bad blogger! bad blogger!

So this week has been a bit of a blur… sorry for the lack of new posts. Or decent ones.

I’m hitting a bit of a panic mode here… deadline for my NewLife small group material project is the end of this week (hence the lack of posts)… and so I’ve taken the day off at the law office to head over to NL’s office to bust these puppies out. It will be a sheer miracle if all is done on time. (I’m still receiving the stuff I need from other staff so that I’m able do my part, so it’s a little crazy… we’re all running behind, but I’m the last one it hits before deadline, so I’m feeling the pressure).

I’d appreciate your prayers, as I want this to be a God-breathed project, not Stacey-breathed. I want it to be a useful tool for our groups, one that helps people grow… closer to Christ, and closer to each other.

I just have so little time, so I need even more of God to see this thing through.

Blessings, dear friends, and thanks. Whatever you’re facing today… God is more than enough to see you through.

C’mon, just two more!!!

The game is starting right this very moment…

Go Sox!

yep, he opened it up… welcome to the can of worms

"Now, I fully understand that the difference between a person following Christ and a person not following Christ is the difference between a living breathing person and a corpse. I get that. We’ve crossed over from death to life. Heaven and hell are real."

Are the 4,273,554,000 people who don’t follow Christ going to Hell? If you were born in India, and you had never heard the gospel, would you go to Hell? I don’t get the corpse analogy. Curious curious.

A friend of mine posted this comment recently and it’s a really good question. A really good question. I was going to respond via email, but J, you don’t have your email address anywhere handy, so I guess here’s as good a place as any… I think perhaps I was just trying to avoid public scrutiny, but maybe that was just chicken of me anyway… I know this will be a long one, but it’s not to slam your question, it’s just to provide the best answer I know how to… so bear with me.

J, first let me say that I appreciate the respect with which you posed the question. A lot of people would’ve said something more to the effect of "OK you wacko religious nutjob…" or something fun like that. I’m glad that we’re friends in real life, (not just in computer-land) and that you’d be gutsy enough to call me on something and ask a question that a lot of people wouldn’t ask. They’d just write me off as, well, a religious psycho, and move on to the next blog. Thank you.

Second, let me say that while I’ve learned a lot, especially in this past few years, I don’t have all the answers. I’ve wrestled quite a bit with my faith, with why it is exactly that I believe what I believe… because I never wanted to be one of those kids who just believed because their parents did, or because they were raised in church. (In fact, maybe the fact that I still believe despite being raised in church is a testimony to the fact that there is, indeed a God – as this is a miracle in itself). I’ve thought through this a lot, but all the same, I for sure don’t have all the answers. What conclusions I do feel I’ve come to, I offer humbly, as someone who still is figuring things out… I hope that comes across. I respect you (geez, I’ve known you since I was nine), and I respect your question. So here I go. I’d recommend reading this in two parts, as it’s ridiculously long (but necessarily so).

(Sometimes Christians have a tendency to be self-righteous windbags when someone questions an aspect of their faith… if you can’t tell, this is me trying not to be).

PART ONE

OK, so here goes. I’ll start with the corpse analogy. The Bible recognizes strongly that we are not only our bodies, we are not only our physical being. What separates us from any other life on earth is the fact that we have not only physical life, but spiritual life as well – we have souls, spirits, whatever you want to call it, but we are more than just flesh and bone.

We as human beings, because of sin, live separated from true relationship with God. We are physically very much alive, but spiritually empty. You could even say spiritually dead. The corpse analogy came from a verse in John (5.24) where Jesus said, "I tell you the truth, whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life and will not be condemned; he has crossed over from death to life."

In a conversation Jesus had with a guy named Nicodemus (also in John, chapter 3), Jesus introduces the concept of being born again. I think it’s significant that this conversation took place with a guy like Nicodemus. Nic was one of the most religious, the most pious of his day. He observed all the Jewish law; if there was anyone who you’d think had his stuff together, it was Nic. If there was anyone who would earn God’s favor by being a "good man", it was this guy. And yet Jesus says, "You must be born again."

