My husband Bill and I have been on a most interesting journey these past seven months.
When Bill retired (his second retirement) from the ministry at the end of May, it was recommended by our denomination that we absent ourselves from the country church he had pastored for the past 7 years - for at least a year. This is to give the new pastor a change to establish herself without feeling like the “old” pastor was ever looking over her shoulder. Bill and I both think this is a good idea.
This was an opportunity to visit many of the churches we have wanted to visit, but difficult when you have pastoral responsibilities. So we plotted out a journey through a dozen or so churches, adding several more to our list as we went along.
We visited local churches, we visited far flung churches where the pastor was a friend, we visited start-up churches and long established churches. We visited churches in at least 6 different denominations ranging from “charismatic” to “main line”.
We heard some great sermons, some mediocre sermons (our opinion, of course) and a couple of sermons that made up want to get up and walk out (but we didn’t).
More interesting than the sermons was the reaction of the various congregations to our presence.
Last week Bill and I had an occasion to compare our reactions to those various congregations.
Hands down, no doubt, no comparison the most loving, the most inviting, the most genuine congregation was the church in Virginia that was trying to be a presence, to be a place of ministry, to the University of Virginia, in Charlottesville.
This congregation was multi-ethnic, multi-generational, multi-functional, and several more multis. We were warmly welcomed when we entered the sanctuary (a building no longer wanted by a different church). We were hugged after the service and stayed for nearly an hour talking to several people genuinely interested in us and our journey. They knew we would probably never be back but they embraced us anyway.
Our second favorite experience was the start-up congregation pastored by a dear friend (of a different denomination) whose ministry we have followed for 20 years (he was just a KID when we first got to know him).
Once again we were welcomed, embraced, folded into the congregational body – they certainly reflected our friend’s outgoing spirit – but it was more than just a reflection.
The rest of our experience was less than satisfying (with one exception). We visited several other start-up churches (reflecting three different denominations). One would expect these to be outgoing, encompassing, warm places just by the nature of the reason for their existence – BUT THEY WEREN’T. We felt like “outsiders” during our whole visit. If we had been seeking a new church home, if we had been seeking to find out who Christ is, what this “church thing” is all about, we would have left with our questions unanswered and probably never gone back, maybe even stopped searching.
We also visited several other well-established churches (because we knew the pastor) and the feeling of being an “outsider” was, perhaps, even more pronounced.
During the season of Advent Bill wanted to attend one church for the continuity of the season, the preaching, the experience. We chose a church close to us whose pastor is a friend and whose preaching makes our hearts sing.
We attended that church for six weeks, consecutively, and, other than two couples we knew previously, no one, NO ONE made an attempt to welcome us into the fold. It was almost as if we were invisible.
We also attended a local charismatic church. Charismatic by its very definition implies outgoing, engaging, compelling. Once again, however, we felt like outsiders and left knowing that we would never attend that church again.
The exception to all of the above was when Bill was invited to preach at a church he used to pastor. It was a homecoming like we have never before experienced. But, BUT, Bill had been the beloved pastor there, and we continue to have a relationship with many in that congregation.
So, we have been pondering what to do for the next five months, and what to do after these next five months, when we got The Phone Call.
“Hi, Dotti, this is Lorna.”
She is the new pastor of the church from which Bill retired. She is the pastor we are giving time to get adjusted.
Her call was to invite us, urge us, encourage us to return to the congregation. “Everyone wants you to come back.” We knew this already because every Christmas card, every chance meeting while shopping, even several phone calls wondered when we would be back.
Lorna assured me that she is feeling so comfortable, that this is such a “good fit” that our coming back won’t threaten her in any way.
And so…we went home.
It is good to be home, it is wonderful to be welcomed and loved and valued – but we are returning to what we already had at the time we left.
I am gravely concerned about the rest of our experience “out there”.
Jesus tells His disciples, not long before His arrest, “By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” As far back as the giving of the Law, the Jews were told to “welcome the stranger in your midst” and Jesus tells the crowd gathered that the “second commandment” is to “love your neighbor as yourself”.
We were overwhelmed by the lack of love we experienced. I know there are many, MANY churches out there who do show God’s love to all who come into their midst, but I fear there are even more churches who do not.
I fear that in many ways The Church in United States is becoming a cold, sterile, dead institution.
And I wonder, just as when the Jews wandered away from “loving God with their entire being” and this grieved God, is He not grieved today with what is happening in our country?
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Pondering Christmas
Ponder Number One:
Why that year? Why did God send His son that particular year? Why not 200 years earlier? Why not 2000 years earlier? Why not 100 years later, or 1000 years later?
Paul tells the Galatians, “In the fullness of time God sent His son…”
When the time was right, when it was God’s perfect time, He sent the Messiah to be born as a human baby.
Often we wonder, “Why now, Lord?” “Why is this happening to me NOW?”
