The Peace of Dr. King

Dear Friends,

Why do we need to humanize our heroes and put flesh on our champions? Why do we need to show Dr. King playing ball with his daughter, lounging beside a Jamaican pool with his wife, leaning back with a full belly and whole heart at the supper table with his friends? Because heroes like Dr. King have long been dehumanized in multiple ways: through the feel-good, whitewashing of posted inspirational quotes and dehumanized through racist, fear-filled words spat out like bile—an infectious sickness needing a new host.

Dr. King was a prophet with fire in his belly and conviction running through his veins—each capillary and artery carrying truth like a blazing sword. Never did he mince his words or cushion truth with sentimental platitudes making it easier for white people to digest. His mission was to disturb peace and disrupt harmony for everyone, because there is no peace in injustice and there is no harmony in oppression. His mission was corrosive acid to the privileged peace and harmony that white America held/holds so dear. His mission cut through protective bubbles that kept white people removed and distant from the murderous pain their racism caused people of color.

In Matthew 10:34, Jesus tells his followers, “Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace but a sword.” 

This is not some call from Jesus to engage in violent behavior because Jesus never justifies brutality or bloodshed. The sword Jesus mentions is God’s eternal truth. Truth divides right from wrong. Truth exposes sin of injustice and harmful behaviors and white supremacy. Truth cuts away the racism, prejudice, segregation, and discrimination to reveal the belovedness of the great commandment to love God and love neighbor.

Jesus is called the Prince of peace and Jesus said how peacemakers are the ones who are blessed as God’s children, so we know Jesus is for peace. But there is only one kind of peace Jesus is for and it is the kind of peace that makes you whole. Shalom (peace) means wholeness and completeness and all things are right. The peace Jesus didn’t come to bring and is disgusted by is societal harmony and cultural happiness. The kind of peace that’s afraid of making waves or disrupting the status quo. The kind of easy-peace that says we should mind our own business. 

But friends, the kind of peace that keeps you comfortable is not the kind of peace that makes you whole. 

Dr. King was never interested in keeping the peace to remain comfortable. Every bit of truth Dr. King did, said, and exposed came at the brutal cost of shalom. It was never comfortable but it made him whole. 

Dr. King knew how to enjoy life. He took time to care for his soul and the souls of those he deeply loved. He lived unafraid of the consequences of shalom because he knew the kind of peace that made him whole was a peace worth prophetically working towards. 

May we never pursue peace that keeps us comfortable but may we seek peace that makes us whole. 

With (love and shalom),
Bethany

Peace Keeper vs. Peace Maker

Dear Friends,

I have many shadow sides. I wish they weren’t there. While I am aware of the ones I do see, I am not always seeing them. I’ll ignore that side of me or sometimes I even try to repurpose them into something good. But shadow sides are not good. They are often self-promoting or self-deprecating and always focused on self, one way or the other.

I am a peacemaker by nature. When God weaved me together, God placed this nature within me and I love this about myself. Every good and beautiful part of me finds its origin in the image of God. Unfortunately, my shadow side—my self-side—looks enough like peacemaker to temper the swirling waters around me. Peace-keeper points out all the commonalities between us. Peace-keeper sweeps the yucky under the carpet so we can all get along. Peace-keeper pretends/believes it’s all going to be okay because “God’s got this.” Peace-keeper avoids confrontation and whistles past conflict while spinning the story and potential outcome with positivity and prayer.

This is not the time for us to blanket our churches in positivity and prayer and peace-keeping. Many Christian’s idolatrous desire for keeping a king in place has caused them to see the marginalized as collateral damage while destroying the reputation of Jesus Christ and his church. We distance ourselves from the extremists, saying our faith isn’t like theirs. We might say they’ve been betrayed, hoodwinked, mislead because their focus was on a personality and president, but I wonder how many of us are placing the blame on someone else? If I can point to the president as the main problem, I don’t have to see the internalized prejudice, racism, judgement, and condemnation long embedded within me and historically in this nation. I can easily point out the sin of the other while avoiding the sin within me.

Friends, my shadow side of peace-keeping demands inaction instead of movement, slothful passivity instead of responsive activity. My shadow side loves to keep the peace and keep walking forward in “unity”—a vaporous lie like smoke vanishing with each heartbeat.

