That's what God is doing here...breaking in to a world which he created, but which hastens to deny his existence (let alone his power and sovereignty). So like a thief in the night, God comes among us as one of us...poor, humble, and yet so replete with the dignity intended for humankind that even death cannot overpower him.
More: we who are formed in his image are enabled to share his redeeming purpose because of this incarnation. Like Mary, we get to smuggle God into the world in our bodies...enfleshing the Creator's vision for the cosmos by our mortal words and deeds.
What greater gift could there be? An ancient collect puts it this way: "Almighty God, you wonderfully created the dignity of human nature, and yet more wonderfully restored it. In your mercy, let us share the divine life of the One who came to share our humanity..."
How strange! This thief comes not to take, but to give...not to destroy but to redeem...not to vandalize, but to scandalize the world with the great good news that life has been made whole and fresh again.
May our Christmas celebrations greet this thief with joy. And may our joy overflow into the world in purpose and hope. Blessed Christmas, indeed!
24 December 2008
15 December 2008
Throwing shoes...
KABUL, Afghanistan (AP) - President George W. Bush wrapped up a whirlwind trip to two war zones Monday that in many ways was a victory lap without a clear victory. A signature event occurred when an Iraqi reporter hurled two shoes at Bush, an incident the president called "a bizarre moment."
OK...I get that, on one level at least, this is just funny...at least to American sensibilities. But for Middle-Easterners, it is a deep insult. Remember the pictures of all the Iraqis beating the toppled statue of Saddam shortly after American troops took Baghdad? They certainly weren't expressing their love or simply trying to knock the sand out from between the treads.
Let me suggest, as well, that the shoe-thrower is perfectly free to express himself whether I happen to appreciate it or not. What really bothers me about this is the smirking, giggling, "boy, he got what was comin' to him" reaction I've heard from so many Americans...especially those who consider themselves Christian.
An insult...in any language or culture...is, by definition, an attack on basic human dignity. It is meant to reduce your opponent to the status of non-person...someone we might permissibly abuse or even kill. Of course, it is perfectly acceptable to disagree with one another. But it seems antithetical to our faith to debase one another...or to accept/permit/enjoy such behavior from others. And while I would make no claims of moral equivalence, it's certainly not too long a distance from hurling shoes to hurling hand grenades.
I'm sorry Bush's attacker felt that there was no other way to express his outrage. But this incident deserves a more mature response than a snicker. To do so denigrates both the "thrower" and President Bush, and only prolongs our inability to deal with each other as fellow human beings and children of the same heavenly Father. I'm guessing that there are more constructive ways of engaging one another...one that does not involve tossing either articles of clothing or weapons of mass destruction.
OK...I get that, on one level at least, this is just funny...at least to American sensibilities. But for Middle-Easterners, it is a deep insult. Remember the pictures of all the Iraqis beating the toppled statue of Saddam shortly after American troops took Baghdad? They certainly weren't expressing their love or simply trying to knock the sand out from between the treads.
Let me suggest, as well, that the shoe-thrower is perfectly free to express himself whether I happen to appreciate it or not. What really bothers me about this is the smirking, giggling, "boy, he got what was comin' to him" reaction I've heard from so many Americans...especially those who consider themselves Christian.
An insult...in any language or culture...is, by definition, an attack on basic human dignity. It is meant to reduce your opponent to the status of non-person...someone we might permissibly abuse or even kill. Of course, it is perfectly acceptable to disagree with one another. But it seems antithetical to our faith to debase one another...or to accept/permit/enjoy such behavior from others. And while I would make no claims of moral equivalence, it's certainly not too long a distance from hurling shoes to hurling hand grenades.
I'm sorry Bush's attacker felt that there was no other way to express his outrage. But this incident deserves a more mature response than a snicker. To do so denigrates both the "thrower" and President Bush, and only prolongs our inability to deal with each other as fellow human beings and children of the same heavenly Father. I'm guessing that there are more constructive ways of engaging one another...one that does not involve tossing either articles of clothing or weapons of mass destruction.
24 November 2008
Tailgating for Jesus...
This past Saturday, I attended the annual football clash between the Ohio State Buckeyes and the Michigan Wolverines. In the interest of full disclosure: I am an ardent Buckeye fan, and thoroughly enjoyed the butt-kicking our guys handed to the boys from that state up north. Oh, what fun.
On a more theological note, however: I was struck by the religious nature of the experience...not because of the frequent invocation of the name of Jesus by the guy two rows behind me (who apparently knows more about refereeing a football game than the officials on the field)...but because of several other very familiar factors. There was form...a liturgy, if you will. And it was so well rehearsed that we knew instinctively what to do. When the OSUMB drum line comes down the ramp, you stand up and scream. When the bell tolls for an opponent's third down, you stand up and scream. When Beanie Wells breaks through the line and runs for a 50 yard touchdown, you stand up and scream. (I said it was form; I didn't say it was elegant.)
Likewise, there was devotion to a shared, precious value...in this case, pounding the snot out of your neighbor. There was celebration and thanksgiving...a kind of hot-dog-and-Budweiser eucharist which began for some of the most ardent about Wednesday prior to the game and is probably just now getting finished. And lots of folks gladly pay the price to be a part of a mission so wonderful...from $8 for a program to $150 for a ticket to the groggy realization that eight beers is too many.
It was a great time. I yelled and cheered and hooted with all the rest of the worshipers. No...I didn't have eight beers.
Today, back in the serenity of my study, I'm wondering how we in the Church can capture even a bit of that enthusiasm for our own cause. $8 for a bulletin doesn't seem quite right...nor are we likely to replace the coffee maker with a beer tap. But it occurs to me that we're not as joyful as we could be when we consider the magnitude of what Christ has done for us...and what Christ has promised to do through us.
As Christians we are called to celebrate the greatest victory the cosmos has ever seen....the triumph over sin, death and the devil which is dared on Calvary's cross and vindicated by an empty tomb. More: we who are sinful, broken and absolutely incapable of saving our sorry selves have been made new and whole in the process. And it's all a gift...grace magnificent and unimaginable. At times, we may well stand speechless and in awe. But, dear friends, this is also an occasion to dance and sing and celebrate. Evil is caught in third and long. The bell is tolling. Maybe it's time for us to stand up and yell.
By the way...good tailgating spots are still available on the lawn near the main doors here at Grace. First come, first serve on those. See you Sunday...early.
On a more theological note, however: I was struck by the religious nature of the experience...not because of the frequent invocation of the name of Jesus by the guy two rows behind me (who apparently knows more about refereeing a football game than the officials on the field)...but because of several other very familiar factors. There was form...a liturgy, if you will. And it was so well rehearsed that we knew instinctively what to do. When the OSUMB drum line comes down the ramp, you stand up and scream. When the bell tolls for an opponent's third down, you stand up and scream. When Beanie Wells breaks through the line and runs for a 50 yard touchdown, you stand up and scream. (I said it was form; I didn't say it was elegant.)
