The curriculum Holly wrote for Christianity Today International, "How to Read the Bible (and Understand it, Too!)" is now available online. If you have kids, work with youth, have friends who've asked, "What's the Bible about?" or you'd just like to read a quick overview of the Bible, check out this PDF download. It's selling for $14.95 (worth every penny!) and you can make up to 1,000 copies for your church or organization.
http://biblestudies.stores.yahoo.net/howtorebiaun.html
Monday, July 05, 2010
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Too Sexy for Church? (July 29, 2009)
Too Sexy for Church?
By Holly Vicente Robaina
Struggling with the "appropriateness" of my outfits
July 29, 2009 | Today's Christian Woman
Ever have one of those days where you open your closet, and there isn't one appropriate outfit to wear? That's been my experience every Sunday morning for the past month. Suddenly, I can't seem to find anything to wear to church. Skirts that I've worn for months or years now seem too short, too tight, too thin, or too flashy. Every top seems either to show too much skin, or have too much detail around the neckline, or just to fit me a little too nicely. And in my mind, my shoes are either too high, too strappy, or too revealing, what with my heel being exposed and all. I've also eschewed wearing anything with sequins, beading, lace, bows, ruffles, or elaborate stitching - because in my mind, these trims now scream, "Look at me! I'm excessive and flamboyant!"
In short, I'd concluded I didn't have any "appropriate" worship-wear. Just as I planned to run out and buy a whole new wardrobe, a thought hit me: What has happened that's made me now perceive my clothes as too showy and sexy?
For starters, my husband and I recently moved, and I'm now attending a new church. It's tough to be the new gal who's longing to fit in and be accepted. I used to attend a church in Los Angeles, full of 20- and 30-somethings who wore everything from upscale trends to t-shirts and flip-flops. In others words, a gal could blend in whether she came casual or dressy. My new home is in a conservative suburban area, and my new church consists largely of senior citizens. I've been observing other church members, trying to figure out the "rules" for attire here.
And it seems I haven't quite figured out their "dress code" yet. Despite the soaring summer temperatures in Southern California, there have been a couple Sundays where I've been the only gal in the sanctuary who's sporting bare shoulders. Suddenly, my sleeveless tops from Ann Taylor Loft - which I'd once considered ultra conservative - now make me feel like a harlot.
No one at my new church has criticized my appearance. Yet I've felt I've perhaps dressed inappropriately. To get to the bottom of my skewed perception, I asked several of my Christian girlfriends if they ever worry about what to wear to church - and they all answered in the affirmative.
One curvy friend explained that she tends to buy loose shirts to de-emphasize her bust. Another, who is tall, told how she'd been mortified when her knee-length skirt rode up a bit on sitting down, exposing her leg a couple inches above the knee. And another told about the tacit rule of dressing up for church that had been built into her: As a teen, her then youth pastor instructed, "Dress for church like you're going on a date." (Presumably, a date is associated with looking one's best in the teen-age mind.)
My friend's story made me wonder: What's the Scriptural basis for wearing our "Sunday best" to service? Does the Bible anywhere mention that God will be upset if we look too frumpy when we come together for corporate worship? Or too flashy? I've heard some church leaders use the Apostle Paul's words to Timothy to suggest that women shouldn't get their hair done or wear jewelry, lest they sin by drawing the wrong kind of attention to themselves.
But consider Paul's words in context: "Therefore I want the men in every place to pray, lifting up holy hands, without wrath and dissension. Likewise, I want women to adorn themselves with proper clothing, modestly and discreetly, not with braided hair and gold or pearls or costly garments, but rather by means of good works, as is proper for women making a claim to godliness" (1 Timothy 2:8-10, NASB).
Is Paul's objective to establish a rule banning hairdos and shiny accessories? Or is he making the point that all believers need to cease being self-focused, and to instead keep our attention on worshiping God? Eugene Petersen offers this paraphrase of the passage in The Message: "Since prayer is at the bottom of all this, what I want mostly is for men to pray - not shaking angry fists at enemies but raising holy hands to God. And I want women to get in there with the men in humility before God, not primping before a mirror or chasing the latest fashions but doing something beautiful for God and becoming beautiful doing it."
This made me realize: I can't focus on God if I'm constantly worrying that others are judging me. Sadly, my outfit anxiety has kept me from worshiping fully during the past several Sundays. Instead of worrying, I need to ask God to provide friends at my new church, to share my fears with him about being rejected, and to let him comfort me when I feel lonely.
But I'm not going to dismiss my concerns about modesty, either. This has been a reminder to pray for discernment about my future clothing purchases. And when in doubt, I'll take a Christian gal pal to the store with me to get a second perspective.
Blessings,
Holly
What causes you to fret over your appearance? In what ways does clothing distract you from focusing on God?
By Holly Vicente Robaina
Struggling with the "appropriateness" of my outfits
July 29, 2009 | Today's Christian Woman
Ever have one of those days where you open your closet, and there isn't one appropriate outfit to wear? That's been my experience every Sunday morning for the past month. Suddenly, I can't seem to find anything to wear to church. Skirts that I've worn for months or years now seem too short, too tight, too thin, or too flashy. Every top seems either to show too much skin, or have too much detail around the neckline, or just to fit me a little too nicely. And in my mind, my shoes are either too high, too strappy, or too revealing, what with my heel being exposed and all. I've also eschewed wearing anything with sequins, beading, lace, bows, ruffles, or elaborate stitching - because in my mind, these trims now scream, "Look at me! I'm excessive and flamboyant!"
In short, I'd concluded I didn't have any "appropriate" worship-wear. Just as I planned to run out and buy a whole new wardrobe, a thought hit me: What has happened that's made me now perceive my clothes as too showy and sexy?
For starters, my husband and I recently moved, and I'm now attending a new church. It's tough to be the new gal who's longing to fit in and be accepted. I used to attend a church in Los Angeles, full of 20- and 30-somethings who wore everything from upscale trends to t-shirts and flip-flops. In others words, a gal could blend in whether she came casual or dressy. My new home is in a conservative suburban area, and my new church consists largely of senior citizens. I've been observing other church members, trying to figure out the "rules" for attire here.
And it seems I haven't quite figured out their "dress code" yet. Despite the soaring summer temperatures in Southern California, there have been a couple Sundays where I've been the only gal in the sanctuary who's sporting bare shoulders. Suddenly, my sleeveless tops from Ann Taylor Loft - which I'd once considered ultra conservative - now make me feel like a harlot.
No one at my new church has criticized my appearance. Yet I've felt I've perhaps dressed inappropriately. To get to the bottom of my skewed perception, I asked several of my Christian girlfriends if they ever worry about what to wear to church - and they all answered in the affirmative.
One curvy friend explained that she tends to buy loose shirts to de-emphasize her bust. Another, who is tall, told how she'd been mortified when her knee-length skirt rode up a bit on sitting down, exposing her leg a couple inches above the knee. And another told about the tacit rule of dressing up for church that had been built into her: As a teen, her then youth pastor instructed, "Dress for church like you're going on a date." (Presumably, a date is associated with looking one's best in the teen-age mind.)
My friend's story made me wonder: What's the Scriptural basis for wearing our "Sunday best" to service? Does the Bible anywhere mention that God will be upset if we look too frumpy when we come together for corporate worship? Or too flashy? I've heard some church leaders use the Apostle Paul's words to Timothy to suggest that women shouldn't get their hair done or wear jewelry, lest they sin by drawing the wrong kind of attention to themselves.
But consider Paul's words in context: "Therefore I want the men in every place to pray, lifting up holy hands, without wrath and dissension. Likewise, I want women to adorn themselves with proper clothing, modestly and discreetly, not with braided hair and gold or pearls or costly garments, but rather by means of good works, as is proper for women making a claim to godliness" (1 Timothy 2:8-10, NASB).
Is Paul's objective to establish a rule banning hairdos and shiny accessories? Or is he making the point that all believers need to cease being self-focused, and to instead keep our attention on worshiping God? Eugene Petersen offers this paraphrase of the passage in The Message: "Since prayer is at the bottom of all this, what I want mostly is for men to pray - not shaking angry fists at enemies but raising holy hands to God. And I want women to get in there with the men in humility before God, not primping before a mirror or chasing the latest fashions but doing something beautiful for God and becoming beautiful doing it."
This made me realize: I can't focus on God if I'm constantly worrying that others are judging me. Sadly, my outfit anxiety has kept me from worshiping fully during the past several Sundays. Instead of worrying, I need to ask God to provide friends at my new church, to share my fears with him about being rejected, and to let him comfort me when I feel lonely.
But I'm not going to dismiss my concerns about modesty, either. This has been a reminder to pray for discernment about my future clothing purchases. And when in doubt, I'll take a Christian gal pal to the store with me to get a second perspective.
Blessings,
Holly
What causes you to fret over your appearance? In what ways does clothing distract you from focusing on God?
A Christian Sense of Humor (July 1, 2009)
A Christian Sense of Humor
by Holly Vicente Robaina
When others insult Christianity, should we laugh, be silent, or get mad?
July 1, 2009 | Today's Christian Woman
Did you hear about the so-called Christian group that's protesting the upcoming video game "Dante's Inferno"? Claiming they were from a church in Ventura County, California, about 20 members of S.A.V.E.D. (an acronym for "Salvationists Against Virtual and Eternal Damnation") handed out pamphlets outside of the Los Angeles Convention Center during the Electronic Entertainment Expo last month and held picket signs that read, "Hell is not a game" and "Trade in your PlayStation for a PrayStation." The group also posted a website and YouTube videos.
I should tell you right now: The whole thing is a publicity stunt for the video game company Electronic Arts. Yet two reputable newspapers, the Los Angeles Times and the San Jose Mercury-News, initially reported this "protest" as actual, factual news. Online posts and blogs on the topic indicate a number of folks are taking it seriously. Regardless of whether they're in on the joke or not, many are offering the same comment: "Can't Christians take a joke?"
Once again, Christianity's been portrayed as laughable. Most Christians will get an earful of jokes, pokes, and even some outright insults in our lives. When this happens, should we laugh it off, express our hurt, or get angry?
I think different slights call for different responses. Generally, we should respond with our honest reaction. If we think a joke about Christians or the church is funny, we should laugh about it. In my opinion, there are some hilarious jokes about Christians. (One website I enjoy is Stuff Christians Like; I'm told the blogger is a Christian.)
But we shouldn't limit these positive responses only to other Christians. I've heard atheists slam bad behavior by Christians, and I had to nod and agree they were right. Such snubs are actually helpful: I receive insight into how others view the church, and I'm able to surprise them by admitting Christians aren't perfect--individually and collectively, Christians do some loony things.
But if we're hurt by a statement, we should say this and explain the reason - namely, that our faith is important to us. Others can understand your emotional state if you explain by using examples to which they'll relate. For example, tell the one who's offended you, "When you insult my faith, it's like if I insulted your spouse or your parents; I love God just as strongly as you love your family. I know you may not understand why I love God, but as my friend who cares about my feelings, I need you to acknowledge the depth of my relationship with God."
There's a big difference between jabs at Christians, and insults about God, Jesus, or the Holy Spirit. Such statements are unacceptable: This is where we need to draw the line and diplomatically express our anger. It's a matter of standing up for our God. We need to correct any lies or misconceptions about God's character, and warn the offending friend that the most high God won't tolerate those insults forever. Any actions we take - such as disconnecting from the friendship if the insults toward God continue - are done so that we're not associated with the blasphemy.
The one thing we must avoid is holding our tongues. If we're silent when someone speaks ill, it might cause them to think the insults are appropriate and acceptable - that we don't really care about our faith. So whether it's acknowledging, "Yeah, Christians can do some awful stuff sometimes. I hope you don't think the misguided actions of some Christians represent God's character"; or pressing, "You know I'm a Christian--do you feel that way about me?"; or being blunt, "What you said is completely inappropriate. (Or intolerant. Or crass.) Why would you say something like that?"--speaking up shows others that our relationship with God is important to us.
I have mixed feelings about the Electronic Arts publicity stunt. Portraying Christians as people who sometimes protest in corny ways isn't inaccurate. The fact that this publicity stunt worked should cause us all to evaluate, Are there ways I'm fulfilling the stereotype that Christians are hypersensitive hotheads?
But I'm not about to laugh this one off, either. I'm troubled by the flippant use of images of Jesus and of the cross to hawk a video game. I'm still chewing on how I might express my disapproval to the company. In the meantime, I'll offer this comment posted on the Los Angeles Times website by "Thom Olson," which is a great example of what I've discussed here:
"I am disappointed that EA is all right with usurping the voice of religious people to promote a game. Past viral/guerilla marketing campaigns have been more clearly divorced from reality, and I think this crosses a line. If EA had รข€˜protesters' who were of an ethnic group out there with literature and costuming that made them look foolish, I think the inappropriateness of this campaign would be more clear. In a world suffering because business seems to feel that the ends justify the means, I hope we see the return of basic ethics to business soon."
Blessings,
Holly
When others make jokes or insult Christianity, how do you respond?
by Holly Vicente Robaina
When others insult Christianity, should we laugh, be silent, or get mad?
July 1, 2009 | Today's Christian Woman
Did you hear about the so-called Christian group that's protesting the upcoming video game "Dante's Inferno"? Claiming they were from a church in Ventura County, California, about 20 members of S.A.V.E.D. (an acronym for "Salvationists Against Virtual and Eternal Damnation") handed out pamphlets outside of the Los Angeles Convention Center during the Electronic Entertainment Expo last month and held picket signs that read, "Hell is not a game" and "Trade in your PlayStation for a PrayStation." The group also posted a website and YouTube videos.
I should tell you right now: The whole thing is a publicity stunt for the video game company Electronic Arts. Yet two reputable newspapers, the Los Angeles Times and the San Jose Mercury-News, initially reported this "protest" as actual, factual news. Online posts and blogs on the topic indicate a number of folks are taking it seriously. Regardless of whether they're in on the joke or not, many are offering the same comment: "Can't Christians take a joke?"
Once again, Christianity's been portrayed as laughable. Most Christians will get an earful of jokes, pokes, and even some outright insults in our lives. When this happens, should we laugh it off, express our hurt, or get angry?
I think different slights call for different responses. Generally, we should respond with our honest reaction. If we think a joke about Christians or the church is funny, we should laugh about it. In my opinion, there are some hilarious jokes about Christians. (One website I enjoy is Stuff Christians Like; I'm told the blogger is a Christian.)
But we shouldn't limit these positive responses only to other Christians. I've heard atheists slam bad behavior by Christians, and I had to nod and agree they were right. Such snubs are actually helpful: I receive insight into how others view the church, and I'm able to surprise them by admitting Christians aren't perfect--individually and collectively, Christians do some loony things.
But if we're hurt by a statement, we should say this and explain the reason - namely, that our faith is important to us. Others can understand your emotional state if you explain by using examples to which they'll relate. For example, tell the one who's offended you, "When you insult my faith, it's like if I insulted your spouse or your parents; I love God just as strongly as you love your family. I know you may not understand why I love God, but as my friend who cares about my feelings, I need you to acknowledge the depth of my relationship with God."
There's a big difference between jabs at Christians, and insults about God, Jesus, or the Holy Spirit. Such statements are unacceptable: This is where we need to draw the line and diplomatically express our anger. It's a matter of standing up for our God. We need to correct any lies or misconceptions about God's character, and warn the offending friend that the most high God won't tolerate those insults forever. Any actions we take - such as disconnecting from the friendship if the insults toward God continue - are done so that we're not associated with the blasphemy.
The one thing we must avoid is holding our tongues. If we're silent when someone speaks ill, it might cause them to think the insults are appropriate and acceptable - that we don't really care about our faith. So whether it's acknowledging, "Yeah, Christians can do some awful stuff sometimes. I hope you don't think the misguided actions of some Christians represent God's character"; or pressing, "You know I'm a Christian--do you feel that way about me?"; or being blunt, "What you said is completely inappropriate. (Or intolerant. Or crass.) Why would you say something like that?"--speaking up shows others that our relationship with God is important to us.
I have mixed feelings about the Electronic Arts publicity stunt. Portraying Christians as people who sometimes protest in corny ways isn't inaccurate. The fact that this publicity stunt worked should cause us all to evaluate, Are there ways I'm fulfilling the stereotype that Christians are hypersensitive hotheads?
But I'm not about to laugh this one off, either. I'm troubled by the flippant use of images of Jesus and of the cross to hawk a video game. I'm still chewing on how I might express my disapproval to the company. In the meantime, I'll offer this comment posted on the Los Angeles Times website by "Thom Olson," which is a great example of what I've discussed here:
"I am disappointed that EA is all right with usurping the voice of religious people to promote a game. Past viral/guerilla marketing campaigns have been more clearly divorced from reality, and I think this crosses a line. If EA had รข€˜protesters' who were of an ethnic group out there with literature and costuming that made them look foolish, I think the inappropriateness of this campaign would be more clear. In a world suffering because business seems to feel that the ends justify the means, I hope we see the return of basic ethics to business soon."
Blessings,
Holly
When others make jokes or insult Christianity, how do you respond?
Ultimatum to the GOP (June 3, 2009)
Ultimatum to the GOP
by Holly Vicente Robaina
Liberty University boots Democratic club; inspires Holly to take a stand.
June 3, 2009 | Today's Christian Woman
I’m publically issuing this ultimatum to the Republican Party: Take a pro-life stand in a big, visible way, or I’m leaving.
TCW readers will recall that just two months ago, I suggested Christians reserve discussion on abortion for the right time and place. I’m seizing the opportunity presented by a Gallup poll conducted this May, which found 51 percent of surveyed Americans identify as “pro-life,” while 42 percent identify as pro-choice. Get this: It’s the first time there’s been a pro-life majority since Gallup began conducting the poll in 1995.
Additionally, I’ve been inspired by a bit of controversy at Liberty University, the private university in Lynchburg, Va., that was founded by the late Rev. Jerry Falwell. In May, Liberty officials notified the student Democratic club that their status as a University-sponsored organization was being revoked. The reason: the club’s charter stated that members would support the Democratic Party’s platform and candidates.
“To blindly support any candidate solely because of party affiliation irrespective of their moral views is wrong,” Jerry Falwell, Jr., the chancellor and president of Liberty University, wrote in a statement. He explains: “The 2008 Democratic platform has taken an extreme turn to the left on social issues. For the first time it supports federal funding of abortion and repeal of the federal Defense of Marriage Act, a law passed overwhelmingly by a bi-partisan Congress and signed by President Bill Clinton.”
Basically, Liberty officials don’t want to give students money and use of the school’s name to support political candidates who push a pro-choice agenda. While much of the media is crying foul, Falwell’s reasoning makes sense to me, and it seems the university is under no legal obligation to support a College Democrats club. (Still, my advice to Liberty would be to either: (1) get rid of all political party organizations, as Brigham Young University-Idaho did last month, and encourage students to start a pro-life political action club, or (2) recognize that your pro-life, Democratic students are engaged in an uphill battle with their party and should be supported.)
