A colleague came to work recently to introduce the staff to the newest addition to their little family. In the middle of a typical morning, our office was held captive by a 3-year-old and her almost 1-month-old baby sister. The atmosphere at work changed almost immediately. People came out of their offices. The infant was passed around amid ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ and bright smiles. The 3-year-old had her pick of playmates from several staff vying to become her favourite “grown up at mommy’s office”. The perspective was shifted so that all of a sudden deadlines, projects, and “important” work conversations took second place to making the space to welcome these children. 

This visit came to mind as I reflected on this Gospel reading from Mark. The disciples clearly were not understanding what Jesus was trying to teach them. They were silent and they did not ask questions. The conversations they were having did not reflect what He was trying to communicate to them. Even the “twelve”—those chosen by Jesus as the first to be sent out with His message, are too preoccupied to grasp what they were being told. On one level, I can relate, and this scene is of some comfort to me. After all, if they lived with Jesus and still did not understand the mission, then I can forgive myself on the days when I don’t have a sweet clue what Jesus is asking of me. But on another level—come on, guys! However, rather than reacting to the apostles' thick-headedness in frustration, Jesus tries something else. He changes their perspective rather simply, but quite profoundly. 

After using words to teach the twelve to adjust their way of thinking and being, Jesus knows he has to up His game and offer them something tangible that they can relate to. In this instance, it is a child. And not only does He bring attention to the child, Jesus takes the child in His arms. He physically expresses care for the child. In doing so, He literally shows them that what He is calling His followers to, is relationship; a relationship with others that is, in turn, a relationship with Him—and that is ultimately a relationship with God. 

We are a people of faith—not ideals of faith, not buildings of faith, not principles of faith. We are people of faith. Being a ‘people' implies that our Christian faith is not just about one person, but rather a group—a community. Care for one another and service to one another is what grows community. As a Christian community, we care for one another and serve one another in the name of Christ who was the first to care for and serve us. When we forget that—when we forget who we are in Christ—we must change our perspective. Or rather, we must make the space in our hearts and minds for Jesus to change it for us.

​Aurea Sadi

I always find it helpful to pray before I read any passage of Holy Scripture. This is because it is my natural inclination to process meaning by my own strength or ego. When I do this, the verses become flat and one dimensional. When I surrender to God and ask Him to enlighten me, I often find that words or sentences leap out from the page, very much like images in a 3D movie. At these times, I know God is directing me to an area in my life which needs attention.

In James 3:16-4:3, God’s wisdom, or in other words—the Holy Spirit—is depicted as gentle, peaceful and full of mercy. Through grace and submission, my mind is opened by this gentle wisdom to learn and receive. The good news is that we are all partakers of His wisdom according to our need and desire to ‘listen’.

“If any of you lack Wisdom you should ask God who gives to all generously and ungrudgingly, and it will be given to you.” (James 1:5-6)

The words that became ‘3D’ for me in James 3:16-4:3 were “insincerity” and “peace”. The insincerity word was painful. God’s wisdom can be painful but it is always necessary.

“God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our consciences, but shouts in our pain. It is His megaphone in a deaf world.” (C.S. Lewis)

When I run my day by my own strength and in my own ego, I become insincere because I am not my true self or the person God made me to be. My mind and heart are not open, my vulnerability shuts down, and I show less kindness and compassion to others. I am more focused on my ‘to do list’ which I work at with relentless attention. In short, I wear a mask. Whilst I believe I am happy, I am never at peace, and I chase joy away.

Our Western culture values self-reliance. Peace and sincerity can sometimes be hard to find. Christianity is counter cultural in that we rely instead on God’s strength in our lives. We become more real to self, more open to God, more peaceful and more joyful when we are in a state of surrender and humility. This is a strange paradox, but it requires our full attention and prayer—day by day, and moment by moment. Jesus said, “Apart from me you can do nothing.” (John 15:5) Nothing is nothing. We are powerless and susceptible to sin without God’s wisdom and grace. This is for me an experiential fact. ​

​Liz Galsworthy

What is an enemy? The Oxford English Reference Dictionary defines an enemy as “a person actively hostile to another.” In my experience, overcoming an enemy can be tough. It can tax one’s mental and emotional resources to near exhaustion.