Likewise, there was devotion to a shared, precious value...in this case, pounding the snot out of your neighbor. There was celebration and thanksgiving...a kind of hot-dog-and-Budweiser eucharist which began for some of the most ardent about Wednesday prior to the game and is probably just now getting finished. And lots of folks gladly pay the price to be a part of a mission so wonderful...from $8 for a program to $150 for a ticket to the groggy realization that eight beers is too many.
It was a great time. I yelled and cheered and hooted with all the rest of the worshipers. No...I didn't have eight beers.
Today, back in the serenity of my study, I'm wondering how we in the Church can capture even a bit of that enthusiasm for our own cause. $8 for a bulletin doesn't seem quite right...nor are we likely to replace the coffee maker with a beer tap. But it occurs to me that we're not as joyful as we could be when we consider the magnitude of what Christ has done for us...and what Christ has promised to do through us.
As Christians we are called to celebrate the greatest victory the cosmos has ever seen....the triumph over sin, death and the devil which is dared on Calvary's cross and vindicated by an empty tomb. More: we who are sinful, broken and absolutely incapable of saving our sorry selves have been made new and whole in the process. And it's all a gift...grace magnificent and unimaginable. At times, we may well stand speechless and in awe. But, dear friends, this is also an occasion to dance and sing and celebrate. Evil is caught in third and long. The bell is tolling. Maybe it's time for us to stand up and yell.
By the way...good tailgating spots are still available on the lawn near the main doors here at Grace. First come, first serve on those. See you Sunday...early.
A glimpse of heaven...
I've always imagined that it might, in some ways, be like this. Heaven, that is. You meet friends from whom you've been separated for a long time, and it becomes immediately apparent that the love which existed between you has never waned. The conversation resumes where it left off...even years before. You find yourself smiling a lot. And you know that, in some way, you are at home.
On October 19, we returned to our home parish, Bethlehem Lutheran Church in Fairport, New York. The occasion was the retirement of the Rev. Dr. Kent H. Garner who had served faithfully and well in that place for 31 years, including those years in the late 80's when Bethlehem took in our family and then sent us off to seminary.
We weren't so sure going in what to expect. Not that the congregation's hospitality was ever in doubt. But would we remember them? Would they remember us? How polite and formal and stiff might this occasion be, given the years that had passed? So to aid our uncertainty and allay our anxieties we studied an old picture directory...a bit like freshmen cramming for that first big test.
Turns out it wasn't necessary. Although the place is well-stocked with newer members, familiar faces and open arms greeted us the moment we arrived...and remained with us in conversation, laughter, and good memories until hours after we had expected to depart. And it's not as though we had never left. The years were evident enough in graying hair, paunchy bellies and grown-up children. But as it turns out: that which made us one at a time more than twenty years ago still makes us one today.
How wonderful and awesome is the truth that love never ends. It makes me less fearful of dying to think that those from whom we are separated are never completely separated from us. We merely wait until that bright morning when the party can take up where it left off...when the laughter can begin again...and when all that we mean to one another will be made as undeniably real as the precious warmth of an old friend's kiss or an abundant banquet shared around a large and loving table crammed with new friends and old. A foretaste indeed of the feast to come...ours already by grace.
Thank you, Bethlehem, for your love. Thank you, Pr. Garner, for your ministry. And thanks be to God for the celebration that never ends.
On October 19, we returned to our home parish, Bethlehem Lutheran Church in Fairport, New York. The occasion was the retirement of the Rev. Dr. Kent H. Garner who had served faithfully and well in that place for 31 years, including those years in the late 80's when Bethlehem took in our family and then sent us off to seminary.
We weren't so sure going in what to expect. Not that the congregation's hospitality was ever in doubt. But would we remember them? Would they remember us? How polite and formal and stiff might this occasion be, given the years that had passed? So to aid our uncertainty and allay our anxieties we studied an old picture directory...a bit like freshmen cramming for that first big test.
Turns out it wasn't necessary. Although the place is well-stocked with newer members, familiar faces and open arms greeted us the moment we arrived...and remained with us in conversation, laughter, and good memories until hours after we had expected to depart. And it's not as though we had never left. The years were evident enough in graying hair, paunchy bellies and grown-up children. But as it turns out: that which made us one at a time more than twenty years ago still makes us one today.
How wonderful and awesome is the truth that love never ends. It makes me less fearful of dying to think that those from whom we are separated are never completely separated from us. We merely wait until that bright morning when the party can take up where it left off...when the laughter can begin again...and when all that we mean to one another will be made as undeniably real as the precious warmth of an old friend's kiss or an abundant banquet shared around a large and loving table crammed with new friends and old. A foretaste indeed of the feast to come...ours already by grace.
Thank you, Bethlehem, for your love. Thank you, Pr. Garner, for your ministry. And thanks be to God for the celebration that never ends.
The reason why...
The mom of one of our fifth graders dropped off a recent spelling list that her youngster had brought home from school. Apparently, the thing to do these days is to have thematic lists...and the theme for this particular list was the "Hero." Twenty words...twenty characteristics that could be ascribed to heroes.
It's hard to argue with a list like this one: courage, compassion, integrity, initiative, perseverance, flexibility, responsibility, honesty, respectfulness, citizenship, trustworthiness, effort, fairness, patience, sense of humor, friendship, kindness, optimistic, patriotic, enthusiastic. (Sorry to say, I misspelled two of these words just typing the list. So much for being smarter than a fifth grader.)
As commendable as these attributes may be, however, simply possessing them doesn't make us good or right. The question needs to be asked: In whose service do we exhibit these behaviors? For what reason might we aspire to these things? Is it possible to have courage and initiative, to be flexible and optimistic and enthusiastic for the wrong reasons?
Of course it is…which is what makes it so important to be aware of why it is that we want to be or to do any particular thing in our lives. It's good to be responsible and to put forth our best efforts. But if we're not doing it for the right reason...in pursuit of the right goals...it's still wrong. The bottom line? Motivation matters.
And motivation...the reason why...is a matter of faith. Christians trust that God is the creating, redeeming and sustaining source of the cosmos. We believe that the designs and purposes of this God have been preeminently revealed in Jesus the Christ. And we confess that we are called to partnership with this God in the reconciliation and restoration of the world after the manner of that same Jesus Christ.
So it is that Christ becomes our motivation...our "reason why"...our objective. And in pursuit of that objective we will strive to be as heroic as we can possibly be, acknowledging that our response to God's call is never perfect...and rejoicing in the grace and mercy of God which redeems even our most un-heroic moments.
Be a hero? Sure. Who wouldn't want to have a life so characterized? But being a hero for all the right reasons...in partnership with Christ himself...is an even more noble aspiration.
It's hard to argue with a list like this one: courage, compassion, integrity, initiative, perseverance, flexibility, responsibility, honesty, respectfulness, citizenship, trustworthiness, effort, fairness, patience, sense of humor, friendship, kindness, optimistic, patriotic, enthusiastic. (Sorry to say, I misspelled two of these words just typing the list. So much for being smarter than a fifth grader.)
