Category: Seminary

Truth: Man.

by ShethChristianity / Church / Friends / Loneliness / Love / Relationships / Seminary / Truth Tuesday1 Comment on Truth: Man.

There was a question posed on Reddit this past Sunday: “Men of Reddit, what’s a thing that can be scary about being a man?”  I thought it was an intriguing question, and the answers that were given didn’t entirely shock me:

  • It is terrifying how lonely middle age is…
  • People expect you to be ‘okay’ in obviously dangerous situations…
  • Expected to make the first move…
  • She (my ex) spread rumours that I was abusive and violent…
  • Being told to ‘man up’ when you’re having a terrible day…
  • You could be the most depressed person on the planet and no one would give a shit…
  • I don’t want to be seen as a thread by people I would never hurt…
  • People don’t believe when we express sexual assault or abuse…
  • The sheer expectation that we can shoulder everyone’s stress…
  • The loneliness of it…[1]

Yes, as a man I’m comfortable walking down the street.
Yes, as a man I’m comfortable on payday.
Yes, as a man I’m comfortable leaving my drink at the bar.
Yes, as a man I’m comfortable accepting a first call to a pulpit.
I’m comfortable when these things happen because, as a man, life is sometimes easier.[2]  But…

If I’m honest, I’d have to admit that this Reddit thread’s answers and the stories surrounding them are not just heartbreaking…they are my answers and my stories as well, landing terribly close to home.  It’s scary as hell to be a man.

It’s scary, not just because of these things, but because there’s a lot riding on maintaining my manliness.  I must protect.  I must fight.  I must conquer.  I must be the god that is portrayed and passed down because there’s an “invisible male chorus of all the other guys who hiss or cheer as he attempts to approximate the masculine ideal…the chorus is made up of all the guy’s comrades and rivals, all his buddies and bosses, his male ancestors and his male cultural heroes, his models of masculinity…”[3]   I must maintain this idea of ‘man’ and ‘manliness’ because I dare not face the scrutiny of that chorus of ancient voices.

It’s scary because I’m supposed to be an autonomous machine – no feelings, no emotions, no tears (crying is a sign of weakness!) – the world depends on me sucking it up and dealing with it.  I try to talk to women about how weird it is for a man to cry and sometimes I feel like I’m speaking a foreign language to her.  It’s utterly unexpected when a man cries, when a man expresses his heart, when a man exposes his most inner heart.  It’s scary that men don’t have more opportunities to express themselves, and it’s scary that it’s expectedly-unavoidable when men are crushed by the burdens of un-expression.

It’s scary because as much as I’d like to, there’s not a damn thing I can do about this at all.  I don’t want to be emotionally distant.  I don’t want to ‘man up and deal’.  I don’t want to carry burdens because it’s expected of me.  I want to talk, express, cry, be free – but until the world allows me space to do so, I can’t do it.  Until the world admits that my world is scary, I will continue to bow under this weight.  It’s scary because men can’t admit that their world is scary.

Friends, talk with the men in your lives.  Help them to have expression.  Help to carry their burdens – and try to ease their burden.  Help them to overcome those ancient voices of doubt, fear, distrust, and stability.  Help the men in your lives to have friends – real, honest-to-God friends – who talk, share, cry, laugh, and be vulnerable with one another.  Help the men in your lives to understand that they don’t have to do it all…they don’t have to be it all…that they’re not alone.

May God give us vision to see the suffering of the strong.  May God give us hearts to connect to the pain of the powerful.  May God give us the ability to realize that we needn’t be strong nor powerful, but honest and real.  And when we are open and exposed with one another, may we be caring and grateful, offering peace.

much love. sheth.

 

[1] “Men of Reddit, What’s A Thing That Can Be Scary About Being A Man?” Reddit.com; Accessed 12/15/2019. https://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/eaymhi/men_of_reddit_whats_a_thing_that_can_be_scary/

[2] I must say that I’m not comfortable with the idea that, because I’m a man, these things are inherently easier – I’m working for and promoting gender equality so it’s all uniformly easier.

[3] Philip L. Culbertson, Counseling Men (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1994), 25.

Truth: Remember?

by ShethChristianity / Life / Poetry / Prayer / Seminary / Truth Tuesday / WritingLeave a Comment on Truth: Remember?

 

“Remember your baptism!”
said the old man with
arthritic hands, bellowing
from the pulpit.

“Remember…”
I sat in the pew, head skyward,
picking at the curled pages
of the bible.

