Changing Majors

“You need to find a major that will get you a job where you can make some money!”  I don’t think I was intentionally eavesdropping, but I did overhear this statement between what looked like a mother and daughter recently at the airport.  I can only assume they were talking about college and the future when the mom raised her voice and invoked the almighty dollar.

 I’m not casting stones at this mom or using her as an example of what not to do.  I don’t think she is emphasizing money over happiness or anything like that.  As a matter of fact, I’ve had similar conversations with my children about vocations and being able to pay the bills.  I can still remember my dad asking me at the second change of majors in college how a concentration in political science would lead to a “real” job.

Why are we so obsessed with “moving up?”  Maybe it’s that we view this upward mobility in all things as a way to save ourselves-to make us worthy somehow of the things we have or want, including acceptance, belonging and love.  If we don’t do it this way, or if life doesn’t look like that, then somehow we are less than good or worthy.  Culture conditions us in so many ways to think that we are what we do or have and when we don’t…we aren’t. 

We’re taught that there is a prescription for success, and our entire lives must follow it to the letter.   And this upward mobility isn’t limited to our work.  We seek bigger titles, higher compensation, better relationships, greater spirituality, improvement in self and others and more of everything we deem valuable.  We climb ever higher to the success we’re expected to want and demand.  We want this for ourselves and our children.

It becomes the measure we use for success in most things in life, including our relationship with God.  Do this and that, pray in this way, listen to the right music, volunteer for the proper ministry (and be sure to tell everyone about it) and a host of other “stuff” and then you will be a real follower of Jesus.  If you can just climb a little higher, then you will be worthy of God’s love, and the adulation of those around you is just an added plus.  So what happens when on day four of your Lenten Bible reading plan, you’re late for work (again), your child throws a fit in Walmart, you scream at your spouse, and you throw the whole “plan” out the window to vege out watching re-runs of The Voice?  Does your Creator love you less?  In our shame over failing yet again or being less than the perfect parent or spouse does Jesus cancel the appointment until we can get it all together? 

      

Stephen Freeman, a priest in the Eastern Orthodox Church, says that our modern selves, and I would argue the human animal from the beginning of time, love ladders. We spend vast swaths of time talking, thinking and dreaming about “career ladders,” “climbing the social ladder” and any other “ladder of success.”  For some, this becomes the heart’s deepest desire and the striving or fantasy of what it will be like at the top of life’s ladder, ultimately strips away life.  We can get lost in the striving, but we can also get lost in the dream.  Like those standing in front of the Mirror of Erised in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, we risk spending our entire existence staring at the vision of what could or should become of life.

Freeman points out that the ladders of the world and culture stand in contrast to the ladder to Christ.  He references the “myth of personal power” and our striving and industry as those things that keep us, at least in our minds, moving rung by rung upward.  Of course this “industry” and those things we do lead to comparisons with others and many times into the land of pride and even contempt.  It’s all “distortion and delusion” when it comes to our faith and seeking union with God.  “We simply are not saved by getting better,” Freeman says.  The ladder to Christ is one that leads down.

When we say we follow Christ, we must be willing to follow him down to the bottom of the pit and the Cross itself.  It’s there that we find the truth of our own need and our need of a Savior.  And it’s there that God meets us and leads us to something new.

If the word from Holy Scripture and the life of our Savior is all glory, then we are at risk for losing hope and meaning when we find ourselves at the bottom.  If it’s all climbing the ladder of glory in all its senses, we’ll hide our desperation and pain from the world, ourselves and God, when we’re in the valley and life, turns to ash.

Holy Week is upon us.  We’re tempted to climb right to Easter and new life and leave the Cross in the darkness of Good Friday.  Let’s take the time this next week to walk with Jesus into the Holy City of Jerusalem, through the streets of betrayal and to the shame and death of the Cross; make our way with the disciples to the Upper Room and the new commandment to love one another.  And then to Golgotha and the Cross where we are shocked by the depth of God’s love for us.  Through the services this week, we come face to face with God’s sacrifice for us.  We accept the invitation into God’s story which becomes our story.  We reflect on our own need and God’s arrival at that point of weakness.  And we’ll find what it means to put the word “amazing” in front of Grace and experience the power of Resurrection in new ways. 