As commendable as these attributes may be, however, simply possessing them doesn't make us good or right. The question needs to be asked: In whose service do we exhibit these behaviors? For what reason might we aspire to these things? Is it possible to have courage and initiative, to be flexible and optimistic and enthusiastic for the wrong reasons?
Of course it is…which is what makes it so important to be aware of why it is that we want to be or to do any particular thing in our lives. It's good to be responsible and to put forth our best efforts. But if we're not doing it for the right reason...in pursuit of the right goals...it's still wrong. The bottom line? Motivation matters.
And motivation...the reason why...is a matter of faith. Christians trust that God is the creating, redeeming and sustaining source of the cosmos. We believe that the designs and purposes of this God have been preeminently revealed in Jesus the Christ. And we confess that we are called to partnership with this God in the reconciliation and restoration of the world after the manner of that same Jesus Christ.
So it is that Christ becomes our motivation...our "reason why"...our objective. And in pursuit of that objective we will strive to be as heroic as we can possibly be, acknowledging that our response to God's call is never perfect...and rejoicing in the grace and mercy of God which redeems even our most un-heroic moments.
Be a hero? Sure. Who wouldn't want to have a life so characterized? But being a hero for all the right reasons...in partnership with Christ himself...is an even more noble aspiration.
01 October 2008
Dancing in the endzone...
I love football. High school, college, or professional...doesn't matter to me. Just turn on the game and let's watch. Speedy, powerful runners...acrobatic wide receivers, smart quarterbacks, hard-hitting defense. What's not to like about a game that combines committee meetings and violence?
Well...maybe one thing. As much as I love the game, I despise the end zone dancing and the exaggerated post-play chest-thumping. Maybe it has something to do with being Lutheran. (Garrison Keillor says that Lutherans are pretty hesitant about calling attention to themselves. That's why we make better choir members than soloists.)
Actually, I think it's a bigger issue than denominational modesty. Our desire to celebrate ourselves and our (sometimes dubious) accomplishments stands at odds with one of the central tenets of our Christian faith...humility.
"Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus," Paul says, "who, though he was in the form of God did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited. Rather, he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death...even death on a cross." (Philippians 2:5-8)
If anyone would have the right to dance in the end zone, it would be Jesus. Triple teamed by sin, death and the devil, he outruns them all and scores new life, new hope and new opportunity for each one of us. But note how he does it: not by violence or overwhelming force or some spectacular display of divine power...but by humility, by obedience to the call of God, and by trust that God's got the situation in hand even when that's not readily apparent.
The church (as well as inidividual Christians) would do well to take notice. In an age that rewards big numbers, dramatic displays and personal accomplishment, it's easy for us to fall into the trap of assuming that we're out there doing all the heavy lifting. Well...here's a news flash: Christians don't save sinners. God in Christ Jesus saves sinners. Christians aren't responsible for changes of heart and conversions to the faith. That's the work of the Holy Spirit. Christians can't legislate a new moral order for the world where we end up in charge unless, like Jesus, we're willing to reign from a cross. And I don't see many of our political, business and social leaders lining up to look good on wood. Yes...God can and does work through our human activity. But it is always God at work. And that leaves us precious little room for boasting, bragging and spiking the ball.
Faithful. Obedient. Humble. Tough words in the game of life and not a particularly popular strategy in this day and age. But it's the best way to describe how we are to play that game. After all, it worked for Jesus; it's right for us, too. Let the glory be given to the one who deserves it...the God who creates, sustains and nourishes us all.
Well...maybe one thing. As much as I love the game, I despise the end zone dancing and the exaggerated post-play chest-thumping. Maybe it has something to do with being Lutheran. (Garrison Keillor says that Lutherans are pretty hesitant about calling attention to themselves. That's why we make better choir members than soloists.)
Actually, I think it's a bigger issue than denominational modesty. Our desire to celebrate ourselves and our (sometimes dubious) accomplishments stands at odds with one of the central tenets of our Christian faith...humility.
"Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus," Paul says, "who, though he was in the form of God did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited. Rather, he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death...even death on a cross." (Philippians 2:5-8)
If anyone would have the right to dance in the end zone, it would be Jesus. Triple teamed by sin, death and the devil, he outruns them all and scores new life, new hope and new opportunity for each one of us. But note how he does it: not by violence or overwhelming force or some spectacular display of divine power...but by humility, by obedience to the call of God, and by trust that God's got the situation in hand even when that's not readily apparent.
The church (as well as inidividual Christians) would do well to take notice. In an age that rewards big numbers, dramatic displays and personal accomplishment, it's easy for us to fall into the trap of assuming that we're out there doing all the heavy lifting. Well...here's a news flash: Christians don't save sinners. God in Christ Jesus saves sinners. Christians aren't responsible for changes of heart and conversions to the faith. That's the work of the Holy Spirit. Christians can't legislate a new moral order for the world where we end up in charge unless, like Jesus, we're willing to reign from a cross. And I don't see many of our political, business and social leaders lining up to look good on wood. Yes...God can and does work through our human activity. But it is always God at work. And that leaves us precious little room for boasting, bragging and spiking the ball.
Faithful. Obedient. Humble. Tough words in the game of life and not a particularly popular strategy in this day and age. But it's the best way to describe how we are to play that game. After all, it worked for Jesus; it's right for us, too. Let the glory be given to the one who deserves it...the God who creates, sustains and nourishes us all.
12 August 2008
Tear up the rug...
We're hearing the pitter-patter of little feet in our house! Not human feet, mind you, but the the puppy belonging to elder son and daughter-in-law who are vacationing for a couple weeks. And not really little feet, either. Winni, the wonder mutt, is already bigger than any of our previous pooches...and she's only six months old.
She is a sweet dog...loves to run and play (like all puppies do). Full of the warmth and exuberance and loyalty that are core reasons for having dogs in the first place. Even after having to clean up a few "accidents," we're still going to enjoy the days ahead.
We're also going to have to go shopping.
Yesterday...all that exuberance was unleashed on an innocent bath rug left within tooth-and-claw range while we were gone for a while. It was meant to be something soft and cuddly for the pup to sleep on in her kennel. But upon returning home, we found a mound of shredded blue nylon and, after speaking her name with some gravity, one guilty-looking pooch.
So much for comfort.
Question of the day: have you ever destroyed something that was meant for your pleasure, your enjoyment? Have you ever taken a gift, given to you in love or out of concern...something that could have been for your good...and shredded it? If you are a human being, the answer is undoubtedly "yes." Like the pup temporarily in residence at our place, we all make mistakes. We all too often don't grasp the purpose behind what we have been given...or we just get so carried away by our own agenda that the good things around us end up destroyed.
I think that, sometimes, God must look upon us as though we were a whole race of puppies. We can be loving and loyal. We are smart enough to learn and joyful enough to delight. Unfortunately, we have a tendency to mis-use what we've been given and to pee on the rug.
Thankfully, God...even when He speaks our name in judgment...keeps coming back to play with us, to care for us, to pour out upon us an abundance of mercy and guidance...all in the hopes, I'm sure, that we might grow into the loving and loyal companions we were created to be.
