God Provides...

Much hand-wringing happens in today's churches...especially those in our very wealthy country.  Poor us...economy is weak...salaries are down...church income is down...down...down...down...

Why doesn't God provide for us?  We are, after all, trying to do God's work in the world.  Why is money so hard to come by. 

I think it is Shirley Guthrie who says WE are the church...and if you are complaining about the church, you are definitively complaining about yourself...because church is not some "other" out there...it is what you see when you look in the mirror.  And here's the jarring realization of the week.  God has provided for his church.  He asks each member of the church for 10% of their income.

Now God doesn't say give 10% to charitable causes and be sure a couple percentage point go to the church.  God asks for 10%.  The Old Testament understanding of tithe fascinates me.  EVERYTHING belonged to God.  That meant EVERYTHING was sacred...not for use by humans.  The practice of bringing the first fruits (the famous or infamous 10%) to the temple desacralized the other 90% and made it usable for humans.  Imagine the significance of a practice where you cannot use any of your paycheck until you get the first 10% to the church.

If our church tithed (assuming 10% of a median income in this area...which is probably lower than our actual income) we would literally more than double our church budget.  We would have so many financial resources we would really have to think about what to do with it all. 

Hand wringing is off the table.  Get out the mirrors.  God does provide.

Who is Your Village?

Lots to say this week.  Article in Time Magazine about Bruce Feiler, author of tons of great books.  Feiler was recently diagnosed with an extraordinarily rare form of aggressive cancer (only 100 people get this every year in this country) and faced his mortality more intensely than most of us do at his age...or any age probably. The presence of his three year old daughter immediately set him to thinking who would teach/model/tell her about...instill in her...the qualities that he intended to nurture in her as he raised her.  That led to a new book, Council of Dads, about the men he contacted and the conversations he had with them about helping raise his daughter if he died.

The cancer is in remission, but the idea of a council of dads is rooted in the idea of "body of Christ."  The hardest thing we ever did as parents was try to identify guardians for our young children in case of a disaster.  No one was exactly like us.  In the midst of the craziness we call church, I see its miracle...the sharing of gifts to "mature in the faith."  You see them...a mom who is super organized and has the ability to streamline activities so they are simply done and easily accomplished but who is definitively challenged in the arena of small talk...a wonderful speaker/devotional leader who can't keep track of their calendar appointments...the kindest, most caring person in the world who cannot read the church budget even though its been explained to him a dozen times...the member who is magical with elementary children but totally lost with middle schoolers...or the person who adores middle and high schoolers but cannot deal with a crying infant.

Some of us teach, some preach, some do pastoral care, some budget, some property...if we identify our strengths.  We do other things too...but many of then not so well.  But what an incredible way to construct a world...where different people have different gifts...where only in the working together are we able to accomplish the highest levels of expertise because we can all do what we do best.

I was in a committee meeting once where we were discussion personnel salaries in this church context and the proposal was made to pay everyone on staff an equal amount because all were equally needed to do the jobs we needed to do.  That is the kingdom of God...where the lion and the lamb, the secretary and the boss all give their best and are rewarded the same.

In the meantime...I am grateful to be part of a community that teaches my biological children and my church children the best of all skills and talents through the gifts of the community gathered by God to bring God's love and grace to the world.

Christ in the Headlights...

(Thank you Tom for your brilliance!  I am shamelessly stealing it!)

At a meeting last night we were talking about all the conflict that can arise in church communities between generations or political stances or worship styles or really anything else on which a human can take a stand.  We were talking about disciplining ourselves to remember that each party in conflict is trying to hear and do what they think God wants them to hear and do...we just tend to get smothered in the "oughts" of our own preferences.  Tom suggested it is like a bunch of cars with headlights on bright pointing at each other.  Everyone is blinded by the lights to anything outside their own car.

Remembering to turn our cars to point toward the true "road map" if you want to milk the metaphor...looking toward Jesus Christ...reading the biblical text together...praying together..."driving" together...suddenly we can see the road ahead and we are traveling it together.  The potholes are illuminated and the company is moving forward--still in our own way with our own gifts and kind of car...but together and not blinded by each other.

My picture of faith for the day...

Disturbance...

I was reading the newspaper and the headline story is this one about the Mumbai terrorist that they caught getting a death sentence.  I personally think the death penalty is barbaric, but it is a legal consequence in many judicial systems.  So, I expected a death sentence, but not the disturbance I got.

Look at the picture with the headline:

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/05/07/world/asia/07mumbai.html?hp










The facial expression suits the winning of a lottery...the birth of a child...the opening of a business...the celebration of an anniversary.  NOT the killing of a human being.

I know we live in the "between times."  I know sometimes there are no good answers.  I know that the terrorist "deserved" death...I know we all are guilty of behaviors that lead to the deaths of others, even if we don't plan and implement those deaths.  But should we celebrate like this?

The death of a human created in the image of God should disturb us all any time, any where.  We may implement a human consequence, but we should do so fully aware of the grace that God has extended us and weeping for the brokenness we cannot control.

God forgive us our sins.

Is God Around?

Just finished Jodi Picoult's book Keeping Faith about a seven year old girl who sees and talks to God.  She's a great writer and her books are page turners--but she is not a strong ending writer...If you are going to read the book and insist on being totally surprised...go read someone else's blog.  I'm not spoiling all the ending, just the part about God.

So the whole book is set up to illustrate the inexplicable miracle of faith and how one person's experience touches others.  Even the most skeptical and non-religious around Faith (the child) have to at least consider the possibility of God's love and existence.  No threats of hell, no condemnations...just this presence of loving and healing, and interestingly, suffering.

But at the end of the book, after all the decisions are made (and those I'm not spoiling for you), Faith goes to bed and seeks God and "no one is there."

Why is it that if we are not literally seeing God we assume no one is there and we are not being listened to.  Why do we make the leap that the reality of God's existence is only in the visible, physical presence.  No question that God is often difficult to sense...feelings of God's absence are common...we often can't see where God is or where we are in God.  No argument there.  But understanding God as the creator of our world, the giver of the grace we call Jesus Christ, the gift of salvation for all people...why would we assume that just because we cannot see or feel the work, that God is not working.

I've often wondered what was wrong with the Hebrew people who were brought out of Egyptian slavery by the visible power of God and as soon as things got rough in the wilderness, insisted God was not with them.  Ever had an experience with your child that after feeding them meals, taking them to school and activities, problem-solving with them, perhaps even treating them to ice-cream or allowing them to have friends over, washing their clothes, cleaning their rooms, providing their lodging and sustenance with your own job...then at then end of the day when they do not get the requested designer jeans the charge is..."You just don't love me!"

