Looking Forward

A friend posted this on their Facebook page today:

“Tomorrow is the first blank page of a 365 page book.  Write a good one.” 

Signed 2014

I like that.  Tomorrow starts a new calendar year and for many of us we think of it as a fresh start; a chance to start over.  For many it was a tough year and I’ve heard many people (me included) say that they are looking forward to a new year.  It’s as if rolling the date is going to make a difference somehow.  Like writing 2014 instead of 2013 is somehow going to align the stars differently or change bad luck into good.

But this post reminds me that how we look at life, how we choose to make decisions and spend our time and focus our energies determines the quality of our life.  It’s not just a new year but each morning we awake to a new day; a gift from God.  How we choose to spend each day is up to us.  Make it a good one.

So along these lines, there are a few things I’m going to try to do differently.  These aren’t your typical New Year’s resolutions.  I stopped making resolutions a long time ago because I never kept them.  They just tended to make me feel bad; make me feel guilty; ashamed of my lack of self-discipline.  Rather, these are changes in attitudes and behaviors that I am going to try to emulate during the year.  These are things that Jesus did so well that people were drawn to him because they knew he loved them.  I want to be more like Jesus.  I know that I will sometimes fail because these things are really hard for me.  I am truly imperfect.  But , this is part of my journey and I think spiritual growth is all about trying and sometimes failing and sometimes succeeding. 

So here’s my list of things I’m going to try to do differently in 2014:  

1.  Instead of worrying, I’m really going to try to trust God and believe what I say I believe – that God is in control.

2. Instead of being judgmental, I’m going to try to genuinely love people because they are created in the image of God – everyone.

3.Instead of thinking that I’m in control and trying to figure things out on my own, I’m going to pray about everything - first.  I repeat:  instead of thinking that I’m in control and trying to figure things out on my own, I’m going to pray about everything – first.  Repeat… (well, you get it)

4. I’m going to observe the Sabbath.  I’m going to make self-care and rest a priority.  Jesus did.  God commanded it. 

5. I’m going to focus on relationships rather than work/stuff.  Jesus spent more time with people than he did anything else.  Plus, relationships feed me.

I think if I’m able to do these things better – even 50% of the time in 2014 then I did in 2013, then I will write a pretty good book in the coming year.  Please pray for me!

May the Lord richly bless you in the New Year.

Different Than Expected

There’s a Christmas song on the radio that I love.  It’s a song that is sung from Joseph’s perspective and it says:

Why me, I'm just a simple man of trade
Why Him, with all the rulers in the world
Why here inside this stable filled with hay
Why her, she's just an ordinary girl
Now I'm not one to second guess what angels have to say
But this is such a strange way to save the world  

This is a strange way for God to save the world.  When we look beyond the words that we are so familiar with, the Christmas story is not the type of story we might expect to find for the birth of the Lord and Savior of the world.  It’s not a grandiose story.  It’s certainly not as romantic as we make it out to be. 

Jesus was born to a poor, unwed teenage mother.  Mary’s pregnancy brought tremendous shame to Joseph; the disgrace of being engaged to be married to Mary who becomes pregnant was unfathomable.  The long, arduous 80 miles journey to Bethlehem by donkey – Mary nine months pregnant.  Normally it would take about 4 days to travel from Nazareth to Bethlehem by donkey. However, Mary, nearing her due date would require more than 4 days for fear of miscarriage. So perhaps it took them a week (or more) to arrive in Bethlehem.

Mary gives birth in the filth of a barn, probably lying on top of stiff, dirty, itchy straw.  The Christ child is laid in a feeding trough for barn animals, not the nice cradle that we find in our nativity scenes. 

The shepherds – the first ones the angels tell of the birth of Christ – the first ones to see the infant Jesus - were outcasts.  Not the most upstanding part of society back in Jesus' day; certainly not the most important people.  Yet these rough, unrefined shepherds were chosen by God to get the first look at the Savior.  The most significant event of the universe witnessed by the nobodies of society.  Unbelievable.

 

God allows his Son…. The Christ to be born into humble beginnings, without any outward splendor.  This Messiah, this Savior is “good news of great joy for ALL the people.”  The long awaited Messiah was not unapproachable royalty.  Was this what Mary expected?  Is it what we expect?

I can almost hear Mary’s gasp of relief when the birth is over; Joseph’s smothered joy at seeing this child;  the cry of the newborn Christ.  Jesus birth was so humble, so seemingly routine; grace took on human flesh and scarcely broke the hush of midnight.  Of course the night wasn’t over yet !  Christ’s birth was a gift and it was one God intended to share.  There was nothing under-the-radar about angels shouting the news of Christ to startled shepherds, singing at the top of their angelic lungs.  Celebration!  Adoration!  Good news for all people!

I don’t suppose the shepherds were expecting divine revelation when they gathered their flocks that night, but after seeing Jesus for themselves, they too, “spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child.”

And more than two thousand years later, we proclaim the same thing.  “He has come!” we proclaim on Christmas Eve!  As the prophet Isaiah proclaimed so many years ago; “A child has been born for us and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father; Prince of Peace.” 

We hear this story every year.   I don’t get tired of hearing it.  But this year, something caught my attention.  Something really touched me. Tucked in the middle of the reaction of the shepherds. “But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.”    In the midst of the humbleness, the unexpectedness of the situation, Mary treasures all these words and ponders them in her heart.

