Six years ago I had a revelation: In the United States, I can go for months at a time without needing to rely on God. I know someone will say, “You can’t even BREATHE without relying on God,” and yes, thank you. But practically, being a privileged person living in a privileged country, I am free to rely on myself to succeed in life. Prayers become something more like wishes than declarations of God’s provision. Continue reading
Christian
Elijah’s Depression (originally written 10.1.13)
I’m starting a new bi-weekly series where I will share some of my favorite papers written when I was in seminary studying counseling. They will be about faith, science, and faith + science!
The Bible is not a psychotherapy manual, but the story of Elijah in 1 Kings 19 reveals much about depression, both in how humans experience it and in how God reacts to it. After Elijah witnesses the mighty power of God in burning up sacrifices (1 Ki 18:38-39), wiping out the Baal prophets (1 Ki 18:40), bringing rain after a drought (1 Ki 18:41-45), and empowering him to escape the wrath of Ahab (1 Ki 18:46), one would expect Elijah to feel strong and confident. Jezebel’s death threat (1 Ki 19:2) doesn’t sound all that threatening when God has just performed multiple miracles. Yet Elijah’s response to the threat is to flee to the desert outside Beersheba and lay down to die (1 Ki 19:3-4). This incongruence between experience and reality is normative for depressed persons. Although Elijah has every reason to trust God, he feels weary of his burden and wants his life to end.
Many Christians do not understand depression and therefore react badly to those suffering from it. Well-meaning Christians can give very bad advice that often leads to more guilt rather than deliverance from depression. How comforting, then, is God’s response! Rather than impressing upon Elijah his stupidity in not trusting the almighty God, He sends an angel to feed and care for Elijah (1 Ki 19:5-6). For forty days and nights, the angel gently leads Elijah through the desert to Mount Horeb (1 Ki 19:8-9). God takes care of Elijah’s needs for a month and a half, treating him with over-kindness and silent support. It is not until this loving foundation is laid that God speaks to Elijah and says, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” (1 Ki 19:9). This too is telling. God does not list all the ways in which He has been there for Elijah or guilt Elijah for his lack of trust. Instead, he invites Elijah into a conversation, meeting him where he is rather than demanding more from him than Elijah is capable of giving. Continue reading
Self-Hatred, Legalism, and Grace, Grace, Grace
I distinctly remember sitting on Lindsay T.’s couch on July 4, 2013, drinking from a cheap Strawberry Daquiri Seagram’s bottle. “I don’t know if God loves me,” Lindsay admitted. We had recently upgraded our acquaintanceship to friendship, and this conversation was a milestone. “God loves me when I’m good,” I responded. “But deep down I’m pretty sure He’s just waiting to give up on me if I screw up.”
Just two years later when I graduated from seminary, everything had changed.
I spent three years hearing my professors say things like, “God is not the god of karma, but the God of grace,” and “It is grace that justifies us, sanctifies us, AND glorifies us,” and “When I get to heaven and God asks why I deserve to be there, I’ll just shake my head and whisper, ‘Jesus.'” I spent three years in a church that offered weekly Communion so that we never forgot where our strength comes from. I spent three years in a small group where we argued about abortion and gay marriage and Islam and transsexuality and feminism in safety and love. I spent three years befriending counselors who were delighted to discover my darkest secrets and shared their own with me. I was spoiled with grace.
But then I moved home. The problem with leaving your hometown and changing is that when you return…you revert to your old mental and emotional habits. Or at least, I do. Who was I before I learned to trust in God’s unconditional love? I was the Good Girl. I measured my worth in my modesty, I argued people into heaven, and I covered my possessions in simplistic Christian statements. I was determined to earn people’s approval. I was determined to earn God’s approval. I knew how to work the system, and honestly, it was comforting. Legalism is nothing if not controlling, and I am good at controlling things. Continue reading
Friends, Food, and Spiritual Insight: A Christian Conference in Greece
A few weeks ago, Anthi invited me to join her and some friends in going to Leutraki (near Corinth) for a weekend conference with the Free Evangelicals of Athens. Apparently I have not been attending a Free Evangelical church, but when asked my opinion on free will vs. predestination (“I think they’re both right, but we don’t know how”) I was given clearance to come.
I didn’t expect to learn anything, since the whole conference would be in Greek, but I was super into the location. We stayed at a resort by the sea and paid only €105 for two nights and six buffet meals. That would have been enough to satisfy me, but Anthi made sure to find translators for me during each presentation.
