Thoughts on the Farmers Among Us

Driving through the country on my way to a hospital this afternoon, the mounting heat combined with the ongoing dry conditions in our region left me feeling really worried for the farmers. The corn is starting to whorl and the beans are looking a sickly lime green. Dust-devils spin their way through acres of field and pastures, giving the sky the tannish-hue of baby poop. The birds are perched in shaded protection, leaving only the occasional Turkey Vulture to scout the roads for a wayside buffet. Livestock are seeking out the remaining mud puddles of winding creeks and watering trough overflows. Even the barnyard dogs have left their watchful positions, seeking the cool earth underneath hibiscus plants and grape arbors.

It is a worrisome time for those who have invested so much to feed so many and, despite the very best of varieties and tillage practices, still find their gaze lingering on the sun drenched skies, piercing the blue for the prayer of a cloud bank. It is as if a faucet has been turned off. Those who have never farmed will never fully understand the intimate connectedness of a farmer's hand with that of God in tending to all of God's creation and, for those who deny either the connectedness or God . . . . well, they are denying even their own existence for wont of the 'logical' explanation.

The farmers I know are the true high priests of the faith, for they are constantly on bended knee before the One who calls them to labor mightily for the sake of the other. Theirs are the hands that feel the soil and know its worth, whether in need or in abundance. Theirs are the eyes that can scan the earth and see the vision of Eden proclaimed before them. Theirs are the ears which hear the most ancient of Voices call them to labor in the fields which were long before them and will survive long after them. Theirs are the taste buds which savor the wonder of a sprig of alfalfa in the same way they marvel at the first of tomatoes, the sweetness of new potatoes, and the humbling awe of grape jelly made from the sweat of their brow. Theirs is the sense of smell which can discern the ripeness of wheat, the warmth of the soil, the nearness of rain, and the majesty of country lilacs . . . all without having to take a step off the front porch of their home.

Farmers are the ones among us who should be the honored guests in every home, yet are most likely to be among the lowly who enter from the back door and settle at a seat in the kitchen, a glass of water or a cup of coffee their only request. Farmers rise with the emerging sun to meet the pressing need and are often found lingering on the smallest of chores long after the moon has claimed its spot in the sky. Farmers speak the liturgy of Body and Blood in the birthing of calves, their care for foaling, and their attention to lambing. Farmers baptize in water and Spirit all that is holy in the presence of God as they nurture the tenderest of shoots with the same passion and conviction as given to the tallest of trees and the broadest of fields. With sweat marked caps and grease spotted shirts and pants, farmers take on the yoke of Eternal Ordination unlike any the Church could ever know, for they are called and equipped for the highest of service in the feeding of God's children and the care of God's creation. No priestly stole is necessary, for the simple folded hands of a farmer in prayer are sign and seal to all who would observe that these are a special people in the sight of the One who sets them apart for service.

I have no doubt in these driest of days, God hears the voice of the farmers and will tend to their cries. There is a balm in Gilead and we, who so depend upon the faithfulness and labors of farmers, would do well to pray for them and with them in equal measure. The Service of Word and Sacrament begun in the Spring moves steadily towards the Benediction of Winter's lingering response. God bless us, everyone, in this life of worship, but especially the farmer, God's truly chosen and appointed servant.

Storm Cabbage

Two days ago, Nancy took a head of cabbage to my Dad's home and another to my brother's home, a 'sharing of the gifts', if you will. The heads of cabbage are nearly as big as bowling balls and are as sweet and thick as cabbages could hope to be, (said as modestly as a gardener might) some of the best we have ever raised and . . .

These heads of cabbage were the 'storm cabbages'. They were ravaged by the intense hail storm we had some weeks back and I was ready to pull them out and start over, so complete their 'destruction'. God's creation is simply remarkable in its capacity to regenerate and begin anew and we, you and I, are constantly invited to be witnesses to such a profound truth expressed in such organic a manner.

