Friday, November 11, 2016

Finding Fellowship with Foot Baths

I do not think it was by chance that the Bible study I am currently reading brought me to Ephesians 2. I may struggle to put into words how it correlated to my thoughts today but hopefully my best efforts will prove to be at least good enough.

I have to explain that Ephesians 2 talks about God's cleansing of our sins and his vision for our lives but it is one particular part that in reading a Bible study about visionaries I did not expect to stumble upon.  For months I have been trying to find a verse that spoke of something regarding a "foreigner in a foreign land" and I guess God did not mean for me to write about it until today because no matter my best efforts did not produce a single hit for that verse.  

I have to digress a little though...My dad, being the strong man of faith that he was, always told us to make sure we read the whole chapter a verse came from because religion can take scripture out of context and twist it to any belief.  So, when I read a Bible study I usually feel led to read the entire chapter the devotional references in order to get the full context of the scripture.  Today, of all days, I found the verse for which I had been searching.  Thankfully the verse was very much about being created as God's workmanship and our paths being ordained by his hand, but in reading further he talks about a time when we were without Christ.  I want to be honest in saying that the verses that followed spoke regarding the circumcised and uncircumcised, but the current application gave me pause.  In verse twelve it says "That at that time ye were without Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers from the covenants of promise, having no hope, and without God in the world:"

Now, I have had many talks with my father, which is why I originally started this blog.  Now that my father is gone, I have the opportunity and blessing of being near my mother and having my own talks with her.  What you may not know is that my mother is an immigrant.  She has no accent, she does not speak very often of her background and by all accounts no one would ever know that she carried a greencard, a fascinating piece of paper I was always intrigued to see as a child.  Until my mother was in her 50's she was not allowed to vote because she was not a naturalized citizen.  I got to be present on that very proud day that she received her citizenship and it is a moment in my life I will never forget. See, mom grew up in the Netherlands, she was born during World War II and remembers various things about the war even as a very young child.   Her father fought in the war and, for reasons which are not clear, was placed in a concentration camp.  While he was there he was tested on and contracted tuberculosis which he would die of after returning home to his family after the war ended.  My grandmother married a man who lived in the United States and my mother traveled alone via airplane to the United States, the youngest immigrant to arrive by plane at the time.  Mom was not placed in an English as a second language classroom.  At nine years old she was integrated into the classroom and by immersing herself in the culture learned the things she needed to know.  Her mother was a master seamstress and helped support her girls by making custom clothing for people in the community.  She did masterful things like turning a dresser into several pieces of furniture and going to high end stores, examining clothing and making her own patterns out of newspaper.  She was the original meaning of 'breaking a glass ceiling',  She was an innovator, creative, hard working, desirous of independence and raising two beautiful young girls to be respectful, lovely women.  She saw America as a land of opportunity.  She saw Americans as part of the soldiers that fought to win World War II and bring her husband home. The most important thing that she did was instill in my mother a sense of respect and deep patriotism to our country.  I was blessed that my mother shared these sentiments and taught them to her children.

However, in this America, I feel like a foreigner in a foreign land, an alien in the commonwealth of our society.  Every day, despite my best efforts to ignore it, I hear of another shooting or another senseless murder that did not have to happen.  There is a mark on our land that needs cleansing, a revival of our souls that needs to occur.  It is as if "we the people" can no longer co-exist with one another.  I feel ashamed that any life is lost because of a senseless act of violence, and I want to address the problem without getting into a rhetoric about any current event because the reality is that it is a spiritual problem.  We have enveloped ourselves in a movie star lifestyle of having the most expensive car, the grandest house, the best technology, sending our kids out to be mini sports superstars, upgrading until our pocket books are so strapped that we are one disaster away from our castle crumbling down to the ground.  I feel lost.  I feel like a ship floating in the middle of an ocean and I do not know where I am.  I am not afraid to admit it. I feel like my faith sets me apart from others and makes me some kind of pariah if I say or do anything that is socially unacceptable to any other religion, creed, sexual orientation, race, income level, and the list could go on.  However, I read further in that chapter and God spoke words that we all need to remember, we need to reach out and let others know.  In verse 18 he says, "For through him we both have access by one Spirit unto the Father."  We can be one because we all have access to Christ and through him we can unite in peace, we only need to act on what God has already given us.  

Something I have seen in many of the negative interactions on the news is the picking of sides and determining that one group of people is right versus wrong.  It pains me to see that there does not seem to be anyone that wants to create a solution for any of the situations and the only people speaking up are those that have chosen their side.  This is where, today, I change my blog to Talks with my Mother.  Thank you, Jesus, for giving my momma a powerful spirit and a love for you. Today my mom said that for months now four words have been going through her head, she spoke of how those words had finally come into good use today.  It was not until I returned home and thought long and hard about her words that I truly appreciated their power.  In John 13 we read of the last supper and Jesus at one point got up from the table and washed all of the disciples' feet.  At this point he knew who would betray him, yet he washed his feet.  My mother's four words were "Jesus. Washed. Judas'. Feet."  What would happen if we began to wash the feet of our enemies?  What message would it send to those who had talked behind your back, hurt you deeply, betrayed you or to those that had done unspeakable things to you to see you drop to your knees, remove their shoes and wash their feet?  We need to learn to walk humbly with our God, because he humbled himself before the very person that was responsible for him being beaten and battered, hung on a cross and suffered a painful death.  Would any or as many of the problems exist in our world today if we humbled ourselves enough to wash the feet of our enemy, or what if we just washed the feet of someone who felt wronged by race or creed or lifestyle or religious practices?  What would happen if WE laid down OUR pride and humbled ourselves enough to perform a loving act of servitude to those we oppose?  Would it allow us all a chance to take a moment to stop and in the silence see that this hatred only creates more hatred?

In silence volumes are spoken.  Let this be a challenge that, instead of protest or hurtful words, you prostrate yourself before your opposition and silently wash their feet.


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