Ridiculous, right?  But the same assumption is fine when it is us and God.  Oh, poor Faith.  God abandoned her to the evils of the world.  She can no longer see God and no one is listening.

Eugene Peterson in his book Practice Resurrection, reminds us that "All Christian spirituality is thoroughly incarnational--in Jesus, to be sure, but also in us."  Growing up in faith means recognizing that most of us, most of the time, will experience the presence of God in and through other humans, in and through creation, in and through the discipline of serving others.

In a nutshell, the ending of the book made me mad.  God provided a wealth of love and security and healing in Faith's life...even provided the miracle of visible presence that most of us never experience.  Having experienced the grace of God through incarnational gifts from other humans, having read the history of God's work in the world in the biblical texts and in other people's stories, I recognize that God is at work even when I can't define God's work or perhaps even see it.  Ephesians challenges us to "grow up" and assume the presence and not the absence of God.  The lack of designer jeans does not equate to a lack of love from a parent.  The lack of being able to touch and talk to God in any form does not equate to the absence of God in our lives.

(I'm stepping off my soapbox...now...)

Identity...

I've never found those "become a fan" things that the kids click on all the time (on Facebook)...a fan of "Mom, you're not mad because I talked back, you're mad because I'm right," or "no reception," or "sweats, hoodies, and a messy bun," or "you."  Won't go looking either...but it is an interesting way to claim an identity. 

Claiming identity in this culture typically revolves around what car you drive, house you buy, clothes you wear, groups you join.  Other cultures base identity in geography, skin color, or family/clan group.  The difference, it seems, is between who you are (other cultures) and what you do (us). 

Is that why it is so hard for us to live into an identity given to us by God without having to "do" something to earn it?  Is that why it is so hard to understand what God has done for us to claim us as God's own?  Is that why it is so easy to attempt to define and put boundaries/rules around the "appropriate" life with God when God keeps trying to get us to live in freedom and grace?

Antiques vs. Junk...

A long weekend at the beach yields interesting possibilities.  Yesterday afternoon...junkin'.  We went to four little stores right together...three belongs to one person...small houses that flowed into each other and were filled literally with all kinds of junk and art.  The downside is that what is classified as antique/junk now is what I grew up with as a child...(new experience and no comments needed from the young peanut gallery--it will happen to you, too...)  The upside is what it does to your imagination...looking at all kids of weird things and imagining what you might do with them to re-purpose them.  You would never want to mash the potatoes with the rusty potato masher, but it might make a cool little planter/window box stuck upside down in the dirt as "utensil flowers" with some interesting foliage.

The second "store" was one house with all really nice antiques/art/objects...OK, aside from making my nursing school daughter laugh, I don't know what you would really do with a porcelain bedpan...but everything was in good condition.  It was all interesting to look at, but did nothing to stimulate my imagination.  Really, all I wanted to do was go somewhere else.  I wasn't much interested in filling my life with old things that were too nice to stick upside down in a pile of dirt to make someone smile...

I was thinking about the church in the same way.  We are either a bunch of rusty, broken, shabby items that eagerly wait to be re-purposed in ways that bring about the Kingdom of God, or we are perfect, old items that no one has much use for except to furnish the formal parlor while the rest of life happens in the kitchen...or the yard...or the neighborhood...

Albert Einstein on Faith...

(I don't agree with every part of the theology in this little piece sent to me by a friend...but it is certainly fun reading...)

 

In a College classroom with a professor teaching a philosophy lesson.......

'Let me explain the problem science has with religion.'

The atheist professor of philosophy pauses before his class and then asks one of his new students to stand.

'You're a Christian, aren't you, son?'

'Yes sir,' the student says.

'So you believe in God?'

'Absolutely.. '

'Is God good?'

'Sure! God's good.'

'Is God all-powerful? Can God do anything?'

'Yes'

'Are you good or evil?'

 

'The Bible says I'm evil.'

The professor grins knowingly. 'Aha! The Bible! He considers for a moment. 'Here's one for you. Let's say there's a sick person over here and you can cure him. You can do it. Would you help him? Would you try?'

'Yes sir, I would.'

'So you're good...!'

'I wouldn't say that.'

'But why not say that? You'd help a sick and maimed person if you could. Most of us would if we could. But God doesn't.'

 

The student does not answer, so the professor continues.

'He doesn't, does he? My brother was a Christian who died of cancer, even though he prayed to Jesus to heal him. How is this Jesus good? Can you answer that one?'

The student remains silent.

 

'No, you can't, can you?' the professor says. He takes a sip of water from a glass on his desk to give the student time to relax. 'Let's start again, young fella. Is God good?'

'Er..yes,' the student says.

'Is Satan good?'

The student doesn't hesitate on this one. 'No.'

'Then where does Satan come from?'

The student falters.. 'From God'

'That's right.. God made Satan, didn't he? Tell me, son. Is there evil in this world?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Evil's everywhere, isn't it? And God did make everything, correct?'

'Yes'

'So who created evil?' The professor continued, 'If God created everything, then God created evil, since evil exists, and according to the principle that our works define who we are, then God is evil.'

Again, the student has no answer.

 

'Is there sickness? Immorality? Hatred? Ugliness? All these terrible things, do they exist in this world?'

The student squirms on his feet.

 

'Yes.'

'So who created them?'

The student does not answer again, so the professor repeats his question. 'Who created them?' There is still no answer. Suddenly the lecturer breaks away to pace in front of the classroom. The class is mesmerized. 'Tell me,' he continues onto another student. 'Do you believe in Jesus Christ, son?'

The student's voice betrays him and cracks.

 

'Yes, professor, I do.'

The old man stops pacing. 'Science says you have five senses you use to identify and observe the world around you. Have you ever seen Jesus?'

'No sir.. I've never seen Him.'

'Then tell us if you've ever heard your Jesus?'

'No, sir, I have not.'

'Have you ever felt your Jesus, tasted your Jesus or smelt your Jesus? Have you ever had any sensory perception of Jesus Christ, or God for that matter?'

'No, sir, I'm afraid I haven't.'

'Yet you still believe in him?'

'Yes'

'According to the rules of empirical, testable, demonstrable protocol, science says your God doesn't exist. What do you say to that, son?'

'Nothing,' the student replies. 'I only have my faith.'

'Yes, faith,' the professor repeats. 'And that is the problem science has with God. There is no evidence, only faith.'

The student stands quietly for a moment, before asking a question of His own.

 

'Professor, is there such thing as heat?'

' Yes.

'And is there such a thing as cold?'

