There’s a danger I’m running into that’s similar to a danger many students run in to while in seminary.  The danger is losing your connection with Christ.  I know that sounds crazy, but you get so focused on the task, the days are so long, and the relationships are so new that you begin to neglect the spiritual disciplines.  The week ended much better than it started for me.

I’ve been thinking through my personal lesson to take away from Week 1.  I think it’s that I’m not as great as I think.  I’m surrounded by really talented, gifted, capable and dynamic people from other faith traditions that love God, love others, and are dedicated to living missionally.

It’s easy in our daily lives to get stuck.  We get stuck in the routines and rhythms of life where we consume the mission rather than letting the mission consume us.  What is that mission?  It’s living out our faith in Jesus Christ in such a way that our lives become an act of worship that transforms our world.

1 week down; 12 weeks to go.  Hua

I’m stepping out on faith here.

That’s a dangerous statement.  It’s one of the most dangerous statements that we can make.  On one level, we’re saying that we’re surrendering all we think and do to God.  On another level, we’re saying that no matter what consequences may come, we’re surrendering our right to complain or interfere.

That’s the danger of “I’m stepping out on faith here.”  The implications run deep.  Complete surrender is a totally giving up of our rights to self so that God can completely transform us into the person He’s planned and purposed us to be.

Most of us aren’t really ready to fully step out on faith.  It’s more of a mantra to most of us.  If we truly took a step of faith our world would change.  We would change.

Photo courtesy of Steve Knight, 2008

No one likes difficulty.  Let’s face it, life is difficult.  Troubles, trials, hurt, conflict, and pain come and go as we try to figure out what we’re doing here.  When those difficult days come, what’s our natural inclination?  Fight it.  We do all that we can to scratch our way out of difficulty or avoid it completely.

In Matthew 5:13, Jesus tells us that we are the salt of the earth.  It’s a passage that has been stretch and exegeted within an inch of its life.  The kicker is that that salt didn’t simply decide to be salt.  It was made through a process that transforms the raw material into something ready for consumption.   There are over 14,000 uses for salt, but most of us think of table salt when we think of this verse.

If we really want to become the “salt of the earth” that Jesus has purposed for us, we’re going to have to go through some difficult days.  Without difficult days we can’t truly be transformed.  Allow the difficulty to come, deal with it, and then move on with life.  When we struggle to avoid difficulty we might be missing the greatest transformation of our lives and our culture.

Photo courtesy of Katherine Evans, 2005

If we allow ourselves to be bland in matters of faith, we’ll be bland in matters of culture and pick up the culture around us.  Just like tofu, we’ll take on the characteristics of the culture around us rather than adding something to it.

I often hear that people enjoy being part of a community of faith because it reminds them there’s something bigger in life.  While that’s good, there’s more to it.  Involving yourself in a community of faith is integrating into the culture of the world in a unique way.  When acts of faith become simply a reminder, we run the risk of picking up the traits of the culture we’re attempting to see transformed.

Many of us struggle with the balance of faith expression and living in today’s culture because we’re just like tofu.  We want to pick up the flavors around us rather than allowing God to transform us.  Psalm 34:8 tells us to “Taste and see that the LORD is good.”

Photo courtesy of World’s Healthiest Foods (www.whf.com)

I actually like Tofu.  Granted, I don’t eat it very often and for good reason.  It has no flavor.  It picks up the flavor of everything else.  It’s healthy and a good substitute for other things, but it’s just not something that needs to be the staple of your diet.

It’s easy to become religious tofu.  Instead of taking the time to fully develop your personal theology and belief, we simply pick up what’s around us.  In seminary, whoever taught the class, that’s the perspective I took.  Whatever book I tended to read, that’s the perspective I took.  What’s wrong with that?  A lot.

Don’t become tofu.  Most of my professors, mentors, and favorite authors came up with their ideas and conviction through personal contemplation, study, meditation, and even trial.  We can take on the taste of everything around us, but if it’s not our personal conviction that’s been born from wrestling with God, it’s just a substitute.

Photo courtesy of Robert Aichinger, 2007

Over the past several months I’ve been fascinated with Mary.  I’ve been fascinated by the Roman Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, and other Liturgical forms of worship veneration of her, and I’ve been as equally fascinated in most mainstream Protestant silence when it comes to her.

