Summer IS:

1. Getting outside and hiking towards this.

Mt. Rainer

2. Dreaming up ways to scale this.

The Cliffs of Insanity?

3. Realizing one's limitations and contenting self with a "hike" through the semi-melting snow of Paradise.

Kelsey, always glamorous, even with little men on her head.

4. Camp crafts that should never go out of style.

5. New endeavors.
 

Scott's handiwork.

6. Loving these faces.

Look at them. How can you not?

7. And these.

Special, wonderful, dear friends.

8. Even this.

Jershua, King of the Creepers

9. Taking time to...cheer the brave souls peeping through the stubborn snow of the Cascades.

10. Content after hiking through this.

11. Remembering this.

We are...images of God.

12. Coming home to this.

Peanut. Picture compliments of M.G.

13. Enjoying a road-trip day, but anxious to get back to this girl.

Winny and her "burger."

14. And this guy.

15. Oh, and this little one.

16. And always, them.

Jump!

"Somebody told me it was frightening how much topsoil we are losing each year...

...but I told that story around the campfire and nobody got scared." - Jack Handey

Wow, what a week and a half it has been. We're only a day into the new team week (our 4th of the summer) and it already feels like Camp High Rock was ages ago. But, no. Just a few days ago we were just packing up after a week of the joys and trials that come with camp. Only a few days have passed since, but in Rez time that seems like an eternity!

It truly was a wonderful time with all the campers up at Camp High Rock. I don't know if this is a sign that we at Sacred Road might be working too much (heh heh)...but for myself, working as a camp counselor was actually quite a break. I would hate to use the word "vacation" as that implies lounging about with fancy coconut drinks by the pool, but last week was certainly not a burden. Not only was it lovely to spend the time up in the mountains, with the fresh scent of evergreen in the air, but the time spent with our campers was wonderful. We female interns spent much of our time with the highschool girls; it was such a treat to get to know all the girls, but especially those who are from the Yakama area.

By Friday, after only five days with the campers, I had almost forgotten what life was like outside Camp High Rock...moving from one close community to another was fairly seamless. (Of course, it helped that half of the Sacred Road team came along as counselors. :)

It was encouraging to have a whole week to walk alongside all the campers...by the end of it I was left with wanting more time with these precious children and teens to hear their stories and share more about God's promises for their lives. For many, camp is a break from an uncomfortable home-life and a chance to experience a different kind of community and friendship.

Now, back from camp, I hope that conversations that were started may be finished in the weeks to come...though the likelihood that I'll see many of them again isn't high. But, though I cannot be a part of these children and teen's lives any longer, I do know of someone who can...and can do a much better job than I ever could. :)

Friends, thank you so much for all your encouragement and support; I feel I don't say it enough! Though this summer has been incredibly draining and tiring at times, it has been such a blessing to witness all that God is doing here on the reservation. I look forward to sharing more in these last few weeks of the season.

On that note, I must sign off for now. But, before I go, I want to plug our latest team video, posted on Sacred Road's youtube page: http://www.youtube.com/user/SacredRoad#p/u/5/y1RRlfA2M5s

Alrighty friends, thank you and may you have a blessed July!

 Only half of our girls! Go Fireflies! :)

Today:

I love our team. Every last one of  'em. 

My knees and legs are smeared with craft paint and sidewalk chalk.

I have counted at least 10 freckles on my lips. Yes, on my lips. Chapstick pumped with SPF whatever does nothing.

The wind tortured our hair and eyes today with debris made up of who knows what.

Therefore dirt now resides in places I knew not it could exist.

(But!) Kids came to Totus Park.

Kids came to Adam's View Park.

Adults came to Bible study.

Takoda sat with me at dinner. We ate too much cake.

There was laughter. Most of it all day. Most of it loud. Most of it together.




I think the laughter outweighed the tears.

It's official: an update.

Friends,

          It’s been over a month since I arrived at the Granberry’s front porch here on the Yakama Reservation. Orientation has passed. Four teams from Alabama, Idaho, and Illinois have come and gone. Four houses have been either painted or roofed, or both. Hundreds of snacks have been eaten at Kid’s Club, many a craft put together, and 2 weeks worth of skits and songs have been produced under the big blue sky of eastern Washington to a crowd of Totus Park/Adam’s View kids. And the food, oh the food, that has been prepared and enjoyed by folks from all over these United States in Harrah Community Church and the White Swan Longhouse.

Needless to say an “official” update is horribly overdue! Thank you to those who have been urging me for an email…every one of your phone calls gone to voicemail, texts, emails, and facebook comments have been well-received and a huge encouragement these past few weeks. It is an understatement to say that it has been busy here...but that is no excuse. So, here I go...!

Except, I'm not sure where to start...my fingers itch to tap out a multitude of stories I could share in my brief time here. Which do I share? And which do I not?

Perhaps I could start with what it’s like on the first day of Kid’s Club in which we played with dozens of kids at Totus and Adam’s View Park...about little Dante who has stolen my heart as he quietly chalks the pavement:

Or darling Leah as she excitedly runs to Kid's Club as we pull up to the park in our vans. 

She looks quite serious here. But normally, the joy on her face as we pile out with chalk, bubbles, and hugs is breath taking.

Or, perhaps another story is in order. One centered on my primary job here on "the Rez" as food preparer and children’s ministry helper? Until last week I never thought I could be found elbow deep in dressing the elk meat sitting on the Granberry’s kitchen counter...pictured below, actually, is fellow intern Ruth and Mary G. herself.

