I hope God never calls me to be president.  My faith, upbringing, and philosophy on life is so tainted with flip-flopping that the media and my critics alike would have a field day.  I would fill the entire New York Times Sunday paper with the amount of changes my mind has made over the years.

But, seriously, is not the changing of one’s mind (or at least the right to change one’s mind) the point of being human?  All of us begin life, if not our Christian life, feeding on milk (Hebrews 5:12-14) because we are still learning how to think, behave, and become reflective moral agents.  It takes years to get to the meat.

As we grow and study, we cultivate ideas that change and evolve as we change and evolve.  Some of these ideas come from our parents or mentors and shape who we are; other ideas or beliefs are left behind as we adapt to new situations.  Eventually, our faith becomes our own once and for all before we pass them on to our children.

It seems that flip-flopping, then, may be a Christian virtue to uphold rather than a bane to banish.  New Testament scholar Willard Swartley once wrote that if church and Bible study are not intended to challenge us and, at times, change our mind, then why do it in the first place?

According to Mark’s gospel, Jesus’ very first public preaching asked listeners to  “repent and believe in the Good News” (1:14).  That implies that Jesus knows something important about the Christian life:  That we are all called to change our mind–our very worldview!–in order to come to know God’s Good News for our life.

We are to turn 180 degrees in order to go from being “me-followers” to Christ-followers.  We are to flip-flop about everything we assume is true in life, and heed the very call of the One who embodies the Way, the Truth, and the Life.

Granted, repentance is not easy.  The reason why the media punishes politicians for changing their minds is because it reveals vulnerability, weakness, and insecurity.  Nobody wants to be any of those things; and if a candidate is not sure about his beliefs, then how is he going to lead an entire nation?

Thinking one way, usually a narrow way, over the course of a lifetime shows machismo, courage, and rough-n-tough American grit.  Even if we’re wrong, by-golly, we’re sticking to our guns. Such an attitude is as patriotic as apple pie.

The Christian life, however, depends on one’s ability to be vulnerable, meek, forgiving (of others and ourselves), and thoughtful.  We are called to grow, change, and constantly redirect our lives to follow Christ’s narrow path.

I have a feeling that many folks stay away from Christian communities, churches or otherwise, because they realize that repentance is often needed to maintain some sense of faith in most areas of life.  Sure, we can debate all of the stuff that we think might keep people from coming to know Christ or attending church or believing in God.  Yet, I think that it’s the requirement to repent–to change–that stands out as the crux (no pun intended) of such a commitment.

Perhaps a new beatitude is in order: “Blessed are those who change their mind, for they will soon ever discover the mind of Christ.”

So many Christians in our culture shy away from church and, often times, God because they have doubts about life, faith, and family.  People feel bad that they doubt.  They desire greater faith, but can’t figure out how to inspire hope and security.

Yet, doubt and faith are two sides of the same coin.  To doubt is to be human.  The Bible attests that God welcomes all who wrestle with their faith.  Abraham and Sarah doubted the ability to have a child promised by God; Jacob wrestled with God in the wilderness of despair.  Job questioned God’s justice and fairness, while Jesus asked for the “cup” of sacrifice be taken from him.

God doesn’t expect Christians to have all the answers before they come to Him, much less stubbornly hold to every belief that they’ve grown up with.   It seems clear that God only expects honesty and adoration, humility and a spirit of discovery.

Don’t let guilt or fear get the best of you today.  God helps with our belief, and God also helps us in our unbelief.

A prayer for doubters for today:

Lord, I am concerned–genuinely concerned–about the affairs of the universe.  I’ve pondered the problems of political ideology, of poverty, of war, of population explosion, and of civil rights.  Big problems.

They challenge because they are big problems.  They call for mass action, herculean efforts.  And I’m eager to plunge in. To save the world.

So what do I do, Lord?  How can I help slay these dragons?  I’ve already studied the problem, formed a committee, held discussions, made speeches.

And the problems are still there, bigger than ever.  Why can’t I get my teeth into the big problems? 

