Journey...

I learned a bit about walking a labyrinth today. I have the privilege this summer of mentoring some new seminary students, students whose lives have taken a turn in a very different direction.

The point was made that, unlike a maze, a labyrinth has no dead ends, no wrong turns. This spiritual journey walk always moves forward. It twists and turns, but always moves forward. Sometimes it seems like you walk back where you've been before, but you in a different place. You continue to cover new ground.

It's an interesting practice, walking with each other on this journey. Were about halfway through Lent. We might consider where we've been, with whom we have the privilege to walk, and where we might be going...perhaps slowly, but going nevertheless.

Tell Me the Story...

Listening to The Moth, a storytelling series on NPR on a drive to Richmond this afternoon. A pastor told a great story of what we like to call the "baby preacher" days…those last days of seminary. He pastored three tiny churches and was preparing for his big Easter sermon.

Anyway, there was a youth event at one church and one of the kids got left behind and had to be taken home. Travel "home" was out into nowhere land. He dropped the kid off, started home, and ran out of gas.

He walked for miles "toward the light"…guess that in itself could be theological…but it turned out to be a roadhouse/bar/poolroom. He went in, looked among the bikers for a friendly face, found himself playing a game of pool, winning a game of pool, and then explaining he had run out of gas and needed to get home to rest before Easter.

And then came the question. One of the bikers said, "What is Easter anyway?" He had never been to church, never heard the story, never known anything but the chicks and candy in the big box store.

And while the pastor finished his story, I thought, "Wow. Could I tell the story to someone who had never heard it before?"

It dawned on me how much I depend on familiarity with the story before I even start. It's a crazy story. Could I tell it in a way that made any kind of sense at all to someone who hadn't a clue?

That's the Lenten challenge of the day. In preparation for Easter, can we tell the story to someone who has never before heard the story?

Ready…go...

Good-bye...

Saturdays are for good-byes. Good-bye to the weekend…Sunday starts the workweek. Good-bye to my husband who returns to Roanoke where he serves as an interim pastor. Good-bye to the dog who, at least this week, goes with him. Good-bye to good intentions of finishing massive amounts of household chores that didn't happen.

Good-byes lead to hellos, though. We can't start a new week until the old one is gone. We can't celebrate homecomings until someone leaves and comes back. One theory on the origin of Lent was the preparation of new converts for baptism on Easter Day. They gave up an old way of life for a new Way. Some would be martyred. Some would lose friends and family. Some would be accepted into new community and would end their loneliness or trouble. While we don't know for sure, I would guess they experienced life in discipleship the same ways we do. But to become disciples, they had to be ready to say good-bye to a former way of life and live in a new way.

Some good-byes are easy; some are hard. Some we expect; some we don't. But to live into the promise of new life brought by Easter, we must be willing to say good-bye. That may be the task of Lent this day…cause a new week starts tomorrow.

Baggy Pants…(yeah, you read it right)

A local city has taken action to solve a problem. No longer will saggy pants be allowed on city busses. The waistband of said pants must be no more than three inches below the waist. If they hang lower, they must be pulled up while on the bus. If the passenger refuses, they may not ride any city bus for the remainder of the day.

My relief is overwhelming. All our problems will now be solved.

Perhaps the season of Lent should be a time to discover the real issues of sin and brokenness and work toward reconciliation and healing.

We have time and space to do that now that the baggy pants issue has been solved.

Re-Defined...

Missed a day…but in my defense, I was being re-defined. First, a permanent crown. My husband says I should think of it as my coronation for "ruler of the world." I think it is just a bit of hell on earth. Whatever it is…I am crowned.

I am also now the parent of an engaged child. That happened last night. So we have a son-in-law to be, and a set of "new family" that redefines who we are.

You'd think at our age (which, of course, isn't far from 32 ish), we'd be pretty completely defined. After so many years, you'd think we would move toward completion. Not true. Every day is a new variable, a new experience, a new way of being. Every day we are re-defined.

Our Lenten hope, our Lenten journey, is our plea to the God who loves us to insure that our re-definitions move us toward God's will, God's kingdom, God's redemption for the whole creation.