I remember every detail of the births of each of my daughters.  The miracle of the child I held in my arms after so many months of waiting.  Memorizing the shape of their face – their little nose… their mouth.  Fingers and toes.  Their smell.  How beautiful they were.  How perfect.  I guess you could say that I treasured everything about my newborn daughters; “I treasured these things in my heart”.  It’s why I can still recall every detail today.  More than 25 years later I can still feel my emotions when I held my babies for the first time.  I can still put myself back in that hospital bed.  That new baby… still wet with birth fluids wrapped in my arms.  Such a miracle.

I imagine Mary had similar thoughts and feelings.  She had carried her baby for nine months.  She had waited to give birth.  I imagine she was amazed at the simple miracle of birth; I imagine that she was enthralled by the shape of his face… his nose… his mouth.  I imagine she counted his fingers and his toes.  I imagine she treasured the same things about her newborn child that I did.

But this wasn’t an ordinary child.  The shepherds told Mary and Joseph what the angels had told them about the child.   They told Mary and Joseph that they had traveled to Bethlehem to see the Christ child for themselves.  And Mary treasured these words in her heart.  She considered them precious; she cherished them.  She tucked these words; the news that angels had come to a field and proclaimed the birth of her son to these unsuspecting shepherds; that they had traveled to Bethlehem to see for themselves; these reminders of who this child was, in with her thoughts and feelings about the child she had birthed.  This baby boy.  And she treasured them.  She cherished them.  In the Message Bible, Eugene Peterson says that, “Mary kept all these things to herself, holding them dear, deep within her.”  I like that.  She treasured them deep within her.

These words of the shepherds, the proclamation by the angels, are added to her other experiences of God’s revelation – Gabriel’s visit to her nine months before.  She ponders what this all means.  She deeply and thoroughly considers all these things.  She stores them deep within her.

This is God’s Son.  The promised Messiah.  The Savior of the world.   What do you suppose she was thinking?  What do you suppose she was feeling?  For nine months Mary carried God’s child in her womb.  For nine months she must have wondered what he would be like – God’s Son.  She must have thought about what it would be like… how it would be… to give birth to the Messiah – the promised Savior of the world.

I wonder if it was what she expected.  I wonder if she expected that she would have to travel on a donkey for days when she was nine months pregnant.  Do you think she expected to be told there was no room for them to stay?  No place for her to give birth?  Did she expect to give birth to God’s Son in a dirty, smelly stable filled with animals? Did she anticipate that the Savior of the world would lie in a feeding trough filled with hay?  Do you suppose this is how she expected God’s Son to come into the world?   

As Mary held her son that night… as her maternal instincts kicked in, did she wonder how this defenseless baby could be the promised Messiah?   God’s revelation to Mary nine months prior; the angels glorious revelation to the shepherds matched the momentous news that God had come to earth in the person of this baby Jesus.  Did the praising, the worship, the angelic chorus that night, match the reality of her experience? 

 

I imagine that Mary pondered why the promised Messiah – the Savior of the world, would be born in a barn, laid in a feeding trough.   I wonder what Mary was thinking?  Was she thinking that this was a strange way for God to save the world?  Is it what she expected?  Is it what you expect?

The Christmas story is a beautiful story.  I will always love hearing it.  But it’s more than just a story.  This story is life changing and life saving.  God changed the world that night so many years ago in Bethlehem.  This precious baby boy grows up and turns the world upside down.  This precious baby boy grows up and makes the ultimate sacrifice so that every one of us will be forgiven for our sinful ways.  This precious baby boy is our way to eternal life.  This baby boy is our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

 

This night, long ago in Bethlehem, God took on human flesh and came and lived among us that we may not perish, but have eternal life.  This is worth pondering.  This is worth sharing.  This is very good news.  “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors.”    Amen.

Advent Thoughts

This is the Third Sunday of Advent; the season of the Church when we are reminded to wait and prepare for the coming Messiah – to wait for the coming Christ child.  Advent is a time of longing; a time of anticipation; a time of hope.

But why?  Why is such a big deal made out of waiting for a baby to be born in a manger?  Why the fuss?  What is it that we are hoping for?

This is a time when Christians are reminded that there is a big difference between waiting for Christmas and waiting for Christ.  Christmas – the holiday that most of us celebrate; the holiday that retailers count on to make their profits for the year, has come to have little to do with Christ.   Waiting for Christmas is about getting the decorations up, the shopping done.  It’s about scurrying and over scheduling.  It’s about running to get everything done until we are so tired we can’t enjoy it.  But this busyness; what the world has us believe is Christmas has nothing to do with Christ. 

And so each year, while we simultaneously prepare for the holiday of Christmas, the church teaches us to slow down; to prepare ourselves; to wait and watch for the coming Christ.  But again, I ask you:  why?  What’s the big deal?

Advent is a time when we are filled with new hope and great anticipation for what the coming Christ child means for a hurt and broken world.  Waiting for the Christ child requires us to draw on our collective memories of God’s people as a source of hope for the future – hope we sorely need today.  We anticipate and long for the coming Christ because He is the way of redemption and salvation for all the world.  But why?

We hope and anticipate the coming Christ because He is God hidden in human form, who comes to reveal the power of the powerless in his self-giving act on the cross.  And it is through his self-giving act on the cross that our sins are forgiven and we are reconciled to God.  It is through his self-giving act on the cross that we who believe are saved from death and by grace receive eternal life.  This is good news!

