I.I.W.K.O.T.W.

Jess: Here we are again, writing about something that is way more complicated than we probably understand, but it’s relevant and needs to be discussed.

Syria. One of those countries that a whole lot of Americans probably never heard of before the last few weeks. Now it’s all over the news. Admittedly, Wes and I don’t get the newspaper or watch the news, but we do keep up with things online. Honestly, I prefer the way things are presented online, and it’s easier to catch up on while I’m feeding James. 
Anyway, if you’re unsure of anything we’re talking about, go here. There are several links after the article that can give you even more information on Syria and the current situation.


I don’t like war. I don’t like knowing that there is war going on in countries all over the world as I’m writing this. I don’t like the idea of people killing other people. I don’t like that they do it to make a point, to punish someone, to get their way, or even out of seemingly protecting others. I really don’t like the idea that there are people who truly enjoy doing so. As someone who wants to believe that people have the capacity for good, it is very difficult for me to know that there are individuals and groups who will kills thousands of people just to get their way. 

For me, war seems like a macrocosm of a fight between two children. Each side knows what they want, and maybe they even tried to explain it rationally at some point. Eventually, however, they are just throwing things, calling names, taking what was not theirs to begin with, and justifying it all by thinking that the other person started the whole mess. No one is innocent in war. Rarely is anyone completely justified. And yet it seems to be a perpetual part of the human condition. 

I heard about President Obama’s leaning toward military action and immediately rejected the idea. Although military action seems to be unceasing in the US, we still think that we are called to be the worlds’ police force. And yet Martin Luther says that there is a time and place to take action on behalf of your brother or sister, even when it is inappropriate to take action on one’s own account. How do we know what is the right time? How do we know what is the right force? Even for someone who hates war, I kind of understand the idea of sending some missiles into hopefully unoccupied areas in retaliation for Assad using chemical weapons. But how do we know that these places will be empty? How do we know they won’t be full of something that will destroy people, animals, and land for miles? How do we know Assad won’t retaliate?


At some point, we have to say “enough!” We are called to care for the other, for the earth and all created things. We have done a terrible job of that, but this just shows our broken nature. I don’t have the answer to this, but I will continue praying for Syrians, our president, and other leaders around the world as yet another part of God’s creation is destroyed by human hands. 

Wes: Once again we find ourselves talking about something that we cannot solve. I don't know about y'all, but I often find myself daydreaming about "if I were king of the world." If I were king of the world, things would be a lot different. Healthcare would be completely funded by the government as a means of eradicating disease. I.I.W.K.O.T.W., education would be as well: as long as the student was maintaining a certain level of achievement, each person could earn up to a doctorate in whatever field they chose. That way, I.I.W.K.O.T.W., jobs would be secured based on an individual's merit and level of comprehension, not based on how much money they had or could obtain. I.I.W.K.O.T.W., everybody (even myself) would be by law expected to know or learn at least three languages.


And I.I.W.K.O.T.W., there would be no war. 


If all of that sounds good, someone should start working on installing me. I have a few other ideas as well. 


But Syria. 


Man it sucks, knowing that around the world, there are people killing other people. There are days when I cannot fathom this. It does not compute with my life experience (thanks be to God), and I just don't understand it. Other days, it seems to be almost common--as if I'm desensitized from it. Of course it happens; it's a fact of life. 


And with Syria, I gotta tell you, the more I read about it, the more and more I worry about how it will finally end. That first Washington Post article that Jess hyperlinked talks about Russia and Iran's part in all of this: that's scary! The idea that two countries have a stake in allowing this civil war to continue because of arms trade and bad feelings toward surrounding countries is ridiculous. Now China has stood up and said they will have no part in it, the UK has taken a hands-off stance, and everyone else is either joining them or staying quiet. 


Now, part of me says that even if everyone else turns their back on injustice, that doesn't mean we do the same. People are dying, and their government is supposedly (since it was never confirmed) using world-banned weapons. Someone needs to do something. 


But all of me shouts that trying to quell violence with more violence doesn't work, that escalation is not the answer. Not now. Not ever. 


