Thankful...

If you are on Facebook (and really…who isn’t on Facebook these days), you’ve probably been reading the status updates of your friends and acquaintances as they post each day during November that one thing, event or person for which they are thankful. Perhaps you’ve been participating in this ritual yourself. Good for you.

I am not making these daily posts. For some reason, I just can’t bring myself to be all that reflective alongside the latest Farmville updates, rude comics, and music videos. But I am a thankful person. Really I am.

Mostly.

Okay…mostly not thankful enough.

Just one example: The good folks here at Grace have been updating the 1970’s-era kitchen in the parsonage. Everything was torn back to the bare walls and rebuilt…new wiring and lighting, mostly new appliances, new cupboards and counters and floors…everything. The very skilled folks of this place have been doing the work themselves on nights and weekends, and they’ve been very particular about doing it well. It’s going to be wonderful. But it has been going on for more than 14 weeks, which is long enough to make one weary of not having a kitchen. Consequently, my attitude toward the project hasn’t been the most thankful or charitable…especially for the last month or so.

On the other hand: I just found out that our friend Val gets to move back home tomorrow. She was flooded out of her North Dakota parsonage back on May 23, and has been “making do” ever since. Needless to say, she’s pretty excited and thankful to be back in her own place.

The difference between these two scenarios helps me understand why thanksgiving…real thanksgiving…is so darned hard: in my sinfulness, I find it difficult to get out of my own way long enough to understand how truly blessed I am. Luther (after Augustine) identifies this as living in se curvatus, i.e. turned in on oneself, and it’s the headline symptom for the sinful life. I seem to be infected.

The cure for this infection, of course, has already been delivered. It is a gracious Savior whose redeeming work among us begins by unfolding our self-centered lives so that we might grasp both our own deep need and the emergent beauty of a cosmos being set right by unmerited and unrelenting grace. This wider and more genuine perspective on life cannot help but yield awe and thanksgiving.

Truth is: most of the time I don’t realize how good I have it. (I’m convinced, by the way, that I’m not alone in this flaw.) So thanks be to God for a glimpse of reality. And thanks be to God for Val’s homecoming. And thanks be to God for a new kitchen, and committed craftsmen, and the willingness to take the time to do things well. And thanks be to God for the opportunity to be shaped not by some anxiety about what’s missing in our lives, but by the wonder of what we have already been given.

You read it here; I won’t be posting it on Facebook.

We are one...

This past weekend, Ebenezer Lutheran Church…a sister ELCA congregation in San Francisco…held their 5^th annual Faith and Feminism conference. Certainly, the church catholic has not always heard or valued the voices of women. So opening the church to the witness and experience of women seems like a reasonable, indeed necessary, move.

Where things get dicey, however, is when the local high priestess for the pagan goddess Isis is invited to conduct a workshop, or when the treasured prayers of the church, e.g. the Lord’s Prayer, gets re-written, or when the liturgy no longer leads worshipers before the Holy Trinity but invites them into relationship with the divine feminine or Christ-Sophia. 

Hmmm.

I know. These folks are 2000 miles away from me. What should I care? But I do care. For one thing, we ostensibly share the same theological commitments as congregations of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. We are partners in the mission work of this denomination…not simply isolated local congregations. I take seriously that partnership. But I wonder how or if that partnership can continue where syncretism (not just bad local theology) seems to be the order of the day.

One of the great temptations that has come out of the ELCA’s recent actions concerning sexuality and ministry has been for local congregations to withdraw into themselves…not leaving the denomination, but ignoring the changes in policy, reducing or eliminating their financial support, and satisfying themselves with the notion that “they can’t tell us what to do” or “it won’t happen here.” I think I understand how this idea becomes plausible.

But it is, ultimately, misguided. The church is not a stand-alone operation. Like it or not, we are connected to one another in the sharing of Christ’s mission in the world. Our communities likely do not need just another idiosyncratic local service club. They need the grand story of the Gospel lived out by the whole Church for the sake of the world God loves so deeply.

