tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27349963307416127872024-03-14T06:56:45.012-04:00Threads of Glory"I love to tell the story..." I live my life at the nexus of science and faith. I'm a scientist by training, and paid to tell the story of NASA Science, but I'm married to a United Methodist pastor and active in my church. I believe that "threads of glory" from God's larger Story weave their way through all the other stories we tell and I seek to expose them through my writing. I live in Waldorf, MD, with my wife Laurie, my son Brady (~16), and my daughter Becca (13).alanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05413930979508026433noreply@blogger.comBlogger232125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2734996330741612787.post-1595362454081519162024-02-14T22:00:00.000-05:002024-02-14T22:00:36.743-05:00Do Love and Ashes Mix? <p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I </span>write this on Ash Wednesday—the beginning of the liturgical season of Lent—which this year happens to coincide with the secular Valentine’s Day.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">It can seem like an odd juxtaposition to have these two days occur simultaneously.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">But I think when we give it some thought, love and ashes really do mix.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">(I</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><b style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><a href="https://bigalscorner.blogspot.com/2018/02/when-ashes-and-love-mingle.html" style="color: #96607d;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">blogged about this in 2018</span></a></b><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">—the last time these two events coincided.)</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ciUQaGq4eSoazLet6dTrY-weusGteraRq899VsHQWVwExAH7zcmQzrVG4Bk61RpR8r9v4uFBPbu6x3FZCvjAjew4UCOEp5ldTXBZCZBTRXalE6m-TPF3miagw03020mH8MW8qd6VGmaiNzjyGPTYMfdihepeRGUTb5m0Q7nB2CNioaZSfnj5q_frVAQ/s300/Ashes%20in%20Hands.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="224" data-original-width="300" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ciUQaGq4eSoazLet6dTrY-weusGteraRq899VsHQWVwExAH7zcmQzrVG4Bk61RpR8r9v4uFBPbu6x3FZCvjAjew4UCOEp5ldTXBZCZBTRXalE6m-TPF3miagw03020mH8MW8qd6VGmaiNzjyGPTYMfdihepeRGUTb5m0Q7nB2CNioaZSfnj5q_frVAQ/s1600/Ashes%20in%20Hands.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">O</span>ne songwriter asks</span><i style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">: “What is love?!”</i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">and begs their lover not to</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><i style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">“hurt them no more.”</i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">(I bet many of can think of some time we’ve heard this song; for me it’s a</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><i style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Saturday Night Live</i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">bit with two dudes at a nightclub doing</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><i style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">everything</i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">together in rhythm to the music.)</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Another singer exclaims love is</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><i style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">“more than a feeling,” </i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">while yet another dismisses it as a</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><i style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">“second-hand emotion.”</i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">One says, “</span><i style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">love as a battleground,” </i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">while another sings that he’s</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><i style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">“finally found the love of a lifetime, one that lasts my whole life through.”</i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">We could list volumes more contrasting perspectives offered in songs—to say nothing of poems and prose.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">To say the least, it seems like there’s a range of opinions about what love is.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><div><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">In Christian contexts, it’s popular to say that love is a <i>verb</i>. What we mean is that love implies <i>action</i> from both the lover and the beloved. We who are the object of love don’t just <i>passively</i> receive it; we’re expected to <i>actively</i> respond to the lover’s advance, so that it becomes a two-way relationship. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: medium;">Love is a grace from God—and while that grace is free, Dietrich Bonhoeffer reminds us that it’s <i>not </i>cheap. While it’s <i>never</i> something we <i>earn</i>, it’s <i>always </i>something worthy of our utmost <i>effort </i>to maintain.</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">O</span>f course, when we talk about love, it’s not long before we think of <b>1 Corinthians 13</b>. It’s worth noting that Paul didn’t originally write this as wedding poetry. He wrote it as guidelines for a fledgling community of Christ followers to live by as they sought to live lie Jesus, and so the text focuses more on the <i>agape</i> (love of God) and <i>philos</i> (love between siblings and friends) than on <i>eros</i> (romantic love). But as today’s popular saying goes, in some ways, “love is love,” so it was a natural extension to apply it to <i>eros</i> as well.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">You might want to take a look at “the Love Chapter” in your Bible as you read the rest of this article. Notice how full it is of verbs. Some say </span><span style="color: #00b71f; font-family: Garamond, serif;">what love is; </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">others say </span><span style="color: #a2003d; font-family: Garamond, serif;">what love isn’t</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">—but it’s all about <i>action</i>. Consider verses 4–6 alone:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #00b71f; font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><i><sup><span style="color: #2c93f3; font-family: Garamond, serif;">4 </span></sup></i><i><span style="color: #2c93f3; font-family: Garamond, serif;">Love is </span></i><i><span style="color: #00b71f; font-family: Garamond, serif;">patient</span></i><i><span style="color: #2c93f3; font-family: Garamond, serif;">; love is </span></i><i><span style="color: #00b71f; font-family: Garamond, serif;">kind</span></i><i><span style="color: #2c93f3; font-family: Garamond, serif;">; it is </span></i><b><i><span style="color: #a2003d; font-family: Garamond, serif;">not</span></i></b><i><span style="color: #2c93f3; font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span></i><i><span style="color: #a2003d; font-family: Garamond, serif;">envious</span></i><i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span style="color: #2c93f3;">or </span><span style="color: #a2003d;">arrogant</span><span style="color: #2c93f3;"> or </span><span style="color: #a2003d;">boastful</span><span style="color: #d86ecc;"> </span><sup><span style="color: #2c93f3;">5</span></sup><span style="color: #2c93f3;">or</span> <span style="color: #a2003d;">rude</span><span style="color: #2c93f3;">. It does </span><b><span style="color: #a2003d;">not</span></b><span style="color: #2c93f3;"> </span><span style="color: #a2003d;">insist on its own way</span>; <span style="color: #2c93f3;">it is </span><b><span style="color: #990000;">not</span><span style="color: #d86ecc;"> </span></b><span style="color: #c00000;">irritable</span><span style="color: #d86ecc;"> </span>or<span style="color: #c00000;"> resentful</span><span style="color: #2c93f3;">; <sup>6</sup>it does<b> </b></span><b><span style="color: #a2003d;">not</span></b><span style="color: #d86ecc;"> </span><span style="color: #c00000;">rejoice</span><span style="color: #2c93f3;"> </span><span style="color: #a2003d;">in wrongdoing</span><span style="color: #2c93f3;"> but </span><span style="color: #00b71f;">rejoices</span><span style="color: #2c93f3;"> </span><span style="color: #00b71f;">in the truth</span>. <sup><span style="color: #2c93f3;">7</span></sup><span style="color: #2c93f3;">It</span> <span style="color: #00b71f;">bears</span> <span style="color: #2c93f3;">all things, </span><span style="color: #00b71f;">believes</span><span style="color: #4e95d9;"> </span><span style="color: #2c93f3;">all things, </span><span style="color: #00b71f;">hopes</span> <span style="color: #2c93f3;">all things, </span><span style="color: #00b71f;">endures </span><span style="color: #2c93f3;">all things.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><i><span style="color: #e383f1; font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">T</span>here’s a lot of negatives in those two verses. It’s like love itself an elusive quality that’s hard to capture in words, so Paul chose to “define it” more in terms of what it’s <b>not</b>. (You can tell he wasn’t married, right?) On the other hand, people have done the same thing for centuries when they attempt to describe God. It’s known as the <i>via negativa</i> (“the negative way”)—or <i>apophatic</i> theology. So, since Scripture tells us that <i>“God is love” </i>(<b>1 John 4:8</b>), maybe the Bachelor Apostle was on to something when he chose to walk the via negativa when describing love. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">I looked up the antonyms for some of the words Paul says love isn’t. When I did so, I quickly gained sympathy for Paul. There were many choices for each verb. Finding just the right words to say, “what love is,” is challenging! If the poets and songwriters struggle to express what love is, I guess it’s sort of arrogant of me to assume I could do any better. Nevertheless, I’m a writer, so I persisted. For each negative quality, I picked a word or phrase that stood out to me on the list of antonyms. I did keep one negative although I changed it for our context. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">If I were to frame <b>1 Corinthians 13:4–6</b> more positively maybe I’d say something like: <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #2c93f3; font-family: Garamond, serif;">Love is </span><span style="color: #00b71f; font-family: Garamond, serif;">patient</span><span style="color: #2c93f3; font-family: Garamond, serif;">, love is </span><span style="color: #00b71f; font-family: Garamond, serif;">kind</span><span style="color: #2c93f3; font-family: Garamond, serif;">. Love is </span><span style="color: #00b71f; font-family: Garamond, serif;">benevolent </span><span style="color: #2c93f3; font-family: Garamond, serif;">and </span><span style="color: #00b71f; font-family: Garamond, serif;">humble</span><span style="color: #2c93f3; font-family: Garamond, serif;">, </span><span style="color: #00b71f; font-family: Garamond, serif;">genuine</span><span style="color: #2c93f3; font-family: Garamond, serif;"> and </span><span style="color: #00b71f; font-family: Garamond, serif;">gracious</span><span style="color: #2c93f3; font-family: Garamond, serif;">. Love is </span><span style="color: #c00000; font-family: Garamond, serif;">not a narcissist</span><span style="color: #2c93f3; font-family: Garamond, serif;">; it is </span><span style="color: #00b71f; font-family: Garamond, serif;">even-tempered </span><span style="color: #2c93f3; font-family: Garamond, serif;">and </span><span style="color: #00b71f; font-family: Garamond, serif;">at peace </span><span style="color: #2c93f3; font-family: Garamond, serif;">with itself and others. It </span><span style="color: #00b71f; font-family: Garamond, serif;">puts up with much</span><span style="color: #2c93f3; font-family: Garamond, serif;">, always </span><span style="color: #00b71f; font-family: Garamond, serif;">believing in </span><span style="color: #2c93f3; font-family: Garamond, serif;">and </span><span style="color: #00b71f; font-family: Garamond, serif;">hoping for </span><span style="color: #2c93f3; font-family: Garamond, serif;">the best. Love </span><span style="color: #00b71f; font-family: Garamond, serif;">perseveres </span><span style="color: #2c93f3; font-family: Garamond, serif;">to the end.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #2c93f3; font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">I’m drawn to all the <i>action</i> words that describe love at this time because I’ve become keenly aware that—even after more than twenty years of marriage—it takes ongoing intentional effort from both partners to keep <i>eros </i>strong. The same goes for other<i> philos</i> relationships we have with siblings and friends (I’m learning that with my own brother in recent days) and it certainly applies to <i>agape</i>. After all, what relationship is more worthy of our best effort than our relationship with God? Still, it’s easy to settle into a passive acceptance of the way things are in our love relationships. But true love <i>never </i>settles. No, it <i>always </i>strives to find the <i>“more excellent way.”</i> Even if things seem to be<i> good</i>… they can always get <i>better</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: medium;">U</span><b><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: medium;">ltimately <i>eros </i>and<i> philos</i> are echoes of <i>agape</i>—and <i>agape</i> is what is on display on Ash Wednesday and throughout the season of Lent and Holy Week. </span><o:p></o:p></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">T</span>hrough our spouses (<i>eros</i>) and through our family and friends (<i>philos</i>) we see through a mirror dimly what (and who) we will one day encounter face to face (<i>agape</i>). If we are paying attention, we get opportunities daily to practice Jesus’ <i>agape </i>way of love through our human love relationships. During Lent, we come face to face with our limitations. We learn to stop denying them or feeling shame over them but rather to embrace them as part of us and even, after a while, to celebrate them, knowing they are the “shadow side” of who God created us to be. In the shadow of the cross, and all that Christ accomplished there, we know we can always count on God’s strength and grace to be sufficient whenever we feel weak, unqualified, incompetent, ashamed, etc. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2msvQjC0i9bmjvd3oe628NdYgF9DjezzrVCsDxNefrKRpg_0CHDuDcTFLLVolvNINhHaIh3nw-N3b7D6Nw_8YYKvJTWIOh3tbsittIa3wLRGOUJJs-CJ4T_RQuz_zjYsqURyBFFb1EwtAFxC-eBkpAqmub0U4ccJPRvfyYVtwmXldaQwBusgQ-Vt_O8g/s1134/Journey%20to%20Cross_cropped.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="844" data-original-width="1134" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2msvQjC0i9bmjvd3oe628NdYgF9DjezzrVCsDxNefrKRpg_0CHDuDcTFLLVolvNINhHaIh3nw-N3b7D6Nw_8YYKvJTWIOh3tbsittIa3wLRGOUJJs-CJ4T_RQuz_zjYsqURyBFFb1EwtAFxC-eBkpAqmub0U4ccJPRvfyYVtwmXldaQwBusgQ-Vt_O8g/s320/Journey%20to%20Cross_cropped.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Aptos, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">S</span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt;">o, while you won’t find <i>Hallmark </i>Cards to mark Ash Wednesday like you do for Valentine’s Day (as soon as Christmas is over!), I do think love and ashes really do belong together. If we were to choose a Lenten “theme song” the classic hymn, <b><i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tRfcehP0SLU" style="color: #96607d;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">When I Survey the Wondrous Cross</span></a></i></b>, might be a good choice. <b><a href="https://hymnary.org/text/when_i_survey_the_wondrous_cross_watts" style="color: #96607d;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">Verse 3</span></a></b> speaks of how, at the cross,<i>“sorrow and love flow mingled down.”</i> This song reminds us that the cross is where our Lenten journey is headed. (The season of Lent ends as Holy Week begins on Palm Sunday—when Jesus enters Jerusalem and begins his Last Week on Earth.) Hopefully our Holy Week experience will be all the more powerful after we walk this Lenten journey mindful of where the journey will end. Along the way, I pray that we all learn to embrace our true selves more fully (both individually and corporately) and the <i>agape</i> love that is always waiting to embrace us. </span></div>alanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05413930979508026433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2734996330741612787.post-8595038260790950152024-01-05T15:04:00.002-05:002024-01-12T13:06:20.042-05:00Let God's Words Shape Your Story<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCJYIYkKWIS2JeYMN2J0Jl4zb0iAilzO5wqU494eUe9B1IYrgjCAHXo3ZcK4y_C07lnAM-8DgivEqjyrCs_Bk0EsYEjMHOQi0R-PZRShbRCzT4K5U20x2GSYDBP1H-brq53IDhZUkET2SWKihT9lD2j9Kx9Fl2dzaq5q0ODyAaGEEgJtZ1vPjppKVB7EY/s2982/Star%20Words.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1033" data-original-width="2982" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCJYIYkKWIS2JeYMN2J0Jl4zb0iAilzO5wqU494eUe9B1IYrgjCAHXo3ZcK4y_C07lnAM-8DgivEqjyrCs_Bk0EsYEjMHOQi0R-PZRShbRCzT4K5U20x2GSYDBP1H-brq53IDhZUkET2SWKihT9lD2j9Kx9Fl2dzaq5q0ODyAaGEEgJtZ1vPjppKVB7EY/w640-h222/Star%20Words.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #fcff01; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Erratum</b>: For those who may have read an earlier version of this article with<i> footnote 2</i> about Nazareth. While creative, it doesn't match Matthew's account, which states clearly that the Magi find the child <i>in Bethlehem</i>. I confused my Gospel accounts. It's in Luke that Mary and Joseph journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem for the birth in response to Caesar's edict. Matthew includes no such journey. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Each week during the Advent/Christmas season at Good Shepherd UMC, we sang a song called “<b><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uYHpJnfy2lQ" style="color: #954f72;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">Make Room</span></a></b>.” The core question the chorus asks us is: <i>Is there room in your heart for God to write God’s story? </i> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">We’ve pondered this question as we journeyed through Advent, considering the gifts of Presence and the themes of hope, peace, joy, and love. Our journey culminated at the manger on Christmas Eve as we celebrated the coming of the Light of the World. Echoing the sentiments of Mary, Joseph, and the other members of the Christmas Nativity cast, we’ve done our best to answer “yes” and open our hearts to what God wishes to <i>write in our hearts</i> in the coming year. Like those archetypes from Scripture, we know that although we can <i>come as we are</i>, the choice to let God become (or keep being) a co-author of our story will inevitably impact our life and <i>set us apart</i> as we <i>trade our dreams for God’s glory</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">As we enter January, the liturgical calendar brings us to the end of the Christmas season, and the beginning of <i>Epiphany</i>. This six-week season invites us to deepen our understanding of what we are seeing as we contemplate the <i>Christ Mystery</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">On the first Sunday of Epiphany, it is traditional to remember the visit of the Magi (or Wise Men) to the Christ child. According to <b>Matthew 2:1–12</b>, these men from the east (the text never says there were only <i>three</i>—that’s a later church invention around the three gifts) follow the guiding light of a “star.”<span class="MsoFootnoteReference" style="vertical-align: super;"> <a href="applewebdata://98880E9D-B02D-486F-AE78-801A46ED5052#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" style="color: #954f72;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference" style="vertical-align: super;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">[1]</span></span></a></span> As the story goes, they first visit King Herod’s palace in Jerusalem—figuring this to be the logical place to look for newborn nobility. To their surprise, however, they don’t find the object of their quest at the palace. Herod feigns<u> </u><i>curiosity </i>at this news<i>. </i>(Actually, he’s <i>furious</i>—intensely paranoid about a potential threat to his rule.) He sends the Magi to finish their journey and report back to him. The Magi continue following the Star until they come to a humble home in Bethlehem, where they encounter Mary, Joseph, and their infant son. Matthew describes the star <i>standing still over the place where Jesus was.</i> It is here in this “place unexpected” that they have their <i>epiphany</i>: This infant is the object of their quest. This is the king for whom they’ve searched. Their response is to bow down and worship toddler Jesus. They offer the child and his parents gifts befitting not a peasant but a king: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">The Wise Men continue to receive inspiration and direction even after they leave the Holy Family. This time the plot device Matthew uses to guide them is a dream in which one of them (probably not all of them?) is warned not to return to Herod. Apparently, they heed the message they received, as the text says they opt to re<i>turn to their country via a different road</i>.<i> </i>I’ve heard it said that once we encounter Christ, we too can never back the same way; I think it’s quite true.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Like the shepherds in Luke’s Christmas Story, Matthew presents us with unlikely first worshippers of the newborn (more likely toddler) king. While the Jewish sages and astrologers in Herod’s court seem oblivious to the celestial signs of a birth in their backyard, a group of Gentile Magi from a far-away land are perceptive enough to notice and set out on a journey to find him. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">On Epiphany, one of our church’s traditions is to have each person choose a <i>Star Word</i>. Some might say they are just “random words” written on star-shaped pieces of wood (or paper). But the process is bathed in prayer. The pastor prays as she writes them, and we add our prayers as we receive them. We trust that God might give us a word that may have relevance in the year ahead. If we are mindful and intentional, I think we might discover they are more than mere words on a star. Maybe they are indeed God’s word to us.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">In <b>2020</b>, my word was <i>gracious</i>. That was prophetic. A few months later came the COVID pandemic and accompanying shutdown of life as we know it for many months. It took a great deal of grace for me—and for all of us—to navigate those difficult days of involuntary isolation. I had to learn to extend grace not just to others, but to myself. I’m still learning those lessons.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">In <b>2021</b>, my word was <i>soar</i>. It fit me then and still does now. The great blue heron is a like a sprit animal for me. It is rather clumsy when it walks around; it does not fly easily but when it does it is quite majestic to behold. I am like that heron. For various reasons, I have struggled to take flight in life. I feel like God longs to see me soar—but I have to choose to do it, even if the takeoff is hard.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">I don’t know what my word for 2022 was, but my <b>2023</b> word was<i> shine</i>. It’s another word that speaks volumes to a person like me. As someone who is much more comfortable blending in and going with the flow, a call to shine feels risky and vulnerable. Honestly, I’ve struggled to do it. I’m afraid if I do, I won’t measure up to what’s needed, and yet the call resonates deeply within me. Howard Thurman would call it the <a href="https://www.dailygood.org/story/1846/the-sound-of-the-genuine-howard-thurman/" target="_blank"><b>sound of the genuine </b></a>trying to rise up within me. But I have to choose to give it voice, no matter what others say or do in response. That’s where the rubber hits the road.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">So, maybe they were just words on a star-shaped piece of wood, but they’ve had impact on me. Sometimes I don’t realize how much until I sit down and think about them for an article like this one. Words weave together to form stories—and stories combine to form the tapestry of our lives. So, if we truly want to let God write God’s story on our hearts—individually and institutionally—in the year ahead, then words matter, and we would do well to pay attention to them. We’re especially wise to listen to God’s words to us—even if they come hand-written on the back of a wooden star. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Perhaps, just as the Star in the Sky with its guiding light led the Magi’s journey long ago, our Star with its guiding word can frame our story for the year ahead. May our journey lead to the same place it did for the Wise Men—to an eye-opening encounter with Christ.<o:p></o:p></span></p><div><br clear="all" /><hr align="left" size="1" width="33%" /><div id="ftn1"><p class="MsoFootnoteText" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; margin: 0in;"><a href="applewebdata://98880E9D-B02D-486F-AE78-801A46ED5052#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" style="color: #954f72;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference" style="vertical-align: super;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference" style="vertical-align: super;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">[1]</span></span></span></span></a><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <i>If this event is factual, what exactly did these men see?</i> There’s much debate over this. Some wonder if it could’ve been a star going nova, but growing consensus is that it’s more likely—albeit still an incomplete explanation—that they saw the <b><a href="https://newcreeations.org/what-did-the-wise-men-see/" style="color: #954f72;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">planet Jupiter processing through the sign of Aries</span></a></b>.</span></p></div></div>alanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05413930979508026433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2734996330741612787.post-84959306041269598542023-11-29T08:31:00.005-05:002023-11-29T08:49:26.082-05:00Advent: Anticipating A New Day<p><br /></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15.75pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #181818; font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15.75pt; margin: 0in 0in 11.25pt;"><span style="color: white; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">W</span>e have entered the season of Advent—the four Sundays leading up to Christmas. (This is my favorite liturgical season.) The season begins in darkness, which we interrupt with a single point of light—a tiny candle flickering on our Advent wreath. Over the next few weeks, the symbolic light on our altar builds as we prepare to welcome the Light of the World, about which the Gospel of John says: <i>“The Light shines in the darkness and the darkness does not overcome it”</i>—<b>John 1:5</b>. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15.75pt; margin: 0in 0in 11.25pt;"><span style="color: white; font-family: Garamond, serif;">To truly appreciate Christmas, however, we need a season to prepare our hearts and minds—and the starting point of that season is darkness. Advent gives us space to acknowledge the hardscrabble reality of our daily lives, to admit that this world can be a dark place at times. We need the freedom to acknowledge that reality as opposed to glossing it over if we are to truly appreciate the gift of <i>Immanuel</i>—God’s Light coming into our darkness to dwell <i>with us</i>. Church attendance tends to swell on Christmas Eve. By then the Light has come, the baby is born and laid in a manger. For that one night: <i>“All is calm, all is bright.”</i> But journeying through Advent helps us better appreciate how badly we need this Light, and the kind of world into which that baby was born. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15.75pt; margin: 0in 0in 11.25pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="color: white;">At the time Jesus was born in Bethlehem (or Nazareth depending on which version of the story you read), the Roman Empire brutally oppressed the Jewish people. Both Matthew and Luke portray the earthly parents of Jesus as refugees. <b>Luke</b>’s<b> </b>birth narrative<b> </b>tells us that Mary and Joseph are forced to move late in Mary’s pregnancy in response a decree of a distant Emperor that: <i>“all the world should be counted.” </i><b>Matthew</b>’s<b> </b>version of the story<b> </b>puts the focus on the local puppet ruler of Judea, King Herod, whose paranoid fears run wild when he hears about a “newborn king” from some wandering Magi who “followed a star” so they could come and honor him. When the wisemen defy Herod’s order to return to him and report their findings he flies into a rage and vows to eliminate any possible threat to his rule. He orders the slaughter of all boys under two years old. (Yes, that’s infanticide right there in the Christmas Story!) Matthew (writing to a primarily Jewish audience) envisions the Holy Family undergoing a kind of <i>reverse-Exodus</i> as they flee from the Promised Land to Egypt to escape King Herod’s treachery. Laster, after the “evil king” dies, they return to Palestine.</span><span style="color: #181818;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15.75pt; margin: 0in 0in 11.25pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;">In summary, the world into which Jesus is born is not a particularly safe world for a baby to be born. It’s a very dark and violent place. Does it sound like any other <i>worlds </i>you know?</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15.75pt; margin: 0in 0in 11.25pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15.75pt; margin: 0in 0in 11.25pt;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidmW-KdnJBB3hRXDHFl3-1f1b2HPj32wsVtcFiyJMMOHAwi0qSdg4DC4iUwIISa7cH82LpJ7DPhd-y2Aml7kS5nqlzdb1DjboLdE6ei34NGO5_YuLFE0hdmZhzJGd7AeHSBnPuDdQAjS3dB-Mu2A2zgAq-A3wg1cpc2F-vMBMDbZvN4MJ3j6pUWhyyQdY/s2554/Sam%20Gamgee%20at%20Osgiliath.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1072" data-original-width="2554" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidmW-KdnJBB3hRXDHFl3-1f1b2HPj32wsVtcFiyJMMOHAwi0qSdg4DC4iUwIISa7cH82LpJ7DPhd-y2Aml7kS5nqlzdb1DjboLdE6ei34NGO5_YuLFE0hdmZhzJGd7AeHSBnPuDdQAjS3dB-Mu2A2zgAq-A3wg1cpc2F-vMBMDbZvN4MJ3j6pUWhyyQdY/w400-h168/Sam%20Gamgee%20at%20Osgiliath.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Sam Gamgee at Osgiliath</i>. <b>Credit</b>:<b><u> <a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/2734996330741612787/8495930604126959854">Tolkiengateway</a></u></b></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #181818; font-family: Garamond, serif;"></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15.75pt; margin: 0in 0in 11.25pt;"><span style="color: #181818; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;">S</span>am Gamgee watched as the world he knew came undone.<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">As he gazed out of the towers of Osgiliath, under siege by forces of the Dark Lord Sauron, the darkness, oppression, violence, and chaos was palpable.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Sam was the faithful companion of Frodo Baggins in J.R.R. Tolkien’s fantasy epic,</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><i style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">The Lord of the Rings</i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">He followed Frodo on his journey from their idyllic home in the Shire to Mount Doom—the place where the One Ring, which gave Sauron control, could be destroyed.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15.75pt; margin: 0in 0in 11.25pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="color: white;">Toward the end of the second movie, “The Two Towers,” Frodo and Sam are exhausted from their journey to date. Frodo is losing hope that he will <i>ever </i>complete his task. The burden of bearing the One Ring has nearly consumed him: <i>"I can't do this, Sam,"</i> he says hopelessly to his companion. At that point, Sam stands up and looks out at the ruined city and the Nazgûl flying towards Mordor in the distance. Sam agrees: Rightfully, they shouldn’t even be here… but they are here and they must deal <i>what is </i>as opposed to what they <i>wish was</i>. And then he offers up these <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WqDAAeFTKac"><b>inspiring words</b></a> to his fatigued friend:</span><span style="color: #181818;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15.75pt; margin: 0in 0in 11.25pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: red;">“It's like the great stories, Mr. Frodo,</span><a href="https://tolkiengateway.net/wiki/The_Tales_That_Really_Mattered..." style="color: #181818;"><b> </b></a><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><a href="https://tolkiengateway.net/wiki/The_Tales_That_Really_Mattered..."><b>the ones that really mattered</b></a>.</span><span style="color: #181818;"> </span><span style="color: red;">Full of darkness and danger they were, and sometimes you didn't want to know the end because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad has happened? <b>But in the end, it's only a passing thing this shadow, even darkness must pass. A new day will come, and when the sun shines, it'll shine out the clearer.</b> I know now folks in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going because they were holding on to something… That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it's worth fighting for!”</span></span><span style="color: #181818;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15.75pt; margin: 0in 0in 11.25pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15.75pt; margin: 0in 0in 11.25pt;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZnZmwQQo93qVjuVZM_UCoXGuk9KWM3COH4bqf_rDHYGyn9tX5r2pnO1msIX4eGIZRg4XQUKYbrOBHiONgLGHHG1d7qxGaaLdBNSAhJI4n1vw1tfTeyl_FnSFDlytRqziC7iaPc1rFhuGrMHPLYD2Uod5FtW9h08nWeXEpoMORQxau6QMtzjhQX0MRXkw/s346/Advent%20Wreath_blue.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="346" data-original-width="300" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZnZmwQQo93qVjuVZM_UCoXGuk9KWM3COH4bqf_rDHYGyn9tX5r2pnO1msIX4eGIZRg4XQUKYbrOBHiONgLGHHG1d7qxGaaLdBNSAhJI4n1vw1tfTeyl_FnSFDlytRqziC7iaPc1rFhuGrMHPLYD2Uod5FtW9h08nWeXEpoMORQxau6QMtzjhQX0MRXkw/s320/Advent%20Wreath_blue.jpg" width="277" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Advent wreath with four candles <br />lit on the weeks leading up to Christmas.</i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #181818; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: large;"></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15.75pt; margin: 0in 0in 11.25pt;"><span style="color: #181818; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #181818; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></p><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: large;">W</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">hether it’s the real world in which we live, or the worlds that we dream up in our imagination, we see repeated over and over that human nature is to love the</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><i style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">darkness</i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">more than light (</span><b style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">John 3:19</b><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">), to revel in the violence, even to be seduced to normalize injustice and celebrate the chaos.