My dad was sent overseas for three different tours of duty: two to Iraq and one to Afghanistan. When it comes to government and the military, he is my personal go-to information person. We don't always agree on everything, but I value his thoughts and opinions more than any other on these sorts of topics. When I asked him what he would do with this conflict if he were king of the world, he said he'd take out Bashar al-Assad. No bombs. No civilian casualties. Just one strike team to go in and clean up this mess. 


Maybe that's the answer. I don't know. All I know is that I have been called to take the hard line on issues like this and preach peace. No exceptions. No rationalizing. Peace. Non-violent, self-sacrificing, even. In cases like this, maybe that means the U.S. showing its muscle by brow-beating everyone into a world-wide trade embargo against the Syrian government until al-Assad steps down. But you know, even that would most likely meant not only continued bloodshed for the foreseeable future, but also starvation and death due to lack of resources as well.


Which would mean, as always, the people who are going to lose the most in this war are the truly innocent, on neither the side of the government nor the rebels. The people who are going to lose the most are the least of these, those very people to whom Christ called us to minister. 


Damn. This is hard. If only I were king of the world...

Shabbat!

Jess: Wes gave a pretty decent sermon on the Sabbath this last Sunday. It really got me thinking about how we treat the Sabbath day. Then it got me thinking—what IS the Sabbath?

What is the day of rest that we have after seven days of work? I think for many people, this is Saturday. They work Monday-Friday and perhaps have had activities on Sunday. For others, maybe Sunday is the Sabbath. I know that for awhile, my mom and Chris were attending Saturday night services because that gave them all of Sunday to be in rest.

For Wes and I, at least for this coming year, Thursday will be our Sabbath. Although I firmly believe that the day in which we come together to worship can be Sabbath, that is just not the case for pastors. Sunday is a workday—perhaps the biggest workday of all. It is the day toward which the rest of the week looks, and the day on which much of the work done throughout that week culminates. So we will be observing our Sabbath on Thursdays.

What does Sabbath mean for us today, though? There are many, many laws and regulations regarding the Sabbath in Jewish law and history. We even have some perceived laws regarding Sundays in Christianity today. I know my family always went out to eat on Sunday afternoons. By the time we got out of church and into “regular” clothes, no one wanted to think about cooking. So part of our restfulness included not cooking for ourselves—we also usually had leftovers for dinner. Yet our Sabbath meant that someone else was not having a Sabbath. Part of God’s law says, “On [the Sabbath], you shall not do any work, neither you, nor your son or daughter, nor your manservant or maidservant, nor your animals, nor the alien within your gates.” God goes on to say that God rested, and so should we.

One of my biggest struggles with Sabbath is determining what constitutes Sabbath for myself and my family. If even the resident alien is not supposed to work, should I go to Starbucks, forcing this stranger to make coffee for me? Yet by not going to Starbucks, I don’t change the fact that it is open.  If my Sabbath day continues to be Thursday for years, but James needs help with homework, does that mean that  I cannot help him? Is that too much work?

It is easy to get bogged down by the rules of Sabbath—whether those that God clearly states or those we create for our own sake. But the purpose of Sabbath is clear: we are called to break from our routine of work as God did. Resting rejuvenates us, so Sabbath is about doing that which accomplishes this. For an introvert, that might mean reading a book alone. For Wes and I, who are apart all week, it might mean a date—or time spent with James. For the manual laborer, it means resting his or her hands. For the person who sits inside all day, maybe it means spending time in nature.

The point is, no matter what our routine, God calls us to take a break from it each week. This is for our own good, for the sake of our relationship with God, and for the sake of others. Wes and I will continue to wrestle with what Sabbath means for us throughout this year and beyond, and we invite you to share your struggles and joys as well!

Wes: Did everyone see that Jess said I gave a decent sermon? Let the record show. 

If anyone would like to see that sermon, it--along with all of my other sermons at KUMC!--can be found on my other blog, here. I don't actually know if anyone watches them. Since I started sharing the video clip, the few and far between comments that I used to get altogether disappeared. But, if you want to check it out, there it is. 

