Create in Me

When I chose the word “recreate” to guide this year, I anticipated it would lead to play, fun, and new expressions of creativity. Instead, I have (re)discovered that to recreate often means ripping things apart, hacking pieces off, grafting in something else, and making a mess, in order to make something new. It can feel more painful than playful. No surprise that my like-minded friend Kelly has been ruminating on that same truth…

re:create recess #16: Kelly Bermudez-Deutsch

I’ve thought a lot about the word re-create as we moved into our new home this summer. I’m still shocked that we were able to buy a home in Northern California. If you’re from this neck of the woods, you know what I mean. And I am beyond thankful. It feels like a miracle, and I am inclined to think that it is. It’s an answered prayer. What felt impossible—like God making a way through parted waters—has happened.

That said, moving into our new home has reminded me that the process of recreating creates other things, too. Things I don’t automatically welcome into my life without some degree of hesitation or outright opposition.

Recreating invites change. It creates disorganization in some spaces and more organization in others. It allows you to re-envision your possessions. Sometimes it makes old things new. Often it means letting go. Recreation creates a mess. Recreating my home helped me recognize that the process of re-creation in any area of life doesn’t come without some measure of loss, chaos, frustration and stress. Negative emotions may be part of the process.

When I first gave my life to Jesus, I was seventeen years old. Full of youthful optimism and ready to help God “change the world,” I went on the mission field to know God more and tell others about Him. During that season, God did amazing things. I experienced euphoric moments when my heart felt so full that Christ’s love oozed onto others. There were also unexpected, confusing, and hard moments.

As a new Christian, I honestly felt like I wanted to scratch out parts of the Bible. I don’t mean that to sound sacrilegious. It’s just that the Bible has some hard things to say about “forgiving others,” “not seeking vengeance,” and going through difficult situations with “pure joy and a thankful heart.” These Scriptures befuddled me. I couldn’t grasp this idea that joy could be found in something I experienced as disappointing, or worse, heartbreaking.

I figured some parts must have been inaccurately translated from Hebrew to Greek. God couldn’t really want us to “rejoice when others persecute us” or “turn the other cheek,” to take more abuse from someone unkind. What God asked me to do in hurtful and difficult situations seemed counterintuitive. There had to be a mistake.

But the more I studied the Scriptures—exploring the cultural context in which they were written and what Greek and Hebrew words originally meant—I realized there was no misprint or misinterpretation of language. God didn’t only tell us what to do; through Christ He showed us how to live in our messy world, too.

I know many Christians feel overjoyed by understanding how God demonstrated His incredible love. That they have a tangible example of what God looks like in human flesh. And truly, it is extraordinary. But honestly, I didn’t share their excitement. Deep down, I knew what that meant…

I’m a pretty self-aware person. I know my heart and the depth of self-centeredness that lives there. Some people seem to be naturally less selfish and more servant-hearted than I am. But if I’m behaving sacrificially in any way, I definitely want something. If I don’t get enough attention or praise for what I deem to be a sacrificial act on my part, I get upset that others didn’t notice or appreciate it. I may not even be aware of what I’m after, but I know myself.

That’s why the way of Christ seemed so disheartening to me: I knew I couldn’t live it. Maybe for a little while every day, maybe on Sunday mornings or in Bible study, but not in the nitty gritty of everyday life. Not when people are downright mean. Not when I perceive injustice. Not when I feel like family, friends, or co-workers are pooping all over me. No way. It’s just not the way I’m made.

That’s how I knew God was going to have to remake me. Recreate my heart. Change the fiber of my being from the inside out. I didn’t need a make-over. I needed to become a new creation.

It’s a humbling and liberating thing to know that you cannot please God in your own strength. His power in you transforms you and makes you new. I’m so grateful that “He died for all so that all who live—having received eternal life from him—might live no longer for themselves, to please themselves, but to spend their lives pleasing Christ who died and rose again for them. When someone becomes a Christian, he becomes a brand new person inside. He is not the same anymore. A new life has begun!” (2 Corinthians 5:15,17)

I write this to encourage you. Until this summer, I had forgotten that re-creation creates other things as well. Frustration. Upheaval. Unintended messes. Unanticipated change. As much as you can, try to give thanks when something in your life feels upside-down, sideways, or discombobulated. Remember that God has made you into a new creation and that creation invites change.

If you’re anything like me, part of you will be deeply uncomfortable with that. Take comfort from Romans 8:27-28: “He knows us far better than we know ourselves… That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good” (Romans 8:27-28, MSG). If we keep that in mind, we actually can do what God says and it won’t seem crazy. “Is your life full of difficulties and temptations? Then be happy, for when the way is rough, your patience has a chance to grow. So let it grow, and don’t try to squirm out of your problems. For when your patience is finally in full bloom, then you will be ready for anything, strong in character, full and complete” (James 1:2-4, TLB).