Nic’s a smart guy: "How can a man be born when he is old? Surely he can’t go back into his mother’s womb to be born!" (3.4)

Jesus continues on in his explanation, but here’s the kicker: "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life." (3.16) "For God didn’t send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him."

Later in John, a guy named Thomas asks Jesus, "Lord, we don’t know where you’re going … how can we know the way?" Jesus’ response is this: "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me."

Jesus is pretty clear that he is the one way to relationship with God. He says it several times, just to take care of any lingering questions.

This is pretty unpopular in today’s culture. We’re much more comfortable with relativism – whatever’s truth to you is truth. I have my truth, you can have your truth, and somehow those can reconcile, because then we’ll never really have to have the courage to disagree with one another or ask tough questions. But is that really compatible with what we know of the world? Believing the world is flat doesn’t make it so. Our court system shows pretty clearly that it believes there is a person who is right, and a person who is wrong. We can’t all be right. We can’t pack our truth on our backs and take it wherever we feel like going. If that were so, there would never be any such thing as "verdict: guilty." As much as I wish sometimes I could determine my own truth, I think I’d be more comfortable with that… it’s not so. So why do I believe what I believe? Why, of all the ways that I could see the world, why do I choose to see it this particular way?

Jesus said, "I am the way." "I am the only way."

So why would I believe him? Why would I accept this belief, and by doing so, reject others? A lot of people believe that Jesus was a good man. They think he was even a good prophet. But they hesitate to call him God, because as soon as he’s God, then there’s some weight to it. But how could Jesus be a good man, a good prophet… and be a liar at the same moment? One guy put it this way: "Jesus Christ was either a liar, a lunatic, or he’s Lord."

There have been other men to think that they are God’s gift… we know them today as the biggest dictators and all-around-psychos the world has ever seen. They built themselves up, they made themselves big in the eyes of mankind… typically they forced their mindset on those they overpowered. (I won’t speak of how Christians have historically done this… I shudder).

Here’s what gets my attention: Jesus didn’t come to be served, but to serve. Jesus healed the sick and the lame and the deaf and the blind. He performed crazy miracles (prompting Nicodemus to question him in the first place: "Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher come from God, for no one could do the miraculous signs you are doing if God were not with him") (Even non-Biblical accounts support Jesus’ miracles — the writings of Josephus, for one) The world’s lowly, he loved. The social outcasts, the ones who were considered sinful and messed up and broken — these are who Jesus spent his time with. In the end, he let himself be put to death on the Cross — all as one big giant message to humanity from God: Yeah, you blew it. Yeah, you’ve been trying to get it together ever since, and continuing to blow it. But I’m not okay with leaving it there. Come back. I’ve made a way. He made it abundantly clear that it’s not our works that matter; it’s not our having our stuff together in our own strength that counts. As one person said, the distance between the farthest person from God and the closest person to God is about an inch, when compared to the distance between the closest person to God, and God hi
mself (which stretches on practically forever in comparison). We can’t do it on our own. That’s why Christ was sent. Jesus, full of grace and truth. Full of grace, because he says "I accept you, even where you’re at. You don’t have to have it together to come." Full of truth, because he says, "Come through Me."

The one way that Christ and his message are different than every other religion is that it doesn’t say "Get it all together. Do all these good things." It doesn’t say, "Look within." It doesn’t say that truth is to be found in our own meditations, our own good deeds, our own inner peace. Every other religion says that freedom and redemption are found in one thing: ourselves. And not to be a pessimist, but I don’t think there’s a whole lot of evidence that says we’ve done a super great job of that. Christianity admits that we can’t save ourselves and admits the need for someOne greater. Christianity is the only religion that provides a savior.

