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.
24 November 2008
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.
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