Nancy's Visit to Colorado Springs

Tonight Nancy leaves for Colorado Springs to visit Ched . . . and I'm not going. Nancy asked me this morning if there was anything special I wanted her to tell Ched or give to him. I thought for a moment and said, "Give him a big hug from me and tell him how much I love him."

There is not an ounce of resentment or jealousy in me that Nancy is going to the Springs without me to see Ched. It is just the way our calendars worked and I have other obligations to tend to in the days ahead. I am grateful and glad that Nancy is going . . . but, I do wish I was going with her. Somehow, giving Nancy a hug this morning and asking her to give that hug to Ched just isn't the same as giving him a hug myself. There is something about having your child in your arms, giving them a kiss on the cheek and saying to them personally, "I love you", that makes all the difference in how life itself is ordered.

Maybe that is why Jesus came into our lives. God sent all the prophets ahead of Him to tell the world how much they were loved, to give them a hug, to connect in a 'nearly-present' way, but it just wasn't the same. It's only when Jesus arrives that, at least for the parts of the world ready to receive it, we are given a sense of how much God loves us. Jesus is the embrace of God, the kiss of God, the "I love you" of God, to all who would enter into God's open arms. Jesus makes all the difference in how life itself is ordered.

Nancy and Ched will have a great time together this weekend. There's even a chance Ched will be trying out his new Soaring Instructor Pilot wings on Friday while Mom is watching (weather permitting)! Yet, I know the best part of the visit is not in all the things they will do, it is in the 'being together' in the midst of all the things they do. It is in the hugs, the kisses and the "I love you's", the connections, the touches which make all the difference.

So it should be for all of us, with family, with friends, with God.

The Compliment of Matt

Last night I was told by a friend of ours that Matt, our oldest son, is an incredible young man and a gift to the church. My first thought was, "Thank God our kids have Nancy's common sense!", and my second was, "I am so proud of him!" Of course, having been raised in a fairly humble German household, the first thought, "Thank God our kids have Nancy's common sense!", was an acceptable response to share with our friend, laughingly acknowledging the agreement I had about Matt in my heart, carefully deflecting any credit for who he is becoming . . . while the second thought was not something a father would ever admit to in public, even to a friend, lest you be considered haughty. Yet, all this day, I have been pondering on that very thing.

How does God react when someone says to God, 'You know, your Son is an incredible young man and a gift to the church'? Does God just try to shrug it off and humbly shift the conversation, all the while glowing inside that the Son is making a noticeable difference? Does God relish the moment, trusting that no-one will think God haughty in the glow of the compliment? Or does God just say 'Thank you, I think so, too!'? Parenting is tricky enough without falling prey to personal pride when one of our children is recognized for the work they are doing or the accomplishments they achieve. Lord, save us from pride in our living and parenting, yet . . .

Are such answers to be found in the resurrection? Faithful to who He was birthed and gifted to be, even unto death, Jesus' resurrection points us to a Parent's loving response to a world that sees Him, but does not know Him. The stone rolled away from the tomb is God's affirmation of who Jesus is, whether or not anyone else recognizes it. How much more is God filled with joy when we do recognize it? In resurrection we see God's joy made manifest in who the Son is and is becoming. In facing His doubters in the days after resurrection, we hear again God's words coursing the ages since His baptism, "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased." and, therein, may be my answer.

Affirming faithfulness to self and God, whether in one of our children or someone else, is not prideful. It is truthful. Stating the truth of the moment in an encounter which occurred at a meeting was what our friend did for me last night . . . our friend told the truth about his observation of Matt and who he is choosing to become.

I humbly and heartily concur - and, Matt, in you I am well pleased. As only a parent comes to understand, and as you will come to understand with your own daughters, not everyone sees what the Parent sees or believes as the Parent believes, but when someone does and names it in truth, it is like baptismal waters washing all else away. Only pure love remains. Such love rolls stones away from the tombs of this world's disbelief. Thank you for filling this parent's heart with such joy in these days.

Cardinal Baseball, 2012 Opening Day

The irony is apparent: The 2012 Opening Day for the St. Louis Cardinals has them facing the Chicago Cubs, which is a long and storied rivalry, rich in competition and full of stories told by fanatical fans on both sides. This is a game which was scheduled last year long before the Cardinals won their 11th World Series and who would have guessed in August of 2011 what Opening Day 2012 would include? Yet, there it is: the St. Louis Cardinals receiving the accolades of an adoring and energetic crowd, entering Busch Stadium as conquering warriors in red and white cars, which are following the Anheuser Busch Clydesdale's around the warning track of the stadium . . . while across the way are the Chicago Cubs, more than a hundred years removed from any such championship, watching as their arch-rivals are honored. There is one upside for the Cubs today: No ring presentation today. That is saved for tomorrow's events . . . no sense rubbing it into a Division rival all in one day!

