Questions in the Night

Nothing good happens in the middle of the night.  The phone rings at 3:45am, and ninety nine times out of a hundred it is bad news.  Something has gone wrong.  Someone is in trouble.  Somebody is desperate.  Or lost.  Or alone.  Or afraid.  Count on it.  

On the other hand, sometimes babies are born in the middle of the night and the news is too good to keep until the sun rises hours later.  Breakthroughs are made by those burning the midnight oil.  Love is found, hearts are mended, peace is waged, and  journeys begun in the small hours of the night.  

Are you a morning person?  Leaping out of bed at the first slivers of light on the horizon, ready to embrace the possibilities that lie before you?  Certain as the noonday sun, unfolding like a flower under the life-giving rays of light, grabbing the gusto of each bright moment, living where there are few shadows and fewer doubts?  Are you a person of tasks to accomplish and lists to complete, going and doing and connecting and relating?  Is this you?  God bless you and have at it.   Or... 

Are you a night person?  Ready to ponder the meaning of existence under the influence of the stars, writing deep thoughts while the moon waxes and wanes?  Does the darkness inspire the poet in you, or the wee hours raise questions you have to pursue despite the wagging finger of the clock hand ticking away precious seconds when you should be sleeping?  Join the club.  There are thoughts to think in the middle of the night.

Of course it is nonsense to believe it has to be an either/or.  No one is summed up so simply, no one is defined so completely in one or the other.  No one fits in simple categories, do they?  Of course not.  Well, then, neither does Nicodemus.

Who?  You know.  That guy in the Gospel of John, who just shows up and doesn’t have the decency to wear an identification badge.  So, we don’t know whether he is a good guy or a bad guy, or worse, a guy who can’t decide.  Those twilight people (not “Twilight” - not talking Team Edward here), neither one thing or the other.  Wishy-washy: that was the worst thing Lucy could think of to call Charlie Brown.  Pick a side Nicodemus, will ya?  Or did he?

John 3:1-17  Now there was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews.  2 He came to Jesus by night and said to him, "Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God."  3 Jesus answered him, "Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above."  4 Nicodemus said to him, "How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother's womb and be born?"  5 Jesus answered, "Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit.  6 What is born of the flesh is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit.  7 Do not be astonished that I said to you, 'You must be born from above.'  8 The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit."  9 Nicodemus said to him, "How can these things be?"  10 Jesus answered him, "Are you a teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these things?  11 "Very truly, I tell you, we speak of what we know and testify to what we have seen; yet you do not receive our testimony.  12 If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things?  13 No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man.  14 And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up,  15 that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.  16 "For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.  17 "Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. 

It was the coming at night thing that got him into trouble.  Was he ashamed to be seen talking to Jesus?  Was he afraid of what his companions would say?  He was a leader of the Jews, John says.  Probably in the Sanhedrin, the governing body of Israel, not priests or rabbis necessarily, but also not divorced from religious issues.  The whole church/state divide was not a issue for them.  They were God’s people so to govern was to care for souls as well as bodies, to run the state was to be concerned about the purity of the faith and about obedience to God.

So maybe it was a junket, a fact finding mission that politicians are always taking.  Maybe he was sent by the Committee with Oversight on Delusional Messiahs to check into this Jesus thing.  Or maybe that was just the time of day he functioned best.  So, after clocking out and telling his secretary that he was done for the day and picking up his briefcase and checking his email he headed out.  Glancing at the clock tower over the statehouse he realized that it was too late for supper at home, his wife had already gone to bed.  So, he headed to his favorite diner that was open late for something that would upset his already churning stomach.  His favorite waitress was still on duty and brought him his usual without even having to ask.  When she came back to fill his water glass and plunk down the pink antacids he lived on, she said “That Jesus guy is in town.”  

He sighed when he heard that, and debated pretending he didn’t.  It sounded like work, going to check him out.  He thought about ignoring the tip and making his lonely way home.  But sitting on a subway at this time of night didn’t appeal to him either, so before he talked himself out of it he said “Where?”  She told him what she heard and how some of the other girls were going to see what he was all about in the morning.  And that she was thinking maybe she would go too.  Just to see, she shrugged, knowing that her best customer wouldn’t like it very much.  He gave his usual generous tip anyway and shambled out into the night.  He headed toward his subway stop, but then just keeps walking.  Heading toward the edge of town, he finds himself hoping.  What he can’t decide is if he hopes he is there or he isn’t.  

He works on his approach as he walks.  Butter him up, he thinks, start with a joke maybe.  “I’m Nicodemus, I’m from the government and I’m here to help!”  That’s always good for a laugh, to break the ice.  But no, he decides, flattery, that gets them off their guard and I can perhaps find out what his story is.  Flattery with a touch of “we’re watching you,” that’ll get him.  “We know you are a teacher who has come from God...”  Yeah, that’ll get him.

Well, it didn’t.  Jesus took control of the conversation from the start, answering questions he didn’t think to ask, tripping him up with metaphor and image, and then boldly claiming who he was, reminding us all that we are in the Gospel of John, no Messianic Secret here, that’s for sure.  Even a cursory read of the Gospel makes it feel like Jesus is trying to pick a fight.  And Nicodemus is on the ropes throughout this whole conversation.  “Can one enter into the mother’s womb and be born a second time?”  “How can these things be?”  His head is spinning, he is lost in the rhetoric, in the commands, in his inability to grasp deeper truths.  Even Jesus wonders at his ignorance.  “Are you a teacher and you don’t get it?”   How should he respond to that?  

He doesn’t get a chance.  Jesus bull rushes on, trampling over whatever thoughts he might have had and plunks down what is probably the most remembered verse in the whole New Testament.  And Nicodemus’ world was turned upside down, or right side up.  And he was never the same again.  He appears two more times in the Gospel and both times it is to stand up for Jesus, it is to take his side, regardless of the tide of opinion.

