I've never been one to make New Year's Resolutions, and not because I think it's a terrible idea. Mostly because self-control is hard, and I have a severe fear of failure. This year, though, I've felt the nudge to do something different. I will be choosing a word for 2018: LISTEN. Lately I've found myself living inside of strange echo chamber. My kids do something annoying, and I start to think about how to post about it in a hilarious way on Facebook. I see my dog do something cute, and I immediately snap a photo for the world to see. What kind of blog post can I write that will garner the most attention? What status update and adorable photo will gain the most "likes" and "comments"? What kind of witty, self-deprecating comment can I add to a Facebook conversation that will make me appear charming and genuine? This mindset isn't reserved just for social media either. For as long as I can remember, I have enjoyed making people laugh with silly one-liners and storytelling techniques. Even though I truly am an introvert, I also enjoy affirmation. Is that true for all of us? I don't think any of that is bad in and of itself, but I've been noticing a side effect of these behaviors: I forget to listen. I forget to listen to those around me, the friends and family members and students that I encounter in my everyday life. And more importantly, I forget to listen to the gentle whisper of the Holy Spirit. Instead of praying for my sometimes-annoying children, I write status updates in my head. Instead of truly listening to my student share about the decision-making process in selecting a major, I think about the perfect story from my own life that somehow relates to her situation. Rather than truly focusing on what my husband tells me about his day, I scroll through a newsfeed or think about a recipe or remember a story I wanted to tell him. Instead of turning to Jesus, my best friend and confidant, as I try to make sense of the world around me, I think about how to compose the best-ever blog. And I don't want to do that in 2018. I'm not 100% sure what this will look like, but I know it will sound quieter. It will include less social media presence and more time of quiet reflection. And I'm excited to see what the Holy Spirit does. I'm not signing off of my blog or Facebook for the entire year because sometimes writing can be an essential part of my personal listening process and some of my best friends are found on social media, but I will probably post less often and more intentionally. When my mind starts racing with what I could say or what I should write, I will silently think to myself, "Listen."
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On Sunday we drove home from Kansas City after a holiday visit with Chris's mom. We spent some of the time listening to Christmas music. Forgive me, but I'm a sucker for Christmas nostalgia in the form of dusty records from the attic. My childhood Christmas soundtrack was Burl Ives and Bing Crosby and Nat King Cole played from LPs. Nat King Cole's version of "O Holy Night" played on our Sunday afternoon road trip. That song gets it all right, doesn't it? The holiness, the beauty, the chains and the freedom. At one point I said to Chris, "This version is my favorite. He sings just the notes." There's some truth in our need to sing just the notes, too, am I right? Just like Nat King Cole doesn't need the extra riffs and embellishments to create the perfect version of that holiday classic, we don't need the extra busyness and chaos that we often create in the holiday season. However, in our attempt to fabricate the perfect holiday, we put up extra strings of lights and spend more on gifts than we should and say "yes" to too many Christmas parties. We would be better off if we stuck to Nat King Cole's version: just the notes. Since becoming parents, that has been a holiday goal for Chris and me. We pare down and focus on the essentials. Tonight we will wrap gifts and drink red wine while the boys are at basketball practice. The store-bought wrapping paper won't match on the edges and the corners will not be crisp. (My apologies, Dad. You definitely taught me better.) I'll probably write names on gifts with a Sharpie. This year at least I have clear tape. (I've been known to wrap birthday gifts with duct tape.) The perfect ribbons and intricately lettered name tags aren't essentials for us. (No judgment if they are for you.) We probably won't make it to look at Christmas lights this year, and we might not get to watch every Christmas movie on our list of favorites. I never get all of the baking done that I'd like to do, and this year we're making our own gingerbread houses out of graham crackers and frosting because I didn't want to shell out the cash for the fancy store-bought ones. But that's okay. Those things are the extra riffs and embellishments that might make us lose focus on the notes, if we're not careful. Just the notes. So what does that means? The Gospel notes are pretty simple: Jesus came. Jesus lived and loved. Jesus died so you and I can experience freedom and forgiveness. Therein lies our greatest hope. Sing just those notes this Christmas, friends. This isn't much of a teaching blog lately, is it? I'm writing about race and Christmas ornaments and today, Jesus. I'm apparently not very good at sticking with a theme. Or maybe it all ties together. Who knows? For the past few months, however, I've been noticing a theme in my faith life. The Bible is full of so many outsiders. I think we in the Church (myself included) need that reminder again this Christmas season: Jesus came for the outsider, too. Part of Jesus' lineage is Ruth, a Moabite widow who definitely should not have been invited to the party by traditional standards. She's so important, though, that she gets a shout-out in Matthew 1:5. Then later in Matthew we are introduced to the Magi. As John Piper points out, Matthew skips right over the shepherds to get to these foreign astrologers who were some of the first to celebrate Jesus' birth. Check out Matthew 8:10. Do you know who Jesus was talking about when he said this: "Truly, I tell you, with no one in Israel have I found such faith"? It was a Roman centurion, not only an outsider, but a resented outsider. In Luke 7:29-30 we read that even the tax collectors believed that "God's way was right," and in case you missed it, the tax collectors weren't part of the "in crowd." We also have women playing an essential role in the story of our Messiah, with some of the most beautiful words of praise in the New Testament being declared Mary, Jesus' mother, as she presents a humble prayer of worship in Luke 1:46-55. (It's also worth noting that by Mary was an unwed pregnant teen, most definitely an outsider during that time period.) And I still get goosebumps every time I read the account in John 20:11-18 of Jesus first appearing to Mary Magdalene after the resurrection. Look at Jesus' teachings where we encounter the Good Samaritan. See his ministry where He healed the beggars and the lepers and the most destitute of us all. Behold his dying-breath conversation with the thief on the cross. Again and again, we see Jesus display compassion for those outside of the "in group." Even a cursory glance through the Gospels convinces us that Jesus didn't come for the ultra-religious and the holier-than-thous. As a matter of fact, they were so busy being right that they missed Him completely. So where does that put us during this Christmas season? I think it's a not-so-gentle reminder to get out of our comfort zones and remember that the Good News of the Gospel is not just for the insiders. It's for the least expected. It's for the war-wounded refugee and the unwed teen mother. It's for the recovering heroin addict and the convicted felon sitting in a jail cell. Or, in the words of Dave Matthews, "The people he knew were less than golden hearted -- gamblers and robbers, drinkers and jokers, all soul searchers, like you and me." For many of us, this isn't a new revelation, but if you're like me, it takes practice to move from understanding to believing, and action is often a requirement. What does that look like? It might be putting together kits to hand out to the homeless as we drive through the city streets. (I found great ideas on Pinterest that I will be putting together this weekend.) It might be preparing a meal for a down-on-his-luck neighbor or providing gifts for some foster kiddos. I think it's up to us to carefully discern on the individual level, but with certainty I can say this: Sharing the Good News with the outsider looks like lots of things, but it doesn't look like the repeated care and concern only for the insider. Jesus made that clear. And maybe the revelation is that I'm an outsider, too, so the beautiful Gospel is for me. |
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