“Hello, this is the Stricklin residence.”
I will never forget where I was when the phone rang. It was a typical Saturday in October. Dad had gone to pick-up take-out from our favorite Chinese restaurant, and mom was cleaning the house while I sat in the coveted pink recliner – dad’s chair – and watched TV.
Like a good daughter, I quickly emerged from my television-induced stupor and answered the phone.
The very brief conversation that followed is a bit of a blur. I re
member someone with a very authoritative voice telling me he was trying to contact my father. He had a rank and title that sounded military, but I can honestly say I was too shocked to understand the details. I quickly ran the phone to my mom and thrust it into her explaining that SHE needed to talk to this man.
It wasn’t long after that I was back in my chair trying to eavesdrop on the conversation in the other room. Soon after, my very strong mother came speed walking into the living room looking f
or her cell phone. With tears in her eyes she said these words, “It’s Adam. He’s dead. I need your father.”
Adam Quinn was a member of our church. He was the eldest son of one of the sweetest couples that I’ve ever met and the older brother of the coolest kid in the youth group. I never had the chance to know Adam in the way others did, but I have been honored to call his mother, Sherri, one of my adopted moms.
You see, Adam was serving in Kabul, Afghanistan, with the U.S. Army 82nd Airborne Division. His pregnant wife, Faye, was also in the military and anxiously awaited Adam’s return from the war so they could begin their life as a family of three. Unfortunately, Adam never returned home. He noticed a friend of his had not been able to rest after driving caravans for multiple days – so Adam said he would take his place. It was during that last drive that they encountered a car bomb outside Kabul, and it was there that Adam left this world.
Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends. John 15:13 ESV
Memorial Day is a time where we gather to remember those who have given the ultimate sacrifice for this country. We remember people like Adam who lived out John 15:13.
For a long time I found great sadness in this day. I focused on the loss that my friends had experienced. I focused on the missed school plays, graduations, and life events. I thought about everything that could have been.
That is not what Memorial Day is about.
In that same chapter we read the following:
12 “This is my commandment, that you love
one another as I have loved you. 13 Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends. 14 You are my friends if you do what I command you. 15 No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you. 16 You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide, so that whatever you ask the Father in my name, he may give it to you. 17 These things I command you, so that you will love one another.
Jesus does not stop after verse thirteen. He has chosen us, appointed us to more. We are not called to remember the sacrifice of others so that we mourn their loss. We remember their sacrifice as the greatest example of God’s love. The love that God then calls us to share and demonstrate to one another (17).
Yes, healing comes through grief. And as Christians we grieve the loss of life. But this Memorial Day I urge you to remember those who have sacrificed and remember God’s love and be grateful. Remember that we worship a God who understands loss. A God who understands sacrifice. He knows the brokenness of the World and He redeems it! Praise God!
We do not celebrate war. We do not celebrate death. What we celebrate is the visible reminder of God’s love. Greater love has no one than this. We remember, and we take that love with us into the world.
[author] [author_image timthumb=’on’]https://www.christchurchbham.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/G_M38-1.jpeg[/author_image] [author_info]Mary Lytle is the Minister of Communications at Christ Church United Methodist. She holds a bachelor’s degree in biology from Asbury University and a Master of Arts in Ministry from Asbury Theological Seminary. Mary grew up as a preacher’s kid in Deland, Florida. Now, Mary lives in Helena, Alabama with her husband George. She has a passion for discipleship and young adult ministry. George and Mary hope to positively impact the University of Montevallo campus where George is the newest Mathematics professor. [/author_info] [/author]
It seems awkward to think about what Sunday morning hospitality at Christ Church will be like after we finally get through all this Covid-19 stuff. So much of my Sunday morning ministry is displayed by a heart felt “good morning” (usually 2-3 feet away from the recipient), a firm welcoming handshake, and a smile. But recently, I have heard from at least one of our country’s top disease specialist, Dr. Anthony Fauci, that we “may never shake hands again.” How can that be I ask myself?