PART TWO

OK on to the hard part of your question. Do those who never hear of Christ go into eternity without him? Ouch. The Sunday school answer I learned would’ve been a casual "Yes, of course they do." Then the sheer magnitude of that answer hit me; broke my heart. Could it really be so? And further still, I began thinking. As wholly uncomfortable as this makes me, there are a few pretty huge things that lead me to think, yes, it’s true.

First: In Matthew 28.19, one of the last things Jesus says before he ascends into heaven (with quite a few people watching, I might add)… is this: "Go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I’ll be with you, to the end of the age." Jesus seems to think this is pretty important. Being one of the last things he says to Christ-followers, it seems to matter. Second: if it were unimportant, if there were other ways, such as by being a "good" person, then why would Christ command we go out? Wouldn’t he say not to tell people… because here’s the thing: if someone has never heard of Christ, and they die, and God says, okay, no problem… then I should probably tell as few people as possible. Because once I tell them, they’re now responsible. It’s like, congratulations: I’ve just told you news that, if you reject it, will send you into an eternity separated from God. Haven’t I just done you a great favor?

I hope this makes sense. I’m doing my best.

Honestly, I don’t know for sure how it all works. There are some parts to this that stretch me, your question being one of the major ones. I’m sure it would be much more impressive to act like I’m smug and comfortable, have it all figured out, but I have to admit to you that I don’t. All I know is that the love and grace I’ve found in my relationship with God through Jesus Christ has changed my life… has taken me from death to life. Like a particular blind man said when everyone was questioning him on exactly who this Jesus was that had healed him (some of the super-religious types were upset and calling Jesus wicked because Jesus had the nerve to heal the man on a holy day): "One thing I do know. I was blind but now I see!"

Most of what you’ve read here has been a story of my discovery of that grace, so I won’t rehash that here. This post is stinkin’ long already. But let there be no doubt: what’s happening in my life that I write about so gratefully on this little piece of the web is all because of the grace of Christ.

Here’s what you’ve reminded me of, J: The truth is, I don’t think Christians (myself included) let themselves feel the gravity of this whole thing. We live selfish, comfortable lives, a lot of times… only a few of us have the balls to go out into India and China and wherever it is that people haven’t heard. Heck, only a few us us have enough to even live a life that reflects Christ even in our own country. If Christ is who he says he is… if I claim to follow Christ… then my life has to look a whole lot more like his. My life has got to be more grace-filled. I need to serve those who the world rejects as unlovely or unpopular or unworthy. I need to be more humble. I need to be more willing to speak the truth more often, instead of waiting for a gutsy question from a friend to give me the excuse. I believe that God is at work in me to make me more of all these things.

The question you asked was this: Do people who don’t hear the gospel really go to hell? The deeper question that is hitting me is this: If you really believe that, Stacey Rich, then how is your life preventing that? How are Christians reaching out and serving… instead of hanging out in their cool church buildings, fat and happy now that they’ve made it in?

The one thing that will matter at the end of my life is this: Was my life a picture of the love of Christ to those around me? Did I serve, was I full of grace and truth like Jesus was?

J, your question, although it could’ve been posed for any number of reasons (I haven’t wholly disregarded the possibility that it may have been out of a wondering if your friend is really one of those uber-religious crazies)… it reminded me of some things I needed to be reminded of. I hope that I answered you with some sense of clarity – I know it was long, and involved. Email me if something didn’t make sense, or if you’ve got more questions… I think you started with the toughest one, so maybe the next one could be easier, I don’t know (but then again you’re wicked smart, so we’ll see…).

Thank you J. Whether or not you agree, thanks for respecting me enough to ask. Be blessed.

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mom and dad… awww… 

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mom and stace 

life at the casa de rico, volume I: refrigerator poetry

I was looking at our fridge last night, and thought to myself, “Self, the talent represented here, the pure artistic genius of this, your fridge, is too good to be kept a secret. It must be shared with the world.” I do have to say, that the soon-to-be-classic “Your Roses Smell of Death” is not mine. Kevin brought that one to life. Check his bitter self out! (By the way, we are once again happy campers, in case any were curious. All is peaceful and well once again in our goodwill-furniture-littered abode. After venting last night via post, I went to the kitchen for a glass of water and we shared a gut-laugh over the South Park special that was on… how can everything not be ok after that?).