Peacemakers call for unity but never at the cost of those on the margin. Unity cannot exist without repentance. Unity cannot thrive without lament. I cannot walk forward into today or tomorrow without acknowledging the pain and trauma of yesterday—trauma and pain I may not have caused but I’ve certainly tried to silence to keep the peace.

Friends, the sin of white supremacy has long influenced peace-keepers around our country and sometimes pastors have been the greatest perpetrators. People with power will do anything to keep power and because money is power, Christianity has worked within the system to keep the machine moving.  

Jesus met a Samaritan woman by the well in her homeland, crossing boundary lines into unstable territories where he might not be accepted, one hot and thirsty afternoon. He recognized his own power and privilege and chose to lay them down to hear her story. I’ve long written scandal into her story, but Jesus never did. Jesus didn’t distill her life into some scandalous anecdote, cheapening this encounter into one of bad and good—she was bad and Jesus made her good. 

Jesus saw beyond the surface where one must tow-the-line-so-peace-remains. He saw into the insidious nature that power and privilege perpetuates where those on the top dictate the lives of those on the bottom. He saw the truth of this broken life with corrupt systems of power, privilege, supremacy, and patriarchy that holds some people back, that oppresses the most vulnerable, that causes suffering and division and hatred of oneself and the other. 

Jesus saw her. In the midst of a broken and corrupt world, he saw her. Her whole story and every mistake she’s made and the harm other people and the societal systems had done to her. Jesus saw it all and didn’t shame her or belittle her or tell her to do better. Because Jesus came to bring justice and grace and new perspective to broken places and hurting people. Jesus didn’t come to keep peace. Jesus came to make peace—peace that unifies because it never avoids conflict or turns a blind eye to oppressive, racist structures. 

Christian friend, may we repent from and lament and grieve over our involvement and perpetuation of unjust systems and deep seated supremacy. May we boldly trust God for all our needs inside and outside the church. And may we be a family of peacemakers bent of forgiveness and grace, given and received.

With (love),
Bethany

This Current Moment

Dear Friend,

I know there are many voices flooding your feed, explaining how you should feel and how your should respond and how should behave during this tumultuous time in our country. There’s a lot of fingers pointing at those horrible people on the other side who will drag our country into the swamp of socialism or racism or sexism or classism or all the other -isms that make us shake in our boots. Dear me, those fingers point long, stabbing and jabbing with righteous fervor and deep convictions like an apple from the tree, ready to tell you what’s good and what’s evil. We’ve long listened to snakes and soothsayers, selling oils and “shoulds” like a savior dressed in white. 

Friend, let’s take a step back from the fury and noise. Let’s unplug from the constant stream of “I’m furious,” and “I told you so,” and “you made your bed,” so we can both possibly gain a different perspective. I know you’re angry, sad, frightened, and deeply disappointed in the direction our nation is headed and I know you wish you could change things. You did your best at the voting booth and you might see something beautiful come from some of those results, but in other ways we are still a divided nation, a severed people. It’s beginning to affect your family and friendships. Difficult subjects and beliefs you’ve ignored or avoided bringing up with people you profoundly love are now rearing forth and you don’t know how to hold back much longer. 

Oh friend, I know to some degree. I’m limited in some of my knowledge simply based on certain privileges I hold, but I feel it. But, please my friend, please. When you forge into those difficult waters, when you must speak your truth and share your pain and expose your vulnerability, please do so without tearing the other person’s humanity down. Please don’t belittle or smear their personhood, only seeing the worst in them. Please don’t call them names or diminish their identity. Standing on their heads to get another breath in just causes you both to drown at a different pace. 

There’s this story in John 4 of Jesus and a Samaritan woman by a well one late afternoon. This story is thick with relevance for our current moment and I would love you to read it sometime. This woman had been married multiple times and she was clearly ashamed to admit any additional sexual scandal within her story, but Jesus responded to her by simply acknowledging the truth of what she did without her actions defining her identity. Jesus knew she was not a sum-total of her mistakes. She was more than her actions and behavior.

While there are some toxic relationships we must distant from and some people we must protect ourselves from, there are other people in our lives we love even though we believe they have gone wrong. They have been deeply misguided and lead astray, away from compassionate love for the most vulnerable. We all go wrong sometimes. We all tend to see one side only. But friend, when we speak our truth, may we not diminishing their personhood in the process. The root-sin historically embedded in the soil of this nation is one bent on the destruction of a person’s identity and humanity based on their race. May we not perpetuate the subjugation of personhood any longer by tearing down the other.  And may we begin by holy conversations, sacred listening, and humble repentance for the ways we’ve gotten it wrong too. 