God’s timing for when Christ was to be born, God’s timing for events in my life is also perfect.
Ponder Number Two:
Why in a stable? Where animals stayed and defecated on the floor?
And why did Mary lay her new-born baby in a manger, where animals ate?
Couldn’t God, the creator of the universes, have found a better place for His Son to begin life here?
If the Son of God could be born in a stable, if God’s Only Son was laid in a manger, how can I complain about any, ANY, of my own circumstances?
Ponder Number Three:
Why Mary? A young girl and not even married? And why Joseph? What did he do to be worthy of being foster father to God’s own son?
And why me? Why does God send His son into my life? When I think about this, really think about it, I am in awe!
Ponder Number Four:
Why did God send angles to SHEPHERDS??? Why not to the rabbis, or to the merchants, or to the women gathered at the town well? SHEPHERDS??? Smelly, dirty, calloused SHEPHERDS??? Shepherds near the bottom of the social order?
“They told everyone they met” about what they had seen, Luke tells us. Can people tell from the awe, the joy in my life, what I have seen?
Ponder Number Five:
Christ, the Messiah, the Redeemer came in a way that no one, NO ONE expected. At a time, in a place, to a couple, announced to nobodies, to redeem all of humankind. To make the once for all sacrifice for me.
There are multiple scriptures that tell us He will come again and Revelation tells us that “Death is gone for good – tears gone, crying gone, pain gone – all the first order of things is gone.” And there will be a new heaven and a new earth.
Even as we long for this to be, are we looking for The Christ, expecting the King of the Universes in much the same way the Jews looked for the Messiah 2000 years ago? Are we, will we be as mistaken as they? Or do we look for Him, and find Him in some of the most unexpected places, the most unexpected ways.
Even so, come Lord Jesus, come.
Amen
Why that year? Why did God send His son that particular year? Why not 200 years earlier? Why not 2000 years earlier? Why not 100 years later, or 1000 years later?
Paul tells the Galatians, “In the fullness of time God sent His son…”
When the time was right, when it was God’s perfect time, He sent the Messiah to be born as a human baby.
Often we wonder, “Why now, Lord?” “Why is this happening to me NOW?”
God’s timing for when Christ was to be born, God’s timing for events in my life is also perfect.
Ponder Number Two:
Why in a stable? Where animals stayed and defecated on the floor?
And why did Mary lay her new-born baby in a manger, where animals ate?
Couldn’t God, the creator of the universes, have found a better place for His Son to begin life here?
If the Son of God could be born in a stable, if God’s Only Son was laid in a manger, how can I complain about any, ANY, of my own circumstances?
Ponder Number Three:
Why Mary? A young girl and not even married? And why Joseph? What did he do to be worthy of being foster father to God’s own son?
And why me? Why does God send His son into my life? When I think about this, really think about it, I am in awe!
Ponder Number Four:
Why did God send angles to SHEPHERDS??? Why not to the rabbis, or to the merchants, or to the women gathered at the town well? SHEPHERDS??? Smelly, dirty, calloused SHEPHERDS??? Shepherds near the bottom of the social order?
“They told everyone they met” about what they had seen, Luke tells us. Can people tell from the awe, the joy in my life, what I have seen?
Ponder Number Five:
Christ, the Messiah, the Redeemer came in a way that no one, NO ONE expected. At a time, in a place, to a couple, announced to nobodies, to redeem all of humankind. To make the once for all sacrifice for me.
There are multiple scriptures that tell us He will come again and Revelation tells us that “Death is gone for good – tears gone, crying gone, pain gone – all the first order of things is gone.” And there will be a new heaven and a new earth.
Even as we long for this to be, are we looking for The Christ, expecting the King of the Universes in much the same way the Jews looked for the Messiah 2000 years ago? Are we, will we be as mistaken as they? Or do we look for Him, and find Him in some of the most unexpected places, the most unexpected ways.
Even so, come Lord Jesus, come.
Amen
Thursday, November 17, 2011
I'm a Little Pinch Pot
Recently a friend of mine, who is an artist, gave me a little pottery pinch pot she had made. It was supposed to be a votive candle holder, but somehow in the firing, or something, it is not quite large enough to hold a votive.
I love my little pinch pot – because my friend made it and it will ever remind me of her.
When I got my gift home, I quickly realized that my little pinch pot is the perfect base for a stone ball I made this summer. The two “made” items look like they were made for each other.
As I placed these artistic expressions on my shelf, I thought of those verses in Isaiah 64:8 “Yet you, LORD, are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand.”
The imagery of us as clay in God’s hands has always appealed to me. If you have ever worked with clay you know that it indeed has to be “worked”. Clay usually has to be kneaded until it is soft enough, pliable enough, to be made into whatever the potter has in mind. The potter designs a vessel, an art object, a bowl, then s/he has to work with the clay, shaping it on the wheel, building it up as a coil, or pinching and shaping as my friend had done.
