Finding comfort...

It’s been a tough winter in these parts. Most folks I talk to are glad for the promise of spring. Too many deaths, including the young and seemingly healthy who aren’t supposed to die. Relationships that just don’t seem to be working out the way we had envisioned they would. New jobs with big expectations and lost jobs with no prospects. Layer on some angry politics, a global economic crisis and the usual dose of seasonal affective disorder and you’ve got a banquet-sized recipe for despair. How’s a person supposed to muddle through?

This past Sunday’s readings included a strange tale. Israel was grumbling in the wilderness (not so strange, actually) and God decides to punish them by sending fiery/poisonous serpents into their midst. (Why do I hear my father’s voice when I read this story: “I’ll give you something real to cry about…”) The people are bit; some of them even die. Eventually, they go to Moses and beg for relief: “Ask the Lord to take away these snakes!” Moses takes their request to the Almighty. Rather than removing the serpents, however, God comes up with another idea. He tells Moses to fashion a snake on a stick…a likeness of their troubles to be held up over the folks. And God promises that, if the bitten and bothered look up to this fascinating display, they would be healed.

I wonder: What is it that we modern (or post-modern) human beings look up to when we are in the midst of suffering and death? What gets our attention when we are hurting the most? March Madness? The on-going political drama in Washington? That bottle of Jack Daniels in the cupboard? There are plenty of ways in which we are invited and encouraged to soothe our bitter woes. Too bad most of them are simply a matter of denial…ways to cover over the pain with emotions, loyalties and addictions that can’t ultimately save us.

Or…we can go face-to-face with death itself. “And I, when I am lifted up, will draw all people to myself.” Jesus makes that promise just days before his crucifixion…before he is raised like a snake on a stick to be a healing sign for those who are ready to look up and live. In Christ, crucified and risen, two things become clear: God does not abandon us, even in the face of death; and death (along with its minions of despair and fear) does not have the final word for us.
Oh sure…the snakes are still there. Winters like the one we’ve just had will continue to plague us. But we can find comfort in knowing that, through good times and bad, we are safe in the arms of one whom death cannot conquer, whom fear cannot poison, whom despair cannot stop. Even on SAD days, we say “thanks be to God.”

Everyday stuff...

I'm writing this entry on February 18...the anniversary of the death of Martin Luther in 1546 at Eisleben, Germany. He happened to be at Eisleben (which was also where he was born in 1483) because a couple of the local bigwigs were engaged in a quarrel. He went to help negotiate a settlement between them so that peace and prosperity might be restored in the area. It was difficult, mundane work (accompanied by some of Luther's usual earthy commentary...this time about the usefulness of lawyers).

While there, he became very ill and died in a small, borrowed room in an obscure house in this tiny little town. No fanfare. No ER-like rush to save the great motivator of the Protestant Reformation. And the bigwigs and their beloved lawyers didn't get their disputes settled either.

So much for being the "big man on campus."

...but fitting as a reminder of the nature of Christian life. While our tendency is to look for glory, we are called instead to faithfulness. Bling and notoriety would be good, we think (and so the world tells us). But in fact, simple loving service to God and to one another is a much better indicator of the disposition of our hearts and the destiny of our souls.

And perhaps that doesn't sound exciting enough for us, but it is indeed good news. It is good news because it sanctifies our everyday living. It is good news because it reminds us that each moment of every life is precious to God. It is good news because it allows us to follow Christ whose own humility and obedience opened the way to a life that even death could not end.

So today or this week or whenever you find yourself slogging through the seemingly endless grind of the mundane, remember: God is working through you to bring life and hope and possibility even there. It is our calling and our privilege.

Do we have to?

If you are (or were ever) a kid, you've said this. If you are an adult, you've thought it. The situations might vary from time and station in life, but our reaction to compulsion...to the rule of someone else's law over us...is remarkably consistent.

And while it would be nice to think that we never have those feelings about our relationship to God or to the Church, that's simply not the case. Ask any 13-year-old who's been hauled out of bed in time to make Sunday School...or any 47-year-old who knows that going to church means missing the pre-game show. The reaction is the same.

I think we learn that reaction from assuming that this "Gospel" the Church talks about all the time is really just another way of forcing us to do stuff we'd rather not do...to sit still and pay attention and give our money and shut up. If that's what you've been hearing as "good news"...well, it's no wonder that your reaction is "do I have to." It is my firm belief however (and I think Fr. Martin would back me up on this) that more law...more guilt...more demands...those things are not the Gospel at all.

Try this on for size instead: The Gospel of Jesus...the good news of God's grace and love for us...are not about what God demands from us. It's about what God unconditionally gives us: forgiveness, hope, freedom and such rich possibility that's there's no other way to describe it other than to call it "new life." The good news is that all this is ours simply because God has chosen to love us. That's it. End of story. You don't have to do anything. These gifts are yours already.

