Next Step Evangelism
Archive for the ‘Kimberly Reisman’ Category
Kim Reisman
As a delegate to the United Methodist Church General Conference which will be held in Tampa in April/May 2012, I know that I’m not alone in asking for your prayers for this event. The General Conference is the governing body of the United Methodist Church and meets every four years. It is always an important gathering; however, there is quite a bit at stake this time around, including decisions about the episcopacy (bishops), the training of ministers & a complete overhaul of our general church structure. As we have every four years for the last 36 or so, we’ll also revisit issues of sexuality. It will be a quite a time I’m sure.
The General Board of Discipleship has created a wonderful resource – 50 Days of Prayer – which I hope you will consider using during this time leading up to General Conference. It is a devotional guide to assist you in praying for the overall body of Christ, the UMC in particular & the delegates specifically. I commend it to you.
Thank you in advance for your spiritual support as I prepare for this important gathering. If you know of other delegates, I encourage you to pray for them as well.
Peace,
Kim
Click on the title to download: General Conference_50Days_of_Prayer.
Kim Reisman
Stories for the Journey…
As my family has grown, I’ve moved the place where I study to various parts of the house. I started in a corner of my bedroom, then we were able to remodel & I got an actual room to myself (the smallest in the house of course). Then my son moved out & I was able to move into his old room. Now my daughter has ventured out on her own & I’ve just transitioned into her old room. I think I’ve reached my final destination!
At each stage of the game, I’ve gone through files & books, reading & remembering, reorganizing & discarding. The other day I came across an excerpt that my father sent me from one of his books. He had come across it in his own reorganizing & wanted to make sure I knew the story & that I passed it down to my kids as well.
Stories shape us. Our family stories. Our faith stories. We need to know our stories. This is a small one that shaped my father & me. It’s taken from his book Be Your Whole Self which was written in 1970:
…our deeds usually emanate from our values.
In a folder of precious keep-sakes I have a Drew Pearson column entitled A Rabbi’s Kindness Didn’t Pay in Mississippi. It was written at Christmastime, 1964. The article begins,
Christmas being the anniversary of a Jew born in Bethlehem nearly 2000 years ago, I write the story of a Jew who lives in Mississippi today. His name is Rabbi David Ben-Ami of Temple B’nai Israel in Hattiesburg, and his trials and tribulations began when he befriended ministers of other faiths and incurred the wrath of modern money changers.
Drew Pearson goes on to tell the story of how Rabbi Ben-Ami visited clergymen who had been thrown in jail for their demonstrations against racial injustices, of his befriending a white Presbyterian minister who had been involved in the struggle for racial justice, of his assistance in distributing turkeys to needy Mississippi families of all races under the Dick Gregory “Christmas for Mississippi” program. This was too much for the Rabbi’s congregation. They insisted that he leave. They were not ruthless, as were the money changers of Jerusalem with another Jew nearly 2000 years ago. They were polite and sympathetic – but they pointed out that they had heavy investments in Hattiesburg which could be bankrupted by boycotts. Since the Rabbi had no investment in Mississippi, it seemed simpler for him to look for another congregation.
Dunnam family circa 1963 - clockwise from bottom left: Kerry, Jerry, Freddy Davis, Maxie, Kim
That article is meaningful to me because of an incident that occurred at Christmastime, 1963. We had two children then. With them, my wife and I were driving from Gulfport, Mississippi to Richton, my parents’ home, about 100 miles away. It was an unusually cold night. Ice was on the road and it was sleeting.
We had left Gulfport following a church meeting where a lot of angry feelings had been expressed about the racial situation and my involvement in it. It was close to midnight out on a dark lonely highway when our car stalled. There was little traffic. The children were getting colder and we were getting anxious. After what seemed to be an endless time (and the passing of numerous cars) we were getting to the point of desperation, when an old model car came to a screeching halt beside us.
I told the driver our plight, and without asking any further questions, he invited us into his car, helped us transfer luggage, and went out of his way to take us to a friend’s home in the nearest town where we could spend the night and attend to the car problem the next day.
