Hold On

The following is a sermon I wrote for a fictitious funeral. It was preached in my Introduction to Preaching course at Princeton Theological Seminary. The assignment was to use a Psalm of our choice in the context of a specific scenario. I used Psalm 31 for the following scenario: “Graveside services will be held for Katy Swank, a thirty year old mother of two who committed suicide this past Sunday. While Katy’s name has been on the church roll since childhood, she had not attended service at the local church for the past twenty years. Her children have been active participants in the church’s youth ministry program and had recently been baptized. She leaves to mourn her passing a devoted husband, a mother and father, and two children ages eight and ten.”

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We gather in grief and sorrow to mourn the loss of Katy Swank. I didn’t know Katy that well personally. We've only had a few interactions here and there throughout the past couple of months. Usually it was a wave or a nod when she came to pick up her kids after children’s choir on Wednesday evenings. And although these interactions were small and few and although I never really got to know Katy, when her parents asked me to preach at her funeral today, I knew I could tell Katy’s story through the lives of others. Because although I didn’t know Katy, I do know the people that loved her most, the people that now hold on to her spirit. 

I met Katy’s parents, Dave and Linda, about two years ago. Both were freshly into retirement and had just moved back to Princeton to be closer to Katy and her family. This had been Dave and Linda’s home church until they moved, along with Katy, to Florida in 1996. Upon our first meeting, they told me they had a lot of memories in this church. This was the church was Katy and her siblings were baptized in was baptized in; this was the church Katy’s little brother Tom was baptized in, and this is the church was Tom’s funeral was held when he passed away at the age of eight. It was this last reason that Katy left the church – it was a memory to painful to hold onto. And although Katy had left the church, Dave and Linda said they were to be back in this congregation.  

A few months after, I met Katy’s two children, Carleigh and Sam. Dave and Linda decided it was time to take the two the church. I remember my first encounter with them. Both of them were holding onto grandpa and grandma. Carleigh had this wide-eyed look of wonder and curiosity while Sam hid behind them. The weeks went by and soon Carleigh and Sam were a part of our Sunday School classes as well as our Children’s Choir. They always seem to just love it here. Soon this holding on turned into Careligh and Sam dragging grandpa and grandma everywhere through the church.

Well, it came as no surprise when Linda approached me about baptizing the two. They had become such an active part of our youth ministry, and so I told Linda that we could look into this after having a conversation with Carleigh and Sam’s parents. Unfortunately, Katy was busy, but her husband agreed to meet. And that’s when I met Andrew. And so the five of us sat down Dave, Linda, Andrew, Carleigh, and Sam, and discussed what it meant for the latter two to be baptized and how it meant that would be sealing their Christian identity that God has always been holding onto. And after getting Carleigh and Sam’s permission as they are now eight and ten, just a few short weeks ago, we baptized the two in front of our congregation. Katy was unable to attend, but she sent me a card that read, “Thank you. Peace, Katy.

So like I said, I didn’t know Katy, but I do know that she is at peace knowing that her family is here right now in this moment. I know that this was something she was holding onto. This is your home. And now, in your time of grief, this is your refuge. God is your refuge. This is where God has called you to be, even if right now we are here in grief and sorrow.

In our Psalm today, we have a voice crying out in lament:

“Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am in distress.

My eye wastes away from grief, my soul and body also.

For my life is spent with sorrow, and my years with sighing.

My strength fails away because of my misery, and my bones waste away.

I have passed out of mind like one who is dead; I have become like a broken vessel.”

There is a grief so overwhelming the body feels like its wasting away. There is a life filled with sorrow and pain. There is great distress that strength seems to be failing. There is brokenness. And so you so you ask yourself these questions. Am I feeling something similar to this Psalm? Am I able to put myself into this Psalm as a part of God’s story? And if this is God’s story, where’s the redemption or salvation – where’s the grace or the love? How can I be comforted?

Find comfort in God. In the abundance of goodness that is our God. In the steadfast love and in the rewards of faithfulness. In an eternal presence and in a unbreakable defense. That is our God. We can find comfort in God’s loving hands.

Because in this Psalm – this very same Psalm of lament – we have that same voice crying out something much greater:

In you, O Lord, I seek refuge;

    do not let me ever be put to shame;

    in your righteousness deliver me.