With (love),
Bethany

In the Lack

Dear friends,

I woke up this morning defeated. 

Maybe it was perpetuated by social media and the onslaught of beautiful families with cheerful Thanksgiving meals and ready-to-help children. I know social media is a farce, a perfected ideal we tend to uphold and showcase, runway ready. I understand the pull to maintain this facade, as I often find myself sustaining it as well.

When thinking ahead into my day or week and anticipate what’s to come within my family, I believe the best-case-scenario for every encounter and experience. My imagination includes joy, peace, kindness—fruit of the Spirit, I suppose. Unfortunately, when the moment arrives, the joy, peace, and kindness within those anticipated moments are lacking. Not within me. No one can remove what’s within me. It’s what’s lacking around me. 

Raising, parenting, and loving kids from trauma is the hardest work I’ve ever done. And today I feel defeated. Because my home, life, holidays, relationships, family, and experiences most often differ from many of the pictures I see on social media.

Which is why I wanted to write to you. Because behind every picture posted is a backstory of pain and peace, difficulty and joy, chaos and kindness. Every person and family has endured or is enduring hardship. Holidays seem to magnify the lack and declare defeat as a final word. But I want you to know that even in the lack there are enough tomorrows to anticipate with joy, peace, and kindness. 

When lack screams in my tear-stained face, desperate to undo the gritty hope I hold onto; when lack disrupts and dishevels everything around me, confident it’s pulling me apart piece by piece, I have found nothing can remove what’s within me. So I step back, away from the lack, to find I have all I need already. It’s more than enough. And it’s more than I need for myself. 

With the joy, peace, and kindness I have within me I will meet each moment of lack to fill their lack. Because what my kids might lack, I have in abundance. 

With (love),

Bethany

Resplendent Promise

Dear friend,

It feels like darkness is lurking around the corner with bleak isolated shadows covering the land like an external calculated seclusion. I hear whispers of fear, anticipating hopelessness to come as the holidays approach. Cancelled plans weighs heavy, forecasting a spirit of fatigue. 

More months without seeing loved ones. Heart-breaking decisions not made lightly or without sadness. 

I keep hearing that we need to prepare for the worst. Prepare for darkness. Prepare to isolate and keep distant. Not only have I heard it, I’ve spoken it out, whispering it to myself and others in moments when I’ve forgotten there’s more than this.

But, my friend, there’s another word that pierces through the darkness and disrupts isolation. A word that sweeps the shadows, uncovers the gloom, and agitates anticipated seclusion. 

Advent.  

While this word doesn’t remove the disappointment, discouragement, and uncertainty, it does bring another perspective and way of seeing this season. Instead of darkness and despair being our guide, light and hope provide enough for us to see one step ahead of the next.

This has been a year of diminished and rattled expectations for everyone as we’ve tried to protect our loved ones. But I haven’t seen any of you stop living. I’ve seen you expand what life looks like—at times flexibly adapting and other times rigidly ceasing. I’ve seen you brazenly approach life with obscene possibility, forging paths through overgrown brambles where no person ventured before you. You’ve been the guide and the follower. It hasn’t been easy and there have been abundant mistakes, but grace abounds, dear friend. Take some grace for yourself and those around you. I've heard rumors of smaller burdens with shared lighter loads; grace-filled promises that we're not alone.

What I want you to know is the darkness will fight hard and it might feel like the darkness could win. But there’s a promise of gentle, inviting, beckoning warmth that shines in the dark cold and the dark is forever befuddled by it. 

Look, dear friend, just beyond the horizon!

A light shines forth bringing a new way forward, revealing you’re not alone. 

With (love),

Bethany

Physical Touch

Dear friends,

In the middle of the field with the sun blanketing my shoulders, I sat on the wooden folding chair with my feet placed firmly on the ground. The dry grass tickled my ankles while the breeze shifted my shirt. With my eyes shut tight, I breathed in a full breath, hemming in every part of my lungs. I held the breath for a beat and let it out—a whisper between my lips. 