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Like Sam’s exhortation to Frodo, God invites us to imagine a</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><i style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">new day</i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">—and a</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><i style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">new way</i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">of living. Advent is a season where we intentionally focus on this</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><i style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">alternative story</i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">that God wishes to write upon our hearts.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">But when the season begins, the sun has not yet risen on that new day.</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">In fact, it’s a pitch-black, moonless night outside and the new day seems like little more than a passing dream. Awoken from our slumber, we light a single flickering candle and place it on our altar to help us cling to our dream-vision and the hope it might one day become reality.</span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15.75pt; margin: 0in 0in 11.25pt;"><span style="color: white; font-family: Garamond, serif;">The theme of week one of Advent is <i>hope</i>, which hinges on us being able to envision the dawning of this new day—<b>Jeremiah 29:11</b>. Paraphrasing the song lyric, “we believe in the sun, even when it’s not shining,” even when it’s the middle of the night and the sun won’t rise for many hours. Keep in mind the context of the scripture above. The Prophet says the <i>“future with hope” </i>will come only after Israel’s best and brightest spend decades in exile in Babylonia. We’re not speaking of a <i>passive hope</i> where the outcome is in doubt. Rather, it’s <i>active hope</i>, where, as Gandhi would say it, we are to <i>“be the change we want to see in the world.”</i> In other words, we don’t sit back and <i>passively</i> wait for God to bring about the future we dream of, we <i>actively</i> participate in doing our part to make it a reality.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15.75pt; margin: 0in 0in 11.25pt;"><span style="color: white; font-family: Garamond, serif;">Once we get grounded in God’s desired future—as opposed to our own—then the light of the new day begins to dawn, and we can begin to grapple with rethinking peace, joy, and love in the light of the new day we anticipate. These are the themes of the next three weeks of Advent. We realize that <i>peace</i> is not merely the absence of war and violence, but the reality that God present <i>with us</i> no matter where we go or what we do. We understand that <i>joy</i> is not equated with happiness and or dependent on agreeable circumstances in our lives. Like Paul we can learn the secret of being content (joyful) in all circumstances—<b>Philippians 4:11–12</b>. Then, perhaps hardest of all to embrace is the greatest of all the gifts—<i>love</i>. We learn ever so slowly to practice the <i>agape</i> love of God. We live in a world that tends to love us if we are deemed worthy. We’ve all been well schooled in conditional love, but, as Jedi Master Yoda might council us, <i>“we must unlearn what we have learned.” </i> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15.75pt; margin: 0in 0in 11.25pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="color: white;"><span>At<b> <a href="https://www.gsumc.com">Good Shepherd UMC</a></b>, we’re using a song during the Advent season called </span><b><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uYHpJnfy2lQ"><span style="text-decoration: none;">Make Room</span></a></b><span>. A line from the chorus asks us:</span></span><span style="color: #181818;"> </span><i><span style="color: red;"><b>Is there room in your heart for God to write [God’s] Story?</b></span><span style="color: #181818;"> </span></i><span style="color: white;"> It goes on to “warn” us that: <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15.75pt; margin: 0in 0in 11.25pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;">You can come as you are<br />But it may set you apart<br />When you make room in your heart<br />And trade your dreams for [God’s] glory.</span><span style="color: #181818;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15.75pt; margin: 0in 0in 11.25pt;"><span style="color: white; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: large;">A</span><span style="color: white; font-family: Garamond, serif;">s Christ followers, we follow in the footsteps of the spiritual heroes described in <b><a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Hebrews%2011&version=NRSVUE"><span style="text-decoration: none;">Hebrews 11</span></a></b> who traded their dreams for God’s glory and let God write God’s story on their hearts. Their great acts were inspired by confident hope in a good future—even when they had no visible evidence of that future—<b>Hebrews 11:1</b>. Just like the heroes in Sam’s “great stories,” the folk in Biblical stories had many chances to turn back, only they didn’t. Why? Because despite the darkness, injustice, and chaos they saw running rampant in their world, they were convinced that “there’s good in this world, and it’s worth fighting for!” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15.75pt; margin: 0in 0in 11.25pt;"><span style="color: white; font-family: Garamond, serif;">Those heroes of our faith took their stand against the forces of darkness of their day as we do in ours. The author of Hebrews reminds us that many of them died never seeing the fullness of the future they worked toward—<b>Hebrews 11:13</b>. The same fate may await us; nevertheless, we are called to persevere as they did. Like them, we acknowledge and confront the darkness, injustice, and chaos of our time but we also believe that the baby born in that manger is none other than the <i>Messiah</i>—the one who comes to save us. As followers of Christ, we base our faith on the belief that the birth of Jesus was the vanguard of a new day for humanity. We live out our lives in the time between the sunset of the old day and the sunrise of the new—but. like Sam, we live with confidence that “in the end it’s only a passing thing, this shadow; even darkness must pass.” Eventually, the<i> sunrise</i> will come, and “when the sun shines, it'll shine out the clearer.” That’s the basis of our hope for the future—despite the present darkness, injustice, and chaos in our world—and as Paul reminds us in <b>Romans 5:5</b>, that in the long-run, <i>“hope does not disappoint.”</i> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 15.75pt; margin: 0in 0in 11.25pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><span style="color: white;">As we journey toward the Light during this Advent season, may we “make room” for God to write God’s story in our heart, and allow God to weave the threads of our individual tales into the tapestry of One Story can rewrite all the other stories—<i>God’s Story</i>. May our intentional focus on hope, peace, joy, and love, prepare our hearts to receive the gift of <i>Immanuel</i>—God with us—anew this year. May the Familiar Stories of the season connect to your story in a new and transformative ways this Christmas. </span><span style="color: #181818;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p>alanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05413930979508026433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2734996330741612787.post-33199781994573710602023-05-02T15:17:00.010-04:002023-05-03T12:49:38.873-04:00 Becca Turns 15: A Trip Down Memory Lane<p> Yesterday (May 2) was<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> my daughter Rebecca May’s 15</span><sup style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">th</sup><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">birthday.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">When did all that growing up happen?!</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">It seems like only yesterday that I used to hold her in my arms and rock her to sleep and take her in my arms and do “The Rebecca Dance” (which essentially consisted of me dancing around the room singing, “Rebecca,” repeatedly to the tune of “The Mexican Hat Dance”).</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">Now, seemingly in the time it took me to blink once or twice, she’s a beautiful, strong, confident young woman working her way through high school and finding her way in the world.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">Becca <i>does life</i> with</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><i style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">spirit</i><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">—whether she’s strumming her viola, or playing softball, or binge-watching</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><i style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Law and Order, SVU</i><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">, or listening the latest Harry Styles song, or participating in scouts, or reading Scripture, or writing poems in her journal.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">We’ve often said of Becca that she carries t<i>he spirit of two</i>: that of herself and of her twin sister Hope Marie—who lived only two days before she transitioned from life support to life eternal. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">Although we intentionally try to focus on Rebecca on May 2, her mother and I always take time to remember that this is Hope Marie’s birthday too. (And Becca has become more aware of this fact as she’s gotten older.) While May 4 may be “Star Wars Day,” for the world, it’s also “Hope Day” for our family—a much more somber occasion to be sure. We typically visit the cemetery where Hope is buried on May 4 (which in an ironic twist of life, is also my brother’s birthday), and we pause to remember that which any parent who has lost a child truly never forgets. Rather, we’ve learned over these intervening 15 years to “put the grief in its place” and open it up from time to time when we want to <i>intentionally</i> remember Hope—such as on “Hope Day.” <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">To some extent it’s true that time does heal wounds—or at least puts a scab or scar over them. Fifteen years brings a sense of growing separation. Becca grows into a young woman before our eyes while her sister Hope remains an infant in our memory. But sometimes that’s precisely what brings fresh tears to her parent’s eyes late at night, as we look at old photos and Facebook posts about Rebecca experiencing a lifetime of milestones and other everyday family moments that Hope never got to experience. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">I think what I have grieved most over the years is that we never got to know who Hope would’ve been as a person and how she would’ve interacted with her family and with others. Rebecca and Hope obviously would’ve looked the same—but they no doubt would’ve been two distinct individuals. I never got to experience being a father to Hope as I have for Becca. In fact, I’ve always had a sense that the whole world lost something because Hope didn’t live. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-align: center;"><i>***** ***** ****** ***** *****<b><o:p></o:p></b></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">This blog has been in existence since 2008. As some of you may remember, what is now called <i>Threads of Glory</i> started around the time the twins were born. This was my second time going through the birth experience. The first time, with my son Brady (now 17), was such a blur of activity that it was hard to remember all that happened. I wanted to be more intentional about recording what took place this time. I had no idea then how important this endeavor would become. The words I wrote became a chronicle of what we lived through beginning May 2, 2008.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">Obviously, the blog expanded to be about much more than Becca and Hope. If you’ve followed along, you know I’ve posted periodically and waxed<i> theologic </i>about many topics over the past 15 years. However, I notice I do tend to come back to the “source subject” quite often. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b>For those who might be interested, I’ve compiled below is a list of posts that focus on Rebecca and/or Hope. <o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Before the girls were born, as we were preparing to welcome twins, their mom had a short-lived blog called <a href="http://graceliveshere.blogspot.com/"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><i>Grace Lives Here</i></span></a>. Honestly, I had almost forgotten Laurie did this until I was looking back to prepare this list for Becca. So much living has gone on in 15 years, that details begin to slip my mind—which is why I like having this written record! <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->A few weeks before they were born, I wrote a post to start <span style="color: #2b00fe;"><i><a href="https://bigalscorner.blogspot.com">Threads of Glory</a></i> </span>(my blog's name, in case you've forgotten) called <a href="http://bigalscorner.blogspot.com/2008/04/holding-on-to-hope_14.html"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Holding on to Hope</span></a>. I had no idea then how much I would have to live those words in the weeks, months, and even years ahead.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Then there were the <a href="http://bigalscorner.blogspot.com/2008/05/"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">series of posts</span></a> I made during that crazy first month of Becca’s life. (Note that they appear in reverse order; go to the bottom if you want to start at the beginning.). These started as updates when we were in the hospital delivering the twins and continued for a while after we got home with Becca. <i><span style="color: red;">(<b>WARNING</b>: This material is pretty raw—particularly the early posts—as it was reported as evemts were unfolding on that fateful day and shortly thereafter.)</span></i><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span>And last but not least—were all the posts I’ve made on or around their birthday. These include:<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b>Their first</b>. <a href="http://bigalscorner.blogspot.com/2009/04/bittersweet-milestone-as-becca-turns.html"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">A Bittersweet Milestone as Becca Turns One</span></a> and <a href="http://bigalscorner.blogspot.com/2009/05/remembering-hope-one-year-later.html"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">our first Hope Day</span></a>.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b>Their third</b>. <a href="http://bigalscorner.blogspot.com/2011/05/can-it-be-becca-is-three.html"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Can it be? Becca is Three!</span></a>;<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b>Their fourth</b>. <a href="http://bigalscorner.blogspot.com/2012/05/happy-fourth-birthday-becca-may.html"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Happy Fourth Birthday Becca May!</span></a>;<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b>Their fifth</b>. <span style="color: #2b00fe;"> <a href="http://bigalscorner.blogspot.com/2013/05/surprises.html"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Surprises</span></a></span> and <a href="http://bigalscorner.blogspot.com/2013/05/more-surprises.html"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">More Surprises</span></a>;<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b>Their sixth</b>. <a href="http://bigalscorner.blogspot.com/2014/05/is-it-possible-that-mybecca-may-is-six.html"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Becca is Six Today</span></a>;<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b>Their seventh</b>.<a href="http://bigalscorner.blogspot.com/2015/05/rebecca-may-is-seven-years-old-today.html"><span style="color: black;"> </span><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Rebecca May is Seven Years Old Today</span></a>;<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b>Their ninth</b>. <a href="http://bigalscorner.blogspot.com/2017/05/celebrating-and-remembering.html"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Celebrating and Remembering</span></a>;<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b>Their tenth</b>. Letters I wrote to<span style="color: #2b00fe;"> <a href="http://bigalscorner.blogspot.com/2018/05/to-my-daughter-rebecca-may-on-her-tenth.html"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Rebecca</span></a></span> and <a href="http://bigalscorner.blogspot.com/2018/05/to-my-daughter-hope-marie.html"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Hope</span></a>;.and<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b>Their twelfth</b>. <a href="http://bigalscorner.blogspot.com/2020/05/a-poem-for-hope-during-pandemic.html"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">A Poem for Hope During a Pandemic</span></a>.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-left: 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b>Their fifteenth</b>. <span style="color: red;"> <b>The listicle-post you are reading today!</b></span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-align: center;"><i>***** ***** ****** ***** *****<b><o:p></o:p></b></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">Preparing this list was a gift for my daughter—but the trip down memory lane ended up being a gift for me too. My eyes grew strangely moist as I viewed all the photos in these posts. Some of the text in these posts became the basis for more personal birthday letters I wrote to her—or vice versa. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">Some of you might not need to read all these because you lived through these events with us, but for some it may help you know my story a bit better. This event had a profound influence on my spiritual formation. Even now—15 years later—it’s hard for me, a writer, to fully put its impact in words. Likely, it would take the perspective of others who’ve known me for many years (e.g., my wife) to tell you how living through all this has changed me. I hope it made me better and not bitter—although I’m sure there have been moments of both along the way. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">What I am convinced of is that God walked with us as we walked through this entire experience, that God has used the tragedy of us losing our daughter Hope Marie for good, and that God continues to guide our family today. Furthermore, I think God may have special plans for Rebecca. She has a real passion for the Scriptures and learning about her faith. I’m curious to see where all that might be leading… <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">Over the years we’ve often repeated the words we wrote on her birth announcement: <i>“in Rebecca’s face we will always see HOPE.”</i> While this is certainly true (since they are in fact identical twins), in the birthday note I wrote for her this year, I reminded that <b>her mom and I also see the unique creation that is Rebecca May Ward</b>—and that we couldn’t be prouder to have the privilege of being her parents!<o:p></o:p></p><style class="WebKit-mso-list-quirks-style">