 

 Or, hilariously messing up a cryptogram for kids at our Tuesday night Bible study...or unloading a car so packed with supplies even the guys at Costco thought we were crazy… 

No, I will not include a photo of said cryptogram. Don't have one. Grocery photos, on the other hand. Have them a plenty.

And of course, yet another facet to the work here with Sacred Road is the Yakama community itself. Two weekends ago the community celebrated "Treaty Days" in which the 1855 Yakama Treaty was commemorated. As the dancers and drummers gathered for the grand entry at the pow-wow I was struck with just how beautiful Yakama culture is despite the brokenness that has permeated this community. Case in point, the 1855 Treaty is celebrated..one would think that there is not much to celebrate, considering 11.5 million acres was ceded to the U.S. government. However, the Yakama ancestors are celebrated for what they were able to save for their future generations....this type of honor and respect is sadly fading from popular culture's view. It is my prayer that through Christ this Yakama community may continue to celebrate all that is beautiful in what their ancestors have passed along to them this day...Yakama culture is beautiful...Yakama culture counts:

Finally, I could continue to spend a great deal of time sharing stories on the smaller community on the Rez that is Sacred Road. Two weeks ago we celebrated with the Granberry family on their seven-year anniversary since moving to eastern Washington (this is their 8th summer). Seven years ago the Lord impressed upon Chris and Mary's hearts to move here with their four kiddos...seven years later the Lord has kept them safe, they have been welcomed into this community, and God continues to work within the hearts of the Yakama community. Needless to say, it's an incredible honor and blessing to be able to work alongside the Sacred Road staff, seeing and learning with them as we attempt to love our first neighbors well this summer!

Ultimately, this first month has been a crash course in what it means to live in community...what it means to live in the Yakama community as a white, female Christian...what it means to live within the close (and becoming closer still) community of believers in Sacred Road...and what it means to live in a community just 3 hours east of my hometown though culturally I'm a stranger in my home state.

Some of you may be familiar with Jean Vanier's From Brokenness to Community (I know a few of you St. Louis friends had to read it for a certain class last semester ;). "Community is a wonderful place," he writes, "it is life-giving; but it is also a place of pain because it is a place of truth and of growth--the revelation of our pride, our fears, and our brokenness." I remember reading this last semester...I knew this last semester. But it hasn't truly resonated with me until this summer. Each community I find myself in, whether it's the specific community of food prep and children's ministry or the broader Yakama community, has it's joys, it's tears, and it's laughs. Daily I'm reminded of God's amazing grace in my life and in the lives of those around me...and yet I also see the terrible brokenness and darkness in my own life and in this reservation community.

More later as the weeks grow long. Blessings, dear reader(s?).

 

One of the many attempts to make Winney giggle. Success!

Musings of an intern...

"All children, except one, grow up. They soon know that they will grow up, and the way Wendy knew was this. One day when she was two years old she was playing in a garden, and she plucked another flower and ran with it to her mother. I suppose she must have looked rather delightful, for Mrs. Darling put her hand to her heart and cried, "Oh, why can't you remain like this forever!" This was all that passed between them on the subject, but henceforth Wendy knew that she must grow up. You always know after you are two. Two is the beginning of the end." - Peter and Wendy

In quiet moments I've been reading J.M. Barrie's collection on the illusive Pan...in-between prepping meals for nearly 80+ people, collecting crafts for Kid's Club, chalking cement with Totus kids, scratching the bellies of Daisy, Peanut, Cooper, Bobo, and Sweetie, and soaking in these uncharacteristically wet eastern Washington days. All in a day's work.

It has always been a rather saddening opening quote, but since coming to "the Rez" it is even more so. Deep down I have thought of Peter as rather selfish demanding forever-youth in Neverland and dragging the Lost Boys and the Darlings into a world based upon his fear and loathing of grown-ups.. For all intents and purposes I'm one of those grown-ups...and from where I'm standing, adulthood isn't half bad.

But, from Peter's (and to a certain extent Barrie's) perspective adulthood means death. While the Mrs. Darlings of this world desire for sweet delight in their little Wendys, Peter's desire for youth is rooted in his fear for the bitter death of growing up. The root to Peter's fear and hatred of grown-ups is never explicitly given, though I can make a few educated guesses. But, whatever his reasons are, they are quite evenly countered with his second-greatest desire...for a mother. This contradictory mentality is what plagues his nightmares most...to live in freedom but under the loving shadow of a mother. Stuck in this juxtaposition, it is impossible for Peter to grow-up in any manner that is healthy...he needs a mother to survive. Only with a mother can he continue to thrive as the Pan.

Here on the reservation we're surrounded by many Peter's...hurting children begotten by hurting adults and circumstances. Many children without mothers...or fathers...or even a daily hot meal. For a few hours each day we can attempt to fill the void with showing love through bubbles and chalk...a hug...losing at tetherball...or simply "just being." We can be that "mother" they so desperately need. But in truth, that won't be enough. For many here, two really is the beginning of the end.

It's a sobering fact which cannot be avoided. But a comforting, countering fact is this: there is a "mother" to be had for these children. In the end, Peter gets a mother. She's not a conventional mother by any means, but a mother nevertheless. And Peter can continue to be the Pan. (On that note, I'm not quite sure how I feel about that...sometimes I wonder what a grown-up Peter would be like...hm...) Just as Peter can soar through the Neverland sky, so these kids, if only for a few hours on a blustery afternoon, can thrive through their unconventional mothers here on the Rez...their mothers teach Tuesday night Bibles study, blow soapy bubbles in the wind, play kickball, and share snacks...or simply hold them in their slumber on the chalked Totus cement.