For centuries the handshake and others forms of touching have been the foundation of cultural and professional hospitality between individuals. According to Manners & Customs of Bible Times (Gower, 2000 p.189), the traditional greeting “involved the laying on of hands on each other’s shoulders then a pulling together and the giving of a kiss, first on the right cheek and then on the left.” Samuel kissed Saul when he anointed him (1 Samuel 10:1), Simon the Pharisee failed to greet Jesus in such a way when he came as a guest to his home (Luke 7:45), and Paul wrote “Greet one another with a holy kiss” (Romans 16:16).
Years ago, I remember leading First Methodist Opelika Alabama’s Prison Ministry away from simply putting items (candy, books, paper and pens) on a table for the inmates to grab and take as they please. Instead I encouraged volunteers to hold the items in their hands and then give them to the inmates who desire them (and to do so with a smile looking them in the eyes). I called it the giving of God’s Grace, and it became a form of greeting that was transformative to many of those inmates. They didn’t just take something, they received something!
So, what will the good people of Christ Church be able to do when we are finally invited back together? How will we greet, and fellowship, and worship together? Unfortunately, I do not have an answer for you at this time. But I believe God has an answer. I have faith that God will show us how to lovingly greet one another, how to have a cup of coffee and joyful fellowship with each other, and how we will stand together and praise His Holy Name. I believe that so strongly that I am willing To Shake On it!
Grace and Peace,
First Impressions Minister
[seriesengine_wo enmse_dss=4 enmse_pag=20 enmse_apag=12 enmse_e=1 enmse_r=1 enmse_sort=1]
She doesn’t have words for this
But does she need them
When the whole world trembles with the same fear
Grieves the same loss of the illusion of control
Grabs at the same threads of hope
Watches the same sun move across the same sky
Waiting for the resurrection
I am writing this the day before Easter Sunday. How strange that my feelings of sadness about our current world mixed with doubt, fear, anxiety must have also mirrored that of Jesus’ followers. And yet, I know there is hope tomorrow. There is joy and song and new life. There is a hallelujah that is bubbling up from my throat that I almost can’t contain.
I read the above poem on Instagram this week and it just hit home for me.
I don’t have words for what we are all going through. Do I even need them?
We are all trembling together. We are all staying home keeping our babies safe, happy, and entertained.
We are grieving the control and routine we used to have. The leisurely walks through Target are a thing of the past. The carpool lines, play dates, library trips and playground visits are nonexistent.
We are grabbing at threads of hope or toilet paper. Maybe it’s the hour when our husband (whose job is essential) walks through the door or clocks out at his home office, maybe when the mail arrives with our stimulus check, or even the baby’s nap. Yet none of those things offer the everlasting hope and always leave us wanting more.
Watching the same sun move across the same sky, Waiting for the resurrection. Waiting for the quarantine to be lifted? No, something better is offered. The weight of sin has been lifted. He has risen (Mark 16:6). We know that our Redeemer lives (Job 19:25). Even in our hard, long days of isolation, we are not alone. We are not dead in our sin; we are alive with Christ (Col 2:13).
Mommas, I don’t know if we will get to meet this summer for Mom Time. Nothing is guaranteed. Was it ever? What I do know is that you are not alone. And in these heavy days, cling closer to the cross. Lean into his words in scripture. Abide in him. I know I have good days and bad days as this time marches on but the more I rely on him, the more precious this time with my family is becoming. Remind me of that again at bath time!
CC Women’s Ministry Team
By Michael Bowman
If man had his way, the plan of redemption would be an endless and bloody conflict. In reality, salvation was bought not by Jesus’ fist, but by His nail-pierced hands; not by muscle but by love; not by vengeance but by forgiveness; not by force but by sacrifice. Jesus Christ our Lord surrendered in order that He might win; He destroyed His enemies by dying for them and conquered death by allowing death to conquer Him.”― A.W. Tozer
The next day, Holy Saturday is a time of solitude and sabbath. It is a chance for us to meditate on the time that Jesus was dead and buried. This Saturday is one of anticipation because we know the end of the story.
