There's Something About St. Mark's

Visual Barrage

2012-01-19T13:46:00.000-08:00

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!

2012-01-15T10:25:00.000-08:00

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

2011-12-25T10:26:00.001-08:00

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

2011-12-05T14:19:00.000-08:00

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?

2011-11-02T13:55:00.001-07:00

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

2011-10-13T13:59:00.000-07:00

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

2011-09-09T19:59:00.001-07:00

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.

How Powerful the Sun (Son) Is!

2011-08-14T07:06:00.000-07:00

This is a rainy Sunday morning. It is flooding the streets and the gutters with alarming speed. As I sit and watch the rain come down in sheets, I thought about something. It was morning, the sky was dark and dreary, but I could still see the rain coming down. The sun above the clouds was still bright enough to let me know that the day had started, it had come up despite the rain. The sun is so powerful that even on such an overcast day, we can tell that it is daylight.

In our lives there are sunny and rainy days as far as our faith is concerned, too. There are days when the sunshine of the Lord's love breaks through the darkest corners of our hearts and we are renewed and refreshed. There are also days when the darkness of our thoughts and our faith feels like there is no such thing as God, no such love which surpasses all understanding. But you see the Son shines there too, if we let it. If we remember that Jesus in his lifetime experienced the darkest moments as well, but was resurrected into new life for us. He is the Son that comes through the clouds on our rainiest days. He is the light of the world on the days when we are convinced that there is no light to be had. How strong and powerful is our God. And how awesome! Will you allow some of God's love and light to fill you today, no matter what it looks like outside? Open your heart and mind to God and see what a truly beautiful day it is in the light!

Taking a Vacation

2011-07-30T17:48:00.000-07:00

I was away from home recently. I was with family and it was a good thing. A restful, albeit, hot and humid thing. One of the practices that I do when I'm away is to bring one of my devotional books and read in the early morning hours before everyone is going every which way. But this year, I forgot to bring a book! It's the first time that I didn't have something to read and think about each day. I could get my e-mail sporadically, so that daily devotional thing which pops up in my inbox, didn't get to me either.

And so I got lazy. I didn't sit and ponder and pray first thing in the morning as I usually do. I have my phone set for a specific time to ring every day to remind me to pray with my prayer partner. But I found myself, hitting the phone reminder off and continuing to do the things I normally do, without stopping to pray or even meditate. And you know what? The world didn't end. People didn't suddenly vanish from the earth because of my lack of discipline. But I did find something out. When my day is not bracketed by prayer, it feels like I left something out. It seems to be unfinished. I almost always fell into bed tired from the days activities, but it was like I forgot to say "good night" to my children when they were small. The days didn't feel completed. It didn't occur to me until the next to last night we were away, that the reason for my dis-ease was because I hadn't listened to the Lord. And I hadn't talked to him either. About anything. No, I take that back. I did a hundred small thank yous within the week for the blue sky, the warm sand, the cooling water, the laughter of family. But I didn't do the protracted prayer I usually do. I didn't intercede for anyone or anything. I was totally selfish.

In earlier days, I would have come home and beat myself up for this lack of discipline. But I'm cutting myself some slack this time. God is aware of my shortcoming and my strengths. God is abundantly aware of my frailties and my humble gifts. He is not going to strike anything or anyone down because I let him down in my practices of prayer. I think he missed me. I know I missed him.

So I'm home now. My alarm on my phone went off to remind me to pray with my partner today and I did indeed say a quick prayer, thanking God for his gracious goodness in my life and blessing me and my family. Then I picked up a book and began to read the next chapter, knowing that I'll return to the discipline of my former vacation days on Monday. Thank God we have a savior who understands and doesn't take a vacation.

Ambivelance Amplified

2011-07-11T16:45:00.000-07:00

Ambivalence means a conflict of interest or attitudes. I can be ambivalent about any number of things on a given day: what I am wearing, how my hair looks or what to have for dinner. Most of the time I am sure and steady in what I believe, not too much ambivalence for me; in my faith life or my heart of hearts in regards to the Lord. But as of today, well, I'm afraid I'm stuck between two thoughts and not sure which way to turn. I believe that God is with me, wherever I go, wherever I am, God is with me. And I believe he loves the human race for all its faults--unconditionally loves us. But what happens when someone presents an idea so, well, wrong that it makes my head hurt to hear it. It goes against everything I feel in my heart I know of the great Almighty. Does this mean I could be wrong? Does this mean they are--because I feel I am right? Most of the time I'm willing to let people believe as they want to believe. Their path may not be my path, but I'm not God so who am I to judge. But when a bunch of someones spout a bunch of "stuff" which does nothing but pull people farther away from our Creator, and it just makes me mad. And then I hear Jesus' voice in the clamor, telling me that whoever is without sin cast the first stone. But if only the lunkheads are being heard, isn't it our place to tell them to sit down and shut up? But maybe I'm the lunkhead? No wonder I hear people say they don't want to come to church. Who knows what to believe? And how do you know whose voice to listen to? And don't come at me with that "still, small voice" thing either. That does NOT speak to a person with a hearing deficiency. So where are we then? Where do we go for guidance? You could of course, talk to an ordained person or read a really helpful book. You could also go to the Bible (speaking of helpful books), but the problem with the Bible is sometimes you really aren't sure what you're reading is what you think you're reading. There are layers upon layers in the Bible which is where these loud somebody's are supposedly getting their information these days.

So I think there is a solution to this. I think if we all really just stop shouting and posturing and sit quietly and pray, we'd feel more like we had a handle on things. More calm and collected about things. More comfortable with the "God is in his heaven and alls right with the world," kind of thing. So that's what I'm going to do, pray. And let God handle the details. He's doing a pretty good job so far I think. I'll just worry about what to have for dinner.

Winsome?

2011-06-20T14:31:00.000-07:00

I was reading from William Barclay today about the book of Acts. Before I get rolling, I would like to suggest that if ever you wanted to read some superb explanations of the New Testament, Barclay is your man! He brings about a clarity, at least for me that I don't have a lot of times.

Anyway, the passage he was writing about was Acts 2: 42-47, that marvelous passage which talks about the new church and how the newly hatched Christians were with one another and with everyone they met. The verses talk about their sharing, their giving, their camaraderie and their joyous participation in all of this. And it was then that I was struck with Barclay's explanation of the early Christians based on what verse 46 states. It says that the early church was a happy church. Barclay says the following, "Real Christianity is a lovely thing. There are so many people who are good, but with their goodness possess a streak of unlovely hardness. Struthers of Greenoch used to say that it would help the Church more than anything else if Christians ever and again would do a bonnie thing. In the early Church there was a winsomeness in God's people."

A "winsomeness" in God's people. Winsome means-according to the dictionary--charming, with an attractiveness of appearance or manner. What if more people wanted to be like Christians because of what they see when they see us in action? Wouldn't that be great? What if being a Christian in today's world meant more along the lines of "come join us in our attractiveness" than "don't bother, you're not good enough"? Too often Christians are so busy building fences, then we forget to erect ways to climb the fence. We are so busy making sure everything is right according to "the good book" that they forget that the book is for everyone, especially someone who has never heard it before. And that there might not be room for everyone, but it isn't for you and me to decide who fits where and when. I want that kind of Christianity. The kind that is-well-kind. And considerate and sharing and not so judgmental all the time and not so rules laden.

I want to be a winsome Christian. How about you?

I Will Be With You Always

2011-06-18T12:46:00.000-07:00

After I wrote the above title, I got a little squeamish. I don't mean I-personally-with be with you always, I was quoting from the reading for this week. This is Holy Trinity Sunday, a time to remember that the three in one is with all of us, for always. Sometimes it's hard to remember that fact. Sometimes you just want God to be there and the other two can go take a rest. Sometimes you feel the need to walk with Jesus and God needs to go into the other room while you just talk to him and unburden yourself. And sometimes the Holy Spirit is hovering around showing you stuff and you just can't believe that anything or anyone else could add to that! But the thing that is great to remember is that no matter whom you wish to communicate with,you get the whole package. You can't have one without the other. Like the old song says (except it was talking about Love and Marriage and we all know that isn't necessarily true!). So you get the package deal with the trinity. And that isn't a bad thing you know. Unleashing your guilt to Jesus will remind you that Jesus was human and understands. But God is right there as well, listening and having compassion just as he had with his son. And the Holy Spirit is right there too, with whispering mists of grace and light, so you won't feel abandoned. And if you feel as though the Spirit is guiding you and uplifting you, you know that Jesus is just as delighted as you are and that God is happy to see you enjoying it as well.