If the pot collapses on the wheel, if the side of a coiled vessel caves in, if the pinch pot doesn’t look as one envisioned, the clay can be returned to it’s lump form, worked again, and then molded again. In fact, that can be done over and over until the desired object has the appearance the potter envisioned.
Isaiah uses this imagery for our lives as well. God is ever molding us, ever shaping us. When our lives collapse or cave in or we just don’t become what He intended for us, He is ever working us and reshaping us to become that image, that work of art that He designed us to be in the first place.
My little pinch pot has been fired, it is dry and the only way to reshape it would be to smash it, grind it to powder and then turn it into clay again.
But we are made of living clay and as long as we walk this life, the Potter is ever ready and willing to continue to shape us into the image He designed us to be – His image.
I love my little pinch pot – because my friend made it and it will ever remind me of her.
When I got my gift home, I quickly realized that my little pinch pot is the perfect base for a stone ball I made this summer. The two “made” items look like they were made for each other.
As I placed these artistic expressions on my shelf, I thought of those verses in Isaiah 64:8 “Yet you, LORD, are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand.”
The imagery of us as clay in God’s hands has always appealed to me. If you have ever worked with clay you know that it indeed has to be “worked”. Clay usually has to be kneaded until it is soft enough, pliable enough, to be made into whatever the potter has in mind. The potter designs a vessel, an art object, a bowl, then s/he has to work with the clay, shaping it on the wheel, building it up as a coil, or pinching and shaping as my friend had done.
If the pot collapses on the wheel, if the side of a coiled vessel caves in, if the pinch pot doesn’t look as one envisioned, the clay can be returned to it’s lump form, worked again, and then molded again. In fact, that can be done over and over until the desired object has the appearance the potter envisioned.
Isaiah uses this imagery for our lives as well. God is ever molding us, ever shaping us. When our lives collapse or cave in or we just don’t become what He intended for us, He is ever working us and reshaping us to become that image, that work of art that He designed us to be in the first place.
My little pinch pot has been fired, it is dry and the only way to reshape it would be to smash it, grind it to powder and then turn it into clay again.
But we are made of living clay and as long as we walk this life, the Potter is ever ready and willing to continue to shape us into the image He designed us to be – His image.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Praying the Lord's Prayer
Recently a friend asked me to pray for them. I agreed, but later was not sure what to ask God for on their behalf. I did not think that what they had asked me to pray for was in keeping with God’s teaching for our lives. So I asked God to do what He already knows is best for them and left my prayer there.
While I pondered how to pray for my friend, I heard a pastor we were visiting mention a part of the Lord’s Prayer (or The Our Father). And then it all clicked.
Unfortunately, because most of us were encouraged to memorize the Lord’s Prayer when we were children, and because many of us recite some form of that prayer every week in church, it has lost, or perhaps never had, its meaning for us. We say it by rote and Christ’s teaching when he gave this to his disciples is lost on us.
You will remember that one of the disciples had asked Jesus to teach them to pray and he responded “This, then, is how you should pray…” (Matthew 6 also Luke 11) and he gave them the outline of what we have come to call “The Lord’s Prayer”.
As I repeated the prayer in my head, I suddenly saw that this is a pattern that we can pray, not only for ourselves, but also for others. I have been “praying the Lord’s Prayer“ for my friends and family ever since.
I begin by acknowledging who God is – my Father, the Holy One – and asking that my grandchildren, my children, my friends, and Bill and I see God in all that He desires for us to see this day.
Then I ask that His will be done in my grandchildren’s, my children’s, my friends, and Bill’s and my life this day as His will is done in heaven. That would almost seem enough to pray…but Christ went on.
I ask that God will supply everyone’s needs (bread) this day. I ask that we will ever continue to learn to forgive and to be forgiven. I ask that God Himself will protect all of us from “The Evil One” in all the ways that we will need to be protected this day.
And finally I ask that God be given the glory and the honor and the power in all of our lives this day. That each and all I pray for will see His glory and honor and power at work in their lives.
I still talk to God about some very specific things in the lives of those I pray for, but I have not told God what to do for a very long time – I realized that audacity of that a number of years ago. I know, I KNOW, that He knows far better than I do what is best in each situation. I still pour out my heart in sorrow, and sing out my joy when we talk, just as Jesus must have those many times when “he went up on the mountain to talk to his father.”
As I talk to God about each of the many people of my prayer list, following the pattern Jesus taught his disciples, I have been able to leave each of them in His care…I just wait to see how He will work in their lives. And then I say, “thank you.”
While I pondered how to pray for my friend, I heard a pastor we were visiting mention a part of the Lord’s Prayer (or The Our Father). And then it all clicked.
Unfortunately, because most of us were encouraged to memorize the Lord’s Prayer when we were children, and because many of us recite some form of that prayer every week in church, it has lost, or perhaps never had, its meaning for us. We say it by rote and Christ’s teaching when he gave this to his disciples is lost on us.
