Devotionals

You don’t need to be tired in order to rest

~ Natalie Hart ~ Leave a comment

I’ve been reading the First Nations Version: An Indigenous Translation of the New Testament. And I love it. The translators call it “not a word-for-word translation, but rather it is a thought-for-thought translation,” with naming conventions, word choices, and cultural items being chosen to make it resonate with First Nations readers. For example, in Matthew 13:33, Creator Sets Free (Jesus) tells a story:

Again, think of the good road from above to be like the yeast a grandmother uses when she makes frybread dough. She mixes a little yeast into three big batches of flour. Then the yeast spreads throughout the dough, causing it to rise.

This is what that verse is in the New Living Translation: “The Kingdom of Heaven is like the yeast a woman used in making bread. Even though she put only a little yeast in three measures of flour, it permeated every part of the dough.”

I love the swap of “good road from above” for “kingdom of heaven,” because I know what it is to be on a good road, but kingdoms asks me to do some cultural context work. I’m enjoying the use of titles or what the name means for every person and every place that is mentioned. And those little touches, like referring to fry bread, help me come to the stories fresh, even though I’ve read them many times. Seeing different cultural contexts in familiar verses make me realize how specific the ancient Israelite culture was that the Bible was written in.

This translation has a Prologue, which I loved, and I normally resent Prologues. They take a few pages to put the New Testament in context by telling the story of Creator and human beings and the treaties they made with each other and how human beings keep breaking them and Creator keeps seeking restoration. The line that got me was this:

On the seventh day the Great Spirit rested from his work of creation, not because he was tired but because he was finished.

Not because he was tired but because he was finished

It made me tear up because I realized that I’ve been conflating the Jesus is rest for the weary verse and the God resting on the seventh day verse. We are often weary, especially spiritually weary from trying to fit into the boxes religious communities make for us. And Jesus’ perfect love provides rest from that business. But nowhere in the Bible does it say that in order to rest, we must be weary, that only the tired get to rest.

The New Living Translation also highlights that God rested because the work of creation was finished. God’s work in general wasn’t done. Just that part. And he rested. But there was something about how the First Nations Versions put it that flipped the switch for me.

So why do I twist myself into knots trying to figure out when I’ve done enough to deserve rest? Why do I withhold it from my own self until I’m exhausted and snapping at everyone I love? Why questions don’t have easy answers, so while I pursue them, I’m making this my new mantra:

You don’t need to be tired in order to rest

When you’re in a goo time

Photo by Dan Cristian Pădureț on Unsplash
~ Natalie Hart ~ 2 Comments
Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@dancristianpaduret?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Dan Cristian Pădureț</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/photos/mAvD5iOVMZE?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a>

We love to talk about caterpillars turning into butterflies. It’s such an encouraging story that we totally make about ourselves:

Even though you may start out crawling on your belly in the dirt, eventually your true colors will emerge and your wings will unfurl and you will fly like you were always meant to.

That’s glamorous.

But that isn’t what happens to caterpillars. They don’t enter chrysalis and curl up in there all cozy growing wings.

They become goo.

Whatever is happening while the caterpillar transforms is not pretty. It digests itself. If it happened without the protection of the chrysalis on our deck or sidewalk, we’d probably think something had decomposed or rotted and we’d spray it away with the hose so we wouldn’t have to look at it anymore.

But the caterpillar is supposed to become goo. Turning into soup is a crucial part of the transformation. We know this, but it’s also mysterious.

Which makes me think of the events my Christian tradition remembers this weekend. Today (Good Friday) we commemorate Jesus’s death and his three days being dead before God makes him alive again (Easter). What happened 2000+ years ago for these three days is a mystery. We get hints from what Jesus said while he was on the cross.

At about three o’clock, Jesus called out with a loud voice, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” which means “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?

Matthew 27:46 (NLT)

So Jesus was alone, abandoned by the father who he always felt in complete oneness with.

But the other criminal protested, “Don’t you fear God even when you have been sentenced to die? We deserve to die for our crimes, but this man hasn’t done anything wrong.” Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your Kingdom.”

And Jesus replied, “I assure you, today you will be with me in paradise.”

