Please Read: Philippians 3:4-14
I am what is called a “process artist.” My favorite creative outlets involve steps - image development, layered painting techniques, crafting a ceramic piece...etc. It has been four years since I’ve had my hands in clay, but when I read this passage from Philippians, I couldn’t help but think of
forming, drying, and firing it.
Isaiah 64:8 uses the analogy of a potter and clay to describe our relationship with God. We all begin as mud. It takes a death of fire to perfect us. Even if a piece looks perfect, until it’s put through the kiln, it’s extremely fragile.
It’s unfinished.
We can bear the appearance of Christ, but until we become like Him in dying to ourselves, we aren’t truly following Him. In the Philippians passage, Paul talks about counting all of his religious accomplishments as loss in comparison to his life lived in fellowship with Christ. None of it mattered until he gave up just existing for himself.
We can say the right things, and even do the right things, but it does matter what we are doing them for. The difference is between bearing the fragile appearance of Christ, or actually being like Him.
We must “forget what lies behind and reach forward to what lies ahead.” We must “press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.”
It’s about orientation. Rather than face the potter’s wheel where we discovered our beauty, we must face the cross of the kiln. Our beauty is still present, but now we are strong enough to be used. No longer are we just for show, we can be filled and emptied without breaking.
Holy and perfect Jesus,
We thank you for your death. We praise you for your Spirit that enables us to die as well. We confess that we are prone to the narcissism of pride and the narcissism of self-loathing. Mold us, Heavenly Father, to be like Christ not only in appearance, but also in spirit. May we decrease that you may increase. For your Glory alone. Amen.
- Rachel Whitehurst
Friday, April 11, 2014
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
Israel is Thirsty: Lent Devotional
Please Read: Exodus 17:1-17
In Exodus 17 we observe two episodes that take place as part of the much larger story of God bringing his people into the promised land.
In the first episode, God leads the way but people get restless and put Him to the test. In the second episode, God commands the Israelites to go to war with Amalek, and they win the battle.
In the midst of the larger story we see that, as Terrence Fretheim puts it, the people of Israel are “a people between promise and fulfillment.” They have been promised a land that will be perfect and their own, but they must first walk through the wilderness. They have been walking for so long that they have become weary and distrusting of God.
These two episodes together illustrate a theme of being patient on God’s timing. In the battle with Amalek, God doesn’t allow the battle to be over in five minutes. Instead, it takes so long that Moses can’t hold his arms up by himself any longer. He needs help. God did intervene, but not immediately.
We can resonate with Israel being a people between promise and fulfillment. We have the promise that one day this earth will be made new; that there will be no more tears, injustice, hate, pain, violence, or war. We trust it to be true, but these things still surround us. We experience them.
It is passages like Exodus 17 that open our eyes to reality. We can look back on the Israelite’s walk in the wilderness and judge them with a shake of our heads. With our 20/20 hindsight we say, “you should be more patient.”
Yet God is more patient. Even though the people put God to the test, even though they quarrel with Him. He still sends them the miracle they asked for; the sustenance that they needed in the midst of the wilderness. It wasn’t the full promise, but it was a glimpse. He is patient with our doubt.
Sometimes we feel forgotten and alone. We feel as though we are never going to see God’s promises fulfilled, but we must remember that God is sustaining us in the midst of our wilderness.
This time, however, we have more than water from a rock. We have living water. Through Jesus we don’t just have a future promise of refreshment. We have it now.
God, teach us to see the big picture of not only what you are doing presently in this world, but what you have done in the past, and what you will do in the future. Help us to understand our place in the midst of the much larger story of your grace. Help us to submit to your will and your desires. Thank you for your Son and Spirit. Amen.
- Colin Whitehurst
In Exodus 17 we observe two episodes that take place as part of the much larger story of God bringing his people into the promised land.
In the first episode, God leads the way but people get restless and put Him to the test. In the second episode, God commands the Israelites to go to war with Amalek, and they win the battle.
In the midst of the larger story we see that, as Terrence Fretheim puts it, the people of Israel are “a people between promise and fulfillment.” They have been promised a land that will be perfect and their own, but they must first walk through the wilderness. They have been walking for so long that they have become weary and distrusting of God.
