It is good to go to the house of the Lord...

I love the Church.  Not necessarily individual church buildings or gatherings, but the Church Universal. That's probably a good thing since I'm in seminary and heading towards a career serving the Church in some capacity.
Sometimes things happen at churches that are extra special, like baptisms.  I love baptisms.  On Sunday we had a number of baptisms at First, and they weren't all infants!  (RCA tradition says that infants are baptized. Non-infant baptism usually indicates a new believer). As usual I took some pictures that I'm going to share.  The pictures are a little blurry/grainy, but I did my best.  And to make this particular baptism Sunday even more special, people in India were involved too!

  Two new families joined our church this morning and were welcomed into membership.

These two families presented their infants for baptism.  For some reason none of the elders were real excited about teaching this particular baptismal  class.  On the left, both parents hold Ph.D's in Biblical Studies/Theology and are professors at the seminary. Below, both parents hold the title "Reverend".  Not at all intimidating!

Reuben Alagar (above) and Nathaniel Thomas (right) are welcomed into the Body of Christ through the Sacrament of Baptism.

Reuben's paternal grandparents couldn't make the journey from India to be part of their grandson's baptism, but thanks to the wonders of technology they were brought in via Skype to watch the baptism.  The entire service was being streamed so that they could feel as if they were there, even though they were in India.

After the infants were baptized, a young person (kneeling on the right) was baptized.  It always excites me so much when a young person is baptized.  I mean, all baptisms excite me, but when it is a young person or an adult, I know they have made a decision for themselves and that makes me happy.

After the baptisms were finished, a young person made her profession of faith.  She is kneeling by the fount (on the left).  Members of the congregation were invited to come lay hands on her and pray for her as the Pastor and her best friend (who invited her to church!) offered out-loud prayers for her.  I love to see the body of Christ coming together in this way.  Young and old, everyone is there committing to this young person to continue to disciple her and guide her.

After all the baptisms were finished and we had welcomed all of our new members, Reuben's grandfather prayed for us.  I have no idea what he said since he prayed in his heart language, but it was beautiful.  Later that evening I preached on the topic of the body of Christ and this was a beautiful picture: believers around the world coming together to celebrate the sacraments, even though they are separated by many, many, many, miles.

After everything was said and done, I got some good Nathaniel cuddle time in. He was very content just to sit and lounge in my arms, looking around at the people at his baptism party. He was most content when I kept moving and bouncing him a bit.  (His legs really weren't purple...It's just a weird reflection from my shirt.  Honest, I was not cutting off any circulation!)

A2CW: Addicted to Christian Weed

Do you ever start to think about something and then think about something else and eventually end up right back where you started?  That’s a spruce loop.  Some people might call it rabbit trail, but spruce loop is the far better term.   Besides, spruce trees smell better than rabbit poop any day of the week.

Anyhow, we were driving home from some place the other day and I was thinking about a particular time in which I’d gotten lost.  It was a time when I really ought to have known my way, but because of the state my brain was in during that period of my life and because I’d taken some prescription medication that exacerbated the condition, I was in no position to give even the simplest directions (think drunk and high). Anyhow, while I was thinking about that event my brain stumbled upon another event from close to the same time period in my life...

It feels like half a lifetime ago, though in reality it was only about 7 or 8 years ago or so, so about a third of my lifetime ago really.  I hung out with some pretty awesome people that summer.  And by pretty awesome, I mean super awesome.  I don’t know where all of them are now, and that makes me sad, but so goes life. I miss them though and think of them all often.  The ones I have stayed in touch with are mostly married now and some even have children of their own.  There are a few of us left that I know of who are still single.  Often, I wish we could go back to that summer, share what we shared then.

Life was in many ways easier then. We dealt with some pretty crazy stuff that summer, but now, looking back, it seems like such little things compared to all that has happened since then.  That summer, I hadn’t yet learned how to deal with a high school student who was suicidal.  My struggle with an eating disorder and depression hadn’t quite begun yet, though it did follow not overly long afterwards.  I didn’t have a clue what life with seizures was like.  I had no idea what feelings would run through my mind when a doctor would tell me that I was potentially terminal (he was wrong by the way). The struggles we had, although they seemed major then, and some of them were fairly major, all shrink in comparison to everything that has happened since then (and there is a whole bunch I’m not sharing in this public of a forum).  And that’s okay.  That’s not was this is about.  Just a bit of explanation as to why that summer feels like half a lifetime ago.  Think of it has a mini spruce loop.

