Lent Reflection #8 - Striking a Balance

One of the misconceptions common to childhood is the idea that adults (or at least the ones who are in some position of authority) know what they're doing at all times. I shared in this delusion when I was younger and didn't really understand how wrong I was until I had children of my own, at which point I totally understood how many things I did not know and how many answers I did not have. 

I have been reminded of this in a few church meetings in which an important decision needs to be made or a direction needs to be discerned. It can be slightly disconcerting for a young pastor early in their ministry when a question comes up in a church council meeting and everyone's eyes turn towards you. When that happened to me, I wanted to deflect the responsibility. I was waiting for somebody else  to step up and take the lead. I assumed that there was a grownup in the room that would have the answer and I was pretty sure that it wasn't me. 

A while back, I was in a meeting with some of our leaders at HUMC  and we were discussing the church's future.  Someone asked the question: "How do we figure out when it's time to stop reflecting and start acting?" There were a number of wise people in this group - people with decades of experience in leadership in their careers and in the life of the church. And we didn't have a clear answer on that evening. 

I was thinking about all of this reading Luke 2 this morning. Two times, we are told that Mary pondered what was happening in her heart. Given the momentous events that she was a part of, I'm thinking that silent reflection was a necessity. But Mary was not passive bystander. Mary, I think, struck a much-needed balance. When God called her to act, she did so, acting on faith in God. Mary was not a silent bystander in the events of Jesus' birth - all you need to do is read Luke 1:46-55 to see how engaged she was with what was going on.

But her active participation was balanced with deep reflection. Mary acted and she pondered what was happening in her heart. That's a balance that a lot of folks struggle to find. Sometimes, we reflect and ponder and discern ourselves into total inaction. We look up from gazing at our bellybuttons long enough find the moment or the opportunity long since passed. And then we begin to ponder why we missed that opportunity. Or we don't ponder anything or engage in any reflection and act on impulse and instinct. And when we slow down, we might begin to notice the wreckage in our wake.

If we tried to be more like Mary in this regard, I'm thinking that our decision making would be a lot healthier. Mary shows us that pondering and acting are not mutually exclusive. We've got to ponder in our hearts to be aware of where the Spirit of God is leading us and we've also got to be ready to move when and where the Spirit moves. Even if we've got questions, even if there's fear and anxiety, even if we're not able to guarantee complete success - our pondering and our moving are both acts of faith in God and in what God is doing in our lives, in the church, and in the world. 

Part of what it means to be a mature adult and a mature Christian is knowing that you don't have all the answers and being willing to take risks - not based on foolish bravado or recklessness, but on a deep trust in the God that holds our lives in His hands.  Part of being a mature adult is being willing to be patient, like Mary was patient, pondering what is happening in our hearts, and then being ready to move when God says move. 

When will that be? I like what God tells Habakkuk: "...there is still a vision for the appointed time...if it seems to tarry, wait for it..."

May God help us wait patiently and act faithfully...

Lent Reflection #7

I was in high school when I first started trying to read the Bible seriously.  Even at that young age, I was fascinated by Paul's letters.  In my early attempts to understand Paul, I did not see his letters as cohesive arguments, but basically as a collection of inspirational verses.  Some of them are still stuck in my memory and most of those verses are the memorable ones: "I'm not ashamed of the Gospel…"; "There is no Jew nor Greek…"; "Do not be conformed to this world…"; "I can do all things through Christ…"  I had several of these on posters or t-shirts.  Some of these verses strengthened my faith in difficult times.  There's a reason that they have staying power in my life and the lives of many others.

There's one verse that has stuck with since my younger days that is not one of those famous, t-shirt worthy verses.  Colossians 4:18 says, "I, Paul, am writing this with my own hand.  Remember my chains.  Grace be with you.

Remember my chains.

That little statement has long left a mark on my spirit.  One reason is that it reminds me of the cost that Paul was willing to pay for the sake of his faith in Christ.  He was not alone in his willingness, of course.  But in several places he spoke eloquently and powerfully about his willing to pay the price.  This expression at the end of Colossians is blunt and to the point.  And powerful.

