First Week of School

Today was my first class of the semester at Brite Divinity School and for one of my assignments, each student was given a wooden stake with a string attached.  We were sent outside to plant our stake and observe the world around it for 20 minutes.

After class I called Adam and told him about this and his first confused reaction wasn't fit to print. I loved, it though, and shared how much fun seminary education is for me.  I came back with a list of three extensive metaphors that I observed. (ants/church, big picture vs. small picture, orienting myself in the world) I was enlightened and invigorated by this activity.

My first day of school photo.

School is back in session and we are so far, humming along nicely.  Claire is so proud of her first binder with her list of assignments and special pockets for assignments.  Paul is excited that his second best friends are in his class.  He didn't get his first best friend, but he got his two second best friends.

I returned to tutoring on Monday and walked seven miles inside the building of my elementary school. I greeted new students and escorted families to new classes. I was able to calm some nerves and share positive insider information about each teacher.  A new teacher to this building is an old friend of mine.  We taught together seven years ago, so it was fun to see her.  She's still teaching third grade, although at a new school.  I didn't get a chance to tell her all the life changes I've made in that period of time.

On Tuesday I started getting more comfortable (read: anxious and starting to worry) with some new responsibilities that have come my way.  I will now be coordinating some of the children's ministry at my church.  I'm also about to start working on video announcements.

Today was Brite. Today was seminary. I was so excited that I almost cried when I had to introduce myself. I looked at the ceiling instead.

I thought I'd have to hurry to Weatherford to make it in time for a meeting, but thankfully I was offered a break. Instead, I went to the TCU library and was able to check out two of my textbooks that I was lacking. I was gifted some free moments and saved $50 in the process.

For the return of the school rhythm, we are thankful. For the return of books and buddies, we are grateful. For newness in our lives, we are contented.  For strange assignments with sticks and dirt, I give thanks.

The End of Summer: Change

Today is the last weekday of summer, and we are all rejoicing around here.  We've had fun, but each member of our family functions better on a normal routine.

This last week has been difficult and more than once I've seen myself in a frustrated mom at a store. I had the chance to go to Whole Foods Market by myself this week, and passed a mom who was looking at her son telling her, "You are just driving me crazy today! If you can't get it together, we're going to have to go home, because I just cannot deal with it!"

I'd like to tell you that sounded foreign to me, that I haven't ever said that, much less this week, but I would be lying. I said about the same thing yesterday when I was ordering at Chick-fil-A and Paul felt the need to jump onto the counter and put his feet on the same place they serve food.

Claire and Paul playing Headbands two days after the car door incident.

Change is coming, and we are all ready for it. The anticipation of back to school has me counting down the minutes and the kids ricocheting off of anything they can bump into.

On Monday we had some fun at home, went bowling, and then went grocery shopping. I go to several stores to get the best prices, so the kids were frustrated toward the end. At Aldi, Paul jumped repeatedly onto and off the bagging counter. When we left, he decided he needed to go into Claire's side of the car, even though his door works perfectly fine. She was not okay with that, so she slammed the door.  His finger tips were still in the door when she shut it, and for a few seconds he was screaming and I was struggling to understand what was going on.

His hand was fine after ice; it didn't even bruise. I told Claire that it was good she was in the backseat and I was in the front because she would receive the spanking of her life if I wasn't driving. Instead of spanking her, I called Adam and asked for a solution. He came up with a great one. For the next 24 hours, Claire had to serve Paul. She had to buckle him up in his seat belt, she had to open doors, she had to draw his bathwater, make his bed, pour his cereal and milk, and on and on. She was frustrated with it, and Paul was eating it up. By the next morning he was telling her things like, "I need to use the restroom. Can you please come lift the toilet seat?"  I assured Claire that was not part of her punishment and that he could do it himself.

Last night was Meet the Teacher night and we were pleased to deliver our school supplies and shake the teachers' hands. Paul will have the same teacher Claire did in first grade (Hooray!) and Claire has the teachers we anticipated (also exciting!). Claire wrote a letter to her new third grade teacher to introduce herself.  It made me smile to see what she thought was important to include. "I don't think I'll say that I'm smart, because they'll read this and know. I'm going to write about the dogs."

I love my children. I enjoy spending time with them. I also love them in the normal pattern that the school day provides.

So starting Monday, we'll get back to our full-swing routine. Paul will be in first grade, Claire's in third, and I will be tutoring part time as well as working at a church part time as well as taking two graduate courses. It sounds insane, but somehow I have faith it will all work out.

I've also linked this blog post up at Five Minute Friday. Find it here.

Tuesday Thanks

Here is what I'm thankful for today:

1. Distilled White Vinegar
Last week the coffeemaker was sputtering coffee and taking nearly half an hour to complete its cycle.  I ran vinegar through it a few times and it's as good as new this morning.  (Note: Don't forget to follow the vinegar with a few cycles of water.)  On Saturday we played in the pool and Sunday my ears sounded underwater.  They're not completely back to normal, but creating my own eardrops from vinegar and alcohol greatly improved the situation.

2. Books with characters so real they become family
When I was in college, my friend Sonja introduced me to the Outlander series written by Diana Gabaldon.  I just finished the latest book. I love each beast of a book; this one was more than 800 pages.  However, I read about one a year from the list and they are so well-written that picking up one makes me feel at home.
I also read Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone to the kids this past week. It was so fun to read to them and listen to their excitement at each page.  We finished yesterday and went and bought the movie.  The kids critiqued each scene to see how much it aligned with the book. I was so proud experiencing their new-found passion for these books I've loved for a long time.

3. Dickies' changeless uniforms
Except at weddings and funerals, my grandfather wears the same outfit daily.  He used to be a electric line repairman and when he retired, his uniform didn't.  He wears a khaki work shirt and khaki work pants every day.  A couple of weeks ago he decided he needed something new.  His pants and shirts were becoming worn, so he wanted me to get him some new clothes that look exactly like the old ones.  I am so grateful that Dickies uniforms still look the same for all the years he's worn them.

4. Social Media in the Summer
Summertime is a different routine, and I am thankful that no matter my location or time, I can check in with some of my friends online. Although not a substitute for a live conversation, when I'm surrounded by children the entire day, it's nice to take some time to have some virtual conversations with adults.

5.  Helping friends
I am getting better about asking and receiving help in a variety of situations.  For childcare, for tuition, for helping me process my world, I am grateful for each of my friends that take time out of their day to help me. I'm also thankful that I am slowly realizing that sometimes when a friend helps me, it's not just a blessing for me.

6. Fall on the horizon
I am so excited for the approach the school year, for the kids and for me.  A steady routine helps us all.

7. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
I loved them in middle school and now my son is passionate about those sewer dwellers. It's so fun seeing the world through Ninja Turtle eyes. I have to laugh when I'm driving the car thinking about my to do list and find myself listening to a break-down of the latest Ninja Turtle episode.

8. Paul's basketball skills
Paul is playing basketball at the YMCA and he is a rock star. He is defending in an aggressive manner that is foreign to his personality. He strategically places himself under the basket for the rebound. He dribbles the ball down the court, he scores. He is exciting to watch.

9. Friendship bread
More than 10 years ago, a friend gave me a starter kit for some Amish friendship bread.  It takes 10 days to make a loaf.  I was unable to complete the first one.  But now a friend at church has shared a new one with me.  I hope, 10 years after my first attempt, that this one will be successful.  If so, I'll be sharing my own starter kit with my friends.