And then there is yet another mother...the most unconventional of all: the love of a creating and sacrificial God. We, children and adults alike, can cling to scripture (Isaiah 58 comes to mind) and the promises of the Lord. Ultimately, he alone will feed these children with the love and heritage they need...he alone may be the only "mother" they receive...but it will be enough. It must be enough. Without this love I fear these children may never grow up...

In the short time I've been on the Yakama Reservation with Sacred Road I've been given a glimpse of how the Lord is loving on the naughty Peters...and the sweet Wendys. His goodness and grace are known, even in the most sorrowful of times...and that fact trumps them all...

 

"Mother" Morgan

This one's on "Up"...sorta.

I promised myself I wouldn't do it again.

I couldn't.

I shouldn't.

It's only a movie.

I couldn't stop the sniffles:

Bless 'em.

This face. Even this face made me sniffle.

But, what really got me was watching Carl watch his and Ellie's house float away into the clouds. He'd finally let go...let go to the memories weighing him down, the belongings tied to him...and the pain he's clung to after Ellie's death.

As I sat there is the darkend living room, with Winny and Vi snuggled into my sides (and Asher in his usual place 3 inches from the TV), the weight of this last week at Covenant was nearly suffocating. This was my last night of babysitting...this morning I already miss them. 

The excitment for this summer with Sacred Road has been replaced with apprehension...yes, it's mostly due to the pressing stresses here before flying out on Saturday. Come next Wednesday I'll be singing a different tune driving across my beloved Washington to White Swan.

I'll have multitudes of kiddos and new friends to love on this summer. But last night, and this morning, my thoughts are only on those I'll be leaving in St. Louis (and of course my west-side WA family). New roommates, classmates, and neighbors turned beloved friends, pastoral professors, and my little flocks of kidlets...the Lord has truely blessed me with a new community this past year.

However, there's no need to cling to a floating house of balloons. :)

"Great is Thy Faithfulness" came to mind this morning, fresh in my memory from singing it to the kiddos to sleep last night. This is my anthem for the rest of the week. May it be yours too.

"Great is Thy faithfulness," O God my Father,

There is no shadow of turning with Thee;

Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not

As Thou hast been Thou forever wilt be.

"Great is Thy faithfulness!" "Great is Thy faithfulness!"

Morning by morning new mercies I see;

All I have needed Thy hand hath provided—

"Great is Thy faithfulness," Lord, unto me!

Summer and winter, and springtime and harvest,

Sun, moon and stars in their courses above,

Join with all nature in manifold witness

To Thy great faithfulness, mercy and love.

Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth,

Thy own dear presence to cheer and to guide;

Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow,

Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside!

Edward R. Murrow once said...

..."The newest computer can merely compound, at speed, the oldest problem in the relations between human beings, and in the end the communicator will be confronted with the old problem, of what to say and how to say it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blog fail. For someone who says they like to write this blog wouldn't be a great indicator of that. But, then again, this is a blog...and who keeps up with their blog promises anyway? People with plenty to say, with an exorbitant amount of time on their hands, devoid of real world obligations...that's who. Well, that's what I tell myself to feel better about my own shortcomings.

For those who have been checking this thing for updates, I really do apologize. Yet one more method of communication I've neglected as of late. E-mail, texting, phone calls, facebook...even snail mail...they are all part of a massive plot to reveal how badly I multi-task communication amongst family and friends. For someone who certainly uses 20,000-30,000 words a day (that's the usual female average, apparently), it would seem fairly simple to express those words through the various means of electronic communication at my fingertips. For a gesticulator, the keyboard is not a valid means of expression...nor is the span of time and distance.

"One of the hardest things in life is having words in your heart that you can't utter." Credit that quote to James Earl Jones. Not sure how reliable wisdomquotes.com is in who actually utters these little snippets...but the sentiment behind it is applicable tonight...this semester really. With a thousand ideas...musings...emotions...challenges...passing through my skull these past few month I can say without hesitation I don't know where to begin to truly communicate anything of value.

Words on a page, a cell or computer screen, even a voice on the other line, can be misunderstood or not heard properly for even the most articulate amongst us. Words of comfort...lines of advice...a lovingly sarcastic jab fail in impact without the physical presence within communication. The warmth of human touch, the intimacy of a well-needed hug, the beauty in silence are horribly missed when one only has cheap plastic to type or talk through.

I suppose it's the sign of my post-modern generation to be musing about this...on a cheap plastic computer...cell phone to the right...and logged on to facebook...while typing away at a blog. Oy to the meta squared. I'm squirming...uncomfortable with blaming the post-modern in me and "impersonal" forms of communication...uncomfortable relying on technology, yet secretly I also love this aspect of my generation and use and abuse it with relish.

All this to say that this last week has been a week of re-evaluating my efforts in being a good communicator...and daughter...sister...friend...classmate...student...co-worker...stranger...whatever. Whether it's through the papers I'm tap-tap-tapping out, the silly texts I thoughtlessly compose, a hurried phone conversation, or a quick sentence exchanged rushing through the library I've become incredibly self-aware of my need to sharpen up...and slow down...and lovingly hear...and thoughtfully share...and intentionally care.

What that means for this blog I don't know. Time will only tell if this is meant to become a meaningful form of communicating for me. Until then, learning to be technologically silent, yet intentionally communicative. Isn't some sort of silence golden, after all?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"See how nature - trees, flowers, grass - grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence...we need silence to be able to touch souls." - Mother Teresa

Partially completed musings...