Lord, walk with me, simply walk with me.  Amen. 

(From “God Bless This Mess & Other Prayers, by Jo Carr and Imogene Sorley.)

While the deacons were serving the elements and I had a chance to pray before saying the liturgy of the sacrament, I realized just how important communion is in the life of the church during these troubling times.

Jesus didn’t say, “Do this in remembrance of the situation in which you find yourself, in the midst of hardship and challenges”; rather, Jesus said, “Do this in remembrance of me.”  It’s all about Jesus, our relationship with Him, and our ability to provide the Bread of life to others who long to see better days ahead.

The bread and the cup represent God’s presence abiding with God’s people–the very symbol of Christ’s body and blood broken for all our sakes. It is not something to take for granted, but brings us “back to the future”–a sacred ritual that brings together an ancient faith with a future hope: “Every time you eat this bread and drink this cup, you broadcast the death of the Lord until He comes” (1 Cor 11:26).

Communion is a divine encounter for sure.  I envy my Catholic brothers and sisters in Christ sometimes whose theology makes the “paschal mystery” more than symbolic–it is the very blood and body of Christ, central to mass that’s done as often as possible.

And it is mystery–wholly Other but intimately integrated into body and soul of each believer, that which nourishes our deepest longings for reconciliation with the God of the cosmos.

Before I became Trinity’s pastor, we scheduled communion in two different ways over the years.  At one time, we took communion the last Sunday of every month; at another, we took it once a quarter.  It seemed to be an asterick in worship; no matter the frequency, the monotony seemed to downplay the significance of the whole act.

We decided that communion would be best served–and most appreciated–if we did it intentionally on the Sundays that seemed to point to communion as the highlight of the service.  That meant being intentional to schedule communion as a central part of worship, even if it meant doing communion more than once a month.

This process allows communion to be a re-enactment of the Last Supper for a contemporary context.  That supper was a time in which Jesus gathered those who followed Him no matter how imperfect they seemed to be.  He made room for all of the Judases, Peters, Beloved Disciples, and even an entourage of women, some of whom engaged in some pretty promiscuous businesses.  In many ways, we are no different than that rag-tag band of peasants.

My own liturgy of the sacrament, less formal than many churches, goes something to the effect of: “On the day Jesus was betrayed, he gathered together a bunch of misfits not very different than us.  There he looked out and saw some disciples who loved him avidly, some who questioned and doubted, and some who would betray him, if not tonight, then some time soon.  Even so, Christ invited them to table and gave them bread: ‘Take, eat: a symbol of my body broken for you…’”

The words are a bit unconventional, but they make room for the divine encounter yet again.  Even we, who are redeemed sinners, find ourselves back at table to eat and drink no matter how many of us fail to fill the pews every Sunday or give our 10 percent tithe.

When Christ’s Church serves the bread and cup, all else fades away.  What matters most is the mystery of the elements and the feast that points to eternal life and, yes, better days ahead.

“When Paul laid his hands upon them, the Holy Spirit came upon them, and they spoke in tongues and prophesied” (Acts 19:6).

I remember the first time I got a taste of the charismatic movement inspired by the Brownsville and Toronto revivals of the mid-1990s.  I was walking into a family friend’s healthfood store and interrupted the friend and another person in prayer. She looked up at me and said, “Hi, Joe, we’re glad you’re here.  Come and catch my friend as I pray for her.”

I was fifteen at the time, and I didn’t know why I had to catch someone during prayer.  Nor did I know why I had to catch a strange woman.  I was very uncomfortable.  Nevertheless, my friend prayed for the woman, she fainted in my arms and I obediently lowered her to the ground.  She was, according to my friend, “slain in the Spirit.”

Shortly after that time I started attending a charismatic Presbyterian church.  Slaying of the Spirit, speaking in tongues, and other gifts became commonplace in weekly worship.  Although I did not have these same experiences (“manifestations,” as some call the gifts) as others in the church, I appreciated the Spirit’s movement in the congregation.  I did not have the same prayer language, but it was that same Spirit that nurtured my faith and inspired my calling.