You will remember that one of the disciples had asked Jesus to teach them to pray and he responded “This, then, is how you should pray…” (Matthew 6 also Luke 11) and he gave them the outline of what we have come to call “The Lord’s Prayer”.
As I repeated the prayer in my head, I suddenly saw that this is a pattern that we can pray, not only for ourselves, but also for others. I have been “praying the Lord’s Prayer“ for my friends and family ever since.
I begin by acknowledging who God is – my Father, the Holy One – and asking that my grandchildren, my children, my friends, and Bill and I see God in all that He desires for us to see this day.
Then I ask that His will be done in my grandchildren’s, my children’s, my friends, and Bill’s and my life this day as His will is done in heaven. That would almost seem enough to pray…but Christ went on.
I ask that God will supply everyone’s needs (bread) this day. I ask that we will ever continue to learn to forgive and to be forgiven. I ask that God Himself will protect all of us from “The Evil One” in all the ways that we will need to be protected this day.
And finally I ask that God be given the glory and the honor and the power in all of our lives this day. That each and all I pray for will see His glory and honor and power at work in their lives.
I still talk to God about some very specific things in the lives of those I pray for, but I have not told God what to do for a very long time – I realized that audacity of that a number of years ago. I know, I KNOW, that He knows far better than I do what is best in each situation. I still pour out my heart in sorrow, and sing out my joy when we talk, just as Jesus must have those many times when “he went up on the mountain to talk to his father.”
As I talk to God about each of the many people of my prayer list, following the pattern Jesus taught his disciples, I have been able to leave each of them in His care…I just wait to see how He will work in their lives. And then I say, “thank you.”
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Waiting A Long Time
“There was a man who had two sons. The younger one said to his father, ‘Father, give me my share of the estate.’ So he divided his property between them.
“Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living. After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need. So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything.
“When he came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants.’ So he got up and went to his father.
“But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.
“The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’
“But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate.
“Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. ‘Your brother has come,’ he replied, ‘and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.’
“The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. But he answered his father, ‘Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!’
“‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’”
I can picture him standing there, peering at the horizon. Perhaps this is the day -perhaps today his son would come home.
Maybe each day the father goes to a certain place where he can see far into the distance and looks to the horizon. Perhaps it is several times a day. Luke 15 doesn’t really tell us how often the father looks for his son. It only says, “When he was still a long way off, his father saw him…”
Last week we had lunch with a good friend. She came by for lunch, and we talked for more than 3 hours. Mostly Bill and I listened as she filled us in on the past year and her concerns for her recently turned-18-year-old daughter.
Our friend doesn’t have an inheritance to share, but the daughter had claimed her newly adult status to leave home and engage in a number of risky behaviors. As we talked, our friend said that she had repeatedly told her daughter that she can come home at any time.
As I listened to my friend, I sought for those words of comfort, something to say that would “make it all better”. But I found no magic words. Just as there were no magic words when our own daughter made some scary choices and we waited for her to come home.
These are those times when it is inappropriate to say, “It will be o.k.”, “everything will turn out all right”, “just hang in there”. We only have to look around us to see that young people’s decisions (and lots of older people as well) don’t always turn out “o.k.”, things are quite often not “all right”. They, and we, can make decisions that have consequences that endure the rest of our lives.
As I listened to our friend I thought again of that father of the “wayward son” (or Prodigal Son, if you prefer). When I was in despair, the story Christ told of the father “hanging in there” for what must have seemed a VERY long time, was a great comfort and encouragement to me.
And when the son does return home, willing to be treated as a servant, Luke says the father wasn’t listening. He was calling to the servants, ‘Quick, bring a clean set of clothes…’
When our daughter did finally return home, it was NOT a time to reprimand her; it was a time for clean clothes and a feast…
Over the years Bill and I have watched God take this terribly bleak time in all our lives and teach us - bring good out of it all. If nothing else, this catastrophic event in our family has taught me more than perhaps any other one incident.
It took our daughter a long time to heal. It will take our friend’s daughter a long time to heal. I am SURE it took the wayward son a long time to heal. But in that process, in that long time of healing, there is learning, revelation, an insight that comes as a result.
Rob Bell in Love Wins, has a most interesting insight on the older brother. He wasn’t so thrilled by this younger brother who had taken his half of the inheritance and “thrown it away on whores”. He wouldn’t even attend the feast his father had thrown to celebrate his brother’s return.
Rob says the older brother is a lot like many of us, he has access to everything the father has to offer, but he doesn’t take advantage, he doesn’t enjoy it, he just trudges through the chores each day with no joy at just being with the father.
As I look at my own life, there are times when I am like the younger son. I take “the money” and run – I enjoy what God has provided for me, but I do not enjoy it in His presence. There are other times when I am like the older son - not even taking advantage of all that God has for me all around me.