But for too many of us, the story stops here.  I am saved, we say.  That’s it.    That’s all that matters.  Yet if we call ourselves Christians – followers of Christ, we need to ask ourselves what this means.  For what reason; for what purpose am I saved?  You see, our individual salvation is not the end-all. 

The prophet Isaiah tells us God’s purpose for the world.   And when Jesus’ began his ministry, he stood before the synagogue and read these same words from the prophet Isaiah. “The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me, because the LORD has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners,  ² to proclaim the year of the LORD's favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn,” (Isaiah 61:1-2)   And when he finished, he closed the scroll and said, “"Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing." (Luke 4:21)  

How many of you are familiar with the story of Alice in Wonderland?  When Alice falls through the rabbit-hole into Wonderland, she is convinced that she has fallen right through the earth and is destined to come out where people will be upside down.

The Third Sunday of Advent invites us into a world of reversals, a world where the captives are freed, where the hungry are filled and where the rich are sent away empty. It is certainly a world where things are turned upside down. From the point of view of social order, such reversals could be considered Antipathies. But from God’s point of view, they are signs of transformation.

In order to appreciate the strength of today’s message from Isaiah, we must remember that he was speaking to people who were dispossessed, people in need of a message of hope, a promise of some kind of economic reversal. This same description of reversal is found throughout Jesus’ teachings in the gospels. There we see that the lowly enjoy the blessings that God promised long ago. 

God offers us the possibility of a new world. The Wonderland to which we are invited is not some mad tea party attended by an array of strange guests. It is a world established in justice and peace, a world in which all will hear the glad tidings of salvation.

In order to enter the mysterious new world that lies before us, like Alice, we have to undergo some kind of change; some kind of transformation. And so once again today, we are reminded that the preaching of John the Baptist is repentance; repentance in preparation for the coming Lord. Make straight the way of the Lord! Get rid of any obstacle that might deter His arrival. Eliminate from our lives the greed that impoverishes others, the arrogance that tries to set us above the rest, the power that makes us abusive, the selfishness that turns us in on our own concerns alone. Today we are all aware of the destructive evil that such attitudes have spawned. We suffer the consequences of their corrosive power. But our faith reminds us that we do not have to remain victims of these forces.

There is a far better way of living in the world, and on this Third Sunday of Advent we stand at its threshold. The question, however, is: Are we willing to step forward? Or are we afraid to have our world turned upside down? Are we the poor who will hear the good news of reversal, or are we the ones responsible for their poverty? Are we the brokenhearted who will be healed, or have we broken their hearts? Are we the captives who will be freed, or are we the captors who have restrained them? On what side of the reversals do we find ourselves?

Advent is a time to search our hearts, to discover where, both individually and as a community, we need to change. It is a time of expectation, for we are told that there is one who has the power to heal our personal brokenness, to heal our fractured families, to heal our troubled church, to heal our bleeding world. Isaiah tells us that he is coming; John tells us that he is already in our midst. His presence among us should make us rejoice; the saving power that he brings should give us confidence. If we open our hearts to this saving power, we can indeed transform our society; we can renew our church, we can work toward peace in the world—we can turn our world upside down.

Isaiah ties God’s salvation of the Israel to the mission of changing the world.  Jesus proclaims this same missional salvation as his reason for being in the world.  If we claim to be followers of Christ, this must be our mission too.  Our salvation is not an end, but a beginning to doing Christ’s work in the world. 

This next week, rejoice in the realization that Christ is in our midst, ready to work through us to heal our world.  But, let’s also spend time praying that God will shine His light to help you recognize what in your life should be turned “upside down” and for the courage to change it.    Amen.  

Just Waiting - Again

I'm not good at waiting.  Probably because I don't like to wait.  I used to pray for patience but then I realized that way too often God gave me what I prayed for - opportunities to learn patience and that just hurt too much!  I've stopped praying for patience!

Yet here I am, waiting on God.  I'm praying and anticipating that God is calling me back to serve His church.  I'm in the discernment process.  I'm waiting.  I want Him to call me NOW.  But I know that's not how God works - His time has never been my time.  I need to rest in the assurance that God has a plan and His timing and His plan is much better than mine - although a clue would be really nice.  I need to trust that the Holy Spirit is in the midst of the process.   And I do trust; and I do know these things.  My problem is that although God has given me lots of opportunities to learn patience, I've never gotten the lessons right.  I've never learned to like waiting.

It's probably no accident that my season of waiting happens to be the Church season of Advent.  Advent is the time of preparation for the arrival or coming of the Messiah - the Christ child.  So Advent to is a time of waiting.  When we are preparing for something, we are waiting.  At Advent, we wait for the birth of Jesus Christ, who I proclaim as my Lord and Savior.  During Advent our lectionary Scripture lessons help us prepare our hearts for this baby that will be born in a barn to teenage parents and completely turn the world upside down.  "The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood."  (John 1:14).

So, as hard as it is, I wait.  While I wait, I pray and read my devotions, and prepare myself (the best I can) for whatever it is God is preparing for me in the future.  I remind myself (sometimes hourly) that God's timing is perfect.  I try to be grateful for what He has already given me and appreciate where I am in the moment.  And if I'm totally honest, I'll also admit that I remind Him not to keep me waiting too long!

