I Have a Brother

    

A couple of years ago at Mothers of Preschoolers (MOPS) in Bloomsburg, PA, where I was a mentor mom, we talked about awareness of and compassion for others. I offered to do a short devotion at the beginning of one of our monthly meetings where we were talking about the subject. After thinking and praying about it a lot, my devotion went something like this…

Compassion is one of those ideals that is easy to brush off. We think we know what compassion means. We think we know what it looks like. Maybe we do. Maybe we’ve been fortunate enough to experience it. 

I usually begin studying a concept by looking it up in the dictionary. So, I looked up “compassion.” The definition says compassion is “concern for the suffering and misfortune of others.” From that definition, I started thinking about Philippians 2:1-8. 

Philippians is a book of the Bible in the New Testament which was mostly written about the life of Jesus and about the church that Jesus started. Philippians was written by a man named Paul. Paul at one point had been not only anti-Christian, but he had been aggressively and violently anti-all-things-Jesus. 

Then, Jesus dramatically saved Paul from all that. Paul was never the same again. He even became a missionary where he traveled around to parts of Europe and Asia and started churches. On his second missionary journey he went to what is now Greece to a town called Philippi. He was warmly welcomed, and a church was started. Paul taught the Philippians everything he knew, fathering them in their new way of life. Things went smoothly for Paul, which wasn’t always the case. So, this church held a special place in his heart. 

Paul was probably in Rome when he wrote this letter to the Philippians, and he was probably in prison. When the church at Philippi heard about Paul’s predicament, they sent him a gift. Paul wrote a thank you note to the church in Philippi for that gift, cause his momma raised him right. The book of Philippians is Paul’s thank you note to the church in Philippi. He tells them how he’s doing and, like any good “dad,” he takes the opportunity to teach a little. 

In the second chapter of Philippians in verses 1 and 2 Paul says, 

“Is there any encouragement from belonging to Christ? Any comfort from his love? Any fellowship together in the Spirit? Are your hearts tender and compassionate?  Then make me truly happy by agreeing wholeheartedly with each other, loving one another, and working together with one mind and purpose.”

Here he basically says, “If our time together, if our relationship, means anything to you, then you need to act right. Y’all get along and work as a team. That’s what I taught you to do, and I hope that’s what you’re doing now.”  

Then, in verses 3 and 4 Paul says, 

“Don’t be selfish; don’t try to impress others. Be humble, thinking of others as better than yourselves. Don’t look out only for your own interests, but take an interest in others, too.”

Here Jesus says don’t look out for yourself alone, don’t act like you don’t see a friend or a stranger struggling. Take your eyes off yourself, look out there and think of them before you think of yourself.

    My husband, Bobby, and I often quoted verses 3 and 4 to our children. “Each of you should look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.” We just hoped the boys would love each other. We hoped and prayed they would get along and be good friends. I still hope and pray for that. But I want them to be so confident in their relationship with each other, so confident that God knows them and loves them completely, that they’re free and willing and eager to take care of other people.  

In verses 5-8 Paul says, 

“You must have the same attitude that Christ Jesus had. Though he was God, he did not think of equality with God as something to cling to. Instead, he gave up his divine privilege; he took the humble position of a slave and was born as a human being. When he appeared in human form, he humbled himself in obedience to God and died a criminal’s death on a cross.”

Paul gives us the example of Jesus. He says Jesus had more reason than anyone ever to say “no thank you” to being humble. He was GOD. But He didn’t grab that identity, He didn’t insist that everyone honor him and bow down. He humbled himself to being born as a human baby in a stable and He humbled himself to dying like a criminal.

Paul is basically saying, “If Jesus was able to look out for us first even as he died, then you should be able to tell a friend that she still has a curler in her hair. Or, if Jesus could come to this messed up world to save us, giving up Paradise for a time, then surely you can realize that the family down the street who just got a positive COVID test needs those pizzas in your freezer more than you do.” 

One day when my twin boys were about two or three, I had the rare opportunity to take just one of them to Costco. I put Allen in the buggy, and we cruised around the store, picking up the things we needed, and having fun together. When you have twins there’s not much one-on-one time. We paid for our things and headed to the exit. When we got close to the door one of the Costco workers who was checking receipts stopped us. He checked over our cart and then asked Allen if he wanted a sucker. Allen looked at me to make sure it was ok, and I said yes. Pleased with his sucker, Allen looked at me again and I gave him the standard mom reminder to be thankful, “Allen, what do you say?” Sweet, innocent Allen looked at the man who had given him the sucker, held out his hand and said, “I have a brother.”

I think that’s kind of how compassion is supposed to look. God doesn’t tell us in Philippians to look out ONLY for the interests of others. He says to look out ALSO for the interests of others. 

So, absolutely, say “thank you” for the gifts you’ve been given. But don’t be afraid to say to God or to the world, “You know what? I have a brother.” 

I love y’all. I want you to know you’re doing a great job. If you made it out of the house today and you and your children have some sort of clothing on and ate a little something for breakfast (whether it was fruit and yogurt or leftover pizza) you have already won. It is already a good day. If you don’t do anything else today but hug your children and tell them you love them and hug your husband and tell him you’re proud of him and you love him too, you have had a great day.

    Now, go love your brother.