Charismatic gifts are a controversial subject, but the fruit of the Spirit’s mysterious presence is abundant despite what some may believe.  Charismatic faith expressions are on the rise throughout the globe, especially in South America and Africa; Pentecostalism–the primary denomination that promotes such gifts–is growing faster than other Protestant groups.

As a Baptist who has walked with two different camps–one in which charismatic gifts was a way of life, and the other in which “private prayer languages” was all but banned for denominational leaders and clergy (the Southern Baptist Convention had issues in 2007 on the subject)–I know that it is better to give the Spirit room to work than to quench the Spirit by denying His power.

Paul’s first letter to the Thessalonian community encourages readers to “not quench the Spirit” and to “test all things” (5:19-21).  Paul seems to argue on behalf of moderation: To claim that the “baptism of the Holy Spirit” as expressed by tongues and other manifestations is necessary for salvation is just as erroneous as denying that these same manifestations exist whatsoever.

One thing I learned in my home church is this: The Spirit works differently among Christians and Christian communities.  Only when we deem our own perspective as the “only way” that God works do we start to deny the Spirit’s power in God’s kingdom agenda for all creation.

The Bible also affirms the importance of the Holy Spirit in the Trinity.  It’s the Spirit that drove Jesus to the wilderness and anointed him for ministry to the poor, oppressed, captive, and blind (Luke 4).  It is the Paraclete (Greek for comforter) that consoled the disciples in a time of persecution and gave them the appropriate words to say to defend the Gospel.  It is the Spirit that motivated missions, inspired visions, and promoted the work of God in the early church.

The Holy Spirit continues to work in our life even when we forget to acknowledge the Spirit’s presence.  The Holy Spirit continues to impart gifts that grant us power for ministry and missions.

Catching that woman so long ago did not necessarily inspire me to become “slain in the Spirit,” but it did impress upon me a timeless, surprising truth: That my relationship with the Spirit is necessary for an effective life as a Christ-follower.

This year, as you make your New Year’s resolutions, I encourage you too to provide room for the Holy Spirit to work in your life, and to surprise you along the way.

I knew trouble was on its way when I found out on Christmas Eve that a lasagna I was baking was the main entree for that evening’s supper. To have it as the main course put undo pressure on my Italian cooking skills.  It became inconvenient and a burden.

Then, around midnight that very evening, I was just about to go to sleep and await Santa’s arrival when my wife dropped a dozen toys on the bed.

“Wow,” I said, “You have a lot of gifts to wrap.”

She hit me with a roll of wrapping paper and insisted I help.  Inconvenient and certainly not what I wanted to do at midnight.  Not only do I not like Christmas with too many inconveniences, I like my Christmas without a cost.

I have a feeling that we all like a Christmas that is not costly or inconvenient.  We know it’s Jesus’ birthday, but we like Jesus to stay under the tree and not intrude on our lives too much.  We like things to go our way.

I’m sure Ceasar Augustas and the entire religious establishment in first-century Palestine felt the same way when Jesus was born.  When the Magi told Herod that a king had been born, he did not welcome the inconvenient truth that God was becoming human in his neck of the woods.

God’s intrusion upon the world–upon the entire cosmos–as He came in the form of a poor baby from Nazareth was quite inconvenient.  Until then, God was distant.  Everyone stayed in line, and things got done through the heavy-hand of government, law, and piety.  When God came, however, the standard changed.

In the “Nunc dimittis,” an old prophet, Simeon, blessed Jesus when Jesus’ parents dedicated him at the temple as was the custom in those days (Luke 2:25-35).  Simeon announced the implications of God’s presence: Jesus will be a light to the gentiles and the glory of Israel.

Salvation had come, but at a cost.  Simeon pointed out an inconvenient truth: The Christ-child will be cause the rising and falling of many in history, a sign that will be opposed.  In coming near to us, Jesus shines a light in our lives and exposes those things that we need to surrender to God.  Inconvenient indeed.