Incline your ear to me;

    rescue me speedily.

Be a rock of refuge for me,

    a strong fortress to save me.

You are indeed my rock and my fortress;

    for your name’s sake lead me and guide me,

take me out of the net that is hidden for me,

    for you are my refuge.

Into your hand I commit my spirit;

    you have redeemed me, O Lord, faithful God.

But I trust in you, O Lord;

    I say, “You are my God.”

You see in the Psalm, we can feel the grief of the writer. We can feel the pain and the anguish. We can see the writer desperately calling out for God. Because despite all of this grief, pain, and anguish, the writer knows that our God is greater than that. That our God is stronger and more reliable than all of that! We see the writer shout out, “You are my Rock! You are my fortress! You are my God!”Because that is exactly what our God is. Our God just is. Our God is our rock. God is our fortress. God is our redeemer, our savior, our defense, our hiding place, our shelter. Our God is our God. Our God is.

We have a God that can do anything – a God that can choose to be anything. And the choice that was made was God chose to be our loving God. A God whose hand is reaching out to each of us to grab on tight. A hand that that also holds the spirit of Jesus because in Luke 23:46, Jesus said with his final breaths before he died on the cross, “Father into your hands I commend my spirit.” The same phrase that we have heard in this Psalm: Into your hand I commit my spirit; you have redeemed me, O Lord, faithful God.” Because God has promised each of us new and eternal life. We need to live for God because one day we will die and go to God. God’s hands are already there – hands that are surrounded by the grace given through the death and resurrection of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ  – waiting for us to grab on, reaching out to us so they we may hold on

Katy was a daughter, a wife, and a mother. There is terrible grief in her loss. There is terrible pain and affliction. And now, more than ever, we need to hold on to something. We need to hold on to each other. We need to hold on the church. And above all else, we need to hold on to God. God’s loving hands are right there waiting for you to grab them. Hold on and hold on tight. “Be strong and let your heart take courage, all you who wait in the Lord.”

This Isn't Peace

Matthew 10:24-39

“A disciple is not above the teacher, nor a slave above the master; it is enough for the disciple to be like the teacher, and the slave like the master. If they have called the master of the house Beelzebul, how much more will they malign those of his household!

So have no fear of them; for nothing is covered up that will not be uncovered, and nothing secret that will not become known. What I say to you in the dark, tell in the light; and what you hear whispered, proclaim from the housetops. Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell. Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. And even the hairs of your head are all counted. So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows.

Everyone therefore who acknowledges me before others, I also will acknowledge before my Father in heaven; but whoever denies me before others, I also will deny before my Father in heaven.

Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.

     For I have come to set a man against his father,

     and a daughter against her mother,

     and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law;

     and one’s foes will be members of one’s own household.

Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it."

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I want everyone to close their eyes. (If you’re reading this, read these first few parts slowly. Really think about what I’m asking you.)  I want you to imagine a place that gives you peace. Go ahead, close your eyes, relax; find that peaceful bliss. Find that place where nothing can go wrong. You are away from your troubles. Your worries are gone; your fears no longer consume you. There’s no yelling, no arguing, and no fighting. You’re not in a hurry and you finally have time to catch your breath. This a place where you’re just away from it all. Isn’t this nice? Taking a moment of your day just to be at peace. Keep your eyes closed; remain in this peaceful place.

In your imagined place, who are you surrounded by? Where are you? What’s going on around you? And what are you doing? What did you sacrifice to get to this place of peace?

Where are your family and friends? Your spouse? Your parents or children? Your siblings? Or even your mother-in-law?  Are you at work? Or at home? Are you still even in this church? When you think of this imagined place, what’s missing? What have you given up to be here? What have you removed yourself from?

You can go ahead and open your eyes now.

Hopefully, these questions helped you realize that to achieve this sense of peace, we removed ourselves from the things that we love. We may have removed ourselves from our family. Our friends. Our job. Our house. We might have even removed ourselves from the very life each of us live. I see this as a fake sense of peace because we have removed ourselves from the things we love most in this world. Now, this place of peace is a nice place to occasionally go, but there’s a reason we don’t always live in this place. God never created this peaceful place as a place to stay. We live busy lives, and stress often overwhelms even the best of us. But that’s the life we were destined to live. And I if had to choose between a life of peace away from everything I love or a life filled troubles, worries, and fears caused by the things I love, I would hope I would choose the latter every time. Because that “peace” just isn’t worth it.

