Hard Questions On the Journey

““Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?” When they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled back.” (Mark 16:3b-4)

The question of the women on their way to the tomb is a question that seems to be reappearing in many conversations these days. “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?” is being culturally translated into: Who will help me get a job? Who will help me feed my family? Who will help me with the cost of medicines? Who will help me with my rising power bills? Who will help me sort out my life? Who will help me with my parents who are aging into children? Who will help me with my children who are aging into teenagers? Who is it that cares about me, besides me? What difference does my life make any more? Which way do I need to turn to find peace? Will there ever again be the notion of security in my life? Who will roll away the permanency of dying and death that seems to encompass my living?
Three women on their way to Jesus’ tomb, on their way with spices to anoint the dead, ponder the harsh realities of their situation: None of the men ‘dared’ come out of hiding for fear of those who crucified Jesus; Women are practically invisible in a patriarchal society; Jesus is very, very dead; They had watched Hope be crucified on a cross; They had observed the victory of hatred and animosity; They knew the size of the stone, the mass of power and prejudice, which sealed the Good News of God in a tomb; They knew they could not move the stone; They knew they would have to have help; and, They knew they had to go take care of their friend. They are caught in an untenable situation: Go to take care of their friend and hope someone would help them or stay at home and allow the stench of death to consume the One they loved. They couldn’t stay at home, but neither did they have an answer as to who might be bold enough to help them.
Answers to the hard questions of faith and life are seldom found in the privacy of safe places. Just as the answer to “Who will roll the stone away . . . .” was revealed at the site of the stone and the tomb itself so, too, are the answers to the hard questions of our time most likely to be revealed while on the journey. Well we are able to name ‘death’ and the causes of ‘death’ in our lives: Joblessness, homelessness, bankruptcy, depletion of retirement investments, failure of stock market investments, the housing market, the auto market, AIG, Fannie Mae, Freddie Mac, Rod Blagojevich, Illinois Legislature, Washington D.C. politics, rising taxes, lowering services, and the list goes on and on. But, are we willing and able to journey with our Friend, Jesus, in the face of death and meet the One who rolls the stone away? Are we believing enough, maybe even doubtful enough yet seeking a wonder, to walk out the doors of the locked rooms – in which we tuck all our insecurities and ‘knowledge’ away – to seek the answers only God can give? Or are we so wrapped up and invested in the perceived ability of government “ . . . to deliver us from evil” (words of our Lord’s Prayer) that we are incapable of recognizing deliverance coming from any other source?
Not to move out of our safe places to walk with Jesus is granting unto death another victim. Not to move in extending friendship to the One who comes to deliver us is to accept the paralysis of fear as the norm for life. Not to move towards God’s resolutions in our lives, even while pondering the hardest of questions, is to give victory to a stone whose only function is to seal death in place. Get up! Move towards God’s Easter for you! Go out! And, in the midst of your questions, be ready for Good News to be delivered from heavenly places! Death is no more!

Who is rolling the stone away for you?

Your servant in Christ,

Pastor Don

Rainbow Messages

As the storm rolled through, as the rains washed the earth, the sun began to emerge from under the western edge of the cloud layer and, there in the still-blackened eastern skies, a rainbow burst into being. Vibrant, bold, and audacious, as if shouting to the world, "See, I am still here! I have not forgotten my word! Out of the storms of your living, remember My Presence and know I am with you!" Then, as if the first rainbow were not enough of a reminder, there appeared a second, no less brilliant rainbow, echoing the message of the first. Awestruck and humbled, the Biblical words of Genesis reverberated through my heart, "This is my covenant with you." God makes covenant. We make promises.

Covenant always begins in God, for the Creator of all things is the Source of relationship, the Hope of a mutual journey. Humanity's best effort in responding is to God's covenant is not to make another covenant with God, but to live God's covenant with integrity. It seldom fails to amuse me as congregations, conferences, denominations, even commercial industries, take up the covenantal language, making covenant with God and others as though they have the creative, steadfast chutzpah of God to keep covenant as God keeps covenant. It is a presumptuous, even perilous step to take in tossing out covenantal language in the same way Morton tosses out salt: It loses its power and authority in the same way salt loses its taste when the only point of origin which can be claimed is the frailty of humanity.