So Sabbath for me is a weird time. I feel like I have to work to rest, which doesn't make any sense. I totally get the idea that we have to prepare for a full day of rest--such as making sure meals are planned out (if you're into that) and all the work that might need to be done is done the day before--but that's different than having to actively work at not working or breaking out of your regular routine. 

One of the ways we've tried as a family to do this is to limit our electronics usage on our Sabbath day. This seems to be harder for me than it is for Jess. I honestly don't feel super attached to Facebook, and I don't feel the need to reply immediately every time I receive a text, but I do enjoy being connected with others and being able to be in constant dialogue with my friends. It's one of the ways that I maintain my extrovertivity. (Yes, I made up a word. Go with it). So it's harder for me to put my phone away and not think about it. This is the part of Sabbath that takes some work on my part. 

Other aspects of Sabbath are not as taxing. One of the things that has been rather nice about our Sabbaths this summer is that I've used many of them to complete projects around the house. Now, this might sound weird, as many (even myself) consider this to be working, but in a very real way, these projects--like building a bookshelf for James and fixing the backyard fence--allow me to spend some time working my hands and making something for the world to see, which is something that my day-to-day job rarely allows. 

My brother, Tomas, didn't really understand this when I told him about it. He works full-time for a re-modeling company, putting up sheet rock and wall paper. He works with his hands on a daily basis. So when I told him that this kind of activity is rewarding and rejuvenating for me, it didn't make sense. For him, taking a day to read a good book or spend around people doing nothing is a wonderful break from routine, whereas I spend most of my week reading in preparation for preaching/teaching and in community with others. This is time well spent for me, and I absolutely love it, but a Sabbath full of the same type of activity as any other day is not really a Sabbath. 

Well, Jess gave a wonderful little lesson on what the Sabbath is. I just spouted out words about it for a little while. I hope at least part of this is edifying for you and helps you in your own walk as you try to live out God's commandment to honor the Sabbath and keep it holy. 

For now, though, you stay classy, World Wide Web!

-wes and jess

Mommy Wars: Jessica Strike Back

Wes: So, I'm not going to be saying much in this post, which is why I am writing first. The reason is simple: when it comes to issues like this, my place is to give support, listen when she needs to talk/vent/scream, and help out in any way that I can. All of that was to say, this is an extremely important issue, and I hope y'all understand the pain, emotion, and deep love for James behind this post. And you know what, it's not just for James. This is a much bigger issue. Like, global, in how we understand, talk about, and support Mothers and Fathers in every society who are working to ensure the future of humanity. 

Jess: So there is this thing called the "Mommy Wars." These battles can be about parents who feel inadequate because they don't throw their child a perfectly planned over-the-top party for every birthday, Valentine's Day, St. Patrick's Day, half birthday, etc. Others are about women comparing how quickly they returned to their "pre-baby body," a myth in itself since your body fundamentally changes (for example, I now have wider hips, which isn't something that can just be dieted and exercised away). Some of these battles are over how to properly move your child from bottle/breast to solid foods. And these are just the arguments going on about having babies and young children. I can't imagine what happens in elementary school, and I'm not ready to even think about it.

The point is, parents, who are doing arguably the hardest job in the world, are also having to compete with one another about which way is best. Which is crap. Truly honest pregnancy and baby-raising books talk about the range of "normal" in any baby's behavior, development, habits, etc. Each one of these children is an individual, a special human being with its own personality that shows in certain ways from birth. My mom likes to tell me that even as an infant, I liked being independent--I didn't really want to be held unless I was being fed. My brother was the exact opposite. How can we possibly say that one way of raising a child is fundamentally better than another? More importantly, even if one thing really IS better than the other, shouldn't we be supporting each other as parents, rather than competing? The saying goes that it takes a whole village to raise a child--so what happens when that whole "village" is locked in heated battle after heated battle?

