Merry Christmas!
I don't know about you, but I have felt different this Christmas season. Maybe its the state of the economy, the stress that everyone seems to be under. Or maybe I feel differently because of what happened to our tree this year.
We bought a large tree, much taller than our normal tree. We thought that we could place it by our staircase. All three of my boys liked the idea of a big tree, even my husband JD was OK with it. It took us hours to decorate.
I was sitting in the kitchen resting for a moment on Christmas Eve morning, when I saw it happen. The tree just slowly began to fall. I felt like I was watching in slow motion as the thing crashed to the ground, 0rnaments smashing and scattering, water everywhere.
I hollered at the boys to come help. Max, my littlest one, saw the mess and said, "Mom! Is Christmas over now?"
His comment made me so mad that I picked up the whole tree and stood it upright again. I don't know how I did that. I remember yelling as I lifted it. Bionic Momma- that's what I became in that moment. I couldn't stand to see the look on Max's face as he asked that question. It was scary to me that my son thought Christmas was about the tree and the trappings.
But we all tend to link Christmas with stuff. Christmas means shopping. Christmas means new stuff wrapped in packages. Christmas is supposed to be this perfect day, idyllic in fact- that's what the commercials tell us. In fact, we pile our expectations of Christmas so high that they are bound to come down crashing.
A lady I know went to the Post Office a month ago to order Christmas stamps. They asked her what kind of stamp she'd like and she said, "I'd like stamps of the Madonna, please." The young woman behind the counter replied, "Ma'am, we don't carry stamps of people that haven't died yet and Madonna is still performing."
What is happening to us? Have we completely forgotten what Christmas is about?
Christmas is about something that hits you in the gut, something so incredible that it can only be caught in glimpses.
I caught a glimpse of Christmas years ago when I went to visit the home of a man who had been diagnosed with cancer. He was about to undergo radical chemotherapy. He was a tall, handsome man with a head of majestic white hair. When I came, he was sitting in his bedroom with his thirty-year-old son.
"Kate," he said. "I can't stand to watch my hair fall out, so I'm just going to shave it. Will you come with me?"
I followed him into the bathroom. He sat down at the vanity and began to shear off his beautiful white hair. His son stood in the doorway, tears streaming down his face. Then his son said, "Wait! Dad, just wait a minute!"
His son went somewhere, I guess to his suitcase and came back with another razer in his hand. He stood directly behind his father in front of the mirror and began to shave his own head.
"You shave, I shave." He said.
When his father protested, the young man said, "Look, Dad. I can't make this better for you. I can't take away your pain. But I can be there with you, every step of the way. So, you shave-I shave."
That's what Christmas is about. God saw us suffering in a world that is broken of our own disobedience. God could not fix the world for us, for we would learn nothing and we would not be free. So God came, just to be with us.
God shaved down to the form of a tiny baby, born in one of the most violent parts of the world, born to a couple who had no place to sleep, born in the dirt of a cave where they kept the animals.
Have you ever noticed that when someone you love is suffering, giving advice doesn't work? Trying to fix others problems usually backfires. But you can be there. You can just be there with them, and somehow, miraculously, that seems to help.
Remember what Christmas is really about. It is about God saying to us.
"I am here."
And once Jesus came, He never really left. He's always been with us, in one form or another. Didn't Jesus himself say it at the end of the Gospel of Matthew, Lo I am with you always, even to the end of the age.
Once you realize that Jesus is here, it hits you right in the gut. And you realize that you are never, ever alone.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Thursday, December 18, 2008
The Lost Season
My father phoned last week. He is a member of an Episcopal Church in Pennsylvania. The priest asked him to teach a class on the signs and symbols of Advent. He completed the power-point presentation for his class, and then called to run it by me.
“I have this beautiful presentation of all the elements of the nativity: the crèche, the shepherds, the wise men…How does it sound?”
“Terrible, Dad!”
“What, why??”
“Dad, did they ask you to teach on the signs and symbols of ADVENT or the signs and symbols of CHRISTMAS?”
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then he asked, “Is there a difference?”
Advent is a lost season! Even my Dad, a faithful, active church member, doesn’t know about Advent. Why have we lost this season?
Advent is all about waiting and we Americans don’t like to wait. We march right out of Thanksgiving and parade right on into the Christmas celebration. The stores are stocked with Christmas gifts and Christmas carols blare just one day after Thanksgiving. By the time the day of Christ’s birth arrives, we are all sick of it.
Advent is a season in which we wait and watch for Christ, not just to remember the birth of Jesus two thousand years ago, but more importantly, to wait for the coming of Christ. You see, according to Scripture, this world will not last forever. And we must be ready when the end comes.
C.S. Lewis, in The Last Battle, has the end of the world coincide with the deaths of his characters. In other words, who can tell what the difference is between your death and the end of the world as you know it? Will there be a difference for you? Is there a difference for God? In God’s time, is there really a difference?
Whenever it happens, however it happens, we all need to be ready. When Christ comes for us, we need to look up, and welcome him. We need to say, “Oh! It’s You! I’ve been waiting for you!”
The purpose of this life is the purpose of Advent: to be ready to meet God. What could be more important than that? Shopping??
The loss of Advent is the loss of our perspective. We have forgotten who we are. We are children of God, waiting to come home.
“I have this beautiful presentation of all the elements of the nativity: the crèche, the shepherds, the wise men…How does it sound?”
“Terrible, Dad!”
“What, why??”
“Dad, did they ask you to teach on the signs and symbols of ADVENT or the signs and symbols of CHRISTMAS?”
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then he asked, “Is there a difference?”
Advent is a lost season! Even my Dad, a faithful, active church member, doesn’t know about Advent. Why have we lost this season?
Advent is all about waiting and we Americans don’t like to wait. We march right out of Thanksgiving and parade right on into the Christmas celebration. The stores are stocked with Christmas gifts and Christmas carols blare just one day after Thanksgiving. By the time the day of Christ’s birth arrives, we are all sick of it.
Advent is a season in which we wait and watch for Christ, not just to remember the birth of Jesus two thousand years ago, but more importantly, to wait for the coming of Christ. You see, according to Scripture, this world will not last forever. And we must be ready when the end comes.
C.S. Lewis, in The Last Battle, has the end of the world coincide with the deaths of his characters. In other words, who can tell what the difference is between your death and the end of the world as you know it? Will there be a difference for you? Is there a difference for God? In God’s time, is there really a difference?
Whenever it happens, however it happens, we all need to be ready. When Christ comes for us, we need to look up, and welcome him. We need to say, “Oh! It’s You! I’ve been waiting for you!”
The purpose of this life is the purpose of Advent: to be ready to meet God. What could be more important than that? Shopping??
The loss of Advent is the loss of our perspective. We have forgotten who we are. We are children of God, waiting to come home.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
In the Dark
Last night, I took the dog for a walk at 7:30 p.m. The sky was already dark, the stars bright. It was a beautiful, crisp night. It seems that the stars shine more brightly when the sky is an inky black. They stand out in contrast to the darkness.
I hate it when people don't come to church because they are struggling with something. I will not see someone for weeks, and when they return, I'll ask them if everything is OK. When they tell me that they didn't come to church because they felt depressed or sad, doubting or questioning, I get so frustrated! There is no better time to come to church than when you are down and out! How in the world have we come to believe that church is only for happy people or certain people? We are a community that is searching for Christ in the darkness and everyone is invited to search with us.
There is a parable that Jesus tells us about these bridesmaids that go out into the darkness to meet the bridegroom. In Jesus' day, it was customary for the women and girls who loved the bride to take their lanterns and go out at night, to search for the bridegroom in the darkness. When they found him, they would bring him back to the home of the bride, where there would be a great feast.
I can just picture these women, stepping out into the dark night, lanterns in their hands, searching in the darkness for the symbol of love itself, searching for the one who would enable them to celebrate life. But they could not start the celebration before stepping out into the darkness to look for him.
It strikes me that one of the best places to find Jesus is in the midst of the darkness, at the very center of our own pain and suffering. That is what the cross is about. That is why the Incarnation of God comes to us at the darkest part of the year, when the light is limited and our days are short. Christ comes in the darkness.
There is an amazing book that has been published recently. It is selling off bookshelves all across the country. It is called THE SHACK. The story is about McKenzie, a dad who loves his kids. He takes his three youngest on a camping trip. They have a great time, canoeing, pitching their tents, roasting marshmellows and lying on the ground watching the stars shining in the dark sky.
On the day that they are to return home, McKenzie's two older kids decided to go out in kayacks on the river. Mack and his little daughter, Missy, stay on shore. He watches the action on the water and she colors at a picnic table.
Mack's son capsizes. Mack watches intently. He does not see his son appear above the water, so he dives in and rescues his boy, who has somehow gotten his pants leg caught on something. When Mack finally gets his son above water, the boy is unconscious. Mack carries him to shore and does mouth-to-mouth until his boy coughs up water and begins to breathe. By this time Mack is crying with relief.
And then he looks up to find that his little daughter is missing. Frantically, he and his two other kids search the campsite. They alert the authorities. Someone reports seeing a man push a little girl into a truck.
The police search for days. They find Missy's body in an old, abandoned shack.