“Yet another wall arises from the lack of knowledge of the Scriptures in our society…more and more people are biblically illiterate…”

Curled up on the couch, with Violet nestled in my arms, I read aloud in as low a decimal as possibly; simultaneously accomplishing class assignments while lulling this little three-year-old to sleep. The model babystitter…right. It was nearly 9 PM and this slight tyke should have been asleep an hour ago.


“…we need to recognize that most of those around us no longer have any true grasp of what the Bible teaches; nor do they understand the language Christians are accustomed to using.”

Violet’s eyelids grew heavy, her lashes quivering in exhaustion. I continued, “The last wall and perhaps the most difficult for us to acknowledge and overcome is the wall created by our sense of alienation from those around us…many of us who are Christians are afraid of the culture around us…”

Body beginning to slack in sleepy resignation, Violet snuggled into her pillow…until I began reading an excerpt from Luke 18, “To some who were confident in their own righteousness and looked down on everybody else, Jesus told this parable: ‘Two men went up to the temple to pray…”

Immediately Violet’s eyes opened expectantly and she proudly patted The Heart of Evangelism. “Jesus!” she exclaimed. “Jesus died for my sins! He, he, he…is God and, and, and…he loves me!”

Though miffed at her still resisting sleep (a three-year-old will is strong!), this moment of affirming her “proclamation” of faith was not lost on me. In a span of about five minutes we covered stories and concepts from the nativity to the Trinity…all in the vocabulary of little Vi. Yes, she was regurgitating much of what her parents have responsibly instilled in her…yes she is young…and yes, she was attempting to prolong sleep as long as possible. Yet, "out of the mouths of babes..."

Even at this young age, she possesses a boldness and excitement that I confess I often do not have…she proclaimed the gospel with assurance, zeal, and winsomeness that Barrs notes many seminary students are lacking. Without stretching this moment too much in analogy, perhaps this is what Christ had in mind when he said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” (Matthew 19:14)

Though our little conversation's poignant meaning was completely lost on Vi, I was faced with the realization that I am completely and horribly overwhelmed. There I sat reading through this brilliant book, dejected by disappointing portrayals of the gospel. Often in “evangelism” we see two extremes…Christians with zeal who are biblically illiterate, or those with deep theological and biblical background, yet lack the heart and zeal Barrs commends the Christian to possess. Is it possible to possess both a Christ-like heart and extensive biblical knowledge? Well, yes, of course it is…yet it is not without considerable effort, intentional study, and clinging to the heart and grace of God. But, whether you’re eighty…twenty-four…or three-years-old, it’s not too late to instill a proper heart of evangelism...rather, it's usually well-needed.

So, there I sat frustrated, with myself and others, and little Vi, upon hearing the mention of Jesus, blurts out exactly what I needed to hear, "he loves."

Sometimes it's good to go back to square one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"All men are like grass,
and all their glory is like the flowers of the field;
the grass withers and the flowers fall,
but the word of the Lord stands forever."
- I Peter 1:24-25

This is Violet. She likes "tattoos."

Lord save us all from a hope tree that has lost the faculty of putting out blossoms.

I love Mark Twain.

Student Missions Fellowship: spring missions focus...in photos.

The Mission of God: the mission of nations

The Nation - July 2009

Slowly but inexorably the world of Western academic theology is becoming aware of the rest of the world. The impact of missiology has brought to the attention of the theological community in the West the wealth of theological and hermeneutical perspectives that are, in some cases at least, the product of the success of mission over the past centuries. Mission has transformed the map of global Christianity. (Wright, Pg. 38)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you think of a “missionary” what first comes to mind? If the answer is “white” or “Western” then you are mistaken, for the face of “the missionary” is changing. While white and western missionaries are still quite prominent and formative, according to Christopher J.H. Wright, the fact is that over half of Christian missionaries are not white and western. (Wright, pg. 43) It is quite the opposite and now wonderfully common to witness the increasing diversity of missional people. The face of the missionary is as diverse as this world, which Wright states in The Mission of God is a direct fulfillment of the promises of God. For, as it says in Isaiah 11:10: “In that day the root of Jesse, who shall stand as a signal for the peoples—of him shall the nations inquire, and his resting place shall be glorious.

For too long, the “missionary” has become a vocation of man, in particular the white and western man, and is considered the distinct role of the Christian man. But, as Wright strongly asserts, the mission of the Christian man is not simply his command from God. Rather, the mission of man is first the mission of God, which is clearly threaded throughout the whole of scripture. The theology of God and the mission of man have become separated when Wright stresses the need to reunite God’s theology and mission into one unifying theme.

