“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!
Saturday, September 17, 2011
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!”
Monday, May 16, 2011
Thniking Outside The Box
In the American Church we often find ourselves promoting our church, our heritage, our roots, our history rather than living a life that is characterized by our daily “walk with The King”.
It is easy to slip into that trap of “this is how we always did that” or “this is what the founding fathers/mothers intended for this church to be” or “this is how we practice Christianity in the good ole USA, which is a Christian nation”.
We end up often resembling the Pharisees with whom Jesus had so many problems.
“Walking with The King” on a daily basis is work. It means we have to let go of ourselves, let go of our preconceived ideas of what our spiritual life should look like and walk with Him each day. It means being open to the direction He wants life to take that day, that week, that month – even when it doesn’t make a lot of sense at the moment. Even when that goes against what other Christians around us say our life should look like. It often means “stepping out on a limb”.
I believe that “walking with The King” is always consistent with Scripture, but not always consistent with the way Scripture has been interpreted for us.
We have a classic example in Scripture – Most Jews were convinced that the Messiah would be a politically savvy person, one who would free them from Rome’s control (or Assyria’s control, or Babylon’s control in the past). Almost no one “got it” - that the Messiah was coming to free them from spiritual bondage.
Much of Jesus’ ministry was to tell those following him, those listening, over and over that He came to bring spiritual life, spiritual wholeness – that worshiping the Father was to be “in spirit and in truth”. Even the disciples did not “get it” until after Pentecost when the promised spiritual counselor came to indwell them and help them “get it” at last.
Even after the Holy Spirit came, the Church did not understand that Christ’s return, His “second coming”, was not to be the next week, or next month, or next year. If you read Paul’s letters, he is ever looking for Christ’s return.
In a similar way I think we often don’t “get it”. We (throughout the history of The Church) work on figuring out what Jesus meant, what Paul meant, etc. and then we run with it. As human beings we are so prone to creating “a formula” and then living within the bounds of that formula.
We have TWO commandments to keep – love God with our entire being, love our neighbor as ourselves. Sounds simple, but it takes a lifetime to “get it right” and even then almost no one finishes having figured it all out.
It is SO MUCH easier to create a formula to “love God with our entire being” and then live within that formula. “Walking with The King” each day means figuring out how to love Him anew each day. That seems to be too tiring for the majority of us.
And, once I have figured out who my neighbor is, and what I have to do to show that I love her/him, then I can relax and just “do the formula”. The problem is, the neighborhood keeps changing. EXHAUSTING!!!
Walking with The King often means He reveals more of Himself to us as the journey continues and we have to adjust to our new, expanded view of God. Walking with The King often means He points our more and more neighbors and more and more needs (WAY beyond just feeding them and giving them our unwanted clothes) and we have to figure out what “loving them as ourselves” really means – usually something uncomfortable I have found.
BUT Walking with The King also means that a whole new world opens up continually, there are delights around every corner along the path, often preceded by pain I have found. To know Him, to walk with Him each day is a joy that cannot even be explained, it can only be experienced.
In future weeks in this blog we will continue to explore what we do when our churches become locked into a formula. It is a problem The Church has wrestled with for 2,000 years, and since the beginning of time in reality.
Please share your own story, your own ideas. Let’s grow together!
It is easy to slip into that trap of “this is how we always did that” or “this is what the founding fathers/mothers intended for this church to be” or “this is how we practice Christianity in the good ole USA, which is a Christian nation”.
We end up often resembling the Pharisees with whom Jesus had so many problems.
“Walking with The King” on a daily basis is work. It means we have to let go of ourselves, let go of our preconceived ideas of what our spiritual life should look like and walk with Him each day. It means being open to the direction He wants life to take that day, that week, that month – even when it doesn’t make a lot of sense at the moment. Even when that goes against what other Christians around us say our life should look like. It often means “stepping out on a limb”.
I believe that “walking with The King” is always consistent with Scripture, but not always consistent with the way Scripture has been interpreted for us.
We have a classic example in Scripture – Most Jews were convinced that the Messiah would be a politically savvy person, one who would free them from Rome’s control (or Assyria’s control, or Babylon’s control in the past). Almost no one “got it” - that the Messiah was coming to free them from spiritual bondage.