It is All Saints Sunday this weekend.  Which is a time for remembering that all of us, any of us have mixed motives at best.  We aren’t called saints, those we remember aren’t called saints because they did everything right and always had the right reasons and the right intentions.  If that is how we remember those who have gone before, then our memories are fuzzy at best.  No, what makes us and them saints is that they were loved, by us, yes, but more importantly, by the one who came that we might have life, by the one who invites us into eternity.  What makes them and us saints is that we came with questions, maybe the wrong questions, but we came and we heard and maybe, by the grace of God we learned.  And we tried to love like he loved.  Night and day.

Shalom, 

Derek

First to the Lord

My son is magic.  Well, not really magic, to be honest.  But there is an odd little quirk that seems to happen around his birthday.  He gets to be home for his birthday.  His birthday is October 25th and so you would think that he would have to be in school, unless it fell on a weekend.  But sometimes it is fall break on his birthday, one year it snowed and school was closed, another year there was a fog delay that became a cancellation.  It is weird.  I’m sure that there were some years when he had to go to school on the actual date, but I don’t remember any at the moment.  And there have been a lot of them.  Twenty to be exact.

It startled me just writing that.  Twenty years!  I still remember meeting him at Chicago O’Hare Airport, looking like he just woke up - a look with which we are still familiar - but wide-eyed in wonder at the world which must have been incomprehensibly different from the one he left behind.  

In the wash of emotions that gripped me in that moment – from joy to fear, wonder and anxiety, hope and helplessness – the one that overpowered them all was gratitude.  I was just so thankful for this life, even though I knew I didn’t have a clue how to care for him.  I was giddy with gratefulness, I thanked everyone I passed.  The couple who brought him over on that long flight from South Korea, they too looked like they had been up all night, thank you.  The members of the crew, of any crew, I didn’t know who flew his plane and who didn’t, so I thanked them all.  Workers in the airport, travelers looking for their connections, drivers of taxis and busses, pedestrians and parking attendants, I thanked them all.  Above all, I thanked God, the author of this happy ending that is still in process, who deemed us worthy of claiming this gift, one of God’s precious ones given up by a mother who couldn’t keep him and put on a list that made its way around the world so that we could be blessed by his presence in our lives.  I am forever grateful to that mother, who we don’t know and never will know, but who also didn’t know how she blessed us and how we took her gift and made it a part of us.

Because in that moment I knew I was in debt, deeper than I could ever repay, even though repaying was something that I had dedicated my life to in those busy corridors of one of the world’s busiest airports.  You don’t need a sanctuary colored by the streams of soft light through stained glass to recognize your indebtedness, airports work quite well for me.  And I know it sounds odd, but every time I have flown in the past twenty years I walk through those terminals as though in a sanctuary, a holy place of connections and destinations, of tearful farewells and joyous homecomings.  

And I’m grateful.  In the deepest corners of my being, I am grateful.  I know I forget sometimes, or fail to recall.  And yet it is there, when I gaze across the table or read the text message that comes or the phone call because he is bored at college, and usually at the most inconvenient of times.  But underneath the irritation or the distraction or the repetition of the same banal questions, there swells up in me a thankfulness that longs to burst forth in acts of generosity and sacrifice.  I want to give him, give them joy, to give them love, to give them me no matter the cost.  I want to give God glory for what I have been blessed to receive, I want to shout from the rooftops until the whole world knows that life is a gift and that we are privileged to not only receive but to give, not only to be blessed but to bless others.  

Underneath all the rhetoric of our passage for this week, Paul is wanting the same thing.  Wanting his readers to give with that kind of passion, that kind of understanding.  

2 Corinthians 8:1-15   We want you to know, brothers and sisters, about the grace of God that has been granted to the churches of Macedonia;  2 for during a severe ordeal of affliction, their abundant joy and their extreme poverty have overflowed in a wealth of generosity on their part.  3 For, as I can testify, they voluntarily gave according to their means, and even beyond their means,  4 begging us earnestly for the privilege of sharing in this ministry to the saints--  5 and this, not merely as we expected; they gave themselves first to the Lord and, by the will of God, to us,  6 so that we might urge Titus that, as he had already made a beginning, so he should also complete this generous undertaking among you.  

7 Now as you excel in everything-- in faith, in speech, in knowledge, in utmost eagerness, and in our love for you-- so we want you to excel also in this generous undertaking.  8 I do not say this as a command, but I am testing the genuineness of your love against the earnestness of others.  9 For you know the generous act of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich.  10 And in this matter I am giving my advice: it is appropriate for you who began last year not only to do something but even to desire to do something--  11 now finish doing it, so that your eagerness may be matched by completing it according to your means.  12 For if the eagerness is there, the gift is acceptable according to what one has-- not according to what one does not have.  13 I do not mean that there should be relief for others and pressure on you, but it is a question of a fair balance between  14 your present abundance and their need, so that their abundance may be for your need, in order that there may be a fair balance.  15 As it is written, "The one who had much did not have too much, and the one who had little did not have too little." 

“For if the eagerness is there ...”  What a phrase to use to talk about stewardship.  Instead of duty, instead of responsibility, Paul uses eagerness.  Eagerness to give.  He primes the pump by talking about Macedonia, and how they begged him to let them be a part of the collection.  But he doesn’t present it as a competition.  Rather it is an opportunity for them to let some of the joy that has been poured into them leak out and bless others.  

