Prayer...

Dear God!

How could you let this happen? These poor folks are still grieving the loss of one daughter...and now they're about to lose the second one. Another dread disease. Another terrible diagnosis out of left field. What's going on here? Does it have to be this way? What are we supposed to be learning from this? What is it that you want from these people? Love? Faithfulness? Attention? I can tell you that at this moment you're going to be hard pressed to get any of the above...for they are angry, too, and hurt and confused and wondering why life has to be such a bitch.

And yes... part of this is about me. I'm supposed to be with them and I don't want to go there. Their pain is way too much for me. I'm supposed to know what to say, but I have no glib words...no powerful prayers to offer. Just my own anger at You and my own sense of helplessness.

So thanks a lot. Thanks for nothing! Maybe we'll talk later when I'm not so pissed.

Amen

Ek-Ballo

Sometimes struggling with the Sunday sermon can lead you into some pretty strange places...like an image of the Holy Spirit as a bouncer.

It sounds a little weird, but I'm pretty sure that's what Mark is saying. Jesus gets picked up by the scruff of the neck and tossed into the midst of the wilderness like a two-bit drunk trying to crash a swanky club. And there he lays...on curb of some kind of mean street with all its temptations and wild beasts and angels. Amazing: He comes out of the whole experience proclaiming the nearness of the Kingdom, as though life "out there" could be some kind of transformative experience.

Hmmm. Most of my life has been spent avoiding the wilderness. Maybe I've been wrong about that. Maybe life in the wilderness...life at the edges of civilization...even with all its chaos...is a place where we can learn what it truly means to be the Children of God. Sounds kind of risky.

Monday is a good day to breathe...

The nature of my job is such that Sunday can be a pretty long, pretty intense day. Yesterday as an example: I got to work a little before 6:00am. Non-stop until about 12:30pm. Got a 45 minute break. Went back to work until 4:15pm. Got a 15 minute break. Went back to work until almost 6:30pm.

Please don't misunderstand: I love what I do, even on the intense days. It's good stuff that comes with the prospect of being reasonably helpful for the folks whom I serve and reasonably faithful to the God I love. So I can live with that.

Plus...it makes Monday (with its usually much less frantic pace) a real joy. While most people complain about another start to the work week, I get to smile and take a few deep breaths. It's a chance to read and think...a chance to plan for the next six days...a chance for prayer and reflection...maybe even (like today) a chance for lunch with the Mrs. It probably doesn't technically qualify as Sabbath time. I am still at work. But it comes pretty close.

God had the right idea when he took a day off each week. And he had the right idea when he commanded that we mortal creatures should do the same thing. I hope you're heeding that command. Believe it or not, it's for your own good. Sure...it means you might have to put aside some overtime and maybe delay the purchase of that new (insert name of object you're lusting after here). But you might actually live long enough to enjoy it more...if you can only find a good day to breathe.

Geraldine Brooks...

She's the one who wrote "Year of Wonders." Down to the last couple of chapters...and still a great read. Check it out.

Back Again...

So...it's been a month since I've taken time to write anything here. First the holidays. Then recovery from the holidays. Then a major professional event to prepare for. It all adds up to not enough time to think and write.

As usual, I've got about four books going. One which I'd really recommend is "Year of Wonders." Can't remember the author's name right now, but it's definitely worth looking up...especially if you like historical fiction. Don't want to give too much away, so here are a few clues: 1666, England, Annus Mirabilis. A bit of history checking first will likely whet your appetite for this one. Great read.

Ho, Ho, Ho...

Must be getting soft in my old age...but the constant stream of carols (since mid-November on one local radio station) hasn't seemed to bother me so much this year. I find myself humming along merrily to all sorts of weird versions of the same old tunes. Well...OK. I'm still not cool with Bing Crosby and David Bowie. Whoever put that duo together needs some serious therapy.

But, on balance, I find myself anticipating Christmas with a joy I haven't felt in a few years. And I'm not sure why. The mountain of work on my desk (between congregation, synod and civic responsibilities) is absolutely un-do-able between now and the weekend. There is still some shopping that needs to be done so that the Mrs. has something cool to open on Christmas Day. The doctor just upped by blood pressure medication again. And I'm not sleeping very well at night.

What a wreck! But I'm a perfect candidate for Christmas! Thanks be to the God who comes among us in our current condition...so that we don't have to live forever in such sorry shape. That's enough to make me smile (even if Bing and David insist on singing together).

