Faith in what?

SCRIPTURE:

"Jesus rebuked the demon, and it came out of the boy, and he was healed from that moment. Then the disciples came to Jesus in private and asked, "Why couldn't we drive it out?" He replied, "Because you have so little faith. I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you."  

~ Matthew 17:18-20

THOUGHTS:

I used to wear a glass pendant around my neck that contained a mustard seed, as a reminder to myself to keep that tiny measure of faith.  In the darkest of hours, it is often hard to do.

A few years back I was teaching at a local rescue mission on this passage.  The women listening were women who knew G-d or at least had an idea of who G-d was. Their understanding of G-d was skewed and marred by their often times horrible experiences with well-meaning Christians. Most had never read the Bible, although it had been used as a weapon against them.  Many had never heard this passage and all of them had never seen a mustard seed. They had imagined in their hearts and minds that this seed that Jesus spoke of must have been huge. It must have been some magical, unobtainable seed that only the most religious, the most righteous, or the least broken could achieve.  And broken they were, so the ability to overcome seemed so out of touch, completely out of the question to their reality.  

The next day, I took a jar of mustard seeds from my pantry and decided I would show them.  A moment that highlighted my privilege - I have a pantry. I have seen a mustard seed. These women never had that chance, until this day.  So I took the jar and I gave each woman this tiny seed without telling them what they were. I just placed one in each of their hands and asked them to hold it, to be careful to not drop it or lose it.  When everyone had theirs in their hand, I said, "If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move.'"

There were not many words that day, mostly tears and silence as these women for the first time realized that Jesus didn't require all that they had thought or all that they had been told.  This idea of faith became in that moment simple to them. It became obtainable to them.  There was nothing magical or out of reach anymore, but instead if they could just muster up a sliver of hope for their future, they could say to the mountains of their lives, 'Move.'

Over and over when Jesus tells us to have faith, I often times wonder who He's asking us to have faith in?  You see, these ladies had no faith in themselves.  Sure, it was easy to know that there is a G-d and we've all heard stories of Jesus. And deep down we all want to believe in a Savior, to believe in something bigger and better than ourselves.  They had no problem believing in G-d. Their problem was believing that there is a G-d who believed in them. Their problem was believing in themselves.

The disciples believed in Jesus. I mean, come on, they gave up everything to follow Him.   They left their families, their jobs, their homes and they followed this rebel Rabbi.  They had faith.  I do not believe for a second that Jesus was accusing them of not believing in Him.  But instead, Jesus was asking them to believe in themselves, to see what He saw in them, to believe that they were worthy and that they could move mountains. 

Can we believe in ourselves? Can we have a sliver of hope, a mustard seed of faith that we can change the world? Or even just that we can change our own destiny? Can we have a mustard seed of faith that allows us to move the mountains of addiction, the mountains of abuse, the mountains of shame and guilt? Can we have a mustard seed of faith to believe that healing and restoration within ourselves and our communities is possible?

That day at the rescue mission these women not only held a mustard seed in their hand, but they opened a piece of their hearts, if only the size of a mustard seed, to believe that they could move mountains. 

ACTION:

  If we can just believe in ourselves enough to realize that we are worthy of love, that we are worthy of restoration, that we are worthy of the fullness of G-d, we can change the world.  May I find the mustard seed within myself and allow it bloom into compassion, mercy and love for our world. 

Doubt in my Soul

It has been a while since I have pulled out "The Inspired Box." So here's one for you.  

SCRIPTURE:

"Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, a conviction of things not seen." 

~ Hebrews 11:1 

THOUGHTS:

We do not have faith in things that are knowable. Faith cannot be simply in things that we know to be true. In fact, the very essence of faith is believing in things you cannot see.  Faith is irrational.  It's not believing in what you know to be true, but instead choosing to believe in what could be absolutely wrong.  Faith cannot exist without some measure of doubt.  If there is no doubt about the thing, then there is no reason to hope for it to be real, because we know that it is.  That is not faith.  That is knowledge of reality.

