Easter Sunday
Do you have a favorite thing about Easter? A favorite Easter memory? I used to love the Sunrise Services that we would attend. I love the rousing music of Easter. And it was the only time of the year that I got white chocolate. How much more special could it get?
During one of my tours in seminary, I was introduced to a British Theologian, Kirsopp Lake. I did a little more reading about him this morning ( I wanted to be sure I spelled his name right). I’m sure that Professor Lake had abundant research to support his theory, but I completely and totally disagreed with him. He said that the women didn’t find Jesus, because in their grief, they went to the wrong tomb. If that were the case it would negate my favorite part of the story.
The women, including Mary, went to the tomb where they laid him. Their hearts were broken. The other women went on home when they found the tomb empty. Mary stayed behind. She sees a man, and thinking he is the gardener, asks where they had taken Jesus’ body. He says her name. And she sees him. Sees Jesus. The Gaither song says, “I’ve just seen Jesus, and I’ll never be the same again.”
He is risen, just as he said. Our economy, our politicians, our employers, our lives are falling apart because we can’t believe what we’re told and we can hardly believe what we see. Who can we trust? We can trust God. Every word he’s spoken is true. And his promises are yes and amen. Banking on God was such a good idea that we put it on our coinage. Everything and everyone could fail you but he never will.
In 2002, Easter took on a very new and deep significance to me. I came to understand resurrection and freedom in a whole new way. Someday we’ll share that story, but for now, let me say it was a day when I came from a very dark place, and time, into newness of life. I felt Jesus’ presence and tenderness just like Mary did, and I’ll never be the same again.
Many times during Jesus’ earthly ministry we hear him telling people not to say anything about the miracles or teaching. It wasn’t time for that. Easter makes it time. Mary, go tell! Peter, go tell! Cleopas, go tell. It’s time to tell!
He lives! He lives! Christ Jesus lives today!
He walks with me and talks with me along life's narrow way.
He lives! He lives! Salvation to impart!
You ask me how I know He lives? He lives within my heart.
He is risen indeed!
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Lent Day 46: Stooping
“I can’t believe they’d stoop that low.” Have you ever said that about someone or had it said about you? As it is typically used, it is definitely not a compliment. Stooping, like submission, is something to be avoided.
This week as I have contemplated Jesus’ last days, I began to think about Saturday. We know what to do with Thursday, Friday, and Sunday, but what do we do with Saturday? We’re good when we have something to do, but not so good when we just have to wait. We get done with Friday and would like to rush into Sunday. What about Saturday?
As I thought about that, I was reminded of the part in the Apostle’s Creed, where we remember that he, Jesus, descended into Hell. There are a lot of opinions about how that got into the creed, and what it really means. Most scholars seem to feel that the confusion arose because of different words used and that Jesus didn’t go to Hell, but to Hades or the place of the dead. I don’t like to get mired down in controversy. Here’s the thought that occurred to me. Jesus stooped, and he stooped very low.
Jesus, according to Paul in Philippians, gave up everything to come to earth. He stooped low. Imagine how low: the son of God, the third person of the trinity, was born and laid in a borrowed cattle trough surrounded by the smells and dirt of a make-shift barn. Jesus, as an adult, appears to have had no home of his own, and always stayed with friends. He stooped to having to depend on others. When it came time to celebrate the Passover, he had to use someone else’s space. When Jesus died, where did they bury him? In a borrowed tomb.
Who did Jesus choose to associate with during his time of ministry? Powerful people came looking for him, but he opted to dine with sinners, tax collectors, and women of questionable character. It reminds me a bit of the motley crowd David found himself in the company of back in the cave: So David got away and escaped to the Cave of Adullam. When his brothers and others associated with his family heard where he was, they came down and joined him. Not only that, but all who were down on their luck came around—losers and vagrants and misfits of all sorts. David became their leader. There were about four hundred in all. (2 Samuel 22:1-2, The Message)
Then there’s the image of Jesus at that final dinner with his friends. No one had “stooped” to wash the feet of those gathered. Jesus didn’t have a servant he could instruct to complete the task, so he did it himself. Anyone there could have done it. No one did. I wonder if the disciples had an instant attack of the “shoulds” as Jesus knelt before them to wash their feet. He was pretty clear when he was done; he had just set the bar for them. How would they measure up? How do we?
I found a phrase while doing some reading this week: Stooping to greatness. What if we were to take the idea of stooping back? What if the measure of our success in life wasn’t how high we could go, but how low? It’s a bit like staying with Saturday. It would be more fun to rush into the celebration of the resurrection, but don’t leave Saturday too quickly. There’s great work to be done while we wait. Jesus stooped, will you?
This week as I have contemplated Jesus’ last days, I began to think about Saturday. We know what to do with Thursday, Friday, and Sunday, but what do we do with Saturday? We’re good when we have something to do, but not so good when we just have to wait. We get done with Friday and would like to rush into Sunday. What about Saturday?
As I thought about that, I was reminded of the part in the Apostle’s Creed, where we remember that he, Jesus, descended into Hell. There are a lot of opinions about how that got into the creed, and what it really means. Most scholars seem to feel that the confusion arose because of different words used and that Jesus didn’t go to Hell, but to Hades or the place of the dead. I don’t like to get mired down in controversy. Here’s the thought that occurred to me. Jesus stooped, and he stooped very low.
Jesus, according to Paul in Philippians, gave up everything to come to earth. He stooped low. Imagine how low: the son of God, the third person of the trinity, was born and laid in a borrowed cattle trough surrounded by the smells and dirt of a make-shift barn. Jesus, as an adult, appears to have had no home of his own, and always stayed with friends. He stooped to having to depend on others. When it came time to celebrate the Passover, he had to use someone else’s space. When Jesus died, where did they bury him? In a borrowed tomb.
Who did Jesus choose to associate with during his time of ministry? Powerful people came looking for him, but he opted to dine with sinners, tax collectors, and women of questionable character. It reminds me a bit of the motley crowd David found himself in the company of back in the cave: So David got away and escaped to the Cave of Adullam. When his brothers and others associated with his family heard where he was, they came down and joined him. Not only that, but all who were down on their luck came around—losers and vagrants and misfits of all sorts. David became their leader. There were about four hundred in all. (2 Samuel 22:1-2, The Message)
Then there’s the image of Jesus at that final dinner with his friends. No one had “stooped” to wash the feet of those gathered. Jesus didn’t have a servant he could instruct to complete the task, so he did it himself. Anyone there could have done it. No one did. I wonder if the disciples had an instant attack of the “shoulds” as Jesus knelt before them to wash their feet. He was pretty clear when he was done; he had just set the bar for them. How would they measure up? How do we?
I found a phrase while doing some reading this week: Stooping to greatness. What if we were to take the idea of stooping back? What if the measure of our success in life wasn’t how high we could go, but how low? It’s a bit like staying with Saturday. It would be more fun to rush into the celebration of the resurrection, but don’t leave Saturday too quickly. There’s great work to be done while we wait. Jesus stooped, will you?
