Michelle Layer Rahal's Blog, page 5

No Stone Unturned

You will seek me and find me

when you seek me with all your heart.

Jeremiah 29:13

What do we really know about Pontius Pilate, the Roman Prefect who ruled over Judea and sent Jesus to the cross? Yes, he is mentioned in all four gospels and by the Roman-Jewish historian Josephus, but hardcore evidence of his presence on earth—like coins with his image or a papyrus with his seal—don't exist.

If the presence of Pontius Pilate isn’t credible, how could anyone believe the story about Jesus’s death, let alone the resurrection?

I was raised to believe in God. It might be more accurate to say that I was raised to fear God. As a child, I imagined the Great Almighty as the ultimate Big Brother who was always watching to catch me when I screwed up. Saturdays were when I had to admit my sins to the priest in the confessional, say my penance of Hail Marys, and promise to try harder. (Yes, I was raised Catholic.) It was a never-ending cycle that did nothing to strengthen my relationship with my creator, but it certainly kept me on my toes!

Then somewhere in my thirties, I attended my first Christian getaway called a Cursillo weekend. This 72-hour retreat is designed to strengthen a believer’s faith and provide her with practical tools to grow closer to God. Think of it as Boot Camp for Christ.

Cursillo was the event that kick-started my relationship with Jesus. It didn’t solidify it, but it got me thinking. Though I walked away from the weekend with more questions than answers, at least I was curious. And that curiosity was enough to make me seek God in scripture and hope that everything I read was true.

Sometimes doubt can be a good thing. In the Christian faith, doubt can lead to study, and study can lead to hope, and hope can lead to truth. As Jesus said, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one can come to the Father except through me” (John 14:6). He said this to Thomas after the disciple asked, “Lord, we don’t know where you are going, so how can we know the way?” (John 14:5). I find it encouraging that even the disciples had to ask questions. If they were confused, I was in good company.

Shortly after Jesus’s resurrection, he met the remaining eleven disciples in Galilee at an appointed place. When they saw him, they worshipped him, but some doubted. (Matthew 28:17) Some doubted? Eleven men who spent the better part of three years with Jesus, who witnessed the miracles in person, who testified to his crucifixion, who knew he was placed in a tomb for three days, who then saw him alive… some of these men had doubts!

Yet, despite their doubts, rumor has it that all but one of the original disciples (John) was martyred. Peter was crucified upside down. Philip’s ankles were impaled with iron hooks so he, too, could be hung upside down to die. Thomas was pierced by spears, James was beheaded, and Matthias was burned.

No one in their right mind dies for a lie, so somewhere along the way, their faith superseded their doubt. What changed? How did these men go from questioning to evangelizing?

The Book of Acts tells us that the resurrected Jesus appeared to the disciples over a period of forty days and spoke to them about the kingdom of God. On one occasion, while he was eating with them, he gave them this command: “Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the gift my Father promised, which you have heard me speak about. For John baptized with water, but in a few days you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.” (Acts 1:4-5)

The Holy Spirit is available to all of us—not just to the original disciples. Jesus did not leave us alone to struggle through this world; He left us a counselor, an advocate, an intercessor. But to tap into this power, we must seek Him. We must look for Him in scripture, in our lives, in our world, and in our hearts. Speaking through the prophet Jeremiah, God said, “You will seek me, and you will find me, when you seek me with all your heart” (29:13). That’s a promise!

In 1961, an Italian archeologist digging in the port city of Caesarea overturned a thirty-one by twenty-three-inch stone that brought clarity to the question, “What is truth?” (John 18:38). The stone was used to dedicate a pagan temple to the emperor Tiberius around 30 A.D. The governor of this Mediterranean city had his own name inscribed on the stone: Pontius Pilate. There was proof.

God has much he wants to reveal to each of us. We declare God’s wisdom, a mystery that has been hidden and that God destined for our glory before time began (1 Corinthians 2:7). There are truths waiting to be discovered. So, lean into your doubts. Open your hearts. Seek answers. Leave no stone unturned.

THE SONG THAT COMES TO MIND is I Have This Hope by Tenth Avenue North.

Lyrics: “As I walk this great unknown, questions come and questions go,” and “I don’t want to live in fear. I want to trust that You are near.”

Remember

Tell it to your children,

and let your children tell it to their children,

and their children to the next generation.

Joel 1:3

With Easter just around the corner, our thoughts turn to family, travel, ham, chocolate, and colored eggs. (At least, mine do. Note how much of that list has to do with food!) But this week I was reminded that thousands of years before there was Easter there was Passover—an important Jewish festival commemorating the Israelites exodus from Egypt, as told in the book of Exodus. Remembering and celebrating this historic event revolves around the Seder meal.