And then I felt the hands. Hands from friends and church leaders. Hands on my shoulders, head, arms—their weight heavy yet tender. I felt held, beloved, accepted, seen. I experienced the Holy Spirit’s affirmation and sacred presence through those hands on me. 

The unexplainable enveloping and encompassing presence of the Holy Spirit is actually and authentically felt through physical touch. This is why we lay hands on each other in prayer. This is why we greet each other with a hug or kiss. This is why we hold hands while praying over a meal. We embody the sacred presence of the Holy Spirit. 

So how are we to meet the spiritual and very real need for physical touch during a pandemic?

Today, may you walk outside, turn your face towards the sun and imagine every warm ray as the touch of the Spirit, like a dove’s gentle presence—God’s affirmation of you. May the breeze on your skin be the greeting of a holy kiss. May your feet feel the Creator’s solid foundation for you to stand upon. May you wrap your arms around yourself, hugging yourself closely, digging your fingers into your arms in absolute and total love and acceptance. 

With your eyes closed and your arms wrapped tightly around you, take a deep-full breath in. Hold it. Now slowly let it out with a smile. 

May you lead others in your life to do the same. And may you know you are not alone, even in a pandemic. 

With (love),

Bethany

Seeing Beyond

There’s this story in the Bible about a man who was born blind. It’s a story worth reading, for the first time or again. (John 9)

We don’t know how old he was when Jesus healed him, but we know he’d been blind into adulthood. After he was healed—a healing he had to participate in—he was brought before the religious leaders who had a bajillion questions about this “Jesus” who healed the formerly blind man. Looking for reasons to undermine Jesus’ character, they called Jesus a sinner for healing on the Sabbath. 

He answers them, “Whether he is a sinner or not, I don’t know. One thing I do know. I was blind but now I see!”

Dang.

How often do we Christians seem to need our theology or doctrine or polity to be exact before we can see the miracle around us? Like we believe we can truly know every aspect of the Divine. 

Let go of the peripheral and hold onto the most important, friends.

Whether creation was six literal days or not, I don’t know. One thing I do know. I was alone and now I’m not.

Whether the Bible is inerrant or inspired, I don’t know. One thing I do know. I was rejected and now I am loved and worthy of love. 

Whether all religions lead to Christ or Christianity is the only way, I don’t know. One thing I do know. I once limited God’s salvation and now I know Christ’s vast acceptance. 

One thing I do know. Grace is bigger, broader, defiantly obscene in that it covers all our misunderstandings. 

One thing I do know. Good news is for everyone and we could all use a bit of good news. 

One thing I do know. You are loved. Period. May you see that first, because we’re all getting the other stuff wrong to some degree. 

With (humility and love),

Bethany

Work to Be Done.

Dear Friends,

On November third, you will steady yourself for a hurricane of emotions: laughter and joy, anger and rage, heartache and despair, hope and excitement. These will be emotions you feel within yourself that might be hard to navigate through. And your people will hold these emotions within themselves that will be difficult to process. So when the results are not as you hoped or not as your friend hoped, how will you create spaces for yourself or others to grieve without judgment or resentment? How will we be the church together? How can we help each other brave the storm, regardless of the results?

I am reminded of the history of our faith, dear friends. I am reminded of kings and kingdoms, nations and military generals, empires and rulers falling, collapsing, being defeated and sacked—the people exiled from their land, enslaved and oppressed where everything was taken. The people cried out to God and yet they still found themselves wondering, “Is this the end for us?”. Friends, the Holy Spirit has seen far worse than this American election. The Holy Spirit has been faithfully involved in every aspect of human history, revealing another kind of kingdom, another kind of way to be human in the midst of shifting politics and empires. Our purpose and mission in the world as people of God doesn’t change with or without a new president. 

What is that mission and purpose, you might wonder? Jesus tells us in John 13:34-35, “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

Our purpose and mission in the world has not changed, my friends. We are called, empowered, and commissioned by Jesus Christ to love each other. So may we love each other by looking for ways to listen to the pain and anger. To sit in the silence and grief. To care for the needy and lonely. To pray for each other and build each other up. May we look for ways to love each other really well.

You are not alone, dear friend. We are with you and Christ is with you and you are loved.

Now, dry your tears or put away your party hats. There is much good to be done in the world today and we need you. 

With (love),

Bethany