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</style>alanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05413930979508026433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2734996330741612787.post-35927050274830810732023-04-25T21:50:00.001-04:002023-04-25T22:10:42.707-04:00Humility: "An Accurate Assessment"<p><i><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: small;">The </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">shaded box below is taken from </span><b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Richard Foster’s</b><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">book,</span><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </b><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: 12pt;"><a href="https://www.ivpress.com/learning-humility">Learning Humility</a></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">,</span><span class="MsoFootnoteReference" face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: super;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">which some of us are studying at my church.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">We will meet the next five Wednesday evenings at 6 PM in the parlor—<b><u>and via</u></b></span><b><u><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">Zoom</span></u></b><b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">. If this writing resonates with you, it’s still not too late to join our class.</b><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span></i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqfwRbs7Ym_WB4e-p30A5Vi_crcKkl-fnPqaQdOiQT-vHfAjKyZNxX0hjnXLik_e1Hg5PxnahQYiN4yp39VwTbdNV1Tmy9PxlsQNcTnigjEuJJHYd0vUEQIsEf15SA-kdah1W4S6Nczu1oPhpnJcZ9f0ZzTRREPe1mGaN0NtVqqYzSZRZLSbp2LsAC/s2463/Learning%20Humility.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2463" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqfwRbs7Ym_WB4e-p30A5Vi_crcKkl-fnPqaQdOiQT-vHfAjKyZNxX0hjnXLik_e1Hg5PxnahQYiN4yp39VwTbdNV1Tmy9PxlsQNcTnigjEuJJHYd0vUEQIsEf15SA-kdah1W4S6Nczu1oPhpnJcZ9f0ZzTRREPe1mGaN0NtVqqYzSZRZLSbp2LsAC/s320/Learning%20Humility.jpg" width="208" /></a></span></div><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><br /></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: red;"><i><span face=""Calibri Light", sans-serif">Do nothing out of selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves</span></i><span face=""Calibri Light", sans-serif">—<b><a href="http://bible.oremus.org">Philippians 2:3</a></b> [NRSV]. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><div style="background: repeat rgb(223, 223, 223); border: 1pt solid windowtext; padding: 1pt 4pt;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: border-box; background-image: none; background-origin: padding-box; background-position: 0%; background-repeat: repeat; background-size: auto; border: medium; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">I really hate to take issue with one of the great saints of the church, <b>Bernard of Clairvaux</b>. It is his well-known definition of<i> humility </i>that rankles me a bit. He wrote, “Humility is a virtue by which a man has a low opinion of himself because he knows himself well.” The phrase, “a low opinion of himself,” is what is hard for me to swallow. No doubt I am reacting to the long history of <i>worm theology</i> that has done so much damage in our day. And, of course, the modern psychological concern for a healthy self-esteem is an important factor also.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: border-box; background-image: none; background-origin: padding-box; background-position: 0%; background-repeat: repeat; background-size: auto; border: medium; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in; padding: 0in;"><o:p><span style="color: #2b00fe;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: border-box; background-image: none; background-origin: padding-box; background-position: 0%; background-repeat: repeat; background-size: auto; border: medium; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Likely I am not so much taking issue with the good doctor as I am trying to translate him into our contemporary context. If I can reinterpret just a bit, I think Bernard is trying to get at <b>the importance of being able to enter into an accurate assessment of who we really are</b>. This is the point of his underscoring the need to know ourselves well. I appreciate this phrase. And knowing ourselves well does indeed bring us down close to the earth: <i>humus</i>.</span><span class="MsoFootnoteReference" style="vertical-align: super;"> <a href="applewebdata://A275BAD4-895E-4C2A-8BBC-C9291B85132E#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference" style="vertical-align: super;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;">[1]</span></span></a></span><o:p></o:p></p></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">I think this short blurb says much about what it means to be<i> humble</i>—and what it doesn’t. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><b><br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Humility is not about shaming ourselves as being unworthy but rather seeing ourselves as we truly are.</b> </span> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">This definition brings to my mind lyrics from a song by <b>Brian McLaren</b>:<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 6pt 0in 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;">We will not pretend to be better than we are.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 6pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;">We will not hide our failures or cover up our scars.</span><o:p></o:p></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">If we’re honest, we do a lot of pretending to be “<i>better</i> (or, maybe in the context of <i>humility</i>, <i>worse</i>) than we are” and “covering up our scars.” We wear “masks” to hide the<i> true </i>us from others—and even from God. We fear that: <i>“If they knew the<b> real</b> me, they would reject me.” </i><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">To give an example, I personally struggle with criticism of things I do—e.g., of my writing. I tend to receive any criticism as: <i>“Alan, you are not good enough.” </i>It’s the <i>shaming </i>voice of the Enemy, I know, but it’s hard for me not to internalize it and take it<i> personally</i>.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">For someone who thinks of themselves as both a <i>writer </i>and a<i> prophet</i>—two “callings” where critique and rejection are commonplace—it makes it hard to fully embrace who I believe God calls me to be. Instead, I usually “play it safe,” keeping most of my thoughts to myself, quietly editing and writing for NASA for over 20 years, and publishing occasionally on my blog or in a church newsletter or other venue. In those settings, the chances of critique and rejection are considerably reduced—though not nonexistent. Any time we choose to “go public” with even the smallest part of ourselves, we’re bound to receive feedback—not all of which will be positive. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">While I’ve occasionally ventured out from these <i>controlled </i>settings, for the most part, I tend to <i>speak my voice</i> in settings that are familiar, comfortable—and where I’m reasonably certain that what I say will be accepted. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><b> </b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">But that’s not me being <i>humble</i>, that’s me living in fear.</span></b><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="color: red;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">That’s me not trusting in who God is—and who God has made <i>me</i> to be. Scripture reminds me that <i>God’s perfect love drives out fear</i> (<b>1 John 4:18</b>) and I want to believe; but if I’m honest, I also struggle with unbelief (<b>Mark 9:24</b>)—which is a thoroughly <i>human </i>response. But as consequence of my choice to “play it safe” I settle for less than all I could be in Christ, and I’m not quite sure how to break the stalemate and break through to fully embrace my <i>true self</i>.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><b><i><span style="background: repeat yellow; color: red; font-size: 14pt;">What about you?</span></i></b><b><span style="color: red; font-size: 14pt;"> What thoughts do Foster’s words stir within <i>you</i>? <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: 14pt;">What does it look like for <i>you </i>to be<i> humble</i>—to come down to earth, to honestly assess who<i> you </i>are before God?<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><div><br clear="all" /><hr align="left" size="1" width="33%" /><div id="ftn1"><p class="MsoFootnoteText" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; margin: 0in;"><a href="applewebdata://A275BAD4-895E-4C2A-8BBC-C9291B85132E#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference" style="vertical-align: super;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference" style="vertical-align: super;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">[1]</span></span></span></a> From <i>Learning Humility: A Year of Searching for a Vanishing Virtue </i>(InterVaristy Press, 2022), Chapter 4, p. 42.<o:p></o:p></p></div></div>alanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05413930979508026433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2734996330741612787.post-57150746051777843902021-12-23T15:39:00.000-05:002021-12-23T15:39:52.400-05:00Blue<p> <i style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Like many of you, I’ve been decorating my house for Christmas the past couple of weeks. I’ve noticed that blue lights seem to go out more frequently. Every year, it seems I replace more blue lights than any other color. I like a strand of pure blue lights, but they are quickly overwhelmed by warmer and brighter colors like red and orange. I think all this, combined with the Blue Christmas Service tradition, got me thinking about the qualities of Blue. </span></i></p><p><i style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">I read this poem during Blue Christmas service at Good Shepherd UMC on December 22, 2021.</span></i></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiqMNWiwHBSPX1hCNMOAtf5mr3hZ4uygPwGPEuT9SLumCNSxOLAY4JHBhFmmHTIrt6B8r1PWijzPTkn3HpWgRGuEA6GW5Qf8-ZfwfYKr3KZQzdIZMTIt_mxT1dECALkeXyU3pcxq9QUy8Tivt1gvXQGNNRofSm1QIlNFqQJA4xNuQ_oZJbyGocnydWz=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiqMNWiwHBSPX1hCNMOAtf5mr3hZ4uygPwGPEuT9SLumCNSxOLAY4JHBhFmmHTIrt6B8r1PWijzPTkn3HpWgRGuEA6GW5Qf8-ZfwfYKr3KZQzdIZMTIt_mxT1dECALkeXyU3pcxq9QUy8Tivt1gvXQGNNRofSm1QIlNFqQJA4xNuQ_oZJbyGocnydWz=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt;">Blue is soft.</span></div><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Blue is cool.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Blue is elusive.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjYtkd3QQUj4hLHznOFYgbzSEShLhUwy8m9QpTaFxtO5WMQHNWK9mffdMjOz5oyZamZp0mLgWIi16dV9CWfys4dmzeQgh76X73kh9A4xLjgGYpRmNbAcuxSw_YaWZb4REHMP5I6Q61ZedQD1whHuiYRzQAJTqJ6IH_72p6DEEyZ039SB8Lug5Hzat-A=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjYtkd3QQUj4hLHznOFYgbzSEShLhUwy8m9QpTaFxtO5WMQHNWK9mffdMjOz5oyZamZp0mLgWIi16dV9CWfys4dmzeQgh76X73kh9A4xLjgGYpRmNbAcuxSw_YaWZb4REHMP5I6Q61ZedQD1whHuiYRzQAJTqJ6IH_72p6DEEyZ039SB8Lug5Hzat-A=w150-h200" width="150" /></a></span></div><p></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Blue is beautiful when it appears in nature.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Blue eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Blue sky.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Blue water.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Blue diamond.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Blue Moon<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Blue Spruce<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Blueberry<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Blue Bird<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Blue Jay<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Blue Heron<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhnfi_MKA7boid7dFfQid5XYUZsZlGo6XAfLgeUqHYhzUBnincOa7qqDO02_o9akaZUOpsrDU6IxKBGJf7H4sBX0JB9Rpq36LGZQPmyud09DbBlvEtZ6GPEabLCq07zLSuL6vu-bgHoSaAdftFd9DYBDDJuj68_jUmn8D0M9SY3uJvAt0R2Z6QM4cWN=s1176" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="1176" height="102" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhnfi_MKA7boid7dFfQid5XYUZsZlGo6XAfLgeUqHYhzUBnincOa7qqDO02_o9akaZUOpsrDU6IxKBGJf7H4sBX0JB9Rpq36LGZQPmyud09DbBlvEtZ6GPEabLCq07zLSuL6vu-bgHoSaAdftFd9DYBDDJuj68_jUmn8D0M9SY3uJvAt0R2Z6QM4cWN=w200-h102" width="200" /></a></span></div><p></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Blue commands authority.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Blue is the Umpire.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Blue is the Police.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Blue is the Navy <o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Blue is Royal</span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Blue is Advent.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;"><br /></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Blue Laws.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Blue Ribbon.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Blue Light Special. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">But Blue is also feeling sad and down,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">And especially at Christmas, when green and red abound,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">This much is true: It’s hard to be Blue.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">We’d rather be:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Raging red.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Flaming orange.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Sunny yellow.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Envious green.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Incredulous indigo.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Virtuous violent.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Any Color other than Blue.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Blue and I go back a long way.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Blue colored my childhood.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">It was the elephant my bedroom<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Which was painted light blue.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">We didn’t talk about Blue.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">But Blue was everywhere.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: 11pt; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEibqp6DoTeH-we5uwiob3U8p3arB5AT-8MZJx6juJSH_8PivTxmjMcOrpCtv3j9ypAVlV8WYm48IrtTpIesQc4Xg1LBI8YdjwHzjgzNgF5iyCQqFxCFiPnV3zyeSBFrXy10VAWdNfnjnyWbozJIli3XqrwHXNHd9-fkqL8NR-d6oTYXOQbmFKZmYB6_=s4032" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEibqp6DoTeH-we5uwiob3U8p3arB5AT-8MZJx6juJSH_8PivTxmjMcOrpCtv3j9ypAVlV8WYm48IrtTpIesQc4Xg1LBI8YdjwHzjgzNgF5iyCQqFxCFiPnV3zyeSBFrXy10VAWdNfnjnyWbozJIli3XqrwHXNHd9-fkqL8NR-d6oTYXOQbmFKZmYB6_=w145-h211" width="145" /></a></div><p></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Maybe that's why Blue became my favorite color?</span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0070c0;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 112, 192);">Other Colors always seemed more popular to me.</span></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">But I always wanted someone to notice my Blue.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Blue helped me survive.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Blue got me through.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">But Blue stayed with me.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Long after it should’ve.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Coloring the walls of my life.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;"><br /></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;"><br /></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">To this day<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Tears are rare to me. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Strong feelings scare me.