Monday, February 25, 2013

Manic Mondays:

What Devotions look like at my house {sometimes}

So, some of you may know that I’m in school {if not, don’t worry, this will become increasingly clear as the semester thunders on – taking with it my aspirations of a clean home, my wardrobe *pajama pants as going-out clothes, anyone?*, and my ability to handle even the smallest conversation without first having to pause for 2 minutes while I search my exhausted *because I’m too stinking old to be a grad student, people* brain for coherent thoughts}.  If you know that much, you might wonder what I’m in school for.  Officially, I’m enrolled in the Masters of Divinity Program at {a local--because my views don't necessarily represent theirs} Seminary, with a focus on Christian Formation and Soul Care {translation: Masters degree, pastor track; specializing in being still and lighting candles to really hear God, or hiking and just breathing in God’s awesomeness – just not fully Catholic or hippy.  More amalgam of all the tools people have used over the centuries to commune with God, with a good dose of Evangelical Protestantism as the foundation.  You’re glad you asked, now, aren’t you?}

So, now you know where I’m coming from.  We do Lent.  We do mega-church.  We do home bible studies.  We do theology every.flippin’.chance.we.get.  I read a New Testament textbook to my son, and he decided he needed to be baptized – I wasn’t even fully grasping the text; but the 5 year old comprehended and acted.  My daughter absolutely nails the ontological argument.  Like a boss.  If anyone  in our family would make an apologist, it’s that logical young lady.  Because, as a family, we greatly value knowing God: both in an intimate, personal way, and in a theological, God wants us to know about Him way.  Yes, every morning, the minis get up early and before leaving their rooms, they crack their bibles {they’re better at it than me -- just one more snooze}.  But, sometimes, for family devo’s, we read Mommy or Daddy’s textbooks.  And we talk about the stuff in them.

Other times, the Officer or I find something {gasp} “wordly” – and we study God using these tools.  Tonight, the minis and I screened “To This Day” by Shane Koyczan.  It’s about bullying, and being hurt by other people’s words.  It doesn’t mention God or Jesus or the Spirit.  Not once.  It does mention: cutting and suicide attempts and abuse and loneliness and beauty and fear and trying to be strong.  And it is truth; even without God or Jesus or the Spirit in the overt.  It’s about fallen human being – the hurt we inflict on each other, the scars our sins leave all over the lives of other people.  The broken hearts in the wake of cruelty. 
 
So we watched it (don’t worry, quite a bit went over their heads – they don’t know what “suicide” means).  And then, we talked about what the poem’s about.  And we talked about why we don’t hurt people with words, or with exclusion.  About what the Firefly would do if she walked into a classroom where a sign reading, “beware of dog” was taped to another little girl’s desk.  About what the Koala would do if there was a boy in his class who was bombarded with spitballs.  About what Jesus did when He called Zacchaeus out of that tree – about what Jesus might do if He were in the 1st or 3rd grades.  How He would invite Zach, the lonely, weird kid who picks his nose, to play football instead of leaving him to hover by the fence just watching.  About how Jesus would invite Zachariah, the mean, fat kid who steals everybody’s pencils from their desks, to play groundies, instead of trying to hide from him all recess.  About how Jesus would go sit on the bench with Zahava, the gangly, loud girl whose clothes are always the wrong size, and ask if they could jump rope, instead of standing with the other girls pointing at her and laughing.  How Jesus would walk around the playground perimeter with Zaida, the shy, chestnut-skinned girl who always smells spicy and doesn’t read so well because her first language isn’t theirs, and talk about horses and puppies and kittens and the shapes of clouds, instead of throwing pebbles at her and mocking her in guttural sounds when she flinches.  We talk about how the Holy Spirit is in us so that we can do exactly those things.    

We talked about how every-single-person is made by God and is so precious to Him that He would give up all of the universe just to give that person His love.  About how each person is so valuable to God, that he or she is worth Jesus dying for.  {It’s a very familiar refrain in our house.  And yes, the minis sometimes respond with the exasperation of “do-we-really-have-to-go-over-this-again.”  Yes, my darlings, until people stop hurting other people; we most certainly do.}

Because while good, solid theology is crucial – it is our practice of it that matters most.     

              

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