This man had an accent different than mine, and I knew he was not a Mississippian. I surmised, as we often wrongly do, that he was a Jew, and his warm ministry of love reminded me of another Jew and a story he told about a Good Samaritan. Before we reached our destination, I learned that I was right. He was a Jew. His name was David Ben-Ami, rabbi of Temple B’nai Israel in Hattiesburg.
It was this man that Drew Pearson wrote about a year later. Not only to the disinherited and dejected of the Negro race, but to a desperate white Anglo-saxon Protestant Christian Minister and his freezing family, this man expressed love. I don’t know where Rabbi Ben-Ami is today, but wherever he is, I have an idea that he lives effectively with the nitty-gritty. He has experienced values that transcend religion or race, social or economic boundaries. His synagogue in Hattiesburg may have rejected his witness, but they couldn’t annul it. Mississippi and the world is different today, because of men like Rabbi David Ben-Ami.
This is one way meaning comes – through experiencing values. That’s what religion is – the search for a value underlying all things. When we experience certain values – i.e. the value of persons, the relationship of love, the meaning of self-integrity – life takes on meaning, and we can live with the nitty-gritty.
—
People may reject our witness, but they can never annul it.
Stories convey values. Values provide meaning. Meaning empowers us to live with the nitty-gritty – whatever that nitty-gritty might be. What are your stories? How have they brought you meaning? Are you sharing them with those you love?
www.PostSecret.com
More from PostSecret…
Are you paying attention?
www.PostSecret.com
Are you learning compassion?
What’s your next step?
Click here to read part 1.
Kim Reisman
…What would it look like if the God of the world – the High God – actually was the God of all nations and tribes? What would it look like if we could get a handle on the fact that the God of the world loves each tribe and nation equally?
It’s easy to talk about the world being one, about all of us being children of God and of equal value and importance. But I don’t think we realize how absolutely radical that concept really is. As Christ followers, we don’t realize how radical it is because we’ve inherited the idea from the Gospel – it’s an essential part of the good news of Jesus Christ. It’s one part of the message that turned the world upside down when Paul and the first faith sharers began to witness to it.
This idea that we’re all of equal value and importance isn’t a human idea. That’s why it turned the world upside down when people first started sharing it. Humans could never have come up with an idea as radical as the thought that God loves all of us, regardless of tribe or nation. We couldn’t have come up with it because we’re too focused on tribe and nation. It’s that focus that’s torn God’s world apart. Whether it’s between Hutus and Tutsis in Rwanda, or between blacks and whites in the United States, or between Arabs and Jews in the Middle East; whether it’s because of gender differences, economic differences, religious differences, class differences, the result is always the same – one group positioned against another, violence in body or in spirit always at the forefront. That’s the human idea. That’s the force that Peter and Paul fought against so desperately; that’s the elementary human evil the whole bible squares off against.
A friend of mine tells a story about meeting a Muslim woman from Indonesia on an airplane shortly after 9/11. They struck up a conversation and my friend admitted that he’d been praying a lot in those frightening and confusing days. The woman said, yes, she’d been praying a lot too, and she’d decided that it was time to find out exactly what her prayers really meant. She didn’t speak Arabic, which is the only language of Islam, so she didn’t understand any of the prayers that she’d prayed daily all of her life.
What a contrast to the God made real in Jesus Christ, the God of all languages, not just one. The God who invites us to speak in our heart language, the language our mothers taught us. That God would hear us as we pray in our heart language – whatever language that might be – points to the fact that the gospel, that secret hidden from the beginning of the world, is outside every culture – it’s supracultural. It broke into our world from the outside, from beyond any of us, in order to be offered to all of us.