Much of Jesus’ ministry was to tell those following him, those listening, over and over that He came to bring spiritual life, spiritual wholeness – that worshiping the Father was to be “in spirit and in truth”. Even the disciples did not “get it” until after Pentecost when the promised spiritual counselor came to indwell them and help them “get it” at last.
Even after the Holy Spirit came, the Church did not understand that Christ’s return, His “second coming”, was not to be the next week, or next month, or next year. If you read Paul’s letters, he is ever looking for Christ’s return.
In a similar way I think we often don’t “get it”. We (throughout the history of The Church) work on figuring out what Jesus meant, what Paul meant, etc. and then we run with it. As human beings we are so prone to creating “a formula” and then living within the bounds of that formula.
We have TWO commandments to keep – love God with our entire being, love our neighbor as ourselves. Sounds simple, but it takes a lifetime to “get it right” and even then almost no one finishes having figured it all out.
It is SO MUCH easier to create a formula to “love God with our entire being” and then live within that formula. “Walking with The King” each day means figuring out how to love Him anew each day. That seems to be too tiring for the majority of us.
And, once I have figured out who my neighbor is, and what I have to do to show that I love her/him, then I can relax and just “do the formula”. The problem is, the neighborhood keeps changing. EXHAUSTING!!!
Walking with The King often means He reveals more of Himself to us as the journey continues and we have to adjust to our new, expanded view of God. Walking with The King often means He points our more and more neighbors and more and more needs (WAY beyond just feeding them and giving them our unwanted clothes) and we have to figure out what “loving them as ourselves” really means – usually something uncomfortable I have found.
BUT Walking with The King also means that a whole new world opens up continually, there are delights around every corner along the path, often preceded by pain I have found. To know Him, to walk with Him each day is a joy that cannot even be explained, it can only be experienced.
In future weeks in this blog we will continue to explore what we do when our churches become locked into a formula. It is a problem The Church has wrestled with for 2,000 years, and since the beginning of time in reality.
Please share your own story, your own ideas. Let’s grow together!
Friday, April 15, 2011
Installment Three - The Body - The Church
This is the third, and final installment of my anthology about my injured hand and The Church.
During this six week process the feet have been just a bit smug about their role of being “rooted and grounded” and proclaiming to the rest of the body that they have to take on the whole weight of the body and convey it from place to place.
Then, in the dark of night, the foot, not looking where it was going, stubbed its toe – it has been strangely silent about the woes of the hands ever since. In fact, it was quite ashamed of the way it stumbled and limped for several days.
There is one final event that has taken place between the two hands. After the initial pain began to ease it was replaced with an ache, common to many broken bones. Sometimes the ache would wake me up at night because there was no position where the right arm did not hurt. One night the left hand began to caress and stroke the right hand and arm. Suddenly the ache began to lessen. As the right hand began to relax, under the stroking of the left hand, the ache diminished. Now the left hand will often stroke and massage the right hand – and the healing continues.
In I Corinthians 12 Paul tells us that "The Body is a unit, though it is made up of many parts...and so it is with Christ." He goes on to say "If one part suffers, every part suffers with it..."
We are the Body of Christ and we need to function as a whole, but when one part suffers, the rest of the body needs to adjust, and pitch in, and continue to function as a whole.
During this six week process the feet have been just a bit smug about their role of being “rooted and grounded” and proclaiming to the rest of the body that they have to take on the whole weight of the body and convey it from place to place.
Then, in the dark of night, the foot, not looking where it was going, stubbed its toe – it has been strangely silent about the woes of the hands ever since. In fact, it was quite ashamed of the way it stumbled and limped for several days.
There is one final event that has taken place between the two hands. After the initial pain began to ease it was replaced with an ache, common to many broken bones. Sometimes the ache would wake me up at night because there was no position where the right arm did not hurt. One night the left hand began to caress and stroke the right hand and arm. Suddenly the ache began to lessen. As the right hand began to relax, under the stroking of the left hand, the ache diminished. Now the left hand will often stroke and massage the right hand – and the healing continues.
In I Corinthians 12 Paul tells us that "The Body is a unit, though it is made up of many parts...and so it is with Christ." He goes on to say "If one part suffers, every part suffers with it..."
