Breathing Space

"Silent Night, Lonely Night: Christmas in Pandemic"

2020-12-24T09:51:00.000-05:00

Silver starlight descends with the snow as

aged hands light Christmas candles,

alone at home though her family is near.

Tears trickle with liquid love, reliving holidays past,

with children and grandchildren gathered

in a cacophony of grownup laughter,

baby's cries, childhood play, and teenage angst.

But not this year.

Now, she is alone in her silent night,

lonely night, lonely night.

Two doors down the dawn will come

to babies she will not see.

Little feet will race down stairs,

delighted squeals above the sound of tearing paper.

But not for her.

This year has taken many things from her:

ability to travel,

pure breath free from the filter of a mask,

financial security,

social stability.

But the greatest toll is being alone

on this silent night, lonely night, lonely night.

Her mind reaches back to a couple, young,

frantic in their need in that quiet Judean town,

turned away from human dwelling,

alone beneath the light of a single star.

Amid the agony of labor,

a young woman pleads for her mother who isn't there.

Filled with desperation,

a young man yearns for the steady hand of his father,

nowhere to be seen.

They, too, feel socially distant, isolated.

Silver starlight descends on angel wings as

Joseph kindles his lamp in the stable

alone among beasts, though people are near.

Even shepherds keep their distance when they visit,

faces hidden beneath their scarves,

because they are called unclean.

Tears trickle with liquid love, celebrating this present moment,

grateful for what he does have:

the warmth of a stable, the love of his wife,

a newborn child,

in a cacophony of stable sound,

and it is enough

on this silent night, lonely night, lonely night.

Grandma's heart reaches to the tent city

surrounded by bustling town,

figures huddling beneath discarded layers

of thin tarpaulin, wet cardboard, and sodden clothes.

Turned away from human dwelling,

alone beneath the light of a neon sign.

A cacaphony of souls scream in the night,

a bit of raucous laughter,

others cursing ghosts of the mind,

still more finding solace in strangers' arms

or the warmth and oblivion of a pipe.

Silver starlight descends with visiting angels

who bear no gold, frankincense, or myrrh,

but whose treasures smell like coffee,

protect like masks and wipes,

and feel like love.

So Grandma puts on angel's wings, which look like PPE.

Leaving her warmth to join the Seraphim,

she shares her manna of blankets and smiles.

Keen ears listen to well-traveled stories from a safe distance

as hot tears warm her cheeks with liquid love.

It's Christmas in pandemic,

but change is in the air.

The Star shines as it hasn't done in centuries,

and hope for the nations wispers peace

to a weary and war-torn world.

"No room at your inn," say the mandates from above.

So Grandma takes her love outside

and gives,

behind mask, at a distance,

but gives,

on this silent night, lovely night, holy night.

After the Election - "Now What" for Christians?

2020-11-07T18:55:00.000-05:00

Today, after the election, many Christians are asking themselves, "Now what?" Prior to the vote, believers on both sides of the aisle declared that you can't call yourself a Christian if you vote for the opposite party. Many Evangelicals voted Republican, believing Trump to be God's anointed man for the presidency, and the defender of conservative family values. Yet many Jesus-followers supported the election of Joe Biden, believing their candidate to represent dignity and wisdom, as well as the love of Jesus for the outcast and the poor. Much as Confederate and American brothers prayed to the same God as they battled against each other in the Civil War, believers on both sides of this election claimed to be right. No matter whether your candidate won or lost the election, Christians across America are asking themselves, "Now what?"

The answer: Act like Jesus. But what does this mean? What would (or wouldn't) Jesus do, in the aftermath of a contentious election? If you, as a Christian, want to act like Jesus (which shold be the ultimate goal of every believer), what should (or shouldn't) you do?

1. Don't gloat. If your candidate won, it's fine to party, to celebrate, to cry tears of joy, to dance in the streets. After all, when the disciples told Jesus about their defeat of the devil's forces in His name, Jesus said:

I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven. Behold, I have given you authority to tread on snakes and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy. Nothing will harm you. Nevertheless, do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven (Luke 10:18-20).

Jesus recognized, and even enjoyed the victory that his followers celebrated--but he encouraged them to focus on the good things to come in the future, rather than the demonic nature of their spiritual enemy. I believe Jesus would tell Christians who voted for Biden not to gloat, but to celebrate and look to a brighter future.

2. Don't complain. Many Evangelicals who claimed Donald Trump was God's choice for the presidency actually believed him to represent the character of Christ. Others saw Trump's racism, sexism, homophobia, xenophobia, lies, and deceptions, but likened him to wicked biblical kings like Saul and Cyrus. Even though those biblical kings had their flaws, those Evangelicals claimed that God put them in office to accomplish particular things. Similarly, they believed Trump to be God's anointed, as evidenced by the fact that he won the election over Hilary Clinton. If you believed that Trump's election was evidence that God put him in office, then don't complain now--since, according to your logic, Trump's defeat ought to indicate that he lost God's mandate. So if your candidate lost, don't complain--just trust that if God chose Trump four years ago, God chose Biden in 2020.

3. Love your enemies. If you refuse to gloat or complain, that will go a long way toward acting in a loving way towards those people who you may have considered your political enemies. Besides loving them, Jesus told His followers to pray for those who persecute them. Do you feel like the other side has been absolutely horrible? Do you feel like they deserve to feel that way? Maybe you're right--but Jesus expects His followers to treat other people with the same grace that they have received from God. As in grace, God treats us better than we deserve, so believers ought to treat their enemies better than they deserve, as well.

4. Make peace. These times have been so divisive, and have been filled with such hate and violence on both sides. Now is our opportunity to make peace. Jesus said, "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God (Matthew 5:9)." It's time to reach across the lines and take the hands (metaphorically, because--pandemic) of the people who see things radically differently from you. In Matthew 12:25, Jesus said, "Every kingdom divided against itself will be ruined, and every city or household divided against itself will not stand." These are tough enough times for the church, without the body of Christ being divided. We need the whole body, undivided, to do the work of God.

5. Continue to Confront Evil. Yes, God is love, but "Gentle Jesus, Meek and Mild" is just a song title. Jesus wasn't afraid to cast out demons, confront religious and civil authorities, or overturn the tables of economic corruption. The apostle Paul said, "If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all (Romans 12:18)." But sometimes it doesn't depend on us. Sometimes others bring the conflict, and other times the evil is so aggregious that Christians can't ignore it in good conscience. So, if you call yourself a follower of Jesus, continue to confront evil by opposing injustice. Stand in solidarity with people of color who are rising up, insisting that their lives matter. Become an ally for LGBTQIA+ folks, who have to fight for their most basic human rights. Defend the families of the poor, the alien, the stranger. As the prophet said, "Let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream (Amos 5:24)!"

For followers of Jesus, it's really important that we ask ourselves, "Now what?" Because the church has been so divided and divisive that the rest of the world looks at us and says, "So what?" So what, if you call yourself Christians, if you say you love your enemy, but don't even love your neighbor? So what, if you say you believe you've received God's grace, but won't even give it to others? So what, if you claim to have the answers that the world needs to hear, if you can't even get along with each other long enough to ask the right questions together? So, after the election, "Now what?" Don't gloat. Don't complain. Love your enemies. Make peace. Continue to confront evil. Because in the words of Galatians 5:6, "the only thing that matters is faith working through love."

Photo Credits:

"Fallen NJ Marine returns home" by NYCMarines is licensed under CC BY 2.0

"Athens, Alabama KKK (Ku Klux Klan) Rally and Counter-Protests September 2007" by Gregory.Skibinski is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

A Different Path to the Voting Booth

2020-11-03T10:24:00.001-05:00

"Something told me go a different way," he told me, "and I started to--but then I turned around and went the same way I usually go. That's when I had the accident."

I could identify with my friend who told this story, because I've had similar things happen to me. Maybe it sounds familiar to you, too.

Another friend told me that she was walking home from college night classes, going throught an inner city campus. Something in her spirit prompted her that she should walk a different route than she usually followed through the dark streets. She didn't think anything of it, until she arrived home to watch the 11:00 news. That night, along the street that she would normally have walked, and about the same time, somebody had been assaulted and mugged. I'm not saying that God saved her and didn't save the other person--that gets into some weird theological problems. But I am saying was that her own spirit was sensitive to the things the Holy Spirit already knew--and she chose to listen to this intiuitive voice.

I could give hundreds more examples, but I think you get the picture. You normally follow one path, and something tells you to turn aside and go a different way. Either you listen and things turn out well, or you don't listen, and disaster results.

In the Hebrew Scriptures, Moses was going along his merry way, tending his father-in-law's flocks, having no notion of being a national savior. He was just walking down a mountain road, minding his own business, when he saw a burning bush. The shepherd had to make a decision--to step out of his usual behavior and get spiritually curious, or to continue as usual. He said, "I must turn aside and see this strange sight (Exodus 3.3)." The rest is history.