As the Cardinal baseball team begins a new year of competition, as they begin the journey for their twelfth Championship in 2012 ("12 in 12" is the current mantra), am I the only one who senses that the World Series Celebration, though honestly and thoroughly deserved, has about it the sense of those who 'lord it over the Gentiles'? Especially among those news outlets and fans who are gathering for today's opener with a sense that, 'the Cubs dare not mess this up'? I have to hand it to the Cardinal organization as to the classy manner in which all of the festivities are being presented. I would expect no less. Nor would I expect any less of the Cubs than to be equally classy in their presence at the honors, as well as in the competition at game time. Still, I am left mulling: Might this be the perfect impetus the Cubs organization and new GM, Theo Epstein, needed to turn the corner, having to taste the sour wine of humility as the victor savors the spoils? There is a reason Jesus warned the disciples about overdoing that 'sitting on the left or right stuff', precisely because when you are at the top of the heap you make a good target for others who perceive themselves to be below you and resent it. Maybe Jesus saw this day coming with the Cubs, though I haven't read it anywhere in the Gospels, I'm not sure.

Bottom line, the irony cannot be hidden, neither can the truth of moment be left untold. The Cardinals won the 2011 World Series . . . and the Chicago Cubs, well they have had a tough run the last ten decades or so. Like revenge, humility is a dish best served cold, lest in the heat of the moment what gets cooked is a bird on a bat, rather than a bear. Hmmmm. Jesus might have seen this moment coming.

Go, Cardinals!

Good Intentions

Good intentions are often divided from action taken by the fine line of taking the time. I cannot tell you how many are the moments I have thought of giving someone a call, stopping by to visit a parishioner, one of my brothers or my Dad, listening with a willing heart to the entire story someone has to share, and, well the list goes on and on . . .

My life is riddled with good intentions whose memory hangs like the albatross upon my heart, for I have looked into the eyes of those whose fortune it has been to be one of good intentions. The haunting, forlorn, hurt that courses those looks will not quickly leave my soul, nor should they, for they stiffen my resolve not to live a life made up exclusively of good intentions. Easy are the excuses, hard is the reality. No-one, including me, ever wants to know they are little more than a good intention on your list of things to do.

Which is why God sent the only Son. God doesn't just intend to bring all of God's children home, God comes to us and shows us the way. Jesus is God's gift of faithfulness that overcomes our every good intention in faith, in life, in living. The stone rolled away from the tomb bears the tears and scars of generations who wanted to live such faithfulness, but never seemed to have time time or resolve. God's Spirit rolls up the grave clothes of our wanton disregard of God and each other, inviting us to a new reality, a new time of being who God has created us to be.I am grateful to those in my life who regard me as something more than a good intention and pray forgiveness for those moments I have not taken time for another. May God be kinder to us all than we are to each other in all of our good intentions.

Peace on the journey, my friends.

Post-Easter Day Ponderings

Garrison Keillor, in one of his News from Lake Wobegon monologues, referred to the month of March as God's way of helping those who don't drink to know what a hangover feels like. Paradoxically, from my humble perspective, the Great Vigil of Easter and Easter morning Worship Services are God's way of helping everyone to have a taste of what the Kingdom of God is like. Let me explain . . .

The Great Vigil of Easter and the Services of Word and Sacrament on Easter morning tend to be the unique times of the year when: a) Most Christians find time to attend a worship service; b) The kids are excited to be in Sunday School and Church Services; c) The adults in worship are excited to have children in church and are incredibly patient with those children who have seldom been there before; d)The 'regulars' in worship eagerly offer their seats to strangers; e) Worship bulletins inevitably run out and people easily share; f) All of the choirs sing/play/offer gifts; g) Only the very best of high praise music is offered by the musicians; h) People don't mind the service going longer than an hour; i) (at least in our tradition) The fact that everyone, absolutely everyone, is welcome to the Table, from the youngest to the oldest, is celebrated in loving fashion; j) The congregation reflects the diversity of our culture and that is reason for people to smile and laugh in wonder; k) It's 'standing room only' and people are okay with that; l) In the resurrection story of Jesus, people not only are given hope, but on this day claim it in profound and tangible ways; m) The people in the pews do their best to stay awake and smile at the Pastor during the sermon; and, n) For many, this IS the best service they will attend all year (irony intended).