“Remember your baptism!”
I stared at the dulled (muted)
stained glass Jesus
staring back at me.

“Remember…”
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
I heard it last week
and the week before.

I sit in silence as he
drones on and on
and on, about what
I can’t remember.

I stand to leave; only
Mrs. Meyers notices.
She glares at me, but next week
she won’t remember.

Outside, the clouds are looming,
grey/black/purple
covering the sky.
They remember.

I get wet, the cold rain seeping
through my clothes, drenching,
soaking, saturating to the bone.
And I…
I remember.

 

much love. sheth.

Truth: Choices

by ShethChristianity / Church / Missions / Prayer / Seminary / Truth Tuesday / WorkLeave a Comment on Truth: Choices

Not too long ago my girlfriend and I were making our way to the store and I posed this question: “If you could pick three people from our graduating class to work in a church you attended, who would you pick, and what positions would they fill?”  Never turning down a hypothetical question, she pondered briefly and then quickly rattled off the three names and their positions…then quickly threw in an, “Ooh, wait!  __________ would be great in that position!  And…can I have four choices?”

We went back and forth, thinking of positions in the church and who would be good for them and how we would definitely want this person or that person.  We couldn’t be confined to the parameters of my question and we both quickly came to the consensus that we’d need a very large budget for our staffing because we’d like to have so many of our classmates working in churches we’d attend.

Lately I’ve been spending a lot of my time admiring my classmates and watching them gives me hope for the future, while simultaneously making me jealous of those lucky congregations who get to receive these new chaplains and pastors.  If my classmates are any indication of the future of the Church, I’d say it’s in good hands.

The Church has been in decline in the United States for a while and there’s been a cry for new leadership with fresh ideas to rescue the sinking ship.  I often wonder why these cries continue to come, year after year, because there has been a continual output of new leadership and fresh ideas from seminaries and divinity schools for decades.  I can’t help but wonder who’s at fault.  Have these new and creative voices been stifled?  Have these ideas been put aside for safety and security?  Has the Church rejected change simply for security despite declining numbers?  Will the Church ever come to a realization that there needs to be risk…there needs to be faith…there needs to be failure for growth and success?

As I’ve been watching and listening to my classmates talk about their hopes for the Church and their future communities, I pray to God that they don’t put it all aside for their own security.  I pray that these future chaplains and pastors don’t ‘fall into line’ simply to maintain their jobs.  And I desperately pray that the churches that call these women and men don’t stifle their creativity, their new ideas, or their plans for revitalization.

My task to the Church is this: be willing to take risks with your new leaders.  Call to your leadership positions people with big ideas, challenging ideas, wild-out-of-the-norm ideas.  Call to your leadership positions people who don’t fit the mold, people who you’ve overlooked for so long, people you know will challenge you.  And be willing to step into the discomfort of the unknown with your pastors and chaplains – their ideas may be exactly what your community needs in this moment!

My task to those moving into church and chaplaincy is this: be willing to take risks.  Don’t deny who you are for a paycheck.  Don’t let your ideas, your creativity, your dreams for the Church be stifled by old ideas and ancient ways.  Be ready to say ‘yes’ to things you’d never dreamed of and be willing to fail in big ways.  Meet with other pastors and dream, plot, and scheme together.  Step out of the well-trod pathways and look for other paths, easier – or harder – paths than the one you’re on.  And be willing to quit if you need to…be willing to recognize when you’ve hit a wall and move on.

The future can be bright for the Church if the Church is willing.  May God grant us all an abundance of hope and vision for the future, and may we all have an excess of grace and encouragement for one another.  The change is here…are we willing to take it?

much love. sheth.

Close

by ShethChristianity / Love / Poetry / Prayer / Seminary / Truth TuesdayLeave a Comment on Close


He spoke of silently weeping
after he had climbed to the top of Mount Sinai
and witnessed the rising of the sun
quickly light up the sky
in a splash of vermilion.

He told tales of slowly wading
into the muddy, reedy waters of the Jordan
standing as He did and baptized as He was
in those hallowed waters,
though, this time for the experience.

He recalled solemnly watching
as bodies moved to and from the Western Wall,
those silent – and loud – pray-ers who offered up
their petitions to God, who
no doubt listened intently.


Once, I visited my grandmother
after a long absence, and
as we silently sat in her room,
I held her hand.

I can confidently say, this:


I was closer to God.