I’d pose this question to Liberty’s College Democrats: Why dedicate your support to candidates just because of their party affiliation? Similarly, I’m asking pro-life, Republican voters: Why support a party just because of its platform? Every voter should be supporting the candidates and party whose actions align with the issues that are most important to us. Why support mere rhetoric?
And I’m wondering, has the “Pro-life Party” been active enough on this major component of its platform? Here’s what I’m thinking: The Republican Party has benefited from its platform position on abortion by drawing in Christians who might not otherwise agree with Republican political positions. Some folks have gritted their teeth and voted for Republican candidates they never would have picked, save for their pro-life stance. It’s time for the Republicans to make good on those promises that George W. Bush made as the Party’s top representative.
But why am I spouting about this now, when the presidency and Congress are both controlled by the Democratic Party? What can the Republicans do?
For starters, Republican leaders have nothing to lose if they push pro-life legislation now—the presidency isn’t up for grabs any time soon. And they have everything to lose if they don’t. A number of my Christian friends are disillusioned with both parties: The Democratic Party doesn’t recognize its pro-life voices, and the Republican Party seems more focused on holding on to the Christian vote than moving on pro-life issues. Some Christians who are Republicans have voiced that they feel used. Some of my friends have even re-registered with no party affiliation.
Gallup’s poll last month also found that 70 percent of Republicans identify as pro-life—an increase of 10 percent in the past year. On the Democratic side, there’s been no change. To the Democratic Party, I’d like to say, “You can’t afford to lose your pro-life voters— perhaps you should throw more recognition to pro-life voices.” But I suppose they’re not interested in the rants of a life-long Republican like me. So I’ll say to my own party, “The Republican Party has all it needs to make headway on the abortion issue: a majority in the American public, and a voter base that unites when it’s happy. Get to it, or you’re gonna lose more of your party faithful.”
If registered Republican voters are focused on making abortion illegal, or at least less accessible, then they need to push—hard—on their representatives to make this a priority. And then, if nothing happens, they need to recognize that their party can’t or won’t do it for them.
I’m giving the GOP a deadline of December 31, 2009. If I don’t see major headlines about a pro-life push from the Republican Party, it pains me to say I’ll be registering as partyless on January 1, 2010. In light of the Republican Party’s current opportunity to act, if they don’t make a concerted effort to do so soon, then there really isn’t a political party that has a true pro-life position.
by Holly Vicente Robaina
Liberty University boots Democratic club; inspires Holly to take a stand.
June 3, 2009 | Today's Christian Woman
I’m publically issuing this ultimatum to the Republican Party: Take a pro-life stand in a big, visible way, or I’m leaving.
TCW readers will recall that just two months ago, I suggested Christians reserve discussion on abortion for the right time and place. I’m seizing the opportunity presented by a Gallup poll conducted this May, which found 51 percent of surveyed Americans identify as “pro-life,” while 42 percent identify as pro-choice. Get this: It’s the first time there’s been a pro-life majority since Gallup began conducting the poll in 1995.
Additionally, I’ve been inspired by a bit of controversy at Liberty University, the private university in Lynchburg, Va., that was founded by the late Rev. Jerry Falwell. In May, Liberty officials notified the student Democratic club that their status as a University-sponsored organization was being revoked. The reason: the club’s charter stated that members would support the Democratic Party’s platform and candidates.
“To blindly support any candidate solely because of party affiliation irrespective of their moral views is wrong,” Jerry Falwell, Jr., the chancellor and president of Liberty University, wrote in a statement. He explains: “The 2008 Democratic platform has taken an extreme turn to the left on social issues. For the first time it supports federal funding of abortion and repeal of the federal Defense of Marriage Act, a law passed overwhelmingly by a bi-partisan Congress and signed by President Bill Clinton.”
Basically, Liberty officials don’t want to give students money and use of the school’s name to support political candidates who push a pro-choice agenda. While much of the media is crying foul, Falwell’s reasoning makes sense to me, and it seems the university is under no legal obligation to support a College Democrats club. (Still, my advice to Liberty would be to either: (1) get rid of all political party organizations, as Brigham Young University-Idaho did last month, and encourage students to start a pro-life political action club, or (2) recognize that your pro-life, Democratic students are engaged in an uphill battle with their party and should be supported.)
I’d pose this question to Liberty’s College Democrats: Why dedicate your support to candidates just because of their party affiliation? Similarly, I’m asking pro-life, Republican voters: Why support a party just because of its platform? Every voter should be supporting the candidates and party whose actions align with the issues that are most important to us. Why support mere rhetoric?
And I’m wondering, has the “Pro-life Party” been active enough on this major component of its platform? Here’s what I’m thinking: The Republican Party has benefited from its platform position on abortion by drawing in Christians who might not otherwise agree with Republican political positions. Some folks have gritted their teeth and voted for Republican candidates they never would have picked, save for their pro-life stance. It’s time for the Republicans to make good on those promises that George W. Bush made as the Party’s top representative.
But why am I spouting about this now, when the presidency and Congress are both controlled by the Democratic Party? What can the Republicans do?
For starters, Republican leaders have nothing to lose if they push pro-life legislation now—the presidency isn’t up for grabs any time soon. And they have everything to lose if they don’t. A number of my Christian friends are disillusioned with both parties: The Democratic Party doesn’t recognize its pro-life voices, and the Republican Party seems more focused on holding on to the Christian vote than moving on pro-life issues. Some Christians who are Republicans have voiced that they feel used. Some of my friends have even re-registered with no party affiliation.
Gallup’s poll last month also found that 70 percent of Republicans identify as pro-life—an increase of 10 percent in the past year. On the Democratic side, there’s been no change. To the Democratic Party, I’d like to say, “You can’t afford to lose your pro-life voters— perhaps you should throw more recognition to pro-life voices.” But I suppose they’re not interested in the rants of a life-long Republican like me. So I’ll say to my own party, “The Republican Party has all it needs to make headway on the abortion issue: a majority in the American public, and a voter base that unites when it’s happy. Get to it, or you’re gonna lose more of your party faithful.”
If registered Republican voters are focused on making abortion illegal, or at least less accessible, then they need to push—hard—on their representatives to make this a priority. And then, if nothing happens, they need to recognize that their party can’t or won’t do it for them.
I’m giving the GOP a deadline of December 31, 2009. If I don’t see major headlines about a pro-life push from the Republican Party, it pains me to say I’ll be registering as partyless on January 1, 2010. In light of the Republican Party’s current opportunity to act, if they don’t make a concerted effort to do so soon, then there really isn’t a political party that has a true pro-life position.
A Time to Mourn (April 22, 2009)
A Time to Mourn
by Holly Vicente Robaina
We laugh together, play together, and celebrate together. Why is it so difficult to cry together?
April 22, 2009 | Today's Christian Woman
Within the past week, I lost two friends. One was a Christian, a member of my church. She committed suicide. The other was an atheist, a high-school buddy. I found out that she died of a drug overdose.
Mourning is a struggle for me, primarily because it's difficult to tell others I'm sad. I'm afraid they won't understand or won't care. So I've been walking around with a pleasant expression on my face, telling people "I'm fine" when they ask, "How are you doing?"
I'm not fine. I'm angry with my friends who took their lives. Why did they give up? I'm angry with myself. Was there something more I could have done? I'm angry with God. Why, God, did you allow their pain to become unbearable? Why didn't you send more help? Why didn't you intervene?
My Christian friend (I'll call her "Elaine") had an incurable illness that caused chronic pain. My atheist friend (I'll call her "Nora") was, I just found out, being abused by a family member when we were in high school. I wonder why Nora never told me. And I wonder what I might have said if she did.
When friends are hurting, my first response is to try to alleviate that pain. Seems lots of folks do this. You've probably heard many Christians say, "I'll pray for you," and then talk of God's love and pray he'll bring peace and comfort. This is exactly what I did with Elaine. Just a few months ago, I held her hand and prayed, "Father, please heal your daughter Elaine's body. You know she can't handle this constant pain; please take it away. Please hear her cries and comfort her." I told Elaine how much I loved her, how much God loved her, and how her Father wanted to hold her in his arms.
In some cases, God heals and restores. Sometimes, he eases pain immediately. But sometimes, there's no miracle, or even any relief. There's only profound sadness. In A Grief Observed, C.S. Lewis wrote about losing his wife, Joy, to cancer: "Where is God? ? Go to Him when your need is desperate, when all other help is in vain, and what do you find? A door slammed in your face, and a sound of bolting and double bolting on the inside. After that silence. You may as well turn away."
I don't think C.S. Lewis would have been comforted by the words, "God loves you, and so do I. I'll pray for you." And I now wonder if Elaine was sitting there in pain as I prayed, thinking, God loves me? Then why doesn't he do something? And you--do you have any clue what it's like to be in constant, physical agony?
Sadly, I never contemplated Elaine's pain. And it's not the first time I've made that mistake.
Two years ago, I sent an e-mail to former Los Angeles Times religion reporter Bill Lobdell. Once a devout Christian, Bill became an atheist after concluding that a good God wouldn't allow something as horrific as widespread child abuse perpetrated by Catholic priests. (Bill wrote about his loss of faith in his book, Losing My Religion, released in February.) I'd read about his faith crisis, then typed up some encouraging words and promised to pray for him.
But I didn't reflect on how Bill was feeling. In hindsight, I wonder: Should I also have offered to mourn with him? Should I have read about the sex-scandal victims and allowed myself to feel the despair that Bill was experiencing? You know what they say about hindsight. How I deeply wish I'd told Elaine, "I don't know why God hasn't healed you. It hurts my heart so much to see you continue to suffer. Let's tell God what we're feeling right now."
I wish I'd mourned with Elaine and Bill. Too often in my life, I've expressed an overabundance of "Christian optimism": I encourage others in hopes of counteracting their pain. While it's great to exhort--kind words usually do help--we must consider: Is encouragement what my friend needs most right now?
We should honestly evaluate our words before we speak:
Am I using encouragement as a way to ignore my friend's pain because I don't want to make the time or effort to deal with her hurts?
Do I really mean what I'm saying to my friend, or am I just rattling off polite cliches?
Do I expect my words will fix everything - am I acting like I can do a better job than the Comforter?
If I make promises to my friend, such as praying for her or checking on her later, am I going to keep them?
Years ago, an agnostic friend called with some sad news: Our college classmate had committed suicide. We spent time on the phone verbalizing our sorrow and confusion. He said kind things to me, but didn't try to cheer me up. Later, he called again to ask how I was doing. I felt very close to my friend and grateful we'd shared the burden.
I've noticed that some friends who aren't believers have a better grasp of mourning than I do. Perhaps they're more willing to cry with others because they don't have the option of asking God for comfort. I'm grateful I've got a loving Father to turn to in tough times, but sometimes, I exercise that option a bit too vigorously. I ask God to shelter me from all physical and emotional pain - essentially, to keep me perpetually happy. Additionally, I've suppressed and ignored my pain, telling myself, This, too, shall pass. God will eventually set everything right.
And God will. But God does allow suffering in this life because humans need to experience it. Pain reminds us there's something wrong with the world: It's broken due to sin. Pain calls us to action: We're reminded that the only true hope is found in relationship with God.
Pain can draw us to God and into community. It forces us to admit we're not self-sufficient. And when we mourn with others, we recognize we're not alone. Ever wondered why Jesus wept as he stood outside of Lazarus' tomb? He could have encouraged the mourners--"Everything's OK, folks. God loves you. Peace be with you"--and then raised Lazarus. Instead, he took time to show love for his friends by crying with them.
Right now, I'm going to go cry with my Father. And tomorrow, I need to tell a few good friends how I'm really feeling.
Blessings,
Holly
Do you sometimes find it difficult to tell people that you're hurting? What prevents you from mourning with others? When friends are suffering, how do you support them?
by Holly Vicente Robaina
We laugh together, play together, and celebrate together. Why is it so difficult to cry together?
April 22, 2009 | Today's Christian Woman
Within the past week, I lost two friends. One was a Christian, a member of my church. She committed suicide. The other was an atheist, a high-school buddy. I found out that she died of a drug overdose.
Mourning is a struggle for me, primarily because it's difficult to tell others I'm sad. I'm afraid they won't understand or won't care. So I've been walking around with a pleasant expression on my face, telling people "I'm fine" when they ask, "How are you doing?"
I'm not fine. I'm angry with my friends who took their lives. Why did they give up? I'm angry with myself. Was there something more I could have done? I'm angry with God. Why, God, did you allow their pain to become unbearable? Why didn't you send more help? Why didn't you intervene?
My Christian friend (I'll call her "Elaine") had an incurable illness that caused chronic pain. My atheist friend (I'll call her "Nora") was, I just found out, being abused by a family member when we were in high school. I wonder why Nora never told me. And I wonder what I might have said if she did.
When friends are hurting, my first response is to try to alleviate that pain. Seems lots of folks do this. You've probably heard many Christians say, "I'll pray for you," and then talk of God's love and pray he'll bring peace and comfort. This is exactly what I did with Elaine. Just a few months ago, I held her hand and prayed, "Father, please heal your daughter Elaine's body. You know she can't handle this constant pain; please take it away. Please hear her cries and comfort her." I told Elaine how much I loved her, how much God loved her, and how her Father wanted to hold her in his arms.
In some cases, God heals and restores. Sometimes, he eases pain immediately. But sometimes, there's no miracle, or even any relief. There's only profound sadness. In A Grief Observed, C.S. Lewis wrote about losing his wife, Joy, to cancer: "Where is God? ? Go to Him when your need is desperate, when all other help is in vain, and what do you find? A door slammed in your face, and a sound of bolting and double bolting on the inside. After that silence. You may as well turn away."
I don't think C.S. Lewis would have been comforted by the words, "God loves you, and so do I. I'll pray for you." And I now wonder if Elaine was sitting there in pain as I prayed, thinking, God loves me? Then why doesn't he do something? And you--do you have any clue what it's like to be in constant, physical agony?
Sadly, I never contemplated Elaine's pain. And it's not the first time I've made that mistake.
Two years ago, I sent an e-mail to former Los Angeles Times religion reporter Bill Lobdell. Once a devout Christian, Bill became an atheist after concluding that a good God wouldn't allow something as horrific as widespread child abuse perpetrated by Catholic priests. (Bill wrote about his loss of faith in his book, Losing My Religion, released in February.) I'd read about his faith crisis, then typed up some encouraging words and promised to pray for him.
But I didn't reflect on how Bill was feeling. In hindsight, I wonder: Should I also have offered to mourn with him? Should I have read about the sex-scandal victims and allowed myself to feel the despair that Bill was experiencing? You know what they say about hindsight. How I deeply wish I'd told Elaine, "I don't know why God hasn't healed you. It hurts my heart so much to see you continue to suffer. Let's tell God what we're feeling right now."
I wish I'd mourned with Elaine and Bill. Too often in my life, I've expressed an overabundance of "Christian optimism": I encourage others in hopes of counteracting their pain. While it's great to exhort--kind words usually do help--we must consider: Is encouragement what my friend needs most right now?
We should honestly evaluate our words before we speak:
Am I using encouragement as a way to ignore my friend's pain because I don't want to make the time or effort to deal with her hurts?
Do I really mean what I'm saying to my friend, or am I just rattling off polite cliches?
Do I expect my words will fix everything - am I acting like I can do a better job than the Comforter?
If I make promises to my friend, such as praying for her or checking on her later, am I going to keep them?
Years ago, an agnostic friend called with some sad news: Our college classmate had committed suicide. We spent time on the phone verbalizing our sorrow and confusion. He said kind things to me, but didn't try to cheer me up. Later, he called again to ask how I was doing. I felt very close to my friend and grateful we'd shared the burden.
I've noticed that some friends who aren't believers have a better grasp of mourning than I do. Perhaps they're more willing to cry with others because they don't have the option of asking God for comfort. I'm grateful I've got a loving Father to turn to in tough times, but sometimes, I exercise that option a bit too vigorously. I ask God to shelter me from all physical and emotional pain - essentially, to keep me perpetually happy. Additionally, I've suppressed and ignored my pain, telling myself, This, too, shall pass. God will eventually set everything right.
And God will. But God does allow suffering in this life because humans need to experience it. Pain reminds us there's something wrong with the world: It's broken due to sin. Pain calls us to action: We're reminded that the only true hope is found in relationship with God.
Pain can draw us to God and into community. It forces us to admit we're not self-sufficient. And when we mourn with others, we recognize we're not alone. Ever wondered why Jesus wept as he stood outside of Lazarus' tomb? He could have encouraged the mourners--"Everything's OK, folks. God loves you. Peace be with you"--and then raised Lazarus. Instead, he took time to show love for his friends by crying with them.
Right now, I'm going to go cry with my Father. And tomorrow, I need to tell a few good friends how I'm really feeling.
Blessings,
Holly
Do you sometimes find it difficult to tell people that you're hurting? What prevents you from mourning with others? When friends are suffering, how do you support them?
A Church Without Issues (March 25, 2009)
A Church Without Issues
by Holly Vicente Robaina
Which political or social issue should we rally around? Maybe none.
March 25, 2009 | Today's Christian Woman
If you could pick one issue for the Christian church to represent, what would it be? Abortion or same-sex marriage? Environmental stewardship or poverty? Morality?
Some evangelicals are tossing this question around in light of the passing of the old guard: Jerry Falwell died last May, and many other prominent Christian leaders including Billy Graham, Pat Robertson, and Tim LaHaye have retired or handed over the reins of their ministries. Earlier this month, James Dobson resigned as board chairman of Focus on the Family.
The mere mention of these men elicits either a warm smile or a cold shoulder because they all were vocal on some issue. For good or bad, their words have shaped the image of the Christian church in America - both the way we see ourselves, and the way non-Christians view us. As we await new representatives who will become spokespeople for the church, one thing is highly probable: We'll identify these leaders as proponents or opponents of some issue.
And which issue will that be? John Whitehead, founder of the Rutherford Institute, told the Washington Times that evangelicals currently don't have an issue to rally around. "It used to be the pro-life movement, but I am not sure there is an issue now," he said. "The issue evangelicals key on is the gay movement, but they have lost that issue. There is no cause for a leader to emerge in now."
Say what? We don't have a "cause"?
My friend Brooke offered this profound response to Whitehead's words: "Shouldn't the cause for evangelicals forever and always be evangelism? I wonder if the fact that we have become a political constituency and force has caused us to lose sight of the main thing. I also wonder if the strong public moral stands that evangelicals have taken in the political arena have undermined our ability and effectiveness in presenting the gospel."
Brooke's words really got me thinking: Perhaps the church has wrongly defined itself as an organization that's only interested in backing particular political and social issues. Perhaps we instead need to be defined by the prime directive Jesus gave us: to make disciples.
Yet it appears the church has been losing disciples. According to the American Religious Identification Survey, released by Trinity College earlier this month, the number of Americans who identify as "Christian" has dropped 10 percent in the last two decades, from 86 percent in 1990 to 76 percent in 2008. Mark Silk of Trinity College suggested one factor for this drop: "In the 1990s, it really sunk in on the American public generally that there was a long-lasting ?religious right' connected to a political party, and that turned a lot of people the other way," he told CNN, noting the connection of Christian groups such as the Moral Majority and Focus on the Family to the Republican Party.