We know that death is not the end. We know that, soon, Jesus is walking out of that tomb. Yet, we wait with anticipation and longing. We await the coming of the third day, where our true hope is found.
Because of Easter, you and I are new people living in a new world.
We fell away from what we were intended to be, as beloved daughters and sons created to bear the image God. Yet, on Easter, our image was restored. We have been mended back together, and our broken relationship with God has been made right again. This does not mean that evil no longer exists, for it does. However, its power is no longer final. We are living in the already but not yet, where all is now new, and yet God is continuing to restore all things. And this is what we come together to celebrate on Easter Sunday: the passion, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
[author] [author_info]Michael is the grateful husband to Sara. They are the lucky parents of their son, Grady.
Michael has earned a B.A. in Religious Studies from UT-Chattanooga, and a Master of Divinity with an emphasis in Church Planting from Asbury Theological Seminary.
Michael enjoys spending time with Sara, running, good coffee, reading, and playing with their son. Being from Memphis, he is an avid Memphis Grizzlies fan.[/author_info] [/author]
By Michael Bowman
Our creation story in Genesis tells us that God made man (Hebrew word, adam) out of the dust of the ground (Hebrew word, adamah). God makes woman the same way. And God has a great plan for their lives.
The man and woman, as they walk with God in the cool of the day, learn how to be fully alive, how to tend and care for the garden, as well as how to tend and care for one another. Being fruitful and multiplying, as God had commanded them, became a natural part of what it meant to be alive. All was well.
That is until the man and woman wanted more. There was one forbidden tree that seemed to offer the more that the man and woman were looking for. They wanted to learn good and evil for themselves…they wanted to be like God. As they reached for that forbidden fruit and took turns eating it, they did, in fact, learn new things, but it was not quite what they expected. With each bite from the forbidden fruit, the man and woman learned fear, blame, guilt, and shame. When God comes looking for them, the man and woman now hide.
Then, the man and woman are sent out from the garden by God, and they learned a new reality – death.
“…you are dust,
and to dust you shall return.” – Genesis 3:19
Or, as Eugene Peterson translates this verse, “…you started out as dirt, you’ll end up dirt.”
These words ring out from sanctuaries and chapels, homes and cathedrals, throughout the world every year on a Wednesday (known as Ash Wednesday) that begins a season known as Lent.
As it goes, people will enter into these sacred spaces and as these words are shared with them, a mixture of oil and ashes will be smeared (the church-y word is “imposed”) on their foreheads in the shape of a cross. This mark is a reminder of our mortality as humans – that one day, we will face the reality of death.
Lent has begun, and the reminder of the reality of death will ring in our ears for the next 40(ish) days.
HOW WE GOT HERE:
Advent begins the Christian year with the pregnant expectation of new life in God. At Christmas, birth has been given to new possibilities of life in God. During Epiphany, we, like naive children, or like the naive magi, dare to dream big and impossible dreams and journey after a seemingly unreachable star not knowing what may be waiting for us when we arrive.
And then we come to Lent. Lent is a season of adolescence. We have spent the last two months as childlike dreamers, but we now recognize our innocence has been lost. At Lent, we come to a full stop and take an account of who we are, or maybe who we have become. We look inward and focus on the difficult realities of ourselves, others, or the world around us. We allow ourselves to ask questions, work through doubt, and even wrestle for our identity and purpose.
Matthew tells a story in his Gospel about a ridiculous looking and sounding man named John. John baptized people, so he was known as John the Baptist…because that’s what he did (kind of like how Big Bird is named Big Bird because he’s a big bird…okay, sorry for that). Jesus, who happens to be John’s cousin, shows up one day to be baptized by John.