Years ago, a work colleague took an active dislike to me. Never in my career had I been treated with such contempt. My colleague refused to speak to me. She discouraged others from trusting me. She intentionally undermined my work. She became my enemy.

Although my bosses were aware and sympathetic—and most coworkers were supportive—the situation never got better. My colleague continued to search for a listening ear; she left no room for reconciliation. Despite the support in my workplace, I worried. I worried about the future of my career, from which I derived such happiness. I worried whether, in light of events, my employment contract might not be renewed and I’d be facing unemployment, however temporary. How would that impact our family’s finances? Most immediate of all, I was frustrated and anxious because I did not know how to defend myself.

One day I happened across Psalms 54 and 94 respectively: “God is my helper”; “the Lord is my defender.” What a comfort these verses became to me! I clung to them. I prayed with them every morning before work and many times throughout the day. I prayed for the faith to believe that my professional reputation was safe even though I could do nothing to protect it against a determined enemy.

One evening at Alpha I was praying silently, not about work but for all the new guests there, that Jesus would touch their hearts and they would know His Presence. In my mind I saw myself, standing before Jesus. In His right hand lay three beach rocks: one marked money, one marked happiness, and one marked career. He picked up the one marked money in his left hand, crushed it and poured the dust onto the floor. Then he took the one marked happiness, crushed it and poured the dust onto the floor. Finally, he took the stone marked career, smiled at me, and tucked it in the breast pocket of His tunic. It was a beautiful message. And, in the end, it was fulfilled.

I don’t fancy myself as special enough to receive visions, but our “specialness”—or lack thereof—has nothing to do with Jesus’ choice to speak to us. He is special, and He is active in our lives.

When it comes to some enemies, no one but Jesus can rescue us. And He will do so. He is not a remote and distant God—no. He is active in our lives. He walks every step with us. And, as Psalm 54 proclaims, He hears the cry from our hearts, and He hearkens to the words of our mouths. He is in this world with us, to defend us and to sustain us and to save us.

I will praise Your Name, O Lord, for You are good to me. ​

​Donna Davis

When I read this scripture for the first time, I was deeply saddened by it. This excerpt is written years before Jesus walked the earth, but it calls to mind the point of view of the Pharisees at the time Jesus was here on Earth and describes their thoughts about Him. This prophecy revealed their utter lack of faith in Jesus and His identity. I cannot begin to imagine being in their position, thinking that Jesus is boastful and disingenuous. Although this reading saddened me, it also made me extremely thankful for my knowledge of God and the Christ-centered community that I am so grateful to be a part of. After reading this scripture, I began to reflect on how faith and belief is truly a gift from God. We are fulfilled by faith and trust in God. Our faith gives us purpose. When we are assured in God we can confidently follow through with His perfect plan for our lives. Of course, trust is easier to talk about than to implement in our lives. Trust is a conscious decision out of love that we must make over and over each day.

Having a true relationship with Jesus means that we cannot test God as if we have authority over Him. We have to teach ourselves to follow God’s will rather than expecting Him to work from our own will.

Sometimes I find myself in that terrible cycle—thinking that if God loves me, a certain event will happen or I will stop feeling anxious or distressed. In reality, God does not purposefully put us through things to make us suffer. But more often than not, I find it hard to trust in Him. With my perfectionist tendencies, I find it hard to let go of the fact that I do not have as much control over my life as I would like to. When I drift away from God, I fall into the misconception that He won’t know how to make me happy. When I finally realize that that is completely ridiculous because He made me and He instilled in me the desires and goals that I have, I always feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. God wants us to give our worries to Him so that He can help us, like any good father would. I know that it is not up to me to fully understand every detail of God’s will for my life. However, it is my responsibility to trust that His will for my life was made from Love and it is the path that will provide me with the most joy.

​Megan Noye