Dr. Karla J. Bellinger

Dec 10 2024

Does God Love Me?

I sat at her kitchen table with a cup of tea. She had been at a retreat that I had given a week earlier, and she wanted to talk about it. “You know, I really don’t believe you,” she said. That sharpened my attention. “Would you tell me about that?” I asked. “Well,” she said, “You told us that the core of our faith is that we are loved with a mighty love by a wonderfully good God.” I nodded. She shook her head. “I can’t believe that.” She went on, “I believe that you believe that. And I believe that God loves you.” She looked down at the table. “I just don’t believe that God loves me.”

That was twenty years ago. Since then, as a hospital chaplain and a teacher, a spiritual director and a preaching coach, I have heard it many times, though perhaps not said so explicitly. Others have that same block of being unlovable. I cannot just intone, “God loves you.” It does not it sink in.

I recently participated in a seminar on childhood trauma. It began to fit. Trauma survivors are not helped by solutions. “God loves you” sloughs off like oil in a non-stick pan. Trauma survivors are helped by developing resilience to deal with those early experiences that do not go away.

Jesus says in today’s Gospel, “We will make our dwelling with you.” Resilience comes through that “with.” Love comes in relationship, that there is Someone who walks with us no matter what life has thrown at us. That presence is what brings peace. The Spirit is our Advocate, God by our side here and now.

And yet . . . even as I write them, these words also just feel like words, solutions. The experience of divine presence—that is what will heal our hearts. Holy Spirit, come, make it so!

Consider/Discuss

It is estimated that 50 to 70 percent of the people who sit in the pews of Christian churches have been impacted by some kind of childhood trauma. One of those people may be you. One of them may be your brother or spouse or child. How has the presence of God, Father, Jesus, Christ, Holy Spirit—whatever name for the divine works best for you—helped you to cope with life’s experiences? What words could you use to share that sense of presence with someone whom you know that needs healing? What words don’t work?
Jesus says, “Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid.” These words come just before he is to suffer the deep and difficult trauma of the cross. Pain is real. Yet we are in the Easter season of resurrection; we believe that the Lord has transformed this valley of tears. Healing is also real. Death and destruction are not the final answer. How does Easter resurrection give you peace and/or hope?

Living and Praying with the Word

Lord God, you who love us so deeply, we come to you for presence. We turn to you in silence. We wait for you. You know the broken places within us. You know where we block you out. You know where we have been hurt. Sometimes we cannot believe the words that we hear about you. Sometimes they feel too good to be true. Come and be with us. Walk with us. We are afraid. We are troubled. But we bring you that fear. We bring you our troubles. We cannot walk through this valley of tears alone. Be with us. Help us. Let us not be afraid to come into your presence, to enter into your glory. Be present with us now in quiet and in splendor and in peace.

Dec 10 2024

Churchy Words

Churchy words have gone flat. Like a car tire sitting flat on the ground, some words have no air of experience to pump them up. Mercy and salvation, repentance and incarnation, are some words that come to mind. We hear them in church; we do not use them in ordinary life. On the other hand, some churchy words are used so glibly that they lose meaning, words like “ awesome” and “love.”

For me, the word “glorify” is a “churchy” word. Jesus uses it five times in the reading today. I skim those “glorify” verses (a word of which I have little experience) and gravitate toward the later ones that talk about love (a word of which I am fond). Do you do that, too?

Synonyms for “glorify,” when I looked it up, didn’t evoke much for me either. Why is that? Maybe because we “moderns” have more experience with its antonym—to give someone the reputation of “scumbag.” The opposite of glorify is to denigrate, to make to seem worthless, to lower someone’s reputation: that is familiar. We don’t worship leaders, we dig up dirt on them. We don’t elevate heroes, we fell them. We don’t praise, exalt, deify, adore, or worship anybody. To “glorify” is not in the air that we breathe.

In 2006, my college-age son and I went to the Philippines. He was taken aback by the air of optimism among college students at Silliman University. It made him realize how very cynical the U.S. world in which he lived was.

Was “the air” also more positive in Jesus’ day? Could you actually think well of someone? Honor them? Did the word glorify have some air of experience: to think the best of another, to see God in them? Jesus glorifies God. God glorifies the Son of Man—not denigrates him, not trashes his reputation. Glorifies. Lifts up. It makes you think, doesn’t it?

