Stepping Out In Faith

#ThreeSteps In a Christian's Walk

leap of faith

Stepping Out in Faith

By Beth Demme

Has anyone ever told you to take a leap of faith? It can sound irrational, even dangerous. For example, in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, one of the last challenges Indy faces as he searches for The Holy Grail is a “leap of faith” across a deep chasm. When he steps out into the chasm we expect him to fall to his death, but <cue the trumpets!> his foot lands on a hidden stone bridge. At that point in the movie, Indy smiles in his charming, knowing way and dashes across the bridge to victory. (Watch it here.)

In the Gospel of Matthew, the Apostle Peter also steps out in faith. Peter and the disciples are on the Sea of Galilee. They see a figure walking towards them. They think it’s a ghost, but Jesus reassures them saying, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” Wonderful, impulsive Peter says, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” Jesus says, “Come.” Peter gets out of the boat and begins walking on the water.

Peter walked on water not because he had faith in his own ability, but because he had faith in Jesus.

All is well until Peter notices the strong wind. He gets scared and begins to sink. He cries out, “Lord, save me!” Jesus immediately reaches out his hand and catches him. Jesus escorts Peter into the boat, at which point the wind stops.

Peter stepped out in faith, and into faith until life got stormy.

I can relate to Peter. It’s exhilarating to step out in faith and walk toward Jesus. Nothing is better than those moments when I know, without a doubt, that God is with me. Moments when the path in front of me seems impossible, and yet I have a peace that passes all understanding.

When I can’t see the path, I’m driven to pray, pray, pray. My prayer sounds something like, “Jesus, if it is you, show me how to come to you.”

It’s Not About What You Can Do

God Can Make Abundance From Nothing

It’s Not About What You Can Do

God Can Make Abundance From Nothing

By Beth Demme

I know you know the story. The story of the Feeding of the Five Thousand.

Jesus wanted a little peace and quiet to mourn the death of John the Baptist. He tried to go off by himself, but the crowds followed him. Jesus put his need for time and space to grieve on the back burner. Compelled by compassion for others, he chose to care for the people in the crowd.

Jesus spent the day healing people. At the end of the day, the disciples knew the people needed to eat. They told Jesus to send everyone home. The disciples wanted the people to be self-sufficient, to feed themselves.

But Jesus tells the disciples he’s not going to send the people home.

He says, “the crowd can stay, you give them something to eat.” The disciples respond, probably with a tinge of disbelief, “we have nothing except five loaves and two fish.”

I always picture this scene with an almost cartoonish exaggeration. The disciples stand with their shoulders and their eyebrows raised, the pockets of their tunics are turned inside out, they hold out their hands, and they say, “But, Jesus, we’ve got nothing for them.”

Maybe their reaction was more reserved, more subtle. Maybe even a little regretful. “Sorry, Jesus, we didn’t bring any food. There isn’t enough. We have nothing we can give these people.”

We all feel that way sometimes like we have nothing left to give—whether it’s money, time, gifts, abilities—whatever it is, we feel like we have nothing God can use.

But our God is the Creator.  If we look back at the poetry of Genesis 1 we see God creating something out of what? Nothing.

The Feeding of the Five Thousand ends with there being more than enough—an abundance.

All ate and were filled; and they took up what was left over of the broken pieces, twelve baskets full. And those who ate were about five thousand men, besides women and children. (Matthew 14:20-21)

God created an abundance from what the disciples described as nothing.

Speechless Prayers Might Be Your Best Prayers

A Reflection on Romans 8:26-39

Speechless Prayers Might Be Your Best Prayers

By Beth Demme

Some moments in life leave us speechless. Sometimes wonder, or gratitude, or disbelief, or grief seem to steal our words.

Sometimes I want to pray, but there are no words. Other times the words come, but I know they are not enough.

There are times when I am awe-struck by the beauty of creation or the gift of another day. There are moments when I am overwhelmed with gratitude for the family, and the life, I have. There are times I shake my head in disbelief over how people treat each other, or how I have treated another. And there are sob-filled moments when I am overcome with the pain of old losses and fear for losses yet to come.

You Are A Good Egg

Willy Wonka Theology

Good Egg

You Are A Good Egg (Willy Wonka Theology)

By Beth Demme

Remember Veruca Salt? The spoiled brat who got to tour Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory? Her tour ends in the Golden Egg Room. She runs all over the room, having a fit and making a mess because Wonka won’t sell her father a Golden Goose. Her tirade ends when she stands on an Eggdicator. The needle swings all the way to “Bad Egg,” and WHOOSH! Down she goes toward the incinerator. (Watch it here.)

Veruca Salt was a bad egg.