Lent Day 45: Friday
It’s Friday but Sunday’s coming. Does that thought bring you hope? Comfort? I don’t know what your Friday is like, but I’ve had my share and it’s really easy in the midst of pain, suffering and confusion to only focus on Friday. Sunday’s out there, but it seems light years away.
In just about every house that Nelson and I looked at recently, on our hunt for our new home, that was occupied, had a large screen TV. Each time we found one, Nelson asked the same question: does the TV stay? He knew the answer to the question. He just couldn’t help himself. With that fresh in my mind, I had to chuckle when a friend was opening our Sunday School class and he shared a conversation he had with a young man. It seems that the young man was going through some hard times and he was pretty focused on the difficulties of life. My friend likened it to a large plasma screen TV and a 19” black and white. The young man was looking at his situation and seeing the large plasma screen while thinking that God was the 19” screen. My friend told the young man he had things reversed. He needed to see his problems as the 19” and God as the large plasma screen. And so do we.
It’s Friday but Sunday’s coming. There was a woman, a pastor’s wife, who had a huge impact on my faith journey. When life was trying, she would say: “All this and heaven, too!” We understand the “all this” but we’re not so big on heaven. One salty old church member in the last church where I was the pastor said he wasn’t too much interested in heaven, if all it was there was going to be was choir singing. Life may be difficult, but we’ve done pretty well at making things pretty cushy here. We know how to alleviate much pain and suffering. And if we can’t completely dispose of it, we know how to dull it. Heaven just doesn’t move us. So, we don’t look much for Sunday.
It’s Friday but Sunday’s coming. Someone at work was grousing about how frustrating it was that stores and businesses she needed to contact wouldn’t be open on Good Friday. After all, she said, “It’s not a real holiday.” She’s right. It’s not a holiday, but it isn’t much of a holy day either. Before you race into Sunday, what will you do today to remember the extreme suffering of you Lord? Will you hear the pounding of the nails? Will you think of the spilling of his blood? Will you remember his agony? Will you marvel at his forgiveness? Will you weep with his mother?
It’s Friday.
In just about every house that Nelson and I looked at recently, on our hunt for our new home, that was occupied, had a large screen TV. Each time we found one, Nelson asked the same question: does the TV stay? He knew the answer to the question. He just couldn’t help himself. With that fresh in my mind, I had to chuckle when a friend was opening our Sunday School class and he shared a conversation he had with a young man. It seems that the young man was going through some hard times and he was pretty focused on the difficulties of life. My friend likened it to a large plasma screen TV and a 19” black and white. The young man was looking at his situation and seeing the large plasma screen while thinking that God was the 19” screen. My friend told the young man he had things reversed. He needed to see his problems as the 19” and God as the large plasma screen. And so do we.
It’s Friday but Sunday’s coming. There was a woman, a pastor’s wife, who had a huge impact on my faith journey. When life was trying, she would say: “All this and heaven, too!” We understand the “all this” but we’re not so big on heaven. One salty old church member in the last church where I was the pastor said he wasn’t too much interested in heaven, if all it was there was going to be was choir singing. Life may be difficult, but we’ve done pretty well at making things pretty cushy here. We know how to alleviate much pain and suffering. And if we can’t completely dispose of it, we know how to dull it. Heaven just doesn’t move us. So, we don’t look much for Sunday.
It’s Friday but Sunday’s coming. Someone at work was grousing about how frustrating it was that stores and businesses she needed to contact wouldn’t be open on Good Friday. After all, she said, “It’s not a real holiday.” She’s right. It’s not a holiday, but it isn’t much of a holy day either. Before you race into Sunday, what will you do today to remember the extreme suffering of you Lord? Will you hear the pounding of the nails? Will you think of the spilling of his blood? Will you remember his agony? Will you marvel at his forgiveness? Will you weep with his mother?
It’s Friday.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Lent Day 44: Restoration
Peter and Judas betrayed Jesus that last night. Isn’t it odd that we chose to find more in common with Peter than with Judas? When we speak Judas’ name there is such disgust and judgment. It’s as if there is nothing about him that was admirable or that we can identify with. Personally, I don’t find that to be the case. I can find similarities in my behavior and choices that resemble all too clearly the life of Judas. Thankfully, however, there is one huge difference. One that makes me more like Peter.
It’s pretty clear that while Jesus was on earth he had a power ministry, but people didn’t really get the big picture. They were focused on the bread and healings. They saw the huge catches of fish and saw Jesus winning verbal battles with the Pharisees. They were sure he was the Messiah, but the Messiah of their understanding. They were expecting him to rout the Romans and return them to their rightful royal place. Their suffering and patient waiting was finally going to be vindicated—just the way they thought it should be!
I think Judas wanted to speed up the plan. Judas got confused. Judas was focused on the money. After all that was why Jesus picked him, or so he thought. He had to look out for Jesus. I imagine that the Pharisees were pretty slick in their setup of Judas. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been so contrite after the fact and tried to return the money. Judas was like the rest of the folks: he just didn’t really get it.
I can relate to that. It’s not unlike Moses, or Abraham, or David. They saw what needed to be done and figured out a way to speed up God’s plan. It’s typically a choice that has disastrous consequences. Too often I have tried to rush God. I get impatient. I assume that He wants me to act when He would really prefer I trust. My impatience and impertinence become the seedbeds of temptation to rely upon my own wisdom and ways. And it’s never a pretty thing.
I am grateful that this is where grace comes in. I have been recipient of God’s faithful forgiveness so many times. I have been broken. My contrite cries for mercy have risen to my Father more times than I care to count. And that is where my similarity with Judas ends.
Peter and Judas both betrayed Jesus, but only Judas went out and hung himself. Why didn’t Peter? He had been so vocal about his devotion. His was a great fall, with great shame. Why didn’t Peter’s story end that night like Judas’? The big difference I see is that Judas separated himself. Peter went back to the fellowship. Separating ourselves leads to spiritual death. Peter, by not staying away, put himself where he could receive restoration and re-commissioning.
Peter and Judas both betrayed Jesus. I’m thankful at least one of them was restored! Do you know his restoration?
It’s pretty clear that while Jesus was on earth he had a power ministry, but people didn’t really get the big picture. They were focused on the bread and healings. They saw the huge catches of fish and saw Jesus winning verbal battles with the Pharisees. They were sure he was the Messiah, but the Messiah of their understanding. They were expecting him to rout the Romans and return them to their rightful royal place. Their suffering and patient waiting was finally going to be vindicated—just the way they thought it should be!
I think Judas wanted to speed up the plan. Judas got confused. Judas was focused on the money. After all that was why Jesus picked him, or so he thought. He had to look out for Jesus. I imagine that the Pharisees were pretty slick in their setup of Judas. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been so contrite after the fact and tried to return the money. Judas was like the rest of the folks: he just didn’t really get it.
