Oct 13, 2007 |
by Annette Bridges. © 2006. All rights reserved.
When I think of Easter, I think of one of the most precious gifts Christ Jesus gave to mankind. The promise of resurrection – of life, and not of death.
At this time of year, many focus on the sacrifice Jesus made on the cross. I embrace his crucifixion as the supreme model of unconditional love and forgiveness. He unselfishly bore our infirmities. And I’m humbled.
But I can’t stop there. Especially in light of the fact that the crucifixion was not the end of the story. Evil didn’t win the day. How important for humanity that his life example continued with his resurrection and ultimately, his ascension.
Renowned spirituality and health author, Mary Baker Eddy, writes much about the life and works of Christ Jesus and shares poignant ideas about the meaning of his example. These ideas are found in her book, Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures.
Of his crucifixion she wrote, “Despised and rejected of men, returning blessing for cursing, he taught mortals the opposite of themselves, even the nature of God; and when error felt the power of Truth, the scourge and the cross awaited the great Teacher.” And she describes the cross Jesus carried “up the hill of grief” as “the world’s hatred of Truth and Love.”
Truth, as well as Life and Love, are among many Biblical synonyms for God, and error, the opposite of Truth, is one of many names Eddy uses synonymously with evil. And unfortunately, mankind has often found itself being misguided and controlled by evil in some form or fashion – dishonesty, jealousy, hypocrisy, slander, hate and all the etceteras.
Many have questioned why Jesus allowed his enemies to crucify him since they believed he had the power to stop them.
But might that be where one of the incredible lessons of the resurrection comes in? He allowed his enemies to attempt the destruction of his mortal life. But his resurrection gave us proof of his immortal life. And as Mary Baker Eddy wrote, “Nothing could kill this Life of man.”
What a promise for each of us!
His example teaches us that we can never be separated from Life, God — the source of our spiritual, indestructible, eternal life.
Can’t this knowledge also become our resurrection, in a sense, right now?
Think of the many ways we may feel like we’re being crucified today.
Overwhelmed with debt that seems impossible to get out of. Battered with illness leaving our body weary for peace. Depressed with loss and loneliness with dim prospects of a brighter tomorrow. Feeling misunderstood or not appreciated.
Might Easter give us the promise of being resurrected from such crucifixions?
Remember the disciples’ mistaken grief over the death of their Master. And their hesitancy to believe his resurrection could really happen. Christ Jesus later upbraided them for their unbelief, as the Gospel of Mark tells us.
Have we given up hope?
Perhaps it’s possible to believe no more that something can forever destroy our hope and peace – or even our health.
Is it possible that such knowledge, such confident expectation, could roll away the stone from our tomb of despair?
What if the revival of our faith and hope could bring renewed strength, regenerated courage and restored confidence. Such a faith might proclaim that nothing can extinguish our health, our hopes, our dreams, and our peace that is given by God to all of his beloved children.
And today could be an Easter for you and me!
Oct 14, 2006 |
by Annette Bridges. © 2006. All rights reserved.
It’s Independence Day! On “The Fourth of July,” Americans celebrate their Declaration of Independence adopted on July 4, 1776. There will be fireworks, parades, family gatherings and barbecues. There will be baseball games, concerts and patriotic displays from flag flying to everything red, white and blue on streamers, balloons and clothing. Whatever our differences in political opinion, today we join as Americans to celebrate our freedom and to partake in the same events and activities.
In thinking about our Independence Day, I’ve been pondering a statement made by the early 20th century American novelist and poet William Faulkner: “We must be free not because we claim freedom, but because we practice it.”
The idea of “practicing” freedom, rather than just “celebrating” it, has seemed a rather distant and difficult concept for me lately. My life has felt increasingly enslaved by circumstances, fears and even my own mortality. My longing and great desire for freedom is turning me again to the sourcebook of all healing — the Bible.
The more I study Jesus’ teachings, the more I understand that independence from all forms of oppression — mental, emotional, physical — is found in God’s infinite power and love. God made us free, and this heritage of freedom endows us with the divine power to assert our freedom and dominion.
Jesus showed us how to practice freedom. He disregarded so-called laws of mortality by healing — proving sin, sickness and death powerless when confronted by the might of divine power and truth. He assured us that we, too, could practice our God-given freedom, and he also told us how.
He said, ” … know the truth, and the truth shall make you free” (John 8:32). It seems my practice of freedom begins by knowing the truth — the truth that God is the only power and creator, the truth that God is good, the truth of my spiritual identity as God’s daughter, the truth that evil is not a power and is not and would never be created by a God who is Love.