In the New Testament, Saul of Tarsus was on a different road, to Damascus. As a religious zealot, he'd found it his duty to persecute this new sect of Christians--and he was on his way to do just that. Then God spoke to him out of a blinding light, and changed his life. Saul realized that he'd misunderstood Jesus all along, and that the good he thought he'd been doing was not only harming God's people, but caused God pain as well. So he changed. Yes--he changed. Right there in the road, he decided to take a different path.

Today, as you're on your way to the voting booth, I invite you to listen to the voice of God. Ask God what you should do when you cast your ballot. This is such an important election--it's too important to just vote the way you have always voted, or to select a candidate because your family and friends are all doing the same thing. Ask Jesus what He thinks about the candidates--and which candidate most embodies the love of Christ. Then, vote the way the Spirit leads.

This may mean taking a different path from the way you've always gone. You may end up voting for a party you've never voted for. You could end up voting against a candidate you supported in the past. But remember--this isn't about staying stubbornly in the rut you've worn for such a long time. It's about taking a different path, if that's what God sets before you. You may never know the disaster that you avoid, by deciding to go a different way. Like Saul, you may lose friends because of the change you make. But deciding to follow Jesus, rather than following what the religious leaders tell you to do, will make all the difference. It will set you, and this nation, on a path of greatest adventure--one in which not only America, but the world can be blessed.

Today, as you vote, I pray that you'll be willing to change the direction in which we've been headed. Listen, religious people, to the voice of Jesus, who says, "It's me that you've been persecuting."

"If I Were a Rich Man"

2020-09-20T13:28:00.002-04:00

One of my favourite movies of all time is Fiddler on the Roof. I always wanted to play Tevye in a stage production, throwing my hands in the air and singing, "If I were a rich man." Most of us can identify with the dreams of the poor milkman, who yearns to be be wealthy--because he doesn't believe he has enough. "One day, I'll have more," we say, "and things will be better then."

But how would it be, if we were simply graeful for what we had?

As God's people wandered in the desert, they dined on manna every day--food that they didn't have to work for, that miraculously appeared each morning. Much like Bubba Gump's shrimp, they could have it any way they wanted it. Mana burgers, boiled manna, stewed manna, manna creole, fried manna, steamed manna--the list goes on. But they weren't content with the menu that God provided. They began to sing, "If I were a rich man." "If I only had more, I'd be able to do so much more!" But, because they didn't have what they wanted, they grumbled until God gave them what they asked for. Meat on the menu. Quail came down from the heavens, blanketing the earth and providing so much meat that the people never wanted to see another squab kebab. God taught them to be grateful by giving them too much of a good thing.

In the New Testament, Jesus tells the parable of a wealthy landowner who hired workers for his fields, some in the morning, some at midday, and some in the evening. At the end of the day he paid them, and they were surprised that they each received a full day's wage. Instead of being happy for those who received what seemed like charity, those who worked a full day grumbled at the unfairness of their pay. What they probably failed to realize was that they were chosen in the morning due to their physical fitness to work a full day in the hot sun. Those who were were hired in the evening were most likely disabled people waiting on the roadside for charity. He hired them to spare their feelings by giving them the opportunity to do light work for a short time, for the same. The employer decided to expect "from each, according to their ability," and pay "to each, according to their need." But this seemed unfair to the more capable workers. When they complained, their employer simply reminded them that it was his money, to give as he pleases. Jesus told this story to illustrate that we don't always appreciate God's fairness, because our mindset has to do with merit, but God's big idea is grace.

Both of these stories focus on the ability to receive from God whatever blessings the Lord wants to provide, without grumbling that we don't have more. Instead of singing Tevye's song, we might do better to live the apostle Paul's words to his young friend Timothy. "Godliness with contentment is great gain (1 Tim 6.6)." If you're curious what you'd do if you were rich, it's probably the same as you're doing now. If you're stingy now, you'd probably hoard your wealth if you were rich. If you're generous now with what you have, then if you were wealthy, you'd most likely be like the landowner who shared with those in need. With contentment comes generosity, and the idea that people don't receive God's blessings because they deserve them, but because a gracious God wants to provide for people.

Today, I pray that you'll practice gratitude for the belessings you have received--not because you deserve them, but because God is good. I pray, too, that you'll desire good things for others--not because they deserve them, but because a good God wants to provide for all. And maybe ask yourself how you, who have been blessed, may share your manna, quail, and pay with those who are still waiting by the road.

Autopsy of a Christian Leader

2020-08-25T10:23:00.002-04:00

Another Christian leader has fallen. Some will condemn. Others will defend. Still more will celebrate. What's the best way that believers can respond when we witness moral failures among our leaders--among our members?

Certainly, appropriate measures must be taken. Decisions must be made about this leader's career. Firing or resignation is inevitible--but that's not the point. I want to talk about the possible stance that the average Christian is going to have, when news like this comes out.

One position is to attack. Attackers will spotlight hypocrisy, point fingers, and gloat. They will celebrate the downfall. Attackers will outline faults and flaws and failings, because they take joy in watching the demise of someone they dislike.

Another position is to defend. Defenders can take several approaches. Some will make excuses for their beloved leader, explaining why it's somebody else's fault. Others will downplay the offense, using the passive voice and saying, "mistakes were made." Still other defenders will employ the counter-attack, biting at liberals and secular society like a dog in a corner.

But, what if, instead of attacking or defending, we simply did an autopsy? What if we drew a chalk line around the body, examined the evidence, cut open the remains and tried to determine what caused the downfall? There's a way to both respect the body on the one hand, while pulling out the entrails with the other, eager to find the cause without either condemning or defending the man. This is the way of love.

Yes, in an odd way, it can be said that a medical examiner loves the person they are examining. They treat the body with utmost care, not wanting to damage anything that mustn't be touched except for the sake of finding the truth. They search out the facts of the case, not only so that justice can be done, but so that those who grieve might have answers. And in the hopes of learning something so that such falls might be avoided in days to come.

In the days following a Christian leader's moral failure, attackers and defenders line up and spit at each other across social and theological lines. But perhaps there's a third way--neither one of making excuses nor derisive comments. The third way is to treat the fallen with care, treat the situation as the grave thing that it is, and respectfully make the first incision. Because you won't find anything worthwhile in snide remarks or useless defenses. But finding the truth might just set us free--so that this can be laid to rest, and so that the things we learn from this might shape a better future.

*Photo credit: "autopsy tables" by reallyboring is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Tenderfooted, Tenderhearted People

2020-07-24T17:39:00.000-04:00

It's summer--time for bare feet in the grass, on the sand, and soaking in the water. But you don't want bare feet on gravel, hot pavement, or (for Die Hard fans) on broken glass. Barefooting is great in certain situations, but not in others--because even folks with calloused feet hurt themselves from time to time.

A tenderfoot is a person with unusually soft soles on their feet. The term is also used to refer to a person who is new to a job or an organization. It used to refer to people who were new to living on the frontier--city slickers who were used to wearing shoes all the time. They would be called "tenderfoot" until they had literally developed callouses on their feet, or until they had become figuratively calloused to frontier life.

Today, I think a lot of people are tenderfooted when it comes to conversational skills. It seems these days it's difficult to discuss things we hold dear, without being offended or hurting other people's feelings. Recently, somebody commented to me about how we're taught not to discuss religion or politics--but what we really need to be taught is how to have a civil conversation. We need to learn how to be sensitive to the feelings of others--and how not to have fragile feelings ourselves.

As we walk this earth, it's easy to get our feet cut by the sharp comments of others. One solution would be to cover the whole earth in bubble wrap--but that could be suffocating, couldn't it? Shantideva, the eighteenth century Indian scholar, said maybe you could cover the world with leather so that you could walk more safely. But...

"Where would there be leather enough to cover the entire world? With just the leather of my sandals, it is as if the whole world were covered. Likewise, I am unable to restrain external phenomena, but I shall restrain my own mind. What need is there to restrain anything else?"

I can't cover the world--but I can cover my feet. This means that while it's impossible to make the world a softer place, it is possible to protect my heart and mind. What's the leather I can use to cover my tender feet? It's called LOVE. By putting on love, I can keep my tender heart safe, and protect others as well. 1 Corinthians 13:4-7 (NLT) says:

Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.

Love is a power that heals the cuts and bruises made by others. It also guards your tender feet and heart so that you won't be so easily offended by people--because you'll be walking with them in Jesus' sandals instead of your own shoes. No, you can't cover the world in leather so it won't cut you. But when you cover yourself in love, God will give you angels to help you, "lest you dash your foot against a ston[y hearted person]." This means you realize that you can't change the world, but you can change yourself. You can't cover the world, but you can cover your heart and mind with love. And by doing so, you'll be able to be tread lightly among tenderfooted people, and have your heart protected, at the same time.

