Tag Archives: peace

Lighting Matches Part 3: Start Here

The big picture of America today is intense. One look at the price of gas and my anxiety shoots up right along with those numbers! War, government shutdown, and voting redistricting ramp up emotions. Every day uncovers a new crisis!

Here’s the thing. You cannot control what happens in the world, but you are in charge of how you respond when your own anxiety rises.

We began this series by zooming out. In an effort to look beyond the reactive, emotional intensity in our nation, I described America as a gas-filled room where people keep lighting matches. This way of thinking is called systems thinking.

Systems thinking challenges you to be thoughtful instead of reactive – to look beyond the immediate, flammable frustration (war, shutdown, redistricting) and investigate the cause of the gas leak, or the anxiety. It is easy to get upset when a match is lit. It is more difficult to slow down, notice what else is going on, and decide how to respond.

Last week, I wrote that in emotionally intense times, hate binds people together. When anxiety rises and emotions are ramped up, we join a group – maybe adhere ourselves to a political party, or become a Swiftie. The options are endless! Instead of slowing down to think through what “I” believe and value, “we” remain stuck together by our intense feelings.1

One more summary of the first two posts in this series:

  1. We zoomed out to confirm that we live in an anxious society. The individual, flammable frustrations (war, shutdown, redistricting) are not the problem, the problem is the gas filling the room.
  2. We confirmed that in anxious times, we react quickly rather than respond thoughtfully, and find our “tribe.” When emotions ramp up, we tend to rely more on intense feelings of togetherness than on our best, individual thinking, leaving society stuck in the gas-filled room.

What now? Knowing that you can only control how you respond and nothing else, what path might you take out of the gas-filled room?

The path out of the gas-filled room begins at your doorstep.

Let’s zoom back in, all the way into your neighborhood.

Ben Sasse is a former Republican senator of Nebraska. In an interview with 60 Minutes, he spoke of mending the brokenness of politics by starting where you live. Rather than getting caught up in the impossible, big political arguments, think neighbor-to-neighbor. “I think your fundamental political community is your neighborhood, and your city hall and maybe even your state legislature.”

Neighbor-to-neighbor is actually something you and I can work on; it is one path you and I can take to thoughtfully slow down and respond, instead of quickly react in this anxious moment in America’s life. Start in your own neighborhood.

A few years ago, I told the story of a failed attempt at a neighborhood get-together one summer. A couple of years later, the results were different. Marcus and I hosted 25 or so neighbors in our backyard.

It was a casual pizza party.2 Kids played. Neighbors young and old chatted. The group included a cyber security expert, doctor, teachers, retired folks, an oil field employee and a rowdy group of kids, among others.

I believe neighborhoods are safer when we take time to get to know one another, neighbor-to-neighbor. What do you believe about neighborhoods?

A casual pizza party will not fix war, shutdowns or redistricting. It will not immediately fix the gas leak in anxious America. Yet, it is one small step toward mending the brokenness.

I believe that professing I am a Christian requires me to be invested in my neighborhood – to look up and down the street for neighbors to get to know, even to rely on at times.

The big picture of America may be intense. Remember, your sole responsibility is not to fix it, but to decide how you might thoughtfully respond. Instead of lighting a match, or letting another match ramp you up, let the light of Christ guide you into the way of peace – peace for you and for your neighbor.

Photo by Marcus Moore on Unsplash

  1. Of course, there are times in a society when matches need to be lit: slavery must end, women must vote, LGBTQ people must be recognized as human beings. There are matches that need to be lit for the sake of justice, don’t get me wrong. Here, I am focusing on lighting matches that are not thoughtful or productive, but reactive to the anxiety. ↩︎
  2. In this blog post, I shared that Shannan Martin wrote one of my favorite books on this subject. ↩︎

Lighting Matches Part 2: When a President Hates

What happens when a president speaks aggressively against particular groups of people? You have a few options:

  1. Join in and light more matches!
  2. Or, as long as you are not part of that group, you can ignore it.
  3. Or, you can slow down, notice the gas leak, and get curious about this word from systems thinking (Bowen theory): togetherness.