Jesus will also cause others to rise–those very people whom many would rather see put down: the poor, the helpless, and the vulnerable.  In God’s economy, life situations are reversed and God’s reign looks very different than what we expect.  Christmas is a costly one, and we will continue to oppose God’s presence for as long as we stubbornly hold to what we want rather than what God wants.

That Christ child born so long ago was a costly intrusion of God on earth.  Destined for an itinerant life of ministry, doomed to die on a cross, Jesus’ birth cost God his son.  God surrendered God’s all for us.

Christmas calls into account the cost of discipleship.  Not only do we need to let Jesus cause the downfall of those dark areas of our life, but it costs us our all to rise for him.  Following Christ costs us our very lives, and the inconvenience that follows the Christian life often hampers our full obedience.

When the angel told Mary that Jesus will be called Emmanuel, “God with us,” the angel was expressing an inconvenient truth because God’s presence means that we actually have to change.  Let our prayer be a simple one as we head into the new year:  ”More of you, O Lord, and less of me. Amen, and amen.”

John then sees another sign, a dragon that stands ready to devour the child upon the child’s birth.  The child is born, and just before the dragon pounces, angels snatch the baby to heaven and send the woman into the wilderness.

There is great controversy surrounding the interpretation of this rich text and many questions remain.  Whether it is an alternative scene of the Christmas morning is under scrutiny.  No matter its meaning, historical or otherwise, we find that this story reminds us of a simple truth: The Enemy is always ready to devour us in our most vulnerable moment.

There are many occasions in the Bible in which Satan stands ready to steal the hearts, minds, and souls of God’s children.  In Job, Satan the Accuser went “to and fro” upon the earth (Job 1:7).  In the gospels, Peter became especially vulnerable when he heard about Jesus’ eventual death.  Jesus “rebuked” him and told him to “get thee behind me Satan” (Matt. 16:23).  First Peter advises us to keep alert and sober, because “your adversary the devil prowls around, looking for someone to devour” (1 Peter. 5:8).

When we forget that Satan is one who draws near to us simply because we try to do God’s will, we forget Satan has the power to keep us from reaching our greatest potential in Christ.

Ever wonder why you fear telling your co-worker about Jesus when she talks about her failing marriage?  It might just be Satan keeping you from telling the Good News.  What about the many times you make a promise only to break it the next day?  It just might be the Enemy tempting you, and quite successfully at that.

Too often, we blame our shortfalls–individual and communal–on other influences.  My own tradition–that of the progressive movement–has a bad habit of blaming social or economic systems for the woes of humanity.  Why blame Satan when CEOs make for excellent scapegoats?

And conservatives aren’t exempt–It’s not all about individual responsibility and laziness when it comes to society’s moral decay.

After reading Revelation 12, we can be reminded that the real culprit to many of our issues might not necessarily be as explicit as an unethical corporation.  The real culprit might just be a Spiritual Being, eluding us at every turn and deceiving us into believing that we can master its very presence.

The Bible attests to the fact that Satan does a good job of flying under the radar while he binds us and keeps us in the throes of despair and death.  The gospel of Mark (5:1-20) tells of a demoniac who lived in a cemetery.  The local villagers tried to chain him, but to no avail.  Interestingly, even though the man broke out of the chains, he still did not leave the cemetery.  He didn’t need chains to keep him bound to the evil presence in his midst.

Only when Jesus liberated this captive from spiritual bondage did the man finally become free enough to return home as a healed individual.  No system, political or otherwise, or excuse kept the man in the tombs.  He was always free to go home, but Jesus named the problem–there were demons about–and gave the man permission to move beyond the pretense of shackles and chains.

Christmas morning allows us to celebrate Christ’s birth, but it also makes room for God to give birth to something new in our life.  My prayer is that God will give all of us liberation from the Enemy, that we may reach our greatest potential in Christ for the sake of the Gospel.