'Yes, son, there's cold too.'

'No sir, there isn't.'

The professor turns to face the student, obviously interested.  The room suddenly becomes very quiet.

 

The student begins to explain.

 

'You can have lots of heat, even more heat, super-heat, mega-heat, unlimited heat, white heat, a little heat or no heat, but we don't have anything called 'cold'. We can hit down to 458 degrees below zero, which is no heat, but we can't go any further after that. There is no such thing as cold; otherwise we would be able to go colder than the lowest -458 degrees. Every body or object is susceptible to study when it has or transmits energy, and heat is what makes a body or matter have or transmit energy. Absolute zero (-458 F) is the total absence of heat.

 

You see, sir, cold is only a word we use to describe the absence of heat.  We cannot measure cold. Heat we can measure in thermal units because heat is energy. Cold is not the opposite of heat, sir, just the absence of it.'

Silence across the room. A pen drops somewhere in the classroom, sounding like a hammer.

'What about darkness, professor. Is there such a thing as darkness?'

'Yes,' the professor replies without hesitation. 'What is night if it isn't darkness?'

'You're wrong again, sir. Darkness is not something; it is the absence of something.. You can have low light, normal light, bright light, flashing light, but if you have no light constantly you have nothing and it's called darkness, isn't it? That's the meaning we use to define the word. In reality, darkness isn't. If it were, you would be able to make darkness darker, wouldn't you?'

The professor begins to smile at the student in front of him. This will be a good semester.

 

'So what point are you making, young man?'

'Yes, professor. My point is, your philosophical premise is flawed to start with, and so your conclusion must also be flawed.'

The professor's face cannot hide his surprise this time. 'Flawed?

 

Can you explain how?'

'You are working on the premise of duality,' the student explains.. 'You argue that there is life and then there's death; a good God and a bad God. You are viewing the concept of God as something finite, something we can measure. Sir, science can't even explain a thought.' 'It uses electricity and magnetism, but has never seen, much less fully understood either one. To view death as the opposite of life is to be ignorant of the fact that death cannot exist as a substantive thing. Death is not the opposite of life, just the absence of it.' 'Now tell me, professor. Do you teach your students that they evolved from a monkey?'

'If you are referring to the natural evolutionary process, young man, yes, of course I do.'

'Have you ever observed evolution with your own eyes, sir?'

The professor begins to shake his head, still smiling, as he realizes where the argument is going. A very good semester, indeed.

'Since no one has ever observed the process of evolution at work and cannot even prove that this process is an on-going endeavor, are you not teaching your opinion, sir? Are you now not a scientist, but a preacher?'

The class is in uproar. The student remains silent until the commotion has subsided.

 

'To continue the point you were making earlier to the other student, let me give you an example of what I mean.' The student looks around the room. 'Is there anyone in the class who has ever seen the professor's brain?' The class breaks out into laughter. 'Is there anyone here who has ever heard the professor's brain, felt the professor's brain, touched or smelt the professor's brain? No one appears to have done so. So, according to the established rules of empirical, stable, demonstrable protocol, science says that you have no brain, with all due respect, sir.' 'So if science says you have no brain, how can we trust your lectures, sir?'

 

Now the room is silent.. The professor just stares at the student, his face unreadable. Finally, after what seems an eternity, the old man answers. 'I Guess you'll have to take them on faith.'

'Now, you accept that there is faith, and, in fact, faith exists with life,' the student continues. 'Now, sir, is there such a thing as evil?'

 

Now uncertain, the professor responds, 'Of course, there is. We see it Everyday. It is in the daily example of man's inhumanity to man... It is in The multitude of crime and violence everywhere in the world. These manifestations are nothing else but evil.'

To this the student replied, 'Evil does not exist sir, or at least it does not exist unto itself. Evil is simply the absence of God. It is just like darkness and cold, a word that man has created to describe the absence of God. God did not create evil. Evil is the result of what happens when man does not have God's love present in his heart. It's like the cold that comes when there is no heat or the darkness that comes when there is no light.'

The professor sat down.

Albert Einstein wrote a book titled God vs Science in 1921....

Resurrection Eyes

Spend any time on any news channel and you quickly learn that we live in desperate times and there is no hope.  For any topic you can name, you can find terrible news.  Even the church is disappearing...or so say the experts/pundits.

And in the midst of this, folks like us continue to attend church, continue to live in the messiness of community, continue to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, heal the sick...even when our efforts fall far short of our call.

Seeing life with resurrection eyes means focusing on the good that comes from the grace of God.  Sometimes resurrection is hard to see...but it is there for the seeing.  Living resurrection lives means learning to see God at work and not sin at work.  Sin never wins...even though it's sometimes hard to see that.  Our history has shown us that God is at work.  Our present is our opportunity to show the world that God is at work.

Raise a child in the church...

I overheard a conversation in the coffee shop between two "church people."  After discussing hymns and such, one said to the other, "I raised my kids in the church, but they don't have much use for it now."  Frankly, had I been raised "in the church", I would have much use for it either.  The church is a weird institution full of people who are fully human and boy can we play out our humanness...even in a place that is supposed to be God-focused.

What I wanted to say to that guy was, "There is a difference between raising children in the church and raising children in the faith."  Raising folks "in the church" is more of a club membership idea...we go to church to get something "out of it"...we go because its expected behavior...we go because we "ought to" as members.  But it's primarily about us so if we aren't "being fed"...we bail officially or unofficially...

If I make church participation a matter of membership, I don't have much use for it either.  Church membership is definitively one of the hardest things I do in life.  Sometimes I hate the humanness evident in the church community...all church communities, not just my particular community.  Sometimes I think why bother, most folks don't "have much need for the church," so why are we holding on...The "emerging church" movement claims the death of church as doctrine...who needs the institutional church?

Church as a matter of faith is a completely different focus.  Barth suggests that as we "believe in" the being and work of the Triune God, so we "believe in" the church as the body of Christ in the world.  The very first church communities were no more "together," no less "human" than we are (just read the epistles if you are not convinced there were problems).  But to be grafted into Christ as a Christian means by definition we are grafted into the body that is called the church.  It is not always easy or rewarding...but it is our identity and our way of being in the world.  We do not get to choose church membership.  It chooses us...church is chosen for us as our way of being the "provisional representation of God in the world" by God incarnate in Christ and it is sustained today through the work of the Holy Spirit.

Being raised in the church means attending until you no longer get something you think you want from the church.  Being raised in the faith (at whatever age) means you are called into the body of Christ to serve...and it will never be easy...but history shows that faith is nurtured by the sacrifices we are called to make in the community and in the world.  Being part of a church is seldom easy, but it will bring joy and reward and deep gratitude when we get ourselves out of the way and let the Spirit work.