10. School supplies
Shopping for school supplies makes me happy.  Each unsharpened pencil is so full of promise.  Each package of paper is full of potential. I can't wait to see what this year brings.

Ivy and Faith

When I was a child, my grandparents had an ivy that hung in their den, right next to a window.  The vine spilled out of the hanging pot, down through the air, and along the carpet. It was about seven feet long and it often was in the way. When you bumped the pot, the tendrils would catch something and knock it over.  When you tripped over a tendril, the pot swayed precariously over your head.
My grandfather was proud of the ivy and its length.  He and my grandmother would cautiously water it and move the vine out of the walkway countless times.
One day a woman who was down on her luck offered to clean their house. My grandfather was in another room, oblivious, when tragedy struck. Thinking she was helping, the woman cut the vine to get it off the floor. That crime took place more than ten years ago, and if you ask my grandfather today, he would still shudder.  He was devastated that the ivy, so full of life, reaching out to far corners of the house, had been cut down in its prime.
Luckily the house cleaner saved her skin by keeping the vine. The sprig was placed in a vase of water in the kitchen window. My grandfather would occasionally have me top off the vase with water from the kitchen sink, but we never cut it.
My grandmother passed away and my grandfather's health began to decline. The vine in the pot suffered from neglect and eventually died. The sprig in the kitchen window continued to grow, however.  When he balanced against the kitchen sink to get a glass of water, my grandfather could water the ivy, too.  It continued to grow and the tendrils reached from the window sill to the kitchen counter.
Knowing how important the vine was, it was one of the first items I packed when my grandfather moved to his retirement apartment. I placed the ivy on his kitchen window sill, proudly displaying all its beautiful green leaves. I announced to my grandfather that the apartment felt like home now, especially with the ivy in his kitchen.
I returned the next week to check on how my grandfather was adjusting to life at the retirement home. He was fine, even socializing, but he told me to take the ivy to my own home.  He didn't have time to take care of it any longer.
Besides gardeners, my grandparents were also canners, and when we moved my grandfather, I rescued 20 antique Mason jars from the recycling bin.  So when I got home with his ivy, I knew exactly what to do. I filled a Mason jar with water, placed the ivy in it, and set it on my kitchen window.
The ivy flourished and despite my grandfather's pride at its length, I cut it and placed a second sprig in a second antique Mason jar.  When that grew, I did it again. The ivy kept growing, and I kept trimming it and placing the new sprig in a Mason jar.  One day I planted the sprig in a pot from my grandparents' house.
Several years later, I am almost to 10 Mason jars and one pot with the same ivy growing in them.  I place the ivy on top of my kitchen cabinets, and as soon as the tendrils start travelling downward, I cut them and start a new jar.
About the same time as my grandfather's move, a friend from church trimmed her ivy plant and offered me a sprig. She showed me her overflowing pot and told me her husband's ivy was going to take over the house.  I took my sprig home and potted it and I have a healthy plant at the back door.  Several months ago, her husband became ill and all attention was directed to him. The ivy in their
house was neglected and eventually died. Her husband's illness overtook him and he passed away as well. Last week when she visited our home, I was honored to remind her where my potted plant originated and offered her a sprig of her own ivy.
As a person of the Christian faith, Jesus' resurrection story in the Bible is essential to my faith. But I also recognize that the last page of that book is not the last word. My faith grows and also lives outside of the pages of the Bible. I see resurrection lived out every day in many ways.
When I look at my Mason jars of ivy, I am filled with love for my grandparents. When I look at my potted ivy, I fondly remember my church friend. The ivy reminds me of my faith and that the story is never over. We always have room to grow. Being put in a new jar gives us fresh water and a different place to reach out from.
Even though my grandfather was furious about the house cleaner that cut his ivy, the entire plant would be dead today if it hadn't been for her.  When she trimmed it and placed it in a vase, she allowed more growth to happen.  She allowed it to survive.  She was part of the resurrection story.  I am, too.

Five Minute Friday: Bloom

Each Friday, blogger mom Lisa Jo Baker invites writers to write on a prompt for five minutes and link up to her blog.  Since I've been out of my writing rhythm, I thought I'd contribute today.  Want to read her stuff? Click here.

Bloom

2014 has been a year of big changes for me. I entered seminary and we left our church home for my new job. I started recognizing my emotional and social needs and acting to fulfill them. I began to dream out loud and start working toward some life goals. I accepted help for tuition, childcare, and Sarah care. I can honestly say that I am happier today than I was one year ago today. I feel like I'm beginning to bloom.

I'm on the horizon of the rest of my life and I am so happy to be here. Summer is a difficult time for me emotionally. I don't have a set routine, I'm with the kids 24/7, and I feel adrift. My momentum from spring has carried over into summer, and I'm more grounded this summer than in years past.

One day a week, I schedule a stay-at-home day and we stick to it. We don't leave the house at all. This has given us all breathing space as well as time to play with ignored toys and complete some household projects. On the eve of our stay-at-home day, I remind the kids we won't be leaving the house the next day and they always cheer. I was reminded of the importance of our home when we went to Sea World this summer. Claire said, "This is my favorite place on Earth after our home!" I am so pleased that our children both recognize the home as a place of safety, comfort, and love.

I started my new job right before the end of the school year, so going to church to work or worship still has an allure of newness about it. I'm learning new tasks and the kids haven't explored every corner yet. One day a week a kind friend plays with them and another day a week I bring them to work with me.

This week I took some time to go back to Brite Divinity School to take care of housekeeping matters and remind myself that I am a student. I ordered my textbooks for the fall semester and delighted in the exciting titles, Our Search for Spirituality, African-American Spirituality, and others. I love basking in the learning environment there and surrounding myself with intelligent people of faith.  I can't wait for classes to resume in fall.

Since my entry into seminary was a suprise to everyone, even me, I didn't enter graduate school with a savings account to pay for tuition. I am baking my way through my degree, selling banana bread to raise tuition money. I am so thankful for friends that blessed me by buying a loaf of banana bread or offering a contribution. My first semester was debt-free and I am a few hundred dollars away from baking my way through a debt-free fall.  This week I've baked about 15 loaves.

Every summer I am in a frenzy to create new activities to keep us busy.  This year I've slowed down, and we have all benefitted from that. I'm not breaking my neck to rush us to an educational activity across town. I'm not rearranging our schedule to squeeze in an inconvenient trip to a local museum. This week I had planned on taking the kids to the art museum, but they both told me they'd rather stay home, so we did.  I've released my grip a bit on the schedule and life hasn't fallen into chaos. I've let many fun opportunities pass us by without regret.

The result of this throwing caution to the wind has been a happier home, blooming with life and love and smelling like banana bread. Now I'm off to bake some more.

Plumbing and Playing: Our summer so far

We're wrapping up the second week of summer around here.
Last week the kids had their last day of school, I worked two days, and we spent two days with our favorite plumbers.
We've had a slow draining shower, so Adam called Curly's Plumbing to snake it out. It turned out to be more than a slow drain; we had tree roots in the line.  So the plumbers jackhammered up the master bathroom floor and repaired the pipe.  This is the second time this year we've had to jackhammer up our foundation. We love these guys because they are good at what they do, but they are also so nice! They don't care if I take pictures of them every five minutes to send to Adam.  They also don't mind stopping countless times to explain to the kids what is going on.  I know when I'm working the last thing I want to do is stop to explain everything I'm doing.  But they do it!
The kids recently learned the term "plumber's butt" so they kept following the plumbers around the house to see if they had "plumber's butts." Both guys were wearing belts, though, so they were safe.

