Life

Life.

It's hot.

It's November, almost.

Political ads annoy me.

I have nothing to say.

My keyboard "O" keeps falling off.

Wonderful people grace my world.

I'm behind on homework.

Christians should tithe.

Tmrrw, cld.

Life.

Really?...

I just watched a commercial for a home healthcare business...a lovely brunette helps an elderly woman move around her apartment, vacuums, cooks, and sits and visits with her.  The tag line from the elderly woman is "It's just like having a friend."  Really?

I talked with my husband this morning about a church survey that shows that self-described "committed" churchgoers today attend worship twice a month.  Really?

Read an article in the NYTimes this morning on the popularity of "flock comedies"...a new genre of sitcom that the writer postulates is popular because of the extended time post-education and pre-children that is spent in "flocks" of friends.  He then describes parents who spend the same amount of time with their children as previous generations, but work full time.  What has to go is "friends."  So we watch TV to replace the friendships we no longer have time for.  Really?

Really. I can't help but think sometimes that it is time to reclaim our lives from this insane culture.  If we can demand healthy food options and green options as a culture, why can't we also demand sanity options.  Why do our elderly have to hire friends to care for them as they age?  Why do our lives revolve around every activity on Sunday but the one we claim is most important in our lives, or why do we let the rest of the weekend get so full that we feel we can do nothing on Sunday but "rest."  Why don't we have friends that actually can come to our homes?  Why, why, why?

My heart is a bit achy today.  I grieve youth who don't develop relationships with their peers at church because they are never there.  I grieve churches who flounder on Sunday mornings because attendance is sporadic.  I grieve community lost, disciplines not practiced, potential never reached.  I grieve the promise of abundant life that God holds out for us that we ignore because we are so distracted by demands that deplete us.

Is this the way we want to live?  Really?

Seasons...

I have spent much of my life in agricultural areas.  My husband is always pining for some big-city-life...but I am reminded again in this flat, farmland of the seasonal nature of life.

A rhythm exists here that you can't find in NYC...because you can't hurry nature.  Fields prepared in the spring hold the promise of new life...those seeds are planted...but no farmer can control whether they actually come up (despite the guarantee-to-grow on the seed packet).  The active growing season is exciting and requires hard work and daily investment in the field...though farmers tell you again that they are caregivers, not growers.  The life is still miraculous.

Now is harvest...seems pretty good this year.  Field after field transforms from busyness to fallow in about a day.  A plethora of farm workers and machines descend on the field for a short period of intense activity.  Then, nothing...quiet...sometimes regrowth...but regrowth that struggles and never really fulfills its potential.  Sometimes fields are plowed under....expanses of non-productive dirt resting under the harvest moon.

And then all is quiet.  For a full season, we rest.  Imagining for the next season happens.  Some preparation is inevitable.  Mostly rest.  Even if scurrying and planting and fertilizing was happening, nothing would grow.  It's not the right season.  Rest...pray...heal...imagine.  It's the season...

And then...resurrection...

What a gift.

Aging...

We are in McGehee, Arkansas, to celebrate the wedding of Natalie and Josh...eldest child of friends we made while Carl was serving his first church, and we were having first children and learning to be adults.  We were embraced in the arms of this tiny town in the Mississippi delta, nurtured and challenged, and then blessed as we moved into a different area of the world.
  
It's been a weird trip.  First, it's hard to believe any of us are old enough to have children ready to marry.  Natalie and Josh are about the age we were when we move to McGehee.  We are the age of those blessed saints that enveloped us with love.  Carl got a bit sloppy with the plane reservations, and instead of leaving at 8 am on Tuesday, we left at 8 pm...arriving in Little Rock at 1 am on Wednesday to rent a car and crash in a hotel.

I am not one to care what kind of car we drive.  POS cars (and if you don't know what that is, I'm not telling you on a blog...) have been par for the course and it really doesn't matter.  But at 1 am on Wednesday, I am standing in the airport parking lot looking at a wine-red Mercury Grand Marquis, feeling rather sick to my stomach and wondering if I have the spine to tell Carl he has to go back and get a different car.  I didn't tell him...but as I slid into the leather of the front seat...I know I aged 30 more  years.  The seats sit low...not helping the feeling I was some shrunken old lady tottering into the end stage of life...