In Philippians, Paul writes what has come to be called the Christ hymn.  (Phil 2:6-11) Here he condenses that great poetic theology into one verse: “ For you know the generous act of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich.”  But in that verse carries the church’s theology of grace and response.  And after that he gives some advice.  Advice?  Paul, giving advice?  Yes, what an amazing thing.  He makes a suggestion, doesn’t lay a command on us.  And what is that advice?  Let it out.  Let out the joy that is within you, let out the gratitude that is in you.  Let it out in generosity.  Let it out in giving.

This offering that he is collecting here is for the saints in Jerusalem.  The mother church has fallen on difficult times and now it is the privilege of the new, upstart churches in the Gentile world to give back.  There is more than just a church mission operation here.  Paul is helping the church be one.  There is not, for Paul anyway, a Jewish Christian church and a Gentile Christian church and each can take care of itself.  No, there is one church and like the beginnings of the church in the book of Acts, his vision is that there are none who have need among them because they each give what they can.  

In addition to telling them to be prudent about their giving, but to trust in the providence of God (that was why he tossed in the verses about manna - about trusting that there will be enough, whether a little or a lot), Paul also tells them to finish what they started, or to follow through on their intentions, depending on how you read verses ten and eleven.  But even there, it isn’t as an obligation, but an outlet for the joy of responding to the blessings of God that drives the giving.  “So that your eagerness may be matched by completion.”  Just do it, but do it with joy, do it with gratitude, do it as a way of making real the gratitude that lives within you.

Sunday after worship we will take Rhys back to university.  It is a long drive and he’ll probably fall asleep.  I’m sure it will be somewhat low key as these things tend to be.  But for me it is always a reminder of how some gifts that  we are given are not ours to keep, but to give away.  The grace remains, however, the grace of receiving and the grace of giving.  And maybe that is the magic, such as it is.  That we are made complete even in the giving away.  Happy Birthday Rhys. I am blessed to be your dad.

Shalom, 

Derek

Bring My Sons

The nest is full again.  We were just getting used to the emptiness, to be honest –  La Donna, the menagerie and I.  But now it is fall break and after many miles over the past couple of days, we have them safely gathered in.  And it is good.  Nice.  A little odd, frankly.  Seemingly crowded.  But just right.  You know?  

How could you?  I don’t even understand what I just wrote.  Or this interesting experience going on around here this weekend.  They are the same as the ones we delivered to their respective institutions of learning, and yet they aren’t.  It is exciting to watch, to see them grow and change and develop into something faintly recognizable.  Exciting and troubling, wonderful and unsettling, making me long for the future and for the past all at the same time.

Yeah, weird, I know.  But there it is.  Or there I am.  Treading water, which seems to be my usual state these days.  Not always sure which way to turn, afraid that whichever way chosen only leads to deeper water.  Hmm.  

Hang on a moment.  That isn’t really the tone I intended for this piece.  I’m excited about the kids return from college.  It was fun to sit around the table and listen to them relate the experiences of their lives and to know that we had prepared them well, or as well as we could.  And now we get to enjoy them as the adults they are becoming.  What could be more satisfying than that?  Can’t think of a thing.  I am proud.  More than proud, I am blessed.  

So, why is there an ache in some random corner of my soul that wishes we could go back?  Why is there a longing to be who we were rather than who we are going to be?  I wouldn’t begrudge them their adventures and their explorations, I anticipate good things for both.  Watching their eyes light up as they talk about favorite subjects, and connections made, opportunities seized is exciting and heartwarming and just as it should be.  It is almost as though I can hear the Spirit drawing them off onto their own paths to who knows where, as thrilling and terrifying as that is.  

Isaiah 43:1-7  But now thus says the LORD, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.  2 When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.  3 For I am the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior. I give Egypt as your ransom, Ethiopia and Seba in exchange for you.  4 Because you are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you, I give people in return for you, nations in exchange for your life.  5 Do not fear, for I am with you; I will bring your offspring from the east, and from the west I will gather you;  6 I will say to the north, "Give them up," and to the south, "Do not withhold; bring my sons from far away and my daughters from the end of the earth--  7 everyone who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made." 

Isaiah speaks a word to people who are longing.  And underwater.  Or walking through the rapids of loss and exile, of war and death.  And the word he speaks is one of hope.  It is a word of redemption.  It is a word of comfort.  Just what they need.  But maybe not what they want.

What they want is a rescue.  Take us out of here!  Fix it, fix them, fix us.  Make it right.  That’s what we want in desperate situations.  But what we get instead is Presence.  I will be with you, thus says the Lord.  OK, a good thing.  No, a wonderful thing, but ... why don’t we get what we really want?  Why don’t we get a wave of the divine hand and circumstances change?  Why don’t enemies get sent packing, and good guys get sent home?  Why doesn’t God  just get up and do something about everything that is wrong is our world right now?

Why doesn’t it say in the forty third chapter of Isaiah that when you sign up for God’s team there won’t be any waters?  Why doesn’t is tell us that following God means you won’t have to walk through fire?  But it doesn’t say that, does it?  No, it says, when you walk through fire!  It says when you pass through the waters!  When?!  It is like it is inevitable.  Like a safe bet.  Like you’d better just count on it.  Well, thanks.  Thanks a lot.  If God followers aren’t any safer from disaster or catastrophe, then what’s the point?  If we don’t have some divine protection from harm, why bother?

That “what’s in it for me?” question really gets under my skin.  It sounds like a consumer approach to faith.  I’m only interested in what I can get out of it.  But once in a while, it is a question that needs asking.  What do we get, Isaiah?  When the chips are down, when all seems lost, when the questions outnumber the answers, what do we get?