Photo credit: "Bare feet" by zhang_yiwei is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Photo credit: "002-365 footwear" by cukuskumir is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0

How to Have Conversations with Other Humans

2020-07-18T20:25:00.000-04:00

During COVID-19, have you forgotten how to talk with other humans? No, really--that's a serious question. If you've been quarantining, working from home, unemployed, flattening the curve, and living inside your bubble, then chances are, you've had a smaller circle of people that you're talking with lately. Social distancing isn't just staying six feet away--it's also keeping extended families apart, friends away, and made coworkers just another face on Zoom. All this isolation can make you lose your "people skills." Social media may be your primary form of communication these days. And, based on the way folks interact on those platforms, it seems all our social skills have taken a nose-dive.

Add to that, the fact that it's election season for Americans. This has increased tensions between friends and family members who may see things from different perspectives. It seems that people have forgotten how to have civil disagreement these days. So, maybe we need a refresher on how to have conversations with other humans.

Sometimes it's not WHAT is said, but HOW things are said that make the difference between a broken relationship and a healed one. I'd never suggest that you abandon your cherished opinions, but perhaps with the right OARS, we can paddle through the rough waters of difficult conversations.

In William Miller and Stephen Rollnick's counseling technique called Motivational Interviewing, practitioners utilize four key skills, called OARS. These OARS aren't just skills for counselors--they're just good communication skills for humans to have conversation with one another. The acronym stands for Open-ended questions; Affirmations, Reflections, and Summaries.

Open-Ended Questions

Instead of asking "yes" or "no" questions that invite only a simple answer, try asking questions that really elicit a detailed response. You'll learn more from the other person if you can get them talking. You might try questions like:

"Can you tell me about__________?"
"What would it look like if _______?"
"What do you think about_______?"

"Yes" or "no" questions can make people shut down instead of opening up. A good conversationalist uses open-ended questions instead.

Affirmations

Affirmations are more than compliments--because they're true. Affirmations are not flattery--they are observations and appreciations about a person or their perspective. When you give someone an affirmation, it makes them feel built-up, and it encourages them to continue the conversation. You might try:

"You really seem to value ________."
"You're really good at_________."
"I'm impressed that you___________."

Everybody likes to talk with somebody who appreciates them. Just make sure your affirmations are sincere, because flatter will get you nowhere in a genuine conversation.

Reflections

People want to know that they're heard. And you need to know that you're hearing them correctly. If you didn't understand them, you want to know that, too, so that they can clarify anything you misunderstood. You might use phrases like...

"It sounds like you're saying_________."
"It seems like____________."
"If I'm hearing you right, _______________."

When you reflect back to somebody what you think you're hearing, you can make sure that you understand them. They can also know that they're being heard. And people who feel heard want to keep on talking.

Summaries

Whether it's at the end of a conversation, or at a turning point in a conversation, it's useful to summarize what someone has been talking about. Summaries are kind of like reflections, but they are geared toward what comes next. They make good transitions--either shifting toward the end of the conversation or moving to a different topic. Summaries look like:

"We've talked about ____. What else is important to you?"
"From our conversation, I've learned ____ and ____."
"I'm glad we've established________."

Summaries help you maintain your focus in a conversation. An unfocused chat may be fine sometimes, but true understanding takes intention.

In times like these, when isolation makes you lose your "people skills" or when political tensions threaten the loss of friendships, it's important to practice good conversational skills. Talking is more than just speaking--it's listening. It's asking good questions. It's paddling skillfully through an interaction so that you enjoy the journey, see the scenery of another person's soul, and hopefully come to understanding.

Photo credit 1: "Talking on the edge in Zurich"by Alexandre Dulaunoy is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0

Photo crecit 2: "Paddle" by ArnelGenterone is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Blessed are the Pacifiers?

2020-07-08T10:27:00.002-04:00

If you're readying this, then by now you should have outgrown pacifiers. Everybody knows it's bad for your teeth, and I cringe every time I see a full-fledged child (not a baby) with a pacifier in their mouth. And, did you know that you can buy adult-sized pacifiers on Amazon? What is this world coming to?

When Jesus said, "Blessed are the peacemakers," he didn't mean pacifiers. Yes, it's true that both of these words stem from the Latin word pax, meaning "peace." But there's a vast difference between the two. When he said this, he knew that his listeners lived under the Pax Romana (Peace of Rome), a system of oppression that brought about peace through domination and oppression. So he had to make sure his hearers understood the difference beween people who make peace, and people who are pacified, or who pacify other folks.

A pacifier is something you give a baby, in order to keep them from crying. You're "peacifying" them for your own good, so you don't have to hear them scream. In this sense, it's not really peace at all--but simply the absence of noise. A pacifier is something you give a hurting or hungry baby--to shut them up. My Scottish foster sister used to call a pacifier a "dummy-tit," which is a nipple for dummies who don't know the difference between a piece of plastic and the real thing.

Jesus said, "Blessed are the peacemakers," and that's a different thing altogether. Peacemakers are NOT pacifiers. They don't throw out platitudes to keep people happy. Instead of saying, "Can't we all just get along?" real peacemakers do the hard work of actually listening to the cries of their hurting neighbors. Instead of saying, "You're hurting? I'm hurting too--let me tell you about my pain..." (a tactic designed to shut the other person up), real peacemakers simply sit and listen. Whether they agree with the story that the other person tells or not, they make sure that the really hear their neighbor, and make sure that their neighbor knows they're heard.

I've gotta admit--pacifiers are easy. When I was raising babies, I gave them all pacifiers. But pacifiers are something we should outgrow. Once a kid is old enough to talk, the pacifier should come out of their mouth. Kids need to quit using them--and adults need to quit trying to give them to young people who are fully capable of conversation. Because real dialogue is better than a pacifier.

Are you having trouble in your marriage, and this message is hitting home because you realize you've been a pacifier instead of a peacemaker? Have you been troubled by racial injustice, but you've been unable to really deal with the seismic weight of actually dealing with it--so you've been saying "all lives matter" rather than sitting down to listen to stories of black pain? Have you been changing the topic every time a friend brings up a difficult conversation, because you just don't want to deal with it? Jesus blessed the peacemakers because their courage to have a conversation leads to the kingdom of God manifesting in the lives of hurting and hungry people. I hope you'll have the guts to be a peacemaker, rather than a pacifier--that you'll take the time to listen.

Songs that Shaped Me: "Make Mea a Channel of Your Peace"

2020-06-25T19:10:00.001-04:00

Probably my greatest hero is St. Francis of Assisi. The son of a welthy merchant, he abandoned his privilege to embrace the underprivileged of society. He embraced the preople that others believed were the most untouchable, and loved those deemed the most unloveable. The little friar of Assisi has been called the most Jesus-like of all the Catholic saints. The famous Prayer of St. Francis (which may have been written by a follower instead of by Frandis himself) illustrates the gentle and humble spirit of the man:

Lord make me an instrument of your peace,

Where there is hatred let me sow love.

Where there is injury, pardon.

Where there is doubt, faith.

Where there is despair, hope.

Where there is darkness, light.

And where there is sadness, joy.

O divine master grant that I may

Not so much seek to be consoled as to console;

To be understood as to understand;

To be loved as to love

For it is in giving that we receive-

And it's in pardoning that we are pardoned.

And it's in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Amen.

This prayer has been a go-to for me when I find myself in emotionally trying times. I've found it particularly helpful when I've dealt with people who are unloveable or difficult, or those who tend to bring out the worst in my own personality. Sometimes (gasp!) I can be impatient and self-centered, prone to anger when challenging people knock me off my emotional balance. When I'm in a situation like this, I'll step aside and quietly pray this prayer. Or I'll pray it when I know I'm about to deal with a difficult person.

This prayer is unique because instead of praying FOR peace, it asks the pray-er to BECOME peace, or at least to become an intrument of peace. It takes the focus off of me and helps me to put the focus on the other person, so that I'm more interested in them than I am in myself.

In Martin Buber's book I Thou, the Jewish philosopher and theologian talks about treating people as people, rather than treating them as objects like we so often do. Instead of engaging people in "I-It" relationships, Buber recommends treating people "I-Thou." To me, the Prayer of St. Francis inspires this kind of interaction.

One of my favorite songs, "Make Me a Channel of Your Peace," was written by Sebastien Temple in 1967. Based on the Prayer of St. Francis, it inspires me to not just hope for peace, or even to work for peae, but to literally become a channel of God's peace. I offer it to you today, and hope you'll be a channel of peace, too.

Songs that Shaped Me: "The Summons"

2020-06-20T14:43:00.000-04:00

So the story goes, no sooner had my parents arrived home from their honeymoon, than the draft notice was on the door. Dad was going to Vietnam. When he received his summons, he had to go. Acccording to History.com, conscription of soldiers goes back thousands of years, and provisions for the draft were made under the Code of Hammurabi, in ancient Babylon. When you receive the summons, you have to go.

On the first day of seminary, students went around the room, telling the story of their call to ministry. Most pastors have a "call story," about how they felt that God summoned them into church work. Some told about being the children or grandchildren of pastors, and how ministry "ran in the family." Others said that the idea of being a pastor completely blindsided them--that they felt like their were drafted against their will. However we came to ministry, all of us felt called--summoned by God. When I went to seminary in 1994, The Summons was still a new song (by church standards, anyway). Its words made a huge difference in my understanding of calling. The lyrics seem to come from the heart of Jesus himself.