I can relate to that. It’s not unlike Moses, or Abraham, or David. They saw what needed to be done and figured out a way to speed up God’s plan. It’s typically a choice that has disastrous consequences. Too often I have tried to rush God. I get impatient. I assume that He wants me to act when He would really prefer I trust. My impatience and impertinence become the seedbeds of temptation to rely upon my own wisdom and ways. And it’s never a pretty thing.
I am grateful that this is where grace comes in. I have been recipient of God’s faithful forgiveness so many times. I have been broken. My contrite cries for mercy have risen to my Father more times than I care to count. And that is where my similarity with Judas ends.
Peter and Judas both betrayed Jesus, but only Judas went out and hung himself. Why didn’t Peter? He had been so vocal about his devotion. His was a great fall, with great shame. Why didn’t Peter’s story end that night like Judas’? The big difference I see is that Judas separated himself. Peter went back to the fellowship. Separating ourselves leads to spiritual death. Peter, by not staying away, put himself where he could receive restoration and re-commissioning.
Peter and Judas both betrayed Jesus. I’m thankful at least one of them was restored! Do you know his restoration?
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Lent Day 43: Denial
I’m reading a book by Michael Card on Peter called, “Fragile Stone.” As he is introducing Peter he states that next to Jesus it is Peter whose character is most developed and presented. Perhaps that’s why so many are able to identify with Peter: there’s just so much of his story that we can relate to some part of it. For example, who of us can’t relate to Peter’s desire to stay on the mountain, or loss of focus when the waves rose around his feet, or boast of allegiance only to find himself in the pit of betrayal? Peter spoke before he thought and acted just as rashly. Just ask the earless soldier in the garden.
It’s a funny thing, betrayal. Most of us don’t get up in the morning and decide that it’s a good day to turn our backs on God. I believe Peter was absolutely sincere in his declaration that he would follow Jesus even to death. He honestly felt he had left everything to follow Jesus. Peter didn’t feel like the voice of Satan when he tried to dissuade Jesus from his unreasonable thoughts of death.
Most people feel that Peter’s denials were verbal in nature. The more I read the story, the more I see that his denial went far beyond mere words. Mark’s gospel is Peter’s story and I believe it gives a pretty clear picture of the expanse of Peter’s denial.
First, see Peter going to the Garden of Gethsemane. More than once, Peter has been pulled aside with James and John for some special moment. Here, Jesus needs the support of his closest friends. Now, whether the day had been long or there had been too much wine at dinner, these friends who should have been supporting Jesus kept falling asleep. It was a denial of how much Jesus needed them. It was a denial and a lack of attention. Jesus warns them that if they don’t pay attention, they would become easy prey for the enemy’s temptations. It was a denial of Jesus and a giving into self. This denial is in Peter’s attitude towards the moment.
Then after Jesus is led away by the soldiers, Peter denies Jesus by his behavior. Mark tells us that Peter followed far behind. Peter separated himself from Jesus. He watched from afar. He didn’t want to be caught. He didn’t want to be noticed. Where was the bold Peter who claimed he would follow Jesus all the way? When the going got tough, Peter took cover.
Then, just before the cock crowed, Peter denied Jesus once again. This time he denied him with his words. He didn’t hide well enough and was spied. When the people in the crowd pressed him, he used strong language to deny that he even knew Jesus. Peter may have been a fisherman, but he had a “sailor’s mouth” and he knew how to use that language. And when he did, the people stopped pestering him about it. Surely, someone who walked with the Master wouldn’t talk like that.
Attitude. Behavior. Speech. And when the cock crowed Peter’s eyes found Jesus gaze. Do you know that moment? Have you felt the absolute shame that comes from knowing you have denied Jesus? Peter was broken and he ran away from the gaze. Thankfully he didn’t stay away. But we’ll talk about that tomorrow. For now, I invite you to look into your heart and ask God to show you your own denial. And once found, find also his forgiveness.
It’s a funny thing, betrayal. Most of us don’t get up in the morning and decide that it’s a good day to turn our backs on God. I believe Peter was absolutely sincere in his declaration that he would follow Jesus even to death. He honestly felt he had left everything to follow Jesus. Peter didn’t feel like the voice of Satan when he tried to dissuade Jesus from his unreasonable thoughts of death.
Most people feel that Peter’s denials were verbal in nature. The more I read the story, the more I see that his denial went far beyond mere words. Mark’s gospel is Peter’s story and I believe it gives a pretty clear picture of the expanse of Peter’s denial.
First, see Peter going to the Garden of Gethsemane. More than once, Peter has been pulled aside with James and John for some special moment. Here, Jesus needs the support of his closest friends. Now, whether the day had been long or there had been too much wine at dinner, these friends who should have been supporting Jesus kept falling asleep. It was a denial of how much Jesus needed them. It was a denial and a lack of attention. Jesus warns them that if they don’t pay attention, they would become easy prey for the enemy’s temptations. It was a denial of Jesus and a giving into self. This denial is in Peter’s attitude towards the moment.
Then after Jesus is led away by the soldiers, Peter denies Jesus by his behavior. Mark tells us that Peter followed far behind. Peter separated himself from Jesus. He watched from afar. He didn’t want to be caught. He didn’t want to be noticed. Where was the bold Peter who claimed he would follow Jesus all the way? When the going got tough, Peter took cover.
Then, just before the cock crowed, Peter denied Jesus once again. This time he denied him with his words. He didn’t hide well enough and was spied. When the people in the crowd pressed him, he used strong language to deny that he even knew Jesus. Peter may have been a fisherman, but he had a “sailor’s mouth” and he knew how to use that language. And when he did, the people stopped pestering him about it. Surely, someone who walked with the Master wouldn’t talk like that.
Attitude. Behavior. Speech. And when the cock crowed Peter’s eyes found Jesus gaze. Do you know that moment? Have you felt the absolute shame that comes from knowing you have denied Jesus? Peter was broken and he ran away from the gaze. Thankfully he didn’t stay away. But we’ll talk about that tomorrow. For now, I invite you to look into your heart and ask God to show you your own denial. And once found, find also his forgiveness.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Lent Day 42: Supping
I love food. I love eating out and I love eating at home when my husband cooks. I love trying new things and I love my favorite comfort foods. I have never met a donut I didn’t love. Is there a better caloric solace for any disappointment than a Double Stuff Oreo? Hearing that Krispy Kream may be going bankrupt made me want to go buy three boxes. Food. I celebrate with it, commiserate with it, and console with it. I savor it. I stuff it. I love food.
I love sharing a meal with friends, whether it’s a quiet meal with my husband or a friend, or a carry-in dinner at church, and everything in between. This is not something I grew up with at home. Mealtimes were not pleasant social experiences. We came to the table when we were called, ate what was placed before us (as quickly as possible), excused ourselves and moved on. My father’s favorite and oft said table comment was, “Sit up, shut, and eat.”