Like the Colossians, we need reminders, too.  While the chains that many of us struggle with are not made of metal literally shackling our hands and feet, they are just as strong and just as constricting.  More people than we know (or want to know) deal with the chains of addiction or mental illness or grief or regret or shame.  There are people who sit in church pews every Sunday morning who might be free to move physically, but they don't feel free to love or to grow or to trust.  Some are chained to their past, some are chained to a struggle in the present, and some are chained by hopelessness about the future.

How do we as Christians respond?  Paul's instruction to the Colossians about remembering his chains was an invitation to prayer.  Paul was asking the Colossians to remember his imprisonment not to inspire pity nor was he trying to impress them with the depth of his commitment.  He was asking for their prayers.  And not simply general, vague prayers, but deep prayer for strength and perseverance. 

Paul is extending that invitation to us as well.  Not for his chains, of course.  Paul has long since entered the Church Triumphant and the heavenly freedom that is our eternal hope.  Paul is inviting us to remember each other's chains, whatever they may be.  Paul is inviting us to pray for one another and to do so sincerely and specifically, praying for peace and wholeness and healing.  

Lent Reflection #6

I read today about Korah's Rebellion in Numbers 16, when a group of Levites rose up against Moses.  Verse 3 jumped out at me: "You have gone too far!  All the congregation are holy, everyone of them, and the Lord is among them.  So why then do you exalt yourselves above the assembly of the Lord?"  If you read that verse out of context, there would be a large number of people who would get behind that sentiment when it comes to pastors, local church leaders, or denominational leaders.  There's definitely a wave of Korah-esque anti-elitism going on in our country right now.  It's not necessarily anti-authority, but definitely anti-establishment - in both secular and religious life.

Here are some random thoughts that have been bouncing around in my head since reading that passage this morning:

• The current attitude in much of our culture can be boiled down to one confrontational question and one confrontational statement: "Who do  you think you are?" and "You can't tell me what to do!"  In many cases, that question and that statement reflect a deep-seated immaturity, an unwillingness to recognize appropriate authority or legitimate systems of accountability. 
• 50 years ago, more people had more respect for credentialed and educated professionals.  Some of that still remains - I'm occasionally taken aback by the change in many people's attitude towards me once they find out that I'm a minister.  But, by and large, diplomas and credentials don't carry the same weight that they once did.  I'm not entirely sure that this is a bad thing.  But it's not very helpful when people assume that spending a few hours on the internet, or reading one or two books, or watching a few YouTube videos puts them on the same level as people who have devoted their lives to certain fields of study or certain vocations. 
• Knee-jerk anti-authoritarian attitudes like Korah and his posse displayed is ultimately corrosive and destructive.   If I want to be like Jesus, I can't be like Korah.  The flip side of the coin is that blind, unthinking obedience is also corrosive and destructive.  The example of John Wesley is a good one - he was highly educated, extremely intelligent, and saw clearly that all of that stuff took a definite back seat to his faith in Jesus.

It is vitally important for leaders in the church (ordained or not) to recognize the source of any authority or power that they might have - it all comes from God.  All of it.  It is a gift of grace and as such is to be handled and used with grace.  As Jesus tells James and John, the work of the disciple of Jesus is to become a servant to all.  This is the paradox of leading like Jesus.  As a quote I once read puts it: "if anything is beneath you, leadership is beyond you." 

I think of that quote whenever I'm walking through the parking lot at the church and I see a piece of trash.  There's a split second where I selfishly think, "that's not my responsibility".  Then I remember that quote and I'm reminded that there is no work in God's Kingdom that is beneath me. 

And I'm sorry that today's post is kinda all over the place...some days it's pretty easy and other days, not so much.  

Lent Reflection #5

So, I'm a little behind.  There are good reasons for this, but instead of spending time on explanations, I'd rather just push ahead and resume my (almost) daily blogging during Lent. 

He's probably not focused on getting
fatally stabbed by Darth Maul

My son is currently in the last stages (I hope) of recovering from the flu.  He's been feeling pretty worn down over the last few days and this has led to a LOT of screen time.  And since he is my son, a good chunk of this has been Star Wars.  Daniel was in the mood for the prequels, so I happily obliged.  While reading Numbers 12-14 today, a line from The Phantom Menace spoken by Qui Gon Jinn came to my mind.  He tells young Anakin: "always remember, your focus determines your reality."  This is one of those lines that Star Wars fans like to quote and other SW fans will nod their head solemnly as if it is unquestionable wisdom from on high. 