There's tremendous danger in defining Christianity solely as a social justice group or a morality enforcement agency. If we end world hunger or make abortion illegal, we'll save lives. But if we lose the gospel message in the process, we'll lose souls.
I'm not suggesting that Christians completely give up political and social activism. Rather, we need to analyze our conversations. Ask yourself: How frequently am I sharing my faith? Do I tend to discuss political or social issues more often than spiritual matters? Could my neighbor or co-worker identify 10 things about me that have nothing to do with my political leanings?
There's a time and a place for us to be passionate about political and social issues. In his autobiography, Surprised by Joy, the late Christian apologist C.S. Lewis refused to moralize on the homosexual activity he'd witnessed in boarding school. Why? For one, he was sticking to the purpose of the book, which was to discuss his journey to faith. I deeply admire that Lewis kept his focus on evangelism, and suspect he received some criticism for it. Second, Lewis recognized that others were better equipped to discuss homosexuality, since he'd never personally struggled with it.
So here's my first radical proposal: Christians should reserve discussion about abortion and homosexuality solely for these situations: (1) if you're at the forefront of a campaign on one of these issues that involves petitioning the government; (2) if one of these issues comes up for a vote; (3) if someone who is struggling with one of these things asks for your help; or (4) if someone asks for your opinion. I'd add this caveat to the fourth situation: You shouldn't offer your opinion until you've researched the issue and can articulate your stance in a diplomatic manner.
My second radical proposal is associated with the first: Christians should focus on making disciples. Let's get our cause back in line with the one Christ gave the church. And let's demand that our church leaders focus on the same mission that our Founder gave us.
Blessings,
Holly
by Holly Vicente Robaina
Which political or social issue should we rally around? Maybe none.
March 25, 2009 | Today's Christian Woman
If you could pick one issue for the Christian church to represent, what would it be? Abortion or same-sex marriage? Environmental stewardship or poverty? Morality?
Some evangelicals are tossing this question around in light of the passing of the old guard: Jerry Falwell died last May, and many other prominent Christian leaders including Billy Graham, Pat Robertson, and Tim LaHaye have retired or handed over the reins of their ministries. Earlier this month, James Dobson resigned as board chairman of Focus on the Family.
The mere mention of these men elicits either a warm smile or a cold shoulder because they all were vocal on some issue. For good or bad, their words have shaped the image of the Christian church in America - both the way we see ourselves, and the way non-Christians view us. As we await new representatives who will become spokespeople for the church, one thing is highly probable: We'll identify these leaders as proponents or opponents of some issue.
And which issue will that be? John Whitehead, founder of the Rutherford Institute, told the Washington Times that evangelicals currently don't have an issue to rally around. "It used to be the pro-life movement, but I am not sure there is an issue now," he said. "The issue evangelicals key on is the gay movement, but they have lost that issue. There is no cause for a leader to emerge in now."
Say what? We don't have a "cause"?
My friend Brooke offered this profound response to Whitehead's words: "Shouldn't the cause for evangelicals forever and always be evangelism? I wonder if the fact that we have become a political constituency and force has caused us to lose sight of the main thing. I also wonder if the strong public moral stands that evangelicals have taken in the political arena have undermined our ability and effectiveness in presenting the gospel."
Brooke's words really got me thinking: Perhaps the church has wrongly defined itself as an organization that's only interested in backing particular political and social issues. Perhaps we instead need to be defined by the prime directive Jesus gave us: to make disciples.
Yet it appears the church has been losing disciples. According to the American Religious Identification Survey, released by Trinity College earlier this month, the number of Americans who identify as "Christian" has dropped 10 percent in the last two decades, from 86 percent in 1990 to 76 percent in 2008. Mark Silk of Trinity College suggested one factor for this drop: "In the 1990s, it really sunk in on the American public generally that there was a long-lasting ?religious right' connected to a political party, and that turned a lot of people the other way," he told CNN, noting the connection of Christian groups such as the Moral Majority and Focus on the Family to the Republican Party.
There's tremendous danger in defining Christianity solely as a social justice group or a morality enforcement agency. If we end world hunger or make abortion illegal, we'll save lives. But if we lose the gospel message in the process, we'll lose souls.
I'm not suggesting that Christians completely give up political and social activism. Rather, we need to analyze our conversations. Ask yourself: How frequently am I sharing my faith? Do I tend to discuss political or social issues more often than spiritual matters? Could my neighbor or co-worker identify 10 things about me that have nothing to do with my political leanings?
There's a time and a place for us to be passionate about political and social issues. In his autobiography, Surprised by Joy, the late Christian apologist C.S. Lewis refused to moralize on the homosexual activity he'd witnessed in boarding school. Why? For one, he was sticking to the purpose of the book, which was to discuss his journey to faith. I deeply admire that Lewis kept his focus on evangelism, and suspect he received some criticism for it. Second, Lewis recognized that others were better equipped to discuss homosexuality, since he'd never personally struggled with it.
So here's my first radical proposal: Christians should reserve discussion about abortion and homosexuality solely for these situations: (1) if you're at the forefront of a campaign on one of these issues that involves petitioning the government; (2) if one of these issues comes up for a vote; (3) if someone who is struggling with one of these things asks for your help; or (4) if someone asks for your opinion. I'd add this caveat to the fourth situation: You shouldn't offer your opinion until you've researched the issue and can articulate your stance in a diplomatic manner.
My second radical proposal is associated with the first: Christians should focus on making disciples. Let's get our cause back in line with the one Christ gave the church. And let's demand that our church leaders focus on the same mission that our Founder gave us.
Blessings,
Holly
Divided, We Fall (February 25, 2009)
Divided, We Fall
by Holly Vicente Robaina
Republicans need to get over their loss and support our new president.
February 25, 2009 | Today's Christian Woman
Several months ago I wrote about the presidential elections, but wouldn't reveal the candidate I was backing. Now that we have a new president in office - and the fight is obviously over - I figure it's OK to tell you this: My guy didn't win.
I'm what you'd call one of the Republican "party faithful": I've done phone banks, canvassing, rallies, and fund-raisers. I've visited the RNC headquarters in Washington, D.C., and met several Republican leaders. Perhaps my most impressive GOP credential: I once shook hands with Mr. NRA, Charlton Heston. Yes, I'm a Republican through and through. And yet, I'm optimistic about our new commander-in-chief, who happens to be a member of the Democratic Party.
It saddens me that some Republicans are acting as if President Barack Obama's inauguration never happened. Salon.com writer Thomas F. Schaller noticed that the RNC still portrayed George W. Bush as president on its website even 10 days into the Obama administration.
Indeed, if all Republicans were like the ones portrayed in the documentary Right America: Feeling Wronged, which aired on HBO last week, the American population should have decreased 50 percent by now. In her documentary, filmmaker Alexandra Pelosi interviewed Republicans on the campaign trail who'd vowed to leave the country if John McCain didn't win the presidency. The documentary included footage of grown men and women bawling as they declared their allegiance to McCain - and their disgust toward Obama. Some interviewees proudly proclaimed they'd continue wearing their "Obama sucks" t-shirts regardless of the election results. When Pelosi asked one McCain supporter how he would "feel about America" if his candidate lost, the man tearfully replied, "It's going to sour me. I'll do what I can. I'll keep my head up."
As I watched, I initially was offended that Pelosi would stereotype Republicans as crybabies who'd turn our backs on our country if we lost political control. Then I realized: This does reflect how a percentage of the American population truly feels. I've heard folks say they'll be in mourning for the next four years - some have even dressed entirely in black. Personally, I think their expressions of distaste are in poor taste.
Don't get me wrong: I'm proud to be a Republican. (I'll surely be voting for the GOP candidate in 2012.) But first and foremost, I'm proud to be an American. My commitment to my country transcends party lines and ideologies.
So I respect the decision of the American people, and have been looking for common ground with my new president by listening to his speeches on YouTube. I've discovered President Obama believes (just like me!) that a great nation is formed through the efforts of hard-working individuals. Yet we cannot be great, he says, unless we work hard together.
He backed up this sentiment by launching a non-partisan website, USAService.org, which lists community service projects within local neighborhoods. I did a search on the site using my zip code and found numerous volunteer opportunities: planting trees, beach clean-ups, mentoring programs, food drives, cancer research fundraisers, even shelving books for local schools.
President Obama's focus on unity and community - and his rallying words, "Yes we can!" - is just what America needs right now. For too long, our focus has been entirely on the individual: Each person values her own work, her efforts, and her rights above everything else. This me-centered attitude causes individuals to leave community - and to break commitments - whenever things don't go their way. Americans do this with increasing frequency in marriages. (Do I feel satisfied with my spouse? Would I be happier with someone else? Is this marriage working for me?)
The American church, too, has been infected with an overemphasis on the individual. (Am I tired of the music? Do I feel the pastor has lost his charisma? Did someone at church offend me?) Any bit of personal discomfort becomes sufficient reason to look for a new church. Even worship and spiritual growth become individual endeavors: We focus on a personal savior, and personal relationship with God solely through individual prayer and study. In reading the Bible, our focus becomes, What does this passage mean to me? It's a tragedy when we completely ignore the importance of the body of Christ. (Check out my blog from last month, where I discussed how Christian community is necessary for an individual's spiritual growth.)
A couple years ago, when my friend Ed Gilbreath's book Reconciliation Blues: A Black Evangelical's Inside View of White Christianity (IVP) was published, critics thanked him for exposing a major problem in the church - racial division - which has been largely unaddressed. However, some said his book fell short because it didn't offer a complete solution to the problem! Heaven help us when we think it's acceptable to place the burdens of the church on the shoulders of individual members.
The same holds true for our new president; one man isn't going to save America. President Obama is wise to recognize this - that's why he's called on all Americans to roll up our sleeves and get to work, together. I hope this communal effort will meet with success, and that the Christian church will be the first to model it. After all, we're in this together. Divided, we will fall.
Blessings,
Holly
by Holly Vicente Robaina
Republicans need to get over their loss and support our new president.
February 25, 2009 | Today's Christian Woman
Several months ago I wrote about the presidential elections, but wouldn't reveal the candidate I was backing. Now that we have a new president in office - and the fight is obviously over - I figure it's OK to tell you this: My guy didn't win.
I'm what you'd call one of the Republican "party faithful": I've done phone banks, canvassing, rallies, and fund-raisers. I've visited the RNC headquarters in Washington, D.C., and met several Republican leaders. Perhaps my most impressive GOP credential: I once shook hands with Mr. NRA, Charlton Heston. Yes, I'm a Republican through and through. And yet, I'm optimistic about our new commander-in-chief, who happens to be a member of the Democratic Party.
It saddens me that some Republicans are acting as if President Barack Obama's inauguration never happened. Salon.com writer Thomas F. Schaller noticed that the RNC still portrayed George W. Bush as president on its website even 10 days into the Obama administration.
Indeed, if all Republicans were like the ones portrayed in the documentary Right America: Feeling Wronged, which aired on HBO last week, the American population should have decreased 50 percent by now. In her documentary, filmmaker Alexandra Pelosi interviewed Republicans on the campaign trail who'd vowed to leave the country if John McCain didn't win the presidency. The documentary included footage of grown men and women bawling as they declared their allegiance to McCain - and their disgust toward Obama. Some interviewees proudly proclaimed they'd continue wearing their "Obama sucks" t-shirts regardless of the election results. When Pelosi asked one McCain supporter how he would "feel about America" if his candidate lost, the man tearfully replied, "It's going to sour me. I'll do what I can. I'll keep my head up."
As I watched, I initially was offended that Pelosi would stereotype Republicans as crybabies who'd turn our backs on our country if we lost political control. Then I realized: This does reflect how a percentage of the American population truly feels. I've heard folks say they'll be in mourning for the next four years - some have even dressed entirely in black. Personally, I think their expressions of distaste are in poor taste.
Don't get me wrong: I'm proud to be a Republican. (I'll surely be voting for the GOP candidate in 2012.) But first and foremost, I'm proud to be an American. My commitment to my country transcends party lines and ideologies.
So I respect the decision of the American people, and have been looking for common ground with my new president by listening to his speeches on YouTube. I've discovered President Obama believes (just like me!) that a great nation is formed through the efforts of hard-working individuals. Yet we cannot be great, he says, unless we work hard together.
He backed up this sentiment by launching a non-partisan website, USAService.org, which lists community service projects within local neighborhoods. I did a search on the site using my zip code and found numerous volunteer opportunities: planting trees, beach clean-ups, mentoring programs, food drives, cancer research fundraisers, even shelving books for local schools.
President Obama's focus on unity and community - and his rallying words, "Yes we can!" - is just what America needs right now. For too long, our focus has been entirely on the individual: Each person values her own work, her efforts, and her rights above everything else. This me-centered attitude causes individuals to leave community - and to break commitments - whenever things don't go their way. Americans do this with increasing frequency in marriages. (Do I feel satisfied with my spouse? Would I be happier with someone else? Is this marriage working for me?)
The American church, too, has been infected with an overemphasis on the individual. (Am I tired of the music? Do I feel the pastor has lost his charisma? Did someone at church offend me?) Any bit of personal discomfort becomes sufficient reason to look for a new church. Even worship and spiritual growth become individual endeavors: We focus on a personal savior, and personal relationship with God solely through individual prayer and study. In reading the Bible, our focus becomes, What does this passage mean to me? It's a tragedy when we completely ignore the importance of the body of Christ. (Check out my blog from last month, where I discussed how Christian community is necessary for an individual's spiritual growth.)
A couple years ago, when my friend Ed Gilbreath's book Reconciliation Blues: A Black Evangelical's Inside View of White Christianity (IVP) was published, critics thanked him for exposing a major problem in the church - racial division - which has been largely unaddressed. However, some said his book fell short because it didn't offer a complete solution to the problem! Heaven help us when we think it's acceptable to place the burdens of the church on the shoulders of individual members.
The same holds true for our new president; one man isn't going to save America. President Obama is wise to recognize this - that's why he's called on all Americans to roll up our sleeves and get to work, together. I hope this communal effort will meet with success, and that the Christian church will be the first to model it. After all, we're in this together. Divided, we will fall.
Blessings,
Holly
Spiritual Resolutions (January 28, 2009)
Spiritual Resolutions
by Holly Vicente Robaina
Do you stick to your spiritual goals?
January 28, 2009 | Today's Christian Woman
Have you broken your New Year's resolutions yet?
I'm admittedly cynical about making lists of goals because I've seen so many people try this and fail. Year after year, I see my gym fill to capacity during the first week of January, then empty out before the end of the month. I've noticed the same pattern at my church. There are plenty of people who attend a service or two, and they seem enthusiastic to get closer to God and develop relationships with other Christians. Yet they don't come back.
I used to think people - including me - broke resolutions because we weren't truly committed to our goals. Then I noticed that I've often failed at things I deeply wanted to achieve. For instance, I've long held the goal of spending quality, daily time with God. While my devotional time is sometimes wonderful, warm, and intimate, there are many days when my mind wanders. My prayers are interrupted by thoughts such as, We're out of milk - need to buy some today. . . . And what are we having for dinner? . . . Ugh, do I have any clean underpants to wear to the grocery store? I end up repeatedly apologizing to God for the lack of quality in our time together.
Setting spiritual goals can be tremendously frustrating. I often hear Christian friends express defeat: "How can I be like Jesus when I'm so not like Jesus?" "How am I supposed to love my enemies when I don't even love my best friends consistently?" "Love AND joy, peace AND patience? As if. My best day is one I can get through without having a bad attitude!"
Here are a few mistakes I've made in striving for spiritual growth:
1) Trying to achieve spiritual goals solely as an individual. One definition of "resolution" is an "expression of consensus" - a group decides to uphold a decision or standard. The Christian church has many such resolutions: We resolve to work together and bring the Gospel to the world, to worship God together, and to grow spiritually together as the body of Christ.
Yet many of us instead focus on do-it-yourself personal improvement. Why don't we ask other Christians to support our own spiritual goals? Perhaps we're ashamed of our weaknesses, or perhaps we're convinced that going it alone helps us rely on God. While we do need to spend time alone with God, we equally need the accountability and spiritual gifts of other Christians for spiritual growth.
When I began losing the sight in my left eye a couple years ago, I initially didn't tell anyone at church. I figured God wanted me to learn to trust and rely on him more. My vision got worse, to the point that reading was extremely difficult and I couldn't drive at night. I broke down one Sunday morning and told two friends about my pain. They immediately prayed for healing - something I never would have prayed for myself. When my eyesight did return a few weeks later, I realized God had illustrated how much I need other Christians: I needed encouragement from my friends, and their faith and prayers.
2) Missing the lessons of failure. Earlier this month, German billionaire Adolf Merckle took his life by lying on the tracks in front of an oncoming train. He'd made some financial decisions that resulted in the downfall of the business empire he'd spent his life building. Still, his suicide baffled many because Merckle, an evangelical Christian, wasn't one to be fazed by the loss of money. He was a man of modest means who lived in a flat rather than a mansion, he didn't have bodyguards or even a security camera, and he bicycled to work every day. Rather, The Telegraph reported, Merckle's loved ones "blame his demise on a complex combination of pride, guilt over what he saw as failing his family, and, perhaps most importantly, loss of control."
We've all experienced those devastating lows that come from personal failings. Failure is especially jarring when we're trying to do the right thing. Some years ago, a pastor friend saw one of her ministry projects fail. It's one of her most painful memories, but in retrospect, she's glad that God let her plans crumble. She realized that she'd been focused on attaining her own goals rather than on letting God shape her and her ministry. The loss taught her to put God's will before good intentions.
The apostle Paul recognized that one of his personal struggles was spiritually helpful: He said it kept him from becoming conceited. And while Paul initially asked God to take away this "thorn in the flesh" - he reasoned that the problem hampered his ministry efforts - God's reply was, "'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness'" (2 Corinthians 12:9). Perhaps we need our own thorn to keep us from prideful self-sufficiency.
Another friend recently expressed frustration that she's still grappling with the same issues she's surrendered to God a zillion times. It's tough when God asks us to grow in an area where we've already done so much painful work. But failure is key to spiritual growth: When we fail, we run to God in acknowledgement that we need his strength and mercy.
3) Not striving for the highest moral standard. My small group leader posed the question, "What would the perfect Christian look like?" After arguing extensively that no Christian can be perfect, I finally got his point: We need to prepare for the day when we'll live and rule in God's kingdom.
Too often, we get frustrated that we can't keep God's laws, and so we give up trying. Or, we set minimal goals, patting ourselves on the back when we refrain from cursing out loud, or when we're civil to someone we can't stand. Such minimal goals are inadequate preparation for meeting our Creator.