Luke 23:40-43 (NLT)

At some point of time, Jesus would be in paradise.

But the specifics are a mystery.

Whatever happened to Jesus changed him so much that people who had followed him didn’t recognize him. Mary Magdalene sees him when he’s alive again and thinks he’s the gardener; she doesn’t recognize him until he says her name. The men on the road to Emmaus walked and talked with him for hours and didn’t recognize him until he broke bread in front of them.

We don’t know what Jesus was doing during those 3 days, so I like to think of him as in his goo time — in between his ministry on earth and his ministry untethered to the soil, transitioning from his time as fully-human-and-fully-divine to fully divine. What form did he take? Was it painful? Pleasant? When did he return to oneness with the Father?

Maybe I like to think of it as Jesus’s goo time because I experience goo times, too.

I’m going through one right now, when I know what was but I don’t know what will be and I feel all messy and chaotic and anxious but also hopeful.

Both Jesus and the butterfly get through their goo times in similar ways.

  • There’s no rushing the process. Jesus said it would take 3 days, so it took 3 days. Caterpillars have different chrysalis periods, depending on whether the conditions are right for the caterpillar to feed and reproduce. It might take a few weeks, or it might take a few years. I hate this. Because I have no idea how long my goo time is going to last and a number of steps are not up to me.
  • Trust that you have what you need. Jesus understood what was going to happen to him. It’s why he didn’t want to do it, and why he also submitted to it. He knew he had what he needed to get through it. A caterpillar has all the genetic material it needs to digest and then transform itself. I hate this slightly less. Because I know that I have the love and the presence of God, and the gift of the Holy Spirit, and the intercession of Jesus. And people who love me. And a whole lot of actual things that I need. I have worked through goo times before. Still, it’s not exactly fun to be soup.

How do you get through your goo times? Does it annoy you that sometimes you don’t get much of a waiting period between said goo times? Just me?

Do Christians follow their leader or his first followers?

screengrab of Derek Sivers How to Start a Movement
~ Natalie Hart ~ Leave a comment

This short TED Talk (Derek Sivers’s, “How to Start a Movement”) tells the story of a man dancing alone at a music festival, how first one person joined him, and then another, until crowds were running to join the dance. It’s only 3 minutes long and kind of funny.

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I’m always struck by this observation: “New followers emulate the followers, not the leader.” I can’t help but think of Jesus and his first followers, who constantly got him wrong even though they had him right there with them.

They left everything to follow him but didn’t understand who he was

They’d been with Jesus for some time, watching him heal and preach, and argue with religious leaders. One day, when they were sailing across a lake, a dangerous storm came up. The followers wake up the napping Jesus, who tells off the wind and waves, which makes them calm.

The disciples were terrified and amazed. “Who is this man?” they asked each other. “When he gives a command, even the wind and waves obey him!” (Luke 8:25)

Peter is the only one who will say it out loud

In Luke, after they feed the 5,000 with 5 loaves of bread and 2 fish, Jesus asks them point blank who they think he is, and only one gives the answer:

One day Jesus left the crowds to pray alone. Only his disciples were with him, and he asked them, “Who do people say I am?”

“Well,” they replied, “some say John the Baptist, some say Elijah, and others say you are one of the other ancient prophets risen from the dead.”

Then he asked them, “But who do you say I am?”

Peter replied, “You are the Messiah sent from God!” (Luke 9:18-20)

I imagine all of them silent and nervous about Jesus’s question, either because they aren’t sure or they’re afraid to get it wrong, and then Peter blurts it out (as he often does).

They are obsessed with greatness

Jesus ate with the despised and rejected, healed people no matter their socio-economic status, and constantly beefed with the authorities, but his first followers were obsessed with greatness. In Matthew 18 they ask Jesus who was the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven. In Mark 9 Jesus confronts them about their “who’s the greatest” argument on the road. In Luke 9 they argue about which of them was the greatest. In Luke 22 (at the Last Supper) they argue about who would be the greatest. In each instance, Jesus gives a similar response:

“Whoever wants to be first must take last place and be the servant of everyone else.” Then he put a little child among them. Taking the child in his arms, he said to them, “Anyone who welcomes a little child like this on my behalf welcomes me, and anyone who welcomes me welcomes not only me but also my Father who sent me.” (Mark 9:35-37)

He even has to correct his first followers for preventing parents from bringing children to him to be blessed: “Let the children come to me. Don’t stop them! For the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to those who are like these children” (Matthew 19:14).