Dinner tonight is with the young couple who are now pastor and wife of this lovely congregation.  They are the same age we were when we were here; we are the age of the stalwarts who kept the congregation functioning when we were the young couple.  My brain is completely rattled.

I am startlingly reminded of the march of time--the saints who came before, the saints who serve, the saints who will come after.  Natalie and Josh, Kenny and Sarah, you are blessed to be in this place that so often looks and feels God-forsaken, but provides the deepest care, feeding, and nurture of the soul--much like the rich delta land that encompasses it.  For those came before, who "raised" us...we are grateful and blessed and we lift you in prayers of gratitude every day.

And for those whose brains are rattling with mine...resisting the Grand Marquis while celebrating the ability to share the love we were given...well, all I can say is God is good...

Wayyyyy to Much

Problem:  Sadie Mae is out of dog food

Solution:  Go to the store to buy dog food.

Problem: The fish-based food she eats to control a skin condition caused probably by overbreeding (she       was an adoption for us...) is not available due to a manufacturing problem.

Solution:  Buy something else.

Problem:  Four aisles of choices...FOUR aisles...FOUR AISLES!!!

Solution: Sigh...

Problem:  Hungry people in the world.

Solution: Four aisles of dog food choices?

Problem:  Sin...

Solution:  Open for discussion...

Today, I'm walking CROP WALK to do a little something...I figure up and down four aisles will just about cover the three mile route...

Glee and God...

You know that any TV show that starts with the prayer, "Dear Grilled Cheesus" has to hold some true potential.  Jesus' image on the grilled cheese, questions raised about church and its relationship to GLTB persons, what is sacred, whether God exists...pretty heavy stuff for a pop culture show.

The joy, I suppose, is that the questions were raised.  The sadness was the only answers revealed were through pop culture songs--not that there's anything wrong with pop culture songs--but really?  we can only find secular music to express thoughts about who God is and how God works in our world?  I was actually eager to see which of the multitude of beautiful spirituals, deep hymns, gorgeous works of grief and hope, would be sung in the church.  What did we get?  Bridge Over Troubled Water...

It distresses me that while questions are asked, few will seriously consider church to seek answers.  Now, frankly, there are churches that I might walk into seeking answers--then walk out of disgusted.  But how hard is it to communicate that every church is different.  The argument that we can't get ourselves together to agree on things certainly is quoted ubiquitously when people don't want to go to church.  Why, when they hear one thing they don't agree with, do they claim we are all the same?

We have to stand up and speak the truth.  I really think it is our responsibility to talk about the existence of churches who seek answers in inclusive, humble ways--churches who welcome those seeking answers to difficult problems--churches who don't claim to be God, but seek to serve God--churches who seek to follow Jesus' example of loving neighbor and serving others.

But when judgmental/crazy/just-plain-stupid churches get the publicity (and they do because they are much more interesting in an hour show than inclusion/seeking/working-together-til-we-solve-the-issue-but-not-in-an-hour-churches), we sit silently--tacitly accepting and promoting the "wrongness" of the church.

Kurt's definition of human relationship as sacred at the end of the show holds some true appeal.  It's always compelling to define sacred in something you can touch and hold onto.  That is the fundamental power of sacraments--we can see and taste and feel the elements that point us to God.  But what happens if Kurt's father dies?  Does the sacred die too?  I think the relationship between Kurt and his father is, indeed, sacred, because it holds a connection to the divine.  It parallels/reflects what God has done with and for us--it is not sacred in its own existence between two humans.

We are God's children.  God "holds our hand."  And would Kurt have experienced the "sacred" as his father squeezed his hand if they had not had the "I accept you" conversation in the first season?  Would a human relationship maintain its sacred nature if violence or abuse was present?

But my point, if not lost in all the scattershot ways I responded to the episode, is this.  Thanks, Glee, for opening a conversation with the world.  We'll chuckle at "dear Grilled Cheeseus" and we'll think about the songs you chose to reflect faith.  But we'll answer the question not with the question "What if God was one of us?", but with the knowledge that God was one of us...God is one of us.  Step up, brothers and sisters, and speak the grace we know in Jesus Christ.

How Many Elephants??!!!...