I had decided that this summer we will stay home at least one day a week. I say that every summer and then if an offer for something else comes by, we do it.  We never stay home for the entire day, so this year I mean it. It's easy to be at home, realize you need something and jump in the car and get it.  But every year that snowballs and I end up being gone the whole day instead of a few minutes. So last week with the plumbers we had to stay home, but I wandered through the house a little unsure of what I needed to do.  This week went much smoother.  The kids played the entire day and I worked on housework, taking intentional breaks.

Last weekend we travelled to Medieval Times to celebrate Paul's birthday. Luckily I was able to nab a teacher discount to make it more affordable.  The kids loved it and we even got to bring some friends.

Claire took her stuffed otter to the zoo to see a real river otter.

This week we've had a trip to the zoo and much birthday celebratoryness.  Adam and Paul's birthdays are only three days apart so that makes for a week of celebrations.  We went to Six Flags on Tuesday.

Yesterday was our stay-at-home day and it went much smoother. I worked on polishing the hard wood floors and baked Paul's birthday cake. The kids played nicely all day long. They didn't fight one time and I was amazed.

Today is Adam's birthday so we're not quite done celebrating. Even though I'm trying hard to slow down, summer is flying by!

Self-Care and Ice Cream

Recently I was talking to friend of mine who is single and childless. She was recounting an experience she had at the grocery store the night before. She witnessed a mother eating a giant ice cream cone, a parade of kids trailing behind her begging for a bite. "No!" She shouted at them. "It's my ice cream and I already gave you a bite!"
My friend was horrified at this cruelty. How could anyone buy a cone for themselves and not one for their children?
Of course I don't condone this behavior. However, I can see where the mother is coming from.
Sometimes as mothers we feel a little spent and empty. I find the same problem happens in those who are caregivers in other situations, like teachers or health care providers.  Anyone whose life focus is serving others is susceptible.  You feel like you give and give and give and so when something comes your way, whether it be an ice cream cone, a coupon, a piece of cake, or a pack of pencils, you covet it dramatically.
When I was a full-time teacher we often had cake in the lounge for various occasions.  Several teachers would visit the lounge multiple times and get more pieces of the same cake because they felt they worked hard and deserved a reward.
The problem is that the ice cream or extra cake doesn't fill the person's need for acceptance and appreciation and renewal. Many of us don't know how to care for our selves. Self-care is something I am slowly learning to do.
At the end of last summer I found myself in that place, feeling as if every moment of my day was in service to someone else. I know that's not actually true; I have a supportive husband and many friends. But I felt like I was empty and a little lost.
I had lunch with a friend and we decided that it was okay for me to take one time a week to do something for me. That permission I gave myself changed my perspective.
My Sarah events take many different forms, but I try to do something once a week for me. Sometimes it means I take a long lunch with a friend. Sometimes it means I spend some time reading a book. I have started scheduling regular coffee or dinner dates with friends. This week my event was spending an evening at our church listening and chatting with friends we've known for years. I also do a lot of journaling, prayer, and I'm more intentional about what I read.  I also write long emails to loved ones.
Giving myself permission to stop work and caring for others for even a few minutes has been freeing to me.
Currently I'm working through the book The Mother's Guide to Self-Renewal and although I'm only on chapter 2, I'm finding this book resonates with my place in life right now.  (If anyone wants to read this as well, I'd be interested in discussing it with you!)
When I'm at my Sarah-event I am joyful and light. Once I get back to my real life with kids and jobs and studies, I am more willing to serve and more present. Once I've taken care of myself, I'm happy and able to share my ice cream, down to the last bite of cone.

End of the School Year Blitz

It's almost the last day of school in Fort Worth and we were honored to have both children attend Bruce Shulkey Elementary this year. We love our school for its diversity as well as the staff's love and respect for each child. The kids both have learned and grown this year and we are proud.

Claire's head is in the middle of this photo...

Yesterday was the talent show and Claire participated in a group singing of "Let It Go" from the movie Frozen. The song is full of emotion and anger but each child sang it with a light step and a smile on their face; it was pretty cute.  I saw one girl with a costume on and asked Claire why she hadn't told me she needed a costume. "Mama, a costume is a want, not a need," she said. "That's why I didn't ask." She chose a cute dress instead and received many compliments. I was surprised and humbled at her wisdom because she was absolutely right.
Paul didn't get to participate in this year's talent show, but we're already brainstorming for next year.

This week was also the awards ceremony. Each child received so many awards I can't even count. Academic acheivement in all areas.  We were proud of them, but didn't make a big deal out of it. Our children are so smart and we love them so much, but we know their abilities and I expect them to achieve academically, so we don't buy balloons or flowers.  We just hollered at them, hugged them, and told them good job. I also feel that congratulatory items are a slippery slope. If I buy balloons this year, I would feel like that wouldn't be enough next year and would have to buy bigger and bigger gifts until I had to stop at purchasing their first home before they were 18.


We recently had fun at Field Day. Paul woke up with a fever and sore throat that day, so I immediately took him to the doctor, knowing that a child in his class had strep. Luckily the doctor checked him out, tested him, and gave him the all clear. She gave us permission to take him to school tardy with the stipulation that he not kiss anyone. I don't know who was more excited when we arrived, Adam or Paul.

The girls beat the boys at tug of war in Claire's class.

Obviously Paul felt fine.

This is Paul with his "girlfriend" Emily. He informed me last week that she told him they broke up and now she is going out with Luis. "How did that make you feel?" I asked. "Great!" he said. "I told her I'm too young for a girlfriend anyway."


It's been a good year and we are grateful.

Listening and Motherhood

This morning as I walked Claire and Paul to school, Claire didn't take a breath. She was excited about the end of the school year and her stuffed penguin, which she was smuggling to school today to play with on the playground. This penguin, she said, would eat berries off the bushes at school because no fish were available.
"You know I'm part penguin," she said.
I raised my eyebrows. "Oh really?"
"Yes, I love fish like penguins, so I've got a little bit of penguin in me."
"Hmm."
Years ago, when I was a teacher, I learned about a teaching technique called "think aloud." To help a student develop their own thought processes, the teacher is supposed to speak aloud her own processes. When editing a paper, a teacher might say out loud, "This word looks different. I think I need to consult a dictionary to verify spelling on this word."  Or, "When my friend is mean to me, I feel upset. I think I will go play with another friend." This helps students with problem solving and connecting dots in their brain.
Knowing about that, I have consciously done that around my children since they were infants. I say, "I can't find a clean pair of socks. That must mean that I need to either fold the laundry or wash more. I think I'll fold this clean laundry because it's faster than washing and drying and folding a dirty load."
The results of sharing my thought processes is that Claire has become a verbal processor. She is never short on words. The hardest part of my day is 3:00 to 3:30 p.m. when both children are over-flowing with details of their day. Claire's class always arrives outside first, so she gets a head start on sharing every part of her day. Poor Paul has just started talking over her or interrupting to share what he needs to share. I think he's more of an internal processor, but it's hard to tell when he has to fight for space to speak.
I am grateful that my children find me a safe haven to share all the important and unimportant parts of their life. I try to remind myself that I am building a foundation of a relationship.  Today they talk to me about penguins and I try to listen hard and pay attention for when the real life problems arise. If I don't spend time investing in conversations about stuffed penguins, I'm afraid they won't turn to me to share stories about bullies or friends that make poor choices.
It's hard though. As an internal processor and someone who has a dialogue going on in her brain 100% of the time, I sometimes resent these interruptions into my thoughts and brainstorming. Listening all the time begins to make me weary.
To date, my hardest parenting struggles have been potty training and training myself to listen even when I have other things on my mind. Potty training, thank goodness, is far behind us, but the listening is every day.
Summer is on its way; only four more days of school. In the summer the kids will be with me almost all of the time. That means many opportunities to listen to conversations about stuffed animals and what they eat.
I am prepared to listen. I also recognize that the kids and I do get tired of our exclusive audiences with one another, so I am preparing on finding a time once a week for the kids and I to have some space apart. Lunch with a friend or coffee by myself gives me room to be a better listener later.