Test of Faith...

Lot of studying in the prophets this semester.  That means a lot of "put your money where your mouth is" talk.  Prophets consistently and demandingly insist on doing justice, loving kindness, and walking humbly with your God.  So daughter number two comes in on Friday and says a friend of hers from school will be homeless as of Saturday and she invited him to stay with us.

Immediately my brain kicks into protective mother mode.  Is the guy trustworthy?  Is he one of those weird adults who always lives in crisis and will he stretch a weekend into weeks or years?  Is it safe for my 80 year old mother?  for us?  for my daughter? 

On the other hand, I'm thinking we should respond to the need.  We have the space.  Maybe God is calling.

Protective mother mode...

Responsive person of faith mode...

Protective mother...

Responsive person...

Then Dad gets in on the act.  At least all my thoughts were in my head.  What actually came out of my mouth was "do what you think is right."  His thoughts were coming out his mouth...and they were all the same concerns I had.  But they sounded even worse when I heard them.  Such an ability we humans have to rationalize and justify.  I couldn't see how we could refuse.  So let him come...

Turns out he got his permanent housing from the school at the last minute and didn't need to come.  But in worship Sunday morning the call to worship has us saying that we're willing to give up our fear if Jesus calls. 

I'm reminded especially this weekend, that a life of obedient faith requires risk and trust.  Perhaps not stupidity, but openness to what the world might consider foolishness. 

And then there was a tornado...go figure.

Sermon for Presbyterian People in Exile...

What I might preach someday if I was really, really brave.........or if God really, really insisted...

(this one is loooooong...)

Isaiah 58: 1-14 (from The Message)

1-3 "Shout! A full-throated shout! Hold nothing back—a trumpet-blast shout!
Tell my people what's wrong with their lives,
face my family Jacob with their sins!
They're busy, busy, busy at worship,
and love studying all about me.
To all appearances they're a nation of right-living people—
law-abiding, God-honoring.
They ask me, 'What's the right thing to do?'
and love having me on their side.
But they also complain,
'Why do we fast and you don't look our way?
Why do we humble ourselves and you don't even notice?'


3-5"Well, here's why:


"The bottom line on your 'fast days' is profit.
You drive your employees much too hard.
You fast, but at the same time you bicker and fight.
You fast, but you swing a mean fist.
The kind of fasting you do
won't get your prayers off the ground.
Do you think this is the kind of fast day I'm after:
a day to show off humility?
To put on a pious long face
and parade around solemnly in black?
Do you call that fasting,
a fast day that I, God, would like?


6-9"This is the kind of fast day I'm after:
to break the chains of injustice,
get rid of exploitation in the workplace,
free the oppressed,
cancel debts.
What I'm interested in seeing you do is:
sharing your food with the hungry,
inviting the homeless poor into your homes,
putting clothes on the shivering ill-clad,
being available to your own families.
Do this and the lights will turn on,
and your lives will turn around at once.
Your righteousness will pave your way.
The God of glory will secure your passage.
Then when you pray, God will answer.
You'll call out for help and I'll say, 'Here I am.'
A Full Life in the Emptiest of Places


9-12"If you get rid of unfair practices,
quit blaming victims,
quit gossiping about other people's sins,
If you are generous with the hungry
and start giving yourselves to the down-and-out,
Your lives will begin to glow in the darkness,
your shadowed lives will be bathed in sunlight.
I will always show you where to go.
I'll give you a full life in the emptiest of places—
firm muscles, strong bones.
You'll be like a well-watered garden,
a gurgling spring that never runs dry.
You'll use the old rubble of past lives to build anew,
rebuild the foundations from out of your past.
You'll be known as those who can fix anything,
restore old ruins, rebuild and renovate,
make the community livable again. 13-14"If you watch your step on the Sabbath
and don't use my holy day for personal advantage,
If you treat the Sabbath as a day of joy,
God's holy day as a celebration,
If you honor it by refusing 'business as usual,'
making money, running here and there—
Then you'll be free to enjoy God!
Oh, I'll make you ride high and soar above it all.
I'll make you feast on the inheritance of your ancestor Jacob."
Yes! God says so

Things are not good in the mainline protestant church...haven't been good for awhile. We've lost almost 50% of our membership since 1965. In the ten years from 1997 to 2007, the Presbyterian Church added 307 new church developments, but we dissolved 609 congregations. In the 1940's and 50's we were king of the hill, religiously, socially, and politically. (from Andrew McLachlan, "This is the Church, This is the Steeple, Look Inside and...?" Board of Pensions, PC(USA) Today, things are not good in the mainline church.

But, we've tried. God knows, we've tried. We've added 'contemporary services.' We've remodeled our sanctuaries to include the latest electronic gadgets and comfort. We serve Starbucks coffee with our Krispy Kreme donuts. We've built entirely new facilities that don't even look like churches. There's a bill board between High Point and Charlotte that reads "Church for people who don't like Church." We've dropped the word "Presbyterian from our signs. We've watered down our theology and polity so it looks just like every other mainline church. We've even constructed services with no prayers and no scripture readings because that stuff is sometimes confusing and we want to welcome the unchurched because we really need more members!...but today...today things are not good in the mainline Presbyterian church.

We've worried about our curb appeal. We've bought vans to pick people up. We've sent mailings to the community. We've built websites that attempt to portray our corporate life as fun and friendly and fresh. We've commissioned studies and polls. We've examined other denominations to adopt best practices. We've arrived at church every Sunday hoping this will be the week that a visitor will show up---and stay. And every Sunday we've gone home knowing that things are not good in the mainline protestant church.

How do we get more members? How do we preserve our church? We are doing everything we can think to do--and we are doing some things without thinking! Why don't people respond? We didn't used to have this problem. Whose fault is it that we have no young people between 25 and 45? We came to church when we were that age! Why are things not good in the mainline church?! Why isn't God at work to maintain the mainline protestant church? Doesn't God see how hard we are working? Doesn't God care? We come. We give our 2 percent. We work. .We pray. And it just doesn't seem to matter. Things are still not good in the mainline church.

The people of Israel would sit in these pews with us and shake their heads in agreement. they have been there. They understand exactly how we feel. When the exiles returned from Babylon in the 6th century BCE they thought they had seen the worst. Their temple had been destroyed. Their land had been lost. their political, religious, social power had disappeared. but them, they would tell you, a word of hope came from the prophet Isaiah. A word of comfort came from the prophet Isaiah. A word of restoration came from the prophet Isaiah.