I was listening to NPR this morning while completing mind-numbing early morning ablutions.  The question addressed was how much a hurricane weighs.  That led me to a number of follow-up questions.  Do female hurricanes have more problems with water retention weight than male hurricanes?  Do they weigh more if they have more muscle (so a category 4 is more toned than a category 2)?  Is there a healthy weight for a hurricane--one beyond which insurance rates go up or they have to buy more than one spot on the weather map?

But, seriously, this guy researched the weight of hurricanes--and here's the skinny.  Weight numbers are so large that the researcher decided to help listeners understand better by putting weight in elephant numbers.  (Weighing as much as an elephant...yeah, I can relate to that.)  One small, white, fluffy cloud--one--weighs as much as 100 elephants (that's 4000 pounds times 100).   One storm cloud which spends a good deal of time and energy "up-taking" moisture (kinda like eating chocolate or french fries)...the moisture this storm cloud takes up is 500 elephants PER SECOND (oh my), and the storm itself weighs 15 million elephants.  Hurricane Rita--100 million elephants.

We spend so much time every day in fear...worried about this and that...mostly things we can do nothing about.  I was struck this morning as I looked in the mirror and brushed my teeth with a comparatively microscopic amount of elephant moisture...this great God who holds up a cloud that weighs 100 elephants knows my name.

What do I have to worry about?

Risking our Lives for our Faith...

It's been a difficult week.  My frustration levels on some days grow like kudzu...even in one day they can overwhelm.  And most of the frustration revolves around money...money...money.... Money seems to wrap itself in a thick, sticky, impenetrable coat of fear, with a candy coating of anxiety just for good measure.  (And you thought M & M actually stood for something else!)

I know things aren't great.  10% unemployment is nothing to sneeze at.  But doesn't that also mean that 90% of us are employed?  Every church I know is panicked about budget.  Even those whose budgets are running ahead are not gratefully giving thanks, they are worrying that it won't hold.  Our collection of churches which constitute Salem Presbytery face the same issues.

So what can we cut...oh here's a good one--campus ministry.  In the midst of angst and depression about losing members...some half of our members in the last 20 years, we consider cutting campus ministry.  Is that really where we want to go?  Shouldn't we be raising those budgets?  Do we want to help our young adults stay connected with their faith journey?  Or do we mistakenly assume that we can ignore them in middle school because they are too hard and prickly to deal with, ignore them in high school because culture tells us they don't want to be involved with us, and then ignore them as they create their adult identities in college because we can't afford it?  


Mission.  Hispanic ministry really doesn't pay off.  They don't support the budget.  Never mind that Salem Presbytery's is the second fastest growing ministry in the country and a model for programs all over the country.  Never mind that we are called to minister to people and not profit from them.  Never mind that God has placed this ministry and the resources to serve in our midst.  Is our call to ministry or to fear, anxiety, and a bottom line?

New church development?  Not a chance.  We know that is not going to balance the budget and our last one didn't work, and we can't afford to risk anything right now.

Luke 17:33 challenges this stance we have taken, this choice we have made:
Those who try to make their life secure will lose it, but those who lose their life will keep it.


Things are difficult.  We are certainly not used to living in this kind of economic climate...this kind of fearful environment.  We are used to living the American dream of bigger, better, and more.  And as I see us frantically clutching anything to save our own lives, I see us also dying.  The harder we try, the worse it gets.  And so, I wonder...what if we lived as God asked.

So, here's where a wise man from Arkansas would say I'm moving from talking to meddling, but this vision is so under my skin that I need to say it.  If we were a tithing people, the PC(USA) could support mission to the poor and the weak and have money left over.  If we let go of our fear and let go of our money, God could do with us more than we can ever imagine.  The giving units just in my church, if they tithed on the median salary in this county (which most of us are well above), would be giving 3/4 of a million dollars a year to God's work through the church...triple what we pledge now.

People everywhere would give up everything to "suffer" as we here in the US are "suffering."  At our worst, we are better off than most of the world.  If I had a magic wand, which, of course, I don't...or if I could be elected dictator of the world, which, of course I'm not...or if I had any control at all, I would change things...

But, God is in charge, and God doesn't coerce like I might.  God asks--laying before us this vision...this vision of a church doing as God asks so we can do as God asks.  Are we willing to let go of what we consider "life?"  I would argue that, fundamentally, in our culture, life = money...are we willing to risk that life to let God work?