A traditional Seder meal uses common elements to help future generations remember God’s faithfulness: unleavened bread to symbolize the Hebrew’s rapid departure from Egypt, bitter herbs to symbolize the bitterness of slavery, saltwater to symbolize the tears and sweat of enslavement, and a lamb bone to serve as a reminder of the lamb that was slaughtered so its blood could be painted on the Hebrews’ doorframes, thus ensuring that the angel of death would pass over without taking the life of the firstborn inside.

These common elements are a part of every Jewish Passover meal, yet they appear nowhere in the gospel writers’ accounts of Jesus’ last supper.

Matthew (26:26-29) and Mark (14:22-25) both state that Jesus gave thanks for the bread and the wine, telling his disciples, “I will not drink again of the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it anew in my Father’s kingdom.” Luke adds information about Jesus’ need for fellowship before going to the cross when he wrote, Jesus said to them, “I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer” (Luke 22:15). And John focuses on servanthood when he shares how Jesus washed his disciples' feet (John 13:1-17) and instructed them to do likewise.

No bitter herbs. No saltwater. No lamb bones. Bread? Yes. Unleavened? Probably, but we don’t know for sure.

Whereas other Jews were celebrating Passover by looking backwards in remembrance of their deliverance, Jesus was telling his disciples to look forward in expectation of a deliverance yet to come.

When I was a child, my parents went to great lengths to create individual Easter baskets for us kids loaded with chocolate bunnies, speckled malt balls, and tangy jellybeans. They would hide them in the most obscure places, and then watch with giddy curiosity as we scrambled under tables, behind couches, and through closets in search of them. I remember the year they hid my Easter basket in the dirty clothes hamper—a place I would never dream of looking. It took hours (or at least it seemed like hours) for me to find it, and that was only after my father gave in to my appeals for a hint. It’s an Easter event I will never forget.

I’m sure we can all say that our parents created memories for us to share, but we should never forget that God has called us to share him as well.

We can take our cue from Psalm 78, which sounds as it were uttered by Jesus himself, even though the Psalms were written centuries before he was born.

My people, hear my teaching:

listen to the words of my mouth.

I will open my mouth with a parable;

I will utter hidden things, things from of old— things we have heard and known,

things our ancestors have told us.

We will not hide them from their descendants;

we will tell the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of the Lord,

his power, and the wonders he has done. He decreed statutes for Jacob

and established the law in Israel, which he commanded our ancestors

to teach their children, so the next generation would know them,

even the children yet to be born,

and they in turn would tell their children.

Then they would put their trust in God

and would not forget his deeds

but would keep his commands.

Easter is the perfect time to remember all that God has done for us, and it’s the perfect time to share with others the hope He promises for them. If you’ve never shared your faith with anyone, perhaps now is the time. It’s not as hard as you might think. After all, God’s story is our story; and who doesn’t like hearing a good story?

So, wherever you are this Easter—remember who got you there, and whatever you’re eating—remember who provided it, and whoever you’re with—remember who created them. With gratitude, praise, and expectation—remember. Then tell others.

THE SONG THAT COMES TO MIND IS ,Remembrance by Hillsong Worship.

Lyrics: “If ever I should lose my way, if ever I deny your grace, remind me of the price You paid. Hallelujah. I live in remembrance.”

Evil is Real

Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit.

Rather, in humility value others above yourselves,

not looking to your own interests

but each of you to the interests of the others.

Philippians 2:3-4

Hospital beds laden with terminally ill children lined up in a dark basement. Bloody bandages wrapped around the head of an elderly woman who struggles to walk. The back of an ambulance where a mother sobs uncontrollably as her child dies inside. A train pulls out of the station, each window bearing the tear-ridden face of a child waving goodbye to his father. The bombed insides of an apartment building strewn with broken dishes and shattered toys.

These are the images coming out of Ukraine. Images I cannot shake from memory. Is this what Russian President Vladimir Putin wants to be remembered for?

I am trying to make sense of Putin’s moves. Some reporters have speculated that he may be unstable, ill. If that’s true, why hasn’t someone stepped in to get him the help he needs? If he is mentally unstable, why is he allowed to continue leading a country? I don’t think Putin is ill. Illness can be managed. Evil cannot.