But just as He was for our daughter, just as He will be for our friend’s child, God is ever looking for me to return…and when we do – He throws a FEAST!
“Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living. After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need. So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything.
“When he came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants.’ So he got up and went to his father.
“But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.
“The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’
“But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate.
“Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. ‘Your brother has come,’ he replied, ‘and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.’
“The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. But he answered his father, ‘Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!’
“‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’”
I can picture him standing there, peering at the horizon. Perhaps this is the day -perhaps today his son would come home.
Maybe each day the father goes to a certain place where he can see far into the distance and looks to the horizon. Perhaps it is several times a day. Luke 15 doesn’t really tell us how often the father looks for his son. It only says, “When he was still a long way off, his father saw him…”
Last week we had lunch with a good friend. She came by for lunch, and we talked for more than 3 hours. Mostly Bill and I listened as she filled us in on the past year and her concerns for her recently turned-18-year-old daughter.
Our friend doesn’t have an inheritance to share, but the daughter had claimed her newly adult status to leave home and engage in a number of risky behaviors. As we talked, our friend said that she had repeatedly told her daughter that she can come home at any time.
As I listened to my friend, I sought for those words of comfort, something to say that would “make it all better”. But I found no magic words. Just as there were no magic words when our own daughter made some scary choices and we waited for her to come home.
These are those times when it is inappropriate to say, “It will be o.k.”, “everything will turn out all right”, “just hang in there”. We only have to look around us to see that young people’s decisions (and lots of older people as well) don’t always turn out “o.k.”, things are quite often not “all right”. They, and we, can make decisions that have consequences that endure the rest of our lives.
As I listened to our friend I thought again of that father of the “wayward son” (or Prodigal Son, if you prefer). When I was in despair, the story Christ told of the father “hanging in there” for what must have seemed a VERY long time, was a great comfort and encouragement to me.
And when the son does return home, willing to be treated as a servant, Luke says the father wasn’t listening. He was calling to the servants, ‘Quick, bring a clean set of clothes…’
When our daughter did finally return home, it was NOT a time to reprimand her; it was a time for clean clothes and a feast…
Over the years Bill and I have watched God take this terribly bleak time in all our lives and teach us - bring good out of it all. If nothing else, this catastrophic event in our family has taught me more than perhaps any other one incident.
It took our daughter a long time to heal. It will take our friend’s daughter a long time to heal. I am SURE it took the wayward son a long time to heal. But in that process, in that long time of healing, there is learning, revelation, an insight that comes as a result.
Rob Bell in Love Wins, has a most interesting insight on the older brother. He wasn’t so thrilled by this younger brother who had taken his half of the inheritance and “thrown it away on whores”. He wouldn’t even attend the feast his father had thrown to celebrate his brother’s return.
Rob says the older brother is a lot like many of us, he has access to everything the father has to offer, but he doesn’t take advantage, he doesn’t enjoy it, he just trudges through the chores each day with no joy at just being with the father.
As I look at my own life, there are times when I am like the younger son. I take “the money” and run – I enjoy what God has provided for me, but I do not enjoy it in His presence. There are other times when I am like the older son - not even taking advantage of all that God has for me all around me.
But just as He was for our daughter, just as He will be for our friend’s child, God is ever looking for me to return…and when we do – He throws a FEAST!
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Love Your Neighbor as Yourself
This morning Bill and I were talking about politics and some what-ifs in light of all that is happening in both our country and our state at the moment.
The more we talked the more I thought about how we are supposed to live together as God would have us. Jesus said “love your neighbor as yourself.” You will remember when asked who one’s neighbor is, he told the story of the “Good Samaritan” – the Jews most hated neighbors. Paul repeats this admonition in several of his letters and James picks up the theme as well. Must be important!
Many folks in the United States like to call us a Christian Nation but I see very few living out this ever so simple, but ever so complex commandment of Christ’s.
I have naively thought that the current “hard times” might draw us closer together as neighbors, but it seems to have made people more self-centered than ever. I suppose that is the “natural” course of events with humankind – when our “stuff” is threatened, we tend to hug it closer and become more guarded and protective of what is ours.
But what if, what if we did our best to live as Christ said we must? What if we did our best to love our neighbor as we love ourselves?
There is both great value in being the “united states” that our country is, and great stress.
We only have to barely glance at Europe to realize that commerce, transportation, communication and a very long list of other things are so much easier when there are only state lines to cross rather than country borders. But anyone who might think that we are very much alike because we are “united” states is not looking very carefully. We are a great variety – hodge-podge, if you will – of different people with different ethnic backgrounds, different religions, different histories etc. We have a tendency to drift toward living with others more like ourselves than different and soon we become a bunch of areas with different agendas, different goals, different outlooks on what is right and wrong, good and not so good.
