JR. Forasteros - June 1, 2014
YHWH Shalom - Peace
When we are confronted by either the needs in our world or God's call for us to address those needs, it's easy to become paralyzed. To think that we're not capable enough, that what's really needed is some sort of Christian superhero. But the story of Gideon reminds us that God doesn't require superhumans to accomplish wonders. Rather, God calls ordinary people and equips them. God requires of us the same thing he required of Gideon: that we respond to God's call with the strength we have. That we join Yahweh-Shalom, the God of Peace, in restoring all things.
From Series: "Hello My Name Is..."
Who is God? The answers to this most basic human question can be found in the Scriptures. Over and over, God comes to humanity, interacts with us in ways we can understand, and we learn more of who God is. Often in these interactions, the people who met God would give God a name - a way to describe how God had worked in their lives. As we explore these stories, we'll learn that God is the same God for us today. God is our provider, our shepherd, our banner, our peace, our mother and more!
More Messages From JR. Forasteros...
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In the years after Hurricane Katrina devastated the city of New Orleans, I went to the city to do relief work several times. It was during those trips I learned that what victims of disasters want most isn’t necessarily the relief work. Every trip went more-or-less the same:
A big group of us would show up and get to work. Maybe we were gutting a home so it could be cleansed of mold and rebuilt. Maybe we were cleaning up vacant lots to beautify a city block for the other residents. Mostly we were gutting homes – tearing out sheetrock and ripping up flooring. It was brutal, exhausting work, particularly in the New Orleans summers.
The residents would always be nearby, helping if they could or in their FEMA trailers making lemonade for us workers.
And inevitably, over the three or four days we were there, each of us would end up just sitting and talking with that resident. Despite the fact that we were on a schedule. Even though we were working hard to get their home finished.
What they needed most wasn’t a new home (though, obviously, that was important).
What they needed most wasn’t our strong backs and hard work. What they needed most, every time, was human interaction. They needed to tell their story, to be seen and heard, to know they’re not alone in their grief.
Again and again, what gave them hope was not the pounding hammers and loaded wheelbarrows, but a person sitting with them, being present with them.
What does it means to be WITH someone in times of grief? The final movement of Lament is hope, an anticipation that grief is not the final word.