The problem in humankind is we lose ourselves when we become submissive to our worries, troubles, and fears and no longer remain submissive to God. We see this as a type of peace because it’s easier to let human problems control us. But this isn’t peace. It’s complacency. It’s the easy road.  There are times when we all no longer stand up for what we believe in and times we no longer remain true to ourselves or to our creator God. And that is exactly what this passage is telling us what NOT to do.

You see, in this passage, Jesus is telling his disciples to go out and spread the good news of Christ. But he is also giving them a warning. He tells the disciples they will face turmoil and they will have problems. He tells them life will be hard, especially when living a life of faith. But when they experience all of these hardships, Jesus also tells them throughout this passage to “Do not fear…” and “Do not be afraid…” because these disciples have great value in the eyes of God.

And then, Jesus says something weird, even for him. Now that saying something because let’s just be honest, Jesus said a lot of weird things in Scripture. But this one is weird because it seems to contradict almost everything he has taught up to this point. He says, “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.” Now let’s think about this… the prince of peace is, in fact, not bringing peace to our world? He’s bringing a sword? Really Jesus, really?! A sword?! But it isn’t a sword; this is Jesus’s way of giving his disciples an option. They can turn away from everything they love and know. They can escape from their problems and go back to their old peaceful, submissive lives. Or they can defend what they believe – what they serve and what they love – and they take up a sword. But Jesus doesn’t stop there. Jesus also tells his disciples to be worthy, they must also take up a cross.

But in our lives today, what does the sword represent? And what does the cross represent? They both represent strength given by God. In those moments when we feel weak or alone or afraid, when our troubles, worries, and fears control us. God will equip us with a mighty sword. A sword to give us strength to do what is needed. Strength to stand up for what is right. To defend what we love and serve. To show that human problems will not control us. But sometimes God will equip us with something different; God will tell us to take up a humbling cross. Here, God still gives us strength but a different kind of strength. Strength to have mercy. To carry not only our own burdens, but also the burdens of our neighbors. Strength to continue to move forward in life, even in our darkest days. By giving all that we are to the Lord, God’s will give us the strength to take up our cross.

The message here is God is telling humankind to lay out our lives for Christ. When we try to live true Christian lives, God will equip us with the strength we need. Do not be submissive to human problems; be submissive to our divine God. And then announce for all to hear. Announce it in the light and announce it in the dark; announce it silently and announce it loudly. One of my favorite contemporary Christian songs – “Rooftops” by Jesus Culture – has the lyrics, “I shout out your name. From the rooftops I proclaim. I am yours. And all that I am. I place into your loving hands. I am yours. I am yours.” Troubles will not control us. Worries will not control us. Fears will not control us. Human problems will not control us.

Rather, give your life to God. We will run into problems; we all have troubles, worries, and fears – this passage warns us of that. But don’t lose your life being controlled by them. Don’t try to live in peace ignoring them. Embrace them; take them in and then give them up to God, along with every part of you. Lose your life for Christ and be submissive to God. God will equip us with that mighty sword and that humbling cross. God will give us strength. Because God created each of us to live full lives; abundant lives. And to do this, we just need to give all that we are to Christ.

Let the Creator God love us; let the grace of Christ save us; and let the Holy Spirit move us.

Amen.

In Remembrance of Her

Mark 14:1-11

It was two days before the Passover and the festival of Unleavened Bread. The chief priests and the scribes were looking for a way to arrest Jesus by stealth and kill him; for they said, “Not during the festival, or there may be a riot among the people.”

While he was at Bethany in the house of Simon the leper, as he sat at the table, a woman came with an alabaster jar of very costly ointment of nard, and she broke open the jar and poured the ointment on his head. But some were there who said to one another in anger, “Why was the ointment wasted in this way? For this ointment could have been sold for more than three hundred denarii, and the money given to the poor.” And they scolded her. But Jesus said, “Let her alone; why do you trouble her? She has performed a good service for me. For you always have the poor with you, and you can show kindness to them whenever you wish; but you will not always have me. She has done what she could; she has anointed my body beforehand for its burial. Truly I tell you, wherever the good news is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in remembrance of her.”