“Jesus has trampled shame and death and invites us to do the same thing,” Freeman says.  If we do not stand at the Cross of Christ, as much as we do not want to stand there of all places in time and space, and come face to face with our failures, know our shame, be overwhelmed with our need to be delivered, not just during Holy Week, but every day, then we risk emptying the Cross of meaning and hope for us.  We are in danger of dialing it in, going through the motions and paying lip service to Resurrected life, all the while hiding what prevents us from truly embracing it. 

 

This part of God’s story reminds us that what goes up will come down.  We see this in the world and experience it in our lives.  But the Good News that we embrace by experiencing the whole of the story is that what is down will ultimately be raised up.

It Changes Everything

“Then he took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” And he did the same with the cup after supper, saying, “This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood.”
(Luke 22:19-20)

https://www.vicarspath.com/blog/it-changes-everything

Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays. I love food. I know several folks who consider themselves “foodies” and take pride in their refined palates and rare ingredients. Not me. Anything edible will do. Give me something deep fried or filled with fat and I’m happy. This may be one reason Thanksgiving rates at the top of my list. Who doesn’t love any giant food orgy where you eat as much as you can of all sorts of gluten and sugar filled dishes? Take that health food police.

 Of course, the food is nice, really nice, but the most important part of the day is the time we take to be with family and friends. We set aside a few hours to sit down with loved ones and break bread together. The decorations and all the other “stuff” surrounding other holidays don’t seem to invade Thanksgiving. Unlike Christmas and the pressure of the perfect gift, the “just right” decorations, multiple weeks of services, concerts, parties and other events surrounding that holiday season, Thanksgiving is about gathering and sharing. The fact that the Turkey is dry (again) or we forget the pecan pie doesn’t really seem to matter so much. A little extra gravy or an extra slice of pumpkin pie cover up the perceived imperfections. After all, we are together.

 It’s as if thanks and presence change everything-the way we schedule and order our day, treat others, see the world around-everything. Hmmmmm, maybe there is something to all of this.

 The reading above from Luke’s gospel about the last supper doesn’t seem to fit Thanksgiving. Jesus is preparing for his own passion and crucifixion, and trying to get his friends ready for the same. And yet, our Lord takes the time to give thanks. He shows patience in sitting down and spending time with those he loves. He did the same thing at other important, often urgent and difficult times. He gave thanks before feeding the five thousand (John 6:11). He gave thanks before the healing and resurrection of his friend Lazarus (John 11:41). These and other examples from his ministry show times when it would have been easy to get caught up in the urgency of the need, the task at hand and the “doing” of whatever needed to be done. But Jesus first gave his presence, gathered around real people and gave thanks to God.

 I heard a story recently about an Episcopal priest and mother who recounts when she first heard about the shootings at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh. She was devastated and in tears. Her young son came into the room and wanted to show her his costume for Halloween. He was going as one of the wacky, wavy, blow-up inflatable’s you see in front of used car lots all over town. He flopped into the room, flailing and falling all over. She smiled through the tears and thought, “This is what I can do.” In the midst of the trials and travails of a broken world and her own life, she could stop, give thanks and take the time to be with one she loved.

  We have so much to do. We have tasks to accomplish and things to “be” in this life. But we are never too busy or important to stop, truly be present with others and give thanks. When we do, we follow Jesus. It changes our vision and softens our hearts. It calls God into our midst and ultimately becomes a way of life.

Sighs too Deep for Words...

The telephone call took me by surprise. Calls like this one always do. Even when you expect the news-it’s still a shock. If I wanted to visit with Tom, I should go to Atlanta as soon as possible. Hospice was called in and they felt he was very near the end of his life on earth. What?! I had just seen Tom a few months earlier and it seemed like he was doing better. He had battled cancer for years, but looked like he was on solid ground in the fight. And now it was time to say goodbye?

I took a deep breath and let it out in one big sigh. It was all I could manage. I guess I didn’t know what to say.

