I went to a briefing on hunger this past week. This was a gathering of church folks mostly, organized by United Way. The intent was to talk about the face of hunger in our community and talk about the available sources of support and what we can do to help. With the recession, more and more people are affected. The Salvation Army captain said that some of the people who used to give to the Salvation Army are now some of the ones receiving help. The irony of this is that we met at Das Dutchman Essenhaus in Middlebury over breakfast! We ate our scrambled eggs, fried potatoes, sausage and sweet rolls while talking about hungry people. I did not eat much. My breakfast did not go down well that morning.
The other irony I thought about is that I am, let say, pleasantly plump. I work out at the Y several times a week to try to slow down the passage of time and the hold that gravity has gotten on me and tone everything up. I also work out because doing so clears my head and relaxes me and I am hopefully a nicer, calmer person because I do this. While I do that, some in this world starve to death. One could get real cynical here. This world has enough ills and suffering in it. Getting cynical and sarcastic would be really easy. I choose not to go that route.
Instead, I find myself giving thanks for the fact that I am healthy, that I have plenty of food, the fact that I am loved and I am also reminded and encouraged greatly to find ways to help those who have less than I do. Starving myself will not help these folks get food but out of my wealth and blessings I can give and for that I find myself very grateful. Life is a great gift not to be wasted but to be lived to the full and I don’t believe that can happen without love, serving others and sharing.
The gathering of representatives for about 50 local churches is a miracle, one of the speakers pointed out. Together we can find solutions. Feed the hungry and clothe the naked are some of the things Jesus admonished us to do (Matthew 25). What I also want to do is find ways of dealing with the system which allows such things to happen. Nobody in the world should go hungry but to hear of hunger in America, the richest country in the world, is crazy. So I want to find effective ways of helping. I can’t feed everybody on my own but God has a way of multiplying a little food (remember the story of the feeding of the multitude with just a few loaves of bread and a couple of fish?) into a lot if we all work together. I want to be part of that! I hope you join me! One way is to fill up a grocery bag on May 9 and leave it by your mailbox for the mail carrier to pick up. There will be volunteer opportunities that day. You will hear more about it soon.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Change
This is an article I shared with our congregation in our March newsletter.
Change. I’ve been thinking a lot about change this past year.
I have been thinking about change because there are a lot of things going on in each of our lives. We experience aging. We experience new births and the death of loved ones. We experience change in our living situations. Some get married; Others divorced. Some of us have lost a job and with it more than income and insurance but also a sense of our identity and maybe a sense of our worth.
I have been thinking about change because we have all felt the impact on our lives of the economic recession we are experiencing. Our money does not stretch as far as it used to. I think of that every time Steve and I buy groceries. I think of this and I am more grateful than ever to have meaningful employment and a roof above our heads.
I have been thinking about change as we enter the season of Lent. It is a time of introspection and a time when we are called anew to ponder Jesus’ question “Who do you say I am?” and the questions of “who are we?” and “whose are we?” These are questions we have to answer as individuals and as a church body. If we answer, “Jesus in our LORD”, this means that we are called to follow and following is not a static, unchanging thing.
I have been thinking about change because of the election of Barak Obama. Whether we agree with his political views or not, it is undeniable that we are entering a new chapter in history.
I have been thinking about change because our church and our Indiana Conference are in the middle of great change and transition. As you know, the coming together of the North and South Indiana Conferences was approved last year and we are now deep in the transition time and implementation and working the nitty gritty details.
I have been thinking about change because Bethel is in transition and we are faced with decisions having to do with how to remain faithful as a church and faithful to our mission of making disciples of Jesus. You’ll hear more about this in the weeks and months to come.
I would venture to say that most of us, if not all of us, have mixed feelings about change: Change can be exciting and it can be scary and often change is all these things at once. We can embrace change or we can resist it. In the end, whether we embrace or resist change, it is inevitable and it is part of life.
I am talking with several people about change and how to negotiate transitions in our personal life as well as in our gatherings of people we call the church.
