Living in the Spirit

by Jessica Fields | Apr 17, 2024 | Life and Faith

Continuing in the Holy Spirit series, this past Sunday, Pastor David compared living in the natural vs. the Spirit to the 1999 film The Matrix. Both have a common thread—the journey from illusion to truth. In the film, humans are enslaved by a simulated reality, mirroring how many live entrapped by the fleeting desires and superficiality of the world, unaware of deeper eternal realities.

Living in the Spirit is not a passive state, but an active choice. It’s akin to Neo’s awakening in The Matrix, where he consciously decides to unplug from the false reality and embrace the Truth. Similarly, as Christians, we are called to make a choice. Will we continue to be ensnared by the illusions of the world, or will we surrender to the transformative power of the Spirit?

Romans 8:6 (CSB) speaks to this choice, stating, “The mindset of the flesh is death, but the mindset of the Spirit is life and peace.” Here, the contrast between the flesh and the Spirit echoes Neo’s choice between the comfortable illusion of the matrix and the true life of reality.

Yet many are captured by the busyness and distractions of life or their fleshly desires, keeping them bound to the natural rather than embracing the spiritual. These distractions blind us to the deeper realities of God.

To truly live in the Spirit, we must first recognize our identity as new creations in Christ. This realization should propel us to seek and embrace the comfort and guidance that comes from walking in the Spirit. It’s not a passive shift, but an intentional one that requires us to take deliberate steps towards spiritual growth and intimacy with God.

So how do we break free? One crucial aspect is engaging with Scripture not merely as a religious duty but as a means of encountering the Creator of the Universe. Reading and processing Scripture allows the Holy Spirit to speak and transform hearts. It’s about allowing the Word of God to penetrate deep within, leading to genuine change.

Prayer plays a vital role in this process. It’s not about presenting God with a to-do list but about engaging in meaningful conversation, sharing your thoughts, and inviting God to reveal His. Cultivating a relationship with God through prayer fosters intimacy and trust, opening the door for His transformative work.

Fellowship with God is essential. Worshiping Him not only expresses gratitude and adoration but also deepens our dependence on His constant presence. By actively leaning into God’s presence and acknowledging His sovereignty, believers align their hearts with His will, quieting the noise of lies berating us from an ever-attacking enemy.

Meditation on God and His truth is another powerful practice. It involves intentionally quieting the noise of life to focus on the realities of God. This includes reflecting on His promises, pondering His character, and allowing His truth to permeate every aspect of life.

Breaking free from the matrix of the world, its ways, and its distractions demands one’s complete self. It transcends mere compartmentalization, encompassing every aspect of our being and life. It entails actively engaging with Scripture, prayer, fellowship, worship, and meditation, allowing these practices to renew hearts and minds. By prioritizing intimacy with God and aligning with His Truth, believers discover the freedom and abundant life in living in the Spirit.

Did you miss this past Sunday’s message? Watch here…

Thanksgiving: The Risk and Reward

by Jessica Fields | Nov 15, 2023 | Life and Faith

It’s Thanksgiving season – a time that extends beyond just one day for me. Until the quiet moments of Thanksgiving Night, November constitutes the Thanksgiving season in my heart. While many adore the holiday for its delicious feasts, my affection for Thanksgiving runs deeper than the menu – although I can’t deny the joy that pecan pie brings me.

Thanksgiving, to me, is loaded with treasured memories. Marked by the annual pilgrimage (see what I did there) to my grandmother’s house, it’s filled with the warmth of extended family. I fondly reminisce about days spent with my aunt, uncle, and cousins and the delightful surprises of last-minute in-laws, friends, and cousins of cousins. Thanksgiving is when everyone across the country desires to be with others, wrapped in cozy sweaters.

Visiting my grandmother’s, a tradition in its own right, unfolded with its set of cherished customs. Raking leaves to create the perennial family picture backdrop destined for our upcoming Christmas Card. The dining room table, adorned with grandmother’s silver and fine china, became the stage for the big meal and laughter. Then, there were the rounds of vintage board games from my mother and uncle’s childhood.

As Thanksgiving night descended, we’d converge to witness the illumination of the Rich’s Macy’s Great Tree. And spread across the living room floor, the kids would circle every enticing item in the JC Penney’s catalog, meticulously crafting elaborate wishlists. These uniquely etched memories radiate warmth through my heart, and I hold them dear. When I reflect on these memories, what truly makes them special is the people I share them with.

It’s the image of my siblings and me, tirelessly raking what seemed like a football field of a front yard until a sympathetic neighbor straps a ginormous leaf blower to my brother’s back. It’s my grandmother, following alongside me, patiently instructing me on the proper placement of each spoon, knife, and fork. It’s my uncle imparting the strategic importance of Australia’s global positioning in winning at Risk or my sister managing the Monopoly bank on the ‘honor’ system for a 7-year-old with questionable math skills.

