(Photo Credit: Mashable.com)

In the course of discussions with my senior Comparative Religions classes, we inevitably wander our way down the rabbit trail of sovereignty and free will.

“If God knew we would sin, would hate, cheat, lie, and steal, why did he allow us to do so? Why create us at all?”

Why, when we inevitably choose wrong, are we able to choose at all?

Tonight I went to see The Giver with my little sister. The main character, Jonas, is the Keeper of Memories in a Community in which everyone is medicated and emotions are not experienced. Jonas experiences emotions, both good and bad, and realizes that love is more powerful than sameness, than safety, than “equality.”

I read the book as a middle schooler, but the movie, the juxtaposition of the greyscale Community with the brilliant color of this world, was overwhelming to me tonight.

I witness selfishness, entitlement, abuse, manipulation, anger, betrayal, and a host of other negative emotions and behaviors daily.

But as sunsets, courage, worship, joy, celebration, exhilaration, community, family, friends… LOVE… flashed across the screen, I was overwhelmed with the conviction that, as much as I would love to rid the world of hate and abuse and betrayal, to do so would, as the Giver tells Jonas, remove religion and faith and connection, home and family, and ultimately, free will. And without free will, we cannot choose love.

And more and more, I choose love.

After enjoying a fun evening of playing with my nephews and enjoying fellowship with my brother and sister-in-law, I opened my Facebook app to look up something we had been talking about.

The first three status updates were quotes of “Oh Captain, my Captain,” in various lengths. I immediately got
excited, because I thought Dead Poets’ Society was on tv.

I started to scroll further down, and I gasped so loudly that Joseph said, “Well, that can’t be good.”

The lives (and deaths) of celebrities don’t usually impact me much; I appreciate their talent and work but don’t hold much personal attachment to them.

Tonight, though, I was genuinely heartbroken to read of the death of Robin Williams. His body of work is interwoven through every facet of my life: I grew up with Mork on Nick at Night at my grandparents’ house; I was mesmerized by Hook; Aladdin made me want a singing Genie; Dead Poet’s Society made me believe that it was possible to teach with courage, passion, and complete abandon; my last Christmas Day movie date with my first love was to see Patch Adams; I laughed til I cried every week last season while watching The Crazy Ones with parents last season; nearly every unit of my worldview class contains some reference to one of his works, from Mrs. Doubtfire and The Birdcage to What Dreams May Come, because he chose roles that challenged traditional thinking, but did so in a thoughtful and tender way.

Yet with all the joy he brought to the lives of so many, there was always an intense sadness in his eyes that I could tell that he wanted to make people laugh so they wouldn’t experience the pain that he did. Some of the most tender, joy-giving, caring people are the most tortured souls who are simply trying to ensure no one else walks their path.

Those who struggle with depression are often the most empathetic among us, the most feeling and caring people on the planet, and their gift of feeling what others feel is also a curse, because often the weight is simply too much.

To be compassionate members of humanity, we must be cognizant of the pain of those around us, be willing to drop our own masks to reveal struggles so that others are empowered to do the same, and then walk alongside them to ensure we all receive the love, treatment (if needed), and support required to handle all that life throws our way.

To bear one another’s burdens can seem overwhelming at times, but to bear one’s burdens alone is truly unbearable.

Rest in Peace, Robin, with my humble thanks for the incredible gift you were to this world.

Hello All!

Just a quick post to let you know some exciting news!

Our research consent form and surveys have all received approval and we will begin conducting our research next week!

Please pray that our students will be excited and willing to participate in our research; they are ready for school to be finished (so are we!), but we need the opportunity to have them work with us to complete this section of our work quickly.

As I have conducted informal polls and discussions with my students this year concerning our research, I am more and more excited to see just what we are able to learn about how our students use social media and what the possible impact has been on their spiritual development and maturity.

The assumption has been made for so long that smart phones and tablets are mostly used for entertainment, gaming and social media, but as technology improves, these tools become more important for work, for study, and for community. We have the opportunity to gather solid data concerning community, discipleship, and just what role digital media play in spiritual formation.

It is an exciting time for us, so please keep Matt Dixon, Matt Vander Wiele and me in your prayers as we spend the next few months reading the data results and compiling our reports.