What kind of witness would that be to the world?  A tithing people would communicate a different message. We are not afraid.  We depend on God for our life, not our money or our things or our individualism.  We eagerly await and support the Kingdom in whatever form God brings.  We embrace our call to sacrifice--and God does not call us to sacrifice everything, but 10%...one dime out of 10, not very much, really.  Is that really even sacrifice?

It may not be much, but the way we think about life and money, it is risky.  It does require moving beyond fear and clutching and assuming if we don't hold tight, we won't live.  The question God continues to ask is are we willing to risk our lives for our faith.  The promise God makes is that risking death brings life.

I want the PC(USA) to be the institution that leaves behind all conventional wisdom about church.  I want people to look at us and see God at work.  I want to be part of a people who risk their lives for their faith and I want to see God at work in the trust we exhibit.

We don't need a marketing campaign to get "members."  We need to be the people of God--risking our lives for our faith.

Anyone want to take a risk?

BBQ and Sacrifice...

The Facebook post from my seminary-student daughter read: "'There is a fine line between sacrifice and bbq,' that is what I am learning in seminary."  Laugh here...but think about it some more.

Danger lurks in sacrifice as bbq...and great joy.  So on the one hand, the concept of sacrifice in the Old Testament was to be taken seriously...no fooling around.  If the sacrifice turned into an occasion for beer and brats, not a good thing.  The making holy, sanctification, of God's people was a gift not to be trifled with.

On the other hand, priests were allowed to eat the meat offered in sacrifice.  It was part of the support of the priestly class.  There were rules, but bbq was allowed.

So here's the interesting deal.  God's work to redeem us and the signs of that work are overwhelmingly significant.  Baptism is a powerful sign of God's love offered to us before we can even begin to respond.  Communion sustains us with the knowledge that God continues to work in and through us.  Scripture enables us to hear the voice of God.  Christian community gifts us with the experience of grace and forgiveness and the challenge to practice grace and forgiveness with others.  None of that is to be taken lightly.

On the other hand (again), God works in and through very ordinary people and elements to accomplish God's purposes.  The water of baptism is just plain water, communion is just plain bread and wine/juice...no magic.  God is so....well...God...that there is no way for us to know/see/relate to GOD.  But God loves us so much that God makes Godself known through the simple, the plain, the human.

So, there is a fine line between sacrifice and bbq...Thank GOD!

Seeing me...seeing thee...

Returned to classes yesterday saying goodbye to Saturdays for the next twelve weeks and hello to friends and community that is missed as the garage gets cleaned.  Luke 14:l5-24 was the peg on which the convocation speaker hung his remarks--the story of the dinner party.  A man invites many to dinner and sends his servant to tell them "all is ready."  They begin to beg off...work, family, life...all interfere with coming to the table.  So the servant is sent into the streets for misfits, homeless, wretched...all those who normally do not get invited to dinner.

Making the point in several different ways, the speaker challenged both our excuse-making and our outcast-inviting.  All are welcome in the Kingdom.  Do we respond or make excuses?  Do we bring the weakest and neediest in with us.

It was food for thought and food for nourishment because attached to the challenge was the invitation to communion...a dinner party at the Lord's table.  Elements were prepared, prayers prayed, and no one seemed to make excuses to avoid the table (OK...except me...does a wheat allergy get you in trouble not coming to the dinner? :))

BUT...the point was this.  As the row in front of me stood to go to the dinner...to be spiritually and physically fed with God's love and provision...the speaker's 8 year old remained seated.  She was not allowed by her faith tradition to participate in the meal.

I respect that there are differences interpreting these religious practices, and I know the arguments because I was a child of that religion who sat in the pew excluded from the feast for a good while.  The question kept hammering at my heart though...I hope she didn't listen too closely to her daddy's sermon.  She might have expected an invitation to the dinner...

And I wondered as I wondered about this later...what in my own practice do I not see?  It seems so clear that the child should be fed.  It's easy to "see thee."  I am looking more carefully to "see me" as the invited and as the inviting.

God, open our eyes...

Fall Cleaning...

Some people do spring cleaning.  I do fall.  Partly it is my job as we get ready to start graded Sunday school after a summer of intergenerational fun.  Partly it is necessary after being gone a lot in the summer and having loads of stuff "dumped" into my office for want of a better place.