Going to college changed all that for me. I understood immediately the phenomenon of the Freshman 15 (average pounds gained by Freshman) and was more than willing to become a statistic. College was also where I learned to drink coffee. At my college the food was good, but that didn’t really matter. We ate and ate, and drank lots of coffee, and hung out in the cafeteria until they kicked us out.
This change in perspective and paradigm paved the way for me to better understand Jesus’ words in Revelation 3:20: “Look! I stand at the door and knock. If you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in, and we will share a meal together as friends.” When I lived at home there was not much about this invitation that was “inviting.” College introduced me to the relaxed fellowship that is more akin to what Jesus was offering. Sharing a meal involves necessary caloric and nutrient intake for our physical being, but also the fellowship that our spirits need.
As I reflected on this, I realized that the seeds for this transition were planted while I was in High School. One of my most favorite things we did was pile into cars and drive across town to Farrell’s Ice Cream Parlor. I’m not sure our contribution kept them in business, but we did what we could. It was there where I learned how much fun could be had sharing a meal as we downed our Pig Trough’s, Zoos, and Gibson Girls. All the while, we were shouting over the banging drum and celebrations all around us. Here, no one said or thought, “sit up, shut up, and eat.”
My college experience expanded this fellowship theme in so many ways. While I was there I traveled through the educational zone singing and preaching at churches on weekends. Through this I was introduced to the wonders of church carry-in dinners. Nothing says we love you like a feast prepared by church ladies! I was also blessed by the way people opened their homes to us, perfect strangers. It was so foreign to me, but the welcome was so genuine that I couldn’t help but take to it like a kitten to fresh milk.
Sharing a meal together. Researchers have been telling us that there are strong benefits to families and children who sit down and eat meals together. So, is it any wonder that God used meals to teach about himself? The Passover meal helped countless followers to understand God’s great mercy, love, and provision. Jesus gathered his disciples together at the end of his life and shared a meal. And in that meal gave us the means to remember his life and death and gift to us.
Many have used the Rev. 3:20’s invitation as a gateway to salvation, the beginning of the journey. And while that may be appropriate, I believe that the invitation is also about the continuation and deepening of our relationship. Just as we sat and ate and drank and hung around the table in college, Jesus invites us to deeper fellowship and relationship with him. Will you answer the door?
I love sharing a meal with friends, whether it’s a quiet meal with my husband or a friend, or a carry-in dinner at church, and everything in between. This is not something I grew up with at home. Mealtimes were not pleasant social experiences. We came to the table when we were called, ate what was placed before us (as quickly as possible), excused ourselves and moved on. My father’s favorite and oft said table comment was, “Sit up, shut, and eat.”
Going to college changed all that for me. I understood immediately the phenomenon of the Freshman 15 (average pounds gained by Freshman) and was more than willing to become a statistic. College was also where I learned to drink coffee. At my college the food was good, but that didn’t really matter. We ate and ate, and drank lots of coffee, and hung out in the cafeteria until they kicked us out.
This change in perspective and paradigm paved the way for me to better understand Jesus’ words in Revelation 3:20: “Look! I stand at the door and knock. If you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in, and we will share a meal together as friends.” When I lived at home there was not much about this invitation that was “inviting.” College introduced me to the relaxed fellowship that is more akin to what Jesus was offering. Sharing a meal involves necessary caloric and nutrient intake for our physical being, but also the fellowship that our spirits need.
As I reflected on this, I realized that the seeds for this transition were planted while I was in High School. One of my most favorite things we did was pile into cars and drive across town to Farrell’s Ice Cream Parlor. I’m not sure our contribution kept them in business, but we did what we could. It was there where I learned how much fun could be had sharing a meal as we downed our Pig Trough’s, Zoos, and Gibson Girls. All the while, we were shouting over the banging drum and celebrations all around us. Here, no one said or thought, “sit up, shut up, and eat.”
My college experience expanded this fellowship theme in so many ways. While I was there I traveled through the educational zone singing and preaching at churches on weekends. Through this I was introduced to the wonders of church carry-in dinners. Nothing says we love you like a feast prepared by church ladies! I was also blessed by the way people opened their homes to us, perfect strangers. It was so foreign to me, but the welcome was so genuine that I couldn’t help but take to it like a kitten to fresh milk.
Sharing a meal together. Researchers have been telling us that there are strong benefits to families and children who sit down and eat meals together. So, is it any wonder that God used meals to teach about himself? The Passover meal helped countless followers to understand God’s great mercy, love, and provision. Jesus gathered his disciples together at the end of his life and shared a meal. And in that meal gave us the means to remember his life and death and gift to us.
Many have used the Rev. 3:20’s invitation as a gateway to salvation, the beginning of the journey. And while that may be appropriate, I believe that the invitation is also about the continuation and deepening of our relationship. Just as we sat and ate and drank and hung around the table in college, Jesus invites us to deeper fellowship and relationship with him. Will you answer the door?
Monday, April 6, 2009
Lent Day 41: Blessing
The church my family attends is a Brethren Church. Last night we celebrated three-fold communion with them. This experience includes a light meal, footwashing, and the sharing of the cup and bread. The first time I experienced communion this way was during my first time at seminary in the early 80’s. I was deeply moved. During a service in a Nazarene church I pastored in Kansas City, as a gesture aimed at healing and setting the tone for my leadership, I washed the feet of my board members. In my last pastoral position in a Mennonite Church we participated in footwashing on Maundy Thursday.
I will confess, in the past, when I have gone into the room with the women to wash feet, I have looked for someone I knew. It made the experience seem less awkward and uncomfortable. Last night I ended up in a circle of women I didn’t really know. As the deaconess washed the feet of the women to my left, I listened to their conversation. I learned her name and which services she attended. As she then washed my feet, I learned of her love for missions. I then found out she and my husband had been on the same mission trip a couple years back to Chicago. We shared a word of blessing and then I turned to the woman on my right and confessed I couldn’t remember her name. It turned out that her husband had helped us move into our home. We connected and shared a word of blessing. It was a very special time. I don’t think I’ll ever look for people I know again.
I sat at a table with people I knew, but hadn’t been at communion with all of them before. The conversation was good through the meal. Many words of encouragement and support were spoken. After we ate there was a time of worship and praise singing. When we shared the cup and bread, the person to the left would speak a word of blessing on the person to their right. It was very sweet to receive a blessing from my sister to my left. I thought of how she had blessed me several times and she probably didn’t even know it. I felt prompted to write her a note this week. Then I turned and had the blessing of blessing a very dear man. He had been a professor, was advisor on my thesis, and is just one of my favorite people on earth. He nearly blew me away as we parted when he told me how much he appreciated my words of blessing.