When a crisis strikes a community, people come together – shoveling driveways after a winter storm or hauling away a neighbor’s debris in the aftermath of a tornado. It is natural for human beings to come together for the common good.

It is also natural for human beings to come together when emotions are ramped up and society becomes a gas-filled room. We gravitate toward like-minded people who do not challenge our thinking, but affirm our thinking. In this kind of togetherness, we seek the company of those who agree and make us feel comfortable and correct. This way, we can like and dislike the same sorts of people.

“Hate can be a deeply stimulating emotion. The world becomes much easier to understand and much less terrifying if you divide everything and everyone into friends and enemies, we and they, good and evil. The easiest way to unite a group isn’t through love, because love is hard. It makes demands. Hate is simple.”1

Hate can be a product of the togetherness force. We experience this…

  • within families (in our family, we hate when people add vegetables to tater tot hotdish),
  • or among friends (we cannot stand the White Sox2),
  • or at work (the competitor is our mortal enemy),
  • or in church (God forbid our grandchildren ever convert to that other dreadful religion),
  • or in society (if you do not belong to my political party, you are so very Wrong).

The togetherness force allows us to hate with others and not alone. It is more comfortable to surround ourselves with people who would not upset the hate vibe, but simply agree in order to keep peace in the group. And, you guessed it, the silent gas leak in American society persists when we rely on this sort of unhealthy togetherness.

When we rely on hate to bind a group together, we join in ramping up emotions when it might be better to slow down and think alone. The group becomes a clump of people instead of individual, thoughtful selves.

Instead of blindly agreeing with the group, you might do some research on your own. Get curious and ask yourself whether the White Socks are really so bad. (Jim Thome, after all.) You can look at the group you are part of (family, friend group, political party, church, etc.) and recognize that a healthy group not only allows for individual thinking, but even individual, respectful disagreement.

When you step back from the group and ask your self some questions, this is called the individuality force.

You are your own person with your own unique beliefs, principles, values and goals. But when you are fused to a group (a political party, family, church, or friend group, etc…) and emotions ramp up, it becomes extremely difficult (like a camel going through the eye of a needle) to manage your own thinking without letting your emotions take the lead.

  • Consider a subject you feel particularly passionate about these days. How much of your thinking has been inherited from your family or borrowed from a group?
  • Consider a group you are formally or informally part of. Does this group bring out your best self and encourage you to stick to your principles? Or is it so emotional to be part of this group that you aren’t quite sure just what you believe when you are with this group?

A group of any sort that encourages hate is suspect. Hate is antithetical to the Christian faith.

Those who say, “I love God,” and hate a brother or sister are liars, for those who do not love a brother or sister, whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen. (1 John 4:20)

  1. Beartown by Fredrick Backman, Chapter 35 ↩︎
  2. This is a baseball given, said any Twins fan ever ↩︎

Photo by Morgan Caradec on Unsplash

Lighting Matches: When the President Portrays Himself as Jesus

Consider this image: An enclosed room with a silent gas leak. No one notices the gas until a troublemaker lights one match, and then another. The match matters—but the greater danger is the invisible gas filling the room.

This is called systems thinking. Instead of focusing on the troublemaker lighting matches, it would be more effective to address the gas leak.

Why in the world am I telling you such a strange story?! Let me explain.

I write blogposts to invite you to be thoughtful in your relationships with family, colleagues, friends and neighbors. Relationships, as you well know, can get tense. When there is tension (also called anxiety) in a relationship and emotions ramp up, words or actions that would otherwise be no big deal are suddenly flammable. Examples:

  • Your co-worker left colored paper in the copy machine (a match is lit) and now your agendas are neon pink. Normally, you would recall the 80’s and laugh, but…you lose your cool.
  • Your kiddo spilled a full glass of milk at the dinner table (a match is lit). Most nights, you understand kids are clutzy, but…you cry big tears over spilled milk.