They didn’t get that his theology was so different from what they grew up with

When the followers see a man blind from birth, their question to Jesus, “Who sinned, this man or his parents?” sounds odd to our ears, but reveals their theological assumption: if you are sick or suffering, it’s a punishment for something you’ve done or something your family has done–you deserve it. But Jesus says something radical:

“It was not because of his sins or his parents’ sins,” Jesus answered. “This happened so the power of God could be seen in him.” (John 9:2-3)

This was a radical healing all around. By making it so a man born blind could not only see, but understand what he was seeing, Jesus put everyone around this man in a tizzy. He got dragged in front of the Pharisees, some of whom were upset because this healing took place on the Sabbath (when nobody was supposed to work) while others thought the healer must be from God. They hauled in his parents to ask them what they thought of this Jesus who healed him. Kept grilling the man, who could only repeat what his experience was until they threw him out of the synagogue.

They didn’t get that he challenged the status quo on purpose

Jesus has been arguing with the Pharisees about what makes a person “unclean” or “defiled.” The Pharisees ask him about ritual hand cleaning and Jesus ups the ante by talking about how what you say reveals the state of your heart. Jesus draws a crowd to tell them,

“It’s not what goes into your mouth that defiles you; you are defiled by the words that come out of your mouth.”

Then the disciples came to him and asked, “Do you realize you offended the Pharisees by what you just said?” (v.11-12)

He sure did! He already told the Pharisees, “you cancel the word of God for the sake of your own tradition. You hypocrites!” And goes on to call them the blind leading the blind. The followers’ “do you realize you offended the Pharisees” is kinda sweet, but reveals that they didn’t understand Jesus’s ministry.

One of them betrayed him

Judas has always sounded to me like a disillusioned true believer: Jesus wasn’t who Judas thought he was, so he set Jesus up so the authorities could arrest him. In Matthew, the last straw for Judas seems to be when Jesus allows the woman to anoint his feet with very expensive oil. But whatever it was, he goes to the people plotting to kill Jesus and offers to hand him over. Then he follows through and does it.

Even Jesus seems surprised 

At the Last Supper, when Jesus is trying to sum up his entire ministry for the disciples who will be charged with spreading his message, his followers are still confused about who Jesus is.

Philip said, “Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.”

Jesus replied, “Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and yet you still don’t know who I am? Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father! So why are you asking me to show him to you? Don’t you believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me?  (John 14:8-11) 

They never understood what the kingdom was

Even at the very end of Jesus’ time on earth, post-resurrection, his closest followers still didn’t get what he was all about:

 So when the apostles were with Jesus, they kept asking him, “Lord, has the time come for you to free Israel and restore our kingdom?” (Acts 1:6) 

They were with him for 3 years, hearing him speak, able to ask him anything, sharing meals, travelling the country, hanging out with him after he died, and they still didn’t understand that Jesus was not about kicking out the Romans and restoring Israel’s political power.

So what about us?

We’re supposed to be following Jesus, not the first followers. But we’re only human. Like they were. It seems inevitable that we would be like those first followers: not understanding who Jesus is and what he’s about, obsessed with the wrong things, not grasping just how deeply Jesus challenges rules-based religion.

Sivers wants his listeners to embrace the crucial role that first followers play:

“First follower is an underrated form of leadership…. Have the courage to follow and show others how to follow.”

For Christians, I’d change it a little:

“Have the courage to follow the leader (Jesus) and show others how to follow the leader (not you).”

I’m glad we’ve got the example of the disciples and all the ways they get things right and wrong. It means we get to be aware of our human tendencies to get obsessed with the wrong things and to see Jesus through our own cultural lenses. But we are also aware that we are to be Christlike, not disciplelike. We are to be first followers, ourselves, enticing others to join the dance. 

