Reflection Guide: Romans 6 and the Pattern of Dying to Self

Scripture: Romans 6:1-11, Sermon by Rev. Sterling W. Severns





Romans 6:1-11, Special Music, and Sermon

Reflection Questions

1. The Continuous Nature of Spiritual Growth

The sermon emphasized that spiritual growth is not a one-time event but a continuous journey. Baptism represents the ongoing pattern of dying to our false selves and rising with Christ, over and over. Paul calls us into a lifelong relationship with God that demands daily surrender to grace.

Quotes:

  • “Grace isn’t just for our past sins, but for the ongoing process of transformation in our lives.” — From the sermon
  • “Spiritual growth is a journey, not a moment. It’s an ongoing invitation to trust in grace.” — From the sermon

Reflection Questions:

  • Where in your life do you feel called to surrender more fully to ongoing spiritual growth?
  • How might viewing your faith as a continuous journey change the way you approach daily challenges?

2. Baptism: A Continuous Journey, Not a One-Time Event

Baptism symbolizes more than a one-time moment of salvation. It’s an invitation to participate repeatedly in the death and resurrection of Christ. Paul teaches that we don’t leave behind sin in a single act, but we live in a daily pattern of surrender and renewal.

Quotes:

  • “Baptism isn’t a ritual of finality. It’s the starting point of an ongoing journey with God’s grace.” — From the sermon

Reflection Questions:

  • How does your baptism (or your understanding of baptism) inform your current spiritual practices?
  • In what ways can you more intentionally participate in the “death and resurrection” pattern of spiritual growth in your everyday life?

3. Sin as Disconnection from God

Sin is not just a list of wrong behaviors, but an expression of our disconnection from God. It’s a failure to trust in God’s love and provision. Paul invites us to go deeper than surface-level morality and look at the spiritual root of sin—our distance from God.

Quotes:

  • “Sin is not about being bad; it is about being disconnected from God, and grace is the connection that heals and restores us.” — Greg Boyle

Reflection Questions:

  • How do you typically understand sin in your own life? Do you tend to focus more on behaviors or the deeper issues of trust and disconnection from God?
  • What steps can you take to reconnect with God in areas where you feel distant or mistrustful?

4. Idolatry and Fear-Based Living

The root of sin is a failure to trust in God’s sufficiency, leading us to live out of fear. We create idols—control, success, or security—when we feel uncertain. Living in fear keeps us from relying on God’s provision and invites us to hold onto false securities.

Quotes:

  • “The root of sin is our failure to trust in God’s sufficiency. Instead of trusting God’s provision, we rely ultimately on ourselves.” — Mark Biddle, Missing the Mark

Reflection Questions:

  • What idols (e.g., control, success, security) do you find yourself clinging to in times of uncertainty?
  • How can you shift from a fear-based way of living to a life more rooted in trust and surrender to God’s provision?

5. The Tug of Grace: A Moment-to-Moment Decision

We are continually pulled by fear, the root of all sin. The tug of grace is what gets our attention, but it’s not enough to keep us from being pulled under. It’s the invitation to decide: will we allow fear to drown our true selves, or will we let go of the rope, die to self, and let God’s grace drown our false selves?

Quotes:

  • “The tug of grace is God’s invitation. It’s not about resisting fear through our strength but about letting go and trusting in grace.” — From the sermon

Reflection Questions:

  • Can you identify moments in your life where fear has pulled you away from trust in God? How did the tug of grace invite you to respond?
  • What would it look like to let go of the rope and fully surrender to grace in a specific area of your life?

6. Dying to Self and Living in Christ

Paul teaches that true spiritual life comes through repeated death to self. We are called to continually surrender our false selves—our fears, pride, and need for control—and trust in God’s resurrection power. This ongoing death and resurrection is what allows us to live fully in Christ.

Quotes:

  • “We are called to ‘just keep drowning.’ It is in dying to our false selves that we can truly live.” — From the sermon

Reflection Questions:

  • What aspects of your false self (e.g., pride, control, fear) are you being called to surrender in this season of life?
  • How have you experienced spiritual resurrection after moments of dying to self? What new life emerged from those experiences?

