consultation and heard it said, “MSF is the only group on the ground,” said one doctor, using the French acronym for Doctors Without Borders. “They are the only ones making any difference.” The congregation nodded in agreement. But, he notes that this is ignoring another group who were also at work, the missionaries. No one was even thinking of them, in spite of the headlines about the missionaries who had contracted Ebola while helping in Africa. He writes, "Missionary doctors and nurses are stationed throughout Africa, in rural outposts and urban slums. Rather than parachuting in during crises, like some international medicine specialists, a large number of them have undertaken long-term commitments to address the health problems of poor Africans." He goes on to talk about his discomfort with the missionary doctors, because of their connecting medical work with their faith, but also admits that this discomfort is due to his own bias. He admits that possibly his atheism has made him biased. "I'm not altogether proud of this bias--I'm just trying to be honest." 

The problem is, though he may have noticed, most of the world hasn't. Some of that is certainly due to the same bias that he admits, but could it also be that we really haven't responded with the massive support that we should have. Or, maybe it is because, even though there are missionary doctors and nurses willing to sacrifice, the church as a whole is not really speaking up. I'm actually not sure, but I do think that if we really had the mind of Christ, the world would not be able to ignore it. Emperor Julian couldn't help but notice, but we can easily be under the radar. 

Where is our influence? Where is our voice? Why isn't there a massive response to show love to our brothers?

Palmer goes on to state that the world should recognize and welcome the missionary doctors because there isn't anyone else who is really willing to stay for the long haul. He even suggests that we shower them with funds to help them out. Finally, he writes, with some irony, "As an atheist, I try to make choices based on evidence and reason. So until we're finally ready to invest heavily in secular medicine in Africa, I suggest we stand aside and leg God do His work."

It almost makes me want to say, "Amen." But, what I want to see is not that we stand aside and let God work. We need to step up and take up and engage in God's work actively and without fear. I'd like to make Mr. Palmer even more uncomfortable.

A Picture of Ministry

Today, in a meeting, I saw again the “Team Hoyt” video . You may not recognize that name, but many of you have probably seen the video of the man with the handicapped adult son competing together in a triathlon (if you haven't, here is one version ). For the running part, the father is pushing a special wheelchair with the son strapped in, for the swimming part, the father is swimming and pulling the son along in a rubber raft, and they have a specially made bike with the son strapped in above the front wheel and the father pedaling behind.

It’s pretty hard to watch this without some tears appearing in your eyes. The father is so committed to the son, and so obviously loves the son. He certainly has had to work on it and train well, and is in the kind of shape that I wish I could be in (well, sort of, since if I wished for that enough, I’d probably put out a little more effort to that end). But, what also strikes me is that, even though the son is not pedaling, not swimming, not running, he seems to be just as excited or more than the father. Even though he is just sitting there while his father does all the work, the look on his face and the uplifted arms seem to be an expression of victory.

It hit me that this is a good picture of ministry, but I’m probably not going in the direction you think I’m going in. I’m not talking about the servant attitude of the father, even though that is a beautiful picture of a heart of service and ministry to others. I’m talking about the son.

The longer I minister, the more I’m convinced that the only way that ministry is effective is as the spirit works in people’s hearts. It’s not because of my great skills or a great process, or a great plan. It’s because God is at work. The picture I am trying to draw is of God who works and lets us be along for the ride. He gives us the joy and satisfaction of being able to participate in his vision for the world. We get some of the honor when we have actually done almost nothing, but the Spirit has been at work and used us.

What a wonderful thing and what freedom that gives. That’s how much God loves me. He gives me the privilege of service, even when I can do nothing, and even when I think I’ve accomplished something special, in reality it was Him, and I get just to enjoy accomplishment. We need not fear failure, inadequacy, lack of talent, etc. He’s back there pedaling, doing all the work.

Isn't that a true picture of what it means to serve as a Christian?