A package deal. For always. You just can't get that anywhere else nowadays. No guarantees for anything anymore. Except God. And Jesus and the Holy Spirit. They'll always be around. Always. Thank goodness.

The Choice Every Day

2011-06-07T14:12:00.001-07:00

I read something recently that struck a chord with me. It was in one of the blogs I read and in it, the author quoted a friend who said this, "You have a choice every morning when you wake up. That's a gift." She was talking about attitude here. The attitude you have when you get up in the morning, before your coffee. The way you approach your day has a lot to do with the way the day will go, it seems. I believe that the way we view each day, whether we have God present or not, makes or breaks the day as well. On the days that I have no time to myself and I'm running hither and yon trying to fix something, finish something or finesse something and haven't once stopped to either ask God to be with me or help me, is a day where nothing seems to go right. I'm spinning my wheels all day and I'm going no where. BUT, on those days that God and I talk first thing in the morning and ask for guidance and help throughout the day, well, those are the good days. Not that everything goes wrong on the days I don't have God in mind or everything goes right on the days I do. But my attitude about the things that do happen is very different.

And so I propose an idea. Suppose we try, for just a week or so to make the choice every day to being with a bowl of cereal and God (or an egg or a glass of juice or whatever your morning break of fast is) before the day starts. And we decide that the day will be interspersed with asking for correction, guidance and just plain love and that we end the day thanking God for those moments that we felt the Almighty's presence. I think it's an experiment that has merit and sometimes these things develop into habits, too!

I want to leave this with one other quote, from that same page, from that same author. She had been shot and is finally getting herself back together and the woman who was writing to her, telling her to keep up her spirits said this, "The sun came up this morning and I am here to see it. By definition, it's a good day."

Amen to that.

To Denny

2011-05-19T13:55:00.000-07:00

People come and go in our lives all the time. Some people spend a lot of time in our face and we wish they didn't. Some people spend very little time with us and it never feels like it's enough. There are people who are blessings without so much as a religious icon in their vicinity. They are spiritual beings, they bring light and smiles. They bring soft comfort and warm companionship. They bring a feeling of peace and understanding. They don't say the benediction out loud, but whisper it in your ear through their words of encouragement and thoughtfulness. And when they leave us, we are grateful that we knew them and feel privileged to have been part of their circle. They don't necessarily profess to be Christians or Muslims or Jews. But their profound example of love shared with others is all you need to be aware of their spirituality, their connection with something bigger than them or you. It is always, always a pleasure to be with them and you walk away saying to yourself, I want to be more like that.

The biggest problem with knowing someone like this, is that usually you think there is plenty of time to tell them how special they are, how nice it is to be with them, how grateful you are for their presence. And then they are gone and you never did get to tell them. And so not only do you mourn the loss of this person, you mourn the missed chance to make sure they knew just how good they were, how important they were to others and how much you will miss seeing them.

The Road to...

2011-05-09T05:41:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite bible passages is the one that we read this past Sunday. I refer to it as "The Road to Emmaus". My mother has a painting, large in scale, of this scene from the bible--Jesus is explaining things to the weary travelers. I'm of two minds with this story. I love the fact that Jesus comes and explains himself and his ministry to these two, citing historical references with which they can understand and relate. But he also encourages them along the way to explain what they have seen and what they understand, so that he can help them to understand and comprehend what has taken place. Perhaps I am hoping secretly that Jesus will come and find me on my road and explain things that I'm a little murky on. Perhaps I'm hoping Jesus will come and simply walk beside me (which I know he does anyway), but opening my eyes to the things I question and doubt. So I really love the story for that reason. But the other "mind" wonders about the story. Why doesn't he reveal himself earlier? All kinds of thoughts abound about this...they needed to understand what took place that first Easter and they wouldn't have been able to listen if they were in awe of the messenger. They perhaps needed the historical references for future need as the church began to form and begin. I guess I'll never know the real reason he didn't just say, "Ta Da!" and stretch out his hands. But it's one of those things I wonder about nonetheless.

I liked what our pastor said about Jesus revealing himself in the breaking of the bread. That he is revealed whenever we break bread together, sometimes not just in the eating of a meal, but the gathering together of God's people and the sharing of the word. Perhaps that's the real story behind the Road to Emmaus. It's the revealing of Jesus to the two travelers and to us what God's love is really about. It's good to hear that on the dusty, dirty road to wherever we happen to being going.

Jesus Loves Me, This I Know

2011-04-21T05:02:00.000-07:00

I have a practice each year beginning Holy Week. I start to play Jesus Christ Superstar on whatever device I am using, wherever I am using it. In the car it's the CD player. In the kitchen it's another CD player. Upstairs, I'll put on the movie version and simply listen to the music while going about my chores. Sometimes, like this year, the music sounds a little dated, a little old. But the message is always the same and it helps me to focus my thoughts on this week as nothing else does.

I told someone this once, about this practice. They smiled condescendingly at me and proceeded to inform my poor lost self all the reasons why using this musical as a focal point was not a good idea. I listened politely and left them to their opinions. I am a firm believer that whatever you need to do to bring God into your world, short of human sacrifice is probably okay. I know that's a sweeping statement and many would not agree with me. But c'mon, if you need to be reminded that Christ is indeed in your life and you aren't too sure about it, isn't something better than nothing? I don't sit and read the bible every day, but I have daily devotions sent to my e-mail so that whenever I turn on the computer, those thoughts can reach me. I may not get down on my knees each morning or evening, but the simple prayer that Jesus Loves Me, this I know, follows my heart and mind whenever I happen to think of it. Am I the most pious or religious of followers? Nope. But my belief is sincere and I'm doing the best I can each day to remember to thank God for his many blessings and ask God to be with me.

And I do this without the singing. Which is probably a very good thing. So what do you do?

Now and Then

2011-04-17T07:19:00.000-07:00

I was struck by something this morning during the readings of Palm Sunday and the Passion. I was moved, as I almost always am, by the events surrounding this depiction of the last week of Jesus' life. How could this happen, I wondered once again. How could the people who knew him, loved him, watched him heal and bring back from the dead, how could THESE people just stand by and watch the events unfold and not do anything. The gentleman in front of me, during the sharing of the peace, said how moving the story was. And we discussed how this could have happened.

And then I thought, but that's just it! It happened and could still happen today. People aren't really all that different from the people of Jesus' time. We still fear those things we don't understand. We still struggle to believe in a world that both shows us the miracles and shows us the mundane. We deny the existence of the Almighty while marveling at the beautiful spring flowers adorning our neighbors lawn. We fight against believing that a Supreme Being could possibly love us so much that he would torture his only son in an effort to MAKE SURE we understood the depth of that love. We are the same people all over again. And yet, God loves us still. The mystery of that love, that eternal grace is so beyond my comprehension that even now writing about it, I'm confounded. I look for something which would cast those persons of the past in such a light as to show me that I'm better, more evolved. But I'm not. You aren't either. None of us are. Which is why the Passion is still the Passion. The passionate love of a God for the people of his heart. I can't understand it, but I'm am thankful for it. And hope one day to be able to grasp the hand of the savior who died for us and say, Amen.

Now What Happens?

2011-04-05T13:33:00.000-07:00

I have been reading a lot of devotionals lately because I decided to devote myself during Lent. HA! I liked the way that sounded, but it does have a ring of truth about it. I found recently that I felt farther away from God than I had for quite some time and knew my heavenly father hadn't moved, but I had. So I wanted to get in touch with him a little more intensely during the Lenten season. My mother, getting into the spirit of things (so to speak) sent me a small devotional booklet entitled, The Sanctuary for Lent. I started re-reading, Walking on Water by Madeline L'Engle, one of my very favorite books. I am receiving daily devotional writings from the Lutheran Seminary in Philadelphia. And a friend of mine is sending out prayers that are inspirational and seem divinely inspired.