Quotes for Further Reflection

  1. “Grace isn’t just for our past sins, but for the ongoing process of transformation in our lives.” — From the sermon
  2. “Sin is not about being bad; it is about being disconnected from God, and grace is the connection that heals and restores us.” — Greg Boyle
  3. “We are called to ‘just keep drowning.’ It is in dying to our false selves that we can truly live.” — From the sermon
  4. “The root of sin is our failure to trust in God’s sufficiency. Instead of trusting God’s provision, we rely ultimately on ourselves.” — Mark Biddle, Missing the Mark
  5. “When we live out of fear, we are essentially choosing self-reliance over grace, and in the end, that will always pull us under.” — From the sermon
TBC Richmond
TBC Richmond
Reflection Guide: Romans 6 and the Pattern of Dying to Self
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Through Many Dangers, Toils, and Snares

We were the only two in line, strangers waiting for the pharmacy to reopen. It took her little or no time to begin to openly share her story with me. As she spoke about her journey through illness and healing, her hands told the story as much as her words.

She gently touched her head, right where the tumor had been, explaining how peace first entered her life—something she grasped intellectually after the surgery, as she processed what she had been through. 

Then, she placed her hand over her heart, describing how that peace deepened, becoming something she could feel more fully. 

But it was when she placed both hands on her stomach that her voice softened, and she said, “But now, I know it here.” This was peace she carried in her gut, a knowing that had grown through suffering, endurance, and the long journey now behind her. And she couldn’t keep it to herself—the peace had become too real, too profound, not to share.

Her testimony brought to life the very words of Paul in Romans 5. He speaks of suffering producing endurance, endurance shaping character, and character leading to a hope that does not disappoint. There are no platitudes here—no quick fix for pain. Paul is sharing the journey that he, and so many others, have walked: through suffering, into endurance, and into a hope that transforms us from the inside out. This is not about earning anything—it’s about receiving the grace of God, who walks with us and delivers us through every trial. God is with us every step of the way.

As we sang together at the end of last Sunday’s sermon,

“Through many dangers, toils and snares,
I have already come;
’Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,
And grace will lead me home.”

The suffering we endure becomes the very path through which God leads us into hope. This journey isn’t about mere survival—it’s about discovering a peace so deep, a hope so life-altering, that we are never the same.

I invite you to take some time this week to reflect on these powerful truths. If you feel called to explore further, our reflection guide is available on the website as a helpful tool to guide your prayers and thoughts. It offers an opportunity to dive deeper into how God may be transforming your experiences of suffering into endurance and hope. 

Thanks be to God for the gift of grace……leading us home.

Yours in Christ, 

Rev. Sterling W. Severns

Seeing.

It was a practical choice—a hamper— Elena had chosen it from the assortment of freebies offered on Saturday. As cars were being loaded, Carmen, another neighbor, walked up, her eyes lit up when she noticed the hamper. “Where did you find that?” Carmen asked. “I’ve been looking for something just like that for my house.”

Without a second thought, Elena smiled and handed the hamper to Carmen. “Then it’s yours. You’re my friend, and you need it,” she said, as though giving away something she had wanted for herself was the most natural thing in the world. There was no hesitation. In that moment, her focus wasn’t on her own needs but on her friend—someone deserving of love, care, and generosity.

The beauty of this moment stood in sharp contrast to how things had been months ago. Elena had been visibly frustrated, feeling it was unfair that others not present would be served before her. In that moment she felt a need for control, a need to ensure there would be enough to meet her own needs. She was carrying a heavy weight, reacting from a place of scarcity and self-preservation.

Somewhere along the way, Elena’s heart softened. She discovered that there was abundance—abundance in God’s provision and in the relationships she was building in the community. Through this change, she became a vessel of grace, letting go of her need to grasp and instead embracing the love that flowed between her and Carmen, a friend she had made while waiting around the table.

Each of us has, at one time or another, been that person struggling for control, feeling the need to protect what we think we deserve. We’ve all experienced that moment when we’re afraid there won’t be enough or when someone else’s gain feels like our loss. That desire to be first, to secure something before someone else takes it, is a familiar reaction born out of our own insecurities and fears. But oh how beautiful, when we begin to see those around us not as competitors, but as friends. Instead of viewing someone as taking what belongs to us, we recognize their needs and their humanity. We see Christ in them. And in that recognition, the act of giving and sharing becomes a reflection of God’s love—abundant, overflowing, and full of grace.

