Look Again

Scripture: Ezekiel 37:1-14

 We all know how easy it is to use our spiritual needs as an excuse. You know – when you  find way to get out of something you don’t want to do by invoking your belief system.  

• “Oh, I couldn’t possibly clean the litter box today, it’s the Sabbath…”
• “I’d love to sign up for an over-time shift…but the love of money is the root of all evil. So, I’m going to a movie…”
• “I can’t eat broccoli. Cain was a farmer, and Abel raised animals. God took Abel’s offering and not Cain’s. Pass the bacon, please…” 

I’ve discovered, however, that you should be careful when you do that – because every once in a while God might just use your excuse against you. Such was the case today as I was kayking on the lake. It was hot, and I was getting tired more quickly than usual. So when we got to the open lake area I said to my companions, “I’m not going to cross the lake today – you go on...I’m kayaking for the sake of my soul today.” (Translation: I just want to sit in the shade, float and rest). But, while I was sitting there watching the others work their way across the lake and back, God managed to give my soul something to think about also.

The shady spot I stopped by had an old tree, its trunk struck by lightning some time ago, that was partially in the water. I looked at the water-cured top of the tree for some time, admiring the shape and curve of the weathered branches. Thinking about the tree, I said to myself “Life is so fragile. Poor tree, too bad it’s dead. Brokenness can kill you.” A breeze blew and my kayak started to turn. Paddling back to my resting spot I looked again and realized that the top of the tree in the water had been dead for some time – but there were living branches all over the bottom. That tree has been there in the water over a year (I remember seeing the split trunk last summer) and still life is thriving. My thought changed from “Brokenness can kill you” to “Wow. Life is strong! You can live through anything! Brokenness is not an end.”

Uplifted, I laughed with God about the opportunity to work on my soul. I realized I didn’t get that chance because I was too lazy to paddle across the lake. I got it because I got a chance to “look again”.

Today’s story is a famous one from the prophet Ezekiel. The dry bones that come to life is something preachers like to talk about and children love to sing about. (♫ Dem bones, dem bones, dem dry bones….♫). But today, in the spirit of the breeze that turns us all around sometimes, I want us to look at it from a different angle. Instead of singing the song, or looking at the bones, - lets take another look at Ezekiel – who needs a lesson in taking another look.

What you can’t see

Ezekiel is receiving all manner of lessons from God. By the time he gets to the valley of bones – he’s pretty worn out. You know those trainings where you look at power point slides for hours? That’s kinda what Ezekiel had been through. Learning symbol after symbol to try to teach Israel about God’s expectations and love, the prophet arrives at the valley of bones for another lesson. He’s tired, he’s overwhelmed and he’s been listening to God for a very long time. So when he looks out at the valley of some army slaughtered long ago, he’s not the most participative student.

When asked if he thinks the bones could live, he passes the question back to God saying, “Only you know…”. That’s one of those fail-safe answers – like when you were a kid taking “True and False” tests and you tried to make your T with a second prong so it could pass as an F if it needed to. Ezekiel is too tired to reason. He’s too tired to speak. He’s too tired to see. What can’t he see? He can’t see the possibility of the living army.

Fortunately the breath of God is going to turn him around like the breeze did me.

Looking at the bones, he has no idea if they can possibly come to life. They are dry – old & weathered. Those bones have been dead a long time. He doesn’t see them as an army. He doesn’t even see them as soldiers- slain in some ancient battle (with a very “Lord of the Rings” like overtone, I’m sure…). He doesn’t see them as the building blocks of life. He just sees bones. But he’s wrong. He’s not looking at a valley of bones. He’s looking at an army of people. He just doesn’t know it.

Too often when we find ourselves in a time of despair we can see only the bones scattered around us. We see the old bones of lost friends, broken promises, forsaken marriages, disconnected church families, and the dreams that never were. God asks us, “Can these things yet live?” But we are tired. We get overwhelmed. We look at our feet, shrug and reply, “Only you know, Lord.”

So, God asks us to look again. In some of those bones there are relationships that can be repaired, although they will be changed for the experience of having died and been brought back anew. In some of those bones are lessons. We can carry the authority of human experience for all we learned through the trauma and loss, and create in our heart a thriving compassion. We can look over our situation and find in that valley the building block of positive action, transformation, and inspiration. Can those bones live again? You bet. They are living now. We just need to see it.