Truth: Opposition

by ShethChristianity / Life / Love / Relationships / Seminary / Truth Tuesday1 Comment on Truth: Opposition

Recently I went before my presbytery to move forward in my ordination process and had to face a variety of questions about myself and my calling asked by church pastors and elders.  I stood before that fine group of people with my soul bare and naked and I attempted to answer their questions as best I could.  I managed to give an answer to every question, but there is one question I’m still wrestling with: “Tell us about the last time you interacted with – had a conversation with – a non-believer.”

I looked down at the ground, shuffled my feet, and tried to figure out when that last time was… when did I last interact with a non-believer?  Outside of the cashiers and other service-people I had given my money to, I couldn’t think of an honest and real interaction I’ve had recently.

My realization in that moment wasn’t a shock to me because I live in an insular community: I live with, eat with, study with, and recreate with my seminary classmates.  I haven’t ventured out to make friends outside this place because I’ve never before experienced a place where I can so freely ask questions about faith, about God, about church, and not have to worry about my questions.  While I haven’t recently had a conversation with a non-believer, I’ve realized that it’s been a very healthy few years of solely-Christian based conversations.

Seminary has been a place for me to wonder, to grow, to mull…a place where I have been able to get a better understanding of my beliefs, my faith, and my church.  Seminary has been a place where I have been able to discern, discuss, and debate…all while feeling free of judgement, ridicule, and persecution.  I have been able to hone my thoughts, understand who I am, and who I am in relation to God.

But realizing that it’s been nearly three years since I’ve last had a “real world” conversation, I know that I need to step out beyond these grounds and get back into those spaces.  Not because the world needs me, but because I need it.  I need those discussions, those push-backs, those disagreements.  I need opposition to help me grow.

May we find time to sit and talk with people who don’t share our same beliefs. May we make room in our lives for different ideas…opinions…and thoughts.
May we welcome disagreements and respond in compassion and love.

much love. sheth.

Truth: Burning.

by ShethBeauty / Christianity / Friends / Life / Loneliness / Love / Prayer / Relationships / Seminary / Suicide / Truth Tuesday1 Comment on Truth: Burning.

Villa Grove is a dot on the map, not even a stop – it’s simply a place people drive through, and while there are a few residents within the immediate township, most of the people are scattered around the San Luis Valley.  The residents of the area moved there to enjoy the tranquility of the valley, while others moved there to run away from civilization.  If you mind your own business and don’t get overly friendly, the area is a great place to live.

As a pawn for the USPS, I worked the Villa Grove post office quite often as they were seeking a permanent employee.  The office, situated on the side of the highway, faced east towards Hayden Pass and was prime viewing ground for watching smoke plumes from a forest fire in 2016.  The initial days of the fire were unnerving for people on both sides of the pass as it was unclear which direction the fire would travel. Would it remain on the east side of the pass and head towards Coaldale or would it crawl over the pass and head west towards Villa Grove?

I had a customer come in to the office and she made it clear that she was terrified of what may happen, pounding the counter and demanding that the fire be put out.  She wanted to know why there weren’t more planes and helicopters dropping retardant and water, and why there weren’t more firefighters creating fire lines.  She didn’t want to see the destruction.  She didn’t want to see the dangerous after effects.  She didn’t want people to lose homes and property.  The raging fires were too much for her and she couldn’t see any good in it.

*****

Today I was talking with one of my friends and I was trying to explain why I was taking on more than my fair share of some group work we’re doing together.  And out of nowhere I started to well up with tears because I know this person is facing some big fires in their life, and that’s why I’m doing extra.  The fire in their life is moving along, taking out a lot of old, dead wood and I hate that they have to face the destruction.  The truth is, I’m a lot like that woman at the post office: no more pain, no more struggles, no more danger.  I want the fires out!

*****

That fire on Hayden Pass ended up moving across more than 16,000 acres of land, burning vast areas of deadfall trees and brush – things that needed to burn.  In the following months after that fire, it was difficult to imagine the good that could come from it.  The burn scar had no protection from the rains and there ended up being great deluges in gulches, bringing down dead and burned trees and giant boulders.

As the years have passed, the benefits of the fire are becoming clearer, with healthier trees and grasses becoming more prevalent across the landscape.  The burn scar is becoming less noticeable and, if anything, it makes the unhealthy, non-burned areas more noticeable.  The fire and it’s immediate aftermath were destructive, painful, and left many feeling scared, but it’s made the landscape more beautiful.

*****

I know that my friend has to face these fires. 