That summer I was introduced to Christian Weed.  In fact, of the many quotes that graced our quote board (which I almost want to pull out and read, but it’s packed away and I’m tired), one of the few I can remember right now, off the top of my head, is “A2CW” which stood for “Addicted to Christian Weed”.  (The other one I can remember is “Jesus thinks you’re cool” or JTYC), and that is what I began thinking about as I thought about being lost - Christian Weed.

Christian Weed was how we referred to that feeling we got after an all night prayer vigil or a spontaneous session of worship or a time of intense prayer.  It was that feeling of being so filled with the spirit that it overflowed and bubbled out of us, making us laugh uncontrollably or jump and sing with complete abandon, the joy of the Lord that made us completely undignified before our King. That feeling was so addicting, our hunger for the Lord was so strong, that we would do whatever it took to get back to that place and stay in it.  Although there was nothing wrong with that, in fact, there was so much good about it, I wonder though, if maybe perhaps we were a little misguided.

We were addicted to Christian weed. We were searching for one spiritual high after another, always trying to experience that again.  But, like with any drug, no high is ever as high as the first one.  Perhaps it would have been better if we were truly addicted to Jesus, not just to Christian weed.  I’m not saying we weren’t addicted to Jesus, for there is no doubt in my mind that we were all crazy about Jesus.  Our addiction to Jesus is what led us to Christian weed in the first place (Does that make Jesus a gateway drug?), but somehow I think our focus, or at least mine, got shifted away from Jesus and more to towards Christian weed and the feelings that went with worshiping Jesus.  The problem with that is, feelings aren’t always reliable.  When depression took over (and nearly took) my life shortly thereafter, I couldn’t get that high.  No matter how hard I sought it, I couldn’t get the Jesus high.  I couldn’t get high about anything.  I could seek that high all I wanted, but I could never get there.  Instead of seeking Jesus and longing for him, I longed for Christian weed. 

Now, even though my fight with depression has been mostly won (every now and then it rears its ugly head), that habit is sometimes still there.  Sometimes I still find myself longing for a hit of Christian weed.  I search long and hard after it, instead of searching long and hard after Jesus, the only one who can really give me that high.

I don’t blame anyone for that habit.  In fact, I think I have learned a lot from it.  I also cannot say that everyone from that summer had the same experience.  Even though we were all in the same place, we didn’t necessarily have the same experience.  My experience is valid only for me.

Which brings me full circle to where I started.  Sometimes, my brain loses focus and I get lost.  I start searching for what I want instead of what I know I need.  It’s simple, something I’ve known for a long time, but I still can’t always remember it.  The time I was remembering about getting lost (the story at the very beginning of this post) was when I was trying to give someone directions from my high school to home.  I should have known that.  I had known it for a long time, but because my brain was on a binge, I couldn’t do it.  

When my brain and spirit long after a hit of Christian weed I forget that all I really need to do is turn to Jesus and long after him instead.  In the end, He’ll be better than any hit and He will keep me from getting lost. And even when I do get lost, He'll still be there to guide me back to the right path, to get me home even when  I can no longer help myself.

Perhaps it's time to say goodbye to Christian weed and figure out some sort of catchy slogan that communicates an addiction to Jesus instead of to feelings.

And perhaps it is also time to conclude this particular spruce loop.

What's in a name?