What were the last words of blessing you shared with someone? As I thought about this I thought about my friend Pam. I sang at her ordination service last July. At the service she spoke a word of blessing on every person there—individually. It was a powerful and emotional time. In the natural order of things we should have been blessing her. It was her service. But she turned the tables and blessed each of us.
I really love when a worship service ends with a true benediction. I open my hands to receive it. I want to be sent out sensing blessing and commissioning of my life and service for the week ahead. Blessings are important for our children and grandchildren, our friends and our co-workers. Do our lives bless others? How about our words?
Think about all the negatives that people hear in a day. Spirits are so often bruised, if not completely crushed. Just as Abraham was blessed to be a blessing (Genesis 12:2), so are we and so are we to be. So for my reading sisters and brothers, I pray that God will pour into this week a greater sense of wonder, a deeper awareness of the love outpoured, and more grace than you have ever known. As you move through this Holy Week, know that he goes before you and walks right beside you.
Be blessed.
I will confess, in the past, when I have gone into the room with the women to wash feet, I have looked for someone I knew. It made the experience seem less awkward and uncomfortable. Last night I ended up in a circle of women I didn’t really know. As the deaconess washed the feet of the women to my left, I listened to their conversation. I learned her name and which services she attended. As she then washed my feet, I learned of her love for missions. I then found out she and my husband had been on the same mission trip a couple years back to Chicago. We shared a word of blessing and then I turned to the woman on my right and confessed I couldn’t remember her name. It turned out that her husband had helped us move into our home. We connected and shared a word of blessing. It was a very special time. I don’t think I’ll ever look for people I know again.
I sat at a table with people I knew, but hadn’t been at communion with all of them before. The conversation was good through the meal. Many words of encouragement and support were spoken. After we ate there was a time of worship and praise singing. When we shared the cup and bread, the person to the left would speak a word of blessing on the person to their right. It was very sweet to receive a blessing from my sister to my left. I thought of how she had blessed me several times and she probably didn’t even know it. I felt prompted to write her a note this week. Then I turned and had the blessing of blessing a very dear man. He had been a professor, was advisor on my thesis, and is just one of my favorite people on earth. He nearly blew me away as we parted when he told me how much he appreciated my words of blessing.
What were the last words of blessing you shared with someone? As I thought about this I thought about my friend Pam. I sang at her ordination service last July. At the service she spoke a word of blessing on every person there—individually. It was a powerful and emotional time. In the natural order of things we should have been blessing her. It was her service. But she turned the tables and blessed each of us.
I really love when a worship service ends with a true benediction. I open my hands to receive it. I want to be sent out sensing blessing and commissioning of my life and service for the week ahead. Blessings are important for our children and grandchildren, our friends and our co-workers. Do our lives bless others? How about our words?
Think about all the negatives that people hear in a day. Spirits are so often bruised, if not completely crushed. Just as Abraham was blessed to be a blessing (Genesis 12:2), so are we and so are we to be. So for my reading sisters and brothers, I pray that God will pour into this week a greater sense of wonder, a deeper awareness of the love outpoured, and more grace than you have ever known. As you move through this Holy Week, know that he goes before you and walks right beside you.
Be blessed.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Lent Day 40: Praise
When I was in college I was able to visit Europe and experience the beauty of so many places. None was quite as breath-taking as seeing the Alps in Bavaria. Standing at the South Rim of the Grand Canyon, once I caught my breath, I remembered the beauty of the Alps and I thought of a verse in Luke 19: "if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out." The magnificence of the Grand Canyon made me wonder who wasn’t doing their job?
I thought about this again this week as I witnessed the emergence of the spring flowers and the greening of the grass. Am I going to allow the earth to sing praise to the Creator alone, or will I join the chorus?
Today is Palm Sunday. The observance of this day confused me as a child. It reminded me of a scary movie. Do you remember how the “stars” would inevitably go into the dark basement where the monster was waiting to spring out and attack them? You would be sitting in your chair yelling at the TV trying to warn them of their doom, “Don’t go in the basement!” But they always did. As a child, I wanted to yell at the silent Savior, “Don’t go into Jerusalem. They’re going to kill you!” But he always went.
Today, I’m thankful that Jesus knew the Father’s plan and even though he will wrestle with it in the Garden, he goes anyway. Today, as I read the story, I was struck by two things: the fickleness of the crowd and my responsibility to praise—even when I don’t fully get it.
The people were enamored with Jesus because he fed them and healed them. The colt he road into Jerusalem on wasn’t quite the white steed of the conquering hero, but somehow they sensed his importance and they lauded him as he went by. This guy was really going to make a difference. They just didn’t realize how much. Unfortunately, under pressure later in the week, many of the cheers were changed to curses. The fickle crowd switched teams. Their cheers seemed to follow whoever was winning.
I don’t want to be fickle. I don’t want to praise just when I’m overwhelmed by his amazing love like I was overwhelmed by the Canyon. I want to praise him in everything. That’s what Paul suggested and Peterson makes it so clear in The Message: 4-5Celebrate God all day, every day. I mean, revel in him! Make it as clear as you can to all you meet that you're on their side, working with them and not against them. Help them see that the Master is about to arrive. He could show up any minute! (Philippians 4:4-5)
That also means I will praise him even when I don’t get it. The devastating reversals of loss, either of health, wealth, or well-being, will not deter my praise. Just because I don’t understand, doesn’t mean God isn’t in control. The rocks are not going to do my job. How about you?
I thought about this again this week as I witnessed the emergence of the spring flowers and the greening of the grass. Am I going to allow the earth to sing praise to the Creator alone, or will I join the chorus?
Today is Palm Sunday. The observance of this day confused me as a child. It reminded me of a scary movie. Do you remember how the “stars” would inevitably go into the dark basement where the monster was waiting to spring out and attack them? You would be sitting in your chair yelling at the TV trying to warn them of their doom, “Don’t go in the basement!” But they always did. As a child, I wanted to yell at the silent Savior, “Don’t go into Jerusalem. They’re going to kill you!” But he always went.
Today, I’m thankful that Jesus knew the Father’s plan and even though he will wrestle with it in the Garden, he goes anyway. Today, as I read the story, I was struck by two things: the fickleness of the crowd and my responsibility to praise—even when I don’t fully get it.
The people were enamored with Jesus because he fed them and healed them. The colt he road into Jerusalem on wasn’t quite the white steed of the conquering hero, but somehow they sensed his importance and they lauded him as he went by. This guy was really going to make a difference. They just didn’t realize how much. Unfortunately, under pressure later in the week, many of the cheers were changed to curses. The fickle crowd switched teams. Their cheers seemed to follow whoever was winning.