Springtime Joys and Updates

This spring has had no shortages of joys in the Boyette family. 

Claire and her best friend won first place in the science fair with a hydroponics experiment they did entirely themselves. The project was part of her gifted and talented classwork so she didn't receive a grade and I decided that was enough reason to let her do it herself. It was difficult for me not to hover or even proofread her work, but we both succeeded. She kept telling me with confidence she knew what she was doing, so I let her do it. The project turned out great and went to the district fair. My favorite part was her note, "When you read this judges, we hope you find it interesting."
Paul lost his first tooth, immediately followed by his second tooth. Both kids are extremely smart, but they both also still believe, so Adam and I keep it up. Paul also was labeled gifted and talented, which is a big deal for any child, but especially for a kindergartener. That means he'll be in the smart kid class from here on out.

I started a new job as the Communications and Technology Coordinator at Central Christian Church in Weatherford. Since our church functions as our extended family, the move was bittersweet. I'm still settling in, but I love it and soon I will get to devote actual time to writing. My office makes me happy with its yellow walls and bright windows.




I finished my first semester of seminary and registered for my second. I'm baking banana bread to raise money for tuition. (Email me if you want some.) So far I've baked 31 loaves and I'm still taking orders!







Last night I had the opportunity to go to Arborlawn United Methodist Church to see Adam Hamilton. Adam is probably the best known United Methodist minister in the United States. He's also a talented author. I got to speak to him briefly, but I failed to mention that my Adam once wore Adam Hamilton's robe. Several years ago we were in Kansas for a wedding and my mischievious husband found the robe room and took a photo in the famous Adam's robe.




This weekend we'll have our annual Memorial Day grillout and opening of the pool. We're also celebrating Claire's birthday. We're headed into summer with a smile.

Spring Semester Review

Last week I turned in my final for Church History II: Reformation to Modernity. If you have insomnia or are a nerd and enjoy these things, you are welcome to read my final paper. Click the link here to go to it.

My return to school as a student again was quite an adjustment for everyone in my family. Claire didn't particularly like me leaving and developed some separation anxiety. Paul got sick of eating pizza every Thursday night and has declared he doesn't like it at all. Adam had to arrange his work schedule to be home at 6:00 p.m. every Thursday so I could make it to class on time.

Most days when I was at Brite Divinity School in my class, I felt like I was at the precipice of an entirely new world. Being around people that know words I've never heard and can write about concepts I've never even thought is invigorating to my spirit. It also makes the learning curve steep for me.

I've always enjoyed learning history, but I was fascinated with incorporating theology and learning the processes and events that brought the church where it is today. The inflence of secular history on church history and vice versa was a world unexplored. I learned about Martin Luther and how some of his thoughts became part of German culture and hundreds of years later even influenced Hitler and the common person's response to him.

I learned about the abolitionist movement and how it was linked to women's suffrage and even later, women's ordination in the church. This was a big eye-opener to me because learning about the 1800s and women's prescribed "role in society" made me question and ponder my own prescribed role. What parts of my life did I chose? What parts did society chose for me? This added relevance to the issues of women's rights. The struggles of the past became real in the present.

I learned my limits and how to ask for help. I'm still not a master at this, but I am definitely more self-aware and am become more proactive about asking for help when needed. On the week of my mid-term I had job interviews, my mid-term, a full work week and a husband who was stuck at work for about 60 hours. It was difficult but when I asked for help, I immediately received it.

I learned how important Google is to a student and how many thousands of books are available online. If you're writing a paper at 4:30 a.m., the libraries are closed, but you can do a Google books search and usually find what you're looking for. Instead of the index, online books provide a keyword search feature which saved me time. I was able to access any source I desired at any time I desired, for no cost.

As part of my school, I filled out a field education form for kicks, actually listing what I want to do for a living when I'm out of seminary. I wrote "I want to be a Bible study curriculum writer." Five months later I have completed my first course toward my Master of Divinity degree and I have a new job!

I'm so glad I took the plunge and stepped forth in faith to acheive some dreams. I can't wait to see where the next year takes me!

--In the fall I'll be taking Methodist Polity and Spiritual Life and Leadership. I'll be taking two courses, with two jobs, two kids, a husband, and two dogs. I can't wait to see what the world looks like in the midst of that. I know I'll be asking for help.

Moving Away From Home

When Adam and I were newlyweds, we moved to an apartment off of Hulen Street in Fort Worth. Both of us grew up in the mid-cities and went to college in Arlington, so Fort Worth was mostly unmapped territory.  We had to select what grocery store to patronize regularly. We had to find the post office.  We had to learn the routes to and from home. We also had to find a church home.

Adam grew up in the Church of Christ, I grew up Southern Baptist and neither one of us identified with those traditions any longer. So when Adam came home from work and said there was a pretty building on Camp Bowie that was a Methodist church, we were willing to give it a try.

The pretty building we've been at each Sunday since 2002.

It only took one Sunday at Arlington Heights United Methodist Church for us to feel at home. The people were kind and had an authenticity that was refreshing.  There wasn't a Sunday person/weekday person trade off. You could talk to a person on Friday night and the same person would be there on Sunday morning; you could even continue your conversation.

It was January of 2002.

Twelve years later, we're still there.  I've been on staff for four years working as the Communications Coordinator. I love my job for many reasons. I love serving others and I love utilizing both my journalism skills learned in college and my faith. 

In January I enrolled in seminary at Brite Divinity School.  I'm taking one class and I love it. Discovering the culture of the seminary and of faith learning has been another time of excitement and recognition of home and belonging.

I would love to write Bible studies one day and create small group discussion guides that cover scripture and great spiritual writing. I have thought and prayed about this over time and one day I believe I will do it.  I'm at the very beginning of my seminary career, though, and I assumed that day would be far in the future; probably after graduation when I was serving a Methodist church as a deacon on staff.

The view from my desk. I love my tiny art gallery!

This idea ended up being similar to my "I'll enroll in seminary when the kids are grown" idea. (Notice I'm in seminary now and the kids are still in elementary school.) As a routine, I submitted my resume to the field education office with notes on dreams and goals of mine.  Within a week two churches started looking at it.  Within a month I was going on interviews. I was found by a church who wants to create their own Bible study curriculum and eventually publish a book.  After many meetings and discussions with church leaders and in my home, I decided to take the job.