Which means…rather than retreating into ourselves as though we can ignore the issues which challenge us, this is a time for the Church to get serious about the Good News which is Christ’s gift and challenge to us. We must ask hard questions about rival theologies and dubious spiritual practices. We must take loving responsibility for one another so that we might speak the one Word, even though it be through many voices.

Inside Out...

It’s annoying when it happens to socks and t-shirts.  You pull them out of the dryer and go to put them on, only to find out that all the tossing and tumbling has turned them inside out.  Not a good way to start the day. Grrr.

But sometimes, turning things inside out is helpful. The image that comes to mind is that of a sack or storage bag that needs to be cleaned. We have one of these in our pantry that we use for storing onions. About the only way to clean it is to turn it inside out so that all the dirt and onion skins that have accumulated on the inside can be removed. And when that’s done, it’s a good as new...ready for the next batch of onions.

I wonder: Is it possible that churches need to be turned inside out occasionally, too. Here’s what I’m getting at.

For a long time, we in the church have been convinced that our number one job was to get more people into the church. It makes sense in a way. If this is where God is celebrated, wouldn’t we want more folks to be a part of that celebration?

The problem is that, over the past 1700 years or so, this focus on attracting people to the church has nearly blotted out the fact that our real number one job is to be the body of Christ in the world, i.e. to be Christ...to carry on the mission of Christ. Rather than getting people to join the church, our job is (in fact) to be Christ’s servant church. And that means turning things inside out...not focusing so much on getting folks in the door as we focus on getting the church out into the world, doing what Christ calls us to do: healing, praying, teaching, loving, giving of ourselves so that others may come to Christ and live.

Inside-out church. Hmm. There’s an idea that has some potential. Start with this question: how are you Christ to others in your daily life? Where has God put you to be his missionary? With whom are you sharing the Good News?

I think we need to talk about this some more. Stay tuned.   

Trust in...

Just finished reading an article (here) detailing the back-and-forth, point-and-blame dance currently underway in Washington concerning the federal budget. The only two things I learned from reading this article are 1) it's politics as usual in D.C., and 2) the dosage on my blood pressure medicine may need to be raised. In the interest of full disclosure: I'm not a one-issue whiner. I have a similar reaction to arguments about SB5, public school funding in Ohio, and the on-going conversation about sexuality and ministry policy in my denomination (the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America).

In times like these, I turn to Jeremiah (not the Bible's happiest camper, BTW)...not because he is a cynic, but because he tells the truth: "Cursed are those who trust in mere mortals and make mere flesh their strength ... Blessed are those who trust in the Lord, whose trust is the Lord." (Jeremiah 17:5-9 is the place to read.)

My problem? (OK) One of my problems? I expect that we human beings are going to be able to resolve the problems and issues we've made between us. I expect that we'll behave with decency, civility and charity in the process. Then I get really disappointed when it turns out that we won't and seemingly can't. And then I get depressed when it turns out that (honesty is the best policy here) I'm no better at this than anyone else.

Guess I'd better stick to Jeremiah's advice and trust in the Lord...indeed, to trust in what God has already done in Christ Jesus. Salvation sure isn't happening on my watch. Only a death and a resurrection can do what needs done...unbinding us from the sub-human desire to trust something less than God for the deliverance we so desperately need.

We've been given a new life, folks...a second chance. Rather than blow it on the same old sins, let's take this opportunity to submit our world and ourselves in joyful obedience to the One who loves nothing more than creating gardens and raising the dead...a whole world after Jeremiah's (God's) vision: deeply rooted, leafy green and full of fruit.

Who We Are...

One of the first things we do in the class preparing for Holy Communion is to figure out who we are. It's a simple exercise. I ask the children to write down as many of their "identities" as they can imagine: son or daughter, niece or nephew, student, friend, 4-H member, singer, grandchild, etc. The list is usually pretty long. But then we add one more...if it's not already there: Child of God. And we celebrate...giving thanks to the God who names us, claims us, loves us and feeds us.

We seem to have spent a lot of time during these days after Epiphany talking about identity. Primarily, it's been about Jesus' identity...Lamb of God, Son of God, Rabbi, Messiah, Savior, Healer, the One who bestows blessing. A part of what we learn from this is God's identity, too, as we realize that it is in and through Jesus, the God made visible, we come to know and love the heavenly Father whom we cannot see.