God throws a rainbow in the sky and says, "Look! I remember My word and keep My covenant with you!" then, underscores the proclamation with a second, no less wondrous rainbow. Who among us would even dare to try copying God's claim? Rainbow messages are profound statements I pray my humanity never forgets to heed and live, for in living God's covenant with me I am blessed to walk with the God who speaks the covenant into being from age to endless age.

Here's to living Rainbow Messages!

Your servant in Christ,

Pastor Don

I Sat For a While With An Old Friend

I sat for a while today with an old friend as she waited with a patient spirit for death to come. It has been a slow and agonizing journey, often fraught with vast periods of loneliness and longing. Friends who swore they would always be there, were for a while. Friends that promised to write and keep her up to date, faltered after a few weeks. Acquaintances who whispered sweet words of 'thoughts and prayers', quieted their thoughts and offered few words months ago . . . and my old friend has only the occasional visit of a child who rarely has time, the gentle tendings of hospice personnel and the vigil of a pastor who has been embraced as a friend.

If you were to begin counting your 'breaths' from the time you are born to the time you die, how many would you breathe? As I sat with my friend and watched her shallow breathing, I thought of the birth of each of our children and grandchildren. Each birth somehow amazingly accompanied by that first big breath of air . . . then the cry, the wail, the siren signal to the world to 'Watch out! I'm ready to take my place now!' From the time a baby first breathes to the time an aging woman breathes no more, how much air is a part of the body's journey? How many times do we breathe? Watching my friend welcome her final breaths of life, a grudging acknowledgment of being tired and ready for the next step of God's plan in her life, I wondered how we will ever know when the next breath will be our last breath. Does it even matter?

From the cross, Jesus cried out, "Into your hands I commend my spirit", and he slumped into the arms of God, breathless at the end of the journey, and died. I am not aware that Jesus ever counted his breaths, but I know that he counted the breath of God's creation as holy and sacred. That we might know life, he became our life. He became our breath. He become our breathing when the world would have counted us for dead. Then, in love for each of us and not counting his breaths as precious to him, he gave us his breath for us . . . that we might breathe forevermore.

Maybe it is as simple as this: A life spent counting breaths is a life whose breath breathes no meaning, yet a life spent breathing meaning into all around is a life whose breath lasts forever.

Her breathing was shallow as she slept away the time. I prayed and quietly left the room. Her time for final breaths is near, but not quite here. God's breath in her is moving her to new life, yet only in God's time. I may not be able to count the breaths, but God counts the life which gives breath to others - and though her breaths may diminish in this life, Christ's breath in her will take her to Life whose very breath is the breath of God. Thanks be to God.

Your servant in Christ,

Pastor Don

An Afternoon on the Farm

I spent yesterday afternoon with my older brother, Larry. Most days, when I go to the farm to visit with Larry, the time includes working in the fields or with some special ongoing project around the equipment. Yesterday, we just visited. Oh, we picked up a piece of equipment the farm had purchased for planting and we worked some ground in Larry and Martha's garden where we are going to plant potatoes together but, more than anything else, we just had time to visit, to be brothers, to be friends.

Have you ever had the opportunity to smell fescue grass growing in the Spring? Or to watch the robins hopping over the ground on the prowl for worms? Or to taste the succulent sweetness of newly emerging sweet clover in the lawn? Or to have a 'friendly' steer lick your arm trying to get your attention? Or have a giant of a farm dog trot along next to you just trying to place his head in your hand so that you will pet him? Or to have a small herd of cats follow you around, weaving in and out of your feet, so that you will pet them . . . and feed them? Or to watch young calves kicking up their heels in delight as they raced down a pasture? Or to visit with one of your best friends in all the world?

That is what yesterday afternoon was all about. Social psychologists might call it mental health time. Spiritualists will call it a form of spirituality in the renewal of the soul. Theologians might be tempted to label it taking Sabbath. Yet, beyond all of the framings and namings, the time I spent with my brother was time spent tending to loving bonds, much in the same way, I think, that God longs to walk with all of us.

