A little reminder

Our national news media has been gripped the past few days by the drama of the “runaway bride” from Duluth, GA. A young woman who apparently got a terrible case of cold feet before her wedding disappeared without a trace, prompting a nationwide search for her as a possible kidnapping victim. She turned up in New Mexico a few days ago having faked the whole thing (she even cut her hair to avoid detection). Relief over her reappearance soon gave way to anger over her deceit.

Being a male of the species, my sympathies were with the groom. He really got the shaft here. Not only was he terrified at the possibility of her loss, he was also treated as a suspect in her disappearance. The whole country got to watch his ordeal on cable news. When she was found, I was certain that he would call the thing off. This was a terrible thing to do to someone, and he would be fully justified in walking away.

It was a bit of a surprise then when I heard that not only would he forgive her, but that he also wanted to proceed with the wedding. A sweet, romantic story perhaps, but not very smart.

Then it hit me. Isn’t this the way God is with us?

The prophets of the Old Testament tell the story of God’s people as inconsistent and faithless. God is like that groom, and God’s people are the runaway bride. They run away not because they are scared but because they go with other lovers. God is jilted time and time again by the people, and God keeps taking them back! Either God is a real chump, or something much more profound is going on here.

The Bible word is hesed, which has no English equivalent. Many translations render it “loving-kindness” or “steadfast love.” It literally means a love that will not let go. You and I are being pursued by a love that will not let us go, even as we are inconsistent and faithless. Our relationship with God is never dependent on our ability to stay true. It depends on God’s faithfulness, which never wavers. Aren’t you glad to know that?

Our Georgia couple has some issues to work through, and here is hoping that they do. I really hope they live happily ever after. But even if they don’t, we can never apply the standards of human love to God. God’s love is way beyond anything we can comprehend. What a joy!


On a personal note, I am remembering today the events of May 4, 1970. On that terrible Monday thirty five years ago four college students at Kent State University were shot to death and nine others wounded by Ohio National Guardsmen during a campus anti-war protest. It is difficult now to remember the political and social conditions that gripped our country at the time. As a seventeen year old high school student I was profoundly affected by this tragedy. It became a factor in my call to ministry, as I wanted to be part of the healing of divisions in our society. Isn’t it amazing how certain events in our lives have great power for us, even as they get farther away in time?

Our Cuban friend

This week we have been hosting our colleague from Cuba, Ismael Madruga. Many of you met him on Sunday as he preached in our worship service and spoke to us during lunch. He was very touched by your welcome. He told me later that he could see joy in the faces of people as he stood in the pulpit. It made me quite proud.

We have a partnership with Ismael’s congregation in Guines, Cuba. It is part of a series of partnerships between congregations in the Presbytery of Chicago and the Presbytery of Havana. The primary purpose of the partnerships is to build relationships. Even as our governments are estranged, the people of the churches are building bridges of understanding, peace, and love. It is a noble and godly project.

Would you like to go to Cuba?

Our presbytery is sending another delegation to Cuba in November. Last October several of us from EPC took the trip and found it transformative. We found a warm welcome, gracious hospitality, great food, informative conversations, and interesting experiences. I plan to go again, and I hope you will consider making the journey, too. I won’t tell you it is an easy thing to do; I will simply say that you will not regret making the effort.

If you think you might have an interest, let me know. You can call or e-mail me, or speak with Ruth Andersen, our mission committee chairperson. We can give you all the particulars, as well as a testimonial to the effect of God at work in a society very different from ours.

The Presence of the Holy

“Spiritual truth, like music, is apprehended on a deeper level than it is ever comprehended.”

During last Sundays worship I found myself in an uncomfortable position. The choir was singing the anthem of the day, which they usually do before my sermon time. The anthems are always nice, but I have to confess that I am usually getting myself fortified to “go on” while they sing. I am paying attention, but I am also gathering my energy for something else. But as they sang last Sunday, suddenly the power of the music grabbed me by the throat. I got choked up, which isn’t good if you are about to stand to preach a sermon. Something in what they were singing got hold of me. I really don’t know why.

This happens to me with music. I am amazed how piece of music can suddenly make me stop what I am doing. Sometimes a piece of music can bring tears to my eyes. Why? This can happen with music I have never heard, music with which I have no prior emotional connection. Does anything like this happen to you?

I am usually a little embarrassed by this emotional response, as if it was some kind of weakness or oddity. In fact, it is contact with the great depth where God is most readily experienced. It is a holy occasion.

There is a deep richness within all of us, but often it is unknown. It surprises us. It catches us off guard in a moment of beauty, or of suffering, or of human connection. We may be quite moved without knowing why. Artists are familiar with this part of themselves, but many of the rest of us are blind sided by it.