Can we pause a second and talk about how humbling it is to not know a language? There’s the everyday “everyone is talking about something, and I have no idea what it is!” and the similar “oh no, they are asking me to perform and all I can think of is ‘Μιλἀω ελληνικἀ λἰγα αλλἀ νομἰζω οτἰ ξεχνἀω πολὐ’ and I said that last time.” But there’s also the next level up: being translated to while 130 people sit around you. This is maybe an introvert-specific humiliation, since my highest aim in life is to blend in. There’s something so humbling about letting everyone know that you’re alone in your confusion and that you need help. This is a good thing, I think, learning to accept help….I just don’t like the process of learning it. Continue reading
Good Friday – Remembering
Today is Good Friday in the States. The Easter season has only just begun here in Greece – we won’t commemorate Big Friday (as it’s known here, which I like better than calling the day Jesus died “good”). I’m in a strange place of feeling like it’s definitely NOT a Christian holiday today, but also not wanting to let the day go unacknowledged for those in the States. So I’m cheating a little bit and reposting my thoughts from last year’s Good Friday service at my Dallas church, Trinity Fellowship. This is one of my all-time favorite things I’ve ever written. It was an emotional and thoughtful experience, and one that is good for me to remember.
Tonight is Good Friday. I asked to get off work early so I could go to church, where everyone wore black in anticipation of our mourning. Our service was somber, lights dimmed, people hushed. People read the story of Jesus’s arrest, trial, and murder, not as a skit, but as something more than a recitation. The story was interspersed with music, sometimes performed by a choir, by the congregation, by a soloist.
I’ve been learning about the value of walking through Holy Week one day at a time. Too often we jump to Easter, because it is easier to focus on good news and hope and life than to let ourselves sit with disappointment, rejection, fear, and death. But I think it is valuable to walk with Jesus and put ourselves in the shoes of those who knew him, listened to him, trusted in him, and watched him die. Continue reading
Gender Roles as Taught by a Greek Evangelical Church
It was my worst nightmare. On February 14th I entered the church and saw that the bulletin announced that the day’s sermon would be on “Εφεσἱοθς 5:21-33.” Great. Valentine’s Day AND the Ephesians passage on marriage. Always theologically paranoid where gender roles are concerned, I prepared myself to be righteously (and selfishly) annoyed.
Although the pastor taught a differentiation between the roles of husbands and wives, he preached a vision closer to egalitarianism than complementarianism. In the end, the practical application was “both of you put the other first,” although he never quite said that in such explicit terms. We had two weeks of sermons on this topic (one addressed to husbands, another to wives), and I wrote down some of the ideas that stuck out to me most. This is a subject near and dear to my heart, and I was fascinated and excited (eventually) to see another culture’s perspective on the issue.
For Husbands Continue reading
Lenten Reflections: Humility
Anita at Feeling the Light is emailing out contemplative prompts throughout this year’s season of Lent. If you are interested in delving into your own spiritual formation, feel free to take these prompts and answer them for yourselves!
See the poem below. Perhaps meditate on it, see what arises, then write.
Te Deum by Charles Reznikoff, 1894-1976
Not because of victories
I sing,
having none,
but for the common sunshine,
the breeze,
the largess of the spring.Not for victory
but for the day’s work done
as well as I was able;
not for a seat upon the dais
but at the common table.
[Sidenote: I just found out that the Greek Easter is later than the one in the United States, so the Greek Lenten season doesn’t begin until March 14. I think these spiritual formation prompts will be like a pre-Lent spiritual preparation for me, and then when real Lent happens, I will focus on the physical aspect of not eating meat like the rest of the Greeks who will fast. …Will I not eat meat?? I don’t know. I kind of want to, but MEAT.]
Okay, so Reznikoff’s poem. Continue reading
Lenten Spiritual Formation
Anita at Feeling the Light is emailing out contemplative prompts throughout this year’s season of Lent. If you are interested in delving into your own spiritual formation, feel free to take these prompts and answer them for yourselves!
“Hands are amazing. There are few animals in the world who use their hands similar to how humans do. Meditate on these pictures or find other pictures of hands that speak to you in some way. Take pictures of your own hands, or of a loved one’s hands. Notice the contours, lines, shades and shapes. What is the texture of these hands? What do these hands say?”