 Commune with Us

When the pandemic began. I was one week into a brand new job, one of my sons was in Lanett with me after deciding to take a semester break from college, the other son was 30 minutes away working at a bank and living in Auburn, and Bobby was way up in Pennsylvania working on an oil and gas project. 

This was fairly normal for our family, but the lock down hit us just as hard as everyone else. We were new to Lanett, even though I grew up here. We had my mom and old friends, but we didn’t know many other people. 

In that year when everything stopped, on a dime, in a second, everything shifted. Everything changed. School looked remarkably like homeschooling for everyone. Work, even when you were working on a team, was done solo. And, church, well, church made me feel more remote than anything.

The shut down in Alabama started about a week before my husband and I were going to join a new church. I was looking forward to getting to know people. Having lunch with ladies I wanted to discuss missions and service opportunities with, having people over for meals that started out slightly awkward then ended in sighs and thankfulness over true connection. I was looking forward to beginnings.

But, we were all sent home to work alone, learn alone and even worship alone.

Bread and fish after an Easter Sunday service
standing by Niagra Falls

During the first Facebook service our church offered, my son, Allen, and I sang along to worship songs and read the scripture text for the morning. We listened to the sermon and bowed our heads in prayer. Molly, our dog, enjoyed the service with us, snuggled in Allen’s lap. Then, communion. 

The person leading the communion part of the service asked those at home to take a minute to “gather supplies.” Allen and I paused the video then scampered into the kitchen to lay our hands on the first things we could find. Anything that might work as a stand in for bread and wine, anything that might somehow help us turn our thoughts to the sacrifice of Christ.

I’ll admit this was kind of hard for me to begin with. I once had a friend describe communion at a camp her family attended. The children and adults at the camp shared in a communion meal of Coke and donuts. I kind of thought that was stretching the bounds of acceptable church behavior. Not sacrilegious, but getting there. 

So, it was with a bit of unease that I grabbed the first things my eyes landed on, leftover Domino’s garlic knots from dinner the night before and Milo’s sweet tea from the refrigerator. I cut two small pieces of buttery, parsley-flecked bread and put them on a small plate. I poured a couple of ounces of sweet tea into two, small, SEC Hall of Fame, plastic cups. I carried them to the family room and sat them on the trunk we use for a coffee table.

As the service continued, we were asked to share the elements with each other. 

“The body of Christ. 

Thanks be to God. 

The blood of Christ. 

Thanks be to God.” 

Allen and I took turns holding the plate, shyly and awkwardly saying the words. We each took our cup afterward and briefly held the tea aloft, almost toasting each other before taking a sip. 

Then, it was quiet. We listened to the music being played on Spring Road Christian Church’s Facebook page and settled back into our places on the couch. I closed my eyes thanking the Lord for all He has done, for all He continues to do for me - in me and around me. 

And, in that moment I felt peaceful, loved. Like God was present in the room, the smell of garlic hanging in the air like incense, the tumble of blankets on the couch needing to be folded. Like He didn’t care what we had eaten for communion, He just wanted to commune with us. To be invited, to be remembered. 

And, He was, even with such humble elements made holy by His very presence.

A gift of wine
brewed in a college fermenting class

Before the pandemic most of my experiences with communion were very reverent and saintly. Like the time I met a young woman who had briefly lived in the home of a pastor. She said every Saturday he ground wheat kernels by hand and baked bread loaves for communion at his church the next day. 

Or at my wedding where we had a freshly made, beautiful loaf of bread made by our pastor’s wife. We also had Sprite. Someone, me probably, had forgotten we needed grape juice for the communion part of our ceremony. I wondered why Brother Webb was looking at me so intently as I took the chalice. I didn’t stop to think about it in the moment, but I did briefly wonder why there were bubbles in the “juice.”

The lock down chipped away at some of my closely held ideals of what communion should look like. During the pandemic, in our communion celebrations, we shared cheese straws and water, pieces of sandwich bread and orange juice, crackers and Coke. It hasn’t been the same communion meal twice, but it was special and sweet and, dare I say it, holy, every time. 

Because the thing about communion isn’t what you’re eating, grape juice and hard, tiny wafers or wine and bread, or Coke and donuts, it’s what you’re remembering. It’s what you’re choosing to partake in. And, that’s the Body and Blood of Christ. 

Sitting in an easily accessible place on the shelf in my kitchen is a book called Bread and Wine. It’s a book with stories about food and meals and friends. It has the biscuit recipe I make many Sunday nights, a delicious vinaigrette salad dressing, and the decadent sounding Dark Chocolate Sea Salted Toffee. In this book, Shauna Niequist, the author, talks about how important bread and wine are not only as elements that fill our bodies, but as indelible marks on the life of a believer in Jesus. She says,

“Bread is bread, and wine is wine, but bread-and-wine is another thing entirely. 

The two together are the sacred and the material at once, 

the heaven and the earth, the divine and the daily.”

Shauna Niequist, Bread and Wine 

I’m so thankful the lock down is behind us, that we gather each Sunday, together, to worship and pray, to hug each other and shake hands, to hear the Word of God and take communion. Beautiful loaves of white bread, dipped in a bowl of scarlet juice. But, Allen would like everyone to know he’d appreciate more opportunities to have church with his dog.