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;"><br /></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjcptiRzr8CvWTuuWEBnqVd_cAaEiKKPkdLO5AtpFa1FM5fGOiMcn7bT6AbgVizJFcydVyOzfjpA9hOTdfH9k73iqqwpyI-nDaoe9eVJ659TBNaHFQh8skmHP7DLeoeOHH-9mS3souwgBTWoiwwamt5492icxBX0yjp2-Za2Gmz6bDF7350paaRd_de=s2560" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1516" data-original-width="2560" height="119" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjcptiRzr8CvWTuuWEBnqVd_cAaEiKKPkdLO5AtpFa1FM5fGOiMcn7bT6AbgVizJFcydVyOzfjpA9hOTdfH9k73iqqwpyI-nDaoe9eVJ659TBNaHFQh8skmHP7DLeoeOHH-9mS3souwgBTWoiwwamt5492icxBX0yjp2-Za2Gmz6bDF7350paaRd_de=w200-h119" width="200" /></a></span></div><p></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">We're all prisms through which God's light shines.</span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;"><br /></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">We each have a unique God-given spectrum<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">We need all our Colors to be fully alive.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Blue is part of who I am—who we are as humans.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">But there’s so much more than Blue.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">I want to learn to embrace the Rainbow that is me.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Events of this past year deepened my Blue.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">To a point where I lost sight of other Colors.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">I needed some help to see them again.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">For some reason, that was hard to admit.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">But I’m glad I did.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">This Christmas<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Be true to You.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">It’s okay to feel Blue.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">When the night is long.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">And Blue seems all there is.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Remember <o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Emmanuel.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">God is with us.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: #0070c0;">Let your Blue Light shine brightly<o:p></o:p></span></p>alanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05413930979508026433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2734996330741612787.post-49868103033031656712021-12-18T22:23:00.001-05:002021-12-18T22:23:58.092-05:00God's Love Song<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjzhi3H7_Q4fLgmuCJ1Wwl8BHh1zWSR6rKdH8-GJvz_IlabhD8DkAUyTIMzlTriFRukDRHtIGLyCKOO3qQ4gK4NznIuuAzULiHcVfK0NDD5WX-8WT3fCSYK9dATYGek7otLnlle8sUFGwirjn6H2m7liJantdyyaSA0Y6okFDPnsNj8mYgiPUA8364N=s1500" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="996" data-original-width="1500" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjzhi3H7_Q4fLgmuCJ1Wwl8BHh1zWSR6rKdH8-GJvz_IlabhD8DkAUyTIMzlTriFRukDRHtIGLyCKOO3qQ4gK4NznIuuAzULiHcVfK0NDD5WX-8WT3fCSYK9dATYGek7otLnlle8sUFGwirjn6H2m7liJantdyyaSA0Y6okFDPnsNj8mYgiPUA8364N=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">In the beginning was the Song.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">God sang the Song, and the Song was God.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">All things came into being through the Song; nothing exists apart from its music.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Everything alive sings the Song, creating billion-part harmony.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">The Song’s sweet melody overwhelms the cacophony of darkness.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Priest, prophets, and kings sang the Song, each in their own way.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Often the Song chose unlikely singers to carry it on.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">When humans fell silent, rocks, hills, and plains cried out.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">All creatures great and small joined the choir.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Heavenly beings added their unending praise.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">The planets, the stars—even the Universe itself—sang.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Every voice was unique—but all sang the same Song.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Through the years the Song sang on.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">But there came a time when it faded to a whisper.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Few people remembered its lyrics.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">The Song became the stuff of legend.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">God so much wanted God’s people to remember the Song,<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">That long ago in a tiny town called Bethlehem:<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Words entered a womb.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Sound became sinews.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Lyrics became ligaments.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">F-sharps and B-flats took on flesh and blood.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">The Song became a human being!<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><b> </b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjAruFuC1_KZBUuEz0AaL4LxqnsysJjeqrSME34K1OD6zsrJRj05RoCz74o0K6sp8dcN3YV7KFamv1enNGS5RHRymEXI2CcGrZ4ZL2z8sfVdqt57JglGoV-c7NA5ufyxqVbAzjkP4fT8vbmNhJCb3YPEZ6EDW_u0tEExsrj4xaDCBEgl5XC2e329Xlw=s612" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="408" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjAruFuC1_KZBUuEz0AaL4LxqnsysJjeqrSME34K1OD6zsrJRj05RoCz74o0K6sp8dcN3YV7KFamv1enNGS5RHRymEXI2CcGrZ4ZL2z8sfVdqt57JglGoV-c7NA5ufyxqVbAzjkP4fT8vbmNhJCb3YPEZ6EDW_u0tEExsrj4xaDCBEgl5XC2e329Xlw=w133-h200" width="133" /></a></div><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"> </p><p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Did Mary know??</p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">That as she sang her lullaby to her infant son,<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">She held God’s Love Song to the world in her arms.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">As she pondered the happenings of this holy night in her heart,<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Could she see a cross-shaped shadow looming over the manger?<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">I honestly don’t know.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">But I think Mary <i>knew,</i><o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">As only a mother can,<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">That her son was no ordinary child,<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">That though his flesh was destined to fade, <o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Through him all the Earth would be saved, <o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">And God’s Love Song would endure forever!<br /><o:p></o:p></p>alanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05413930979508026433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2734996330741612787.post-32511771821522750952021-09-10T11:56:00.002-04:002021-09-10T12:44:02.870-04:00Running Out<p><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6m91PXzz-iI71ZJX9-dfMhRVPJvm_IiF5_XTKBdE39e0K4PUg2lrVKzwjwKZLpG-NeYXvrSan12IdXIrYV43wpEGNiywRcSj4lU0HAX5cqbRRkzk12iWLJYD3nAKewsL8KKQn5Y8JN-s/s1740/Running+Out_Cover_cropped.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1740" data-original-width="1114" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6m91PXzz-iI71ZJX9-dfMhRVPJvm_IiF5_XTKBdE39e0K4PUg2lrVKzwjwKZLpG-NeYXvrSan12IdXIrYV43wpEGNiywRcSj4lU0HAX5cqbRRkzk12iWLJYD3nAKewsL8KKQn5Y8JN-s/s320/Running+Out_Cover_cropped.jpg" width="205" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">I</span> recently read<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><i style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Running Out: In Search of Water on the High Plains </i><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">(2021,</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><i style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Princeton University Press</i><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">).</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">Written by Lucas Bessire, an anthropologist at the University of Oklahoma, the book focuses on how the <a href="https://www.climate.gov/news-features/featured-images/national-climate-assessment-great-plains’-ogallala-aquifer-drying-out">Ogallala Aquifer</a>, which underlies a vast expanse of America’s heartland, is being rapidly depleted—i.e., it is “running out.”</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">For ages this vast supply of underground water lay covered by earth. Up until the 1930s farmers relied on water at or near the surface to sustain life on the High Plains.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">But after the disastrous “Dust Bowl” years in the 1930s, there was an attitude among those who lived through those days of “never again,” accompanied by a dramatic shift toward reliance on water drawn from deeper sources.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">At the time, the aquifer was seen as a limitless supply of water—an “underground ocean” or “underground rain.” (Humans have this tendency toward naively assuming the planet’s resources have no limits.)</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><p></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">Of course, we know now that the water supply wasn’t limitless. In less than 80 years, the people living on the Plains have extracted unfathomable amounts of water from the ground—often wastefully. They have dramatically transformed the landscape in the process. Surface water is gone in most places and with it, the flora and fauna that once thrived in these areas. Today, some places on the Ogallala have all but depleted the groundwater supply. One of the worst areas of depletion is the area around the “Little Rock House” in Southwest Kansas. This stone house was originally part of a cattle camp established by the author’s great-grandfather. He recalls spending summers there as an adolescent. His father now lives at the house and the author spends two years living with his dad while conducting research for his book. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRe6Oyt5wJGsTbTeiv5xWg-5utJLyZMu5MgDF8Oq5tvK7Sz5U4QzXY1uGEhpbRSltbA3mvjSQ37NI9SFwLUqqqX1DBHwvgQOPSVspwbJcLPlrMRN6sQyXz3CqPkaZ_QR2-dbKTI7rTowg/s2048/Running+Out_Maps_cropped.jpg" style="font-family: -webkit-standard; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1572" data-original-width="2048" height="492" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRe6Oyt5wJGsTbTeiv5xWg-5utJLyZMu5MgDF8Oq5tvK7Sz5U4QzXY1uGEhpbRSltbA3mvjSQ37NI9SFwLUqqqX1DBHwvgQOPSVspwbJcLPlrMRN6sQyXz3CqPkaZ_QR2-dbKTI7rTowg/w640-h492/Running+Out_Maps_cropped.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Maps of the Ogallala Aquifer [left] and the area around the Little Rock House [right],which<br />is located in Southwest Kansas, along the former Cimarron River. . <br />Source: Copied from </i>Running Out<i>.</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">I</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">n the course of his work, the author discovers that, like so many environmental issues, depletion on the High Plains defies easy answers. His research reveals complex personal and political interactions in play that muddy the waters. For example, Bessire attends several meetings of the Groundwater Management District (GMD) Southwest—the board that regulates groundwater use in Southwest Kansas. Almost from the start, something felt odd about the meetings, but he couldn’t quite figure out what it was. He later comes to the realization that the most influential GMD board members represent agribusiness corporations—who are the groundwater users. Furthermore, one has to possess water rights in order to have a vote. In practical terms, this means that the decisions about water use are made by a small number of mostly white men—even though the working-class population most significantly impacted by the depletion of the aquifer is much more diverse. The GMD pursues a policy of <i>controlled depletion</i>, arguing in essence that to do anything else would wreck the local economy and destroy the “rural way of life” on the High Plains. (Similar arguments are commonly used to argue against taking meaningful action to protect the environment.) Bessire observes that:</span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;">“Corporate profits depend on aquifer depletion. In other words, there is a multimillion-dollar corporate interest to prevent regulation and to pump the water until its gone”—<i>Bones</i>, p. 78</span><span style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">J</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">ust like an aquifer is composed of overlapping layers of sediment, the author discovers that depletion is much more complex than he had assumed when he started his research. When he began, he though he knew who was to blame for depletion, but he discovers there’s a whole lot more going on beneath those dry riverbeds than meets the eye. As Bessire says it, “Depletion condenses the most urgent conundrums of our times into a single drama. On the High Plains, it blurs the boundary between the planetary and the personal”—<i>Notes to the Reader</i>, p. xii.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">Along the way, the author comes face-to-face with his own complicity in “running out.” Bessire explains how, as a young adult, he literally “ran out” on the High Plains. He left home to go to college and had and had no plans to come back. And he didn’t—until he returned to research his book. During the time he spends living at the Little Rock House, he and his father rebuild their previously estranged relationship. In fact, his dad becomes a true partner in his research. At the onset the author takes the lead on many of the interviews, but by later in the book his father is clearly taking the lead. In fact, Bessire later realizes that many of the people who agree to be interviewed for the book did so as a favor to their friend Tony.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">The author’s great-grandfather (RW) was among the second wave of white settlers to this region. The wells his great-grandfather dug played a major role in drying up the surface water in the area around the Little Rock House. Bessire comments that, “There are plenty of stories about RW. None are about stewardship. Most suggest that we he was singularly focused on agribusiness. Someone told me that RW thought he could violate the laws of nature and make money doing it.”—<i>Lines</i>, p. 17. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">In contrast to RW, the author is guided by wisdom collected by another of his ancestors, whom he discovers became an early advocate for conservation. In a dusty file cabinet at the Little Rock House, he finds crinkled Manilla file folders and binders containing writings compiled by his grandmother (Lila “Fern”) about a variety of topics. Fern died when the author was 12, so his memories interactions with her are sketchy, enshrouded in the mists of childhood perceptions. However, he distinctly remembers her walking him across the pastures to visit the memorial for the nearby <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wagon_Bed_Spring_(Kansas)">Wagon Bed Springs</a>—which even then existed only in her grandmother’s memories. He later learns that his grandmother played an important role in helping to determine the location of the springs and lobby for the memorial to be created. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">In talking to others about Fern, he learns that she is a kindred spirit. Like him, she was often at odds with her father, and she too “ran out” on the High Plains. The day she turned 18, she left the farm and got married. After World War II, her husband Roy returned “broken” from his experience. Against Fern’s wishes, they returned to the Little Rock House, where she would live out the rest of her days, “stuck in a small prairie world under the thumb of less talented men”—<i>Lines</i>, p. 21. When she was in her mid-thirties, she had what was called a “nervous breakdown” and spent time in two different mental institutions. While Fern didn’t describe that experience in her writings, the author learns a great deal about what his grandmother likely endured from a six-part exposé published in a Wichita newspaper in 1974 by a woman named Betty Wells, who spent eight days at the place where Fern was first sent.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">After returning from her time spent in the institutions, Fern became obsessed with learning about the past and trying to reconstruct it—most notably, her work to document the location of Wagon Bed Springs. Fern’s efforts never led to any published works when she was alive. But she would probably be proud that all these years later, her writings served as an invaluable guide to her grandson’s quest to understand depletion. More than once, he returns to her dog-eared, often hand-written notes to help him figure out the “next step” in his research.