Jesus never tells a parable about a bad egg, but he does talk about bad seed.

In Matthew 13:24‑30, 36-40, Jesus compares the kingdom of heaven to a field where a farmer sows good seed, but an enemy sneaks in at night and sows bad seed. The farmer sows wheat, but the enemy sows the seed for a bearded darnel. A bearded darnel (or tare, or noxious weed, or thistle, depending on your translation) is a plant that looks almost identical to wheat until it’s fully matured.

The field workers offer to pull up the weeds, but the farmer says, “No; in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them. Let both of them grow together until the harvest.” (Matthew 13:29-30)

We Christians like to think of ourselves as the good seed, and maybe we are, but I think we also try to be the field hands.  We want to go in and pull up the weeds in the kingdom of God. Jesus tells us in this parable quite directly, “that’s not your job.” He says he and the angels will sort all of that out at the right time. (Matthew 13:39)

Jesus says to let bad eggs, like Veruca Salt and worse, mix with the good eggs.

Check Your Soil

Seeds of Love Have Been Sown In You

Seeds of Love Have Been Sown In You

By Beth Demme

I know many people who have beautiful stories about their conversion to Christianity.  I love those stories!  However, I don’t have a story like that. Not exactly.

Because I grew up in the church, I don’t have a day circled in red on the calendar that marks my “before Jesus” and “after Jesus” time. My whole life has included faith, belief, and Christian practices.

Even though I grew up in church, there was a time when I didn’t understand what it meant to be loved unconditionally by God.

I thought God loved me the way I loved other people. I didn’t love people who hurt me or rejected me. I only loved those who loved me first. I offered conditional love, and I assumed God did the same.

There’s a wonderful verse in Ephesians that says, “I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may … grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ.” (Ephesians 3:17-18)

For a long time, I did not grasp this or even know to reach for it.

To be rooted in the love of Christ, we first need a seed. In the parable of the Sower, Jesus describes sowing seed in four different kinds of soil. (Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23) Thinking about this parable helped me see that throughout my life my spiritual soil has changed. I think at different times I’ve had all four kinds of soil.

Even when the soil of my life wasn’t healthy, Jesus kept sowing seeds of love. [Twitter Link]

In the parable, there is one sower and one seed, the only variable is the condition of the soil. The seed is sown on a hard path (Matthew 13:4), rocky ground (Matthew 13:5), thorny ground (Matthew 13:7), and, finally, healthy soil (Matthew 13:8).

God Chooses You


God Chooses You

By Beth Demme

Last week I shared my thoughts on how some Christians take on legalism and judgmentalism instead of the yoke Jesus offers. Like the Pharisees, they focus on the letter of the law instead of the spirit of the law. I think Jesus releases us from the prison of self-righteousness. We don’t have to try to decide who is in and who is out. We aren’t limited by the judgment of other people, or by our inner critic, because we are covered by the love of God.

I think Jesus releases us from the prison of self-righteousness. We don’t have to try to decide who is in and who is out. We aren’t limited by the judgment of other people, or by our inner critic, because we are covered by the love of God.

There’s another aspect of taking on Jesus’ yoke that I think is worth considering. When we choose to wear the yoke of Jesus, we are yoking ourselves to him. If you picture two oxen yoked together, you get the idea. As long as the oxen are willing to work together, they’ll share the load and they’ll plow nice straight lines, and easily carry heavy loads, right?

Us, too. When we are yoked to Jesus our load is lighter, our burden is eased.

But think about what that means.

Wearing the Right Yoke Leads to Freedom

Rejecting Bad Billboard Theology


Wearing the Right Yoke Leads to Freedom

By Beth Demme

“Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-29

Jesus says the way to find rest in our souls—in the deepest part of ourselves—is to take on his yoke. When I picture an ox burdened with a yoke and pulling a plow, I don’t think the ox feels rested or restful. And yet, Jesus says that’s what he offers us.

It turns out, a yoke is designed to make it easier for the ox to do more, with less effort. But wearing the right yoke is important. If we wear the wrong yoke, the work will be difficult, maybe impossible.

Despite this, some Christians want to wear the wrong yoke.

They seem to think that what Jesus offers is to too easy and too free to be real. Instead of taking on the yoke Jesus offers, they take on the yoke of legalism, moralism, or what I would describe as empire (though they might simply call it politics).

I’ve been on the road a lot in recent weeks, especially on the interstates of Florida. Along I-75 and I-95 there are billboards proclaiming, “REAL Christians obey the teachings of Jesus.” And, yes, there is a special emphasis on the word “REAL.”