So, guess what? I'm not feeling any closer, more spiritual, or heavenly than I was before. Maybe it's because I have a cold. My head is clogged and my nose is running and I'm sure I'm not a very nice person to be around (I'm a terrible patient!). But I really can't blame this not feeling closer to God on anybody but myself, really. And no, I don't really think it's because I have a cold. You see, so many times I expect the "Shazam!" moment to arrive and when it doesn't I'm sort of miffed. What do I mean by the Shazam moment? The Saul conversion moment? The veil is lifted and I am stunned and amazed by...? And that is the problem. Something BIG.

Instead, I have become aware of a series of really great things in the past few weeks. I was away while the rest of my fellow workers were still slaving over a hot desk recently. My children are safe and healthy and comfortable (yes, I know they would like to be MORE comfortable). I have a wonderful husband who is considerate of my health and well-being (he even e-mails me to ask me how I'm feeling when I know he's busy at work). But I kept thinking that something BIG would happen with my spiritual life. Some great awakening I suppose. What I got instead were small steps, hardly even noticed. And that was when I had a real Shazam moment. For real! I have heard for years on end about God's still small voice. Except I'm partially deaf, and that analogy doesn't work for me. I was afraid he was whispering so low I missed it. Instead he showed me the wonders of my life right now. Not in winning the lottery, although I have to say, I wouldn't mind that. But he has put some pretty wondrous people and things in my way to take notice of lately and I've been so self absorbed in my pouting I almost missed them!

So in some ways, that's what happens. You go out looking for God and he's right beside you the whole time, showing you stuff. Poking your side and asking if you saw the daffodils, the birds, your children, your husband, your friends. And never once did he say, Shazam!

The Sun Within

2011-03-22T13:42:00.000-07:00

I heard a weather report that it is supposed to rain and snow tomorrow and the next day. No accumulation, really. Just the cold dampness that seeps into your bones as you watch the precipitation fall. I was hoping we were done with this kind of weather. It makes me feel weary and sad. It's hard to be positive when the weather beats up on you.

But recently I found a piece of sun to keep inside when the weather is bad outside. I was walking around a very special place, when I felt the warmth of the sun on my back. The ocean was in front of me and the birds were playing in the waves, calling and laughing to each other. The sound of the sea, the warmth of the sun, the blue of the sky, I was at peace for just a few minutes. It was there that I found a piece of the Son, too. That peace that passes all understanding was right there with me. So I'm trying to carry it around to spread it around. I see some people who look like they could use a little ray of sun or Son. So I try to share it with them. I'm not sure they all appreciate the effort, but I make the effort anyway. You never know when that sun may come back around and warm you up on a dreary, wintry March day.

Rain and Lent

2011-03-21T07:34:00.000-07:00

Somehow or other, Lent seems a somber time. I'm not saying that there isn't reason for this. If you read all the historical accounts of Lent and it's formation, you'd know that we actually have it pretty good during Lent in this century. It's a time of reflection and personal introspection.

It's raining today and usually during rainy days I'm in work, concentrating on the things I have to do there. But today by quirky chance I am home and futzing with things around the house. I found myself filling the time instead of taking time for that reflection and introspection that we need to do from time to time. And so I stopped amidst the vacuuming and washing of clothes, plopped myself down on the couch and reflected. Of course, when you want to take the time to do that, you can never actually do it. Your mind races as to what you were supposed to be serenely thinking about, or it races ahead to what you will do when you are done reflecting. And then you wonder how long you should be stopped. And is that "enough" time. Because we are so used to working on a schedule, we figure the scheduling of communicating with God should be a finite thing as well. I'll think about God for 15 minutes on Thursday--that kind of thing. The problem with that of course is that come the 15 minutes you've set aside you're so preoccupied with what you wanted to communicate to the Almighty, you've forgotten that this kind of communion can be a two-way street and you've left no time for the Lord to talk to you in that still small voice of his. And so you're allotted time is fraught with worry about the things you need to "get in" without thinking about the possibilities of what you might "get out" of this time.

Recently I was away from home. My companions and I went to an outdoor garden one day. Within the garden there was a labyrinth. It was in a beautiful park-like setting, very peaceful and serene. About 20 feet away from the labyrinth was a sign which instructed those who were walking this peaceful, serene maze not to molest or feed the alligator. Now, I don't know about you, but while trying to concentrate on the maze I was walking, contemplate communion with God AND worry about whether an alligator would suddenly find itself inclined to climb the small bank and sun itself nearby, it was not the contemplative experience I would have hoped it to be.

However, on this same time away, I was privileged to go to the beach. The sun was warm, the same for the sand and the waves were gentle and passive. I looked out to the horizon and there, bobbing restfully was a pelican. I do not know why I love these birds so much, but their presence to me has always happened at a time when I needed to be reminded of God's wondrous gifts to me. And there it was. The moment was better than the labyrinth. God was with me (and yes, I know simultaneously he is with me always and was with my companions). But God was there with me in the sun and the sea and the pelican. And it was an affirmation that will last through Lent and whatever rainy, contemplative or stormy days are ahead.

God is with us.

Community of Faith

2011-02-23T20:30:00.000-08:00

The title above sounds very churchy, doesn't it? I mean you don't hear about the community of--I don't know--sneaker wearers do you? One of the problems about church sometimes is people are weirded out about the phrases we use, or sometimes even the words we use in certain contexts. Some people think it's like a club with its own special language--like learning elfish from Tolkien. But sometimes the words that the community of believers use are just good words to use. Stewardship is one of those words. To be a steward is to be a caretaker. What's wrong with that? To be a steward was a position of responsibility. It wasn't just a caretaker of goods, but people, too. A steward was responsible for making sure the help were fed and clothed and paid (or at least looked after with a roof over their head). I think we need to be reminded that we are stewards, not just of the church building, but of the people who come here.

How can we be better stewards of our church? Well, for one, we can pray for one another. Not just on Sunday mornings, but everyday. And pray not just for the people on the prayer list, but all the people who come in our doors, whether they are from one of the groups that use our building or the ladies who knit prayer shawls. We can remember to listen to each other when we do get together. Sometimes we are so anxious to share our stories and our thoughts we can't even hear that others are in need of being listened to more. We can help someone find a page in the hymnal, we can direct someone to the bathroom, we can simply say hi to someone who looks like they could use a smile. These are not big things. They do not cost you anything except maybe a few minutes. But they are outward signs of our caring. And we are a caring place. Let us share the stewardship of our God's love with all we encounter. Lent is a good time to try a new practice. Let's practice being good caregivers this year.

Let's let our light so shine before others that they can't help but see our good works!

The Snow on the Sidewalk

2011-01-26T13:06:00.000-08:00

It's snowing again. I'm a huge chicken when it comes to driving in the stuff, but I love the way it looks out the window, when I'm nice and warm in my house. It coats the roofs with white cottony drifts. It clings to trees and bushes, and the kids across the street are tramping through it with wild abandon.

I was thinking about my faith life today, as I watched the snow come down. I could make the analogy of God blanketing us with his love like the way the snow blankets the landscape. But I actually wasn't thinking that. What I was thinking is how we seem sometimes to want to cover up our flaws and humanity when we tell the world we are Christians. We cover up the heart in need of repair and the hopes that have become somewhat twisted like the branches of the trees outside the window. Why do we do that? I read a devotional which said that we thought as Christians we had to be strong. We had to show the world how morally upright, sound of body and spirit and well, holy we were; so that others would want to be like us. Except we aren't all that morally upright. At least I'm not. And my soundness of spirit is definitely lacking. Which is why its important to scrape away the stuff that covers our sin and our brokenness. We need to show others how it looks to be a Christian by looking at how much we need Jesus, not by how nice it looks. We need to chip away the veneer of self-supporting righteousness and show our vulnerability. Why else would we need a Savior if we weren't that good or strong to begin with? The answer of course, is that we wouldn't need one. But we do. And he is there, just like the snow covering us. Except he knows our flaws and failures and it doesn't matter, because he loves us anyway, thank goodness.