Beginning May 11 I will be on staff at Central Christian Church in Weatherford. I'm ecstatic about the new horizon, about taking my creativity and skills to the next level, about moving forward to achieve a dream.  Writing Bible studies won't be the only part of my job, but it's the part I didn't even know I could get so early in seminary.

I feel like a teenager moving away from home to go to college. Our church is part of the culture of our family. I can lead you to any part of the building with my eyes closed. Both of our children were baptized there.  Once a month Adam ushers in the early service. We both help teach children's Sunday school classes as substitutes.  I know nearly every single person in the congregation.  We all consider friends from church part of our family.  The kids are so at home they are unafraid to approach adults and begin conversations with them. We are going to miss it.

The good news is that like a college student, we'll get to come back home.  The entire family will return to AHUMC once a month. That will make our time even sweeter because we won't take it for granted.

We are bravely stepping forward in faith and I can't wait to see what's next on the horizon.

Birthdays and Growing Up

Tomorrow is my birthday. Growing up, birthdays were always exciting. My mom would make me a yellow cake with rainbow chip frosting every year.  I haven't seen a can of rainbow chip frosting in years, but I can still remember the taste.  It was the taste of joy.

As I've gotten older, birthdays are just as big of a deal, but for different reasons.  When I was younger, the emphasis was the presents. Now the focus has shifted from presents, which are still exciting, to relationships and service. 

I have friends both near and far and my birthday is an excuse to connect with ones I don't get to keep up with often. Even something as simple as a Facebook greeting can be a conversation starter and a reminder to touch base with loved ones I don't see regularly.

I express my love for others through acts of service, and my birthday is a time when I stop and let others take care of me. I pause to remember that I am loved and that people are thankful for my service and presence in their lives.  It's also the time when I can get the kids motivated to help with chores all weekend long.  I have asked Paul to clean his bedroom as his gift to me.  Claire fed the dogs and everyone helped with laundry without complaint.

The past year has been one of great personal growth for me. At this time last year I had accepted that I would eventually enroll in seminary, but it was still far off in the distance and I wasn't brave enough to voice that dream to most people around me. Now I spend my free time studying and I am relishing every second in the classroom learning more about faith and church history. In the fall I'll stretch myself even more as I take two classes instead of just one.  I also know now what each class will require of me so I can prepare for the demands.

Today I am a better writer than I was last year. I know more about myself now than I did then. I've always been comfortable in my own skin, but self-discovery has led to even more self-acceptance.

My baby is in kindergarten, my daughter is blowing everyone away with her intelligence and perceptions, my husband has found he loves reading almost as much as me.

So while I'm not physically growing anymore, this past year has been one of great personal growth. I can't wait to see what my 36th year will hold.

NextDoor, Facebook, and Why I Will Never Delete You

I've made up my mind on my beliefs. I know what I believe about God, politics, violence, gay marriage and many other hot button issues.

That doesn't mean I've stopped listening, though.

In our part of Fort Worth, we have a social media website for neighbors called NextDoor. Ideally it's a place where you can share information that builds community. In the perfect situation, you would use the website to recommend a local plumber, to share information on a municipal concern, and to get to know your neighbors better.

In reality it's nothing like that.

There are a number of people who post about missing or found pets, and I always read their posts with care so I can watch out for the dog or cat. Others promote their garage sale, which is nice because they share pictures.

By far, the majority of the website, though, has been reduced to petty grumbling. Currently there's a 100+ comment stream about code compliance officers.  Basically the city is asking for volunteers to help alert them to code violations in our neighborhoods. This has opened the door to people throwing around words like "Nazi", "Big Brother," and "criminals." Irritated, others have commented that they will now cancel their account.

Not me. 

On Facebook I have a wide variety of "friends." Many share my outlook on life.  Many don't. I have a few friends that post opinions that consistently make me uncomfortable. Some use their Facebook page to spew hate, inciting others to delete their imaginary friendship.

Not me.

With the increasing personalization of society, it's easy to surround myself with people that only agree with me.  I can choose to read news that only enforces my views on the world. I can subscribe to blogs that share my opinion.  I can limit social media friendships to those who stand on the same soapboxes. I can schedule my social appearances, attend my church, and spend all my free time surrounding myself with sameness.

But sometimes I get sick of my own voice.

www.sxc.hu

Instead, I want to listen. I want to hear all sides of the story. I want to be exposed to opinions that make me uncomfortable. I want to read the comment stream that dissects petty complaints.

Listening to the other side reminds me of the size of my world. How small my world is when mine is the only voice heard and everyone agrees with me. When I hear you share an opinion I disagree with, I am reminded of the existence of other views and voices. I pay more attention to what I am passionate about when I hear others share their passions. 

I remind myself of the humanness of everyone. I am connected to real people and not just the imaginary "other side." I recognize how different our worlds are when you are passionate about the concrete on your pathway matching the concrete on your driveway. 

When I am exposed to the stories and concerns of others, I realize my concerns today won't be my concerns tomorrow. One day soon I won't be worried about homework or kissing injured knees.  My life with change.

I conciously listen to the other side of the story, but sometimes my ears get tired.

On the neighborhood website, I noticed a pattern with a particular user.  This gentleman was quick to grumble about any topic listed. It began to wear on even me, who was initially happy to read his views. I kept sharing with Adam how annoyed I was at this particular man's postings and complaints. I mulled over blocking his posts so I could avoid him altogether, but that didn't feel right.  Instead, I resorted to thanking him.  For every post, similar to Facebook's "like" button, there is a "thank" button. Every time that neighbor posts something, I go in and click "thank." At first he continued his three posts a day barrage of complaints, but I am happy to report that is no longer. Instead, his postings now are mostly positive and helpful.  I do realize this is a mixture of killing him with kindness and being a smart-aleck, but it made me feel better.

I truly do want to hear other sides to the story. I want to surround myself with different rather than same-same. I want to constantly expand my horizons and my world view. I want to put a face with that issue. I want to remember that the "other side" is real people and not just a "bunch of lunatics." However, my compassionate listening can only go so far when faced with constant complaining.  I might just have to thank you and move on to the next topic.  However, I won't ever delete you.

Gratitude and Raising the White Flag of Surrender

Want to know about the Protestant vs. Catholic Reformation in Europe? Not able to sleep? Haven't read the words "I would rather see a cow defecate" in a religious setting in a while?
I can fix all your problems with one swoop here!  Here's the link to my midterm, which includes a quote from a Protestant saying he would rather see a cow defecate than sit through another mass. I hoping to get at least a laugh for that inclusion.
I haven't been writing here because I've been attempting to tackle that beast.  Writing for seminary is different than other writing I've had to do, and I'm grateful for that. I'm always trying to improve my writing skills and so far, Brite Divinity School has asked me to stretch and stretch and I think I'm starting to grow.
I wanted to express my gratitude for everyone who helped me get through those crazy two weeks where I was reading and writing at every spare second I had. Adam has had an extremely tough work schedule for the last month so he's spent every spare second at the office. There were several days that I was trying to write my paper, work my two jobs, take care of my two kids, and I just wasn't doing anything very well.  I am humbled and thankful for everyone that helped me over the hump.  For those of you that sent me encouraging notes or hugged me and helped me regain my balance, I am so grateful. To my special friend that brought me dinner, thank you. To my friends who took the kids to the movies and dinner so I could write, thank you. To my kids who put up with a stretched-too-thin mother for two weeks, thanks for your patience. To my husband, thank you for understanding.
Besides all the new facts that are now crammed into my brain is a realization that I absolutely cannot pursue a Master of Divinity degree without support. When the time to write my final comes around, I will remember that and plan ahead.  I will recognize that trying to fit all that homework into the space between the time the children sleep and I am awake just isn't possible.  I will schedule uninterrupted work time by planning entertainment for the kids outside of the house with people that love them.  I will ask for help before I have to raise the white flag and admit defeat.
In some ways, I had an easier time writing this paper than the last one, so I am also hopeful that next semester I will be even more fluent in the ways to write for seminary.
Thank you to all my loved ones for your prayers and support.