I’m discovering that when I depend on knowledge that comes from observing and analyzing mortal conditions, I often reach conclusions that bind me to human frailties. I guess this should be no surprise, since a mortal view can’t see beyond its own limitations and finiteness.
I’m learning that to practice the spiritual freedom that liberates from whatever would shackle me requires maintaining a spiritual view in spite of what the material senses report. It also requires an affirmation of the divine and eternal truth rather than what human knowledge asserts or predicts. I’ve found encouragement in Paul’s promise, “Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty” (2 Corinthians 3:17).
Indeed, freedom is a divine right. But like any right, it needs to be practiced, put into action and, at times, defended. Sometimes I must fight for my right to freedom.
I don’t have to surrender and helplessly submit to emotional and physical complaints. I don’t have to give up my right to freedom. Where there is freedom, there is peace — peace in mind, body, spirit. And peace is worth fighting for.
I’m learning the reverse is also true — where there is peace, there is freedom. For me, this is never illustrated as clearly as when Jesus calmed a storm at sea with that powerful assertion, “Peace, be still” (Mark 4:39). It seems to me that he affirmed peace to be a law of God that governs the universe and humankind. And this declaration of peace provided Jesus and his disciples freedom from the storm, stilled the wind and waves and produced “a great calm.”
Practicing freedom requires daily (sometimes hourly) acknowledgment of this God-given peace. When my life seems tossed by one storm after another and I long for calm, I’m finding I can affirm the presence of God’s peace and feel the independence — the freedom — that God’s peace brings to every situation or challenge. And so can we all.
Practice your God-given and God-promised rights of peace and freedom, and may every day be your independence day!
Oct 13, 2006 |
by Annette Bridges. © 2006. All rights reserved.
Christmas 1968. We were on a westbound journey. I don’t think we knew what or where our final destination was. Or at least I didn’t. I was ten years old. All I knew was we had left Georgia suddenly, late one evening, to escape my dad, who, I felt was rarely happy and was almost always angry about something.
My parents had divorced after 25 years of marriage, and my dad just couldn’t seem to let go of my mom. She was like a possession that he’d had a long time and didn’t want to loose.
Now he’d begun a “cat-and-mouse” chase that lasted several months. We left everything behind us –most of our clothes, my toys, my dog. All I remember taking along were our ice cream freezer, Bible, and a blue and white paperback book a friend had recently given to my mom, Science and Health.
As we passed through Mobile, Alabama, my dad found us, and we were literally in a car chase, with Mom and me driving very fast and making lots of turns to try to shake him off. We did . . . for a while.
That Christmas found us in a mobile home in Beaumont, Texas. We stayed in mobile-home parks instead of hotels as we traveled west, so as to be more elusive as the chase continued.
There was little to no money to be spent on gifts. But my mom and I were safe – and in several ways we were happy.
Christmas in Beaumont had no glitz or glimmer. There was no family gathering, no holiday feast. We got ourselves a tiny Christmas tree. It was so small I suspect it was like the tree in the cartoon classic “A Charlie Brown Christmas” – the tree nobody wanted. We didn’t have any decorations. Not even a tree stand. So, we found a way to hang the tree from the ceiling. I remember thinking how cool that was. We strung popcorn and made paper strings. This too, I remember, was fun.
What is perhaps most remarkable as I look back on it now, is that my memory of that Christmas is not one of fear and uncertainty, but of peace. It’s almost hard for me to understand how, in the midst of such a violent and unstable time in my life, my memories could be so dear, so special. In fact, I’ve often said that was the best Christmas ever. How could that be true?
Since childhood I had been taught that God loved me. That God is good. That God is everywhere. I had learned the Bible stories of Daniel in the lions’ den and of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego being thrown into the fiery furnace. I think I was confident of God’s care, even though my life was apparently in danger and my future most uncertain and at risk.
My Bible study had begun to involve the Science and Health my mom had been given. It never ceased to amaze me by explaining and putting into words what was somehow already written in my heart. It was filled with powerful affirmations of God’s saving power and helpful explanations of the mission of Jesus. The book assured me that all things were possible to God and that I could never be separated from Him.
Certainly, the Bible teaches these things, but my study of Science and Health clarified many Bible passages for me and convinced me that what I was learning in the Bible was true. If I was ever in doubt, this book would defend the Bible’s claim and strengthen my trust.