Not many of us like this redefinition process. We'd often just like a bit of a break from the constant change (great oxymoron…constant change…). But if we have to be re-defined, let's do it toward health and wholeness and peace for creation.

For me, that means more sons and daughters in law and fewer crowns…OK?

Self-definition...

Self-definition. I am a pastor's spouse. 30 years today. We probably should have had a celebration of that ordination day. We made the mistake of having children, however. Mostly what I remember about that day is fitting into a real dress. Figuring out how to strategically nurse my three week old son. Being really proud of my husband, though I didn't truly understand the significance of the event.

I am almost a pastor. Now I understand the significance of the day. I also understand the significance of the gifts my husband brings to ministry. He shaped my life and faith journey.

The journey of preparation doesn't happen only in Lent. We are shaped our whole lives for the vocation God has given us. Whether we are pastors or plumbers, we are people of faith. We are defined first by God's love. Lent gives us the gift of becoming aware of how and by whom we are defined.

Redefining the Questions...

Great sermon yesterday on the story of the Samaritan woman at the well. She came to get water at midday because she was ostracized by the community. They didn't approve of her lifestyle. Bad choices all the way around. So because she was guilty and they were either mean or self-righteous, they couldn't even be in the same space.

The sermon made the point that the Samaritan woman made the choice to change and went back to the community that ostracized her to witness to the experience she had with Jesus. I found it interesting that  no one conversed about what "they" had done to the woman, what "they" might do if she returned to the community, how Jesus might get "them" to change before she returned.

There might be a Lenten definition here. How often do we define a problem in terms of the "other?" What must "the church" do to attract "young people" might be better asked, "What am I willing to do to witness to God's transformative power with the young people I know?" How is "the church" going to attract "new members so we can balance our budget" might be better asked "What is the price I am willing to pay to be sure God's work through our congregation can be done?" Why is church so "broken" might be better asked "What is my contribution to the problem I am concerned with?"

Perhaps we should take a lesson from Peter Block's ability to redefine the questions and the story of transformation we find in the interaction between the Samaritan woman and Jesus. The change we most effectively make is in ourselves. And in being transformed, we may find that we participate in God's transformation of the world.

Re-Formed...

Formative experiences. That's what is on my mind today.  Tonight is a congregational fundraiser for a mission trip this summer. We've been looking back through pictures and telling tales.  Along with that comes an inevitable faith assessment.

Trips are fun. You remember stuff. The cricket looking bug as big as your hand crawling out of a cardboard hut and the sinking feeling you get when you figure out that is your house for the week. Eight hours of painting in July heat and that sinking feeling you get when you realize dinner is a box of cold hotdogs, marshmallows, and chips. You have to start a campfire to cook the dogs. 

You remember the kid who spends a hour on the phone with her mom complaining that she was having a miserable time, that no one would talk to her and that she wanted to come home. Then she hung up and within 45 seconds, she was out the door, laughing and playing with her friends. You remember the adults who revert to kids and make the trips gloriously fun. You remember no sleep, bad food, and being lost most of the time. 

But what you really remember is the transformation. God seems close...tangible. God's people live in intentional Christian community...prayers and Bible study are as common as breath. Somehow in the mess and the hilarity, God reaches deep into our psyche...into those places we too often section off, protect at all costs. God incarnate becomes reality. But however it happens, whatever happens,we are transformed. And though we fall pretty quickly back into old habits when we get home, we can't ever go back to where we were before. We have been re-formed. 

Spring Sprung...

Today was beautiful. The grass is growing. The trees are budding out. The forsythia is blooming. It was warm and fresh. I had windows open and fans going. Spring…finally.

Except, two days from now, the forecast is snow.

It's a bit like the faith journey, if I might end the day with a completely cheesy metaphor…though it's true. We experience warmth and growth, new life and beauty. Then, we are socked with a cold spell, sometimes with other destructive forces at work.

So my advice today…wait til tomorrow. Things will change.

Respite...