But more: we are given insights into our own identity in this process. We are the Father's beloved children, not fearful slaves of an angry judge. We are formed as body of Christ, not just individual believers. We are the means by which God's mission continues to unfold in the world...and not merely consumers of religious stuff like sermons, anthems, and a bit of bread and wine on Sunday morning when we feel like it.

Hmm. It turns out that who we are is pretty important. Taking seriously who we are is the difference between being Church and merely going to church. Our identity as children/body/mission means that the Spirit is at work, lending perspective on the world and our place in it, and granting us the privilege of sharing in God's own holy prejudice towards reconciliation and new life.

Of course it's more complicated than this, but...if there is a single, primary reason why the Church finds itself increasingly irrelevant and marginalized in today's culture, I'm convinced it's largely because we've forgotten who we are. Whenever we settle for being the moral police force or the local ritual store or just another club with fine ethics but an inability to live up to them, we sell ourselves short.

Sisters and brothers, we are the body of Christ, the beloved of God who get to be (by grace, to be sure) the redemptive and transformative love of God in, of and for the world. And lest that sound too grand, remember: this is a love that works itself out not only in big, flashy projects, but in every mundane and countless word and deed: from forgiveness given and received between old enemies to the kiss on your grandchild's forehead...from tears shared with a grieving friend to the feeding of a hungry neighbor.

This is who we are: Body. Mission. Children. Those who, though dead, have been raised to live in freedom and love. May we never forget it.

Going Down?

There was an article in a recent issue of Christian Century magazine that tracked attendance patterns among four large mainline Christian denominations, including the ELCA. (Check out the link on our Facebook page.) As you might guess, the news isn’t good. Since 2001, fewer folks are attending worship...and those who are attending are doing so less frequently. The result is that many congregations...and the denominations of which they are a part...are slowly withering away.

The reasons for this (or at least the opinions as to the reasons for this) are legion and often contradictory: changing social habits, conflicted and drab congregations, a faithless retreat from traditional values and teachings, a stubborn clinging to traditional values and teachings, folks who just attend out of habit, not enough discipline among young people, kids’ sports on Sundays, etc., etc. There’s probably at least a grain of truth in most of these (and the many others unmentioned here). But simply finding something to blame...while it might make us feel good for a moment...doesn’t move us forward.

Grace, of course, is not immune to these challenges...even though we’ve seen modest growth in worship attendance and excellent financial support for our ministries. We should not take for granted that this will last forever. So how can we buck the national trend? Here are a couple thoughts:

First: let’s be honest about the fact that being Christian in American society is not automatic or inevitable. We are a pluralistic culture with a lot of options by which folks can work out their spirituality, and many of those options are not Christian. The person who visits on Sunday morning may not really be looking for church. They may be looking for help or taking the first step in a long search for hope and meaning. How, then, shall we welcome them?

Second: we must remember that the church is not a place; it is a people. Yes, I know that we’ve already heard that (and probably could sing a Bible school song or two about it). But our behaviors and language betray us. We talk about where we go to church, rather than who we are as church. This is not just word play; it’s a huge difference in attitude. For example: I go to Meijer to buy groceries, but sometimes I go to Miller’s. Places (while they may be important) are not as powerful as our identity as a people. Who I am...my identity as a brother in Christ with all of you...is a more powerful, attractive and faithful concept than location. We don’t just go to “the barn church on 51;” we are the barn church on 51.

And finally (for now): since identity is so important, than so too are the relationships we build and the purpose which binds us together. It’s a fact: We are the body of Christ in this place, joined to each other in love and in the greater purpose of living God’s good news for the sake of our neighbors and our world. That’s good news. I’ve never met anyone who didn’t want the gratification of being part of something greater than himself. Human beings are built for purpose and relationship. So how perfect is it that purpose and relationship are precisely what the church is all about? Do you suppose God knew that as He shaped the church?