I don’t want to be fickle. I don’t want to praise just when I’m overwhelmed by his amazing love like I was overwhelmed by the Canyon. I want to praise him in everything. That’s what Paul suggested and Peterson makes it so clear in The Message: 4-5Celebrate God all day, every day. I mean, revel in him! Make it as clear as you can to all you meet that you're on their side, working with them and not against them. Help them see that the Master is about to arrive. He could show up any minute! (Philippians 4:4-5)
That also means I will praise him even when I don’t get it. The devastating reversals of loss, either of health, wealth, or well-being, will not deter my praise. Just because I don’t understand, doesn’t mean God isn’t in control. The rocks are not going to do my job. How about you?
Lent Day 38: Purpose
For a while I thought I was depressed. Life changed drastically for me when I lost my job. In part, I think the trauma was due to the to the fact that I found my identity in what I did. The challenges of the work gave me purpose. I felt vital and alive. Losing my job meant I lost my sense of purpose.
I used to teach groups of people how to write their mission statements. We didn’t start with that. We would back up and talk about finding their passion in life and for life. When it came to putting that passion into a working purpose or mission statement, I would teach to the difference between a goal (short term) and a mission statement (life- long driving force). A mission or purpose statement is something you can see devoting your whole life to. It is true now and will be true in twenty, thirty, even fifty years.
Reflecting on this, I wasn’t really depressed. I was just adrift and going nowhere because I had taken my eyes off the map. I thought that without the job I wouldn’t be able to follow my purpose and mission. I forgot that the job wasn’t the only vehicle to get me where I needed to be. I forgot that the whether I’m teaching or cleaning toilets, it is the purpose or mission God has for my life that matters and he will provide me with the opportunities I need. I forgot that it is God who gifts me and directs me to use those gifts.
I was reading about John the Baptist in Mark’s gospel. I don’t think there are many who would sign up for John’s job—especially if they knew how it was going to end for him. Yet , even in the briefest of ministries, John paved the way by preparing the people for the emergence of Jesus’ life-changing ministry.
It reminds me of relief pitchers in baseball. They will never pitch a whole game. That’s not their job. It’s not why they were hired. Some of those guys will only throw a few pitches and the next thing we see is the coach headed to the mound. Those couple of precisely placed pitches are what the reliever gets paid the big bucks for. It’s their purpose.
Now, dust off your imagination and try and picture your favorite baseball team has made it to the playoffs! And they did it not just on their bats, but on their pitching. But now that they've made it to the biggest games, the team's relievers and closers have decided they want more playing time and they've threatened to not play at all if they don't get the opportunity to pitch a whole game. How crazy is that? How dare they hold the game hostage for their whims?
The apostle Paul, in his discussion of gifts, makes this statement: 18 But our bodies have many parts, and God has put each part just where he wants it (1 Corinthians 12, NLT). Right there with the assurance that we all have a part, we're told that we are placed right where He wants us. That's why we really need to bloom where we're planted!
I used to teach groups of people how to write their mission statements. We didn’t start with that. We would back up and talk about finding their passion in life and for life. When it came to putting that passion into a working purpose or mission statement, I would teach to the difference between a goal (short term) and a mission statement (life- long driving force). A mission or purpose statement is something you can see devoting your whole life to. It is true now and will be true in twenty, thirty, even fifty years.
Reflecting on this, I wasn’t really depressed. I was just adrift and going nowhere because I had taken my eyes off the map. I thought that without the job I wouldn’t be able to follow my purpose and mission. I forgot that the job wasn’t the only vehicle to get me where I needed to be. I forgot that the whether I’m teaching or cleaning toilets, it is the purpose or mission God has for my life that matters and he will provide me with the opportunities I need. I forgot that it is God who gifts me and directs me to use those gifts.
I was reading about John the Baptist in Mark’s gospel. I don’t think there are many who would sign up for John’s job—especially if they knew how it was going to end for him. Yet , even in the briefest of ministries, John paved the way by preparing the people for the emergence of Jesus’ life-changing ministry.
It reminds me of relief pitchers in baseball. They will never pitch a whole game. That’s not their job. It’s not why they were hired. Some of those guys will only throw a few pitches and the next thing we see is the coach headed to the mound. Those couple of precisely placed pitches are what the reliever gets paid the big bucks for. It’s their purpose.
Now, dust off your imagination and try and picture your favorite baseball team has made it to the playoffs! And they did it not just on their bats, but on their pitching. But now that they've made it to the biggest games, the team's relievers and closers have decided they want more playing time and they've threatened to not play at all if they don't get the opportunity to pitch a whole game. How crazy is that? How dare they hold the game hostage for their whims?
The apostle Paul, in his discussion of gifts, makes this statement: 18 But our bodies have many parts, and God has put each part just where he wants it (1 Corinthians 12, NLT). Right there with the assurance that we all have a part, we're told that we are placed right where He wants us. That's why we really need to bloom where we're planted!
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Lent Day 39: Suffering
I’m helping with a Prayer Journey to the Cross at church, which takes participants through the Stations of the Cross, Jesus’ final week on earth before his crucifixion. I’m responsible for two stations, The Betrayal and The Garden of Gethsemane. I partnered with an amazingly creative woman for the Garden Station. As soon as I knew that the focus was suffering, I had an idea for the station. I called my friend and asked her if she could put together a video loop of pictures of suffering and tie it to music. I picked the CD up from her today. I was blown away when I watched it. I had my daughter watch it. I could tell it made quite an impact on her.
I have known my share of disappointments. I’ve gone through some difficult times. I’ve grieved the loss of friends and family. Things have been tight financially, but we’ve never gone hungry or wondered where we’d sleep at night. I’ve never really suffered. Not like the people in those pictures. We lost our home when the restaurants failed and I lost my livelihood. We had two auctions and sold the lion’s share of our belongings, but always had a place to live and way more stuff than we can use.
Suffering. I have sat here and run through my life in my mind. I often say that I am blessed. I really believe I am. Life is not without its struggles. Legal issues will stay with me until I die. Judgment and prejudice will leave their mark on where I live and the kind of work I can and cannot do. But I am married to an amazing man who blesses me every day. I have two daughter and three grandchildren who bring me immeasurable joy. I have the best friends in the world. My mom is just the best there is.
I have health, education, and work I enjoy.
At each of the stations there will be some item that the participants will take away with them. When they are in the Garden they will receive a hand (a construction paper cutout). They will be invited to write the name of a person or group who is suffering on the hand and then ask God how they can be his hands to that person.
I know you don’t have the video. I know you can’t hear the music. But you can hear His voice. Whose suffering can you ease today? Will you let him write that name on your hands and in your heart?
I have known my share of disappointments. I’ve gone through some difficult times. I’ve grieved the loss of friends and family. Things have been tight financially, but we’ve never gone hungry or wondered where we’d sleep at night. I’ve never really suffered. Not like the people in those pictures. We lost our home when the restaurants failed and I lost my livelihood. We had two auctions and sold the lion’s share of our belongings, but always had a place to live and way more stuff than we can use.