I know that it’s going to be difficult, painful, and destructive.

I know there’s nothing I can do to put out these fires –
they’re necessary and have to burn.

I thank God that my friend will be cleared of all the deadfall in their life
and will come out of it with fertile and healthy ground
to grow stronger, deeper, and taller than they were before.

May the fires in our lives burn where they must, and may we face the flames with strength and humility.  May God bring us out of these fires and into growth…into thriving…into beauty.

much love. sheth.

Truth: On Leave.

by ShethChristianity / Friends / Life / Loneliness / Love / Prayer / Relationships / Seminary / Truth Tuesday2 Comments on Truth: On Leave.

Out of character, I’ve been pretty defensive lately, keeping my guard up with the people around me.  Part of it is because there are a handful of students who have learned some of the tricks of the chaplaincy trade and they can now crack the toughest shell with ease (and I need to maintain my mysteriousness). 

As she was working on worship bulletins, Carrie was nonchalantly talking with me, weaving her way through my defenses and she asking me the tough questions.  We talked about my feelings (ugh) and she mentioned that I haven’t been my usual, happy self lately.  I responded that I’m a bit behind in classwork…I’m tired of the school’s systems and unresponsiveness to problems…I’m weary of swings too far to the left and too far to the right…I’m feeling silenced because I’m stereotyped as the oppressor.  I said I’m done with the whole school ‘thing’ and want to move on.

“Maybe you’re beginning to mourn the fact that you’re going to have to move on?  Maybe you’re a little angry that you’re going to have to leave?”

*****

A few weeks ago I had come up with the theme for May’s student newsletter – ‘Leaving’ – and I was looking forward to writing on that subject matter because I have some things I’d like to get off my chest!  But as I think about it and the reflect on the conversation with my friend from earlier today, I’m realizing that she’s probably right – I’m mourning the fact that I’m going to be leaving.  The truth is that I’m ready to go, but I’m not ready to say goodbye to these people.  And I’m realizing that I’m not good at leaving.

I recall being in 4th or 5th grade and having to go to church with my parents outside of our ‘normal’ church time.  It wasn’t rushed or an emergency, but it was still a serious moment.  While not given all the details, I recall my parents telling me that the pastor might be leaving and the church was meeting to discuss it.

The adults met in the sanctuary and us kids went (unsupervised) to the gym to play.  As the evening progressed, it began to sink in that if the pastor left, his daughter – my best friend – would have to leave as well.  My heart dropped slowly through the evening, and I didn’t know how to process those feelings.  I ended up using anger and frustration to express my sadness and heartbreak, and from then on I’ve been protective of leaving moments.

Leaving for college was disastrous.  I intentionally have zero contact with any woman I’ve previously dated.  I slowly let friendships die off if they – or I – move away.  I’d rather cut off, cut out, or destroy any relationship than have to face the process of leaving gracefully.

I know that’s not a healthy way to live, and I think that’s why I’ve been wrestling with all kinds of feelings lately.  I don’t want to be defensive, angry, and holding back my feelings for people – but it’s a whole lot easier than remaining attached and doing the work to maintain relationships.  And it’s a whole lot easier than having to show my feelings and be vulnerable.

I don’t know how to leave gracefully. 

I don’t know how to say goodbye to some relationships and foster others.

I don’t know how to acknowledge that I won’t see most of these people again.

I don’t know how I’ll manage to be in ministry without these talented, loving, Christ-like people by my side.

This hurts my soul…and raises my defenses.

My God,
help me to leave this place well.
let me humbly return.
guide my heart to the new
and bring me often to old.

much love. sheth.

Truth: Prayer Practice

by ShethChristianity / Prayer / Seminary / Truth TuesdayLeave a Comment on Truth: Prayer Practice

As a child, when I would visit my grandparents on school breaks, there were a few things that I could always count on: my grandpa smelling like Old Spice, my grandma cooking entirely too much food, and devotions/prayers at the end of breakfast.  Every morning my grandpa would take out his Bible from the hutch to his right and leave it out, ready to be gathered up when he was finished eating.  He would move his plate to the side as he placed the Bible on the placemat in front of him, opening the onion skin pages to the saved location.  Using Our Daily Bread as his devotional roadmap, and with the table sitting in silence, he would begin: “This morning’s passage comes from…”

After the scripture came the devotional, followed by an ever so brief pause before moving into prayer.  While the last time I witnessed him do this was nearly thirty years ago, I can still remember that he would have very specific prayers: we would heed the day’s message; God would be in the world and lives of those who were suffering, troubled, or alone.  He would pray specifically for a few families that he and my grandma had known, as well as for the salvation of others who had not known Christ.  All told, the experience took less than ten minutes and we would soon be on to other tasks: catching lizards or fish, weeding gardens, carrying firewood, shooting magpies. 

