A Hope for the Ages
I’ve been so privileged to call this community my home church for the past two years. I’ve greatly enjoyed getting to know you and call (some of) you by name (even though some of you might know my name more often than I know yours!). My time with the three year-olds and other young ones has been so precious, they’ve taught me how to live in the moment (and how to be brutally honest with myself, outfit choices aside). By witnessing the way you love each other, my heart has been filled to see the love of Christ active within his body.
As a third-culture kid (TCK), the search for home never ends, whether staying or leaving. As a young adult, the calculus of choices only grows. As a fresh college graduate, the weight behind each choice only seems heavier. Even so, I’m appreciating the weight of faith—how much more that matters, and how the cares of the world seem to shrink in that eternal light.
After living abroad for ten years, my eyes have been opened to witness the incredible and diverse beauty of peoples made in the Imago Dei: various vocations, faiths, beliefs, and ways of life. These experiences turned into an incessant itch to leave the place where I was during my time at Calvin, even though the people around me were broadening my mind and growing my faith. This itch was why I chose to study abroad in Europe; it was why I wasn’t sure whether I would stay in Grand Rapids after graduation.
However, this body of believers has blessed me with the gift of community. In this deeply fractured world, this is the hope we need. As the hymn says, “When I fear my faith will fail, Christ will hold me fast.” It is in these moments of faltering faith that we learn to see Christ through others by learning to live into communal hope—leaning on others who help us hold that hope when we cannot do it on our own. That is how our faith is strengthened, by turning to our brothers and sisters who encourage us and remind us of the Lord’s faithfulness. German theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer in his book, Living Together, emphasizes the need for a believer to dwell in both solitude and community that are mutually dependent to have a robust faith. This then, beloved, is what helps us get through pain—when we live into our communal identity as the “beloved” of Christ. Hope can be hard at times, especially when we are plagued by troubles that do not fade with the seasons, or griefs that do not grow lighter over time. Hope can be hard at times, especially when God is invisible to our eyes. That’s why in our calling to follow Christ, we are given a body to dwell with and in, to walk alongside and to sit with. This is the community that gives me hope for our broken world—the church, the body of believers, a broken clay lamp that continues to sow Christ’s light into the darkness.
Hold tightly to each other, be encouraged by the witness of those who went before us, and make every effort to build each other up (Hebrews 12:1). Hold tighter to the Lord, and he will draw near to you (James 4:8). Keep up the good work, for the Lord knows your heart!
I have been blessed to partake in your plans and concerns, joys and sorrows. Thank you for feeding me (literally and otherwise), thank you for trusting me with your child/ren. I’m so excited to be part of this beautiful, broken bride of Christ for the next season. Don’t be a stranger, say hi (and tell me your name) this summer!