What a gift to SEE the transformation from Christ’s love, to recognize it when it happens around us and in us. May we continue to practice seeing— To Pay Attention, Be Amazed and Tell About It. 

– April Kennedy, Minister of Abundant Community

Sacred Pause & the Path to Freedom

The past few days have felt heavy. Between the news cycle and the looming presidential debate, it’s hard to ignore the way tension creeps into our hearts. There’s a pressure that builds, a simmering frustration, and it doesn’t take much—a comment from a family member, a dismissive remark in a conversation—for that tension to spill over. I’ve felt it myself. It’s easy to snap back, shut down, or get defensive. These knee-jerk reactions often define us in ways we don’t intend—people may no longer see us as someone willing to listen or seek understanding. When our righteous anger shifts into self-righteousness, we can lose sight of the healing God is calling us to offer the world. But that doesn’t mean we’ve missed our chance. God’s grace meets us, not in perfection but in our efforts to return, pause, and try again. Each pause, no matter how difficult, is an invitation to step back into the work of healing—work we’re never disqualified from, no matter how many times we need to begin again.

This past Sunday, just before the benediction, I encouraged you to join me in practicing the Sacred Pause. It’s the space between what happens to us and how we respond. Lately, I find myself leaning into that space and discovering surprising freedom. When life throws us off balance, the Sacred Pause helps us stop reacting and start responding. As I mentioned, “Sometimes, after the pause, the response might be exactly what you originally wanted to say or do. The difference is that now your response comes from a place of peace and thoughtfulness, not frustration.” In that brief pause, we rediscover the freedom Christ offers us—not just from unhealthy reactions, but from the need to respond impulsively to every situation with anger or fear. Click here to learn how to practice the Sacred Pause.


Many great religious traditions embrace the importance of creating space between action and reaction. In moments when we feel overwhelmed by emotions, finding that space is critical to breaking the cycle of impulsive reactions. This pause allows us to reconnect with God and listen for the guidance of the Holy Spirit. I’ve been inspired by the broader wisdom found in the work of Viktor Frankl, a psychiatrist and Holocaust survivor, whose profound reflections on human resilience and choice offer insight for anyone navigating difficult emotional experiences. Frankl wrote:

“Between stimulus and response, there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.”

Viktor Frankl

Frankl’s words resonate deeply with the Christian practice of the Sacred Pause. It’s in that pause that we make room for the Holy Spirit to guide us, allowing God’s voice to rise above the noise of our emotions. When we slow down and invite God into that space, we can respond not from fear or anger, but from a place centered in love, grace, and wisdom.

This practice reflects the liberation Paul speaks of in his letter to the Romans, where he encourages the early church to live in the freedom of Christ’s love rather than remain bound by division and conflict. And, in those moments where we struggle or fall short, we remember that God’s grace is always present, drawing us back into that space of transformation. Explore how you can incorporate the Sacred Pause into your daily life.


Returning to the World’s Tension

We live in a world brimming with tension, frustration, and conflict. In our own church life, we’ve felt it too—whether it’s during a difficult conversation in a business meeting or while serving in Community Ministry when impatience gets the better of someone. Perhaps you’ve encountered it on the road, stuck behind the guy with the offensive bumper sticker, or while watching a political talk show where contempt seems to be the driving force. These moments test our capacity to live out the love and grace we’re called to embody.

But here’s the good news: we’re growing together. Every time we lean into the Sacred Pause, we take one step closer to healing ourselves and the world around us. The Sacred Pause begins with us—giving God the space to transform our hearts. In that pause, we not only stop our own unhealthy reactions but also make room for others to be seen, heard, and transformed. When people feel understood, they too are invited into their own pause, to reconsider, and begin again. We may not always get it right the first time or even the second, but the love of God, always present and always at work, gives us the space to try again. And as we grow together in our faith, we get to participate in God’s healing project—a project that is grounded in love, grace, and reconciliation.

Together, as a church community, we have the privilege of being instruments of healing in a world that so desperately needs it. Let’s keep growing, keep pausing, and keep discovering the ways God is leading us to love more deeply, to listen more closely, and to heal more faithfully.