Advent Poem

No one can celebrate
a genuine Christmas
without being truly poor.
The self-sufficient, the proud,
those who, because they have
everything, look down on others,
those who have no need
even of God - for them there
will be no Christmas.
Only the poor, the hungry,
those who need someone
to come on their behalf,
will have that someone.
That someone is God.
Emmanuel. God-with-us.
Without poverty of spirit
there can be no abundance of God.

Oscar Romero

Thanks Giving

We are preparing to enter into the week of Thanksgiving.  A time that for many of us means family and food (and football).  Thanksgiving is a time to be together with those you love and after being away from my family, I am thankful we will be together this year. We will cook our favorite dishes together and then sit around a big table with our extended family and eat more food than we need to eat.  I know that I will look around the table and see my daughter's beautiful faces and be thankful that we are together.  I will see my sister and her family and her family's family and be grateful that we are all together.  We will laugh and share family stories.  We will play games and my heart (in addition to my belly) will be full.

Yet I wonder if we even know what it means to be grateful.  All around me are advertisements and signs for "Black Friday."  A day after Thanksgiving, thousands and thousands of consumers will rush to shopping malls to fight the crowds to buy more the day after we focused on being grateful for all we have.  Our consumer mentality wins out while 46 million Americans continue to live in poverty and the whole nation of the Philippians fights for survival.  Where should our gratitude be focused?

You see, we tend to be thankful for stuff but scripture tell us that we need to be in all things because God is in all things.  1 Thessalonians 5:18 says,  "Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you who belong to Christ Jesus." 

Now I don't think Paul is saying we need to say, "gosh, I'm really thankful for this cancer I have," or "I'm so glad I lost my job!"   That wouldn't be real.  Hard times are hard times. They suck.  But what we can thank God for is his unending, unconditional love and grace and mercy in the midst of all circumstances through Jesus Christ.  God is faithful and steadfast.   We are called to rejoice in him, pray to him and give thanks to him for his mercies.   

We are blessed people and yet I know that I fail to see and understand the many, many blessings God pours on me each and every day.  And so it's not so much about a day called Thanksgiving but a spirit of thanks giving - giving thanks each and every day to a might and powerful, yet loving and merciful God.  May this spirit of giving thanks be our spirit - this coming week and this coming year.

Psalm 105:1   Give thanks to the LORD and proclaim his greatness. Let the whole world know what he has done. 

The Beach

I love the beach.   There is something about the ocean that stills my soul and brings me peace.  It doesn't matter when or why I go, or who I go wit;, God always finds me at the ocean.  He shows me His sovereignty and majesty in the power  and roar of the waves as they clash against the rocks and the shoreline, pulling sand and driftwood back into its depths.  He reminds me of  His never ending faithfulness as the I watch the repetition of the waves maintaining the ocean tides, controlled by the moon - all created by the will of my Almighty God.  I'm reminded that though I am as small as a single speck of sand, God knows me by name.  As one of my favorite Psalms says:  

 "For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be."          (Psalm 139:13-16)

There's something about the beach that just naturally causes me to relax.  Perhaps its the consistent rhythm of the waves or the wind that always seems to blow.  It could be that I go "unplugged."  The computer stays at home and so I'm not checking e-mail or Facebook.  My phone doesn't ring.  There aren't chores to be done or things "I have to do" (or think I have to do).  I go to the ocean expecting to relax and so I do. I forget work.  I forget my responsibilities and my worries.  I just relax.  

I go to the ocean and "I'm still."  My mind is silent.  My heart is quiet.  And God finds me.  You see, God is always there and so it's not me who needs to find God.  It's me who gets lost.  Lost in my busyness.  Lost in my stuff.  Lost in my living this life on my own thing.

But when I go to the beach and I am reminded of the bigness of God all around me, and then I quiet myself - there He is.  And when I'm still, God and I have amazing conversations.  He speaks to my heart and I listen and I hear Him and I am filled.  And when it's time to leave the beauty of the beach, I return to my live refreshed and renewed and filled with the presence of God - who is always with me.  I'm just not always still enough to hear Him.

   "Be still, and know that I am God;" Psalm 46:10

Transitions

Fall is my favorite season.  It always has been.  As a child, I loved school and so fall always meant the start of a new school year. That excitement has never gone away for me.   A new beginning.  A fresh start.  I love the colors of fall and I missed the beautiful, brilliant colors of the PNW autumn while I was in Casper.  We have enjoyed a gorgeous fall this year and so I'm feeling particularly thankful.  

Tonight I'm sitting in the comfort of my living room, curled up in my favorite chair, wrapped up in a blanket, listening to the wind and the rain outside.  There is a wild storm brewing outside.  The second big storm of the season.  The second time that high winds are sending the brilliantly colored leaves swirling through the air, tumbling about wildly here and there, landing them randomly on the ground.  We are quickly transitioning from fall to winter. Soon the leaves will be gone; the trees will be bare.

It's the cycle of life.  Unless the trees lose their leaves each year, new buds aren't able to appear, and new birth can't burst forth with the green of spring.  It's the way God planned things.  Transitions bring change.  Transitions birth new life.

I'm in transition.  It's lasted nearly a year now - a long time to be in transition.  I feel a little bit like those brilliantly colored fall leaves right now - swirling about in the ruach (breath or wind) of the Holy Spirit. But because it's God, I know it's not random and I know that He's in charge.  I know that wherever I land, it will be where God intends me to be.  I am filled with anticipation for the new thing God is preparing to birth in me.  I'm filled with hope and excitement for a potential pastoral call that I feel led to.  I feel His presence in my life in a powerful way and am in awe of His faithfulness. 

