Virtue: Courage
Resolution: I choose to live boldly with a spirit of power, love, and a sound mind, in spite of fear.

Human Story: Carolyn Dirksen

Hot, dry, Bisbee, Arizona was hardly fertile ground for the dreams of 12-year-old Carolyn. She wanted to go to college but would be the first in her family to do so. Her widowed mother worked a minimum wage job to support Carolyn, her sisters, and their grandmother, who often warned Carolyn to suppress her college dreams. Since none of them knew about grants and scholarships, it was the kind of dream that caused more sadness than hope, especially for Carolyn’s mother, who had no idea how to make it a reality. It took courage for Carolyn to believe that this dream might have been laid on her heart by her Creator. She persisted, and her mother told her they would pray.

Their church looked a bit like Carolyn’s family—poor, mostly women, and untrusting of academia —but they knew love and prayer. These women, whom she calls her “spiritual mothers,” gathered around Carolyn and her mother. A prophetic word was spoken; Carolyn would go to college. Her dream became a calling, and that calling gave her courage to face the obstacles ahead. She soon encountered brothers and sisters in Christ who saw her call to higher education as sinful or misguided. But she persisted and became the first female faculty member of her college to be awarded a sabbatical. Carolyn used it to pursue her PhD. She faced criticism, direct and latent, for seeking a doctorate when her husband, who “had a good job,” didn’t even have one. She was villainized for pursuing career and “her own wishes.” Yet, she had a calling and so she had courage.

Pursuing her calling had its costs. Even now she tears up as she recalls words spoken to and about her that ranged from unkind to untrue. Her voice cracks as she reflects, “I had to go underground about the things I was doing, which made me trust less. I think I missed out on ‘community.’”

Of late, she has been more vocal in her advocacy for the voiceless and the marginalized. “The time for subtlety is over;” she explains “my days of staying under the radar are past.” Which means she became a target of rude criticism, this time on social media. Carolyn responded with overwhelming grace and dignity. True bravery in this situation, she believes, includes a real honesty with yourself and with God. “When being attacked, you must be certain to look for any truth in the criticism before you respond.”

Dr. Carolyn Dirksen has now retired from a 50-year career in which she was central in transforming Lee College of Cleveland, TN from a small bible college into a thriving Christian liberal arts university. Her impact on the thousands of students she has inspired and taught is hard to overstate. She points to Ephesians 2:10 as a guiding verse that has given her courage. She recalls, “We were meant to build something here for God’s Kingdom. Who could stand against us?”

Lesson: Ephesians 2:10 (NIV)

For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

Ephesians was written by Paul to a church of non-Hebrew believers. The first two chapters make the argument that Jews and Gentiles are equal members of the family of God. Paul is uniquely positioned to make such a claim. When he speaks to the Ephesians as equal citizens in the Kingdom of God, He does so with the authority of a respected believer and scholar of the Hebrew people.

Imagine how meaningful it would be for a natural born son of a family going to an adopted sibling and saying “You are just as much a member of this family as I am.” Paul’s implication is made clear by his repeated use of plural first-person pronouns like “we” and “us” (e.g. 2:4-5). Our membership in the Family of God has nothing to do with our actions, our family heritage or our earthly citizenship. And believing this takes courage.

We long for love and value that is based on our accomplishments. We would love to believe that we have somehow done something to impress our significant other, friend, or boss who looked over a large field of applicants and pulled us out of the pile saying “Yes!” We have been raised in a meritocracy where rising to the top is seen as an indication of value and significance. Yet, Ephesians 2:10 reminds us that our value is that we are made by God. “For we are God’s handiwork...” We’d love to believe we could somehow earn God’s love by impressing Him. Consider this conversation between a painter and God:

ME: What do you think of the painting?
GOD: I love you.
ME: That’s nice, but what do you think of the painting?
GOD: (smiles) I love you.
ME: Yes, but do you see what I did over here, with the shading and the color?
GOD: I love you.
ME: You’re not listening...