As a pastor, I received these words as my charter for ministry. So much that I made the song a key feature of more than one installation service at churches that I served. The summons remains--to go where I don't know, to let Christ's love be shown, and to grow in Him. To leave my self (ego) behind in order to care for both cruel and kind people, to risk the hostile stare for the sake of love. I received the summons, like my hero St. Francis, to kiss the leper clean--along with everyone who's on the fringe of society for one reason or another. Since Jesus said to "love your neighbor as yourself," this also means loving who I am. So self-exploration, self-knowledge, and self-love are important in order to do ministry. Not a love of ego--but the kind of self-assurance that allows me to reach out to others for their good, even when I risk getting my hand smacked for it. The summons of Christ calls me to use the faith I've found to reshape the world around. This is the essence of ministry--to not leave the world the way I found it, but to make it better. This applied to church ministry, and to the social work that I do today.

This summons is not just for me, or for pastors in general--it's a draft notice for all believers. You've been chosen, selected especially to be who you are--to show love to a broken world and re-form it by the power of love. If you're a Christian, I pray that the words of The Summons will resonate in your heart, and become your charter as well. If you're not a Christian, then you could hear these words from the voice of Love, as if Love were specifcally calling you to follow (because I believe Love does).

Will you come and follow me

If I but call your name?

Will you go where you don't know

And never be the same?

Will you let my love be shown,

Will you let my name be known,

Will you let my life be grown

In you and you in me?

Will you leave yourself behind

If I but call your name?

Will you care for cruel and kind

And never be the same?

Will you risk the hostile stare

Should your life attract or scare?

Will you let me answer prayer

In you and you in me?

Will you let the blinded see

If I but call your name?

Will you set the prisoners free

And never be the same?

Will you kiss the leper clean,

And do such as this unseen,

And admit to what I mean

In you and you in me?

Will you love the 'you' you hide

If I but call your name?

Will you quell the fear inside

And never be the same?

Will you use the faith you've found

To reshape the world around,

Through my sight and touch and sound

In you and you in me?

Lord, your summons echoes true

When you but call my name.

Let me turn and follow you

And never be the same.

In your company I'll go

Where your love and footsteps show.

Thus I'll move and live and grow

In you and you in me.

Copyright:

Words: 1987 WGRG, Iona Community, Glasgow, Scotland, G2 3DH (Admin. by Wild Goose Resource Group), Music: David Peacock - The Jubilate Group (Admin. by Hope Publishing Company)

Songs that Shaped Me - "Who Killed Davey Moore?"

2020-06-07T18:45:00.000-04:00

I was pretty young when I realized that I had blood on my hands. I learned that lesson from listening to Pete Seeger's version of Bob Dylan's song, "Who Killed Davey Moore?" The song is about an American boxer named Davey Moore, aka "The Little Giant" because he was only five feet, two inches tall. On March 21, 1963, Moore fought cuban boxer Sugar Ramos. After losing the bout, he conducted post-fight interviews. Later that evening, he complained of headaches, passed out, and died four days later. (Click here to learn more).

You can watch the fight footage, hear the song, and read the lyrics in the following video. At 2:36, you can see where Moore falls after hitting the base of his skull on the rope.

In Dylan's song, the referee says he's not to blame for Moore's death. If he'd stopped the fight before its end, the crowd would have booed. The crowd says it's not their fault--they just came to see a good fight. The manager denies blame, stating that if Moore was sick, he should have said. One by one, the gambling man, the sports writer, and Moore's opponent Ramos deny culpability. Dylan ends the song with the question, "Who killed Davey Moore? How come he died, and what's the reason for?"

By ending with a question, Dylan leaves us, the listeners, to ponder the answer. When we listen closely, we hear the singer's message: Yes, we all killed Davey Moore. Not one of us is innocent--we all have blood on our hands. We're part of a system that glorifies violence, and pays a premium to promote people's pain. The referees among us who might stop the fight, think instead about the disapproval of the bloodthirsty crowd. Those whose job it is to promote the violence seem to thrive off its proliferation. The media benefits from sensational stories. And we the people--we just came to see some sweat. Yes, we are the crowd. We are the manager. We are the writer. We are the opponent. So when Dylan asks his question, he leaves us to say, "Maybe it's me?" This song shaped me at a young age, because it made me realize that my hands aren't as clean as I think they are.

When Jesus told his disciples that one of them was going to betray him to death, they asked the same question. "Lord, is it I? Maybe it's me--am I the one?" Instead of pointing fingers to find someone else who's more to blame, they each had the wisdom to ask what part they might have to play in such violence. Maybe it's time for us to do the same.

In this violent world we're a part of, it's easy to say, "It's not my fault--it must be yours." We point to unjust lawmakers, crooked cops, biased media, or politicians who try to use conflict to their own advantage. And maybe they share some of the blame. But what if we did the harder thing and asked, "Lord, is it I?" What if, instead of trying to take the splinter out of our brother's eye, we pried the log out of our own eye first? What if we realized we're all part of a system, a society, that's sick, and that we all have blood on our hands? What if we all were honest and said, "I killed Davey Moore." And then what if we had the courage to change--ourselves and the system--so nobody like him would need to die again?

Songs that Shaped Me - "We Shall Overcome"

2020-06-03T22:22:00.000-04:00

In times like these, we need a song. A song to unite those who believe in equity, justice, liberation, and freedom for all people. But not just any song. We need a song that unites not only those who labor today, but a song that reminds us that we stand arm in arm with co-laborers from every generation that has spoken out against oppression. So, the song we need isn't today's song, but one from generations past.

In this series, "Songs that Shaped Me," I'm sharing music that not only made a difference in my life, but songs that might shape you, too. Let's hear Pete Seeger as he sings:

"We Shall Overcome" is a song for all who are peacefully protesting against police brutality and against systemic racism on all levels. It is a song for Pride Month, inspiring people to join hands be proud of themselves, their friends, their family members who no longer need to remain in closets in order to be safe. "We Shall Overcome" is a song for all who hope for a more loving, more welcome, more affirming world. It's a song that shaped me. If you're younger, maybe this song is new to you. If you're older, it might take you back to different times, when we were passionate about equality. It's a song of peaceful protest, not a song of violence. It's a song that recognizes history's hurts and today's trouble, and looks forward to the promise of peace.

Songs that Shaped Me: "When Christians Sing That Nazi Song"

2020-05-28T21:34:00.000-04:00

Did you ever go to church and hear a Nazi song in the worship service? Yeah--me neither. Or, at least, I never thought of it as a Nazi song when I was a kid. But when I was a teenager, I was surprised to find that one of my most beloved hymns was also the national anthem of the Third Reich. Maybe you've sung this song as well...

Yes, "We are Called to Be God's People" is one of the songs that shaped me as a child, for two reasons. First, it is a musically amazing Austrian hymn by Franz Joseph Haydn. The English lyrics by Thomas Jackson inspire Christians to understand their calling to live in unity, share hope, to work for God's glory, and shed light in the world.

We are called to be God's people
Showing by our lives His grace
One in heart and one in spirit
Sign of hope for all the race
Let us show how He has changed us
And remade us as His own
Let us share our life together
As we shall around His throne

We are called to be God's servants
Working in His world today
Taking His own task upon us
All His sacred words obey
Let us rise then to His summons
Dedicate to Him our all
That we may be faithful servants
Quick to answer now His call

We are called to be God's prophets
Speaking for the truth and right
Standing firm for godly justice
Bringing evil into light
Let us seek the courage needed
Our high calling to fulfill
That we all may know the blessing
Of the doing of God's will

I absolutely loved singing this song in church on Sundays. Its message genuinely shaped the way I view our calling as Christians. But this song shaped me in another, more painful way as well. Back in the mid to late 1980s, a dear old lady named Vida Savkovich, had a terrible time whenever we sang my favorite hymn. She told our pastor that if we continued to sing it, she would have to leave the church. That's because every time we sang it, her PTSD kicked in and she was a child watching Hitler's tanks roll through her country. Yes, I found that one of my favorite hymns was also the Nazi national anthem. Its opening words say, "Deutschland, Deutschland, over everything / Over every other land," and Vida was retraumatized every time she heard it. Thanksfully, our pastor and music minister listened to her plea, and struck the song from our church's repertoire.

Think my church's leadership overreacted? That they made too bit a deal of her pain? Listen to what this German vlogger has to say:

So even Germans (who have some sense) say you should avoid the first verse of that song, out of respect to others and out of a desire NOT to bring up painful feelings.

"We Are Called to Be God's People" is a song that shaped me in two ways. First, it helped me to understand our calling as the people of God. Second our congregational experience of the song taught me to be sensitive to the feelings of others, who may be offended by something that I might view as perfectly wholesome, beautiful, and theologically correct. It taught me that just because something is right, that doesn't make it good.

