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.

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.

Good Friday

I just returned from the Community Good Friday Stations of the Cross service which was attended by approximately 30 people. Granted, it was raining, and there was visitation for a prominent woman of the town who had died, and there was a funeral for another gentleman of the community who had died, and some were at yet another funeral of the father of a woman in town, and the firemen in town host a fish fry on Good Friday evening each year and were getting ready for the fry - but, I know there were not 3,500 people at all of the other events. There were 30 people who attended the Community Good Friday Stations of the Cross. 30 people.

Yet, it was in the midst of the 30 people, in the midst of the liturgy, in the midst of the "O Sacred Head Now Wounded", that it occurred to me that this Good Friday was very much like that first Good Friday on which Jesus was crucified: People were dying and dead; People were going to visitations and funerals; fund-raisers were going on around Jerusalem; market places were open and people were buying and selling; visitors to town had absolutely no idea of what was going on; and others chose just to stay at home and ignore the hubbub of the crowds. What is a 'really big thing' to devoted Christians - is just another day in the life of the world for everyone else. Jesus on the cross is pivotal only to those who recognize their need for His deliverance. Jesus on the cross is central only to the existence of those whose life and soul are intertwined with God's own will and desire for humankind. To all others . . . it is just another day in the city. Though they may all show up in three days for Sunrise Services, what already is gone is the moment which gives birth to Easter.

In retrospect, 30 people at the cross on Good Friday probably isn't such a bad turnout. Lord only knows how many others have turned and gone away from such a scene through all the intervening years. Maybe thirty is the new holy number this year, for 30 dared to stay. It is something to ponder as, in writing this article, the clock strikes 3:00 pm, the ninth hour.

Your servant in Christ,

Pastor Don

Trained to Save

Nine of us spent a couple of hours training yesterday, updating our CPR and AED accreditation, keeping current in the skills helpful in saving lives. It was an afternoon which flew by quickly, partly because the material being covered and the skills being practiced kept all of us focused, but, mostly, because our trainer was interesting, fun-loving, and supportive of our efforts. Our trainer, Bobbie Duffie, is one of God's very special servants, possessing a smile so warm it is believed to contribute to global warming, and with a command of knowledge and application of wisdom that allows her to give great hope in a very troubled world.

When Bobbie walks into a room as an instructor, it is clear that she does not see 'students' in the conventional sense of the word, she sees 'life'. Bobbie has the unique capacity to see beyond young/old, rich/poor, black/white, male/female, large/small - and articulate that vision in her partnering with others to bring life to people and places in the throes of struggle. Bobbie sees God at work in God's children and embodies that insight in her approach to training: God blesses each woman, man and child with unique gifts in differing packages and it is her blessing to help folks to unwrap their giftedness for the sake of others. Is it a wonder students gravitate towards her, that people seek her out, that her life is rooted in medicine and training, that God's Life in her becomes her life breathed out into others?

It got me to thinking about Jesus as he rode into Jerusalem on the foal of an ass, as prophesied in Zechariah 9.9, and what it was that He saw as folks welcomed Him into town. Would those who loved His smile as He welcomed the children into His lap, also love the things He was about to teach them about faithfulness to God? Would those who considered themselves 'privileged' to be His chosen disciples still be so 'up' on the notion after they saw what those who hated Him would do in the days ahead? Would the ones who came running to Him for healing and insight as He walked into their villages and towns, still be running towards Him as He is is lead out of town with a cross upon His back? Would the ones who were quick to ask Him for life to be restored, be equally as quick to restore His life when once Pilate asked them who to save and whom to condemn? Would those who loved Him for His works as He touched them, still love Him for His works when the world crucified Him as untouchable?

Central to understanding Jesus as Son of God is the old cliche, "He is comfortable in His skin." 'Jesus is comfortable in His skin' is more than some erudite saying, it is the truth of His very identity: He is comfortable as God's Son, which is His only mission. He is to live in full relationship with God, no matter where He is, no matter with whom He comes in contact, no matter their response. To live so boldly and comfortably is to live the faith God has in us to walk in fullness of covenant with God. How others receive His comfort, how others receive His skin, is their choosing. Some will nail His comfort and skin to a cross, others will partake of Him and choose to walk with Him.

In comparison, CPR and AED training is seemingly far simpler, yet, upon further review, equally daunting. Bobbie embodies in training what Jesus teaches us in entering Jerusalem: You cannot be anyone else except who God created you to be. All else and all others are beyond your control. Do what you are gifted to do. As Jesus taught those with eyes to see and ears to hear what is faithful and just in walking the walk of faith before God, even unto death upon a cross, so Bobbie has been blessed to teach others how to give life when death looms near. The one major difference: It is Jesus' life which gives Life eternal. His skin given for all. Bobbie knows that and lives her life pointing to His. Maybe that is why she is so effective as a trainer: She is comfortable in her skin, living for His Life that others may have life.

It is amazing what God can do with a good teacher, especially when they live for the Teacher.

Your servant in Christ,

Pastor Don

Good Friday

On this Maundy Thursday, as Jesus gathers with His disciples in an upper room, washes their feet, breaks bread and pours wine that is blessed to become new in His presence, I wonder: What does the face of betrayal look like? Is the face of betrayal dark and foreboding? Is it pock-marked with dis-ease and struggle? Does the face of betrayal glint like steel or is it gray like rock and cold with calculation? Does the face of betrayal catch the shimmering rays of candlelight and dull them, even deaden them, with dread? What does the face of betrayal look like?