Yours in Christ,
Rev. Sterling W. Severns, Pastor


Going Deeper:

God has used many voices to help me grow in my faith, and Arthur Brooks has been one of them. If you’re interested in exploring more about the power of the pause, I encourage you to watch or listen to the conversation between Simon Sinek and Arthur Brooks at the 92nd Street Y, where they discuss the importance of pausing before reacting. You can find the interview here or listen to the podcast here.


John Gottman’s Four Horsemen—criticism, defensiveness, contempt, and stonewalling—are harmful patterns that damage relationships, often arising when we react out of intense emotions. You can learn more about these patterns here.

Anxiety: A Lenten Reflection by Frederick Buechner

Written by Frederick Buechner, Whistling in the Dark

“Have no anxiety about anything,” Paul writes to the Philippians. In one sense it is like telling a woman with a bad head cold not to sniffle and sneeze so much or a lame man to stop dragging his feet. Or maybe it is more like telling a wino to lay off the booze or a compulsive gambler to stay away from the track.

Is anxiety a disease or an addiction? Perhaps it is something of both. Partly, perhaps, because you can’t help it, and partly because for some dark reason you choose not to help it, you torment yourself with detailed visions of the worst that can possibly happen. The nagging headache turns out to be a malignant brain tumor. When your teenage son fails to get off the plane you’ve gone to meet, you see his picture being tacked up in the post office among the missing and his disappearance never accounted for. As the latest mid-East crisis boils, you wait for the TV game show to be interrupted by a special bulletin to the effect that major cities all over the country are being evacuated in anticipation of nuclear attack. If Woody Allen were to play your part on the screen, you would roll in the aisles with the rest of them, but you’re not so much as cracking a smile at the screen inside your own head.

Does the terrible fear of disaster conceal an even more terrible hankering for it? Do the accelerated pulse and the knot in the stomach mean that, beneath whatever their immediate cause, you are acting out some ancient and unresolved drama of childhood? Since the worst things that happen are apt to be the things you don’t see coming, do you think there is a kind of magic whereby, if you only can see them coming, you will be able somehow to prevent them from happening? Who knows the answer? In addition to Novocain and indoor plumbing, one of the few advantages of living in the twentieth century is the existence of psychotherapists, and if you can locate a good one, maybe one day you will manage to dig up an answer that helps.

But answer or no answer, the worst things will happen at last even so. “All life is suffering” says the first and truest of the Buddha’s Four Noble Truths, by which he means that sorrow, loss, death await us all and everybody we love. Yet “the Lord is at hand. Have no anxiety about anything,” Paul writes, who was evidently in prison at the time and with good reason to be anxious about everything, “but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.”

He does not deny that the worst things will happen finally to all of us, as indeed he must have had a strong suspicion they were soon to happen to him. He does not try to minimize them. He does not try to explain them away as God’s will or God’s judgment or God’s method of testing our spiritual fiber. He simply tells the Philippians that in spite of them even in the thick of them they are to keep in constant touch with the One who unimaginably transcends the worst things as he also unimaginably transcends the best.  

“In everything,” Paul says, they are to keep on praying. Come Hell or high water, they are to keep on asking, keep on thanking, above all keep on making themselves known. He does not promise them that as a result they will be delivered from the worst things any more than Jesus himself was delivered from them. What he promises them instead is that “the peace of God, which passes all understanding, will keep your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

The worst things will surely happen no matter what that is to be understood but beyond all our power to understand, he writes, we will have peace both in heart and in mind. We are as sure to be in trouble as the sparks fly upward, but we will also be “in Christ,” as he puts it. Ultimately not even sorrow, loss, death can get at us there.

That is the sense in which he dares say without risk of occasioning ironic laughter, “Have no anxiety about anything.” Or, as he puts it a few lines earlier, “Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I will say, Rejoice!”

Philippians 4:4-7

Advent Devotional: God is With Us

written by Ginny & Fred Karnas narrated by Anita McCarty

Scripture: “A virgin will become pregnant and have a Son, and He will be called Immanuel” (which means, “God is with us”).  (Matthew 1:23).                