So where does all this law stuff come from?

Well...it has its place. But the law always comes after the fact that God comes to us first. Think of it this way: Because God forgives us, we are free to forgive one another. Because God's engagement with the world is in love and humble service, we are free to love and humbly serve one another and God. Because God chooses life over death, we too can set aside all those things that would (and do!) kill us and choose life instead. And we do these things not because we have to. Remember: God's taken care of what must be done. We do these things because (drum-roll, please) we get to.

Ooooh...now there's a turn.

Can you imagine how joy-filled and fun faith and life would be if we approached it with a "get-to" rather than a "have-to" attitude? You don't have to go to Bible study; you get to learn and experience more about how gracious God is. You don't have to go to Church; you get to share God's joy and comfort with the rest of God's people. You don't have to stop the dishonoring, killing, lying, coveting and adultery (just to name a few of our favorite commandments); you get to live in peace and harmony with your neighbor.

It's a fact: God's grace opens up the very best deal in the world...and you "get to" be a part of it. Really now...who wouldn't want to be part of something so good?

Three bottles of dish soap...

...and a few rolls of garbage bags, some serving utensils, and ice cream sandwiches. I have no idea why someone would steal these things from the church kitchen. But they're all missing of late. And (consequently) there's talk about building security and catching a thief and who's going to pay to replace stolen stuff in the meantime.

My first thought about the mini-uproar surrounding these things was that folks were over-reacting to the situation. Then I remembered. Hospice was called in yesterday for one. The cancer has returned in liver and bone for another. The chemotherapy isn't going all that well for one more. Some difficult decisions had to be confronted about long-term care for a loved one. And yet one more was laid off permanently after sixteen years of hard work and loyal service. That's in the last 16 hours.

Sometimes, it's just easier to be mad about dish soap.

Thankfully, anger isn't the only reaction. There's been lots of fervent prayer. And a family gathered with their ailing one around Word and Meal. One is taking up her Bible in a new way. Still another is learning forgiveness. Even amidst the tears, hope grows.

So faith stirs within us.

Perhaps the more cynical would dismiss this pious activity as "foxhole religion." They may, to some extent, be right. But if we take seriously the notion that God meets us in our deepest need, then we should be looking...anxious and expectant...to find wholeness and salvation when we need it most.

Make no mistake: there will be difficult outcomes here. Several funerals. Financial struggle. Criminal charges. But there will be...indeed, already is...Christ here, too. We walk tearfully, angrily and yet confidently through all that comes our way when we remember that we do not walk alone. Thanks be to God.

Breaking in...

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Stay in the boat...

Read this coming Sunday’s gospel lesson (Matthew 14:22-33) to my friend Monty and he has a fit. Guaranteed. Sometimes we do it just to rile him up. “What the heck was Peter thinking?” he rants. Monty, you see, is an experienced sailor. He knows that you never jump out of the boat. The best way to survive is to stay in, hunker down and hang on…even in the worst of storms. “Peter is some kind of nut!” he will undoubtedly conclude. And while our usual response has been to laugh at the vigor of his objection, I’m beginning to think that Monty has a point.

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 I. Don’t be afraid.” Peter’s response? “Lord, if it is you…” Ahem. The only other two occurrences of “if it is really you” language in Matthew’s Gospel: It’s what the devil dares Jesus with as he tempts him in the wilderness. It’s how the crowd taunts Jesus on the cross. Whoa, Peter. Nasty company.

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.

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 LAN. I’ve got a 250 Gb portable hard drive that’s not much bigger than the old paper datebook I used to carry. I actually know how to use most of this stuff. I’m thinking about getting tights and a cape.

Until it breaks. Until the network goes down. Until the blue screen of death appears…right before your hard drive (in its death throes) eats all your files.

These are wonderful tools. They are wonderful toys. But that is all they are. Real back-up can’t be bought at Best Buy. The real software of life can’t be downloaded from Microsoft. Real power can’t be crammed into a machine in your pocket…and it doesn’t cost $300 or come with a two-year contract.

“I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.” Jesus the Christ. Jesus the gift. Jesus the bread and the wine, the water and the Word, the hope and the joy and the power for our lives.

But you know this already. So do I. It’s just hard to live…and good to be reminded.

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.

This year the job was a bit bigger than usual. Eight bushes along the front had to go. They were likely planted too close together more than a dozen years ago (when they were new and small). And even with regular trimming since then, they’d simply gotten out of hand…to the point where they were crowding each other and the sidewalk. It was ugly.

But not now. Those eight bushes were replaced with just four. Some new breathing space was opened for the remaining plants and the added color of more flowers. It really looks nice…better, I think, than I had imagined it would.

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.

“Pastor, I just can’t keep up. We’d love to be more involved, but there just aren’t enough hours in a day.”

Or maybe it’s time to pull a few bushes…to open up some space for healthy growth and real color.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.”