Here are a few dates for you to keep in mind and in your prayers in the coming months:

Parental Consent Forms: This week and next week. Please pray parents are willing to allow their students to participate and will be timely in returning the forms.

Student Surveys: April 21- May 5. Please pray that students will be open and transparent with us in their surveys so that we have the most accurate information possible.

Data Analysis and Writing: June-August.
Please pray we will collect and analyze the data we gather quickly, and that our results will be clear and productive for us to move forward with our writing.

September 15: The final drafts of our theses are due to the Doctoral Studies Office. Please pray they will be accepted so we can prepare for our defense hearings.

October 15-17: Thesis defense hearings, Louisville, KY. We will defend our research and results before a board of professors and experts in our field of study. Please pray for peace, wisdom, confidence in the work we have completed, and for approvals for us all!

Should everything go according to plan, we will graduate in December. What an incredible journey the last few years has been, and I am thankful for all of you who have been a part of it by praying, by sending notes of encouragement, and by donating financially to our research.

If you would like to donate, I am still in need of support to finish this work. I am a Timothy Scholarship recipient through The Generosity Trust, and you can make a tax deductible donation to this scholarship fund by check or online by marking your donation “TSF: Rebekah Mason.”

The Generosity Trust
736 Market Street, Ste. 1402
Chattanooga, TN 37402

Thanks again for all of your support, and I look forward to sharing more good news in the coming months!

1 So I exhort the elders among you, as a fellow elder and a witness of the sufferings of Christ, as well as a partaker in the glory that is going to be revealed:
2 shepherd the flock of God that is among you, exercising oversight,[fn] not under compulsion, but willingly, as God would have you;[fn] not for shameful gain, but eagerly;
3 not domineering over those in your charge, but being examples to the flock.
4 And when the chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the unfading crown of glory. 1 Peter 5

Today we celebrated my dad’s 20 years of ministry at Morris Hill Baptist Church. It has been a joyous, painful, fun, trying, loving and full 20 years. Before coming to Morris Hill, dad served at Meadowview Baptist for 11 years. Pastoral service is best seen in the long term; one life invested in the life of one congregation. To see how a man handles the good, the bad, the births, the deaths, the marriages, the divorces, the celebrations and the tragedies of people he has invested in for years is when you see the true character of a man.

When the average pastor moves congregations an average of every two to three years, the church doesn’t get to know him and he doesn’t really get to know them. In one career, my dad had served only two churches, and invested himself in them both with the intention of the investment being for life.

While a pastor may move congregations that often, and the people may never get to know the real man, the pastor’s family moves with him and they know him. The tragic story I hear over and over is that the man behind the pulpit is not the man behind closed doors at home.

And as soon as his kids are able, they are gone, at best to another church, at worst to find a way of life on their own, apart from the faith.

In my dad’s case, he has been an exception to both of these rules. He’s stayed. Ten times longer than the average pastor. And more than that, we’ve stayed. All four of us. All grown. All able to go somewhere else to worship.

But we haven’t. We stayed. We serve. We lived with my parents and saw them day in and day out. We grew up with them, saw them at their best and their worst. And we stay. The three oldest of us have all spent years living out of town or out of state, and in recent years, the Lord has brought us back to Chattanooga. We could have gone to other congregations. Spread our wings, gone our own way.

During one particularly difficult season of ministry, I so desperately wanted to leave, to run from the hurt and conflict. And Dad even gave me his blessing to leave, saying he would handle it if people questioned my reason for leaving.

That freedom to leave led me to stay, even when my flesh said, “Run!”

Pastor’s kids who walk away from the faith usually say they do so because of the inconsistencies seen between the man in the pulpit and the man at home.

In our case, the consistency of the man we’ve seen in the pulpit and at home kept us here, serving alongside him. When he has given his blessing for us to leave, when he has released us to know there is no expectation of our staying, we are even more encouraged to willingly stay.

Tonight, fellow ministers and friends shared stories of the faithfulness of my dad in his years of ministry. The greatest compliment I can give to him is to say thank you. Thank you for living a life that would make us want to stay. Thank you for being a true undershepherd who will one day hear the words, “Well done.”