I do it at home, too.  There is something cathartic about pulling dead plants out of the garden and detritus out of the garage.  The joke in my family is not to stand around too much or they will be out with the garbage....can't say that I'm not sometimes tempted.

I heard a radio segment yesterday about "people" who are given false information and then presented with a correction.  The overwhelming response is to "harden" their belief in the mistake rather than admit to being wrong.  Sigh...

When we believe in a God who has faced the worst possible consequence of wrongness--death--and prevailed, what are we afraid of?  My fall home and church cleaning is about half-way done. My fall faith-cleaning is going to start with not being afraid to throw out useless beliefs and open the way for light and air and Spirit to move and work in me.

Hurricane...

North Carolina is having a hurricane.  Last I saw, it was a level 4...perhaps to hit at level 3 if we were lucky.  The coast was battered most of the night and heavy wind and rain still makes its presence known.

My husband and I drank coffee on the back porch under a still, cloudless, blue sky.  The air was cool and the dogs spastic as usual.  Who would have thought a hurricane was even possible.

I am reminded this morning that the person sitting next to me on Sunday morning or standing in the check-out line at the grocery may be drinking coffee under blue skies or may be in the midst of gale force winds.  It's interesting that we can be so close and still so far away.

In the name of Christ...

To quote Anne Rice, renouncing the label "Christian" while saying she remains "committed to Christ."
In the name of Christ, I refuse to be anti-gay.  I refuse to be anti-feminist.  I refuse to be anti-artificial birth control.  I refuse to be anti-Democrat...My conversion from a pessimistic atheist...to an optimistic believer in a universe created and sustained by a loving God is crucial to me.  But following Christ does not mean following his followers."


If anyone would like to quote me:
In the name of Christ, I refuse to be anti-gay.
I refuse to be anti-feminist.
I refuse to be anti-artificial birth control.
I refuse to be anti-Democrat (or Republican)
Believing in a universe created and sustained by a loving God is crucial to me
     (and to the world, whether they know it yet or not.)
Following Christ means reclaiming the label "Christian"...
     not leaving the church to those who misunderstand who Jesus is and what following him means.

Growing Disciples...

Growing disciples is not some program for "children" or "youth" or a few adults who continue to come to Sunday school.  Growing in our discipleship and growing other disciples is something God expects of us 24/7/365...something we are expected to do in and with the Christian community.  The process started long before we came on the scene and will continue long after us.  It works through our participation and God's Spirit..

Craig Dykstra, professor of Christian education at Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary and Princeton Theological Seminary and now a vice-president for Religion at the Lilly Endowment tells a great story that explains how we teach. (Growing in the Life of Faith, p. 72, slightly paraphrased)
     This is precisely what coaches and mentors do— and work hard at doing well— when they are intentionally striving to help others learn to do something better. Often a coach will teach by demonstrating something, by making one of the essential moves and asking the learner to watch.
     Then the words begin.
           Questions: What did you see happen at the start of my swing?
           Descriptions: What I’m doing is planting my right foot and bringing my right arm close to my side to start the action of the swing properly.
           Explanations and reasons:  What that does is shift your weight and the momentum of the swing toward the target so you can hit the ball hard.
           Then, the coach suggests the learner try it…and the process starts again.

A definitive switch occurs in the ninth chapter of Luke. Up to that point, Jesus lived his faith, healing, praying, loving, serving without a lot of explanation. As he turns toward Jerusalem, we see him focus on growing his disciples, and suddenly, he is teaching at every turn. You can see the difference in the explanation/questioning/challenging when you look at the text. Jesus is not just living the way, he is teaching his disciples… using descriptions, explanations and reasons… asking them to try…and starting the process again.

That is what it means, I think, to help each other grow in the faith.  To reach our potential, we have to do more than show up and watch on Sunday mornings.  To help our children, we have to follow the same process with our faith that we do with our sports.  Participation...questioning...descriptions...explanations and reasons...challenges to try again.  To help ourselves, we have to be in relationship with fellow disciples who will follow those same steps with us...and us with them.

Often, we act like becoming a disciple is some mystery that only a few people can accomplish.  As I read the text and listen to Jesus, it seems a relatively simple process that we are never asked to master, only to faithfully follow.  I see it work with those who fully engage in the questions, the descriptions, the explanations and reasons. 