I went to a seminar in February, after having read several books from our presenter, and we talked about how to introduce change in churches. There are some good ways of doing this and there are not so good ways of doing this. One of the pastors who attended recalled how she served a church which had forgotten its purpose and which refused/never found ways to adapt to meet the needs of a changing neighborhood. They used to be a large downtown church, well attended by wealthy parishioners. But through the years, attendance dwindled to less than 50. They do have a beautiful, European-inspired, church, which only remains open because of an endowment fund. She said it looks more like a mausoleum than a church. What striked me is that she did not say, museum – which is bad enough; she said mausoleum - a place where the dead are buried. This saddened me. I know the church and another friend is serving there now. I hope he can help revive this place through the people in it and by inviting others to come and experience life with Jesus. This will require changing hearts and minds and it will require a lot of work on everyone’s part.
When I think of change and transitions, I think of the story of the Exodus in the Bible; how the people found themselves facing new situations. They had to learn new ways and they had to adapt and it did not always go very smoothly. Many even grumbled that the slavery in Egypt they had just left would be better than that they were experiencing in the wilderness. It’s interesting how we remember things. The good ol’ days were usually not as good as we might remember them. They grumbled so much that God ended up giving them a lot of extra time to think and hopefully mature. It also took the passing of the rebellious generation before the rest of the people could enter the Promised Land.
When I think of change and transitions, I also think of 1st and 2nd Peter. In these letters, the author, whom we think was the apostle Peter, exhorts the scattered Christians in Asia Minor (present day Turkey) to hold fast to their faith and their trust of God in the face of hardship. We started the study of these letters and what they have to say to us last Monday. It is not too late to join the study!
When I think of change and transitions, I think of prayer. As people of God we are called to pray without ceasing. I don’t believe we can live life very well and negotiate the inevitable changes and transitions, which come our way without talking with God and seeking His guidance.
When I think of change and transitions, I think of God because no matter what we all face, He is with us and will guide us through when we seek Him.
One question that our seminar leader asked - and that question haunts me in some ways - is “If your church closed, would anyone in the neighborhood, in the community, notice and care? Would your church be missed by anyone outside of it?”
Change. I’ve been thinking a lot about change this past year.
I have been thinking about change because there are a lot of things going on in each of our lives. We experience aging. We experience new births and the death of loved ones. We experience change in our living situations. Some get married; Others divorced. Some of us have lost a job and with it more than income and insurance but also a sense of our identity and maybe a sense of our worth.
I have been thinking about change because we have all felt the impact on our lives of the economic recession we are experiencing. Our money does not stretch as far as it used to. I think of that every time Steve and I buy groceries. I think of this and I am more grateful than ever to have meaningful employment and a roof above our heads.
I have been thinking about change as we enter the season of Lent. It is a time of introspection and a time when we are called anew to ponder Jesus’ question “Who do you say I am?” and the questions of “who are we?” and “whose are we?” These are questions we have to answer as individuals and as a church body. If we answer, “Jesus in our LORD”, this means that we are called to follow and following is not a static, unchanging thing.
I have been thinking about change because of the election of Barak Obama. Whether we agree with his political views or not, it is undeniable that we are entering a new chapter in history.
I have been thinking about change because our church and our Indiana Conference are in the middle of great change and transition. As you know, the coming together of the North and South Indiana Conferences was approved last year and we are now deep in the transition time and implementation and working the nitty gritty details.
I have been thinking about change because Bethel is in transition and we are faced with decisions having to do with how to remain faithful as a church and faithful to our mission of making disciples of Jesus. You’ll hear more about this in the weeks and months to come.
I would venture to say that most of us, if not all of us, have mixed feelings about change: Change can be exciting and it can be scary and often change is all these things at once. We can embrace change or we can resist it. In the end, whether we embrace or resist change, it is inevitable and it is part of life.
I am talking with several people about change and how to negotiate transitions in our personal life as well as in our gatherings of people we call the church.
I went to a seminar in February, after having read several books from our presenter, and we talked about how to introduce change in churches. There are some good ways of doing this and there are not so good ways of doing this. One of the pastors who attended recalled how she served a church which had forgotten its purpose and which refused/never found ways to adapt to meet the needs of a changing neighborhood. They used to be a large downtown church, well attended by wealthy parishioners. But through the years, attendance dwindled to less than 50. They do have a beautiful, European-inspired, church, which only remains open because of an endowment fund. She said it looks more like a mausoleum than a church. What striked me is that she did not say, museum – which is bad enough; she said mausoleum - a place where the dead are buried. This saddened me. I know the church and another friend is serving there now. I hope he can help revive this place through the people in it and by inviting others to come and experience life with Jesus. This will require changing hearts and minds and it will require a lot of work on everyone’s part.