I was thinking about that quote while reading about the spies in Numbers 13 - it almost fits!  And it almost makes sense in our lives, too.  That is until we run headfirst into things that no amount of focus on our part will change.  Given a few seconds of thought, it becomes clear that our focus does not determine our reality.  It's more accurate to say that our focus determines our response to reality.  How does this connect to the spies in Numbers 13?  Their focus shaped what they saw in the land that they were sent to observe.  And it was fear that shaped their focus.  The reality was different than what they perceived - they thought they saw giants, Nephilim they were called.  They saw themselves as being as insignificant as grasshoppers in comparison.  There are some good lessons here about change and fear and perception. 

For me personally right now, this is a helpful thing to ponder.  My sweet, better-than-I-deserve daughter will be having heart surgery next month (this will be her 2nd heart surgery to remove excess tissue under her aortic valve) and in my fearful moments, I find myself acting a little bit like the spies.  I can easily make room in my head for fears and worst-case scenarios.  This is a normal reaction when facing difficult stuff and, to a certain extent,  it's a good thing to be aware of risks and dangers.  But, if like the spies, I allow my fears to determine my focus, then my focus will determine how I respond to reality.  I'm not going to let my fear determine my focus, because frankly, that would suck.

My next reading this afternoon was Colossians 2.  It was good to read that chapter after reading about the spies.  Here's what I found helpful today: "As you therefore have received Jesus Christ the Lord, continue to live your lives in him, rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving.  See to it that no one takes you captive through philosophy and empty deceit…"

When we allow fear to determine our focus, we're easy marks for empty deceit - we'll believe some pretty crazy stuff.  When we are fearful, we become desperate for someone to fix it, make it better, give us a way out or an excuse to give up.  I can honestly say that I'm not fearful about my daughter's upcoming surgery - I ain't happy about it, but I'm not afraid.  I trust her surgeon and the medical staff at the hospital and I also trust in God.  Because I am rooted and being built up in Christ, I want my faith, not my fear, to determine my focus.  

Lent Reflection #4

Last week, I started this series of Lenten reflections by saying that I'd be blogging 6 days a week, but I'm not going to do that.  It's going to be 5 days (Mon.-Fri.) which lines up with my Bible reading plan, which is on a 5 day/week schedule.  

If you're a Christian, it's pretty obvious that a lot depends on what you believe about Jesus.  I have found, paradoxically it seems to me, that the older I get and the more I study Scripture, the less certain I am about exactly who Jesus is.  I've come to understand that so much of what I've believed or thought I knew about Jesus in my life was actually shaped (warped?) by a bunch of stuff that actually had nothing to do with Jesus: culture, politics, denomination, my own selfish point of view, etc.  Don't get me wrong, I still very much believe in and depend on the grace that God gives us through Jesus Christ - his life, death, and resurrection.  I believe more than ever that Jesus is Lord over all creation.

Not Jesus.

What's changed is that I don't believe that Jesus simply validates my own little narrow worldview.  All the stuff that we can get so wrapped up in and upset about (politics, theological squabbles, worship style, petty church stuff) seems so small and unimportant when I read Colossians 1.  That chapter convicts me that I'm often tempted to make Jesus a personal mascot or one of those little religious figurines I can keep in my windowsill or on my desk.  My limited worldview and woefully incomplete understanding tempts me to make Jesus into a Precious Moments figurine.  Well, in Colossians, Paul ain't having it…

Jesus is a big deal in Colossians.  Here's a sample of who Jesus is/what Jesus does in Colossians 1:

• He's the image of the invisible God - want to know what God is like, look at Jesus
• In him and for him, all things were created (see John 1 for more details…)
• He is before all things and "in him all things hold together" (I love that phrase - makes me think of Paul in Acts 17:28 - "In him we live and move and have our being." It also makes me think of Yoda's explanation of the Force, but that's a whole other blog post)
• He is the head of the church
• He is the firstborn from the dead (the first to be resurrected from the dead)
• He has first place in everything
• "In him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell"
• God has reconciled all things to himself through Jesus
• Through "the blood of his cross", God has made peace

That's a lot. It's pretty obvious that when we try to enlist Jesus to endorse our political or theological convictions, we make him way too small.  Small enough for us manage and manipulate.  Or maybe we make up an idol, slap the name "Jesus" on it and worship the stuff we like about ourselves.  