“I’m praying for you,” I would say each time I saw him. I was praying for Tom. He knew that; wasn’t that enough? I was overcome with the call to give him more than my assurances. I cleared the deck of a crazy schedule, got in my car and headed to Atlanta.

And then I heard the voice. You know the one I’m talking about. It’s the voice that second guesses everything you do, so you end up doing just what you’ve always done, or worse, you do nothing.

“You haven’t seen him in months," the voice chided. "You don’t talk to him regularly. He knows you’re praying for him. You can just send a note.” And then the question that stops so many thundered out. "What are you going to say?!”

I’ve been with people in some of the most difficult circumstances in life. And yet there are times when I still struggle with what to say or do. I always feel like I should have the right words, say the right things and pray the right prayers, after all I'm a priest. And yet all those words in the face of some kinds of suffering can seem empty.

I know I'm not alone in this feeling. I hear these comments all the time: "I wouldn't know what to say." "I'm no good at praying out loud." "I don't know what to do." I watch as these words stop people from doing anything.

As I drove toward Atlanta I was reminded of the Apostle Paul's words in Romans. "Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words. And God, who searches the heart, knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God." Romans 8:26-27.

The Spirit of God joins our sigh over the struggles and pain in this world. When we don't have the words or know what to do, God fills in the gaps with "sighs too deep for words." The immortal and omnipotent God sighs because He identifies with us. The life of Jesus shows us this. He was plunged into a sea of vulnerability and was subjected to rejection, hunger, weakness, pain and death. His life also shows us that God ultimately brings new life. God controls it all, even when we can't see it or when things don't go the way we would will them. And how we experience our present is completely shaped by what we believe about our future. Our sigh can be the end of it and we can give in to the anxiety, or we can remember the character and history of God.

I walked into Tom's room. His breathing was shallow and labored. He looked at me and struggled to say hi. He couldn't speak more than a word or two, so I talked a little.

I reminded him about the time we first met at a company convention. I thanked him for introducing me to jazz music. Then I prayed for awhile. And then...silence. I sighed. I was out of words and somehow that was just fine. The words were just getting in the way.

I spied a CD player in the corner of the room, so I picked out a Chris Botti jazz selection and hit play. The music filled the room as I sat next to his bed. I held his hand in silence and listened.

And then I heard the voice. It was more of a sigh or groan. I'm sure it was the breath of the Holy Spirit and it rippled over the music and our breathing to the ears of God. I heard it and I'm pretty sure Tom did too. It was the best prayer of all. Without words it reminded us of whose we are and who holds every moment of yesterday, today and tomorrow in the palm of his hand. And through the sadness and suffering the room filled with hope.

There are times when we don't need to have the right words. We aren't required to have it all figured out and arrive with just the right action to save the day. We don't even have to say or do anything. We just have to show up and be fully present. We are after all called to be faithful, not perfect. And when we're open to the movement and will of God, God uses us, even when we try our best to get in the way.

Even when all we do is sit silently with a friend.

Who Needs A God Like This?

(Montgomery Advertiser article for February-2011)

Who Needs A God Like This?

What does it mean to say that we are blessed? “God has really blessed me,” I hear people say when they get good news of have good fortune. “Have a blessed day,” someone adds as they say goodbye. But what do we say when our day or life doesn’t turn out the way we expect? When a child gets sick, really sick, and you pray every day, maybe all day that things will get better, but nothing changes? When a job is lost, a country is thrown into turmoil or a person we love goes away. Are we still blessed?

The world conditions us to think that blessings only come when life is good. If we have wealth, good health, and everything’s just right, we’re blessed. And when we don’t, we aren’t. But when life gets too heavy—your family falls apart; or your mother dies; or you can’t pay your bills—we can be left feeling that God is absent or doesn’t care. We go through the motions. We pray, but we can’t help but wonder, why? Who, we ask, needs a God like this?

“For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.” (1 Cor 1:18). I believe these are some of the most powerful and important words in the New Testament. The Apostle Paul speaks them to a bustling, industrious and wealthy community. Money, power and human wisdom meant everything. They were signs of success, strength and blessing. Paul comes and points to the cross. He shows them that God is most present where he seems least present.