Ezekiel still can’t see the army even after the miraculous connecting (“the shin bone connected to the leg bone…”). So…the breath of God fills the army and Ezekiel gets too look again, again. Finally God explains the meaning to Israel for this stunning display of regeneration. God the grave opener is going to bring them back. Hallelujah! But God put that part last. Why? Because God was waiting for Ezekiel to see.

If you are slipping into the valley of sorrow – whether it be through a current event in your life, the gulf coast oil disaster (I REFUSE to call that a “spill”), the frightening future, or the ghosts of heartaches past – turn around, and look again. There is something you need to see.

Life is fragile, and life is strong.

Brokenness can kill you, but brokenness is not an end.

The bones CAN live. So can your heart. So can the gulf coast.

So can you.

Look again.

Why I Love the Old Testament

I wrote this quick essay as an email to a friend who asked me why I liked the Old Testament so much. Its as true for me today as when I wrote it.

A few days ago on a note I wrote, “I’m totally in love with the Old Testament”. A friend wrote to my inbox and said “Okay, you got me on the Old Testament again. What do you like about it???” I began to write her a response, and started having so much fun, I decided to turn it into a note. So here’s the answer…

Anybody who has a spouse, partner or soul mate/soul friend can usually tell you who it was that introduced you to your future love. And usually – you think very positively or gratefully in regard to the person who introduced you. When I met God, at the awkward age of 17, it was the Old Testament who introduced us.

While trying to discover what it meant to be a Christian, I decided to start by reading the Bible. I did not read the bible in the smartest, easiest or best way. I read it like any other book – from beginning to end. I admit, I almost lost the battle a couple times in Deuteronomy and nearly jumped ship entirely in Chronicles. But – once I read the story of Esther, I was hooked.

The Old Testament is the story of the love promise between God and the people of Israel. (The New Testament is the story of the love promise between God and all of us). It shows the very nature of God, and people – and how we work out that love promise in good moments, bad times, stunning miracles and ordinary mistakes. It introduced me to stories of a whole and holy God – powerful and personal. A God who can create oceans, make donkeys talk, and take the time to wrestle all night with a stubborn traveler. There is so much in the Old Testament to instruct and inspire:

The Bravery: “As for me and my house, we shall serve the Lord” (Joshua 24:15); “If I perish, then I perish.” (Esther 4:16).

The Questions: “Suppose they ask me, 'What is his name?” (Exodus 3:13); “How long, O Lord?” (Psalm 89:46); and “Where were you when I laid the earth's foundation?” (Job 38:4).

The Rage: “And while they were in the field, Cain attacked his brother Abel and killed him.” (Genesis 4:8); Saul had a spear in his hand 11 and he hurled it, saying to himself, "I'll pin David to the wall." (1 Samuel 18:11).

The Regret: Psalm 51; “When he saw her, Jephthah tore his clothes and cried, "Oh! My daughter! (Judges 11:35); But Esau ran to meet Jacob and embraced him; he threw his arms around his neck and kissed him. And they wept. (Genesis 33:4)

The Courage to start over: “Adam lay with his wife again, and she gave birth to a son and named him Seth, saying, "God has granted me another child in place of Abel, since Cain killed him." (Genesis 4:25); Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. (Ruth 1:16)

The Acceptance of Changed Plans: Moses watching others enter the promised land but not able to go. (Deut. 34) ; David being told he cannot build the temple (2 Samuel 7)

The People in the Margins who Make the Difference: Naaman’s servants who convince him to give the miracle a chance, (2 Kings 5), Miriam who follows baby Moses to from the riverbank to see where he ends up (Exodus 2).

The Laughter: Proverbs about nagging wives, leaking faucets and dead flies; Elisha’s loser friends who accidentally poison soup and lose an axe head in a pond. (2 Kings 4); The Philistines desperately trying to ditch the ark they captured. (1 Samuel 5)

The Love: "I will heal their waywardness and love them freely, for my anger has turned away from them. (Hosea 14:4); The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love.." (Zephaniah 3:17)

The Promise:

When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you,
and when you pass through the rivers,
they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be burned;
the flames will not set you ablaze.

For I am the LORD, your God,
the Holy One of Israel, your Savior;
I give Egypt for your ransom,
Cush [a] and Seba in your stead.

Since you are precious and honored in my sight,
and because I love you,
I will give men in exchange for you,
and people in exchange for your life. (Isaiah 43)

The Old Testament lets it all hang out: saints and sinners, good ideas and bad timing, love poetry, family drama and dietary law all merge to show a picture of a God who continues to reach to wayward children – again, again, again and again.