The stress on God’s redemptive plan for his people is what bind’s Wright’s Mission of God and what he states as “liberating” the entire gospel from the stereotype of binding and bland legalism. Instead, he states, “a broadly missional reading of the whole Bible […] actually subsumes liberationist readings into itself:”

Where else does the passion for justice and liberation that breaths into these various theologies come from if not from the Biblical revelation of the God who battles with injustice, oppression, and bondage throughout history right to the eschaton? Where else but from the God who triumphed climatically over all such wickedness and evil (human, historical, and cosmic) in the cross and resurrection of his Son, Jesus Christ? Where else, in other words, but from the mission of God? (Wright, pg. 44)

While acknowledging the stereotypical damage done by the “white” and “western,” who have obviously not represented correctly God’s prevailing battle with injustice, Wright also commends those who have represented well the mission of God. Of course, there is much needed improvement, in particular amongst the Western Protestant theological academy which “has been slow to give ear to those of other cultures who choose to read the Scriptures through their own eyes.” (Wright, pg 38)

Wright sees God’s mission as the fundamental basis of the Christian faith and with his theological mastery of scripture beautifully demonstrates this evidence throughout the Bible. It is vital to strongly grasp the importance that “the God of Israel, whose declared mission was to make himself known to the nations through Israel, now wills to be known to the nations through the Messiah, the one who embodies Israel with his own person and fulfills the mission of Israel to the nations.” (Wright, pg 123)

“To the nations.” Perhaps, it is what Paul writes of in Romans 15:7 when he says, “therefore welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God.” If we are to welcome the nations, as Paul suggests, then Psalm 117 is all the more beautiful in God’s command to “Praise the Lord, all nations! Extol him, all people! For great is his steadfast love toward us, and the faithfulness of the Lord endures forever. Praise the Lord!”

These verses are never more poignant to me than when I reflect on what it means for one nation in particular to praise the Lord. The Yakama Reservation of Eastern Washington, home to the Yakama Nation, is riddled with alcoholism and drug abuse, broken families, and an extremely high percentage of homelessness, crime, and suicide. Yet, through the work of Sacred Road Ministries there are those of the Yakama Nation who now declare Christ as their Lord and Savior! Theirs is a nation fraught with the damage of years upon years of brokenness (much brought about by the very government that declares “liberty and justice for all”), yet by the grace of God true change is appearing on “the rez.”

In 10 or 20 years’ time, what will the Yakama church look like? Sound like? Preach like? Minister like? Though it is not yet to its full fruition, its church will certainly not look “white” or “western” but will fully reflect the beautiful diversity of its culture. Christ’s sacrifice will be equated to that of the salmon’s yearly sacrifice (He is the Ultimate Salmon), worship will consist of their flute and drum, and all will take place in the community of the longhouse. May it be so!

This is what Wright clearly desires through God’s mission. If Yahweh is the one true God, if Jesus is the embodiment of Yahweh and his desire to be known to the nations, then how can we but aid in this mission? How can we say no to those suffering injustice, oppression, and bondage? God does not say no, therefore we must not. “If then,” Wright concludes, “it is in Christ crucified and risen that we find the focal point of the whole Bible’s grand narrative, and therein also the focal point of the whole mission of God, our response is surely clear.” (Wright, pg. 535)

Surely it is, for as we “kneel with Thomas before Christ and confess, ‘my Lord and my God’” we are also submitting to this mission of God. If we refuse to submit to this mission, then we are not submitting to God. And, if we are not submitting to God, I think it is clear we are no longer of God’s people, of his nations, of his mission. We are instead denying what the post-modern world dreams of:

The Bible which glories in diversity and celebrates multiple human cultures, the Bible which builds its most elevated theological claims on utterly particular and sometimes local events, the Bible which sees everything in relational, not abstract, terms, and the Bible which does the bulk of its work through the medium of stories. […] The story. (Wright, pg. 47)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Turn to me and be saved,

all the ends of the earth!

For I am God, and there is no other.

By myself I have sworn;

from my mouth has gone out in righteousness

a word that shall not return:

‘To me every knee shall bow,

every tongue shall swear allegiance.

"Only in the Lord, it shall be said of me,

are righteousness and strength;

to him shall come and be ashamed

all who were incensed against him.

In the Lord all the offspring of Israel

shall be justified and shall glory."

Isaiah 45:22-25 (ESV)

When Women Are Named.

“When women are named [in the Bible], something unusual is afoot and we should be asking why.” (Richter, 2008, p. 28)

It is fair to say that the Bible is a collection of texts which are primarily male dominated. Written in a patriarchal society, it is not out of the ordinary that the dominate characters in the historical narrative are male, though it often seen in a negative light in today’s post-modern society. But within the context of ancient Middle Eastern culture, it is no accident that God ordains Moses and other learned men to write what now consists of the Bible. Men were educated in these ways; therefore they would naturally be the ones to write. And, as stated by King and Steger, “[…] the Bible was written and compiled by males who had no special interest in women’s roles. They focused primarily on the male aspects of life […] in which women were not directly involved or to which they contributed only minimally.” (Life in Biblical Israel, p. 49)

Therefore, as stated by Richter in The Epic of Eden, the fact that women are mentioned in scripture is something to pay attention to. Eve, Sarah, Rebecca, Rahab, Tamar, Ruth, Esther, Bathsheba…these are just a few of the women named in the Old Testament alone. That they are mentioned by name and given considerable space in the text to their story means that the writer has something to say. Often, it is a commentary on “how God’s way of doing things often stands in opposition to the cultural norms of his people and how redemption’s story critiques every human culture.” (Richter, 2008, p. 30)

One woman, in particular, is given her name in the Book of Hosea. In another story given another context, she most likely wouldn’t have been given reference, much less her name. For, she is what Hosea calls “a woman of whoredom.” Whether this means a prostitute, an adulterer, or both, the wording is clear. Gomer is not a woman of respectable profession and honor. In fact, what respectability she is given by her marriage to the prophet Hosea is shed the moment she returns to her wayward ways. “‘Go, take yourself a wife of whoredom and have children of whoredom,” the Lord commands Hosea, “for the land commits great whoredom by forsaking the Lord.” (Hosea 1:2)