Oh to be nourished like a tree by a riverside

The wide, even growth rings of a well nourished tree that grew by a river.
~ Natalie Hart ~ Leave a comment

 

Oh, the joys of those who … delight in the law of the Lord,
    meditating on it day and night.
They are like trees planted along the riverbank,
    bearing fruit each season. (Psalm 1:1-2)

I love this image of people fed so consistently by the Word of God that they have a healthy spirituality — strong and flexible, able to withstand adversity, resistant to theological diseases and pests, bearing fruit that makes a difference in their relationships and their world.

Bearing fruit

In the past, I’ve focused on the “bearing fruit in each season” part, making posters with Sunday school kids of a tree by a riverbank that is bearing every kind of fruit we could think of. A poster of a well nourished tree by the riverside growing every kind of fruit, drawn by Sunday school kids.

This involved a bit of biblical sleight-of-hand. The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, and self-control. Because the singular fruit is many traits, which are all supposed to be growing in and through us, we could illustrate that idea through one tree with many fruits.

Being nourished

But then I saw this tree stump at my parents’ property.

The wide, even growth rings of a well nourished tree that grew by a river.

Now I can’t get it out of my head. Every single growth ring is the same, wide size.

The growth rings of a wee nourished tree that grew by a river are wider than my thumb.

This tree grew where a stream flowed into a river. It was constantly nourished, always receiving what it needed for good growth. So it grew steadily.

My own spiritual development has tended to be more like this tree’s, slow and inconsistent:

The uneven growth rings of a tree that grew in a crowded forest.

This tree grew in a crowded forest, near the top of a long hill. The rings are much closer together, and they vary in width, showing the effect of variations in precipitation and light.

Growth is still growth

Both trees have something in common, though: they grew.

Is it terrible to grow slowly and unevenly like the tree in the forest? No. It was well over 100 years old before it was cut down. It provided beauty and shade, sucked in carbon dioxide and pumped out oxygen, and fed countless birds and insects in its lifetime. Those are good fruits.

Is it better to grow quickly? No. One of my cousins still remembers the year he grew 6″ in a year–the aches and pains kept him up at night. And anyone who pays attention to tech news knows of plenty of companies that grew fast with loads of buzz and venture capital and then tanked just as quickly when consumers didn’t respond.

Does it just sound better to be consistently nourished like a tree that grows by the riverside? Yes. 

The frustrating part is that it’s on me that I’m not that riverside tree. I don’t meditate on the Word day and night. I don’t regularly choose to rest in God’s presence. Oh, I’ve had those seasons of wide-ring growth, and they were good. Well, the actual season was often horrible, but I remember how my spirit felt–strong and flexible, able to withstand adversity, resistant to theological diseases and pests, bearing fruit that made a difference in my relationships and my world.

I’m going to put the riverside tree photo where I can see it every day to remind myself of the difference consistent nourishment makes.

Do whatever you need to do

An image of red ribbons inscribed with prayers in an Art Prize entry
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An image of red ribbons inscribed with prayers in an Art Prize entry

“Listen, O Israel! The Lord is our God, the Lord is one. And you must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your strength. And you must commit yourselves wholeheartedly to these commands that I am giving you today. Repeat them again and again to your children. Talk about them when you are at home and when you are on the road, when you are going to bed and when you are getting up. Tie them to your hands and wear them on your forehead as reminders. Write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.   (Deuteronomy 6:4-9)

This reminds me of when my children were in middle school and kept not doing assignments:

Write it in your planner when your teacher tells you to. Open your planner as soon as you get home. Keep it out until you’re finished. Check your homework and your backpack every day. Listen to your teacher. Talk to me about what you need. Ask questions if you don’t understand. Do whatever you need to do to so you actually do your homework!

The passage reeks of desperation.

Which makes sense.

The Israelites are gathered on the East bank of the Jordan River. It’s been 40 years since they escaped from slavery in Egypt — 40 years instead of 40ish days because of their repeated disobedience and fear-based decisions. They are getting ready to finally claim the land that God promised them, but first Moses tells them their history from his and God’s perspective.

It’s not a glowing report.

They quarreled, and complained, and rebelled over and over and over. Yes, they took that first step into the Red Sea and watched it part so they could walk through to freedom, but no encouragement to trust God worked after that. Their fear and anxiety got in their own way again and again.