As I talked with people at church Sunday morning before the service started, I was approached by someone who had known me for a long time.  We shook hands and he expressed how good it was to see me again (when I'm away at school I don't attend my home church.  I'm only there a couple Sundays total during the school year).  We made small talk for awhile and then he said "I hear you're called Joy now." (He, like most people at my home church, have known me only by the name my parents gave me, Joellen)  I explained to him that I had been called Joy ever since I left for college and that it was really only people at home who still called me Joellen. He smiled, winked at me and told me it fit me.
The exchange reminded me of something I had been thinking on for a few weeks. Names.  What is in a name?
In Old Testament class we had to learn a lot of names and people kept changing their names or having their names changed by G-d  and other people lived into their names providing irony of sorts.  What follows is a non-comprehensive list of some examples.
Names changed
Abram (exalted father) had his name changed to Abraham (father of many) when he made a covenant with G-d (Gen. 17:5).
Jacob's name was changed to Israel after he wrestled with G-d (Gen 32:28).
Naomi (pleasant) changed her name to Mara (bitter) after her husband and sons died (Ruth 1:20... this didn't really catch on though)
Saul's name was changed to Paul sometime after his experience on the Damascus road (Acts 13:13 is the first time I see him being called Paul...I know it's a NT reference, but it fits where I want to go with this post)
Living into names
Malachi's name meant "my messenger" and provides some irony of sorts in Malachi 3:1, which our English translations render "I will send my messenger").
Ruth means "faithful friend" and fits Ruth perfectly, especially when she professes her faithfulness in Ruth 1:16-17.

Names mean something, especially names that are changed.  A name is a reflection of some essence of a person. In sign language, when someone is given a sign name, it often reflects something about them (not always, mine is very simple, given to me by an interpreter in the special education room after she had known me for about 30 seconds).  I have a friend named Bruce.  His sign name reflects the fact that he is wheelchair bound.  One of my sisters is really into horses.  Her sign name is a combination of her initial letter and the sign for horse.  I have a friend who has the gift of healing.  His name is a combination of his initial letter and the sign "to heal".   All their names reflect some essence of them, just like Abraham means "father of  many" and Malachi means "my messenger".
With both Abraham and Malachi, the name itself came before the meaning came into fulfillment.  Abraham was Abraham long before he was the father of any, let alone many.  I think the same is true of my name.  There was no angelic messenger or voice from heaven that changed my name.  It was a process. Initially, it was changed to "Joy" (or something very similar) in Africa because the children couldn't say "Joellen".  When I cam back from Africa it morphed into "Joyellen" and then it went back and forth between the three for some time, until I left for college.  That is when I became "Joy" for good, at least most the time.
Coincidently (or maybe not so coincidently) my journey to being able to live in true joy followed a similar path.  It wasn't something that happened all at once, but slowly, over time, step by step I learned to live in true joy.  And now, I can (at least most the time) agree when people say my name fits me.  I might not always be happy.  Sometimes I'm sad, frustrated, hurting, angry and a million other things, but nothing will ever take my joy away.  Besides, with a name like Joy...well, let's just say that if there is a pun to be made on my name or a song to be sung about joy, I've probably heard it and smile every time I hear it again.  And while we're on the subject of names, my journey to Joy/joy happened, in part, in Pella, which means "city of refuge".  Fitting, yes?

And some song lyrics to close this post out (sorry...it got really long.  I have lots of thoughts on names).  This song was sung in church about a month ago.  I scribbled the lyrics down into my journal while it was being sung, so have some grace if the words aren't quite right.
"I will change your name.
You shall no longer be called
wounded, outcast, lonely or afraid.
I will change your name.
Your new name shall be
confidence, joyfulness, overcoming one,
faithfulness, friend of G-d, one who seeks my face"
In the Old Testament reference above, it wasn't usually the people who changed their names.  G-d changed their names and their lives.  G-d did the same with me.  He gave me a new name and a new joy. All glory, honor, and praise be to Him!