And the people worshiped. They fasted. They prayed. They expected a glorious Zion. They expected to regain the power they had enjoyed as the chosen people of God. And they got the same thing we get...nothing. They could not get God's attention. All their fasting and praying...all their Sabbath keeping...all those promises that told them they would be, like before, the people of God...nope...not working...things were not good in the church of the people of Israel.

The people of Israel were lucky, though. God was talking to them...OK...through a prophet...but God was talking. And you heard it. God pretty much slammed them. Do you really think, God said, that fasting and Sabbath-keeping and prayer will get and keep my attention when you fight with each other, serve your own interests and oppress your workers? God laid it out for them...laying in sackcloth and ashes to show humility doesn't work when you only are humble to serve yourselves...to make yourselves look good in my eyes.

But God wasn't only talking to the people of Israel in the 6th century BCE. Listen carefully, for God is also talking to us--announcing to us our own rebellion.

"Is this what I want?" says God? "Do I want your contemporary services. your remodeled sanctuaries, your Starbucks and donuts on the altar? is this what I want?" says God. Your embarrassment over my ways, your need to put the gods of culture and entertainment before me? Is this what I want?" says God. "Shrubbery that hides your pride and websites that gloss over your selfishness? Is this what I want?" says God. "Your assumption that 'members' will bring you once again into power and position? your pathetic attempts to 'figure me out,' 'condense me into a program,' and 'sell me as a solution?'"

"Here is what I choose," says God. "I choose a people who recognize their sin and who humble and sincerely seek forgiveness even when they know I have already saved them. Here is what I choose," says God. "I choose a people who act to feed hungry people whether they deserve it or not. to bring housing to the homeless even if it rewards irresponsibility. I choose a people who make laws that protect all people from oppression, even when it means their own taxes will go up. I choose a people who will respect the poorest of the poor like they are the richest of the rich, who will set aside their fear and their pride and depend on me for their security and not on their salary or their job or their position in the community.

"Here is what I choose," says God. "I choose a people who do not engage in or condone violence in word or deed, even if someone else is violent first (or always). I choose a people who do not fight to get their own way, pointing their finger at those who disagree and talking trash behind their backs. I choose a people who always put others' best interest before their own best wishes. I choose a people who do not care if they are the biggest or the best or the most powerful. I choose a people who choose to serve me, and when that happens, then their light will shine and people will seek them out because they see not empty ritual, but life abundant and everlasting.

We, like the people of Israel, are in exile...and things are not good in exile. but we, like the people of Israel, have hope. When we serve as God wishes, we, too, can claim the promise that our light will be broken open like the dawn, and our healing will spring up quickly, and our vindication, accomplished in the life and death of Jesus Christ, will go before us, and the glory of YHWH will protect us from the rear. And our ruins will be rebuilt, and we will raise up foundations of many generations, and ride upon the heights of the earth...and things will be good...not because we are good, but because God is good.

Amen and Amen!

Grace...

Question for the day...Is there grace in your life?

Thought for the day....how do you define grace?

I was thinking about this yesterday while I was sitting in class, (still pouting 'cause I couldn't be outside--pouting is such an attractive pose...).  What is grace?  When people talk about not being able to experience the grace of God within the institutional church, I understand...but strongly disagree.  Grace is not a life with no conflict, smooth sailing, wonderful relationships, sound financial standing.  But I think that's how we define grace in our gut.  (We might not define it that way in public speech, because it sounds pretty shallow...but I think we function that way if we are honest.)

Grace is God's work.  Grace is God's unconditional love of all people.  Grace took Christ to the cross because we couldn't live with God's grace in the world.  Grace constantly works for reconciliation.  Grace comes from self-denial (which is possible, but only possible through the work of the Spirit).  But here's my point.  Grace is not smooth sailing, wonderful relationships, money, house, beautiful landscaping, etc.  Grace is light in the darkness.  Grace is forgiveness in the darkness of sin.  Grace is reconciliation in conflict.  Grace is strength from weakness.

Several years ago a fifth grader named Erin was diagnosed with a recurrence of cancer.  Those were dark days for Erin's family and friends.  They were even dark days for friends of Erin's friends, people who didn't know Erin but saw the pain of her diagnosis in the people who knew her.  But let me tell you, grace was powerful in that experience.  Erin opted out of a second round of treatment.  Erin shared her confidence in the love of God in her life with all those who would listen.  Erin loved and smiled and celebrated the days she had left.  Not all days were perfect.  Not all moments were smiling.  We hate to leave those we love; we hate to see them leave.  But in the suffering and the pain and the wrenching good-byes, everyone will speak of the grace they experienced through Erin's life and death.

When life is easy, we get way too caught up with the arrangement of the chairs, the color of the carpet, the success of our hair-do, the price of tea in China.  Part of the reason the church embodies grace is that it is hard to get along all the time.  We are human.  And in the humanness together, we have opportunities to see grace at work. 

I guess the challenge to seeing God's grace is being sure we are looking for it, and not for convenience or agreement or prosperity.  The farther we are willing to go into difficulty, the closer God's grace will be...

Dirt...

Most of the time I have great passion for my job.  But when the weather warms and the sun shines in the spring, I hate my job.  I hate school.  I hate housework.  I hate everything except playing in the dirt and sharing in the miracle of watching things grow.  So now, the house is half vacuumed, the bed is half made, the homework is way less than half done...and I am going to bed to pout because I can't play in the dirt tomorrow either...or Sunday.

Is it right to wish for the apocalypse so society could fall apart and we could go back to living on the land...growing and sharing with each other and hanging out in the lovely vitamin-D-making sun?

Proudly Presbyterian...

I just read yet another report on the decline of mainline protestantism and yet another comment about the decline of denominational loyalty and yet another account of growing churches who drop their denominational byline or make it very hard to find.  Does it really matter?  Aren't really all churches alike?  To me...it matters.

First, let me be clear that all Christian churches are alike...or should be...in our focus and following of Jesus Christ as head of the church.  There will be a time in which God's kingdom will arrive fully on this earth, and we will all see clearly how to let Jesus be head of the Church...and then we will not need denominations.  In the very-messy-human-meantime, here is why I am proudly, persistently, Presbyterian.

We are called to the church.  Being Christian is, by definition, being grafted into the body of Christ...and that is the church.  We are called together to be Christ's body in the world for the specific purpose of sharing God's love with the world.  We cannot do that by ourselves on the golf course.  We might feel the presence of God as we putt that first green, and I'll concede that alone on the golf course is easier (even on a bad putting day) than together in the messiness of community, but alone is not body of Christ and never will be...and together is not for our own personal benefit, it is so the world can see God. 