In my immediate family’s home, we weren’t quite put together in the mornings, so our main prayers as a family were at dinner led by my dad.  These prayers were not particularly long, nor were they detailed, and they were definitely not eloquent.  Similar to my grandfather’s prayers, my dad prayed for specific people, but my dads’ prayers varied more than my grandpa’s.  But there was a phrase in my dad’s prayers that has been burned into my mind, and it’s one he still uses to this day: “Thank you for this food before us, bless the hands that prepared it.  Let it nourish our bodies so that we can continue to serve you.”

While I wish that I could say that this dedication to prayer is genetic and that I, too, am approaching God in daily conversation, I must admit that I am the worst pray-er.  I’ve written before about how I’m terrible at regular prayer, and I’m terrible at praying when asked to do so, but since I’ve been in seminary there have been two practices which have helped me in my prayer life.

A rather simple and intentional practice has been for me to remove my eyeglasses when I pray.  At first it was all spiritual and intentional: By removing my glasses when I pray, I am acknowledging that God is my true vision (if you read this in a snooty, pompous voice, you’d be correct).  While this was the intent of the practice at the onset, it’s moved beyond that, and now is a physical movement to signal my body that I’m doing the thing: Hey – we’re praying!  Stop doing everything else! Let’s do this!

The other practice I’ve been working with is using a komboskini – a Greek Orthodox prayer rope.  Moving slowly from knot to knot as I pray, the small woolen rope has allowed me to focus more intently as I pray.  My brain has this awesome ability to lose focus of the task at hand, but as I have been using this rope I have been able to have more intentional prayer times.  [The practice of using the komboskini is usually linked with the Jesus Prayer, but I have found this rope to be useful in much more broader senses of prayer]

While I’m thankful for these tools and practices, I need to remember that they are merely tools – the actions are not the moments of prayer. And there’s a real danger in that practices can become idols: am I praying to God or to this rope…am I worshiping God or am I worshiping God’s Word in the form of this book?

That First Thessalonians type of praying is difficult. Praying continually just isn’t always possible, convenient, or desirable. I take comfort in knowing that the regimented praying grandpa I knew developed over decades of failure. I take comfort in knowing that my father continues to pray those same words day in, day out, not out of habit but out of genuineness. Prayer takes practice. It takes work. It takes successes and failures.

May God give me grace and leeway for learning how to pray, and may I continue to practice while moving towards perfection.

much love. sheth.

Truth: Intent

by ShethChristianity / Relationships / Seminary / Truth TuesdayLeave a Comment on Truth: Intent

Last night I attended my first last worship service as a seminary student.  It was quite the affair as it was the first worship service for the incoming students.  Allen read scripture with power and clarity and Carrie filled the room with her bright, angelic voice.  Jonathan and Jacob sang some melodious sonnet and we all enjoyed the feast with Dr. Lord presiding.  Kallie and Rachel meticulously ensured that it all ran without a hitch.  Dr. Wardlaw, from the pulpit, preached with honesty and conviction while making us budding preachers jealous of his giftedness (he told me he just had a lucky night).

All of the ‘stuff’ changes from year to year – texts, songs, presiders, sermons – but there is one moment all students have experienced: reciting the Declaration of Intent.  It’s this small paragraph we recite in unison as incoming students but will probably never glance at again.  And why would we?  We’ve paid our tuition, attended orientation, made friends, and signed the book.  We’re in and doing the thing.

That small paragraph is a lot like those terms of service agreements I casually breeze through whenever I’m updating my computer.  I don’t read the words – I just check the box and trust that I haven’t sold my soul to Dell.  As I was in my pew last night listening to the incoming students recite that paragraph, I couldn’t help but take stock in my own declaration: have I been living up to those words?

There are five big things in that paragraph: live responsibly; be persistent in pursuing learning; diligence in prayer and praise; responsive to the needs of others; open to others equipping me for service.  These are great ideals and I appreciate that we are to commit to them, but, like those terms of service, I have glossed over them.