When I think of change and transitions, I think of the story of the Exodus in the Bible; how the people found themselves facing new situations. They had to learn new ways and they had to adapt and it did not always go very smoothly. Many even grumbled that the slavery in Egypt they had just left would be better than that they were experiencing in the wilderness. It’s interesting how we remember things. The good ol’ days were usually not as good as we might remember them. They grumbled so much that God ended up giving them a lot of extra time to think and hopefully mature. It also took the passing of the rebellious generation before the rest of the people could enter the Promised Land.
When I think of change and transitions, I also think of 1st and 2nd Peter. In these letters, the author, whom we think was the apostle Peter, exhorts the scattered Christians in Asia Minor (present day Turkey) to hold fast to their faith and their trust of God in the face of hardship. We started the study of these letters and what they have to say to us last Monday. It is not too late to join the study!
When I think of change and transitions, I think of prayer. As people of God we are called to pray without ceasing. I don’t believe we can live life very well and negotiate the inevitable changes and transitions, which come our way without talking with God and seeking His guidance.
When I think of change and transitions, I think of God because no matter what we all face, He is with us and will guide us through when we seek Him.
One question that our seminar leader asked - and that question haunts me in some ways - is “If your church closed, would anyone in the neighborhood, in the community, notice and care? Would your church be missed by anyone outside of it?”
Friday, February 20, 2009
I have this place
I have this place. It’s a cute coffee shop that used to be a flower shop on E. Jackson not far from the Y. It’s a cozy place. Looks like it was a home at one time. I have my favorite table in that place, in a corner, towards the back.
I have this place where the people who work there know my name and they know that I like a cranberry oatmeal cookie with my coffee. And they know that I like strawberry-banana smoothies and I like my berry oatmeal bake warmed up and without milk; like a piece of coffee cake.
I have a place. I go there, not so much for the food (especially now that I am trying to be on a lower carb diet) but I go there because of the peace and grace I often find.
Earlier this year, I had a health thing which got me on edge for about a week while I waited for the biopsy result. I went to this place right after the tissue sample was taken and I received a much needed dose of grace – in the form of a free cookie and a warm smile. I never told the owner that she was an angel in disguise that day. Maybe I should tell her. The results of the biopsy came out as benign.
I go to this place alone to read, to think through things, to think about an upcoming sermon... I go there fairly regularly just to be for a while. To talk with God.
I go there to meet with a friend and talk about life. I go there with someone from the church to discuss ministry possibilities.
I was there this morning, with a pastor friend. I received grace from that person who has been more than patient with this green, searching, pastor on many occasions. He listened to me. Shared some thoughts for a little while. It was good.
Jesus had places too. In one place he would withdraw regularly and pray. He had another place which belonged to two sisters, where he could get away from the craziness of life and the business of ministry in order to be renewed and readied again for service. People – sometimes his own disciples - often tried to go after him and tried to make him feel guilty about not being with the people all the time as they eagerly waited for him to heal their broken lives and their broken bodies. But Jesus knew when to say “enough”.
We seem to have a thing against slowing down in this culture. Some seem to take pride in the fact that they are always busy. Seems like their worth is tied to how busy they are.
It almost seems like we will be judged as lazy if we stop on a regular basis to just be.
I struggle with business but I know, and realize anew as we are getting ready to enter the season of Lent, that busy does not necessarily mean effective. I also know that I won’t be able to serve in the long haul if I don’t stop on a regular basis to just be.
As Christians, I think we all need to become counter-cultural in how we use our time and how we define our worth.
Do you have a place? Do you stop on a regular basis to just be?
I have this place where the people who work there know my name and they know that I like a cranberry oatmeal cookie with my coffee. And they know that I like strawberry-banana smoothies and I like my berry oatmeal bake warmed up and without milk; like a piece of coffee cake.
I have a place. I go there, not so much for the food (especially now that I am trying to be on a lower carb diet) but I go there because of the peace and grace I often find.
Earlier this year, I had a health thing which got me on edge for about a week while I waited for the biopsy result. I went to this place right after the tissue sample was taken and I received a much needed dose of grace – in the form of a free cookie and a warm smile. I never told the owner that she was an angel in disguise that day. Maybe I should tell her. The results of the biopsy came out as benign.