Is that too harsh?  

Also not Jesus.

Too bad.  It's Lent. 

We should all repent for trying to make Jesus our personal mascot. 

Lent Reflection - Day 3

"Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it." - Hebrews 13:2

"Do not be afraid."  This is the most common command from God in Scripture. Not the greatest or most important - love is obviously the greatest and I think (if we must rank them) that "repent and believe in the good news" might be more important.  So, if the command against fear is not the greatest and if it's (arguably) not the most important, why does it occur so often?

The easy answer, of course, is that we are easily frightened.  And most of us are pretty good at hiding it - we like to cover up our fear with self-confidence, stubborn certainty, a lot of possessions, etc.  Fear is not always a bad thing and it can keep us from getting ourselves in trouble.  The problem is that we have a tendency to be ruled by our fear.  We let it dictate how we live and who we love, who we serve and to whom we show hospitality. 

While there are certainly times to exercise caution and hospitality does not mean letting people take advantage of us or putting ourselves or our loved ones in harm's way, there are times when we are reluctant to show hospitality to strangers because our fear of hypothetical 'what if' scenarios carries more weight with us than Jesus' command to love our neighbors and God's repeated command that we not be afraid.  These 'what if' scenarios are really powerful, but pay attention to the fact that Jesus doesn't leave us any wiggle room in his command for us to love our neighbor.  There's no "unless" in the greatest commandment. 

"Love your neighbor, unless they have been mean to you…"

"Love your neighbor, unless they are a different religion…"

"Love your neighbor, unless they have a lifestyle that you disagree with…"

"Love your neighbor, unless there's some hypothetical scenario that makes you afraid of doing so…"

It's difficult and sometimes it's inconvenient for me to do so (even anxiety-producing), but the command is pretty clear.  I'm thinking that I've got a ways to go and a lot of repenting to do during this season of Lent…

Lent Reflection - Day 2

I probably didn't listen to them because of G-funk's hair

A few years ago, Toni Ruth and I were talking about music - specifically about her accusations that I'm a musical "elitist" (a well-founded and true accusation, by the way).  She was surprised to learn that there was a substantial gap in my musical knowledge - I have not really listened to Simon and Garfunkel.  Besides what I've heard on the radio and in public places, I've never really paid them any attention.  And as an amateur music nerd (especially when it comes to classic rock and all its tributaries, including folk), I should be familiar with Simon and Garfunkel. 

I'm kind of feeling the same way about the book of Hebrews.  I'm currently on chapter 12 and I've been really surprised by three things in Hebrews:

1. How familiar so much of it is, even though I've not really studied it in any kind of in-depth way.  I've heard or said so many of the verses in the book, but I've learned that I've typically heard/said them out of context.
2. I've been surprised by how important Hebrews is to a Protestant understanding of salvation.  You only really need Romans and Galatians to go along with it and it's not too difficult to find all you need for a sufficient Protestant account of how God saves people through Jesus' death and resurrection.
3. I'm actually pretty shocked that Paul was long considered to be the writer of Hebrews.  Totally different style and points of emphasis. 

So, that's all pretty academic stuff and given what I said yesterday, I need to pay some attention to the 'devotional' aspects of all this.  It ain't that hard to do with Hebrews 12.  For example, here's verses 1-2:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.

If you're a disciple of Jesus, you're in it for the long haul.  The life of faith isn't a sprint, but a long distance journey.  This is what I find so compelling and encouraging about how United Methodists understand sanctification - the lifelong process of God's grace at work through the presence of the Holy Spirit in us, perfecting us in love.  The whole time, we are looking to Jesus, who has run this race to completion and showed us the path that we are to follow.

The writer of Hebrews also reassures us that we are not running alone.  We are surrounded by a "cloud of witnesses" who have run or are running the race alongside of us.  That's why in 10:24-25, the writer says,

And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day approaching.

I'll make a deal with you - if you'll pray for me today as I'm seeking to run the race and keep my eyes on Jesus, I'll pray for you as you do the same…