I'm part of a difficult process as part of my job. Disagreement, competing priorities, different perspectives...all to be expected and all part of the process. But over time, there are days I am tired. I want to leave it for awhile.  Pick it up later.

Perhaps Lent is that same kind of journey. Self-examination. Wrestling with sin. Learning.  Preparing. Makes me want to take a break.

The gift of Sunday. Note that the official church calendar language says the five Sundays IN Lent, not the five Sundays OF Lent. Each Sunday is a celebration of resurrection hope. In the midst of all the things that fatigue us, Sunday worship is our respite. Sunday worship is our moment to live into the sure promise and hope that God's purposes will be accomplished, have been accomplished. Sunday defines us. We can let go of all the difficulties for the day. Jesus lives. Reconciliation and transformation are real. Breathe. Rest. Live.

And on Monday, we go back to work.

Grace and Garbage...

Part of who I am is "congregation." I think being "Christian" means being actively involved in a faith community. I believe that baptism into the body of Christ means we are inescapably part of the body…as crazy and flawed as that body is, we are part of it and it is part of us.

So, I am particularly sensitive to how this body gets defined--because it defines me. The irony is who I am and who my particular congregation is doesn't often define the body. Two examples bump up against each other today.

First, NPR told a story of a musician who self-defined as a "person of faith who had struggles with 'THE CHURCH'." Of course the interviewer dug deeper to discover what terrible thing "the church" had done. Turns out a woman had died of cancer and "the church" had deemed that death a result of a lack of faith.

That is NOT "the church." That is "a church." And that attitude is stupid and hurtful and not in line with the witness of the biblical text as a whole. You certainly can find a verse or two. You can find a verse or two to support just about anything. But the media does love to report the brokenness. And people do love to generalize that from "a church" to "the church."

The other story that irritated me was the story of help for High Point citizens who will struggle because they are food insecure. When power was out for three to five days, many families lost the contents of their refrigerators and freezers. As reported this morning, Food Lion donated $5,000 in gift cards for these families. That is probably true. But what wasn't reported is the additional $30,000 raised by churches and other worshipping communities in High Point. With less than a week's notice, the generosity overflowed. Good news about "the church" is apparently not a story.

Really, I'm not even sure that "the church" is appropriate unless it is followed by "of Jesus Christ." That includes every Christian church…and we do, in fact, have to put up with the "less desirable" parts of the body. They are part of us, and we should stand up and speak out against the hurtful, stupid things they do. But many remarkably small parts of the body cripple the body if they do not work or are absent. Opposable thumbs come to mind.

I know truly remarkable words and actions of grace that come from "the church of Jesus Christ." That, I believe, is how God defines "church." It is those moments and those congregations that have the power to overcome all the stupidity that we may enact intentionally or unintentionally. But we want to get the word out…insist on reporting the grace as well as the garbage.

Lent is a season of recognizing that each of us is a mixture of grace and garbage. Knowing that will prepare us for the miraculous reality of Easter, that God's power means grace will win over garbage, life will win over death.

My only point today, is that grace might win sooner if we insist on making it at least as public as the garbage.

More Daffodils, Ice and Snow...

Last night when I finally got home, I enjoyed the only benefit of Daylight Savings Time and went into the yard to pick the broken daffodils. I figured they wouldn't survive if their stems were broken and they might bring the hope for spring into my winter-musty house.

Add daffodils to the conversation about independence and interdependence and here's what you get. The flowers that were broken were the "outliers." They were the ones separated from the pack. The flowers transplanted which haven't yet formed large clumps of flowers were all broken. The large clumps that had blooms that pointed in a different direction from the rest of the flowers…snapped. Most of the flowers survived.

The survivors leaned in the same direction. Many on the outside ring had face-planted, but they supported each other somehow and the weight of the ice got dispersed. If the flowers were part of that community that leaned on each other, they survived.

Perhaps there's a Lenten lesson there…outside of PLEASE-MAKE-WINTER-STOP!

Here's to daffodils!

Raspberries...

If I could start this post with a giant "raspberry," I would.