I'm excited!  I sense a new beginning is ahead!  Praise Be to God!

The Significance of a Day

Tomorrow is November 1^st.  For some, it’s just Friday, the day after Halloween. It’s the start of another month – November.  It’s the signal that fall is quickly turning into winter.  The holiday season is right around the corner.  Soon it will be Thanksgiving and then before we know it, Christmas will be here.  Big holiday meals, gifts, and family gatherings are often what we think about in November and December.  Celebrations, being thankful, gathering together and giving and receiving gifts have come to define these last two months of the year.  Anyone walking into nearly any retail stores can’t miss it – buy, buy, buy!

But for more than 45.8 million people, tomorrow is incredibly more significant than just the start of another month and it is certainly not the beginning of a joyous holiday season.  For more than 45.8 million people in the United States (only about 67% of who actually qualify), tomorrow their SNAP (Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program) benefits will be reduced as part of our government’s effort to balance the budget. 

These cuts will cause hardship for SNAP participants, including 22 million children in 2014 (10 million of whom live in “deep poverty,” with family incomes below half of the poverty line) and 9 million people who are elderly or have a serious disability.  Cutting these households’ benefits will reduce their ability to purchase food.  This cut will be the equivalent of taking away 21 meals per month for a family of four, or 16 meals for a family of three, based on calculations using the $1.70 to $2 per meal provided for in the Thrifty Food Plan.  (www.cbpp.org/cms/?fa=view&id=38990)

In protest of these cuts, my denomination, The Presbyterian Church (USA) is asking our churches to set aside the week of November 17-23 to challenge your family to live on a SNAP food budget.  The Challenge simply spending only the designated dollar amount per day, per person, on everything that you eat, including breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks, seasonings and drinks.  Most of us are lucky – we can “choose” to do this for a week and then go back to our normal budget and habits of eating when we want and not just when we are hungry.  For 45.8 million people - 22 million children, this isn't an option; it's a reality each and every day.

As the PC(USA) website states:  “As people of faith, our morality as citizens of a divine covenant requires us to focus on fair distribution of the abundance that God gives to us. In so doing, we must acknowledge that food distribution in the United States is unfair in its affordability and accessibility, particularly among the poor.”  We cannot ignore the issue of hunger in our own communities.  It’s simply immoral.  It's sinful.

 

Matthew 25: ³¹ “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his glorious throne. ³² All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. ³³ He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.

³⁴ “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. ³⁵ For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, ³⁶ I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

³⁷ “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? ³⁸ When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? ³⁹ When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

⁴⁰ “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’

⁴¹ “Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. ⁴² For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, ⁴³ I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.’

⁴⁴ “They also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?’  ⁴⁵ “He will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’  ⁴⁶ “Then they will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.”

God Speaks Into Darkness

I haven't posted since early September because I've been sick - in fact I've never been so ill before.  Somehow I got whooping cough and it put me into an asthma crisis.  It completely knocked me down for two full weeks and there were days when I wasn't sure i was going to make it.  A month later, I'm still struggling to recover but I'm back at work and slowly regaining my strength and energy. 

 

I experienced firsthand the loneliness of illness.  I was too sick for conversation or activities but I still wanted companionship.  I wanted to know that someone was there – just sitting there with me.  But because I was contagious, no one could be around me. As a hospice chaplain,  I learned a lot that now informs my care of patients.  Most profoundly, I experienced the nearness of God in the midst of the deep darkness of my illness in a way that brought new life and hope and meaning.  Perhaps it was because I could only lie in my bed and sleep and be quiet enough to hear His voice, but after yearning to feel His presence for several months, it was in the midst of my severe illness and isolation that I found God.  God spoke to my future at a time when I was questioning whether I even had a future at all.

Without going into all the details or tell you about the wrestling involved, the message was clear.  God is calling me back to serve His Church!  It is time for me to throw my hat into the ring and look for a pastoral call.  My heart is singing with joy.   I love being a pastor!  I love being in relationship with people.  I have a heart for pastoral care.  I love the study and teaching and preaching.  I love equipping a congregation to be the hands and feet of Jesus Christ in their community.  I rejoice when I see people’s lives transformed by the God’s love and mercy and grace.  I have missed serving in a church.  Lying in bed, literally gasping for breath with whooping cough and asthma, the Holy Spirit showed me that the sadness lodged deep in my soul was the sadness of not pastoring a church.  Perhaps my gasping was symbolic for gasping for what gives me life.  I believe that God has a call for me where I can serve His Church and be near my family. 

Never underestimate God.  When or where He will speak to us.  What He will use to get our attention.  God chose to speak into my life in the midst of the darkness of my illness – bringing joy and hope when I was feeling isolated and pretty hopeless.  I wait in anticipation of the fulfillment of His promise.

Psalm 30   “I will praise you, Lord, for you have saved me from my enemies. You refuse to let them triumph over me. ² O Lord my God, I pleaded with you, and you gave me my health again. ³ You brought me back from the brink of the grave, from death itself, and here I am alive!”

