Already and Not Yet

During the first of my three years in Jordan, and every year after, I was overwhelmed by the love and hospitality shown to me by my Muslim neighbors during traditional Christian holidays. Each year at Christmas, Palm Sunday, and Easter, my friends and colleagues wished me “eid mubarak” or “blessed feast/festival.” Normally, I heard this phrase around Eid Al-Fitr and Eid al-Adha, two Islamic holidays. But, it was also used, to my surprise and delight, to wish me a Merry Christmas or Happy Easter.

I recall a conversation with a friend from my Calvin Seminary days. He was a Calvin College student. I went over the college since I was one of two African Americans at the seminary in the late 1980’s. My friend was a biracial child, who along with his sister adopted into a wonderful white Christian Reformed family in Grand Rapids. He shared with me the struggles his parents encountered when they wanted to baptize both children into the faith at their church.

Last month at the annual Synod of the CRCNA, an overture was advanced concerning a decision made at Synod 2012 about climate change. In 2012, Synod adopted the CRCNA’s Creation Stewardship Task Force’s recommendations on the issue which in-part concluded a “near-consensus … that climate change is occurring and is very likely due to human activity and that human-made climate change poses a threat to the world” (Acts of Synod 2012, p. 803).

When I started attending a Christian Reformed church in 1973, my only interest in the church was it had a basketball court inside the building. Over time, I found the pastors were gracious and kind. The interracial congregation felt its mission was that all African American lives would flourish on the west side of Chicago.

There’s one exercise I distinctly remember from a regional gathering of ministry interns and supervisors. We were asked to place ourselves on a line in relation to what power we felt we held in that room.

I placed myself at the lowest end of the line.

I placed myself at the lowest end of the line. I was not yet ordained and hadn’t yet finished my education, was fairly low income, was the one learning in that room and not teaching, and I was one of the youngest women, who also lives with a physical disability (Cerebral Palsy).

“Grace is bad arithmetic”--famous words from my pastor Dave Vroege in a sermon just over a year ago. He continued, explaining how grace is nonsense.

“Grace is bad arithmetic.”

Nonsense! Why? Because it is given to us regardless of whether we want it or not.

I’ve always understood grace to be an action word. An invitation on how to behave and act. It’s the absence of anger and the presence of love and peacefulness.

Hard words to hold when one is full of rage.

We're excited to welcome Jeremiah Damir Bašurić as a Do Justice columnist! Jeremiah lives in Edmonton, where he pastors a multi-cultural Reformed church plant called mosaicHouse Church, works at The Mustard Seed, and hikes with his wife Sarah. 

Ever since I realized my name was in the Bible, I wanted to get acquainted with the book and the prophet Jeremiah. I read Jeremiah 4:23-27 the other day looking for inspiration:  

This is the first post in Pro-Mama, a 4-part series reflecting on God's gift of life in the first 1000 days of a baby's life--from conception to age 2.

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Eager “hellos” rang in my ears as I greeted my Fulani friends. I had been absent for over a year during which I gave birth to my third child, a daughter, with a midwife in a birthing center.

Like most Sundays, I’m at the piano leading my congregation in worship. The lights are lowered in the gym-turned-sanctuary where we worship.