Or, we attempt to be good because we think God's top priority for us is moral excellence. Here's the shocker: Our No. 1 goal isn't to reach moral perfection - it's to love God (Deuteronomy 6:5, Mark 12:28-33). With this in mind, we should strive for the highest moral standard because our efforts (and failings) teach us that sin is low, ugly, stupid, and futile. In other words, we're learning to hate sin (to hate everything that's in opposition to God), and thus, to love God.
4) Not setting specific spiritual goals. In his article "Radical Discipleship," Doug Newton suggests that the church must become more specific in its resolve for spiritual excellence. He asserts that merely rattling off the fruit of the Spirit doesn't cut it: "Every other world religion and philosophy prizes and advocates most, if not all, of those traits. What New Ager is not hanging a crystal or two to draw more love in and out of his life? What Eastern yoga practitioner is not bending and breathing her way toward inner peace? People as diverse as Dr. Phil and the local imam probably talk as much about the virtues of patience or self-control as Dr. Dobson and the local pastor." Newton continues: "As long as the church is calling people to nothing more than those generic traits, her people will become only about as Christian as the local cashier who's reading the latest Stephen Covey self-improvement best seller."
I'm currently writing up my own long-term spiritual resolutions as I ponder the question, "What would the perfect Christian look like?" Want some inspiration for resolutions of your own? Check out the 70 resolutions of 18th century theologian Jonathan Edwards.
Blessings,
Holly
What are some mistakes you've made in setting goals for spiritual growth? What are some specific goals you have?
by Holly Vicente Robaina
Do you stick to your spiritual goals?
January 28, 2009 | Today's Christian Woman
Have you broken your New Year's resolutions yet?
I'm admittedly cynical about making lists of goals because I've seen so many people try this and fail. Year after year, I see my gym fill to capacity during the first week of January, then empty out before the end of the month. I've noticed the same pattern at my church. There are plenty of people who attend a service or two, and they seem enthusiastic to get closer to God and develop relationships with other Christians. Yet they don't come back.
I used to think people - including me - broke resolutions because we weren't truly committed to our goals. Then I noticed that I've often failed at things I deeply wanted to achieve. For instance, I've long held the goal of spending quality, daily time with God. While my devotional time is sometimes wonderful, warm, and intimate, there are many days when my mind wanders. My prayers are interrupted by thoughts such as, We're out of milk - need to buy some today. . . . And what are we having for dinner? . . . Ugh, do I have any clean underpants to wear to the grocery store? I end up repeatedly apologizing to God for the lack of quality in our time together.
Setting spiritual goals can be tremendously frustrating. I often hear Christian friends express defeat: "How can I be like Jesus when I'm so not like Jesus?" "How am I supposed to love my enemies when I don't even love my best friends consistently?" "Love AND joy, peace AND patience? As if. My best day is one I can get through without having a bad attitude!"
Here are a few mistakes I've made in striving for spiritual growth:
1) Trying to achieve spiritual goals solely as an individual. One definition of "resolution" is an "expression of consensus" - a group decides to uphold a decision or standard. The Christian church has many such resolutions: We resolve to work together and bring the Gospel to the world, to worship God together, and to grow spiritually together as the body of Christ.
Yet many of us instead focus on do-it-yourself personal improvement. Why don't we ask other Christians to support our own spiritual goals? Perhaps we're ashamed of our weaknesses, or perhaps we're convinced that going it alone helps us rely on God. While we do need to spend time alone with God, we equally need the accountability and spiritual gifts of other Christians for spiritual growth.
When I began losing the sight in my left eye a couple years ago, I initially didn't tell anyone at church. I figured God wanted me to learn to trust and rely on him more. My vision got worse, to the point that reading was extremely difficult and I couldn't drive at night. I broke down one Sunday morning and told two friends about my pain. They immediately prayed for healing - something I never would have prayed for myself. When my eyesight did return a few weeks later, I realized God had illustrated how much I need other Christians: I needed encouragement from my friends, and their faith and prayers.
2) Missing the lessons of failure. Earlier this month, German billionaire Adolf Merckle took his life by lying on the tracks in front of an oncoming train. He'd made some financial decisions that resulted in the downfall of the business empire he'd spent his life building. Still, his suicide baffled many because Merckle, an evangelical Christian, wasn't one to be fazed by the loss of money. He was a man of modest means who lived in a flat rather than a mansion, he didn't have bodyguards or even a security camera, and he bicycled to work every day. Rather, The Telegraph reported, Merckle's loved ones "blame his demise on a complex combination of pride, guilt over what he saw as failing his family, and, perhaps most importantly, loss of control."
We've all experienced those devastating lows that come from personal failings. Failure is especially jarring when we're trying to do the right thing. Some years ago, a pastor friend saw one of her ministry projects fail. It's one of her most painful memories, but in retrospect, she's glad that God let her plans crumble. She realized that she'd been focused on attaining her own goals rather than on letting God shape her and her ministry. The loss taught her to put God's will before good intentions.
The apostle Paul recognized that one of his personal struggles was spiritually helpful: He said it kept him from becoming conceited. And while Paul initially asked God to take away this "thorn in the flesh" - he reasoned that the problem hampered his ministry efforts - God's reply was, "'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness'" (2 Corinthians 12:9). Perhaps we need our own thorn to keep us from prideful self-sufficiency.
Another friend recently expressed frustration that she's still grappling with the same issues she's surrendered to God a zillion times. It's tough when God asks us to grow in an area where we've already done so much painful work. But failure is key to spiritual growth: When we fail, we run to God in acknowledgement that we need his strength and mercy.
3) Not striving for the highest moral standard. My small group leader posed the question, "What would the perfect Christian look like?" After arguing extensively that no Christian can be perfect, I finally got his point: We need to prepare for the day when we'll live and rule in God's kingdom.
Too often, we get frustrated that we can't keep God's laws, and so we give up trying. Or, we set minimal goals, patting ourselves on the back when we refrain from cursing out loud, or when we're civil to someone we can't stand. Such minimal goals are inadequate preparation for meeting our Creator.
Or, we attempt to be good because we think God's top priority for us is moral excellence. Here's the shocker: Our No. 1 goal isn't to reach moral perfection - it's to love God (Deuteronomy 6:5, Mark 12:28-33). With this in mind, we should strive for the highest moral standard because our efforts (and failings) teach us that sin is low, ugly, stupid, and futile. In other words, we're learning to hate sin (to hate everything that's in opposition to God), and thus, to love God.
4) Not setting specific spiritual goals. In his article "Radical Discipleship," Doug Newton suggests that the church must become more specific in its resolve for spiritual excellence. He asserts that merely rattling off the fruit of the Spirit doesn't cut it: "Every other world religion and philosophy prizes and advocates most, if not all, of those traits. What New Ager is not hanging a crystal or two to draw more love in and out of his life? What Eastern yoga practitioner is not bending and breathing her way toward inner peace? People as diverse as Dr. Phil and the local imam probably talk as much about the virtues of patience or self-control as Dr. Dobson and the local pastor." Newton continues: "As long as the church is calling people to nothing more than those generic traits, her people will become only about as Christian as the local cashier who's reading the latest Stephen Covey self-improvement best seller."
I'm currently writing up my own long-term spiritual resolutions as I ponder the question, "What would the perfect Christian look like?" Want some inspiration for resolutions of your own? Check out the 70 resolutions of 18th century theologian Jonathan Edwards.
Blessings,
Holly
What are some mistakes you've made in setting goals for spiritual growth? What are some specific goals you have?
Scrooge Syndrome (December 30, 2008)
Scrooge Syndrome
by Holly Vicente Robaina
In rough economic times, are we cutting back on the wrong things?
December 30, 2008 | Today's Christian Woman
There's an old saying: Give 'til it hurts.
In these tumultuous economic times, it apparently hurts too much. The Wall Street Journal reports that Americans are "keeping their wallets closed" when it comes to charitable giving this holiday season. The Vanguard Charitable Endowment Program, one of the largest charities in the U.S., saw a huge drop in giving this October and November: They received nearly 40 percent less than during the same period last year. And The Barna Group notes that "Americans are now passing on their financial pain to churches." A recent Barna poll showed that 20 percent of surveyed households had reduced their church giving, with 22 percent of that group reporting they've stopped giving altogether.
It's understandable that some folks - particularly those who've lost jobs or homes this year - have had to make drastic cuts, including in their charitable giving. But for the majority of us, a moderate loss of money shouldn't mean that we start lagging in charity. We need to cut back on our Starbucks intake, not our tithe.
I'll be the first to admit that I don't give as much as I could, or should. I've been inspired - convicted, really - by a new reality show, Secret Millionaire. On the show, undercover millionaires visit low-income communities. Their mission: to find worthy folks and give them money. They meet extraordinarily generous people who have very little, yet they give generously and joyfully. There's the senior who uses her Social Security check to house and feed homeless moms and their kids. The woman who started a horse ranch in the projects to keep kids off the streets and out of gangs. The former inmate who now takes in other women who've been released from prison. The stories are enough to bring you to your knees, wailing, "God, I haven't done enough. I haven't loved enough."
Most of us can afford to give a lot more than we do: of our money, time, and energy. If you desire to give, but are short on money, here's a list of no-cost and low-cost ways to be charitable. (Many thanks to my friends who sent me this information!)
Got empty pockets? Some no-cost ways to donate:
From me:
Recycle for a cause. My church does this; we donate the money toward reforestation in Ethiopia.
From Christy:
Use http://www.goodsearch.com/, a free search engine, to look for information online; the charity of your choice benefits from every search you make.
From Dawn & Shawn:
Answer trivia questions at http://www.freerice.com/, and you can earn rice for the hungry. (A great site for families with kids!) More info: http://www.freerice.com/faq.html
From Sue:
Sponsored by Xerox, www.LetsSayThanks.com lets you send a free card to a soldier that is currently serving in Iraq.
From Joanna:
Donate old tennis shoes to Nike; the company grinds them up and uses the material to make running tracks for high schools. There are shoe collection bins in Nike retail stores: http://www.nikereuseashoe.com/
Donate old cell phones to soldiers overseas or to a domestic violence shelter for women: http://www.cellphonesforsoldiers.com/
Make a Wish Foundation (http://www.wish.org/help/donate) accepts non-cash donations including building supplies, computers, airline miles, and hotel loyalty points. (Some hotels, such as the Hyatt, will match your hotel loyalty points donation.)
Donate old eyeglasses to an African child through this Goodwill/Lions Club/Lenscrafters program: http://www.charityguide.org/volunteer/fifteen/eyeglasses-donation.htm
From Cheryle:
Donate old phones to Verizon's phone recycling program, which provides survivors of domestic violence with cell phones and airtime: http://aboutus.vzw.com/communityservice/hopeLine.html
From Leslie:
Visit the Breast Cancer Site to give free mammograms. Sponsors pay for the mammograms; their ads are on the website (you don't have to buy or do anything other than click a button, and no personal information is collected). http://www.thebreastcancersite.com/clickToGive/home.faces?siteId=2.
Another site, www.thehungersite.org, does something similar; you click to donate food. (Holly says: "I clicked and got the message, 'You have given the value of 1.1 cups of food to the hungry.' Very cool.")
(If you are in disbelief that clicking your mouse once could actually do some good in the world, check out this information on Snopes, provided by my friend Jennifer: http://www.snopes.com/inboxer/charity/mammogram.asp)
From Joe:
Some employers allow you to contribute to a sick-leave "bank," where you and other employees donate some of your unused sick days/hours. Employees who run out of paid sick leave due to prolonged medical disability can then receive hours from the bank. Joe says, "It's a good thing to do when you're young, healthy, and in a good job but not making a ton of money for donation purposes." Contact your Human Resources office and ask if your company offers this.
From Mike:
Starwood properties (Sheraton, W, etc.) lets you donate hotel points to charities including Special Olympics, American Red Cross, and UNICEF: http://www.starwoodhotels.com/preferredguest/account/starpoints/partners/index.html.
From Jennifer:
There are many ways to donate air miles: http://www.google.com/search?q=donate+your+air+miles&ie=utf-8&oe=utf-8&aq=t&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a
In the San Francisco Bay Area, you can donate "tiny tickets" (the leftover part of your transit cards): http://ebcf.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=67&Itemid=154.
Got a little cash and want to see it go a long way? Some low-cost ways to donate:
From Peter:
Research charities at http://www.charitynavigator.org/. You can view information on an organization's revenue and expenses.
From Leslie:
Before you buy an item from your favorite online store, check to see if the store participates with "Clicks for Homeschooling" by visiting http://www.hslda.org/Clicks4HS/about.asp. A portion of your purchase will be donated to the Home School Foundation, which provides assistance to needy home-school families.
From Debra:
Donate a cow - or part of one. Your contribution to Heifer International (http://www.heifer.org/) is used to buy animals for people to set up their own farms so they can have food and make money to live.
From Amy:
Sell stuff on eBay with a little note saying that you're donating the money to a particular charity.
Get friends to donate products from their companies, then hold a raffle for a charity.
Finally, my friend Harlen writes, "There's always the old standby of donating your time. If you've been laid off, you might as well work with a charity between job interviews. Volunteer work looks good to prospective employers, and it makes you feel good, too."
So go out and do some good. You don't even have to dig deep into your pockets to do it.
Warm wishes for a blessed Christmas and New Year,
Holly
What's your favorite charity or charitable activity?
by Holly Vicente Robaina
In rough economic times, are we cutting back on the wrong things?
December 30, 2008 | Today's Christian Woman
There's an old saying: Give 'til it hurts.
In these tumultuous economic times, it apparently hurts too much. The Wall Street Journal reports that Americans are "keeping their wallets closed" when it comes to charitable giving this holiday season. The Vanguard Charitable Endowment Program, one of the largest charities in the U.S., saw a huge drop in giving this October and November: They received nearly 40 percent less than during the same period last year. And The Barna Group notes that "Americans are now passing on their financial pain to churches." A recent Barna poll showed that 20 percent of surveyed households had reduced their church giving, with 22 percent of that group reporting they've stopped giving altogether.
It's understandable that some folks - particularly those who've lost jobs or homes this year - have had to make drastic cuts, including in their charitable giving. But for the majority of us, a moderate loss of money shouldn't mean that we start lagging in charity. We need to cut back on our Starbucks intake, not our tithe.
I'll be the first to admit that I don't give as much as I could, or should. I've been inspired - convicted, really - by a new reality show, Secret Millionaire. On the show, undercover millionaires visit low-income communities. Their mission: to find worthy folks and give them money. They meet extraordinarily generous people who have very little, yet they give generously and joyfully. There's the senior who uses her Social Security check to house and feed homeless moms and their kids. The woman who started a horse ranch in the projects to keep kids off the streets and out of gangs. The former inmate who now takes in other women who've been released from prison. The stories are enough to bring you to your knees, wailing, "God, I haven't done enough. I haven't loved enough."
Most of us can afford to give a lot more than we do: of our money, time, and energy. If you desire to give, but are short on money, here's a list of no-cost and low-cost ways to be charitable. (Many thanks to my friends who sent me this information!)
Got empty pockets? Some no-cost ways to donate:
From me:
Recycle for a cause. My church does this; we donate the money toward reforestation in Ethiopia.
From Christy:
Use http://www.goodsearch.com/, a free search engine, to look for information online; the charity of your choice benefits from every search you make.
From Dawn & Shawn:
Answer trivia questions at http://www.freerice.com/, and you can earn rice for the hungry. (A great site for families with kids!) More info: http://www.freerice.com/faq.html
From Sue:
Sponsored by Xerox, www.LetsSayThanks.com lets you send a free card to a soldier that is currently serving in Iraq.
From Joanna:
Donate old tennis shoes to Nike; the company grinds them up and uses the material to make running tracks for high schools. There are shoe collection bins in Nike retail stores: http://www.nikereuseashoe.com/
Donate old cell phones to soldiers overseas or to a domestic violence shelter for women: http://www.cellphonesforsoldiers.com/
Make a Wish Foundation (http://www.wish.org/help/donate) accepts non-cash donations including building supplies, computers, airline miles, and hotel loyalty points. (Some hotels, such as the Hyatt, will match your hotel loyalty points donation.)
Donate old eyeglasses to an African child through this Goodwill/Lions Club/Lenscrafters program: http://www.charityguide.org/volunteer/fifteen/eyeglasses-donation.htm
From Cheryle:
Donate old phones to Verizon's phone recycling program, which provides survivors of domestic violence with cell phones and airtime: http://aboutus.vzw.com/communityservice/hopeLine.html
From Leslie:
Visit the Breast Cancer Site to give free mammograms. Sponsors pay for the mammograms; their ads are on the website (you don't have to buy or do anything other than click a button, and no personal information is collected). http://www.thebreastcancersite.com/clickToGive/home.faces?siteId=2.
Another site, www.thehungersite.org, does something similar; you click to donate food. (Holly says: "I clicked and got the message, 'You have given the value of 1.1 cups of food to the hungry.' Very cool.")
(If you are in disbelief that clicking your mouse once could actually do some good in the world, check out this information on Snopes, provided by my friend Jennifer: http://www.snopes.com/inboxer/charity/mammogram.asp)
From Joe:
Some employers allow you to contribute to a sick-leave "bank," where you and other employees donate some of your unused sick days/hours. Employees who run out of paid sick leave due to prolonged medical disability can then receive hours from the bank. Joe says, "It's a good thing to do when you're young, healthy, and in a good job but not making a ton of money for donation purposes." Contact your Human Resources office and ask if your company offers this.
From Mike:
Starwood properties (Sheraton, W, etc.) lets you donate hotel points to charities including Special Olympics, American Red Cross, and UNICEF: http://www.starwoodhotels.com/preferredguest/account/starpoints/partners/index.html.
From Jennifer:
There are many ways to donate air miles: http://www.google.com/search?q=donate+your+air+miles&ie=utf-8&oe=utf-8&aq=t&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a
In the San Francisco Bay Area, you can donate "tiny tickets" (the leftover part of your transit cards): http://ebcf.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=67&Itemid=154.
Got a little cash and want to see it go a long way? Some low-cost ways to donate:
From Peter:
Research charities at http://www.charitynavigator.org/. You can view information on an organization's revenue and expenses.
From Leslie:
Before you buy an item from your favorite online store, check to see if the store participates with "Clicks for Homeschooling" by visiting http://www.hslda.org/Clicks4HS/about.asp. A portion of your purchase will be donated to the Home School Foundation, which provides assistance to needy home-school families.
From Debra:
Donate a cow - or part of one. Your contribution to Heifer International (http://www.heifer.org/) is used to buy animals for people to set up their own farms so they can have food and make money to live.
From Amy:
Sell stuff on eBay with a little note saying that you're donating the money to a particular charity.
Get friends to donate products from their companies, then hold a raffle for a charity.
Finally, my friend Harlen writes, "There's always the old standby of donating your time. If you've been laid off, you might as well work with a charity between job interviews. Volunteer work looks good to prospective employers, and it makes you feel good, too."
So go out and do some good. You don't even have to dig deep into your pockets to do it.
Warm wishes for a blessed Christmas and New Year,
Holly
What's your favorite charity or charitable activity?