Can you imagine what we could possibly “paint on our canvas” that would be more impressive than the work of art that He has done by creating us? It takes courage to surrender our desire to impress, to find our identity in Christ instead of our accomplishments. Our works are not a means to earn God’s love, but rather a gift He’s laid out for us because He loves us. May we have the courage to release our dependence on conditional love and remember that we are “created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”

Remembrance

An excerpt from C.S. Lewis's The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
     Drinian’s hand shook on the tiller and a line of cold sweat ran down his face. The same idea was occurring to everyone on board. “We shall never get out, never get out,” moaned the rowers. “He’s steering us wrong. We’re going round and round in circles. We shall never get out.” The stranger, who had been lying in a huddled heap on the deck, sat up and burst out into a horrible screaming laugh.
     “Never get out!” he yelled. “That’s it. Of course. We shall never get out. What a fool I was to have thought they would let me go as easily as that. No, no, we shall never get out.”
     Lucy leant her head on the edge of the fighting top and whispered, “Aslan, Aslan, if ever you loved us at all, send us help now.” The darkness did not grow any less, but she began to feel a little—a very, very little—better. “After all, nothing has really happened to us yet,” she thought.
     “Look!” cried Rynelf’s voice hoarsely from the bows. There was a tiny speck of light ahead, and while they watched a broad beam of light fell from it upon the ship. It did not alter the surrounding darkness, but the whole ship was lit up as if by searchlight. Caspian blinked, stared round, saw the faces of his companions all with wild, fixed expressions. Everyone was staring in the same direction: behind everyone lay his black, sharply- edged shadow.
     Lucy looked along the beam and presently saw something in it. At first it looked like a cross, then it looked like an aeroplane, then it looked like a kite, and at last with a whirring of wings it was right overhead and was an albatross. It circled three times round the mast and then perched for an instant on the crest of the gilded dragon at the prow. It called out in a strong sweet voice what seemed to be words though no one understood them. After that it spread its wings, rose, and began to fly slowly ahead, bearing a little to starboard. Drinian steered after it not doubting that it offered good guidance. But no one except Lucy knew that as it circled the mast it had whispered to her, “Courage, dear heart,” and the voice, she felt sure, was Aslan’s, and with the voice a delicious smell breathed in her face.
     In a few moments the darkness turned into a greyness ahead, and then, almost before they dared to begin hoping, they had shot out into the sunlight and were in the warm, blue world again. And all at once everybody realized that there was nothing to be afraid of and never had been. They blinked their eyes and looked about them. The brightness of the ship herself astonished them: they had half expected to find that the darkness would cling to the white and the green and the gold in the form of some grime or scum. And then first one, and then another, began laughing.

Challenge

Fasting is an ancient Christian tradition – one that is central to the season of Lent. It seems to have lost a lot of its significance in the midst of today's "Have it your way" society. In an effort to recover this practice, give something up this week (or month, or for the season of Lent) that has become an idol for you. Don't just give it up but replace it with something that particularly helps you draw nearer to God's heart and purpose in your life.

Reflection

Do you relate to the conversation between the painter and God from the lesson? Do find yourself eager to impress God, or are you able to rest in the peace that He simply loves you? Let us be reminded, “Our works are not a means to earn God’s love, but rather a gift He’s laid out for us because He loves us.”

Further Growth

2023 - 3rd Sunday in Lent

Old Testament: Exodus 17:1-7
Psalm: Psalm 95
New Testament: Romans 1:16-32
Gospel: John 4:5-42

2022 - 2nd Sunday in Lent

Old Testament: Genesis 15:1-18
Psalm: Psalm 27
New Testament: Philippians 3:17 — 4:1
Gospel: Luke 13:22-35

2021 - 4th Sunday in Lent

Old Testament: 2 Chronicles 36:14-23
Psalm: Psalm 122
New Testament: Ephesians 2:1-10
Gospel: John 6:1-15

2020 - 2nd Sunday in Lent

Old Testament: Genesis 12:1-9
Psalm: Psalm 33:12-21
New Testament: Romans 4:1-17
Gospel: John 3:1-16