There is something in a name.  We at Trinity Baptist know a thing or two about the importance of names.  Recently, we heard a rumor that Trinity was changing its name to Grace Christian Church.  Although the rumor is not true, there is a church by that same name meeting in our building on Sundays after we meet for worship.  Their sign on our front lawn is pretty effective, to say the least.

Truth is, it would be hard for Trinity to change its name; and I fear if we ever did, it would not be in the best interest of the church.  Several years ago, there was another rumor in the church that we were going to take “Baptist” out of the name.  If we did that, then the entire identity of our little church would have likely changed too.

Yes, there is something in a name.  Even the Southern Baptist Convention has put together a task force to study the issue.  It will likely lead to some conflict; not much, I pray.

Early in my marriage, my wife and I would spend hours (traveling from Georgia to Florida to visit family) trying to figure out names for our future children.  There were my favorite girl names, like Catherine and Gina; and boy names, like Wolfgang, Woodrow, and (my Uncle’s awesomely Italian middle name) Onofio.  I can’t quite remember what my wife’s suggestions were.

Then there are mismatched names.  Consider the irony in the name of the Dove World Outreach church, whose pastor burned Qurans last year.  The name doesn’t match the actions.  After all, a dove is supposed to be a symbol of peace and reconciliation.

Whether it be the subject of rumor, a mismatched title, or a silly name game, there is something in a name.  Names provide meaning and identity, they communicate a history packed with importance.  Those names I suggested for our children did not come out of thin air; rather, each one has meaning and invokes a relative from our family (except Wolfgang, that was just my idea).

When God came to earth and became a human for our sake, God went by two different names in the earliest days.  The first was Jesus and the second one, Emmanuel.  Both have theological significance and communicate God’s intentions to redeem all of creation.

Jesus, a form of Joshua, means “savior.”  Emmanuel means “God with us.”  Both names announce to the world that the baby born in a manger so long ago is more than just a baby.  When Mary kissed the face of her child, she was truly kissing the very face of God.  The names mean that God became intimate with creation and embraced the world unto Himself.

Although John 3:16 is a critical text–one worthy of adorning poster boards at football games–John 3:17 connects the Christmas story with the mission of God: “God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”

I’m not sure why so many Christians are quick to condemn the world.  As “little Christs” (as the word, Christian, implies), we too are called to give birth to God’s salvation in the darkest, least expected places in our community.  We need to go before kings and queens, presidents and representatives to proclaim Christ’s lordship, as well as to the mangers, inns, bars and brothels throughout our society to tell folks of the life-transforming Good News of Jesus’ salvation.

We are called, all of us, to remind the world that God’s “name is called Emmanuel, more wonderful than words can tell …Born in the darkness, He is Light; born in our weakness, He is might.”  We pray that God’s name will do all the talking and that our actions will bear witness to His lordship upon our life.

This is based on the sermon for the second Sunday of Advent at Trinity Baptist Church.

“He will feed his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms” (Isaiah 40:11)

In the November 29 issue of The Christian Century, the Reverend Bill Goetler writes about a homeless man, Danny, whom he befriended one winter season.   Bill writes about Danny’s comings and goings and their random meetings in the neighborhood.

In their happenstance meetings in the neighborhood, Danny asks for things—money or food—and Bill sometimes gives joyfully and other times gives with some hesitation.

But every time Bill runs into Danny, Danny delivers a one-line sermon:  “Reverend, Is this the way it is supposed to be?”

With Autumn packing up for the season and getting ready to go on vacation in Cancun, Winter makes its way into our life like an unwelcome guest knocking at our door without warning.  The trees look barer, our heaters are running more these days.  Our cat stands in the backyard and looks at us through the glass door whining for a warm bowl of milk.

Winter also brings with it words from Isaiah that we don’t like to hear: “Grass withers, the flower fades” (40:7).  We get sleepy because it gets dark earlier; our bodies grow heavy under the burdens we have put up with in the past year—cancer, grief, runny noses, economic hardships.  Things wither and fade.

“Hey, Reverend, is this the way it is supposed to be?”