I chose to write this post because I have spent the entirety of James' small life locked in what may be the harshest of these battles: breastfeeding vs. bottle feeding. After reading all of the pregnancy and birth books, I naturally turned to what I would do with this small human when he finally arrived. Wes and I spent very little time discussing this, because it just seemed to make sense that I would breastfeed at least until James was six months old. Why would we pay hundreds of dollars during his first year of life when I could feed him for free? Naturally? So we read the right books, we made use of the lactation consultants at the hospital and even called them after we left. 

But James wasn't gaining weight. Rather, our little guy, who was just barely over six pounds to begin with, had dropped down to only 5 by his eighth day of life. The verdict came down: we would have to supplement with formula while I pumped for awhile or he would be in grave danger of dehydration, and possibly brain damage if it went on too long. I cried while we talked to the doctor, but resolved to pump until we could go back to breastfeeding. 

That night, James, who wouldn't drink a full bottle, had gotten so lethargic that we took him to the hospital, where he stayed for the next three days. Breastfeeding almost killed my baby. He was so dehydrated that the nurses couldn't draw blood at first. Wes and I were sent to a room to wait while the staff did a spinal tap--through which we could hear James screaming through two closed doors. They gave me a pump and we discovered the problem--I had supply issues. For the next three weeks, I pumped every two to three hours, took several over the counter supplements as well as prescription medication, literally cried over drops of spilled milk and more until my midwife final told me that I was killing myself for something that would never happen. 

And for the last seven months, I have felt guilty every day. I've felt like a failure, like I'm not a good enough mom for James. The container of formula constantly reminds me that "breastfeeding is best." Other mothers breastfeed for years with no problems. Other mothers judge me for "choosing" to formula feed. Other mothers are berated for breastfeeding their children in public, while I am berated for not giving my child the best nutrition possible. Only in the last few weeks have I started to feel better, mostly because of sites like this and awesome men like this.

This is ridiculous. This has to stop. 

Only when parents stop the wars and start working together for better education and support will our children be able to be raised by a village. Only then can those who breastfeed feel comfortable breastfeeding in public--something that is natural and beautiful, a wonderful way for mother and child to bond. Only then can those who formula feed feel safe in pulling out their bottles in public, proudly showing the world that they, too, are providing the nutrition their child needs--just in a different way. Only then can fragile, hormone-ridden, emotional, post-birth women enjoy the time they have with their babies who grow up all too fast, no matter what they eat. Maybe then we can start looking around at classrooms full of children and realize that it is the care with which a parent feeds his or her child (or does any other activity with that child) that matters way more than the method. 

(Here is a great link to people who are trying to combat this issue).

The Kyle Trail: Where Nobody Dies of Cholera, and You Don't Have to Ford Any Rivers

Jess: We're starting to get settled here in Kyle, and I for one am enjoying this new journey in our life. I can't speak for Wes, but I'm pretty sure he feels the same way. Unlike our move to New Jersey, there has been more joy than sadness, although the sadness certainly exists, too. We definitely miss our friends from New Jersey, but it has been so nice to move back into our "old" circle of friends.

I think that in situations like this, it is really easy to build up a fantasy that has no bearing on reality. I'm not going to lie, as much as I was excited about coming back to Texas, I was also pretty nervous. Of course there were the normal moving jitters: what if we forget something, what if our stuff gets lost, what if something goes wrong... We also had some big concerns about going two months without either one of us earning a paycheck, and now we still have about two more before we're both working again. That's a pretty big strain on the savings account.

My biggest worry, however, was that we would come back to Texas and it wouldn't be as great as we had built it up to be. I mean, we're not back where we met and got married. It's not that we're far, but it's not like even moving right back to TLU would have solved this concern. Our friends are scattered, we all have jobs, everyone is at a very different point of their lives than when we all hung out together in college and the little bit afterward. What if this new arrangement fell short of our expectations? What if we were lonely in Texas just like we were lonely in New Jersey at first?

And yet, despite all of my concerns, things are coming together. We didn't lose anything on the way (except maybe one of James' cloth diapers, which could still turn up), all of our stuff made it safely to the house and we're nice and settled, and nothing went wrong along the way--no missed planes, no flat tires, no cats running away at the hotels. The people at Kyle UMC are wonderful, and I'm sad to think of not being with them on a weekly basis once September comes around. The larger Kyle community is great, we can walk around a lot, we've found what I think is going to be our favorite fallback restaurant, and there is PIE! 