Which got me to thinking about the ways we threaten and coerce each other, not just globally, but also locally and even personally. Do we really believe that we hold such power over others and creation? Do we really believe that we are the 'master' of our fate and control the fate of others? Do we really believe that ours is the final voice that matters? Do we really believe that we can rain down the power of hail - or of bombs - or of legislation - or of special interests - or of political correctness - or of abusive relationships - or of isolationist self-interest, covering the ground, filling the sky, polluting the air . . . and our Creator God won't have the final word about the outcome?

The cabbage tastes good. Our 'storm cauliflower' was delicious. Our 'storm banana peppers' are incredible and our 'storm tomatoes' are not far away.

Perhaps we would be well served to study the world around us and ponder our place in the universe in considering our relationship with each other. We are not as big as we think, neither are we as determinant as we believe. If plants like cabbage, cauliflower, peppers and tomatoes can arise from their grave of hail and produce abundantly, what else might God be capable of despite us?

Just when we think we are at the top of the food chain . . . we find God already is. I love it . . . and pray you do, too.

Jesus Laughing

Humor is a gift of God and it is often the only thing that gets me through the tough stuff. I'm not talking about the profanity laced bits that fill our airwaves, burning our ears and searing our souls, no, I'm talking about the kinds of things that made true comedians like Bill Cosby and Jeff Foxworthy icons in our age. Everyday happenings, mixed in equal portions with irony, with a sprinkling of the 'wink of an eye', and you have the recipe for the kind of thing that will make me guffaw and nose snort for hours on end. Humor is a gift of God.

Jesus used it all the time. Remember when he was being tested about paying taxes and His reply was, "Bring me a denarius and let me see it.", then said to them, "Whose head is this, and whose title?" They responded, "The emperor's." Jesus responds (with a wink and nod, I think), "Give to the emperor the things that are the emperor's, and to God the things that are God's." Now that's great humor based on irony! Or the question raised with Him about the woman who married seven brothers, each after the one before them died, and having no children by any of them? They wanted to know whose wife she would be in the resurrection. Jesus' response left the crowds chuckling because they (and we?) assume heavenly orders are just like earthly experiences. (God, I hope not!) (Check it out in Mark 12:24-27) Or the time when the disciples left Jesus praying on one side of the lake and took off in a boat to the other side of the lake . . . and He came walking over the water to meet them? They were frightened and Jesus must have been giggling . . . they just didn't get it. (The movie, "Bruce Almighty", used this scene very effectively.)

Humor. Doesn't it make you wonder what God thinks about how seriously we take ourselves with all of our politically correct language and culturally correct clothing, while not giving two hoots about feeding the poor and clothing the naked and giving a drink to the thirsty and welcoming the stranger and sharing good news with the imprisoned?

In my office, on the wall directly in front of me, is a picture of Jesus Laughing. I see it every day and it reminds me that I am not always as right as I think I am, I'm not as pure as I want to be, I'm not as kind as I should be, and I'm not as certain as I put on, yet, in the midst of it all, it is God's grace which saves me, Christ's love which encompasses me, and the Spirit's Presence which guides me. God is the constant upon which my life should be built, not my self-assured arrogance. Jesus Laughs . . . and so should we. (I wonder how this would play in Rome?)

Maybe if we could learn to laugh a bit more at ourselves and trust the good-natured laughter of God, we could see the other more as friend and less as adversary - and, in so living, would point our lives to the One who is the Saving Joy for all to share.

Laugh with Jesus a bit today and see if it doesn't make a difference.

Moving On

It's time for my annual physical. Actually, it is past time, but why do today what can be put off till tomorrow? (Especially when what has to be done includes the drawing of blood!)

