Questions from NYC ala Brehm Center

You may remember a few months ago I posted some questions for your consideration.  This week, as we went around the group to introduce ourselves to one another, I couldn't help but really stand on that leg for a moment.  I want to know what the questions are, specifically for people who are in my position, or positions similar to mine.  What are we dealing with?  Struggling with? What have we learned the hard way, and what were we graced to know without having to pay a costly price to learn?

The questions are beginning to take shape.  And I may post some of what I discover as comments to this post, but like I asked before:

What are your questions?
Be Specific.
Seriously.
What are your questions?

For less than a dollar a day, you can neglect this child

"For the record, minimum wage in Honduras is over a dollar an hour. The rest of Central America is similar.On the off chance you care."

This was a tweet-response that a classmate of mine wrote today as we hit some final topics in our Theology and Culture, while the professor talked about Globalization.  And my immediate response was to jokingly say who does care?  Not because that's what I actually think, but that's how I think we actually operate.  


But then the thought occurred to me.  We get outraged (or pretend to be) by the unequal distribution of wealth.  And I think that reveals an underlying worship of money.  We see our global neighbors living in squalor, and if we're motivated enough, we throw some money at them--or try to.  And how much actually gets to where we think it needs to go, anyway?  How much is our belief system Money Will Make It All Better actually working?


I don't really see money as the actual source of happiness and well-being. Quality of life is not exclusively linked to finances.


So when I see my friend's comment about the wages in Central America, I don't get particularly outraged or saddened.  What I want to know is, do they have access to education? Health care?  Sanitation? Avenues of communication? Vaccines? Clean water? Governments and police forces run with far less corruption?


But Nicky, you say, those things take money.  And yes, that can't be gotten away from, in the current state of our world. But what I am saying, is that if we simply send more money, or get the minimum wage to be doubled in Honduras, the problems aren't going to go away. 


I'm asking, what will it take to improve the quality of life for those people who make $1 per hour? I'm suggesting it will take more than our money.  It takes our participation.  It takes our community. 

At that point, we can bring our cash with us if we like.

Are you Lazy? (confession 4)

Man, sometimes I feel like the laziest person I know.

I live with two other women, and we're all quite different from one another.  Both of my roommates put me to shame when it comes to focus.  They both always seem to be studying, or getting lots of other things done.  One of my roommates has commented on several occasions that since I've moved into the apartment, she feels like she's been on a nearly non-stop vacation.  She means it as a complement, but I can't help but feel the indictment in it too.

Let's add to the equation, that the sermon series for the last few weeks at my church has been Fresh Start (it's good stuff. listen to it here).  This series among other things, has been challenging us to recognize where we may've dropped the ball --perhaps in 2009-- and encouraging us to get back on track in 2010.  Hey, there's no shame in placing a sermon series at the top of the new year that hopefully capitalizes on our desire to start a new year off on the right foot.

All totaled. I feel like a lazy lump.  Over the last few months, my to do lists seem to be less and less crossed off.  I'll even confess that I may have avoided making a list (literal or metaphorical) on a few occasions, just so I wouldn't have to face it unfinished at the end of the day. 

But, I keep returning to God on this topic, and we're working on some things together.

So, do you feel lazy? Are you doing anything about it?

The Paradox of the Mourning Christian

Tomorrow, the Fuller community will gather together to mourn. Over the Christmas break Ruth Vuong,  Dean of Students, suddenly passed away. 

There are many people on campus who knew Dean Vuong personally, and many who did not. Personally, I only had the privilege of meeting her on a couple of occasions.  Yet even to someone who did not really know her personally, her loss is nearly tangible on campus, as the community collectively mourns.  I do not need to have been in personal relationship with her to know how this feels.  We all have experienced loss, haven't we?


Loss and mourning are strange creatures, especially for Christians. At times, it seems wrong to be sad, to mourn, to feel the pain of loss over another Christian.  After all, no matter the specifics of our theology of Heaven, we all basically understand that death isn't the end, right? Don't we know, somehow, that if she goes to heaven, and we go to heaven then that means we'll be together again? Isn't that what we believe? And if it is, then why are we sad?  Afterall, haven't we all heard the saying, "it's not good bye, it's see you later"? So why do we still mourn?  Does it betray us, showing what little faith we actually have? Or is it something else?

This gets me to thinking about Lazarus; well more specifically about Jesus and Lazarus. Jesus stood at the tomb, knew what he was about to do, and how did he respond? He wept. Jesus wept knowing he was about to restore Lazarus. 

I don't think our mourning betrays our faith. We have lost years of opportunity for relationship with Ruth Vuong. Opportunities to create memories, to benefit from her wisdom, to have shared experiences, to get to know her.  It is our loss, and it is right to acknowlege it. We are created for relationship and community, and a measure of it is taken from us when someone dies.  Jesus knew this, and felt the very real pain of that loss before he restored Lazarus.

There is the paradox of the mourning Christian.  We weep over a temporary loss, that in our finite understanding feels so eternal.  But this is, in a sense, good.  If we can mourn, despite our understanding of the afterlife, it reveals the value we have for relationship.  And there, the God of relationship can and does minister to us.

Are you broken?

Because, beloved, we are born into a broken world. And it will not let us pass through without being broken along the way.

So we are left with the decision to take up and bear the cross we are offered, or to let it fall on us and pin us down. We can bear it's weight; wrap our arms around it and embrace what has been designed by the world to kill us. Funny how the very thing God will work redemption through feels like the only thing we don't think we can survive. Well, that might be the point. Some part of us--the awful, hurtful, demon- in-training inside of us--isn't supposed to survive.

So, my dear, have you been broken? Does it hurt like hell? Are you going to hold onto it, stroke it and love it; find your identity in it as it consumes you? Or are you going to let Him heal you? Cause here's something else to chew on: our cross isn't our final destination. Our place of brokenness isn't our final destination. It wasn't His either. He promised to finish what he started.