These two episodes together illustrate a theme of being patient on God’s timing. In the battle with Amalek, God doesn’t allow the battle to be over in five minutes. Instead, it takes so long that Moses can’t hold his arms up by himself any longer. He needs help. God did intervene, but not immediately.
We can resonate with Israel being a people between promise and fulfillment. We have the promise that one day this earth will be made new; that there will be no more tears, injustice, hate, pain, violence, or war. We trust it to be true, but these things still surround us. We experience them.
It is passages like Exodus 17 that open our eyes to reality. We can look back on the Israelite’s walk in the wilderness and judge them with a shake of our heads. With our 20/20 hindsight we say, “you should be more patient.”
Yet God is more patient. Even though the people put God to the test, even though they quarrel with Him. He still sends them the miracle they asked for; the sustenance that they needed in the midst of the wilderness. It wasn’t the full promise, but it was a glimpse. He is patient with our doubt.
Sometimes we feel forgotten and alone. We feel as though we are never going to see God’s promises fulfilled, but we must remember that God is sustaining us in the midst of our wilderness.
This time, however, we have more than water from a rock. We have living water. Through Jesus we don’t just have a future promise of refreshment. We have it now.
God, teach us to see the big picture of not only what you are doing presently in this world, but what you have done in the past, and what you will do in the future. Help us to understand our place in the midst of the much larger story of your grace. Help us to submit to your will and your desires. Thank you for your Son and Spirit. Amen.
- Colin Whitehurst
Friday, March 21, 2014
Obeying in Life: Lent Devotional
Please Read: II John 1:4-6
In just a couple of days, I will see Redwoods for the first time. Ever since I learned about these massive trees, I’ve dreamt about standing beneath them. There is something mightily sacred about the hundreds of years represented in those ancient giants, and I just want to be a part of it.
Our culture might value innovation, but we cannot forget our roots.
I think that is what John is getting at in this passage. I read II John 1:4-6 as an urgent whisper to those who have grown cold. He wants the reader to know that this is nothing new. It’s as old as Moses - older even. It’s from The Beginning. I imagine John leaning in close to the desk,
eyes flashing across as the paper (or papyrus or whatever) as he writes, “Remember.”
And what is the root of roots?
That we love one another.
Even when we don’t feel like it.
Even when it hurts.
Even when it seems there is nothing to love.
Even when they don’t love us.
Don’t forget.
John reminds us because we need to be reminded. We are so good at justifying indifference, that insect known as apathy works its way into our branches.
Brothers and sisters, let us be pruned. The roots of our faith are deep. We will regrow what we have lost.
God of Adam,
You bring all things into being and sustain them with your mighty power. We praise you for your patience with an imperfect creation and confess our need for rescue. Save us from our hardened hearts. We want to love as you love. Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy
Ghost; As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be: world without end. Amen.
- Rachel Whitehurst
In just a couple of days, I will see Redwoods for the first time. Ever since I learned about these massive trees, I’ve dreamt about standing beneath them. There is something mightily sacred about the hundreds of years represented in those ancient giants, and I just want to be a part of it.
Our culture might value innovation, but we cannot forget our roots.
I think that is what John is getting at in this passage. I read II John 1:4-6 as an urgent whisper to those who have grown cold. He wants the reader to know that this is nothing new. It’s as old as Moses - older even. It’s from The Beginning. I imagine John leaning in close to the desk,
eyes flashing across as the paper (or papyrus or whatever) as he writes, “Remember.”
And what is the root of roots?
That we love one another.
Even when we don’t feel like it.
Even when it hurts.
Even when it seems there is nothing to love.
Even when they don’t love us.
Don’t forget.
John reminds us because we need to be reminded. We are so good at justifying indifference, that insect known as apathy works its way into our branches.
Brothers and sisters, let us be pruned. The roots of our faith are deep. We will regrow what we have lost.
God of Adam,
You bring all things into being and sustain them with your mighty power. We praise you for your patience with an imperfect creation and confess our need for rescue. Save us from our hardened hearts. We want to love as you love. Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy
Ghost; As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be: world without end. Amen.