In the midst of constant movement, constant communication, constant doing, constant planning, constant 'getting done', constant being at the beck and call of so many, time spent with the best of friends is time spent on the mountain away from it all. It is time spent with God's gracious gift of 'nearness', even 'at-one-ment'. Jesus moved away from everyone, including the disciples, to be alone with God. Jesus called the disciples apart to fill their souls with something more than laws and 'shoulds'. Jesus, in the garden, prayed earnestly to the One whom He knew always listened to every word. So, at what point is it that, on our road to 'maturation', we are taught that we don't need such things and time or when is it that we simply begin to forget how important such time really is to the holiness of our living? I'm not sure, yet, it seems that claiming such moments takes an extraordinary amount of energy purely because we have let such time be named as 'unnecessary' or 'forgotten'. God help us.

Walking with him from his home to my car after supper, under the gaze of emerging stars and sounding frogs down by the pond, we simply stopped together to take it in. "You don't get much of this in Lebanon." he said. "No," I replied, ". . . not nearly enough anyway." I think he was talking about the frogs and the wind and the trees and the smells of the country. I was talking about him.

I haven't been getting enough of time spent with one of my very best of friends . . . and it is unnerving, for if I have been so casual about the relationships which should be the most precious to me on earth, what does it say about the time I spend with my best Friend in heaven? Closing my door and starting up my car to back out of the backyard, Larry said something I had trouble hearing, so I rolled down my window to hear him say again, "I love you."

I love you, too, my brother, my friend, and thanks for reminding me of that most precious of gifts from God.

Your servant in Christ,

Pastor Don

John 3:16

John 3:16

In many circles, all you have to do is say it, "John 3:16" and folks will in some manner resonate with what that text says. Others may have to hear the words, "For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whosoever should believe in him may not perish but have eternal life", before they remember what the text is. Yet, however these words from the Gospel according to John are articulated, they speak an intrinsic truth: God.

Some see "John 3:16" and stop at the Son, Jesus. Not a bad place to stop, except that it is Jesus who is speaking the words of the text. So, to what is it that Jesus is pointing?

Some hear the words of John 3:16 and stop at the word 'believes'. Also, not a bad place to stop, except that the word, 'believes', in the context of the sentence, is being defined by Jesus as an appropriate reaction to something else towards which He points. So, again, to what is it that Jesus is pointing?

I ponder on this every time I see 'the end-zone guy/gal' with the poster, "John 3:16". Do they really have any idea what Jesus is trying to get across to Nicodemus as he speaks these words? Probably not. Few do. Most just turn this into some sort of Christological statement which is followed by an announcement of Divine Judgment - of which they are the 'righteous' ones making the declaration and are, thereby, saved by the belief of their words. Yet, like the Israelites who glimpsed the serpent upon the pole in the wilderness (v. 14 refers to Numbers 21:4-9) and were healed and began to worship the serpent upon the pole so, many well-meaning Christians view the cross, experience a transformation and begin to worship the cross. It is not a bad reaction to what is happening, but it is a shallow reaction. It fetters the believer to a precipitous, even perilous existence watching and waiting for the next 'event' to happen in their lives, hoping upon hope that something will happen again and confirm what previously had been acknowledged. Heaven save us from such circular living!

Verse 17 underscores 14, 15, and 16 in one word, "God". "Indeed, God . . . " It is the love of God, it is the grace of God, it is the healing of God, it is the mercy of God, it is the faith of God, it is the initiative of God, it is God that saves the Israelites in the wilderness. The serpent upon the pole offers them an opportunity to look up, as the Psalmist in Psalm 121 alludes, "I lift up mine eyes unto the hills - from where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord who made heaven and earth." The serpent teaches them to look up and see God at work. Similarly, when Christ is nailed to the cross with the nails of power, arrogance, and pride, those who dare to look up from the stinging of the serpents upon the ankles of their lives find more than the Son, not that the Son isn't a pretty incredible sight, but they are given a vision of God which, to paraphrase the Apostle Paul in I Corinthians 13 ("Now we see in a dimly, but then we will see face to face.") is a vision of clarity, wonder and awe, limited by the human mind as it is.