Vida's story has impacted the way, as a pastor, I have tried to deal with other songs that involve hints of racism, traces of emperialism and violence, or sexist language. This song that shaped me also made me aware of how much our musical choices affect young and old people who hear them. It's important that the church listen to the theology in its music, and make sure it's communicating truth. We need to be aware of the subtle social messages that are coming through in our hymnody and worship music. And we need to be brave enough to ditch the songs that need to be cut.

Songs That Shaped Me: "By Our Love"

2020-05-23T12:29:00.000-04:00

If you grew up in church, you might not remember the sermons you've heard through the years, but you sure remember the music. Thisis because the message comes through meter and rhyme, rhythm and repetition. And it's likely that you hear each sermon only once, but you'll hear the same church music for years. Because of this, the songs we sing in church tend to sharpe us as much as, if not more than, the Sunday school lessons or sermons that are preached. This is why I've always tried to make sure that the songs we sang in the churches I served, reflected good theology.

Unfortunately, many Christian songs have some poor messages that we keep repeating each time we sing them in church. I've butted heads with some good music directors in churches, over their insinstence upon singing bad songs just because "the people love them." I've tried to explain that the songs we sing shape our outlook on life--for good or for evil. And even the songs we sing in church can have a bad effect on us, so "be careful, little ears, what you hear."

I've decided to take a few blog posts to talk about the songs that shaped me--some for the better, and some for the worse. Some you might know, and others you may not recognize. They are defintely all throwbacks. The first is an idealized vision of what the Church is supposed to be--and for this reason, it may have made me somewhat of an idealist in my own view of the Church. They'll Know We are Christians was written in the 1960s, so you know that when I heard it in the 1970s and 1980s, it was still considered new, by church standards. I'll share with you a more updated version, "By Our Love," by For King and Country:

These lyrics, by Fr. Peter Scholtes, communicate the ethos of what the early church intended--unity and love. In fact, they quote John 13:35, which says that love should be the distinguishing characteristic of believers. The world will know that we are disciples of Jesus by the love we share. No, it's not the crosses around our necks or the Bibles that we carry. It's not the steeples on our churches or the multi-million-dollar TV shows. The world will know we are Christians by our love. Sound idealistic? Jesus didn't think so. And it's this simple, idealistic, message that shaped the way I saw the church as a child.

Perhaps this is something the Church needs to regain--unity in the Spirit. We need to remember that unity does not equal conformity. It doesn't even mean agreement. Look, we are never going to agree on everything--maybe especially not on the hot button issues. But when we can learn to live in unity despite our differences, they'll know we are Christians by our love. Not by our insistence that we have the right interpretation of scripture, not by our adherence to the strictest of moral laws, and not by the way we worship. When we live in unity with one another, and embracing the world Jesus died for, they'll know we are Christians by our love.

"I'm broken. The church is broken. And that's beautiful."

2020-05-16T21:56:00.000-04:00

"I'm broken. The church is broken. And that's beautiful." That was my answer when someone asked me what I'd say if I ever interviewed for a pastoral position again. Now, I'm not saying that I will, and I'm not saying that I won't, ever pastor a church again--that's up to God. I'll just say yes to whatever God directs. But when the question came to me, how I might represent myself or communicate my vision for the (universal) Church, I answered in terms of brokenness.

You see, I come from a broken home--two times over. My parents didn't divorce til I was grown, but it profoundly impacted me as a young adult. My first marriage lasted almost a quarter century, leaving many blessings but also some damage to my heart, to hers, and to our children. But God specializes in restoring things that are broken. People who are broken, too. But God restores us beyond that which was fractured, and gives new purpose to our shards.

Kintsukuroi is the Japanese art of mending broken pottery with gold or silver lacquer. This serves as a metaphor for the way that pain, grief, and trauma can transform us into something beautiful. It reminds us that our brokenness, our scars, can become things of beauty. My life is Kintsukuroi.

Now, I don't claim that I have been restored. Instead, I'm proud to say that I'm broken. But I'm being renewed day by day. God has forgiven my failures, is putting me back together, and constantly restores my life, my love, and my livelihood. God has brought me together with my amazing new bride, given me a new home, a new country, and a renewed purpose. I can't say whether I'll ever stand in a pulpit again--but when somebody asked me how I'd express myself to the Church, I'd say that I'm broken, and that's beautiful.

I'd also tell any individual congregation that it, too, is broken. Because the Church (universal) is made up of damaged people who are all in the process of being restored, individual churches too are comprised of messed-up people. They're led by messed-up people. And they serve messed-up people. If I ever stood before a church again, I'd tell them not to forget that they're all broken. And that when they engage the world, they shouldn't do so from a position that says, "We've got it together, and we want to help the damaged people to be like us." Instead, the church needs to embrace its Kintsukuroi-ness, and understand that broken is beautiful. We're all damaged--and God is putting us back together. The Church can only get real with the world when it gets real with itself. Because the broken world will never be attracted by a pristine church. Only a damaged Church will do.

"The Apple of My Eye"

2020-05-11T10:27:00.000-04:00

Do I have an apple in my eye? I've always wondered what the phrase, "the apple of my eye" meant--mainly because I'm a "word nerd," who loves learning where our interesting words and phrases originate. Grammarist describes it thus:

The apple of one’s eye describes a thing or person which someone loves above all others, someone’s favorite person or thing, a person or thing that he is proud of. The phrase the apple of one’s eye dates back at least to the ninth century, first seen in King Aelfred of Wessex’ Gregory’s Pastoral Care. It was probably used in conversation long before that time. Originally, the apple of one’s eye referred to the pupil of the human eye. It was believed that the pupil was a round, solid object. In a time without proper eye care, sight was a precious commodity. It wasn’t long before the apple of one’s eye became a metaphor for something precious. This metaphor was used several times in the King James version of the Bible, as in Psalms: “Keep me as the apple of thine eye, hide me under the shadow of thy wings.” Shakespeare used the phrase in A Midsummer Night’s Dream: “…Hit with Cupid’s archery, Sink in apple of his eye.” The term was resurrected when Sir Walter Scott used it in his novel Old Mortality, published in 1816: “Poor Richard was to me as an eldest son, the apple of my eye.”

Three different times in Scripture, we find the phrase. David writes in Psalm 17:8 (NIV), "Keep me as the apple of your eye; hide me in the shadow of your wings." In Proverbs 7:2 (NIV), a loving father says to his son, "Keep my commandments and live; keep my teaching as the apple of your eye." Zechariah 2:8 (NIV) says, "For thus said the Lord of hosts, after his glory sent me to the nationis who plundered you, for he who touches you touches the apple of his eys."

So the "the apple of your eye" means something or someone very dear to you. It's a mistranslation, and means "little person" or "little doll" of the eye, and refers to the fact that when you get really, really close to another, you can see a tiny reflection of yourself in their pupil. In The Reasons of the Heart, John Dunne writes:

Nicholas of Cusa in his Vision of God, while speaking of our inner vision of God, speaks...of God's vision of us. He has it that our seeing God consists of our having a sense of God seeing us: to see God is to see one who sees; it is to have an experience of being seen. It is like looking at one of those protraits, he says, where theeyes are so contrived as to follow the beholder wherever he moves. No matter where the beholder stands, the eyes of the portrait seem to be looking at him. Or better, we could say, it is like feeling the gaze of another person, feeling the gaze without seeing the other's eyes. Or it can be like meeting the gaze of another. Or it can even be like looking into the eyes of another and seeing there the pupil, the pupilla, the "little doll," the tiny image of oeself reflected in the other's eyes."

Today, I'm thinking of all the "pupils" I've had in my life--my own children (biological and not), church family that I was blessed to serve as their pastor, clients that I now care for. When I look at each one, very closely, I can see a tiny image of myself reflected in their eyes. I'm reminded that, if I want to see this remarkable thing, I've got to get very close. You don't make an impression on someone from a distance--you've got to get close in order to change someone's life. But be careful, what you say and do--because those "little dolls" in your life will never forget the difference you made, for good or for evil.

The Bible says you are the apple of God's eye. The Divine Loving Parent has shown you how very precious you are, in God's sight. Do others know how precious they are, in your eyes? I hope that, with every interaction, you might not just see other people--but that you might see them, seeing you, seeing them. And that they might know, from your perspective, how lovely they are.

"Be Here Now"

2020-04-25T12:46:00.002-04:00

Won't you be glad when COVID-19 is over? I'll bet you have plenty of ideas for the things you want to do when this pandemic is done. Personally, I have some travel plans that are on hold until we get through this mess. I can't wait to go back to Virginia and visit family and friends--but those plans may very well be delayed. That doesn't stop me from thinking about the good times I'll have when life is back to normal, though. I want to go hiking and camping and kayaking. I want to go to church and be with people I care about. Yep--that'll be the day!

In Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV), God speaks these words through the prophet, to people who are desperate for better days:

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

Many people have adopted this as their "life verse," a sort of guiding principle for their lives. This is a great verse, and definitely worthy of being treated as such. It reminds us that no matter how bad things get, or how discouraged we may become, God has a good future planned for us.

But let's read that verse in context of God's other word for struggling people. In verses 4-7 (NIV), God says:

This is what the Lord Almighty, the God of Israel, says to all those I carried into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: “Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Marry and have sons and daughters; find wives for your sons and give your daughters in marriage, so that they too may have sons and daughters. Increase in number there; do not decrease. Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper.”

These words remind us not to focus so much on the future that we forget the present. In the poignant words of Ram Dass, we are reminded to "be here now." These three simple words encapsulate what God was telling the people of Israel. They may long for the future, and God may promise a brighter day--but God's people are meant to "be here now."

So, if you're feeling anxious about the present, remember that the future will be brighter. But today, settle down. Invest yourself in those around you. Find something constructive to do. Seek other people's prospertity--be helpful to others. Remember to pray for your enemies and your neighbors alike. Practice mindfulness--be present in the present moment. While you have faith that tomorrow will be a brighter day, don't forget to "be here now."

"God is Broken"

2020-04-19T15:09:00.000-04:00

"God must be broken," someone once told me. "What kind of God would allow so much suffering in this world?"

I nodded in agreement. "A broken God," I answered.

As of now, COVID-19 has claimed at least 164,391 lives worldwide, not to mention the "collateral damage" of the disease. Some of the peripheral pain caused by this strain of Coronavirus is:

Mental health crises brought on by isolation, financial hardship
Increased suicide rate
Massive unemployment
Rise in domestic violence
Educational plans put on hold or destroyed
Decrease in access to public health services, leading to exacerbated health situations, even death

You could probably add your own story of hardship to the list above. In times like these, many people express feelings of doubt. They ask, "Can a good God be all-powerful? Can an all-powerful God be good?" I'm going to let theologians who are more qualified than myself answer this question--I'm sure you'll Google the answer. Instead, I want to answer my friend who said, "God must be broken."

Yes, indeed--God is broken.

God's heart is broken by the brokenness of this world. God weeps with those who weep. When you go through sorrow or fear or heartbreak or disappointment, God feels that pain right along with you. God never intended it to be this way--but God does want to heal your hurt.

God's body was broken by the brokenness of this world. When Jesus died on the cross, it was because this cruel world couldn't abide someone so loving, so gracious, so wise, and so healing to continue to draw breath. Yes, it's true that "hurt people hurt people," and the hurting world put Jesus on the cross. Because of this, God knows first hand the suffering and pain caused by the brokenness of the world.

God's mind was even broken by the brokenness of the world. The state of creation is so fallen, so fractured, so failed that in an instant it broke the mind of God. On the cross, Jesus felt so ripped apart that he spoke the unthinkable: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" Divine Jesus felt torn from the Trinity, like the curtian of the Temple that was shredded from top to bottom.

Yes, God is broken--and yet, God lives.

It takes a broken God to know the suffering of a shattered world. But it takes a risen God to declare triumph over the pain. That's what Easter was all about--Jesus announcing that even though the pain is real, there is hope and remaking. And it's good news that even though Jesus is risen, he still bears the scars.

When Jesus appeared to the disciples, Thomas missed the event. In his doubt, he told them that they'd fallen to mass hysteria. He wouldn't believe it, he said, until he saw and touched Jesus' scars. Then, a week later, Jesus appeared again. This time, Thomas was there. Trembling as Jesus let him touch the places where the nails and spear had been, Thomas declared, "My Lord, and my God!"

Even though Jesus was resurrected, he still kept the scars. This was so he could show broken Thomas that he was broken, too. Rather than asking Thomas to exercise some great faith, Jesus met his friend right where was--in his pain and doubt and shattered spirit. Jesus said, "You know--I'm broken, too. Here, touch my brokenness, and let's be broken together for a while." Then, this sharing of pain brought relief, from which sprouted faith.

I wonder--during this time of COVID-19, has your faith been shaken or shattered? Have you suffered hardship, loss, grief, or dispair? Have you thought that God must be broken? Well--you're right. God was broken, and is broken still. But in that brokenness, God knows your pain. God shares your pain--but offers you promise. The resurrection is real. Just like Jesus' broken body was remade, you can be put back together as well. Jesus doesn't ask that much of you--he meets you right where you are. Even if you're not ready to say, "My Lord and my God," Jesus simply says, "Look--touch--see. This is my body, broken for you."

"What if the Church...Were More Attractive and Less Condemning?"

2019-09-14T13:45:00.000-04:00

"You catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar," Mom said. She was right then, and she's right now.

Thumper the Rabbit's mom agrees, adding, "If you can't say something nice, don't say nothin' at all."

Yet, if you were to ask the unchurched world what it thinks of the church, most people would say that the church is condemning, judgmental, and rude.

If that's how we come across, it makes me wonder...are we doing it right?

Because Jesus didn't come across that way. Jesus was known as the "friend of sinners," not the finger-shaking judge. Jesus focused on attracting people to God, rather than condemning them. In John 3 (NIV), Nichodemus sought the Master out for a secret meeting because he knew his interest in Jesus would be scorned by his fellow religious leaders. He asked Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life. Jesus answered:

14 Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, 15 that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him.”

Jesus was talking about an incident in Israel's history (Numbers 21) where venomous serpents swarmed the camp of wandering Hebrews, biting and killing many. They attributed this plague to God's punishing them for grumbling. This is fitting, because it underscores that when we grumble, we poison ourselves. The solution Moses presented was to make a bronze serpent, and set it on a pole. Everyone who looked to the metal snake for healing was miraculously cured. Jesus referenced this odd occurence as an allegory. Just as healing came to the Israelites by attracting their attention away from the grumbling and pain, to focus instead on the source of their healing, Jesus himself would be lifted up as a source of healing. In John 12:32, Jesus would reinforce this approach of attracting people to him by saying, "And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.”

Instead of focusing on the negative, Jesus says, "Look at me!" Instead of condemning, Jesus offers hope. Again, in John 3, the narrator picks up the theme from Jesus' words to Nicodemus.

16 For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. 17 For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.

Clearly, Jesus is not about condemning the world, but about saving it. This is his mission. And this ought to be what the church is about.

Unfortunately, the church has all too often been about shaking its finger and sometimes shaking its fist at the world, condemning a culture that doesn't follow the church's way. This doesn't make sense, because how can we expect a world that isn't a part of the church to follow the way of Jesus? That's like condemning a cat for not acting more like a dog. Instead, the church ought to be inspiring dogs to act like better dogs. Maybe that kind of gentle attraction will one day make cats say, "Can you show me how to be a better cat, too?"

So, I ask, "What if the church were more attractive and less condeming?" How would it change the way we operate among fellow believers? How would it change the way we relate to people we view as "outside the faith?" I believe if we shift and become more like Jesus in this matter, the spirit of the church would change entirely, and more people would be drawn to Christ.

"Love Doesn't Keep Score"

2019-09-05T00:25:00.000-04:00

Have you ever wondered where those tennis folks get off, using the word "love" to mean "nothing?" That doesn't make any sense. Because I'm a word nerd, I looked it up. Here's one thing I found on Quora:

MAHALAKSHMI MURALI, Tennis BloggerAnswered Nov 17, 2017Originally Answered: What does love means in tennis?The origin of “love” in tennis is disputed. It technically corresponds to zero. One of the possible derivations of the word “love” could be the French expression “L’œuf” which translates into the egg because an egg looks like the number zero. Another possible theory of the origin of “love” could be that at the beginning of the match when the scores are zero the opponents have love of each other, hence “Love All”.

Etymonline further illuminates:

Old English lufu "feeling of love; romantic sexual attraction; affection; friendliness; the love of God; Love as an abstraction or personification," from Proto-Germanic *lubo (source also of Old High German liubi "joy," German Liebe "love;" Old Norse, Old Frisian, Dutch lof; German Lob "praise;" Old Saxon liof, Old Frisian liaf, Dutch lief, Old High German liob, German lieb, Gothic liufs "dear, beloved"). The Germanic words are from PIE root *leubh- "to care, desire, love."

The weakened sense "liking, fondness" was in Old English. Meaning "a beloved person" is from early 13c. The sense "no score" (in tennis, etc.) is 1742, from the notion of playing for love (1670s), that is, for no stakes.

So, love is playing for nothing. Love is playing for no score. This reminds me of 1 Corinthians 13:1-7. I don't usually, but I'm going to share those verses from Eugene Peterson's The Message:

If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don’t love, I’m nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate.

2 If I speak God’s Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, “Jump,” and it jumps, but I don’t love, I’m nothing.

3-7 If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don’t love, I’ve gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I’m bankrupt without love.

Love never gives up.
Love cares more for others than for self.
Love doesn’t want what it doesn’t have.
Love doesn’t strut,
Doesn’t have a swelled head,
Doesn’t force itself on others,
Isn’t always “me first,”
Doesn’t fly off the handle,
Doesn’t keep score of the sins of others,
Doesn’t revel when others grovel,
Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
Puts up with anything,
Trusts God always,
Always looks for the best,
Never looks back, but keeps going to the end.

