Movie Screening and More during the Spring Event Series at Journey

Mark you calendars and make a point to come out to PART 1 of our Spring Event Series...

The first event of 3 is happening Sat. March 8th!

Lenten Blog: Post Four

during this season of lent, we have invited some of the many voices at journey to contribute to our blog... to share their thoughts and experiences about lent. enjoy!

This Lenten season, I'm giving up deodorant, toothpaste and books written by Joel Osteen. So far, it's been a real struggle, considering the social consequences. Dallas Gingles would be proud of how much this has already changed my life. Joel Osteen, on the other hand, probably would not. He would probably think I'm not living my best life now or becoming a better me.

Okay, okay, I'm only kidding. So I haven't worn deodorant in weeks, but that's only because I ran out and haven't gotten around to buying more. Toothpaste -- well, who uses that anymore? And Joel Osteen books? Sadly, I can't afford 'em, probably because I haven't given enough money to Kenneth Copeland's ministry lately.

This Lent, really, I gave up chocolate. I swear, I'm the biggest chocoholic I know. None of my friends thought I could go 40 days without chocolate. Unfortunately, they know me all too well, because I'm writing this after I just had a relapse: one of my co-workers waved Ghirardelli underneath my nose. It was a successful seduction; I'm way too easy. The funny thing is, it didn't taste as good as I thought it would. Somebody must've seasoned it with way too much guilt.

And as it goes with Lent, so it goes with sin in my life as well. Of course, being the apple-eating, finger-pointing daughter of Eve that I am, I always have a very reasonable excuse (or two) . . .

"I'm tired today."

"Jesus understands how I feel."

"I'm still doing better than most people!"

"I don't believe in the rapture anymore."

"I'll stop sinning tomorrow."

. . . but I've learned that the bitter aftertaste can last for years . . .

During Lent, we purposefully deny ourselves some unnecessary thing or behavior in which we find comfort or pleasure. In this denial, or death, we are reminded that death is not only necessary, but also ultimately good. In this way, observing Lent is like an opportunity to attend our own funerals. At mine, I want the preacher to say something like, "Today, we are gathered together in this place to bury everything about Wendy that rendered her less beautiful, less pure, less loving, less holy, less human, less Christlike." Impossible? Yes, for Lent is also a time to feel, if only for a time, as hopeless as Christ's disciples must've felt the day Christ's dead, broken body disappeared into the tomb. Sometimes, this journey feels so futile, God's promise of hope as distant as the stars.

I watched Hotel Rwanda for the first time the other day. Afterwards, I spent the better part of an hour sobbing on my blood-red couch, relating more to the murderers than to that courageous guy with the funny last name. I've never killed anyone at the point of a sword, but how many of my friends, family members and acquaintances have died at the point of my tongue? In my sorrow, the satisfaction I feel in dishing out a good tongue-lashing slowly began to die. And in that death, something else was being birthed. Something new, something beautiful.

It's these sort of events that have convinced me that you haven't really lived until you've allowed your heart to be ripped out a few times and wallow in sorrow over the sin and evil in this world and your contributions to them. That's what Lent is for, to mourn the fact that we haven't died, and allow our grief to drive us to seek death in order to find new life. For when the season of Lent has passed, and the joy of Easter has dawned, we will remember that futility isn't our fate, be reminded that only God can raise the dead, and rejoice that resurrection is still His forte.

Not to mention all that Easter chocolate. I'm really looking forward to that as well!

- Wendy Scoggins

Lenten Blog: Post Three

during this season of lent, we have invited some of the many voices at journey to contribute to our blog... to share their thoughts and experiences about lent. enjoy!

So, I am completely regretting saying that I would come up with something for the Lent Blog. I realize now that it is much harder to come up with “something” worth saying after all. So I’m taking my normal rambling approach and hopefully a little meaning will emerge, but no promises.

The word Lent brings about a lot of words, phrases and images swirling around in my mind, but when I sit down to try and pinpoint what I think of Lent or any moving experiences related to Lent, it’s as if I can’t grab a hold of anything solid. To me that is a little like faith anyway so I’m going with it. I confess, I didn’t give up anything this year. I stopped drinking caffeinated beverages around mid January when I realized one Monday I hadn’t had one all day, and the miracle of it all was…. I survived!! So I went ahead and stopped drinking them then which was good but as the Lent season approached I found myself without an obvious sacrifice and in turn didn’t spend much time thinking of anything else to give up or take on.

That’s when I was reminded of last year when I struggled to give up caffeine and how hard it was for me. Russell and I both decided to give up caffeine, and I had a really, awful time of it. Headaches, grouchiness, and grieving accompanied me on my journey and all the while Russell was feeling none of these symptoms. I couldn’t believe that he was handling this so well. Where was his misery and what about the legendary headaches? Was there no justice? Obviously, I needed to go through some self-evaluation and try not to despise his obvious lack of addiction withdraw.

Time went on and we were in Michigan visiting my little sister, Margaret, for Spring Break, and we decided to take a road trip to Canada to track down some Tim Horton Timbits (for those of you who don’t know, Timbits are amazing, little, scrumptious donut holes that come in a variety of flavors). But it wouldn’t be a road trip without the obligatory stop at the local convenient store to stock up on some good ole’ fashioned junk food. Lusting after the Cherry Coke and regular Dr. Pepper, Russell tried to console me and offered to grab a Mountain Dew like he was getting. A WHAT?!! Yes, you read correctly, Mountain Dew!!!… the soda with one of the highest caffeine contents. Suddenly the world and the previous weeks of suffering became clear as I explained to my innocent husband that not all clearish sodas are caffeine free.