The New Testament has some fine things – The gospels with their chronology and synoptic account; the history of Christ’s disciples and the church; letters that open so connectively and close with furtive longing, and the revelation of a future where no pain exists and no sorrow abides.

But the New Testament is so polite, so reasonable. The New Testament sets a feast of love and life before us, folds the napkins, and knows what silverware to use. The Old Testament just throws all the spaghetti against the wall – and believe me – it sticks.

That’s why I love the Old Testament.

The Message in the Cloud

A spiritual mentor once told me, “To change is a mandate from God for us and for the world.”
“That’s too bad,” I replied sadly.
“Why do you say that?” he asked confused.
“Because,” I said honestly. “I really hate change.”

Change! I hate it! I like the status quo. I like the way things are and I don’t like working to make them any different. Its possible I don’t like change because its scary – the unknown. Perhaps I hate change because it involves so much effort – like dieting and exercise. Maybe I resist it because it brings loss. For everything you get from change, you have to lose something else. Every time I learn a new fact, and old assumption is kicked to the curb.

Remember this discussion from the Simpsons:
Homer: Every time I learn something new, it pushes some old stuff out of my brain. Remember when I took that home winemaking course, and I forgot how to drive?
Marge: That’s because you were always drunk!
Homer: And how!

While Homer’s loss is understandable, mine isn’t! I don’t like letting go of things I do, know, and experience. I don’t like change! But, the bible tells us all time and time again that change is God’s desire for us. At no place in scripture is that more evident than the story of the Transfiguration.

In the liturgical year, Transfiguration Sunday is the Sunday before Lent. The scripture that goes with it tells a strange tale of Jesus on a mountain talking to Moses and Elijah and appearing to change form as he does so. For a long time, I didn’t like the story of the Transfiguration. I would read it and end up saying, “WHAT???” Up to that point the human Jesus seemed so – “real” – so “like us” and so easy to relate to on his journey. Until I hit that point – Jesus is the friend I could have as in “What a friend we have…”

Then he transfigures and I’m caught in awe once again. I’m overwhelmed in the truth of his incarnation. “He can’t be my friend…he’s the son of God! I can’t talk to HIM”. Then I find my heart locked in some sort of “transfiguration paralysis” – I’m so stunned, I can’t move!

I think Thomas Jefferson had similar problems because when he wrote his “Jeffersonian Bible”, he cut out all the miracles, supernatural items, and things that could not be rationally explained. He just couldn't deal with the unreasonable.  Among the stories that are missing from his text – the Transfiguration.

I don’t know why we get so put off by the idea of transfiguration. We do it all the time.

To transfigure is to “change appearance”. We do it by diet, exercise, or hairstyle. Others transfigure through things such as plastic surgery, body piercing or tattooing, change of style of clothing, or change of language and social settings. In fact – if you remember back to 8th grade – you transfigured almost every week as you tried out different groups, musical interests and clothing styles – looking for the true self in a sea of choices.

The thing we forget is that we are not really called to go through transfiguration, the way Jesus did – we are called to go the transformation – the way the disciples would, the way the movement Jesus started would, the way the world would.
Transformation is more than the simple change of appearance – it’s the change of being – the change of the way we are. It is an ultimate change and challenge. So how do we do it? How do we go about that process of changing into the person that God is leading us to become? The story of the Transfiguration shows us the way.

Change happens in connection with God

Jesus hadn’t just gone up the hill to check out some scenery. Jesus went for a very specific purpose: to pray. The bible tells us this prayer trip happened 8 days after Peter declared Jesus to be the Christ, and after Jesus talked about the horrible things that were to come to make his sacrifice complete. So – after having some time to reflect on this, and realizing his time on earth is coming to a close – Jesus takes his friends and goes on a hill away from the pressing crowds to pray.

No one knows what he was praying about, but into this prayer comes Moses and Elijah. Symbolically, you couldn’t pick two better Old Testament people. Moses represents the “Law” the boundaries and systems we are to follow, and Elijah represents the Prophets – the communication we have with God as we follow. Thus – standing together – Jesus, The Law and The Prophets make a complete triad of tradition and fulfillment. All three are together, and change is beginning to happen.