Yes, and we ARE ninja. Just in case there was any doubt/speculation.

Today was one of those come-home-change-straight-int0-pjs type of night, as it’s rainy and cold out, and I desperately needed a night to take ‘er easy. Happy to slow down for a moment. And, if miracles DO happen, I may get some writing done on my small group stuff, but we’ll see. I took pictures of my refrigerator ten minutes ago… not super hopeful that any sort of useful work ethic will kick in during this next few hours. Hmmm… glad I’ve set aside tomorrow to go drink unholy amounts of coffee at B&N and get these puppies done…

What a good night it’s been; not to have to do, just to be. Not as good as if I’d been able to share in the joy of watching old folks’ karaoke at the VFW, I mean, what could compare with that? I’d like to know. But we can’t all have the good life all the time. (Thanks for the call, kids, you made me smile, you made my night).

Wherever this Friday night has you, out partying with the Golden Girls, or kickin’ it, loner style, be blessed.

[Any ideas for life, volume 2, I'm taking suggestions. I started out with pictures of my fridge magnets... there's nowhere to go but up].

the one I love the least (most)

Today at our intern meeting we talked about being full of truth and grace. Wes posed to us the question: If you err on one side, is it more on the side of truth, or grace? Not that one can be too truthful — he referred to being too harsh. And not that one can be overly gracious — he referred to being a bit too soft.

It’s funny the dynamics that are represented even in such a small group. Two recognized their tendency toward erring more on the side of truth, as they’re sometimes brutally blunt — and the other two of us are historically a bit too soft — taking a long apologetic time to get to what we’re afraid to say, if we say it at all.
(Wes & Kenn called me out on being a strange combo — gracious toward others, and ridiculously harsh on myself… hmmm, I don’t know any writers who fit that description). But we’re all growing, trying to become more like Christ in all these things, and it’s great to know that we’re not who we used to be.

We talked about criticism… and how we find out how gracious we really are when it is leveled at us. The thing is, if criticism is 100% untrue, it doesn’t really affect us. We glance at it, say, “Well, that’s untrue,” and move on. But what happens if it’s 90% untrue? Or 50% untrue? Yeah. All hell breaks loose, because we’re out to defend that 50% with all the fight that’s in us. We also talked about how we get a glimpse at how gracious we’ll be toward our future family when we look at how we treat our family now. I nodded, thinking how true it is.

So what did I do? I picked a stupid fight with my brother over something he said to me when he got home from work. I knew five minutes into it that I was wrong. Did I back my truck up and apologize? Nope. That would be way too smart. Instead I stubbornly dug my heels in, was a total, well, you know, and what could’ve been solved in five minutes turned into a forty-five minute long argument. In circles. Which, with me still getting over being sick and him tired from work, is what neither of us needed. Would I say these same things to a roommate I didn’t share genes with? I would hope not. Augh. How we take one another for granted because we feel we can. I don’t have a temper often, but if anyone has seen it, it’s my family.

“I only love God as much as the person I love the least.” – mother teresa

Would the same be said for grace? Probably. I’m known for being gracious, and then come home and am the most graceless person I’m capable of being. Good move. How gracious am I, really, when that’s the case?

The only good result is that our apartment’s pretty clean (when I get good and angry, I clean like a maniac).

I’ve apologized to him. We’ll be fine. But the fact remains that we really only have about a month and a half left to live together… it occurred to me as I vaccuumed the carpet within an inch of its life that I contributed to negative memories Kevo may have of this grand experiment called sibling-as-roommate. That was a harsh realization to come to. We have a great relationship, and although it’s been stretched by sharing the same space, we’ll continue to be close. But the fact remains that I don’t get that moment back. Or others when I was less than gracious because I knew I could get away with it. Hopefully when this situation comes back around (and I know it will, as long as there are dishes in the sink, there will be dumb arguments about who left them there) I’ll remember this ache and these frustrated tears and hold my tongue, and be, simply, like Jesus. Jesus, full of truth and grace. Jesus, the non-jerk.