It’s the shared laughter while flipping through the Penny’s catalog on my aunt’s lap, her gently steering my choices toward more cost-effective selections. At the same time, my mother frantically alerts us to pay attention the moment they start to sing “O, Holy Night” to light the tree. Stripping away all the activities, I am most grateful for the memories of these people. They are the heart and soul of my Thanksgiving memories.

As I age (I know some of you may roll your eyes; I’m not that old…), I am increasingly aware of the tremendous blessing and purpose God has given us in people and our community. The first time God ever declared something “not good” in the world He created was when He saw that man was alone (Genesis 2:18). Before sin and iniquity were ever a thing, there was a fundamental deficiency — the absence of community.

Is community always perfect? By no means! Community comes with risks because it exposes us to people. And, well, people are far from perfect. Community, in many ways, demands vulnerability. There is always the possibility of being let down or disappointed. The reality is that community will inevitably bring moments of hurt, just as we may sometimes hurt those in our community. But at the same time, there is always the possibility that the community will heal us, and we, in turn, can be a part of the healing.

In this Thanksgiving season, as we come together in diverse ways and with different communities, let’s reflect on the risks inherent in our gatherings. By showing up, we expose ourselves to potential hurt and heartache, but we also open the door to healing and joy. Life feels more challenging these days, and our culture has evolved in unfamiliar ways. Too often, people prioritize outrage and offense over patience and forgiveness, sacrificing generosity, hospitality, and kindness on the altar of opinions and righteousness.

Yet, when we gather, we must recognize that showing up is an act of generosity, a courageous step into vulnerability. It’s not taken lightly; there’s a genuine risk involved. However, in embracing this risk, we engage in a profound venture — the possibility of gaining one another. This act of showing up is a gift, and for that, I am grateful.

So, this Thanksgiving, my gratitude extends to those who still choose to show up. To those who, despite the potential for harm, lean into community. For every individual who gathers at the table, acknowledging the personal risk involved, yet still making that choice. I am thankful for those who risk showing up for me, recognizing that I have the capacity to misuse and abuse the gift of their presence, and yet they remain. My heart is full of gratitude for the second chances given by those who reject offense and opt for forgiveness. I thank God for those who embody grace and compassion and come together in community, for it is true, “it is not good for man to be alone.”

Missed this past Sunday’s message? Watch Here…

All Saints Day

by Jessica Fields | Nov 1, 2023 | Life and Faith

You might start your day with a Reese’s cup at breakfast, have a Snickers at lunch, enjoy some Peanut M&Ms to combat the afternoon slump, and finish with a couple of Sour Patch Kids after dinner. This day, and perhaps this week, you might indulge in more “treats” than usual. Whether it’s due to the parental “candy tax” or the lure of grocery store sales, it’s important to remember the significance of today.

November 1st is All Saints Day, also known as All Hallows’ Day. Traditionally, on this day, believers honor and remember all the saints, both the well-known and unsung heroes, who have lived lives of unwavering faith and embodied God’s love and grace. It’s a day to celebrate the unity among followers of Jesus and to reflect on the lives of those who’ve come before us, leaving a legacy of faith, hope, and love.

As you indulge in a Whopper or two, take a moment to think of those who dedicated their lives to spreading the Gospel to unreached nations and peoples worldwide. People like William Carey, the Father of Modern Missions, who proclaimed the Gospel in India and worked on translating the Bible into Bengali. Or Adoniram and Ann Judson, the first American missionaries to serve overseas in Burma, leading thousands to Christ. And Lottie Moon, who served as a single woman in China and raised awareness about global mission efforts in America.

But don’t forget those whose lives played a pivotal role in your own faith journey, even if they seem less “adventurous”. I think of Ms. Billie, the kind old lady at my childhood church whose faithful attendance and never-ending supply of candy from her purse provided a sense of steadfast kindness that I came to associate with the people of God. I recall Mrs. Turner, my 5th-grade assistant teacher, who showed me the patience and love of Jesus, even during my rebellious moments, and encouraged my faith from a young age. And I happily remember my sweet Grandmother, the matriarch of our family, who instilled faith in her children and left a legacy of a family devoted to Jesus in their homes, churches, and communities.

This week, as you enjoy your candy and take advantage of sales, take a moment to reflect on those who’ve come before you. Just as each candy has its unique style and flavor, so do the beloved saints who have their unique stories and legacies. They remind us of the sweetness of faith, the richness of hope, and the enduring love of God. Amid the candy wrappers, remember the lives and teachings of those who have left earthly life and a legacy that continues to inspire and motivate us to love God more. May we find moments to savor and reflect in gratitude and celebration on this All Saints Day, and may we be encouraged to live in a way that leaves a legacy for others to love Jesus.