Then Judas Iscariot, who was one of the twelve, went to the chief priests in order to betray him to them. When they heard it, they were greatly pleased, and promised to give him money. So he began to look for an opportunity to betray him.

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“For what she has done will be told in remembrance of her.”

In remembrance of her…

This passage is interesting. It is a few days before the Passover dinner. The passage opens with the dark plot to kill Jesus and it ends just as dim with Judas’ agreement to the betrayal. And because of this surrounding darkness, the tensions were high and their tempers were short. Jesus is in Bethany surrounded by his disciples and his other followers at a table, probably for conversation and a meal. But then, an unknown woman comes in carrying an expensive jar of oil. I’m sure the conversation subsided pretty quickly as the disciples stared at her waiting for her next move. When the woman breaks the jar and pours the oil onto Jesus’ head – oil that cost an entire year’s wages - the conversation quickly resumed as the people surrounding Jesus became angry. Like I said, the tensions were high and their tempers were short.  They argue that the oil could have been sold and that the profits could have been given to the poor. They scolded and rebuked the woman – thinking this act of hers was nothing but a waste. That this was no great act. This was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

But as always, Jesus takes this opportunity as one to teach his followers a new lesson – one on risk and compassion. He kindly but firmly tells his disciples to leave the woman alone. He explains, while yes, she could have given the money to the poor, she chose to anoint Jesus instead. She gave what little that she had – in this case, one expensive Jar of oil – to Jesus. She took a risk – a new approach – to glorify her Holy Teacher.

And so, because of this great act, whenever this story is read and “wherever the good news is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in remembrance of her.”

When I first read this passage, the line “in remembrance of her” stuck out to me. I instantly made the connection to the Lord’s Supper. When we eat the bread and drink the wine, Jesus told us to do so in remembrance of him. But here, Jesus takes the focus off himself – he doesn’t tell a parable or he doesn’t perform a miracle – instead, he lets a woman anoint him and then he says that act will be done in remembrance of her. Yes, even this unnamed woman has made a name for herself. And she did this by pouring a jar of oil – probably the most expensive item she owned; maybe even all she has ever owned – onto the head of Jesus.

Now I started thinking that if I were in this woman’s shoes, what could I give to Jesus that would best glorify God? Unfortunately I don’t think my $10 cologne would suffice.

So I thought harder – what is the most expensive thing I have in my life? And then it hit me and it’s one I’m sure we can all relate to – the cost of attending Princeton Theological Seminary. Our future Master of Divinity degree is our jar of oil.  It is what God has called us to give.

Here at seminary, we have all sorts of different gifts and talents. We have seminarians whose lives are rooted in scripture. We have those filled abundantly with kindness, compassion, and love.  We have the charismatic preachers and we have the theologically intelligent. We have it all here at Princeton Theological Seminary.

However, the problem, once we find our place – once we find our calling here at seminary – we stick to that and only that. And by doing so, it’s like we are only giving to the poor. Yes, it’s great and all, but it’s not always what God has called us to do. As we see in the passage, Jesus says we will always have the poor to give to – or in our case, we will always have our gifts to excel in. But if we don’t get out and explore what else God has given us, then we have doing nothing in the name of Jesus.

As Christians – as true followers of Christ – we need to give our time and our talents. And the nice thing is, God has gifted us each of us with both. God wants us to succeed – to push hard and to push forward. God wants us to take risks in the ways that serve. God has called us here to seminary – to this point in our lives – and God will continue to lead us where to do. So go out there; cradle and nurture your gifts and watch them flourish, but also, go out and take risks and explore your weaknesses; do all that you can to glorify God.

So what will you give up to God? 

What will be done in remembrance of you?

Amen.

Do You Understand?

Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52

He put before them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in his field; it is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the greatest of shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.”

He told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened.”

“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.

“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls; 46 on finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it.

“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea and caught fish of every kind; when it was full, they drew it ashore, sat down, and put the good into baskets but threw out the bad. So it will be at the end of the age. The angels will come out and separate the evil from the righteous and throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.

“Have you understood all this?” They answered, “Yes.” And he said to them, “Therefore every scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven is like the master of a household who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old.”