I suspect that many of the more pious church-goer's are going to be really, really surprised by how broadly God chooses to be grace-filled in welcoming God's children into the Kingdom . . . and Easter worship services are God's way of warning all of us that none of us will ever have the perfect picture of that moment until we are there. That's okay with me. In these days, I absolutely adore what I am seeing of the gathered community in sheer praise of God's power and might in defeating death through the faithfulness of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. I am in awe of lily-laced air, the squeals and laughter of 'untrained' children in worship, the hospitality of the 'regulars' for those who arrive just for the 'major moments', and the Spirit at work in it all. I am humbled by the capacity of God to make smooth the waters of division, to roll away the stones of intolerance, and to divide 'the way it has always been' with the staff of Living Bread that all God's children might go to safety on dry land. I love this foretaste of God's immeasurable goodness and long to drink deeply of its refreshing, nurturing nature always.

I pray it so for you, too. Until then, we have Easter morning memories to build upon and share. 'Go, tell the disciples and the others what you have seen and heard, and He will meet you in Galilee, just as He told you.' . . . and so I write this to you.

Have a blessed Eastertide!

Holy Saturday - Day 2

It's Holy Saturday. Day 2. Do you know where Jesus is?Sounds like the beginning of a bad advertisement with the answer waiting somewhere just around the corner, yet it is a legitimate question. Do you know where Jesus is?

The disciples knew where Jesus was. As far as the disciples were concerned, Jesus was dead and lying in a tomb, His body waiting for tomorrow when the women and the disciples would be able to appropriately tend to it. Yet, for today, the disciples were hiding away, afraid of the Jews, afraid of the Romans, afraid of their own fear. Jesus is dead. He isn't going anywhere.

Hmmmm. Funny, how God takes lemons and makes lemonade, how God takes fear and turns it into joy, how God takes death and turns it into life. But, I'm getting ahead of myself. It is so easy to slip into the 'post-resurrection' mode and just wait for what we know will happen . . . . just as the disciples thought they knew then what would happen. It's Holy Saturday. Day 2. Do you know where Jesus is?

New life, Easter life, is not ours to claim as an expected entitlement. New life, Easter life, is God's to grant. We already know that God is a God of great surprises, just ask the shepherds around Bethlehem, or Lazarus, or the ten lepers, or the man with the withered arm, or even Pilate. "What is truth?", Pilate asks. God is about to amaze creation with a truth I'm not sure that we can stand, even today. It is far easier to prepare for an Easter weekend party or worship service, than to prepare to be faithful to God in mindful waiting as we view the truth of Day 2, Holy Saturday, starkly present before us.

I pray for you a blessed and joyous Easter, filled with amazement, not smug in your own cleverness for having figured it out based on the experiences of others, but the kind of amazement that makes you sing for joy with angels above and saints below. I pray for you a blessed and joyous Easter . . . because you are coming to understand what Day 2 is all about.

What Makes Good Friday 'Good'?

The most frequently asked question on Good Friday: What makes Good Friday 'good', if it's the day Jesus is crucified?

Hmmmmm. Let's see: That Jesus is faithful in the face of tremendous opposition; That Jesus' faithfulness is what truly makes Him the unblemished Lamb of God; That Jesus understands death is not the final victor; That Jesus so trusts His life in the Hands of God that even death cannot separate Him from God's Love; That God, in Jesus' faithfulness, conquers death and opens the tomb that we might have hope; That Jesus' blood of faithfulness, much like the blood of the unblemished lambs of that first Passover, is that which covers our life and brings us through the valley in hope; That the Jesus' body, though badly beaten and given unto death for His unyielding faithfulness to God, cannot be held imprisoned by mortal means; That Jesus, in His love of God and all of humankind, will not let those who follow Him alone on the journey; That we are recipients of a grace-filled life of prayer summarized in the Gospel of Luke's recording from the cross, "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do."; That, bottom line, Rome (and by extension, no other human government or religious institution in the world) can lay claim to or have power over life itself, no matter how much obeisance they may require of those they rule; and, That God has the final authority over life, declaring a definitive 'Yes!' to life everlasting through Jesus Christ our Lord.

What makes Good Friday 'good' has nothing to do with what humanity does, but has everything to do with what God is actively doing through Jesus Christ and in the power of the Holy Spirit that all people might know the fullness of life in God's Love. What makes Good Friday 'good' is that Jesus shows us the way home in faithfulness, that death in this world has no power over us. What makes Good Friday 'good' is God. All else is superfluous.

Others may give the goodness of Good Friday finer language and be able to cite chapter and verse in defense of their stance, but when I am asked all I can offer is my faith . . . and to be found in Jesus is all that I can hope on Good Friday. That is what makes Good Friday 'good' for me.