I can hear the collective cry of the people, “Who needs a God like this?” I don’t want weakness. I want bright, shiny success. I want God’s favor and blessing, and that means wherever God is, waves can’t exist.

Think about the second day after the crucifixion. Jesus died a miserable death. The tomb holds his body and it’s sealed shut. This is how things look from the very bottom. Everyone glances around and thinks it’s over. Lots of tears and a ton of doubt. Who will lead? Where do they go? They come up short. No answers. Utter despair. Really? Who needs a God like this?!

But God was there-the whole time. The disciples had to wait to discover that, but God never left them. God was at work, preparing all for new life.

In the worst moments, God may seem absent, but God moves through the reversals of fortune. Think about it. If you look at your own past and see a deep crevice of pain, it is there that you can often see your faith deepened. You see a trust in God and a realization that you can’t save yourself. You probably didn’t know it then, but you do now.

And yet, we are so quick to exchange this wisdom for the idea that God only loves us when we are worthy or successful by the standards of the world. We are only blessed or useful, we think, when we achieve something or have something to offer. When we don’t, we feel we aren’t blessed. When we do this we ignore God’s saving work in the cross. We forget that the way of God is often using the shame of the world for God’s glory. We never deserve it and we can’t earn it, but God is present, loving us anyway.

God often sneaks in through the back door of life. The crucifixion allows us to derive meaning from reversals. Many times it is through weakness that we are made strong. It is through the cross and resurrection that we see what it means to be blessed, even in the midst of challenges.

Remember how the story ends. The crucifixion starts in despair and ends in new life. The future couldn’t get any bleaker for Jesus and his disciples. But, God had a plan. And no matter what the circumstance, we can look to God’s work throughout time, especially the saving work of the cross, and see what it means to be saved from whatever it is that causes our despair.

For most, this too shall pass. And, for some, it may not. But when Jesus rises from the dead, he tells us there is light at the end of the tunnel, and if we hold on through our most doubtful times, our Lord will carry and cover us.

Who needs a God like this? I do. How about you?

Power and Release

This is the "Montgomery Advertiser" article for January.


I called it the vase of power.  It lived in the living room of my friend, Brad, (names have been changed to protect the innocent).  It didn’t look like much of a treasure to me, but it sure was to his mother.  The vase claimed a special spot in the living room, an off limits place to all children.  Of course, the fact that we couldn’t go in the room made us want to go all the more, and one day, that’s exactly what Brad and his sister, Katie, did.  That day, the vase took power over everyone.​

Brad’s parents went out to dinner and left the oldest child, Mike, “in charge.”  Brad and Katie bolted through the living room, straight into the vase, which split straight up the middle.  With quick action, big brother Mike glued his mother’s treasure back together and turned the cracked side toward the wall. Everyone agreed their secret was safe.  

​And though the vase seemed fine, each time their mother walked by the living room everyone held their breath, sure that this day she would notice and the secret would be out.  They became so afraid of what might happen that they began avoiding her altogether.  The big brother even started to wield the secret’s power over his siblings.  “Do this, or I’ll tell.  Do that, or she’ll hate you forever.” They became slaves to Mike and the secret of the vase.

​Then one day Brad and Katie could take it no more.  Through a stream of tears, they sat their mother down, apologized profusely, and confessed.  Their mother smiled.  “I’ve known all along.  I’ve just been waiting to hear it from you.”​In that instant, their mother released the great power that held Brad and Katie in its grip.  

With the confession came punishments, but it was nothing compared to the guilt that oppressed them for so long.  It wasn’t pleasant for a short time, but the relationship with their mother was repaired, and in it they found love and forgiveness.  They all moved forward, but first they had to name and claim the thing that had power over them.  Only then could they release the hold it had on their lives.  They had to go through confession to fall into the arms of forgiveness.  Until it was out in the open, they would serve it in one way or another.

​The beginning of a new year is a time we make resolutions to do better, or move in a new direction.  We are ready to jump to forgiveness and the new life on the other side, but if we don’t acknowledge those things that separate us from God and the good he intends, they will always be waiting in the living room of life, reminding us of the regret and shame that rarely allows us to truly move forward.  