Following the Lord’s instruction, Hosea obeys, takes Gomer as his wife and loves her as his own. Yet, she forsakes the love and safety of her husband’s home for another. Imagine the anger and hurt Hosea must have experienced…having done the Lord’s bidding he is now left with three children (two of which may not be his own), and fully within his rights to have her put to death (Life in Biblical Israel, p. 60). Yet, consider Hosea 3:

And the Lord said to me, "Go again, love a woman who is loved by another man and is an adulteress, even as the Lord loves the children of Israel, though they turn to other gods and love cakes of raisins." So I bought her for fifteen shekels of silver and a homer and a lethech of barley. And I said to her, "You must dwell as mine for many days. You shall not play the whore, or belong to another man; so will I also be to you." For the children of Israel shall dwell many days without king or prince, without sacrifice or pillar, without ephod or household gods. Afterward the children of Israel shall return and seek the LORD their God, and David their king, and they shall come in fear to the LORD and to his goodness in the latter days. (Hosea 3:

This is what the author of Hosea wants the reader to understand. Hosea’s marriage is a physical representation of God’s covenant with Israel and the harlotry Israel plays against the Lord. And God is warning the people of Israel in as dramatic method as he can.

In a sermon series on this very book, Dr. Robert S. Rayburn spends considerable time expounding on this very serious reality. God will exact his punishment…it is clearly stated in Hosea. However, and this is a weighty “however,” there is more to the story. Just as Hosea redeemed Gomer, so God intends to redeem Israel:

This is the promise of the last two verses of chapter 1--fulfilled at least in large part, as we know from the use of these verses in the New Testament, in the gathering of the Gentiles into the church after Pentecost. It is this promise of restoration which is prophetically enacted in Hosea's relationship with Gomer, presumably subsequent to her bearing the three children. So we read in chapter 3 of a continuing relationship, but without intimacy or consummation, between Hosea and Gomer, suggestive of that time of punishment God will bring upon Israel, before he restores her to himself. (Rayburn, 1988)

With both “impending doom and eventual restoration” on Hosea’s lips, the story of Hosea and Gomer is bitter sweet with God’s righteous anger and unconditional love expelled in one breath. This unconditional love is not of fairy tales, Hollywood movies, or passionate self-interest where Love has become god. Rather, it is the love in the form of self-sacrifice though the death of God’s very own that man is rightfully redeemed; God is love, rather than Love is god.

Idolatry was the main root of evil in Israel, says Mark Dever in his sermon titled “What is love?” “Israel has forgotten her true maker…and instead the people were kissing the idols and killing people.” They were in direct opposition to the world God had intended with creation and his covenant. (Audio file .mp3)

Yet, Dever makes it clear; if this disgusts you, do not look to Israel in anger, but look to yourself. This text is not for you to sit comfortably in your pew and scoff at other’s misdeeds. Just as Israel was manifested in the woman Gomer, so we, the modern church, are also a Gomer. We are Israel. Self-examination and repentance and human responsibility are what both Pastors Rayburn and Dever stress upon. If anyone is to be pitied in the story, let it not be Gomer, for she was redeemed by Hosea. Let those be pitied be ourselves, for our idolatry, but ultimately, our sorrow ought to be returned to the Lord, for we have turned from him.

This is a painful story to read, yet, as Dever, Rayburn, and Richter, all conclude with, ultimately, the Book of Hosea is about God’s steadfastness; his redeeming, unconditional love. God was (and is) fully within his rights to exact the punishment of death upon those who turn from his promises…yet as we know, this death is not laid upon our heads. Instead of redemption via silver and gold, we are redeemed by the blood of Christ. If he can love the whore who has spit in his face, what then is our response?

Our response ought to be a response to him. This is redemption; this is love, unconditional love. It is, as Rayburn concludes, the joy of a sinner, “it is the Bible’s universal testimony that there is no greater joy than the joy of a sinner under conviction of his sin who discovers and who experiences God’s forgiveness and God’s mercy.” (Series on Hosea, No. 13)

Gomer recieved this very forgiveness and mercy. Whether she experienced the joy that follows is unclear, for her story ends in Chapter 3 of Hosea without complete resolution. Perhaps this is intentional, for our story is not yet resolved either. Until that story is complete, may we heed the author of Hosea for when a woman is named it in indeed a point to take. May it be so.

Taste Treat #1

"The figure of the enthusiast who has just discovered jogging or a new way to fix tofu can be said to stand or, more accurately, to tremble on the threshold of conversion, as the representative American.”

- Lewis H.Lapham

The following is a new installment I like to call, "What Joelle is eating." Or, to those who will get the joke, "Taste Treat #1." ;)

Sautéed tofu atop a bed of red leaf lettuce.

Let me tell you, this is very complicated to put together...slice and dice 1 tomato, half an avocado, and a little cucumber. Place lovingly atop a bed of red leaf lettuce (shown above). Add the still warm, sautéed (extra firm) tofu, garnish with sea salt and black pepper, and enjoy.

Presentation points: Eh...

Delicious points: Amazing.

Bon appetit!

- Joelle

A humble reminder.

Author's notes:

1) I've given up on correcting "Mrs." into "Miss." If you find out a solution that gets through to your students let me know.

2) Second grade soccer is a sight to behold.

3) At times, seminary saps all from my heart as I fill my head. Thankfully, I realized that, in a rather timely way, on a little soccer field...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kelsey was inconsolable. It all started with an accidental bump that sent her sprawling on the blacktop and, in typical second grade style, she assumed the worst and with her tiny fists pummeled back on the surprised Charlie.