Suffering. I have sat here and run through my life in my mind. I often say that I am blessed. I really believe I am. Life is not without its struggles. Legal issues will stay with me until I die. Judgment and prejudice will leave their mark on where I live and the kind of work I can and cannot do. But I am married to an amazing man who blesses me every day. I have two daughter and three grandchildren who bring me immeasurable joy. I have the best friends in the world. My mom is just the best there is.
I have health, education, and work I enjoy.
At each of the stations there will be some item that the participants will take away with them. When they are in the Garden they will receive a hand (a construction paper cutout). They will be invited to write the name of a person or group who is suffering on the hand and then ask God how they can be his hands to that person.
I know you don’t have the video. I know you can’t hear the music. But you can hear His voice. Whose suffering can you ease today? Will you let him write that name on your hands and in your heart?
Thursday, April 2, 2009
A Rhythm Postscript and A Random Thought
Rhythm Postscript:
After posting a devotional on rhythm, I should have anticipated facing challenges to my rhythm. But I didn’t. Somehow as I was preparing for work , I found myself behind schedule. I hadn’t eaten breakfast. I had my tea, but I knew I’d need more than just a banana. I decided to grab an egg biscuit at Burger King. It’s on the way, there’s usually no one in line, and it’s under a buck.
I pulled into BK and there were two vehicles in front of me. Sigh. This is going to put me way behind. The first vehicle is a van. I can see the driver in his side view mirror. He’s arguing with someone on a cell phone and tying to place an order at the same time. While he’s doing that I catch a glimpse of the woman in the car in front of me. She’s using her side mirror to help her put on her mascara. The two cars behind me probably wondered about the crazy lady laughing hysterically in the blue Jeep Liberty.
I read this quote from Thoreau this week: If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.
What beat are you hearing? The Father is hoping you’re keeping pace!
And for the thought: Part of the trouble I have with spelling RHYTHM is that I want to spell it RHYTHYM...It's never good to have too many Why's....
After posting a devotional on rhythm, I should have anticipated facing challenges to my rhythm. But I didn’t. Somehow as I was preparing for work , I found myself behind schedule. I hadn’t eaten breakfast. I had my tea, but I knew I’d need more than just a banana. I decided to grab an egg biscuit at Burger King. It’s on the way, there’s usually no one in line, and it’s under a buck.
I pulled into BK and there were two vehicles in front of me. Sigh. This is going to put me way behind. The first vehicle is a van. I can see the driver in his side view mirror. He’s arguing with someone on a cell phone and tying to place an order at the same time. While he’s doing that I catch a glimpse of the woman in the car in front of me. She’s using her side mirror to help her put on her mascara. The two cars behind me probably wondered about the crazy lady laughing hysterically in the blue Jeep Liberty.
I read this quote from Thoreau this week: If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.
What beat are you hearing? The Father is hoping you’re keeping pace!
And for the thought: Part of the trouble I have with spelling RHYTHM is that I want to spell it RHYTHYM...It's never good to have too many Why's....
Lent Day 37: Rhythm
Rhythm. I never spell that word right. Perhaps if I were a heart specialist spending my days examining and checking rhythms, or a professor of music, pounding out rhythms to students, I would find the word more natural to use and spell. As hard, though, as it is to wrap my brain around spelling it, it’s even harder for me to wrap my spirit around it.
As I reflected upon rhythm, I was reminded of the movie, “Kate and Leopold.” In the movie a man from the past is transported to modern day. His presence changes the life of a marketing executive who is all push and drive. Late in the movie, when Kate finally believes who Leo is, she asks him what he misses from his time. He tells her he misses the pace and rhythm of life.
When Jesus looked out on the crowd, he was moved with compassion. He saw horribly out of sync they were with the Father and he told them: "Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly." (Matthew 11:28-30, The Message)
I’m a pairs junkie. I love to watch great partners dance. I am easily sucked into watching pairs figure skating. I don’t think they televise nearly enough pairs/doubles tennis. I love to see how two become one. It’s as if they transcend anticipating the other’s moves and begin to beat as one. I think that’s what Jesus was inviting the people, inviting us, to.
Last night when I got home from work, I was spent. I had put in three twelve hour days in a row. I wanted to crash, but my three year old grandson was here. I love him. He is the funnest thing on earth. His favorite thing to do is chase. We run through the house like race cars. Last night he was lapping me because I just didn’t have the energy to keep up. After his mommy picked him, I sat down to type this devotional. I had written most of it earlier in the day. I had felt good about being ahead. When I went to save what I had typed, I hit no. And just that quickly, it was all gone. I sat in my chair, staring at the blank computer screen in disbelief. I was so tired that I erased everything. That’s physical weariness.
We can become just as weary spiritually by keeping a pace that we were not designed for. Think about it. Back in the Garden, what did God and Adam do? They weren’t practicing for a marathon. They walked together. Enoch walked with God, and was no more. Jesus walked with the two on the Emmaus Road. It seems that God’s pace is very different from our own. And when we might expect God to walk, he ran. He ran out to meet the wayward Prodigal Son and welcome him home.
Unforced rhythms of grace. I love that phrase. As I think about it, I am aware of the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock across the room. Its beat is so natural and reassuring. It’s very unlike the beat at work. To keep people working out at a healthy clip, the music at Curves has to be within a specific beat—fast. Some of the remakes of songs make me laugh, because those songs were never intended to be sung as fast as our beat requires. Think about “O Holy Night” or “Word of God Speak” at 180 beats per minute. Ludicrous. Ridiculous. Unnatural.
So is much of our living. The problem is this: sometimes we are called to a fast paced life. The demands require much of us. I would never presume to say we need to return to the pace of the Amish (though recently, the thought held some intrigue for me). I would, however, suggest that we need to check ourselves. Can we honestly say with Paul, “'For in him we live and move and have our being (Acts 17:28, NIV)”? That’s what Jesus was inviting us to. When we live life at our pace, we are out of sync with the Creator of life, and we will always feel out of step.
If we are tired of being tired, perhaps the solution is to find those unforced rhythms of grace and learn how they will work in our lives.
As I reflected upon rhythm, I was reminded of the movie, “Kate and Leopold.” In the movie a man from the past is transported to modern day. His presence changes the life of a marketing executive who is all push and drive. Late in the movie, when Kate finally believes who Leo is, she asks him what he misses from his time. He tells her he misses the pace and rhythm of life.
When Jesus looked out on the crowd, he was moved with compassion. He saw horribly out of sync they were with the Father and he told them: "Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly." (Matthew 11:28-30, The Message)
I’m a pairs junkie. I love to watch great partners dance. I am easily sucked into watching pairs figure skating. I don’t think they televise nearly enough pairs/doubles tennis. I love to see how two become one. It’s as if they transcend anticipating the other’s moves and begin to beat as one. I think that’s what Jesus was inviting the people, inviting us, to.