Right in the center of all those qualities is that love "doesn't keep score."

I can't tell you how many times I've fallen into the trap of keeping score with someone I love. "I've given and given to them, but they haven't given back." Or, "They've hurt me so many times!" It's like the tennis score is 40-love, where "love" means "nothing," and that's my score. Zip. Zero. That's what keeping score gets you.

But what if we change the meaning of the tennis score "love" and understand it this way: "Man, you really got one on me--but I still love you! Well, you're scoring more than I am, but I still love you." You get to the point where if your score is "love," you're no longer keeping score at all--becaue what's the point? In fact, there are no points. You're not in the relationship to win. You're in it for the love of the game, for the love of the other person. So let them score. Or better yet--if you quit keeping score then their triumphs aren't scores anymore anyway. You simply get to say, "Good one! Way go go! Look at how well you've done!" And that's a much better way to play the game than competing anyway.

Have you ever gotten frustrated in an argument, thrown up your arms and said, "I can't win!?"

Why are you trying to win, anyway? That's not a very nice way to play the game where "love" means neither of you is keeping score. Instead, when you're in a disagreement, step aside. Go back to 1 Corinthians 13, and remind yourself what love is all about.

Sacred Space; Omnipresent God

2019-09-02T11:55:00.001-04:00

Do you have a sacred place where you go, to get alone with God? Maybe it's a mountain stream or a favorite beach, or a place in a park where the flowers bloom. Human beings long for sacred places--breathing space where we can commune with our own hearts and with God. For some people, that special place is the church where they grew up. I remember the song, "Church in the Wildwood", by the Statler brothers:

There's a church in the valley by the wildwood

No lovelier spot in the dale

No place is so dear to my childhood

As the little brown church in the vale

I have several such places, where my heart goes in memory, as I think of special events that formed my soul. Yes, one of those, for me, is Mount Olivet Baptist Church, where I grew up. There, I first learned to trust God, learned to follow, and then learned to lead. I even had moments when I believed I saw a divine glow in the sanctuary, during worship--but did God LIVE at Mount Olivet? Well, yes. But no more than God lives in other places. Yet, even though God is omnipresent (everywhere at once), God is also often known in sacred places.

For me, sacred places go beyond church buildings. I think of certains spots by certain rivers where I have felt God's presence strongly (thank you to Nancy Hugo and the River Project in high school). I remember mountain top experiences where God seemed so near (thank you, BGAV Appalachian Trail Minister's Hikes). I can also rememeber hospital rooms where we all held hands and prayed, where we all felt the presence of angels. Yes, God is everywhere, but God is also in certain places at specific times.

When Solomon dedicated the Temple in Jerusalem, he prayed for God's blessing on the sacred place. He said, "The lord has said that he would dwell in a dark cloud; I have indeed built a magnificent temple for you, a place for you to dwell forever (1 Kings 8:12-13 NIV)." While God's dark cloud of mystery obscures the divine presence, still God condescends to meet us in the tangible world.

Still, Solomon recognized God's omnipresence. "But will God really dwell on earth? The heavens, even the highest heaven, cannot contain you. How much less this temple I have built (v. 27)." Solomon knows that God is beyond time and space, yet he also knows that people need some physical marker to identify and remember their experience with God. This is why he suggests "praying toward" the temple. This tradition, called Mizrah, became so important for many Jewish believers that they hung or painted special ornaments on the side of their house that was closest to Jerusalem, just so they could know which direction to pray towards. It wasn't that they believed that God would hear their prayers more if they faced the temple (or the place where the demolished temple used to be). It was a way of orienting their hearts toward sacred space.

Today, I wonder--what's your sacred space? Do you have a physical place in your life, where you feel close to God? How do you jive the two concepts of an omnipresent God, and a very present God in a tangible world? Do you believe God is "up in heaven?" Or do you believe that God is right here? Maybe it's both! Maybe even saying "both" is too limited. Maybe it's even more than that--far more than words can tell.

"Do Your Possessions Possess You?" or, "Demonic Possessions"

2019-08-09T09:26:00.000-04:00

In the past year, I've learned to let go of possessions. Moving from Virginia to the Pacific Northwest in the winter, I couldn't bring my truck and travel trailer across the mountainous country in the snow, so I left them behind and moved with three suitcases of stuff. I lived with those three suitcases of stuff for seven and a half months before I was able to go back to Virginia and get my things. Even then, I could only take back with me about a thousand pounds of belongings, since it had to fit into the back of my pickup and since I was towing a trailer and was limited by the towing capacity of my vehicle.

In essence, I've learned to live with very little. And be content with that. Did I miss my things, in the intervening time when they were in Virginia and I was on the West Coast? Sure. But I learned not to be attached to them, to not long for them. I learned to feel complete without them. And now that I have them, I recognize the extra work it's going to take in my life to take care of those things. It'll take extra time to maintain what I own. It's definitely worth it--but it's also a fact that having fewer things allows for a simpler life.

In contrast, I know some people who are hoarders. Their homes are crammed, wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling, with stuff. They think they possess their possessions, but in reality, their possessions possess them. They have become slaves to their belongings, so much that the lack of space in their homes constricts them and keeps them from fully functioning.

Kitchen counter space is taken up by so much clutter that there's no room for meal prep--so they eat unhealthy, prepackaged meals that they just microwave, or they go out to eat too much. Both of these alternatives to real meal prep are expensive both to bodily health and to the wallet.

When I visit them, chairs and couches are covered with so much stuff that I am forced to stand during the visit. The lack of space leads to lack of hospitality, which also leads to lack of friends.

And on and on. Their possessions possess them. And that's demonic. Maybe that's hyperbole and maybe that's not--I'm not the one to judge. But I do believe there's something spiritually oppressive happening when a person is held captive by their own belongings. Demonic possessions may not always take the form of a person foaming at the mouth and spewing profanity. Sometimes possessions simply fill up and crowd out a person's life until there's no room for God.

As I write this, I wonder--what's your relationship with your stuff? Do you NEED your things, or could you be content without most of them? Do you control your belongings, or do your possessions possess you?

"I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength (Philippians 4:11b-13 NIV)."

Nature abhors a vacuum. Maybe it prefers a clean sweep.

2019-07-11T10:00:00.000-04:00

Have you ever felt a vacuum in your life--not like a Hoover, but like a black hole? Grief can make you feel that way, and so can depression. It's not only death of a loved one that brings this kind of sadness, but the loss of a marriage, loss of a job, children moving away, your own move to a different home, or change of any kind. Depression can be brought on by life situations, and it can also be caused by chemical imbalances. These things can make you feel like you have a vacuum in your heart, consumed from within by a black hole.

In 1 Samuel 16, King Saul felt this way:

14 Now the Spirit of the Lord had departed from Saul, and an evil spirit from the Lord tormented him.

15 Saul’s attendants said to him, “See, an evil spirit from God is tormenting you. 16 Let our lord command his servants here to search for someone who can play the lyre. He will play when the evil spirit from God comes on you, and you will feel better.”

17 So Saul said to his attendants, “Find someone who plays well and bring him to me.”
18 One of the servants answered, “I have seen a son of Jesse of Bethlehem who knows how to play the lyre. He is a brave man and a warrior. He speaks well and is a fine-looking man. And the Lord is with him.”

19 Then Saul sent messengers to Jesse and said, “Send me your son David, who is with the sheep.” 20 So Jesse took a donkey loaded with bread, a skin of wine and a young goat and sent them with his son David to Saul.

21 David came to Saul and entered his service. Saul liked him very much, and David became one of his armor-bearers. 22 Then Saul sent word to Jesse, saying, “Allow David to remain in my service, for I am pleased with him.”

23 Whenever the spirit from God came on Saul, David would take up his lyre and play. Then relief would come to Saul; he would feel better, and the evil spirit would leave him.

There are three theological points that I don't have time to get into in depth right now, but I want to briefly touch on. The first is that God doesn't send evil spirits--that was the common misconception of Hebrew authors at the time. The second is that under the Old Covenant, the Holy Spirit would come and go, but under the New Covenant, believers have the indwelling Holy Spirit forever. The third is that some people interpret "evil spirit" to mean a demon and others interpret that phrase to simply mean a bad mood or psychological event. Your opinion on that is immaterial to what I'm saying today. So what's the point?

Vacuums want to be filled, and messy houses need a clean sweep.

Saul felt the way that he felt because the Spirit of the Lord had left him. Empty spaces in the heart want to be filled with something. Some people who feel internal vacuums fill them with drugs, alcohol, sex, YouTube, political campaigning, food, hoarding, or anything else that can be addictive. Others fill the void with self pity, complaining, and undermining of others. These are negative ways of dealing with the empty space inside. When Saul felt this way, he could be slanderous and murderous.