Gravel, Gravity, and Grace

I'm always creating metaphors in my head and the one I've been processing lately is about gravel, gravity, and grace.

(dreamstime.com for free stock photo)

Everyone has stressors, or little pieces of life that irritate them. They're small things, almost like a piece of gravel under your foot. Usually I just step over these little irritants. Walking on gravel isn't exactly comfortable but when my stress levels are low, so is my gravel pile.

For the past month, though, for many reasons, my gravel pile has been growing. Pieces of gravel that would normally be stepped on or stepped over have been stacking up in a pile.  When I have a pile of irritants added up, then little pebbles hurt like big boulders. Small inconsiderations start looking like major insults and my spirit is wounded. Crises of my children like lost library books begin to take on adult proportions. My to do list starts to look like a military campaign.  When my rock pile is growing, I begin to lose perspective and sight of who and what is on the other side of my pile of issues. I forget that everyone has their own gravel pile and while I can't see around mine, it doesn't mean that my problems are bigger or my issues more pressing than those around me.  I get wrapped up in looking at my gravel pile and announcing it to anyone that crosses my path.  "Can you believe what I have to put up with? Have you seen this pile of irritants in my life? It's not fair!"

But then the last piece of gravel is placed on the pile and things begin toppling. All of the sudden I am falling off my self-righteous pile of gravel.  I am no longer looking down on others whom I perceive to  have fewer amount of struggles.  I am confused, in despair and free-falling. 

This week the piece of gravel that toppled my pile was our slab leak.  We had a water leak and we didn't know where it was. Claire's room was quickly turning into a swamp, our front yard was a puddle, and water was seeping out of the front of the house.  We didn't know who to call. Did this mean we would immediately have to repair our foundation problems? How would we pay for this? Who could we trust to charge us a fair price? When would we have time to devote to dealing with this?

Yesterday morning I called in to my school and told them I had to wait for a plumber.  After I took the kids to school, I ended up being stuck at home by myself and it was the best thing that could have happened to me.  Several times I stopped and intentionally listened to my breathing.  I prayed.  I journaled.  I caught up on urgent work.  I planned ahead.  I didn't talk to anyone but Adam and the plumber. 

And all my gravel fell to the ground and now I can see. I can see other people and their gravel piles. I can see that my irritants are gravel pebbles, not boulders. I can step over my own pebbles to go to someone else's rock pile and commiserate with them. 

For me, that is the story of God's grace. Just when we cannot take another rock on our pile, just when our pile is toppling and we are free-falling into a pit of despair and self-adsorption, we land on our feet and we can see clearly.  We can reach out to another and give them a hug.  We can go forward and leave those little gravel irritants behind.  We can move on.

Dancing

Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot.
I'm a terrible dancer. I have no sense of rhythm and can't remember any dance moves to save my life. In college, I took two semesters of dance classes, but I can't even remember the names of the courses, much less the dances I learned.
No matter. Right now in my life I'm dancing my heart out. I'm learning to left foot-right foot and not put my feet in one circle too long. I'm learning how thin I can stretch before I have to curl back inside of myself. I'm learning how much weight my stretched shoulders can carry and what has to fall off.
Though I don't have musical rhythm, some days I catch a glimpse of what it must be like. Some days I dance from school to work to school to homework to dinner to monitoring bedtime activities and still have enough energy to have a coherent conversation with Adam when he gets home from work. Some days I stand up tall because I know I danced that day. I was able to balance on the right foot while stretching with my left arm to stir the dinner pot. I was able to balance it all without falling over.
Other days I have to recoil. I have to force myself to sit and breathe and appreciate. I have to take a nap. I have to read a book for sheer pleasure. I have to stop the clock and refocus before I'm able to proceed. These moments of relaxation, renewal, and refreshment are just as important as the times I'm fully-engaged with life.
Life is so short.
Occasionally I dance on autopilot. Out of sheer exhaustion or overwhelm, I just keep moving and going through the motions until they make sense. The fabulous and fascinating part of just putting one foot in front of the other and trying to make sense of it all is that some days it works!  The children will say something beautiful or share a concern and I will shout with joy because they have grasped the concept. Yesterday Paul cleaned his room on his own accord and I was as excited as the two times I met Anne Lamott!
On days of overwhelm, I remember the other people on the dance floor with me. I'm not dancing by myself and I have several loved ones I can lean on. This weekend I spent 12 hours on Saturday at a church event. It was important to be there, but then I woke up Sunday morning and realized Paul was out of pants because I didn't get to do the laundry. I later confessed to Adam that I was overwhelmed with my weekend duties and last night we spent a couple of hours and hung and folded every piece of laundry in the house. Engineer that he is, the folded laundry looks so much neater when he does it. Today I have empty laundry baskets and I am so grateful.
My life is dancing, and just when I catch my breath and sync with the rhythm, the song changes. I never get bored.

www.sxu.hu
(Don't I look fabulous here?)

Think Before You Joke

My sense humor is pretty corny. I insert dumb jokes into just about everything. I won't say they're funny, but for some reason, my brain is quick with making connections to cheese.
The last couple of years, I have noticed a shift in the way my comments are perceived. Often, in an attempt to lighten the mood, I end up meeting a wall of defensiveness.

I noticed this first in the school setting. I find that I have to build a relationship with a teacher before I can be silly with them. My sarcastic humor is met with excuses and reasons backing them up.
For example, one of the copy machines at my school is almost always broken. So when I need to make copies, I usually have to wait in line. To pass the time, I make comments like, "We need to pray over that machine and only speak in soft tones around it." This poor attempt at humor is met with excuses, "I haven't copied anything in days and I have most certainly not touched that machine."
Or, I try to pump a kid up making a big deal of a small accomplishment. "Teacher, can you believe what I saw today? I saw so and so behaving himself and walking correctly in the hallway!" This is met with "Yeah, he better walk right because I've been lecturing him all day and his granny was up here yesterday."
This happens to me again and again in the educational setting, but it's not limited to that.
Last night I called and ordered a pizza from the local chain. They said it would be ready in 10 minutes, which was amazingly fast in my book.  So I drove there and saw that one man was on the phone taking orders and my pizza waited patiently to be boxed and handed over.  This was less than 10 minutes from when I made the phone call, so I was amazed at the speed of things.
The employee on the phone pulled the phone away from his ear and yelled to another employee in the back. The new guy immediately responded and came to the counter to help me.
I said, with a smile on my face, "I can't believe I had to wait so long. That pizza has been sitting there for a whole 30 seconds!"
He just stares incredulously at me.
"Ma'am, I've been in the back training a new employee. I'm sorry you had to wait."

www.sxu.hu

"Ummm, I was just kidding. You guys are amazingly fast."

After these uncomfortable situations pass, I usually remember there are reasons that someone didn't think my humor was funny.