Since church is not an option, and since we do not yet live in the completed Kingdom, I choose Presbyterian.  Denominations are ways of organizing our lives together...and even non-denominational churches do the same thing (whether they admit it or not)...and the way we organize ourselves speaks to how we perceive who God is and how God works in the world.  These are some of the things I value.

Women and men, and all races are equal in the sight of God and invited to serve in the church.  We have woefully fallen short in extending the gracious acceptance of God's love to our brothers and sisters who are gay and lesbian in committed relationships, but we continue to move in the right direction.  I claim we are moving in the right direction because (at least so far) we do not excommunicate or kick people out of our denomination/church because they disagree with the majority.  We agree to majority rule, but we can disagree with each other and continue to work to come together through the work of the Holy Spirit to seek truth...by staying in conversation with God and each other.

Governing the church is done by the people, laity and clergy with equal voices, who commit to a process of discerning the wisdom of the Spirit in guiding a church.  In theory, this reminds us that Jesus is the head of the church, and together we work to accomplish his agenda, and not our own.

We are a connectional church.  Even the computer doesn't recognize the term as grammatically correct.  Presbyterian churches are accountable to and connected with each other.  Joining together gives us more resources, more strength, and more opportunity to serve God in our larger communities and in the world.

And here is the most important reason why I am Presbyterian Church (USA).  We are part of the Reformed tradition.  We believe that God has come incarnate in Jesus to bring us to God completely and unconditionally with his life, death, and resurrection.  Further, we believe that God continues to turn us toward Godself making us holy as we reflect God's love and grace.  We DO nothing to earn this amazing grace.  We do not have to go to church, or serve others, or follow a set of laws, or even acknowledge that God has provided us this salvation.  It is ours...already...whether we know it or not.

If it were up to me to do something to insure my own salvation, or to decide about others, we would be in trouble on both counts.  I can let God be God, and in gratitude for all God has done for each of his precious children, I can do my best to listen to God's call to me.  And I can do so knowing that even when I fall short in my own opinion or in God's opinion...or even in someone else's opinion...even when I fall short I am loved and forgiven by my God who is working out his saving purposes for the world and who will continue to do so until all the world knows God's love and mercy.

No denomination is perfect or will be until God draws us all together.  But for the now, and for many other reasons that aren't listed here, I choose to be Presbyterian and to commit to working with other Presbyterians, and other denominations, and other religions, to do God's work in the world. I will continue to learn what my denominational foundations are, work to change those that I believe do not reflect God's love, and commit myself to serve others through the specific church body to which God calls me. 

Perhaps someday I will discover a denomination which, in its limited human way, better lives into the understanding of God I read in the life of Christ.  Until then....proudly Presbyterian Church (USA).

Failure and Faith

I am a failure.  Now you argue...but you are wrong.  I created a brochure of Lenten practices and adopted one for my own Lenten discipline.  I lasted three days and despite best intentions, didn't get it done.  I haven't given up yet...Lent is not over...but I'm pretty sure it's a lost cause.

This week, I got new insight about justification and sanctification...big religious words that most people don't use.  Justification I understood as God's work on my behalf.  God comes "en-flesh-ment"...incarnate...to embrace the full sinfulness of humanity, and reconcile that sinful humanity to Godself.  That is miracle in and of itself.  And I think I get that one correctly...all God's work...all our grace...

Then, there is sanctification.  I understood that one as our response to God...our "work," if you will, to be more "like God"...to "respond to God's grace" in ways that make us more "holy."  We never get it exactly right, but we work toward it and God blesses us...That part, I had wrong.

The better understanding (from my new best friend, Barth) is the idea that God turns toward us in justification, and that GOD turns us toward him in sanctification.  We cannot make ourselves holy any more than I can manage to get my Lenten discipline done.  We just can't.  And if we think we can, we become little mini-gods, saving ourselves and judging others who aren't working as hard as we are. 

God turns me toward God, and that is the process of sanctification.  I, today, am so very grateful for this God who worked through Christ for the salvation of all, and who patiently continues every minute of every day to turn us back toward God.  My Lenten failure becomes the very means of sanctification in the only way it is really possible...through God's work. 

Ridiculous...

Life gets ridiculous sometimes...last week was sometimes.  So is this week, but I suppose that's beside the point since I am writing.  While writing stopped, advertising didn't and I noted a particularly ridiculous ad for some home object...clearly not memorable...but something like a vase or a knick-knack...nick-nack...pnick-pnack...whatever.  The ad read "Made thoughtfully.  Beautifully.  To last and to love."  First, they need a grammar lesson and then, perhaps a "get real" lesson.  The ad ran next to earthquake images--homes and lives in a shattered mess.  But, what we needed was a gadget that was made thoughtfully...beautifully...to last and to love.  What we really need is the eyes to see and the hearts to know that each human is made thoughtfully, beautifully--perhaps not to last...but certainly to love and be loved.  My goal for this week is to remember that the "we" of life is always more important than the "stuff." 

Discomfortable...

The folks who attended the 2009 Montreat worship and music conference led worship yesterday and I thank them for that.  It is always wonderful to have new worship experiences, especially when you can tell the experience is really meaningful for people, especially the people leading it.

New worship experiences are also weird.  Different music, different liturgy, different leadership...and "different" plus "human" over "CHURCH" is a formula for discomfort.  And it was "discomfortable."  Even some of the music, which I am pretty good at, was a bit beyond my ability to catch onto quickly.  At first, I accepted my discomfortableness as part of the package of different folks leading worship.  Then, by the middle of the service, acceptance had grown into fatigue.  And then, Spirit  insight...

Who am I to think worship should be comfortable?  Why do I expect to hear the Word of God only in ways that are comfortable, ways that don't challenge me?  What actually happened in my worship discomfortableness is that I paid attention to everywhere we went, read the words to every song, listened to all the liturgy.  It required all my effort to keep up...which is probably why I was tired.

Jesus life and ministry centered on "discomfortableness."  Karl Barth reminds us that we too easily form "notions of God and His Law...which are very acceptable to [us] but most inappropriate because they are harmless and conciliatory and compromising...[Our] sin takes on the appearance of something which is quite comfortable." The same move to acceptableness that limits God and Law to "harmless" also limits worship. It limits our ability to do God's work.  Harmless and comfortable don't do much challenging to the powers and principalities.