For God has said, “I will never leave you; I will never abandon you.”  (Hebrews 13: 5b)

MeditationA pilot friend of mine told me a story of how he was flying in a storm somewhere over Florida.  The storm had gotten so bad that he had lost his bearings—he didn’t even know where he was.  But his radio contact with the tower stayed strong, and his air traffic controller did know where he was and was able to guide him safely to an airport.

Today the storms of this world threaten to destroy our inner peace and undo us.  The anxiety index has been off the chart with daily political upheaval, the existential threat of climate change, a deadly opioid epidemic, and endless war after endless war.  So how can we experience inner peace in the midst of all of this, even as Christians?  We must focus on the fact that, even when we are lost in the storms of life, God’s radar is still working. God knows where we are at all times and in every situation. God knows how His plans for us will be implemented.  Immanuel has come. God is with us and will never abandon us.  

When I wrote this devotion in 2002, Fredericksburg and northern Virginia were consumed by the terror of sniper indiscriminately shooting unsuspecting and innocent people.  I believe that part of God’s plan during the sniper crisis was that of calling millions of people, many who habitually pray and many who seldom or never do, to pray for the families of the victims, for those who were wounded and needed healing, and for the apprehension of the killers.  I believe God used the power of that prayer to put it into the mind of the witness or witnesses in Washington state to make the unlikely connection of a possible link to the shootings.  I believe that prayer power aided the truck driver at a Maryland rest stop to spot the snipers’ vehicle and call it in.  In fact, a small article in The Arizona Republic reported that the same truck driver had met just a week earlier with 50 of his fellow truck drivers to pray that the snipers would be caught.

The day after September 11th I sat gazing out the window of our Arlington, Virginia apartment which overlooked the Pentagon from which smoke continued to float into the air.  As I prayed, “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done,” I wept to think how far it seemed our world was from God’s kingdom coming or God’s will being done.  Then I remembered the words to the familiar hymn by Martin Luther which many thousands of people were probably pondering for comfort:

A mighty fortress is our God, a bulwark never failing;

Our helper He, amid the flood of mortal ills prevailing:

For still our ancient foe doth seek to work us woe;

His craft and power are great,

And, armed with cruel hate, on earth is not his equal.     (verse 1)

And tho’ this world, with devils filled, should threaten to undo us,

We will not fear, for God hath willed His truth to triumph through us:

The Prince of Darkness grim—we tremble not for him; his rage we can endure,

For lo, his doom is sure; one little word shall fell him (verse 3)

Prayer:  God of all goodness and all might, grant us peace in the knowledge that You are in control, even when much of life seems to be in chaos.  Amen.  

Advent Devotion: The Journey to Wholeness

written by Ginny & Fred Karnas narrated by Fred Karnas

Scripture:  He helps us in all our troubles, so that we are able to help others who have all kinds of troubles, using the same help that we ourselves have received from God.  Just as we have shared in Christ’s many sufferings, so also through Christ we share in God’s great help. (2 Corinthians: 4-5)

MeditationMy father was an alcoholic. I have never written those words before.   It has taken me over 50 years to be able to acknowledge that hurt and shame in my life.  My father was a caring man with one of the best senses of humor on the earth, but he wrestled with demons for nearly all his 84 years.  To see him at work as a middle-class government bureaucrat one would not have sensed the brokenness in his life, or for that matter the brokenness his drinking brought to his family.  Brokenness is not often used to describe those of us in the middle class.  No, we reserve it for the poor, the sick, and the homeless.  But the journey to Christmas is about God’s reaching out to heal our brokenness.  The gift of Christmas is Jesus’ promise of healing, peace, and hope for all his children, no matter their status in life. 

Christ House is a medical recovery facility for homeless men and women in inner-city Washington, DC.  On the first floor of the facility is an all-purpose room used for meetings, dining, and worship.  On this day, the Easter Sunday worship was just beginning.  Crowded into the room was an array of God’s children…rich suburbanites and poor inner-city residents, old black patients and young white volunteers, healthy neighbors and sick guests.

As the service began, Pastor Allen Goetcheus asked the community’s spiritual counselor, Sr. Marcella to say a few words.  Her words were simple but direct, and there wasn’t a soul in the room who did not instantly understand how profound they were.  Looking out on the congregation of men and women battered but unbeaten by life, she smiled and said. “If you don’t believe in resurrection you haven’t spent any time at Christ House.”