God's promises are ours already, but the potential for so much more is ready for us.  I wonder what we are waiting for.

Stepping Back...

David Brooks wrote a great article in the NYTimes about the weakness in our country's moral character, specifically lamenting the mental component.  He compares the early 1800's to today's willingness and ability to consider our weaknesses, our sinfulness, the possible "wrongness" in our positions and opinions. He says:
In this atmosphere, we’re all less conscious of our severe mental shortcomings and less inclined to be skeptical of our own opinions. Occasionally you surf around the Web and find someone who takes mental limitations seriously. For example, Charlie Munger of Berkshire Hathaway once gave a speech called “The Psychology of Human Misjudgment.” He and others list our natural weaknesses: We have confirmation bias; we pick out evidence that supports our views. We are cognitive misers; we try to think as little as possible. We are herd thinkers and conform our perceptions to fit in with the group.


Nothing is really new here...thirty years ago when I studied persuasion a la Aristotle we were discussing the same thing.  What is new in the mix is the ability to so completely avoid facts and opinions with which we disagree and the constant stream of unverified, even false information used as gospel truth.  Brooks says:
To use a fancy word, there’s a metacognition deficit. Very few in public life habitually step back and think about the weakness in their own thinking and what they should do to compensate. 


As I work on the bulletin for Sunday's service, I prepare the corporate, public, confession of sin.  If we take it seriously, we are publicly "stepping back and thinking" about our weaknesses, hopefully considering what we might do to compensate, and then rejoicing that even in our weakness we are forgiven and have a new start through the grace of God.


My young adult children are grieving the tone of the political debate and the apparent brokenness of our way of trying to live together as a country.  They wonder what can be done.  They wonder what they can do.  They feel hopeless and helpless.


Me too, sometimes.  But is that one strength of corporate worship?   If we worship in awareness and not in habit on most Sundays (recognizing, or course, in a very reformed way that our worship will never be perfect, from outside or inside...) does that allow God (and encourage us) to work on building our moral character?  Isn't it interesting that church is one of the few places left that "steps back" on a regular basis.  


Course, that doesn't mean that we can always see our weaknesses--even as church...but I suppose it can be a start.  Stepping back now...

Faith IN the mess...

So my Friday is my Saturday. Because I work on Sundays, my weekends start after work on Thursday and because I go to school on Saturday, my weekend ends at the end of the day on Friday. So Friday I am up at 5 (because I take after my crazy father who gets up at five instead of my crazy mother who goes to bed at five...both a.m.) and I read several chapters for class, empty the dishwasher, make coffee and breakfast, then I wash the dog, shower, and got ready for my "day off."

I usually have a nice cup of coffee with my husband, and then I hit the pharmacy and the grocery store before I go home to dust, vacuum, and do more homework.

That's not to say I dust and vacuum every day off. Sometimes I mow and rake. Sometimes I clean the garage. Sometimes I clean out closets or run errands.

What I can't seem to find is that idea of weekend that I thought I'd have when I was imagining what being an adult would be like. Walking through the lush green spinach and lettuce of a backdoor garden and smiling at the rabbits having a snack in your private produce department...reading the whole New York Times cover to cover with coffee, white terry robes, and a very handsome man in my very luxurious bedroom with a table and chairs, sofa, and, of course bed with breakfast tray...sailing in a beautiful boat with good friends and good wine...hiking the Appalachian Trail in very cool boots and shorts...dinner parties in your backyard garden at big farmer's tables with tablecloths and plates overflowing with beautiful food, candles, and no pile of dirty dishes waiting in the kitchen...do you get the picture?

I sometimes look for that in my faith. I want that faith that allows your head to glow with a heavenly light and your eyes to glisten with just the hint of tears of joy and fulfillment. I want a faith that allows me to turn water into wine and have a heck of a party with my 200 closest friends. I want a faith that allows me to walk on water without ruining the topsiders.  I want a faith that inspires people to want to build temples in my honor...a faith that packs the house and brings more in.

But I don't live in the TV world and the longer I live and the more I read of the scripture, the more I realize that the childhood perspective of miracles as magic is wrong.  Jesus eats with sinners...probably means bad food and less than opulent accomodations.  Jesus heals lepers...nasty disease in case you forgot.  Jesus challenges the status quo and winds up on a Roman cross for his efforts to love God and neighbor.