The ones we truly love the most are the ones we struggle the most to truly love. Bitter, huh? But also one of the most beautiful parts of God’s plan, that he’d put people in our lives who see in vivid detail our rough edges, regularly, and yet they love us even as the rough edges are being smoothed away. Smoothed, of course, by the day-to-day grind of humans sharing an apartment and a kitchen and a rice cooker.

(God, make me more like you. It’ll take a lifetime, no doubt. But please don’t give up).

(the children normally play so nicely together)

the missing

Last night we met at our friend Jeremy’s place for small group. He lives on the beach, literally about ten feet from Hood Canal, blessed with a view of mountains covered in fog and evergreen, diving directly into the calm waters below. We built (the boys built) a bonfire on the beach, and after eating our fill of hotdogs and s’mores (and running to the living room to check the score of the Sox game from time to time), we began talking about the book we’re reading, the ways we’re being stretched, the stuff God’s been doing in our lives.

I love sitting around a fire – the light dancing in people’s eyes, the golden glow of each face in the shadows, the shared warmth & shared smoke whenever the wind switches directions – they all make for a special atmosphere. The only thing that could’ve improved it was a guitar or two… another time, perhaps.

It was my turn to lead/facilitate the discussion. This is something I’m quite comfortable doing with teenagers; toss me in there, and I’m fully confident. It’s a little more difficult when leading a discussion with peers and people at least a decade older than me. I’m having to learn to get comfortable with letting a question hang out there for a few seconds; letting there be a silence while people process and think; being brave and creative in finding ways to draw people out into the discussion. It was a stretch for little miss communication major – sometimes that few seconds of silence following a question felt like an eternity – but overall, I think it was a good discussion.

One of the more interesting topics that came up was one person’s frustration with reading chapter on reconciliation – on stepping out and making things right. She was touched as she read, but then found herself disappointed and frustrated as all the emphasis was placed on making things right with believers. Not with other human beings in general. With believers. Another person mentioned that he saw a lot of unbeliever vs. believer talk… and he wasn’t sure what to do with that. I knew what he was thinking, because I was thinking about it too. What are unbelievers? Chopped liver? (and the unspoken question that hung in the air… Is that how you saw me just a few months ago or a year ago? Is that how I’m being asked to see my "unbeliever" friends now?)

They brought up a good point, something I hadn’t really noticed before. I read over that stuff and don’t even think twice about it, many times. My default mode is to take any encouragement to love, to forgive, to bless, as inclusive of any I may come in contact with, believer or not. I kind of skim over the distinctions. I love Rick Warren’s book, I hope to actually read the whole thing someday, but this misunderstanding of a few pages of his book brought to light some deeper issues regarding how we view ourselves and those we’re called to.

I thought about it all the way home. I have to admit, sometimes, that this is how a lot of it probably sounds: We want as many people as possible to join our club. But only be nice to people who are already in the club. People outside the club are misguided, and more often than not, they’re bad. It’s a hard fight against those outside the club, but we’ll persevere. If any of them (for some reason) really really really want to be a part of the club, we’ll let ‘em in… so long as they look, think, and talk like us right away.

I’ve been in the clubhouse a long time, and I’m glad there are newer folks around… my heart and ears need to be made sensitive again. Some of the words and phrases we are so used to in our Christian-clubhouse-conversations… they have a greater impact than we realize… not just on those around us, but on us and our perspective as well.

Unsaved. Lost. Unbeliever. Sinner. Saint. The Church. The World. Us. Them.

Now, I fully understand that the difference between a person following Christ and a person not following Christ is the difference between a living breathing person and a corpse. I get that. We’ve crossed over from death to life. Heaven and hell are real.