In our lives when we need (or sometimes even want) to make a change – it is best if we do so with that triad in mind. We need to pull away from the many voices, noises and distractions in order to get a clear vision of God's desire for the person we are to become. We require some Law. We need to have some boundaries for our change – knowing when it is enough, and when we are stepping outside of God’s plan. And, its best if we have a prophet along . Remember, biblically:

A priest is someone who talks from the people to God.
A prophet is someone who talks from God to the people.

Having someone in our life who speaks God’s love, God’s hope, and God’s direction to us is an amazing advantage as we seek to change, heal or grow. When we get so caught up in the process of our own transfiguration (look! I’m glowing!) a prophet can still cut through the interference and help us hear God clearly.

Change happens when you walk into the unknown

A number of years ago I was talking to a teenager who lived in a family where both parents were suffering from drug addiction. They were planning to go to treatment together but needed the teen to be willing to live with an aunt while they did it. I was trying to get her to agree when I asked:

“What do you think your life would be like if when you came home from school – no one was stoned, no one was craving, no one was passed out or yelling, and there weren’t strangers dropping by at all hours of the night?”

Her answer? “Weird.”

That was it – I was showing her this Utopia compared to her present life and it was so unthinkable to her, so unimaginable – that she wasn’t willing to let go of the chaos she knew to embrace a health that was unknown.

Yet, the people on the mount of transfiguration were willing to walk into the unknown – to walk into the cloud – and when they did they heard the voice of God.

It wasn’t easy to hear God at first, because Peter was yapping as usual. I think he talked when he got nervous because in the midst of this awesome sight – it is Peter who speaks up and starts talking. It’s annoying, really. Here they are witnessing a miracle and mystery, but Peter has already started jabbering and making plans. About his exuberance, Pastor Kate Hughey wrote,

“If Moses was told he couldn't see God and live, perhaps Peter should have been told that he couldn't see God and talk so much.”

Yet even as Peter is going on – they are walking into an unknown cloud. The cloud is frightening and envelops them – and then in the midst of something new and uncontrollable – they hear the voice of God. God affirms what they already know – “This is my son” and gives them a direction to keep changing – “listen to him”.

When we try something unknown – maybe a new arena, a new way of dealing with an old problem, adapting a new perspective or attitude or listening to someone in our lives who can help or encourage us – we get the affirmation and direction to keep moving forward into becoming who God made us to be.

The message they hear in the cloud is the one that makes the Transfiguration most powerful. Its God saying, “Yep. Jesus is more than your teacher or friend. He is my son. But – you can talk to him, and you can listen to him. In fact, you really should…”

The message in the cloud reminds us that change IS God's idea, and that Jesus isn’t just surreal (like the transfiguration makes it seem) but he is real and really God’s son. As we are real, and really God’s children. If that doesn’t transform us – what will?

Secure in the Sacred

Scripture: 1 Corinthians 3:16-17

16Don't you know that you yourselves are God's temple and that God's Spirit lives in you? 17If anyone destroys God's temple, God will destroy him; for God's temple is sacred, and you are that temple.

About two years ago I took the volunteer position of “creating and running the multi-media for our contemporary worship service”. Or, as I affectionately say, “slide girl.” My life as slide girl has not been without its adventures. There was my first attempt on Palm Sunday when I didn’t realize how sensitive the clicker was and went through about 4 slides every time I tried to advance to the next one (thus giving the congregation visual whiplash as I scrolled back and forth). There was the Sunday I frantically tried everything I knew to focus, only to discover 3 minutes before service that the frosted plastic lens cap was still attached. And there’s the ever challenging possibility the band has changed verses or lyrics and everything I’m showing on the screen is wrong. Not always good times….

But one of the best events of being slide girl was hearing the explanation behind the painted block of wood used to keep put the projected image at the right height for the church wall. When the previous slide technician (he was a man of much dignity and it would not be accurate or fitting to call him “Slide boy”) announced he was moving, he graciously offered to meet me at church one evening and show me everything I would need to know about the system. I had seen the white 2 x 4 emblazoned with the word “SACRED” before and was most curious. I waited patiently while he showed me the filters that needed cleaning, the focusing mechanism (must have phased off during the lens cap discussion), the clicker, etc. When he finished his long and extensive lesson he asked tiredly, “any questions?”
     Just one,” I replied. I pointed to the wooden block and said simply, “This.”
     “Oh,” he laughed. “I needed the 2 x 4 to lift the projector to the right height. But every time I would have a regular 2 x 4 here someone would take it or would borrow it and I couldn’t find it on Sunday when I needed it. So, I painted this one and put the word “sacred” on it – and no one has ever touched it since!”