Yes, things are different with our friends. Most of us are married now, Wes and I have a kid, everyone is older and most everyone is working a full-time job. We can't just get together randomly at 3 p.m. and do nothing. But we CAN go float the river on a day off, play games into the night, and, most importantly SEE each other on a regular basis. As our friend Ryan pointed out, we can make plans for next week. We don't have to talk about what we'll do four months from now--although that is also an option. We're here to stay. If we miss seeing someone today, we don't miss our chance for the next half year. James is going to grow up among a wonderful group of people that we love. And that's just as awesome as I always hoped. 

Wes: We are settlers, but luckily for us we do not have to travel in a covered wagon, we can carry all of the meat from our hunting ventures back with us, and we are not made of giant pixels that make it near impossible to distinguish from males and females. 

Basically, this trail is crazy better than our childhood game, Oregon Trail. 

We are settlers in a magnificent, magical place called Kyle, which truly is an interesting place. This city, which is one of the ten fastest-growing communities in Texas, seems to be really comprised of a number of small development communities that for the most part seem to be pretty self-contained. They all come together in near-lego fashion to create this town just South of Austin on the I-35 corridor. 

And we're smack in the middle of it. I couldn't be more excited. 

Jess talked a lot about what our combined worries/fears were in moving back down. I thought I'd talk a little bit about something that surprised us, and not in a good way. 

We've found that it's not as easy to be a Dad of a baby in public in Texas as it is in New Jersey.

It might sound a little weird, but it's true. In the six months of James' life spent up in the Great White Northeast--otherwise known as Southern Canada, which is weird because there are whole states in between New Jersey and Canada... Also no one calls it that but me...

Sorry. I got off track. In the six months of James' life spent up in New Jersey, there was only one public establishment that we visited that did not have a changing table in the men's room. It might have been bent, broken, or missing straps, but it was there and semi-usable. 

In Texas, though, we've already encountered a number of places where this is the case, much to our chagrin. In both restaurants and stores, there have been too many times that I have tried to take James into the bathroom to change his diaper and found out that I would have to use the floor to complete my endeavor. So, I've had to bring him back out and give him to Jessica, who is much more annoyed about this than I am because she gets stuck with diaper duty (please, please tell me you caught that pun) more often than not. 

I've been thinking a lot about the single dads out there, and how frustrating it must be for them. 

Come on, Texas. I firmly believe that you are the greatest nation-state in the world. Step up your game. 

Well, that's all for now. Sorry for the long wait. We'll get better again at writing more consistently. It is, once again, all my fault. For now, though, You Stay Classy, World Wide Web!

-jess y wes

Catchin' Up

Wes and Jess:

Sorry to those of you who are avid followers (hardy har har). We've been super busy the last month with moving, and we just didn't have time to write--even when we thought about it we had to pack instead. Anyway, we decided that the best way to get back on track was to write a quick list of some things we're going to miss about New Jersey now that we're in Texas. We did a lot of complaining about living there, but there were definitely some great things about NJ and the surrounding area:

• Diners: NJ has some of the best diners ever. Every bit of the food is awesome and there is so much you can eat it for at least two meals afterward, too. 
• The shore: Not the stupid TV show. The real Jersey shore is pretty awesome. The water is cool and refreshing all summer long, and there are many beaches from which you can look at NYC. 
• Pizza: Enough said. 
• Other states: We love Texas, don't get us wrong, but it was super cool to drive an hour and be in another state. We could visit our friends Tim and Brittany, 2-3 states away, and only be in the car for three hours. Three hours in Texas gets us to a different part of Texas.
• Bagels: Fresh-baked bagels and coffee, especially on early mornings, are freaking fantastic. We're definitely going to miss having more options than Panera.
• History: Texas has a pretty cool history, but everything in NJ has a story (or so it seems). In downtown Crosswicks, the Friends' Meeting House had a  cannonball lodged in an outer wall. Many of the houses and other buildings are really old, some as old--or older-- as this country. People's families have lived there for centuries. 
• Our first home: Both our apartment at Princeton and our parsonage in Crosswicks had their flaws, but these were our first homes together as a married couple and a family. So much happened inside those walls and it is strange to me that James will never remember what his first home was like. 
• Ocean City Youth Weekend: The big gathering of youth in the New Jersey Conference that happened at the shore each September. We had a blast there all three years, with the youth from Wes' congregations as well as from all over the state. Texas is definitely not lacking in youth events, but none are like this one!
• Jersey produce: The fresh food in NJ is really fantastic. We'll miss Ellis corn, Russo's honey and tomatoes, the random farm stands everywhere, fresh-picked apples and asparagus, and so much more. I guess we'll just have to work in the garden at our new house!
• The people: We made some pretty good friends while we were in NJ, and it's going to be rough to have to keep in contact with them long distance only. Especially...
• Robert, Lindsey, and Brian: Our best friends in NJ, who made living there bearable for the last three years. We got together every other week at least for the last few years, we had babies just a few months apart, and we just had a wonderful time with them. Out of everything we miss about New Jersey, the sadness of leaving them will definitely last the longest and hurt the most. 

Although we missed Texas, our friends, our family, and our life here while we did this stint in New Jersey, we're definitely going to miss some things from living up there. We certainly left a piece of our hearts up north when we left in a couple of weeks!

You stay classy, World Wide Web!

We'll Put a Boot in Your... (This Blog is Rated PG for Language)

Jess: Well, as many people have pointed out, that last week was quite a crap-fest. If you don't mind the language, The Onion had a great commentary on it. 

As I was listening to the news on the way into school today, there was a story about a “suspicious-looking man in camo” at Independence Plaza that resulted in the place being shut down and sniffed by bomb dogs for awhile. This immediately made me nervous about what is going to be happening in our nation for the next weeks and months. Fear and anger are two very powerful emotions, and I don’t think we know how to handle them very well.

Fear can be a great motivator. We talk about “fight or flight” all the time. When we’re scared about something, it causes us to take action—to protect ourselves by fleeing or to fight against that which we fear. Healthy fear causes us to do all kinds of intelligent things: we lock the doors of our houses and cars for fear of those who might wish us harm; we set aside some “rainy day” money for fear that we might lose our livelihood unexpectedly; we teach our children not to talk to strangers for fear that something terrible will happen. These are all healthy uses of fear—we can keep the fear in check through our proactive response.

But then there is the flipside of fear. There is the debilitating, heart-stopping, terrifying fear that stops us from living our lives in a normal way. This is the fear that makes parents keep their kids home from school so that they won’t run into anything negative, the kind of fear that keeps us clinging to the guns we think will keep us safe, the fear that makes us see danger lurking everywhere. This is the kind of fear that inhibits us, and the only way I have found to get past this is to pray—most of the time through tears.

The other emotion that comes out during times like this last week is anger. And again, there are two kinds of anger. First, there is the anger that comes at seeing innocent people die because of the actions of one or many others. It makes us say things like Toby Keith after 9/11: “We’ll put a boot in your ass, it’s the American way.” I know that many people, myself included, felt this way. But if we have acted upon this anger, after it recedes we are left seeing ourselves as the attackers. We end up in 12 year wars that are impossible to withdraw from. We find ourselves as individuals attacking people who look like the attackers. And there is great regret and even more destruction. This is also the anger that drove the media to cover the events in Boston for almost 24 straight hours, ignoring the other events throughout the nation and world. It's how the events in West fell to the back burner (if that)--there was no one to blame, no one in whose ass we could put our boot.

Then there is the righteous anger. Some might say the first kind falls into this category, but I see that as more “gut-reaction anger.” This second kind is different. Righteous anger sees the attackers, the perpetrators, as people—misguided people but people nonetheless. Righteous anger is what can lead us to ask for mercy for those people. It can lead us to even press for reform in our laws, our education system, our mental health awareness and treatment. It is the kind of anger that said after 9/11, “We need more security in our airports.” This is the same kind of anger that leads us to help those in need when we hear how many people in this world are without daily sustenance.