Bible Study Samples

Listed below are some links to some Bible Studies I've developed on Google Docs:

Lenten Bible Study: The Way of the Cross

The Teachings of Jesus

Spiritual Formation

Sermon Samples

Posted below are some links to sermons found on Google docs:

See-Thru Faith

Response to The Risen Lord

Lasting Bread


The next three sermons are from a sermon series I preached on Jonah:

Running From God

Unexpected Change

What's Fair God to Do With It?

Allergic to Washington

They say that a dog is man's best friend.  Well, he's this woman's best friend too.  When God called me away from my family and friends to the wilderness of Wyoming, Faulkner came with me.  He was my companion when I was far from those I loved most.  When I felt like my heart was breaking because I couldn't be with my girls, Faulkner was there with his tail wagging, giving me kisses, glad to see me, laying by my feet or putting his head in my lap to let me know that he loved me.  When I felt beaten up and misunderstood, Faulkner was overjoyed when my car pulled up at the end of the day.  He loves me no matter what.  

He followed me to Wyoming and then laid in a crowded car for 3 days while we drove back to Washington State.  He was thrilled when we pulled into Spokane and he saw Jessica again, wagging his tail faster than I'd seen him wag in a while and running to her as fast as he could. Then we arrived back in Tacoma and soon he saw Tracy and the thrill of seeing a long lost loved one was repeated all over again - he covered her with kisses and just like Jessica, Tracy was overwhelmed that he remembered her.  But of course he did!

Now I've learned that the dog that I love is allergic to Washington State.    I'd forgotten all the allergy problems he had before we moved to Wyoming.  I'd forgotten how often we were at the vet; how much he chewed on himself; scratched.  He's miserable.  For over a month I've tried to treat him myself.  Benadryl, steroid cream, anti-itch spray, the cone of shame... nothing works.  Faulkner chews until he bleeds and itches non-stop.  Yesterday Tracy took him to the vet for me and the diagnosis is allergic to Washington State.  Different antihistamines, different steriod spray, weekly prescription shampoo, anti-diarrhea medicine (his allergies are upsetting his stomach).

I'm feeling sad today.  My dog is miserable and I really love him.  He is my companion.  He's here when I come home at the end of the day - whatever time that might be.  He's here when I wake up in the morning.  He reads me - knows when I'm down, when I need a kiss, and when I'm sick, he lays right by my side.  But I don't want him to be miserable - and he is.  I can't imagine not having Faulkner so the tears are flowing.  Maybe it's premature but I'm not optimistic that all this medicine and the weekly baths will help - I'm remembering his history.  

Jessica is offering to take him to Spokane where the air is drier and there's not as much pollen.  He would still be in the family which would be ideal.  But he wouldn't greet me at the door.  I wouldn't see him laying across my chair when I drive into my parking space.  He wouldn't be my buddy.  So today, I'm sad.  My dog really is my best friend - at least he's my best companion.  But, he's miserable and I love him too much to let him stay that way.  

Let Me Be Something

Chaplaincy at Hospice House is giving me life.  Sitting and just being present with people that are dying and families that are grieving is breathing life into my soul.  Seems wrong somehow.  Sick even.  But it's true.  The end stages of life is a sacred time, and to be invited into that space is a gift.  

We don't come into the world alone. We come into the world struggling to be born. Many women use a midwife to help with the birthing process.  When we are in the end stages of our life, we often struggle and wrestle; not wanting to let go.  In many ways, a chaplain serves as an end of life midwife, or an Anamcara - soul friend.   An Anamcara helps relieve physical and spiritual pain for the dying person and the family and friends who are grieving.  This is sacred ground; a holy place. 

It's a privilege to be invited into this time and place with a family.  Little do these families know how much they teach me.  In the midst of their grief and pain, these families understand what matters.  They understand what's important.  They understand what needs to be said and shared.  They know how precious time is.  They know how important relationships are and how little stuff matters.  They know things that we should know and remember and care about long before we - or someone we love are in the end stages of our life. 

A friend of mine posted this prayer on Facebook.  It means something to me as I pray it through the eyes of my patients at Hospice House.

"'Dear God," she prayed, "let me be something every minute of every hour of my life. Let me be gay; let me be sad. Let me be cold; let me be warm. Let me be hungry...have too much to eat. Let me be ragged or well dressed. Let me be sincere--be deceitful. Let me be truthful; let me be a liar. Let me be honorable and let me sin. Only let me be something every blessed minute. And when I sleep, let me dream all the time so that not one little piece of living is ever lost.'"

A Tree Grow in Brooklyn by Betty Smith.  1943.

Weeping for the Children

The headlines say that we will bomb Syria in the next 48 hours.  They are using chemicals against their own citizens.  Killing their children.  Babies are dying.  Doctors are weeping as they hold dead babies that they can't identify.  Killed by evils leaders that are using horrendous chemicals to kills innocent children, women and men for no other reason than for power.  The world is horrified.

So, the United States has warned Syria - and the rest of the world that we are prepared the strike.  Destroyers are in position.  We are ready.  I say "we" because you and I are the we that will be attacking Syria.  You and I will be sending missiles to attack the evil leaders who are killing their own citizens.  You and I will be sending missiles that will likely kill more innocent babies and women and men.

Yet I struggle.  I do not believe in war.  I do not believe in guns and missiles and killing.  But I do believe in justice.  I believe in stopping the use of chemical warfare on innocent people.  I believe in stopping evil.  What is happening in Syria is the work of the evil one.  It must stop.  We must protect the innocent babies and children and men and women who are senselessly and carelessly being killed for evil.  