So, there I was at 7:00 this morning in the lab of the hospital with this really nice lady looking down her nose at my blood draw order muttering out loud, "Well, you put this off as long as you could." What did she want me to say? Something like, 'Well, you know, I am a man' or 'I would have put it off longer had I known how put out you would be' or even, 'Had it not been for my doctor requiring it, I would have waited for the mortician to handle it'? But, no, Christian that I am and guilty as charged, I simply relied on the obvious, "Have you been talking with my wife? Because she said the same thing to me just the other day.", which brought a smile to her face and prompted her to say, "When it comes to dealing with men, we women all work from the same handbook . . . . and you will never get a copy of it!" Great retort, ice broken, tension defused, guilt assuaged, and nerves relaxed.

I really do not like having blood drawn and, I think, with good reason: Several years ago, while giving blood at a Red Cross event, the nurse tending to me groused a bit about how slowly I was pumping blood into the bag so, to increase the rate of flow, she adjusted the needle in my arm, not once, not twice, but three times. After the last time, I asked her to take the needle out of my arm, moved to the snack table and promptly passed out. Do you have any idea how much chewing gum is stuck to the bottom side of most serving tables? A lot! And that was the first thing which registered in my mind as I came to.

The nurse was really nice about it at this point. Not wanting to have any culpability in what had just transpired, she suggested that maybe I would be better served at the next blood drive to make sandwiches instead of give blood. Thus, my dilemma with any kind of a blood draw . . . I immediately go to the refrigerator for solace to calm my mounting nerves, wanting to prepare a sandwich rather than contemplate researching the amount of chewing gum on the bottom of tables. Is it any wonder that I wait as long as I can to have a physical?

Ah, but isn't this what we do to God all the time? God offers us peace in relationship, extends healing in our broken living, redeems life from death, and all that we can think about is the hurt we experienced one time or another at the hands of one of God's 'helpers'. We allow a bad experience in one worship setting to become the excuse for not becoming a part of any worship family. In harboring resentment towards another person, our spiritual well-being and our relationship with God falls victim to neglect. And the biggest loser? Ourselves, for we have abdicated responsibility for our life, our health and our love in God to the hands of another, which is way too sad.

Those who really know me and know my story lovingly cajole me about being a woosie when it comes to giving blood. Maybe they are right. All that I know is that, if I stop and think about it, I can still remember the feeling of that needle being moved around in my arm and the subsequent aftermath. I can still remember . . . .

The lady who drew my blood today was a pro. I never felt a thing, not even a sting. Perhaps it's time to start forming new memories and stop allowing the past to hold me and my health hostage. Perhaps it's time to live the present moment with the confidence of one not bound by the behaviors of others. How about you?

It's Sunday

It's Sunday.


"I don't want to go to church. I don't have to go to church. You can't make me go to church. I have better things to do than go to church."

"Dad, what do you mean, 'Am I a Christian?' Of course, I'm a Christian! I've been baptized, I've made First Communion, I've been Confirmed, and whenever something happens in our family I know that the church is the first place I can go. But, that doesn't mean I have to go to church on Sunday. After all, sitting in a church no more makes me a Christian than sitting in a garage makes me a car."

"Mom, yes, even I take really good care of my car. In fact, that's one of the things I want to do today: I'm going to wax my car. If I go to church, I won't have time to wax my car. And, yes, I do regularly change the oil, make sure the coolant is right and check the transmission fluid, all because I don't want my car to break down. But, how will I get that done if I spend all my Sunday mornings in church?

"No, my car doesn't mean more to me than my life. I just want to take care of it. I just want to make sure all my friends know that what matters to me has my attention. I just want to make sure my investment lasts . . . . . ."

. . . .which is precisely why God invited you to worship today: to make sure God's investment in you lasts.

It's Sunday.

Which is worth more? Your car or your life?

Pray to see you in church . . . to wipe away the dullness of broken living, to top off the essential fluids of God's Word to guide you in your days, and to fill you with the Sacraments to strengthen your daily journey. Make sure God's investment in you lasts.

It's Sunday. Where will God find you today?