The presence of God is always apprehended on a much deeper level than it can ever be comprehended. In other words, you experience it long before you can even talk about it, much less understand it. Part of our spiritual life is to explore and to become comfortable with this spiritual depth. If you are stuck in the rational and predictable, you limit what you can know about God. You also force God to surprise you, which isn’t always pleasant.

To learn to live in this depth is a key to full and abundant life. Living in this depth means there will always be something new, something refreshing. Gratitude is the currency at this level of living. Wonder is its language. People who know this depth are vital and energetic, regardless of age or circumstance. God has taken hold of them, and their lives are not their own.

Does this sound strange? Pay attention the next time a lump forms in your throat at the sound of some music, or at the laughter of someone close, or the beauty of a place that is special to you. You may be in for revelation that could change your life.

Grace is always working

“Life is an experience of falling down and getting up—falling down and getting up—falling down and getting up. Therefore, be not discouraged because you have not arrived. The task of putting off the old nature and putting on the new is God’s work, and God is patient and merciful beyond our wildest dreams.”

These words came from a sermon written years ago by John R. Claypool, a distinguished preacher who had much impact on me in my formative days. It is a reminder that transformation is the key spiritual goal, and it is the work of a lifetime.

“Putting off the old nature” is a biblical way of referring to the changes we make as we grow in Christ. The image reminds me of changing clothes. You have to take something off to put on a new garment. The new nature in Christ is a new way of living. You don’t have to be what you have always been. You don’t have to act or react as you always have. You don’t have to be stuck in the ruts you have always endured. In Christ, life can be new. But it has to be put on consciously, not merely as a wishful thought.

This process is not about achieving goals, a common theme in self help books. It is about experiencing grace. The only way to know grace is to get it firsthand. I never knew much about grace in my own experience until I went through the pain of a divorce. It was a tragic failure in my life, a failure so terrible it disqualified me from having anything else to say about God. Or so I thought. In the process of getting through that time, God picked me up again and again. I discovered in my own experience that grace is always greater than any of our failures.

God is more patient and merciful than we can possibly imagine. In whatever circumstances you find yourself today, remember that transformation is taking place in your life. It is God’s work, and it is filled with grace. Trust God with all of your life, and watch the hands of mercy at work.

Presbyterians and the Pope

Pope John Paul’s death has had a world wide impact. He was a truly great man. His spirituality gave him a special energy to connect with people all over the world, and to build bridges that had not previously been there. He came to office in the year I graduated from seminary, so I have felt a certain companionship with him through my career. I have recently enjoyed reading stories of his trip to Chicago in 1979.

As much as I respected John Paul, I have always been aware that the very existence of the pope is a fundamental point of difference between Catholics and Presbyterians (as well as other Protestants). The issue is authority and how it functions in the church.

Because Presbyterians have always mistrusted human nature, we reject the investing of authority in a bishop (the pope is technically the Bishop of Rome). Our system instead places authority in the hands of a group of people (a session, presbytery, or General Assembly) duly elected and accountable to Scripture, church tradition, and the people whom they represent. Hardly a perfect system, but one that I believe is most consistent with the New Testament pattern of leadership.

You seldom, if ever, see a Presbyterian clergyperson as a “star” in the media. One reason is that we are a pretty boring bunch. But it is also true that we are trained to see ourselves as collegial leaders, not as symbols of authority. We believe that lay people are called to exercise leadership just as we are. Elders and deacons are on the same level with pastors. The difference is one of function. It is one of the best parts of being Presbyterian. I would not want it any other way.

Regardless of our differences, now is a good time to affirm our Roman Catholic neighbors and friends as our brothers and sisters in Christ. It is a time of uncertainty for them, and they deserve our prayers as they undertake the arduous process of selecting a new pope. We may disagree on the concept of authority, but we can pray for the new pope as a servant of Christ. May he continue to build bridges, and utilize the enormous resources they have to work for peace in our world.

After Easter

I have refrained from commenting publicly on the Terri Schaivo case. It is a personal and private family matter. I have been close to a number of situations like this in my years of ministry, and from experience can say that we (the public and the media) have no business being involved in it. On any given day there are thousands of persons and families all over the country in a similar circumstance. Anyone who has been in such a spot knows how dreadful it is even without all the spectators.

The most obvious lesson being drawn from the case is the importance of having end of life directives. A “living will” is part of a set of documents we should all have. Some years ago my parents drew up a living will and a document granting me durable powers of attorney for their medical care and other business. I am so thankful to God for this. When catastrophic health problems struck my parents shortly thereafter, the ability to make and execute decisions on their behalf made all the difference in their treatment and care. If you have not made these arrangements, do so as quickly as you can. You may spare your loved ones much agony by this simple action.