I go to this place alone to read, to think through things, to think about an upcoming sermon... I go there fairly regularly just to be for a while. To talk with God.
I go there to meet with a friend and talk about life. I go there with someone from the church to discuss ministry possibilities.
I was there this morning, with a pastor friend. I received grace from that person who has been more than patient with this green, searching, pastor on many occasions. He listened to me. Shared some thoughts for a little while. It was good.
Jesus had places too. In one place he would withdraw regularly and pray. He had another place which belonged to two sisters, where he could get away from the craziness of life and the business of ministry in order to be renewed and readied again for service. People – sometimes his own disciples - often tried to go after him and tried to make him feel guilty about not being with the people all the time as they eagerly waited for him to heal their broken lives and their broken bodies. But Jesus knew when to say “enough”.
We seem to have a thing against slowing down in this culture. Some seem to take pride in the fact that they are always busy. Seems like their worth is tied to how busy they are.
It almost seems like we will be judged as lazy if we stop on a regular basis to just be.
I struggle with business but I know, and realize anew as we are getting ready to enter the season of Lent, that busy does not necessarily mean effective. I also know that I won’t be able to serve in the long haul if I don’t stop on a regular basis to just be.
As Christians, I think we all need to become counter-cultural in how we use our time and how we define our worth.
Do you have a place? Do you stop on a regular basis to just be?
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Faith
There are some things in life that you just hope you never have to do. One of these things happened to me this past Wednesday: I officiated at the funeral of one of our nieces, 21 year old Jennifer in Ohio. The cause of death is still being worked on but it looks like a brain aneurism took her too soon.
I have officiated at several funerals before but they were always for elderly people who were not related to me.
Over 100 people showed up and stayed for her viewing on Tuesday and again for the service on Wednesday. She had been in band in High School and I would bet most of the band was present to honor her. It was just unbelievable how many lives she had touched in her young span of time here on the earth. Jen loved people and she loved horses. As she loved and gave in life so did she in death.
Jen was an organ donor. The doctors were able to use her liver, kidneys and corneas. That is such a comfort to know that she lives on through the recipients of these gifts of life.
The age old questions of how can there be a loving God when things like this happen surfaced. How is pain and suffering able to coexist with love? What kind of explanation can I give? This is not a sin related thing. It just is and I have no explanation. Job comes to mind.
In the end I have to trust that God walks with us in this time of trial and that He cares. I believe, help my unbelief.
I have officiated at several funerals before but they were always for elderly people who were not related to me.
Over 100 people showed up and stayed for her viewing on Tuesday and again for the service on Wednesday. She had been in band in High School and I would bet most of the band was present to honor her. It was just unbelievable how many lives she had touched in her young span of time here on the earth. Jen loved people and she loved horses. As she loved and gave in life so did she in death.
Jen was an organ donor. The doctors were able to use her liver, kidneys and corneas. That is such a comfort to know that she lives on through the recipients of these gifts of life.
The age old questions of how can there be a loving God when things like this happen surfaced. How is pain and suffering able to coexist with love? What kind of explanation can I give? This is not a sin related thing. It just is and I have no explanation. Job comes to mind.
In the end I have to trust that God walks with us in this time of trial and that He cares. I believe, help my unbelief.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Witnessing History
I have been watching quite a bit of news broadcasts these past few days and been emotionally moved a lot.
Monday (usually my day off) was spent between the History Channel, which honored the life and legacy of Martin Luther King, Jr. and stations like CNN, MSNBC, and Fox as they each broadcasted the pre-inaugural festivities for Barack Obama.
I have usually voted for presidential elections but this is the first one when I find myself truly moved and with the sense of witnessing something important and historical. I find myself wanting to understand the political system better. I find myself wanting to learn more about Martin and the whole civil rights movement.
This is not part of my heritage. I was not born and I did not grow up in the United States. American history was not taught to me growing up. French history was. Twenty years ago I had a couple American history classes in college while Steve and I lived in Texas. I enjoy history, I just don’t have a lot of time to read about it as much I would like to, with the other things that I want to read and need to read. This is something I want to remedy.