Presence.  John Wesley’s last words, it is reported, were “best of all God is with us.”  Best of all, he said.  Presence is the greatest gift.  Presence is grace at work within us.  Presence is what enables us to endure whatever the waters bring, whatever the fire burns around us.  We are not alone.  And not only that, but this Presence is a loving Presence.  We are precious to that Presence.  We are known by name.  And the promise is that wherever we go, wherever this life drives us, for good or for ill, we will be called home to the one who loves us.

It is only in this light that we can make sense of the second passage for this week.  Yes, there are two this time, a rare thing.  But I wanted to dwell on this first one before turning to Peter and his very first sermon in the book of Acts.  It happened on Pentecost day, and we have read it many times.  But since we are usually distracted by the sound of the mighty wind and tongues as of flame, we forget that Peter stood up to speak that day.  Here is what he said:

Acts 2:14-21   But Peter, standing with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them, "Men of Judea and all who live in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and listen to what I say.  15 Indeed, these are not drunk, as you suppose, for it is only nine o'clock in the morning.  16 No, this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel:  17 'In the last days it will be, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams.  18 Even upon my slaves, both men and women, in those days I will pour out my Spirit; and they shall prophesy.  19 And I will show portents in the heaven above and signs on the earth below, blood, and fire, and smoky mist.  20 The sun shall be turned to darkness and the moon to blood, before the coming of the Lord's great and glorious day.  21 Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.' 

Here again we can get lost in the blood and fire and smoky mist if we aren’t careful.  We can get caught up in the interpretation, in looking for the signs, in proclaiming the end times.  But Peter says this isn’t a future event that we need to look for, it is happening right now, right then.  What was interpreted as drunken revelry was in fact fulfillment of prophecy.  This is the Spirit reminding us that we are not alone.  We who have walked through the valley of the shadow of death, we who were certain that all our hopes and all our plans were nailed to a cross and cast to the winds of tyranny, we are not alone.

That is what salvation is, says Peter, Presence.  The Spirit is present as they walk through that valley.  The Christ is present as they take up his mantle of proclaiming good news to the poor and release to the captives.  The Father is present as they hear their names called and rise up to follow – and teach and preach and live the gospel with their last breath.  Not because they are promised safety, but because of the Presence.  

Best of all... I’m glad they are home.  Despite the disruption to our new schedules, despite the fact that they insist on continuing to become different people than the ones we sent away, despite that I am lost at times when I try to comprehend where they are going and who they will be ... still I’m glad they are here for a time.  Best of all ... God is with us.

Shalom,

Derek

And There Was Morning

I’m all out of sorts this morning.  OK, it isn’t morning anymore.  It was when I started this process.  Not much of morning to be sure, but a little bit of morning was left.  But that has now been frittered away.  Frittered?  Does anyone use that word anymore?  Frittered, means to break or tear into small pieces, to waste away piece by piece.

Well, the morning began with the crazy dogs.  La Donna is gone at a Conference UMW meeting of some sort, left last night.  I had to pill the cat before going to bed.  Fun.  Especially since both cats are grumping around, wrecking all kinds of havoc, ever since Maddie left.  They seem to think we have done away with her in some nefarious manner and now they are making us pay.  We have to cover the bed with a shower curtain.  Yeah, that kind of havoc.

Anyway, I had to get up early (after 13 innings of the first game of the National League Championship Series - go Dodgers) to walk the dogs.  Which I apparently have forgotten how to do.  They kept stopping to look at me as if they were saying, “Now what are you doing?”  Then I either went too slow or too fast.  Didn’t perform the right rituals when we got back to the house.  Didn’t say the right words when I saw them in the morning.  Fed them the wrong food, or put it in the bowl wrong.  Or something.  When crazy dogs give you a look of disdain, it can be hard to take early in the morning.

Then I had to go get my tire fixed.  Somewhere I picked up a nail in my tire that caused a slow leak, not a blow out, thankfully, but a slow leak.  Added air a couple of times (paying for it, nothing is free anymore - I bought air), and it would be ok for a while, but then went out and saw it was completely flat.  So, a tire plug and rotation and oil change (since I was there anyway), then I was back ready to start.

My Saturday of preparation was blown out of the water before I even got started.  Plus I was gone for over a week and got back and walked into the buzz saw of the necessary day to day stuff, effectively snuffing out the excitement that had been building over the plans for 2014.  

Chaos.  That what is feels like.  Like there isn’t any order, any sense of rightness about my life today.  I know, get over it, right?  There are folks tons worse off than you.  There are places in the world today that are light years more chaotic than yours.  We’ve got a world holding its collective breath over whether the United States will default on an almost incomprehensible debt, which would trigger an economic collapse that would dwarf 2008, some say.  We’ve got a super storm threatening the Indian peninsula.  We’ve got the remains of a twelve year old war in the mountains of Afghanistan.  Add to that our usual crushing poverty and human exploitation on a global scale, and you’ve got chaos that staggers the already staggered imagination.  

Genesis 1:1-5   In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth,  2 the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters.  3 Then God said, "Let there be light"; and there was light.  4 And God saw that the light was good; and God separated the light from the darkness.  5 God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.  

What’s this?  Order, out of chaos.  Light in the midst of darkness.  And the light was good.  And there was morning.  When you didn’t think there could be another one, there is morning.  Thanks be to God.

Genesis 1:6-8   And God said, "Let there be a dome in the midst of the waters, and let it separate the waters from the waters."  7 So God made the dome and separated the waters that were under the dome from the waters that were above the dome. And it was so.  8 God called the dome Sky. And there was evening and there was morning, the second day. 

The waters represent chaos, the unknown and unknowing.  In the ancient world, sending sailors to sea was a traumatic experience.  The ritual for sending was like a funeral, the return like a resurrection.  Who knows what is going to happen out there, who knows whether those who are sent will ever be seen again.  Now we have tamed the sea.  At least we think we have.  Until the storm surge reminds us what power is, until the threat of rising waters troubles our easy confidence.  What will our coastlines look like in fifty years?  In a hundred?  