Mack enters what he comes to call The Great Sadness. He can no longer see color. He doesn't know what to think about God. He is lost. For three years, he lives in The Great Sadness.
And then he gets a letter in the mail. Come and meet me at the Shack, love God it says. Mack thinks that it may be the work of the murderer or some other quack, but he cannot stay away. He puts a shotgun in his car and goes to the shack.
When he walks in, he sees the blood stain on the carpet where his little girl died. He screams and screams, crying out his pain...
And God comes to McKenzie that day in the Shack. I will not spoil the book for you. I find all fictional depictions of God to be inadequate, but this is one of the least inadequate descriptions I have found. It is well worth reading.
My point is that Mack would not have encountered God if he had not been willing to go to the place of his greatest darkness, the place of his living nightmare. He found God in the darkness, and God fed him there.
If you are in the dark, please know that God wants you to come to church. Christians are not eternally happy, perfect people! We are full of doubts and despair just like everybody else. BUT WE LOOK FOR CHRIST IN THE DARKNESS. We seek Him. We long for Him.
I am looking for the coming of Christ. That is what we say as the days darken and Advent approaches. I am looking for the coming of Christ.
I hate it when people don't come to church because they are struggling with something. I will not see someone for weeks, and when they return, I'll ask them if everything is OK. When they tell me that they didn't come to church because they felt depressed or sad, doubting or questioning, I get so frustrated! There is no better time to come to church than when you are down and out! How in the world have we come to believe that church is only for happy people or certain people? We are a community that is searching for Christ in the darkness and everyone is invited to search with us.
There is a parable that Jesus tells us about these bridesmaids that go out into the darkness to meet the bridegroom. In Jesus' day, it was customary for the women and girls who loved the bride to take their lanterns and go out at night, to search for the bridegroom in the darkness. When they found him, they would bring him back to the home of the bride, where there would be a great feast.
I can just picture these women, stepping out into the dark night, lanterns in their hands, searching in the darkness for the symbol of love itself, searching for the one who would enable them to celebrate life. But they could not start the celebration before stepping out into the darkness to look for him.
It strikes me that one of the best places to find Jesus is in the midst of the darkness, at the very center of our own pain and suffering. That is what the cross is about. That is why the Incarnation of God comes to us at the darkest part of the year, when the light is limited and our days are short. Christ comes in the darkness.
There is an amazing book that has been published recently. It is selling off bookshelves all across the country. It is called THE SHACK. The story is about McKenzie, a dad who loves his kids. He takes his three youngest on a camping trip. They have a great time, canoeing, pitching their tents, roasting marshmellows and lying on the ground watching the stars shining in the dark sky.
On the day that they are to return home, McKenzie's two older kids decided to go out in kayacks on the river. Mack and his little daughter, Missy, stay on shore. He watches the action on the water and she colors at a picnic table.
Mack's son capsizes. Mack watches intently. He does not see his son appear above the water, so he dives in and rescues his boy, who has somehow gotten his pants leg caught on something. When Mack finally gets his son above water, the boy is unconscious. Mack carries him to shore and does mouth-to-mouth until his boy coughs up water and begins to breathe. By this time Mack is crying with relief.
And then he looks up to find that his little daughter is missing. Frantically, he and his two other kids search the campsite. They alert the authorities. Someone reports seeing a man push a little girl into a truck.
The police search for days. They find Missy's body in an old, abandoned shack.
Mack enters what he comes to call The Great Sadness. He can no longer see color. He doesn't know what to think about God. He is lost. For three years, he lives in The Great Sadness.
And then he gets a letter in the mail. Come and meet me at the Shack, love God it says. Mack thinks that it may be the work of the murderer or some other quack, but he cannot stay away. He puts a shotgun in his car and goes to the shack.
When he walks in, he sees the blood stain on the carpet where his little girl died. He screams and screams, crying out his pain...
And God comes to McKenzie that day in the Shack. I will not spoil the book for you. I find all fictional depictions of God to be inadequate, but this is one of the least inadequate descriptions I have found. It is well worth reading.
My point is that Mack would not have encountered God if he had not been willing to go to the place of his greatest darkness, the place of his living nightmare. He found God in the darkness, and God fed him there.
If you are in the dark, please know that God wants you to come to church. Christians are not eternally happy, perfect people! We are full of doubts and despair just like everybody else. BUT WE LOOK FOR CHRIST IN THE DARKNESS. We seek Him. We long for Him.
I am looking for the coming of Christ. That is what we say as the days darken and Advent approaches. I am looking for the coming of Christ.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Lazarus' Perspective
Do you get mad when people are late? I do.
My aunt Diana and my uncle Russell were always late. And not just late by a few minutes, late by four hours! We would expect a visit from them and they were once four hours late! So we waited and stewed and waited. And I’ll never forget the two of them barreling out of their station wagon, their two boys piling out behind them, full of smiles and candy and apologies. It was hard to stay mad at them because they were so much fun!
Jesus was late for Lazarus. He was intentionally late and not just by a few hours, but two days! They sent a messenger to him about Lazarus’ illness but he didn’t take off the moment that he heard. He waited. Of course, the disciples didn’t think that he should go at all. It was dangerous territory. The Jews were planning on stoning him if he returned to the area in and around Jerusalem and that’s where Lazarus lived, in Bethany, just a short walk from Jerusalem.
So Jesus alienates everyone. He ignores the advice of his disciples who don’t want to go into danger, and yet he waits to go, so that by the time he arrives Lazarus is dead and his sisters are distraught.
“If you were here, my brother would not have died!” Martha and Mary both say this. You can just see them, standing there with their hands on their hips, wild-eyes with exhaustion and anger. Where had Jesus been? Was he their friend or not?
But let’s think of this from Jesus’ perspective. He knew God. Or I should say, he knows God. For Jesus, eternal life is already here. Death is just a transition, a journey to another place, closer to God. Resurrection was within his very self.
So Jesus was not upset about Lazarus’ dying. He knew that Lazarus would be an occasion for a great miracle, to glorify God. And he knew that death was not the enemy.
But when he arrives at the home of his friends, Jesus becomes upset. He sees grief first hand. He sees fear and anger and abandonment in the eyes of some of his dearest friends. He sees the loneliness that comes when someone that you love leaves. He sees the depth of the human ignorance and fear that surrounds death and it is that darkness, it is that pain that makes him cry. He cries for us, for those who are left behind, not for the dead.
Diana and her family used to go skiing. Her husband and boys loved to go over a ski jump. It terrified Diana. She would describe the jump as if it were over a ten foot gorge. But when her boys and her husband arrived safely on the other side, and they dared her to follow, she would go. Racing down the mountain, she would scream all the way. And when she landed safely on the other side, she would hoot and holler.
They found a melanoma in Diana’s eye last year. By the time it was removed, it had spread. She died six months later.
I know that she made it over the gorge of death to be with Christ on the other side. I know that she whooped it up when she saw the beauty and majesty of the face of God. But her husband and her boys wept at her funeral. And I cried too. I cried for them, not for her. For she has Lazarus’ perspective now. Diana is fine. It is the rest of us who remain in pain, hoping and trusting that there is indeed something wonderful on the other side.
My aunt Diana and my uncle Russell were always late. And not just late by a few minutes, late by four hours! We would expect a visit from them and they were once four hours late! So we waited and stewed and waited. And I’ll never forget the two of them barreling out of their station wagon, their two boys piling out behind them, full of smiles and candy and apologies. It was hard to stay mad at them because they were so much fun!
Jesus was late for Lazarus. He was intentionally late and not just by a few hours, but two days! They sent a messenger to him about Lazarus’ illness but he didn’t take off the moment that he heard. He waited. Of course, the disciples didn’t think that he should go at all. It was dangerous territory. The Jews were planning on stoning him if he returned to the area in and around Jerusalem and that’s where Lazarus lived, in Bethany, just a short walk from Jerusalem.
So Jesus alienates everyone. He ignores the advice of his disciples who don’t want to go into danger, and yet he waits to go, so that by the time he arrives Lazarus is dead and his sisters are distraught.
“If you were here, my brother would not have died!” Martha and Mary both say this. You can just see them, standing there with their hands on their hips, wild-eyes with exhaustion and anger. Where had Jesus been? Was he their friend or not?
But let’s think of this from Jesus’ perspective. He knew God. Or I should say, he knows God. For Jesus, eternal life is already here. Death is just a transition, a journey to another place, closer to God. Resurrection was within his very self.
So Jesus was not upset about Lazarus’ dying. He knew that Lazarus would be an occasion for a great miracle, to glorify God. And he knew that death was not the enemy.
But when he arrives at the home of his friends, Jesus becomes upset. He sees grief first hand. He sees fear and anger and abandonment in the eyes of some of his dearest friends. He sees the loneliness that comes when someone that you love leaves. He sees the depth of the human ignorance and fear that surrounds death and it is that darkness, it is that pain that makes him cry. He cries for us, for those who are left behind, not for the dead.
Diana and her family used to go skiing. Her husband and boys loved to go over a ski jump. It terrified Diana. She would describe the jump as if it were over a ten foot gorge. But when her boys and her husband arrived safely on the other side, and they dared her to follow, she would go. Racing down the mountain, she would scream all the way. And when she landed safely on the other side, she would hoot and holler.