Moses also reminds them of all the ways that God kept showing up–feeding them, guiding them, empowering their leaders, listening to their complaints, displaying his glory, speaking to them, giving them victories in battle.

When Moses retells the story of the giving of the ten commandments he notes that, “The Lord our God made a covenant with us at Mount Sinai. The Lord did not make this covenant with our ancestors, but with all of us who are alive today (Deut. 5:2-3).” God is in relationship with them now, them specifically.

And all God asks is that the people trust him, that they love him, and that they live out love and trust. Moses asks that they remember what God has done for and with them and what he has promised to do for and with them, and that they tell themselves and their children those stories regularly — because that remembering and telling will help them trust and obey God.

The stories we tell ourselves are important.

So let’s feel Moses’ desperation for us to live up to our end of the covenant and do whatever we need to do to remember what God has done for and with us, what God has promised to do for and with us. Download an app, download 5 apps, stack a Bible reading habit with a habit you already have, make a mental list, make a physical list, post the list on your wall, write it on a ribbon, stuff it in a jar, keep it in the notes in your phone, talk it out while on a walk, take photos that remind you.

You are God’s beloved, his child, his treasure. You don’t have to do anything to earn God’s love, but remembering and telling your specific stories will help you trust God, love God, and live out that love and trust.

What do you do to help you remember your history with God?

 

 

 

What if you had what you need?

Parents encourage a child to learn to walk like God encouraged us to follow him.
~ Natalie Hart ~ 2 Comments

Parents encourage a child to learn to walk like God encouraged us to follow him.

This command I am giving you today is not too difficult for you, and it is not beyond your reach. It is not kept in heaven, so distant that you must ask, ‘Who will go up to heaven and bring it down so we can hear it and obey?’ It is not kept beyond the sea, so far away that you must ask, ‘Who will cross the sea to bring it to us so we can hear it and obey?’ No, the message is very close at hand; it is on your lips and in your heart so that you can obey it. (Deuteronomy 30:11-14, NLT)

Sometimes those of us who want to encourage people towards a deep, vibrant faith complicate matters. Pray all the time! (OK, that one’s on Paul.) Pray this way! Pray the Psalms! Pray this other way! Read your Bible every day! Using bullet journaling! Here’s a great devotional! You have to go through this devotional! Do this spiritual practice! And this one! And this other one! Read this book! This book will change your life! Join a small group! And another one! Talk to people about your faith! Listen to people about their faith! Be quiet with God! Be loud for God! Be a leader at home! At school! At work! At church! Tell everyone you know about Jesus! Tithe to your church! Give to this good cause! And this one! And this one! Work for justice in this area! And this one! And this other one! These Christians are in trouble! And these! Help the poor! And the downtrodden! Don’t even think bad thoughts! No swearing! Be generous! Be grateful all the time!

And that’s without the cultural pressures your brand of Christianity puts on you to look, talk, act, and be a certain way.

Complicated. Exhausting. Confusing.

Which is why I always appreciate it when the Bible itself strips all that away. What God wants

  • isn’t too hard for you.
  • is close at hand.
  • is on your lips already.
  • is in your heart already.

This makes me smile a little, because God recognizes that what God asks of us will be hard at times — but not so hard that we can’t do it.

Imagine a parent with an almost-toddler who is learning to walk: the parent’s wide-open encouraging smile, the “you can do it”s; the child’s drive to learn this new thing, to get to the enticing object, drawn towards those open arms (ready to catch them if they fall). That’s what I see here. God is smiling at us saying, “You can do it. It’s hard, but not too hard. It’s even something you already want to do. I will help you.”

What is the it? The command?

Oh nothing but “loving the Lord your God, obeying him, and committing yourself firmly to him” (Deut. 30:20).

I see the middle flowing out of the other two–loving and being committed to the Lord makes us want to obey him, puts the desire to obey him on our lips and in our hearts. Don’t forget: God’s grace covers all our failures of obedience. Many heroes of the faith committed 10 Commandment-level failures to obey, but their commitment to the Lord was firm, their love of the Lord sustained them. And God stayed in relationship (in covenant) with them.