Taking a Stand for Marriage (November 26, 2008)
Taking a Stand for Marriage
by Holly Vicente Robaina
My vote on Proposition 8 was obvious, yet painfully difficult.
November 26, 2008 | Today's Christian Woman
Some years ago, a friend sent me a Christmas card thanking me for being "natural, accepting, [and] charming." I've lost touch with my friend, but he still holds a special place in my heart. I remember the many personal, transparent conversations we had. I remember his joy for me at my wedding, and his optimism that he and his partner would be able to marry one day, too.
His love for his partner was authentic and deep. He would joke about his partner's Pillsbury-Doughboy shape, then pat his own round belly and note how good cooking and their happiness together was making him fat. My husband and I had the privilege of sampling that good cooking in their home, and I afterward I could understand why my friend's midsection was getting bigger.
I thought about my dear friend - and other gay and lesbian friends - as I voted in favor of California's Proposition 8 earlier this month, which eliminated the right of same-sex couples to marry in California. The measure passed with 52 percent of the vote.
It troubles me to think what my friend might say to me if he knew I'd supported the measure. I'm sure he would be confused and hurt. I'm sure he would ask why I'd want to create an obstacle to his happiness.
But I knew my vote wasn't on the question, "Holly, do you care about your gay friends or not?" Deep down, I hope they know I do. My vote, like everyone's vote, represented what I think is best for America. A country's laws reflect its moral values, and, as a Christian, I have specific thoughts on what those moral values should be. This doesn't mean all of my values are held by every Christian. Rather, it's an acknowledgment that my politics are affected by my understanding of the Bible. As I contemplate political issues, I prayerfully ask God to provide good information and clear thinking.
I often hear folks who aren't Christians comment: "It's wrong for Christians to impose their moral values on others," or "Christians shouldn't try to legislate morality." This used to trouble me; I didn't want people to feel I was trying to force my beliefs on them. Then one of my professors, Dr. Scott Rae, told me, "Every law is the imposition of someone's value." ThisNation.com, an educational resource on American government, further explains:
"When society deems something to be 'wrong,' it has cast a moral judgment. The political judgment that must then be made is whether such a judgment ought to become a matter of law. It is impossible, however, to create laws that have no moral dimension to them. The very act of coming together as a political society to establish rules of cooperation and societal order is based on fundamentally moral choices and preferences. Legislating morality is unavoidable."
So everyone has the right to have their thoughts factored in when it comes to developing our nation's values. I think the most important value Christians bring to the political discussion is: God is the ultimate authority.
In developing my political opinions, I first look to the Bible. We see the model God established for the marriage union in the Genesis account (Genesis 2:18-25), as God creates a suitable partner for Adam. Verse 24 says: "For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh." The "one flesh" refers in part to sex, with "flesh" being an important term to show there's a physical aspect. The culmination of this relationship is procreation: The sexual union of the two results in one new life.
So God gave the first man a female partner, instructed that they should be united only to each other, and designed their union to be so close, they'd be able to create a child together. And the couple would become so inextricably tied together, they'd be like one person. To become like one person, there is surely a deeper spiritual union that goes beyond the physical act of sex.
God further provided guidelines in the Old Testament law to protect what he designed (Leviticus 20, Deuteronomy 22). Premarital sex, adultery, and homosexuality are all outside of God's plan for marriage: "Let marriage be held in honor by all, and let the marriage bed be kept undefiled; for God will judge fornicators and adulterers" (Hebrews 13:4, NRSV). In the Old Testament, death was the penalty for all sex outside of marriage.
We don't know how frequently this punishment was carried out, but it's interesting to consider: If death was the penalty for having any sex outside of marriage today, how many church-goers would be wiped out? (I'd submit that most churches would be completely emptied.) I say this to show that the church is in no position to judge the gay community. The only comparison to be made here is between God's holy model for marriage, and everything else that doesn't meet God's standard.
We all get our values from some authority. I recognize God as my authority, believing that his moral values are the ultimate. I want God's values for my country.
Still, I struggled over whether to vote on Proposition 8. I've long wondered, Why does God permit an attraction between members of the same sex, but sets heterosexual marriage as his standard? I don't have an answer for that question. (If I ever discover one, I'll be sure to share it.) For now, I trust that God's holiness, goodness, and justice are the ultimate best.
Blessings,
Holly
Do you ever struggle over how to combine your faith with your political opinions?
by Holly Vicente Robaina
My vote on Proposition 8 was obvious, yet painfully difficult.
November 26, 2008 | Today's Christian Woman
Some years ago, a friend sent me a Christmas card thanking me for being "natural, accepting, [and] charming." I've lost touch with my friend, but he still holds a special place in my heart. I remember the many personal, transparent conversations we had. I remember his joy for me at my wedding, and his optimism that he and his partner would be able to marry one day, too.
His love for his partner was authentic and deep. He would joke about his partner's Pillsbury-Doughboy shape, then pat his own round belly and note how good cooking and their happiness together was making him fat. My husband and I had the privilege of sampling that good cooking in their home, and I afterward I could understand why my friend's midsection was getting bigger.
I thought about my dear friend - and other gay and lesbian friends - as I voted in favor of California's Proposition 8 earlier this month, which eliminated the right of same-sex couples to marry in California. The measure passed with 52 percent of the vote.
It troubles me to think what my friend might say to me if he knew I'd supported the measure. I'm sure he would be confused and hurt. I'm sure he would ask why I'd want to create an obstacle to his happiness.
But I knew my vote wasn't on the question, "Holly, do you care about your gay friends or not?" Deep down, I hope they know I do. My vote, like everyone's vote, represented what I think is best for America. A country's laws reflect its moral values, and, as a Christian, I have specific thoughts on what those moral values should be. This doesn't mean all of my values are held by every Christian. Rather, it's an acknowledgment that my politics are affected by my understanding of the Bible. As I contemplate political issues, I prayerfully ask God to provide good information and clear thinking.
I often hear folks who aren't Christians comment: "It's wrong for Christians to impose their moral values on others," or "Christians shouldn't try to legislate morality." This used to trouble me; I didn't want people to feel I was trying to force my beliefs on them. Then one of my professors, Dr. Scott Rae, told me, "Every law is the imposition of someone's value." ThisNation.com, an educational resource on American government, further explains:
"When society deems something to be 'wrong,' it has cast a moral judgment. The political judgment that must then be made is whether such a judgment ought to become a matter of law. It is impossible, however, to create laws that have no moral dimension to them. The very act of coming together as a political society to establish rules of cooperation and societal order is based on fundamentally moral choices and preferences. Legislating morality is unavoidable."
So everyone has the right to have their thoughts factored in when it comes to developing our nation's values. I think the most important value Christians bring to the political discussion is: God is the ultimate authority.
In developing my political opinions, I first look to the Bible. We see the model God established for the marriage union in the Genesis account (Genesis 2:18-25), as God creates a suitable partner for Adam. Verse 24 says: "For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh." The "one flesh" refers in part to sex, with "flesh" being an important term to show there's a physical aspect. The culmination of this relationship is procreation: The sexual union of the two results in one new life.
So God gave the first man a female partner, instructed that they should be united only to each other, and designed their union to be so close, they'd be able to create a child together. And the couple would become so inextricably tied together, they'd be like one person. To become like one person, there is surely a deeper spiritual union that goes beyond the physical act of sex.
God further provided guidelines in the Old Testament law to protect what he designed (Leviticus 20, Deuteronomy 22). Premarital sex, adultery, and homosexuality are all outside of God's plan for marriage: "Let marriage be held in honor by all, and let the marriage bed be kept undefiled; for God will judge fornicators and adulterers" (Hebrews 13:4, NRSV). In the Old Testament, death was the penalty for all sex outside of marriage.
We don't know how frequently this punishment was carried out, but it's interesting to consider: If death was the penalty for having any sex outside of marriage today, how many church-goers would be wiped out? (I'd submit that most churches would be completely emptied.) I say this to show that the church is in no position to judge the gay community. The only comparison to be made here is between God's holy model for marriage, and everything else that doesn't meet God's standard.
We all get our values from some authority. I recognize God as my authority, believing that his moral values are the ultimate. I want God's values for my country.
Still, I struggled over whether to vote on Proposition 8. I've long wondered, Why does God permit an attraction between members of the same sex, but sets heterosexual marriage as his standard? I don't have an answer for that question. (If I ever discover one, I'll be sure to share it.) For now, I trust that God's holiness, goodness, and justice are the ultimate best.
Blessings,
Holly
Do you ever struggle over how to combine your faith with your political opinions?
Conversation or Confrontation? (October 22, 2008)
Conversation or Confrontation?
by Holly Robaina
Thoughts about Bill Maher’s new movie, Religulous
October 22, 2008 | Today's Christian Woman
I recently saw Religulous, a film that's billed as the "No. 1 sacrilegious comedy in America." It's supposedly a documentary, in which comedian Bill Maher (of Real Time with Bill Maher and Politically Incorrect) travels the world asking religious practitioners questions about their faith. Though Maher makes fun of every world religion, as well as some minor ones, about two-thirds of the film focuses on Christianity.
At the beginning of the film, Maher says he's on a spiritual journey. But instead of interviewing well-known pastors or Christian academics, Maher poses complicated theological and philosophical questions to truck drivers, a Christian bookstore owner, and an actor who plays Jesus at The Holy Land Experience, an Orlando theme park.
Los Angeles Times movie critic Kenneth Turan said Maher's "reliance on skewering people who are no match for him in glibness, persuasiveness or even intelligence finally leaves a sour taste." Indeed.
Maher makes his view clear on the Religulous website: "There is nothing more ridiculous than the ancient mythological stories that live on as today's religions." Still, I hoped there might be a few moments in the movie when Maher got sincere about seeking. So I focused on how I might answer his questions. This was an exercise in futility: I could barely string together two thoughts before Maher changed the subject.
I soon realized it wouldn't matter if Maher was interviewing the most brilliant Christian debater on the planet. He wasn't interested in contemplating faith - just in mocking religion. Richard Corliss of Time magazine writes, "Maher seems interested less in conversation than in confrontation, so his movie is less essay than inquisition."
This got me thinking: With whom am I sharing my faith? Do they really want to converse, or just argue? I thought about how the Apostle Paul spent varying amounts of time in different cities as he spread the Gospel. One stop was Athens, a city full of philosophers, where people "spent their time doing nothing but talking about and listening to the latest ideas" (Acts 17:21). Some of the Athenians seemed to take Paul seriously: They brought him before the Areopagus, a powerful council, and asked him to speak.
But it doesn't seem many were open to what Paul had to say. We're told that only a few believed (whereas in some other cities, thousands became Christ-followers). Perhaps the people of Athens weren't really listening to Paul. Perhaps they were interested in educating themselves further, but not in contemplating Paul's words. In any case, Paul moved on.
I think there are times when I need to move on. Some years ago, I was contacted by The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, a news parody that airs on Comedy Central. A representative from the show wanted to discuss an article I'd written for Christianity Today. My first thought was, Woo hoo! What a great way to share my faith! But something inside gave me pause.
I decided to ask two trusted Christian friends whether I should return the call to the show. Both responded, "Absolutely not." They told me I'd get ripped to shreds, I'd be dismissed as a religious kook, and the message of faith I wanted to convey wouldn't be heard at all. While I wasn't concerned about being mocked, I realized it didn't make sense to take part in a show that had no interest in letting me talk about Jesus.
My time, effort, and energy are better utilized talking to people who are interested in conversations about faith. I have one friend who's been asking me questions about God for the past five years. I've shared my faith journey with her and listened to her doubts.
My friend often challenges my statements and she asks tough questions, yet I find it easy to talk to her. I know she's listening to me, and I'm listening to her - even when we don't agree. I don't know if she's any closer to believing in God than she was five years ago. But I'm thrilled that we both know each other better, and I feel privileged to participate in her spiritual journey. Every minute I've conversed with her is time well spent.
Honestly, if I tried to share my faith with someone like Bill Maher or Jon Stewart, I'd be doing so out of foolish vanity. I can't match wits with them. Perhaps the body of Christ is meant to share faith as a body. For example, I've referred friends who are struggling with addiction to a Christian addiction counselor. And I've asked a Christian friend who's a scientist to help me devise some "talking points" about science and faith. In conversations with seekers, the only thing better than an honest "I don't know" is being able to add, "... but I have a Christian friend who might be able to answer those questions."
I've added Bill Maher to my prayer list. I'm praying that God will give Maher every opportunity to recognize Him. (Maybe Maher will run into Lee Strobel, Alvin Plantinga, or William Lane Craig!) But if Maher happens to request an interview with me for Religulous 2, I'll have to pass until he's open to real conversations about faith.
Blessings,
Holly
by Holly Robaina
Thoughts about Bill Maher’s new movie, Religulous
October 22, 2008 | Today's Christian Woman
I recently saw Religulous, a film that's billed as the "No. 1 sacrilegious comedy in America." It's supposedly a documentary, in which comedian Bill Maher (of Real Time with Bill Maher and Politically Incorrect) travels the world asking religious practitioners questions about their faith. Though Maher makes fun of every world religion, as well as some minor ones, about two-thirds of the film focuses on Christianity.
At the beginning of the film, Maher says he's on a spiritual journey. But instead of interviewing well-known pastors or Christian academics, Maher poses complicated theological and philosophical questions to truck drivers, a Christian bookstore owner, and an actor who plays Jesus at The Holy Land Experience, an Orlando theme park.
Los Angeles Times movie critic Kenneth Turan said Maher's "reliance on skewering people who are no match for him in glibness, persuasiveness or even intelligence finally leaves a sour taste." Indeed.
Maher makes his view clear on the Religulous website: "There is nothing more ridiculous than the ancient mythological stories that live on as today's religions." Still, I hoped there might be a few moments in the movie when Maher got sincere about seeking. So I focused on how I might answer his questions. This was an exercise in futility: I could barely string together two thoughts before Maher changed the subject.
I soon realized it wouldn't matter if Maher was interviewing the most brilliant Christian debater on the planet. He wasn't interested in contemplating faith - just in mocking religion. Richard Corliss of Time magazine writes, "Maher seems interested less in conversation than in confrontation, so his movie is less essay than inquisition."
This got me thinking: With whom am I sharing my faith? Do they really want to converse, or just argue? I thought about how the Apostle Paul spent varying amounts of time in different cities as he spread the Gospel. One stop was Athens, a city full of philosophers, where people "spent their time doing nothing but talking about and listening to the latest ideas" (Acts 17:21). Some of the Athenians seemed to take Paul seriously: They brought him before the Areopagus, a powerful council, and asked him to speak.
But it doesn't seem many were open to what Paul had to say. We're told that only a few believed (whereas in some other cities, thousands became Christ-followers). Perhaps the people of Athens weren't really listening to Paul. Perhaps they were interested in educating themselves further, but not in contemplating Paul's words. In any case, Paul moved on.
I think there are times when I need to move on. Some years ago, I was contacted by The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, a news parody that airs on Comedy Central. A representative from the show wanted to discuss an article I'd written for Christianity Today. My first thought was, Woo hoo! What a great way to share my faith! But something inside gave me pause.
I decided to ask two trusted Christian friends whether I should return the call to the show. Both responded, "Absolutely not." They told me I'd get ripped to shreds, I'd be dismissed as a religious kook, and the message of faith I wanted to convey wouldn't be heard at all. While I wasn't concerned about being mocked, I realized it didn't make sense to take part in a show that had no interest in letting me talk about Jesus.
My time, effort, and energy are better utilized talking to people who are interested in conversations about faith. I have one friend who's been asking me questions about God for the past five years. I've shared my faith journey with her and listened to her doubts.
My friend often challenges my statements and she asks tough questions, yet I find it easy to talk to her. I know she's listening to me, and I'm listening to her - even when we don't agree. I don't know if she's any closer to believing in God than she was five years ago. But I'm thrilled that we both know each other better, and I feel privileged to participate in her spiritual journey. Every minute I've conversed with her is time well spent.
Honestly, if I tried to share my faith with someone like Bill Maher or Jon Stewart, I'd be doing so out of foolish vanity. I can't match wits with them. Perhaps the body of Christ is meant to share faith as a body. For example, I've referred friends who are struggling with addiction to a Christian addiction counselor. And I've asked a Christian friend who's a scientist to help me devise some "talking points" about science and faith. In conversations with seekers, the only thing better than an honest "I don't know" is being able to add, "... but I have a Christian friend who might be able to answer those questions."
I've added Bill Maher to my prayer list. I'm praying that God will give Maher every opportunity to recognize Him. (Maybe Maher will run into Lee Strobel, Alvin Plantinga, or William Lane Craig!) But if Maher happens to request an interview with me for Religulous 2, I'll have to pass until he's open to real conversations about faith.
Blessings,
Holly
Picking the President (September 24, 2008)
Picking the President
by Holly Vicente Robaina
My opinion on this one isn't worth fighting over.
September 24, 2008 | Today's Christian Woman
There's a major dispute going on among members of my church. You've probably heard people at your church arguing about it, too, as I seem to hear heated discussions everywhere I go: "McCain or Obama?"
My answer to this question has become, "I'm not telling." This is a recent development; it occurred after I received a lengthy e-mail from a friend who's my political opposite. In his e-mail, he questioned the decision-making ability of my presidential pick. My friend's arguments sounded a lot like the ones I'd heard on CNN from his party's pundits.
So I started to fire off a reply to his e-mail, telling him how wrong he is. As I typed out my thoughts, I suddenly realized: My arguments sounded a lot like the ones I'd heard on CNN from my party's pundits.
I deleted the e-mail without sending my reply. My friend has made his decision about his vote. I've decided, too. We've both given the presidential race considerable thought, based on what we think we know about the candidates. So it seems pointless to argue.
Voting's a great privilege, and I'd fight to defend the right to vote. As for who I'm voting for ? well, that's merely an opinion that's not worth fighting over.
A pastor who spoke at my seminary a few months back offered some perspective on the difference between opinions, beliefs, and convictions.
Opinions, he said, are ideas largely based on personal experiences and preferences. For example, it's my opinion that my presidential candidate of choice has the best plan for America. However, it's impossible to know how either candidate would perform if they became president; we can only make an educated guess.
Beliefs are ideas based on verifiable information, such as statistics, historical facts, ethical truisms, or other material that serves as proof for the belief. For example, most Americans believe democracy is right for America, and freedoms such as speech, religion, assembly, and due process are necessary and worth defending.
Convictions are the ideas at our core. Without them, we wouldn't be whole. It's my conviction that there's one God: the triune Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
We should have innumerable opinions and numerous beliefs, but, this pastor said, there are only a handful of ideas that should be elevated to the status of conviction. Even if our beliefs are based on sound information or solid statistics, they shouldn't rank up there with our faith in God.
Unfortunately, we often hold our most unimportant ideas as sacred, investing a lot of emotional energy into our opinions, but not a lot of thought. Consider what happens when anyone utters the words "election" or "president" these days. Ears perk up, people gather 'round, and opinions - including some factually wrong ones - are generously expressed. It's a real tragedy that folks don't always treat their sacred convictions this way. If someone in your workplace lunchroom made a statement that there's no God, would there be an equally passionate discussion?