Woof.
She is a sweet dog...loves to run and play (like all puppies do). Full of the warmth and exuberance and loyalty that are core reasons for having dogs in the first place. Even after having to clean up a few "accidents," we're still going to enjoy the days ahead.
We're also going to have to go shopping.
Yesterday...all that exuberance was unleashed on an innocent bath rug left within tooth-and-claw range while we were gone for a while. It was meant to be something soft and cuddly for the pup to sleep on in her kennel. But upon returning home, we found a mound of shredded blue nylon and, after speaking her name with some gravity, one guilty-looking pooch.
So much for comfort.
Question of the day: have you ever destroyed something that was meant for your pleasure, your enjoyment? Have you ever taken a gift, given to you in love or out of concern...something that could have been for your good...and shredded it? If you are a human being, the answer is undoubtedly "yes." Like the pup temporarily in residence at our place, we all make mistakes. We all too often don't grasp the purpose behind what we have been given...or we just get so carried away by our own agenda that the good things around us end up destroyed.
I think that, sometimes, God must look upon us as though we were a whole race of puppies. We can be loving and loyal. We are smart enough to learn and joyful enough to delight. Unfortunately, we have a tendency to mis-use what we've been given and to pee on the rug.
Thankfully, God...even when He speaks our name in judgment...keeps coming back to play with us, to care for us, to pour out upon us an abundance of mercy and guidance...all in the hopes, I'm sure, that we might grow into the loving and loyal companions we were created to be.
Woof.
04 August 2008
Stay in the boat...
Read this coming Sunday’s gospel lesson (Matthew
It’s been popular among preachers and others to focus a lot of time and energy on Peter’s exploits in this text. He apparently takes Jesus at his word, goes over the side, and actually gets a few steps in before he is distracted by the still-raging storm and begins to sink. Jesus, naturally, saves his impetuous disciple and they all live happily ever after. The conclusion normally drawn is that Peter could have made it had he just not taken his eyes off Jesus. His failure is one of resolve; he doesn’t try hard enough. So if you all just try a little harder…
You get the idea. This is a great motivational speech. And it has a place in Christian tradition as an encouragement to stay focused on Christ. But it’s terrible as Gospel because it’s all about Peter’s effort and how we should emulate him…and be just a little better so Jesus won’t call us names like “ye of little faith.” Well, since when is “try a little harder and it will be OK” synonymous with the good news?
Another thing. As Jesus is walking towards the boat and its terrified occupants, he calls out to reassure them: “Take heart; it is
Maybe Monty is right. Maybe there’s just something wrong with this Peter who challenges Jesus and then dares to do what only God is able to do according to the scriptures: walk on water. In point of fact, he’s got no business getting out of that boat.
That’s not to say that the rest of Christ’s motley crew are heroes. Quite likely they were scared out of their wits. But, rather than challenging Jesus’ identity or taking on more than they were asked to do, they stayed in the boat where Jesus had put them and waited for their Savior to climb aboard and calm the sea…to do the stuff that a God and Savior can be counted on to do.
That, it seems to me, is the real good news here. Christ does not abandon his Church to the tempests and turmoils that confront our mission. Rather, he comes to us in our need and our fear, and delivers us from those things that threaten to destroy us.
Our job is to stay in the boat…to stay on task…to go where Jesus sends us…and to do what we are called first to do, i.e. to worship this one who saves us even in the midst of our doubts.
Sit down Peter and keep rowing. The Lord is about to come aboard.
16 June 2008
Techno Man...
Yea…that’s me. I’ve got a brand new machine. It’s tiny. It’s my datebook. It’s my phone. It’s my music player. It’s a camera. It gets email and surfs the internet. It’s a complete little computer with more memory than we had on our first two desk-top computers combined. And I can carry it in my pocket. Not to mention: I’ve got a laptop computer full of bells and whistles connected to the world via a high-speed
27 May 2008
No room to grow?
We spent much of the weekend in the flowerbeds…that once-a-year chore of cleaning up the sticks and leaves, topping the daffodils and tulips, pulling the year’s first weeds, planting our “annuals,” trimming and mulching. Hard work (our bodies remind us!) but satisfying. There's a real sense of accomplishment when it's done.
So…is there any room to grow in your life? Or are things so out of hand that all the color has been crowded out? I realize this isn’t an issue for everyone. But more and more of the folks I talk too seem absolutely harassed by their own calendars…by schedules often of their own making. Sure, there’s work. Add in that the kids (and/or grandkids) are in baseball, gymnastics, soccer, 4-H and go-kart racing...all at the same time. Plus, you’ve got to take care of the house and the cars and whatever additional stuff has accumulated over the years. And it sure would be nice to take some time this weekend for stuff you like to do...to go to the races, and the concert and the zoo.
19 May 2008
First vocation...
Do you remember your first real job? It probably didn't pay well, was an imposition on your social schedule, and generally beneath the level of both your skills and your dignity (something abundantly obvious to everyone but your boss). For me: it was the local Sohio station...a pump jockey...back before there was an oil crisis...all this raw talent for about a buck an hour.
But how about your first vocation? Do you remember that? This is a trickier question because we tend to get these two terms confused. Our jobs are not necessarily our vocations...although hopefully the jobs we do give us occasion to live out our vocation...our calling. Our jobs have to do with what we do. Our vocation has, in a deeper sense, to do with who we are...who God has called us to be.
I find myself drawn again and again to the creation stories in Genesis 1 and 2. Here we meet a loving, powerful and purposeful God who stoops to shape a companion creature after the divine image. This creature will name things...will co-create things...will manage on God's behalf all that has been made...and will praise God for such abundance. This, it seems, is our first vocation. To borrow a phrase from Aidan Kavanaugh: we are homo adorans. More than homo sapiens...the thinking man...we are the "praising man"...called to be priests in the temple that is the universe for the purpose of the praise of God's greatness.
We Lutherans like to talk about "the priesthood of all believers"...a notion that links our shared work as Christians into our common baptism into Christ. But we haven't often been so clear as to what that shared work looks like. Let me suggest this: we are called to live the liturgy of life...gathering, orchestrating and offering the continual sacrifice of thanksgiving which rises from the earth and her creatures to the God from whom all things flow.
So...what does that liturgy look like in your daily routine? As you go about your job (or your school work or your play or your retirement), how is your vocation as priest in God's house evident?
I'm pretty sure I never asked that question of myself back when I was pumping gas and wiping windshields. Vocation (if I even knew what the word meant) was something for preachers and other religious types. Turns out, however, we're all religious types. It's built into us by the very nature of our creation...by the very nature of our Creator.
12 May 2008
Desperate to get in...
Story #1:
Remember a few weeks ago when I was complaining about the squirrels in the attic? Turns out those weren’t squirrels; it was (and still is) a raccoon. To complicate the issue, we think it’s a Momma raccoon who had her babies yesterday afternoon…on Mother’s Day. Isn’t that just sweet?