Well...I’m out of space, and have just scratched the surface. But let’s make this a topic of conversation: How can we more faithfully be the purposeful, relational, and thus attractive community God has called and made us to be? As we begin to answer this question, I’m sure we’ll discover that the church is not “going down.” Instead, we are being called to a continuing reformation...one that enables us to speak the Gospel ever more clearly to the world around us. That sounds pretty exciting.

This is fun...

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MTD: Is It Good Enough for Me?

“MTD” is short-hand for “moral therapeutic deism.” It’s the term adopted by Kenda Creasy Dean, a professor at Princeton and author of the book Almost Christian. She argues that more and more young people in Christian churches are embracing a watered-down, not really Christian faith that doesn’t reject basic Christian beliefs, but doesn’t encourage them either. Instead MTD affirms that “God” created the world and is available to help you feel better when you’re down...but otherwise stays out of the way. God wants us to be nice and happy. The God of MTD says that good people go to heaven. That’s about all there is to it. And while these might be common assumptions about Christianity, they certainly aren’t the rich historic claims of the faith passed down through the ages.

So why are kids embracing this wimpy version of the faith? Maybe it’s because the Church doesn’t take their faith development seriously enough.

Consider: How often do the adults in charge bend over backwards to get the kids to tutors, coaches, practices, and games to make sure that they learn or even excel in everything from algebra to dance to hockey? Yet the name of the game for religion is usually just to “expose” kids to faith...and hope they soak something up. Far from the radical commitments of the first disciples, we often assume that the kids are doing OK if they make a few good friends at youth group, have fun at camp, learn how to be nice, and avoid drugs and premarital sex.

So...what do we do about this? I don’t think we know for sure. Some researchers are seeing a new passion among young people who want a faith that matters in a world that seems so off balance. Others worry about a decline in Christianity in this country that will bring faith practices here to the same low levels seen in Europe for decades. While I’m glad to hear about that new passion, I’m concerned that failing faith is the more likely outcome. Some action seems appropriate.

And a place to start might be with an examination of our own faith as adults. Do we understand for ourselves why the Christian faith makes any real difference in our lives or in the world? We could probably define concepts like “nice” and “good”...but what about “grace” or “discipleship”? Add to this the fact that more and more of us adults grew up outside the Church or on the same watered-down version of the faith. Plus, those who are supposed to be in charge of spiritual formation (clergy-types like me and lay leaders, too), have not always done a very good job of teaching and modeling the faith either.

So...now what?

Call me a cock-eyed optimist, but I truly believe that, at least in our own little corner of the world, we and the Holy Spirit can make a difference. So here’s a deal. I promise that you will hear the Good News of Jesus Christ and that you will have the opportunity to learn and grow in the faith every time you come here on Sunday morning (and Wednesday evening, for that matter). Grace will (continue to) be a place where the faith is clearly and enthusiastically taught and lived for adults and youth and children alike.

For your part: you need to be here...ready to worship and learn and grow...ready to make our shared faith a living priority. I have no doubt that, in so doing, our kids will grow stronger right along with us.

The assumption here, of course, is that the faith of our young people is important to us. I’m going to make that assumption because I have seen in you (talking to the folks at Grace here) an innate desire to give your children the very best you can. And what could be better than a sturdy, working faith in the God who calls and sends each new generation into the world with the Gospel. We can do better; MTD is not good enough. This is an opportunity, brothers and sisters. Let’s seize it.

(Thanks to Jay McDivitt, a pastor at Grace Lutheran Church in Thiensville, WI, for the meat of this article.)

Branded...

We had an interesting conversation at the Suds & Salvation back on June 29…exploring how Christianity “competes” in a world full of all kinds of brands that make all kinds of promises about how to improve (or save) your life.

We live in a branded society. No big surprise there. Over the past 50 years, corporations (both for-profit and non-profit) have shifted their strategic efforts as much or more to the attention of brand identities as to improvements in the actual products and services they sell or provide. In a very real sense, the brand has become the product; we purchase the brand as much as the branded object. Product performance used to be enough; now it’s personality that counts. The brand is the single most important asset of any company, and its management is a primary concern.