• Maybe it really wasn't funny.
• Maybe I'm the only one in the room not stressed out to my utter limit.
• Maybe I'm not seeing the whole picture and this person is just trying to put one foot in front of the other and survive. Maybe they are using all their energy to carry their load and I'm distracting them.

Once I got in the car with my pizza, I remembered the pizza store has been robbed several times since I've lived in this neighborhood. That's not laughing matter. If I was constantly afraid of being robbed or attacked, I wouldn't want to laugh at stupid jokes either.

And with teachers, I usually end up finding out that a parent had verbally attacked the teacher that week and pinned their child's failures and misbehavior on the teacher.  When I went on a field trip with the kid's school this week, one teacher confided that a parent had been to school the previous week and cursed out every one in the office and all the other grade level teachers except her. She said she was immune that time because the parent wanted to attend the party in her class.

I'm going to try to make a shift. Since no one is laughing at my jokes anyway, I'm going to try to stop telling them. Instead, I'm going to try to stop filling awkward silences. If I just have to say something, instead of a joke, I'm going to try to insert a kind word.

Everyone seems to be overworked and overwhelmed. Maybe a kind word recognizing that will help more than a cheesy joke.

THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN GOD’S GRACE AND HUMAN FAITH, ACCORDING TO MARTIN LUTHER’S TREATISE ON CHRISTIAN LIBERTY

So here it is.  This is my first theological paper.  I recently posted on FB that this was the best paper ever written about Martin Luther...by me.  Several people misunderstood and thought I was claiming to have written the best paper ever.  No, this is just the best one on Martin Luther that I've ever written.  You could also argue it's the worst, because it's my only. You can tell how difficult it was just from the laughable title, which doesn't even appear to be in English.  It is, and I hope the paper will turn out okay as well.  I, in my academic enthusiasm found this quite exciting. I also understand that many people will not.  

That is why I am attending seminary!

Enjoy!

--Sarah

The relationship between God’s grace and Human Faith,

according to Martin Luther’s Treatise on Christian Liberty

Although the Paul might have been the first to pen the idea of salvation by faith and not works, he wasn't the last. "For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God--not the result of works, so that no one may boast." Paul wrote these words in Ephes. 2:8-9 NRSV and there has been no end to public discourse and debate about them. We are saved by grace through faith and not by works. Paul believed it, Martin Luther believed it, and thus began a great fissure within the Church, eventually resulting in the establishment of Protestantism. Christians and churches still wrestle with the concept, even into the 21st century. This paper attempts to explore the issue of salvation by grace in light of Martin Luther and other Christians throughout history.

In 1520 Martin Luther makes his points about salvation and grace in Concerning Christian Liberty, a treatise that is prefaced with a letter to Pope Leo X. In the letter to the pope, Luther compliments the pontiff but criticizes the church openly. “I have said nothing of you but what was honourable and good”[1] is followed a few paragraphs later with condemnation of corruption in the church. “The Church of Rome, formerly the most holy of all Churches, has become the most lawless den of thieves, the most shameless of all brothels, the very kingdom of sin, death, and hell; so that not even antichrist, if he were to come, could devise any addition to its wickedness.”[2] Luther provides specifics about what he despises in the people and practices of the church. Insincere flatterers, those who use power unjustly, those who use the name of the pope to wield such power, and enemies of peace, all make his list. He then offers the following treatise to the pope as a sign of his good will and desire for peace. “It is a small matter, if you look to its exterior, but, unless I mistake, it is the summary of the Christian life put together in a small compass, if you apprehend its meaning.”[3] This portion is critical to Luther’s entire treatise. In this letter he attempts to establish his respect for the Pope and allay any fears the Pope has about Luther’s loyalty. Luther claims not to be a threat to the church. He still has hope that a quick cleanup job will solve all the church’s problems. In this he is naïve and hopeful. He again and again praises the Pope so the entire treatise will actually be read and possibly both inform and spur the Pope to action. Luther wants church leaders to respect their members instead of bullying them into giving more money. Specifically he is upset at the selling of indulgences, and church leaders espousing they can grant forgiveness for a price.

Luther starts out his second portion of the treatise with a discussion of the Christian faith and its dual nature as both simple and complex. “A Christian man is the most free lord of all, and subject to none; a Christian man is the most dutiful servant of all, and subject to every one.”[4] He references 1 Cor. 9:19 and Rom. 13:8 as scriptural explanations. A person is a dichotomy of spirit and physical body. The inward person references the spirit realm and the outward person references the physical realm. Once established, if this is believed, then it follows that no one can liberate or influence a soul. Luther writes, “One thing, and one alone, is necessary for life, justification, and Christian liberty; and that is the most holy word of God, the Gospel of Christ.”[5] The soul’s very survival depends on the word of God, Luther explains. Nothing else comes close to satisfying the desire of the heart. Though he doesn’t call it by name here, Sola scriptura is the principle that scripture is the sole source of authority for the Christian and the church. “The Bible is therefore to be read in order to find Christ, using reason and prayer for the Holy Spirit’s guidance. In this sense the Bible will be its own interpreter and direct the church (not vice versa).”[6] Lay persons don’t need a priest to interpret the scripture for them, because with reason and prayer, anyone can understand God’s word.

Luther writes that faith allows the soul to receive God’s word. The soul is made righteous and justified by this faith. “For the word of God cannot be received and honoured by any works, but by faith alone. Hence it is clear that as the soul needs the word alone for life and justification, so it is justified by faith alone, and not by any works. For if it could be justified by any other means, it would have no need of the word, nor consequently of faith.”[7] Faith allows the believer access to God’s word. Faith is the starting point of the Christian life. Luther argues that without faith, every good action and every scripture reading is invalid and meaningless.

I believe that before faith, there is grace. My personal theology is firmly rooted in the Methodist tradition. We believe that faith is a response to grace. We believe in prevenient grace. This is the grace that comes before. “Prevenient grace is God’s grace anticipating any movement by man towards God.” [8] This is where God claims us as children of God before we can even claim that name for ourselves. At birth, God puts us on the path of faith. It’s up to us to recognize it and claim the faith for ourselves, but he is always there to lead us and love us. That is my understanding of grace.

Faith belongs to the inward spirit of the Christian, and therefore is not justified, made free, or saved by outward physical activities, Luther explains. “Therefore the first care of every Christian ought to be to lay aside all reliance on works, and strengthen his faith alone more and more, and by it grow in the knowledge, not of works, but of Christ Jesus.”[9] Faith is the key that unlocks success to fulfilling the scriptural laws as well as guides the believer in a correct outward Christian life. With faith the Christian has a bridge between one’s inward nature and one’s outward works. “For what is impossible for you by all the works of the law, which are many and yet useless, you shall fulfill in an easy and summary way through faith, because God the Father has made everything to depend on faith.”[10] The treatise lists three virtues of faith. The possession of faith means the Christian has no need for law or justification works. That doesn’t mean the Christian doesn’t perform good works or follow the law, but that one’s salvation is due to grace and not directly connected to outward actions. By nature, a faithful Christian is obedient. With faith, one automatically has a reputation of truth and righteousness. With lack of faith, one is full of self-idolatry and empty works. Through faith the soul is united to Christ. Christ and the soul become one flesh. The human soul is full of sin, but by grace through faith, the soul is united to Christ, who takes on the sin and makes the human righteous. “Christ is full of grace, life, and salvation; the soul is full of sin, death, and condemnation. Let faith step in, and then sin, death, and hell will belong to Christ, and grace, life, and salvation to the soul.”[11] This is Luther’s understanding of Grace. He believed the human was by nature wicked and only became righteous through relationship with Christ Jesus. Grace cannot be earned, bought, or bargained for because salvation is simply and solely reliant upon faith. Once faith is established, the Christian begins to desire to perform acts of goodness and justice, acting out of relationship with Christ. Faith always comes first, or all Christian acts are fraudulent. With faith, all believers are acting as priests on behalf of Jesus. The church had skewed this information, according to Luther, and separated the clergy from lay people as if one were more holy than the other. “Through this perversion of things it has happened that the knowledge of Christian grace, of faith, of liberty, and altogether of Christ, has utterly perished, and has been succeeded by an intolerable bondage to human works and laws.”[12] Those who preach should aim simply at increasing faith in Christ, according to Luther. “…it is not sufficient, nor a Christian course, to preach the works, life, and words of Christ in a historic manner.”[13]