Baptism

"As surely as water washes away the dirt from the body, so certainly his blood and his Spirit wash away my soul's impurity, in other words, all my sins" (Q&A 69, Heidelberg Catechsim)
Today was a good day.  A very good day. Every spring the chaplain (Joe B) here at Central does baptisms out at Lake Red Rock. I kind of get excited about baptisms and this year I was more excited than usual.  Let me back track a bit...
October 2008:
I have a dream about a beautiful baptism ceremony that was preceeded by the weirdest and coolest funeral I have ever seen.  It was my funeral that I had seen, but it was weird because I was present and participating in the funeral.  It was also weird because it was happening here at school with school people, not the home people.  Immediately after I was buried, I was baptized by immersion and there was a huge celebration.  (If you want to see the original write-up on the dream with more detail, let me know...not going to put it here because it would make this post super long).  My take away from the dream was 2 Corinthians 5:17: "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!"
November 2008:
I start having seizures.  I forget about my dream and start adapting to and trying to figure out life with seizures.
fast forward to February 2010:
We talk about baptism in one of my classes.  I am overwhelmed with the powerful symbolism of baptism by immersion. I feel a tugging inside to be baptized by immersion and express this to a trusted friend.  The only catch is that I have already been baptized and the RCA does not re-baptize people.  We pray about it and sit on the idea.
April 2010:
The idea of baptism has come up a few more times and I've been wrestling with it a lot.  I think the symbolism is powerful and I feel an unexplainable longing for it, but I don't need to be baptized because it was already done when I was an infant.  I can't come to peace with it theologically. Joe B talks about baptism at Sunday night worship and encourages anyone who wants to participate in the Red Rock baptisms to talk to him.  I'm still not at peace with it, so I don't talk to him about it.
April 26, 2010:
Our speaker in Pre-Min talks about doing baptisms for people who have already been baptized in the spirit of remembering what has already been done. He likened it to people renewing wedding vows.  You don't renew wedding vows because they didn't work they first time, but because they did and you want to celebrate that.  I spend considerable time pondering this.
May 5, 2010:
8pm: I have a long talk with a trusted friend and the idea of baptism comes up.  I tell him that I was not going to be baptized because I could not come to peace with it thoelogically. 
9pm: InterVarsity large group worship...our leader (Jordan) invites anyone who feels that they have undergone some sort of transformation this year and is interested in being baptized to talk to him after worship. 
10:30pm:  Worship is over and I have a lot on my mind.  I don't go talk to Jordan, I sit and think.  A friend comes and asks me what is on my mind...I tell her about my wrestling with baptism.  She goes and gets Jordan and I go through it all again.  Jordan sees the theological issues with re-baptism, but is in favor of celebrating the amazing things G-d has done in my life this year.  He encourages me to talk to two other people who have been spiritual leaders in my life this year about it since they have been walking with me closer.
midnight: I'm back in my room, praying about the idea of baptism and remember the dream from October 2008.  I go back in my journal and read the original write up and somewhere inside it clicks that the reason Joe B was baptizing me in the dream was because maybe it was supposed to happen that way.  I share my dream with some friends and they get excited about it.
May 6, 2010:
10:30am:  I talk with the first person Jordan mentioned and she agrees with Jordan.  Theologically, re-baptism is not sound, but celebrating and remembering my first baptism is.  She thinks it's a good idea (or at least not a bad one) but encourages me to talk to Joe B (same as Jordan).
3pm:  It is Tulip Time in Pella and Joe B is real busy.  I catch him for a moment and give him a very very brief summary of the last 24 hours and a briefer summary of rest the year.  His response is that he wants to spend some time praying about it.
May 8, 2010:
8am:  I get an e-mail indicating that Red Rock baptisms are happening on Sunday.  I still have not heard from Joe B.
5pm:  It is still Tulip Time and we are all still really busy.  I catch up with Joe B at the carpet ball tables and we have a very brief conversation. He re-iterates that re-baptism is not theologically sound and I agree. However, he is willing to celebrate what G-d has been doing in my life and remember my first baptism.  He encourages me to ask some friends who have been fighting for/with me and standing with me to come out with me.  People show up for carpet ball and our conversation is over.
May 9, 2010:
7am: I am awake and excited.  It's gonna be a good day.
9am: I'm having trouble focusing in church because I'm so excited.
5pm: I have the feeling kind of like what you get when you are backstage on opening night and you know the house is packed...excited and nervous all at the same time.  The temperature is starting to drop again and it's clouding over.
6:30pm: Kari meets me at my room and we go over to the chapel to carpool out to Red Rock.
7pm: Party time!

We all stand on the beach while Joe talks some about baptism and Megan is baptized.  Hooray for new believers!

Chelsea and Sara help me out into the water where Joe B, Niki and Kari are waiting.  It's a great picture of the community that has meant so much to me in my walk here...I'm never walking alone. We are ready to celebrate the rememberance of my first baptism and the awesome stuff G-d has been doing in my life.

My baptism is celebrated and remembered and Joe B, who has been walking with me for 4 years gets a huge hug.