Maybe or maybe not. We can debate the merits of animals…birthing animals…in your attic. But that’s not really the point.
This past Friday evening, we held a stake-out party…also billed as a raccoon exorcism. With the vent cover off the attic, we gathered across the parking lot in our lawn chairs, armed with our mini-keg, our cheese and crackers and our binoculars in order to watch for the raccoon to leave the attic on its nightly foray. Our patience was rewarded; the beasty climbed out the opening, up the chimney, across the roof and scooted down the TV antenna and out into the woods. A few of us scrambled up onto the adjacent roof and quickly covered the opening with a nice heavy metal cover. Then we rejoiced at having (finally) gotten the animal out. Yippee!
Early Sunday morning, about 1:30am…in the night before she was to apparently give birth…our masked friend returned. Upon finding access to her nest covered by metal, she starting tearing into things…including a couple of bedroom screens. (Good thing we had the windows closed!) I could hardly believe the ferocity of this little animal…so desperate was she to get back in. And wouldn’t you know: she succeeded. She tore a whole in the metal cover, ripping it away from the metal frame into which it had been securely screwed and left it hanging there in shreds and pieces.
Story #2:
Some folks recently let me know that they hadn’t been able to come to church for a few weeks because one Sunday they drove into the parking lot and couldn’t find a space. So they went home.
Follow-up Question:
What does the raccoon understand that we human beings don’t? Are there places worth fighting your way in to? What are we willing to give/spend/invest of ourselves in order to come into that most desirable of all human “nests”…the presence of the gracious and living God?
I’ll let you answer those for yourself. In the meantime: if you show up here and the lot is full, go ahead and park on the grass.
Remember a few weeks ago when I was complaining about the squirrels in the attic? Turns out those weren’t squirrels; it was (and still is) a raccoon. To complicate the issue, we think it’s a Momma raccoon who had her babies yesterday afternoon…on Mother’s Day. Isn’t that just sweet?
Maybe or maybe not. We can debate the merits of animals…birthing animals…in your attic. But that’s not really the point.
This past Friday evening, we held a stake-out party…also billed as a raccoon exorcism. With the vent cover off the attic, we gathered across the parking lot in our lawn chairs, armed with our mini-keg, our cheese and crackers and our binoculars in order to watch for the raccoon to leave the attic on its nightly foray. Our patience was rewarded; the beasty climbed out the opening, up the chimney, across the roof and scooted down the TV antenna and out into the woods. A few of us scrambled up onto the adjacent roof and quickly covered the opening with a nice heavy metal cover. Then we rejoiced at having (finally) gotten the animal out. Yippee!
Early Sunday morning, about 1:30am…in the night before she was to apparently give birth…our masked friend returned. Upon finding access to her nest covered by metal, she starting tearing into things…including a couple of bedroom screens. (Good thing we had the windows closed!) I could hardly believe the ferocity of this little animal…so desperate was she to get back in. And wouldn’t you know: she succeeded. She tore a whole in the metal cover, ripping it away from the metal frame into which it had been securely screwed and left it hanging there in shreds and pieces.
Story #2:
Some folks recently let me know that they hadn’t been able to come to church for a few weeks because one Sunday they drove into the parking lot and couldn’t find a space. So they went home.
Follow-up Question:
What does the raccoon understand that we human beings don’t? Are there places worth fighting your way in to? What are we willing to give/spend/invest of ourselves in order to come into that most desirable of all human “nests”…the presence of the gracious and living God?
I’ll let you answer those for yourself. In the meantime: if you show up here and the lot is full, go ahead and park on the grass.
05 May 2008
Help wanted...
This is a two-part posting.
Part One...a big thank you. Jen Pollard (along with husband Josh) has been our youth ministry coordinator for the past two-plus years. They have done wonderful work here...earning the love and trust of our young people, opening up some important conversations about faith and life, and energizing our ministry with and for the youth of this congregation as well as their friends. Thank you...no matter how big...doesn't cut it. "Thanks be to God" gets closer, but even that feels inadequate.
Jen and Josh, however, have new responsibilities. As they welcome Eden Suzanne into the world as their first child, the demands of parenthood must take precedence. We pray God's blessings upon all three of them as newly formed family, and are confident that they will continue to grow in love for God and each other.
Part Two...help wanted. Grace is now in need of a youth ministry coordinator. We've put out some feelers to folks in the community and via some neighboring universities who might have qualified folks heading towards our neck of the woods. But so far, no one has surfaced as a candidate. So, loyal readers, we turn to you for input and assistance. If you or someone you know might be right for this calling, give PD a call or email. And it is, by the way, a calling...not just a part-time job. Loving these young people means first being in loving relationship with God. Guiding and encouraging them requires someone who is likewise being guided and encouraged by God's own Spirit.
In the meantime, we're praying...confidently...that God will send us the person right for this place and our young people. We ask you to join in that prayer with us. Thanks!
Part One...a big thank you. Jen Pollard (along with husband Josh) has been our youth ministry coordinator for the past two-plus years. They have done wonderful work here...earning the love and trust of our young people, opening up some important conversations about faith and life, and energizing our ministry with and for the youth of this congregation as well as their friends. Thank you...no matter how big...doesn't cut it. "Thanks be to God" gets closer, but even that feels inadequate.
Jen and Josh, however, have new responsibilities. As they welcome Eden Suzanne into the world as their first child, the demands of parenthood must take precedence. We pray God's blessings upon all three of them as newly formed family, and are confident that they will continue to grow in love for God and each other.
Part Two...help wanted. Grace is now in need of a youth ministry coordinator. We've put out some feelers to folks in the community and via some neighboring universities who might have qualified folks heading towards our neck of the woods. But so far, no one has surfaced as a candidate. So, loyal readers, we turn to you for input and assistance. If you or someone you know might be right for this calling, give PD a call or email. And it is, by the way, a calling...not just a part-time job. Loving these young people means first being in loving relationship with God. Guiding and encouraging them requires someone who is likewise being guided and encouraged by God's own Spirit.
In the meantime, we're praying...confidently...that God will send us the person right for this place and our young people. We ask you to join in that prayer with us. Thanks!
02 May 2008
Bridging the gap...
I worry sometimes about the distance between what we say is important and what we really believe is important as evidenced by our actions. For example:
There's not a person among us who doesn't want a better, safer, more just, equitable and peaceful world. Well...OK. Maybe there are a few really sick, twisted folks among us who don't want those things. But by and large, the desire for the world to be a better place isn't merely the aspiration of Miss America contestants. All of us want that.
As Christians, we confess that there is a way in which the world can be better. Not perfect, mind you. That won't happen until Christ himself returns to reign. But better nonetheless. And it begins with willing obedience to the not-so-new commandment which Jesus gave his disciples: Love the Lord your God; love your neighbor as you love yourself.
God first. Others second. Then me. It's a pretty easy formula to remember. It's a bit more difficult to live, however, because it gets in the way of so much of what the world promises. Awash in a celebrity culture that fawns over the self, we have a hard time fighting off the urge to draw attention to ourselves at the expense of God and others. The result is a narcissism that poisons human culture and makes real peace, justice and equity practically impossible.