"God so loved the world . . ." is Jesus pointing beyond Himself to the One who is in Him, through Him, of Him. John 3:16 is the creation story from a whole new vantage point, it is the deliverance of Israel out of Egypt with a twist, it is entering the land with a purpose, it is God defining the identity of God's people from the beginning of time, it is a statement of being . . . and that statement is God.

I'm not sure all of that would fit on a poster, nor do I believe folks at a sporting event would even care. Maybe I should be content that a witness is being made . . . still . . . Oh, well, I better trust it to God. If it was good enough for Jesus to move on after talking with Nicodemus, it should be good enough for me. There is more at stake in this world than posters and Pharisees.

John 3:16. What does it mean to you? It is something to think about, to pray on.

Your servant in Christ,

Pastor Don

What Kind of a God

I was asked again today, "What kind of a God lets such things happen?" (referring to the recent shooting death of a Baptist Pastor in front of his congregation) Such questions are seriously asked and require serious responses, so I replied, "The same God who allows us to enjoy this beautiful Spring day." Then I received 'the smile', the 'knowing nod of the head', and the polite, "I guess you're right", as they moved on out of my office. Clearly, the inquisitor did not receive the answer and affirmation they were seeking and, so, stayed no longer, yet, in the words of a former seminary professor of mine, Rev. Dr. Walter Breuggemann, I choose never to, " . . . be in the business of defending God. God is quite capable of making God's own case. Thank you very much."

That said, let me also clarify, I am not God, nor do I pretend to know the mind of God: My frame of reference is Christ upon the cross and the empty tomb. The God I believe in has already fully entered the fray of humanity's inhumanity in the person of Jesus. Emmanuel, God With Us, is the Divine Love of God with us, even before us, in the sanctuary as the shooter pulled the trigger. Similarly, God was already with us as terrorists chose to divert innocent passengers to their deaths at the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and into a field in Pennsylvania. Likewise, God With Us walks the way of those who hunger for food while AIG executives take their million dollar bonuses at the expense of the hungry. Likewise God With Us bears up both, child and parent, as the child enters into the cancer ward for the umpteenth time to receive 'life-saving' chemotherapy. Also, God With Us carries in God's arms the family violently forced out of their home and off their land as the latest of insecure radical supremacists inflicts their will and steals that family's life and livelihood.

"What kind of a God lets such things happen?" The same God who, in the wisdom of creation, created humanity in the image of God . . . and gave humanity a very God-like gift: freewill. God didn't shoot the Pastor. God didn't pilot those planes. God didn't take the million dollar bonus. God didn't give the child the cancer, nor did God give the parents the heartache. God did not place a violent supremacist in power. Humanity did. Yet, as long as we blame God we do not have to look in the mirror of our own existence and see how we continue today to drive nails of violence, massive consumption, disease, and power into the hands and feet of Jesus. As long as we can make it God's issue, it will not be our issue - and our faith and servanthood are safely intact . . . Amen! Thank you, Jesus!

God is already at work showing us the way to justice, peace, and deliverance from wont and pain, even in the midst of life's hard lessons, but dare we look into the face of Jesus and see our own need, our own shortcomings, our own lethargic responses? Dare we face the shooter in Maryville, the terrorists on 9-1-1, the disease in the lives of the most innocent, and the rancor of extremism - and see our own complicity, our own need for mercy? Or, is it simply easier to lay it at the feet of God, expecting some sort of 'miracle' to take us off the hook, and make the 'not-nearly-present-enough-God' the aggressor . . . that we not have to concede His Victory of an empty tomb in spite of us?

Sometimes it makes me wonder.

"What kind of a God lets such things happen?" The same kind of a God who lays God's own life on the line in God's only Son, Jesus, and shows us the way towards keeping such things from happening again. Such a God is big enough to take on our complaints and accusations - and love us into new life at the door of an empty tomb. Such a God is the God of the Gospel: "The kingdom of God has come near. Repent, and believe in the good news." (Mark 1.15 NRSV) The nearness of the kingdom is the breath of God brushing our lives in grace - which is the kind of a God who is with us in all that happens, no matter what. Thanks be to God!