In Advent, we recall the time when Israel faced its long winter under the Roman Empire.  Their economy, like ours, wasn’t great.   Darkness covered the land; fear was the order of the day.  Everyone’s grief-stricken walk was slightly askew, more like a hobble.

But in Advent, we don’t let winter have the final say.  Yes, winter may come into our homes and make itself comfortable, sitting in our easy chair and putting its dirty feet on our grandmother’s footrest.  It may even steal our sheets or hog all the hot water.  We know, however, that God reigns and that God keeps His promises.  We know that even in the midst of winter, the light of new life breaks into our souls, shines brightly, and warms our hearts.

Isaiah gives a rebuttal to winter:

“See, the Lord God comes with might…He will feed his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms, and carry them in his bosom” (40:10, 11).

Isaiah, who just told us about grass withering, turns the tone of his words on its head and erupts in praise and promise.   He declares God embrace even in winter.

Last week, our Hanging of the Green service at Trinity brought some color into our black-and-white world.  After all, if there is anyplace we should go to be comforted and find hope in winter, it should be the church.

We adorned the sanctuary with nature, God’s very handiwork; we lit the Christmon tree, and we experienced life’s ever-green vitality placed under God’s care.

We need God’s embrace these days.  The holidays are hard for some folks in our community, especially those who long to spend one more Christmas with a lost loved one.  For other folks, it’s nothing more than a nuisance—Christmas shopping, business parties, and such.   Some are too broke to shop at all.

But no matter where we are when winter knocks on our door, we can be confident that this is not “the way it is supposed to be.”  God provides light and grace and a strong embrace—Warm and refreshing, like hot chocolate by the fire place.

Advent ultimately points to the light of Christmas.  Ever hold a newborn baby?  Feel the baby’s heartbeat against your own?  Ever admire a baby’s somber silence or cry for food?  Ever see that miraculous glow that babies emit?  Ever kiss a baby and feel that you were kissing the very face of God?  That’s the way it is supposed to be.  That’s the way it is supposed to be.  Amen and Amen.

Source: Bill Goettler, “Living By the Word,” The Christian Century (29 November 2011): 20.

Although I’ve been a pastor for less than two years, I can hopefully help you, dear reader, narrow down some great gift ideas for your beloved clergy.  I figure that many pastors think like I do, so perhaps my wish list will be theirs as well.  With tongue firmly in cheek, here are my personal recommendations:

Gift idea 1:  Write your pastor a letter.  Although email, tweets, and Facebook updates are becoming the primary form of correspondences these days, nothing says “We appreciate you” like a hand-written letter.  I’m not talking about a note here, something you might send after a moving sermon.  I’m suggesting a full-out, feature-length letter that expresses your gratitude and appreciation for all he or she does for you and your church.

Gift idea 2:  Get your pastor a really nice tie.  Truth be told, we pastors could never have enough ties.  Like those of you who run out of “nice clothes to wear,” we run out of nice ties to wear about mid-year.  We know that most churchgoers don’t notice what tie we wear from week to week, but that’s besides the point.  Go for the silk; cheap ties are way too tacky.  Go for patterns rather than religious-themed ties; it lets your pastor know that you realize he is a regular person that actually has a life outside of the church.

Gift idea 3:  Get a gift card to your pastor’s favorite coffee shop, restaurant, or bookstore.  Of course, that requires asking your pastor to list his or her favorites.  Don’t assume that your pastor favors Lifeway, Applebees, or Starbucks.   She probably (a) runs on Dunkin,  (b) prefers Cokesbury over Lifeway, and (c) enjoys Chilis over Red Lobster.

Gift idea 4: Tickets to the local movie theater.  Again, any way that you can communicate to your pastor that you know he or she is a regular person and does have a life outside of the black robe will win you points and a handsome smile of appreciation.  Make sure the tickets are open-ended and not necessarily to a specific movie like, you know, something really R-rated or G-rated.  For extra points, include a gift card so a popcorn-and-drink combo can be purchased at concessions.