And what of the face of denial? Is it the face of innocence that will simply never understand? Is it the face of the well-meaning, good-intentioned companion who, like the seed scattered upon the rocks is there one moment and gone the next? Is denial the ill-timed nervous laughter in the corner escaping at the precise moment the Master tries to explain why He is washing their feet? Is it the blank stare the never sees or the muted ears that never hear? Is the face of denial the one first to cry out allegiance, so anxious to be found worthy, yet so unprepared to stand? Is the face of denial the one that seems always to be looking around to see who is watching, worried who might notice their presence, figuring the distance to the doors? Is the face of denial in the one who encourages you to do everything the way they would do it, if ever in fact they ever did it? What does the face of denial look like?

As Jesus looks around the room on this night watching His disciples eat, listening to their stories, hearing their laughter, feeling their hands upon His shoulders in brotherly love . . . As the surreal nature of the moment deepens in His heart, He teaches us that the face of betrayal, as with the face of denial, most often is the very face of those most near to us. Can someone who knows us not at all really betray us? Can someone who has never shared a moment with us ever really deny us? No. It is only those who are closest to our souls who have the power to claim or betray, to stay or deny. It is only those who are closest to our lives who have the capacity to tear out our heart without ever making an incision. It is only those who are closest to our being who have the opportunity to make the decision: stand with or stand against; protect or betray. That is why it is betrayal; That is why it is denial: Because it comes not from someone outside, it comes from within. The face of betrayal, as the face of denial, is the face of a friend who shatters the bonds of trust with the kiss of death.

He sees their faces, even as He sees our own, yet in His face will be seen neither betrayal, nor denial. He is our Brother, He is our Friend, He is our Lord, He is our Master, He is our Savior, He is the Christ. To betray us would be to betray His own soul, to deny us would be to deny His own Being. So He leads us to the garden and as He prays for us we dissolve into the night, the burden of our faces etched into His mind, the weight of our choices upon His shoulders . . . and He turned not away from those who would smite Him, for He would not turn away from us.

Whose face does He see in you this night?

Your servant in Christ,

Pastor Don

The Night Before

It is the night before the day of the Last Supper and, as I walk through the darkened sanctuary after making final preparations for Maundy Thursday Service, I pause before the cross.

What was it that Jesus was thinking that night before? Knowing what was going to happen, knowing who He would have prepare the upper room, knowing that He would celebrate the Passover feast a night before anyone else? What was Jesus pondering as He recalled that first Passover and the lamb which was slaughtered for every household, as He recited the passages about the blood of the lamb being placed on the doorposts of every Jewish home, as He pictured them sitting down as a family to eat the roasted lamb, being careful not to leave anything that was not consumed or burned? What sort of images crossed the mind of the Living Word as He lamented the death of the firstborn in every non-Israelites household and the depth of the cost of Israels freedom?

What was Jesus thinking as He wandered among His sleeping disciples, their laughter and certainty about life and ministry quieted by the stillness of the moment? How long did He look into each of their faces, remembering their questions, feeling their handshakes, lingering on their innocence? What thoughts paraded through His mind that night as He remembered the Palm Sunday revelers, His disciples among them, welcoming Him with joy . . . knowing that many of them would call for His death? What did Jesus ponder as He paused to look into Judas' face and considered the coming betrayal? Where did His mind wander as He stopped by Peter, laughing to Himself about Peter's boldness and aware of his impending denials?

What was He thinking about His mother and her life and all that she had seen and pondered in her heart? How could He protect her? Who would stand with her? Who would take care of her? And what of Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James and Joseph, and Salome? Who would dry their tears and calm their grief as they waited?

How deep was Jesus' conversation with God that night before the day He was betrayed? How long did He pray for you and me, that it would all make a difference? That maybe, somehow, we would 'get it' and be willing to follow? What was it that Jesus was thinking that night before?

Standing below the cross in a darkened sanctuary the night before Maundy Thursday is fraught with unanswered questions but, of this one thing I am sure: However hard the journey before Him, however deeply connected to the joy of the ministry He had shared, however intimately tied His heart with those who called Him 'friend', the Lamb did not turn away from the Passover Feast.

The night before, He looked deeply into our souls and moved forward in faithfulness and love. I pray the courage and faith for us all to walk with Him into the tomorrow of God's Passion for all creation.

Your servant in Christ,

Pastor Don

Interviewing Is Hard Work

How do you describe what happens daily in a Church Office to someone who has rarely spent any time in one? We have a job description for the Office Manager we are seeking, but there is oft-times a great deal of disparity between what the job is perceived to be and what it actually is. Communicating the disparity in an interview, without scaring the candidates away, is hard work . . . kind of like describing to the disciples what it means to be the Savior without them having a context to understand it.

How hard was it for Jesus to explain the disparity between what people wanted the Savior to be and what He knew it meant? How many times did Jesus sweat blood over them (and us?) getting it right, or at least coming to some sort of understanding? Maybe that is exactly why He had to show us in terms of steadfast faithfulness to God in the midst of chaotic human expectations. His choice to walk in faithfulness, even unto death, is the visual bridging of the disparity between what we want a Savior to be and what the Savior must be. We wanted a political deliverer who would do the work for us - and then allow us to share the glory without having to bear the pain, and He became a Deliverer who endured the pain that we might have faith to continue the work through Him for all time.

Embodying the disparity between expectation and reality is hard work, yet it is in this week which is before us, Holy Week, that we come face to face with what the job description says . . . and what God intends the ministry to be in being the Savior of humankind. I am grateful that Jesus takes the time with me to explain in Body and Blood what it means to be Savior and I will strive in the days ahead to allow His call in my life to guide my steps in following His example. I only pray it carries over in the ordinariness of the everyday life, in the things of which I am a part, like hiring an Office Manager. The standard He sets is the faith we claim: Now, to live it with the integrity He teaches, as well.

Your servant in Christ,

Pastor Don