They found a melanoma in Diana’s eye last year. By the time it was removed, it had spread. She died six months later.
I know that she made it over the gorge of death to be with Christ on the other side. I know that she whooped it up when she saw the beauty and majesty of the face of God. But her husband and her boys wept at her funeral. And I cried too. I cried for them, not for her. For she has Lazarus’ perspective now. Diana is fine. It is the rest of us who remain in pain, hoping and trusting that there is indeed something wonderful on the other side.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
I AM: The Name of God
Moses was a murderer. He couldn’t control his temper when he saw one of his own people brutally beaten. He went out of his head and started hitting. Next thing he knew, the Egyptian was dead.
Moses was a hit and run. He saw the dead body and he knew that his life would be over if he did not flee. He ran away from everything and everyone he knew. He died to himself that day. And then he tried to start again.
Strange that God would speak to a man who had such a temper, a man who did not have the courage to face the music when he murdered, but who ran away and hid among the sheep of Midian. Strange that God would reveal the Divine Self to someone who messed up so badly. But then again, most of the saints of the Bible were wrecks before God came to them.
Moses turned aside when he saw the burning bush. He stopped what he was doing and he focused on the bush. He was willing to pause, to let the sheep wander off, to put his life on hold to witness this miracle and it was for that reason that God was able to speak to him.
When we do not turn aside from our own business, how can we hope to hear God’s voice?
God told Moses the Divine Name. I AM WHO I AM. It is the most mysterious, incredible fact that God could even get that name into words. The name of the maker of the Universe is something that cannot be contained.
I AM, not I WANT or I DO, but simply I AM.
If you want to experience the presence of God, you must awaken to the PRESENT MOMENT. There is no other place that God exists. When Jesus told us that the Kingdom of Heaven is near, he meant it. God dwells here and now, in this very moment, not in the past and not in the future.
The only way to find God is to just be.
Moses was a hit and run. He saw the dead body and he knew that his life would be over if he did not flee. He ran away from everything and everyone he knew. He died to himself that day. And then he tried to start again.
Strange that God would speak to a man who had such a temper, a man who did not have the courage to face the music when he murdered, but who ran away and hid among the sheep of Midian. Strange that God would reveal the Divine Self to someone who messed up so badly. But then again, most of the saints of the Bible were wrecks before God came to them.
Moses turned aside when he saw the burning bush. He stopped what he was doing and he focused on the bush. He was willing to pause, to let the sheep wander off, to put his life on hold to witness this miracle and it was for that reason that God was able to speak to him.
When we do not turn aside from our own business, how can we hope to hear God’s voice?
God told Moses the Divine Name. I AM WHO I AM. It is the most mysterious, incredible fact that God could even get that name into words. The name of the maker of the Universe is something that cannot be contained.
I AM, not I WANT or I DO, but simply I AM.
If you want to experience the presence of God, you must awaken to the PRESENT MOMENT. There is no other place that God exists. When Jesus told us that the Kingdom of Heaven is near, he meant it. God dwells here and now, in this very moment, not in the past and not in the future.
The only way to find God is to just be.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
About Sin
I sat in the office of my spiritual director. It took me years to find her. She is a Quaker with a PhD in spiritual direction and she is good.
I tell her about the darkness that I see, the way the people can’t stand it when you speak of money, the way that they actively undermine efforts to grow the church, the way that they hurt one another. I tell her about the brokenness.
“That is what you are supposed to see now,” she says. “When one begins to really pray, when one takes time alone with God and that time begins to shape your life, one of the first things that happens is that you open your eyes to the brokenness of the world around you. You see that we have fallen from God. And you see how hard it is to avoid sin.”
What in the world is SIN? It’s such an old word that it has lost much of its meaning. It has been stretched to accommodate so many varieties and nuances of our language that it is like an old bag, worn out and having almost no shape to it at all.
With most young people, I call our sin, our “issues.” That makes them perk up and nod. I can see the recognition before me. They know what it means to struggle with your issues, and everybody who is even the tiniest bit introspective knows that they have them. We all fall short of perfection. Simply go on a trip for two weeks with the person who you vow is perfect and they will show you their issues. Believe me, something will come out. It won’t take long.
Not only do we have issues, but the world itself is confused. After all, we all know that things don’t always work the way that they should. Most people, by the time that they reach adulthood, have felt acute pain, either emotionally or physically. Most have realized that the world isn’t fair. Most have found themselves wondering if this is how it is supposed to work. Most have realized that the course of their lives is not entirely for them to determine, and their lives might not look anything like the success stories that they see in the movies. Life is difficult. It doesn’t take much to see that.
Just like the Bible, sin must be constantly translated into the events of modern day. As we have progressed technologically, sin, like a virus, has adapted itself to our new mediums. It has come with us because it is a part of us. It is time for us know rename the word SIN. Maybe we need lots of words. Just because it changes constantly doesn't mean that it has gone away.
I tell her about the darkness that I see, the way the people can’t stand it when you speak of money, the way that they actively undermine efforts to grow the church, the way that they hurt one another. I tell her about the brokenness.
“That is what you are supposed to see now,” she says. “When one begins to really pray, when one takes time alone with God and that time begins to shape your life, one of the first things that happens is that you open your eyes to the brokenness of the world around you. You see that we have fallen from God. And you see how hard it is to avoid sin.”
What in the world is SIN? It’s such an old word that it has lost much of its meaning. It has been stretched to accommodate so many varieties and nuances of our language that it is like an old bag, worn out and having almost no shape to it at all.
With most young people, I call our sin, our “issues.” That makes them perk up and nod. I can see the recognition before me. They know what it means to struggle with your issues, and everybody who is even the tiniest bit introspective knows that they have them. We all fall short of perfection. Simply go on a trip for two weeks with the person who you vow is perfect and they will show you their issues. Believe me, something will come out. It won’t take long.
Not only do we have issues, but the world itself is confused. After all, we all know that things don’t always work the way that they should. Most people, by the time that they reach adulthood, have felt acute pain, either emotionally or physically. Most have realized that the world isn’t fair. Most have found themselves wondering if this is how it is supposed to work. Most have realized that the course of their lives is not entirely for them to determine, and their lives might not look anything like the success stories that they see in the movies. Life is difficult. It doesn’t take much to see that.
Just like the Bible, sin must be constantly translated into the events of modern day. As we have progressed technologically, sin, like a virus, has adapted itself to our new mediums. It has come with us because it is a part of us. It is time for us know rename the word SIN. Maybe we need lots of words. Just because it changes constantly doesn't mean that it has gone away.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Abraham"s Sacrifice
Then God called to Abraham and said,“Abraham, Abraham!” and Abraham said, “Here I am.” And God said, “Take your son, your only son Isaac whom you love and go to the land of Moriah and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains which I shall show you.”
Genesis 22:2
What does it mean to make a sacrifice? Abraham, the father of our faith, the first man to conceive of and worship one God, made a sacrifice. He was willing to take his only son, his life’s blood, and kill him upon an altar for God, to demonstrate that he loved God above all else, above even his offspring.
In Abraham’s day, there was no notion of eternal life. One lived on through one’s offspring. To not have children was to cease to exist when you died. And Abraham had waited his whole life to have a child. For decades, he had remained childless, wondering how God could possibly promise that his descendants would be as numerous as the stars. How could God make such a promise when Abraham didn’t even have one child?
Finally, Isaac was born. I cannot imagine the joy that Abraham felt watching his baby boy grow, his own child, his own flesh and blood. Watching him learn to crawl and walk, to make sounds and then to speak. We see our own best selves reflected in our children. Abraham must have seen his whole future in the face of this one small child.
Then God made a terrible request. God told Abraham to take his son and sacrifice him upon an altar, taking his life in obedience to God.
The Book of Genesis does not say what Abraham went through when God made this request. It does not describe his feelings, the anger, the horror. The Scripture just takes us to the next moment, at the base of Mt. Moriah, when Abraham is about to leave his servants behind and make his way to the site of the sacrifice.
Stay here. The boy and I will go over there and worship God and then we will return to you.
Did Abraham know that God would save his son? Did he somehow believe that God would not allow him to follow-through with the sacrifice? Or was he just lying to his servants, so that they were put at ease and did not follow him?
On the top of the mountain, Abraham takes his son and lays him upon the altar that he has constructed. He takes out his knife and prepares to slit his son’s throat. And God intervenes. And God provides a ram for the sacrifice. And God blesses Abraham. Forever, God blesses him.
Today Abraham’s descendants truly are as numerous as the stars in the sky. All Jews, Muslims, and Christians are descendants of Abraham. God fulfilled his promise.
What does it mean to sacrifice today? Does God still ask us to give up those things that we hold dear in order to prove our obedience? Are we ever asked to prove that God is our first priority?
There is a pastor who lives in China. His name is Pastor Xion. He is a devout Christian. He has been asked to renounce his faith in Christ many times. And each time the he refuses, he is imprisoned. He has been tortured, isolated, interrogated and threatened. And yet, he persists in his obedience to his belief, to his faith in Jesus. He wrote to some Christians in the United States and this is what he said.
