The Busyness of Life

I've noticed something lately. We're all very busy. Of course, you've noticed this yourself I'm sure. And it's not a recent development either. We've been busy for some time now. We're running here and there, checking our phones for messages or emails, driving at breakneck speed to get to the store, the gym, soccer practice, little league, piano lessons and don't forget to pick up the card for Mother's Day in between. Busy, busy, busy. It never stops really unless you force the time to stop. Okay, you can't really force time to stop, but you can decide where you will slow down and use the time you have in the ways in which are important to you.

I had decided quite some time ago that Sunday would be the day to stop and slow down for me. I like to go to church and visit my friends there. I like to go to Sunday School for adults and have conversation about things that interest us. I like to come home and leisurely read the paper (including the comics!) with a cup of coffee. I sometimes visit my mother or my daughter. It is my day of rest. Some of us don't have that luxury. Some of us work on the weekends. And too many of us decide that a "day of rest" is antiquated and quaint. But to you I say, everyone needs some time to stop and smell the dandelions. Everyone needs time to sit and stare out the window at nothing in particular with no particular place to go. It doesn't matter if you use this time to meditate or speak with God. It matters that you stop. Because use of quiet, placid time is important for your well-being. Having some "down" time means you pay attention to the things in life that really matter, like the fact that there are dandelions to smell, or a breeze to feel, or white puffy clouds to watch. It means being "present" in the moment and not planning for the future. It means being still and open to the world which is so sumptuously laid out for you.

Try and take some time this week for just sitting still and being. Not plotting and planning for the next moment to come. Just sitting still and being there.

And if you meet God there, well, all the better!

After Easter

It's easy to believe in God after Easter. When the sun is shining and the tulips are open and the air is sweet with the smell of Spring. It almost feels like heaven on earth! The problem comes when the sun isn't shining. When there aren't any flowers. When the world around seems dark and dangerous. I think it might be human nature to fold into yourself then. My mother called it, "circling the wagons", when you protect yourself and pull into yourself and hide. No one gets in when you do that.

But, God is so much bigger than the dark days. Opening yourself up to the One who loves you more than you can imagine, can give you a better sense of peace than relying on yourself. Yes, the world can be a scary and sometimes dangerous place. But it also a place where God's people dwell. Where fellow human beings lift you up, sometimes even carry you over those rough places. Being a Christian means that there is a community to support you, to welcome you, to listen to you when the rest of the world seems to have "circled the wagons" against you!

There's nothing wrong with watching the television news to find things out, but remember to tune into the Good News as well, to hear about the enduring love and grace given to us as a gift from God. And when you can again see the flowers, feel the sun on your head like benevolent hands, and hear the birdsong, remember The Lord of all is with you ALL the time. And that is something to believe in.

Good? Friday

Good Friday is really annoying. It’s annoying because, well, for one thing, we usually like Fridays. They come at the end of a work week. Sometimes it’s even a payday! Fridays are a time to relax a little before the to-do list is tackled on Saturday. Fridays usually are good. Except this one. This one is definitely bad. And not only was it bad, it was bad for everyone involved. It was bad for Pilate who didn’t want to be bothered, it was bad for Peter who denied Jesus not once, mind you, but three times. It was really bad for the disciples who ran and hid so they wouldn’t be arrested either. Of course, it was really, really bad for Jesus. The ultimate worst day of his life. I mean it ended with him dying. It just couldn’t get any worse. And, if I may belabor a point here, Good Friday is annoying because we have to relive it every year. Every year we hear the verses that tell us how everyone fell short of understanding who Jesus was. EVERY YEAR! It’s not like once in a while we hear something different to, you know, change it up a little. Nope. Every year it’s the same bad news. Depressing story, depressing ending, annoying Pilate and Sanhedrin. Just sad, the whole thing.

And then, and then…I have to stop whining. I have to be “re-tuned” to hear what it is about, this sad, depressing, downer of litany about what happened 2000 plus years ago. Because there was a reason for what happened. It wasn’t just some story passed down to scare us and make us feel depressed every year. There is a reason for this.