Consider/Discuss

How empty is a life devoid of glory! How do we pump the air of experience back into the word glorify so that it extols the richness and grandeur of God? It obviously meant something to Jesus, that he would use the word five times in today’s Gospel. Maybe this week, we could set cynicism aside and glorify something by saying, “This is great!” or “He/she is wonderful” or “God is good!” Try it at least once each day. See if it changes the words you say and the air that you breathe.
When I give workshops for preachers, I offer the thought that churchy words have gone flat. One of the purposes of preaching (and writing reflections) is to translate the rich theology of the church into the language of everyday experience. Abstractions mean little to how we live our ordinary Christian lives. Are there churchy words that you hear often that don’t have much life experience in them? What phrases would you like to ponder or learn more about?

Living and Praying with the Word

Jesus, you preached so concretely: you told stories of fish and farming, the soil and the sea. Help us to make your Good News clear and plain. In the world in which we live and breathe, move us from cynicism to hope, from bitterness to peace, from trashing each other to lifting each other up.

We adore you. You are the King of Glory. You are the Prince of Peace. We glorify you, we swell with admiration for what you have done and who you are. Help us to make praising you a way of life. Glory to you, Lord Jesus Christ!

Dec 10 2024

Darkness. Silence. Danger.

True art awakens us. As I gaze at Henry Ossawa Tanner’s 1902 painting of the Good Shepherd, mystery and longing arise in my chest. Tanner sets up the atmosphere with blues and dark greens. The shepherd is seen against the lighter sky behind him. The sheep are almost imperceptible brushstrokes in the shadow beneath two trees. Bodies brush together—wool to wool, wool to knees, sheep’s wool to man’s wool coat. As one moves, they all move, as much by touch as by sight. The one thing that breaks the monochrome of blue and green is the white of the moon, which peeks out from behind the clouds and lights the earth behind them. It is dark, silent. The shepherd leads his sheep home by the moonlight.

City dwellers may not know how dark darkness is, how silent is silence, how truly hazardous is rural hazard. To be apart from the shepherd in Tanner’s painting, to be separated from the flock, is darkness, is silence, is danger. That shoulder-to-shoulder-bumping into-each-other is safety in a barren land.

Art can lead us to pray. Without words, without light, we move into silence, into the blessed darkness of prayer, longing to sense that touch, that bumping of shoulders with the divine. The Good Shepherd leads us through dark valleys, keeping us close. Sometimes a shard of light illumines our prayer, like Tanner’s moon; mostly though, prayer is dark, more felt than seen, a glancing touch of the Shepherd’s wool coat brushing against us. Shoulder to shoulder, we move, the Shepherd leading us home. Home: where no one can take us out of the Father’s hand. Home: where God will wipe every tear from our eyes. Home: where we will dwell in the land of the Lord forever. Home with the Shepherd and our fellow sheep.

Consider/Discuss

Jesus tells us that his sheep hear his voice. But sometimes that voice is hard to hear. Good and evil, right and wrong, black and white, can seem like a hazy shade of gray in the lights of the city. This week, what is one thing that we could do differently in prayer to bump shoulders with the Shepherd so that we know which way to go?
The comfort of the Shepherd isn’t just for our personal satisfaction. When we arise from prayer, strengthened and encouraged, we are to be sources of peace and surety for others. With whom in God’s flock do we need to be more in solidarity? Who is being left out? What can we do to make that right?

Living and Praying with the Word

Good Shepherd, we are your people, the sheep of your flock. You have made us, and we are yours. Refresh and bless us this day. We want to be close—and yet we wander away. We take our own paths. Lead us back. We have allowed others to lead us astray. Sometimes you take us by the neck with your crook and pull us away from the cliffs. Sometimes a simple brush of your cloak steers us straight. As we enter into the darkness of prayer, reveal to us how that redirection is your love. We want to be near you. You are our safety. Keep us close, Lord. Lead us home.

Dec 10 2024

“It is the Lord!”

There is something transcendent about early morning. The cold of the air begins to warm. The stars fade as new light emerges in the east. The dew on the grass glistens in the glimmer of the first rays of the sun. In the dawn, there is a sense of Presence, a perception that there is Something More here than you and I can see and hear and touch and taste and smell.