Kelly Bermudez-Deutsch lives in Northern California with her sexy husband, three beautifully quirky kids, a dog named Lucy and a cat named Jack. She loves spending time with her family, good friends and good books. She hopes that one day her home will be organized and tidy, but until then finds joy in the messiness of life and love.

The Church: Traveling Together

What seems like a bazillion years ago, I participated in a high school marching band (sorry, no humiliating pictures available – I did look, I promise). Before freshman year, I registered to be the pianist/accompanist for Beginning Orchestra; unbeknownst to me, everyone quit and the band director transferred me to Marching Band. And the trombone, because the band obviously did not need a pianist yet needed a trombonist.

It will require a separate soul-searching sesh to figure out why I roll with some punches and not others, why I allowed this change to be made on my behalf rather than asserting a desire to try, oh let’s say, writing, journalism, or yearbook. Whatever. I learned a few things.

I found a community. The band room became my safe haven in the large, scary ‘world’ of high school. People knew me, nick-named me (“Huggy Bear,” because I bounded a few steps, dropped my backpack, hugged, and bounded off a few more steps – repeat, repeat, repeat), teased me, loved me, encouraged and challenged me. And yes, we got into some trouble together, too; I have to remember that as I parent a high school kid of my own.

marching-band-md

Staying in step is crucial. Take a clumsy pianist who’d rather take a seat, thank you very much, put an unfamiliar instrument in her hands and to her face, and then make her march in step down streets and around fields in formation… Who thought this was a good idea? And yet it was a whole lotta fun, until we had to listen to tapes of the judges’ comments and hear them yelling, “Low Brass, out of step!” Later, when I thought maybe switching to xylophone might be at least keyboard-friendly, we heard even more, “Percussion, out of step!” Because marching with a xylophone strapped to your shoulders prevents one’s ability to see their own feet (and hurts your back. I don’t recommend). And you have to move both feet and both hands and, oh, it’s All Too Much! But it’s part of the game, so you practice it all the more.

marching-band-md

The music is the message. Left-right-left-step aside (and to think I dated the Drum Major for much of this experience – he must have been chagrined at my lack of rhythm, considering my musicality), the band had music to share. We loved playing together, being together, laughing and making music. As a dear friend recently pointed out, so much of life is work; even when you work at it, music is play, and the very best sort. We made melody and harmony together, and we had a gift to offer even when we were too-often out of step with one another.

marching-band-md

Staying in step together puts you out of step with the crowd. At our best, our notes sounded in tune and our feet hit the pavement/field in synch. But we were only in tune and in step with each other. The crowds watched and listened. They might have tapped a toe, clapped or what-not to the music, but they didn’t march with us. Marching defined us as a band, a unit, a family, distinct from onlookers.

So what’s this got to do with Church?

I listened to our pastor preach this morning on the Church, on Christ as Head of the Body, and how we all fit as God ordains, with unique positions and roles to play. And I listened as the choir and congregation sang – some more on-key and -beat than others – beautiful, joyful noise unto the Lord. And together we observed Communion, received that blessed grace God has given as a remembrance of the great gift of His Son Jesus Christ, as a defining mark of His family, the Church.

And I kept thinking about our high school band. That we belonged together. That we were in step and in tune, and when we weren’t, we dealt with it together. That together we had something to share with others who were not us. That we needed each other, and that others needed us.

Sometimes these metaphors surprise me. As much as “Band Geek” sometimes sounded like a slur, and the uniforms were universally unflattering (who looks good in a fringe-covered marshmallow hat?), I am grateful to have played with the band. C’mon, friends, C’mon, Church, let’s make beautiful noise for the Lord.

Connect
Share about a memorable trip you took with others.

Study
Read aloud 2 Corinthians 5:11-20.
Paul states several reasons why he must share the good news. What are his reasons?
How are “fear of the Lord” and “Christ’s love” complimentary and in tension as motivations, and how do they motivate us to share Christ (vv. 11, 14)?
Of what is Paul “convinced,” and what implications does that have for the Christian life (vv. 14-15)?
What does it mean to “regard no one from a worldly point of view?” (v. 16)
What does it mean to be “in Christ” (v. 17)?
Define “reconciliation.” Explain the ministry and message of reconciliation. What does it mean to be “Christ’s ambassador”?

Live
In your experience of sharing Christ, what has been your primary motivation?
What would it take for you to begin to see people from God’s perspective rather than a worldly perspective?
What do you need to feel equipped and encouraged to take up the ministry of reconciliation?
For whose sake right now in your life has God made you an ambassador of Christ?
What could you do as a small group to live out the ministry of reconciliation together?
What is Jesus saying to you through this passage and how will you respond?

Pray
Pray that God will direct you to people who are open to hearing the good news of Jesus Christ.