Visual Barrage

So I was driving the same old boring route to the grocery store. Surrounded by tail lights and horns and barely missed bumpers. Something caught the corner of my eye, though. There! Off to the right! An enormous bird was flying away from the stream and stand of trees. It was a blue heron. It's "s" shaped neck tucked back, it's long legs streaming behind. It was beautiful and graceful. As I was savoring the moment of this flight brought to my eyes, I needed to come back to the traffic, lest I bump into someone who wouldn't appreciate my, well, appreciation of nature at that moment. The light turned red and I scanned the skies looking for the majestic outline, but instead I saw a huge jet making its approach to Philadelphia. It comes this way every day about the same time, so that in itself wasn't surprising. But the juxtaposition of the natural and man-made wonder of these two behemoths was stunning. I mean, I was uplifted for just a few moments. In awe of the bird taking flight and the mechanical bird crossing paths. And I was suddenly filled with gratefulness to have witnessed both things in almost the same breath. How awesome is our God and the world around us!

Pay Attention!

The reading from Sunday in 1 Samuel is interesting. I'm not going to dissect the whole reading, especially, the interaction between whether Samuel should tell Eli what the LORD said verbatim (I'm much more meek than Samuel, I probably would have edited it somewhat, saying the LORD was not too happy about your sons--something soft-pedaled). But simply this line in verse 10: Now the LORD came and stood there, calling as before, “Samuel! Samuel!” And Samuel said, “Speak, for your servant is listening.”

Now Samuel had been called twice before. Having no previous idea of visions, or prophetic voices or anything else remotely powerful, he went to Eli and asked what he wanted. Eli, getting--finally--the meaning of what was taking place, tells Samuel the next time he hears the voice to answer as he did. Suppose, just for the sake of argument, that instead of Samuel you had heard your name. Three times, in the dead of night. And improbably, the Lord stood there (I just can't this image out of my mind, this amorphous, glowing being standing before Samuel). If you're a mom, you don't have to imagine that--I mean about the hearing your name in the night, not the glowing being-thing. It's probably happened a few times. But for the record, the voice was probably not your child's voice that Samuel was hearing. It was an insistent voice, this one that Samuel hears. I picture it being somewhat commanding, as Samuel believes it's his mentor Eli calling him. Commanding as in, "Come and follow." With authority as in, "come out of him". Not shy, as in "Lazarus, come out." It was a voice that one with hearing aids knows they would hear even if the batteries were two weeks old. Or better yet, if the things weren't even in the ears! A voice of one with authority calling your name.

I have longed for that voice. But I fear it as well. I do not want to be told to go to Zimbabwe (is that still a country?). I don't want to be told I need to go to Camden. I don't want to be asked to carry the load for those who cannot carry it themselves. I am most fearfully afraid. For if the voice calls me, I will be compelled with the same sense of purpose that was given me when I held my first born. This is a responsibility I cannot pretend I don't have. This is something I cannot ignore or give to someone else. So I think I will pretend that the voice is calling for someone else. Or I might think, it can't mean me, it must be the echo for someone else called, I just happened to be in area.

Have you heard the voice? The hymn we sang Sunday says, "Here I am Lord, is it I, Lord?" It makes me choke up every time, because I want to hear the voice, but I'm afraid that if I do, I'll be asked to do something I don't want to do. Not that I'm not equipped to do, as I don't believe God asks people to do things they cannot. But simply that I won't want to do it. But if asked, as Samuel was, will I reply that the servant is listening? Or will I say, sorry the batteries have gone dead and try back tomorrow? I don't know. Have you struggled with this? Have wondered if you have heard him calling in the night? I pray that you and I when we hear that voice, can reply, "your servant is listening."

Silent Night

Were you there at church last night? Did you see how pretty the church looked with the decorations and the candles? And the music! Oh, it was lovely. The service was all printed out in the bulletin, so you didn't have to fumble around with the hymnals. The choir was beautiful. Everything, (especially the sermon!) was just the right note.

And I'm thinking, too, of the birth of Jesus. Of course I am, it's the "reason for the season" as the bumper sticker points out. But the coming of something so profound, so hard to believe that it just has to be true. That God would love us so much...it staggers the mind...or at least my mind. That the humble beginnings of so great an event pulls you away from the clang and clatter of the TV and the i Pad and the iPhone and remind us once again that there are somethings more important than the wrapping paper and bows. The pivot point of the history of the world. The coming of God down to earth--Emmanuel--I am so humbled and awe filled. Like the shepherds with the sheep and the scary angels lighting up the sky.

I hope you joined us for Christmas this year, but if you didn't, that's okay, we'll catch you at Epiphany.

The Season

I love songs at Christmas. Not just the hymns, but all the hokey, smarmy, cliche ridden songs I can listen to--especially now. I know lots of lyrics for those songs and many in my family probably wish I didn't as I belt them out in my best out-of-tune voice whenever I hear them. I'm one of those people who love to sing, but people don't love to hear it, you get the idea.