I was not a member of a Church of Christ, Scientist. In fact, I had recently been baptized in another denomination. But it was very natural to include Science and Health with my Bible study. It provided extra assurance that I, too, could be as safe as those Bible characters.
“Love is much stronger than hate and
can dispel fear, uncertainty, and doubt”
Two years later, I did join a Church of Christ, Scientist, and have been blessed in more ways that I could ever have imagined during my childhood.
We made our way up to Dallas after that Christmas, where my mom found a job. I found myself in a new school making new friends. We established a new home, and my mom married the friend who had given her that paperback Science and Health. I even got my dog back. My grandmother had rescued him and cared for him.
And what happened to my dad? He ended his chase, went back to Georgia, and began a new life of his own. I never had the opportunity to see him again, as he passed on several months later. But I like to think that, before he passed on, he was as happy as we were in our new life.
Now, I try to take a few moments every holiday season to remember the Christmas of 1968. Our modest celebration taught me that peace and hope can be felt in the midst of threats of violence; that joy is not dependent on money and circumstances; that love is much stronger than hate and can dispel fear, uncertainty, and doubt.
Oct 13, 2006 |
by Annette Bridges. © 2006. All rights reserved.
I saw this question on a Gallup Tuesday Briefing recently and wondered how many future generations will ask such a question. For over thirty years, Gallup polls have asked Americans their views on the need for war, whether Americans saw war as an outmoded option or as sometimes necessary. I found it interesting, but not surprising, that American viewpoints on the necessity of war changed significantly post 9/11.
It was June 1971, when Gallup first polled Americans on war as a necessary means to resolve conflict and settle differences between nations. At that time when the number of American deaths in Vietnam had surpassed 50,000 and antiwar sentiments where high, 46% of Americans believed war was an outmoded solution while 44% believed war is sometimes necessary.
Against the backdrop of war in Iraq and an ongoing military campaign against terrorism, a recent Gallup poll indicated 24% of Americans felt war is outdated while 73% thought war is sometimes necessary.
What does this change of opinion say about the pulse of America? That Americans are struggling with a loss of hope? That we, individually, feel helpless and powerless? That we believe peace in the world now seems beyond the realm of possibilities? That we fear the war against terrorism is going to be a long and uncertain battle? That we have concluded military action will continue to be inevitable?
Maybe these latest stats speak to a war that is being fought here at home. And I don’t mean the threat against the security of our homeland. I’m talking about the war to crush the American spirit. The siege to conquer our hope, optimism, and faith. How do we fight this enemy?
Suppose every prayer, blessing, kind word or good deed, wears away unjust political, racial, social, economic and geographical distinctions. Suppose every time we replace deceit with honesty, hatred with love, or apathy with compassion, we make way for freedom and brotherhood. And in so doing we combat the enemy that lurks from within our borders and our hearts.
My daughter recently completed an internship at a US Congressman’s office. A lesson she left with was every individual can make a difference. One instance in particular seemed hopeless. But the situation was resolved because hundreds of people made the effort to let their voices be heard. The situation could have been described as unjust and yet because of hundreds of compassionate actions and words, the unjust was changed to what was just and fair. The words of anthropologist Margaret Mead rang loud and true: “Never doubt that the work of a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”
September 11, 2001 resulted in many changes in opinions and actions. Some of these changes were short-lived and some have lingered. Sadly, some really good changes are among those that didn’t last. Remember those first few days following 9/11? When knees were bent. When we wept for people we didn’t know. When we sent money to folks we’ve never seen. When Republicans stood next to Democrats. When news headlines shifted from scandals and sports to families and the future of the world. Some journalists called the changes the “new normal.” We were reminded that the enemy is not each other. Have we forgotten?
An author who lived through the civil war of these United States and also overcome many conflicts in her own life, Mary Baker Eddy, wrote, “No greater hope have we than in right thinking and right acting, and faith in the blessing of fidelity, courage, patience and grace.” While I don’t make the decision for our country as to whether or not war is necessary, I can answer that question for my own life. And as my daughter learned, there is power in each individual, each one of us. Power that results in change. How I think and act can make a difference.
So, in pondering the necessity of war, I’m looking within. If peace begins with me, how about it? Is there peace or is there war? In my marriage? In my family? In my neighborhood? In my church? In my job? And if there is war, perhaps I need to ask myself, is it necessary? Is there another way to act or resolve any conflict?
Maybe peace does begin with each of us. Maybe we do have the power to change the world. Maybe that’s how the world is changed – individual upon individual, family upon family, and so forth. Maybe there is hope for peace in the world and we can have faith in our hope.