So when you're out shoveling later on, remember that yes, God's love does blanket us. And even though we're as uneven as the pavement we're shoveling, we're still beautiful in his sight. So share that uneven brokenness with others, so that they might see the light of Christ through you.

I Need Jesus to Walk With Me

2011-01-12T10:21:00.000-08:00

I was reading a devotional booklet the other day. I was looking for some answers to some really hard questions. The questions were raised after the Arizona shooting. The questions were not, "Why" nor, "How". The questions were not linear or even really put into words. But they were there in my mind anyway. There were more questions too, when I read that some folks were going to go to a funeral of a child and protest because they felt the shooting was a "sign" of something.

A sign of something.

Well, it probably was a sign of something. But I'm thinking the sign they're looking at doesn't have anything to do with a Savior of love. Or with a God of compassion and forgiveness either. Sometimes I believe the world has gone mad. And sometimes my faith is hard to grasp hold of and onto in the midst of these headlines. But I remember also, that I am not God. I do not know everything in all circumstances. I cannot fathom why such things happen, but I cannot fathom how snowflakes are all different or how the world was made either. Do the people who plan to protest know God so well, so intimately that they are sure what happened was "God" sent? How can you be THAT sure of God? And of humans for that matter? The devotional said this and it spoke to me, "...worshiping morality instead of Jesus is just idolatry. When I'm consumed with my moral performance and find myself obsessively evaluating the morality of others, I've become a believer in moralism, not the gospel."

I'm a believer of Jesus and I'd rather have him explain to me the things I don't understand when I meet him than have some rabble-rousing mob scream things at me when I need compassion and understanding in the here and now. I would wish that Jesus would be with that group of people who think they are doing the Lord's work and help them see that love is what the Lord is about, not judgment and condemnation which seems to be what they are about. I know that Jesus is with us, walking with us and keeping us in his heart, even if we don't have him in ours.

It's The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

2010-12-23T07:39:00.000-08:00

I'm a big fan of Christmas. Even the secular stuff. Okay, not all the secular stuff. The shop till you drop mentality is not me. But I like glitter and sparkle. I was a big fan as a kid making Christmas cards for my family of adding as much glitter as possible. It showed how much I loved them, right?

So now I'm a grown up. And the sparkle isn't quite what it used to be for me. I learned some new words growing up, garish, ostentatious, gaudy. They put a damper on my enthusiasm for sparkle and glitter. But there are still things I like to see shiny. I like jewelry. I like tinsel, even though my children insist that it isn't necessary to "finish" the look of the Christmas tree. And I like stars. I like to look up at night and see the velvet darkness studded with twinkling spots of lights. I confess, I do not think about how long it takes that light to get here or that it is some sun or planet that imploded years ago and will not be visible soon. I just like to see them shine. Especially on cold winter nights. It makes me think that there is warmth somewhere, looking down and reaching for us.

That first Christmas had the brightest light of all. I see it captured in paintings, drawings, cards, ornaments. What a wondrous thing that must have been to behold. Especially since there weren't any other lights to dim its radiance. No electricity yet. The dark night was positively, well, lit up by this star.

Aren't our lives sort of like that too? We travel in the darkness of our selfishness, our seeing of our lives without seeing others. We traipse down pathways, looking only at our feet, our situation, ourselves, without seeing that light that shines all around us. At Christmas, it's like we suddenly realize that the light is there. That there is something outside of ourselves, our cocoon of self. We see our brothers and sisters in a new illumination. We are reflected with the light of Christ's coming and it's bright enough to want to put on sunglasses, if we'd only really see it.

So join me this Christmas in your "shades" sharing the light of Jesus with each other. Make our light so shine before others, that they will wonder what our source of energy is and when they find out, they'll shine, too! Let's sparkle, glitter and glow together during this season. I brought my clip on's, how about you?

Hard Faith or Hardly Faith?

2010-12-01T09:35:00.000-08:00

In our journey down the road of life, if you are a person of belief you will encounter something that scares you. It will be something really awful or awe-filled. Something inspiring or terrifying. And you will find yourself looking at your faith and wondering. And the wondering can be scary in itself, especially if you find yourself questioning beliefs that you have grown up with, or things that you thought you knew until this big thing happened.

I have trusted in the Holy Spirit to be with me through all kinds of things. I find that I don't question whether the Spirit is with me, only whether it is in the foreground or the background and why it chooses to be either or. Many friends of mine, especially during tragic circumstances have asked, "Why" this happened. Maybe they just mean why now? Or even why me? I don't think I've wondered why so much as now what happens? And I really mean that when I say it. I don't look for the purpose or reason as I'm pretty sure if I have to ask why, then the reason probably wouldn't make sense to me at the moment. But the what happens next...that catches me. How will we deal with this event? How will this assimilate into our lives? Will this thing that has happened make us better followers? Better believers? More aware of the God who is with us? Too frequently, it happens that we shake our fists at the heavens and pronounce that if we can't understand it now, we'll never understand it, so don't even both to explain to me, thank you very much. There is some kind of trite comment that says whatever doesn't kill you will make you stronger. Eww. I suppose that could be something you follow as a mantra. But what about, "I will be with you always, even to the end of the age." That seems more comforting to me. Or what about, "He is our refuge and strength, a very present help in time of need." Yeah, I can get behind that one, too.

So when these big things happen, either glorifying or traumatizing, and your faith feels a little wobbly ask yourself what you believe. Not why, but what happens next. And look for the others who are with you, your brothers and sisters in faith. They are standing with you at that time, even if you can't see them. Just like the Holy Spirit.

Reflections on a Crooked Cross

2010-11-18T12:45:00.001-08:00

I was shopping the other day for a friend. It’s Christmas and I thought, since he has so many kinds of crosses to wear, that I would get him a new one. A different one. I went to a Pastor/Priest supply store. One that carries their outer garments, symbolic of their inner garments I suppose. Anyway, the salesman showed me several varieties. Some were plain, some were engraved with carvings of religious symbols. Some were crucifixes and even among them were depictions of exquisite agonies of the Lord or sublime serenity—he obviously knowing something we don’t. There were modern kinds, where the basic symbol of the cross was somewhat distorted and you weren’t really sure if this was a cross at all, but some amorphous blob of metal that a surrealist wanted you to believe was a cross. I didn’t but any of them. I left puzzled. I walked around the mall for a while after that and thought about what I had seen. The cross is a powerful image to me. For any Christian I imagine. Beside all that historical stuff, we know that the cross means saving to us. I never liked the crosses that I see so many times that are so perfectly straight and precise. My faith isn’t like that. But a cross that depicts the winding way of my belief isn’t true for me either. For the cross symbolizes the underpinnings of my life. I don’t like following something if I’m not sure where it goes. The cross always has the vertical with the horizontal crosspiece. I wanted to find a cross that showed that-- but differently, like my faith.

I actually did find the one I was looking for. The artist that fashioned it, pulled the metal somehow to make it appear beveled, but not even that. Guided somehow off the straight. It’s difficult to describe, but this cross spoke to me as a Christian. I am not always straight and true. My paths are usually pretty much along the straight and narrow. But life has a way of bringing along those not oh-so-straight bends and turns. And although my faith is true, like the cross of which I speak, it also bends and is slightly off. A true metaphor for my faith life. We are not all believers in the same way. There are nuances to our faith, shadings, shadows, life has molded us in ways that are unique to each individual. But the cross is behind all that believe, engraved, carved, or plain showing us that “God always comes down”, no matter what the shaped or size of the chain of life experiences we wear. So I bought the cross for him. I think he’ll like it. I wrote this down because even though I don’t own this cross, it will make me think of my faith every time I think of it. It is a cross of my faith, crooked, yet straight.

Matthew 16: 19

2010-10-30T18:46:00.000-07:00

”I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven…”

I want to talk to you today about keys. What are keys? What significance do keys have today in our “keyless” entry world?

I remember my father was a maintenance worker at one time for a company. He had a key ring jammed full of keys. I used to sit and look at them: keys worn almost smooth from so much use, keys that were grimy and dirty, keys that were brand new and the teeth on those were sharp. There were keys to the lunch room, the locker room, the myriads of doors my father encountered each and every day. He had a key for each of those locks. If he came to a door that he didn’t have a key specifically for, there was even a skeleton key, one that could unlock any door in the whole plant. It was a marvelous thing, his key chain. It jangled when he walked and reminded all who were near him that he could unlock their doors.