And the really tough part is that it is so subtle. We get sucked in by the smallest of things...the praise of others at our successes (when we really should be thanking God for the ability to accomplish whatever we manage to do)...the desire to give our kids (or is it really ourselves?) so much of everything that there's no time left for regular worship or Christian nurture or real "family" time.
And as subtle as it is to fall into the trap, it's even harder to get out. Can you imagine the uproar if folks demanded that there be no more soccer games before 2:00pm on Sunday. Outrageous!
And yet, that kind of outrage may be just what is necessary. We need to re-assess...make some intentional decisions about what's important in our lives and the lives of our children. For some folks that will probably mean leaving the church and her faith even farther behind. I am sad for them. But hopefully for others it will mean a reclaiming of some control over their lives (something I'm guessing that most of us would like) based on a humble and grateful obedience to Christ...a re-prioritization (if there is such a word) that loves God first, that loves others second, and that is unafraid to love "me" third...knowing that God already holds us in love that is unfailing.
Such confidence in what Jesus promises...now there's the key to the world we all want.
There's not a person among us who doesn't want a better, safer, more just, equitable and peaceful world. Well...OK. Maybe there are a few really sick, twisted folks among us who don't want those things. But by and large, the desire for the world to be a better place isn't merely the aspiration of Miss America contestants. All of us want that.
As Christians, we confess that there is a way in which the world can be better. Not perfect, mind you. That won't happen until Christ himself returns to reign. But better nonetheless. And it begins with willing obedience to the not-so-new commandment which Jesus gave his disciples: Love the Lord your God; love your neighbor as you love yourself.
God first. Others second. Then me. It's a pretty easy formula to remember. It's a bit more difficult to live, however, because it gets in the way of so much of what the world promises. Awash in a celebrity culture that fawns over the self, we have a hard time fighting off the urge to draw attention to ourselves at the expense of God and others. The result is a narcissism that poisons human culture and makes real peace, justice and equity practically impossible.
And the really tough part is that it is so subtle. We get sucked in by the smallest of things...the praise of others at our successes (when we really should be thanking God for the ability to accomplish whatever we manage to do)...the desire to give our kids (or is it really ourselves?) so much of everything that there's no time left for regular worship or Christian nurture or real "family" time.
And as subtle as it is to fall into the trap, it's even harder to get out. Can you imagine the uproar if folks demanded that there be no more soccer games before 2:00pm on Sunday. Outrageous!
And yet, that kind of outrage may be just what is necessary. We need to re-assess...make some intentional decisions about what's important in our lives and the lives of our children. For some folks that will probably mean leaving the church and her faith even farther behind. I am sad for them. But hopefully for others it will mean a reclaiming of some control over their lives (something I'm guessing that most of us would like) based on a humble and grateful obedience to Christ...a re-prioritization (if there is such a word) that loves God first, that loves others second, and that is unafraid to love "me" third...knowing that God already holds us in love that is unfailing.
Such confidence in what Jesus promises...now there's the key to the world we all want.
27 March 2008
Morning breath?
Help me with this one. It's based on an brief note I saw somewhere...can't remember where. But there is something intriguing about the notion of Jesus breathing on his disciples...breathing onto them the new day, eighth day, creation day. What did that morning breath do to the disciples? Set them free to speak on Pentecost? And what does it do to us? Sometimes I wonder if it's anything at all.
24 March 2008
The joke's on the Devil...
There’s a very old tradition which says that the day after Easter Sunday is a day for telling jokes. Jesus’ rising from the dead, after all, is God’s great joke on the Devil. Now we get to join in the fun. So here are a few to share. Blessed Easter to you all!
***
A scientist was arguing with God that could make a human being just like God had made Adam. God took the challenge, knelt down in the dirt, and began molding it into the shape of a man. Likewise, the scientist knelt down and took some dirt into his hands. God, however, interrupted him: “Oh, no you don’t. You make your own dirt.”
***
GOOD SAMARITAN: A Sunday school teacher was telling her class the story of the Good Samaritan. She asked the class, 'If you saw a person lying on the roadside, all wounded and bleeding, what would you do?' A thoughtful little girl broke the hushed silence, 'I think I'd throw up.'
***
Billy Graham was returning to Charlotte after a speaking engagement. When his plane arrived, there was a limousine ready to transport him to his home. As he prepared to get into the limo, he stopped and spoke to the driver. "You know" he said, "I am 87 years old and I have never driven a limousine. Would you mind if I drove it for a while?" The driver said, "No problem. Have at it."
Billy gets into the driver's seat and they head off down the highway. A short distance away sat a rookie State Trooper operating his first speed trap. The long black limo went by him doing 70 in a 55 mph zone. The trooper pulled out and easily caught the limo, and got out of his patrol car to begin the procedure.
The young trooper walked up to the driver's door. When the window was rolled down he was surprised to see who was driving. He immediately excused himself and went back to his car and called his supervisor. He told the supervisor, "I know we are supposed to enforce the law, but I also know that important people are given certain courtesies. I need to know what I should do because I have stopped a very important person."
The supervisor asked, "Is it the governor?" The young Trooper said, "No, he's more important than that." The supervisor said, "Oh, so it's the president." The young trooper said, "No, he's even more important than that." The supervisor, exasperated, finally asked, "Well then, who is it?" The young trooper said, "I think it’s Jesus.”
“Jesus?” asked the supervisor. “Why, in heaven’s name, would you think it’s Jesus?”
“Because,” said the rookie, “he's got Billy Graham for a chauffeur.”
***
A scientist was arguing with God that could make a human being just like God had made Adam. God took the challenge, knelt down in the dirt, and began molding it into the shape of a man. Likewise, the scientist knelt down and took some dirt into his hands. God, however, interrupted him: “Oh, no you don’t. You make your own dirt.”
***
GOOD SAMARITAN: A Sunday school teacher was telling her class the story of the Good Samaritan. She asked the class, 'If you saw a person lying on the roadside, all wounded and bleeding, what would you do?' A thoughtful little girl broke the hushed silence, 'I think I'd throw up.'
***
Billy Graham was returning to Charlotte after a speaking engagement. When his plane arrived, there was a limousine ready to transport him to his home. As he prepared to get into the limo, he stopped and spoke to the driver. "You know" he said, "I am 87 years old and I have never driven a limousine. Would you mind if I drove it for a while?" The driver said, "No problem. Have at it."
Billy gets into the driver's seat and they head off down the highway. A short distance away sat a rookie State Trooper operating his first speed trap. The long black limo went by him doing 70 in a 55 mph zone. The trooper pulled out and easily caught the limo, and got out of his patrol car to begin the procedure.
The young trooper walked up to the driver's door. When the window was rolled down he was surprised to see who was driving. He immediately excused himself and went back to his car and called his supervisor. He told the supervisor, "I know we are supposed to enforce the law, but I also know that important people are given certain courtesies. I need to know what I should do because I have stopped a very important person."