It seems to me one of our problems is that we’ve confused the gospel with the church. The church has become the vessel of salvation so that those who are inside are saved and those outside are lost. But salvation isn’t some kind of magic formula. You don’t get it because you discover the perfect mixture of the sacraments and church membership. Salvation is the result of the love of God and God’s grace at work in each of our lives – and God’s grace doesn’t exist exclusively in the United States or anywhere else. Every nation and tribe that would seem “foreign” to us is a nation or tribe already loved by God. Before we ever arrive, before we ever encounter, before we ever begin to build a bridge, God is there, loving and making signs of that love manifest in the lives of all the peoples of the earth. Before we ever make any connection, before we ever attempt to share our faith, God is there and God’s saving work has already begun. If the God made real in Jesus Christ were not already in love with the entire world, he could not truly be the High God we know him to be. Instead, the wise old Masai man Ndangoya would be correct in saying, “This High God of whom you speak, he could not possibly love Christians more than pagans, could he? Or he would be more of a tribal god than ours.”
Vincent J. Donovan
That brings me back to my original question. Do we really know the High God? When others look at us, do they see what Vincent Donovan saw – that we have not found the High God, that our tribe has not known him, that for us, too, he is the unknown God? How would our lives change if we really understood the fact that the God made real in Jesus Christ – the God of the world – loves each tribe and nation equally? How would that understanding change how we looked at other tribes and clans – even in our own communities? How would we act and relate to others? What next step do we need to take so that our lives really reflect the gospel truth that the God made real in Jesus Christ – the High God – actually is the God of the whole world, of every heart language, of every nation and tribe?
Do you know the High God? Are you searching for him? I invite you to search for him with me. Let’s search for him together. Maybe together we will find him.
Christianity Rediscovered ~ Vincent J. Donovan
In his book Christianity Rediscovered, Vincent J. Donovan tells the story of his work with the Masai people in Africa.
He begins by telling them about the God of the tribe of Abraham who “had become a God who was no longer free. He was trapped in that land, among that tribe. He had to be freed from that nation, that tribe, that land in order to become the High God.”
He goes on to tell them how God called Abraham to leave his land, his people, his tribe, and travel to a land God would show him and how God promised that all nations would be blessed through Abraham if he did this. Then Donovan challenges the Masai, suggesting that maybe they needed to leave their nation and tribe and land – at least in their thoughts – and go in search of the High God, the God of all tribes, the God of the world. He says, “Perhaps your God is not free. Do not try to hold him here or you will never know him. Free your God to become the High God. You have known this God and worshipped him, but he is greater than you have known. He is the God not only of the Masai, but also my God, and the God of the Kikuyu and Sonjo, and the God of every tribe and nation in the world…There is only the God who loves us no matter how good or how evil we are, the God you have worshipped without really knowing him, the truly unknown God – the High God.”
After listening attentively, someone asks a simple, but profound question, “This story of Abraham – does it speak only to the Masai? Or does it speak also to you? Has your tribe found the High God? Have you known him?”
What a profound question. Do we know the High God? As Americans, we certainly have a history of being supremely confident that “almighty God” was and is on our side – regardless of what war we’re fighting. Which god is that? Is the god we invoked to bless our troops in Vietnam as they “destroyed villages in order to save them,” the same god invoked by the pope to bless the troops of Mussolini just before they plundered Ethiopia? Is it the same god as the French God of glory – le bon Dieu – or the German Gott, der Allmächtige? And which god is it that we called upon in the midst of the turmoil in Iraq or Afghanistan?
Kim Reisman
None of these sounds like the High God to me, any more than Allah or Buddha appear to be the High God. There seems to be a desperate need to rehear the message of Abraham – leave your land, your nation. Learn of the High God, the God of the world who desires to bless all nations.
Vincent J. Donovan
Do we really know the High God? Donovan’s answer to the Masai question seems like the most honest answer for us as well. “No, we have not found the High God. My tribe has not known him. For us, too, he is the unknown God. But we are searching for him. I have come a long, long distance to invite you to search for him with us. Let us search for him together. Maybe together we will find him.”
Maybe together we will find him…What would it look like if the God of the world – the High God – actually was the God of all nations and tribes? What would it look like if we could truly grasp what Paul was trying to say in his letter to Titus - that the grace of God has been revealed, bringing salvation to all people. What would it look like if we could get a handle on the fact that the God of the world loves each tribe and nation equally? How would it change how we looked at other tribes and clans? How would it change how we acted and related to each other?