By separating the waters, God was staking a claim as Lord of chaos and order.  Saying “when you pass through the waters, I will be with you.”  Our God is in control.

Genesis 1:9-13  And God said, "Let the waters under the sky be gathered together into one place, and let the dry land appear." And it was so.  10 God called the dry land Earth, and the waters that were gathered together he called Seas. And God saw that it was good.  11 Then God said, "Let the earth put forth vegetation: plants yielding seed, and fruit trees of every kind on earth that bear fruit with the seed in it." And it was so.  12 The earth brought forth vegetation: plants yielding seed of every kind, and trees of every kind bearing fruit with the seed in it. And God saw that it was good.  13 And there was evening and there was morning, the third day. 

Let the earth put forth.  God enlists the aid of creation in the act of creating.  God invites partnership.  Work with me here, God is saying, get on board.  Though perfectly capable of creating solo, out of nothing, God instead chooses to invite participation.  Let the earth bring forth... it was good.  And there was morning.  It goes on.

Genesis 1:14-19   And God said, "Let there be lights in the dome of the sky to separate the day from the night; and let them be for signs and for seasons and for days and years,  15 and let them be lights in the dome of the sky to give light upon the earth." And it was so.  16 God made the two great lights-- the greater light to rule the day and the lesser light to rule the night-- and the stars.  17 God set them in the dome of the sky to give light upon the earth,  18 to rule over the day and over the night, and to separate the light from the darkness. And God saw that it was good.  19 And there was evening and there was morning, the fourth day. 

The Genesis story stands in opposition to other creation stories.  Many have pointed to the similarities, and believe that this diminishes the story somehow.  But Genesis makes its claim regardless.  God is the only deity, notice that the sun and moon are not named in this story.  In other tales, these are gods themselves, but not in Genesis.  God is the only power, the lights “rule” only because God put them there.  And it was good.

Genesis 1:20-31  And God said, "Let the waters bring forth swarms of living creatures, and let birds fly above the earth across the dome of the sky."  21 So God created the great sea monsters and every living creature that moves, of every kind, with which the waters swarm, and every winged bird of every kind. And God saw that it was good.  22 God blessed them, saying, "Be fruitful and multiply and fill the waters in the seas, and let birds multiply on the earth."  23 And there was evening and there was morning, the fifth day.  24 And God said, "Let the earth bring forth living creatures of every kind: cattle and creeping things and wild animals of the earth of every kind." And it was so.  25 God made the wild animals of the earth of every kind, and the cattle of every kind, and everything that creeps upon the ground of every kind. And God saw that it was good.  26 Then God said, "Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the wild animals of the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth."  27 So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.  28 God blessed them, and God said to them, "Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves upon the earth."  29 God said, "See, I have given you every plant yielding seed that is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree with seed in its fruit; you shall have them for food.  30 And to every beast of the earth, and to every bird of the air, and to everything that creeps on the earth, everything that has the breath of life, I have given every green plant for food." And it was so.  31 God saw everything that he had made, and indeed, it was very good. And there was evening and there was morning, the sixth day. 

The story goes on, of course.  For sixty-six books and for thousands of years.  It goes on until today, where we find ourselves in the midst of chaos attempting to throw off order.  It goes on until the day where we find ourselves forgetting that there is a purpose to our existence.  It goes on, the story, the mornings go on.

That’s the blessing here.  It was evening and it was morning, a new day.  Another day.  When you were sure that your failures meant the sun would never shine again, it crawls over the horizon even so.  God set it all in motion, and invited us to be a part.  Whatever dominion meant, it now must mean caring for, it must mean stewarding.  We participate in God’s act of creation by making sure that it lasts as long as it can.  Whatever subduing meant, it now must mean partnering with the earth to bring forth enough to feed the teeming billions.  

And why?  Why are we called to participate in this act?  Why are privileged or burdened with an extra responsibility or promise?  Because we are made in the image of God.  And we are given the story, so we know.  We know that everything there is did not come about because of us.  We know that our main mode of existence is one of gratitude.  We know that all we are and all we have belongs to the one who said “let there be light.”  

Did I mention that our Stewardship Campaign begins this week?  It is called “Investing in a Sure Thing.”  And we start, not with us and what we can do, or should do, or will do.  We start with what has been done for us.  We start with the One who invested everything that we might have life.  And then called it good.  

And gave us another morning.  Thanks be to God.

Shalom,

Derek

There Will Come a Time

The vast hall reverberated with silence.  The stunned students sat looking vacantly toward the man who stood before them, seemingly unwilling to speak.  Perhaps he could explain the events of the past few hours.  Perhaps he could give meaning where there seemed only madness.  The silence dragged on, and none dared to breathe, or look at the one bruised and beaten boy who sat among them but was obviously not with them.  He was somewhere else.  Reliving some dark moment, some unspeakable truth, carrying a weight none of them could imagine.

As if suddenly coming to himself, the headmaster began to speak, but not the hoped for words of comfort and assurance.  Instead he confirms for their already shaken souls just how ugly the world has gotten, just how their simple dreams of safety and security were shattered.  “Dark times,” he breathes as though hesitant to even speak the words he knows he must.  “Dark times lie ahead of us,” he pauses as if to gather up the gaze of each fearful face gathered before him, “and there will be a time when we must choose between what is easy and what is right.”

Of course, that was fiction.  The final chapter of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire; Albus Dumbledore speaking to the gathered Hogwarts students after Harry’s encounter with the returned Voldemort, the evil of dark wizards.  Just typing it here makes me feel a little silly.  Wizards and magic, not something we have to deal with in the real world.  Kid’s stuff, fantasy, dismissible.  Let’s get to something of significance, something that makes a difference in how we live our lives each and every day.  We’re not surrounded by trolls and dark wizards or elves and orcs, but duties and responsibilities, joys and heartaches.  So, how shall we live?