Systems thinking challenges us to be thoughtful instead of reactive – to look beyond the immediate, flammable frustration and investigate what is causing the gas leak, or the anxiety. It is easy to get upset when a match is lit. It is more difficult to slow down, look around the relationship, and wonder what else is going on.

If we investigate those examples, we can see what else is going on.

  • Your co-worker left colored paper in the copy machine and now your meeting agendas are neon pink, but because your dog kept you up last night, your car payment is overdue, and your grandma is sick, (the gas-filled room) you lose your cool.
  • Your kiddo spilled a full glass of milk at the dinner table, but because you are anxiously waiting for the doctor to get back to you with test results (the gas-filled room), you cry big tears over spilled milk.

You can see it is easier to react to the match lighting and harder to investigate what else is adding to the anxiety or tension, resulting in a gas-filled room. Here is another example:

  • The president posts a meme of himself as the Son of God…and people. go. nuts.

I am less interested in the content of this blasphemous post in which my own president portrays himself as the Son of God among exclusively white people. It’s just a match being lit. However, I would like to investigate what is filling the room with gas.

  • The president posts a meme of himself as the Son of God, at the same time trust in institutions has been depleted, social media speeds up our reactions to the news, news is posted in real time and not always accurately, the rich and powerful have left the poor and unemployed in the dust, and people. go. nuts.

America today is a gas-filled room and people (not only the president) keep lighting matches. The people lighting matches may be looking for trouble, but the greater trouble is the flammable gas all around us.

Wouldn’t you like to investigate the gas leak and how we, as a nation, might address the leak? The Christian faith requires each individual to consider how we are faithful citizens outside of church building. Let’s investigate:

  • How is social media ramping up emotions in the United States? (match-lighting)
  • How are smart people get duped by ridiculous claims and memes on the internet? (match-lighting)
  • How do “Christians” seem to overlook the president’s significantly un-Christian motives and actions? (match-lighting)

Putting out small fires is not as effective as addressing the gas leak. With the leak under control, troublemakers could light matches with little to no effect.

But today, as long as there is invisible gas filling the society, America will react and not thoughtfully respond to each match.

Circling back, I write blogposts to get you thinking about your relationships and what happens when there is tension or anxiety.

This three-part series is meant to get you thinking about how you as a person of faith and a citizen want to move through time of tension and anxiety as matches are lit in a gas-filled United States of America.

I also write blogposts to invite you to rely on Jesus’ tender love for you. When you rely on Jesus’ tender love in our own life, you may be more compassionate with others and the gas leak may begin to close.

The president’s blasphemous meme is not the problem, it’s just a match being lit. There is more going on as emotions keep ramping up. I wonder what might happen if each of us were to investigate the leak, that is, to do our best, most faithful-filled, individual thinking and rely on the tender love of Jesus for ourselves and for our neighbors.

Two posts will follow this one:
Part Two: The danger of relying on emotions and sharing a common enemy
Part Three: A thoughtful, Christian, neighborly response to this time in America

P.S. As I offer this invitation to think more clearly as individuals, I welcome your feedback, and your own thinking and wondering as we move through this season of America’s life. Please comment or message me directly if that is most comfortable for you. Your thinking helps my thinking, as we rely on the tender love of Jesus together.

Imaginary Enemies

I hope I wasn’t the only one who grew up with imaginary friends. I also had real live friends, but my two imaginary friends were the most reliable. Always there when I needed them!

Since then, both of them have moved on, or I have moved on. Perhaps both.

There comes a time when the imaginary people must move on, and we must move on. Definitely both.

Just as there are reliable, imaginary friends, there are reliable, imaginary enemies. People we have pitted against us, even though they may not even exist. Imagined enemies we have learned to hate.

I noticed when our president spoke against imaginary enemies in his eulogy for Charlie Kirk. His words reminded me of Fredrick Backman’s definition of hate in his novel, “Beartown.”