The other lesson I am taking from this case is about Christian belief. We are people of the resurrection. The resurrection is at the center of our message. It is the primary hope of our faith. It pains me to say that many people seem to have forgotten this bit of truth.

It is ironic that over the Easter weekend I failed to hear a single reference to resurrection among the many “reverends” who have inserted themselves as spokesmen for the family of Terri Schaivo. Not once have I heard anyone from the “culture of life” group say anything about the resurrection and the hope of heaven. We believe in the right to life for Terri. Does anybody believe in resurrection for Terri?

I worry that the phrase “culture of life” may actually mean “fear of death.” Christians are not to be afraid of death. While it is good to “err on the side of life,” for a Christian death is not the worst thing that can happen. The hallmark of Christian faith is the belief in eternal life through the resurrection of Jesus Christ. In her resurrection body Terri Schaivo will be free from the limits of the last fifteen years. This should be a source of comfort and joy to all who believe.

This is a complicated and tragic case. The pain is excruciating on all sides. People of good will may disagree over it. Regardless of our positions on such issues as end of life care, we must conduct ourselves as people of faith, hope, and love. Not only are we to believe passionately; we are also called to bear witness to Jesus Christ and his resurrection. That is what Easter is all about.

Holy Week

It is Holy Week in the Christian calendar. We are in the midst of remembering the betrayal, crucifixion, death, and resurrection of Jesus. It is the central series events in our faith story. Remembering and re-telling is essential to our spiritual life.

In my experience as a pastor I have noted the tendency on the part of Protestant Christians (read “Presbyterians”) to jump quickly to the story of Easter morning. Of course, this is understandable. We like the happy ending, and don’t want to spend too much time on the pain. Too morbid. We are positive, optimistic people, and many of us see no need to dwell on the negative side of the story. Since it all comes out right in the end, why not just go there?

For many years this is how I operated. I have no memory of anything other than Easter morning in my early religious training. No Maundy Thursday or Good Friday. My earliest impressions of Easter are of chocolate eggs, bright new clothes, and baked ham for lunch.

Only later did the more grim aspects of the story come into my experience. Part of it was simply growing older and experiencing some of the strains of living. But it was also a more intentional observance of the time. To go through the process of seeing Jesus betrayed by his disciples, jeered and rejected by the mob, judged by the system, and killed cruelly made the proclamation of Easter Sunday morning all the more thrilling. I have since come to believe that our Roman Catholic, Orthodox, and other more liturgically minded friends have an advantage over us on this one. They go through the process by ritual every year, and know the story better than we do.

My strong recommendation is that you allow yourself to fully experience the events of Holy Week. Be a part of our Maundy Thursday service if at all possible. Read and pray your way through the crucifixion texts on Friday, and allow them to affect you. Let Saturday be a day of reflection. Don’t jump ahead. If you approach this weekend carefully, the arrival of Sunday morning will be a joyous time for you. The message of Christian faith will be again planted in your heart, where it belongs.

Violence

We are living in a violent world. Much of that violence is random. In the last week or so we have experienced a horrifying string of high profile murders in Chicago, Atlanta, and Milwaukee. None of these circumstances qualify as “normal” for violent death. A nice residential neighborhood, a courthouse, and a church service are places you should be secure. Not anymore. The violence of our culture can touch you anywhere.

How do we as followers of Jesus Christ respond to this? One important way is to keep telling our story.

We are entering the last phase of Lent, moving into Holy Week. This is a solemn time where we revisit horrific violence. The violence inflicted on Jesus of Nazareth, an innocent man, encompasses all violent actions across the history of our world. Betrayal, injustice, torture, abandonment—elements in this story are found throughout human civilization. Christianity is acquainted with the pain of violence.

But our story also includes resurrection, the overcoming of violence through the redemptive love of God. That is what makes it a different story from any other. Because of this act of God, fear can be replaced with faith, hope, and love.

Without faith, hope, and love our world dies. It dies from vengeance, hatred, and insecurity. These are natural consequences of violence.

In the wake of terrible violence, let us not succumb to fear. Look to the cross of Jesus Christ. Let it be the beacon that guides you as you experience the darkness. And most of all, keep telling the story to yourself and others. The story is what saves us. It is the gift the world is dying for us to share.

During Lent I am talking to you about things you can give up to enhance your spiritual journey. Today I want to say something about your energy.

