Andrew Nemr // Pastor

A Journey of Faith

The Journey

In the Dark Night

Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise Him, my salvation and my God.

Psalms 42:11 (ESV)

The walk of a follower of Jesus Christ is not guaranteed to be free of struggle. On the contrary, perhaps. The joy of the Spirit fills us in spite of what our worldly circumstances might look like. This is the witness of a follower who is filled a Love that is not of this world. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

When the dark night of the soul is given to us…

When we experience the misunderstanding of others, the divisions of strife, public lashings from those against us, and perhaps even a glimpse of the isolation of the cross…

When we are overcome with sadness, sorrow, and grief…

Let us be reminded that our own Savior has walked these same steps before us. Brought to His knees in the garden. He was tempted to change his path by the weight of all he had experienced and he was about to endure. Overcome with emotion, he prayed more earnestly with his sweat becoming as drops of blood.

In the darkest hour, we are not alone, and Love still reigns. We still have our God to go to.

We can ask ourselves, “Why are you cast down, O my soul?”

We can remind ourselves, “Hope in God.”

We can trust in a future in which we shall again praise Him, our salvation and our God.

Amen.

Only One Performance Matters

In the performing arts, and especially in the western world, there is an incredible pressure to achieve uncanny heights of technical proficiency, share ourselves on and off the stage, and pursue public success (in the specific way that the industry defines it).

In this context, it is important for those with a specific revelation of Jesus Christ to remember what performance actually matters. It is not the one in the sight of people, but rather the one that is in the sight of God.

I still remember reading Psalm 51 for the first time. It struck me that the psalmist wrote that he had sinned against God and God alone, having my own experience seemed to always involve someone in addition to God.

But wait. The pressure to perform can rear its ugly head in the context of any relationship. Lest the pressures to perform interrupt our experience of Grace, we have to remember that there actually is grace. Any pursuit of performance should be in response to the overwhelming experience of God’s abiding love, fueled by His strength, and fulfilled in Him. Performance can not be our way to gain value, appreciation, or acceptance. If pressed into that service, performance will ultimately fail us.

No. In the context of divine love, we already have value. We already are appreciated. We already are accepted. In the sight of God we already are His beloved children.

Let us remember.

For only One is your Teacher

In the book of Matthew, chapter 23 the writer recounts a moment when Jesus addresses a crowd and his disciples. In addressing both the curious and the committed this message is applicable for everyone. He speaks directly to the hypocrisy of the religious leaders of the day, saying, “…observe whatever they tell you, but not the works they do, for they preach, but do not practice.” Simple. Attend to the truth that they speak, but do not mimic their actions. More so do not be confused by the hypocrisy. They preach, and this is good and right and true. But they do not practice, so simply ignore that. Do not observe it. Do not attend to the works lest you be led astray.

Jesus goes on to describe how this hypocrisy shows up. How the leaders lay heavy burdens on the people but are not willing to do any work themselves. How whatever work they do actually accomplish is done for the sake of being seen by others. The leaders love their societal standing, their titles, the attention, their occupying of prime seats, and how they exaggerate the religious accessories they wear.

Then Jesus addresses how his followers are to be different. Over the course of three sentences Jesus changes the use of three words. Rabbi, father, and leader (also translated as master or teacher). There are two things of note here.

First, followers of Christ are not to be called Rabbi or leader. With Christ, there is no need for titles of honor or prestige. The relationship among believers is not hierarchical. We are all brothers and sisters of equal value. We have one Rabbi and one leader, that is Jesus Christ. The rest of the organizational chart is flat. Now it should be noted that not everyone has the same skill, gifting, or specific purpose in the body of Christ – but we all have equal value. Our equality is expressed in that God can use anyone at anytime for His purpose, He can give and take away whatever He desires from anyone at anytime. The problem with titles of honor is that they set social power dynamics. People adjust to abide by or protest the social power dynamics that are set by these titles. Relationships have been known to change because of these dynamics. The titles, when given, may even make some people feel more important (more valuable) than others. No. For the believers, there will be none of this.

Secondly, Christ says that believers should not call anyone on the earth Father, but only our Father in heaven. God has exclusive rights to the name, and all that comes with it. No more fathers of a tribe. No more authors of a family, legacy, or tradition. There is only one, the author of all things, the transmitter of all information. The only one to hold this place of honor, albeit with Christ at His right hand. Our Father, who art in Heaven…

If none of this clarified the dynamic in which the disciples were to relate to each other and God, Jesus presses the issue. “The greatest among you shall be your servant.” And in case they didn’t make the change? “Whoever exalts himself shall be humbled” and for those who were wondering, “whomever humbles himself shall be exalted.”