Faith is in the mess.  Faith is where we do live...not where we want to live...and that, I think, is the miracle.I don't have to create the fantasy to find faith.  It's in the real world with me!!

Amazing VBS Grace...

Honestly, it was a little hard to get "pumped" for VBS this year.  Our church lost two families to relocation, a couple more families were out of town, and so I didn't really know how this was going to work at all.  We do an intergenerational/missional Bible School...classes for all ages...but then everyone comes together for service projects at the end.  Adults help/mentor kids.  Kids entertain adults.  It's cool.  But I wasn't sure anyone would come.

It ended last night...and Grace (yes, with a capital G) abounded.  Here are precious moments that graced me:

1.  Our youngest, Caroline (14 mths), was fascinated with the huge mural of Noah and family disembarking the Ark on the wall of the fellowship hall.  It has been there for years and many of us who have seen it day in and day out for years, love it, but don't pay much attention to it.  If she was in the room, she was at the mural.  Look, a rabbit, an alligator, people, clouds.  She entertained us...she reminded us of the beauty that graces our lives...she was entranced by the story in living color. "Come as a little child."

2.  My oldest daughter remarked on the way home from the last night that being a kid at Forest Hills Presbyterian Church was like having your faith nurtured by one set of parents and 20 naughty uncles (and aunts)  who loved to spend all their time playing with you...she is right...and they also hold you accountable, teach you all they know, and love you no matter what!



3. We studied the Bible and laughed til we hurt...no pictures of this...we were too busy studying and laughing...

4.  Young adults who shared time and talent to teach and model what it means to be a disciple of Christ...coolest ever...ever.........ever...

 5.  Three generations together in faith...one yet to appear...

 6.  Good friends...

      7.  Generations...

8.  Hearts and hands for service...(weeding the garden at Northwood School to get it ready for the kids return)

        9.  Silliness...

.

10.  More silliness...












And at the end...our faith grows...our community thrives...our blessings abound.  Amazing Grace, indeed!

"Grow up"

Sometimes you get insight from God in a Mt. Sinai experience with thunder and bolts of fire. Sometimes God is in the still small voice that you hear after the cacophony of wind and storm. And sometimes it just appears as a “duh” in the most mundane of moments. Wouldn’t you know, that would be my experience. No excitement, nothing to write a book about…just a “I-can’t-believe-I-never-thought-about-that-before” revelation.

We were chatting at Montreat…high schoolers thinking about leaving for college in a year or two and college students talking about their experiences being away from home. Some kids leave their home church and quickly find a new church home. Others visit around and never find anything that “feels” right.

And I found myself saying, “You know, when you leave home as a freshman in college and start looking for churches, you look to find a place where you feel like you did when you were ‘at home.’ When you are in your home church, you are children to be nurtured. Everyone takes care of you, loves you, provides for you. The churches you visit see you as young adults, not as children to be cared for. When you join as a young adult, you are expected to serve the church and nurture others. So it doesn’t feel the same. But what I do know is that when you step into that adult role and serve others, your faith is nurtured and you do feel part of a community—that part is the same.”

OK…where did that come from? I have never had those thoughts before…but there is was, and, to me, it made perfect sense. Looking at my own children, the one who expected to go and “be served” never found a place that felt right while she was in college. The ones who went and began to serve others…found that church “home.” Through hundreds of years and millions of different churches in my life (OK, a bit overstated), I have known people who come in to be “served” and pretty soon disappear because church just doesn’t “feel” right. And I have known people who come in to “serve” who very shortly are so much a part of the community that you would never know they were “new.”

I have a new message that needs to be communicated to our children and youth before they leave home. There is a time to be “grown” in faith and a time to “grow” others. Now, while you are a child of the church, now is the time to be “grown.” When you leave home, it will be the time to expect to “grow” others. Some of the young people thought it was a bit frightening to leave home and have to be an adult. Perhaps it is, but we adults also assured them that it was fun and rewarding, challenging and rich with experience. I have a great childhood in the church. I was loved and nurtured and taken care of. But now as one who, like every other adult in the church, is called to nurture others, the depth of my faith and the sense of peace in good times and difficult times is one I wouldn’t trade for all the childhood love in the world.