This  passage doesn’t mention the Holy Spirit, but it’s also the Spirit’s job to tell us about the love of God, to put the desire to obey God on our lips and in our hearts. So we have an additional helper.

You have what you need to follow God.

So when you feel the complicating pressure of all those voices that tell you what you should do and how you should be, take a breath and remember:

What God wants

  • isn’t too hard for you.
  • is close at hand.
  • is on your lips already.
  • is in your heart already.

The Beauty of Lent: Art and Bible Pairings

~ Natalie Hart ~ Leave a comment

For Lent this year I’m doing a new thing: the devotional, Vincent Van Gogh and the Beauty of Lent. I feel so worn down by the state of the world, by constant flux and big changes at my church, by my car being in the shop for over a month after a small fender-bender, that I couldn’t bear to give anything up for Lent. Instead, I’m adding a practice that involves looking at light and color and the gorgeous art of Van Gogh.

One of the most intriguing questions so far is:

If you were to depict the idea that the Holy Spirit moves through both Scripture and the arts, how would you compose the picture? To what page would the Bible be opened? And what work of art would you place beside it?

The Van Gogh painting that week was Still Life with Bible (above). The Van Gogh family Bible is open to Isaiah 53, which talks about salvation coming through a suffering servant. The book near the Bible (Vincent’s own copy of Emile Zola’s Joie de Vivre) is about a woman who was orphaned and undergoes adversity and harm–a modern-day suffering servant. While some see this painting as Van Gogh contrasting the heavy religion of his father with his own faith. Others (including the devotional writers) as Van Gogh pointing out two strains of the same idea: the raising up of a suffering servant.

This activity captured my imagination. Here are a couple of pairings of artwork and the Bible passage I’ve thought of (note, these will not be beautiful, and probably not even visually interesting, I am a word person, not a visual artist).

Thankfulness

I’d pair Colossians 2:6 with Fire Keeper’s Daughter, by Angeline Boulley. The main character, Daunis, is the most striking fictional practitioner of the spiritual discipline of gratitude I’ve ever read. She has a Native American father and a white mother, and while she grapples with her sense of belonging in both communities, she embraces and lives out the Anishinaabe spirituality she has learned. She is grounded by her practices and she overflows with gratitude, even while facing traumatic events.

Colossians 2:7 NLT

Let your roots grow down into [Christ Jesus, your Lord], and let your lives be built on him. Then your faith will grow strong in the truth you were taught, and you will overflow with thankfulness.

Love

In February, my father turned 80. After his cancer diagnosis last year, right as they were moving and downsizing from their house of 20 years, and the subsequent removal of his bladder, we would’ve done anything he wanted for his birthday — including watching a 2-hour-38 minute-long serious movie. So he finally got us to watch the 2012 film of Les Miserables. As the last gorgeous strains of the music played, he said, “That film sums up my theology.” In the line: “To love another person is to see the face of God.” Yes. It is beautiful theology. And the songs are still running through my head, over two weeks later.

I’ve paired it here with 1 John 4:12, 16-17:

No one has ever seen God. But if we love each other, God lives in us, and his love is brought to full expression in us…. God is love, and all who live in love live in God, and God lives in them. And as we live in God, our love grows more perfect. 

Hope

I’m thinking about this pairing, but I don’t have anything solid yet.

Last month, I asked God to strengthen my hope muscle. It had gone flabby due to disuse. He’s done it by throwing article after article, meme after meme, poem after poem, photo after photo at me, all about hope. It’s starting to work.

Your turn. Are there any Bible verses and art expressions you’d pair as expressing the same spirit? Do you have something to share that could strengthen my hope muscle?

God knows you need a friend

~ Natalie Hart ~ Leave a comment
An image of hands from two different women, one lighter-skinned, one darker-skinned, their pinkies are clasped.

I’ve read and taught the story of Jesus’ birth SO many times, but noticed something new this week. I noticed what Mary did after the angel Gabriel called her favored, told her the Lord was with her, and dropped the big news about Jesus:

A few days later Mary hurried to the hill country of Judea, to the town where Zechariah lived. She entered the house and greeted Elizabeth.