I've been watching a detective show on Netflix that started in about 2000 and ran six seasons. Aside from the fashion sense of the characters (would a professional really wear a shirt that showed midriff at work?), it is most interesting in its statement on "individualism." The main character's favorite refrain is "I don't need help. It's my life." Sick? In trouble? Challenged on a case? Doesn't matter. She doesn't need help. She can do it herself.

And though she always needs help and constantly must be bailed out of trouble…she never learns that community is a gift.

The danger of defining who we are is that we tend to self-define in isolation when we should begin and end our definitions in the communities integral to our lives. If we cannot identify any community that is significant or helpful in our lives, we are in trouble. Humans are not meant to live in isolation, even "chosen" isolation.

All of creation is good until Adam is alone. Not good. We are not complete until we are in community. We are not born self-sufficient. Our very helplessness at birth ties us together. And yet, as we age, we insist more and more that we should do it ourselves…care for ourselves first…be independent…not rely on others for help. When we find ourselves in situations that require assistance, we are embarrassed, we feel ashamed, we spend all our time and energy trying to reclaim our aloneness, claiming that independent solitude is the pinnacle of human achievement.

Raspberry…

Defining ourselves during Lent should begin with relationship. Seeing each other as undeniably interconnected changes the way we live with and for each other. After the last ice storm, a large number of limbs had fallen into the yard. I was preparing to leave town for the week, and once the storm cleared, there wasn't time to clean up the yard before I left. And, I am not adept with a chain saw (Though at times I can cut pretty deep with words, they don't seem to be effective on tree limbs--believe me, I've tried.)

So a couple from my faith community shows up as I am leaving home on Sunday afternoon to cut and clear limbs. I feel guilty for leaving them with the mess. I feel like I should take care of my own business. And I feel SO incredibly grateful for the gift they offer. They spent their Sunday going from place to place, helping people clear. They said it was their worship that day. For me, it was the grace of God enacted.

I had to let go of the cultural insistence on independence before I could experience the grace. I don't know when or if I can "pay them back." They don't expect it. But the fact that there is not an immediate pay back intensifies the grace of the gift.

I wonder how much grace we miss because we are so insistent on taking care of ourselves. How many beautiful friendships do we lose because we are not open to connection. Too busy. Too tired. Too afraid of commitment. Too unsure about where our lives might go next.

Perhaps the people of God should reclaim community as a gift. Perhaps our voices of valuing interdependence needs to be heard. Living together and supporting each other, where no one claims or values independence might be one way God calls us to transformation.

Then raspberries can be for eating.

Ice and Snow and Daffodils...

Ice and snow…again.

Winter this year feels like a long Lenten season. Sometimes you want the joy and warmth of Easter and you just keep having those days of waking up to ice and snow. As much as you'd like to live in resurrection glory, the sin that defines our lives keeps coming back. It may not even be our "sin." The brokenness of the world around us seeps into our existence regardless of the barriers we try to build to keep it out.

I looked at my daffodils…the harbinger of spring. They are bowed over under the weight of winter. Their faces are pushed into the ground.

Sin and brokenness…they push our faces into the ground. I think the Lenten life may be like spring daffodils. I think, for today, we face-plant and are miserable in the cold and wet. And tomorrow, or the next day, the sun will come out and the warmth will seep through our bones…and we will lift our faces to the sun.

The Problem...or not...

Definition as Lenten practice is partly about how we have been defined by God. It is partly how we define ourselves in relation to God. And, perhaps, it is how others define us.

I was defined by a colleague today. "Every time you speak, I hear the love you have for Christ's church." That made me happy. I can only begin to tell you how tired I am of hearing all the "bad news" about Christ's church. The church is not a problem. We face some problems, usually of our own making. But when do humans not face problems?

We are defined by God as God's beloved people. We are charged to witness to God's desire to gather all things to God. We are invited to be part of that process of reconciliation and transformation and as we participate, we are, in fact, reconciled and transformed. So why do we let the word "problem" define us? Why have we accepted an opinion that the church is dying?

We have work to do. No question. We, like all other people in all times and places, must figure out how to witness to our fundamental truths in this time and place. We need to use language and images people can understand. We need to teach the traditional language that reveals timeless truths about who God is and how God acts in the world.