I consider that these imprisonments have provided me with an opportunity to sacrifice for my faith. I pray for you Christians in America, who live in abundance and who are not given this opportunity. I pray that you will have the opportunity to one day make a sacrifice for Jesus.
Is it possible to make sacrifices in the USA in 2008? I believe that it is. In fact, I believe that we are given the opportunity to make God our first priority every day. When we are behind the steering wheel, when we face difficult decisions at work, we will find that we have a choice. If we are to be faithful, then we must give up our righteous anger, our popularity, our reputation. God gives us these decisions every day. And each time we put ourselves and our comfort above God’s will, we fail to sacrifice. Each time we succeed, we are blessed.
Sometimes following God, making God the bottom line, is painful. But it is the only way to find true peace. Putting yourself or your children first will never bring you what you truly seek. It is only in God that we can find true fulfillment.
Genesis 22:2
What does it mean to make a sacrifice? Abraham, the father of our faith, the first man to conceive of and worship one God, made a sacrifice. He was willing to take his only son, his life’s blood, and kill him upon an altar for God, to demonstrate that he loved God above all else, above even his offspring.
In Abraham’s day, there was no notion of eternal life. One lived on through one’s offspring. To not have children was to cease to exist when you died. And Abraham had waited his whole life to have a child. For decades, he had remained childless, wondering how God could possibly promise that his descendants would be as numerous as the stars. How could God make such a promise when Abraham didn’t even have one child?
Finally, Isaac was born. I cannot imagine the joy that Abraham felt watching his baby boy grow, his own child, his own flesh and blood. Watching him learn to crawl and walk, to make sounds and then to speak. We see our own best selves reflected in our children. Abraham must have seen his whole future in the face of this one small child.
Then God made a terrible request. God told Abraham to take his son and sacrifice him upon an altar, taking his life in obedience to God.
The Book of Genesis does not say what Abraham went through when God made this request. It does not describe his feelings, the anger, the horror. The Scripture just takes us to the next moment, at the base of Mt. Moriah, when Abraham is about to leave his servants behind and make his way to the site of the sacrifice.
Stay here. The boy and I will go over there and worship God and then we will return to you.
Did Abraham know that God would save his son? Did he somehow believe that God would not allow him to follow-through with the sacrifice? Or was he just lying to his servants, so that they were put at ease and did not follow him?
On the top of the mountain, Abraham takes his son and lays him upon the altar that he has constructed. He takes out his knife and prepares to slit his son’s throat. And God intervenes. And God provides a ram for the sacrifice. And God blesses Abraham. Forever, God blesses him.
Today Abraham’s descendants truly are as numerous as the stars in the sky. All Jews, Muslims, and Christians are descendants of Abraham. God fulfilled his promise.
What does it mean to sacrifice today? Does God still ask us to give up those things that we hold dear in order to prove our obedience? Are we ever asked to prove that God is our first priority?
There is a pastor who lives in China. His name is Pastor Xion. He is a devout Christian. He has been asked to renounce his faith in Christ many times. And each time the he refuses, he is imprisoned. He has been tortured, isolated, interrogated and threatened. And yet, he persists in his obedience to his belief, to his faith in Jesus. He wrote to some Christians in the United States and this is what he said.
I consider that these imprisonments have provided me with an opportunity to sacrifice for my faith. I pray for you Christians in America, who live in abundance and who are not given this opportunity. I pray that you will have the opportunity to one day make a sacrifice for Jesus.
Is it possible to make sacrifices in the USA in 2008? I believe that it is. In fact, I believe that we are given the opportunity to make God our first priority every day. When we are behind the steering wheel, when we face difficult decisions at work, we will find that we have a choice. If we are to be faithful, then we must give up our righteous anger, our popularity, our reputation. God gives us these decisions every day. And each time we put ourselves and our comfort above God’s will, we fail to sacrifice. Each time we succeed, we are blessed.
Sometimes following God, making God the bottom line, is painful. But it is the only way to find true peace. Putting yourself or your children first will never bring you what you truly seek. It is only in God that we can find true fulfillment.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Matthew
I got a speeding ticket that really made me mad last winter! I was leaving Target with all three of my boys on a cold winter afternoon. It was sleeting outside, the kind of sleet that seems to come down in sheets and leaves the ground covered with a layer of ice.
I buckled everybody in the car and slowly pulled out of the parking lot. I am from Connecticut and I know what to do when driving on the ice. DON’T DO IT. (But if you have to get home, go REALLY slowly!) So I was creeping along, going between 5 and 10 miles per hour, when I noticed a cop behind me.
His car was right up on my bumper. I think that he was annoyed that I was not going faster, but since I could hardly see, I stuck with my snail’s pace. As I rolled close to the intersection, the light turned yellow. The cop was so close to me that I could not stop without fear of his car sliding into mine, so I crept through the intersection. Because I was going so incredibly slowly, the light flipped red just as I was leaving the intersection.
The cop pulled me over and slapped me with a ticket for $150!! I sure was mad. I drove home and took digital photos of the ice on the road and the sleet. I had them blown up and took them to court, where I argued in front of the judge.
She reduced my ticket to $50, but I was still mad.
Isn’t that the best thing about this country? You can fight for your rights. You can argue and complain and gripe and whine without fear.
It wasn’t that way in Jesus’ day.
Israel was occupied territory. They were ruled by Romans and they were heavily taxed. What little money that the Jews made was taken from them and given to their rich rulers.
Imagine if the Chinese ruled this country. And they took HUGE taxes from you. And you had no say at all in the government. And the Chinese government officials drove around in Mercedes Benz’s. And you couldn’t pay your bills.
In Israel, they didn’t just come to the house to collect taxes, they set up a booth in town. And the sight of that booth probably would make you sick. It meant that they were going to take your money, and perhaps your livestock, from you. And if you didn’t pay, they would come to your home and collect.
The worst sight would have been the man seated behind the booth. He was not even a Roman. He was a Jew, a man who had sold out his own people to make a profit. Someone who was so sleazy that he was willing to take money from the poor and give it to the rich, just so that he could have some pocket change.
Tax collectors were considered the scum of the earth. They were the guys who had sold their souls. This is the kind of man that Jesus invited to dine with him, to follow him! This kind of a sinner.
People sometimes wonder if they are worthy to receive Holy Communion. Do they deserve it? Are they good enough?
And I say, NO. None of us are good enough. Our lives are a mess. We are a mess. But Jesus invites us anyway.
That’s the kind of love that he came to give us, the love that could invite a tax collector to dinner. And turn him into a disciple.
I buckled everybody in the car and slowly pulled out of the parking lot. I am from Connecticut and I know what to do when driving on the ice. DON’T DO IT. (But if you have to get home, go REALLY slowly!) So I was creeping along, going between 5 and 10 miles per hour, when I noticed a cop behind me.
His car was right up on my bumper. I think that he was annoyed that I was not going faster, but since I could hardly see, I stuck with my snail’s pace. As I rolled close to the intersection, the light turned yellow. The cop was so close to me that I could not stop without fear of his car sliding into mine, so I crept through the intersection. Because I was going so incredibly slowly, the light flipped red just as I was leaving the intersection.
The cop pulled me over and slapped me with a ticket for $150!! I sure was mad. I drove home and took digital photos of the ice on the road and the sleet. I had them blown up and took them to court, where I argued in front of the judge.
She reduced my ticket to $50, but I was still mad.
Isn’t that the best thing about this country? You can fight for your rights. You can argue and complain and gripe and whine without fear.
It wasn’t that way in Jesus’ day.
Israel was occupied territory. They were ruled by Romans and they were heavily taxed. What little money that the Jews made was taken from them and given to their rich rulers.
Imagine if the Chinese ruled this country. And they took HUGE taxes from you. And you had no say at all in the government. And the Chinese government officials drove around in Mercedes Benz’s. And you couldn’t pay your bills.
In Israel, they didn’t just come to the house to collect taxes, they set up a booth in town. And the sight of that booth probably would make you sick. It meant that they were going to take your money, and perhaps your livestock, from you. And if you didn’t pay, they would come to your home and collect.
The worst sight would have been the man seated behind the booth. He was not even a Roman. He was a Jew, a man who had sold out his own people to make a profit. Someone who was so sleazy that he was willing to take money from the poor and give it to the rich, just so that he could have some pocket change.
Tax collectors were considered the scum of the earth. They were the guys who had sold their souls. This is the kind of man that Jesus invited to dine with him, to follow him! This kind of a sinner.
People sometimes wonder if they are worthy to receive Holy Communion. Do they deserve it? Are they good enough?
And I say, NO. None of us are good enough. Our lives are a mess. We are a mess. But Jesus invites us anyway.
That’s the kind of love that he came to give us, the love that could invite a tax collector to dinner. And turn him into a disciple.
Friday, May 16, 2008
Getting the Good Seat
James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came forward to him and said to him, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” And he said to them, “What is it that you want me to do for you?” And they said to him, “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.” But Jesus said to them, “You do not know what you are asking.”
Mark 10:35-38
I have always pictured James and John as big men. Maybe it is because of their fathers name, Zebedee. And they were called the Sons of Thunder, so they must have been powerful, the kind of men that make the earth shake when they walk. You can always hear them coming.