I was surprised to find myself teary-eyed these past couple of days because I was 3 when Martin Luther King Jr, was assassinated. I believe what moves me is the dedication of one’s life for peace and justice to the point of accepting death as a very probable result of one’s involvement. The men’s dedication is not the only thing that touched me. With each of these men was a strong, dedicated woman and these men would not have achieved what they achieved without these women. What was true for Martin is true for Barack.
Whether one is Republican or Democrat (or something else), the hope that is currently present is undeniable and America desperately needs hope.
Hope is what some pastoral colleagues and I saw and felt when we shared Hawaiian pizza together (here goes the low carb diet) as we were watching Obama’s inauguration on TV. The pastor who invited us to her home said about the pizza, “if it is good enough for Barack, it is good enough for us” (and it was good pizza.) We had a great time together, sitting in this small living room. Giggled at Aretha Franklin’s hat. Commented on what we heard being said. There was this sense of unity despite the fact that we don’t all share the same views on several things (our host is a Unitarian Universalist pastor; we had a United Church of Christ pastor, a Presbyterian and me.) But we could all agree that it is time for a change; that it is time to work harder than ever toward peace and unity and we believe that this starts with us.
Now the danger is to place too much hope of the shoulders of Barack. His name means “blessed” but he is not the Messiah. The challenges are huge – and regardless of political parties and ideologies - it is going to take everybody working together to get us out of the mess we are in. Whether we agree with everything Barack is going to try to achieve or not, he needs our prayers.
Monday (usually my day off) was spent between the History Channel, which honored the life and legacy of Martin Luther King, Jr. and stations like CNN, MSNBC, and Fox as they each broadcasted the pre-inaugural festivities for Barack Obama.
I have usually voted for presidential elections but this is the first one when I find myself truly moved and with the sense of witnessing something important and historical. I find myself wanting to understand the political system better. I find myself wanting to learn more about Martin and the whole civil rights movement.
This is not part of my heritage. I was not born and I did not grow up in the United States. American history was not taught to me growing up. French history was. Twenty years ago I had a couple American history classes in college while Steve and I lived in Texas. I enjoy history, I just don’t have a lot of time to read about it as much I would like to, with the other things that I want to read and need to read. This is something I want to remedy.
I was surprised to find myself teary-eyed these past couple of days because I was 3 when Martin Luther King Jr, was assassinated. I believe what moves me is the dedication of one’s life for peace and justice to the point of accepting death as a very probable result of one’s involvement. The men’s dedication is not the only thing that touched me. With each of these men was a strong, dedicated woman and these men would not have achieved what they achieved without these women. What was true for Martin is true for Barack.
Whether one is Republican or Democrat (or something else), the hope that is currently present is undeniable and America desperately needs hope.
Hope is what some pastoral colleagues and I saw and felt when we shared Hawaiian pizza together (here goes the low carb diet) as we were watching Obama’s inauguration on TV. The pastor who invited us to her home said about the pizza, “if it is good enough for Barack, it is good enough for us” (and it was good pizza.) We had a great time together, sitting in this small living room. Giggled at Aretha Franklin’s hat. Commented on what we heard being said. There was this sense of unity despite the fact that we don’t all share the same views on several things (our host is a Unitarian Universalist pastor; we had a United Church of Christ pastor, a Presbyterian and me.) But we could all agree that it is time for a change; that it is time to work harder than ever toward peace and unity and we believe that this starts with us.
Now the danger is to place too much hope of the shoulders of Barack. His name means “blessed” but he is not the Messiah. The challenges are huge – and regardless of political parties and ideologies - it is going to take everybody working together to get us out of the mess we are in. Whether we agree with everything Barack is going to try to achieve or not, he needs our prayers.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
A prisoner of Jesus Christ
“…I, Paul, a prisoner of Christ Jesus…” That phrase has been echoing in my heart and mind these past several weeks. It comes from Ephesians 3:1. That was one of the lectionary texts (3:1-12) for Epiphany Sunday, January 4. On that Sunday, we recognized and remembered anew that all the world, Jews and non-Jews (Gentiles), has been called into the family of God. That is the mystery that God has given Paul, this first century missionary pastor, to tell the people. I preached on that. On how good it is to be part of the family but also on the privilege and responsibility we have been given also to let people know… To let them know that they are not too broken, or too messed up or whatever to come and have a relationship with Jesus. They are loved and welcomed.