To deal with the problem, Saul needed to make a clean sweep inside his heart. He needed to "get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice (Eph 4:31 NIV)." But you can't simply sweep a house clean and leave it that way. Jesus says in Luke 11 (NIV):

24 “When an impure spirit comes out of a person, it goes through arid places seeking rest and does not find it. Then it says, ‘I will return to the house I left.’ 25 When it arrives, it finds the house swept clean and put in order. 26 Then it goes and takes seven other spirits more wicked than itself, and they go in and live there. And the final condition of that person is worse than the first.”

What Jesus means is that you can't simply empty out the bad habits, the negative thinking, and the problematic things from your life, get that clean sweep, set your house in order, and expect it to stay that way. You've got to fill your life with positive things that cancel out the negative. Members of Alcoholics Anonymous have learned to replace drinking with meetings, and with helping others. In the times when Saul was successful at resisting the vacuum, he would fill his heart with songs of worship. This is helpful because Psalm 22:3 says that God is enthroned on the praises of people. This means when we put God on the throne in our hearts, He takes the seat that was vacated by negative things. He gets rid of the vacuum, makes a clean sweep, and then keeps the house clean.

I wonder--if you're trying to get rid of something negative in your life, are you simply trying to cast it out? Or are you replacing it with something good? I hope you'll fill the vacuum with good things today.

Celebrity in our Midst

2019-07-10T10:05:00.000-04:00

Once, I went on a ghost tour in Wilmington, North Carolina. A small group of people joined the tour guide as he led us from one old mansion to another, through the town graveyard, past an old tavern, telling us stories of people who had been murdered along the way. One person in the crowd appeared to be enjoying the tour, and enjoying the fact that nobody seemed to recognize him. Actor Michael Cera was part of this tour group--not as part of of the production, but simply as a fellow tourist. He's a pretty unassuming guy, and even though I did recognize him, I never acted like a fan, never ran up and asked him to confirm his identity, never asked for his autograph. I let him have his anonymity.

It wasn't too long before that incident, that I was in Scottsville, Virginia, in an ice cream shop. Through the window, I saw singer Dave Matthews (who owns a farm outside of town) walking down the sidewalk. Others (possibly tourists) inside the shop also saw him through the window, pausing as he considered whether to take his daughter inside. The others began fawning over him and treating him like an idol, even through the panes of glass, waiting to see if he would join them in the ice cream parlor. I happened to be on my way out. I stopped to say hello to Dave, (who's a really nice person), and told him that he should be aware that if he goes inside, he should be prepared to encounter adoring fans. He thanked me, and we said goodbye. I don't know whether he chose to go in and be recognized, or not.

Sometimes, celebrities like to be recognized, and sometimes they don't. It may be that they're trying to have personal time with their family. They may be on a ghost tour and just want to be left alone. Or, they may want you to know who they are. After all, celebrities choose their lives of fame and certainly profit from it. It's hard to know what to do when you recognize celebrity.

In 1 Samuel 16, the prophet Samuel goes to Bethlehem to find a king for Israel. He thinks he will find that king among prominent Jesse's more stalwart sons. One is the strongest, another is the tallest, another is the most handsome. Samuel almost misses the celebrity right under his nose--little David, who was so ignominious that he was nearly forgotten. Just a shepherd boy, tending the sheep. But God chooses him as king of Israel.

In Luke 24, after Jesus' resurrection, two disciples encounter a stranger on the road to Emmaus. They spend all day with him, talking about current events and listening as he explains about the Messiah. It's not until evening, when they break bread together, that they realize that the stranger IS THE MESSIAH they've been talking about. Then, Jesus vanishes from their sight.

Sometimes, we recognize celebrities in our midst. Other times, we miss them entirely. But what if we stopped to recognize the celebrities who are ALWAYS among us? The word "celebrity" means somebody to be celebrated--and isn't that your spouse, your child, your parent, your neighbor, your coworker, your friend? Isn't that the person nearest to you, that you tend to overlook as common? The truth is, celebrities are in our midst every day, if we only have the eyes to see them. The divine is among us in every person we meet, if we only have the heart to embrace God With Us, Emmanuel.

I hope today you'll recognize celebrities in your midst. I hope you'll see God in the most common person, and that you'll treat them like the precious one that they are.

"What Would You Have Said?"

2019-06-29T12:16:00.000-04:00

"I grew up in the Lutheran church," she told me yesterday. "I went through Sunday school and was taught everything I was supposed to learn. But I've drifted away--I guess a lot of my generation drifts away. I don't believe like my parents believe. I guess I'm an agnostic, really. But after a while, I started feeling disconnected. Like, I don't have a sense of community. Well, there's this Methodist church I've found, that a friend invited me to. They have a praise band, and they need a guitarist. I don't like Christian rock--but I've started playing with them. I like it--but I don't know if I'm just pretending to be something that I'm not. I like the sense of connection and community that I find in church, but I'm not sure if I should be there if I don't accept everything they believe. What do you think?"*

Instead of jumping in and telling you immediately how I answered her, I'm curious what you'd say.

Some Christians would answer that unless she believes the same way they do, she shouldn't be in church--that church is a gathering of like-minded Christians. Others would say she is welcome to attend, but definitely shouldn't join the church as a member. Still others would say she should be welcome there, but shouldn't be playing in the band, since that's leading worship and worship leadership is only for those who believe. Some go even further and say that a believer should only be in worship leadership if they're living life by some pretty righteous standards. You get a lot of opinions from Christians about who's in and who's out, in terms of the church.

In Acts 11:1-18 (MSG), Peter explains to the church that he has learned a tough lesson about judging people to be insiders and outsiders. Here's what he says:

1-3 The news traveled fast and in no time the leaders and friends back in Jerusalem heard about it—heard that the non-Jewish “outsiders” were now “in.” When Peter got back to Jerusalem, some of his old associates, concerned about circumcision, called him on the carpet: “What do you think you’re doing rubbing shoulders with that crowd, eating what is prohibited and ruining our good name?”

4-6 So Peter, starting from the beginning, laid it out for them step-by-step: “Recently I was in the town of Joppa praying. I fell into a trance and saw a vision: Something like a huge blanket, lowered by ropes at its four corners, came down out of heaven and settled on the ground in front of me. Milling around on the blanket were farm animals, wild animals, reptiles, birds—you name it, it was there. Fascinated, I took it all in.

7-10 “Then I heard a voice: ‘Go to it, Peter—kill and eat.’ I said, ‘Oh, no, Master. I’ve never so much as tasted food that wasn’t kosher.’ The voice spoke again: ‘If God says it’s okay, it’s okay.’ This happened three times, and then the blanket was pulled back up into the sky.

11-14 “Just then three men showed up at the house where I was staying, sent from Caesarea to get me. The Spirit told me to go with them, no questions asked. So I went with them, I and six friends, to the man who had sent for me. He told us how he had seen an angel right in his own house, real as his next-door neighbor, saying, ‘Send to Joppa and get Simon, the one they call Peter. He’ll tell you something that will save your life—in fact, you and everyone you care for.’

15-17 “So I started in, talking. Before I’d spoken half a dozen sentences, the Holy Spirit fell on them just as he did on us the first time. I remembered Jesus’ words: ‘John baptized with water; you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.’ So I ask you: If God gave the same exact gift to them as to us when we believed in the Master Jesus Christ, how could I object to God?”
18 Hearing it all laid out like that, they quieted down. And then, as it sank in, they started praising God. “It’s really happened! God has broken through to the other nations, opened them up to Life!”

Peter's conundrum wasn't about clean and unclean food. I mean, as a Jewish man, yes, that was an issue, and that was radical enough. But this vision was God's way of making the point that just as there's no such thing as clean and unclean food, there's no such thing as clean and unclean people. Everyone is acceptable to God. God does not play favorites.

Yet, for some reason, there are some people that many churches still don't welcome. They are deemed unworthy, or outsiders, because of the color of their skin, their disability, their citizenship status, their language, their sexual orientation or gender identity. They are told that they're not welcome to fully participate in church life unless they believe the right doctrine, unless they're baptized, unless they're tithers, or unless they measure up in some other arbitrary way. But the Bible's pretty clear that God plays no favorites.

So yesterday, I told the young woman that if I were the pastor of the church she's been attending, I'd tell her that if she's coming for the sake of community, she should keep coming. That she shouldn't pretend to be something she's not, but if she enjoys playing the keyboard and contributing to the community in that way, she should continue to do so.

Because, what would happen if I'd told her that she should stop playing, or stop attending, because her faith wasn't "good enough?" I'd essentially have told her that she was an outsider. Her partial interest would have turned to no interest at all--and worse than that, she would have felt hurt, rejected, and alienated.

I believe that when Jesus hung on the cross, his arms were spread wide--not just in crucifixion, but in welcome. "Come to me, ALL who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest," Jesus said.

So, I told her to come, encouraged her to stay, and hoped she'd share her gifts. But I wonder...

What would you have said?

*The above conversation was real, but certain details have been changed to protect anonymity.