Luke 9:23-25   Then he said to them all, "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.  24 For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will save it.  25 What does it profit them if they gain the whole world, but lose or forfeit themselves? 

Which book of the bible uses the word “choose” the most?  Surprisingly, it is Deuteronomy, that book we skip over in our read through because we think it is full of the rules of regulations of an ancient and nomadic culture.  And, to be frank, I haven’t spent a lot of time in Deuteronomy either.  Sure there is the heart of the law there, the second  listing of the ten words given to Moses on Mount Sinai, and the core statement of the faith called the “Shema” in Hebrew after the first word “Hear.”  “Hear o Israel, The Lord our God, the Lord is One.  You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might.”  To that Jesus added the commandment to love our neighbors as ourselves to give us the Great Commandment.  That has its roots in Deuteronomy.

But aside from that?  Well ... Apparently there is a lot of choosing.  It is as though inherent in the design of being the people of God there is choice.  Well, duh.  Scriptures are full of choosing, and the memorable ones are more dramatic than what we find in the book of Deuteronomy.  There is Joshua – “Choose this day whom you will serve ... But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord!”  Ah, there is the terrible enemy Goliath (the “He who must not be named of the nation of Israel) – “Choose a man for yourselves, and let him come down to me.”  Makes you shiver just to imagine him bellowing those words across the valley of Elah.  There is the taunt of Elijah to the priests of Baal – Choose for yourselves one bull and prepare it first for you are many, then call on your god.”   There is Isaiah singing the song of Emmanuel, saying “he will know how to refuse the evil and choose the good” while still a toddler, just beginning to eat solid food, our great hope.  

Then there is the man who reminds Jesus that he has a choice to make too.  “Lord, if you choose you can make me clean.”  And the response “I do choose.  Be clean!”  He chooses the twelve.  And then reminds them that he chose them they didn’t choose him, just as he is about to leave them and send them out to choose how to live their lives without him at their side as he had been for these all too few years.  Then the church chose a replacement for the one who chose wrong.  The grand sweep of choice reverberates through the whole bible.  Wrong choices and right one, and many left un-chosen as examples for us.

The church has grabbed hold of choosing, and laid it out like a diploma we can grab, like a mountain that we climb and then have conquered.  Have you chosen, we ask, in lots of different ways.  “Are you saved?”  “Are you born again?”  “Have you said yes to Jesus?”  We present it like it is a one time thing.

Luke’s version of Jesus saying presents a different though.  These verse appear in all four gospels, that makes it somewhat unique.  Adds a little extra weight to the words by the repetition.  But Luke’s remembrance is a little bit different than all the others.  He is the only one who adds the word “daily” to the call to discipleship.  “Take up their cross daily” Jesus says.  Them, us, the followers who would be.  The ones trying to make our way in this world.  The ones who face a mind-numbing array of decisions on a regular basis.  Daily, one could say.

And most of those decisions don’t seem to matter much in the greater scheme of things.  No big deal, really.  What difference does it make, we ask ourselves, here and there if we choose this and not that, if we go one way or the other.  How will these little choices lead me astray or get me off track or make a hill of beans kind of difference in the world around me or within me?

Hard to say, really.  Maybe it won’t, maybe they don’t make a difference.  Except that Jesus seems to be describing a life here, not just a choice.  Not just a one time are you in or are you out kind of checkpoint we wander through.  But something more like orienteering.  Something like finding our way through the wilderness of living.  In which case every choice, not just big ones, but every choice serves to move us closer to where we want to be.  Or away from that goal.

A step here or there, doesn’t seem like it would matter all that much.  Until Jesus begins to talk about end results.  “What would it profit to gain the whole world and lose your soul?”  Hey, Jesus, how about just a little off track?  How about mixed up, or distracted, or confused, or angry, or hurt?  Why not focus on something smaller?  Something less ... eternal.  Lose your soul.  

That’s what’s at stake, Jesus says.  In all these choices, even the ones we don’t stop to think about.  The ones that don’t seem to matter all that much.  The ones that don’t seem to hurt anyone.  And maybe they don’t matter all that much.  But what if we saw them as training for the big ones?  What if we saw daily living not as something to get through, but as a part of the bigger picture, the vision of the kingdom?  And that our joy is to be able to contribute to the kingdom by the choices we make?

And what if we decided that we were going to choose not what we wanted, but what was good for others and for all?  What if we chose to set our desires and inclinations aside long enough to hear what the crying needs for the community around us really were.  What if we chose to do not what is expedient, but what is healthy for us and all of creation even if it meant giving up what we’ve come to take for granted?  What if we chose to find ourselves by not putting ourselves first, but by not thinking about ourselves at all?  

What if we chose not what is easy, but what is right?

Maybe Dumbledore was on to something after all.

Shalom,

Derek

Interrupting Jesus

It is noisy here today.  So much for the empty nest.  I've got people asking how we are doing with all the kids gone and while sometimes it does seem more empty, it isn't silent.  The biggest change I notice is that when La Donna calls for someone to set the table there’s no one but me.  Unless we could train the crazy dogs to do that.

Fat chance.  At the moment I would like to be able to train the crazy dogs to shut up.  First of all the weather is so nice, there are some neighborhood boys who have to try their hand at fishing in the pond out back.  Apparently, adolescent boys out at a pond is frown upon by the crazy dogs.  No, wait, I take that back.  It would be great if they only frowned.  No, we have to bark, loudly and incessantly, taking exception to every move they make and every shout they shout (not sure what shouting has to do with fishing, but apparently it is necessary from time to time).  Though the boys won’t take any notice, the rest of us are wearing thin.