As Jesus comes up out of the water, God speaks and shares with everyone present exactly who Jesus is – “my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased” (Matthew 3:17). The Holy Spirit descends and rests on Jesus like a dove. Then, the Holy Spirit immediately sends Jesus out into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil (Matthew 4:1). Notice, Jesus was not led by the Spirit into public ministry – preaching, healing, etc. – but into the wilderness to be tempted.
This is meant to cause the reader to remember the story of God’s people when he rescued them from slavery in Egypt. The Book of Exodus shares with us how God’s people, the Israelites, spent 40 years in the wilderness (the desert) before God led them into the Promised Land.
In both stories, one may notice how God provides for Jesus and his people. When the devil leaves Jesus, we are told the angels minister to him. Even while the Israelites were wandering through the wilderness, God provided them with “manna” that they may continue to be fed.
LENT FOR YOU AND ME:
During Lent, we not only remember these stories, but we enter into our own wilderness – whatever it may be. Our journey in Lent begins with a reminder that we will die one day – all of us. Throughout Lent, if we allow it, we enter into the wilderness and face head-on our present temptations, the threats of evil in our world today, our biggest questions and doubts, how we may need to die to ourselves to make more room for Christ, and all of the ways in which we have misplaced our loyalties or our desires. In the wilderness, we can see more clearly the places in our lives where we need healing most, the aspects of who we are that need to be made whole, or the dead places in us and around us that need to be restored back to life.
“Lent invites us to risk the journey through death to life, to enter a wilderness filled with danger, to enter the desert where both God and the evil one dwell.” – John H. Westerhoff III
(I can’t get through one of these without quoting this guy…)
If you are like me, you may want to skip Lent completely. It might sound because Lent, as a whole, sounds too sad. Maybe, all you know about Lent is that we are supposed to give up sugar or Facebook, and you don’t want to give up either. Or, maybe, you would rather skip Lent and get to Easter, because Easter means feasts, time with family, pastel colors, and smiling faces.
The good news for us is that Lent is a season devoted to giving us room to remember just how easy it is for us to forget that we are totally dependent on God and his grace for life, itself.
Lent is not a season to be skipped over. The season is set aside to allow followers of Jesus to form new habits rooted in spiritual disciplines. It is a time where God’s people rid themselves of comforts or things of this world, to create more room for God in their lives. Really, Lent can be thought of as a time where we open our broken selves to God to allow him to make us whole.
Though Lent is 40-plus days long and can feel long, the wait is worth it. Lent ends with perhaps the biggest and greatest celebration of the entire Christian year…
Easter is coming.
Yet, to skip over Lent would be to miss the point of Easter.
Without death, there is no resurrection.
The apostle Paul said it another way – “What you sow does not come to life unless it dies…What is sown is perishable, what is raised is imperishable.” (1 Corinthians 15:36,42)
We begin Lent with ashes being smeared onto our foreheads and being told that we will die. We are adolescents searching for our identity in the dark. Yet, we end Lent with an acknowledgment of who we are and what we live for, on the cusp of our new story – we are to become witnesses and recipients of God bringing the dead back to life.
Again, most people think Lent is a time where we are supposed to give up stuff we like – social media, sugar, fatty foods, laughter, or fun (just kidding about those last two). But this would be missing the point.
This Lent, try something different.
First, go to an Ash Wednesday service and be reminded of your mortality. Then, give yourself time and space each day going forward to look inward. Enter into the wilderness, knowing that you are not going alone – the Spirit is with you. Search for how you have been trying to define yourself, for the ways in which you have done wrong, for the questions and doubts that you may have, for the areas in your life that need healing, or for the dead parts of your life that need to be brought back to life. Ask God to help you. Fast. Give yourself time for silence. Read the Scripture. Listen.
As you do this, you may begin to find broken areas of your life. Offer these areas of brokenness to God. Allow him to make these places whole.
Dare to remember that God made life from ashes, and he is going to do it again.