Luke 1:39-40

She hurried. To the one person who would know how she felt.

Think about Mary. She was between 13 and 16 and a shining light-being had just told her that not only was the Holy Spirit going to get her pregnant, but also that the resulting child would be holy, be called the Son of God, and would reign over Israel forever in an unending kingdom. Some of the words used for her reaction are:

  • confused
  • disturbed
  • troubled
  • greatly troubled
  • perplexed
  • thoroughly shaken.

One of the kids in my Zoom Sunday school this week used the phrase freaked out. I like that because news can be good and still freak you out. Although she wound up telling the angel, “I am the Lord’s servant. May everything you have said about me come true,” I’d guess that those feelings remained. But Gabriel also told her that her relative Elizabeth was six months pregnant despite decades of being unable to conceive, “for nothing is impossible with God.”

So Mary does what teenage girls have always done: she ran to someone who knew how she felt. Did Mary even tell her mother about this astonishing news? Could she bring herself to say the words out loud to a sister? It’s an enormous thing that will be happening to her, and siblings are not always known for being agreeable when one of their number is suddenly elevated. But Elizabeth’s pregnancy was miraculous, too, so Mary hurried to her.

What a normal reaction from this girl. And so wise. She’s about to go through some serious changes, physical and spiritual, and Elizabeth can help her. When we’re facing change, isn’t that what we often do, too? Seek out someone who’s been there before, someone who can give us the benefit of their experience, or can at least tell us we’re not nuts for feeling the way we do.

When my marriage exploded I sought out other divorced women and was grateful when people who’d had a family member arrested for a sex crime reached out to me. I needed to see that it was possible to get through what my kids and I were going through. And I needed to talk openly about what I was thinking and feeling without trying to protect anyone–people who’d gone through something similar were the only ones I could do that with. So I appreciate Mary’s instinct in hurrying to the hill country of Judea.

Immediately, Elizabeth is filled with the Holy Spirit and encourages Mary:

Elizabeth gave a glad cry and exclaimed to Mary, “God has blessed you above all women, and your child is blessed. Why am I so honored, that the mother of my Lord should visit me? When I heard your greeting, the baby in my womb jumped for joy. You are blessed because you believed that the Lord would do what he said.”

Luke 1:42-45

It’s after this that we get Mary’s great song of praise, her Magnificat, where she praises God for what he’s done not only for her, but also for the hungry and the humble, and for keeping his promises. I think that’s significant. Mary needed that encouragement from Elizabeth, that confirmation of the angel’s words, and she needed the presence of the Holy Spirit to tip the scales to the “Wow” side of her reaction to the angel’s news. I’d never noticed before that the visit to Elizabeth came so quickly and comes before the Magnificat.

God knows we need friends. We need people we can reach out to when we’re going through something big. We need those holy encouragers. I love that God had the angel tell Mary about Elizabeth. He didn’t leave her alone with this giant news; he pointed her to a friend. Mary stayed with Elizabeth for three months.

I wonder about that time. Did Elizabeth tell Mary what it was like being an object of extra attention during an unusual pregnancy? Because you know people are not always kind about their comments. Did they pray for their children and for the job the Lord had in store for each of them? Did they pray for each other, that they’d have the strength to raise these sons with important futures? Did they go long days not talking about it, relaxed because there were no secrets between them? Did they joke about it?

We are all going through something big right now. The pandemic has changed how we work, how we learn, who we can see, whether we can gather, how we go about in the world. Maintaining physical distancing has meant we are more isolated at a time when we need each other more than ever. And in cold climates, winter means outdoor gatherings are becoming rarer.

So what is your version of running to the hill country of Judea? Zoom calls? Texts? Private Facebook groups? Facetime? Among Us? Walks? Driving to a parking lot and sitting in side-by-side running cars with the windows open so you can talk? Whatever it is, don’t neglect it. And don’t stop looking for new ways to be there for each other. Reach out to people you can be your full self with. It might tip the scales away from full freak-out, and maybe even all the way to hope.

Spiritual math is weird

~ Natalie Hart ~ Leave a comment

a math equation, written by a doctor of physics, that I cannot understand

Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30 NLT)

Read the passage again.