Looking at her life it’s hard not to be amazed by her faith, her commitment, and her strength.  Her strength is what moves me the most.  Here was a woman who was marked to give birth to the God-man, watch Him grow and ultimately suffer for our sins.  Yet, in all this, she never lost faith in her Son.

If you want a heroine that shows real feminine strength, look again at Mary.

This might sound strange but bear with me …

Over my years in the Church-culture I’ve run into a lot of sexism and probably even advocated or participated in it at some level.  What if much of the sexism in the modern church is the result of not having a clear, defined teaching on Mary?

It’s time to bring Mary from the obscurity of being a supporting cast in a Christmas pageant.  She is part of God’s salvation history, our salvation history, and our story of faith.

Photo courtesy of Simona Balint, 2008

Jesus’ first miracle was turning water into wine at a marriage in Cana.  Mary was there, along with Jesus’ disciples, and the entire community.  During the course of events, Mary turns to the servants and says, “Whatever He tells you to do, just do it.”  She was there supporting her Son in His mission to save the world.

Mary knew her role.  She wasn’t the Messiah.  Jesus was.  She wasn’t the miracle worker.  Jesus was.  She wasn’t the authority.  Jesus was.  She knew her mission was to care for Jesus and help bring others into a place of obedience to Him.  It was a role of support.

We may be the parents, but we need to remember there comes a point where our roles change from primary care giver to one of support.  It’s tough to make that transition, but if we’re to see our children grow, mature, and transform the world for Jesus, it’s one that we have to make.

Photo courtesy of Simona Balint, 2008

There’s an inherent commitment with Mary to her Son.  She was there for His birth, life, and death.  She was there witnessing every moment of Jesus’ life.  There was no event she wasn’t part of either as a participant or an observer.  The high and low events, Mary was there either cheering for her Son or agonizing for her Son.

Mothers are like that.  No matter what occurs in their children’s lives, they’re there walking with their children through the thick of it.  It doesn’t matter if their child is an adolescent or an adult.  They’re still “my little boy” or “my little girl.”  It’s a bond that no one other than a Mom can comprehend.

What’s your commitment like to your children?  Are you willing to walk alongside them when the world supports them and when it rejects them?  It’s tough to think about, but it’s the question that each of us must face as we mature in our role as parents.

Photo courtesy of Sias van Schalkwyk, 2012

One of the chief lessons that we can learn from her life is she took her role seriously.  Now, it’s easy to say that as a mom you always take your role seriously.  She understood that many of us have lost in today’s modern age.

In Luke 2 we read two accounts of Jesus in the temple.  The first is when Jesus is to be consecrated and the second is during the Passover when He was twelve years old.  The two accounts are filled with Mary and Joseph parenting well.

Often we look at our children and want them to make their own decisions concerning faith.  It sounds modern, fair, and intelligent to say, “We’re not pushing our children into our faith.  We want them to explore and make their own decision.”

Our children are looking to us to teach them, guide them, and show them right from wrong.  We have a mandate from God to teach them who He is and how to live a life full of faith.  Mary took her role seriously to ensure the next generation knew the salvation of God.

Photo courtesy of Robert Aichinger, 2007

Yesterday was Mother’s Day.  It’s a day that we pause and celebrate the mom’s in our lives.  They’ve walked with us through life, nurtured us, loved us, and taught us to navigate through life.  What a monumental task Mother has!

When we think about women in the Bible, we think of strong women like Sarah, Hannah, Ruth, Naomi, Esther, Priscilla, Dorcas, and Rahab.  We scan over the pages of Scripture looking for strong feminine influences and examples and miss one woman standing alone and above the rest.  We miss Mary, Jesus’ mother.

One of my favorite Roman Catholic blessings for Mother’s Day contains the line, “Thank you, Jesus, for my mother and her teaching me of Jesus and His ways.  May she live out the grace and piety seen through Mary.”

Maybe because we’re Protestant and are in a weird, unhealthy “cat and dog” relationship with Roman Catholics, but somewhere along the way, we’ve reduced Mary to a minor character in the Biblical story and look for the feminine example elsewhere.