Sure, there have been periods when I’ve been consistently pursuing all of the things I said I would.  There have been moments when I’ve had to put them aside, quickly picking them up again when I could.  But honestly, there have been times when I’ve failed miserably in my declared intentions.  I have not always looked out for others, nor have I always lived responsibly, and no, I’m not always open to the suggestions of others.  Seriously, sometimes I’m an ass.

My saving grace is that it’s a Declaration of Intent, not a Declaration of Requirement.  I said those words with hope and determination to act in those ways, but I am in no way required to live that life all the time.  Because I can’t – I can’t do all of those things, all of the time, for all of the people.  I recited and signed with intention, and I’m going to fail.  On more occasions than I’d like to admit, I’ve received abundant grace from faculty, staff, maintenance members, the occasional squirrel, and my fellow students.  They all know and recognize my intention to be all I said I’d be, but they also know I’m full of faults. 

Grace…mercy…pardon…reprieves…they all come into play in seminary life.  While I should work towards those declared intentions, I will be sure to fill my life with grace and mercy, both for myself and others.  If I intend to do anything in seminary this year, let it be living and giving in grace and mercy, full of forgiveness.

.much love. sheth.

Truth: Always.

by ShethChristianity / Life / Poverty / Seminary / Truth TuesdayLeave a Comment on Truth: Always.

One of the things I’ve learned in seminary (or adjacent to seminary) is to be aware of patterns that occur in life around me: particular words, themes, struggles, or bible verses that keep occurring day after day.  In my final week of interning at a church here in Austin, I was bombarded by the words of Jesus from the gospel of Matthew: “You will always have the poor with you, but you won’t always have me.”  I’ve probably heard this verse a million times, but have glossed over it because it occurs right before the last supper, the passion, the resurrection…it gets lost in the larger story of the final chapters of Matthew.  But lately it’s been at the forefront of my life.

The words first appeared in my Sunday school class, even though we were studying the minor prophets.  They showed up again in that morning’s sermon, even though we were in the book of Exodus.  The following day I was visiting with an elderly woman in an assisted living facility and she had brought up the passage in our discussion of the city of Austin.  To add icing to this frequency cake, it was brought up by my dad in a phone conversation that week as we discussed the poverty situation in my home town.

Truthfully, it’s a tough verse to swallow because it seems like we’ve been given a task we cannot complete, and Jesus’ words acknowledge this fact.  Moses spoke similar words in Deuteronomy: “There will always be some Israelites who are poor and needy.  That’s why I am commanding you to be generous with them.”  It seems that no matter how much we work to end poverty, it will always be a constant in our lives.

One of the reasons I have yet to run a marathon is because I know I wouldn’t complete it (and the fact that I hate running and am terribly out of shape…but that’s another discussion).  I rarely start things that I cannot take to their conclusion because I don’t like leaving things incomplete.  Up until two weeks ago I was fine with helping the poor and thinking of ways to end poverty…then I read Jesus’ words and my energies were immediately depleted.  Why would I dare take on something that I cannot finish?  Why would I put my time and energy into something that is never going to be finished?  Why does God call me to help the poor but doesn’t give me the ability to end poverty?

Our noses are constantly in our field of vision, but our brains have this mechanism (unconscious selective attention) that allows us to sort of ignore seeing our noses: “It’s thought that your mind does this because is considers the sight of your nose unimportant, so it unconsciously puts your attention on other things in your field of vision.”  Perhaps Jesus’ words are to remind us to keep the poor in our vision because we can so easily gloss them over – we can get so used to seeing them that we sort of ignore them like we do our noses.

The fact that the poor will always be with me opens my eyes to the fact that this work is never completed.  And it’s more than just the poor that will always be with me: it’s the hungry, the tormented, the terrorized, the fearful, the needy, the angry, the immigrant, the rich, the harassed, the discriminated.  As much as I would like to check a box as complete on my “Christianity To-Do List”, Jesus’ words remind me that He didn’t leave a set of chores to get done before his return.  Jesus’ words give me a task to work on, but also gives me a clarity of vision.  I must not lose sight of those who need help, I must not get used to those experiencing homelessness, I must not shrug my shoulders in cynicism and give up on helping.

The poor will always be with me – with us.  They are not a distraction and must not be forgotten.  Instead, we should show them mercy and compassion, working every day for the restoration of the children of God’s kingdom.  May we never lose sight of the poor who are always with us, and may we diligently work towards bringing them what they need – food, shelter, compassion, restoration, safety, security, and peace.

much love. sheth.