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            Do you understand?

It’s a question all of have been asked before… from our youngest of years when we’re being scolded for breaking the rules and all throughout school when we learn something new. It’s a question we are asked when we experiences terrible new or when something goes wrong. We have been asked this question before.

Do you understand?

It’s also a question many of us ask nearly on a daily basis. We ask it at home and we ask it at work. We ask it to our family and friends; our coworkers and our boss. We ask it out of sympathy and anger and sometimes we ask it out of joyous celebration.

Do you understand?

In our gospel reading today, Jesus is telling his disciples about the kingdom of heaven. To do this, he tells them five different parables where he compares the kingdom of heaven to a mustard seed, yeast mixed into flour, a treasure hidden in a field, a merchant in search of fine pearls, and a net thrown into the sea. Each of the parables are short and to-the-point. Jesus does not go into detail; he does not offer any further explanation. There is barely enough information provided to even make an accurate interpretation. Instead, Jesus asks his disciples “if they have understood all this” to which they reply “Yes.”

Now, this is what I can tell you about the kingdom of heaven based on the parables. It is both small and large; it is always at work as it grows and flourishes; it is very valuable but hidden, invisible to humankind; and it is welcoming to all who believe in God. But that is all I can tell you based on these parables. The kingdom of heaven is still a mystery, and I, in my humility, do not fully understand it.

But that also makes me questions if that was the lesson to be learned from Jesus here. Sure, Jesus is teaching about the kingdom of heaven, but we also know that Jesus always had more than one agenda when he told his parables. And that makes me question whether the disciples fully understood what the kingdom of heaven is actually like or if they responded with a “yes” for another reason? Maybe they did not fully understand the kingdom of heaven; maybe they said “yes” because they saw a different lesson to be learned from Jesus. We do not understand the kingdom of heaven – what this perfect place is actually like – but we can learn something else here. See, the disciples not only learned about the kingdom of heaven, but they also understood Jesus knew exactly what he was talking about and they placed their trust in him. They asked Jesus to grant them wisdom and that is exactly what Jesus did, even if they didn’t fully understand.

You see, wisdom is a miraculous gift given to humankind from God. It’s more than being smart; it is more than having knowledge. It is intelligence enhanced by power, judgment, rationality, and discernment. It is the ability to know what is true or what is right. And in this passage, Jesus knows what is true. And it takes great wisdom to place our own trust in Jesus; it takes great wisdom to understand that.

You see, we are following a faith where they will always be more questions than answers; where there are more mysteries than proofs.  But that doesn’t make it any less true. It’s a beautiful thing about Christianity. It’s a place where we can individually follow Christ and have a relationship with God.

We will not always understand scripture and how we can apply it in our lives. We will not always understand why terrible or difficult things happen to us or the people we love. We will not understand how we can celebrate one day but suffer the next. But we can pray. We can ask God for wisdom, we can ask to place our trust in Christ and embracing our humility that God alone is the only one to have full understanding. We need to listen and we need to obey. We need to understand that we will not always understand. We need to know we are dependent on God. That is the wisdom we need.

Do you understand? No, not yet, but this is only the beginning. Amen. 

The Least of These

Matthew 25:34-40

34 “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. 35 For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, 36 I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

37 Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? 38 When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? 39 When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

40 The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’"

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"First day here at Camp Metigoshe, and I don't know how I'm feeling; maybe ‘conflicted’ is the best way to describe this. I don’t know when I became so shy that I’m afraid to meet new people. It’s not that I fear any of them—they’re all actually really nice, funny, crazy, and accepting—I fear their inner thoughts. I fear what they might think of me; that it is more ‘natural’ for Christians to be cruel, bland, conformed, and judgmental because that has been my experience with many Christians from my past. I want to call them friends, but I’m too afraid to try. Wow, I’m starting to make it sound like I’m the weird, antisocial counselor in the corner. Forever alone. Trying to make myself laugh here. We held our first worship service tonight. It's called Vespers. Vespers is a quiet worship service that is held in the late evening - a time to reflect. The staff is sitting in a large circle, and in the middle of the room is a cross, made out of several logs, each with several holes that line across the middle of each log so that they each may hold several candles. As a staff, we went around our circle, singing slow, beautiful songs while each one of us took a turn lighting a candle. We then passed on the message of 'You are the light of the world' to the person next to us as it became their turn to light a candle. I may have lit a candle, but tonight no light came from me.