As I mentioned this last week several people responded with the question, “What energy?” Obviously we are a tired bunch! Being asked to give up some energy may seem like an impossible request. Actually, what I am advocating is redirecting some of your energy toward spiritual life, which can be very hard work.

Human beings have several dimensions: physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual. Of these, only the physical grows automatically. We progress physically without effort, or even awareness. The growth and aging of our bodies is out of our control. It proceeds whether we like it or not.

To a lesser extent, this is true of the emotional and mental as well. Much of their development takes place without our awareness. At a certain point, however, we begin to make choices that affect our emotional and mental life. We begin to accept responsibility. We go to school, or get married, or delve into a challenging career. Unfortunately, many people along the way make the choice to stop this growing. It is not unusual to see mature adults who have long ago given up on the challenges of emotional and mental maturity.

The spiritual side is different. Though every person has a spiritual side, its development is not automatic. It doesn’t proceed without our cooperation. At every point, we can stand in its way. We can fail to do the things necessary to cultivate the spiritual. For many people this just isn’t important. For some there is the mistaken assumption that they already know what is true. For some there is the impediment of bad life experiences. Regardless of the reasons, significant numbers of people have an underdeveloped spiritual side. The consequences of this can be disastrous, personally and for society at large.

When our world is influenced for good, it is by people who have experienced spiritual awakening. Do not underestimate the power of one person who has come alive to the presence of God.

There are many ways we cultivate the growth of the soul. Prayer, worship, study, meditation, reading, celebration, fasting, service to others, reflections, confession, relationships of accountability with others—these are some of the means by which God brings us into greater awareness of the eternal. But none of them are passive. None of them happen by themselves. They require our energy. It is the work of a lifetime.

Do you believe this? Are you willing to give what it takes to mature in matters of the soul?

This question matters when we decide on the things that will get our attention, our time, our financial investment, and yes, our energy. As we come closer to Easter, it would be good to look at our habits and patterns of living. Are you giving enough of your energy to the spiritual? If you aren’t, you can always start. God will meet you wherever you are.

But start now. You can wait until it is too late.

Our Stuff

In my series of notes on what you can give up for Lent, let me turn to our “stuff.”

My father was a “pack rat.” He kept everything. His desk was filled with old coins, notes, pens, rubber bands, letters, old photos, newspaper articles, address books, diaries—you name it. The garage was the same way, only larger and more extensive. His closet would have been filled with old clothes and shoes had my mother not put her foot down. At his death it fell to me to go through all this. While it was a mostly pleasant task, I marveled at his inability to throw anything away.

I would not call myself a pack rat, but I do have a tendency to accumulate things. It feels harmless, but sometimes I wonder. What does it mean that so much can pile up in my life, even when I don’t mean for it to happen? I think this is true for many of us.

Material goods are a spiritual issue for Christians in the United States. We consume a considerable portion of the world’s resources, and therefore bear some responsibility for how we use our things. During Lent it would be helpful to think about that.

A powerful spiritual exercise would be to do an inventory of your closets, pantry, garage, and other storage spaces. What do you have and how do you use it? How much do you have that you seldom or never use? Are there things you buy that you don’t really need? Do you have things that you should throw away? Do you have things that you should give to someone else?

Honesty on these questions can be tough. As I consider giving away something, there is always a voice in my head that says, “You may need that someday!” Listening to that voice means more stuff will pile up. “Someday” usually never comes.

Why not give up some stuff during Lent? Paring down your accumulation will simplify things, and make you feel better (especially if you can help others by what you give away). But the most important impact will be that you have, to a degree, loosened the grip that our stuff can have on us. Remember: anything that controls your life, even a little, can be an idol. God works in space that we create for him.



Next week I will ask you to consider giving up some of your energy…

Fasting

Last week I told you that I would be writing about something you could “give up” during Lent. While I don’t like to conceptualize Lent in that way, so many people associate Lent with some sort of sacrifice that I am going to play along in order to make some important points.

This week I am asking you to give up your lunch. Not every day, but occasionally. The impact on your life could be monumental.

One of the classical disciplines of spiritual life is fasting, the voluntary foregoing of food for a designated period of time. The purpose of fasting is simple: it is the denying of an appetite to enable a spiritual search or commitment. It has nothing to do with weight loss. It is an intentional, physical focusing on God. It is an awesome experience, but it can be a struggle.

The difficulty of fasting is not in the hunger. The challenge of a fast is in the power of the appetite. Many of us simply never say no to our appetite. A craving is usually met by immediate gratification; hence the popularity of so much “junk food.” Because we so consistently gratify ourselves, we can be unaware of how powerful our appetites are and the control they exert over us. The decision to deny yourself, even for a few hours, can be a terrible spiritual battle.