But if we could really hear ourselves sometimes, I think we turn things adversarial when they were never meant to be. Who is the real enemy? Is it really the unsaved? The unbeliever? We sometimes talk so disparagingly of those we’re supposedly reaching out to… and never realize it til we think we’re in an all-Christian arena and start unpacking our frustrations at "the world" and realize that the empty chair we prayed over last week at group is actually filled this week with a person from out there in the world. Gulp. Foot in mouth, perhaps?

You can’t fight people and fight for them at the same time. The fact is, people who aren’t yet following Christ are not enemies of his family, they are MISSING from his family. There is a place set for them at the table, and they aren’t there. All the blessings you know and experience and take for granted on a regular basis as you sit there at the table? They’re living without them. They’re missing from the feast. If that doesn’t break our hearts, maybe we need to leave the table for a while, get out of the clubhouse, and see the spiritual starvation that exists all around us. It’s real. We can either sit in the clubhouse and complain about how crazy those starving people out there are acting and how tough they’re making it on us, or we can be Christ’s hands and feet and start serving them up some grace and love and forgiveness– the only real food we have to offer in this world.

Yeah, yeah, I know. File this one under rants. But it’s what I’ve been wrestling with today, so… if there’s a shred of discernable truth in it, let it hit you. If not, I’ll just let it hit me.

Be blessed today… pass your blessings on today… invite someone else to the table… amen.

the yanks got spanked!

In case you were in a cave somewhere, NY and their team got a whopping dose of bum-whoopin’ last night… it was beautiful.

Those of us who prayed for the smiting (smitation?) of the Yankees were shown that 1) God heard our prayers; and 2) He still works absolute miracles.

I love baseball.

(An actual post may follow a bit later today. Til then, smile. Everyone but those in NY have a reason to).

my cup runneth over (with pennies)

Some pennies this week:

- Jules, on her way to cover a babysitting job for me, stopped by my apartment tonight with a surprise care package. Inside: two cans of chicken noodle soup, these strawberry vitamin C drops that I developed an addiction to over the weekend, a Barnes & Noble gift card, and a ticket to a Frank Sinatra Tribute (!) at the Admiral Theater in a few weeks (Girl, you know how to bless me… that TOTALLY made my week. Seriously. Thank you thank you thank you).

- The Sox are still in it, they’ve come back from being down three to force a game 7! Didn’t get to see the whole game, but saw the only inning that mattered… four runs in the fourth! Way to kick some Yankee tail.

- Mom, Wes, and Lil all made a big fat deal over the fact that they thought I looked nice yesterday. To the point of near-embarrassment. But I smiled a little bigger all day. (Amazing what happens when you straighten your hair. Apparently it’s my secret weapon… at least, according to Julie, who refers to it as “breakin’ out the big guns”)

- At B&N last night, trying to work on my NewLife project through my headache, in serious need of a break and some encouragement, my phone rang. A welcome friendly voice was on the other end. Sometimes it’s just nice to know someone thought of you, and cared enough to dial up just because.

- It poured down rain today. And then sunshined in the afternoon. And then rained again. Absolutely beautiful.

- Rachel, one of my closest friends from Bellingham, called me today to tell me the big news, she and Ryan got engaged this past weekend! And, of course, I got to hear all the sweet details. (It involved camping, fishing, a candlelit dinner in the woods… way to go Ryan!)

- Had coffee with Grace tonight at the Lighthouse Cafe in Old Town Silverdale, quickly becoming my new favorite coffee joint. Big red leather couches that you can take your shoes off and curl up in… soft piano/jazz playing, candlelight, good coffee… absolutely wonderful. Got to continue reading this novel I’ve been digesting the past few weeks before she arrived, a nice moment of peace. Then we got to talk about the fast-approaching wedding and just took some time to catch up, talk about what God’s up to. What wonderful stories God is weaving in our lives.

- It occurs to me that I am rich in friendship, laughter, and love. I am rich in all the things that matter.

That’s all I’ve got for now, goodnight.