I am a sinful person. Lest you feel smug, excuse me, but so are you. We are both saint and sinner as Brother Luther pointed out hundreds of times. I really don’t deserve to be forgiven all the stuff I do or even don’t do. I walk away from responsibilities. I walk away from people I love when I don’t want to hear them. I practically run away from God some days. And when I finally get to Sunday, I usually stop, turn and look up at the cross. That somber symbol of the day. It’s there before me, accusatory and yet not. Making me face who I am, yet still shadowing me, cloaking me, covering me.  Bringing me back to the God I profess to love. I remember that Jesus had a choice, too.  He didn’t have to go to the cross for us. He even asked God to get out of it—just like I do! But he didn’t get out of it, he didn’t walk away, he didn’t take the easy way out. He interposed himself for us. Big word, interposed. In this case it means: to place between two people or things. He placed himself between God and man or woman or child or whatever pronoun you want to use. He put himself between God and us, so that God would see not just the ugly stuff, but the good stuff, too. Jesus put himself there on purpose. Not because we deserve it, but because, well, because he sought us out. He took on our sins in this horrible drama that gets played out so death can’t have the final word. We are saved by Jesus’ blood. I should be more joyful in light of this. More vocal in my praise. I have been saved by Jesus’ blood.

Instead, I wander around like I’m the captain of my own ship, answerable to me and me only. In my own private and personal thoughts, I’m good enough, so what’s the problem? I need to be reminded of the cross, really not once a year, but every single day! God loves me every single day. How can that be? I don’t seem to be particularly lovable in my actions, my thoughts and deeds. That love that binds me to him through that sorrowful symbol of the cross is also a blessing. Thank God I’m loved! Through no actions or thoughts of my own. Thank God! Thank God.

This sad, depressing story of Good Friday is actually a story of love so big, that there is not really any way to measure it, to quantify it, to even grasp it. It’s just too all encompassing. Too magnanimous. Too amazing in its grace. So full of mercy and goodness, that we need only to think of today as Good Friday. Because it is good. And no walking or even running away from God can separate us from him.  Because of Jesus. Because of the love that is sealed with this cross, with his actions, with this love never ceasing.

Maybe Good Friday isn’t as annoying as I once thought.

Questions?

Our adult Sunday School class has been studying a book entitled: Lenten Journey: Beyond Question by Eric Burtness. It can actually be used as a day to day devotional guide if you wanted to, but as is my wont, I skip around as we discuss the topics and questions that come about. I think it's been a particularly good book to work though as the questions that Jesus asks, which is what the book dives into, aren't easy. They are complex questions that have complex answers--none of them "right or wrong". This may prove a problem for some. People like to have yes or no, black or white, do you  or don't you answers to questions posed. But how are you supposed to answer these: What are you looking for? Do you wish to be made well? or even Why do you doubt?

Oh sure, in the short term these questions can be answered. But in the long term, that's kind of different. What are you looking for? in the short term could be as simple as my glasses (have you looked on top of your head?). But in the "bigger picture", I'm not sure I know what the answer to that is. What am I looking for in life? In a Savior? In my community of faith? These questions have no concrete answer. They can be picked and pulled apart for years even without coming to a satisfying conclusion. The one that caught a couple of us last Sunday was, "Do you wish to be made well?" On the surface, it seems like kind of goofy question. Of course, I want to be made well! Who wouldn't? But when you get right down to it, sometimes we don't really want to be made well. Some people get an awful lot of mileage out of "being unwell" either physically or mentally. They seem to like not having certain responsibilities because of their illness. The response to this might include other questions like: Well, not right now, how about later? Or what will I have to do if I am?

The last one asked in the first paragraph is a real good question to get a discussion started. I can't wait until we talk about that one. Can you come out and join us when we do? It will probably be next Sunday or the next one, but which ever one it is, I hope you'll join us.

