the words made me angry
because they sunk in too late
because i hadnt pushed through the pc exterior for the desire beneath
because a hard shell like that so easily deflects my attempts to bring you in closer
a real Russian church, she said
to feel something on Easter
but, what is real?
it only sunk in later that her words dismissed my church as real
i know she meant the building
the cupolas, the candles, the icons, and the women in scarves
but she wants something different
she doesnt know where to find it
and she thinks going to a museum hall on a religious day will show her
but what about the life?
what about the breath and joy and laughter and family?
those are found in a room in a hotel conference room, where there aren't enough chairs
smiles and tears and loud crowd-joining prayers and singing and hands lifted high
its what she wants, what she doesnt know is missing
but she's looking for that in a building, a museum, a day on the Calendar
why? why didnt i hear that all in those words she spoke,
the ones that sunk in late and furrowed my brow
how? how do i recover from the way i accepted the dismissal of my church as real?
the words made me angry
not because of the ignorance that spoke them
but because of all that was lost in between them
Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Prayer and Persecution
Prayer.
It's the lifeblood of Christians from its Jewish roots to its current persecutions. And yet, it is elusive even as it is essential. It is the method of preservation of the soul, it is the power of miracles and protection and provision and deliverance. It is the means, the voice, the fiber of our very connection to the God of our salvation, and yet, it can be as invisible and absent in a life that claims that salvation as it is indispensable and omnipresent in another. In fleshing this out, I don't point a finger at others, but at myself. Knowing prayer as an old friend, I have neglected it. But in neglecting the means, the conversation, I am also neglecting my Savior, my relationship. And it results in confusion. Awkwardness. Like when you misinterpret a text message statement because it wasn't made face to face, or in this case, on my face.
I read an article yesterday that really sobered me - it was reporting on the active persecution of Christians going on in the world, and noted how these persecuted Christians certainly acknowledge the difficulty and dangers of their circumstances, but chillingly added that they weren't sure they could live in a place where "Christian" was just an arbitrary label that is mistaken for a life without sacrifice or risk. And I read those words, thinking about my own life, where my own Christian life has only experienced "risk" in the form of peer disapproval, empty politically-correct debate, and selfishly based "fear of man" issues. While people each day don't just risk their lives by making the decision to follow Christ, they give them up, or they risk the lives of their loved ones, sometimes watching as they are punished for the cause of Christ, the privilege to bear the label "Christ's".
I see this in the striking difference with which I, a privileged American under no threat of persecution, look on an acquaintance - a self-proclaimed convert from Christianity to Atheism - and has since begun a loud evangelism campaign against any kind of Theism, especially Christianity. I see his Atheism as annoying, self-assuming, grating on my nerves, and obnoxious at times. But how does the persecuted Christian in North Korea view his atheist "comrades" - those who brutally persecute, as well as those who secretly inform and publicly incriminate - or those who simply have never heard the gospel at all. I bet the words "annoying" and "obnoxious" aren't the first words to come to their minds. And while their risk is greater - so much greater than my sore spot at an offensive or rude facebook comment (I know, gag me) - I'd bet they have different words describing these people. Broken. Confused. Blind. Lost. But Loved.
These brothers and sisters of mine would never equate themselves with the sacrifice of our Savior who bore the sins of the world and the wrath of our Father God on the cross, but I bet they understand so much more those words, "Father, forgive them, they know not what they do." And, I also bet, that they cling to prayer desperately just as I neglect it carelessly.
To find out more about these brothers and sisters, visit http://www.opendoorsusa.org/
It's the lifeblood of Christians from its Jewish roots to its current persecutions. And yet, it is elusive even as it is essential. It is the method of preservation of the soul, it is the power of miracles and protection and provision and deliverance. It is the means, the voice, the fiber of our very connection to the God of our salvation, and yet, it can be as invisible and absent in a life that claims that salvation as it is indispensable and omnipresent in another. In fleshing this out, I don't point a finger at others, but at myself. Knowing prayer as an old friend, I have neglected it. But in neglecting the means, the conversation, I am also neglecting my Savior, my relationship. And it results in confusion. Awkwardness. Like when you misinterpret a text message statement because it wasn't made face to face, or in this case, on my face.
I read an article yesterday that really sobered me - it was reporting on the active persecution of Christians going on in the world, and noted how these persecuted Christians certainly acknowledge the difficulty and dangers of their circumstances, but chillingly added that they weren't sure they could live in a place where "Christian" was just an arbitrary label that is mistaken for a life without sacrifice or risk. And I read those words, thinking about my own life, where my own Christian life has only experienced "risk" in the form of peer disapproval, empty politically-correct debate, and selfishly based "fear of man" issues. While people each day don't just risk their lives by making the decision to follow Christ, they give them up, or they risk the lives of their loved ones, sometimes watching as they are punished for the cause of Christ, the privilege to bear the label "Christ's".
I see this in the striking difference with which I, a privileged American under no threat of persecution, look on an acquaintance - a self-proclaimed convert from Christianity to Atheism - and has since begun a loud evangelism campaign against any kind of Theism, especially Christianity. I see his Atheism as annoying, self-assuming, grating on my nerves, and obnoxious at times. But how does the persecuted Christian in North Korea view his atheist "comrades" - those who brutally persecute, as well as those who secretly inform and publicly incriminate - or those who simply have never heard the gospel at all. I bet the words "annoying" and "obnoxious" aren't the first words to come to their minds. And while their risk is greater - so much greater than my sore spot at an offensive or rude facebook comment (I know, gag me) - I'd bet they have different words describing these people. Broken. Confused. Blind. Lost. But Loved.
These brothers and sisters of mine would never equate themselves with the sacrifice of our Savior who bore the sins of the world and the wrath of our Father God on the cross, but I bet they understand so much more those words, "Father, forgive them, they know not what they do." And, I also bet, that they cling to prayer desperately just as I neglect it carelessly.
To find out more about these brothers and sisters, visit http://www.opendoorsusa.org/
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)