We are the Body of Christ and we need to function as a whole, but when one part suffers, the rest of the body needs to adjust, and pitch in, and continue to function as a whole.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Installment Two - The Body - The Church
This is the second installment of my anthology about my injured hand and The Church.
There were many tasks that the left hand could not accomplish alone. It asked the feet to help out, but they protested that they needed to stay “rooted and grounded” and could not possibly come up and help. The right hand tried to help out, but again shooting pains told the whole body that it was not nearly ready to even begin to help. The left hand was frustrated, there were things the brain was asking it to do that I simply could not accomplish, so it asked for help elsewhere. Soon two other hands came to its assistance (Bill with a primary working left hand) and did those tasks as instructed or as he best saw fit. The new hands continued to help out whenever needed and are, in fact, continuing to step in from time to time even to this day. The new hands, always a friend to the left hand and the right hand, have become even better friends.
It is now 6 weeks later and the air cast has been stowed in a closet, hopefully to never be needed again. The right hand is beginning to reassume its appointed tasks, but it will be several months, the doctor tells me, before it will have close to full strength again. The left hand is happy to be able to continue some of its tasks, which it now is able to do better than the right hand. In fact, I suspect, the left hand will continue to be of great help to the whole body from now one.
In the beginning the left hand had a tendency to question the Creator and wonder why, at this age, it was suddenly asked to do so much. It had an unspoken complaint that the Creator could have at least warned it ahead of time so it could have begun to at least practice some of the tasks it was asked to do. It also blamed the right hand for allowing it to be so complacent and always having to be “in charge”.
Now, however, as the left hand looks back on the whole experience, it realizes that it really was never interested in helping all that much. Oh, there were always some tasks it helped with because there are some tasks that require two working hands, but it was, to be really honest, quite content to allow the right hand to do most of the work.
The right hand also looks back and realizes that it had a strong tendency to take over most tasks. There were a few times, granted not all that many, that the left hand attempted to do something, but it was too clumsy, too slow, too…and the right hand got impatient and said (irritably) “let me do that” and took over the task, relegating the left hand to a very secondary position. Now it realizes that it needed to go through the pain to learn that it does not always need to be first. It realizes that it is a good thing for the left hand to have become stronger. It has lost some of its arrogance and it is determined not to forget even when the healing is complete.
There were many tasks that the left hand could not accomplish alone. It asked the feet to help out, but they protested that they needed to stay “rooted and grounded” and could not possibly come up and help. The right hand tried to help out, but again shooting pains told the whole body that it was not nearly ready to even begin to help. The left hand was frustrated, there were things the brain was asking it to do that I simply could not accomplish, so it asked for help elsewhere. Soon two other hands came to its assistance (Bill with a primary working left hand) and did those tasks as instructed or as he best saw fit. The new hands continued to help out whenever needed and are, in fact, continuing to step in from time to time even to this day. The new hands, always a friend to the left hand and the right hand, have become even better friends.
It is now 6 weeks later and the air cast has been stowed in a closet, hopefully to never be needed again. The right hand is beginning to reassume its appointed tasks, but it will be several months, the doctor tells me, before it will have close to full strength again. The left hand is happy to be able to continue some of its tasks, which it now is able to do better than the right hand. In fact, I suspect, the left hand will continue to be of great help to the whole body from now one.
In the beginning the left hand had a tendency to question the Creator and wonder why, at this age, it was suddenly asked to do so much. It had an unspoken complaint that the Creator could have at least warned it ahead of time so it could have begun to at least practice some of the tasks it was asked to do. It also blamed the right hand for allowing it to be so complacent and always having to be “in charge”.
Now, however, as the left hand looks back on the whole experience, it realizes that it really was never interested in helping all that much. Oh, there were always some tasks it helped with because there are some tasks that require two working hands, but it was, to be really honest, quite content to allow the right hand to do most of the work.
The right hand also looks back and realizes that it had a strong tendency to take over most tasks. There were a few times, granted not all that many, that the left hand attempted to do something, but it was too clumsy, too slow, too…and the right hand got impatient and said (irritably) “let me do that” and took over the task, relegating the left hand to a very secondary position. Now it realizes that it needed to go through the pain to learn that it does not always need to be first. It realizes that it is a good thing for the left hand to have become stronger. It has lost some of its arrogance and it is determined not to forget even when the healing is complete.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
The Body - The Church
Six weeks ago I tumbled down my daughter’s basement steps and broke my arm. Based on the bruises on my hip and at the base of my spine and on both legs, and the lump on my head, I am quite fortunate to have only broken my arm – the radius, about two inches above my wrist - my right arm.