Did you notice Jesus saying that all we who are weary would get to put down our heavy burdens and carry his light one instead?

I didn’t either.

Which makes this an odd passage, but also right. Because his listeners had many burdens they couldn’t put down:

  • scraping out a subsistence living
  • paying ever-increasing taxes
  • being subjects of Rome
  • if a slave or a woman, being unable to make choices to determine your fate
  • miscarriage and infertility
  • social stigma
  • illness
  • injury
  • physical disability.

As do we:

  • poverty and job insecurity
  • paying ever-increasing taxes
  • many people live in dangerous and violent situations
  • racism
  • slaves (aka victims of human trafficking) unable to make choices to determine their fate
  • miscarriage and infertility
  • social stigma
  • addiction
  • mental illness
  • although we’ve made astonishing advances in medicine, people must still live with chronic illnesses, and with the side-affects of surgeries and medicines.

Although there were and are miraculous healings, and people being cured of addictions and illnesses, and injuries disappearing, and relationships being restored, and wombs opening — not everyone who asks gets healed; justice does not always come.

And Jesus tells us to add his yoke to the burdens we already carry.

our burdens + Jesus’s yoke = rest for our souls

That’s some weird spiritual math (weirder than the actual equation in the post image). But it’s true.

Somehow, the love and comfort and strength of God makes a difference. Our burdens may still be heavy, but we can bear them, or we can bear them differently, because we can share them with Jesus and with others who also love Jesus. We can experience deep rest during prayer, or worship, or communing with God in whatever way he reaches us. And somehow we can go on, and even thrive, with our burdens.

I cannot explain it, but I’ve found it to be true. I’ve had a year of horrible and crushing burdens that I never imagined carrying and didn’t have the choice to put down, but the love of God and of those who also love God sustained me. And those burdens lightened. They are still there, but a year later, they don’t weigh me down like they did.

Happily, we don’t need to explain this weird spiritual math to trust that it’s true, and to keep choosing to add Jesus’s yoke to our burdens and thereby find rest for our souls.* 

 

 

* This passage is often interpreted as being about the heavy burdens of religious rigamarole, but Jesus usually spoke on a number of levels, so I think this works, too.

 

Not really about doing

~ Natalie Hart ~ 2 Comments

An image of a person standing alone before an impressive night sky. Not really about doing, a devotional about Philippians 4, verses 11-14.

I have learned how to be content with whatever I have. I know how to live on almost nothing or with everything. I have learned the secret of living in every situation, whether it is with a full stomach or empty, with plenty or little. For I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength. Even so, you have done well to share with me in my present difficulty. (Philippians 4:11-14, NLT)

Paul here is thanking the Philippian church for sending him material help of some kind, most likely while he was in jail (as to which time he was in jail, there is no agreement). Essentially, he’s saying, “I’ve got Jesus, so I’m not in a panic about how things are right now, even though they’re not going well, but you are fine and generous people to want to take care of me.”

This is the context of a triumphal verse also translated as, “I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me,” often quoted as a push to overcome obstacles, to do great things, to become a high achiever. But seen within Paul’s story, it isn’t about overcoming or achieving or greatness. It may not even really be about doing.

  • endure I can endure all things…
  • thrive I can thrive despite anything…
  • bear I can bear anything…

It’s tough to come up with an alternate word, because the tone of the passage implies neither soaring success, nor white-knuckled, teeth-gritted survival. Paul is content.

This verse is less about what he can do, and more about who he is.

No matter what his circumstances, he is the adopted brother of Jesus and son of the God who created the universe. No matter what, he is resting in that grace. So he doesn’t rely on his circumstances to tell him what his worth is. He is content whether he’s staying with friends who take care of him, confined to a dungeon jail, surviving a shipwreck, fleeing an angry mob, or speaking to fellow believers. He is content enough to, after receiving a beating, sing while in jail, and when an earthquake destroys the building, stay put so the jailer doesn’t suffer because all his prisoners have escaped.

So how does Christ give him strength to be content like that?
It’s a mystery that can only be solved by asking for strength yourself.

 

 

(Thank you to Steve Austin for his insights: I don’t want to do all things.)