And so we come to Peter. Jesus told him he would be given the keys to the kingdom. What an awesome responsibility! Keys to the kingdom. And so also do I picture Peter in his sandals and robes with a VERY large key chain, one that thunderously jangles as he walks the heavens.

We’ve been given keys as well, although they probably don’t jingle when we walk. The keys to the kingdom, even. They are at our disposal night and day if we chose to see them. You see, the idea is that each of us can unlock something in someone with our talents, our abilities, our love, out attention and even sometimes, our anger. God has given us each a set of keys. What doors will you unlock with yours?

Are you willing to share your wealth of talents (your keys, if you will)? Are you able to share your time (another key element)? Can you spare your wealth, in whatever form it comes in? These are the keys of the kingdom and we all have them, no matter how mighty or meek, rich or poor, humble or even arrogant.

What will your keys unlock and how will you go about using them today. That is really the question, isn’t it. Not necessarily recognizing your keys but using what you have to open the door to Jesus’ kingdom.

Jesus for Me, too?

2010-10-11T17:53:00.000-07:00

What is it about the verses at the beginning of John 14 that linger and cause my eyes to blur? Why do I always get so choked up? Did someone use these verses at some funeral long ago and it haunts me?

I think the reason could be a little more deep than that. I have pondered those words for many years. Not hours at a time, granted. But each time I either hear them or read them myself, I have thought about what they mean. “Let not your heart be troubled…In my father’s house are many rooms. I go to prepare a place for you.” He meant the disciples. He was talking to them. But it has been interpreted as meaning a place for you and me, too. How could that be? How could there be room for me? Me? The reluctant writer. The foot dragging volunteer. The downright stubborn Christian. There cannot be room for me in my—our-- father’s house. There is no place prepared for me. I don’t deserve a place. I don’t even deserve a place at the dining table. But I’ve been told he accepts me there. I guess I’ve gotten over that part. But the dwelling place? Nope, don’t think so.

You see I am wishy-washy. I am not a bold believer. I go to church on Sundays. I enjoy a good ecumenical debate when I can get one. I’ll argue theology if you want a good argument. But I don’t get vehement. I don’t get in your face. If you want a fighting Christian, you’ve come to the wrong source. I don’t like conflict. I don’t like it when people don’t like me. So what kind of believer am I? Not a good follower, I’m sure.

There is a verse somewhere about Jesus saying that he spits out lukewarm faith. I imagine he has spit me out before and probably will again. But that isn’t what it says in other places in the bible. It doesn’t say he spits me out. It doesn’t say he hates me, or doesn’t care for my weakness or my failures. It states almost emphatically that I am loved no matter what. And I believe that part because to think otherwise is pretty scary stuff. I love God. I trust God more than I’ve ever trusted anyone or anything else. But don’t ask me to be the representative with the voice. The mouthpiece of reverberating fire and brimstone.

And so, I think I feel sad when I read these verses. Because I hope they apply to me and in my poor little not-very-brave heart, I’m very afraid they don’t. But I then have to remember, too, that there is a verse that gives me hope. And that verse says, “help my unbelief.” So maybe there is a place after all.

Deck Cleaning/Light Bringing

2010-09-20T13:42:00.000-07:00

I was cleaning out the gunk between the spaces on the bottom step of my deck on Saturday. Using a screwdriver, I would pop out large amounts of seeds, leaves, feathers, more seeds and occasionally a confused bunch of ants and other creepy crawlies. As a metaphor for church, I’d like to use this if you’ll permit the allusion.

In the great deck of life here on this earth, we are forever getting caught in the cracks. There are pitfalls aplenty for those who are looking as well as those poor, unsuspecting souls who aren’t even looking. We get mashed together in this small space of thinking about life and what it’s all about.

Every now and then someone comes along and pries us out of those spaces and “airs” us out. They give us something to think about that doesn’t fit into that small space. They say something so outrageous or original we are ejected into the light and wonder, “what happened?” If God is like that cosmic wielder of the large screwdriver, then it is indeed apt that he is the one to pry us out of that small space and gives us light, so that even the “creepy crawlies” of us, who don’t deserve the light, are exposed to it nonetheless.

I wonder sometimes if it bothers him that we seem to thrive so readily in those cracks and crevices without even trying to get into the light. When I exposed those ants they scurried madly to try and get back to that dark place they were in, because it was all they had known as their shelter and their refuge. But I like the light. My shelter and refuge should be out and about, above ground and above board.

Is that where your life is? Are you in the cracks and crevices, lumped up with all the drifted up spirits and half shredded seeds? Or are you the brave sowbug, who mightily climbs to the top of the stair tread to see what’s on the outside? Where does all that light comes from?

Can I give you a lift up?

The Conversation in Class

2010-08-30T14:32:00.001-07:00

I really don't know how the subject turned. We were talking about what the class discussed the week previously, then it somehow or other moved to talking about the gospel lesson and the subject turned yet again to miracles. I have trouble with miracles sometimes. When I was young, I thought of Jesus as a magician. Poof! There went some guy's blindness. Flash! Some lady was healed. And KAZAM! Lazarus came out of the tomb looking for lunch. It was like Jesus was a real live superhero, without the cape. As I grew older, I questioned lots of things. But the miracles of Jesus, not so much. It seemed wrong to question them, to think about them was okay, because they meant something. But the meaning was sometimes kind of garbled or not clear to me. But I didn't question them. I thought that was what faith was, unquestioning.

I'm older now. I still question lots of things. In the course of listening about miracles, I have heard explanations of them. How this could have happened. How that could have been. I still don't know if the people explaining them were trying to prove that Jesus really didn't do them, or if they were seeking to make Jesus less of a magician and more of a person with extra ordinary talents. But the conversation in class was interesting because someone posed the thought that if we can explain away miracles, then didn't we believe that Jesus was resurrected from the dead? That was a conversation killer for sure! Everyone stopped and looked at each other. Is that what it meant to question the miracles? That there could not have been an event that was truly miraculous? For a tiny second I wondered what would happen if I said I didn't believe in the resurrection. I felt my core faith quiver at the thought. It was scary. But it was just for a moment. Because I came back with the idea that miracles are no less miraculous just because someone could explain them. So what if the wine actually was in a mis-marked jar at the wedding? So what if the feeding of the 5000 happened because people shared their food? The surprise of the story is that it was a miracle, not that Jesus did it, but that God intervened in some way to show us something of his self. A particle of God was visible for that small second of divine something or other that happened. And he did it for us. All of us. Not just the wedding guests delighted that the "good stuff" was still available or the growling bellies of the gathered masses. God intervened showing that with God all things are possible from the sublime to the, well, miraculous!

Place Holders

2010-08-15T09:34:00.000-07:00

I was at a very busy restaurant recently with four other people. It was the kind of place that you put your order in, then go to a table and the waitstaff brings you your order. It was loud, jammed to the gills with people of all types and sizes and I wondered how we would ever find a place to sit (and hear each other in the din). I volunteered to be the one to find a spot for all five of us and hold the place until the orders were given and the rest would join me.

Because the line was long, I had time to find a good spot and sit and ponder things. It's funny when you have time to just sit and think, the things that come into your mind. I was thinking that I was the "place holder" for the group I was with. It occurred to me that I am frequently a place holder because I'm willing to go quietly into a line or a situation and well, hold a place for someone else. This is not to whine about it. I'm perfectly happy holding a place for someone. Usually us placeholders are not flashy or showy. We don't go about calling attention to the fact that someone is coming for which we are merely creating a vacuum that they will fill. This is what we do.

