Do You See Her?

Last week at LifeBridge, Rick Rusaw talked about loving your neighbors. A sermon I both resented and begrudgingly needed.

Here's what most stuck out to me. He looked at Luke 7, when a sinful woman, known to be a prostitute, comes and anoints Jesus' feet with perfume.

Those around Jesus scoff. In verse 39 the Pharisees think Jesus must not really know very much. Because if he really knew what kind of woman this was, he'd kick her out.

But Jesus reads their thoughts and tells a little mini-parable about how the more sinful the person, the more they need forgiveness.

And then he says this in verse 44, "Do you see this woman?"

I'd never really paid a whole lot of attention to that phrase, but I loved Pastor Rick's interpretation. This wasn't a vision test like, "Hey, see there's this lady here?" It was a heartfelt thought of, "Do you see her? Really see her? Do you see past the exterior of the life she's known for, into her heart? Do you see her hurts, her hopes, her dreams? Or do you just see her stuff?"

I for one tend to have a hard time seeing past people's "stuff." But Jesus never did. That's why he was always hanging out with tax collectors and prostitutes and sinners. Because to him they weren't just tax collectors and prostitutes and sinners. They were more than their labels. They were people.

I pray that I'll be able to see through the eyes of God, past the labels and into the hurts, hopes, and dreams of the people God has placed in my life.

Settling In

This post has been percolating in my head since last Sunday. Since just hours after I wrote my post about seeing my neighbors through God's eyes. (I told you he still had work to do.)

Last Sunday I went for a walk with the pups. And when I came back, my new neighbor, one whom I've only been able to see as a caricature of this obnoxious irresponsible drunk, was sitting on her front step smoking.

So me and the pups went over to say hi. And then she and I had a 15-20 minute conversation about random small talk type stuff - the weather, where we'd grown up, etc. And I went into my house feeling like I was beginning to see her as an actual person. Not that anything in this conversation was deeply profound, it was just...a normal conversation. Which was what I needed to start to see her as a normal person.

And then later on, as I sat on my back porch quietly reading, my presence seemingly unknown to her, I got a glimpse into an area of pain in her life. And that's when I first started to see her through God's eyes. No longer a caricature, and not simply as a normal person, but as a normal person with real struggles and pain. A normal person who needed to know she was valuable and loved.

And in fact, I had something to offer her to help with this pain. And I don't mean a simple religious answer—I need to build a relationship with her to get there. I mean I knew of someone who might be able to help her. I tried to be non-invasive about it—she hadn't opened up her pain to me on purpose—but I gave her a pamphlet and said maybe it could help her. I realized as soon as I heard her pain that this was the way I was meant to speak up and use my powerful words this week.

You see how everything God's been teaching me is all tying together?

Fast forward to Tuesday. I went to Anchor, a 20-something group at my new church. The message was about Jeremiah 29. Which delighted me so much because one of my pet peeves is when people quote Jeremiah 29:11 all the time out of context. But this message was about Jeremiah 29. Contextually. Yay!

And as we talked about transition and about how the Judeans were supposed to treat their exile as a kind of permanent thing...a lightbulb went off. You see, the Judeans were supposed to settle into the land. They were supposed to build houses—not pitch tents. They were supposed to plant gardens, producing for the land that had been the land of their enemies. They were supposed to build meaningful relationships, not putting marriage on hold. And they were even supposed to seek the prosperity of this place that didn't feel like home, that they would've wanted to see as a temporary transition.

And that's when it hit me. I've been living here for 5 years, and based on my plans I'll be here for 3 more years while I save for a house. The whole time I've lived here I've felt like I'd live here until I can buy a house. I've recognized that this is what I hope will be my last rental home. But I've seen it as a temporary home. A step while I get my 20% down saved up. I've never really viewed it as a neighborhood to settle into for 8-ish years. A neighborhood to contribute to, to be an active part of, to seek the prosperity of. A place to build meaningful relationships. I've settled into my internal home with my stuff, but not the society of people around me.

You see, part of the problem with focusing on Jeremiah 29:11 is that it focuses on God's plans for the future. And hopefully for me, that includes home ownership. But when you focus on God's plans for the future all the time, you can miss out on God's plans for you right now. Right now, God has called me here to this rental. God has called me to dwell among the people here and embrace life here, however annoying my neighbors may be at times. And I've been too focused on my plans for a house to accept that. I've been viewing my neighbors (at least the annoying ones) as an obnoxious thing I have to put up with while I wait for life to get better.

Jeremiah 29 isn't primarily about God's plans for the future. It's about embracing God's plan for you right now and in the future. And it's about time I embrace life here on my street.

"Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. PRay to the Lord for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper." - Jer Bear 29:7

God's Eyes

You know how sometimes, when God teaches you something, you're kind of thick-skulled about it so he keeps bringing it up?

Yeah, that happens to me kind of a lot.

So my last blog was about how God loves everyone just as much as he loves me. And how I need to see people with the kind of love he does. Only here's what happened next.

My neighbors were obnoxious again. Blasting music and talking outside my window late at night. And I thought about my blog and what I'd been learning, I really did. So I prayed for my neighbors and thanked God for the opportunity to grow in patience. I prayed that he'd help me reach out to my neighbors and love them more.

And when my prayer was done, I laid in bed and stewed anyway. And plotted about setting my alarm for 4 am to play ding dong ditch and see how they liked being kept awake.

Midnight is not my finest hour.

But then yesterday, I was editing a lesson about Jonah 4. That's the one after God spares Nineveh, where Jonah sits and stews about it. And then he wants to kill himself because his little vine dies. He is so absorbed in himself and the dumb little things in his life like a vine, and he's completely oblivious to the fact that maybe he needs an attitude check about the Ninevites.

Kind of like lying in my cozy bed stewing about how I can't sleep with my windows open because my neighbors are too loud? And plotting revenge?

The point of that lesson was that God wants us to love everyone. There's even an activity in it where kids make glasses with one lens that describes their view of someone they don't like, and the other lens describes God's view of that person.

And I thought...I need to see my neighbors through God-colored glasses.

But apparently God hadn't gotten the message through enough to me, because today in my Sunday School class we read this passage: "For Christ's love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died. And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again. So from now on we regard no one from a worldly point of view. Though we once regarded Christ in this way, we do so no longer" (2 Corinthians 5:14-16, emphasis added).

So that's what God-colored glasses look like. Not a worldly point of view, but a love that compelled Jesus to die for everyone. And that love is meant to compel us.

I'm gonna guess God has more to say to me on this topic, especially considering that this very clear challenge was given in the sermon: "Encourage a neighbor this week." And I thought, "ughhh...fine." So I think he still has some heart work to do. But I'm listening.