Hate can be a deeply stimulating emotion. The world becomes much easier to understand and much less terrifying if you divide everything and everyone into friends and enemies, we and they, good and evil. The easiest way to unite a group isn’t through love, because love is hard. It makes demands. Hate is simple.

At about minute 24 of the eulogy, the president referred to debates he’d had with Charlie Kirk. According to the president, Kirk did not hate his opponents. That, the president explained, was where they disagreed. “I hate my opponent, and I don’t want what’s best for them,” the president proclaimed to a cheering funeral crowd.

Like any president ever, ours has a long line of opponents, enemies he has made here and there. And yet, I’m not sure all of his enemies are real. I wonder if his love for having an enemy can threaten to create imaginary enemies, enemies that invite people to hate even further.

Hate is so powerfully stimulating, it can baptize a crowd of Christians in an amnesia bath, foregoing a substantial pillar of the Christian faith: love thine enemies (real or imagined), do good to those who hate you, offer the other cheek, and so on.

When there is tension in the air in our society, in your family, or in your work, you are in charge of only one person: You. You cannot change the people around you, especially your enemies, but you can decide how you will move through the tension.

  • How do I want to show up in this anxious time of our country?
  • What emotion do I need to notice in myself, so that it does not get the best of me?
  • Am I watching too much news? (I appreciated Danielle Webster’s words in this episode of The Prairie Beat podcast.)

Blessed are you as you wrestle with your place in this anxious time, for you will be filled with the real live love of the God who came to live among you in a real live body simply to love. Love. Love.

Photo by Gaelle Marcel on Unsplash

A Chasm Has Been Fixed – Great. What’s a Chasm?

There are some strange words in the Bible. Actually, you can find a lot of them. I suppose a collection of books that spans thousands of years will deliver a handful unfamiliar terms.

Among the strange words: chasm.

I dare you to use this word in ordinary conversation today. No, I triple-dog dare you! First, what is this word?

Chasm appears but once in the Bible, referring to a gulf, or a great big separation. In Luke 17:26 it describes the empty space that stands between the rich man and Lazarus (the poor man) in the afterlife.

Can you imagine it?!! A monumental gulf between the rich and the poor? As if.

The rich man likes it not one bit. “Yo, Abraham,” he bellows from the fiery side of the chasm, as though Abraham is the bouncer. “Can you fix this chasm? Get me across?”

“Nope,” comes Abraham’s reply before reminding the rich man how he spent his life on earth ignoring Lazarus, stepping over his suffering body each day. The rich man’s control on earth did not accompany him into the afterlife.

On the news, I have seen this rich man. I have seen him cut programs that will primarily impact the poor and leave him and his ivy league cronies in the safety zone of wealth. I have seen him.

He has sent innocent immigrant families into a dangerously chaotic panic, even though these many (not all) of these families have improved my community with their hard work and dedication. I know this rich man.

The problem, as you well know, goes beyond the chasm between the rich and the poor. The more troublesome chasm in the United States runs between truth and baseless lies, between those who are loyal to President Trump and those who are less impressed with the past two months.

The real problem is not the chasm, but the fact that the chasm exists at all.

What is a chasm? It is the human presumption that “they” are wrong and “we” are right. No matter who is cast as “they” and “we”, the chasm is hugely problematic for the poor.

The gospel writer of Luke consistently points to the injustice of those who are left systemically poor. It is the unique spirit of this particular book. The writer concludes this chapter by insisting that not even a resurrection could fix the chasm that stands between the rich and the poor, which is a dismal forecast, yet more than 2,000 years later, seems correct.

Not even the resurrection of Christ reduced the gulf between the rich man and Lazarus. Not even religious wars or world wars or the invention of the internet. Not the expanse to the west or even into outer space fixed the chasm between those who have enough and those whose children will not survive past the age of one because their water is unclean.

Chasms are stubborn that way. Fed by the fertilizer of fear, the chasm between the rich and the poor, between versions of the truth, between political sides is not a far-away problem, but a here-and-now-problem.