The gift of Christ House is that resurrections, big and small, are a daily occurrence.  For some it is one day of sobriety after decades of alcohol use. For another it is the report that the HIV once consuming his body has been slowed to a stop, and for others it is the once unimaginable news that he is well and there is a home to move into.  

Through the brokenness of those with whom we worshipped at Christ House, those of us whose lives had our own trials and tribulations were allowed to confront the dark and hurting places in our own lives and to share resurrections with people who, on the surface at least, were very different from us.  It is impossible to worship with the poor and sick at Christ House and say you cannot deal with your struggles.

The journey to Christmas is the journey to hope and wholeness and, ultimately, peace.  

“This is the blood of Jesus,” Leland whispers to me as he hands me the communion cup.  In that moment the gift of Christmas is mine, for no distance separates the middle-aged, middle-class white man from a tiny Canadian border town and the formerly homeless black man with AIDS.  We have each seen our brokenness, and through the gift of Christmas Leland and I share God’s love and healing. 

PrayerLord, help us to reach out to those whose trials and victories teach us about the healing gift of Your love.  Amen.

Advent Devotion: Making Room in the Inn

written by Ginny & Fred Karnas narrated by Kaeo Burgess

ScriptureAnd Jesus concluded, “In your opinion, which one of these three acted like a neighbor toward the man attacked by the robbers?”    The teacher of the law answered, “The one who was kind to him.”  Jesus replied.  “You go then, and do the same.” (Luke 10:36-37)

MeditationA few years ago, I attended a meeting in Cincinnati and decided to spend the night sleeping in a shelter run by a close friend of mine.  For nearly two decades, my friend Buddy had reached out to the homeless men and women in that city.   Buddy was one of the most gentle and caring people I have ever known, unless you were a city official bent on redeveloping his beloved Over-the-Rhine neighborhood and displacing the poor and struggling families living there.

No matter who came to his door, no matter how dirty or confused or inebriated, Buddy put his arm around him and welcomed him into his shelter.  

Tom was one of those men who somehow found their way to Buddy’s doorstep.  The night I stayed at the shelter, Buddy asked Tom to give me a tour.  Tom spent a little time showing me the various programs and residential portions of the building, but mostly Tom took me on a tour of his life.  

He told me how he was abused as a child, how he quit school and got into trouble, how his marriage fell apart and he lost his family, and how drugs and alcohol consumed him for years.  He said, “I have a Master’s in drugs, and a Ph.D. in trouble!”

“But,” he proudly continued, “because of this place and the people who cared about me, I found hope and the strength to change my life.  I have been sober for 10 years.  I have my children back in my life.  I have a job I love, working with others who are struggling with addictions.  And most of all, I know who I am.”

It is clear that Tom’s life was changed by the programs which helped him deal with some very difficult personal issues and by his own willingness to choose hope over hopelessness.  But what really saved Tom’s life was the gift of hospitality — an unconditional acceptance of the stranger in our midst — provided by Buddy and his staff.

Henry Nouwen describes hospitality this way:

Hospitality is not to change people, but to offer them space where change can take place…It is not a method of making our God and our way into the criteria for happiness but the opening of an opportunity to others to find their God and their way… hospitality is… a friendly emptiness where strangers can enter and discover themselves as created free; free to sing their own songs, speak their own languages, dance their own dances.. Hospitality is not a subtle invitation to adopt the lifestyle of the host, but the gift of a chance for the guest to find his own.

Prayer:    Lord, help us to reach out to the strangers in our midst, to offer love, hope, comfort, support, and a safe place to find their own way.  Amen.

Advent Devotion: Sticky Kisses

written by Fred and Ginny Karnas narrated by Judy Fiske

Scripture:   Jesus said, “Let the children come to me and do not stop them, because the Kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.  (Matthew 19:13-14)

MeditationAs I pulled my car into the parking lot at the shelter, I saw another car follow me into the small lot.  The car was crowded with children and belongings.  It looked like the family had endeavored to strap every last possession on the car’s roof, and the trunk strained with the remaining items.  As I sat and watched, three children climbed quietly out of the car, but it was clear that another child remained inside the car.  He was engaged in an animated conversation with his parents.  All of a sudden the car door swung open and the young boy burst out, tears streaming down his face. He was barely 12 or 13 years old. He began to walk briskly down the sidewalk, screaming and crying that he did not want to stay at a shelter, asking his parents, “How could you do this to me?”  As he walked away his shattered and defeated parents stood with their heads bowed, holding back their own tears.

