Responsibility

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

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

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

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

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

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?

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.