Please note the next few ideas will require more resources or a generous spirit on your part.  If you’re as frugal as my father, no need to read further.

Gift idea 5:  An overnight stay at your Florida and/or North Georgia mountain summer home.  With only the family.  Actually this is really important because, once again, it communicates to your pastor that he or she has the ability to do some serious self-care and get guilt-free R-and-R.  Offer to plan worship and get a preacher on the weekend they take advantage of your place, and this will be a huge benefit for all involved.

Gift idea 6:  A Porsche.  Preferably convertible.  Don’t worry about lack of seating for the rest of his family; that’s what the minivan is for.  You think I’m kidding, but I’m not.  Here’s one used on Craigslist for under $12,000.00.  Okay, maybe I’m kidding a little bit.  But not really if you thought seriously about it.  Really.

Although Christmas is still several weeks away, it is never too early to shop for your pastor.  It’s never too early to have fun doing it, too.  If you’re still stuck on what to get your pastor, do what I would do: simply ask him what he wants, and have a great Advent season!

“The Neverending Story” is about a magical kingdom that is quickly deteriorating.  The empress of the Kingdom chooses a child-warrior, Atreyu, to save the kingdom.  He goes on a quest and finds an old sage who tells him that only the Southern Oracle can reveal how to save the kingdom.

Getting to the Southern Oracle is the hard part: Atreyu must pass through two gates, tests of sorts.  The second gate appears to be mundane:  It’s a magic mirror.  This mirror shows a person for who he or she really is.  Many who have looked into the mirror run away screaming mad at what they saw.

For many of us, any mirror is a challenge.  We don’t spend too much time in front of them, but when we do, the image that often confronts us may show how anxious, uncertain, or insecure we are.  We usually only see that which we lack, be it good looks or lack of wealth (“I have nothing nice to wear!”).

People can also act as mirrors to us.  If we are people filled with hate, we will only see hate in others.  If we can’t forgive ourselves, it is hard to forgive others.  If we are filled with fear, we only see others as threats.  When we only see what we lack, then we can only focus on what others lack; and that is pretty frightening indeed.

Luke 9:10-17 tells a story about the time when Jesus and his disciples confront a crowd of 5,000 people.  Jesus and his disciples were ministering all day, and they were trying to find solace in the quiet town of Bethsaida.   The crowds, those who hungered for God’s Word and healing, found Jesus and the disciples.

Interesting thing about that crowd: The masses acted as a mirror for Jesus and his followers.  Scripture tells us that Jesus gladly welcomed the crowds and ministered to them without hesitation.  When he looked into the crowd, all he could see was God’s presence and the opportunity to have divine interactions with those who needed him most.

When the disciples saw the crowd, they only saw their lack of resources and scarcity.  They asked Jesus to send the crowds away.  ”We have no food,” the disciples said, “And we can’t feed them because we are in a deserted place.”

The disciples had food, but from their perspective they didn’t have enough.  Jesus, however, peered into that mirror and only saw God’s abundance, and he saw enough food to go around.

Instead of looking around and seeing desert, Jesus “looked up to heaven and blessed the bread.”  Then, Jesus had the disciples feed the crowd.  Scripture tells us that the masses were not only “filled,” but had left-overs as well.

In an economy of scarcity, we usually fail to see all that God has given us.  We get so busy focusing on our lack, we fail to give thanks for what we have.  We look around at others and see what they have and what we want, or perhaps we peer into our own situation and only see the dry landscape of a barren desert.

When we trust that God is a God of abundance and of the rich harvest (“I am the bread of life,” Jesus tells us in John 6), then we may begin to look in the mirror and see Christ starring back at us.  When we look in the mirror and see Christ, then when we look at others we will see the Christ in them too.  We can welcome others and nourish them with resources that we no longer hesitate to share.

(This is based on the sermon delivered at the community Thanksgiving service at Epiphany Lutheran on November 22.  The service highlighted Family Promise, a local non-profit which hosted its first set of homeless families at Rockdale Baptist Church on November 13.)