Birdie Believes She Can Fly

Birdie believes she can fly. Never mind that she is a 9 month old, 50 pound Black Labrador Retriever, she believes she can fly! If only there was a way for her to get up enough speed and improve her leaping ability! That she has yet to catch one of those pesky robins on the power lines hasn't deterred her from trying, making a walk with her something of an adventure in holding onto her leash. There is no problem with her running away, it is just a matter of holding her on the ground while she constantly jumps for the heavens above . . . and maybe there is something to be learned from her.

How often are we reminded of our limitations rather than encouraged by our possibilities? How many times have we had our own leash yanked on by someone who was telling us how stupid we were for trying to fly? How many times have we done it to others? How many times have we told our children or grandchildren, "Oh, you can be anything you like (as long as it is something of which we approve)." How many times in the Church have we made the wonder of God inapproachable to children by the weight of our sinful behaviors? How many times have we kept others down in the pew when all they wanted to do was stand up in the Lord?

"Oh, we don't do that here." "No laughing or giggling in church." "I haven't seen them here before, and they certainly don't look like they belong here." "They want to what, in church?" "A woman preach?" "Communion for children?" "We're conservative here (which is code for, 'You would never catch me doing that!')" "The preacher really should have a talk with them (which is code for 'I can't explain why I don't like it, but I don't and I don't have the brass to say it myself!)" And the list goes on and on.

We just pull on the leash and hold down the hands of the Spirit hoping upon hope that the Church doesn't get out of control and find a way to fly in new directions 'on our watch'! God save us all if Birdie would catch a robin on the wire! Next thing you know, she'd be trying for red-tailed hawks out over the pasture!

Hmmmmmmm. Maybe I need to spend a little less time holding onto Birdie's leash and a little more time building a trampoline to aid her quest. Maybe there is something for all of us to learn in the trying.

Your servant in Christ,

Pastor Don

Church Meetings

'For God so loved that world that God did not create the world by committee.'

I have spent the better part of an afternoon, a Sunday afternoon, in church meetings. I attended a region-wide event, which was a great time for renewing and enjoying friendships helpful for the soul, yet, that the intent of the day was 'meeting' and not particularly 'visiting' dampened the effects of our time together. Hmmmmm.

Having been in ministry for something over twenty years now, it occurs to me that often, maybe too often, religion gets in the way of faith. 'Officialdom' becomes the standard bearer of 'what needs to be done in the name of the Church', rather than faith guiding and directing our steps. What Jesus strove, literally, to accomplish in walking and talking with his companions along the road becomes mutated by meetings to set up meetings which inform the content of meetings that address the issues raised in meetings . . . ad nauseum. Is it any wonder that the current generation is skeptical of what relevance the Church has in the current culture? While taking on the trappings of technology and espousing the language of the world-wide web in all of its many names, the Church is losing touch with its own inherent mission and language of being the handmaiden of Christ. Christ has become a sales tool, spirituality a fix for the desperate, and service projects the antidote for misplaced guilt and anxiety.

God has birthed creation and, by extension, all of humankind to be in relationship, with God and with each other. Christ fulfills the covenantal nature of that relationship by overcoming in faith all that would separate us from God and each other. The Holy Spirit hearkens our souls to trust, love and obey in building bridges of faith over the chasms of this world's darkness's which would hide the Light of God from the eyes of those most in need. The Church is birthed in the Spirit to live into Missio Dei, God's mission of reconciliation of the entire world. The Church was never intended to be the master of its destiny, nor was it birthed to enslave God's children to lives of butt-tiring, brain-numbing meetings.

The Church is the Body of Christ called, still, to walk with all God's children . . . or it is not the Church. Though no-one ever said the Church is to be perfect, that should not become an excuse for not striving to walk in Christ's perfection. Meetings should never take precedence over relationships. May God save us all from the next meeting which will be set to discuss this 'pertinent and timely issue'.

Your servant in Christ,

Pastor Don