I believe that we still struggle with this cart-before-the-horse, works-before-faith issue today. In my faith community, good works are easy for us. We bring a can of tuna for the food drive. We bring our pocket change for the coin collection. We attend worship and Sunday school, but we often do a terrible job of nurturing our souls. My church has a culture of giving good works and seeking quick spiritual nourishment. When asked to read a book or complete a Bible study for the week, many scoff at that or make a good face and then pitch the materials at the back of their car, forgetting about them until the next Sunday. Intentional faith development is an integral part of my life. I am always reading a book to grow deeper in my faith or journaling and praying my way through a problem. My small group holds me accountable to this. To me, working on my faith has richer, more long-term rewards than works such as bringing a can of tuna to the food drive. My faith calls me out into the world to do good works, but it is faith that comes first.

In the conclusion of the treatise, Martin Luther explains why good works are commanded. He believed a Christian must keep his spirit stronger than his body so the spirit may rule the body. Performing good works brings the body under the spirit’s rule and brings joy. “For the inner man, being conformed to God and created after the image of God through faith, rejoices and delights itself in Christ, in whom such blessings have been conferred on it, and hence has only this task before it: to serve God with joy and for nought in free love.”[14]

Luther urges Christians to be clear in their understanding that they will not be justified by the works, but that good works are for one purpose, “that the body may be brought into subjection, and be purified from its evil lusts, so that our eyes may be turned only to purging away those lusts.”[15]

To clarify, Martin Luther believed that man had two natures, a spiritual nature and a physical nature. The spiritual nature should govern over everything the physical body did. All commandments and rules and man-made church doctrines only come into play once a Christian has faith. One should focus simply on faith and deepening and strengthening one’s faith. Once faith is firmly established in the spirit, Luther believed that the physical body would bow to spiritual rule. According to Luther, because of faith, a Christian will make the best moral decisions and perform good works. These actions will further deepen faith, but without faith, these actions are empty, meaningless, and self-serving. What is fascinating to me about this idea is that we are still struggling with it in the 21^st century. In 2006, the World Methodist Council approved a Statement of Association with the Joint Declaration Doctrine of Justification. This was in response to the "Official Common Statement by the Lutheran World Federation and the Roman Catholic Church," agreed upon in 1999. That ecumenical agreement stated that both of the churches back Martin Luther’s beliefs on faith and grace. With the Catholics and Lutheran’s 1999 agreement, it still took the Methodists until 2006 to get on board. Five hundred years after Luther wrote this treatise, the church finally publically agreed with it. Of course, Paul wrote Ephesians in the first century C.E. and it took Martin Luther and 1400 years to bring the issue to the public and common man. One could say the modern church is working a bit faster on declaring common doctrine. The Methodist statement affirms this statement from the Lutheran-Catholic agreement which states, “Together we confess: By grace alone, in faith in Christ’s saving work and not because of any merit on our part, we are accepted by God and receive the Holy Spirit, who renews our hearts while equipping and calling us to good works.”[16]

The strength of Martin Luther’s statement is freedom. Christians are free from competing against one another in measuring their work for God. One cannot be holier than another because faith in Christ puts us all on an equal playing field. We all sin, we all seek repentance, we all work for the powers of good. When denominationalism, church hierarchies, and social standings are stripped away, we all have faith in common. The rest is just details. Faith is the core and faith should be the driver for all our actions. The downside of this belief is that some could use the argument that their works don’t matter and they can sin with abandon. In 1600s colonial America, Anne Hutchinson struggled with this debate. She led small group discussions in her home to review her pastor, John Cotton’s sermons. “This was seen initially as expected and praiseworthy behavior, but independent theological thinking was soon suspected in the women’s circle.” [17] Anne Hutchinson was accused of antinomianism, the belief that salvation in Jesus Christ superseded the need to obey more terrestrial laws. “She claimed a fundamental belief in the Holy Spirit, who would guide a person’s faith and action. This view eliminated the need for magistrates and clergy men and was judged to be extremely subversive.”
Eventually Anne and her family were excommunicated and forced to move to Rhode Island.

The faith vs. good works debate has been alive in the church since its inception. Paul wrote about it his New Testament letter to the Ephesians and the debate has continued through the centuries. In 1520 Martin Luther called the church into account to align itself with his doctrine that faith comes before works and that Christians are saved by grace. He didn’t appear to believe it was controversial, he thought he was just re-stating and clarifying what was in the scriptures. He wrote, “For as works do not make a believing man, so neither do they make a justified man; but faith, as it makes a man a believer and justified, so also it makes his works good.”[18] Once faith is established, good works will follow in natural order. Unfortunately I won’t be around in 400 years to see how the debate will continue.

 

 

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Luther, Martin. "Concerning Christian Liberty." Project Wittenberg. 1520.

http://www.iclnet.org/pub/resources/text/wittenberg/luther/web/cclib-2.html (accessed February 3, 2014).

Malone, Mary T. Women and Christianity. New York: Orbis Books, 2003.

Richardson, Alan and Bowden, John, editors. The Westminster Dictionary of Christian Theology.

 Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1983.

Vatican. "Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification by the Lutheran World Federation

and the Catholic Church." Vatican: The Holy See. 1999.

http://www.vatican.va/roman_curia/pontifical_councils/chrstuni/documents/rc_pc_chrstuni_doc_31101999_cath-luth-joint-declaration_en.html (accessed February 5, 2014).

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[1] Martin Luther, Concerning Christian Liberty, 1520. http://www.iclnet.org/pub/resources/text/wittenberg/luther/web/cclib-2.html (accessed Feb. 3, 2014.)

[2] (Luther 1520)

[3] Ibid.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Ibid.

[6] (Richardson, Alan and Bowden, John, editors 1983)

[7] (Luther 1520)

[8] (Richardson, Alan and Bowden, John, editors 1983)

[9] (Luther 1520)

[10] Ibid.

[11] Ibid.

[12] (Luther 1520)

[13] Ibid.

[14] (Luther 1520)

[15] Ibid.

[16] Vatican. "Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification by the Lutheran World Federation and the Catholic Church." Vatican: The Holy See. 1999. http://www.vatican.va/roman_curia/pontifical_councils/chrstuni/documents/rc_pc_chrstuni_doc_31101999_cath-luth-joint-declaration_en.html (accessed February 5, 2014).

[17] Malone, Mary T. Women and Christianity. New York: Orbis Books, 2003.

[18] (Luther 1520)