That is an amazing message of grace. A message that I have and continue to be the recipient of.
“…I, Paul, a prisoner of Christ Jesus…” But that phrase keeps rattling within me. I have thought about it off and on as I lay in bed at night, reviewing my day, talking with God, waiting for sleep to come…
“…I, Paul, a prisoner of Christ Jesus…” The immediate meaning is that Paul is telling the folks he is writing to (Ephesians and others since this is apparently a circular letter, commentators tell us) that he is in jail. Scholars believe he was imprisoned in Rome when he wrote the letter. But what I also think he is telling them and us – and that is the part that gets me - is that his love for Jesus is so profound, so deep, and so powerful that it controls him. All of him. Every decision he makes. Every moment of his life…
That statement must have jarred the folks at the Ephesus church. By all accounts, they were great folks. Paul writes, “Since I first heard of your strong faith in the Lord Jesus and your love for God’s people everywhere, I have not stopped thanking God for you.” (Eph. 1:15, NLT) But then the writer of Revelation says this about the followers of Jesus in Ephesus “Yet I hold this against you. You have forsaken your first love. Remember the height from which you have fallen! Repent and do the things you did at first.” (v. 2:4-5a, NIV)
Paul is calling them and us to wake up, to not go through the motion of faith, to not play church. Instead he prays that passion – that fire in our belly for God and people – would be re-ignited.
There is something really powerful, really contagious, about a life lived with passion; in the best sense of the term.
I went to my seminary recently to a communion service in honor of Erland Waltner. Erland is 94. He was my spiritual director when I was in seminary. He is one of the most faithful, wise, grace-filled person I know. He has a passion for God, for people, for teaching… He and his wife are going through great times of changes and transition in terms of health and living arrangements. They have recently moved from the home they had lived in for years, across the street to the seminary, to a retirement place in Goshen.
When I read what Paul says about himself, I think of Erland. He is a prisoner of Jesus Christ. It is obvious God has all of him. He shines with a quiet, strong and steady faith. Erland is legally blind but the eyes of his heart and the discernment of his spirit are sharp. He could see right through the confusion experienced by this green pastor not so long ago. His passion and love for Jesus are inspiring.
I remember reading the newsletter from a local counseling agency and the director was talking about the passion that he has for what he does and the passion he sees in his colleagues and also in some of the people they serve. This therapist wrote, “The word "passion" itself has an interesting history in Christian tradition. It derives from the Latin passio, which meant "to suffer," and also "to allow oneself to be acted upon" ("suffer the little children to come unto me" reflects this meaning), and especially to allow oneself to endure suffering – as in Jesus' Passion.
Passion is what Paul had, what Erland has, what some pastors I know have. A passion for God, for God’s people which drives their life. This passion enables them to bear their cross.
A pastor friend was talking about that recently. He shared his deep concern for children and how they grow up in this society. He wants them to have roots, a solid foundation rooted in Jesus and His love. He says that he wants kids to have a faith which will enable them to carry the crosses that bring unspeakable pain and loss to all our lives at one time or another.
I want that kind of faith, that kind of passion. I want to be a prisoner of Jesus. I want people to see Jesus in me and for them to come to Him. Amen.
That is an amazing message of grace. A message that I have and continue to be the recipient of.
“…I, Paul, a prisoner of Christ Jesus…” But that phrase keeps rattling within me. I have thought about it off and on as I lay in bed at night, reviewing my day, talking with God, waiting for sleep to come…
“…I, Paul, a prisoner of Christ Jesus…” The immediate meaning is that Paul is telling the folks he is writing to (Ephesians and others since this is apparently a circular letter, commentators tell us) that he is in jail. Scholars believe he was imprisoned in Rome when he wrote the letter. But what I also think he is telling them and us – and that is the part that gets me - is that his love for Jesus is so profound, so deep, and so powerful that it controls him. All of him. Every decision he makes. Every moment of his life…
That statement must have jarred the folks at the Ephesus church. By all accounts, they were great folks. Paul writes, “Since I first heard of your strong faith in the Lord Jesus and your love for God’s people everywhere, I have not stopped thanking God for you.” (Eph. 1:15, NLT) But then the writer of Revelation says this about the followers of Jesus in Ephesus “Yet I hold this against you. You have forsaken your first love. Remember the height from which you have fallen! Repent and do the things you did at first.” (v. 2:4-5a, NIV)
Paul is calling them and us to wake up, to not go through the motion of faith, to not play church. Instead he prays that passion – that fire in our belly for God and people – would be re-ignited.