Rob Bell has a great Nooma called Store about anger that talks about righteous anger—this anger directs itself not at the one or two people who do bad things but toward the systems that lead them to those conclusions. It looks not for retribution but restoration. It is the kind of anger Jesus had when he saw the hungry, the sick, and the lonely being mistreated. It leads us to change, not to retaliation and revenge. This is the anger I have right now…the anger that makes me want to make the world a safer place for my son. The anger that says, “What about all those people in West who have been ignored because of something that happened in another part of the country?” The anger that makes me question the mass media’s coverage of a manhunt in Boston, but neglects to talk about the millions of people who will die this year due to lack of clean water or proper nutrition or terrorist attacks in their own nations. This anger does something—this is the anger that changes the world for the better.

Wes: So, this is going to be a small taste of what I talked about in my churches on Sunday, because I feel that it is extremely important to point out, and not so easy to swallow. 

Jesus called us to love our enemies.
 Those are seven words that are easy to hear during easy times, and easy to pass over when reading the Sermon on the Mount, but they can be cutting when we hear them after a horrific event like what happened in Boston this past week. They can be near-impossible to hear when men and women commit heinous acts that forever change our lives and the lives of those around us. They can be the absolute last thing we want to hear when our rage induces thoughts of vengeance and retribution that cloud any other emotion and reaction. 

But they are words we are called to follow, to live out. 

That means that German Christians during World War II was called to love Hitler. 

That means that the Father whose daughter was raped and killed is called to love her murderer. 

That means that the church in the United States of America was called to love Bin Laden and the men who crashed airplanes full of people into the Twin Towers and the Pentagon. 

And that means that today we are called to love the individuals--both deceased and in custody--who set off explosive devices at the finish line of the Boston Marathon. 

And you know what, this is ridiculously hard. Because at the same time that we are called to be a people of justice who stand up for what is right and who lift up the oppressed and downtrodden, we are called to love the very people doing the wrong, doing the oppressing, doing the downtrodding. We don't have to sit idly by while evil runs rampant, but we are also not supposed to enact violence against violence or rejoice when it is done on our behalf. 

In other words, the American way might be to "put a boot in their ass," but the Christian way is to love them through their actions, to see them as people like us--sinners desperately in need of grace. 

And this is hard. I have to tell you, when I see violence like I saw this past week, it breaks my heart. I don't just get sad, or get down about the state of humanity. I get pissed off. I get angry. It is not right. People who would hurt others should be stopped. 

I think about what it might be like if it had been one of my friends who was killed... one of my family members... my wife... 

What if James had been the little boy who died in the blast?

Would I want justice? Absolutely. Would every bone in my body be crying out for the blood of the evil-doers? You know it. Would I want to see them face the same fate as those they so mercilessly killed? Yep. But I am called to something else. I am called to love. It is sometimes very, very hard, but that does not change the fact that Christ still calls me to that love. 

So, I guess I'd ask that you join me in this struggle between justice and love, the struggle to which all Christians are called. Christ called us to love our enemies, and pray for those who persecute us. Let's pray for the Boston bombers, that God would show them the grace, mercy, and love which God has sent to us in droves. 

That's all for now. Hopefully, this week will be better. Not just here in the USA, but all around the world. We could all use an easy week. 

-wes and jess

Pope Schmope? NOPE!

Jess: You may have deduced by now (good grief, I hope) that neither Wes nor I is Roman Catholic. Therefore, it might seem silly for us to be talking about the new Pope. Yet here we are. 

As a Protestant, the Pope usually doesn't really come into my realm of thinking. But there is something to be said about what the Pope stands for beyond Roman Catholicism. The Pope, for all intents and purposes, is the face of Christianity to much of the world. There are many people who do not understand the various denominations and strands of Christian thought. What they know is that the guy in the funny hat is the leader of the Christians. So what Pope Francis I says and does speaks volumes about the rest of us, at least as far as much of the world is concerned. 