Have a blessed journey with Jesus on this Good Friday

Maundy Thursday Thoughts

A story of irony and power . . .

As Jesus gathered his disciples together to share a meal the night before the festival of Passover, he took off his outer robe, tied a towel around himself, poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet. (John 13.2b-5) Faithfulness makes itself known this night, not in taking a place at the table but, in humbly bowing before another in service, taking on the most lowly of tasks in the washing of feet.

Today's Christian community is often more focused on the fuzzy 'good feeling' we get from saying, "Maundy Thursday is about Jesus giving the disciples a new commandment, 'Love one another'.", but the truth of the matter is this: Before Jesus speaks a word about 'love', he preaches a sermon on servanthood. The Christian community whose credo does not include the towel of servanthood, but focuses on the Last Supper and a New Commandment, has missed the heart of what happens that fateful night and, consequently, started about three feet too high. Jesus washed feet first then said, "Do you know what I have done to you? You call me Teacher and Lord - and you are right, for that is what I am. So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also out to wash one another's feet." (John 13:12b-14)

Uniquely from the context of One who has washed the feet of others, then, does that same One feed others with Body and Blood and give a new Commandment. From that same context, then, what does it mean for the One who washes feet to be silent before the authorities? What does it mean for the One who washes feet to take on the lashes and brutality of betrayal? What does it mean for the One who washes feet to carry a cross to Golgotha? What does it mean for the One who washes feet to be hung by nails upon that cross? What does it mean for the One who washes feet to give up his Spirit and die?

Such a new Commandment has a context - and a price, for not all the world wants to wash the feet of others. Not all the world desires to be embraced by the Relational God. Not all the world prefers the towel of Servanthood . . . and waits eagerly to crucify anyone who does.The good news of the Gospel is this: The Kingdom of heaven has come near.

Do you embrace it as Jesus proclaims it? Or sterilize it to fit your comfort level? The answer is in the distance between where one kneels down to serve and where another sits, waiting to be served.

A blessed Maundy Thursday to all.

Lilac Days

The pungent aroma of blooming lilacs is highly irresistible to me, especially as I walk by them. I can't help but stop and breathe in the sweetness of their fragrance, so profound is their effect. Captivating, scintillating and mesmerizing are the lilac's pink and blue flowers, hearkening me back to a more innocent day . . .

Just outside the kitchen door of my boyhood home once stood a giant lilac bush which towered eight feet tall and had a base somewhere around four feet in diameter. Carved into the base of the lilac bush was a crescent moon shape, carefully dug and maintained there by generations of farm dogs who found that spot the coolest place to lay on a hot Summer day. Just as carefully formed around the outside of the lilac bush were the nesting spots of many of our farm cats who found the shade of the lilac too tempting to pass, even though the dogs were resting inside the bush. That bush may have been the one place on the farm all the animals understood to be a demilitarized zone, so sacred was the comfort found there.

Bursting out the door after breakfast, dinner or supper in the Springtime as a young boy, I was guaranteed the headiness of entering into a bouquet of God's creative abilities, the likes of which words are inadequate to describe. The aroma of the blooming lilac drifted over and through all the other smells an active dairy farm had to offer, demanding one's attention and appreciation at every turn. So powerful the smell, so deep the response even then, I am lifted on the wings of memory to those moments and the joy the blooming lilac evoked in me, still.

We have two Korean miniature lilacs blooming in our yard this Spring and I am ever so grateful to have them there, though our passing neighbors must think me an eccentric because of them: I cannot pass by them without stopping to lift their gentle blooms to breathe in the undiluted majesty of their gift to me, as though God created them just for me. They take me home to Mom and Dad. They take me back to a more uncomplicated time in my life. They take me back to simpler days with my brothers. They convey me to a time when my grandfather's both lived with us and loved the lilac, too. They transport me to a time when dogs and cats waited in the shade of the lilac just outside that kitchen door for the scraps which came from our table. They move my spirit to a gentle remembering . . . and I am ever so grateful.

I do not want to go back to those days, yet am intensely appreciative of the meaning they still carry for me in my life today - and the lilac is sign and symbol of that fluid journey ongoing in my senses. I am amazed, still, in the capacity of the blooming lilac to do such wonders, to induce such reactions, to demand such devotion in me. But, is that not the gift of our senses? To remember that which pleases? To ponder that which blesses? And, to stay away from that which does neither?

Holy Week is God's lilac to us all. Find your comfort in both its' presence and memory, living not to go back to those days but, in remembering, being ready to live into the profound awe God has in store for you. Stop, and breathe in God's lilac love, a healing gift through Christ for us all.

