There Is No “Them”

Stephen White, writing for Red Letter Christians:

Us versus them. It is one of the oldest sentences the human heart knows how to say, older than language, certainly older than scripture. Us is the circle drawn warm and close, the people whose grief is our grief, whose children we would run into a burning house to save. Them is everyone on the far side, the ones we have decided, somewhere below conscious thought, we are allowed not to love…

There is us. There is them. Everybody knows that. And then a man came walking out of Galilee, dust on his feet, and said the single strangest thing anyone had ever said about it, a thing so strange that two thousand years later we still have not really begun to believe he meant it.

He said: Love your enemies.

Removing the us-versus-them mentality from my worldview is something I am constantly working on, because there’s no room for it in the heart of someone who has compassion for the world. If I truly believe – as I claim – to see everybody I come into contact with as a full person deserving of the same dignity, consideration, and respect that I desire for myself and my loved ones, then I can’t really see anyone else as “other.”

We are all people with feelings, desires, dreams, needs, and full inner lives, and we each deserve to be treated as such. We each deserve to have our needs met. My faith teaches me that every human being is created in the image of God, and it’s my job to recognize that divine reflection in every person I encounter, whether they’re similar to me or not.

I highly recommend reading White’s piece in full because it beautifully illustrates how Jesus serves as an example of what loving our enemies and crossing us-versus-them lines looks like, as well as how we can follow his example today. Making the world a better place starts with empathy, and it requires that we tear down the walls we’ve built in our heads between ourselves and those we don’t see as part of our in-group.

There is no them, only us.

Merry Christmas

A baby can change everything.

I certainly learned that this year. The arrival of our son marked a major shift in the history of our family. Things would never be the same—not for us, anyway.

Today, we celebrate the arrival of a different baby, after which things would never be the same for anyone. God With Us, Immanuel, has come. The birth of Christ changed the course of history itself and the hearts of countless many.

He is the greatest gift that could ever have been given, and today especially, I cherish his presence here with us. Jesus is born! And because of that, we celebrate.

Life is filled with marvelous gifts, big and small, the best of which are the people who make our lives rich. I’m thankful for my son, my wife, my dog, family, friends, and for all the kind people I get to interact with and learn from daily, including you. My heart is full this holiday.

Merry Christmas to you and yours!

A Choice

Last week, my family and I said goodbye to my cousin Haven. At 19 years old, he was too young for many of the things that had been thrown his way, and he was far too young to lose his life. He will be missed dearly by his many friends, by his family, and by me.

As I’ve absorbed the shock of his passing, I’ve found myself trying to make sense of it all. To figure out some way of explaining what happened. I think that’s natural. After all, we take comfort in the notion that there’s some sort of logic behind the things that happen to us.

Some say every event that takes place, whether good or bad, is part of a greater plan. That even tragedies make up pieces of God’s purpose. I appreciate the motivation behind this idea, to find meaning in the terrible things that happen to us. But I have to disagree. There are many things that happen in this life contrary to the will of God, which is why God hurts with us when disaster strikes.

I believe that God’s plan for Haven was for him to live an abundant life. That his death is as much a loss for the universe as it is for me. That it wasn’t supposed to be this way.

There is no logic in a kind, beloved 19-year-old with endless potential having his life suddenly cut short. There is no greater plan behind a family in mourning. Despite our best efforts to find one, there is no cosmic reason that our hearts are broken.

The disasters that we face in this life are a result of the broken world that we live in. A world where bad things happen to good people. Where we hurt each other and ourselves. Where we can’t escape the effects of the darkness we’ve created by choosing to live selfishly.

Why do disasters happen? Because we’ve created a world where they are possible.

When I think about this deep brokenness we face, it can sometimes seem like enough to overwhelm me. I feel my own heartache, and I imagine all the other people experiencing loss in their own way. It can feel like too much to bear.

But then I have to remind myself that that’s not the whole story. As dark as this world may seem, there is good in it, too—though it may be hard to see at times. Brokenness doesn’t have to have the final say.

There is beauty in this life. There is grace. There is love. There is so much good, if only we’ll look for it and choose to create it ourselves.

Haven did that. He generated a lot of good in his short life. Attending his memorial, I was surrounded by the many people he’d touched through his kindness, his wit, and his charm. I was reminded of the times that we had together growing up, all the fun and the joy. I saw his love of life and those around him through the memories shared.

Those things are good, and they don’t go away, even in the midst of unimaginable loss. The darkness won’t overcome the light if we don’t let it.

When we’re forced to face the brokenness of this world, we are given a choice: Do we let ourselves become broken by it, too, or do we work to heal it? We can let the tragedies overwhelm us. Or we can make the world a better place for everyone through the way we live.