There is something really powerful, really contagious, about a life lived with passion; in the best sense of the term.
I went to my seminary recently to a communion service in honor of Erland Waltner. Erland is 94. He was my spiritual director when I was in seminary. He is one of the most faithful, wise, grace-filled person I know. He has a passion for God, for people, for teaching… He and his wife are going through great times of changes and transition in terms of health and living arrangements. They have recently moved from the home they had lived in for years, across the street to the seminary, to a retirement place in Goshen.
When I read what Paul says about himself, I think of Erland. He is a prisoner of Jesus Christ. It is obvious God has all of him. He shines with a quiet, strong and steady faith. Erland is legally blind but the eyes of his heart and the discernment of his spirit are sharp. He could see right through the confusion experienced by this green pastor not so long ago. His passion and love for Jesus are inspiring.
I remember reading the newsletter from a local counseling agency and the director was talking about the passion that he has for what he does and the passion he sees in his colleagues and also in some of the people they serve. This therapist wrote, “The word "passion" itself has an interesting history in Christian tradition. It derives from the Latin passio, which meant "to suffer," and also "to allow oneself to be acted upon" ("suffer the little children to come unto me" reflects this meaning), and especially to allow oneself to endure suffering – as in Jesus' Passion.
Passion is what Paul had, what Erland has, what some pastors I know have. A passion for God, for God’s people which drives their life. This passion enables them to bear their cross.
A pastor friend was talking about that recently. He shared his deep concern for children and how they grow up in this society. He wants them to have roots, a solid foundation rooted in Jesus and His love. He says that he wants kids to have a faith which will enable them to carry the crosses that bring unspeakable pain and loss to all our lives at one time or another.
I want that kind of faith, that kind of passion. I want to be a prisoner of Jesus. I want people to see Jesus in me and for them to come to Him. Amen.
Monday, January 5, 2009
The Story does not end with Christmas
Steve and I took down the decoration off our Christmas tree and put the nativity set away today. The Christmas season is a bittersweet time for me because we are away from family and we don’t have biological children. The celebration is different, the food is different than in France... It is a busy time. But still I enjoy Christmas – not the marketers’ version of Christmas, mind you – I dislike shopping most of the time; but I like the lights and the ornaments, many of which have a history. We have stuffed teddy bears in winter outfits on our couch. One even plays music when you squeeze its paw.
And I never get tired of hearing the Story or telling the Story in various ways.
From as far back as I can remember as a child, it was my “job” to put up the crèche and that tradition remains. We have a neat nativity set. It’s not the “santons” (“little saints” in Provençal,) of my youth, those hand-painted clay figurines, dressed in traditional attire, prevalent in the south of France. My little resin friends of today look right out of first century Judea. The plaster houses look like what I imagine the houses back then would have looked like. I enjoy setting the scene and trying to imagine what life would have been like so long ago.
People, in my crèche rendition, go about their every day business, oblivious to the miracle happening right under their nose. That part has not changed all that much, has it?
The wise men are even part of my recreated story despite the fact that scholars don’t believe they reached Jesus until he was a 2 year-old toddler and long gone from the stable in Bethlehem. There are 3 wise men – an assumption based on the three gifts brought – again, probably not accurate either but frankly it does not matter all that much. The point, as our lectionary texts Sunday reminded us, is that outsiders: Gentiles (non-Jews), dirty-stinky shepherds… believed what they heard, responded and came to worship and became part of the family of God. Power, as the world understands it, was turned on its head, redefined, on that day.
So there is a little sadness because putting things away means that another year has gone by. The lights are put away and familiar and beloved carols won’t be sung for the next 12 months.
The end of the Christmas season kind of feels like I imagine the disciples must have felt coming down the mountain after transfiguration. There is part of me that wants to stay on the mountain, dazzled by visions and light. But I am reminded that I can’t stay on the mountain. Life happens on the plain and in the valley and occasionally there are mountain top experiences.
But “God is in us, God is for us, God is with us Emmanuel”; that is what the Casting Crown song I sang Sunday reminded us of. He is with us all year long, whether we are on a mountain or deep in the valley.
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