And then today, La Donna decided that she needed to have a garage sale to get rid of some of the stuff she was sorting from her mom and dad’s house, plus a few extra things we may have picked up over the years, or stuff the kids outgrew, or lost interest in.  Good idea I thought.  Bad idea barked the crazy dogs.  Bad idea because it means she is of their sight for most of the day and that strange people keep showing up in the driveway and having the audacity to make noise.  Walking, talking, breathing, you know those offenses against the canine sense of order in the universe.

Even when things seem to calm down for a little while, some unheard, unseen, unknown offense sets them off like a alarm you didn’t realize was on snooze.  It can be startling to say the least.  Hard to focus, hard to stay on target.  What was I talking about?  Well, nothing yet, to be honest.  What was it going to be?  I can’t remember.  If only these dogs would be quiet...

Mark 5:21-43   When Jesus had crossed again in the boat to the other side, a great crowd gathered around him; and he was by the sea.  22 Then one of the leaders of the synagogue named Jairus came and, when he saw him, fell at his feet  23 and begged him repeatedly, "My little daughter is at the point of death. Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be made well, and live."  24 So he went with him. And a large crowd followed him and pressed in on him.  

25 Now there was a woman who had been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years.  26 She had endured much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had; and she was no better, but rather grew worse.  27 She had heard about Jesus, and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak,  28 for she said, "If I but touch his clothes, I will be made well."  29 Immediately her hemorrhage stopped; and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease.  30 Immediately aware that power had gone forth from him, Jesus turned about in the crowd and said, "Who touched my clothes?"  31 And his disciples said to him, "You see the crowd pressing in on you; how can you say, 'Who touched me?'"  32 He looked all around to see who had done it.  33 But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling, fell down before him, and told him the whole truth.  34 He said to her, "Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease."  

35 While he was still speaking, some people came from the leader's house to say, "Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the teacher any further?"  36 But overhearing what they said, Jesus said to the leader of the synagogue, "Do not fear, only believe."  37 He allowed no one to follow him except Peter, James, and John, the brother of James.  38 When they came to the house of the leader of the synagogue, he saw a commotion, people weeping and wailing loudly.  39 When he had entered, he said to them, "Why do you make a commotion and weep? The child is not dead but sleeping."  40 And they laughed at him. Then he put them all outside, and took the child's father and mother and those who were with him, and went in where the child was.  41 He took her by the hand and said to her, "Talitha cum," which means, "Little girl, get up!"  42 And immediately the girl got up and began to walk about (she was twelve years of age). At this they were overcome with amazement.  43 He strictly ordered them that no one should know this, and told them to give her something to eat. 

I wonder if Jesus got exasperated at the interruptions.  It seems that time and time again someone comes running up to change his course.  I know he is ready to help and to heal and to go where he is most needed, but still.  The demands of a crowd wanting something from him must have been like barking dogs getting on his last nerve.  Must have been.  But you can’t tell it by reading the gospels.  There seems to be an infinite supply of patience that he could draw on.  OK, maybe one time he seemed a bit short with someone (that’s a story for another time), but for the most part he was grace incarnate.

Well, duh.  Of course the point is, not only him, but us as well.  That’s the hard part.  To not see needs, people, opportunities as interruptions, but as grace moments.  To give and to receive. To be attentive and to be present.  To be alive and real.  Like he was.  He is.

There is more here, however than the interruption.  There is healing, there is acceptance, there is life out of death, there is hope.  There is twelve years of a downward spiral leading to rock bottom, there is twelve years of young life that seems to be vanishing like the morning mist.  There is a daughter reclaimed from shame and suffering, and there is a daughter reclaimed from death.  There is wonder and there is laughter - both before and after Jesus has come into the picture.  And there is a secret.

Ah, the secret.  Why does Jesus tell them not to tell when they aren’t going to help telling.  When you undo a funeral someone is going ask some questions.  It seems an odd thing for Jesus to do.  Surely he knew that they were going to tell.  Unless the commandment wasn’t not to tell, but who got to do the telling.  The only ones in the room were the little girl’s parents and three disciples.  Maybe he wanted to story to be hers and not theirs.  Maybe Jesus was setting the precedent for witness.  Tell your own story, not someone else’s.  And tell it with your living rather than your words, at least at first.  “Give her something to eat!”

But the reason we turned to this story at all has to do with Jairus first of all.  He is our example of a real follower, in our series based on the book by Michael Slaughter (Real Followers: A Radical Quest to Expose the Pretender Inside Each of Us).  

Jairus is a leader of the synagogue, Mark tells us.  That gives him some status, that puts a certain aura around him.  Jairus is one others go to, he is a decider, a determiner.  He has resources, he has position, he has power.  He is used, I am sure, to solving all his own problems.  Except this one.  “My little daughter,” he says, she’s twelve years old,  almost an adult.  Marriageable age, ready to move out and move on.  But at the point of death she becomes his little daughter again.  “Lay your hands on her,” he asks, bless her, ordain her, set he apart, heal her, he asks.  Save her.  The word that we translate here is sozo, sometimes translated as heal, sometimes translated as save.  As in “are you saved?”  Save her, he asked.  “So that she may be made well and live.”  Not just made well, but live also.  Bless her with the fullness of life, give her all that is in store for her, the potential, the goodness, the glory of God.  Let her shine, he asks.  No, he begs, on his knees, face down in the dust, clinging to Jesus ankles, begging.