Of course I became more engrossed in the analogy (as I am wont to do) and decided that in our faith life, we can be placeholders too. We can be the people who come in and set up tables for a dinner. We can be the people who find the balloon vendor for the upcoming church fair, and make sure he'll be there and his price is good (if not free!). They are the ones who help new people find a pew, find their place in a hymnal, or simply show a friendly face smiling back at a fidgety child during the sermon. The placeholders of this world are not the big money makers, sermon givers or fancy dressers. They are the humble, obedient servants that Jesus spoke of from the woman who cleansed Jesus' feet with her hair to the stewards who witnessed the water turned into wine conversion. But the placeholders are as exalted as the ones for whom we hold a place. For our place in the scheme of things is always to hold it for the Lord. We are holding the place, nay, standing in place of the one who comes after us. The one who has power and authority over all things and stands in line to no one person or thing. And in this capacity, we are given the authority to "hold" his place in line. We are called to actively participate in life, reaching and stretching our faith lives for the one who will come after us, the one whose name we carry in our hearts and minds. So that when he comes again, there will be a place at the table for all who have saved a place.

Here and Now

2010-07-28T14:12:00.000-07:00

In my busyness today, I was short tempered and rushed. I did all kinds of things on the computer and the phone kept ringing with people asking questions--interrupting my trains of thought. Very distracting. I came home tired and sort of achy, lower back stressed to the max, shoulders tight. I was probably seeing double by the time I got home and changed clothes.

Usually I open my e-mail as a part of my "coming home and decompressing" routine and check to see who sent me things, who is asking for money, who is reminding me of my civic duty. But today I got an e-mail from a friend with no explanation in the subject line. She has a little boy, so her time is tight. I thought she probably had a busier day than mine in some ways. I opened the e-mail and there was a quick hello and an internet address to go to. I need to explain that we were talking yesterday about the fact that her father passed away two years ago and she was feeling melancholy, reminiscing as we tend to do when we miss someone. I shared that even though my own father had died almost 20 years ago, I still have those waves of feeling wash over me. Then I told her I would send something I wrote about my dad, hoping that it would help her to know someone else felt the same. She called me today, in the midst of my pandemonium and said she appreciated what I had wrote. End of story--so I thought.

So back to the e-mail...I opened the url and it showed a 1954 juke box. I guess it was supposed to be a testament to those dinosaurs of long ago, showing how they worked with 45's, how you had to select the songs to play, how the needle played the actual record. But the most amazing thing, was that the song she had found, was the song which played a prominent part in what I wrote about my dad. I was stunned to hear the song come out of that Youtube video as clear as a bell. And then I thought, what a wonderful gift to give me! It is rare that someone takes the time to hear another person's murmurings, their ramblings, their "important to them" facts, but especially today, it was humbling to believe that someone in her own sadness, could bring me such a gift on such a day.

The Lord puts people in our paths all the time. We stumble over them, we fail to acknowledge their contributions to our lives, we blatantly ignore them. But today, I was so gifted and blessed by this person's unselfish sharing, I hardly knew how to accept such generosity. I wrote her back, of course, using the words "thank you" probably too much. But it was such a gift, so open-hearted and well-amazing-that thank you didn't seem big enough. But I will thank the Lord, too. For his placing this person in my life, in my path. I may have stumbled upon her in the dark, but the light from her spirit and from God's gift will remind me that the path doesn't need to be dark and moody. As long as we have those willing to share the light.

I hope you share your light with someone today. I'll work on tomorrow.

Just a thought...

2010-07-17T09:45:00.000-07:00

So here I am thinking about all the things I have to do on a Saturday, and I'm not doing any of them. I'm writing on this blog instead! There are always things to do, I guess. Not being a particularly A-type personality I'm willing to let them go while I tap out these thoughts. I was thinking of the analogy I gave a few posts back about cleaning up. My mind is still very cluttered, but I'm familiar with the bric-a-bracs at this point and would be hard-pressed to throw them out. Some of the clutter was just junk--the thinking that I could win my way into heaven like some kind of lottery. Or the other idea that if I'm good enough, I'll get a pass. I'm never gonna be good enough, so that isn't going to work either. Thank God.

Yes, that's the point. Thank God. I have spent a lot of time lately on myself, worrying, fretting, mumbling to myself. It's time to begin to thank God. For the beautiful butterfly that is resting in the hot sun outside the window. For the blue of the sky, the green of the grass (okay, a lot of it is brown, but there is green poking through, too!), for the vibrant red of the flowers in their pots, for the coolness of the air conditioning inside which lets me see outside without withering like so many of the plants that I haven't watered yet. Thank God for the family I have, the family of my congregation, the friends of my life who water me and keep me feeling as though I am a person of value that God does indeed love.

So I'm sitting here writing my thanks and the dust is still on the tables and the cobwebs are still in the corners. But I will eventually take care of those things, but for now, thanks be to God I have a house to dust! And well, just thanks be to God!

Daily Devotions

2010-07-07T14:24:00.000-07:00

I signed up yesterday for a daily devotion to be delivered to my e-mail address. The ultimate in geeky faith life I guess. I had signed up with another devotional about 2 years ago. The author struck a chord with me and every post (okay, ALMOST every post) was wonderful and spiritual. All those things I needed to hear at my desk in work where my faith and spirituality are constantly undermined by snide remarks and snarky comments. But the author has begun a new chapter in his life and posting his devotions "just ain't gonna happen" every day. So I've been high and dry for a while now. The funny thing is, I didn't really notice the lack of readings and faith touch stones until I began to find myself being snide and snarky without even thinking about what I was doing. I needed a fix.

The new devotions don't seem as dynamic as the other. They don't quite reach me in the same place, but that's okay. I need something to tether me to my savior, it's a cinch I wasn't swimming in the right direction on my own. And who knows? Maybe I'll begin to develop an appreciation for the new devotionals. My well was pretty dry. And a trickle of water is better than being thirsty.

Responsibility

2010-06-28T17:07:00.001-07:00

I've noticed something recently. There is a certain responsibility to be a believer of Jesus. See, technically, it's easy to be a believer. 'Cause you know, you just believe. But if you really believe and become a follower--ah, then--it is no longer an armchair activity. You find yourself compelled to do something at the oddest times. If you attend a committee meeting, you find you offer to help out by baking a cake or bringing in macaroni and cheese in a box for certain efforts. You notice other people, the things that are important to them, the things they care about. And you begin to see what they are doing about their concerns and you think, hey, it might be nice to do that too! You have a "penny" bank on the kitchen counter which you put your spare change in (and your kids get a kick out of the sound it makes when they contribute, too) and you don't mind doing that. You read about Vacation Bible school needing some food or some craft items and even though you "don't do VBS" anymore, you find yourself looking out for sales on certain things so you can bring them to church on Sunday. You read up about the mission trips that the people are making to Bosnia or Africa or or Haiti or even the Gulf and you think, I could give something for that, even if I can't be there. And you also notice that the church is at work defining itself through it's social statements on things like Genetics and Sexuality. And even if all you do is read up on this stuff, you find you are no longer just sitting and staring at the television. You find yourself caught up in caring and paying attention.

And that's what being a believer is really about. Taking responsibility for your beliefs. Of course, the really nice thing is that you are not alone in your responsibility. You are part of a community of faith. So how about it? Will you join in the work? I guarantee, the benefits are out of this world!

Cleaning House

2010-06-19T12:21:00.000-07:00

I haven't posted for a while. It's not because I'm not interested, it's because I'm cleaning. Well, that technically isn't true either. I have just as much dust in my home as I ever have. And the vacuum and I don't even remember each others names. No, the kind of cleaning I'm doing is done on the inside, where others cannot see unless I show them.

I've begun to unclutter some of my thinking, not unlike throwing out the junk in the attic, I guess. I find that when I think about myself and my "lot in life" too much, I get kind of cranky. So I'm trying to think outward instead of inward. I find I worry, too about things that I really can't do anything about in the long run. I can worry about the greening of the environment and can do my part, but I cannot solve the BP spill by worrying about it. I worry about my siblings, hoping they are okay with the pitfalls of life, but really, I can't change their circumstances without their wanting to do so, so I find I must leave it to God. And that basically is what cleaning up is all about--for me anyway. I have to stop backpacking, storing up sorrows and worries. I have to begin to trust that God is not only in the big picture, but if I give him half a chance, he's probably in the details as well. My prayer life is getting into shape. My worship life is being exercised. My Bible reading is lifting weights. I'm using spiritual muscles that I've let go for a while and it feels healthy to use them again. I'm airing out the closed windows of my mind and scrubbing those stains of stubbornness and pride with more vigilance. Who knows what I'll tackle next? So perhaps I'll post a little more in the next few weeks before I fall back into my old habits. But maybe this time I will have cleaned up enough space to let in the light of God. I certainly hope so!