Because of the swelling and the fact that the bones were not displaced, the ER doc put me in an air cast and the next day the orthopedist said the arm could stay in the air cast until it was healed enough to fend on its own. This was wonderful because the air cast is held together with Velcro strips, easily loosened so I could shower without a bag over my hand and arm.
The arm hurt, but pain meds took care of most of the pain, but any, any effort to use that arm caused shooting pains. So, I had no choice - I began to use my left arm. Here is the allegory that has developed over these six weeks.
In the beginning the pain affected the whole body. The body said, “this is too much, just let me lie down awhile.” Then it began to say, “Just take a pill, we have work to do and we can’t let that broken right arm keep all the rest of us from getting things done.”
When the left hand was told it was now going to have to do most of the work, if not all of the work, it sighed and said it would do its best, but keep in mind that it had been underutilized for more than 60 years so it might take a few days to get up to speed.
It was only a few days later that the left hand complained that it was getting VERY tired of having to do all the work and couldn’t the right hand help out at least a little? The brain patiently explained that the right arm was still quite injured (it actually sent a jolt of pain through the body so all the members could get some idea of what was happening) and that it would most likely be quite awhile before the right hand could even help out.
The left hand sighed and said it needed a little rest but it would continue to do its best. In fact, in the next several days it needed many rests and the whole body took advantage and rested with it. But about a week later, when asked to do yet another task, the left hand suddenly realized that the tasks were easier and it was doing more and more, and most things better and better, each day. “I told you so.”, said the brain.
Another week after that, the left hand had a tendency to gloat just a bit over its increasing ability. The brain warned it not to get too cocky and the feet murmured in agreement.
In I Corinthians 12 Paul tells us that "The Body is a unit, though it is made up of many parts...and so it is with Christ." He goes on to say "If one part suffers, every part suffers with it..."
We are the Body of Christ and we need to function as a whole, but when one part suffers, the rest of the body needs to adjust, and pitch in, and continue to function as a whole.
Because of the swelling and the fact that the bones were not displaced, the ER doc put me in an air cast and the next day the orthopedist said the arm could stay in the air cast until it was healed enough to fend on its own. This was wonderful because the air cast is held together with Velcro strips, easily loosened so I could shower without a bag over my hand and arm.
The arm hurt, but pain meds took care of most of the pain, but any, any effort to use that arm caused shooting pains. So, I had no choice - I began to use my left arm. Here is the allegory that has developed over these six weeks.
In the beginning the pain affected the whole body. The body said, “this is too much, just let me lie down awhile.” Then it began to say, “Just take a pill, we have work to do and we can’t let that broken right arm keep all the rest of us from getting things done.”
When the left hand was told it was now going to have to do most of the work, if not all of the work, it sighed and said it would do its best, but keep in mind that it had been underutilized for more than 60 years so it might take a few days to get up to speed.
It was only a few days later that the left hand complained that it was getting VERY tired of having to do all the work and couldn’t the right hand help out at least a little? The brain patiently explained that the right arm was still quite injured (it actually sent a jolt of pain through the body so all the members could get some idea of what was happening) and that it would most likely be quite awhile before the right hand could even help out.
The left hand sighed and said it needed a little rest but it would continue to do its best. In fact, in the next several days it needed many rests and the whole body took advantage and rested with it. But about a week later, when asked to do yet another task, the left hand suddenly realized that the tasks were easier and it was doing more and more, and most things better and better, each day. “I told you so.”, said the brain.
Another week after that, the left hand had a tendency to gloat just a bit over its increasing ability. The brain warned it not to get too cocky and the feet murmured in agreement.
In I Corinthians 12 Paul tells us that "The Body is a unit, though it is made up of many parts...and so it is with Christ." He goes on to say "If one part suffers, every part suffers with it..."
We are the Body of Christ and we need to function as a whole, but when one part suffers, the rest of the body needs to adjust, and pitch in, and continue to function as a whole.
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