Parents know how tough the years of a middle-schooler can be as they seek to venture out on their own and gain the acceptance of their peers. Can you imagine being a young boy living in a shelter? How do you invite your friends over after school?  How do you even tell your friends where you live?

Homelessness is hell for children, and it shapes their lives for years, if not for a lifetime.  A study by the Interagency Council on the Homeless (now the U.S. Interagency on Homelessness) revealed the sobering statistic that more than a quarter of all homeless adults had been homeless as children, and many others had experienced similar childhood traumas of abuse, foster care, or institutionalization.  Every day that we allow children to be homeless on our city streets increases the likelihood that they and their children will find themselves on those same streets years from now.  We must find a way to imbue this generation of children with hope for a future, or their hopelessness will consume them and diminish us.

Prayer:

We pray for children 

who bring us sticky kisses and fistfuls of dandelions,

who sleep with the dog and bury goldfish,

who hug us in a hurry and forget their lunch money,

who cover themselves with Band-aids and sing off key,

who squeeze toothpaste all over the sink,

who slurp their soup.

And we pray for those

who never get dessert,

who have no safe blanket to drag behind them,

who watch their parents watch them die,

who can’t find any bread to steal,

who don’t have any rooms to clean up,

whose pictures aren’t on anybody’s dresser, 

whose monsters are real.

By Ina J. Hughs

Advent Devotion: Wisdom Through the Eyes of a Child

Written by Ginny & Fred Karnas Narrated by Martin Tiller

Scripture:  Remember this!  Whoever does not receive the Kingdom of God like a child will never enter it.  (Luke 18:17)

MeditationChildren are an important part of our journey to Christmas.  The excitement of little ones as they restlessly prepare for bed on Christmas Eve and their sparkling eyes and shrieks of joy as they crawl under the Christmas tree to retrieve that much -wanted toy are the things that often define our Christmas memories.

As we travel through the scriptures, we regularly encounter Jesus ministering to children, or sharing parables which help us see the Kingdom through the eyes of a child.  

Thirty-five years ago, the city of Phoenix was making its first effort to address the growing problem of homelessness in the downtown.  After purchasing a building to renovate into a shelter, the city began to clear an area for an “outdoor shelter.”  This facility was intended to be an alternative to the city park until the shelter renovations were completed.

Each Saturday as the site was being cleared and prepared, I took our six-year-old daughter to watch the bulldozers at work, the sod being laid, the metal sun shields being built, and the picnic tables constructed.  On every visit we talked about what it must be like to be homeless.  Lindsey would ask the simple questions of a child, “Where do they eat?  Do they go to the store?  Are homeless people mean?  Where do they go to the bathroom?”

On the Saturday before the outdoor shelter was to open, we visited the site and watched as the palm trees were put in place.  I waxed eloquent about how in a few days the homeless people we had seen on the street would have a place to stay.

But little daughter sat uncharacteristically quiet, pondering some deep thought.  Finally, she broke the silence with these words, “But Daddy, they still don’t have houses!”

I sat there sufficiently chastised.  Along with my colleagues, I had allowed the pragmatic and politically feasible to substitute for the justice demanded by the gospel.

Like so many times in the scriptures, I saw the world differently because a child had simplified the issue.  Even at six years old our daughter knew what a home was.  It was a place that families lived, where there were bedrooms, and fireplaces, and laps to sit on.  This park was not a home and we shouldn’t allow ourselves to accept it as a substitute.

Through the miracle of Christmas, we are invited to see God’s plan for our lives and our world.  We must not settle for the world’s response to those who are suffering.  As John Howard Yoder writes, “The church is called to be now what the world is called to be ultimately.”  It is the church’s job to embody the hope of Christ and share it with the world.

PrayerLord, thank You for the gift of the Christ child, and the gift of children.  Help us to untangle and simplify our perspectives so that we may see as children.

Introduction to Ginny and Fred’s Devotion Series