The cross on which Christ died was the ultimate embarrassment.  Crucifixions happened, but no one talked about them.  Being crucified was the most humiliating possible death, the most jarring event that could happen to a family, even a community.  Nothing good could come of a cross. The discomfort of Christ's disciples had to be profound...so profound that only one stayed at the foot of the cross.  This just couldn't be right...


If we follow Jesus, we must live in discomfortableness.  Love your enemies.  Feed the hungry.  Eat with sinners and tax collectors.  Take up your cross.  Christ's way won't be comfortable or familiar.  Moltman, another theologian in my school desk, says, "Christians who do not have the feeling that they must flee the crucified Christ have probably not yet understood him in a sufficiently radical way." (The Crucified God) I recently heard people talking of the great comfort the cross in the front of our sanctuary gives them...and perhaps so.  But I am increasingly aware of the significant change that cross calls me to embody...and there are times I wish wholeheartedly that I didn't have to see that symbol front and center of my faith.

God cracked my little shell of "comfortable."  The great irony was I think I said the Lord's Prayer more times yesterday than I have on any given day maybe in my entire life.  And every time I uttered the words "Our Father," I cringed a bit...wondering if God would answer me back (after a sermon where God did, actually, answer back).  
I would like to retreat into the comfortable on many fronts.  But for today, and perhaps tomorrow, I am going to embrace the discomfortableness of the cross and see what God wants to say.

Live Forward, Believe Backward...

The idea is from Soren Kierkegaard who once said that we live forward and believe backward.  In the moment we often cannot identify the presence or work of God in our lives, but as we look backward we see clearly the hand of God at work. 

One of my all time favorite people blessed my life with the story of the birth of her son.  She and her husband had talked before the delivery about doing no extraordinary measures if anything was significantly wrong with the baby...believing at the time that everything was normal...and they had communicated that with their doctor.  The day she went into labor, her husband was traveling and she could not reach him, her primary doctor was out of town, and her son was born critically ill.  No one involved in the delivery knew of the decisions.  The baby was rushed to a different city on life support. 

My friends were frustrated and angry that their plan had been thwarted and now they had a child on life-support who wouldn't live. The pain of making the necessary decisions was agonizing.  Three weeks after their son was born, they said good-bye.

A couple years later, she told me this story. I was holding their newborn daughter. The story ended with the words, "I guess God knew better than we did.  If I hadn't spent three weeks holding and loving John, I would never have been brave enough to try again."

Live forward...believe backward.  We celebrated the work of God after we were out of the situation. 

There are reasons God calls us into Christian community--which may seem like the most boring place ever to practice our faith.  How often have we wished for the "God on the golf-course" idea?!!!  But it is in the practice through the pain, in the endurance of the ennui, in the serving of the society that we can look back and see God at work.

Live forward...believe backward...my inspiration for the day...

Happy Ash Wednesday...

A bit of an oxymoron...wishing people happy Ash Wednesday.  After all, a liturgical holiday where you are reminded "that you are dust and to dust you will return..." doesn't exactly inspire one to joyful dancing in the streets.  Anyway, that part was yesterday on Fat Tuesday.  We humans can always get one last celebration in before we have to return to the dust.  (And I'd put money on the fact that way more people participated in the final celebration than will participate in the penitential season.)

But I digress...a habit picked up again as I am required to study for seminary classes...I can always manage to digress...

Being in a position to teach people about Ash Wednesday also puts you in a position to try and truly understand it yourself.  I know the Wikipedia definition, the one we spout if someone says, "Ash Wednesday service? What's that all about?"  We answer...well Ash Wednesday is the first day of the Lenten season which is a time that we focus on repentance of our sins.  Hmmm...what if I am not really a bad person?  After all, I came to the Ash Wednesday service and that's got to count for something.  I do my best.  And when I fall short, I know that I am , after all, human, and that God loves me, so its not a huge big deal, right?  How does living in God's grace and meditating on your sin go together in some kind of way that makes sense?

(Thank you, Karl Barth, for the insight!--and no, I never thought I'd say those words) Barth suggests that the fundamental human sin is pride and that our deepest wish and strongest motivating factor is the desire to be judge over all (which, of course, only God can do).  Even those who adamantly claim there is no God have simply placed themselves or some other god (science, money, power) in God's position.  Meditating on this idea as Ash Wednesday arrives has given me a new take on "from dust...to dust..."

God created us from the earth we inhabit.  Without this ball of dirt, we would not exist.  Don't know exactly the details of the transaction, but I know that we are part and parcel of the literal dirt that surrounds us.  It feeds us, it shelters us, it threatens us, and it absorbs us back into the cycle when our time is up.

We are not God...cannot be God...no matter how hard we try.

God created earth...God has always been...will always be...doesn't need earth to survive...will never be absorbed into God's creation. 

We are not God...cannot be God...no matter how hard we try.

Even the questions we tend to ask about Lent are an attempt to be God.  Thinking we're not such bad people...excusing our behavior on the basis of our humanity...comparing ourselves to others to decide we are better, equal, or worse than they...deciding what is "right for us" and claiming that if we are content, we will make the world a better place...all that and more is our attempt to be the judge of the world...and as such, replace "God" with "us"...

This year, "remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return" has new meaning for me.  I am at church this evening because God has called me there, not because I am better or worse or hired.  I am absorbing the image of my beginning...created by God from the carbon elements that support life on this planet...and my end as returning to the dust there before I was.

I am not God...cannot be God...no matter how hard I try.

The freedom of living in repentance today and every day is the reminder that I do not have to be the judge.  I have been judged and forgiven.  I don't have to decide how good or bad I am.  I don't have to decide how good or bad others are.  (I still will decide/judge myself and other on a daily basis...human condition...original sin thing...) but the freedom that comes with letting God be God is why I am having a very happy Ash Wednesday.  I am not the judge.  I am the human judged by God, forgiven by God, and freed from my need to be God.  I am dust and to dust I will return.  God is God, eternal, loving, and just.  Happy, Happy, Ash Wednesday!

Reconciliation...a gift from...a gift to...

We celebrated five baptisms this past Sunday, two infants, one 3rd grader and two adults.  Baptism is "a visible sign of invisible grace."  We know God's love belongs to us through grace, nothing we do earns or deserves it.  We in the reformed tradition believe that God's grace is already at work in us before we do anything, including say we want to be baptized/saved/repent...insert your term here.  Baptism reminds us, in powerful, visual, ways that God is indeed at work reconciling us to Godself and to each other.

The act of baptizing an infant, listening to parental and congregational promises to nurture that child in the faith, brings me to tears every time.  Watching two young men kneel before their family (biological and congregational) and receive the sacrament of baptism, listening to the pastor invite them to rise with Christ into the abundant life and then challenge us to look and see what God is doing in our midst...well, let's just say I needed stock in Kleenex. 