I've decided I'm not going to waste any more time praising the ardent supporters of my presidential candidate for their wisdom, or telling the ardent supporters of the other candidate that they're wrong. Instead, I'm using the upcoming presidential election as an opportunity to think about the value I give to my ideas. Do I put all my passion into mere opinions? Am I using my God-given brain to think deeply and research my beliefs to make sure they're worth the effort? Will I be ready and willing to stand up - and even die - for my deepest convictions? How much time and energy am I expending on ideas that don't matter - at the expense of the ones that do?
It's my opinion that my presidential pick has a slight edge. (But I've got nothing of substance to back that up.) It's my belief that - while I'll vote because it's a privilege - my vote is numerically insignificant. (The Electoral College decides this contest.)
And it's my conviction that our God is sovereign. He will continue on with his plans for America, regardless of who sits in the commander-in-chief's seat.
Blessings,
Holly
What are the ideas in which you invest most of your time? Are you passionate about your convictions?
by Holly Vicente Robaina
My opinion on this one isn't worth fighting over.
September 24, 2008 | Today's Christian Woman
There's a major dispute going on among members of my church. You've probably heard people at your church arguing about it, too, as I seem to hear heated discussions everywhere I go: "McCain or Obama?"
My answer to this question has become, "I'm not telling." This is a recent development; it occurred after I received a lengthy e-mail from a friend who's my political opposite. In his e-mail, he questioned the decision-making ability of my presidential pick. My friend's arguments sounded a lot like the ones I'd heard on CNN from his party's pundits.
So I started to fire off a reply to his e-mail, telling him how wrong he is. As I typed out my thoughts, I suddenly realized: My arguments sounded a lot like the ones I'd heard on CNN from my party's pundits.
I deleted the e-mail without sending my reply. My friend has made his decision about his vote. I've decided, too. We've both given the presidential race considerable thought, based on what we think we know about the candidates. So it seems pointless to argue.
Voting's a great privilege, and I'd fight to defend the right to vote. As for who I'm voting for ? well, that's merely an opinion that's not worth fighting over.
A pastor who spoke at my seminary a few months back offered some perspective on the difference between opinions, beliefs, and convictions.
Opinions, he said, are ideas largely based on personal experiences and preferences. For example, it's my opinion that my presidential candidate of choice has the best plan for America. However, it's impossible to know how either candidate would perform if they became president; we can only make an educated guess.
Beliefs are ideas based on verifiable information, such as statistics, historical facts, ethical truisms, or other material that serves as proof for the belief. For example, most Americans believe democracy is right for America, and freedoms such as speech, religion, assembly, and due process are necessary and worth defending.
Convictions are the ideas at our core. Without them, we wouldn't be whole. It's my conviction that there's one God: the triune Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
We should have innumerable opinions and numerous beliefs, but, this pastor said, there are only a handful of ideas that should be elevated to the status of conviction. Even if our beliefs are based on sound information or solid statistics, they shouldn't rank up there with our faith in God.
Unfortunately, we often hold our most unimportant ideas as sacred, investing a lot of emotional energy into our opinions, but not a lot of thought. Consider what happens when anyone utters the words "election" or "president" these days. Ears perk up, people gather 'round, and opinions - including some factually wrong ones - are generously expressed. It's a real tragedy that folks don't always treat their sacred convictions this way. If someone in your workplace lunchroom made a statement that there's no God, would there be an equally passionate discussion?
I've decided I'm not going to waste any more time praising the ardent supporters of my presidential candidate for their wisdom, or telling the ardent supporters of the other candidate that they're wrong. Instead, I'm using the upcoming presidential election as an opportunity to think about the value I give to my ideas. Do I put all my passion into mere opinions? Am I using my God-given brain to think deeply and research my beliefs to make sure they're worth the effort? Will I be ready and willing to stand up - and even die - for my deepest convictions? How much time and energy am I expending on ideas that don't matter - at the expense of the ones that do?
It's my opinion that my presidential pick has a slight edge. (But I've got nothing of substance to back that up.) It's my belief that - while I'll vote because it's a privilege - my vote is numerically insignificant. (The Electoral College decides this contest.)
And it's my conviction that our God is sovereign. He will continue on with his plans for America, regardless of who sits in the commander-in-chief's seat.
Blessings,
Holly
What are the ideas in which you invest most of your time? Are you passionate about your convictions?
Praying for Terrorists (August 27, 2008)
Praying for Terrorists
by Holly Vicente Robaina
Do American Christians have a right to be angry for 9/11?
August 27, 2008 | Today's Christian Woman
I'm having a Jonah moment. I recently realized I didn't want to forgive the people who planned and executed the September 11, 2001, attacks on America. I didn't want God to forgive them, either.
This surprised me. In the past, I've been able to forgive most people relatively easily. And it didn't make much sense to me: Like most Americans, the events of 9/11 shook me, but I wasn't personally affected as none of my loved ones were physically hurt. I didn't even realize I was still angry about 9/11 until I came across the website Adopt-a-Terrorist for Prayer (ATFP).
I'd read about ATFP in an article and had intended to find a terrorist to "adopt." The site's spokesman, Dr. Thomas Bruce, says the war on terrorism is primarily spiritual. "If terrorists start converting, then terrorism as a weapon will fail, and the whole world will know something spectacular about the one true God," he says on the site. Praying for terrorists' salvation sounded like a great idea to me.
But when I visited the site and began reading the killers' profiles, I became angry. Why should I pray for these evil people? I thought. They have no remorse. If given the opportunity, they'd kill every American.
One of my pastors once observed that we want God's forgiveness for ourselves, but we want his justice for our enemies. That was true for me as I prayed, "God, please let these terrorists be located and found guilty for their crimes. Punish them for the lives they took. Please help heal the families who've suffered loss by bringing justice. Amen."
That prayer seemed fair in light of the terrorists' actions. But something inside me felt wrong. I shared this with my pastor, and he helped me take a hard look at Ephesians 4:26: "In your anger do not sin." The NASB translation says, "Be angry, and yet do not sin." In this verse, we're told anger itself isn't a sin; the emotion is permissible. But unchecked anger can cause us to sin.
So it isn't wrong for me to feel anger toward terrorists. (For that matter, I can be angry toward rapists, murderers, and child molesters, too.) But I crossed the line into sin when I acted like Jonah: I ran away from the task God was giving me. Jonah's story cautions on how anger can lead to sin. Jonah felt deep anger toward his enemies, the Assyrians, and wanted God to punish rather than forgive them. There was good reason for Jonah's anger: The Assyrians had attacked his people, completely destroyed their homes, and taken the Israelites captive. When God told Jonah to go preach in Nineveh, the capital of Assyria, in his anger he disobeyed God by running away. He didn't want Israel's enemies to have a chance to receive God's mercy. Jonah tells God, "That's why I left. . . . You are a kind and merciful God, and you are very patient. You always show love, and you don't like to punish anyone" (Jonah 4:2, CEV). It was Jonah's disobedience - not his anger - that was the real problem. He ran away and cut off his relationship with God. That's what sin does: It alienates us from God.
I realized that I, too, didn't want my enemies to have any chance at grace. The Holy Spirit had moved me to pray that the terrorists would turn to God, and had led me to the ATFP website. But in my anger, I disobediently said, "No way, God! I won't pray for that; they don't deserve your forgiveness."
It didn't take long for me to feel convicted about my disobedience. The implication was this: If I thought the 9/11 terrorists didn't deserve God's mercy, it meant I wanted them to be sent to hell. To be permanently, eternally separated from God. I shivered at the thought, remembering Jesus' words in Matthew 6:14: "If you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins."
There's a saying, adapted from the writings of the 18th-century poet Alexander Pope, that "forgiveness is divine." Perhaps it isn't humanly possible to forgive a murderer, a rapist, a child molester, or the perpetrators of 9/11 - at least, not without God's help. I can't say I'm ready to pray God will be merciful to terrorists. But I'm willing to let the Holy Spirit continue to transform me inside. If I allow God to change my heart, he'll show me the right balance between justifiable anger and divine mercy.
Blessings,
Holly
Is there someone you feel angry toward? Has your anger caused you to sin?
by Holly Vicente Robaina
Do American Christians have a right to be angry for 9/11?
August 27, 2008 | Today's Christian Woman
I'm having a Jonah moment. I recently realized I didn't want to forgive the people who planned and executed the September 11, 2001, attacks on America. I didn't want God to forgive them, either.
This surprised me. In the past, I've been able to forgive most people relatively easily. And it didn't make much sense to me: Like most Americans, the events of 9/11 shook me, but I wasn't personally affected as none of my loved ones were physically hurt. I didn't even realize I was still angry about 9/11 until I came across the website Adopt-a-Terrorist for Prayer (ATFP).
I'd read about ATFP in an article and had intended to find a terrorist to "adopt." The site's spokesman, Dr. Thomas Bruce, says the war on terrorism is primarily spiritual. "If terrorists start converting, then terrorism as a weapon will fail, and the whole world will know something spectacular about the one true God," he says on the site. Praying for terrorists' salvation sounded like a great idea to me.
But when I visited the site and began reading the killers' profiles, I became angry. Why should I pray for these evil people? I thought. They have no remorse. If given the opportunity, they'd kill every American.
One of my pastors once observed that we want God's forgiveness for ourselves, but we want his justice for our enemies. That was true for me as I prayed, "God, please let these terrorists be located and found guilty for their crimes. Punish them for the lives they took. Please help heal the families who've suffered loss by bringing justice. Amen."
That prayer seemed fair in light of the terrorists' actions. But something inside me felt wrong. I shared this with my pastor, and he helped me take a hard look at Ephesians 4:26: "In your anger do not sin." The NASB translation says, "Be angry, and yet do not sin." In this verse, we're told anger itself isn't a sin; the emotion is permissible. But unchecked anger can cause us to sin.
So it isn't wrong for me to feel anger toward terrorists. (For that matter, I can be angry toward rapists, murderers, and child molesters, too.) But I crossed the line into sin when I acted like Jonah: I ran away from the task God was giving me. Jonah's story cautions on how anger can lead to sin. Jonah felt deep anger toward his enemies, the Assyrians, and wanted God to punish rather than forgive them. There was good reason for Jonah's anger: The Assyrians had attacked his people, completely destroyed their homes, and taken the Israelites captive. When God told Jonah to go preach in Nineveh, the capital of Assyria, in his anger he disobeyed God by running away. He didn't want Israel's enemies to have a chance to receive God's mercy. Jonah tells God, "That's why I left. . . . You are a kind and merciful God, and you are very patient. You always show love, and you don't like to punish anyone" (Jonah 4:2, CEV). It was Jonah's disobedience - not his anger - that was the real problem. He ran away and cut off his relationship with God. That's what sin does: It alienates us from God.
I realized that I, too, didn't want my enemies to have any chance at grace. The Holy Spirit had moved me to pray that the terrorists would turn to God, and had led me to the ATFP website. But in my anger, I disobediently said, "No way, God! I won't pray for that; they don't deserve your forgiveness."
It didn't take long for me to feel convicted about my disobedience. The implication was this: If I thought the 9/11 terrorists didn't deserve God's mercy, it meant I wanted them to be sent to hell. To be permanently, eternally separated from God. I shivered at the thought, remembering Jesus' words in Matthew 6:14: "If you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins."
There's a saying, adapted from the writings of the 18th-century poet Alexander Pope, that "forgiveness is divine." Perhaps it isn't humanly possible to forgive a murderer, a rapist, a child molester, or the perpetrators of 9/11 - at least, not without God's help. I can't say I'm ready to pray God will be merciful to terrorists. But I'm willing to let the Holy Spirit continue to transform me inside. If I allow God to change my heart, he'll show me the right balance between justifiable anger and divine mercy.
Blessings,
Holly
Is there someone you feel angry toward? Has your anger caused you to sin?
Secondhand Witnessing (July 24, 2008)
Secondhand Witnessing
by Holly Vicente Robaina
We can’t expect T-shirts, jewelry, and bumper stickers to do all the work.
July 24, 2008 | Today's Christian Woman
South Carolina is facing a lawsuit over the proposed production of specialty Christian license plates with the imprint, "I Believe." While opponents are asking whether or not this law constitutes state endorsement of religion, I have another important question: Why do people want these license plates, anyway?
I've often wondered why some Christians wear "Jesus" T-shirts and cross necklaces. I'm not sure what people hope to convey with bumper stickers reading, "In case of rapture, this car will be unmanned."
I suspect many believers think their T-shirts and the like will attract non-believers to Jesus. I've heard Christians refer to their inspirational paraphernalia as "conversation starters" for the purpose of evangelism. But do these things actually serve as icebreakers for real conversation? Or do they just make us feel we've witnessed, without ever saying a word?
This "secondhand evangelism" doesn't seem very effective. A couple years ago, my husband and I were enjoying lunch at a cafรฉ when another couple plunked down at the table next to us. The man began speaking to his female companion at a level audible to every diner in the quiet cafรฉ:
Him (almost shouting): WHAT A BEAUTIFUL DAY THE GOOD LORD HAS GIVEN US!
Her (nearly whispering): Yes, it's beautiful today.
Him: WE CERTAINLY ARE BLESSED! YES, OUR GOD IS GOOD!
Her: Uh … yup.
Each time the man would make a comment about his faith, he'd give us a sideways glance to estimate our reaction. And each time, his companion also would sneak a peek, her eyes full of apologies to us. Before they'd received their beverages, we knew which church the man attended, how long he'd been a Christian, and what he prayed for every day. All without his speaking one direct word to us. Their food arrived, and, suddenly, the man broke out like a preacher on Easter Sunday: "OH, WHAT WOULD I DO WITHOUT MY SAVIOR? MY LIFE WOULD BE IN UTTER SHAMBLES, YES, IT WOULD. GLORY TO GOD FOR THE DIFFERENCE HE'S MADE IN MY LIFE! THERE'S POWER IN THE BLOOD. I CAN'T IMAGINE HOW ANYONE CAN LIVE ONE DAY WITHOUT CHRIST!"
I then noticed other nearby diners beginning to roll their eyes. My attention shifted to my husband, who isn't a Christian. His hands were clenched around his sandwich, and his green eyes had narrowed into black death rays. My next words were, "Check, please."
On the way home, my husband told me the loud man had tremendously annoyed him. I apologized, explaining that some Christians consider this approach a good way to share their beliefs. My husband had a direct, simple response: "Acting that way, did he actually think that I'd be interested in what he said? That I'd want to be like him?"
I've often wondered if the man in the cafรฉ has ever had success with secondhand witnessing. And I wonder what he hopes to accomplish. Does he blare out his faith so he doesn't have to engage in a real conversation? Or does he truly believe someone might approach him and want to talk about Jesus? If so, his technique isn't working.
T-shirts and other Christian paraphernalia may have a similar effect: repelling rather than inviting. We've all probably seen the "Darwin" version of the Christian ichthus (the fish symbol), or the bumper sticker reading, "In case of rapture, can I have your car?" The existence of antisymbols and slogans proves many people find Christian paraphernalia offensive. Certainly, we're not wrong to represent faith through our possessions. But we too often let symbols serve as the sole representation of our faith. When our next-door neighbors think about us, they should see us as the ones who say "Hello" every day. The ones who bring a plate of cookies at Christmas. The ones who volunteer to baby-sit or pick up their mail when they're on vacation. We shouldn't simply be the adjacent house's inhabitants who have a fish sticker on our minivan.
Our desire to display Christian paraphernalia may come from a good place. We want people to see what God's done in our lives. We want others to experience the difference Jesus can make in theirs. But we need to do more than just wear our faith on our sleeves, around our necks, or on our bumpers. We need to make ourselves available for real conversations, and pray God uses our lives and words to speak to others.
Blessings,
Holly
Think of someone you'd like to tell about your faith. How personally do you know her? How much time do you spend with him?
by Holly Vicente Robaina
We can’t expect T-shirts, jewelry, and bumper stickers to do all the work.
July 24, 2008 | Today's Christian Woman
South Carolina is facing a lawsuit over the proposed production of specialty Christian license plates with the imprint, "I Believe." While opponents are asking whether or not this law constitutes state endorsement of religion, I have another important question: Why do people want these license plates, anyway?
I've often wondered why some Christians wear "Jesus" T-shirts and cross necklaces. I'm not sure what people hope to convey with bumper stickers reading, "In case of rapture, this car will be unmanned."
I suspect many believers think their T-shirts and the like will attract non-believers to Jesus. I've heard Christians refer to their inspirational paraphernalia as "conversation starters" for the purpose of evangelism. But do these things actually serve as icebreakers for real conversation? Or do they just make us feel we've witnessed, without ever saying a word?
This "secondhand evangelism" doesn't seem very effective. A couple years ago, my husband and I were enjoying lunch at a cafรฉ when another couple plunked down at the table next to us. The man began speaking to his female companion at a level audible to every diner in the quiet cafรฉ:
Him (almost shouting): WHAT A BEAUTIFUL DAY THE GOOD LORD HAS GIVEN US!
Her (nearly whispering): Yes, it's beautiful today.
Him: WE CERTAINLY ARE BLESSED! YES, OUR GOD IS GOOD!
Her: Uh … yup.
Each time the man would make a comment about his faith, he'd give us a sideways glance to estimate our reaction. And each time, his companion also would sneak a peek, her eyes full of apologies to us. Before they'd received their beverages, we knew which church the man attended, how long he'd been a Christian, and what he prayed for every day. All without his speaking one direct word to us. Their food arrived, and, suddenly, the man broke out like a preacher on Easter Sunday: "OH, WHAT WOULD I DO WITHOUT MY SAVIOR? MY LIFE WOULD BE IN UTTER SHAMBLES, YES, IT WOULD. GLORY TO GOD FOR THE DIFFERENCE HE'S MADE IN MY LIFE! THERE'S POWER IN THE BLOOD. I CAN'T IMAGINE HOW ANYONE CAN LIVE ONE DAY WITHOUT CHRIST!"
I then noticed other nearby diners beginning to roll their eyes. My attention shifted to my husband, who isn't a Christian. His hands were clenched around his sandwich, and his green eyes had narrowed into black death rays. My next words were, "Check, please."
On the way home, my husband told me the loud man had tremendously annoyed him. I apologized, explaining that some Christians consider this approach a good way to share their beliefs. My husband had a direct, simple response: "Acting that way, did he actually think that I'd be interested in what he said? That I'd want to be like him?"
I've often wondered if the man in the cafรฉ has ever had success with secondhand witnessing. And I wonder what he hopes to accomplish. Does he blare out his faith so he doesn't have to engage in a real conversation? Or does he truly believe someone might approach him and want to talk about Jesus? If so, his technique isn't working.