  • How might the way that you speak of “them” and “us” affect the chasm? Who is listening and learning from your rhetoric?
  • Is there a news source you have not explored, a side of the coin you might explore in order to keep the chasm from expanding?
  • Name it. What are you afraid of as you stand on your side of the chasm? What is it about “them” that incites fear in you?

If the Bible teaches us anything, it is that hate and bitterness are not change agents. Only mercy engenders change.

Mercy. There’s a word. That word makes avalanches of appearances in the Bible. It is spoken and acted out repeatedly. Perhaps mercy could make more appearances among us today, beginning in our homes, on our devices, and among our next-door neighbors.

Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

Round Tables

Churches have tables – oh so many tables!

There are the cumbersome rectangular tables that arrived in churches when people were unaware of back injuries. You can find tiny tables in classrooms, where grown-ups also squeeze in around from time to time when the grown-up tables are busy. There is, of course, the Lord’s Table, that most important where we feast with the saints in light.

And then there are the round tables. Pay attention to the round tables.

In the church I serve, the round tables may be akin to your dining room table at home. They are the place where everything happens: eating, crafting, homeworking, and visiting. Unlike most dinner tables, because of the superb custodial staff at staff at St. John, there are no piles on these tables. They are fully functional!

The round tables at this church have hosted family conversations, hopefully providing an on-ramp for parents and guardians to begin meaningful conversations about the tricky matters of life: money, relationships, body image. At these tables, families have gathered to grieve.

People sit at the round tables to imagine God’s desired future: planning weddings, holding meetings, and gathering with church partners.

Famously, the Knights of the Round Table used that very shape to ensure peace in the kingdom. At a round table, you come face-to-face with the people impacted by the conversation and decisions that are made. The table must be round, lest we lose sight of each individual member of the body of Christ.

Wherever you go, may your tables be round this week, that is, may you sit beside those who are impacted by the decisions you make, and together may you find peace. May you come face-to-face with those who accompany you through this life. May you draw near to those whom God has strategically placed in your life, not overlooking them in the busyness of your days, but refreshing your memory on the uniqueness of their eye color.

Photo by Allison Saeng on Unsplash

A Trail of Two Words

Two words emerged as a refrain last week when I met via Zoom with my spiritual director. The words wove their way through our prayer and conversation, a pair insistent upon staying together and staying in front of us.

My spiritual director introduced the words, or so I thought. “What a brilliant set of words!” I reflected. The perfect pair for prayer.

Later, I realized he had in fact borrowed the words from me! I found them in my previous blogpost and in my journal. “Wow,” I congratulated myself.

Later still, I noticed the two words in the confession our congregation prayed together on Sunday. The pair of words I thought I had come up with were the brilliant creation of a liturgist.

If I were to follow the trail even further, I would find the words elsewhere. I would find them dripping off the pen of a poet, a theologian, and who knows who else. Probably you.

When my spiritual director and I were in prayer and conversation, we moved through the heaviness of the past month: the weight of goodbyes we said to saints who have gone before us, the long and yet lovely stretch of Christmas worship services.

Prayer may be like this for you, too. Moving along in prayer, you find a side road and without even noticing, you follow the side road away from the main road of your prayers. Suddenly you are sunk in a ditch of worry and regrets.

That’s when my spiritual director said two words that I will keep close by in the year ahead. A pair that is perfect for prayer:

Begin again.

The two words are nothing new. The words are so old, in fact, they are ancient. 

Begin again.

The trail of these two words reminds me that the wisdom you need most may not be in front of you but behind you. God may have abundantly scattered quiet wisdom in a long-ago moment of hardship, or in a past season of celebration. The forgotten seeds grow in the Spirit’s time, a sign of new life.

Begin again.

You cannot see far into the year ahead, yet you can hold onto wisdom God has already given you in years behind.