- Rachel Whitehurst
Thursday, March 6, 2014
He Knows We are But Dust: Lent Devotional
Please Read: Psalm 103:8-14
Here is the setup to almost every action movie: There is a villain who exemplifies pure evil and desires
total world domination. That villain battles the completely selfless hero, whose only goal is to protect others. The villain is eventually slain and we all cheer because good has won again. We don’t shed a tear for the demise of the villain. The villain is one-dimensional and doesn’t require personal connection or personal response. We don’t have to actually engage because the story is flat and without complexity.
When we look at God one dimensionally, we can have a problem. Do we see God as only the God of love and forget His wrath? Do we see God’s wrath and forget His love?
When we have a view of God void of complexity, it prevents us from engaging Him. It prevents a personal response from us. We don’t need a God we can put into a box.
This psalm is presenting a multi-faceted view of God. It acknowledges His compassion, mercy, forgiveness and His unyielding, self-sacrificial, steadfast love. But the psalmist also identifies qualities about us that have the potential to anger Him.
When we fully understand who we are in relationship to God, that we are sinners, unworthy, like dust, it can be easy to desire theological answers that make us feel better. We might ignore mercy, or we might ignore wrath. Let us, instead, embrace God as our Father. As parents care for their child, He cares enough to set standards and have expectations for us. When we fail (although it may anger
Him), He forgives and will not hold onto anger in a way that hurts us.
Our God is not one-dimensional. Our God is triune. God the Son fulfills God the Father’s justice. Through Christ, we are offered forgiveness and love forever, despite our flesh.
May we find balance in accepting rebuke in love. May we find balance in giving rebuke in love.
God, please help us to see you for the divine mystery that you are. Break down the simple answers we have and teach us to see the fullness of who you are. Help us to come to your word humbly, without pre-conceived notions, as children thirsty for the Spirit. Teach us to see your image in others and to see others for the complex creatures you have created in your image. Father, thank you for the gift of your Son. Jesus, thank you for your life, death and resurrection. Spirit, thank you for guiding us in our life of mystery. Amen.
- Colin Whitehurst
Here is the setup to almost every action movie: There is a villain who exemplifies pure evil and desires
total world domination. That villain battles the completely selfless hero, whose only goal is to protect others. The villain is eventually slain and we all cheer because good has won again. We don’t shed a tear for the demise of the villain. The villain is one-dimensional and doesn’t require personal connection or personal response. We don’t have to actually engage because the story is flat and without complexity.
When we look at God one dimensionally, we can have a problem. Do we see God as only the God of love and forget His wrath? Do we see God’s wrath and forget His love?
When we have a view of God void of complexity, it prevents us from engaging Him. It prevents a personal response from us. We don’t need a God we can put into a box.
This psalm is presenting a multi-faceted view of God. It acknowledges His compassion, mercy, forgiveness and His unyielding, self-sacrificial, steadfast love. But the psalmist also identifies qualities about us that have the potential to anger Him.
When we fully understand who we are in relationship to God, that we are sinners, unworthy, like dust, it can be easy to desire theological answers that make us feel better. We might ignore mercy, or we might ignore wrath. Let us, instead, embrace God as our Father. As parents care for their child, He cares enough to set standards and have expectations for us. When we fail (although it may anger
Him), He forgives and will not hold onto anger in a way that hurts us.
Our God is not one-dimensional. Our God is triune. God the Son fulfills God the Father’s justice. Through Christ, we are offered forgiveness and love forever, despite our flesh.
May we find balance in accepting rebuke in love. May we find balance in giving rebuke in love.
God, please help us to see you for the divine mystery that you are. Break down the simple answers we have and teach us to see the fullness of who you are. Help us to come to your word humbly, without pre-conceived notions, as children thirsty for the Spirit. Teach us to see your image in others and to see others for the complex creatures you have created in your image. Father, thank you for the gift of your Son. Jesus, thank you for your life, death and resurrection. Spirit, thank you for guiding us in our life of mystery. Amen.
- Colin Whitehurst
Saturday, December 21, 2013
Advent Devotional
Written for the 509 Community, based on II John 1:4-6
In just a couple of days, I will see Redwoods for the first time. Ever since I learned about these massive trees, I’ve dreamt about standing beneath them. There is something mightily sacred about the hundreds of years represented in those ancient giants, and I just want to be a part of it.
Our culture might value innovation, but we cannot forget our roots.