After a considerable time-out I could still detect sniffles coming from the sidelines…a red-faced, but now subdued Kelsey sat cross-legged in the grass, picking at her shoelaces.

I joined her on the grass, keeping a careful eye on the hoard of second graders descending upon a pint-sized soccer ball.

“My parents don’t love me,” was all she said before dissolving into tears once again.

Oh Lord, that was not what I was expecting.

As she poured out her little broken heart I struggled to find words of comfort…while also tweeting my whistle at an aggressive Brad kicking more than just the soccer ball…oh, and there’s Katie gathering acorns on the far side of the field. ..and, oh gosh, Zach is absent mindedly picking his nose.

*sigh*

How do I explain to this seven-year-old the delicate world of sibling rivalry? How do I reassure her that her parents do love her and her big sister equally? How do I validate her feelings while maintaining her parent’s authority? There are so many facets to that one little phrase she first uttered…how do I even begin to explain it all? And, will she even remember this gut-wrenching sorrow at this same time tomorrow?

Each sob was like a brick dropping on my heart

Oh.

Inwardly I slapped my forehead. Sometimes I am such an idiot...this child doesn't need a lecture!

“Kelsey.”

I waited for another pause in the sobs.

“Kelsey.”

I put my arm around her slumped shoulders.

“Kelsey, I want to tell you something.”

Watery eyes looked up at me, expectant and incredulous all at once. My gosh, I’d forgotten the depth of a seven-year-old’s soul.

“I know your parents love you very much, even if you feel like they don’t…sometimes parents have a hard time remembering that they need to tell you.”

She nodded knowingly.

“So, I want to remind you that I love you very much and I am very glad you are in my class. It makes me so happy to see you every week for P.E. and I would be very sad if you weren’t here…ok?”

I meant every single word. And the transformation was incredible. Eyes dry, a smile on her face, Kelsey returned the hug.

We stood up as I blew my whistle, sending her classmates careening towards the school entrance.

“Are you ready to go home?”

She nodded, grinning broadly. “Yes, Mrs. Arkin.” One last hug and she ran to join her classmates.

Wow. That was all she needed. Here I am, Miss Arkin...the grown-up...the teacher...the seminarian...and I almost forgot the most important thing of all....

Telling my students that I love them.

I will always have much to learn...

"...even if no one gives their heart to Christ, I will give Him mine."

The Apologetic Approach of Sandra L. Richter

     It has often been the case for myself that I spend a lot of time apologizing for Christians. Whether naïve, but well-meaning, or judgmental and bitter, the words and actions of “Christians” run the gamut to which I am expected to bear the wrath of the offended before me. I’m expected to take on many forms such as a verbal punching bag, or a laughable clown, or the most daunting of all, theological professor and at once defend my faith, apologize for the wrong-doings of past Christians, and, if I’m lucky, part on cordial terms with the accuser.

     It is a wearying cycle wracked with anger, guilt, and defeat. Just as Christ himself overturned the tables of the money-changers in the temple (Matthew 21:12-13) so I wish I could do the same to those who pollute and misrepresent the Gospel. At other times, guilt turns me into a continual apologizer, rather than a gentle apologist and more often than not, I simply give up in defeat. However, when questions or accusations come my way, I ought to be prepared to share this story of redemption, which is also my story, as Sandra Richer of The Epic of Eden writes. The “Gospel story” dwells not only in the New Testament, but is laced throughout all of scripture…yes, the Old Testament is our story of redemption as well.

     But, too often Christians are ill-equipped with proper knowledge and understanding of the Gospel, resulting in the spread of legalism, heresy, or a white-centric dominating culture (just to name a few offenses). While not making excuses for these wrongs, Richer names the “dysfunctional closet syndrome” as a key component to Christians who simply do not know their Bible. The Old Testament is left out of preaching and teaching (therefore two-thirds of the redemption story), leaving bits and pieces of the New Testament to be dimly understood. Simply put, most Christians have an amazingly cluttered and mismatched “closet” (i.e. understanding) of the Gospel, which has unfortunately manifested itself in most harmful ways.

     It is with this in mind that Richter wrote The Epic of Eden, in which she adeptly tackles key elements the cluttered Christian needs to properly understand the Bible as a whole. She asks the reader to rework in their mind what needs to be undone, offering a gentle apologetic defense of the full redemptive story.

     Biblical history itself is the bulk to her defense and framework structure to “decluttering” the closet; she refers to the “real space” and “real time” of the Old Testament patriarchs, painting a vivid picture of Israelite life. In particular, the common custom of covenant-making is given new meaning, Richter stresses, when it is a covenant between God and man. Often “covenant” is spoken from the pulpit, but reaches the congregation’s ears in an abstract form, yet Richter’s words bring this covenant to life into a realistic, understandable, and relatable relationship between God and man. When God “cut a berit” with Abram in Genesis 15:18 it is he who passes between the bloodied, sacrificed animals, rather than the lesser, Abram. “The Lord of the cosmos traversed the bloody ally in order to announce to Abram and his offspring that he would not fail.” Yet, man does fail, so “whose flesh was torn to pay the price for this broken covenant? […] It was the God-man, Jesus Christ—the representative of humanity and the embodiment of Yahweh—whose flesh was torn to appease the broken stipulations of the oaths taken.” (Richter – 79) The direct correlations to Christians today cannot be easily lost.