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: 12pt; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo1ymg-DZS7EDFiAodD7orGjQGfiIX38HdCoVSaKQOXOArLv68aOWkKG5LFpOkFDcLGyd-l_JcDDmv85tcizG8SmgFqjQAxO4ByfeAW-S-hKCm9ZrRjjWg1dpuwypkG6_Xsrpi-myouRU/s640/Buffalo+2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="440" data-original-width="640" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo1ymg-DZS7EDFiAodD7orGjQGfiIX38HdCoVSaKQOXOArLv68aOWkKG5LFpOkFDcLGyd-l_JcDDmv85tcizG8SmgFqjQAxO4ByfeAW-S-hKCm9ZrRjjWg1dpuwypkG6_Xsrpi-myouRU/s320/Buffalo+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: large;">T</span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">he author also becomes keenly aware of how forces of depletion played a role in making the life he had growing up on the Plains possible. While walking on his father’s farm, he recalls a time as a child when he found a bison bone. This leads him to research the details about the eradication of the Plains buffalo herds. In the span of three years between 1871 and 1874, it is estimated that between three and seven million bison were killed within a hundred-mile radius of the Little Rock House. This mass slaughter had the effect of displacing the Native American populations living in that area that depended on bison for survival, which in turn made it possible for his white ancestors to take possession of the land. He also discovers stories of forced relocation—and even <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sand_Creek_massacre">genocide</a>—of the indigenous populations that once resided on or near the land on which he grew up. Learning the details of these atrocities has a powerful impact on the author’s understanding of depletion. </span><p></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: red; font-size: medium;">He realizes that even though he never killed a buffalo, or mistreated a Native person, or drew a single drop of water from the ground himself, in order for he and his family to live the life of relative privilege they lived on the High Plains these atrocities had to be committed against the native inhabitants of this land—both human and non-human—and the native environment. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="color: red; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">B</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">essire talks about what I will call the <i>slipperiness </i>of memory. On one hand, we rely upon our memories to reconstruct the past. For example, he relied on the stories told to him by numerous people about past events to compile his story. But, on the other hand, he reflects on how we typically have <i>selective amnesia</i> in terms of <i>what</i> we remember and <i>how</i> we remember it. History tends to be told from a particular point of view—often that of the dominant power. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">This certainly was the case in the stories he was told as a child about bison herds and Native peoples. He reflects, that: </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;">“We lived among the rubble of genocide and dispossession in a landscape that had been transformed. Nothing seemed as fascinating as the chips of flint and arrowheads and old bullets and potsherds secreted among the last ribbons of native shortgrass. And nothing seemed as innocent. Only now do I see that their allure was part of displacing the monstrous events that allowed me to inhabit the Plains. We confined the horrors of eradication to a cartoonish lost world; one that we thought was entirely disconnected from our own.” He notes that these things were rarely if ever discussed and even when they were, “their significance was largely blocked off from our memories”—<i>Bones</i>, pp. 129–130.</span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">W</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">hile this book focused primarily on the issue of aquifer depletion on the High Plains, the author summarizes similar stories of depletion that play out all around the world in areas that are heavily dependent of groundwater for survival. The specific circumstances of each location are unique, but there are common<a href="https://earth.org/are-we-running-out-of-water/"> themes of depletion </a>running through all these regions. As Bessire describes it:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;">“Depletion flourishes wherever people inhabit the residues of settler invasions and forgotten genocides, traces of destroyed ecosystems, surges of boom–bust despair and simmering resentment, chemical disruptions, and the specter of more heat and drought. In these zones, similar histories and technologies coincide with scarred landscapes and ideologies of unceasing productivity and profit that easily blur into militant fundamentalism’s when they collapse”—<i>Afterword</i>, pp. 178–179.</span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">A</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">s people of faith, I think engaging stories like <i>Running Out</i> can help us wrestle with our call to be stewards of Earth as we grapple with complex issues related to preserving the increasingly depleted natural resources of our world and protecting its environment. I wonder how many of us might relate to the author’s story. Could we write our own tales of “running out” in our own local context? The author includes a quote that he found in Fern’s notes. While she applied to her personal recovery, it spoke to me about the attitude we need to have toward environmental issues. She said, “The first step in my own reclamation of command is to admit that I am not responsible for the past, but I am accountable to tomorrow”—<i>Dust</i>, p. 133. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">Often when confronted with a complex issue like climate change, we say things like, “I am not responsible for what happened in the past.” And, of course, we’re correct on a personal level, but it strikes me that such a mindset seems to have become our society’s d<i>e facto</i> excuse to maintain the <i>status quo</i> when it comes to the environment. While it’s true that we can’t change—and we’re not responsible for—what has gone on before us, there’s a real sense that we are, as Fern said it, “accountable to tomorrow.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">How will future generations judge us? The jury is still out; although, toward the end of the book, the author muses that, considering what we’ve already done to the world they will inherit, they might not be too kind toward us. The truth is, though, the story is still being written. The future world is not fully formed yet. The decisions we make (or choose not to make) help to shape that world. As Bessire did in the process of researching <i>Running Out</i>, we each have an obligation to reckon with how the life we live contributes to the depletion of resources and/or degradation of our environment. But it’s not enough just to <i>know</i>; we need to find ways to<i> act</i> on what we’ve learned—both individually and corporately. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">With the future of the planet that we call home hanging in the balance, it seems clear that water is not the only nonrenewable resource that is running out; even time itself seems to be slipping through the dusty hourglass. The<a href="https://www.ipcc.ch/assessment-report/ar6/"> latest (sixth) IPCC report </a>reminds us—in the strongest language to date—that the status quo isn’t sustainable. The change we are seeing has an increasingly undeniable human “footprint.” The “band-aid fixes” to date simply aren’t adequate to address the problem of global climate change. Failure to take more meaningful action to move away from such heavy dependence on fossil fuels and to otherwise mitigate the effects of climate change could have disastrous consequences for future generations. When it comes to the issue of climate, we face what Dr. King called the <i>fierce urgency of now.</i> The decisions we make (or refuse to make)<i> today </i>impact the world our children, and their children, inherit. Putting them off for the “next generation” to decide is no longer a viable option. <o:p></o:p></span></p>alanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05413930979508026433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2734996330741612787.post-2737188931655357912021-08-11T16:41:00.005-04:002021-08-11T16:47:24.160-04:00Finding Our Way, Perceiving New Things<p> <span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">Last year during Advent, I wrote a blog post called “<a href="https://bigalscorner.blogspot.com/2020/12/green-volunteers.html">Green Volunteers.</a>"</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">I talked about a fuchsia plant that I had purchased for Mother’s Day 2020, which had faded during the summer (in part due to neglect), but then—remarkably—bloomed again around Thanksgiving.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">I brought it inside to try and carry it through the winter, but the transition to inside didn’t go well.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">I carefully watered it and placed it in a sunny spot hoping it might recover yet again.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">It did…</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCU4hU-g9LEeTIVOLL5gwNRqsGKTtivSo6ZMjI7Qam8UzYsQZ-Sw7btHeQRMgfT3QWWyti7bJW9JXrwfHCAbIDKVdghenGSeezwIffSxVnOdj1YpN3NXSYeUPSHgmaCF8FI_0Y7mb0nXo/s2048/Fuchsia_201209.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1996" data-original-width="2048" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCU4hU-g9LEeTIVOLL5gwNRqsGKTtivSo6ZMjI7Qam8UzYsQZ-Sw7btHeQRMgfT3QWWyti7bJW9JXrwfHCAbIDKVdghenGSeezwIffSxVnOdj1YpN3NXSYeUPSHgmaCF8FI_0Y7mb0nXo/s320/Fuchsia_201209.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><b>December 13, 2020</b></i><br /><i>A "green volunteer" emerges.</i><br /><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;">The picture on the<i> left</i> was taken December 13, 2020. At that time I had written: <i><span face=""Calibri Light", sans-serif">“A green volunteer! A branch growing out of roots! And maybe, just maybe, a new flower bud? It’s an annual, so I have no idea if I can bring it back to flourishing, but it does appear to be growing, so I’m curious to see what happens</span></i><span face=""Calibri Light", sans-serif">…</span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Calibri Light", sans-serif"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">The picture <i>below</i> was taken August 10, 2021. That’s the same plant that was a “green volunteer” eight months ago. I moved it back outside this spring and it has thrived. Seeing it thrive makes me smile. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRQcfjCvZ38JfAoloWdp8g0cx7gag8nHXJQHo49c5vEHxC8HtD_GgxV6X5_-3Na51GEVSdzR9a1LVES6m5xiOgk9uh2M-1CmCR9J_NmaA2UTJZZAk6lDu28mHuc54wDITSvlRKqT9gJpA/s2048/Fuchsia_210810.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRQcfjCvZ38JfAoloWdp8g0cx7gag8nHXJQHo49c5vEHxC8HtD_GgxV6X5_-3Na51GEVSdzR9a1LVES6m5xiOgk9uh2M-1CmCR9J_NmaA2UTJZZAk6lDu28mHuc54wDITSvlRKqT9gJpA/s320/Fuchsia_210810.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><b>August 10, 2021</b></i><br /><i>A "new thing" springs forth.<br />What was barren now blooms.</i><br /><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">In my Advent devotional I wrote: [<i><span face=""Calibri Light", sans-serif">A famous line from the movie “</span></i><span face=""Calibri Light", sans-serif">Jurassic Park” <i>was]: “Life finds a way.” </i></span><i>(In the movie, the dinosaurs found a way to reproduce despite the scientist’s assurance that this was in fact “impossible.”) </i><i><span face=""Calibri Light", sans-serif">Nature bears witness to this. Think about areas ravaged by volcanic eruptions or forest fires. Life comes back in abundance afterwards. In fact, the ash can provide nutrients for new life. Eventually, life wins. </span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Over the past 17 months, we have been in the grips of a global pandemic, and other simultaneous societal upheavals. I have also experienced personal challenges I’ve had to overcome; I’m sure you have too. We’ve all had to “find a way” to, as Paul says, “<i>keep running the race marked out for us.”</i> Some days, that has seemed nearly impossible to do. There just seemed to be too much to take in, too much to overcome. And yet somehow here we are.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">In March 2020, the world changed without much warning, and we had no choice but to “find a way” to adapt. In our church, I think we faced a collective crisis large enough that we actually overcame the inertia of “how we’ve always done it before.” (Some churches have been more successful at doing this than others.) </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Not just in the Church, but across our society, we’ve had to learn new ways to be in community together. While some of us knew about <i>Zoom</i> before COVID, it really wasn’t the norm to use it. There was a learning curve we had to climb; it wasn’t always the easiest ascent, but we did it. Now, virtual meetings are commonplace. People of all ages conduct activities online. While live activities are slowly resuming (the <i>Delta</i> variant notwithstanding) <i>hybrid</i> is clearly the way of the future. Providing online options for participation in live events is no longer optional.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Following the plant analogy, in March 2020 COVID-19 stripped us down to bare minimum. We </span><span style="font-size: large;">had to rapidly transplant ourselves to survive.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">We weren’t sure if the tender shoots would prosper in the new environment. We could plant, and we could water, but it was up to God to make things grow. And that's exactly what God did! </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">Like the</span><span style="font-size: large;"> fuchsia on my deck, 17 months later, flowers are blooming. </span><span style="font-size: large;">COVID-19 is slow to loosen its grip, but where I worship, we are finding our way to a “new normal.” (I suspect the same is true at many other churches.)</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">At my church, we have fellowship groups and Bible studies meeting online throughout the week via Zoom, as well as all of our committee meetings.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">While we surely lose some things by not being together face-to-face, we also gain things conducting certain church activities online.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> For example, w</span><span style="font-size: medium;">e’ve gotten used to doing church committee business from the convenience of our homes.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">The core elements of who we were before March 2020 may not have changed—but the world around us has. Make no mistake, we are emerging into a new day. There is no map to where we are headed; we almost "make the road" as we walk it. We must trust God to be our guide. </span><span style="font-size: large;">“New things” are indeed trying to “spring forth.” and our job is to “perceive them” and embrace them—not resist them. </span><span style="font-size: large;">If the Church is to thrive in the years ahead then we must find ways to meet the world where it is today.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> It becomes increasingly clear that </span><span style="font-size: large;">they are not likely to come to us without a personal invitation. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">FOR REFLECTION<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->What new things do you perceive springing forth in your life today? At your church?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->What new things do you perceive as needed, that might be “trying to be born”? How can you be part of the birthing process? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Where might we need to take a second look for “green volunteers”? </span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->What things can our churches do to help equip us to engage the “new world” around us?</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><br /></p><style class="WebKit-mso-list-quirks-style">