The supervisor asked, "Is it the governor?" The young Trooper said, "No, he's more important than that." The supervisor said, "Oh, so it's the president." The young trooper said, "No, he's even more important than that." The supervisor, exasperated, finally asked, "Well then, who is it?" The young trooper said, "I think it’s Jesus.”
“Jesus?” asked the supervisor. “Why, in heaven’s name, would you think it’s Jesus?”
“Because,” said the rookie, “he's got Billy Graham for a chauffeur.”
17 March 2008
Getting to Easter...
I’m already looking forward to next Sunday. Michael and Rachel will be home for a few days. The church will be full of people, lilies, music and light. Spring and the promise of warmer days will be a few steps closer at hand…as the snow drifts outside my north window continue to melt away. What’s not to like about all that?
But I do a dis-service…maybe even damage…to my soul by skipping over the Holy Week before us, and straining ahead to Easter Sunday’s grand party. I wonder: is it possible to comprehend the joy of the resurrection without having contemplated the ugliness of the cross?
The temptation is certainly real. We don’t like things that are painful and messy. We don’t much care to focus on our own culpability in the whole affair. It’s more fun and (we often rationalize) better for us to concentrate on happy thoughts and our own innate goodness. I offer as proof the fact that I’ve never yet presided at a funeral where folks didn’t rush to assure me how the deceased “was a really good person.”
The hard truth? We are all dead in our sin. We have become separated from the God who created and loves us. Despite our best intentions, we find it impossible to live in obedience and humility to God because we are so much in love with ourselves first. The “really good person” our survivors will attest we were doesn’t happen and will never happen because of what we did or how we lived.
And yet...it does happen. It happens because of Jesus who is truly obedient and humble…who loves the Father and this fallen creation (including us) more than himself…and who proves that love on the Cross. We are restored to right relationship with God only because of what Christ has done: that’s the good news we celebrate on Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and at Saturday’s Vigil of Easter.
Let me encourage you: don’t skip Holy Week…no matter how busy your life or crowded your calendar. Make time to hear the Gospel of Jesus’ love for you at the cost of His suffering and death. The story may not be as sweet as the chocolate bunny you’re anticipating next Sunday. But it will add new depth to your appreciation of the One who dies and rises to save the world.
But I do a dis-service…maybe even damage…to my soul by skipping over the Holy Week before us, and straining ahead to Easter Sunday’s grand party. I wonder: is it possible to comprehend the joy of the resurrection without having contemplated the ugliness of the cross?
The temptation is certainly real. We don’t like things that are painful and messy. We don’t much care to focus on our own culpability in the whole affair. It’s more fun and (we often rationalize) better for us to concentrate on happy thoughts and our own innate goodness. I offer as proof the fact that I’ve never yet presided at a funeral where folks didn’t rush to assure me how the deceased “was a really good person.”
The hard truth? We are all dead in our sin. We have become separated from the God who created and loves us. Despite our best intentions, we find it impossible to live in obedience and humility to God because we are so much in love with ourselves first. The “really good person” our survivors will attest we were doesn’t happen and will never happen because of what we did or how we lived.
And yet...it does happen. It happens because of Jesus who is truly obedient and humble…who loves the Father and this fallen creation (including us) more than himself…and who proves that love on the Cross. We are restored to right relationship with God only because of what Christ has done: that’s the good news we celebrate on Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and at Saturday’s Vigil of Easter.
Let me encourage you: don’t skip Holy Week…no matter how busy your life or crowded your calendar. Make time to hear the Gospel of Jesus’ love for you at the cost of His suffering and death. The story may not be as sweet as the chocolate bunny you’re anticipating next Sunday. But it will add new depth to your appreciation of the One who dies and rises to save the world.
10 March 2008
Lord, if only...
The disciples insinuate it, but Martha is the first to say it (according to John 11): "Lord, if only you had been here, my brother would not have died." Her grief-stricken sister repeats the same words to Jesus through her tears. And finally, the crowd takes up the theme: "Surely a man who can heal someone born blind could have prevented Lazarus from dying."
From our perspective...standing 2000 years from death and resurrection...it might be tempting to sneer at our ancient brothers and sisters for just not getting who Jesus really is. How dense...how faithless were those folks, anyhow?
No more dense or faithless than us. The truth is that time hasn't necessarily improved our vision or understanding. A lot of our prayers and pleadings sound remarkably like theirs: "O God, if you'll just..." You complete the sentence: take away my cancer, stop all war, keep me from getting older and fatter, etc. The bottom line is that what we'd really like is a prophylactic messiah...someone who will shield us from the nastiness and grittiness of life and death...rather than someone who will show us the path to eternal life that goes right through death itself.
"I am the resurrection and the life," Jesus promises. "Yea, yea, yea," we respond...glad to hear it but not always ready to believe it. And then he does something amazing like raise Lazarus from the dead, even at the cost of his own life. Maybe that's enough to get our attention, and to see that this Christ is more than a genie granting our wishes. He is busy bringing new life...busy raising us from the dead, too.
From our perspective...standing 2000 years from death and resurrection...it might be tempting to sneer at our ancient brothers and sisters for just not getting who Jesus really is. How dense...how faithless were those folks, anyhow?
No more dense or faithless than us. The truth is that time hasn't necessarily improved our vision or understanding. A lot of our prayers and pleadings sound remarkably like theirs: "O God, if you'll just..." You complete the sentence: take away my cancer, stop all war, keep me from getting older and fatter, etc. The bottom line is that what we'd really like is a prophylactic messiah...someone who will shield us from the nastiness and grittiness of life and death...rather than someone who will show us the path to eternal life that goes right through death itself.
"I am the resurrection and the life," Jesus promises. "Yea, yea, yea," we respond...glad to hear it but not always ready to believe it. And then he does something amazing like raise Lazarus from the dead, even at the cost of his own life. Maybe that's enough to get our attention, and to see that this Christ is more than a genie granting our wishes. He is busy bringing new life...busy raising us from the dead, too.
26 February 2008
Half a lung...
Sorry for missing you last week. I was ambushed by strep throat, and spent most of Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday laying in bed, taking medicine, and cursing the micro-biological invaders who had made my body their humble abode. Back to work this week with few side effects. I'm down to coughing up just half a lung in occasional spasms. And the doctor says that as long as I cover my mouth and wash my hands, I am no longer a walking plague dispensary.
A word of thanks to all those around Grace who simply stepped up and got things done. God has indeed blessed this place with talented and willing lay leadership.
By way of reflection on the experience, I'm reminded how thin is the ice on which we build our projects and lay out our calendars. Was it Keats or Browning? "The best laid plans of mice and men gang aft aglee..." This is most certainly true. (Yes, Luther. That one I'm sure of.)
So all the good stuff I was to accomplish last week got lost in the fog and the fever. And guess what? The world continued to revolve. Sun up and sun down on schedule just as though I wasn't really in charge.