Memories of Heinz

2010-06-06T07:58:00.000-07:00

While looking at the bulletin this Sunday, I noticed an announcement at the top of the page on one of the inserts. It mentioned the family of Heinz Menzel asking us to keep them in our prayers. I knew then, that Heinz has passed away. Many of you probably don’t remember him, a quiet gentleman, his white hair neatly combed, who usually sat towards the back during the early service.

But he was an important part of my life in our church community and I wanted to share a little of that with you in memory of him. When I was searching for a place to do service, I was finding it difficult. I had at the time a small daughter who accompanied me everywhere I went. She was (and is) a delightful person, her smile is infectious. But she was not yet in school and it was a challenge to do something for the church while keeping her occupied. Pastor Kitz tapped me to do the “Tape Ministry” which included coming to the church during the week, getting the cassette tape of the service copied, then placing the copies in a box for the volunteers who visited the shut-in members of the congregation. The copying of the tape involved a unique machine which, at the time, would enable me to copy these cassettes one after another. But the machine was located at the church, so I was required to spend some time in the building copying the service, whilst my daughter danced, fidgeted and sometimes careened around the building looking for something to amuse her. Enter the men from the Property Committee. At that time these were gentlemen who were retired and puttered about with their tools, fixing whatever was wobbling, creaking, squeaking or immobile. They began to notice my daughter and began to include her in their conversations. I can’t recall all of the guys, but two of them Sam Woodside and Heinz would make special trips just to see her. She was shy with them, but they were kind and paid her court, which was enormously endearing to me, trying to do the job entrusted to me.

After giving up the tape ministry for other things, I rarely saw the men of the Property Committee, but they always asked after my daughter whenever they saw me. Eventually the only member of that original committee was Heinz. I soon began coming to the early service and he greeted me warmly every single time, remembering our camaraderie of those mornings. He was not one to show his emotions, but when his wife passed away, I knew he grieved enormously.

Because life moves on, I did not really take notice when he wasn’t in attendance as often, but when he did come; I made sure to share the peace with him. And now I realize how long it had been since I had last seen him. I will miss his presence, but know he rests with the other guys of the Property Committee, taking care of the Lord’s House in which he dwells.

Rhythms

2010-06-04T13:08:00.000-07:00

The rhythms of our days can be as monotonous as the sea crashing to shore or as predictable as the way a bird will sing in couplets outside of your window when you're trying to sleep late.

But the rhythm of your faith life can be a little more erratic, a little more unpredictable. I know people who pray at the same time every day, in the same way using almost the same words. But their prayers are as vibrant and new as a sunrise each morning. I know of people who almost never read a devotional but find the glory and wonder of God in everything from the ants in their kitchen to the fuzz on a sycamore leaf and make sure they tell everyone about it. I used to receive a devotional reading on my e-mail at work every day. The writer has recently been less than punctual, but when he does get around to sending something it is worth the wait. What do we do with the 24 we've been so generously graced with? How do you find rhythm in your faith life? Are you regimented and strict with your time? Or are you serendipitous and quixotic? I don't believe either of the extremes are either right or wrong. They just are. Your faith life is a reflection of who you are and what is important to you. But remember at least to speak with God. He's listening always.

Memorial Day

2010-05-29T09:21:00.000-07:00

I have a calendar next to the computer where I write these thoughts. It's one of those "bible quote" a day things. It's not necessarily related to the liturgical year in the church, but the quotes usually have a way of working into my thoughts as my day goes on.

The verse today is from Psalm 4, verse 8 to be exact. They use the NIV version of the bible and it says, "I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety."

On this Memorial Day of 2010, I could wax eloquent on the sure thought that many who died for their country are sleeping safely either on these shores or across the seas. But the verse has poignancy for me today because it would have been my father's 86th birthday. He was a veteran, so I guess this qualifies as the patriotic portion of the post. I didn't know him as a soldier, though, so I can't relate stories of his bravery, or lack of it. His heroics or lack of that either. I can relate that he was a good provider, a steadfast "head of house", a man who modeled charity for others. He didn't always model charity at home, but then most of us have lapses for those we love the most simply because they're always there.

In thinking of my father on this day, looking at that verse I am comforted in the notion that he sleeps in peace and safety. Because he was in the Lord. He isn't sleeping in peace and safety because of his love for his family or his wife--although that was commendable. And not even because when he was laid off of one job and searched for another until he found one, thereby making sure we were provided for--which was also laudable. It was because he was in the Lord. He believed in the Lord. I never had a conversation with him about his faith, sad as that is to relate. But he attended church pretty regularly. He was an usher many times, he counted the offering, he was a church council member. Through his quiet witness, he showed his children his faith. And so on this, his birthday, I am reminded of his reserved belief, I rest assured that he is dwelling in safety.

I hope your Memorial Day is filled with love, laughter and the assurance that those you love who dwell in the Lord, will be peaceful and safe.

I Wish For a Pony

2010-05-20T10:49:00.000-07:00

When I was little, I remember my sister wishing fervently for a pony. She loved horses of any kind. She had a ceramic horse collection. She had pictures plastered over the ceiling and walls of our room. She loved horses! But in all the time she wished (every birthday candle I'm sure was dedicated to the proposition that a horse was in the works), I don't believe she ever prayed for one. In fact, I remember feeling that certain things just weren't "prayed for" as far as my mother was concerned. You could pray over someone getting better, or for God to watch out for someone, or even for help with a test. But the idea of praying for something material was a no-no. I don't remember her exactly telling us that, but I recall us praying vehemently for an increase in allowance and having her scowl over the top of her glasses as the request was being made. We probably amended the request by saying, "so we can give more money to the poor." She probably rolled her eyes at that, sensing our less than sincere overtones ringing hollowly.

And now I am an adult. And I began to wonder, is it okay to pray for material things? In a country as blessed as ours, with so many things at our disposal, is it wrong to want more money? More clothes? A bigger house? If we scale it down to those who don't have as much, is it wrong to pray for clothes that don't have holes in them? Or a roof over your head? Or any money at all to buy food or clothes or any shelter at all? And if those requests aren't met, is that because they were for material things and not "other worldly" or more global things like ending poverty or the beauty pageants favorite--world peace?

If you believe that God listens to each and every one of us and sees our needs and knows us so well, how could it be wrong to pray for anything? I think the distinction comes when other factors are considered. If you are praying for a horse to win at the Kentucky Derby after you have spent your grocery money at the betting window, although I am sure God hears that fervent request, I'm not sure answering it by winning is going to be the thing that helps you along the road to being his follower. Of course, I'm judging here, and no one is qualified to do that but God. But it seems to me if our life's work is to be God's children, his hands and feet, winning the Kentucky Derby instead of buying bread and milk for your family is not the way to spread the word. But what about the people who pray and seriously to win the lottery so they can "give more money to the poor?" Or give it to the church? Or really want to try and accomplish world peace and know it comes at a price that some money might help to accomplish? I suppose you can justify anything if you want it bad enough. But it seems to me, unlike my mother, praying to win the lottery isn't really a bad thing, if you want to give that money away to others who need it. It wouldn't hurt if you got to keep some in the long run. But maybe that's what the good Lord in his infinite wisdom is trying to teach you by not answering that particular prayer.

It's one of those things I'm gonna have to ask him when I see him. That and why we couldn't have a pony.

Will They Know You Are Christian?

2010-05-15T11:59:00.000-07:00

So I'm wondering about how we show our Christianity to the world without blasting their eardrums out of their heads. I read something the other day that said the song, "And They'll Know We Are Christians By Our Love," was too successful. That people started using that to sing around campfires instead of Kumbaya. So many people used it that it became trite and people made fun of its relevance.