Lenten Thoughts

We have entered the season known in the church as Lent. It lasts from Ash Wednesday (this year the day before Valentine's Day) to Maundy Thursday which falls on March 28th. During this time we get together on Wednesday nights for food and worship. If you haven't joined us before, it would be a great time to do so as all of us get together at one time as opposed to two services.

In thinking about this time of Lent, sometimes people get kind of anxious or worried. When I was growing up, people used to struggle mightily with what they would "give up" for Lent. In our family, it was usually candy, as that was something we loved to indulge in, and would show our devotion by not having rotten teeth for a few weeks. But I have begun to evolve in my thinking about "Lenten discipline" and have decided instead to give in to things. No, not to candy (although I do still love it). Instead I have decided that giving in to Lent involves helping out with the Lenten plays we have as part of our worship. It involves teaching on Sunday mornings. It entails trying to think less of myself and more of others. I am not trumpeting my devotion, I'm simply saying that instead of that inward denial that seemed to be part of my Lenten season every year, I've decided that outward reaching and embracing could be more rewarding than anything I've done before.

How about you? What have you decided? Will you be giving up or giving in? It doesn't matter really what you decide to do, even if you decide not to do anything. The only real important thing to remember is that we are all joined together this season. Getting together for reflection, meditation and food, too! So I hope you will join us. And just in case, don't bring any candy. I might decide to give that up as well!

It happens every year

That's right, every year we, as a church family get together and figure out our finances for the upcoming year. In the process we talk about what has transpired during the past year. I guess every church does this and the Congregational Meeting as we have come to call it ranges from a Pastor's report to highlights from most of our committees. Some people would rather have their teeth pulled than come to this meeting. I understand, sort of. It's not exciting or usually uplifting or maybe even inspiring, except it really kind of is--and I'll tell you why.

The Church, not the Lutheran Church mind you, but the church as drawn and realized by the followers of Jesus, is over 2000 years old. It exists not to figure out the finances of its parishioners, although we do that. It exists because we follow the Christ. We are all part of something bigger than ourselves individually, bigger than our egos (which can be pretty big sometimes), bigger than numbers on a page--whether those numbers represent money, people or property. The church exists to be The Lord in the world, his hands and feet. We do this together whether we like the guy next to us or not, whether the weather is nice or not, whether we "feel" like it or not. Because we are all individuals who come together for this corner property, we are sharing a vision of the one began all those years ago. It can be exciting because we are working together to build something bigger than ourselves.

So stick around for the meeting if you can tomorrow. It may not be earth shaking or pew thumping, but I promise you, it will change the world if only by agreeing to meet at one service and be the hands and feet of God.

Reflections in a Christmas Ball

Standing in front of the Christmas tree on this New Year's Eve day, I am pondering what the new year will bring and what I've received from the previous year. Not the material things, the "other" things. Now lest you think I will get all sappy here, please keep in mind that I received a diagnosis of basal cell cancer that I wasn't too thrilled about!

Each year I am filled with a profound sense of the Lord's work, but I only seem to see it at the end of the year more clearly (I guess Paul, that great letter writer would be nodding his head, all that stuff about the mirror dimly). God's presence was there in the big things (our daughter's wedding) and the small--seeing a butterfly close up without it flying away. I felt Him when I visited our nephew's grave and longed for it when, on a rainy afternoon I thought no one cared.

The Christmas tree with its shiny ornaments and twinkling lights is a passing thing. Soon it will be time to take down the decorations, empty out the cookies tins, tuck away the outdoor lights and life will continue on as it has for years. But what do we take away from this past year? What can we say about the gifts The Lord has bestowed on us, not just for Christmas but all the year? What can we do to bring about the light in the dark places? This is I think what the New Year is about. Reflecting on what has taken place, sure. But thinking about the possibilities of the year coming up as well. Where will we be and what will we be doing?

Let's celebrate the New Year by being the light bringers! Let us share the hope that Jesus brings to all we meet, so that next New Year's Eve the light reflected on the Christmas balls on the tree will be the same light He shares with us each day.

Have a wonderful and safe New Year.