It's a tough lesson to learn, but one which in our wiser moments we might be privileged to grasp: a greater mind than ours holds the spinning worlds and blinking stars. Larger arms than ours cradle both a surging universe and the single body of a broken human being. Here the foolishness of the cross begins to make sense. It is in sickness and need when we most clearly see the power and grace of God...and can be thankful that we are its beneficiaries. This, too, is most certainly true.
A word of thanks to all those around Grace who simply stepped up and got things done. God has indeed blessed this place with talented and willing lay leadership.
By way of reflection on the experience, I'm reminded how thin is the ice on which we build our projects and lay out our calendars. Was it Keats or Browning? "The best laid plans of mice and men gang aft aglee..." This is most certainly true. (Yes, Luther. That one I'm sure of.)
So all the good stuff I was to accomplish last week got lost in the fog and the fever. And guess what? The world continued to revolve. Sun up and sun down on schedule just as though I wasn't really in charge.
It's a tough lesson to learn, but one which in our wiser moments we might be privileged to grasp: a greater mind than ours holds the spinning worlds and blinking stars. Larger arms than ours cradle both a surging universe and the single body of a broken human being. Here the foolishness of the cross begins to make sense. It is in sickness and need when we most clearly see the power and grace of God...and can be thankful that we are its beneficiaries. This, too, is most certainly true.
11 February 2008
Break Fast...
It's the habit (or tradition) for many of us to fast during this Lenten season...to intentionally deprive ourselves of some pleasure or treasure as a way of learning to discipline our often insatiable appetites. The end result, hopefully, is that we are better able to focus on the Savior who disciplines his life for our sake.
So, not to be nosy, but...have you broken your fast yet?
Sorry to say: I have. I lasted all of about two days. And I really wanted to do better this year...to prove to myself (if not to God) that I had the stamina and the fortitude to be really good...to take control of my life...to be a better human being. All I've proven is how weak and broken I really am. There's not much comfort in that. You may have already come to the same conclusion.
But there is comfort in knowing that the Father's capacity for mercy is greater than my resolve. There is comfort in knowing that Christ's death and resurrection cover even my sinfulness. There is comfort in knowing that the gift of the Spirit does not evaporate as quickly as my own enthusiasm for doing the right thing.
It is a new day. Thanks be to God: I get to start over.
So, not to be nosy, but...have you broken your fast yet?
Sorry to say: I have. I lasted all of about two days. And I really wanted to do better this year...to prove to myself (if not to God) that I had the stamina and the fortitude to be really good...to take control of my life...to be a better human being. All I've proven is how weak and broken I really am. There's not much comfort in that. You may have already come to the same conclusion.
But there is comfort in knowing that the Father's capacity for mercy is greater than my resolve. There is comfort in knowing that Christ's death and resurrection cover even my sinfulness. There is comfort in knowing that the gift of the Spirit does not evaporate as quickly as my own enthusiasm for doing the right thing.
It is a new day. Thanks be to God: I get to start over.
04 February 2008
Don't tell anyone...
What an intriguing conclusion to the story of Jesus' transfiguration (Matthew 17:1-9). Just when Peter, James and John get a flash of insight into the true nature of their Lord, Jesus instructs them not to say a word...at least not until after "the Son of Man has been raised from the dead." Oh, please. How do you keep such an experience under wraps?
But Jesus knows something about human nature which compels his command: we are suckers for the spectacular.
It's true. We love the glitzy and the glamorous...the headline-grabbers and the mega-performers. Jesus...dazzling on the mountaintop, holding forth with Moses and Elijah...certainly fits in that category. We could hardly help but be impressed. But if we think we know the truth about God from one shining moment, we are not just mistaken...we are deprived. And our faith will never be much more than a wilted plant, thirsting for the next infusion of life-giving excitement.
If, however, we are able to see the Divine also at work in the healing of the sick, the inclusion of the outcast, fellowship with sinners, and finally on the cross...then we might begin to grasp (and give thanks for the fact) that Christ comes not merely to amaze us, but to save us. And he does so not by ignoring or superceding our ordinary existence, but by sanctifying it with his own blood.
Now...we've got something to talk about!
But Jesus knows something about human nature which compels his command: we are suckers for the spectacular.
It's true. We love the glitzy and the glamorous...the headline-grabbers and the mega-performers. Jesus...dazzling on the mountaintop, holding forth with Moses and Elijah...certainly fits in that category. We could hardly help but be impressed. But if we think we know the truth about God from one shining moment, we are not just mistaken...we are deprived. And our faith will never be much more than a wilted plant, thirsting for the next infusion of life-giving excitement.
If, however, we are able to see the Divine also at work in the healing of the sick, the inclusion of the outcast, fellowship with sinners, and finally on the cross...then we might begin to grasp (and give thanks for the fact) that Christ comes not merely to amaze us, but to save us. And he does so not by ignoring or superceding our ordinary existence, but by sanctifying it with his own blood.
Now...we've got something to talk about!
08 January 2008
Epiphany...
Maybe the word "manifestation" is better. Or maybe we should say something like "the appearing" or "the revealing." I think we sometimes miss the importance of this past Sunday's festival (The Day of Epiphany) because we can't quite grasp the weight which this word carries. After all...this is just a child who receives the homage of the magi. What's so revealing or portentious or manifest about that...especially in a society that is used to adoring its infants.
Ah...but how shallow our adoration when compared to theirs. The gifts we bring are ordinary and utilitarian. Diapers and even savings bonds or brokerage accounts hardly stack up to gold, frankincense and myrrh. And seldom do we come with such mighty expectations for the child. We might indulge them like material royalty, but we don't imagine that they'll give their lives for the sake of the world. And even weird Aunt Edna (doesn't every family have one of those?) can't hold a candle to these strange and mystical seers who come with offerings and warnings for Mary and her child.
Something special is, indeed, going on here. Something extraordinary is being revealed among us...so unusual that the stars themselves brighten and bend. For here is not just a child, but a scandal of cosmic proportions...God takes up human flesh that human flesh might some day take up God's own full intent for itself. And the child...this Jesus...is the first, the One, the pioneer and perfecter of a faith which will open every human heart to the power and presence of the Divine.
Epiphany. It has been revealed. O come; let us adore him!
Ah...but how shallow our adoration when compared to theirs. The gifts we bring are ordinary and utilitarian. Diapers and even savings bonds or brokerage accounts hardly stack up to gold, frankincense and myrrh. And seldom do we come with such mighty expectations for the child. We might indulge them like material royalty, but we don't imagine that they'll give their lives for the sake of the world. And even weird Aunt Edna (doesn't every family have one of those?) can't hold a candle to these strange and mystical seers who come with offerings and warnings for Mary and her child.
Something special is, indeed, going on here. Something extraordinary is being revealed among us...so unusual that the stars themselves brighten and bend. For here is not just a child, but a scandal of cosmic proportions...God takes up human flesh that human flesh might some day take up God's own full intent for itself. And the child...this Jesus...is the first, the One, the pioneer and perfecter of a faith which will open every human heart to the power and presence of the Divine.
Epiphany. It has been revealed. O come; let us adore him!
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