But part of my Lenten journey is the proclamation that church is NOT a problem to be solved.  Church, the community life of a gathered people of faith, is a gift to be celebrated. The gift of community brings together the resources we need to face the challenges of witness in our here and now. Community has always been God's call and gift.

Humans hunger for authentic, transformational community. We are a people who can offer that to the world. Thanks be to God.

Seasons...

Sometimes others say it better. Linda and Dwight Vogel have created a poem about the church seasons that I find chock-full of insight. It's from The Wisdom of the Seasons.

When we long for things to be different,

when we watch and wait,

we are an Advent people.

When we recognize the presence of the holy in the ordinary,

we celebrate Christmas.

When a sense of the sacramental is broken open to us,

And we respond by offering our material wealth, our worship, our lives and our deaths,

we live an Epiphany life.

When we wrestle with life and death decisions, seeking to live out our baptism,

we are in Lent. 

When saving victory and suffering are closely interwoven,

we live in resonance with Passion/Palm Sunday.

When death and resurrection become one word, and we are able

to dance on the gravestones without ignoring them,

we live as Easter people. 

When the dynamics of out mountaintop experiences are uncovered,

we experience the meaning of The Great Fifty Days.

When we are aware that the Holy Spirit empowers us and sends us forth

for service, ministry and mission, aware of both the diversity and unity of God's people,

we become Pentecost people. 

And when life seems mundane and we put one foot in front of the other

in order to do what needs doing,

we are in Ordinary Time. 

Life and death considerations...literal and figurative...as we are seeking to live out our baptism...

food for thought...

The Question Is...

We are a questioning people.  Who? Why? How? Those seem to be our favorite. Mostly we use them to point toward others and away from ourselves.

In the trivia department, did you know that Jesus was asked 183 questions? (Can't quote a source...came from the teacher of a class who I trust did his due diligence.) Jesus asked 307 questions. Jesus only answered three questions directly...others with stories and parables.

Lenten questions can help define who we are as disciples. But they can't be those questions that point to others. So here are a couple to challenge us:

• What is the "story" you tell most often about church? (The one you are wedded to and perhaps even take your identity from) (Positive? Negative? Real experience? Hearsay? Current experience? Past experience?)
• What are the payoffs you get from holding onto the story? 
• What is your attachment to the story costing you?

Dare you to do a little self-definition on this Lenten day. 

What's Next...

Spending the week with church professionals means a plethora of conversation about problems to be solved. I think we've defined ourselves as a giant corporate problem. That leads to defining each other as problem.  Our churches have problems. Our church must solve our problems. (Same is true for business and industry, government, non-profit...BTW)

I read Sunday that the Renaissance began with the discovery of a new land...the desire to explore what was beyond what we knew. It did not begin with a discussion of how to solve the myriad problems of the Middle Ages.

Perhaps Lent could be the redefinition the world as a crucible of new possibility and elimination of our problem-solving perspective.

Stripped Away...

"Giving up" for Lent, at its core perhaps, is at attempt to eliminate the distractions between us and God. I don't know if we are very good about remembering that. Trying to follow the 10 Commandments tends to make us hyper-focused on the law...forgetting the One who gives the law. Giving up chocolate may mean we only think about chocolate. Our language around Lent lifts high our challenge to "give stuff up" and but says little about how we are using extra time, space, money or thought to focus on or serve God.

Yesterday we worshipped with no power in the sanctuary. It was cold, colder inside than outside. It was dark. We have a dark sanctuary even with power. But we threw the doors open to the sunshine outside and we worshipped. As the pastor said, "It's what we do on the Lord's Day."

Because of the things we were missing, we all sat crunched up together on the side of the sanctuary where only a few usually sit. We could hear each other sing...not just individually, because that's not always pretty, but when all those voices are put together, we are transformed into "one voice," and that voice can carry a tune! We were "together" in a way we aren't usually. We baptized three beautiful children and enjoyed worshipping with their friends and family, celebrating the larger church of Jesus Christ.