Thinking about this incident this year brought thoughts of intention to my mind (okay and drug trials where they give one group the placebo and the other group the real deal). Again, like I mentioned earlier, I have no grasp on all of this but the word intention stuck out to me and the intention of giving up or taking something on during Lent means to me reaching for a connection with God. Connecting is what I am trying to do more intentionally this Lent season and of course hope to continue. But I also know that I’m not good at it and so in the end this seems like a reasonable and necessary Lent goal for myself. I also know without a doubt that connecting with God is a day to day, moment by moment choice that is only a conversation, thought, whisper away.

- Katy Blake

Lenten Blog: Post Two

during this season of lent, we have invited some of the many voices at journey to contribute to our blog... to share their thoughts and experiences about lent. enjoy!

“Blindness is also this, to live in a world where all hope is gone.” – Jose Saramago, Blindness

I’ve never given anything up or taken anything on for Lent before. There are two major reasons for this: my church, growing up, didn’t practice Lent and I’ve always found it to be a silly idea. This year, I thought I would give it a try – thinking that perhaps there is more to this “season” than the practice of self-restraint. For my first Lent, I have officially given up “worrying”.

So far, this has turned out to be fairly difficult. I probably should have given up Dr. Pepper instead.

Last Sunday, as I contemplated the “apple/forbidden fruit” in my life, I realized that I couldn’t have picked a better sacrifice. Worry is my way of coping with the unknown. I start to worry when there’s a blind spot surrounding my future, my success (personally or professionally), or an outcome that I desire. It’s pretty much the staple in my assorted coping mechanisms. Worry allows me to both wrap myself in self-pity and also to feel as though I am somehow in control of the unknown. It is also a huge indicator that I don’t fully trust that God has my best interest at heart.

I’m still not entirely sure how to “give up worry” but I can say that it has been an incredible opportunity to reflect on that which gives me hope. I’ve found myself driven more and more into conversation with God about what I fear and what I desire and why. I have to admit that it is sometimes a pretty unnerving process. Everywhere I look, I am reminded of how much I have (both tangibly and intangibly) and of the constancy of God’s provision. I’m also learning that “not worrying” is not equivalent to a lack of needs or uncertainties in my life. However, if I truly believe in God’s promises for me, then I am obligated to live in a way that reflects this faith. I must force myself to see and even to seek out where hope exists – not just in the present, but in the unknown.

So, I approach these coming days with a sense of possibility. I do not know what the days ahead will bring but I shall not worry, because I am called to focus my heart and energies on more important matters. When the outcome is uncertain, joy and hope can still exist.

- Kate Meister

Lenten Blog: Post One

during this season of lent, we have invited some of the many voices at journey to contribute to our blog... to share their thoughts and experiences about lent. enjoy!

Our selves are violently put upon in stories of life and death, creation and new creation. Truths that we once held simplistically about how the world works, who has power, and how power is held are instantly overthrown with the one intrusive act of kneeling quietly, and being imposed upon by the story of God and God’s own tragic walk outside the walls of the city, and the triumph of empires, and religions, and individuals, and selfishness – of sin – over this God. The cross we hold in our flesh is formed by ashes: ashes that have been held for a year, dormant, waiting, and still, and suddenly with the sunrise, the ashes like us are called upon for the sudden rearrangement of the world, and world’s order. Suddenly, while we partied and celebrated, and lived and were life-filled up until the day before, when we wake on Ash Wednesday we find the world moving with intention towards the place of death, and not just the death of others which is intrusive enough, but the death of God, which is intrusive to all. But we find much to our protests, to our greatest fears, and our stupid selfishness, that we do not wish to die in this way. We do not wish to have our lives remade by God. We wish that the party continued unabated. We are scared of being open with God. We are forgetful of God too often, and when the time comes to be reminded of God, we protest: “anything but this;” “this is too much;” “God should leave us alone.”

The imposition has begun. Now for 40 days our journey towards the cross is symbolized in our actions: things that we have taken up as new practices, others that we have put down as old practices. We are hoping that by giving up something we are making the death of Jesus a story that we don’t just hold in our mind, but is instead a story that we tell year after year with our lives. And so, we do something with the best of intention. We give up sugar, or alcohol, or red meat, or negativity. We add a discipline or a devotion. We attempt to live out cross and resurrection in new and creative ways that we have forgotten over the last year. This is the story of Lent. Our imagination has lost its edge; we have forgotten how to be God’s people, forgotten too easily that the call of Jesus is the call of the self-emptying love of the cross, and Lent is the imposition of the cross into our imagination once again. Like the process of birth, and the violent work of creation, our lives are being remade into the life of God reflected in the ultimate hope of his death. Our stupid selfishness is matched by the ignorant, offensive cross of God who loves “wastefully.”

- Dallas Gingles

The Love of Christ Compels us to Enter into Lent...

One thing that really stood out to me in our series on "The Love Of Christ Compels Us," is the Plural nature of that phrase. In the whole passage (from 2 Corinthians 5:14) the directions are all plural. God reconciles US, WE are to be reconciled, Christ compels US, and so on. You get the picture.

As we enter into this 40 day period of Lent I am more aware than ever of the plural focus of it. WE are doing this together. WE are repenting, sacrificing, remembering, forgiving, loving, and doing it all TOGETHER. WE are compelled together to figure out what the Love of Christ is compelling US to do. From our Ash Wednesday service last night to the celebration of Easter in 40 or so days, our community partakes in Lent together.

As I enter this time, it is helpful and comforting to know we are in this together.