You may have noticed by now that I’m a regular visitor to PostSecret.com. It’s been a family thing for us for quite a while – each of us reads the site on Sunday & we talk about the different secrets shared there. The discussions have been priceless.
Here’s an email posted this week, that was sent to Frank Warren, creator of the PostSecret project:
Post Secret
Hello Frank
The greatest thing the PostSecret project has done for me is liberate me from false shame. My parents are addicted to meth and I was bullied day in and day out at school for years. But because of your project and the love of those in my life, I realized that my greatest pain can transform itself into my greatest strength. I am no longer allowing my abusers to get away with what they did to me and have started writing down all the secrets I kept in my past.
Beauty can arise from ugliness. Your project has helped me see my secrets for what they are: Not a burden, but a blessing of strength and hope I could never have imagined.
As someone who draws on the spiritual legacy of John Wesley, I hold an idea about God’s grace very dear – the idea of God’s prevenient grace. That’s the name for my understanding that God’s love & power go before us, working in the lives of others before we ever arrive on the scene & often before anyone becomes really aware. Posts like this remind me that God is at work in the world – often in ways that we don’t recognize & through people & projects that it may have never occurred to us that God would use. Our job as Christ followers is to get connected with what God is already doing.
Everyone has secrets. Are we allowing God’s Spirit to turn the ugliness of our secrets into beauty? Are allowing God’s Holy Spirit to transform those secrets from burdens into strengths?
What about for others? Are we allowing ourselves to become vehicles of God’s incognito grace? Are we open enough to others that God’s love can work through us to transform the secrets of others? What’s your next step?
The Islamic community in my town is planning to build a community center and worship space down the road from St. Andrew United Methodist Church where I attend. It’s raised quite a stir in the overall community. A couple of weeks ago, the pastor from a large Baptist church wrote a great op-ed piece supporting the building plans – his focus was religious freedom.
Tim Burchill - St. Andrew United Methodist Church
My pastor, Tim Burchill, wrote a piece as well. I have to admit, I was very proud…
WWJD? Take me on first. Why I’m ready for Islamic center neighbors.
What are you doing to support your neighbors? What’s your next step?
Are you paying attention?
a Sunday secret
This was posted on PostSecret.com yesterday…
Are you paying attention to the needs of those around you? What’s your next step?
Her Hands…
I’m going through a bit of transition these days with the nearing completion of my PhD. Given that the whole nature of transition is to move from one present to another, I’ve been trying to discern what that new present might look like. I often do that by looking back at the past. For whatever reason, is seems like the better handle I have on where I’ve come from, the better handle I can get on where I’m going. At any rate, I was going through some old journals & came across a poem I wrote in January, 1980 – Hands. It’s about my grandmother, Cora Dunnam.
Cora Eliza Malone Dunnam, circa 1980
Cora Eliza Dunnam
Grandma Corie
Co-Bell
Wrinkled hands
grasp my own
squeezing her message of love.
So wrinkled,
the skin
standing up like a bridge
when pinched lightly
by a small child
engrossed in the game
that is being played
on the bridges.
But soft, those hands,
not the softness of youth
but the softness of age,
like my favorite shoe
whose leather is pliant
and wraps comfortably
around my foot.
The softness is not weakness,
for the hands are strong,
strengthened by years
of toting water
to the shotgun house
from the spring
at the bottom of the hill.
Hands,
strong enough
to tote the water,
yet tender enough
to cuddle
the tiny, new baby,
born not three hours
after the last buckets
had been brought up
from the spring.
Old hands now,
but still wearing
the ring
given by the young hand
of a beloved shipbuilder.
Old hands,
still loving that shipbuilder,
and five children,
and eleven grandchildren,
and ten great-grandchildren.
Old hands,
yellowed with age
like the pages
of the bible they hold,
smelling of snuff
and kitchen,
gently stroking
the smooth, leather cover,
offering a prayer,
the words wrinkled with use
yet soft and tender,
like the hands.
…………………….
My grandmother’s hands shaped me & that’s important to me as I negotiate this time of transition. Who’s hands have shaped you? As you look to the future, who is being shaped by your hands?