Too Busy to Say Good-bye...

I was shocked. Maybe...maybe 40 folks (in addition to the kids and grandkids) showed up for Doc's funeral yesterday. Even his one son didn't come; he was "sick." And this was the town doctor...the guy who set their broken bones, wiped their snotty noses, stood with them in the midst of death itself for more than 40 years.

Maybe most folks were just uncomfortable with his dying. After all, when the grim reaper comes for the doctor, who can escape? Or did they simply forget what he had done for them over the years? He'd been retired for a while and was no longer so visible in the community. Out of sight; out of mind. And the next thing you know, we're just too busy to say goodbye.

In the meantime, here's a good lesson: if you think glory is fleeting, you ought to take a look at gratitude. Apparently, it doesn't have much staying power either.

"It's just terrible out there..."

Several of the folks in the crowd that I hang with professionally are pretty liberal. Probably Democrats. Maybe socialist. OK...leftist wackos. So when we are together at various functions, you can count on lots of whining about how terrible George Bush is, how wrong our "occupation" of Iraq is ("was Saddam such a bad guy, really?"), and (my personal favorite) how the economy is just going down the tubes.

Went Christmas shopping with Mrs. Claus last Friday. The economy looks pretty good to me. And I'm not just talking about the "everythings-on-sale-at-Walmart" economy. I'm looking for parking places and room to breathe at upscale bookstores, specialty gift shops, nice department stores in fancy malls. I'm seeing ads that encourage me to give a Lexus as a gift (a campaign I'm sure you wouldn't run if it didn't work). A Lexus! Ho! Ho! Ho!

The only thing I can conclude is that my liberal friends need to fire their current brokers and get better ones. The stores and parking lots are full; the economy continues to grow at a rate that is the envy of the world; more people are working at higher paying jobs than ever before; and my portfolio is making money...and has been for the past two years.

Please. Can't we just complain about George Bush and war, and leave the economy alone?

Waking Up...

It feels like my brain is just now beginning to stir after two big feasts in three days over this past weekend. Great time with family, but really...what kind of chemical do they put in those turkeys? Everybody ends up snoring and drooling like we were having a Homer Simpson sound-alike contest.

What to be thankful for...

There's too much work piled on and around my desk. Thanks be to God for a good job.

There's too much fat packed around my mid-section. Thanks be to God for plenty to eat.

The dog insists on sleeping with her claws in my back. Thanks be to God for a warm bed under a solid roof.

We'll spend eight hours in the car later this week in order to "do" Thanksgiving with our families. Thanks be to God for families with which to celebrate.

Come to think of it, I have life so good that it's almost embarassing. Oh, sure. There are always things to complain about. But they pale in comparison to the fact that I woke up this morning...conscious and able to see another day. And I have a choice. I can spend this day complaining or I can live it in gratitude. The latter doesn't mean overlooking the frustrations and disappointments; it does mean not giving them a bigger place in my life than they deserve.

After all, God is good. Life is good. Not perfect, but good. There's a lot to be thankful for.

Why Wait?

Just home from the hospital...with more blood tests and scans and scopes to come in a few weeks: "This is going to be the best Christmas ever!" she said. "A big tree, lots of presents and music and time with friends and family. I love this season. And if it's going to be my last, it's going to be good."

A wise teacher once told me: "The mortality rate among human beings is 100%." So when cancer came calling for him this past year, he decided to live with it instead of die with it.

It's good news and bad news, huh? We already know how this is going to turn out. So why wait? Why decide to live life to the fullest only after the doctor hands you a death sentence?

Just an Old Tool...

I have my grandfather's hammer. It's one of my prized possessions...a connection to this man who was so important in my growing-up years. But it's not the kind of treasure that sits on a shelf. It is the hammer that I use whenever I need one. The head is dark with age, but still strong. The ash handle likewise has taken on a different color over the years and is almost too smooth from wear. But it feels great in the hand and does not fail to do the job when called upon.

I want to be a hammer in the hand of God. And indeed, is that not our calling as Christians? We are those who are to be ready to go to work at the master's bidding...letting his hand guide us and his will use us for the work and witness of Christ. I want to be comfortable in his grip, knowing already that I am a prized posession...not a treasure on a shelf, but an old reliable tool in the hand of the Master Builder.

Grace Happens...

I love this picture. It shows everybody's best side. :)

Seriously, though: in a world where shit happens all too often, isn't it good to know that something as simple as pancakes and sausages can open up a whole new range of possibilities?