It's Over

It's over. Done. Kaput.

On April 2, 2012 March Madness was finished. That Kentucky beat Kansas didn't help. I don't dislike Kentucky, I just like Kansas more. Kansas was the underdog - and Kansas was the school our middle son, Raymond, chose to attend to try for their singular walk-on spot not so many years ago. He made it to the final three. It was Roy Williams last year there and Coach told Ray that he was six inches too short and that he couldn't coach height . . . but that's another story for another time.

March Madness is over. This High School and College basketball season is history. Now there is only the professional golf tour, the Masters, the Olympics and professional baseball to occupy time and space until next Fall when, once again, hope and sanity return in the advent of another basketball season. Until then . . . well, until then the world just has to make do, quietly waiting and counting off the days until the next tip-off which signals the return of normalcy in the universe. It's over. Done. Kaput.

And, if I can feel so about a game, how much more did the disciples feel so about Jesus' ministry as He hung on a cross? They had so believed that Jesus would win, that He would triumph, that the Underdog would prevail against the powers-that-be. They had so enjoyed watching Him interact with those around Him, watching Him make short work of the Pharisee's, Scribe's, and Sadducee's. The disciples were amazed at Jesus' capacity to transform a life which seemed irreparably lost into one which made the standing-room-only capacity crowds roar with wonder. They were in awe of His care for the little one's who came to see Him, for those who had nothing to offer Him other than their love and devotion. The disciples were deeply vested in Jesus' season. So, as it came to an abrupt end and the madness quieted into a distant din, were they they one's who sat on the gym floor weeping? Were they the one's who couldn't talk to the press because their emotions got the best of them? Were they the one's who watched the monitor from the tightly closed locker room as the victor claimed the spoils of war?

We will never know for there is, truly, nothing in this world with which to compare the moment, other than the words, "It's over."

Basketball seasons come and go, but Jesus comes and goes on forever. What we see in these days is the prelude for what is to come, but see it we must. For Easter means little if you don't deeply understand, "It's over." Touch the mourning of these moments, but don't get lost in them. A new season is about to emerge. The Underdog has one last thing to show us just as we think the game is over. Keep your eyes open wide, the Game is now just beginning.

Thoughts from an Early Garden

The potatoes are nearly all out of the ground and most are a few inches tall. I have planted four rows (two varieties) of sweet corn, five rows (two varieties) of green beans, eight cabbage plants, eight cauliflower plants, twelve (three varieties) tomato plants, twelve (three varieties) pepper plants, four cucumber plants, four zucchini plants, and five mounds of acorn squash seeds. Additionally, I have two more varieties of tomato plants and two more varieties of pepper plants which are too small to plant outside yet, but are waiting in the wings to be planted in the next two to three weeks. Am I pushing the gardening season?

"I'm not sure," is my calm response as I sit munching on freshly pulled red radishes while trying to decide how much lettuce to cut for supper, "but I'm fairly certain that I have never put a garden out this early before." Sometimes conventional wisdom doesn't fit contemporary circumstances. Sometimes you just have to risk doing things differently. Sometimes you go and do when others urge to sit and wait. What is never risked is never gained. What is never tried will never be known. Sometimes you are the head of the nail . . . and sometimes you are the point.

Wondering how to get the attention and devotion of the very creation God breathed into being, just as God was about to try again to pierce through their hardness of heart, God wondered, "Am I pushing my love for them too hard?" . . . and in Bethlehem a Child was born to Mary . . . and in the Jordan John baptized a Savior . . . and by the Sea of Galilee, like once upon a mountain, a Teacher spoke to the thousands . . . and through the East Gate the Christ rode into Jerusalem upon a foal . . . and in an upper room a Friend said, "My Body", "My Blood" . . . and on trial the Paschal Lamb said nothing at all . . . and on the cross the anticipated Messiah said, "Father, forgive them" . . . and from a tomb known for containing death, there comes shouts of joy, "He is risen!"

"I'm not sure," is God's calm response, "but I'm fairly certain that my people have never seen it done this way before." Sometimes conventional wisdom doesn't fit contemporary circumstances. Sometimes you just have to risk doing things differently. Sometimes you go and do when others urge to sit and wait. What is never risked is never gained. What is never tried will never be known.

Sometimes you are the head of the nail . . . and sometimes you are the point.

On this Holy Week journey with Jesus, ponder deeply God's love for you. What is happening, what is being undertaken, what is being risked may not make sense at all in the current climate yet, then again, sometimes new things have a way of changing our hearts. Sometimes the nail saves.

Amazing, the things you can learn from the garden.