Lots of hugging and celebrating ensued...those of us who were wet wrapped up in towels and blankets...those who were dry got happy wet hugs.

Back on campus for the last Sunday night worship of the semester (and of my undergrad career) and a dry photo with my amazing friends and warriors.

G-d is good, so very very good!  I am so filled with joy right now...not other words describe it...those of you who know me well know I don't generally make puns on my own name...but that's the only way to describe how I feel.  Joyful.

The next three days are going to be papers and project and finals for me...and packing.  Graduation on Saturday, head for home Sunday...no matter where I go, I will never walk alone.

Returned-short version

This is a shorter version of the previous post.
We returned safely from New Orleans (NOLA) last night.  The trip had its ups and downs, but was overall very good.  I'm still a little tired and not necessarily completely coherent.
Here's a quick recap of the trip:
Friday night/Saturday: Travel to NOLA, settling in at the two churches where we would be staying.
Sunday:  Church in Slidell, alligator watching, St. Patrick's day Parade, tour of NOLA, College student Walmart run.
Monday: First day of work projects, spontaneous hymn sing at the big chuch before we left for work projects.  Crawfish night.  I learned that I am very very allergic to crawfish and that I have great friends who will take me to the hospital and make sure I get taken care of.
Tuesday: Second day of work projects.  Due to my benadryl and steroid cocktail I slept most of the day.  Amazing small group and worship time about resting in G-d's arms.  Found out I'd been accepted to Western for next year!
Wednesday: Third day of work projects.  Again I slept most of the day.  College students fed the homeless and went out for dinner.
Thursday: Fourth and last day of work projects.  I was awake for more of the day, but still slept most of the afternoon. We left for home at about 11:30pm.
Friday: driving home all day.  Again, I slept for most of it. Arrived safely back in Pella at about 5:30 pm, just in time for it to start snowing.

Work projects:
Gerald's house: siding, flooring, hot water heater, weeding-finished. Hallelu-JAH!
Arthur's house: painting the porch, staining the floor, replacing screens, replacing glass in the door- finished.  Hallelu-JAH!
Slidell church: landscaping, weeding, planting shrubberies, mulching-finished.  Hallelu-JAH!
Thrift store: not sure, painted a mural on the wall, did other stuff-finished.  Hallelu-JAH!
Other church: painted and other stuff- finished.  Hallelu-JAH!
Other projects: dirt moving, soffitting, painting, weeding, etc- finished.  Hallelu-JAH!

If you want more details, read the long version of this post.

Consider it pure joy...

Somedays it is easier than others to take to heart the words written in the letters to the early church.  Repeatedly both James and Paul urge believes to "consider it pure joy" when they face trials (James) and to "rejoice in our sufferings" (Paul, in the letter to the Romans) and to "do everything without complaining" (Paul, in the letter to the Phillipians).  It goes on and on.  Somedays, these are easy words to live by.  Those are usually the days when things are going well and there relatively few rough spots. 
Then there are days like today.  Ben and I both brought home a bug from the hospital.  He was mostly over it by the time I got home, but we are assuming its a hospital bug since we are the only two who are sick and we are the only two who were in the hospital.  It's days like today, when you feel about as energetic as a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of a shoe, that it's hard.  It becomes easy to feel sorry for yourself and complain.
Then I read verses like these and it's like a slap in the face.  These early Christians knew what it was like to suffer.  They were actively persecuted for their faith.  If anyone knew suffering, it was these people.  If any one had reason to complain, it was these people.  Not only did they have all the cares of regular life (getting sick, kids who don't listen, losing their jobs, finding a way to put food on the table, etc) they were in danger of being killed for their faith.  Paul even wrote many of his letters from jail.  He had reason to complain.  But he didn't.  He rejoiced in the good and urged others to do the same.
It puts me to shame. I start complaining because I've been feeling lousy or because my teeth hurt from dental work or because my room is cold or because I didn't get what I wanted for Christmas or a thousand other petty things. 
I need to work on this.  It is definetely a spot where I have lots of room to grow.  My friends call me Joy, so I should live up to my name.  If Paul could rejoice from behind prison bars, surely there is a way for me to rejoice.
Consider it pure joy....