In my two years as slide girl, I can verify – people have unplugged the machine, messed up the laptop, lost the clicker, BUT – no one has ever moved, taken or touched the “sacred” 2 x 4. What does that say about us? It says we have somewhere gotten the wrong message. Instead of finding the sacred – we fear it.

Fearing the Sacred

How often to do we hear about the “Fear of the Lord” – and translate it into “the fear of what is the Lord’s”? How many children do we show a pulpit bible and then tell them not to touch it? How many times has the laughter of teenagers been squashed by someone reminding them they are in “God’s House”?

Why do we fear what we label sacred (sometimes we label things literally – like the word sacristy – sacred space and sometimes we label figuratively as in “that song is sacred”)? I think we get confused from the very definition – according to Miriam-Webster sacred means

“Dedicated or set apart for the service or worship of a deity. Devoted exclusively to one service or use (as of a person or purpose).”

Set apart. That’s why we fear those things that are sacred. We feel that they are different, foreign, and away from us. If I told you my chair was “sacred” would you sit in it? No, because you would think, “wow, sacred –  that’s not for me!”.

But today’s scripture in Corinthians tells us not only is the sacred FOR us – it IS US!!! We are the children of God, the temple of God and we are sacred in God’s sight. Imagine for a moment what the world would be like – if we realized we are sacred, and other people are too. Imagine.

Understanding that concept of sacredness through a different lens – a lens that says “touch me, know me, be me” instead of “RUN AWAY, I’m SACRED” (like a biohazard sticker might), what are we to know?

The Sacred Should be Recognized

When Moses is approaching the burning bush a voice came from heaven and said, “OH MY GOSH -- DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT WALKING HERE!! GET OFF THE GROUND, ITS HOLY!!!!”

No, wait…that’ s not right…actually the bible says that God said, ‘“Shal Naalechah me'al raglecha, ki hamakom asher atah omed, admat kodesh hu” – or in English - "Take off your shoes from your feet, for the place wherein you stand is holy ground."

God doesn’t want Moses to run away (although God cautions him, probably because of the fact a bush was on fire, not to come any closer!), and God does not chide Moses for approaching or standing in a sacred place. Instead, God just wants to make sure Moses recognizes the ground he is standing on is holy ground.

The purpose of the sacred isn’t to repel us, but to inspire us and to strip away the coating of this world. Rabbi Melanie Aron lists two possible reasons why Moses needed to remove his shoes to be on holy ground. One was that it leaves the trappings of the world outside. All the muck and dust for the world is left behind so the person stands fresh before God. The other was that when your shoes are off – you have to pay more attention. With shoes, pebbles, twigs and thorns are nothing - you can just walk on them – but without shoes you are vulnerable so you must step carefully and pay attention to what you’re doing. That’s what God wants us to be doing when we approach our creator – pay attention.

Whatever the reason – purity or purpose or both – it is clear that God wants us to recognize when we are on sacred ground or dealing with a sacred person. Sacred people? Look back at Corinthians – that means US. We need to treat each other with the recognition of the sacredness we all have as the temple of God’s presence. Your friends are sacred, your clients are sacred, your waiter, your mechanic, your massage therapist, your banker, your neighbor: sacred. Do you treat them that way? If not, when approaching them – particularly someone difficult to deal with – take off your mental/emotional hard-soled shoes – and walk carefully among them.

I know, I know…the temptation is to say – “If I walked around all day regarding every one as sacred and every place as holy ground – I’d never go anywhere and I’d never talk to anyone!” But the truth – as Moses tells us, as Corinthians tells us and as the generosity-natured Holy Spirit tells us – is that if we walked around recognizing the sacred people and places around us – we would walk in heaven on earth, and we would talk so much more to God.

So the next time you see a painted 2 x 4, or a person living on the street, or a student riding a bike on the side of the road, or a cranky older patron of Ukrops taking forever to pay and causing the line to slow down – instead of raising the defenses, or running for the hills – take a deep breath, and take off your shoes. They're sacred.

From Pleasantville to Haiti

Scripture: Matthew 23 

One of my favorite movies is “Pleasantville”. It’s a very well done film both in its use of color, and metaphor. The story follows Toby Maguire (pre-spider-man) and Reese Witherspoon as modern teenagers who end up being transported into a black and white TV show (very similar to any 50’s family show- Donna Reed, Andy Griffith, etc) where they believe life will be simpler.