I have faith in Jesus, not because of facts that add up to faith, but instead because of doubts that over and over lead to hope in things not seen.  My faith is not consumed by knowing things to be true, but instead it is guided by my willingness to embrace what is unknown.  My faith knows doubt and knows it well.

Beyond the vast amounts of doubt in my soul, which I believe are absolutely okay and that Jesus himself doubted "my G-d, my G-d, why have you forsaken me?" ---  I choose to believe that G-d is for me and not against me. I choose to have faith in something I cannot see and ultimately I cannot always explain or even feel.  But I embrace my irrational friend called faith and I let her guide me to hope, to imagination, to creating a better world.  

ACTION:

Faith is not something I can force on someone else. But perhaps in letting people have space to doubt they will find a faith of their own in things that they cannot see.  I want to be creating space where doubt is welcome and faith is fostered.

Sacred Pants

“There is nothing so secular that it cannot be sacred, and that is one of the deepest messages of the Incarnation.” 

― Madeleine L'Engle

The other day a friend and I had to make a trip to Walmart.  We had been working on a project all day and needed one final thing to complete it.  We were a mess. I was wearing my "painting clothes." The whole way there we laughed at how thankfully we were going to Walmart and not the mall because at Walmart we'd fit right in.  I love to paint. I'm not Van Gogh or Monet, but I love to paint walls and houses and sometimes things a little more creative.  Years ago I started wearing the same clothes to paint - a pair of blue sweat pants and a light blue shirt.  Even though I am a very clean painter, the clothes are covered in paint.  Knowing that I wear these "painting clothes" whenever I paint, my friend said, "Your pants are like the Traveling Pants."

Have you ever seen "The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants"? Four lifelong friends have to spend their first summer apart. They go shopping and amazingly they find one pair of jeans that fits each of them perfectly, despite their varied body shapes and sizes.  The girls decide to have shared ownership and these pants spend the summer traveling between them, experiencing family turmoil, first love, tragic loss and lots of exploration.  In the midst of story is the magical element of these pants that saw so much of growing up and learning.

When my friend said, "Your pants are like the Traveling Pants?" It hit me for the first time that I had unintentionally created one of the most sacred items in my possession.

These pants were worn by my husband before I ever knew him, through boot camp, through his time on Active Duty and then through the first several years of our relationship until they no longer fit him or until I grabbed them one day that I wanted to paint a wall and needed something that I didn't care if I ruined.  They were his and they didn't really fit anymore, so that day over 10 years ago they became mine. My painting pants.  Painting pants that I'm sure already had such a deep story. They were pants that had already seen so much in his life.

I never intended for these pants to be anything more than a comfy pair of sweats that I could feel free to wipe my hands on, spill paint on and basically trash.  But the other day on the way to Walmart I was struck with the sacredness of what I was wearing.

You see, these pants have painted every home we have lived in during our nearly 20 years of marriage; two of which no longer are standing. They have painted the nurseries of our children when I was expecting. They have painted the rooms that we have invited people into over and over. These pants have painted the homes of my grandparents, parents and siblings.  Hours have been spent in these pants laughing, crying, and grieving because painting is therapeutic.  These pants have painted three different offices that I have inhabited, each with their own stories.  These pants have painted homeless shelters where they brought hope and new life to women who have been through so much.  These pants have painted the home of a dear friend who couldn't herself because of cancer.  These pants have painted the walls of my church as I have attempted to create sacred space for my community.  I guess in sense you could say, these pants have painted my life.

These pants have become sacred.  And when I look down, I see a rainbow of colors that each hold a sacred moment in my life.

I walked into Walmart that day holding my head high because I was clothed in the sacred and I wouldn't have it any other way.  These pants are sacred because love has been incarnated in every moment of their existence. My painting pants make their own rounds, never worn by others, but always presenting themselves in service to others.  They are my "traveling pants" that have seen so much. Like the pants in the movie, they've seen family turmoil, love, tragic loss and indeed, lots of exploration.  They have grown up with me and in them I have learned so much.