I Am Fearful

Yesterday, a friend and I were talking.  She said something that made me shrink back for a moment.  She said, "Sharon, people aren't like you. Most people just aren't like you. Most people are fearful and they get paralyzed. You, you have no fear."  I looked at this person for a second and I pondered her statement because what she doesn't see is the fear that litters my mind on a daily basis.

I had to stop and think for a second because her perspective is just as valid as mine.  She sees me differently than I see myself and both of our views are real, true experiences; so somewhere in the middle has to be a Truth that acknowledges both realities.

I am a strong woman.  I roll up my sleeves and quite frankly I get sh*t done. There are not many obstacles that I cannot find a way around or over and I don't stop because the road is hard or taking too long.  I am not a quitter.  Perhaps these are the things my friend sees. But she doesn't see the fearfulness that is inside of me. Reality check: I am fearful.

Here's the thing. Every day I am fearful.  I am fearful about what people will think of me. I'm fearful that I won't be enough. I'm fearful that I will mess up. I am fearful that I...I...I...and this brings me to a realization - most of our fears are about ourselves. They are about our own comfortability or our own pride. On any given day, the fears that come to my mind are always about me.  If I fear a change in my job, the fear is of what it means for me. If I fear losing my home, the fear surrounds what I'm gonna do.  Fear is a me problem.

My friend was right. Fear paralyzes us.  We remain in the crappiest of situations because we fear change, because it easier to stay the same than to change.  What my friends sees as lack of fear in me, I guess I would see as fear under submission.  Let me explain.

Fear is about myself and when I am fearful, I have to remind myself that life is not about me. My faith calls me to lay down my life, my desires, my will for the sake of others.  In those moments that I am paralyzed by fear, I recall the words of Jesus when he said, "greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends" (John 15:13) or "if any of you wants to be my follower, you must turn from  your selfish ways, take up your cross, and follow me." (Matthew 16:24) Fear has it's roots in selfishness. "For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-disicpline." (2 Timothy 1:7) 

Fear is not of God and daily I fight it, as I'm sure you do too. It's not that I am not fearful. I fear all the time and all the time I remind myself that my calling is to love with wreckless abandon of myself. 

Same Old, Same Old

 

As a pastor, I always feel a pressure to do church the way it's always been done by the men before me. And I say men because in my ministry experience, it has been men before me. I wasn't raised in a tradition that affirmed women as equal, not in the home and certainly not in the Church.  Today, I find myself in a denomination that beautifully affirms the work of the Spirit in both women and men. Although there are always individuals who behave otherwise, I have found a home that embraces my call.  Anyways, I always feel the pressure to do church the way it's always been done, to stick within the box and behave as those before me.  This is true of every pastor. Every single one.

That pressure to remain the same dominates most conversations and meetings; however, if we continue to do church the way that it's always been done, then we will get the same results and with time those results will exacerbate and death is inevitable. I'm not necessarily talking about an individual church, although this is true of every body, including my own; but this morning I'm thinking Church universal. 

The Church has lost its prophetic voice. We have settled in fear and comfort-ability. The Church has lost its relevance (and yes, we are supposed to matter to the world); perhaps a better word is that the Church has lost its credibility because we have lost all authenticity. 

At the end of the day, 

I'm not called to the status quo. 

I am called to the mountain top 

     by way of valleys. 

I'm not called to just squeak by on the paths traversed before.

I am called to blaze trails as I run passionately after Jesus 

    and His children in this world. 

I am called to be a city on a hill shining brightly 

and we don't do that with the same old, same old 

because the same old, same old 

has not shined for years. 

It's wick has been extinguished. 

This world needs the Church...

to live out the freedom that we say we have in Christ. 

Our believe and our behave don't match 

because we are 

burdened, 

bogged down, 

bound in slavery 

to the past

be it in 

habits, 

rituals 

or debt. 

This world needs the Church...

to be 

authentically 

broken 

and 

transparently 

redeemed!

The Lights of Vegas

"You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house.  In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven." 

Matthew 5:14-16 

     The Light of the world has come. The Light, being the very Word, became flesh and dwelt among us, and yet that Light expected something of the very creation It came to shine upon.  The One who called light into existence, who placed the stars in the sky and brightened all of creation, calls Its recipients "the light of the world." This Original Light that illuminates is meant to be illuminated in each of us.  Jesus, the Light of the world has come and not only has He said, "whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life," (John 8:12) He has called us "the light of the world."  

We are the light of the world.  

We carry something that is undefinable 

                   and so indescribable. 

We cannot put words to what it means to be a light, 

except to say that this light, 

the light of Jesus equals love. 

And yet, 

when we say love, 

we have no way to adequately express 

              the full breadth of the word.  

What is love? 

What is light? 

I can't say entirely, 

but I can say 

when I see it, I know it  

When I see it, I'm drawn to it, 

         like a moth to a flame  

When I see it, my spirit is warmed by it 

         and it calls me by name, 

drawing me in 

When I see it, I long for it 

And when I touch it, 

    the flame is ignited in me 

and I become the light of the world

A vessel carrying something completely indescribable

A vessel carrying hope  

So why do the lights of Vegas shine brighter than me? than you? than us? 

Yes, of course, they are glass tubes filled with neon and argon, pumped full of electricity, artifically lit. Yes, they were delicately heated, bent and molded to be sculpted into lights that shine for ages, lights that radiate and draw their onlookers in. It is undeniable; the lights of Vegas they do their job.  And I can't help but wonder, if we too aren't delicately heated, bent and molded to be sculpted into lights that shine for ages. But that's just it, if the lights of Vegas shine brighter than The Original Light living in us, than maybe we haven't truly been heated, bent and molded by that Light.  

There is no clearer place in the world to see lights put on stand for everyone to see than Las Vegas.  In complete darkness there is no dark.  And the metaphor of light is lost to those who bear the name of The Original Light, standing on corners with signs joining the darkness and condemning the created light that has figured out how to shine brighter than The Original Light within them; as if the lights of Vegas have somehow wronged The Original Light and it's theirs to judge.  

These signs speak nothing into a world of complete darkness that contains no dark and perhaps are actually perceived as darkness themselves. The signs that stand in judgment are the bowl that hides the Light of the world contained within us. They are not shining a light into darkness; instead, they are submitting to the darkness as the shadow of the towering signs extinguishes the light that is within those holding them. 

We cannot control this Light, yet we often think we can.  We cannot do the work of heating and molding it, even though we try. We can only simply submit to the flame and let it shine in ways we never imagined.  The Original Light ignites in us a light that is meant to be a city on a hill, a beacon of hope and love that calls out to darkness and lives in the midst of darkness, lighting the world. 

We are meant to be the lights of Vegas.  

And we in our brokenness have dimmed the Light.  

Jesus forgive us. Lord, have mercy.