This is Where We Start: When The World Is On Fire

 2025 has been a long year. 

It's not what you're thinking. Okay...it's not just what you're thinking. Or not exactly what you might be thinking.

First, there's been this attacking feeling of inadequacy. As a substitute teacher who can't remember how to solve for y using intersecting points on a graph. As a pastor whose people are all simultaneously going through it in really big ways that I can't fix for them. With questions I can't quite answer. As a mom who's having trouble not being a hot mess in the midst of my kids' crazy schedules. And who is super unhandy when it comes to building a set or sewing costumes for Aladin Jr. Where do all these other parents get all these skills?!

And then on January 20th our friends' 17-year-old daughter died. We met her a few days after she was born. We remember when she received a heart transplant almost 15 years ago. We were there when her mom's ashes were spread a few years later. The ache we feel for their family is real and the shock has made thinking difficult.

But then California's been on fire. And the whole country feels like it's on fire.  I've felt on edge, as I grip a bottle of tums, watch my news feed explode and try to grasp what's happening. I put steps in on the treadmill that keeps forcing me forward while still frozen in place, and I switch back and forth between "competing" news stations conveniently playing on screens right next to each other at my gym. And it's just all so heavy.

What's been bothering me goes deeper than specific politicians and policies. Not because they don't matter but they are ultimately temporary. And the world is going to world. Governments are going to government. But Christians need to Christian. 

So, what I am most worried about is the way a large sector of Christianity has been morphed into something I don't recognize. There are these ideas voiced by many respected leaders that I would never in a million years have imagined growing up as 90's youth group kid wearing a WWJD bracelet and listening to DC Talk and Switchfoot. 

1. Survival of the fittest. For as hard as we have pushed back on Darwinism for as long as I can remember, these past few years we've been quick to spiritualize that key idea of survival of the fittest by labeling it God's "sovereign plan." It's more comfortable to believe some people were just meant to be sicker or poorer, or more persecuted than others, and we shouldn't try to fix it. This is not a Christian idea or what God's plan really is for us. Throughout church history Christians have been opening hospitals, building orphanages, running homeless shelters and leading relief efforts for victims of natural disasters, war and persecution all over the world because we DON'T believe in survival of the fittest. 

2. I have heard multiple times recently that "empathy is a sin." I'm not even saying it's been implied or just a reminder to act justly. No, literally it's been called a sin, especially one that "weak women" are more likely to commit. Yes, someone said that to me. I can say with absolutely certainty that this is a false statement that is no where in scripture. Kindness, understanding, and compassion, on the other hand, appear everywhere. The entire story of the gospel is a God who came near and empathized with us in every way possible, showed us mercy and then said, "Go and do likewise."

3. There's this idea that "moderates" are the biggest problem. The bridge builders. The peacemakers. Not blessed. The problem. I believe this idea comes from a misunderstanding of the reference to the lukewarm church in Revelation. And that's a discussion for another day.  But when I (a self-proclaimed moderate) was told this recently, it felt like a rip tide attempting to sweep me off my feet and prevent me from standing on any hope of finding common ground and reasonable solutions.

4. Dehumanizing immigrants. In Christianity we believe every human was made in the image of God. We believe that "there is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female." Our scripture is loaded with refugee and asylum seeker stories. Try to count them.

We can talk about my personal views on immigration policy sometime in person over coffee with the nuance of personal interaction, tone and body language. Just know that it's been shaped slowly over the past twenty years, hundreds of hours of reading, soul searching, and my personal experiences as a pastor, substitute teacher, and friend. I don't expect one blog post to bring you through that process in 15 minutes or less. 

But I will say that NO ONE who calls themselves a Christian gets a pass on calling ANYONE "trash." Regardless of what your political views on border policy are.

I suppose none of these things are brand new, but they've gotten really loud, and bold and it feels like they've gained critical mass.

I know...this is all kind of grim. How do we resist the hijacking of faith and the heavy anvil trying to sink us? I wish I had a quick and easy answer. Like I said, I'm still trying to figure out how to solve for y using intersecting points on a graph. I don't have the solution for this one yet.

But I do know that it helps when I see Christians Christianing. And I have seen it. And so many other beautiful moments over the past week. The cracks where the light gets through.

On January 21st we gathered for something like a vigil for our friends' young daughter who died. In this room of people with different ideas about politics and maybe even theology at times, we held each other, we cried together, and we lifted our voices in praise to God for his goodness. Our friend shared the beautiful stories of God's gifts in his last days with his daughter, even as sobs occasionally took over. It was grief, it was lament, and it was thanksgiving all at the same time.

That weekend Dan and I went to pastors and spouses retreat where we shared the joys and pain of loving the people God gave us. We were reminded of the holy calling to spread the good news and guide disciples of Jesus and that no one ever said it was easy. We were able to see with our own eyes the miracle our congregation had been praying for. A co-pastor couple on our district has six-year-old twins with down syndrome and one of them went septic following a minor medical procedure several months ago. Everyone thought she was dying. She was revived multiple times and spent 60 days in the hospital. And there she was with her sisters, still needing extra care but happy and loving life with her family. God is good and he gives strength to the weak. My faith was feeling weak. And that weekend was a source of strength.

Moses has been thriving in another year of choir, musical theater, and acting in the school musical. When he and his junior high friends found out that extreme budget cuts in his school district would eliminate general music for elementary school students, they showed up in mass to the Mesa Public Schools board meeting and took turns with a list of 80 people to speak to why this was not in the community's best interest. In the end, they got the board to pause the plan for a year while they came up with a much more satisfactory one. In our family it's known as the day Moses helped save music. It was such a source of hope. We do matter, and music and joy, and the things that bring us together. matter.

Finally, tonight, I gathered with our little congregation in Pastor Trevor and Rachelle's living room. We spoke words of love and encouragement to each other. We found ways to include and accommodate for each other out of kindness and empathy. We prayed for the things that I wish I could fix but can't. The Word was read, our hearts were shared. And then we gathered around the plate that says "Peace be With You" that held the body of Christ, and the cup of Nazarene juice that we remember the blood of our savior with. And we took part in the 2,000-year-old practice of the Eucharist that weaves us together with followers of the Way of Jesus all over the world and throughout time. And I still was not sure how to push back against these clouded messages that aren't of Christ. But I knew this was where we start. Because Christians got to Christian. And so we did.