That’s a follower.  He hadn’t been before, as far as we know.  But he is now.  Because he interrupted the interruptible Jesus, and pleaded for help.  We can’t do this alone.  We need help.  We need His help.  Lay your hands on us, bless us, bless them, bless all we encounter.  Use our hands, use our knees, use whatever it takes to save us, to make us well and alive .

Maybe even barking dogs.  

Shalom,

Derek

All You Can

“Earn all you can, save all you can, give all you can.”  Supposedly this is a quote from John Wesley.  I say supposedly because there is some dispute from historians.  He said something similar to this, though, so I guess we can take it as close enough.  

Earn all you can.  That is certainly in step with our times.  We focus on income for so many things, we define ourselves or rate ourselves based on how much we have coming in.  One of the most popular issues of Parade magazine is the “What people make” issue each year.  We measure our worth on how much we make.  So, when Mr Wesley tells us to make all that we can, he is preaching to the choir.  Singing our song.

But he steps out of line when he moves on to “save all that you can.”  It has never been a favorite pastime of ours, this saving thing.  Personal saving as percentage of income hit a high right after the financial crisis in 2007, reaching a high of 8%.  But lately it has slowly been declining, now around 3%, which is only marginally higher than just before the bubble burst and we all panicked.  Now we are feeling a little more comfortable, so we are officially back to spending more than we make, as a nation.

Which means that the whole giving thing is under threat as well.  National giving rate for 2012 was about 2%, which is a little bit below the saving rate, and is still lower than it was before the recession hit.  2% amounts to a significant amount of money, really.  But, it is all we can?  

OK, so what does this economics lesson have to do with the bible study for this week?  Well, we are looking at another passage from Luke, which automatically raises our economic antennae.  But the truth is I’m not really sure that the theme of this passage is economic.  Well, I mean, it is but it isn’t.  Sort of.  I mean, Jesus seems to avoid the issue at the beginning and then dives into it at the end.  Hmm.  Well, take a look for yourself.

Luke 12:13-21  Someone in the crowd said to him, "Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me."  14 But he said to him, "Friend, who set me to be a judge or arbitrator over you?"  15 And he said to them, "Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one's life does not consist in the abundance of possessions."  16 Then he told them a parable: "The land of a rich man produced abundantly.  17 And he thought to himself, 'What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?'  18 Then he said, 'I will do this: I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods.  19 And I will say to my soul, 'Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.'  20 But God said to him, 'You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?'  21 So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God." 

“Who set me to be a judge...?”  Well, um, didn't you?  Or God?  Or...someone, isn't that the plan, after all?  And then, doesn't he end his story time by passing judgement?  What does he mean by rejecting the plea that comes from someone in the crowd?

I don’t know.  Let’s skip ahead to the parable itself and see if there is anything that makes more sense.  The parable of the rich fool it is called.  And he is named that by no less than God, so I guess we can take it as a given.  But what did he do that was so foolish.  He had at least two of the three Wesley suggestions mentioned earlier.  He had a good year, the land produced abundantly.  And faced with an abundance he decides to save it.  He builds bigger barns to have a place to store it all, to keep if for that proverbial rainy day.

You can’t help but think of Joseph, way back in Genesis, who builds bigger barns to save all the grain that the land of Egypt produced abundantly.  That wasn't presented as a bad thing.  He didn't get a voice from above calling him names.  So, what is so different?

Well, you don’t have to look to hard to see the abundance of first person pronouns in Jesus parable.  The conversation the rich man has is in his head.  He even talks to himself, like some ditzy celebrity referring to himself in the third person.  “I will say to my soul, ‘Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.’”   Joseph’s efforts were to save a nation, the rich fool’s efforts were only for him.  No one benefited but himself.

And yet there seems to be another issue here.  It isn't that God has a thing against saving, or even against relaxing and being merry.  The challenge is a little different.  “You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you.”  Your life is being demanded of you?  What does that mean?  We always assumed that it meant it was his time to die.  And it was the old “you can’t take it with you” kind of approach.  And maybe that is what it is.  But then why doesn't he just say that ?  Why not just say, “you’re dead, dude!”?  

I know, bible talk.  But I tend to think that there is something in that bible talk and we ought to take a moment and listen to it.  “Your life is being demanded of you.”  Here’s an even more curious thing.  In the Greek it is not a passive verb (being demanded).  It is a third person plural.  It should read something like “This night they are demanding your life from you.”  

They?  Who is this they?  What they is in the story?  No they, just a rich fool and God.  And the stuff.  The barns full of stuff.  The stuff he can’t decide what to do with for a moment.  They stuff he is afraid he is going to lose if he doesn't do something quickly with it.  The stuff he is counting on to give himself some relaxation, some joy, some meaning for the rest of his life, however long or short it may be.  The stuff is the they that is demanding his life.  And he is listening to it.  Being drained by it.

Hence the fool designation.  He isn't a fool because he has stuff.  He’s a fool because the stuff has him.  It has become his world.  He can see no horizons, only barns and bigger barns.  And he doesn't even realize it.  “Be on guard against all kinds of greed.”  It is subtle, Jesus says, various, it captures us when we aren't expecting it.  It doesn't look like the same kind of greed we see in someone else, it is unique to us.  It feels like a case of justice to us, “tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me.”  It is only fair.  Right?

Jesus tells us that we have to work some things out on our own.  We have to take our own temperature particularly when it comes to the stuff in our life.  He is asking us to make a choice.  To choose to follow him, not the stuff that we think will provide for us.  To choose to follow him, and not to turn inward against a world that might try to take our stuff.  To choose to follow him and to use the stuff to help us follow.

And how does that happen?  How does stuff help us follow better?  Earn all you can, save all you can, give all you can.

Ah, right.  All I can?  All.  Not just some, not just the leftover, not just what I figure I don’t need anyway.  All I can.

Are you ready to follow all you can?

Shalom,

Derek