​I believe one of our greatest fears is that we will be uncovered and left that way.  If the secret of what we've done or left undone gets out, we will be in a free fall that won't end.  This even applies to our relationship with God.  Although we say we know there is forgiveness with God, sometimes we doubt it.  We feel that if God really knew, he couldn't really forgive.

So we try to move forward and wonder why we always end up where we started.  We cover ourselves with the secrets that sap us of energy and dry up our souls.  We become slaves to the lowest common denominator and cover ourselves with bad behavior that left unchecked will ultimately cause us to do things we regret. We justify such behavior by telling ourselves it's the only way to get ahead or that everyone else is like this or that, or at least I'm not as bad as that.

​God calls us to be more.  As children of the living, loving God, we are not just like everyone else.​

Jesus shows us where to begin.  By the River Jordan, John the Baptist asked people to repent and turn to God.  So Jesus, the one who was already clean, already in perfect relationship with God, crawled down the muddy bank and entered the water. John resisted, but Jesus knew this was an important starting place for his ministry and what he would do.  He stands right in the middle of the dirty water with us, in the cracked places of our lives.  He is broken so we made be made whole.  He shows us through his ministry, death and resurrection how to be reconciled to God.  It doesn’t begin at the cross or tomb.  It begins in the cleansing waters of repentance and confession.  

​When we turn to God, confess and repent, we will hear the same voice that Jesus heard when he emerged from the water.  “This is my child, the beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”  (Matt. 3:17).  We will be covered through forgiveness and strengthened to serve in new ways.  We will be freed at last from those things in this world that have power over us.  Through that confession and forgiveness we finally find inner peace and what it means to be beloved.

​Who or what will we serve this year?  This is an important question that will not just determine the course of our year, but the rest of our lives.
 

Sunrise follows sunset, just the way God planned it

Montgomery Advertiser article for October.



Sunrise follows sunset, just the way God planned it


“Would you please stay three forever?”

I asked my daughter this question every day for weeks before her last birthday. She is, after all, my third child. My only girl. My baby. And right or wrong, she has me wrapped hopelessly and completely around her little finger.

So when the big day actually came, and my daughter finally turned four, I asked a new question, and expected the answer she gave every day for months. “Would you please stay four forever?” But instead of the swift and decisive, “No!” usually followed with something about pre-k and tee ball, which quickly told me she had places to go and people to see and staying put was not a part of the plan, this day was different. My daughter surprised me another answer, filled with amazing clarity and profound significance

“Okay daddy, I’ll stay four…until God turns me five.”

Wow. Isn’t it funny how truth--the kind that cuts you to the core--often comes from the mouths of children? Almost intuitively she knows, or at least senses on some deep level, that it isn’t God’s plan for us to stay right where we are. Our inclination is to hold on to the blessings in life, just in case. We strive in so many ways to keep things just the way they are, and yet God wants us to step into tomorrow. Like it or not, tomorrow will be thrust upon us whether we move or not. Sunrise follows sunset, just the way God planned it. We are called on to move, not just react.

The parable of the talents is a story from Holy Scripture that reminds me of the human desire to hold on and hoard life (Matthew 25: 14-30). A man going on a journey entrusts his property to three of his servants. Two of them take what he gives them and use it to make more. One fears the future and takes what the man gives to him and buries it in the ground. In that place, the treasure stays, and doesn’t lose value but doesn’t grow either. Ultimately, the man takes away what he gives to this servant. He fails to move into tomorrow with the confidence to use what has already been given to him.

I heard a story about a woman who visited a marketplace in Mexico. She ran across a man with beautiful parrots for sale. She noticed that the birds were not restrained in any way, and yet they stayed on their perches. When she asked why they didn’t fly away, the man explained how he trains the birds to identify their perches with safety and security. Instead of leaving, they grip their perch as if they have forgotten how to fly. She asked if it was possible to un-teach that behavior. He told her he could easily show them how to release their grip. They could then fly as freely as they wished.

We are like those birds in so many ways. We cling to what we know and what makes us comfortable. Afraid to lose what we have, we never venture out. We want to take time and space and freeze it all. Stay four forever. Or thirty. Or eighty. Please stay right here and keep things just the way they are. On our perches life may feel safe, but remember God ultimately made us to fly and sunrise follows sunset just the way God planned it.