I for one am excited to see where the Pope will take the Roman Catholic church over the next months and years. There are many issues surrounding this denomination, as with the rest of the Christian church. There are scandals, issues of modernity, the fact that a pope emeritus exists for the first time in 600 years, and much more with which Pope Francis will have to struggle. And the whole world will be watching him, many assuming that he IS Christianity.

I am also fascinated by the fact that Pope Francis is the first of many things. He is the first Jesuit, which is definitely an interesting piece of Roman Catholicism. He is the first non-European pope since back in the day when many came from Africa. He is the first Latin American pope, and the first to have the name Francis. I am most interested to see how his Argentinian roots affect his papacy. Latin America is a very different place from the United States or Europe, and I would hope that this would have a profound affect on Pope Francis' concerns--especially for the poor of the world. The fact that he chose the name Francis, after Francis of Assisi, who had great concern for the poor, bodes well. Since caring for the poor is a great part of being Christian, I believe this should be a concern of all Christians, especially our leaders. I was interested to find out that, as a cardinal, he did not live in the special residence usually reserved for men of that status. 

This is definitely a new point in Roman Catholic church, as well as throughout all of Christianity. I am interested to see what happens with Pope Francis leading the world's Roman Catholics, and I pray for his ministry, as well as all of our brothers and sisters throughout the world.

Wes: When I was growing up, my dad called the bishop of our conference the Pope-on-a-Rope. Although this was never a funny-ha-ha kind of joke, it always brought a smile to my face. It also in some way helped ingrain the importance of church leaders into my young mind. Even though I am United Methodist, we, like our Roman Catholic brothers and sisters, have our own church leaders. None of them are as elevated by the denomination as the pope is, but we do have them, and they play an important role.

You see, the church is larger than just my local congregation.

Having ecclesial leaders in positions over more than just the individual congregation was one way that I first began to realize this and wrap my mind around the interconnectedness (I thought I was making up a word there, but I was wrong) of God’s church.

Ok. So we have our bishops and they have bishops, cardinals, and a pope. Why should I care about who they put in what positions? Honestly, it’s a fair question, especially in our day and age when—as globally connected as we are—much of the world is compartmentalized and cordoned off from everyone else based on status or membership in different organizations. Why should I as a United Methodist pastor give any attention whatsoever to who is the pope? Well, Jess makes a great point: the pope is the Christianity for much of the world, so we should care who wears the hat. But there’s another reason we should care as well. Whether I am United Methodist (hey, I am) or Lutheran or Southern Baptist or Roman Catholic or a part of any other Christian denomination, I am a Christian. The Body of Christ is far-reaching enough so as to encompass people of faith of myriad denominations as long as those people proclaim the Gospel and place their faith in Jesus as the Christ.

You see, the church is larger than just my specific denomination.

The church includes my current congregations of Crosswicks UMC and Ellisdale UMC. It includes my home congregation of University UMC. It includes Jessica’s current congregation of St. Bartholomew’s Lutheran Church as well as her home congregation of Rejoice Lutheran Church. It includes the congregations of the AME, American Baptist, and LCMS churches that are all about a mile from our house. And it includes the Roman Catholic Church—which, by the way, was a Christian movement LONG before the Methodists and Lutherans were ever on the scene.

We should care about the new pope—as we should have cared about the previous one—because he is a leader of the church, just like Jessica and myself (although on a much grander scale). We should care because God works through the Body of Christ to bring about the Kingdom of God, and this will absolutely include God working through our Roman Catholic brothers and sisters and their new leader in faith. We should all be anxiously waiting to see what great things come out of this office in the coming months and years, and we should join our sister denomination in celebrating God’s continuing work in their midst.

On a much different note, I feel obligated to tell you that, to my disappointment, I learned from Jessica that Argentinians do not eat Mexican food. Contrary to popular belief (or just North American belief—which included me for a long time), not everyone south of the U.S. border enjoys chips and salsa and tacos. If you, like me, were hoping that this new pope would mean more Mexican food restaurants popping up all over the world, you’ll probably be sorely disappointed…

Well, that’s it for now! Be well, our friends, and you stay classy, World Wide Web!

-jess and wes