What causes man to pursue evil? Power? Greed? Vainglory? Yes. This plays out again and again in the Bible. King after king in the first and second book of Kings “did what was evil in the sight of the Lord” to advance their own ambitions. (Check out 1 Kings 11:6, 14:22, 15:26, 16:25, 21:20, 22: 52—I could go on, but you get the picture.)

Over the last 20 years, Putin has watched NATO and the EU move further east bringing the threat of democracy from the west closer to Russia. From France, to Germany, to Poland, and most recently to Russia’s doorstep: Ukraine. To maintain power and status quo, the Russian government has invaded Ukraine to send a clear message to the western world: Stay away!

Putin has one goal, which is to maintain the buffer zone that currently exists between his government and democracy. He doesn’t care if women and children die in the process, nor does he care if Ukraine is left devastated. But I do think he is surprised that so many of the Russian people have protested the invasion. During the first four days of the war alone, more than 5,000 Russians were arrested. Will this be enough, however, to make Putin reassess his decision?

When King Saul felt threatened by David’s popularity, he did not listen to the people or humbly take David under his wing. Instead, he tried to control him by offering his daughters to David in marriage (1 Samuel 18:17-21) and by plotting to have him killed at the hands of the Philistines (1 Samuel 18:25). But we all know what eventually happened to Saul—not at David’s hands, but by the power of God—and we can take comfort in Proverbs 16:18. Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.

The battle is God’s, so we leave room for God’s justice. I am reminded of Paul’s words to the Romans who were under intense persecution. He said, Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,” says the Lord. (Romans 12:19)

I don’t know the right course of action. I wouldn’t want Russia establishing a military base in Cuba or Mexico, but I also wouldn’t condone the U.S. military bombing the heck out of those locations just to show Russia who was boss of the western world.

While the powers of this world decide the next move, I will pray that the persecuted find peace, the imprisoned receive justice, and our leaders do all they can to protect the weak. During this Lenten season—a time to commemorate the death and resurrection of Jesus and reflect on what it means to be a Christ-follower—I have committed myself to praying all of this daily, with urgency and fervor. Will you join me? I urge you, first of all, to pray for all people. Ask God to help them; intercede on their behalf, and give thanks for them. Pray this way for kings and all who are in authority so that we can live peaceful and quiet lives marked by godliness and dignity. (1 Timothy 2:1-2)

None of us knows what tomorrow may bring, but until God calls us home, we must live as Christ calls us to live in this broken world. Life is fragile, and evil is real, but God is still on his throne.

THE SONG THAT COMES TO MIND is ,Battle Belongs by Phil Wickham.

Lyrics: “So when I fight, I’ll fight on my knees.”

Ousia

When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became an adult, I put childish ways behind me. For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. 1 Corinthians 13:12

Before 7:00 a.m. this morning, I had learned a new word—ousia. I found the word buried in the 9th chapter of a new book I am reading, which is really an old paperback I purchased for a dollar on a clearance rack: Madeleine L’Engle’s "The Summer of the Great-Grandmother," first published in 1974. I was not attracted to the cover or the title, but rather to the author who also wrote "A Wrinkle in Time," a favorite book of mine as a child.

I expected "The Summer of the Great-Grandmother" to be fictitious, but it’s not. It’s L’Engle’s autobiographical account of her struggles to comprehend and care for her aging mother as she slips deeper into senility. Sadly, I am able to identify all too well with many of the emotions L’Engle shares in her book.

A couple weeks ago my mother turned 84. She is in a nursing home in upstate New York, close to the farm where she grew up and the house where she reared five children. Both properties have been sold and now exist for her only in her memories, if at all. Unfortunately, we do not know what she remembers or what she comprehends. A serious stroke in 2015 left my mother paralyzed on her right side and stripped her of her ability to speak. She recognizes most people and seems to provide appropriate facial expressions when we tell her stories, but then there are times when she doesn’t appear to understand us at all. She is confined to a wheelchair, has lost several teeth, and there is often leftover food on her clothing as a result of feeding herself with her weaker left hand. She is not the mother I remember, nor is she the mother I want to remember.

Which brings me to "ousia." Ousia is a Greek word that means “true being or divine essence.” It is a touch of God in each of us that lies beneath the perceived outward image. There is very little trace of my mother’s ousia in her outward appearance, what with her messy hair and stained clothes. Luckily, there are no mirrors in the nursing home—a deliberate omission, I’m sure, to keep the guests from realizing how pathetic they look.

Jesus tells Peter in the last chapter of the Book of John, “I tell you the truth, when you were younger you dressed yourself and went where you wanted: but when you are old you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go.”