One song in particular stood out to me; it's called 'The Lord is my Light.' The lyrics go:

'The Lord is my light. And my salvation.

Whom shall I fear? Whom shall I fear?

The Lord is my strength. The strength of my life.

Of whom shall I be afraid.'

This song stood out to me because it asked, ‘Whom shall I fear?’ I do not fear God like maybe I should. Instead, I fear God’s people and how they may perceive others. I know I should not fear what people think, but I do. Here I am, at a camp where I am supposed to spread my love of the Lord with others, but right now, I’m just lost in the dark."

That was my first journal entry I made this summer while I was working at Camp Metigoshe right outside of Bottineau, ND. It's dated May 20, 2013. I look back at the journal entry, and I am actually shocked, appalled, and disappointed that I wrote that. Because now that the summer is over, I don't feel like that at all. I read it again and again, but it's like I'm reading it from a different perspective. I said I don't fear The Lord, but I did. I feared what others would think of me, and if I feared them, I also feared The Lord. Because if there's something I saw on a daily basis at Camp Metigoshe, it was The Lord through the works of others. It was a lesson on serving people known as the "Least of These." I read that first journal entry I made, and I realize, in that particular moment, I was the least of these. I wasn't actually hungry or thirsty. I wasn't exactly a stranger, and I definitely wasn't naked. I wasn't sick nor was I in prison. But that first night, I felt them all. But God provided me everything I needed. All summer long the staff of Camp Metigoshe served the Lord because it is the Lord who serves all of us.

I was hungry for the reassurance I was meant to be at Camp Metigoshe. But through staff members and campers, I felt like I belonged and that being there was my purpose.

I was thirsty for answers of questions that always made me unsure of myself. But through staff members and campers, I learned faith isn't about having answers; it's about having hope.

I was a stranger as I was different. But through staff members and campers, I was embraced and loved for the person I am. 

I was naked – uncomfortable and hidden. But through staff members and campers, I was clothed with compassion, comfort, and peace. 

I was sick with the feeling of failure. But through staff members and campers, I was told that I do have the calling to make a great pastor someday, and that I was already making a difference. 

And I was in a prison created by myself, to keep myself in and others out. But through staff members and campers, my walls were broken down. Camp Metigoshe is not and never will be a prison for those who come. It is a place to call home. It's a place where my faith grew and where I was surrounded by a family. 

The last week of camp, during our last Bible study for the counselors, we shared our highs and lows of the summer. My lows were forgotten, but for my highs, the list was endless. I thought of memories that were created each week – one group of Pioneers, one group of Discoverers, one group of Seek Week, two Day Camps, three groups of Voyageurs, and two weeks serving as either the Co-Cook or Waterfront Director for two different Trinity Weeks. But if I had to choose my ultimate high: it was the love, support, and acceptance I received every single day from the staff that surrounded me.

We have another song at Camp called "Gonna Dance!" It’s upbeat and fast and allows us to do crazy, fun things such as Dance, Laugh, Jump, Sing, Trout (yes, we trout - it's like a

"Splish-Splash” kind of thing), and Pray "before the Altar of The Lord." And then it goes "Won't be afraid of living anymore; won't be afraid like before!"

I fear The Lord but not in the way that I feared myself or the way I feared living. Instead, my fear is imagining my life without God’s everlasting love. The Lord our God is always there, and it is God who provides us with everything we need. If you ever feel you are the least of these—and trust me, everyone has experienced being the least of these—remember you are not alone. God will always love you; God will love you for exactly the person you were created to be.

I'm done being afraid of living, and instead, I'll be dancing and laughing and jumping and singing and trouting (yep, I'm gonna trout) and praying and whatever else He asks of me. I will serve the least of these and even the best of these because God serves all. And through God, no one will ever be abandoned when they feel like least of these. Regardless who the person is – love them and serve them and let them know they are not alone. The Lord is our light. Follow this light. Let the Lord’s light shine through you. Be the light of the world.