T-shirts and other Christian paraphernalia may have a similar effect: repelling rather than inviting. We've all probably seen the "Darwin" version of the Christian ichthus (the fish symbol), or the bumper sticker reading, "In case of rapture, can I have your car?" The existence of antisymbols and slogans proves many people find Christian paraphernalia offensive. Certainly, we're not wrong to represent faith through our possessions. But we too often let symbols serve as the sole representation of our faith. When our next-door neighbors think about us, they should see us as the ones who say "Hello" every day. The ones who bring a plate of cookies at Christmas. The ones who volunteer to baby-sit or pick up their mail when they're on vacation. We shouldn't simply be the adjacent house's inhabitants who have a fish sticker on our minivan.
Our desire to display Christian paraphernalia may come from a good place. We want people to see what God's done in our lives. We want others to experience the difference Jesus can make in theirs. But we need to do more than just wear our faith on our sleeves, around our necks, or on our bumpers. We need to make ourselves available for real conversations, and pray God uses our lives and words to speak to others.
Blessings,
Holly
Think of someone you'd like to tell about your faith. How personally do you know her? How much time do you spend with him?
Redefining Marriage (June 26, 2008)
Redefining Marriage
by Holly Vicente Robaina
“For better or worse” is taking a turn for the worse.
June 26, 2008 | Today's Christian Woman
Same-sex couples lined up to get marriage licenses in California last week, after my state became the second in the U.S. to allow gay marriage. Gay-rights activists, fighting for nationwide recognition of same-sex unions, want the same rights and privileges as married heterosexual couples'.
Previously, several states, including California, recognized same-sex civil unions to provide many of marriage's legal benefits, including property, parental, and medical rights. But more than marital rights, gay-rights activists want society to see them as legitimate couples. "Civil unions are unfamiliar; people don't understand them or know how to treat them … . Marriage is the ultimate expression of love and commitment; people understand and respect it," reads a publication from the Gay & Lesbian Advocates & Defenders (GLAD) website. As Brad Sears, executive director of the Williams Project on Sexual Orientation Law at UCLA, explained in a PBS interview, civil unions "do not provide gay couples with the social recognition and support that the institution of marriage provides." The word marriage, gay-rights activists believe, is power.
Those activists may be in for major disappointment. Marriage no longer receives recognition as an esteemed, unbreakable bond. In the past, society viewed a couple as one person. A husband's and wife's signatures were synonymous, and either spouse could make decisions for both. These days, I can't request a replacement ATM card for my husband, and he can't change our joint accounts without my permission. (With one bank rep, I argued, "If we'd wanted our accounts limited to individual access, we'd have gotten individual accounts!") Spouses can also conceal medical information from each other; most states don't even require spousal consent for abortion or sterilization. Clearly, individual rights supersede a couple's commitment.
And why should the "institution" of marriage gain recognition when it gets entered and broken on a whim? Most researchers believe between 40 and 50 percent of all marriages eventually end in divorce. And, according to the American Academy of Matrimonial Lawyers, the most common reasons given are poor communication, financial problems, insufficient commitment, dramatic priority changes, and infidelity. In other words, most people simply change their minds.
Society has largely accepted marriage as temporary. In my undergraduate college's online alumni directory, users can click a box that says, "Please remove spouse/partner from my record." Just that simply, the relationship is erased. This approach sounds frighteningly like real life. The celebrity marriage of Carmen Electra and Dennis Rodman lasted five months, Lisa Marie Presley and Nicolas Cage's union ended in three and a half months, and Britney Spears's "commitment" endured two days. But Christians can't cast stones. According to The Barna Group's most recent divorce poll, the divorce rate among born-again Christians (32 percent) was the same as the average rate for all study participants (33 percent).
Divorce's prevalence is a crucial issue for the gay community. Gay-rights activists see divorce as an important benefit available to married couples, and want it because of the difficulty in dissolving gay unions. For example, Rhode Island courts ruled the state can't issue divorce decrees on same-sex marriages because Rhode Island recognizes marriage—and thus divorce—only between a man and a woman. Meanwhile, however, Oregon created provisions allowing easier dissolution of gay domestic partnerships. The ability to divorce, gay-rights activists say, protects the rights of individuals involved.
The United States' emphasis on individual rights may come at a great cost to social morality. In a PBS interview about the fight over same-sex unions, Boston College Law School professor Thomas Kohler said, "Perhaps the best thing to do is legally to disestablish marriage and return it to the realm of civil society. The law would be entirely neutral to the institution, neither privileging it nor granting those within it any special benefits or status. As a wholly private relationship, parties would be free to contract whatever sort of relationship they wish, according to whatever rubric they desire. The law would recognize only individuals."
Kohler's best idea would likely mean legitimacy for polygamy, incest, statutory rape, and maybe even bestiality. This anything-goes attitude is already apparent on TV, with new shows such as Swingtown celebrating open relationships, and popular shows such as Grey's Anatomy, Ugly Betty, and Desperate Housewives glorifying premarital, extramarital, and homosexual relationships. Anyone who thinks my prediction couldn't really happen in America just needs to consider how Canada, after legalizing gay marriage three years ago, is debating whether to recognize polygamous unions, too. Extending rights through civil unions (where people can share their property with whomever they want) may quickly lead to embracing moral relativism (where people can marry their dogs).
Still, the gay community is blameless for the current state of marriage. Heterosexuals—including us evangelical Christians—are solely responsible for damaging God's holy union. We must admit our guilt, and our selfishness at the root of divorce and infidelity. If we Christians really want to restore God's plan for marriage, we need to channel some of the energy that's gone into fighting same-sex marriages into working on our own marriages.
Blessings,
Holly
by Holly Vicente Robaina
“For better or worse” is taking a turn for the worse.
June 26, 2008 | Today's Christian Woman
Same-sex couples lined up to get marriage licenses in California last week, after my state became the second in the U.S. to allow gay marriage. Gay-rights activists, fighting for nationwide recognition of same-sex unions, want the same rights and privileges as married heterosexual couples'.
Previously, several states, including California, recognized same-sex civil unions to provide many of marriage's legal benefits, including property, parental, and medical rights. But more than marital rights, gay-rights activists want society to see them as legitimate couples. "Civil unions are unfamiliar; people don't understand them or know how to treat them … . Marriage is the ultimate expression of love and commitment; people understand and respect it," reads a publication from the Gay & Lesbian Advocates & Defenders (GLAD) website. As Brad Sears, executive director of the Williams Project on Sexual Orientation Law at UCLA, explained in a PBS interview, civil unions "do not provide gay couples with the social recognition and support that the institution of marriage provides." The word marriage, gay-rights activists believe, is power.
Those activists may be in for major disappointment. Marriage no longer receives recognition as an esteemed, unbreakable bond. In the past, society viewed a couple as one person. A husband's and wife's signatures were synonymous, and either spouse could make decisions for both. These days, I can't request a replacement ATM card for my husband, and he can't change our joint accounts without my permission. (With one bank rep, I argued, "If we'd wanted our accounts limited to individual access, we'd have gotten individual accounts!") Spouses can also conceal medical information from each other; most states don't even require spousal consent for abortion or sterilization. Clearly, individual rights supersede a couple's commitment.
And why should the "institution" of marriage gain recognition when it gets entered and broken on a whim? Most researchers believe between 40 and 50 percent of all marriages eventually end in divorce. And, according to the American Academy of Matrimonial Lawyers, the most common reasons given are poor communication, financial problems, insufficient commitment, dramatic priority changes, and infidelity. In other words, most people simply change their minds.
Society has largely accepted marriage as temporary. In my undergraduate college's online alumni directory, users can click a box that says, "Please remove spouse/partner from my record." Just that simply, the relationship is erased. This approach sounds frighteningly like real life. The celebrity marriage of Carmen Electra and Dennis Rodman lasted five months, Lisa Marie Presley and Nicolas Cage's union ended in three and a half months, and Britney Spears's "commitment" endured two days. But Christians can't cast stones. According to The Barna Group's most recent divorce poll, the divorce rate among born-again Christians (32 percent) was the same as the average rate for all study participants (33 percent).
Divorce's prevalence is a crucial issue for the gay community. Gay-rights activists see divorce as an important benefit available to married couples, and want it because of the difficulty in dissolving gay unions. For example, Rhode Island courts ruled the state can't issue divorce decrees on same-sex marriages because Rhode Island recognizes marriage—and thus divorce—only between a man and a woman. Meanwhile, however, Oregon created provisions allowing easier dissolution of gay domestic partnerships. The ability to divorce, gay-rights activists say, protects the rights of individuals involved.
The United States' emphasis on individual rights may come at a great cost to social morality. In a PBS interview about the fight over same-sex unions, Boston College Law School professor Thomas Kohler said, "Perhaps the best thing to do is legally to disestablish marriage and return it to the realm of civil society. The law would be entirely neutral to the institution, neither privileging it nor granting those within it any special benefits or status. As a wholly private relationship, parties would be free to contract whatever sort of relationship they wish, according to whatever rubric they desire. The law would recognize only individuals."
Kohler's best idea would likely mean legitimacy for polygamy, incest, statutory rape, and maybe even bestiality. This anything-goes attitude is already apparent on TV, with new shows such as Swingtown celebrating open relationships, and popular shows such as Grey's Anatomy, Ugly Betty, and Desperate Housewives glorifying premarital, extramarital, and homosexual relationships. Anyone who thinks my prediction couldn't really happen in America just needs to consider how Canada, after legalizing gay marriage three years ago, is debating whether to recognize polygamous unions, too. Extending rights through civil unions (where people can share their property with whomever they want) may quickly lead to embracing moral relativism (where people can marry their dogs).
Still, the gay community is blameless for the current state of marriage. Heterosexuals—including us evangelical Christians—are solely responsible for damaging God's holy union. We must admit our guilt, and our selfishness at the root of divorce and infidelity. If we Christians really want to restore God's plan for marriage, we need to channel some of the energy that's gone into fighting same-sex marriages into working on our own marriages.
Blessings,
Holly
Questioning God (May 28, 2008)
Questioning God
by Holly Vicente Robaina
Is it OK to wonder why he allows suffering?
May 28, 2008 | Today's Christian Woman
Maria Sue Chapman, the five-year-old daughter of veteran Christian singer Steven Curtis Chapman and his wife, Mary Beth, was accidentally struck and killed by a car last week. As I read the news of Maria's death, I asked God my most oft-repeated question: Why?
On learning the details, I shifted to a more accusatory question: How could you allow this, God? Some of the Chapman children witnessed the accident in the family's driveway. The driver who accidentally hit Maria was her 17-year-old brother. And their mother, Mary Beth, has long struggled with depression. From my perspective, the loss was too much for the Chapman family. From my perspective, God should have stopped the car.
Throughout my youth, I thought questioning life events—including suffering—was wrong because, some Christians told me, God has a purpose and plan for everything. A Christian naturally responds with absolute faith, they said, because "in all things God works for the good of those who love him" (Romans 8:28). Some people even cited the story of Job and told me, "Job never questioned God." So I feigned faith. I did my best to express the trust and peace I thought all Christians possessed.
Yet when, as an adult, I read the book of Job, I saw he indeed questioned God. Early in his suffering, Job wishes he'd never been born. This desire is surely a question about God's will and plan, since God gave Job life. Job becomes increasingly accusatory: "Why does God let me live when life is miserable and so bitter?" (Job 3:20, CEV); "God has made my days drag on and my nights miserable" (7:3). Job even asks questions similar to mine: "Why is life so hard? Why do we suffer?" (7:1).
Two years ago, my friend Rosie asked those very questions when she lost her 39-year-old husband, Gordon, to cancer. Because Rosie had prayed and believed God would restore her husband's health, she was spiritually devastated at Gordon's death.
I was, too, because I'd believed God would offer some meaning for Gordon's horrific physical suffering. At the least, I'd thought God would give family members and friends total peace, assuring them Gordon was in heaven. We had much peace, but we also had much pain—and many questions: Why did God allow this cancer? Why did he take Gordon away from his kids, a toddler and a teenager?
The Bible outlines several reasons for suffering: It can develop character and spiritual maturity; it can provide opportunities to share faith; it can correct sin; it can prepare for comforting others; and it can bring glory to God. Yet, such knowledge may be meaningless to the sufferer. Knowledge doesn't always soothe. Quoting Romans 8:28 repeatedly hasn't removed my questions. I haven't found any pat answers or fast fixes for the problem of suffering. More often, the only meaningful prayer for me and suffering friends is, "Why, God?"
Too many Christians expect faith to come easily. Effortlessly. I used to think, I'll never understand why suffering exists, so I just need to have faith—as if I were born with deep, mature faith! But perfect faith isn't innate, nor does it come with salvation. Rather, faith has grown gradually in me. It seems to grow when I suffer or share others' suffering, when I'm so overwhelmed that I run to God in prayer.
And in that desperation, my prayers are often anxious, furious, or miserable. I certainly don't approach God with trust and peace. But faith doesn't grow if I try to fake it. Instead, those moments of emotional rawness are the times I'm most receptive to hearing God out.
Perhaps God wanted me to struggle with the concept of suffering while witnessing Gordon's illness, and now while reading about the Chapmans. I need to pray honestly: "God, I have no idea why you're allowing suffering. Frankly, I don't trust your plan right now, and I don't see any good coming from this pain. But I do recognize you're God: You fully understand the purpose of human suffering. I'm glad I can unload my frustration and confusion on you. Please use these events to teach me and others."
When I pray honestly, I rarely receive my desired answers. God's never shown me suffering's ultimate purpose. He simply allows me to wrestle with the "Why?" question to expose my hurt and mistrust. And I'm starting to realize that to get to real faith, I need to start with real doubt.
Blessings,
Holly
by Holly Vicente Robaina
Is it OK to wonder why he allows suffering?
May 28, 2008 | Today's Christian Woman
Maria Sue Chapman, the five-year-old daughter of veteran Christian singer Steven Curtis Chapman and his wife, Mary Beth, was accidentally struck and killed by a car last week. As I read the news of Maria's death, I asked God my most oft-repeated question: Why?
On learning the details, I shifted to a more accusatory question: How could you allow this, God? Some of the Chapman children witnessed the accident in the family's driveway. The driver who accidentally hit Maria was her 17-year-old brother. And their mother, Mary Beth, has long struggled with depression. From my perspective, the loss was too much for the Chapman family. From my perspective, God should have stopped the car.
Throughout my youth, I thought questioning life events—including suffering—was wrong because, some Christians told me, God has a purpose and plan for everything. A Christian naturally responds with absolute faith, they said, because "in all things God works for the good of those who love him" (Romans 8:28). Some people even cited the story of Job and told me, "Job never questioned God." So I feigned faith. I did my best to express the trust and peace I thought all Christians possessed.
Yet when, as an adult, I read the book of Job, I saw he indeed questioned God. Early in his suffering, Job wishes he'd never been born. This desire is surely a question about God's will and plan, since God gave Job life. Job becomes increasingly accusatory: "Why does God let me live when life is miserable and so bitter?" (Job 3:20, CEV); "God has made my days drag on and my nights miserable" (7:3). Job even asks questions similar to mine: "Why is life so hard? Why do we suffer?" (7:1).
Two years ago, my friend Rosie asked those very questions when she lost her 39-year-old husband, Gordon, to cancer. Because Rosie had prayed and believed God would restore her husband's health, she was spiritually devastated at Gordon's death.
I was, too, because I'd believed God would offer some meaning for Gordon's horrific physical suffering. At the least, I'd thought God would give family members and friends total peace, assuring them Gordon was in heaven. We had much peace, but we also had much pain—and many questions: Why did God allow this cancer? Why did he take Gordon away from his kids, a toddler and a teenager?
The Bible outlines several reasons for suffering: It can develop character and spiritual maturity; it can provide opportunities to share faith; it can correct sin; it can prepare for comforting others; and it can bring glory to God. Yet, such knowledge may be meaningless to the sufferer. Knowledge doesn't always soothe. Quoting Romans 8:28 repeatedly hasn't removed my questions. I haven't found any pat answers or fast fixes for the problem of suffering. More often, the only meaningful prayer for me and suffering friends is, "Why, God?"
Too many Christians expect faith to come easily. Effortlessly. I used to think, I'll never understand why suffering exists, so I just need to have faith—as if I were born with deep, mature faith! But perfect faith isn't innate, nor does it come with salvation. Rather, faith has grown gradually in me. It seems to grow when I suffer or share others' suffering, when I'm so overwhelmed that I run to God in prayer.
And in that desperation, my prayers are often anxious, furious, or miserable. I certainly don't approach God with trust and peace. But faith doesn't grow if I try to fake it. Instead, those moments of emotional rawness are the times I'm most receptive to hearing God out.
Perhaps God wanted me to struggle with the concept of suffering while witnessing Gordon's illness, and now while reading about the Chapmans. I need to pray honestly: "God, I have no idea why you're allowing suffering. Frankly, I don't trust your plan right now, and I don't see any good coming from this pain. But I do recognize you're God: You fully understand the purpose of human suffering. I'm glad I can unload my frustration and confusion on you. Please use these events to teach me and others."
When I pray honestly, I rarely receive my desired answers. God's never shown me suffering's ultimate purpose. He simply allows me to wrestle with the "Why?" question to expose my hurt and mistrust. And I'm starting to realize that to get to real faith, I need to start with real doubt.
Blessings,
Holly
Straight Talk About Money (April 23, 2008)
Straight Talk About Money
by Holly Vicente Robaina
Churches need to be forthcoming about financial matters.
April 23, 2008 | Today's Christian Woman
Money's a topic that makes people squirm. Many couples can't have a candid conversation about purchases or budgets or checking account balances. Perhaps this reticence explains why the median credit card debt in American households is $6,600, according to CardTrak.com.
Similarly, churches—both their leaders and members—seem to have a hard time speaking plainly about finances. I've heard plenty of long, flowery speeches about firstfruits, multiplication, and abundance. And I've listened to a few drawn-out threats that God will forcibly take what's his if I don't freely give it. One church I visited took two offerings; and several friends' churches have passed the plate as many as five times in one service.
Hearing sermons on my need to trust God with my finances is certainly good. But when I feel I'm being beaten over the head with the point, I start to wonder, Is the church having financial trouble? Why doesn't the pastor just say, "We're up to our eyeballs in debt"? Why doesn't somebody stand up and ask what's going on?
But I've never stood up and asked, and I've never witnessed anyone else do so. Obviously, church leaders aren't the only people who tiptoe around the topic of money; many church members never inquire about their church's financial status.
Money talk embarrasses some churchgoers. Friends have told me they don't ask for reimbursement when they buy church supplies because asking is too awkward. One friend told me she reduced her tithe in lieu of submitting her receipts.
But picking up the tab can have some unfortunate consequences. It makes creating an accurate budget difficult for church leaders. If "Sally," a volunteer children's church teacher, buys curriculum books for five years without submitting receipts, and then moves to another state, the church staff will suddenly face a shocking realization: They have no budget line for curriculum books, and no idea how to plan for the ongoing expense. Or worse, the new children's church teacher will assume she's saddled with paying for the books "because that's what Sally did." Such expectations are a surefire way to lose volunteers.
The budget will also suffer if Sally reduces her tithe instead of requesting reimbursement. If she regularly tithes $200 a month, but one month spends $150 on curriculum and reduces her tithe accordingly, the church budget will fall $150 short, since the church treasurer plans it based on regular tithes. That amount might sound small. But what if Marlene, Jenny, and John buy items for the church and also reduce tithes that month?
