Obama and me: a common journey
[Official White House Photo: Pete Souza]
Yesterday morning, I tuned in to watch the National Prayer Breakfast online. I managed to catch the end of author Eric Metaxas' keynote, and then the President's address. I've always resonated with President Obama's expressions of his faith, even from when he was a Senator, and before he ran for president--from his keynote speech at the 2004 Democratic National Convention to the passages in Dreams from my Father. Yesterday, he drew upon several verses that form the foundation of my own engagement in politics, advocacy, and public life:
"Love your neighbor as yourself."
"To those whom much is given, much will be required."
"Speak up for those who cannot speak up for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute."
He continued:
Treating others as you want to be treated. Requiring much from those who have been given so much. Living by the principle that we are our brother’s keeper. Caring for the poor and those in need. These values are old. They can be found in many denominations and many faiths, among many believers and among many non-believers. And they are values that have always made this country great -- when we live up to them; when we don’t just give lip service to them; when we don’t just talk about them one day a year. And they’re the ones that have defined my own faith journey.
They're the ones that have defined my faith journey as well, which I shared when I graduated from Fuller Theological Seminary. I got to be one of the speakers at Commencement, and shared a little bit of my own journey:
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Meanwhile, over at the Sojourners blog, Wes Granberg-Michaelson, former General Secretary of the Reformed Church in America, shares his thoughts in a great response. Notably:
Money controls who gets elected and controls how laws and policies are made, I think, in utterly dangerous ways. More than ever, for those who gathered in prayer Thursday morning, money is power. And it’s the power of money in politics today that must be confronted — by people of faith — as a moral issue.
So I wondered (and prayed), where is the William Wilberforce of today, a leader who will take the message of the Bible to heart, rise up to confront the ways in which money enslaves our modern political life, lead a movement to end it, and then, one day, be celebrated for his or her courage and faithfulness to the gospel at a future prayer breakfast?
Even as we celebrate a common faith and shared values, we need to continue working to see these worked out in the world we inhabit.
Priorities
C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (Macmillan, 1960), 190:
Even in social life, you will never make a good impression on other people until you stop thinking about what sort of impression you are making. Even in literature and art, no man who bothers about originality will ever be original: whereas if you simply try to tell the truth (without caring two pence how often it has been told before), you will, nine times out of ten, become original without having noticed it. The principle runs through life from top to bottom. Give up yourself, and you will find your real self. Lose your life and you will save it. … Nothing that you have not given away will be really yours.
What are you focusing on?
Elmo and Love
Last night I finally got around to watching Being Elmo: A Puppeteer's Journey. It came highly recommended by many of my friends, and I wasn't disappointed. I'll admit that I've loved Elmo since I was a kid--at one point in middle school, I may have perfected Elmo's voice ... yeah, it absolutely got me all the girls.
Anyway, the documentary was a fascinating look at the life of Kevin Clash, the guy who made Elmo who he is today, from his humble beginnings in Baltimore to fulfilling his dreams of meeting and working with Jim Henson, bringing a voice and character to a fluffy red puppet who's familiar to us all, and now to his role as an executive producer on Sesame Street.
One of the things that struck me while watching it was the story of how Kevin developed Elmo's character. The first incarnation of Elmo was as a growly, gruff-voiced caveman-like creature who liked to cause mayhem, but it just wasn't working, and so fellow puppeteer Richard Hunt tossed Elmo into Kevin's lap and said, "He's all yours." Every puppet, he'd been told, has to have one thing that makes them, one characteristic that defines them.
Somehow, someway, Kevin discovered Elmo's: love.
Elmo is love personified. He loves everyone. He's all about affection: hugging, kissing, holding hands. He's all about making people feel loved, welcomed, included, appreciated. And that, I'd suggest, is why he's so popular. It's why kids love him; it's why, as Kevin relates, kids in Make-A-Wish-type situations ask for him; it's why he brings comfort to those in distress; it's why he brings joy to those experiencing sorrow.
Love.
Yes, I'm drawing a lesson from a furry red puppet and applying it to faith.
Because God is love. Jesus is love personified. And we're supposed to be the same way--that's what a follower does, right?
So what does it say about how we're living our lives, about how we're presenting Christ, about how we're representing God to a hurting, broken world, that we aren't received the same way, that we aren't in those same places, that we aren't bringing the comfort and welcome and joy of a loving God to those around us?
There is beauty in the world: Yosemite
I've been reading again through one of the books that changed my life, Brennan Manning's The Ragamuffin Gospel. One of his chapters talks about wonder, and he quotes Abraham Joshua Heschel, who said on his deathbed, "Never once in my life did I ask God for success or wisdom or power or fame. I asked for wonder, and he gave it to me."
Both Heschel and Manning lament that, "As civilization advances, [our] sense of wonder declines." Because we get so caught up in our plans and projects, our busyness and activity, with ourselves, that we forget to take time to bask, to celebrate God's glorious creation--"We grow complacent and lead practical lives. We miss the experience of awe, reverence, and wonder."
The video below is an absolutely stunning time-lapse video from Yosemite, taken by Sheldon Neill and Colin Delehanty. It was a reminder to me that there is so much beauty in the world, if I'll only take a second to step back, open my eyes, and look up.
A trip to Yosemite has definitely been added (bold and underlined) to my bucket list.
I’m on Aslan’s side
This Sunday, I'll be preaching from Daniel 3. I'm always challenged by the words of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in response to Nebuchadnezzar's threat of death by blazing furnace, because they demonstrate the kind of trust and faith I aspire toward:
If our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the furnace of blazing fire and out of your hand, O king, let him deliver us. But if not, be it known to you, O king, that we will not serve your gods and we will not worship the golden statue that you have set up. (vv.17-18)
C.S. Lewis, through the character of Puddleglum in The Silver Chair (book six in the Chronicles of Narnia series), draws this out yet further:
Suppose we have only dreamed or made up, all those things – trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones. Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours is the only world. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one. And that’s a funny thing, when you come to think of it. We’re just babies making up a game, if you’re right. But four [or more] babies playing a game can make a play-world which licks your real world hollow. That’s why I’m going to stand by the play-world. I’m on Aslan’s side even if there isn’t any Aslan to lead it. I’m going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn’t any Narnia … Not that our lives will be very long, I should think; but that’s a small loss if the world’s as dull a place as you say.