I think that is what John is getting at in this passage. I read II John 1:4-6 as an urgent whisper to those who have grown cold. He wants the reader to know that this is nothing new. It’s as old as Moses- older even. It’s from The Beginning. I imagine him leaning in close to the desk, eyes flashing across as the paper (or papyrus or whatever) as he writes, “Remember.”
And what is the root of roots?
That we love one another.
Even when we don’t feel like it.
Even when it hurts.
Even when it seems there is nothing to love.
Even when they don’t love us.
Don’t forget.
John reminds us because we need to be reminded. We are so good at justifying indifference, that insect-apathy works its way into our branches.
Brothers and Sisters, let us be pruned. The roots of our faith are deep. We will regrow what we have lost.
God of Adam,
You bring all things into being and sustain them with your mighty power. We praise you for your patience with an imperfect creation and confess our need for rescue. Save us from our hardened hearts. We want to love as you love.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost; As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be: world without end. Amen.
-Rachel Whitehurst
In just a couple of days, I will see Redwoods for the first time. Ever since I learned about these massive trees, I’ve dreamt about standing beneath them. There is something mightily sacred about the hundreds of years represented in those ancient giants, and I just want to be a part of it.
Our culture might value innovation, but we cannot forget our roots.
I think that is what John is getting at in this passage. I read II John 1:4-6 as an urgent whisper to those who have grown cold. He wants the reader to know that this is nothing new. It’s as old as Moses- older even. It’s from The Beginning. I imagine him leaning in close to the desk, eyes flashing across as the paper (or papyrus or whatever) as he writes, “Remember.”
And what is the root of roots?
That we love one another.
Even when we don’t feel like it.
Even when it hurts.
Even when it seems there is nothing to love.
Even when they don’t love us.
Don’t forget.
John reminds us because we need to be reminded. We are so good at justifying indifference, that insect-apathy works its way into our branches.
Brothers and Sisters, let us be pruned. The roots of our faith are deep. We will regrow what we have lost.
God of Adam,
You bring all things into being and sustain them with your mighty power. We praise you for your patience with an imperfect creation and confess our need for rescue. Save us from our hardened hearts. We want to love as you love.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost; As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be: world without end. Amen.
-Rachel Whitehurst
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Advent Devotional 2
Written for 509 Community, based on Philippians 3:4-14
I am what is called a “process artist.” My favorite creative
outlets involve steps- image development, layered painting techniques, crafting
a ceramic piece...etc. It has been 4 years since I’ve had my hands in clay, but
when I read this passage from Philippians, I couldn’t help but think of
forming, drying, and firing it.
Isaiah 64:8 (and
tons of other places in Scripture) uses the analogy of a potter and clay to describe
our relationship with God. We all begin as mud. It takes a death of fire to
perfect us. Even if a piece looks perfect, until it’s put through the kiln,
it’s extremely fragile. It’s unfinished.
We can bear the
appearance of Christ, but until we become like him in dying to ourselves, we
aren’t truly following him. In the Philippians passage, Paul talks about how he
counts all of his religious accomplishments as loss in comparison to his life
lived in fellowship with Christ. None of it mattered until he gave up just
existing for himself.
We can say the right
things, and even do the right things, but it does matter what we are doing them for. The difference is between bearing
the fragile appearance of Christ, or actually being like him.
We must “forget what
lies behind and reach forward to what lies ahead.” We must “press on toward the
goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” It’s about
orientation. Rather than face the potter’s wheel where we discovered our
beauty, we must face the cross of the kiln. Our beauty is still present, but
now we are strong enough to be used. No longer are we just for show, we can be
filled and emptied without breaking.
Holy and perfect Jesus,
We thank you for your death. We praise you
for your Spirit that enables us to die as well. We confess that we are prone to
the narcissism of pride and the narcissism of self-loathing. Mold us, Heavenly
Father, to be like Christ not only in appearance, but also in spirit. May we decrease
that you may increase.
For Your Glory alone, Amen.
-Rachel Whitehurst
Saturday, April 13, 2013
One Week Old
I don't know how you do it.
Fragile neck so breakable.
Little feet that can't carry you.
Helpless.
Even so-
Exuding life and hope.
-Rachel
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