Obviously, direct discussion about money matters can only help the church. I used to be pleased that my church never spoke about finances. (We haven't passed an offering plate in years; instead, we have collection boxes in the back of the sanctuary.) Naturally, I assumed everything was just dandy. Then, a few months ago, the senior pastor announced we hadn't met our budget goals due to decreased tithes and offerings. I appreciated this straightforward statement, but it caught me off guard. How had we gone from dandy to deficit?
Part of it was due to the U.S. economy's downturn. But a bigger part of the giving shortage was due to our church's no longer even mentioning the offering. Apparently, it had become a little too secretive: One Sunday, a baffled visitor had handed me some cash and said, "I wanted to give this to the church, but I didn't know how."
A simple, weekly offering announcement boosted giving and got our budget back on track. Silence seems to be a real budget buster.
The apostle Paul, in his letter to the Corinthian church, offers a great model of straight talk about money. He tells the Corinthians how he'll use the funds—to support the poor of the Jerusalem church—and instructs: "On the first day of every week, each one of you should set aside a sum of money in keeping with his income, saving it up, so that when I come no collections will have to be made" (1 Corinthians 16:2).
That's the directness I want to hear. Perhaps a few candid comments will keep the offering plate—and the congregants' hearts—overflowing.
Blessings,
Holly
Is discussing money difficult for you? How would you rate your church's financial conversations? Do you have a good understanding of your church's financial situation?
by Holly Vicente Robaina
Churches need to be forthcoming about financial matters.
April 23, 2008 | Today's Christian Woman
Money's a topic that makes people squirm. Many couples can't have a candid conversation about purchases or budgets or checking account balances. Perhaps this reticence explains why the median credit card debt in American households is $6,600, according to CardTrak.com.
Similarly, churches—both their leaders and members—seem to have a hard time speaking plainly about finances. I've heard plenty of long, flowery speeches about firstfruits, multiplication, and abundance. And I've listened to a few drawn-out threats that God will forcibly take what's his if I don't freely give it. One church I visited took two offerings; and several friends' churches have passed the plate as many as five times in one service.
Hearing sermons on my need to trust God with my finances is certainly good. But when I feel I'm being beaten over the head with the point, I start to wonder, Is the church having financial trouble? Why doesn't the pastor just say, "We're up to our eyeballs in debt"? Why doesn't somebody stand up and ask what's going on?
But I've never stood up and asked, and I've never witnessed anyone else do so. Obviously, church leaders aren't the only people who tiptoe around the topic of money; many church members never inquire about their church's financial status.
Money talk embarrasses some churchgoers. Friends have told me they don't ask for reimbursement when they buy church supplies because asking is too awkward. One friend told me she reduced her tithe in lieu of submitting her receipts.
But picking up the tab can have some unfortunate consequences. It makes creating an accurate budget difficult for church leaders. If "Sally," a volunteer children's church teacher, buys curriculum books for five years without submitting receipts, and then moves to another state, the church staff will suddenly face a shocking realization: They have no budget line for curriculum books, and no idea how to plan for the ongoing expense. Or worse, the new children's church teacher will assume she's saddled with paying for the books "because that's what Sally did." Such expectations are a surefire way to lose volunteers.
The budget will also suffer if Sally reduces her tithe instead of requesting reimbursement. If she regularly tithes $200 a month, but one month spends $150 on curriculum and reduces her tithe accordingly, the church budget will fall $150 short, since the church treasurer plans it based on regular tithes. That amount might sound small. But what if Marlene, Jenny, and John buy items for the church and also reduce tithes that month?
Obviously, direct discussion about money matters can only help the church. I used to be pleased that my church never spoke about finances. (We haven't passed an offering plate in years; instead, we have collection boxes in the back of the sanctuary.) Naturally, I assumed everything was just dandy. Then, a few months ago, the senior pastor announced we hadn't met our budget goals due to decreased tithes and offerings. I appreciated this straightforward statement, but it caught me off guard. How had we gone from dandy to deficit?
Part of it was due to the U.S. economy's downturn. But a bigger part of the giving shortage was due to our church's no longer even mentioning the offering. Apparently, it had become a little too secretive: One Sunday, a baffled visitor had handed me some cash and said, "I wanted to give this to the church, but I didn't know how."
A simple, weekly offering announcement boosted giving and got our budget back on track. Silence seems to be a real budget buster.
The apostle Paul, in his letter to the Corinthian church, offers a great model of straight talk about money. He tells the Corinthians how he'll use the funds—to support the poor of the Jerusalem church—and instructs: "On the first day of every week, each one of you should set aside a sum of money in keeping with his income, saving it up, so that when I come no collections will have to be made" (1 Corinthians 16:2).
That's the directness I want to hear. Perhaps a few candid comments will keep the offering plate—and the congregants' hearts—overflowing.
Blessings,
Holly
Is discussing money difficult for you? How would you rate your church's financial conversations? Do you have a good understanding of your church's financial situation?
A Partnership Made in Heaven? (March 26, 2008)
A Partnership Made in Heaven?
by Holly Vicente Robaina
Should churches team up with secular groups for a cause they both value?
March 26, 2008 | Today's Christian Woman
If Tree Top, the apple juice company, offered your church a donation for outreach ministries, would you take it? What if Coca-Cola gave a contribution, no strings attached, to your building fund? Or if Budweiser sent a sizable amount for your missions project?
Some of you will consider those questions carefully. Others of you will dismiss them altogether—after all, they pose hypothetical situations that probably won't happen to you.
Back in my elementary school days, teachers largely discouraged hypothetical questions (apparently, considering what would happen if the sun were to blow up wasn't helpful). But these days, I use hypothetical questions to help me evaluate how others might view a situation.
Currently, my church is developing a partnership called SuDance to raise money for an orphanage in war-torn Sudan. While most current aid to Sudan focuses on relief (food and medical supplies), my church wants to build infrastructure there. To help with these efforts, two DJs who are Christians approached my pastor and proposed gathering their buddies—some of the world's most sought-after DJs—to hold fund-raising dance events across the country. The volunteer DJs potentially could raise $100,000—ten times the amount my church collected for Sudan last year. Additionally, at the events the DJs would display photos of Sudanese orphans and ask dance-goers to sponsor individual children.
Here's the rub: These events would be secular gatherings held in venues serving alcohol.
After prayerfully considering this partnership's implications, my pastor contacted the church's district superintendent and received the denomination's approval. My pastor also posed hypothetical questions, similar to the ones mentioned above, to several of our church's leaders. Some of his hypotheticals seemed benign, while others made me shudder. He used these questions to get the congregation thinking: How will other people receive this partnership?
After we considered the hypotheticals, my pastor turned our attention to a bigger question: Can two groups with different value systems work together for a cause they both value?
My pastor's hypothetical questions gave me perspective on the issue. My first thought was, This partnership will offend some people. My pastor's bigger question reminded me we sometimes need to move beyond this worry, because we'll never achieve universal agreement on any idea. (When a church needs new carpet, the question of tan or gray can nearly bring Christ-followers to fisticuffs!) If my church avoided doing anything potentially divisive, we'd end up immobilized.
Those hypothetical questions also helped my church gauge whether this partnership could damage someone's faith. This consideration is crucial when making decisions either as individual Christians or as churches: "Be careful . . . that the exercise of your freedom does not become a stumbling block to the weak" (1 Corinthians 8:9).
Reflecting on hypothetical questions prepares you to respond to opportunities. When you ask, "If we did this, how would we do it?" you also invite others to contribute to the idea, and you may gain needed skills or know-how. Another pastor at my church was interested in developing community outreach programs, but she didn't know how to get started. As soon as she expressed interest, however, people began offering information and assistance.
So I'll keep asking those hypothetical questions. And I'll keep looking in the mailbox for that check from Coca-Cola . . . or whoever else wants to support my church's efforts.
Blessings,
Holly
by Holly Vicente Robaina
Should churches team up with secular groups for a cause they both value?
March 26, 2008 | Today's Christian Woman
If Tree Top, the apple juice company, offered your church a donation for outreach ministries, would you take it? What if Coca-Cola gave a contribution, no strings attached, to your building fund? Or if Budweiser sent a sizable amount for your missions project?
Some of you will consider those questions carefully. Others of you will dismiss them altogether—after all, they pose hypothetical situations that probably won't happen to you.
Back in my elementary school days, teachers largely discouraged hypothetical questions (apparently, considering what would happen if the sun were to blow up wasn't helpful). But these days, I use hypothetical questions to help me evaluate how others might view a situation.
Currently, my church is developing a partnership called SuDance to raise money for an orphanage in war-torn Sudan. While most current aid to Sudan focuses on relief (food and medical supplies), my church wants to build infrastructure there. To help with these efforts, two DJs who are Christians approached my pastor and proposed gathering their buddies—some of the world's most sought-after DJs—to hold fund-raising dance events across the country. The volunteer DJs potentially could raise $100,000—ten times the amount my church collected for Sudan last year. Additionally, at the events the DJs would display photos of Sudanese orphans and ask dance-goers to sponsor individual children.
Here's the rub: These events would be secular gatherings held in venues serving alcohol.
After prayerfully considering this partnership's implications, my pastor contacted the church's district superintendent and received the denomination's approval. My pastor also posed hypothetical questions, similar to the ones mentioned above, to several of our church's leaders. Some of his hypotheticals seemed benign, while others made me shudder. He used these questions to get the congregation thinking: How will other people receive this partnership?
After we considered the hypotheticals, my pastor turned our attention to a bigger question: Can two groups with different value systems work together for a cause they both value?
My pastor's hypothetical questions gave me perspective on the issue. My first thought was, This partnership will offend some people. My pastor's bigger question reminded me we sometimes need to move beyond this worry, because we'll never achieve universal agreement on any idea. (When a church needs new carpet, the question of tan or gray can nearly bring Christ-followers to fisticuffs!) If my church avoided doing anything potentially divisive, we'd end up immobilized.
Those hypothetical questions also helped my church gauge whether this partnership could damage someone's faith. This consideration is crucial when making decisions either as individual Christians or as churches: "Be careful . . . that the exercise of your freedom does not become a stumbling block to the weak" (1 Corinthians 8:9).
Reflecting on hypothetical questions prepares you to respond to opportunities. When you ask, "If we did this, how would we do it?" you also invite others to contribute to the idea, and you may gain needed skills or know-how. Another pastor at my church was interested in developing community outreach programs, but she didn't know how to get started. As soon as she expressed interest, however, people began offering information and assistance.
So I'll keep asking those hypothetical questions. And I'll keep looking in the mailbox for that check from Coca-Cola . . . or whoever else wants to support my church's efforts.
Blessings,
Holly
Christians Behaving Badly (February 27, 2008)
Christians Behaving Badly
by Holly Vicente Robaina
Who’s giving the church a bad reputation? Perhaps I am.
February 27, 2008 |
I was shocked and dismayed to hear actor Heath Ledger died last month. Shocked, because Ledger was only 28. Dismayed, because I learned of his passing through an MSNBC.com article titled "Church Plans to Protest Ledger's Memorial."
Apparently, Fred Phelps's family is at it again. Fred Phelps is the founder of Westboro Baptist Church (WBC), a group known for vigorously condemning homosexuality through protests, videos, and websites such as GodHatesFags.com. They believe the Iraq war is God's punishment for America's acceptance of homosexuality, and they became infamous for picketing funerals of U.S. soldiers killed in Iraq. Ledger became WBC's target because he played a gay cowboy in the 2005 movie Brokeback Mountain.
The most troubling part of the MSNBC article was that its author identified WBC as simply a "Baptist church." The article didn't mention WBC has no affiliation with or recognition from any known Baptist organizations, and Phelps's "church" primarily consists of his family members. Granted, this article ran in MSNBC's gossip section. Still, how many readers believed Baptists—or, more generally, Christians—sanctioned this bad behavior?
Stories such as this one embarrass me. They make me want to disassociate—Well, I'm not like "those Christians." But I've started to wonder: Do any of my actions make me seem like them? Do others ever perceive me as one of "them"?
"Those Christians" make me uncomfortable because their actions cause me to consider my own. To analyze my actions, I listed bad behaviors often associated with Christians:
Mistake #1: Thinking non-Christians are morally or ethically inferior to believers. I've made this mistake by not recognizing God can teach me through unbelieving friends. Some time ago, I offered to make photocopies of a booklet for one such friend. He replied, "No, I'll buy my own booklet. It's copyrighted, and I want the author to get his royalties." My friend's integrity amazed me, and my own lack of regard for the writer's livelihood shocked me. This conversation was a poignant reminder: Everyone I encounter has a lesson to teach.
Mistake #2: Believing some sins are worse than others. Probably no one would admit to this attitude. But again, I'm guilty of this mistake due to my dismissive attitude toward sinful thoughts. When someone cuts me off in traffic, I feel entitled to anger. Bitterness, jealousy, and envy seem like "no big deal" because I haven't done anything wrong. But then I remember coveting—forbidden in the Ten Commandments—is usually a thought, and many of the other nine can take the form of thoughts, too. Suddenly, those sinful thoughts don't seem so little anymore.
Mistake #3: Thinking Christians earn a "spiritual rank" through works—or lack thereof. Everyone's heard the terms: the ungodly, baby Christians, backsliders, legalists, heretics, those who talk the talk but don't walk the walk, and, of course, the spiritually mature. Since I've used only one or two of those terms in my entire life, surely I'm not guilty of this mistake. Yet, in some ways, I am. I gravitate toward the spiritually mature, believing only they can teach me. And I often overlook God's power evidenced in new Christians. Because they see God's Word with fresh eyes, new Christians astound me with their scriptural insights. Much like the remedy for Mistake #1, I need to remember God teaches me through many people, and he can definitely use a new Christian to reinvigorate my faith.
Mistake #4: Believing I've arrived spiritually. I sometimes zone out for the reading of familiar Scripture during my pastor's sermon, thinking, Yeah, yeah, I've heard this one before. I became aware of this when I asked my church's youth group to recite John 3:16 together. The teens rolled their eyes and practically yawned out the words. I wonder if I sometimes wear that bored facial expression in church. My poor pastor!
I'd previously pretty much dismissed a lot of my own unfortunate behavior. I wonder how many people have noticed my bad attitudes, bad facial expressions, and maybe even bad actions, and said, "That's how Christians behave? I don't want to be like them." I'm actually grateful to have read about the latest antics of the Phelps family; their bad behavior helped me recognize behavior I need to change. "Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting" (Psalm 139:23–24).
The next time I read a story or hear a conversation about "those Christian jerks," I'll try not to smugly nod in agreement. Instead, I'll listen carefully. After all, they just might be talking about me.
Blessings,
Holly
How do you respond when other Christians behave badly? Is recognizing bad behaviors in yourself difficult? What's helped you recognize and change these thoughts or behaviors?
by Holly Vicente Robaina
Who’s giving the church a bad reputation? Perhaps I am.
February 27, 2008 |
I was shocked and dismayed to hear actor Heath Ledger died last month. Shocked, because Ledger was only 28. Dismayed, because I learned of his passing through an MSNBC.com article titled "Church Plans to Protest Ledger's Memorial."
Apparently, Fred Phelps's family is at it again. Fred Phelps is the founder of Westboro Baptist Church (WBC), a group known for vigorously condemning homosexuality through protests, videos, and websites such as GodHatesFags.com. They believe the Iraq war is God's punishment for America's acceptance of homosexuality, and they became infamous for picketing funerals of U.S. soldiers killed in Iraq. Ledger became WBC's target because he played a gay cowboy in the 2005 movie Brokeback Mountain.
The most troubling part of the MSNBC article was that its author identified WBC as simply a "Baptist church." The article didn't mention WBC has no affiliation with or recognition from any known Baptist organizations, and Phelps's "church" primarily consists of his family members. Granted, this article ran in MSNBC's gossip section. Still, how many readers believed Baptists—or, more generally, Christians—sanctioned this bad behavior?
Stories such as this one embarrass me. They make me want to disassociate—Well, I'm not like "those Christians." But I've started to wonder: Do any of my actions make me seem like them? Do others ever perceive me as one of "them"?
"Those Christians" make me uncomfortable because their actions cause me to consider my own. To analyze my actions, I listed bad behaviors often associated with Christians:
Mistake #1: Thinking non-Christians are morally or ethically inferior to believers. I've made this mistake by not recognizing God can teach me through unbelieving friends. Some time ago, I offered to make photocopies of a booklet for one such friend. He replied, "No, I'll buy my own booklet. It's copyrighted, and I want the author to get his royalties." My friend's integrity amazed me, and my own lack of regard for the writer's livelihood shocked me. This conversation was a poignant reminder: Everyone I encounter has a lesson to teach.
Mistake #2: Believing some sins are worse than others. Probably no one would admit to this attitude. But again, I'm guilty of this mistake due to my dismissive attitude toward sinful thoughts. When someone cuts me off in traffic, I feel entitled to anger. Bitterness, jealousy, and envy seem like "no big deal" because I haven't done anything wrong. But then I remember coveting—forbidden in the Ten Commandments—is usually a thought, and many of the other nine can take the form of thoughts, too. Suddenly, those sinful thoughts don't seem so little anymore.
Mistake #3: Thinking Christians earn a "spiritual rank" through works—or lack thereof. Everyone's heard the terms: the ungodly, baby Christians, backsliders, legalists, heretics, those who talk the talk but don't walk the walk, and, of course, the spiritually mature. Since I've used only one or two of those terms in my entire life, surely I'm not guilty of this mistake. Yet, in some ways, I am. I gravitate toward the spiritually mature, believing only they can teach me. And I often overlook God's power evidenced in new Christians. Because they see God's Word with fresh eyes, new Christians astound me with their scriptural insights. Much like the remedy for Mistake #1, I need to remember God teaches me through many people, and he can definitely use a new Christian to reinvigorate my faith.
Mistake #4: Believing I've arrived spiritually. I sometimes zone out for the reading of familiar Scripture during my pastor's sermon, thinking, Yeah, yeah, I've heard this one before. I became aware of this when I asked my church's youth group to recite John 3:16 together. The teens rolled their eyes and practically yawned out the words. I wonder if I sometimes wear that bored facial expression in church. My poor pastor!
I'd previously pretty much dismissed a lot of my own unfortunate behavior. I wonder how many people have noticed my bad attitudes, bad facial expressions, and maybe even bad actions, and said, "That's how Christians behave? I don't want to be like them." I'm actually grateful to have read about the latest antics of the Phelps family; their bad behavior helped me recognize behavior I need to change. "Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting" (Psalm 139:23–24).
The next time I read a story or hear a conversation about "those Christian jerks," I'll try not to smugly nod in agreement. Instead, I'll listen carefully. After all, they just might be talking about me.
Blessings,
Holly
How do you respond when other Christians behave badly? Is recognizing bad behaviors in yourself difficult? What's helped you recognize and change these thoughts or behaviors?
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