By focusing on branding, companies hope to make their logos into a lifestyle, an image, an identity, or a set of values. Brands should, at their best, emote a distinct persona which will be taken on with zeal by consumers. When it works at its best, a brand will colonize the mental space inside each of us. They are meant to win share of mind for a particular proposition, thus influencing the choices we make about our identity. So it is: our relationship to the brands we buy has an influence on who we are as persons.

Christians recognize, however, that there is another brand at work in the world. This brand is one you cannot purchase at any price. It comes to us entirely as a gift. It is traced upon us in anointing oils at Holy Baptism or in times of illness and need. It is retraced in ashes at the beginning of Lent, and marked again on us every Sunday…perhaps even every morning when we rise. This brand…the mark of the cross…comes only as a gift from a loving God. And, like the secular brands that are as omnipresent for us as the air we breathe, it is about a way of life that identifies us…in this case, with the very life of God in Christ Jesus.

Dear sisters and brothers, we are called to think about what we purchase, what we give space to in our lives. So it's reasonable to ask: where and how is the Christ brand visible upon, within and through us?

Dancing with the Stars...

So…who won? I missed the final show and am so out of touch. *sigh*

Actually, I’m not much of a reality TV fan, even though I did see some of American Idol this year (thank you, Crystal) and even several bits of the dancing excitement. That’s probably why it is still in my head as I’m thinking back on this past weekend’s consideration of the Holy Trinity.

Trinity is such an obscure and difficult notion. As a preacher, I struggle with it every year. (The folks at Grace can attest to that.) But there is something simple, elegant and engaging at the very core of all the theological constructions about imminent and economic relationships…something as simple as a peasant dance of joy.

The Greek word often used to describe this mystery is “perichoresis.” It literally means “to dance around.” And by that I don’t mean “to dance around the meaning of the Trinity.” I mean, literally, to join hands and dance in a big circle…kind of like the celebration at the end of “My Big, Fat, Greek Wedding.” Indeed, all the theological consternation and literary back-flips come down to this: God, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, in an extravagance unimagined by the human mind, has invited you to dance…to join hands in love and life and celebration so that the joy which first spilled over into the created order might come shining through in our lives, too.

Here’s reality for you…dancing with the stars and angels and saints in the embrace of the Almighty. In a sense, it’s what we already do each time someone is washed at the font and each time we gather around Christ’s table…each time we lift our hearts in prayer and our hands in praise. We take hold of one another as God’s fellow beloved. And we dance the divine mission into the world for the sake of its reconciliation to One who loved it always and loves it still.

Dear friends, the music plays on. And the Holy One invites: may I have this dance?

Living amidst a culture of death...

Did you know that it's possible to make an apple into a bong? Or that you can cook meth in a 2L bottle? Or that you can buy (on-line) what looks like a Bible, except with the inside hollowed out as a safe place to hide your stash?

Listen. I get that plenty of folks...especially young people...engage in all kinds of dangerous behavior. And I understand that there are lots of creative ways to cover-up what's going on. Believe it or not, I was once young myself...and did plenty of stupid stuff. But with the advent of internet information sharing and social media, the stakes seem to have gotten a lot higher than when I was a kid. All the while, the society in which we live seems to glorify things that aren't just illegal, but things that could kill you. And too many "responsible" folks turn away...just not wanting or just not ready to acknowledge the problems.

This is not a harangue about how terrible things are. This is a plea for change.

Dear young people (and I'm talking chiefly, but not exclusively, to the ones who claim Grace as their spiritual home): don't fall for it. There are better, healthier, more beautiful things to do than risk your life for the thrill of cool or a momentary high.

Dear parents: when was the last time you had a good conversation with your kid in their room...or told them you loved them...or held hands and gave thanks to God over the dinner table? BTW...how's your own moral decision-making? What do you need help with? Are you willing to get it?

Dear community: who says we have to put up with the continuous assault on decency, civility and a good social mores? Sure...no place will be perfect. But it is possible to decide that this will be a community that treasures and encourages the raising of healthy children. And it is possible to be better than we are.