They were also ambitious, those brothers. They wanted to be the favorites, to sit in the places of highest honor when Jesus became King. Of course, they were anticipating an earthly kingship, and they could not wait to sit at his right and at his left for the kingly feast.
When they first approach Jesus with their ambitious desire, they attempt to play a trick on him. “Teacher, we want you to do whatever we ask of you.” How straightforwardly aggressive and how conniving! But Jesus will not be manipulated. He is so sharp! Despite exhaustion, constant travel, crowds, demands, Jesus does not skip a beat. He does not agree to do whatever they ask. He merely responds with his own question: “What is it that you want me to do for you?”
Seeing that Jesus cannot be tricked, they come out with it.
"We want to sit at your right hand and at your left in your glory."
Of course they do, wouldn’t we all?
Jesus does not get angry at their selfishness. He merely clarifies that they don’t know what they are asking. And he is right. They don’t have a clue.
When the disciples find out what James and John have requested, they are furious. Behaving exactly like a family, the disciples all secretly want to be the favorite. They all vie for attention from Jesus and all of them want to be first in line to be with him in his glory. The disciples are just like the rest of us, competitive and hungry for love.
What fascinates me is Jesus’ response: “You do not know what you are asking.” For years, I took this to mean that James and John were not able to follow in his footsteps, to complete the sacrifice that he would make. But I think that Jesus was saying more than just that. It is possible that he was also alluding to one of the mysteries of the Kingdom of Heaven.
You see, I do not believe that God has the same limitations that we do. Human beings can be intimate with two, maybe up to four people. We do not have the time, nor the emotional energy to make ourselves deeply aware of more that a few human companions. It is simply not possible.
But God does not have limitations when it comes to intimacy. In a metaphorical sense, God has more than one right hand and more than one left hand. The notion of competition, which pulses through all of creation from the lowest animals to the human race, does not exist in God. The Triune God is capable of holding each one of us in the most beloved position simultaneously.
Jesus goes on to teach James, John, and the disciples, that the way to come to God is to be last, to give up the good seat, to get your self out of the way. In a spectacularly paradoxical way, to be great means to get out of the race.
But getting our selves out of the way can be the hardest thing in the world to do. It goes against human nature to give up our seat at the table. The only way to learn this new way is to begin to listen to God and to give things away. The way of the cross is truly something that we do not understand, but we can take baby steps in that direction, trying to get ourselves off center stage. For that is the only way to the Kingdom of God.
Mark 10:35-38
I have always pictured James and John as big men. Maybe it is because of their fathers name, Zebedee. And they were called the Sons of Thunder, so they must have been powerful, the kind of men that make the earth shake when they walk. You can always hear them coming.
They were also ambitious, those brothers. They wanted to be the favorites, to sit in the places of highest honor when Jesus became King. Of course, they were anticipating an earthly kingship, and they could not wait to sit at his right and at his left for the kingly feast.
When they first approach Jesus with their ambitious desire, they attempt to play a trick on him. “Teacher, we want you to do whatever we ask of you.” How straightforwardly aggressive and how conniving! But Jesus will not be manipulated. He is so sharp! Despite exhaustion, constant travel, crowds, demands, Jesus does not skip a beat. He does not agree to do whatever they ask. He merely responds with his own question: “What is it that you want me to do for you?”
Seeing that Jesus cannot be tricked, they come out with it.
"We want to sit at your right hand and at your left in your glory."
Of course they do, wouldn’t we all?
Jesus does not get angry at their selfishness. He merely clarifies that they don’t know what they are asking. And he is right. They don’t have a clue.
When the disciples find out what James and John have requested, they are furious. Behaving exactly like a family, the disciples all secretly want to be the favorite. They all vie for attention from Jesus and all of them want to be first in line to be with him in his glory. The disciples are just like the rest of us, competitive and hungry for love.
What fascinates me is Jesus’ response: “You do not know what you are asking.” For years, I took this to mean that James and John were not able to follow in his footsteps, to complete the sacrifice that he would make. But I think that Jesus was saying more than just that. It is possible that he was also alluding to one of the mysteries of the Kingdom of Heaven.
You see, I do not believe that God has the same limitations that we do. Human beings can be intimate with two, maybe up to four people. We do not have the time, nor the emotional energy to make ourselves deeply aware of more that a few human companions. It is simply not possible.
But God does not have limitations when it comes to intimacy. In a metaphorical sense, God has more than one right hand and more than one left hand. The notion of competition, which pulses through all of creation from the lowest animals to the human race, does not exist in God. The Triune God is capable of holding each one of us in the most beloved position simultaneously.
Jesus goes on to teach James, John, and the disciples, that the way to come to God is to be last, to give up the good seat, to get your self out of the way. In a spectacularly paradoxical way, to be great means to get out of the race.
But getting our selves out of the way can be the hardest thing in the world to do. It goes against human nature to give up our seat at the table. The only way to learn this new way is to begin to listen to God and to give things away. The way of the cross is truly something that we do not understand, but we can take baby steps in that direction, trying to get ourselves off center stage. For that is the only way to the Kingdom of God.
Monday, May 05, 2008
Leaving Us
Ascension Day is a strange Holiday. Why do we celebrate the day that Jesus left us? Frankly, I would rather if he had stayed. I would prefer for him to continue to appear as he did after the resurrection, just pop in and help out in difficult situations, like Aslan in the Chronicles of Narnia.
Why did he have to leave so publicly and for such a long time? I don’t know why we celebrate saying goodbye.
I do not think that a person can understand the Ascension without understanding the difference between love and attachment.
Attachment would have us hold on to one another. Attachment would have a mother protect her children so much that they never were taught how to be self-sufficient. A spouse who is attached would not let his wife pay the bills, pump the gas, because he likes it that she needs him. Attachment would have us pretend that we never have to leave one another.
But love prepares us for eventual departure. No one can stay forever with another person. We will all be parted at least by death. But love talks honestly about this fact. Love prepares us for separation. Love lets a child grow up to care for itself as a responsible adult. Love forces a spouse to teach his wife how to take care of herself, in case anything should happen and she is left alone.
My son Max is taking swimming lessons. He started when he was two. At first the teacher just held him in the water, until he relaxed and trusted his teacher. Then the teacher let go a little, supporting Max under his shoulder blades so that he learned to float. Then he taught Max to hold his breath under water and to pull himself out of the pool. And little by little, he let go, until Max was swimming.
Jesus knew that it was time to let go of us. It was time for us to try living on our own. He thought that we could handle life without his physical presence. He thought that we were ready. And so he left us physically, bodily, in front of lots of people, so that there could be no doubt that he was saying good-bye.
Right after college, I saw the most wonderful therapist. He would listen so well, say the most thoughtful things. The only thing that made me mad was when he said, “Time’s up.” After 50 minutes, no matter if I was in the midst of the most life-changing thought, he would end our session. I wanted him to be willing to go on for an extra five or ten minutes! What was the big deal about the time? It seemed so abrupt to me, so cold.
But over the months, I began to realize that this time with him was sacred partially because it was limited. I knew that I had his undivided attention for 50 minutes. And I knew that after that time was up, I would have to leave.
After one year, he said that he thought our work was complete. That made me mad too! After all, he was suggesting that I leave him. I didn’t want to go.
But he was right. I was growing up. It was time to leave. I don't know if I would have valued what I learned nearly as much if I had been allowed to see him forever.
Jesus left us. He left us for heaven. All of us will have to leave this life after all. He was showing us how it must be done, with honesty and love. And now we know that he waits for us out there, at our true home.
Why did he have to leave so publicly and for such a long time? I don’t know why we celebrate saying goodbye.
I do not think that a person can understand the Ascension without understanding the difference between love and attachment.
Attachment would have us hold on to one another. Attachment would have a mother protect her children so much that they never were taught how to be self-sufficient. A spouse who is attached would not let his wife pay the bills, pump the gas, because he likes it that she needs him. Attachment would have us pretend that we never have to leave one another.
But love prepares us for eventual departure. No one can stay forever with another person. We will all be parted at least by death. But love talks honestly about this fact. Love prepares us for separation. Love lets a child grow up to care for itself as a responsible adult. Love forces a spouse to teach his wife how to take care of herself, in case anything should happen and she is left alone.
My son Max is taking swimming lessons. He started when he was two. At first the teacher just held him in the water, until he relaxed and trusted his teacher. Then the teacher let go a little, supporting Max under his shoulder blades so that he learned to float. Then he taught Max to hold his breath under water and to pull himself out of the pool. And little by little, he let go, until Max was swimming.
Jesus knew that it was time to let go of us. It was time for us to try living on our own. He thought that we could handle life without his physical presence. He thought that we were ready. And so he left us physically, bodily, in front of lots of people, so that there could be no doubt that he was saying good-bye.
Right after college, I saw the most wonderful therapist. He would listen so well, say the most thoughtful things. The only thing that made me mad was when he said, “Time’s up.” After 50 minutes, no matter if I was in the midst of the most life-changing thought, he would end our session. I wanted him to be willing to go on for an extra five or ten minutes! What was the big deal about the time? It seemed so abrupt to me, so cold.
But over the months, I began to realize that this time with him was sacred partially because it was limited. I knew that I had his undivided attention for 50 minutes. And I knew that after that time was up, I would have to leave.