The prompt feels like it’s leaning towards something empowering or beautiful, but yesterday was Ash Wednesday. As a former Baptist, I’m fairly ignorant about the rhythms of the church calendar, but I’m pretty sure Ash Wednesday is about death. And as I look at my hands, I think of death. Whether it’s the peeling nail polish or the extra lines or the faded scars, my hands are growing older.
So is the rest of me. I have gray hairs now, and it’s a battle to convince myself that I am proud of them rather than ashamed. I started working out a couple months ago because I was alarmed at how easy it was for my skin to start sagging, and I guess I’m trying to postpone the inevitable. My feet hurt after a day of walking. I get headaches when I don’t drink enough water. Jubilant play or dancing only lasts a couple minutes before I’m wheezing for air.
I am frail. My body is beautiful, yes. My body is useful and productive and sometimes efficient. But it’s falling apart, slowly but surely. “From dust you came, and to dust you will return.” Life is meant to be eternal, but it’s not. I believe in the Christian story because my soul feels its truth – I am made for something more than what I have. This world, and this body, is not what it should be. Beauty is shaded with corruption. My hands, which are strong and growing weaker, are capable of both helping someone and harming them. Everything has a dark side. Continue reading
BIG NEWS: We Have a House!
We have had some disappointments during our search for a HD location, and there has been talk of us delaying our opening until July. While driving me to church on Sunday, Dina saw through my fake “everything’s fine” facade and assured me, “Don’t worry about the people who paid for you to be here. God is in control. He knows what he is doing, and when we will open. He is doing something – we have a bank account even though banks are not opening new accounts, and you are here now. We will find out what he is doing when he has made us ready.” I was still lying a little bit when I agreed with her, but she said she spent all day Saturday praying, so I decided to trust her wisdom.
We parked the car and got on the metro. A girl from school happened to be on the red line with us. Veta, her mother, was visiting the city, and she and Dina happily reunited while we walked to the church. After the service, a tiny older lady asked me how HD was doing. “Oh, it’s slow,” I said. “We can’t find a house, and the budget keeps shrinking.” Belatedly, I wondered if I should be telling these things to a stranger, but she had already walked away.
I visited with some other people before circling back to Dina. Her face lit up when she saw me. “We found a house!” she cried. “Um, what?” I asked. Two hours ago we were complaining and doubting (well, I was), and immediately our problems were solved?
“Veta and her husband are old friends of ours, and they have been praying for HD for years. They have a house that they have wanted to be used by a ministry, but they didn’t think that we needed one. Now they are going to let us use it for very cheap, thanks to you!”
“Thanks to me?” I asked. I hadn’t talked to Veta on the metro or at the church.
“You told Mrs. Hill that we didn’t have a house, and she knew Veta was trying to rent one. She told her to talk to me! I told you this morning that God brought you here for a reason.”
Filled with Greek exuberance, I threw my hands in the air, delighted to find that my big mouth had accomplished something wonderful.
Over lunch with Dina and Argyris, we discussed all the benefits of the house. It’s in a good area, it’s private, it’s owned by people they know and trust, and it’s half the price of our already slashed budget.
On Monday, Dina and the other HD women went to the house in the afternoon while I was in Greek school. They loved it. They went over the budget, they talked with important people, and it was decided:
We’re renting the house, and we’re ready to get started ASAP!
I cannot actually comprehend how ridiculous this is. Dina and I talked about trusting God in the morning, and in the afternoon he answered our prayers, and the next day everything is good to go? It’s crazy and exciting and with such perfect timing that I have to see God’s hand at work.
I don’t think this is the end of our obstacles. But this week has strengthened my weak faith – God can, and will, side-step every obstacle with ease. After all, as I keep hearing, this is not our project. God is interested in freeing women from a lifetime of emotional and physical slavery, and he will get the job done, in his uniquely absurd and delightful way.
What Is My Faith Made Of?
“Καλημερα! Καλημερα, Τρισια!” I heard behind me as I turned right in front of the 1896 Olympic Stadium. I turned around. Nir held his arms open. “Like my jacket?” he asked. “My parents bought it for me.”
We discussed our weekends, and he asked about how church works. He asked about Christmas and Easter, and I asked about Yom Kippur and Purim. He said he wasn’t religious, but was I? “Yes,” I said, grimacing. I’ve thought about this before, how much I hate to tell new people that Christianity is a big deal to me. Romans 1:16 runs through my head like an accusation, but I’ve decided that I’m not ashamed of the gospel…I’m ashamed of a lot of the people who go around talking about it.
“What does it mean for you? To be religious or not religious?” Nir asked. Continue reading
It Is Trish 