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</style>alanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05413930979508026433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2734996330741612787.post-37564051663136161902021-06-11T09:54:00.001-04:002021-06-11T09:56:46.457-04:00Learning to Swim Again<p><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: large;">I</span> haven’t written much the past couple weeks.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">However, it was World Oceans Day this week, which inspired me to write a poem about my current circumstances. (Today is four months after my wife's open heart surgery and seven weeks after my dad passed away quite unexpectedly.)</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">The lines in <span style="color: red;"><i>red italics</i></span> in the poem below are lyrics from the song </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dy9nwe9_xzw" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">“Oceans” </a><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">by <i>Hillsong United</i>, which is a favorite praise song of mine.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDigS2__JJ-SdRuBdgkz47LX2VBWWN-GApgmgUfqTGWzOee6TVP-dibfdMp-87rGmRhyvms6CsCHZCPx-RtrM9RVZOVTUL0n0HuAN4rtpwtZbx3acdRNivMjdlt6sqTneryK5bPHgwoNE/s1280/waves+on+beach.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDigS2__JJ-SdRuBdgkz47LX2VBWWN-GApgmgUfqTGWzOee6TVP-dibfdMp-87rGmRhyvms6CsCHZCPx-RtrM9RVZOVTUL0n0HuAN4rtpwtZbx3acdRNivMjdlt6sqTneryK5bPHgwoNE/w640-h360/waves+on+beach.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: red;">You call me out upon the water.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: red;">The great unknown.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: red;">Where feet may fail.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: red;">And there I find you in the mystery.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: red;">In ocean’s deep, my faith will stand.</span><o:p></o:p></i></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Sometimes you can anticipate the waves of life.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">You can time them like the rhythm of the surf.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Laurie and I could see the big wave coming when this year began.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">My wife had open heart surgery on February 11.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">We could plan for that.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">We could get ready.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Sort of...<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">But even when you know a big wave is coming.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Even when you brace for it.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">The force of water is deceptively strong.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">If you aren’t well grounded it can knock you over.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">And any bodysurfer knows, the big wave is not the only concern.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">The little waves between the big ones can trip you up.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Like my son’s second sports injury in six months.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Or my daughter’s virtual school struggles.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Or the persistent pull of a prolonged pandemic,<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">That runs like a rip current through the world.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">The harder we swim against it, the further it pulls us from the shore.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">So many creative ways my feet can fail.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">But always the same result:<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">I end up sucking saltwater.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">I grounded myself as best I could to withstand the big wave.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">I thought I held my own.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Around Easter, I remember exhaling a bit.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">I thought I might be headed to calmer seas for a time.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">But then on April 23 the rogue wave came.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">My dad passed away.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Although he was 86—it was unexpected.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">It hit me like a tsunami.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Swamping the beach where I stood.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><b> </b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Suddenly my feet failed.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">I was at the mercy of the waves.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Only faith could ground me.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Would that be enough?<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: red;">And I will call upon your name.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: red;">And keep my eyes above the wave.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: red;">When oceans rise, my soul will rest in your embrace.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: red;">For I am yours, and you are mine.</span><o:p></o:p></i></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">In recent days, it’s been all I can do to stand.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">But then again sometimes just to stand is a mighty act of faith.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">I search for Jesus in the midst of my storm<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">I’m surprised to find him stretched out on a cushion.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">“Jesus!” I cry. “Can’t you see I’m floundering here!?<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">This is no time for a nap!”<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">He sighs, and says simply, “Peace. Be still.”<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">The turbulent sea becomes glassy calm.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">As if very wind and waves obey his voice.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">“Where’s your faith?” the Master of the Universe asks me.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">“Didn’t you know I was with you all along?”<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i> </i></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Times like now call the question of faith for me.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Do I know beyond knowing that He’s with me no matter how turbulent the sea is?<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Do I really believe I’m His and He’s mine?<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Can I truly rest in his embrace?<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i> </i></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: red;">His grace abounds in deepest water.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: red;">His sovereign hand will be my guide.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: red;">When feet may fail and fear surrounds me.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: red;">He’s never failed—and he won’t start now.</span><o:p></o:p></i></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i> </i></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Faith is as simple and as complex as this last stanza.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">You can’t just sing faith, you have to live it.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Faith is most real when the waters are deepest.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Those are the times we can’t swim on our own.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">That’s where I’ve been recently.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Trying to keep my head above the waters.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Trying to live what I sing every Sunday.<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">Learning to swim all over again.<o:p></o:p></p>alanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05413930979508026433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2734996330741612787.post-77990842561078237752021-05-14T15:17:00.001-04:002021-05-14T15:19:03.746-04:00A Serious Call to Sing Our Song<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;">I</span>n my Renovaré Book Club, we’ve been studying William Law’s spiritual classic, <i>A Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life</i>. Reading A <i>Serious Call</i> was a serious commitment for me to make. The other three books the club read this year were written by more modern authors (at least 20<sup>th</sup> century) addressing more practical topics. But this one was first published in 1728 and while the writing has been updated a for modern consumption, the writing style still reflects that time period. There are long run-on sentences I had to read several times to understand. At times, I felt like the same thing was said five different ways within a few pages. At moments when I’m reading, I just want to say, “Okay, William, were you paid by the word? We get it. Move on.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7euJdu2tH_0o8Tgv_zWiBuvR2EC13fJ0gYn3glRhMKZ21Wy4VzOZdopCWYf28H98RoXmGTToJQhnXGNTr6nYfhamavP5Oy8tn8orikkmDZHTyBvC1pTSBfR_WQVbnrYpHk8RQdaipxZk/s499/Serious_Call_cover.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="322" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7euJdu2tH_0o8Tgv_zWiBuvR2EC13fJ0gYn3glRhMKZ21Wy4VzOZdopCWYf28H98RoXmGTToJQhnXGNTr6nYfhamavP5Oy8tn8orikkmDZHTyBvC1pTSBfR_WQVbnrYpHk8RQdaipxZk/s320/Serious_Call_cover.jpg" /></a></div>Although I hesitated at the start, and despite its somewhat archaic writing style, I’ve enjoyed reading <i>A Serious Call</i>. I begin to see why the book is considered a “classic,” having influenced the formation of John and Charles Wesley, George Whitfield, John Newton, and William Wilberforce, among others. While Law and I certainly part company theologically at moments (e.g., his overemphasis on works-righteousness and rigid, legalistic descriptions of practices), having now read through a good chunk of the book, I now begin to see that Law had a method to his madness. He was trying to get the attention of the people of his time, many of whom had become lukewarm in their pursuit of holiness and needed a wake-up call. He wanted to remind his readers that the Christian life isn’t a passive endeavor. As the title of the book implies, the choice to follow Jesus is not to be taken lightly. It’s a “serious call” that is worthy of our best effort to pursue growth in holiness and devotion. While we never can do enough to <i>earn </i>our salvation, we always need to put forth maximum effort in pursuit of it. <o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;">L</span>aw’s choice of writing style was most likely quite intentional. He used the age-old writing technique of hyperbole to emphasize the urgency of the subject matter he discusses. He intended to provoke his readers to take action—now—to grow in holiness. I think the book is a classic precisely because, if we can get past the somewhat archaic wording, his words have the potential to issue the same “serious call,” and provoke the same reaction in us today.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Paul counsels the Philippians to: <i>work out your own salvation with fear and trembling</i>—<b>Philippians 2:12</b>. It strikes me that the word <i>workout</i> is used in today’s vernacular to describe physical exercise. We expect to exert effort in this context; sometimes we use the adage, “no pain, no gain.” We expect to sweat when we work out our bodies. But what about <i>spiritual workouts</i>? Do we expect them to be similarly strenuous? Or do we expect spiritual growth to just happen with minimal effort on our part? <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Law, I think, would think it as absurd to suggest that spiritual growth can happen without serious—and ongoing—effort on our part, as it would be to think we can improve our physical body without a commitment to getting sweaty on a regular basis. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">The theme that carries throughout <i>A Serious Call </i>is that God does much more than merely forgive our disobedience, God also calls us to obedience and to a life completely centered in God. That implies a lifetime of maximum effort on our part to grow as a follower of Jesus. If we do our part, however, then we can trust God to do the part that only God can do. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Law himself says it this way: “If you will here stop and ask yourself why you are not as pious as the primitive Christians were, your own heart will tell you that it is neither through ignorance or inability, but because you never thoroughly intended it.” <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Law resonates with Dallas Willard and other authors and theologians throughout history who have emphasized the vital role of <i>intention</i> (making up our mind to do something—and to make it a priority) in linking our <i>vision</i> of doing something we cannot presently do with the acquiring the <i>means</i> to pursue it. Dallas Willard used the clever acronym V–I–M: Vision–Intention—Means—which reminds us of<i> vim</i> and <i>vigor</i>, which is used to describe something alive and thriving; another related v-word is <i>vitality</i>. We can think of intention as the bridge to a thriving spiritual life. Intention links vision to reality via various means of grace or spiritual practices. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 9pt;">Willard echoed Law when he said in one of his books: “Grace is not opposed to effort, it is opposed to earning. Earning is an attitude. Effort is an action. Grace, you know, does not just have to do with forgiveness of sins alone.” <o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<o:p></o:p></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;">O</span>ne technique Law uses that is rather clever is the use of what I might call “case studies.” Throughout the book, he introduces us to individuals who embody the traits (whether positive or negative) that he’s been emphasizing in that chapter. For example, in Chapters 7 and 8, Law discusses the proper use of one’s estate to serve God. To illustrate his points, Law contrasts the lives of two sisters: Flavia and Miranda, whose parents died twenty years ago and left them a substantial estate. Flavia talks a good game when it comes to religion, but her actions don’t match her words. She chooses to primarily spend her wealth on herself, giving to others only what she has “left over” or when it benefits her to do so. Miranda, on the other hand, walks the talk. She keeps only what she needs for herself and gives the rest of her wealth away to the poor and to charity. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 9pt;">Via these case studies, abstract theological concepts like those Law discusses in <i>A Serious Call </i>take on flesh and blood. I have no idea if Law based Flavia and Miranda, or the others we meet in <i>A Serious Call</i>, on people he knew from his life in 18<sup>th</sup> century England. Whether the people are “real” or merely meant to serve as archetypes, I think it’s fair to say when we meet them we quickly “recognize” them. That is, we’ve seen the traits in ourselves and/or in others we know. They resonate with us because, adjusting for our 21<sup>st</sup>century context—they <i>are </i>us. <o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<o:p></o:p></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;">A</span>fter laying the groundwork of his overall thesis in the first part of the book, Law gets into more specifics about the particulars of different spiritual practices like prayer, worship, and fasting that can help us deepen our relationship with God. He gets quite exact (perhaps too exact for my taste at moments) about what he recommends as the <i>orthodox </i>(proper) way to do things. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">For example, in Chapter 15, Law suggests that a key to entering into worship is singing psalms to God. He almost immediately anticipates that some readers will object by saying that they “can’t sing.” Choir leaders, does this sound familiar? But Law isn’t buying it. He argues that no one is exempt from the call to sing psalms. Now, that doesn’t mean we’re all called to lead public singing. Law recognizes that some people have special gifts and training in that area and are ideal candidates to lead public singing, while others (like me) are not—even though I try it occasionally <span style="font-family: Wingdings;"></span>. But as Law says it: “All things considered, it is fully as just for a person to think himself excused from thinking upon God, from reasoning about his duty to God, or discoursing about the means of salvation because he has not these talents in any great degree, as for a person to think himself excused from singing the praises of God because he has not a fine ear or a musical voice.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">This chapter really resonated with me because the situation we face right now as we begin to emerge from the COVID-19 pandemic and reengage public worship. When we consider all the things COVID-19 has deprived us of over the last year, we could list many things that we’ve lost. However, when it comes to public worship, I suspect singing may rank high on many people’s list. At my church (Good Shepherd), we resumed public worship beginning on Easter Sunday, but we’re still advising against singing for the time being. For some, I’m sure this seems like sacrilege. How can we possibly worship God if we can’t sing?! I get it; sometimes I feel that way too. It’s such a part of our Methodist DNA to sing our praises to God. What would Charles Wesley say? Who are we without the ability to sing our songs? <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">It’s been an interesting experience for me the past few Sundays as we’ve returned to worshipping in person—but been asked to refrain from singing. I’m so used to using my voice to sing—and I may need to confess to singing softly under my mask at times. However, God has also reminded that I have other senses that I can engage during worship. I’m realizing that even though my voice is muted temporarily, the Song goes on. The Song can ring in my heart while someone else leads the public singing. If the words are on the screen, I can be intentional about <i>engaging my mind</i> to focus on them. I can’t always do that when I’m singing with the Praise Team or even when I sing out loud during worship. I’ve probably gotten overfamiliar with some songs, meaning that I just rattle them from memory without thinking about the words. I might even sing the wrong words by rote—because I’ve forgotten what the lyrics actually say.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlzEVatJfuH8U6JKRl_klA8ayG0g5KTkChOmNX4B6Pi8Esxm1X9ZaC68cKgivS5acL6QRZec5N8-puUTZtMcPWq8PdNzK9dpzeSlPJOzB-WVmDivVOig-JuTCmgLH2inyF1wWh7swRTXA/s2048/Holy_Week_Windows.