After one year, he said that he thought our work was complete. That made me mad too! After all, he was suggesting that I leave him. I didn’t want to go.
But he was right. I was growing up. It was time to leave. I don't know if I would have valued what I learned nearly as much if I had been allowed to see him forever.
Jesus left us. He left us for heaven. All of us will have to leave this life after all. He was showing us how it must be done, with honesty and love. And now we know that he waits for us out there, at our true home.
Friday, May 02, 2008
Measuring God
The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!”
The Lord replied, “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.
Luke 17:5-6
Why is it that human beings always want more? If we hadn’t wanted more, we might not have taken that forbidden fruit in the garden of Eden…If we hadn’t wanted more, we might not have fallen from God. And even after that fatal mistake, we still want more. Just look at the latest advertisements, our entire American culture is built on the premise that we want more, that we need more, that more is better and better is more. If only we could say when enough is enough. If only we were satisfied. If only we knew how to be thankful with what God has given us.
The disciples wanted more. More faith. But they had no idea what they were
talking about. There is no such thing as more faith. Faith is something that you cannot measure.
I have a friend whose daughter died while he was in Seminary. She was five years old. She died of leukemia. And people would come up to him and say, “Thank God for your faith.” Or they would say, “Just hold on to your faith.” And he had no idea what they were talking about. Was he supposed to own something that would make this blackness better? Was he supposed to lean on this thing called faith? If it was something to possess or to lean on, then he must be missing it. Because all he felt was despair.
When the disciples ask for more faith, Jesus gives them a strange answer. If you had faith as tiny as a mustard seed (you know how small those seeds are, they blow away with the wind), you could make a tree jump in the water. You do not know what you are asking. You do not know what faith is.
If faith can make trees jump in the water, it must be God. Because only God can do things like that. Nothing that a person could create or own or hold onto could make a tree jump in the water. Jesus must have been talking about God. Faith must be none other than God inside of us.
Maybe that’s what it is, faith. Maybe it is, quite simply, the Holy Spirit that lives inside of us. That glimmer of mystery that yearns to return to God, that sliver of hope that nudges us, calls us, presses us to be better people, to seek heaven itself.
My friend Brad tried to hold onto his faith when his daughter died, but that didn’t seem to work for him. After a year of trying, he gave up and let the darkness come. He missed his little girl so much. The worst pain came when he thought of how she would never experience so much of live, her first kiss, her prom, her wedding, children. When he thought of all that she was deprived of in death, his despair seemed to swallow him whole.
But when he stopped trying so hard to have faith, something else came with the darkness. He had a dream. In the dream, Jesus took his little girl by the hand and together they experienced everything. She had her first kiss, she got married, she had children, she did everything. And when he woke up, Brad knew that she was alive with God, really alive, and experiencing all that is life and love. He knew that she was alive.
Monday, February 25, 2008
The Woman at the Well
The Woman at the Well
I went to a conference this past week. The same routine happens everywhere: you meet old acquaintances, you say, “How are you?” and they tell you how they are fine, and how great things are going at their church. It’s superficial and exhausting.
I was reminded of a girl in college. She was bouncy and blond and whenever I said, “How are you?” in passing, she’d respond, “WONDERFUL!!” On bad days, I wanted to punch her.
I did have lunch with one friend in the middle of the conference. She told me the truth about her life, about the struggles that she has in her marriage and how her husband almost left her because she was working so hard. We were in the middle of a busy conference room full of people, but the rest of the room seemed to melt away, leaving just two of us, having a real conversation.
That’s the kind of conversation that Jesus had with the Samaritan woman. A real conversation, about the truth.
Jesus was exhausted. It took three days to walk from Judea to Galilee through Samaria. He was thirsty. He sat down beside a well to rest. And she came, carrying her water jar.
How can I explain what Jesus did? We don’t have the social boundaries that they did back then. We can’t understand the incredible step that he took in speaking to a Samaritan woman. We cannot comprehend how radical this was, how absolutely crazy.
It would be like a woman of fundamentalist Islamic faith, taking off her veil and going to speak with a strange man on the street.
It would be like a Brahmin, scholar in India, deciding to kneel in the mud and have a conversation with an untouchable.
It would be like two gang members, whose gangs are at war with one another in the inner city, sitting down to coffee together.
You didn’t speak to women in Jesus’ time. And you certainly didn’t speak to Samaritans. They were dirty, foreign, and not loved by God.
Jesus doesn't just speak to her. He asks her for a drink. He is willing to take his lips and touch them to her water jar.
It was like borrowing the Styrofoam coffee cup that belongs to a sickly homeless man.
Or asking a man with AIDS lesions to change your bandaid.
It was that dirty. Jesus did a dangerous, repulsive thing.
We never hear this woman's name. But I picture her as an extravert, a chatterbox, and she was bold. I don't know how she got so bold. Most women would have scurried about, getting the rabbi a drink, wondering why he spoke to her. Most women would have been silent, but this woman blurts out,
Why the heck are you talking to me?
And a conversation begins.
The woman does not understand a word that Jesus is saying. He talks about living water. He talks about resurrection and it all goes over her head. She is thinking about how nice it would be not to have to fetch water, not to be thirsty all the time.
Jesus asks her to fetch her husband.
And she tells the truth.
She doesn’t go get some man. She doesn’t run away and hide. She tells the truth.
I have no husband.
This was admitting that she was a total failure as a woman. Women lived only to please men and bear children.
What happened to her? Did her husbands die? Did they cast her out (they could do that for any reason at all)? Now she was living with a man who was not her husband, being defiled by a man who would not take her hand.
She tells Jesus.
Remember how people introduce themselves in Alcoholics Anonymous? Hi. My name is Ted. I am an alcoholic.
You must tell the truth to begin a real conversation.
Of all the people in the Gospel of John, Jesus reveals himself to this woman first.
Not to the scholars.
Not to the disciples.
To a woman who didn’t understand a word he said. A woman who had little intellect and no status, because she told him who she really was. She showed him her scars.
In the Garden of Eden, when we separated from God, the first thing that we did was to hide.
If you want to know God, you must stop hiding. You must stand, naked before Jesus. You must be honest.
I know that you have a hole inside you. Something that you cannot master by yourself, something that makes your life less than perfect. I know this because you are human.
Tell the truth to God.
Only then will you begin to understand how Christ saves.
I went to a conference this past week. The same routine happens everywhere: you meet old acquaintances, you say, “How are you?” and they tell you how they are fine, and how great things are going at their church. It’s superficial and exhausting.
I was reminded of a girl in college. She was bouncy and blond and whenever I said, “How are you?” in passing, she’d respond, “WONDERFUL!!” On bad days, I wanted to punch her.
I did have lunch with one friend in the middle of the conference. She told me the truth about her life, about the struggles that she has in her marriage and how her husband almost left her because she was working so hard. We were in the middle of a busy conference room full of people, but the rest of the room seemed to melt away, leaving just two of us, having a real conversation.
That’s the kind of conversation that Jesus had with the Samaritan woman. A real conversation, about the truth.
Jesus was exhausted. It took three days to walk from Judea to Galilee through Samaria. He was thirsty. He sat down beside a well to rest. And she came, carrying her water jar.
How can I explain what Jesus did? We don’t have the social boundaries that they did back then. We can’t understand the incredible step that he took in speaking to a Samaritan woman. We cannot comprehend how radical this was, how absolutely crazy.
It would be like a woman of fundamentalist Islamic faith, taking off her veil and going to speak with a strange man on the street.
It would be like a Brahmin, scholar in India, deciding to kneel in the mud and have a conversation with an untouchable.
It would be like two gang members, whose gangs are at war with one another in the inner city, sitting down to coffee together.
You didn’t speak to women in Jesus’ time. And you certainly didn’t speak to Samaritans. They were dirty, foreign, and not loved by God.
Jesus doesn't just speak to her. He asks her for a drink. He is willing to take his lips and touch them to her water jar.
It was like borrowing the Styrofoam coffee cup that belongs to a sickly homeless man.
Or asking a man with AIDS lesions to change your bandaid.
It was that dirty. Jesus did a dangerous, repulsive thing.
We never hear this woman's name. But I picture her as an extravert, a chatterbox, and she was bold. I don't know how she got so bold. Most women would have scurried about, getting the rabbi a drink, wondering why he spoke to her. Most women would have been silent, but this woman blurts out,
Why the heck are you talking to me?
And a conversation begins.
The woman does not understand a word that Jesus is saying. He talks about living water. He talks about resurrection and it all goes over her head. She is thinking about how nice it would be not to have to fetch water, not to be thirsty all the time.
Jesus asks her to fetch her husband.
And she tells the truth.
She doesn’t go get some man. She doesn’t run away and hide. She tells the truth.
I have no husband.
This was admitting that she was a total failure as a woman. Women lived only to please men and bear children.
What happened to her? Did her husbands die? Did they cast her out (they could do that for any reason at all)? Now she was living with a man who was not her husband, being defiled by a man who would not take her hand.
She tells Jesus.
Remember how people introduce themselves in Alcoholics Anonymous? Hi. My name is Ted. I am an alcoholic.
You must tell the truth to begin a real conversation.
Of all the people in the Gospel of John, Jesus reveals himself to this woman first.