That’s what I’m inspired to do. My cousin brought light into this world; I will honor him by choosing to do the same.

The truth is that we can’t stop tragedy from coming our way. It’s an unfortunate side effect of the world that we live in. But what we can do is take what we’re given and use it to do as much good as we’re able: to help others, to create beauty, to share love. It’s the closest thing we have to making sense of it all.

And for me, it’s enough.

A New Beginning

A thrill of hope 
The weary world rejoices 
For yonder breaks 
a new and glorious morn' 

I’ve always been a big fan of the week between Christmas and New Year’s Day. Coming off the joy of the holiday, it’s a great time to rest up and prepare for the new year ahead. It also feels like an extended celebration of the hope that Christmas brings.

Christ’s appearing on earth was a new beginning for all of humanity. It split history itself in two. Through his incarnation, Jesus shows us that God is with us, that God cares about us, and that we can find hope and peace in the very presence of God.

That’s what we celebrated last week. And later this week, we’ll celebrate a different kind of beginning: the start of a new calendar year. It’s a reflective and hopeful season every time it comes around, but after the year we’ve all had, I think a new start is something we’re all especially looking forward to.

Change is on the horizon. A new beginning is coming, and whatever that looks like for you, I hope you’ll find hope in knowing that things can and will get better. I know I am.

See you in the new year, friends.

Jesus in the Storm

Like everyone, I’m juggling a lot of different emotions right now. The problems we’re facing in our country—only made more difficult by the instability, division, and feelings of helplessness that they’ve highlighted—have left me quite discomforted. It’s not an easy time to navigate.

But in the midst of it all, one thing I won’t allow myself to do is lose hope. As a person of faith, I know that there is no situation so dire that it can overcome my trust in God. Even now, I cling to this hope that I’ve been blessed with.

In my personal devotion time lately, I’ve been reading through the book of John, which has always been my favorite gospel. I was really encouraged by this passage, so I thought I’d share it with you. It’s a story most of us have probably heard before: Jesus walking on the water. But I think it’s worth revisiting today.

Here’s John 16:16-21 from the Christian Standard Bible:

When evening came, his disciples went down to the sea, got into a boat, and started across the sea to Capernaum. Darkness had already set in, but Jesus had not yet come to them. A high wind arose, and the sea began to churn. After they had rowed about three or four miles, they saw Jesus walking on the sea. He was coming near the boat, and they were afraid. But he said to them, “It is I. Don’t be afraid.” Then they were willing to take him on board, and at once the boat was at the shore where they were heading. 

The disciples were out on the sea without their teacher when a terrible storm hit. These men were alone in the middle of the sea fighting for their very lives. Can you imagine the fear they must have felt? Maybe our current circumstances have rendered that fear a little more accessible to you now.

But then here comes Jesus walking on the water. That must have been a strange sight to behold. To be honest, I’m not sure I can really picture someone walking on water, but the gospel tells us that Jesus was somehow doing it. And it just freaked the disciples out even more.

Their fear was put to rest, though, the moment that he spoke. I’m not a big fan of the way verse 20 is translated into English. It might be the best way to render it grammatically, but this translation misses the entire theological point of Jesus’s statement here.

The Greek version of Jesus’s statement is “ἐγώ εἰμι,” which can be translated, “It is I,” but more literally means, “I am.” That phrase, “I am,” is so much more than just a statement of presence. It’s Jesus proclaiming his identity as God to the disciples.

In Exodus 3, Moses is conversing with God before going to Egypt to lead the Israelites to freedom and asks for his name. God responds, “I AM WHO I AM. This is what you are to say to the Israelites: I AM has sent me to you” (vv. 14). The name of God in the Bible is Yahweh, “I am.”

So when Jesus tells his disciples, “I am,” they immediately know what that means. This is what we call a theophany. Yes, Jesus is identifying himself as their teacher and their leader, but he’s also identifying himself as their lord and their God. And in doing so, he dispelled all of their fear.

Suddenly, the storm didn’t seem so bad, because God was with them. In fact, the gospel tells us that as soon as Jesus got into the boat, they arrived at their destination. They had weathered the storm because the great “I am” was with them.

We’re in the middle of a storm right now. It’s scary, it’s life-threatening, and we don’t know when it’s going to end. But we can know one thing: Jesus is with us in the storm.

He loves us. He’ll never leave us. He wants nothing but the best for us. And he is with us, even now.

That doesn’t mean the danger isn’t real. It doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t be concerned or make smart decisions for our health or admit that we’re scared. It simply means that even though things are difficult right now, we know we can face the storm, because God is with us.

That gives me hope today. I pray it gives you hope as well. Let’s continue to encourage each other and see each other through this, friends. You are not alone.

Thank you all for reading, and I’ll see you next week.