If, and I emphasize if, we were governed by wise heads, and if, again I emphasize if, we were to live and make laws according to Christ’s command, we would quickly see that some laws need to be federal laws to govern the whole of our united states for the greatest good for everyone. Some of these laws may not be as convenient for folks in Wisconsin and Minnesota, but they are what is best for the Gulf Coast states and in the long run, that is best for all of us as a whole. And vice versa.
There are other laws that are best made by individual states because they mostly affect only the people living in that geographic area. And, obviously, other laws are only needed for certain counties, or certain cities etc. because the “neighborhood” is all that needs to be regulated.
But back to living as “loving your neighbor”. It is certainly true in Wisconsin and I suspect in almost every other state, that there have been tremendous cut backs at the federal level, which means cut backs at the state level, which means cut backs at the city (etc) level.
In order to deal with some of these cutbacks, as fairly as possible, I suspect/hope, our city decided to reassess all property owners. The result has been a somewhat modest anticipated tax increase. I have been appalled at the outcry this has produced.
Our city has less resources to work with, but the demands on those resources has, if anything, increased. Seemingly without thinking, people want their quality of life to continue, or even improve, while the city has less to work with.
If I am to live as though I love my neighbor as myself, then I must accept, even embrace that I must pay a bit more so that the good of the whole can continue.
Further, I believe that the word “love” implies a certain attitude. I am not really loving my husband, my family, my friends if I am begrudging in the way I talk, behave, think. Love, implies not just acceptance, but a certain eagerness, a certain joyfulness, a moving toward the person I love, not a pulling away.
Love implies that I look to do the best, provide the best for the other person/persons. Love demands a balanced way of treating all those I claim to care about.
Loving my husband means, for me, providing the best meals I am capable of providing. It does NOT mean I only make desserts, it DOES mean that I look to provide the best possible nutrition in the tastiest way possible within the budget with which I have to work. It sometimes means cooking when I really don’t feel like cooking. It does mean making certain dishes that he loves but I really don’t care for all that much. It also means that when we sit down to a meal together I ENJOY that time we have together and I take a certain joy in participating in the provision of that meal.
Loving the neighborhood (in ever widening circles of what Christ meant by the term “neighbor”) means that I try to figure of what is the best good that I can provide for myself and those around me (in that ever widening circle).
Here are just a few things that I have thought of:
Loving the neighborhood means that I recycle as best I can, even when I am not at home. Sometimes when Bill and I are on vacation, and there is no recycling available where we are staying, we have brought “stuff” home to put in our recycling here.
Loving the neighborhood means that I give to the local food pantry, for us, just a bit more than we think we can afford. When we travel to Chicago we make sure we have a few singles to hand to those “panhandling” at several of the lights where we have to stop. I know this is controversial, but I would hope someone would do this for me, were the situation reversed.
Loving the neighborhood means changing my attitude and then working on keeping it in the right place, about those of a different ethnic background, a different cultural background, a different religion, etc. Remember the example was a Samaritan – the despised of Jesus’ day.
Loving doesn’t just mean being polite to them, it means reaching out toward them in so many different ways. And when we reach out our attitude can’t be with condescension, but with joy, looking for the good for them, for us.
This opens us up, as Christians, for a huge debate on issues like immigration, universal language, true freedom of religion, and on and on.
But, can you imagine what our world, our nation, even our city would be like if we governed ourselves after Christ’s command to “love our neighbor as ourselves”? It wouldn’t be easy, but can you imagine?
The more we talked the more I thought about how we are supposed to live together as God would have us. Jesus said “love your neighbor as yourself.” You will remember when asked who one’s neighbor is, he told the story of the “Good Samaritan” – the Jews most hated neighbors. Paul repeats this admonition in several of his letters and James picks up the theme as well. Must be important!
Many folks in the United States like to call us a Christian Nation but I see very few living out this ever so simple, but ever so complex commandment of Christ’s.
I have naively thought that the current “hard times” might draw us closer together as neighbors, but it seems to have made people more self-centered than ever. I suppose that is the “natural” course of events with humankind – when our “stuff” is threatened, we tend to hug it closer and become more guarded and protective of what is ours.
But what if, what if we did our best to live as Christ said we must? What if we did our best to love our neighbor as we love ourselves?
There is both great value in being the “united states” that our country is, and great stress.
We only have to barely glance at Europe to realize that commerce, transportation, communication and a very long list of other things are so much easier when there are only state lines to cross rather than country borders. But anyone who might think that we are very much alike because we are “united” states is not looking very carefully. We are a great variety – hodge-podge, if you will – of different people with different ethnic backgrounds, different religions, different histories etc. We have a tendency to drift toward living with others more like ourselves than different and soon we become a bunch of areas with different agendas, different goals, different outlooks on what is right and wrong, good and not so good.