At least for Christians, we need not give into the despair of the age. We know another story...the rising of life out of death. And by the grace of God, we are given each new day to live out that resurrection...a chance to make better choices, to love more deeply those around us, and to respond to the wider world with a message of hope and joy that is the best preventative medicine of all.

Perhaps this is our call...to be life in the midst of a culture of death. Are you ready for that?

Hard to let go...

So...it's January 12, and there is Christmas music playing in my office. Over the past several days, I've re-read Luke 2:1-20 and John 1:1-14 several times. The tree is still up in our house...and until last night, we'd been lighting it at sundown. For some reason, I'm having a hard time this year moving past Christmas.

Before you psycho-analyze too deeply: It's not that I'm overwhelmed by nostalgia or hiding in some happy memories to the avoidance of daily difficulties (although there are plenty of those). No...for some reason, I simply find myself awestruck at the very thought of a God who would obligate himself to his own handiwork, for that indeed is what we are confronted with in the Word Made Flesh. There is no need for God to behave this way. The stunning reality is that God chooses to do this for the sake of love...a love that will not let us go.

Consequently, I find myself unable to let go...stuck at manger-side, next to the shepherds and Mary, the saints and voyeurs of every century...all of whom struggle to comprehend what God is doing...completely taken by this tiny one who is Lord of all. Put on another Christmas CD. Then come, let us adore him still.

For the moment...

How much time do you have?

The answer, of course, is “I don’t know.” None of us knows for certain the day or hour when our life on this earth will end. Oh sure…we can manipulate the system to a certain extent. Plenty of exercise and rest. Good diet. You know the routine. But all the bran muffins or deep knee bends in the world won’t change the inevitable. We are mortal, and we will die.

The subject is close to my heart as I come to grips with the death of a friend and teacher. The earthly end for John came suddenly and at what seems more and more like an early age. It simply drives home the point that there are limits…that not everything is within our control.

Better, then, to concentrate on those things which we can influence. Better, then, to focus less time and anxiety on our dying and more on the value of our living.

On July 13 back in 1989, our neighbor passed away. She was in her mid-twenties…a bright and lively young woman who taught in the nearby Catholic elementary school. She went in for what was supposed to be routine surgery and died on the operating table.

Her death was a wake-up call for me…a big dose of my own mortality. It became clear that it was time to quit running away, and to do what I had sensed for some time was my true vocation. Over the course of the next year, I quit my job, the Mrs. and I sold the house, loaded up our kids and all our worldly possessions, and moved six hours away so that I could go to seminary. Twenty years later I look back on that watershed moment, and am thankful to God...not for the loss, but for the opportunity it bore.

The point is to make the most of what we have. Life is a gift…not a possession. Today is ours because a gracious God has willed it to us. And something about who we are is evident in how we choose to spend the gift of each precious day.

John spent his days well. He was a powerful blessing to those around him. I’m hoping that, at least on balance, the gift of life I’ve been given will eventually be regarded the same way.

And I urge you to join me in this. Oh sure…pass the muffins. Take a hike. Don’t forget your vitamins. Better yet: live today as fully and faithfully as you can. It is what you can do to thank God for the moment.

Not for wimps...

Christianity, that is. It's not for wimps. Taking the Gospel into the world means running headlong into the rejection and disregard that have been traveling companions for the good news ever since the beginning. It's that whole cross thing. Want to be a Christian? Then you better look good on wood, as the old saying goes.

...which is one of the reasons why we take our kids to Confirmation Camp.

That was last week's adventure: five days of running around the hills and woods at LMC. It's a great place staffed by good, faithful folks who have the awesome responsibility of sharing the faith with little kids and teenagers. It's a lot of fun...everything from cannonball contests at the pool to silly songs at campfire. And it's a place to be tested instead of coddled...to learn that you can do more than you ever thought possible.

Have you ever climbed a rock wall? For the lean, lanky and athletic, it's a matter of reaching the next hand-hold and scampering up. But for most kids, it's a real challenge. Fear of heights. Fear that the folks on the rope might not be able to hold me. Fear that my legs and arms just aren't strong enough to hang on. Fear that I'll fail in front of my peers. It's a risk just to decide to do it.