What are you holding on to today? Are you afraid that time will march on and you won’t be able to keep up, or even worse, that the people you love won’t wait?

When it’s easier to stay motionless, remember the wind of grace. It blows beneath our wings with the power of resurrection and new life. God’s plan is for us to fly. And though mustering the courage to change or even move is often harder than the change itself, remember that God calls and waits in the future, but carried you the entire way there.

“Would you please stay four forever?” On second thought, I can’t wait to see the mighty ways in which God will use my daughter. As long as she, and we, are willing, God has so much more planned for our tomorrow than we can possibly hold on to today.

He's Got the Whole World (and History) In His Hands

Montgomery Advertiser Article - July 2010



"I do." "I will."

These words remind me of spring and summer – seasons of transition. It's when many people move on to new jobs, new towns, graduation and marriage, and say "I do," or "I will" to the future. Though joy and excitement often fill the hopes of a bright tomorrow, new beginnings often mix with a healthy dose of uncertainty and fear.

The future by its very nature is unknowable. "There 'be dragons out there!" We can guess at what lies ahead, but we can't be sure until we get there. This element of uncertainty can make the decision to move forward or to move at all difficult to say the least.

Maybe you're at a point in your life where you have no excitement about the future,and are instead overwhelmed by the fear of what may be "out there." You must say, "I do" to a future without someone who has passed away. "I will" move forward without a loved one, when you've spent every day of what seems like forever waking up next to the same person. For others, it's making the choice to walk away from a relationship that must end, even though it's all we've known for decades. What has happened to my life? Can I make it out there alone? What happens when I get knocked down? What if my world that seems so out of control never gains a sense of order?

I was looking at an old map in a book the other day. The map had a rough outline of countries I recognized, but the coastline veered off in unusual directions and lacked details. The only clear images were of dragons and sea monsters creeping out of the depths of the sea. Mapmakers placed these monsters in the uncharted waters to represent the undiscovered places of the world. The creatures represented the unknown, and the fear that often accompanies it. As I stared at the map, I thought about the brave souls who said, "I will," and climbed aboard ships and headed straight in the direction of the monsters.

I always think of David when I think of those daring to move forward. David was the youngest of his brothers and an unlikely candidate to lead anyone into the future. No one, including Samuel, expected David to be the anointed one to lead God's people. But, Holy Scripture reminds us that God doesn't look on the "outward appearance" and those things human eyes value, God looks at the heart (1 Samuel 16:7). This boy stepped up and took on the Philistines and the champion fighter Goliath, knowing that God would ultimately "deliver" him. (1 Samuel 17:37). He defeated Goliath and went on to be a mighty king. I can imagine more than a few fearful citizens, and David himself, questioning a future with a young king in the face of all that threatened the people of Israel. His future was not without turmoil and challenge, but it was one filled with God's presence. God doesn't always call the qualified, as the saying goes. He does, however,always qualify the called.

We live in a crazy world. We are in the midst of the worst environmental disaster in our nation's history as oil pollutes the Gulf of Mexico and changes our way of life. Our nation's troops stand in harms way in two theatres of war. The economic arena sees the world trying to contain greed and abuse of all kinds. The economy continues to sputter along as millions look at a future with no job, or limited prospects. State governments from the east coast to the west teeter on the edge of bankruptcy. Each trip to the airport reminds us that safety is not a given in a world with some determined to bring about terror and destruction. It's enough to shake even the strongest nerve.

And yet God is calling each and every one of us to say, "I do" to tomorrow. There are personal, family and community tasks and relationships that demand our best. They require everything we have. Our legs may shake with the fear of moving forward, but God's grace meets us in the midst of our fear and trembling. God walks with us as we move forward. But, God also goes before us. God is already in tomorrow, preparing it for our arrival and waiting to greet us there.

We stand on the edge of tomorrow, and,frankly, we have no idea what it holds, but we do know who holds it. When we recognize this power we can look at the unknowable future and whatever it holds and say with confidence, "I do."