Messy Beautiful

Messy Beautiful

Messy Can Be Beautiful

By Beth Demme

My daughter is an artist. She has always had an eye for shape and color and an incredible ability to understand spatial relationships. I find her skills especially amazing because they are so different from my own.

Spatial relationships–and all things geometrical–are fairly mysterious to me.

I remember feeling utter confusion as a child looking at the night sky. It looked two-dimensional to me. My parents assured me the stars were spread out in every direction, but the whole scene looked like a dot-to-dot puzzle on a flat piece of paper. I couldn’t comprehend the depth of space.

But God Prayers

But God

But God Prayers

By Beth Demme

Sometimes it comes out as a whine. “But God, I’ve been waiting for so long.” Other times, regrettably, it comes out like a toddler-style tantrum, “But God, that’s not what I want (or how I wanted it)!” Sometimes it comes out like a plea, “I hear you, but God, please help me!”

These are “but God” prayers.

My prayer life over the last year has sounded something like this:

  • “But God, I’m not smart enough to serve as a pastor.”
  • “But God, Stephen and I already have a plan for the next phase of our life.”
  • “But God, Seminary is expensive.”
  • “But God, I’m waaaaaaay too old to go back to graduate school now.”

In response to my whining, God has given me opportunities to teach, each one building up —and on— a base of knowledge. He’s given Stephen and I both a sense of excitement about serving a congregation. God has also revealed ways to pay for Seminary. And about the age thing? I recently had the chance to celebrate the life of a law school classmate who was fifty-two years my senior. When we started law school I was only 20 years old and Joe was 72. Can you guess who made the better lawyer? (Hint: It wasn’t me.) I was sad to attend Joe’s funeral, but it was a potent reminder that age is no excuse.

A Pivotal Pivot

Understanding that God is at work in my life has changed my but God in an important way. Instead of “but God” it’s now “but God.” I’ve pivoted from saying “but God, I can’t,” to understanding, “I can’t, but God can.” In fact, as I’ve tried to understand my call into ministry, I’ve written that very phrase in my journal over and over again, “I can’t, but God can.”

Why I Mumble the Lord’s Prayer


Why I Mumble the Lord’s Prayer

By Beth Demme

I love it when we recite the Lord’s Prayer in worship, but recently I started mumbling it. On purpose.

Our Father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come,
thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory,
forever. Amen.

I used to say it loudly, articulating each word. I used the power of my voice to declare my prayer to God. I saw it as a personal moment of prayer between me and God. I wanted God to know that I really meant what I was saying. I didn’t intentionally speak louder than those around me, but I have a big voice and, in retrospect, I probably drowned them out more than once.

Then one Sunday morning, as we transitioned from the pastoral prayer to the Lord’s Prayer (as we say in my church: praying as Jesus taught us to pray), I didn’t declare it loudly. I’m not sure why. Maybe I was two beats behind, still contemplating the prayer the pastor had just shared. Or maybe I was grumpy and didn’t feel like praying. Maybe I had a sore throat. Or maybe the Holy Spirit moved to silence me. I’m not sure why, but I didn’t declare it in my big voice that day.

And a wonderful thing happened.

In my own silence, I heard the prayers of my friends being lifted up. I heard the voices of the congregation offering this prayer to God, instead of declaring this prayer to God. I was struck by how different those two can be, a prayer that is offered instead of a prayer that is declared.

As I listened to those around me say this prayer in their collective voice, I also understood myself differently. I felt the truth of what it means to be part of something bigger than myself, a  community of worshippers. I understood myself to be part of the whole body of Christ.

In an instant, I realized being one part of a whole does not diminish me in any way. I am no less myself when I am part of the body of Christ. When I’m part of a community of worshippers I experience the truth of God’s love and the breadth of God’s grace as I see it shared among others.

Since that Sunday, I’ve started mumbling the Lord’s Prayer. Hearing those around me lift this prayer to God energizes me in a way that declaring this prayer to God in my own, solitary voice couldn’t.

I’m not energized because I think God tallies prayers like votes or calculates prayers like poll numbers.

Mumbling the Lord’s Prayer and embracing myself as part of the whole energizes me because I see others allowing God to work in them and through them, and that gives me hope that God will work in me and through me.

It’s encouraging to understand I’m only one of many who say God’s name is to be hallowed and who invite God’s will to be done here as it in heaven. We, together, ask God to provide for our daily bread and forgive us for our mistakes against others. As a collective, we ask God to show us how to forgive others and to protect us from temptation and evil. Together we declare that we know the kingdom, the power, and the glory are God’s forever. Amen.

What about you? Do you declare the Lord’s Prayer? Do you feel like you are part of the whole body of Christ? Tell me about it in the comments, in an e-mail, or on Facebook.

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