The disciples have had a night of fruitless toil. The sun is now coming up. Last night’s refuge of “I am going fishing” has turned into this morning’s forlorn “I have caught nothing.”

The One-who-is-Something-More stands on the shore. He has been on that shore before, calling them to follow him. He has told them to throw out their nets before. He has given them a huge catch before. All of this feels vaguely familiar. The Beloved Disciple recognizes the stranger: “It is the Lord!”

“It is the Lord!” every creature on earth also sings. “It is the Lord!” the elders and the living creatures of heaven sing.

For the disciples, this morning is the new day. The forlorn night is over. This is Jesus’ last appearance in the Gospel of John. Jesus makes all things new, including the broken heart of Peter: “Yes, Lord, I really love you!” “Follow me,” he says. A new era is about to begin.

The disciples do not just give up fishing. With Peter, they plunge wholeheartedly into the water; they offer their whole strength and the last drop of their heart’s blood for the truth of that resurrection. They are willing to give all they have for the sake of that name.

Each new day gives us that opportunity as well. At today’s sunrise, Jesus says to you and me as well, “Follow me.”

Consider/Discuss

At what time of day does the Spirit of God touch you most? Different people thrive at different times. Are you an early-morning person like I am? Do you share that same elation of the new day? If you are a night person, the joy of morning may not be yours; is there something transcendent, something more, about the night for you? Talk to someone with a different biorhythm than yours. How does God move you and at what time of day?
The early martyrs gave all that they had for Jesus. Christians in many parts of the world are persecuted for their faith. That may or may not be your experience. What does it mean to you to give all that you have for God?

Living and Praying with the Word

Lord, today we begin again. It is the Easter season, the time to rejoice in newness. You give us the morning. You give us the evening. You give us the night. We really do love you. We want to follow you. Let us put no limit on where we allow you to lead us, no end to our faithfulness in following you. We do not know what we are capable of, for your vision for this new day is grander than our own. Today, this day, help us to start anew.

Dec 10 2024

Locked Doors

The door was locked. Not even a crack of light could get through. The teenager inside didn’t want to talk. She just wanted to be left alone. I felt pretty powerless. There wasn’t anything that I could do until she herself chose to open that door. I just sat on the carpet in the hallway, and prayed, “O God, help.”

The disciples had locked the door, too. They were afraid. They didn’t want to be found.

Jesus could have knocked the door down. He could have removed the hinges. He had the power to do that. But he didn’t. He used power differently. He set aside earthly physics. He “came” into their midst. There he was. The door didn’t open at all. Jesus brought his friends peace and reconciliation.

But he also had a bigger vision. He poured power into these people for a purpose—for them to burst open those doors and pour out into the streets to bring peace and healing. “Receive the Holy Spirit!” the Lord said.

And what a bursting forth! In today’s story from Acts, Peter and the apostles are running on God’s power—not power for power’s sake, but power to heal. People haul the sick out onto the streets so that Peter’s shadow can fall upon them and they are cured.

I cannot pop through walls. I had to wait. But the Holy Spirit must have oozed in through the cracks here as well. That bedroom door did eventually open. The teenager smiled through her tears. We had a good talk, peaceful and healing. I hope that she discovers her mission to bring peace and healing to this world as well, for she has much to offer. O God, help!

Consider/Discuss

Power is sometimes considered to be a dirty word. Historically, power has been abused and used to hurt. But power can also be used to heal. In Jesus’ divine mercy for the world, there is much healing to be done. What kind of Spirit-filled power would you like to pray for today, in order to fulfill the mission that you are called to?
I have a friend who is not very tall. But she is a fireball of prayer. She expects God to act. Do we live in expectation of God’s power? Jesus says, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” Are we eager for the movement of the Holy Spirit in our lives?

Living and Praying with the Word

Holy Spirit, you know that there are times when we sit powerlessly on the floor, helpless to open locked doors. We ask for your power, not for ourselves, but to be your gift to this world. Purify us, convert us, transform us, so that we can be filled with your goodness; make us magnetic, loving, and giving people. It is you who pop into unlikely places. Ooze your love into hearts that we love, no matter how closed. Your love is so beautiful, wanting us all to be fully alive. Help us to share in that mission of yours, to radiate your openness and pass it on. Breathe on our world, Breath of God!