Everything in Pleasantville is perfect. The fire department only rescues cats, because there are no fires. The school kids all sit up and pay attention. The basketball team never misses the hoop. Men go to work, and women vacuum in pearls before making huge amounts of food. Families sit down and talk over dinner. Wow.

However, our protagonists soon discover the black and white world of Pleasantville is not as perfect as it should be. The books in the library don’t have any words in them. The role of art in a colorless world is small and unnecessary, and the road out of town goes nowhere. Perfection, it seems, lacks passion.

As the teens encounter the ideal world of Pleasantville – they bring their own knowledge, passions and experiences to the town. Introducing Pleasantville’s residents to everything from self-esteem to sexuality, soon color begins appearing all over. Books now tell stories (not all of them pleasant) and art is powerful and provocative. Pleasantville becomes chaotic, divided, messy and very much alive. It’s no longer perfect, but its real.

The encounters Jesus has with the Pharisees are very much like Pleasantville. The temple administration had everything under control. People knew their roles and had their place in the temple secured through status and lineage. Lepers knew to keep away, and officials knew who to go to if they needed something done. The Sabbath had its purpose, and its limits. The faithful stayed in line and the blind stayed blind.

And then…along comes a Rabbi with the ability to hear and to heal (even on the Sabbath). Along comes a Rabbi who brings with him a messy group of followers and introduces everything from dining with tax collectors to raising the dead into the midst of the order. Suddenly the temple was abuzz with colorful people, healed sinners and angry authorities who don’t like being questioned.

In Matthew 23:27 – the Seven Woes – Jesus spells it out.

“Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of dead men’s bones and everything unclean. In the same way, on the outside you appear to people as righteous but on the inside you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness.”

Jesus points out that turning the Temple – the community of God – into a black and white (or white-washed) museum is not what God intended for people to do in the world. Our world is full of messy situations, colorful people and vibrant challenge. It was the great desire of God for the church to be in that world – changing, healing and helping.

Jesus angered the Pharisees because he upset the order, and he showed without question the disordered, creative, techno-colored spectrum of existence – all of which God inhabits.

This week as we have watched the island nation of Haiti struggle with the aftermath of devastating earthquakes the people of God are still struggling to deal with the reality of it all. As people stand around the rim of this tragedy and say “Where was God during this? How could God let this happen?” we are showing our own tendency to want the simple black and white world to come back.

We want a world where good things happen to good people and bad things only happen to bad people. Certainly folks like Pat Robertson who want to blame Haiti (and some kind of devil-pact) for this disaster are trying to push this hard-to-understand reality into a box that is easier to get a handle on: “Haiti was destroyed because it was bad”. But Haiti is not to blame for the fact earthquakes (a natural design to release pressure and prevent the earth from exploding) happened.

We want a world where the easiest explanation is the right one. “It was God’s will” many will say – as if that takes away pain or answers our many questions. With a swipe of the “God’s Will Credit Card” we can make our offering and walk away without suffering pain or sadness. However, one look at the people of Haiti, and all they have lost, would tell you this certainly is not the desire of a loving God. I am reminded of the earthquake that Elijah experienced and the clearly written understanding that “God was not in the earthquake”. (1 Kings 19).

So if the simple, black and white answers don’t work for us anymore, what does? Where IS God? God is digging people out of the rubble, God is holding the grieving, God is boxing up food and blankets, God is inspiring soldiers, missionaries, neighbors and workers to go forward. God is putting on someone’s bandage. God is finding someone’s child. God is in the very midst of the rubble – where the colors of blood, water, courage, and faith are flowing all over the simple realities.

As Christian people, let us not retreat into our whitewashed tombs and long for simpler, happy days devoid of reality. Let’s be the likeness of God and jump into the colors that make up our world. Let’s bring our expertise, our gifts, and our passion into the rubble of the Caribbean, the reality of Richmond and to our very dinner table. From Hull Street to Haiti – let’s stop hiding behind how we want it to be… and let us bring about messy, amazing, colorful salvation through living the good news of the message of Christ.

Praying, working and reckoning with disasters like the one in Haiti make us stronger in our understanding and relationship with God. Ask hard questions and work through the answers. Like the newly colored Pleasantville- our faith may not be perfect anymore. But, it is real.