Atheists and Gardens

A friend of mine poses the question, "Can you be a gardener and an atheist at the same time?" This question arose out of, both, her obvious enjoyment of gardening and her sense of connectedness to a Creator God.

As I pondered her question, the thought occurred to me that, "Yes, you can be a gardener and an atheist at the same time." Here's why: An atheist believes there is no God. Yet, what atheist's don't understand is that God doesn't deny their existence. That is called, 'free will'. The atheist has free will not to believe in God and God has free will to know and love the atheist anyway . . . which must just burn the atheist's butt on a regular basis!

God didn't send Jesus to save the faithful, the healthy don't need the physician. God sent Jesus (and those who subsequently follow Him and bear His name) to live in faithfulness in the midst of a world that doesn't know or love God. The atheist plants his/her garden, the rains water it, it grows and produces abundantly, and the atheist thinks, "I am god. Look what I've done." God sees the planting, observes the labors of one of God's children, sends the rain in due time, the plants thrive, the garden is harvested, and, even as there is no acknowledgment of God's part in all this, God smiles when God's children are fed, regardless of what the children believe or think. God knows who is God and can only act as God. God is not dependent upon our recognition or approval that God is God, even when we deny God in the garden. Oddly enough, isn't that where Judas betrayed Jesus and Jesus' disciples denied Him as they ran away? In the Garden of Gethsemane?

We are who we are and we believe what we believe, even when in the garden, but, God is always God . . . . and it rains on the just and unjust alike precisely because God is God. Atheist's may garden and atheist's may deny the existence of God . . . but thank God that God never denies either us or our gardens! For if we were cared for by God only on the basis of our faith, how hungry would our world be?

The real shame of the atheist gardener? They will never see or understand true Love that claims them fully, always, even in the garden of their discontent . . . . which doesn't make those who have faith in God 'better', it just makes God's choice to be steadfast in love more dynamic and profound. The atheist's loss, the believer's gain, God's ongoing grace . . . all revealed in a question about a garden.

Have a blessed day in the garden of God's goodness to you!

Life Happens

Life happens.

Let me explain: I firmly believe that each of us is a gift of God, whose final sum journey is inconceivable to consider from its beginning. Yet, it is in the course of those days which we name as 'life', that we encounter the life journey of others and from those encounters, some chance, some intended, we experience that which 'happens'.

Life happens.

Birth happens, growth happens, language happens, family relationships happen, community relationships happen, education happens, world events happen, economic events happen, and intimate relationships happen. On a more focused scale, love happens, anger happens, prejudice happens, hatred happens, division happens, unity happens, connectedness happens, teamwork happens, vision happens, dreams happen, and completeness happens. And, in the midst of all that happens in life are the accidents, the stumbles, the inadvertent words, the pain in the patooties, the recalcitrant children, the unheeding parents, the nosey neighbors, and the effects of all sorts of ongoing wars, both global and local.

Life happens.

Which is exactly where God meets us in Jesus Christ . . . where life happens. There is nothing inside or outside of your life beyond the presence of God. As life happens to you, God is with you in the happenings. God does not inflict you or test you or see how much of life's happenings you can stand . . . that is not the God we come to know in Jesus. God is with you in your leprosy, in your challenge, in your oppression, in your hope to lead, in your fall from grace, in your standing up and in lying down, in your betrayal, in your trial, and in your crucifixion. God is with you as life happens because, from the very beginning of time, God has wanted nothing more than to share the happenings of life with you - and when that happens, Life Really Happens. The tomb is empty. Death is defeated. All that this world can cause in your life to happen gives way to what God Happens.

Life happens. Have faith in the midst of it all, for the fullness of joy this world cannot see or know awaits those who dare to trust that God Happens Always. That is the Kingdom, that is Eternity, that is the truest of Love. God Happens Always. Always has. Always is. Always will be.

Allow your life to happen in God today.