Not to the scholars.
Not to the disciples.
To a woman who didn’t understand a word he said. A woman who had little intellect and no status, because she told him who she really was. She showed him her scars.
In the Garden of Eden, when we separated from God, the first thing that we did was to hide.
If you want to know God, you must stop hiding. You must stand, naked before Jesus. You must be honest.
I know that you have a hole inside you. Something that you cannot master by yourself, something that makes your life less than perfect. I know this because you are human.
Tell the truth to God.
Only then will you begin to understand how Christ saves.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Temptation
After Jesus was baptized by John, he went to the wilderness, where he was tempted…
Britney Spears has everything: great looks, talent, more money than some small countries…She has everything that we think we need. And she is miserable.
Heath Ledger just died at 28. His recipe for death? Great looks, incredible talent and lots of money. Despite having “it all” he couldn’t sleep at night so he started taking drugs. And he took too much.
It strikes me that human beings are like my dog, Benjamin. Ben is a dumb chocolate lab. If I gave him a 15 pound bag of dog food, he would gorge himself to death. He would eat until he died. That dog has no idea to say when.
When it comes to issues of money, good looks, power, we don’t know how to say when. We think that we will be happy if we could just get the fat off our thighs, or the wrinkles off our eyes. If only we had more money, more influence, if only people noticed us.
We look to the celebrities as if they are minor gods. We call them “the stars,” as if they are lights for us to see by. But look at them. They are miserable.
At the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, before he did anything else, he went to the desert. I’ve been to the Sinai desert. I never knew what quiet was until I went there. There was no wind, no birds, no traffic, no roads. I felt like I was on the moon. There was total silence, like a blanket, it envelops you. All there is to hear is your own mind, your own thoughts, your temptations.
What are temptations? They are the inner urges that draw us from God. Jesus had three archetypal temptations, but most of us have more like 25. Jesus said no to his temptations. Most of us buy right into them and live according to their advice, until we realize that our lives aren’t working.
What are your temptations? Since I work and I have three small boys, one of mine is this (and it’s a good one)
Poor me! I work SO hard. No one works as hard as I do!
My aunt is a shopaholic. She has spoken one of her temptations aloud to me, and she still buys into it. Her temptation says
It’s not fair! Why is life so unfair to me?
She verbalized this temptation on the road to her mother’s. She had been evicted from her apartment because of her immense debt (caused by all her shopping). She had a friend build a wooden trailer that she stuffed full of all her knickknacks. And the trailer was so stuffed that it literally blew up on the highway. So she called my mother and she said:
It's not fair! Why is life so unfair to me?
Or the friend of mine who truly believes that all the men who love her will leave her. And so they do leave her, and she gets sucked deeper into the vortex of her own temptation.
What are your temptations? Do they tell you that you are not good enough? Do they tell you that you are stupid? Do they tell you that it’s OK to drink alcohol even though your dad drank himself to death?
Jesus faced his temptations. He went to a quiet place so that he could hear them. He looked at them in the stark light of the desert, where nothing can hide. He saw how stupid they were. And he rejected them.
The best think to do with temptation is to take it out and look at it. Write it down. Speak it out loud. Tell someone about it. Bring it into the light. You will realize that it is just plain dumb. And it will begin to loose its power over you. Oh, it will return. Most temptations are repetitive, built on years of obsession. But when it comes back, if you have looked it straight in the face, you will be able to recognize it quickly. You will not be so taken in.
If only my friend could realize the stupidity of believing that all men who love her leave her. If only she could see that believing something so negative only serves to bring that very reality to pass. She could be so incredible. She could be happy. If only she could let go of this belief.
If only my aunt could realize that things and stuff can’t make her truly full, she might begin to truly live.
Jesus had to recognize his own temptation before he could help anyone else. No wonder it happened at the beginning of his ministry. It was a necessary thing to do. We must get out of the muck of our self-centeredness if we are ever to truly live. We cannot really help anyone else until we figure out our own selves.
The last thing that the tempter wants is for you to realize who you truly are: a child of God, beloved, and capable of infinite possibilities.
Britney Spears has everything: great looks, talent, more money than some small countries…She has everything that we think we need. And she is miserable.
Heath Ledger just died at 28. His recipe for death? Great looks, incredible talent and lots of money. Despite having “it all” he couldn’t sleep at night so he started taking drugs. And he took too much.
It strikes me that human beings are like my dog, Benjamin. Ben is a dumb chocolate lab. If I gave him a 15 pound bag of dog food, he would gorge himself to death. He would eat until he died. That dog has no idea to say when.
When it comes to issues of money, good looks, power, we don’t know how to say when. We think that we will be happy if we could just get the fat off our thighs, or the wrinkles off our eyes. If only we had more money, more influence, if only people noticed us.
We look to the celebrities as if they are minor gods. We call them “the stars,” as if they are lights for us to see by. But look at them. They are miserable.
At the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, before he did anything else, he went to the desert. I’ve been to the Sinai desert. I never knew what quiet was until I went there. There was no wind, no birds, no traffic, no roads. I felt like I was on the moon. There was total silence, like a blanket, it envelops you. All there is to hear is your own mind, your own thoughts, your temptations.
What are temptations? They are the inner urges that draw us from God. Jesus had three archetypal temptations, but most of us have more like 25. Jesus said no to his temptations. Most of us buy right into them and live according to their advice, until we realize that our lives aren’t working.
What are your temptations? Since I work and I have three small boys, one of mine is this (and it’s a good one)
Poor me! I work SO hard. No one works as hard as I do!
My aunt is a shopaholic. She has spoken one of her temptations aloud to me, and she still buys into it. Her temptation says
It’s not fair! Why is life so unfair to me?
She verbalized this temptation on the road to her mother’s. She had been evicted from her apartment because of her immense debt (caused by all her shopping). She had a friend build a wooden trailer that she stuffed full of all her knickknacks. And the trailer was so stuffed that it literally blew up on the highway. So she called my mother and she said:
It's not fair! Why is life so unfair to me?
Or the friend of mine who truly believes that all the men who love her will leave her. And so they do leave her, and she gets sucked deeper into the vortex of her own temptation.
What are your temptations? Do they tell you that you are not good enough? Do they tell you that you are stupid? Do they tell you that it’s OK to drink alcohol even though your dad drank himself to death?
Jesus faced his temptations. He went to a quiet place so that he could hear them. He looked at them in the stark light of the desert, where nothing can hide. He saw how stupid they were. And he rejected them.
The best think to do with temptation is to take it out and look at it. Write it down. Speak it out loud. Tell someone about it. Bring it into the light. You will realize that it is just plain dumb. And it will begin to loose its power over you. Oh, it will return. Most temptations are repetitive, built on years of obsession. But when it comes back, if you have looked it straight in the face, you will be able to recognize it quickly. You will not be so taken in.
If only my friend could realize the stupidity of believing that all men who love her leave her. If only she could see that believing something so negative only serves to bring that very reality to pass. She could be so incredible. She could be happy. If only she could let go of this belief.
If only my aunt could realize that things and stuff can’t make her truly full, she might begin to truly live.
Jesus had to recognize his own temptation before he could help anyone else. No wonder it happened at the beginning of his ministry. It was a necessary thing to do. We must get out of the muck of our self-centeredness if we are ever to truly live. We cannot really help anyone else until we figure out our own selves.
The last thing that the tempter wants is for you to realize who you truly are: a child of God, beloved, and capable of infinite possibilities.
Monday, January 14, 2008
The Electric Moment
Ed Burns lost his wife just a year ago. He told me of the time when they first met. He saw her across the room one night when he was out for dinner with friends. The moment that he laid eyes on her, there was this electricity. “Who is that woman with the beautiful blue eyes?” he asked his friend. He insisted that they were introduced and he asked her out on a date. That was the beginning of relationship that would last a lifetime. That was the night that he met his soul mate, the night that changed everything.
When I met my husband, it was love at second sight. The first time I met him, he hadn’t slept the night before. He had dark circles under his eyes and he hadn’t shaved. I passed him over and felt nothing. But then he came to see my in an opera and I spoke to him after the performance. There was this electric moment. I looked at him, and I thought, “Is this the one?”
Love often begins with electric moments and love often alters both parties. Love changes you. When I met my husband, everyone called me Katherine. He started calling me Kate. Even my name changed! I became a better person, because I wanted to be worthy of him. I wanted to me the person that he saw in me. I became more myself and so much stronger.
In the movie As Good as it Gets, Jack Nickolson gives this stunning performance as a man who is nuts, eccentric, obsessive-compulsive and selfish. This man falls in love with a waitress and in order to be with her, he realizes that he is going to have to get healthy. She simply will not tolerate his craziness. One night, they are sitting at dinner and he is rattling on about something nuts and she says to him, “Can’t you just say one nice thing to me?” And this is what he comes up with:
You make me a better man.
At the end of the movie, he proceeds to explain to her why she must be with him. “I may be crazy,” he says, “But I am the only man who knows that you are the most amazing person on this planet, that everything you say is straight and honest and true. I’m proud of myself, because I see you.”