If, and I emphasize if, we were governed by wise heads, and if, again I emphasize if, we were to live and make laws according to Christ’s command, we would quickly see that some laws need to be federal laws to govern the whole of our united states for the greatest good for everyone. Some of these laws may not be as convenient for folks in Wisconsin and Minnesota, but they are what is best for the Gulf Coast states and in the long run, that is best for all of us as a whole. And vice versa.
There are other laws that are best made by individual states because they mostly affect only the people living in that geographic area. And, obviously, other laws are only needed for certain counties, or certain cities etc. because the “neighborhood” is all that needs to be regulated.
But back to living as “loving your neighbor”. It is certainly true in Wisconsin and I suspect in almost every other state, that there have been tremendous cut backs at the federal level, which means cut backs at the state level, which means cut backs at the city (etc) level.
In order to deal with some of these cutbacks, as fairly as possible, I suspect/hope, our city decided to reassess all property owners. The result has been a somewhat modest anticipated tax increase. I have been appalled at the outcry this has produced.
Our city has less resources to work with, but the demands on those resources has, if anything, increased. Seemingly without thinking, people want their quality of life to continue, or even improve, while the city has less to work with.
If I am to live as though I love my neighbor as myself, then I must accept, even embrace that I must pay a bit more so that the good of the whole can continue.
Further, I believe that the word “love” implies a certain attitude. I am not really loving my husband, my family, my friends if I am begrudging in the way I talk, behave, think. Love, implies not just acceptance, but a certain eagerness, a certain joyfulness, a moving toward the person I love, not a pulling away.
Love implies that I look to do the best, provide the best for the other person/persons. Love demands a balanced way of treating all those I claim to care about.
Loving my husband means, for me, providing the best meals I am capable of providing. It does NOT mean I only make desserts, it DOES mean that I look to provide the best possible nutrition in the tastiest way possible within the budget with which I have to work. It sometimes means cooking when I really don’t feel like cooking. It does mean making certain dishes that he loves but I really don’t care for all that much. It also means that when we sit down to a meal together I ENJOY that time we have together and I take a certain joy in participating in the provision of that meal.
Loving the neighborhood (in ever widening circles of what Christ meant by the term “neighbor”) means that I try to figure of what is the best good that I can provide for myself and those around me (in that ever widening circle).
Here are just a few things that I have thought of:
Loving the neighborhood means that I recycle as best I can, even when I am not at home. Sometimes when Bill and I are on vacation, and there is no recycling available where we are staying, we have brought “stuff” home to put in our recycling here.
Loving the neighborhood means that I give to the local food pantry, for us, just a bit more than we think we can afford. When we travel to Chicago we make sure we have a few singles to hand to those “panhandling” at several of the lights where we have to stop. I know this is controversial, but I would hope someone would do this for me, were the situation reversed.
Loving the neighborhood means changing my attitude and then working on keeping it in the right place, about those of a different ethnic background, a different cultural background, a different religion, etc. Remember the example was a Samaritan – the despised of Jesus’ day.
Loving doesn’t just mean being polite to them, it means reaching out toward them in so many different ways. And when we reach out our attitude can’t be with condescension, but with joy, looking for the good for them, for us.
This opens us up, as Christians, for a huge debate on issues like immigration, universal language, true freedom of religion, and on and on.
But, can you imagine what our world, our nation, even our city would be like if we governed ourselves after Christ’s command to “love our neighbor as ourselves”? It wouldn’t be easy, but can you imagine?
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Saying the Right Thing
We recently attended the funeral service of a dear friend. She was 92 and as her son reminded us, she was not there, but in Jesus’ presence.
Because Bill has been a minister off and on in our 46 year marriage, and because we are getting older ourselves, we have been to many funerals. Some funerals are occasions of desperate sadness, some are just a ceremony to end a long time dying, some are an obligation, but some are a celebration. This funeral was a celebration!
Lurene was loved by many people and the church was packed. Her son’s eulogy was a joy-filled remembrance of his mother who had more spiritual impact on his life than, as he said, everyone else combined.
When it was time for sharing, family member after family member stood to share their happy memories of this woman and nearly everyone mentioned her spiritual life. A friend of mine stood and, with barely contained tears, told how as a young mother and newly moved into Lurene’s neighborhood, she had asked Lurene how she was so confident in her relationship with Christ. Lurene (who had no schooling past high school) patiently and gently took this young woman through the book of Romans and explained how Christ had paid the price for our sins – once for all.
The friend sitting next to me whispered if I was going to share what I had told her earlier that day. But my memories were not for public consumption.
When we first moved to that city, and joined that church, I felt so rejected by not only the community, but most of the people in that church. There are some (probably many) communities where you need to have lived there and raised your children there in order to “fit”, to be accepted. We moved after our children were raised and I never did “fit” in. But, Lurene took me in, accepted me for whom I was, rejoiced with me in my relationship to God, and never once gave me advice.