Sunday's most powerful act of reconciliation was enormously small.  Our precious third grader, in a sweet little white dress, glowing from the excitement and anticipation, stood on the chancel with one hand nestled in her mother's hand, and the other nestled in her father's.  Not unexpected...until you know that her parents recently divorced.  I know divorce.  My parents went through divorce.  My friends have been through divorce.  My family has been through divorce.  Its always tough, and it can be ugly.  Reconciliation is far from anyone's mind.

One hand nestled in her mother's hand.  One hand nestled in her father's.  Together the parents promised to nurture her blossoming faith.  Together they stood with their child.  Together they held her hands.  Together they smiled and prayed and blessed their daughter more than they will ever know...perhaps more than she will ever know.

I know divorce.  I know God's love.  I know God's reconciling love was present in the act of two parents who sacrificed themselves for their child.  Look and see, indeed, what God is doing in our midst!

Terror and Joy...

Worship is rote. No fault of worship. Human condition pretty much dictates that when we do something on a regular basis, it becomes easy not to think too much about it. That makes the cleaning of toilets bearable, but might not be so helpful in, say, weekly dates with your spouse.

This week in worship, I wished for a camera. Wishes don't come true. But the image imprinted itself in my brain and I keep watching it. Fact: acolytes hate to acolyte. Hate might be too strong a word, but truth is, once the excitement wears off and acolyting becomes rote, they hate to acolyte. (Mostly because they don't get to sit with their friends and they have to wear a dress--girls and boys.)

This week, we had a new acolyte. She volunteered--being just a little young for a spot on the rote list. Acolytes enter from the back, bringing what we affectionately call "the candle lighter thingy" crowned with real fire down the isle to light the candles on the communion table. Sometimes we forget to watch the acolyte do their thing, but this week was different.

Our acolyte wears her feelings all over her face and Sunday was no different. She radiated a mixture of excitement and fear. She couldn't believe she was actually getting to bring in the Light of Christ. She was ecstatically joyful. She hoped she was doing it right. She was completely terrified.

We all should have been ecstatically joyful and completely terrified. We come together into the presence of God on a Sunday morning. We ask the Spirit to make herself known. We invoke the name of the Almighty God. (Annie Dillard says ushers should pass out life preservers instead of bulletins in case God ever really grants our wish for God's presence.)

Rote dulls our senses to the terror we should feel at the chance of encountering our God face to face and being forever changed. Rote dulls our senses to the reality of the joy we can claim as forgiven children of God welcomed to God's worship with open arms by the one who loved us enough to die for us.

Our little acolyte wanted to participate in this great drama more than anything. She worked for a long time to get into the "rote-a-tion." Don't know what her experience was ultimately, but I know she challenged me to step out of the routine and into the terror and joy of opening myself to God.

Out of the Mouths...

Sunday school teacher...
Is communion only for the people in our church? Does God only want people here to
participate? (and the teacher waits for the inevitable...no, God loves everyone answer)
Child...
No...God loves Jews too.
Teachers and class...
giggles...
The lesson continues with the God loves all people discussion.
Child...(leaning over to teacher)
I was right, wasn't I?
Teacher...
Absolutely...of course God loves Jews. Actually, Jesus was a Jew.
Child...(shocked)
Nooooo waaaaayyy!!!

Point:
For those of us who are still under the impression that Jesus was a highly successful, blue-eyed, Christian man...
Nooooo waaaaayyy......

Implications:
Huge....

The prelude to Lent crashes this week into reading from Karl Barth. Lent usually presents as a time for penitence in light of God's judgment, for deprivation from our favorite things, for introspection on our great sinfulness. Not really pleasant or fun, not that faith is supposed to be pleasant or fun all the time...but still, the Lenten practices don't exactly scream to be put on the calendar...they kinda whisper to be ignored.

Today, a new perspective for me on Lent. Barth says:
Jesus humbles Himself to our status in order to be our companion in that status, (sinful humans) in order to share with us the assault and temptation, in order to be with us in the misery of that status with all the omnipotence of His divine mercy, in order to change that status from within, in order to turn it for good, for the very best, in order to take away the curse which rests upon us, in order to obviate the impending destruction. He comes, therefore, as a helper, as a redeemer, as the one who brings another and proper order, a life which is life indeed. He comes as the kingdom of God in person. He comes to reconcile the world with God, i.e., to convert it to God...
Basically and decisively--and this is something we must never forget when we speak of the divine Judge--He is the one whose concern is for order and peace, who must uphold the right and prevent the wrong, so that His existence and coming and work is not in itself and as such a matter for fear, but something which indicates a favour, the existence of One who brings salvation. (4.1 pp. 216-217)

If we add Barth's perspective of God coming as Jesus to create order and peace and Jesus' command to be a disciple and do as he commanded...that equals a Lenten season in which we contemplate how we might be more like Jesus, and in so doing perhaps help bring God's order and peace to the world. It is a Lenten season that we give up not our favorite things, but deliberately commit a little--or a lot--of time and energy to work for God in the world.

Lent is no longer the season of fearing God's judgment, but the promise of life out of death, light in the darkness, joy out of despair. A bit like the flower blooming in the snowstorm...

Buddy

The Utleys have two big dogs and one that could be easily mistaken for a large rat. Buddy is about 8 inches high. Six inches of snow fell this weekend. Big dogs ran and slid and played and barked. Buddy tried to keep his nose above the waterline.

It's hard to lift your leg when the snow bank is as high as you are tall. Buddy did his best. Later in the day, when we thought everyone had done all the "business" they should have done, Buddy went outside with his mother, Hannah, and her mother, and her mother. Three generations of women shoveled snow and cleaned off my car because I thought I had to get to work the next morning. Buddy checked out the mailbox, marked his territory, then slid into the street. I watched a couple of his tries to hop back into the yard, then forgot to watch as I tackled the next huge pile of sleet covered snow.

I kinda watched as Hannah walked down the driveway with Buddy in her arms. I carefully watched as she returned with no dog, but the sidewalk ice scraper and a shovel and a towel. She walked to the neighbor's house into their garage. That was interesting, because they have their own shovel, and I didn't see any neighbors in the garage. The 8 year old was brushing snow off their car. She came back, tools in hand.

"What are you doing?"...I know, the level of probing, intelligent, inquiry takes your breath away. "What are you doing?

"Buddy pooped in their garage."

Now there's a thought for you. When life gets deep or difficult, just find the most convenient, warm place and deposit your poop there. Someone will clean up your mess.