I also remember reading the Harry Potter books and the one thing that worked for Harry above all others was Love. His ability to love, which the evil Lord Voldemort was unable to do. Maybe there's something to that, then. That love is the answer, no matter what the question. Jesus gave us instructions to love our neighbors as ourselves. Not the smushy, gooey love, but the real honest to goodness, caring about how you are thing. Are we too self-absorbed these days to do that? I don't know, honestly. I sometimes don't like myself enough to even think of the other guy. If I can't love myself, what does that say about the ability to care for another.

But see the whole love thing is complicated by the "I'm-the-one-doing-the-loving" idea. And I think this is where most of the idea that Jesus was trying to impart falls through. See, I think the love we are to have for ourselves and our neighbor is given to us from God. It isn't something I do. It is something done for me, with me, but not by me. It is not ME doing the loving, it's God's love coming through me. I'm the conduit, not the generator (if I can use those electric terms). And so if it's not generated by me, then I can simply ask God to work through me and BINGO I'm not responsible for holding back, or deciding who gets it and who doesn't. If I let go and let God as the old saying goes, then anything is possible, even loving the neighbor, Lord Voldemort, or the neighbor who blows leaves during the dinner hour. Because God is doing the loving not me, I can be the person, or conduit that I am meant to be. I got thinking about an old saying and it's this:

The love in your heart
Wasn't put there to stay
Love isn't love 'til
You give it away.

And that pretty much sums up what it means to be a Christian, I think.

The World and All There is

2010-05-04T11:38:00.000-07:00

The weather is glorious today. Sunny with a light breeze. I'm not a pollen sufferer so perhaps I'm optimistic that everyone feels such a beautiful day as today affirms our Maker's handiwork. On days like today I'm struck with the absolute magnificence of creation. The taller trees bowing down their large heads in the wind, the smaller trees bending over more obediently to their maker's breath. The sun illuminating the smallest leaf, the most delicate flower, the most industrious anthill. The air is sweet and light, not bloated and heavy as it will be in August or late July. Our fellow humans are walking their dogs, exercising, laughing, quietly strolling, communing as it were with our Lord. Oh, they may not call it that. It may not even be a conscious decision on their part. But make no mistake, every deep breath of this beautiful day, there is an unspoken prayer of thanks underneath.

Thanks be to God for days like today!

Discipline and Discipleship

2010-04-26T17:18:00.000-07:00

These two words are not usually intertwined. Discipline has sort of punitive overtones to it. You were disciplined, after all, if you did something bad as a kid. I remember my parents speaking of discipline as something that would not be a comfortable thing (especially in reference to the tracking of mud on the kitchen floor after it was just cleaned!). It wasn't until much later that I realized that discipline could be a good thing as well. Guiding myself along in a structured way had it's rewards. When you look up the word discipline it says this, "training that corrects, molds, or perfects the mental faculties or moral character." The first couple of definitions simply emphasize what I knew the word to mean growing up. But its this third definition that I want to link with the second word up there in the title.

Discipleship. This word comes before discipline in the dictionary--well at least the word disciple does. And that word is said to mean, "One who accepts and assists in spreading the doctrines of another: as in-one of the twelve in the inner circle of Christ's followers according to the Gospel accounts." So to mean a disciple was a bringer of good news (you know, Gospel). Whereas, discipline meant the bringing of bad news (retribution for muddy floors). They didn't seem compatible. Except upon closer inspection.

Being a Christian was never supposed to be easy. I think that's where I fall short today in my thinking. Christianity can be a pretty easy and lukewarm thing. If we say we are Christian, we can go to church on Sundays, we can occasionally say a prayer or two, but nothing much is felt to be required. We don't have to take a test, pay an initiation fee, or even think much about it, if we choose not to. And therein lies the problem. If our faith isn't something we have to work at, why work at all? We work hard for most everything else in our lives, we think. We work hard at work. We take care of our homes, our families, our car payments, our mortgage payments. We try to remember to take time out to exercise once in a while, it's exhausting. The one thing I don't want to have to do is work for my faith.

So what do I mean then? Do I mean standing on a street corner and shouting? I think what I'm talking about is somehow becoming more disciplined in my disciplining. Becoming more aware of what it means to be a Christian and then going about doing it. Not by thumping my Bible (or even beating my chest). But by being more conscious of what I am called to be and to do. Not by quoting verses (let's not forget the chapters as well?!), but by living the grace that is freely given to me and responding in joyous affirmation. Being mindful of being a Christian. That's what I mean. Being careful of where I put my sharp tongue. Being aware of where my feet are leading me. Asking God to be with me on the path, not to push me along, but assisting me in prayer and helping me to see the path before me, whichever one I take.

So here's the deal, next Sunday we're going to begin a discussion in the Adult Sunday School Class of what it means to be a disciplined disciple. There will be no stern lectures (at least not by me!), no wagging of fingers, no being sent to the corner without supper. But there hopefully will be good conversation about what it means to be a conscious believer and how to do that better. Will you join us?

Learning to Fish

2010-04-17T07:10:00.000-07:00

I just read a daily devotion that used this line, "Jesus taught us to fish from the other side of the boat." It is sticking to my mind like that stretchy, sticky stuff they use on labels for things now a days. The devotion was talking about when Jesus appeared to the disciples after his resurrection. They hadn't caught anything all night, but he tells them to fish from the other side of the boat and they caught so much, it was hard to haul it in.

Fishing from the other side of the boat...it seems like a good line. Except it has scary overtones. It means doing something we have done a million times, but in a different way. It means sharing the peace with someone we'd rather not and saying, "Peace be with you," and REALLY meaning it. It means really asking for forgiveness when we do so in prayer without thinking about what the rest of the day brings. It may mean sitting in a different pew for a change.

I think what the author of the devotion touched on (and why it still sticks with me) is that it's really easy to always fish from the same side of the boat. It's easy to do the same thing, the same way in the same place all the time. There is a comfort in sameness. But the Lord asks us to do things a little differently now that Easter has arrived. We are called to remember that we are a new creation in that rebirth and new creations don't always do the same thing the same way.

How can we fish from the other side of the boat this week? What can we do that although it is the same, is also new and different? More in line with what our lives can be about as Christians? How can we come away from the fishing trip with more in our nets than we ever had before? I'm still working on that. I hope you will too!

Gimme a light

2010-04-15T17:57:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking of the lights in our lives. No, not light bulbs and smelly candles. The lights that come to us through our family and friends. Some people are just light bringers. They shine through their smiles, their laughs, their hugs. They just can't seem to help it! I'm not sure it's a conscious thing--this light bringing. I know a woman who, although she is very sick, can still light up any corner of the room she enters with her presence. She doesn't really do anything spectacular or showy. She just, well, shows up. And each time she does, people around her smile more often, exchange greetings with others after she walks away and you can see the path she has woven through a crowd.

I was reading a devotion today that reminded me of the kid's song, "This Little Light of Mine." You remember that one? We sing it once in a while to remind us about the light we each carry around with us. But we also need to remember where the light came from and what we do with our lights. As caretakers of the light given to us by God, we are compelled to share with others. Now sometimes we don't want to share the light because, well, I guess there are lots of reasons. It feels pretty good to bask in the light of God, so why share it? Won't it be colder if we "spread it around"? Or maybe we worry that someone would be offended by the light--it isn't the right wattage or the right company. It's safe to keep the light to ourselves. But I believe the light was meant to be shared, savored and given out as much as possible. Like the woman I know, it's better to give the light, then stub your toe in the darkness.

So let's share some light this week with each other, not just at church, but wherever we go. Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.

Welcome

2010-04-13T16:56:00.000-07:00

To those who have just joined us here at the 'ol blogspot, welcome! St. Mark Lutheran Church is located in Oaklyn, NJ. I have been a member of St Mark's for about 25 years. I hope to share some of my experiences with you and hope you will share with me as well. Commenting after each post enables you and others to share your thoughts and ideas in a public way. Encouraging each other in our faith and beliefs is what Christianity is all about, after all. Although I welcome your comments, please remember that because this is a public venue, it's a good idea to use this space to share ideas and faith stories, but not to name names even in a good way! Some people may not like having their names or certain events made public, so please try to take other people's feelings in consideration when responding.

So again I say, welcome! Let's see where the spirit leads us.