Maybe "giving up" for Lent shouldn't be one thing...but a process of giving up what distracts, what separates us from each other, the excuses we make to not focus on God because of circumstances. It's not as easy; it requires small decisions all the time instead of one-and-done. But perhaps that's the purpose of Lent. Perhaps its a season of checking to see if we can be defined as a people of faith who know how to live in that small decision world, people who make many small decisions every day to keep God first in our lives.

Researchers tell us that decision making is exhausting for human brains. The more choices we have to make, the more fatigued our brains become and then we avoid decisions or make poor ones. We have too many choices. Perhaps Lent is a season of defining who we are by limiting our choices so we are not too busy, or too tired, or too distracted for God.

Power Surge--NOT!...

One of the questions I've been asked during Lent is "what powers your faith?" We here in this little town of High Point are living a Lenten metaphor. Many of us have no power.

EVERYTHING WE DO IN THIS COUNTRY IN ALL TIMES AND PLACES INVOLVES POWER!!!!!

I thought I was pretty adjusted until I was sending food with my husband today as he headed back to Virginia. I needed a container and found one in the dead frig with some really dead squash in it. So I dumped it in the sink because I knew I had to wash it by hand. We don't have power for the dishwasher, you know. So I dumped in the sink and flipped in the disposal.

Fail.

I just was thinking as I'm borrowing a home with power to wash a load of clothes and recharge the phone that we should be this plugged in to God. Cheesy, I know, but I wonder if faith was as connected to every part of our lives like power is…what God could accomplish.

I've given up TV, vacuuming, dishwashers, radio, any source of refrigeration, and the power garage door. At least for the next three days. It has been an interesting Lenten season.

"Giving Up" Lent...

I didn't come from a faith background where "giving up things for Lent" was practiced. We preferred judgment. Seemed unnecessary to consider our own shortcomings when so many were available in others. I heard of Lent only from my Catholic friends, and then only in high school when we actually went to school together. They "gave stuff up." 

So what I never figured out was why that was significant in the life of a disciple. Perhaps if you stopped to pray every time you thought about chocolate…which would be pray without ceasing for some of us…perhaps your prayer life would be strengthened. But I only saw people talking about missing chocolate.

I can't think of a time when someone has "given up" gossip, talking back to parents, giving up time to do someone else's chore at home, or giving up tickets to their favorite sporting event to work at a shelter. I think the Triune God must have a headache from eye-rolling on our practice of Lent.

Today I'm giving up coffee with my husband. Well not really. We just can't get out of the house. I KNOW! Today I'm giving up winter weather! 

What I need to give up is the jealousy I feel when people get national attention for creative lists of service for Lent. I've created those lists for children and adults in my congregation for years. OK. This year, I'll give up jealousy. 

If you figure out how to do that…let me know. Maybe that's why we give up chocolate instead. It's easier for one. And we get it back when Lent is over. 

Lent!…Lent?…lent (sigh)….

This is the one season with which I struggle. Love the idea of Lent. Understand the bits and pieces that swirl around the season. But really, I don't get it. I am still searching for images and practice that coalesces many ideas and perspectives…AND that make sense.

So that's the Lenten journey you can expect from this blog this year. It's a pretty personal quest, but perhaps it might address some of your questions and confusions as well. Comments are really welcome. I'd be interested in your insights, inspirations, and questions as well…

I keep pushing my pastor/colleague on this issue. He restrains eye-rolling remarkably well. Yesterday, when I pushed again, admitting my total lack of engagement (and therefore, inability to do the job I had agreed to do to put a lenten resource in the bulletin), he remarked offhand that perhaps Lent is a time of "Defining who we are."

It's the first phrase that has made sense.

What you quickly learn as you read about the origins of Lent is that there's little consensus. From "preparing new Christians for baptism on Easter" to "fasting and prayer for disciples," from three days to forty…it's a grab bag. Check out  Wikipedia and there is also a great summary out of Christianity Today. 

Perhaps the first lesson of practicing Christian discipleship during Lent is finding what deepens and develops discipleship, corporate and individual.

And for me, that is not giving up chocolate.