So how in the world is a believer supposed to operate in a world in which advertising and the exalting of oneself is expected AND, if we are found to be popular in our particular industry, we may be pushed into seats of honor.

First, no more titles. Masters, legends, gurus etc., are out. If we have been given wisdom through revelation and experience by the Grace of God, our responsibility is to share what we’ve been given (especially with those seeking that wisdom). The responsibility of the seeker is to support the opportunity for that sharing to happen in whatever way they can. In that way, all are provided for: giving what they are tasked with giving, and receiving what they need to receive.

Secondly, we have to be consistent in God’s sovereignty and exclusivity. To whom do we give thanks and praise when we are commended for the work God has allowed us to do? Whom do we recognize as the true teacher in the classroom, director of the theatre, leader of the team and organization, or head of the household? Our Father, who art in Heaven…and Him alone.

In this way it is the Truth of God that holds and wields power, not any particular person with any particular title. It is the Truth of God that teaches, edifies, and sets right our thoughts and actions, not a person or any particular legacy or tradition. It is the Truth of God that mediates every relationship and fundamentally defines love.

Amen.

A Morning Coffee Changed My Life

We sat down and ordered. It was early and I don’t drink coffee, but Ronna did. It was spring of 2014. I was in a lull. The tap dance company that I was directing was having its fair share of challenges, and I felt lost. I knew what I wanted – a full time working tap dance company – I just didn’t know how to get there from where I was.

I don’t remember how the introduction was initially made. What I do remember is a dear friend introducing me to someone who she described as her “heart mom.” I had met my friend Lisa almost a year prior and we connected on similar dispositions as only children, enjoyment of the abstract, and an interest in navigating the intersection of seemingly disparate subjects. It turned out that Lisa’s heart mom, Ronna, wanted to learn how to tap dance, and so began the conversations between myself and Ronna. While the introduction was casual, Lisa later warned me, “I think Ronna can help you, so be nice.”

I made an extra effort to stay in touch with Ronna, and almost six months after our first introduction we managed to connect in person. It was November 2014. I was still in a lull. We agreed to meet for an early morning coffee in the Chelsea area of Manhattan. I’m not an early riser (and no coffee for me) but I said yes.

I arrived early, and immediately found street parking right next to the coffee house. Easily finding street parking during morning rush hour in New York City may be considered a minor miracle. I took it as such. Ronna, an older woman completely evocative of the stereotypical “Jewish mother” but without the Yiddish accent arrived and we took our seats.

We order our respective morning drinks – coffee for Ronna, tea for me – and a few minutes of small talk ensues. Then Ronna shifted gears.

She says, “So this is how this works.” I was listening. She continued, “Everyone already knows what they are supposed to be doing. but very few people give themselves the permission to say it, let alone do it. I’m here to give you the permission to tell me what you are supposed to be doing.”

The next thing I know I hear the words, “I think I’m supposed to become a pastor,” come out of my mouth and I begin to cry.

Pause.

Some backstory. I grew up in a family of three, just my parents and me. Both my parents are professing believers in Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior. They had met each other in a very active youth group in Lebanon, but by the time I was a young child my family wasn’t attending any church gathering with regularity. Moving around a lot, and challenging encounters with unhealthy church cultures are likely culprits for this. Nevertheless we did manage to attend a local church service every Christmas and Easter.

Ronna responded calmly. “That’s very good,” she said. “You’ve just told me what you’re supposed to be doing. Now, I don’t work with anyone who doesn’t actually do what they say they are supposed to be doing. So what are you going to do about this?”

For three years before I sat with Ronna I had become a regular attender, been baptized at, and a member of, Graffiti Church. This was my first sustained encounter with the institutional church. I still had no idea what, “I think I’m supposed to become a pastor,” meant for me. But, I thought, maybe my own pastor would know.

Through my tears I got out, “I have no idea what what I said means. I think I have to go talk to my pastor.”

And so the journey began.

The Journey

Faith is a journey. A journey of revealing of the things we can’t see. A journey filled with asking questions and engendering trust. A journey through the history of the world and the work laid before us. With God at the center unveiling himself to whom He wishes, as He sees fit.

With me, God began to show himself through Jesus Christ, first through the faith He gave my parents. Then, in the practice of dance. Then through a community of similar journeyers. Now the journey sits at the interaction of all these relationships, with God over them all.

Every step in the journey has been a continual unveiling. Some questions have been answered, others remain. For the questions that linger there is the trust in what already has been revealed.

The provision given for the journey is large. Foremost there is prayer, the opportunity for us to commune individually and directly with our creator. Then there are the testimonies of our creator that we may know through scriptures. Finally, the community of fellow journeyers, through which iron might sharpen iron.

Wherever this may find you, with whatever provision you may have at hand, may God speed you on your journey.