Wisdom on Faith, Danger, and Caring For Others

The “whoosh” gives it away. Actually, Ezri whining at the door is the first sign. Hot Air Balloon morning Only dogs can detect the shrill whistle of the burner, and she hears it long before the dragon looms overhead. She is terrified. Every day in summer, and on many mornings throughout all four seasons, visitors to Pagosa Springs rise at the crack of dawn and take to the skies.

Kevin and I love it! Who wouldn’t? Colorful characters come drifting over, dipping and lifting and giving visitors to our southern Rockies stunning views of the San Juan Range. At least twice a year, balloonists come from all over the country for festivals that fill our skies. Weekend warriors surprise us on random Saturdays with multiple launches. We keep lawn chairs in the garage so we can pull them into the driveway on a moment’s notice. Cool summer mornings, a cup of coffee, and a sky full of hot-air balloons. What could be better than that?

Even with her meager doggy mind, Ezri can think of a few things.

In fact, I believe she thinks we are probably idiots. She panics, each and every day. We’ve tried everything to calm her. Sadly, we cannot make her understand there is no danger. All we can do is take her fears seriously and pet her. This threat will pass in just a few minutes. We know this is nothing to be concerned about. I wish she understood plain English. All she knows is that there is a fire-breathing dragon just waiting for her moronic humans to step outside and risk incineration.

Whom Do You Trust?

I cannot help but see the parallels between the canine view of the world’s perils and my own. She knows nothing of Donald Trump, COVID-19, climate change, white supremacists, or any impending financial disaster. Her biggest concerns are:

“Are my food and water dish full?”

“Will one of them walk me soon?”

“Are my people okay?”

I once had a church fellow challenge me on comparing animal thought processes to ours, because humans alone are made in the image of God. While the Lord may have made us in His image, we can learn a lot about faith and devotion from our four-legged friends. Being human gives us some distinct advantages, including dubious choices about which of God’s commands to obey. Dogs, on the other hand, know a few good things for certain: chew toys, friendly playmates, food, water, playtime, nap time, and their people.

Hot Air Balloon Fire Ezri’s people are me and Kevin. She depends on us for food and water. She knows one of us will take her outside. In return, she offers unconditional love, unflagging devotion, and if necessary, the willingness to die to protect us should the need arise. She proved that one night when a drunk neighbor tried to walk into our house at 2 AM. We give her our best possible care, and she trusts us, her fallible, idiotic humans, to keep her safe from hot-air balloons.

We Trust Jesus

As humans, we have proof of God’s promise to care for us. When dragons are on the doorstep, we try to have faith that everything is going to be okay.

We trust that our food and water dishes will be full, because Jesus says, “Therefore, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink.”- Matthew 6:25 NIV

Because He said, “And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age,” we know He will never leave nor forsake us. (Matthew 28:20 NIV)

The promises of God are numerous, gracious, and good. But what about His instructions to us? Here’s where it’s easy to fall short of canine behavior.

Do we really ask, “Are my people okay?”

In my prayers, I ask God to take care of my people. But the reality is, all my people are not okay. Even if my immediate circle of family and friends appear to be fine at the moment, our Savior was quite clear in His instructions. For followers of Jesus Christ, ALL people are our people. ESPECIALLY “the least of these.”

How do I know this?

Jesus said, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’, and ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.'” (Luke 10:27 NIV) When the expert in the law asked, “And who is my neighbor?” Jesus responded with the story of The Good Samaritan.

In Matthew 25:31-46, Jesus gives clear instructions on how treat others in The Parable of the Sheep and the Goats . Our Savior used simple stories to illustrate moral or spiritual lessons. None of us have to be rocket scientists to understand how He wants us to treat, and protect, our fellow humans.

I could go on and on, listing dozens of verses on how the Bible says we are to treat aliens and strangers in our land; how we are to treat orphans and widows, the poor, and the least of these. If you have questions, you can ask Google or Siri to find Bible verses with these key words.

The reality is, our people are not okay. We have a Biblical mandate, spread throughout the Scriptures, to take care of all people in our Savior’s name. For folks who profess to be followers of Jesus Christ, this is NOT OPTIONAL. THIS IS MANDATORY. And in these uncertain days, we must pull on our big kid pants and fight Trump’s agenda: to terrorize and vilify refugees; to overturn the Affordable Care Act and snatch health insurance from 23 million Americans; to take from the poor and give tax breaks to the rich; to deny a worldwide pandemic because it interferes with his pep rallies; to withdraw federal money for COVID testing; and to protect white supremacists from justice. The list is endless; this just captures the headlines from today.