Last night when I got home from work, I was spent. I had put in three twelve hour days in a row. I wanted to crash, but my three year old grandson was here. I love him. He is the funnest thing on earth. His favorite thing to do is chase. We run through the house like race cars. Last night he was lapping me because I just didn’t have the energy to keep up. After his mommy picked him, I sat down to type this devotional. I had written most of it earlier in the day. I had felt good about being ahead. When I went to save what I had typed, I hit no. And just that quickly, it was all gone. I sat in my chair, staring at the blank computer screen in disbelief. I was so tired that I erased everything. That’s physical weariness.
We can become just as weary spiritually by keeping a pace that we were not designed for. Think about it. Back in the Garden, what did God and Adam do? They weren’t practicing for a marathon. They walked together. Enoch walked with God, and was no more. Jesus walked with the two on the Emmaus Road. It seems that God’s pace is very different from our own. And when we might expect God to walk, he ran. He ran out to meet the wayward Prodigal Son and welcome him home.
Unforced rhythms of grace. I love that phrase. As I think about it, I am aware of the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock across the room. Its beat is so natural and reassuring. It’s very unlike the beat at work. To keep people working out at a healthy clip, the music at Curves has to be within a specific beat—fast. Some of the remakes of songs make me laugh, because those songs were never intended to be sung as fast as our beat requires. Think about “O Holy Night” or “Word of God Speak” at 180 beats per minute. Ludicrous. Ridiculous. Unnatural.
So is much of our living. The problem is this: sometimes we are called to a fast paced life. The demands require much of us. I would never presume to say we need to return to the pace of the Amish (though recently, the thought held some intrigue for me). I would, however, suggest that we need to check ourselves. Can we honestly say with Paul, “'For in him we live and move and have our being (Acts 17:28, NIV)”? That’s what Jesus was inviting us to. When we live life at our pace, we are out of sync with the Creator of life, and we will always feel out of step.
If we are tired of being tired, perhaps the solution is to find those unforced rhythms of grace and learn how they will work in our lives.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Lent Day 36: Fear
“The question is not what you look at, but what you see.” ~Thoreau
My daughter thought she wanted to be a marine biologist. When it came time for college, she chose a school with a great marine biology program in Florida. For all her excitement, you would have thought we birthed and raised the next Jacques Cousteau. The excitement quickly faded during her Intro to Marine Biology course. The professor took the class to a lagoon to “get their feet wet.” Annie froze—literally. Tearfully and woefully, she returned to shore unable to complete the assignment. The reason for her freezing: she couldn’t see the bottom and the fear of what she could not see totally immobilized her. She ended up dropping the course, withdrawing from school, and after a short stay in Florida, returning home.
Thinking of this I was reminded of Peter’s impetuous attempt at water-walking. He asked Jesus, and started out pretty confidently. It wasn’t until he took his eyes off Jesus and looked at the waves that he went down. What was that about? I believe it had a lot to do with focus and fear.
Fear is the iceberg that all too often sinks our ship. It’s not generally what we can see that immobilizes us. It’s everything underneath. The things that we can’t see. The things we don’t know. The things we can’t control because we don’t know what they are.
I guess Annie got her fear of murky water quite honestly—from her mother. Nelson and I traveled to South Carolina after we married to visit my grandparents. On our way back we tent camped at Myrtle Beach. Nelson bought a two-person inflatable raft. Since he knew that I was afraid of creatures that could be lurking in the murky, he would pull me out from shore and while I drifted back in he would swim about. The system was working great until a current caught the raft and I started heading for Miami. I was panicked. Nelson had swum so far out that he couldn’t hear my yells for help. When he finally realized what was happening, he swam as fast as he could to save me. As he arrived at the raft his feet hit the bottom. He stood up in ankle deep water. The raft was over a sandbar. We still laugh about how silly I looked and how irrational my fear was.
Perhaps that is why Paul was so clear in his teaching that as believers we walk by faith and not by sight. Life gets murky. The waves rise around us. If we don’t keep our eyes fixed on Jesus, we’ll go under as easily as Peter did—even if we are only in ankle deep water.
What are you looking at when you are frozen by your fears? It obviously isn’t Jesus. So many of the stories about Jesus’ encounters were with average people addressing enormous fears and receiving unbelievable miracles.
What are you afraid of right now? Are you walking by faith or struggling with holding onto to what you can see? If you’re going to get out of the boat, keep your eyes on Jesus. If the water is murky and you can’t see what’s there, focus on what you can see and do know: God so loved, he gave us Jesus!
My daughter thought she wanted to be a marine biologist. When it came time for college, she chose a school with a great marine biology program in Florida. For all her excitement, you would have thought we birthed and raised the next Jacques Cousteau. The excitement quickly faded during her Intro to Marine Biology course. The professor took the class to a lagoon to “get their feet wet.” Annie froze—literally. Tearfully and woefully, she returned to shore unable to complete the assignment. The reason for her freezing: she couldn’t see the bottom and the fear of what she could not see totally immobilized her. She ended up dropping the course, withdrawing from school, and after a short stay in Florida, returning home.
Thinking of this I was reminded of Peter’s impetuous attempt at water-walking. He asked Jesus, and started out pretty confidently. It wasn’t until he took his eyes off Jesus and looked at the waves that he went down. What was that about? I believe it had a lot to do with focus and fear.
Fear is the iceberg that all too often sinks our ship. It’s not generally what we can see that immobilizes us. It’s everything underneath. The things that we can’t see. The things we don’t know. The things we can’t control because we don’t know what they are.
I guess Annie got her fear of murky water quite honestly—from her mother. Nelson and I traveled to South Carolina after we married to visit my grandparents. On our way back we tent camped at Myrtle Beach. Nelson bought a two-person inflatable raft. Since he knew that I was afraid of creatures that could be lurking in the murky, he would pull me out from shore and while I drifted back in he would swim about. The system was working great until a current caught the raft and I started heading for Miami. I was panicked. Nelson had swum so far out that he couldn’t hear my yells for help. When he finally realized what was happening, he swam as fast as he could to save me. As he arrived at the raft his feet hit the bottom. He stood up in ankle deep water. The raft was over a sandbar. We still laugh about how silly I looked and how irrational my fear was.
Perhaps that is why Paul was so clear in his teaching that as believers we walk by faith and not by sight. Life gets murky. The waves rise around us. If we don’t keep our eyes fixed on Jesus, we’ll go under as easily as Peter did—even if we are only in ankle deep water.
What are you looking at when you are frozen by your fears? It obviously isn’t Jesus. So many of the stories about Jesus’ encounters were with average people addressing enormous fears and receiving unbelievable miracles.
What are you afraid of right now? Are you walking by faith or struggling with holding onto to what you can see? If you’re going to get out of the boat, keep your eyes on Jesus. If the water is murky and you can’t see what’s there, focus on what you can see and do know: God so loved, he gave us Jesus!
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