Every time she saw me at church her face lit up with pleasure to see me. When we formed a little group to “pray in” a new pastor, her prayers were mostly praising God for who He is.
I’m not sure I ever heard Lurene say anything negative about another person.
This was not a self-righteous restraint, it was who she genuinely was. Every person she met was a precious person to her. She truly seemed to see them through Christ’s eyes – as someone loved by God.
As her son closed his eulogy he said that if we wanted to keep Lurene with us, if we didn’t want her spirit to die, we should emulate her. We should carry on loving one another the way she did.
James says “the tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts…it corrupts the whole person..with the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men..” (3:1-12)
I have been wrestling my tongue all my life. I have participated in my share of gossip. I have done my share of complaining about…many things. I have gotten angry and said those things that the moment they leave your mouth, you would take them back, but never can. I have wounded and even destroyed several friendships with my mouth.
Lately I have come to see that we often wound with our advice. Perhaps we mean well, but often advice is really a criticism of the other person, and if not asked for, it is usually not wanted. We justify ourselves that we are trying to help the other person, we are sharing our wisdom, we are… But if we are honest, we are being critical.
Perhaps we are the most at fault with our own families, with our grown children, with siblings, no doubt with aging parents. We seem to feel freer to fling out those arrows of advice to those closest to us.
We have several friends whose grown children have cut them off because of “advice”. And how many friendships have been destroyed by “advice”?
After Lurene’s funeral I wrestled with my own faults of my tongue; I am resolving that as much as I can, as God continues to help me, I will use my tongue as an instrument of praising Him, of building up those around me, of only sharing what I am certain the Holy Spirit is prompting me to share.
I suspect I will be learning this for the rest of whatever time God has for me on this earth. When I enter His presence I want Him to say, “Well, done, good and faithful servant. You finally said the right things!”
Because Bill has been a minister off and on in our 46 year marriage, and because we are getting older ourselves, we have been to many funerals. Some funerals are occasions of desperate sadness, some are just a ceremony to end a long time dying, some are an obligation, but some are a celebration. This funeral was a celebration!
Lurene was loved by many people and the church was packed. Her son’s eulogy was a joy-filled remembrance of his mother who had more spiritual impact on his life than, as he said, everyone else combined.
When it was time for sharing, family member after family member stood to share their happy memories of this woman and nearly everyone mentioned her spiritual life. A friend of mine stood and, with barely contained tears, told how as a young mother and newly moved into Lurene’s neighborhood, she had asked Lurene how she was so confident in her relationship with Christ. Lurene (who had no schooling past high school) patiently and gently took this young woman through the book of Romans and explained how Christ had paid the price for our sins – once for all.
The friend sitting next to me whispered if I was going to share what I had told her earlier that day. But my memories were not for public consumption.
When we first moved to that city, and joined that church, I felt so rejected by not only the community, but most of the people in that church. There are some (probably many) communities where you need to have lived there and raised your children there in order to “fit”, to be accepted. We moved after our children were raised and I never did “fit” in. But, Lurene took me in, accepted me for whom I was, rejoiced with me in my relationship to God, and never once gave me advice.
Every time she saw me at church her face lit up with pleasure to see me. When we formed a little group to “pray in” a new pastor, her prayers were mostly praising God for who He is.
I’m not sure I ever heard Lurene say anything negative about another person.
This was not a self-righteous restraint, it was who she genuinely was. Every person she met was a precious person to her. She truly seemed to see them through Christ’s eyes – as someone loved by God.
As her son closed his eulogy he said that if we wanted to keep Lurene with us, if we didn’t want her spirit to die, we should emulate her. We should carry on loving one another the way she did.
James says “the tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts…it corrupts the whole person..with the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men..” (3:1-12)
I have been wrestling my tongue all my life. I have participated in my share of gossip. I have done my share of complaining about…many things. I have gotten angry and said those things that the moment they leave your mouth, you would take them back, but never can. I have wounded and even destroyed several friendships with my mouth.
Lately I have come to see that we often wound with our advice. Perhaps we mean well, but often advice is really a criticism of the other person, and if not asked for, it is usually not wanted. We justify ourselves that we are trying to help the other person, we are sharing our wisdom, we are… But if we are honest, we are being critical.
Perhaps we are the most at fault with our own families, with our grown children, with siblings, no doubt with aging parents. We seem to feel freer to fling out those arrows of advice to those closest to us.
We have several friends whose grown children have cut them off because of “advice”. And how many friendships have been destroyed by “advice”?
After Lurene’s funeral I wrestled with my own faults of my tongue; I am resolving that as much as I can, as God continues to help me, I will use my tongue as an instrument of praising Him, of building up those around me, of only sharing what I am certain the Holy Spirit is prompting me to share.
I suspect I will be learning this for the rest of whatever time God has for me on this earth. When I enter His presence I want Him to say, “Well, done, good and faithful servant. You finally said the right things!”
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