To honor my mother, I try to look beyond the obvious and focus on her ousia. I look into her eyes and tell her that she is amazing and loved. If my eyes reflect back competence, strength, vulnerability, and creativity, it is only because a competent, strong, vulnerable, and creative mother raised me. She reminds me who I am.

I miss her so much, and yet she is all around me. Sometimes when I walk past a mirror, I catch a glimpse of my mother in me—the same facial structure, the same nose, the same eyes. I recognize her skills when I cook, knit, or pull weeds from the garden, bending at my waist rather than my knees. I hear my mother when I laugh abruptly or talk back at the TV. And apparently, I’ve acquired some of my mother’s habits, which I will refrain from sharing. I am my mother’s daughter.

With that said, I know it is quite possible that I, too, will end up in a nursing home due to complications from a stroke. After all, my mother’s mother and all her sisters died of stroke, and I had one several years ago, though my brain has since healed. If this is my fate, so be it. However, if I do end up in a nursing home in a wheelchair, unable to speak, I pray God will bless me with at least one person who will look beyond my outward appearance and attempt see my essence. May we all be striving to see each other through such a lens.

THE SONG THAT COMES TO MIND IS Remind Me Who I Am by Jason Gray.
Lyrics: “When I lose my way and I forget my name, remind me who I am.”

Spiritual Friends

"Two are better than one because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift the other up; but woe to the one who is alone and falls and does not have another to help."
Ecclesiastes 4:9–10

I vacationed a LOT this summer with different groups of people, but the overall experience was always the same.

It began with my praise band’s annual retreat weekend to Ocean City. My band mates and our families ate every meal together, made sandcastles, took long walks, and played music late into the nights.

Next was a family gathering in Niagara Falls, NY. My three siblings and I grew up in a small town less than 30 minutes from this natural wonder, so it was a homecoming for most of us who no longer live in the area. With the family farm sold and our parents living in a senior care facility (ages 87 and 83, praise GOD!), we out-of-towners were lucky enough to secure a house through @Airbnb that could accommodate all 14 of us. We played games, took day trips, gathered around Mom and Dad, watched fireworks, and squeezed in a family photo shoot.

Before my next getaway, my husband and I hosted a dinner party at our home for our former missionary friends who were in town and 20 of their closest friends. Over a gourmet burger bar, we shared stories dating back to middle school, laughed a lot, and made plans for another get-together next year.

The next weekend I headed to Myrtle Beach with two girlfriends. Though we did squeeze in a walk on the beach each day, we spent the majority of our time just hanging out together: talking, shopping, talking, eating, talking, watching movies, and talking. After all, this is what girlfriends do!

Last weekend I drove to Cape May with a coworker to meet up with two other colleagues and their spouses to attend the Global Leadership Summit. Though our attention was tuned to the speakers each day, our evenings were spent debriefing what we learned over long dinners with the focus on incorporating better leadership practices into our church.

So far, I’ve had 5 mini-vacations in 5 different homes in 4 different states, crossing paths with more than 60 different individuals in the process. But like I said at the start, “…the overall experience was always the same.” I walked away from each trip feeling lighter and fuller and more grounded than when I arrived.

You may be thinking that the common thread was wine. Though that was A common thread, it was not THE common thread. THE common thread was God.

Prayer covered each journey, each meal, and each activity. My mini-vacations were blessed times with spiritual friends—band mates, family members, coworkers, and spiritual friends. No unkind words were spoken. No fights broke out. No one’s feelings were hurt. No one went home emotionally exhausted because we spoke to each other in love, laughed heartily, and respected everyone’s opinion—building each other up instead of tearing each other down. This is what God calls his followers to do. “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.” Proverbs 27:17

Truly, my heart aches for those people who dread family vacations, work retreats, and planned get-togethers with so-called “friends.” The outcome of every gathering is questionable at best if Christ is not at the center. Though my heart aches for these people, I will admit that I don’t want to vacation with them! I have now reached an age where I am comfortable saying “no” to life-sucking situations. I want to live, and live for Christ!!!

With that said, I am greatly looking forward to NEXT week’s vacation to Maine with four of my sisters-in-Christ. Not only will we eat lobster and drink wine, we will pray together, talk about things that matter, encourage one another, challenge each other, and point one another to Jesus. And I know without a shadow of a doubt that the outcome will be the same: we will all go home wishing our trip had lasted just one day longer.

The Song that comes to mind is: "More Than You’ll Ever Know" by Watermark.
Lyrics: “Something about just being with you. When I leave I feel like I’ve been near to God, and that’s the way it ought to be.”