The Best Resolution I Accidently Made

by Jessica Fields | Aug 23, 2023 | Life and Faith

“You have been taught the holy Scriptures from childhood, and they have given you the wisdom to receive the salvation that comes by trusting in Christ Jesus.” 2 Timothy 3:15

It was the first Sunday of the year. I had just turned 12 a few weeks earlier. I remember because I wasn’t yet allowed to sit with my big sister in the unofficial “youth section” during big church. It wasn’t a set rule; it was just something you didn’t do. Instead, I sat with Mrs. McNealy, the lady my mom asked to watch me since she was in the choir. Sitting with Mrs. McNealy was a happy consolation prize, as she’d scratch my back and give me candy during service. But this New Year’s Sunday stands out, as it was the day my words got me into His.

On this day, at the start of the message, the pastor descended the six pale blue carpeted stairs, asking people to share their New Year’s resolutions. Now, you have to understand about a thousand people were in that congregation. But did I care? Apparently not. My hand shot up before I had a second to realize just how many eyes were in the room.

Truth be told, I had no clue what a resolution was, much less did I have one. I mean, come on, I was 12. But you know what I wanted? To talk into that microphone. After a few people went, I concluded a resolution was a lofty goal you told people to impress them. So, I kept waving my hand like I was auditioning for a talk show. And then it happened; the pastor started heading my way.

What began as a dream of being a kid rockstar on that mic turned into instant panic. I was supposed to say something smart, right? And I’m at church, so it needs to be Jesus-y, yea? As he approached, I sensed my sister, over in the cool youth group island, shrinking back with embarrassment, while my mom, sitting in the choir loft, had this “what on earth is my child doing” look on her face.

As the pastor handed me the mic, the weight of it sunk into my tiny hands so quickly that I almost dropped it. Just then, Mrs. McNealy swooped in and held it up for me. Maybe it was that touch of confidence, my messed up need to impress, or perhaps the Holy Spirit (I think a combination of all three). But suddenly, I heard myself declare to all of Tabernacle Baptist Church that I would read through the whole Bible in a year.

Suddenly, the room filled with nods of approval and smiles of admiration at this little whipper-snappers’ most holy proclamation. Take that, cool youth kids! Crowd surfing the wave of self-aggrandizement, I caught the look on my sister’s and mom’s faces – absolute confusion and disbelief. They were both keenly aware of the reality I had detached from; I HATED reading with a passion. And here I was, literally in front of God and everyone, declaring I would read the Bible in a year!?!

It didn’t take long for the high of being a super-pious good little Christian girl to come crashing down. It’s one thing to boast about wanting to do “godly” things. It’s another thing for God to show up and hold you accountable. Later that evening, before bed, I had an encounter with the Lord. God showed up with something to say. It wasn’t a literal voice or vision. But with a firm conviction, I knew I wouldn’t get away with using God’s Word as a cheap snack to feed my ego. At that moment, I knew I had to keep my word and begin to read His.

I searched the house and stumbled across a Bible with a “Read the Bible in a Year” plan in the front. Turning to page one, I began to read, “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth…” and then I kept reading. Did I understand half of it? Heck no. I was 12. But motivated by the fear of the Lord and personal conviction, I was determined to keep my word concerning His. And you know what, after I read and read some more. And after I asked my mom a few awkward questions, like, “What is circumcision?” a few things started to make sense.

I’ll be honest. I didn’t finish reading the entire thing in a year; it took me a little longer. But by sticking with it, I did finish the following year. And when I did, I flipped back and started again, “In the beginning, God created…” And this time, you know what? I understood more than I did the first time. Some questions from before now had answers. But I also found I had new ones. And things that were once strange didn’t seem as confusing this time, except for circumcision. That’s always been weird.

But I stayed with it, and in doing so, I fell in love. With the story, the characters, but most of all, with the Author. God was showing up in those pages, and Jesus revealed Himself in ways I’d never imagined. And since then, every time I reach the last verse in Revelation, “Come, Lord Jesus. The grace of the Lord Jesus be with God’s people. Amen,” I flip back to page one and start again, “In the beginning…”

On that winter Sunday in ’97, did I have any clue I’d one day be called pastor? Could I have foreseen thousands of pages of reading laid ahead in receiving a master’s from seminary with a concentration in Biblical Studies? Could I’ve imagined my greatest joy would be nights spent reading the Bible with other believers, teaching His Word at conferences, or discussing the Scriptures with teenagers and adults? Heck no. But God did. And it has been the best New Year’s resolution I have ever accidentally made.