Photo by Judy Beth Morris on Unsplash

Mostly New

Unlike a brand-new device, a refurbished device is mostly new – a mixture of new and original parts. The last iPhone I bought was refurbished because I can be cheap. Although the phone is not exceptionally fast or fancy, the mostly new arrangement works well for me. I can accept its limitations, appreciate its past experience, and appreciate the advantages of having a phone.

At the end of December, I get swept up in the sparkly, self-improvement promises of the new year. As though this time around, it will be easier to shape up that diet, save more money, and strike a better work-life balance.

But remember, you are not a brand-new device. You, beloved one of God, are refurbished!

You begin a new year not entirely new, but as your original self. You enter 2025 with limitations, past experience, and brand-new wisdom acquired by the ups and downs of the previous year.

You begin a new year with old wisdom, some very good habits, some room for growth, and the gentle grace of God. For me, the wisdom that widens each year is gentleness. A new year can parade into your life with unrealistic expectations. Be gentle on yourself. You will get some things right in the year ahead and fall flat on your face a few times.

Grace abounds.

Breathe in Christ’s peace then breathe it out.

The love of God through the Christ child makes you new, or new enough, to begin again.

Photo by Maddi Bazzocco on Unsplash

The God Who Trades

...to comfort all who mourn...to give them a garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning... (from Isaiah 61:2-3)

God is no good at trading. In this last section of Isaiah, God trades the hardship of the Israelites for renewed hope. “Let me carry your mourning,” God offers, “while you hold the gladness.”

What an uneven trade, Lord! Everyone knows mourning is heavier than gladness. And sins weigh more than forgiveness, another one of God’s uneven trades.

God is unfathomably generous. God’s ways do not align with our human, even-trading, fairness-focused, transactional look at life. We do not give this in order for God to do that. This is not a balanced relationship.

Which is nice.

When the dark winter days come with heavy human sadness, it is good to know that Christ will carry his share of the pain and yours. “Sit down, take a load off,” you hear Jesus whisper. “I will take care of things and when you are ready, you can follow me through the darkness. You are looking a bit broken today. I will gather the pieces and trade you for the peace only I can give you.”

Thank you, Lord, for uneven trades, a mark of your light-bearing grace.

Photo by Joshua Rodriguez on Unsplash

Berry Season Forever Prayer

Dear Lord,

Please could it be berry season forever? Could all lands be lands of perpetual strawberry and blueberry harvest? I wouldn’t mind. I’d trade it for root vegetable season any day of the week! Potatoes and parsnips are no fun in yogurt parfaits.

This world is not as it should be. Berry season is temporary, much to my dismay.

On the list of complaints you will hear today, this is on the low end. Better that you tend to war refugees, among them thousands of Ukrainian children snatched up by the Russian army, an injustice that should get all our hearts racing. Could you, Lord, deal with corrupt governments, the production of opioids, and the disproportionate number of foster kids to foster parents? Your to-do list is long, I get it. My list is mostly laundry.

One human response to your long to-do list is fear, as though the world only recently became broken and the way through is to be afraid for the future, afraid of our neighbor, afraid of losing assets, afraid you’ve jumped ship and found another universe you like better.

Another response requires the long view, a look at your creation that takes the viewer back to the beginning. This response is more work, thus less desirable. We’re human, you made us, you get it. The long view reveals a season and a time for all things: a time for sweet berry harvests and another for hearty root vegetables; a season for peace but not for everyone, everywhere at the same time; a season for long days, another for long nights.

Like us, you long for the world to be as it should, to match your original dream. Out of love, you create scientists to contend with disease. You raise up an agency to fight for the safety of children and another to set up refugee camps. You call prophets and poets to speak truth. Again, your to-do list is lengthy and I see only in part, as Paul writes.

For today, I will enjoy the berry season. I will miss it when the days grow shorter. Then, the sun will set earlier and I will go to bed at a decent time and so will the rest of us, except for the teenagers. Lord, why did you make them so weird?

Thank you for berries, Lord, and all the ways you add sweetness to this life. Amen.

Photo by Will on Unsplash