     Therefore, when God makes this covenant with Abram, he also renews it with Moses and the people of Israel. But, a key distinction Richter makes is that these are not a “perfect” people with whom God renews his covenant. Rather, by God’s covenant “a rabble of slaves was transformed, and the most amazing drama of redemptive yet known to human history occurred.” (Richter – 82)

     And in this rabble are included women, many of whom are specifically named throughout the narrative of the Old Testament, which represent a unique literary device in Richter’s mind…when the likes of Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and Bathsheba are directly named the authors of the Bible are trying to tell us something…something important. All of these women are foreigners, some prostitutes, some poor, some widowed, yet all have been grafted into God’s covenant...and are the in the direct genealogical line to David. And, as the mothers of David, they too are the mothers of Jesus Christ.

     This is the nature of the deliverance that is promised with Christ. “This deliverance is for all people. Not just the Jews. Not just the righteous. Rather, the unclean, the foreigner, the sinner—if they will believe as Rahab did—are welcome. Not merely welcome into the new community, but welcome even into the lineage of the Christ.” (Richter – 29)

     The implications of these Old Testament women for the New Testament (and today!) are considerable. For, just as these women were declared righteous before God and grafted into his kingdom, so are we considered today. If we “will believe as Rahab did” then God will also extend the berit to us. Christ is the final berit, one who is for the lowly and downtrodden today, just as Yahweh was for the women of the Old Testament.

     This final berit, as Richter puts it, is the beginning of the end. Or, another way to put it would be is this berit is transformation of the beginning (meaning Eden) to the end. It is the full redemptive story coming full circle. From the fall of Adam and Eve to the redeeming work of Christ to the reinstating of Eden on Earth, the whole of the Old and New Testaments are enveloped in this complete story.

     In Chapter 4 of The Epic of Eden, Richter spends incredible detail on what Eden was supposed to be for us as God’s creation, and what we lost with the fall. One can only imagine what it must have been like for Adam and Eve to relate to their children and grandchildren (and great-great-great grandchildren!) why no one could approach the garden beyond the flaming sword of the cherubim. Perhaps apologetic, maybe angry at times, and most certainly guilty…the shame they held was heavy.

     Yet, just Adam and Eve had one story to tell, we have another; that of their redemption, and God’s promise of the new Eden…the New Jerusalem. (Richter – 127) Just as man falls, God redeems with his covenant, with the promise of the Eden to come.

     The final implications of the full-circle covenant are made clear in the opening pages of The Epic of Eden, when Richter poignantly states “Human, rather than recognizing the trappings of their own culture (and that their culture may in fact be very different from someone else’s), tend to assume that other societies are just like their own.” (Richter - 21) Yet, as the author makes clear, it is not through the Israelite culture, nor Western culture, that God’s redemption ultimately takes place. Rather, through time and space amidst culture, God’s redemptive work is accomplished.

     “The Bible is the saga of Yahweh and Adam, the prodigal son and his ever gracious heavenly father; humanity in their rebellion and God in his grace. This narrative begins with Eden and does not conclude until the New Jerusalem is firmly in place. It is all one story. And if you are a believer, it is your entire story.” (Richter – 15)

     If it is indeed all our story…which I am inclined to agree with (considering Richter’s years of knowledge and scripture itself!) then even the egregious mistakes of our forefathers are amended, when the future of a new Eden is considered. The fall of man is in effect today, just as it was in the garden, in the desert, and in Jerusalem, yet Christ’s fulfillment of the berit is also in effect...glory be to God.

*click*click*click*

To whom it may concern,

ohmygoodness.

To keep myself from turning this post into a stress-rant I'll keep it short. Needless to say, this semseter is gettin' crazy with things called mid-terms, papers, work, and, oh yeah, planning for my future. AND, my computer is dead...not mostly dead (which is slightly alive), but all dead.

But, I am thankful for this lab computer I am currently hunched over, the cup o' Joe in my hand (yes, I can type and sip at the same time...such skills), and a helpful advisor meeting I just came from. AND, I had a chance to break out my camera this weekend.

In closing I will depart with some favorites from the weekend. Enjoy. :)

Sincerely,

Joelle

Morning dew...

"Let your life lightly dance on the edges of Time like dew on the tip of a leaf.”

Favorite.

Elephant Rocks State Park

Roommate Christina.

More rocks.

Tee hee.

Modelicious me.

...look away, sing for salvation...

To whom it may concern,

It didn't used to be this way, but I have a hard time getting any work done without the proper music playing in the background. And by proper music I mean something melodious without being terribly distracting, (cue Black Eyed Peas's "Pump It"). Maybe it's just me, but I have a hard time reflecting on the works of Calvin with "Turn up the radio, blast your stereo, right now. This joint is fizzlin, it's sizzlin, right."

Right.

Anyway, I blame the ADHD I don't have on the fact I need something playing in the background...but this something can't be just anything. Cue the most awesome collection of study music I have put together:

Sufjan Stevens
Damien Rice
Amos Lee
Andy Juhl
Coldplay
David Gray
Allison Krauss
Edith Piaf
Feist
Brandi Carlile
Billie Holidy
Hey Marseille

Can I just take a moment to highly suggest you check out Hey Marseille (P.S. Seattle-based!) sometime soon? Why yes I can, this is my blog and I shall do as I please...thus sayeth me.

Anywho, if you're on the lookout for some beautifully evocative "folkestra" please give them a listen. I actually bought their album on itunes, which means they must be something special considering the last time I purchased off itunes was probably two years ago. An added bonus is the album is wonderfully and intentionally organized from beginning to end. From the first "Marseille" to the last "Goodbye Versailles" it's rather lovely.

Cheers,
Joelle