I am deeply troubled and saddened by the state of the world.  As a follower of Christ, I must fall to my knees in confession and prayer. 

Help us, God!  We have fallen far from what you created us to be.  Forgive us our sins.  Pour wisdom and discernment on the leaders of our nation and remove arrogance and hunger for power and replace it with humility and a thirst for your will.  You are a God of miracles and so I beg you to change the heart of the Syrian leader and end his reign of terror.  Protect the children who have done no evil and cannot protect themselves. May Your kingdom come on earth, as it is in heaven.

When “Thank-You” Hurts

It happens all the time.  Standing in a grocery check-out line, waiting at an airport terminal, walking down the street, enjoying a meal in a restaurant, most anywhere really.  Especially in this part of the country.  Fort Lewis.  McChord.  Bremerton.  The military is part of our culture.  Service men and women are our neighbors; our mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters.  Our friends.  People we know and care about and love have been getting deployed to dangerous war zones for too many years – years since President Bush declared the war was over.  People we know and care about and love have been coming back forever changed – physically and mentally and emotionally.  Or not coming back at all.  If they come home, it’s not to stay.  They get sent back again.  And again.  And again. 

And so it happens all the time.  Someone walks up to a service man or woman, extends their hand and says, “Thank you.  Thank you for your service.”  They mean well.  They are grateful for the tremendous sacrifice the military make on their behalf.  This time, we understand the toil it is taking.  This time we want to do better by our veterans.  This time we want them to know that we care; that we are grateful.  And so some walk up to the person they see in fatigues or military dress, extend their hand and say, “thanks.”  I’ve often felt bad that I’ve never thanked a service person.

Wednesday night, an army chaplain came and talked about spiritual care for the military to my cohort group.  He has been deployed to Iraq and Afghanistan 5 times.  Five times.  He has ministered to young kids blown apart by shells and missiles.  He has listened to our brave men and women weep at the loss of close comrades.  He has felt pain and compassion and anger from hearing the men and women that we have sent to do our fighting express unspeakable guilt for killing other human beings – enemy or not.  This army chaplain wept as he told us that these soldiers don’t want “thank yous”, they want forgiveness.  They need forgiveness.

We learned that our returning service men and women are wounded deep down in their souls.  We, the American people, have sent our service men and women to kill because we cannot resolve our political differences in any other way.  And as a result, these men and women harbor guilt for killing other human souls. We aren’t wired to kill.  

We are culpable.  He told us that the Church has fallen short and it made him weep.  He said that the Church too thanks and congratulates veterans but the Church doesn’t understand what has been asked of the veteran.  The Church doesn’t understand that the Veteran has lost his/her soul.  The Church doesn’t understand its’ need to reach out and minister and offer forgiveness.  The Church doesn’t understand its’ need to confess.  Scripture calls us to corporately confess the sins of our nation and to ask forgiveness.  And instead, we thank these men and women and it causes their guilt to grow deeper and injures their souls more gravely.  This army chaplain, after 5 harsh deployments, has stopped going to church.

We see the suicides, the homicides, the broken marriages, the PTSD…. we see it but we don’t understand.  To truly care for the souls of our service men and women, we need to own up to our role of sending them out to do our dirty work.  We need to ask for forgiveness.  And then we, the Church, need to offer forgiveness to these brave men and women who have given up their lives – whether physically or emotionally or mentally to do our bidding.  This will begin the healing process.  Forgiveness.  Forgiveness leads to freedom.  True freedom.

Sometimes, thank you hurts.  I didn’t know, until Wednesday, how much.  What should we say instead of thank you, we asked.  “Maybe just offer them a hug – no words,”  he suggested.

Sacred Space

Sometimes the hardest times and places in our lives are the most sacred.  Perhaps it’s because it’s when we are up against the impossible; when the storm is at its height; when the sky is the darkest that we call on God.  We search for meaning in a situation that is desperate and life changing.  We search for understanding in a time that changes our priorities and understanding of what’s important.  We search for something deeper than the superficial that has up to this point filled our lives.  We yearn for reconciliation and forgiveness; for conversation about real stuff.  We want to know that the end isn’t really the end; that there’s more after death. 

It’s when we welcome God into the hard times and places in our lives that make them sacred.  Whether we call ourselves religious or not, often it’s the dark days that open us up to the possibility of God – to the sacredness of life.  As a hospice chaplain, it’s a gift to be invited into these sacred spaces with patients and families and loved ones as they journey through the end stages of life – something we all will do someday.  A time when we finally have those conversations; ask for forgiveness; say what’s important.

It makes me wonder.  What if we lived every day as if it were our last?  What if we had those kinds of conversations all the time?  What if we asked for forgiveness when we needed it, not just when we thought we were dying?  What if we naturally forgave one another while we still had time to be in relationship?  What if we said what needed to be said today instead of tomorrow?  How rich our lives would be!  What amazing relationships we would have! 

What would it be like to live in the sacred on a regular basis?  

Home

I’m no longer homeless.  At the end of my day, I go home.  To my place.  For the first time in 7 months – nearly eight, all my belongings are in the same place.  I am sleeping in my bed.  I have a permanent address.  Slowly, boxes are being unpacked, dishes are going into kitchen cupboards, and everything is finding it’s place.  Faulkner is settling in and realizing that each morning after my shower, we go for a walk and each evening when I get home, we go for another.  We are settling in; nesting.  We are home.