God's word from Ephesians
Everything you are and think and do is permeated with Oneness.
But that doesn't mean you should all look and speak and act the same. Out of the generosity of Christ, each of us is given his own gift. The text for this is,
He climbed the high mountain,
He captured the enemy and seized the booty,
He handed it all out in gifts to the people…
[Jesus] handed out gifts above and below, filled heaven with his gifts, filled earth with his gifts. He handed out gifts of apostle, prophet, evangelist, and pastor-teacher to train Christ's followers in skilled servant work, working within Christ's body, the church, until we're all moving rhythmically and easily with each other, efficient and graceful in response to God's Son, fully mature adults, fully developed within and without, fully alive like Christ.

No prolonged infancies among us, please… God wants us to grow up, to know the whole truth and tell it in love—like Christ in everything. We take our lead from Christ, who is the source of everything we do. He keeps us in step with each other. His very breath and blood flow through us, nourishing us so that we will grow up healthy in God, robust in love. Ephesians 4:6-16 (The Message)

Thanks be to God…even if he did just tell us to “grow up.”

Back....

A bit of a vacation from life and blogging...probably more like complete collapse from a summer filled with extraordinary opportunities but no sleep. 

I have a million things to talk about and the sense that I don't even know where to start.  When people come back from retreats or mission trips they often cannot find words to express their experiences.  If they do find words, it's hard to get them to make sense to people who have never been on a retreat or mission trip.  Encounters with the holy are like that...hard to describe...impossible to experience through someone else.

And, frankly, I'm not sure anyone would count what I have done this summer as an "encounter with the holy."  I drywalled a house in Louisianna.  I coached youth in worship leadership...repeating the words "slow down" until the kids will never be able to remove those words from their psyche.  I hung out with kids from my own church as they got their summer retreat fix and explored issues of faith and life together.

Jesus didn't show up at our dinner table for fish and bread.  No burning bushes appeared--which was probably good because we certainly didn't need any more heat or humidity.  None of us were transformed in ways that caused those around us to want to build temples on our behalf.  We worked and sweated and laughed and learned.  We loved each other and hated each other.  We paid deliberate attention to our faith every day, but not in ways that would get us elected pope. 

But God was there with us.  And God was speaking to us through each other and the scripture and the experiences which showed us both God's kingdom here and how and the need for God's kingdom to come quickly.  And while I wondered for a few days if I was going to die, I would do it again tomorrow.  I can't articulate the impact, but I can feel it.

I Just Want to be Part of Something...

We were watching a slide show at keynote one morning at Montreat and a slide flashed of a young adult with the caption, "I just want to be part of something."  It really slammed into me.  I think,  more than any other saying about teens or young adults, that describes them exactly.  They want friends because they want to be part of something.  They constantly look for "things to do" because they want to be part of something.  They join gangs or get into real trouble because they "just want to be part of something."

That ought to be good news for the church of Jesus Christ.  Boy are we part of something.  And boy do we not act like it.  We seem a bit embarrassed to admit we get up on a Sunday to go to....church?  We can sometimes find a million reasons not to admit that we need that spiritual food along with our cheeseburger.  We find it easy to insist on practice for sports and arts and even school, but accept any excuse from ourselves or our children to miss "practice" for faith.

One of the delights of Montreat Youth Conference is the abandon with which teens 1) expect to have a God encounter, 2) wait impatiently to get in the doors at worship and keynote and fight for front seats, 3) find ways to support each other in faith, 4) share their faith openly and verbally with each other and the world.

And then we come home and under the weight of the world's disapproval we revert to our convenient, not-so-challenging practices...and we suffer for it--and God's world suffers for it.  Because as children of God, we are part of saving the world.  We are not doing the saving, thank goodness, but we carry the message of God's saving grace.  We do the work of God's hands in our world.  We point to the kingdom of God when it breaks through in the here and now; we look for the final completion of the kingdom in the future.

"I just want to be part of something."  Let me tell you...I am part of something. We are part of the biggest "something" that ever blessed the earth.  A week at Montreat youth conference will show you what might happen if we all lived every day as if it was Montreat week.  The challenge is put to us yearly to bring our Montreat blessings back to our everyday life.

Will we see each other on the front pews in Sunday worship?  Will we be waiting for the doors to open?  Will we daily find ways to support each other's faith journey?  Will we answer God's call to change the world with God's love as we share our faith openly with each other and with the world?