This little gathering provided some much needed support to a soldier's family after he had been injured in Iraq. They got help. We got to help. God gets the glory. It's a good arrangement.

Getting through Monday...

Low power today. Lot's to do. Not much energy to get it done.

Somehow, I need to learn how to let the disappointments slide off more easily. Not bury them or ignore them or dismiss them. That would be psychologically stupid. But learn what can be learned from them and then let 'em go. Most of the time, the things that I percieve as arrows and insults are not even intended for me. They're simply the by-product of someone's frustrations...and I happen to be the target conveniently located close by. It's one of the tougher parts of doing what I do for a living.

On the other hand, there is no shortage of deep joy in singing Isaiah 6 and Revelation 7 from behind the table each week. Indeed...we would be better, kinder, gentler with each other if we could remember in Whose presence we gather.

Thickening on the Dregs...

Have you noticed that more and more folks are opting for complacency as a life strategy? Politically, socially, religiously: it seems that fewer folks are really actively involved. Which means that those who are involved often represent the kind of kook-fringe that exists at the edges of every human endeavor. In the end, society is the poorer...for we no longer benefit from a public discourse that is both passionate and informed, both challenging and respectful.

The brewing hub-hub in Washington over Samuel Alito is a perfect case in point. I'd love to hear more about the man's rulings and qualifications. Instead, we're treated to an endless barrage of blah-blah-blah over how he might rule on the issue of abortion.

Maybe I'm missing something. But it's possible there is more to the court's agenda than that one issue. Yes...it's important. But it's not the only yardstick by which we measure a person suitable for such office.

And the by-product: beyond the kook-fringe yelling at each other about Mr. Alito as baby-killer or baby-savior, no one else can get a word in edge-wise. So more and more simply retire from participation, and the extremists of every ilk get to set the public agenda.

This is not a good idea. It's time to get off our fannies and take our public institutions back from the strident and the overly-agendized. Think. Do your homework. Respectfully ask challenging questions. Hold public leaders accountable at the voting booth and in the newspapers. We can be a fairly reasonable people, if we choose to work at it.

Thesis #62

A little Reformation special for my Lutheran friends...

"The true treasure of the Church is the holy Gospel of the glory and grace of God."

Way to go, Father Martin. Reformandi continuo.

The Pope Goes to Purim...

Just about the crude-est thing I've seen in a long time: Madonna and her husband (ol' what's his name) went to a Purim celebration earlier this year. She was dressed as a nun (in full habit) and he as the Pope (complete with red cap and matching cope). Apparently, they thought it would be a great thing to poke fun at her former religion...especially on one of the holy days of her belief-system du jour.

If it were Halloween, I suppose I could understand. But really...what planet do these people live on? How is it that mocking faithful folks (of any persuasion) is funny? My guess is that Madonna and her consort wouldn't think of bringing a hamburger to a Hindu celebration. Nor would they offer a beer and some pulled pork to a Muslim. So why would you insult nuns and priests?

I suppose we can be glad that at least she had the decency not to wear a leather bustier over the outside of her habit.

...and tears like rain.

As someone of emerging self-awareness...I never realized how vulnerable my spirit is to the weather. And then we get a day like today. Grey. Cold. Rain...just enough to make it hard to see out of your glasses. And a good NNE breeze that eats through the outer layer of a thin jacket. All day I've had lots of things to do. All day I've been putting them off. A nap may be in order...

Aaron...if you are reading along: go home! Or at least call your mom and dad. Their love for you is so great. But all they have today is the grey...the cold...and tears like rain.

This is my body...

In about an hour, 5 little children will present themselves...all excited and ready to learn. We will re-live ancient stories and family feasts. We will marvel at the color of stained-glass pictures, the unexpected burn and fruitiness of wine, the feel of a soft dough working through our fingers. They will leave this place still excited...carrying their Bibles and a little work sheet that will most likely soon will be lost.

But what will not be lost is the wonder in their eyes when tomorrow they come forward and put out their hands and take into it the bread and the wine...the Body and the Blood. I know from experience that they will look up at me and smile. And the "amen" that they speak is barely able to contain the joy that they feel.

Oh, how I love this moment when we are reminded what it means to be so deeply touched by the One who loves us forever.

Absolutely gorgeous sunrise this morning.

I know, I know..."red sky at morning; good sailors take warning." But how can you not love the day that starts in such beauty?