That spiritual battle is the point of fasting. Your appetite will scream at you, reminding you again and again that you haven’t fed it. Who is in charge here? Even a brief fast brings you face to face with “the powers that be.” The stage is then set for God to be at work.

God reveals things to us during a fast that don’t come at times of fullness and satisfaction. That is why fasting is a part of virtually every religious tradition. If you are really interested in knowing God’s will, seeking God’s direction, or just reorienting yourself toward God, a fast is a wonderful way to begin.

Jesus fasted in the wilderness for forty days, but most fasts are far more modest. Usually a meal or two is all it takes. Of course, there are those who for medical reasons should not fast. But most of us are capable of incorporating this discipline into our regular spiritual practice. A little goes a very long way.

During Lent 2005 why not designate a day for fasting and prayer? I do, and I actually look forward to it. During such a day your activities continue normally (Jesus told us to “anoint the head and wash the face” when fasting so that no one can tell what is going on). But on the inside you are being reminded of who you are and to whom you belong. In a hectic world, that regular reminder is vital for spiritual health.



Next week I will ask you to take a look at all of your “stuff”…

Rest On Sunday?

Since most people associate Lent with something they have to give up, I have decided to play along. For the next several weeks I am going to write about things you should give up for Lent.

In this first week, I want to suggest something that may surprise you. I want you to give up your Sundays.

I heard this interesting request from a fellow pastor last year. He was challenging a congregation with the most basic of Christian disciplines: the weekly observance of the Lord’s Day. For those looking for something daunting, this must have been a real disappointment. But on further examination, it is a tough request. Sunday observance is a fundamental weakness among us.

When I say this, I am not talking about worship attendance. While there are many of us who could stand to be more attentive to worship on Sunday, there is more to Lord’s Day observance than going to church. Sunday as the Lord’s Day is the Christian version of the Sabbath, the day of rest mandated by God. The day of rest was not a thoughtful suggestion. It was a command. Orthodox Jews take it very seriously. So should we.

How many of us can honestly say that Sunday is a day that is set aside? The suggestion is very quaint in the contemporary world. You are likely to be considered odd if you told someone that there are certain things you don’t do on Sunday because it is a day of rest.

In biblical terms, rest means rest. No work. Nothing short of an emergency that would make someone else work, either. Nothing frantic, or hurried. Only worship, renewal, rest, recreation. Sounds lovely, doesn’t it?

(This understanding of Lord’s Day makes me a Sabbath breaker, as I do work on Sunday. There are many people for whom Sunday work is unavoidable. But the responsibility is still there to find a time for Sabbath rest. I try to make up for it with some dedicated time on Friday).

Making Sunday a day of Sabbath rest is a challenge. Our culture works more than ever before. Laptop computers, cell phones, and PDA’s help us carry work everywhere and well past normal working hours. Even if you leave your job behind, our Sundays can be crammed with all kinds of activities that don’t constitute rest. If you are going to get some refreshment for your spirit, you have to take it. It certainly isn’t going to be handed to you.

My challenge to you is to make Lent 2005 a time of Sabbath rest. Why not make every Sunday between now and Easter a day set aside only for worship and refreshment? You may be shocked at how hard it will be to do that. More importantly, you could be shocked at how much of a difference it makes in your life. It could actually become a habit!

Next week I will talk to you about giving up your lunch…

Ash Wednesday

Today is Ash Wednesday.

Christians around the world have been observing this day for centuries. While interpretations of its significance may vary, it remains a near universal observation in the church. It is an important occasion, if properly understood.

For traditional Presbyterians, Ash Wednesday may still be a bit strange. It is a “Catholic” ritual, and therefore doesn’t have a place in a Protestant mindset. Actually, the symbolism of ashes is an ancient way of acknowledging repentance and reform. It is a deeply meaningful way of announcing yourself as a “penitent,” a person determined to follow a discipline as part of faith. I am always humbled when I take part in the ritual of ashes. It reminds me that I have a long way to go as a follower of Jesus Christ.

Ash Wednesday is the beginning of Lent, the symbolic forty days leading to Easter. The Scriptural context is Jesus’ forty days in the wilderness where he was tempted by Satan. The wilderness experience was a test for Jesus, both of his character and of his sense of who he was. If we understand it like this, we can turn the season of Lent into a similar time of refinement for ourselves. It is well worth doing.

During Lent my weekly communication with you will center on some aspect of personal renewal. Lent is not about giving up something, or about punishing yourself. It is about becoming more like Christ himself. There are many different ways to pursue Christ-likeness. I welcome your input as you seek your own Lenten discipline.