I am centered.  I feel happier.  I am more at peace.  Nothing else in my life has changed except that I moved into my own apartment.  There is a lot of chaos in my life.  I'm juggling a lot of responsibilities.  I'm still struggling financially.  I'm still working through a lot of emotions.  But I no longer feel displaced or unsettled.  I belong.  I have a home.

I have a better understanding of what it must feel like to experience homelessness and although I say I was homeless, I wasn’t really.  I had friends who welcomed me into their home and treated me as if it was my home too.  I was never in danger of being on the street.  I was never at risk of going hungry, being cold or wet or in physical danger.  For me it was an emotional/spiritual homelessness.  But for the thousands of men and women and children everyday who are truly homeless, it’s emotional and spiritual and mental and physical.

God gave me a small sense of what homelessness is like so that as I’m working with congregations to develop affordable housing the agitation I already felt about homelessness would be more intense than it used to be.  The appreciation for home I thought I had, would be considerably more intense than it used to be.  God wanted me to really get it.

Lord, may I pour these passions into my work in ways that will result in congregations responding to your call to get involved so that one day, no one will be without a home. 

Everyone needs a home.  Everyone.

Keys

Keys connect us to places that we belong.  We have a key to our home; to our work; to our car.  The keys that dangle from our chain tell a story about our life – where we come from and where we go.  Sometimes people have a lot of keys and we think that they must be really important, that they are connected to a lot of places, that they have permission to get into places that others aren’t able to access.

When I arrived back in Washington right before Christmas it dawned on me that I only had one key.  A key to my car.  I no longer had a home so of course, I didn’t have a house key.   I didn’t have a job, so I no longer had a key to a church, or a building.  I no longer belonged anywhere.  I simply had a car key.  The fact that I was homeless and jobless – completely displaced hit home.  That was a somber aha moment for me.  I only had one key; my car key. 

Yesterday I signed a lease for an apartment and I was given the key to my new home.  Although I’ve been living with my friends Dave and Carol for 7 months now and I’ve had a key to their home, it hasn’t been my home.  They have been very gracious and hospitable but staying with someone else is not the same as having your own home.  Having a key to someone else’s home is not the same as having a key to your own home.

I haven’t lived in an apartment since my early 20’s.  My apartment is very small.  It is 650 square feet.  And yet to me it is a castle.  It is my space.  My home.  God has worked wonders over the last 7 months.  He has changed me.  My idea of home has changed.  My idea of what I need has changed.  I just need a space to be.  I just need a key that reminds me that I belong somewhere; that I have a place to go and a place to come from each and every day.  I just need a key that connects me to a place that I belong.  That's all I need.

Heartfelt Listening

Sitting in a hospital lab waiting to get a blood test I needed for my chaplaincy internship this afternoon, the Lord chose to bless me through the life of a stranger.  A tall, attractive black woman, probably about my age came in with a nurse.  The nurse was explaining that this was where she would get her blood work and then further down the hall was where she would get her CAT scan and x-ray.  She patted her hand and said that everything would be alright and she left. 

As the woman turned and walked toward the chair next to me I could tell she was overwhelmed.  I smiled at her and said hello.  She smiled, sat down, and sighed a very deep and layered sigh.  “It sounds like you’re having a rough day,” I said.  She looked at me and seemed thankful I had spoken to her.  “It’s been unbelievable,” she said.  “So far, I’ve had an EKG and an MRI, and now I’m getting lab work, a CAT scan, and then an X-ray.  Then on July 15^th they are taking out half of one of my lungs.  They found a spot and told me I have cancer.  I just can’t believe it.”

She needed to talk and I was there.  “I’ve never smoked,” she said.  She wept a little and she held onto me with her eyes.  I was just there.  I listened.  I let her know that I heard her heart and not just her words.

And then they called my name.  “Debra.” 

“Just a minute,” I said.  The lab tech could wait.   “I would like to pray for you if you don’t mind.  What’s your first name?”  I asked.  “Emma," she said.  "Would you do that?”  So I took a moment and prayed with her.  She squeezed my hand and thanked me.  We smiled with our eyes and I told her I would keep her in my prayers and to take care of herself.

And so my time as a chaplain began before it started.  And I was blessed.

Listening for the Heartbeat of God   by John Philip Newell

One of the most precious teachings in the Celtic Christian world is the memory of John the Beloved leaning against Jesus at the Last Supper.  It was said of him that he therefore heard the heartbeat of God.  He became a symbol of the practice of listening—listening deep within ourselves, listening deep within one another, listening deep within the body of the earth for the beat of the Holy.  Do we know, each one of us, that we are bearers of the sacred beat of life?  Do we know that we can honor that beat in one another and in all things?  And do we know that it is this combination—of knowing that we are bearers of Presence and of choosing to honor the Presence in one another—that holds the key to transformation in our lives and world?

To listen for the heartbeat of God is to listen both within the vastness of the universe and within the intimacy of our own hearts.  And it is to know these distinct ways of listening as essentially one, as two aspects of the same posture of consciousness.  The deeper we move in the mystery of our soul, the closer we come to hearing the beat of the cosmos; and the more we expand our awareness into the vastness of the universe, the closer we come to knowing the unbounded Presence at the heart of our being and every being.

Excerpts from A New Harmony: The Spirit, the Earth and the Human Soul.  San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 2011.