Anyway, the one lyric that is sticking in my head today is from the Christmas Waltz, the version I'm thinking of is one that Frank Sinatra recorded. The line is this: "It's that time of year, when the world falls in love..." And it makes me smile. We are sometimes foolishly convinced that our fellow man is more generous, more gentle, more humane at this time of year than any other. I really don't know the statistics of whether this is true or not. But I don't care. I smile more and more people smile back, so let me have my illusions. I fall in love this time of year, too. Because I believe that Jesus is coming, not as the child in the manger, but as my Savior. He's coming to all of us. And his arms are open and welcoming. He doesn't need this time of year to love us, he does that all year. God isn't partial I'm sure to evergreens and pretty candles. And I fall in love with the idea that someone loves me no matter what I have done in the past or will do in the future. This song reminds me of that love...or maybe I can just hear it better in this season.

So Merry Christmas, happy Advent and Joyous Noel to you and yours.

Who is Your Brother or Sister For That Matter?

One of the things that is either easy to understand or almost impossible is the way Jesus speaks of family. It's easy sometimes, when you love your family and like to be together with them to hear Jesus say that we are all God's children. But, when you aren't particularly happy with your family, or squabbling with your siblings or aunts or uncles or even cousins, you don't want to remember that Jesus reminded you that you are one of many of God's children. At times like that, you'd like to think that the tee shirt with the saying on it, "Jesus Loves You, But I'm His Favorite", is really true.

But the other thing to remember is this: the brotherhood or sisterhood of humans means we are all related in some way. The person sitting next to you on the train or bus, the hundreds of people passing you on the street in the city or in the mall, they are all your brothers and sisters as well. And remembering that is harder than forgiving Aunt Lily for spilling gravy on your grandmothers tablecloth! Because there are seven million people in this world now. Seven million. It's a number I can't even fathom with regards to people. I get antsy in crowds of 50 or more. I can't remember the birthdays and anniversaries of the people in my biological family. I'm doomed with all these others! Now because there are so many people in this world, we'd like to think that Jesus, in his small town mentality, was saying that loving your neighbor meant just the immediate few in the region. You know, take in the papers for the neighbors when they are away. Maybe feed their pet while they are on vacation. At least wave and say hi when you see them. But I have a feeling Jesus meant more than that. And I'm pretty sure he didn't mean just love the people who look like you. Or act like you. Or even think like you. If that were the case, he would have had probably about 5 Pharisee and/or Sadducee following him around and he probably would have lived a lot longer.

Our sisters and brothers of this crowded sphere are everywhere. And loving them means helping them to find fresh water, get free of diseases like malaria or AIDS, live in a place where there is shelter and safety. We may not personally have the means or the ability to travel to places to make sure this happens, but we do have the means and ability to pray for these things to happen. And when we can, we can give to something as large as Lutheran World Relief or as small as the guy on the street looking for a handout.

So let's look out for our family in the days ahead. Not just our biological one (although that is important), and not just our neighbors in the block (although, that is important, too). Let's look at the family of brothers and sisters in Christ and pray for them, care for them, remember them. 'Cause we all have the same Dad.

Devotionals or Something Like Them

So everyday I have at least two, count 'em, two devotionals delivered to my inbox of my personal e-mail. Although one has different authors each week or even sometimes daily, the other has a wonderful gentleman whose thoughtful writings make me smile and sometimes shudder in shame as I recognize myself. Both are usually opened by me in the middle of the morning while at work. I do not work in a church, so there could be a reason for someone to grumble about me taking the 5 to 8 minutes it takes to read these, but technically I have two fifteen minute breaks a day, so I consider this to be one of them. I love the way the author's words reach out to me each in their own ways. I almost always can either agree or understand the point of view of those writings as well. It makes me feel like I'm part of the community even when I'm not in the building.

I have a devotional booklet in the bathroom upstairs as well. I read that well, never mind when I read that. Suffice it to say I find time almost every day to read it and ponder the author's point of view. It reminds me that there are many ways to look at scripture and the Christian life and not all of those ways are the same. Again it reminds me that I am in community with Christians all around the world. The basic premise of Jesus Christ as savior is the underlying brickwork to their walls of prose. And I feel a certain smugness to be allowed to walk the hallways of their minds with them.

So, what I want to know is this: what do you do each day to bring the word to you? What do you do each day to remind you that even if you aren't in the church building you are part of the church community? How did you spread the Word today? I'm just asking...

The Meaning of the Date

This weekend is an emotional one for many Americans. With good reason. And sometimes, when emotions are involved, it's hard to see things any other way than with, well, your emotions. The beauty of a life lived in the Lord is that you are given grace over and above what you deserve. And that grace just spills out to everyone. God did not put qualifiers on who gets to receive this gift. The Almighty didn't dole it out in small packages to a select few, so they could hoard it amongst themselves. This gift freely given was to be given, so that it could spread out from person to person, tribe to tribe, race to race, nation to nation. God's love is too big to keep to yourself. And God wants us to spread it around everywhere. Not just in our little corner of New Jersey, or the East coast or even the United States. And in this time of remembrance, we need to spread it around some more. To give freely of the love given freely to us. We need to remember not just those who died, but those who were left behind. Those who gave up their lives and those who still live them. Those who walked the ash-covered canyons and those who just saw the pictures and were horrified but essentially untouched. Everyone is touched by someone. And sharing the love of God is our imperative with each someone we meet. No matter who they are and where they have come from.

It is an emotional weekend, true. But it can also be one that is filled with grace and love if we open our hearts to these things and share them.