The Weeping Christian

I created this blog because since moving out to Princeton Theological Seminary, I have lost touch with the "Tay!" that is in the real Taylor Hall. I call it the "Tay!" because this is what my dad called me growing up and to this day, he still does (exclamation point and all). So when I lost touch with this, I lost the essence of the person I have grown to become. Think of what makes you, you. This includes everything you once were and everything you are today; this essence of yours that was built over years. Now rip it off like a band-aid. What do you have left? Well, I don’t know. Instead, it’s better to say what you don't have: you no longer have yourself. Going back to why I created this blog, I'm reconnecting with the "Tay!" that makes me - Taylor Hall - the real me.

If you tell a seminarian here to, "Describe Taylor Hall," I bet 90% of the people would reply by saying, "Who?" It's definitely not their fault; I am completely the one to blame. I’ve isolated myself from everyone because I'm still adjusting to being surrounded by Christians. Not just new people but a whole new type of people. Yes, I know that sounds extremely odd because I knew going into seminary I would be surrounded Christians. But I have this fear that they would look at me and say, "You are too secular to be a Christian." (I purposely use the word “secular” that will be explained another time.) I know this wouldn’t happen, but just in case, at the beginning of the year, I subconsciously created this two-step plan to prevent any of this from happening. First, I need to avoid them and second, I need to be more like them. Do you see where I'm going with this? Avoiding seminarians while trying to become more like them is an oxymoron. And trying to change myself just makes me a moron. This two-step plan was ridiculous, and this is where I lost the "Tay!"

My one experience being surrounded by Christians before this was this past summer when I worked at a Bible Camp. However, since I was around all of these other Christians 24/7 all summer long, this two-step plan never would have worked. I really got to know these people, and I’m so thankful that I did because they became my brothers from many other mothers and my sisters from many other misters.  So outside of seminary, using the same prompt above, "Describe Taylor Hall," you might actually get a description this time. I live life in one of two ways. The first, I see earth as this one big ball of euphoria. The second, I sulk around. Very different but that simple. Next, Humor and I met at a young age, we hit it off right from the start, and we've been soul mates ever since. To me, the best medicine really is laughter. Almost everything I say, I say to be funny and it’s usually accompanied by a hint of wit and sarcasm. The exception is when you need someone to talk to; then I’m a good listener and I would drop everything to be there for you. I would literally drop everything all over the place to make for a more dramatic exit just to be there for you. Which brings me to my last part, empathy is my greatest strength and my worst weakness. Whatever you’re feeling, I immediately start to feel the same way too. People say having emotions is a good thing or maybe they say it’s a bad thing; either way, I'm emotional x10 compared to the average human. This includes the entire spectrum of emotions. And that means, whether I'm happy or sad or anything in-between, I usually end up crying.

Crying = Weeping. This brings us to the title of my blog. I call it The Weeping Christian because I am inspired by Jeremiah in the Bible. Jeremiah, one of the four Major Prophets in the Old Testament, was dubbed by scholars as "The Weeping Prophet" because well, he cried out to The Lord a lot. He lamented. I won't write go into full detail about my thoughts on Jeremiah or his nickname or even why he inspires me in this post. Instead, I’ll just write a shortened list.

(1) He was a loner.

(2) He had a rough life.

(3) He got angry with the One who loves him most.

(4) He is considered to be quite blasphemous at times.

(5) He proved lamenting is a type of prayer.

(5) He weeps.

With that in mind, I’ll write about God, Jesus, The Holy Spirit, The Bible, Christianity, beliefs, faith, grace, love, who I really am, and whatever else comes to mind.

So read this for whatever reason you want. Read it because you yourself are a Christian or read it because you believe something entirely different. Read it to make yourself feel superior to me or read to become more humbled. Read it to completely disagree with everything I have to say or read it to see things from a different perspective. Read it as a joke to get a laugh or read it with the idea of hoping to learn. Read it because sometimes you secretly feel the same way I do or read it because you want to understand why I believe what I believe.

I’m writing to get the “Tay!” back, so maybe read this because you’re like me and somewhere along this journey, you started losing the very thing that makes you, you. These thoughts are already in my head; why not write them down? Jeremiah sure as hell didn’t keep them to himself. I can go around and try to become someone who God didn’t intend for me to become or I can be the person God created me to be – the real Taylor Hall. So here I am, openly admitting and even somewhat proudly, writing this blog as The Weeping Christian.