The terror Ezri feels over hot air balloons parallels the despair I feel over Trump. But then I remember: I am not distressed in the least over giant nylon bags of hot air. God is not in the least distressed over Donald Trump. While I cannot convince Ezri that the dragons are not going to incinerate us, I can trust God that He’s got the Trump situation in His hands. Before we know it, Donald will be a memory. The dragon will be slain.

The fire will be out.

And sadly, we’ll be on to the next challenge, because this ain’t Heaven. But if my dog doesn’t give up, I won’t either. Every stinkin’ morning at least one dragon will rise in her neighborhood. She’ll always believe her owners are idiots. She’ll panic for a few minutes, each and every day, until the danger has passed. We will take her fears seriously and pet her. We will pray for God’s Kingdom to come, for all people, and for the courage, strength, and wisdom to take action and stand up for what is right.

And we will thank God for it all. Amen.

I had so hoped this day would never come.

Thirty-five years ago, I bucked my family’s belief system and fell into Jesus’ arms. I found Him through a born-again Christian woman who spent years praying for me. It took her even longer to get me into a church; I just couldn’t imagine rubbing shoulders with all those “holy” people. At that point, we didn’t have a lot in common. But little by little, I learned their ways. I liked their music. I adored their Jesus. And they showed me a love I had never seen before: what it meant to be a part of the body of Christ.

So for most of my adult life I have been a born-again Christian, attending Evangelical Churches. Within their walls I found a family and community I could never have imagined beforehand. Within their belief system I learned how to study the Bible, so I could really get to know my Savior. Within their arms I found comfort and support through the ups and downs of life. Through their prayers I found the courage to have faith. Through our friendships I found the connection to humanity I always wanted.

I felt that, short of Heaven, I had found Home.

Yesterday, I said goodbye.

My heart was truly shattered when my daughter Catherine died suddenly, but this pain isn’t like that. This is more of a prolonged agony. In some ways, leaving is a relief. When Trump was elected I was just plain flabbergasted. As time went on, I absolutely believed that Evangelical Christians, my own people, would see who he is and that his agenda runs contrary to the teachings of Jesus. I was woefully ignorant of the political juggernaut known as the Religious Right. Last September, I started reading up on the movement. What I found sickened me. They are not about Jesus. They are about power. And boy, did they get it in Trump.

Since this is a postmortem rather than an exposé, I’ll spare you the details. All that really matters about dealing with a great loss is recognizing its enormity, grappling with its implications, and accepting that life will never be the same. I really did go through all of Elizabeth Kübler-Ross’s stages of grief during these last few months:

Denial: You’ve got to be kidding me. They can’t see through this guy?

Anger: Who’s responsible for leading these people astray?

Bargaining: If I just point out the flaws in their logic, they will get it.

Depression: Oh, my God. We’re going lose our family. Our community. What’s going to happen to us? We’ll be all alone. They really believe this. They support Trump. This is not going to change.

Acceptance:

“Dear Leadership Team: Seeing the events taking place in the church over the last several years makes us so sad and disheartened that just entering a church brings us to the point of tears. After months of prayer, and with great sorrow and regret, we ask that you remove our names from your membership roll and cease communications. Thank you for the time we were able to spend with you, and we wish you all the best.”

And so yesterday, it was finally over. No one who knows us will be surprised, but there will still be some who are sorry to see us go.

I know there are other kinds of churches that aren’t part of the Religious Right political movement, some who even consider themselves Evangelical. I’m praying about where God would have us go next. The heavy weight of grief is still parked on my chest. But barely within earshot is a whisper of hope that there will be another family out there, somewhere.

Goodbye to this version of the Evangelical Church. May God open your eyes before it is too late.

*This article was reprinted online at Red Letter Christians. org

Month: June 2020

The Dragon Ezri Sees

Wisdom on Faith, Danger, and Caring For Others

Whom Do You Trust?

We Trust Jesus

Do we really ask, “Are my people okay?”

Saying Goodbye