And it's a risk that every one of our kids took. They worked hard. They trusted the folks who were holding them even when they couldn't see them. They discovered a group of friends who screamed their encouragement when letting go seemed like the best option and cheered them at the end. They didn't quit...and in the process learned that they're tougher and more able than they thought they were.

I'm glad we go to camp and do Bible study and play games and swim and sing. But I'm especially glad that we go to camp to push ourselves...to try something new and seemingly dangerous...to go places where we wouldn't ordinarily go, and learn to trust that it's going to be OK in the end...that God has a hold of the rope, and he's not letting go.

Someplace...somehow...we need to learn to trust that. Why? Because it's true. Because it's the strength we need to live. Because following after Jesus can be a tough business. Because Christianity isn't for wimps.

Beautiful distraction...

We worshiped outside yesterday...underneath the oaks and beeches of the parsonage back yard. Clear, blue sky. Gentle breeze. Couldn't have asked for a more beautiful day...just glorious.

And just one problem. There's an oriole living at the wood's edge...and boy, can he sing loud. All the way through the prelude...all the way through the sermon...all the way through the entire liturgy...this silly bird was perched high up behind the altar, warbling like it was his day job.

More than a few folks commented afterward that it was wonderful, but a bit distracting. "Every time you opened your mouth, Pastor, that bird would just sing louder," was one comment delivered with a grin. Upstaged by a bird. Hmmm.

Or maybe not. Perhaps we were the ones intruding. The woods, after all, is the birds' home...not ours. It's probably foolish to think that we can set up shop out there as though we belong. Indeed...it may have been our songs...our words...that were the real distraction.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not one of those "humans are no better than insects" kind of folks. Neither am I ready to give up our worship times in the back yard. But it would be a good thing for us to go into that space mindful of the One to whom it truly belongs...and to be ready to join in the worship that the birds, the flowers and the trees are themselves already busy rendering unto God.

We sing the canticle on Easter Vigil: "All you works of the Lord, bless the Lord." Maybe we need to be singing it (or at least remembering it) on those magnificent Sunday mornings when we get to sing with the birds.

Failure is not an option...

A friend reminded me of that quote today…attributed to Gene Krantz, flight director for the ill-fated Apollo 13. (For those of you who are either too young or haven’t seen the movie, the crew and ship were almost lost because of a malfunction in the ship’s service module.) When men’s lives are in jeopardy and a blockbuster movie is in the making, I suppose that failure is not an option. At least not one we care to entertain.

But let’s be honest here. Failure is always a distinct possibility. Things go wrong…sometimes spectacularly, like when oxygen tanks blow gaping holes in space ships. Sometimes, however, it’s just the pile of little things gone sideways that can leave us staring at the mess in which we sit. And when (not if, but when) that happens, we can learn a lot about ourselves by how it is that we react to the situation.

Reaction 1: we can find fault and fix blame. This seems to be the most fashionable response. Take a glance at our current economic and political scene, if you need an example. Finger-pointing, innuendo and despair are as common as hot air in Washington. Does this solve anything? No. But we’re under the impression that it makes us feel better for a few minutes, assured that it wasn’t me who screwed up but that ^*#$%@ from the other office/party/administration/etc.

Reaction 2: we can decide that failure isn’t the end of the road. This, it seems to me, is the most faithful reaction for Christians. After all, we claim one as Lord who was, in many respects, a dismal failure. I mean, really: you can’t fail much bigger than by getting yourself hung up naked and killed. Turns out, however, that what looked initially like a resounding “F” merely opened the door for an “A+” that we could never have imagined.

Now…I’m not suggesting that we should invite failure, or that we should not do our best to succeed at whatever tasks are set before us. But we should not let our failures and our foibles stifle us or keep us from moving forward towards whatever God has in mind for us. Since we’re not perfect, we’re going to need the Lord to get us there anyway. And, thanks be to God, giving us the future seems precisely what God has in mind.

So, lighten up. Relax. Do your best for the sake of the Christ who loves you. Then let it go and let God be god. Whether our projects fail or succeed is not nearly so important as whether or not we are faithful to the one who walks with us every step of the way.

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?