When John the Baptist meets Jesus in the River Jordan, it is an electric moment. They are both so in love with God and both know that something is about to happen. Both seem to know that this encounter will change their lives. You can feel the electricity. John finds himself face to face with the One, the One who he has been waiting for, the man who will change everything, the Messiah. In this moment, John is the first person to actually see Jesus, to recognize who he really is. It is a moment of truth, a moment of recognition. John finds himself tongue-tied. This loud man who has been screaming about repentance finds himself unsure of what to do. Even though he has been baptizing people like crazy, suddenly he is not so sure if he is supposed to do this. “Shouldn’t you be baptizing me?” he asks. And Jesus assures him that no, this is the way that it is supposed to go. John is to baptize Jesus.
And in that moment as they bend down towards the water together, God is present, just as God was present when Ed Burns first saw his wife, just as God was present when I spoke to my husband. God came in that electric moment of recognition and God told the truth about Jesus.
This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.
If you and I want to discover the fullness of who we really are, we need to fall in love with God. Romantic love between persons is just a reflection of that, the greatest love, the love of God. When we are baptized, a love story begins between God and each one of us. Whenever I see a child or adult come up out of those waters, I think to myself, “What is God going to do with this person?” and “What is this person going to do with God?”
You are a child of God. To be fully known, you must fall in love the Maker of all. Only then will you find the purpose for which you were created.
Saturday, January 05, 2008
Wise
There must be hundreds of books published just this year that focus on visionary leadership. How exactly does one determine the future? How can we anticipate the needs of the public before our competitors? How can we see ahead, or at least create a vision that compels others to follow us?
When they heard about something incredible, about the rise of a Messiah who would change the world, they did not run and hide, they went out to meet that child. They were not afraid of change, they sought it out. They went out to meet that Messiah. They traveled great distances to find him, and they when they arrived, they worshiped him.
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
About the Holy Spirit
I want to tell you all things, but you cannot bear them now…
John
People ask me why-questions all the time.
Why did God let my son die? Why do I have cancer? Did I do something wrong? Why does God allow the world to be such a mess? Why doesn’t God come and solve some of our problems? Why can’t I understand?
I sit there in my office like a bump on a log. I listen. And I cannot give these people the answers that they deserve. I wonder if God wants them to understand, or if it’s just not possible. God is more real to me than the chair in which I sit, but I cannot explain why God does anything. I simply do not understand. And I can’t help but wonder, does God want us to understand?
Jesus once told us that he wanted to explain everything. He wanted to let us in on it all, but he couldn’t because we could not tolerate the entirety of God’s presence. We could not bear to witness too much of God. It was simply too much for us: too bright, to brilliant, too good, too much. God does not answer all of our questions, that is true. But it is not because God withholds from us. Our questions are left unanswered because we are unable to tolerate the answers.
Moses could not look at God because God was too bright. He had to look at the backside of God, or more literally, at where God just was. Even the most devout person cannot tolerate that much of God. It is simply too much: too much holiness, too much goodness, too much truth. It is like looking directly at the sun.
I believe that the Holy Spirit is a way to titrate God’s presence. It is God’s attempt to give us glimpses slowly, and only when we are ready. The Holy Spirit is a gift, a gift of infinite patience and understanding. All will be revealed to us, but only when we are ready.
When I was a little girl, my parents went through a rough patch in their marriage. They fought loudly and often, breaking dishes and hollering. I remember their fights.
One day, at nursery school, I decided to hide in my cubby. I remember what it felt like. I had put my jacket and my lunch box inside the cubby. I looked inside. It looked so quiet, so safe in there. I hid inside, thinking that maybe the world could go on without me. I liked it in there, it felt safe. I could hear myself breathe. The fighting couldn’t fit in there, just me, me and the quiet, and the cramped smell of my lunch box.
My nursery school teacher couldn’t get me to come out that day. Evidently, she called my parents. She recommended that I see a child psychologist. My parents diligently obeyed. The psychologist’s name was Dr. Wolfe.
I remember that there was a large banister going up to Dr. Wolfe’s room. She was a gentle, older woman with dark hair. I remember that she played with me and listened to me. We drew pictures. She smiled. And when I was done with my sessions, she gave me a cupcake. I still remember the cupcake.
Dr. Wolfe did not describe the nature of anxiety to my four-year-old self. She did not explain to me about the fear of abandonment. She just played and she listened. She followed my lead, letting me play games. If I wanted to be the princess, I got to be the princess and she dutifully played the monster bad-guy. We drew pictures. And all the time, while we were playing, she was gently asking me questions, nudging me into new ways of thinking. She was my friend. She met me where I was, in my four year old world of fear, and she showed me the way out of the cubby hole, into something bigger.
The Holy Spirit is a lot like Dr. Wolfe. I believe that the Spirit listens to us a great deal. The Spirit meets us where we are, and then gently nudges us in the right direction. The Spirit is always inviting us to play, but we are often so busy and self-consumed that we do not respond. And so the Spirit waits, until we can listen a little better. The Spirit nudges and listens, waits and plays.
I do not believe that God is in a hurry. But I do believe that God wants us to know everything, and God waits patiently for us to become ready to receive the truth.
We begin the journey by admitting what we do not know. We begin by realizing that we are small children in the eyes of God, trapped in boxes of routine and self-definition, pattern and neurosis. We begin by admitting that we do not understand much at all.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if the religious leaders of the world could begin to discuss what we don’t know as opposed to fighting over what we do know? Could we have more peace if we admitted that we all are like lost children before the magnificence of God? If you do not understand much, that is a good place to begin. It is your own limitations that prevent you from understanding God, not God’s refusal to communicate. There is nothing that God wants more than to communicate with you.
John
People ask me why-questions all the time.
Why did God let my son die? Why do I have cancer? Did I do something wrong? Why does God allow the world to be such a mess? Why doesn’t God come and solve some of our problems? Why can’t I understand?
I sit there in my office like a bump on a log. I listen. And I cannot give these people the answers that they deserve. I wonder if God wants them to understand, or if it’s just not possible. God is more real to me than the chair in which I sit, but I cannot explain why God does anything. I simply do not understand. And I can’t help but wonder, does God want us to understand?
Jesus once told us that he wanted to explain everything. He wanted to let us in on it all, but he couldn’t because we could not tolerate the entirety of God’s presence. We could not bear to witness too much of God. It was simply too much for us: too bright, to brilliant, too good, too much. God does not answer all of our questions, that is true. But it is not because God withholds from us. Our questions are left unanswered because we are unable to tolerate the answers.
Moses could not look at God because God was too bright. He had to look at the backside of God, or more literally, at where God just was. Even the most devout person cannot tolerate that much of God. It is simply too much: too much holiness, too much goodness, too much truth. It is like looking directly at the sun.
I believe that the Holy Spirit is a way to titrate God’s presence. It is God’s attempt to give us glimpses slowly, and only when we are ready. The Holy Spirit is a gift, a gift of infinite patience and understanding. All will be revealed to us, but only when we are ready.
When I was a little girl, my parents went through a rough patch in their marriage. They fought loudly and often, breaking dishes and hollering. I remember their fights.
One day, at nursery school, I decided to hide in my cubby. I remember what it felt like. I had put my jacket and my lunch box inside the cubby. I looked inside. It looked so quiet, so safe in there. I hid inside, thinking that maybe the world could go on without me. I liked it in there, it felt safe. I could hear myself breathe. The fighting couldn’t fit in there, just me, me and the quiet, and the cramped smell of my lunch box.
My nursery school teacher couldn’t get me to come out that day. Evidently, she called my parents. She recommended that I see a child psychologist. My parents diligently obeyed. The psychologist’s name was Dr. Wolfe.
I remember that there was a large banister going up to Dr. Wolfe’s room. She was a gentle, older woman with dark hair. I remember that she played with me and listened to me. We drew pictures. She smiled. And when I was done with my sessions, she gave me a cupcake. I still remember the cupcake.
Dr. Wolfe did not describe the nature of anxiety to my four-year-old self. She did not explain to me about the fear of abandonment. She just played and she listened. She followed my lead, letting me play games. If I wanted to be the princess, I got to be the princess and she dutifully played the monster bad-guy. We drew pictures. And all the time, while we were playing, she was gently asking me questions, nudging me into new ways of thinking. She was my friend. She met me where I was, in my four year old world of fear, and she showed me the way out of the cubby hole, into something bigger.
The Holy Spirit is a lot like Dr. Wolfe. I believe that the Spirit listens to us a great deal. The Spirit meets us where we are, and then gently nudges us in the right direction. The Spirit is always inviting us to play, but we are often so busy and self-consumed that we do not respond. And so the Spirit waits, until we can listen a little better. The Spirit nudges and listens, waits and plays.
I do not believe that God is in a hurry. But I do believe that God wants us to know everything, and God waits patiently for us to become ready to receive the truth.
We begin the journey by admitting what we do not know. We begin by realizing that we are small children in the eyes of God, trapped in boxes of routine and self-definition, pattern and neurosis. We begin by admitting that we do not understand much at all.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if the religious leaders of the world could begin to discuss what we don’t know as opposed to fighting over what we do know? Could we have more peace if we admitted that we all are like lost children before the magnificence of God? If you do not understand much, that is a good place to begin. It is your own limitations that prevent you from understanding God, not God’s refusal to communicate. There is nothing that God wants more than to communicate with you.
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