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlzEVatJfuH8U6JKRl_klA8ayG0g5KTkChOmNX4B6Pi8Esxm1X9ZaC68cKgivS5acL6QRZec5N8-puUTZtMcPWq8PdNzK9dpzeSlPJOzB-WVmDivVOig-JuTCmgLH2inyF1wWh7swRTXA/s320/Holy_Week_Windows.jpg" /></a></div><br /></div><o:p> </o:p><o:p></o:p><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: large;">A</span>t other times the last few weeks, I’ve also found myself </span><i style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">engaging my eyes</i><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">, looking up at the beautiful colored glass windows that adorn our sanctuary while our song leader sings. The windows, if you will, surround us with our Song. Have you ever taken time to notice? The <a href="https://bigalscorner.blogspot.com/2019/04/viewing-easter-through-holy-weeks.html">windows create a panorama</a>, a compelling </span><i style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">visio divina</i><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> that starts in the rear of the right side of the church (looking forward) with Creation and other stories in Genesis depicted. It continues forward clockwise with other Old Testament stories depicted. It then moves into the New Testament and beyond, depicting the life of Jesus, the start of the Church, the start of the United Methodist Church, and the founding and building of Good Shepherd. The final panel looks toward the future consummation of all things when Jesus returns to judge the world. (There’s also a large Good Shepherd window in the center, above the altar.)</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;">T</span>here’s also another source of beauty that God has reminded me of recently during worship. I see it when I pay close attention to the expressions on the faces of others—yes, even when they are masked. The <i>Communion of Saints</i> is always present when we worship, but it’s easy to get caught up in ourselves during worship and never notice. Whenever we enter the Presence of God, who is eternal, the veil between past, present thins and there’s an opportunity to get a glimpse of how God always sees things. Perhaps because my voice must be suppressed, our post-pandemic worship gatherings have heightened my awareness of this reality. I suspect I am particularly sensitive to the saints right now because my dad passed away recently. I’ve felt his presence at times the last couple of weeks, as well as that of my daughter Hope, and my grandmother. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">So, no, we can’t sing in the way we’re used to right now at Good Shepherd, and there’s no denying that I miss that—and look forward to the day we can. However, in the meantime, I’m finding other ways to for the Song to go on within me—and I hope you are too. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">I think of the praise song lyric,</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><i style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">“When the music fades, and<b> all</b> is stripped away”—</i><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">even our voices—then what’s left?</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">Can we still find ways to sing our Song?</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">I think Law would say that, just like any other thing we do in life, worship and the pursuit of God is always worthy of our best effort, and sometimes that will require “thinking outside the box.”</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">My guess is that if he was alive today, during COVID, Law would encourage us to get creative in figuring out new ways to continue our serious pursuit of a devout and holy life, so that we can continue to grow in grace and reach as many as possible with God’s love.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span> </p>alanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05413930979508026433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2734996330741612787.post-41317493253239141252021-04-21T19:05:00.002-04:002021-04-22T16:49:18.759-04:00Earth Day 2021: Embarking on the "Green Way"<p><span style="color: red;"> <span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>April 22 is Earth Day...</b></span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span></span></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkecmC6pYtXgm4v2-eoVtoeLTLiUKdzUkCy7pBVAiFV1pUW6Cvy_OjROZ9XyjpS20AJvvU0Fz9kYefQues2NzUNgdIfBXecpSq-nxGgUWpn5v4psxtlmmU9H5Zb0SVe51i66ujTcRQaOk/s1041/apollo08_earthrise_NASA.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1041" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkecmC6pYtXgm4v2-eoVtoeLTLiUKdzUkCy7pBVAiFV1pUW6Cvy_OjROZ9XyjpS20AJvvU0Fz9kYefQues2NzUNgdIfBXecpSq-nxGgUWpn5v4psxtlmmU9H5Zb0SVe51i66ujTcRQaOk/s320/apollo08_earthrise_NASA.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Earth, from a lunar point of view.</i><br /><b>Source</b>: <a href="https://www.nasa.gov/image-feature/apollo-8-earthrise" target="_blank">NASA's Apollo 8 mission</a></td></tr></tbody></table><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: large;">W</span>e set this day</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> aside each year to intentionally focus on our home planet.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">An impetus for the first Earth Day (in 1970) was the famous <i>Earthrise</i> photo taken by Astronauts onboard Apollo 8 in 1968. This was one of the first times that human beings could look back on the great <i>blue marble </i>we call home and see clouds floating in a thin veil of atmosphere set against harsh blackness of outer space. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Seeing Earth from a lunar point of view seemed to increase our awareness just how fragile the Earth was. The image captured our collective imagination as a society. It opened our eyes to see the state of the world as it was—and then to employ our best efforts to make it better. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Not long after that first Earth Day, we created the Environmental Protection Agency. We enacted Federal legislation to protect the air we breathe, the water we drink, and endangered species, and to clean up hazardous waste sites. In the ensuing decades, we’ve realized that the Earth’s resources are not infinite and that we have a responsibility to future generations to preserve the natural world. Thanks to Earth observing satellites, we’ve learned much more about the condition of the planet we call home. We’ve been reckoning with the environmental impacts of rising concentrations of carbon dioxide (primarily from burning fossil fuels to fuel our industrialized economy) as well as declining concentrations of stratospheric ozone (from the use of products containing chlorofluorocarbons, or CFCs).<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCMiq5nMvyBBTuy13S4OIW9daYoNv4uZ50okb-Ug_ZwzaC_Ad6G78osKn9dE0GwDXLELjS6Zxkr9758PEiUokPPGcUgfPIG7wKTc7ZgOhfIFxcFwnSuBDlTTXG6b3N0-00VhiVNZpXIzE/s992/COVID+AQ+improvement_northeast.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="992" data-original-width="868" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCMiq5nMvyBBTuy13S4OIW9daYoNv4uZ50okb-Ug_ZwzaC_Ad6G78osKn9dE0GwDXLELjS6Zxkr9758PEiUokPPGcUgfPIG7wKTc7ZgOhfIFxcFwnSuBDlTTXG6b3N0-00VhiVNZpXIzE/s320/COVID+AQ+improvement_northeast.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Air quality over the Northeast U.S. improved<br />during COVID compared to other years.</i><br /><b>Source</b>: <a href="https://www.nasa.gov/feature/goddard/2020/drop-in-air-pollution-over-northeast" target="_blank">NASA's Aura mission</a></td></tr></tbody></table>In the last year, we got a glimpse of what a renewed world might look like. At the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, with much of the normal automobile and pedestrian traffic removed, the air and water quality in many major cities around the world improved significantly. You could literally see the change in air pollution from space. Packs of animals were even seen roaming on some major roads. These examples remind us how quickly nature can repair itself when human activity is reduced—even for a short time. <p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">The pandemic also gave us another glimpse of our future. In March 2020, as COVID-19 was spreading like wildfire around the world and indefinite lockdowns were mandated, we had no choice but to move many activities that we've traditionally conducted primarily in person to online. (While this shift had started to happen before COVID for some activities, the pandemic accelerated it to warp speed.) Work, school, faith communities, sports, and entertainment—all of these had to make a quick shift from "business as usual." And although there was certainly a steep learning curve for some, for the most part we've done it remarkably efficiently and effectively. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">And now that we've gotten used to conducting so much more of our lives online, it's unlikely we're going back—at least not entirely. This shift to interacting with one another in the virtual world, made out of necessity at first, is here to stay. Social gatherings in the post-pandemic world that is starting to emerge will need to evolve to accommodate a<i> hybrid </i>of in person and virtual participants on a regular basis. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">Is this glimpse of a renewed Earth just a </span><i style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">blip</i></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;"> in time, or is it a preview of things to come? if society can pivot quickly to embrace new "normals" during a pandemic, can we also do it in response to the climate crisis?</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i>*************************<o:p></o:p></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;">I</span> think our 21<sup>st</sup> century conundrum regarding our response to climate change has something in common with how those disciples on the Emmaus road responded when they encountered the Risen Lord (<b>Luke 24:13–35</b>). <i>The Resurrection</i> (<b>John 11:25</b>) literally came and walked beside them. However, trapped in the gloom and grief of their current reality, they could not see. Once they shifted their perspective to imagine a new possibility—one that includes the reality of resurrection—then they could “see” who had been walking with them all along. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">To be fair, it’s hard to blame the disciples for their lack of imagination. Rome was the <i>dominant power</i> of their day. When Rome executed someone, they were “really most sincerely dead.” The <i>Roman Narrative </i>defined the way things were for most ordinary citizens of the Empire.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Then along comes Jesus, proclaiming an alternative <i>Kingdom (of God) Narrative</i>. Ordinary people are attracted to this counter-Imperial message. The men walking the Road to Emmaus had been followers of Jesus. They believed Jesus was the <i>Messiah</i>—the “liberating king” that the Jewish people so long anticipated would save them from the dominant power of the day. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">When Jesus went to Jerusalem during what we know as “Holy Week” his followers thought this was when he would finally take action against Rome. He did act—just not at all in the way they expected. Never in their wildest imagination did they expect their “Messiah” to die. Frankly, it was a major disappointment. As of Good Friday evening, it looks like the little movement Jesus started has failed utterly. Jesus appears to have joined countless other false Messiahs crushed under the heel of the Empire. On Holy Saturday it sure seems the Roman Narrative is the only one that matters. Thus, when they walk that road on Sunday, they are in a state of despair.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Given that context, we can imagine why the men are skeptical of the women’s incredible claim that when they visited the tomb on Sunday morning, they found it <i>empty!</i> Albeit from a safe distance, they’d watched their Master die. They<i> knew</i> that no one comes back from the dead—and most certainly not from a Roman crucifixion. Even though Jesus repeatedly told them to expect exactly what happened, they are completely absorbed in the Roman Narrative and not yet able to grasp what was happening.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">As Luke tells the story, we encounter these two downcast disciples as they walk the Road to Emmaus, trudging along toward an uncertain future. At some point the Risen Lord joins them on their walk—but they don’t recognize him. The mysterious stranger strikes up a conversation as they walk, getting them to recount the horrible circumstances of the last 36 hours. The traveler seems to know the Scriptures. He explains that what happened is precisely what the Prophets predicted would happen. The disciples stop to camp for the night. At first Jesus seems to be continuing along the road, but the two disciples “convince” him to stay with them.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">And that’s when the shift happens. There was something about entering in, breaking bread together—seeing Jesus up close—that broke through the gloomy fog of the Roman Narrative. Suddenly resurrection was no longer just an abstract idea—the Resurrection was eating dinner with them. Something totally new was set free—and Rome could not stop it. Suddenly, it dawned on them that the Kingdom Narrative was rewriting the whole story! <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i>*************************<o:p></o:p></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;"><b>Now, if resurrection of one man sometimes seems impossible to believe, how much more does <i>resurrecting</i>—of, if you prefer,<i> transforming</i>—the Earth seem hard for our society to fathom?</b></span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Climate change is a complex and nuanced issue that defies an easy solution. However, even the deepest skeptic finds it increasingly hard to deny that such change is happening—and that it bears a distinctive human footprint. Climate change is inexorably linked to other complicated issues like racial injustice and economic inequality. We can’t truly address <i>one</i> of these issues without addressing<i> all</i> of them. Given all of this, it’s easy to assume there’s nothing you and I can really do to make a difference. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">This attitude comes in part because, just as the disciples lived under a dominant <i>Roman Narrative, </i>our society lives under the influence of a dominant <i>Exploitation Narrative</i>. Even though we often don’t give it a second though as we go about our daily lives, entire economies—and Christian doctrines (e.g., the Doctrine of Discovery)—have been set up to justify our <span style="color: #2b00fe;"><i>[1]</i></span> <i>exploitation </i>of Earth’s natural and human resources. Fossil fuel extraction (e.g., oil, natural gas, coal) has provided a convenient means to fuel the fires of our relentless engine of progress. But we’re now starting to realize that these resources have limits—and that the unregulated burning of fossil fuels has caused harm to our environment. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><b> </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><b>Still, a world immersed in an Exploitation Narrative struggles to imagine alternative possibilities to fossil fuels. </b> In the same way the women’s initial claims of resurrection were dismissed as impossible by the skeptical men, those who have the audacity to suggest an alternative <i>Sustainable Narrative</i> (e.g., the “Green New Deal”) are called “crazy dreamers” who are out of touch with reality. We probably react that way because we fear the changes suggested would wreck the economy as we know it, or otherwise disrupt our lives beyond what we consider convenient. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Perhaps, like those disciples on the Road to Emmaus, the time has come for us to look a little closer at what might be possible. The Exploitation Narrative is failing us; the status quo simply isn’t sustainable for planet Earth. The evidence is all around us for those that have eyes that choose to see. Though the situation is grave, there is reason for hope if we can shift our perspective and embrace a new Sustainable Narrative. This new “Green Way” (which I think is what Joe Biden would have the U.S. follow) would allow us to take meaningful action to protect the environment while still maintaining a robust <i>economy</i>—but we would do it in ways that are <i>ethical</i> to all people and <i>ecologically</i> just to all of God’s Creation . <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;"><b>In much the same way the Apollo Program’s audacious goal of landing on the Moon by the “end of the decade” galvanized the best creative energy and collective imagination of the U.S. in the 1960s, intentionally embarking upon a “Green Way” in the 2020s could harness our world’s intellectual and imaginative power to decisively respond to the existential threat posed by climate change.</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i>*************************</i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;">R</span>esurrecting the world would require a shift in our collective thinking. What we did during the pandemic would need to be done on an even bigger scale to respond to climate change. We’d have to make an intentional choice to defect from the dominant Exploitation Narrative to embrace a new Sustainable Narrative and embark upon the “Green Way” discussed in this essay. This “Green Way” I’m envisioning can’t be accomplished via a massive top-down government initiative alone. I think it will emerge more like a Clematis vine, composed of many strands of individual and small group environmental efforts around the world coming together to create a lattice of green that transforms the world and resurrects the environment. (In this analogy larger government climate initiatives can serve as a <i>trellis</i> to help direct the growth of the vine.) <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Each of us will have to do our part to forge this new “Green Way.” For example, last December I was commissioned as a Global Ministries <i>EarthKeeper</i> through the United Methodist Church. A group of us met via <i>Zoom </i>and learned about the interface of issues related to the environment and climate with issues of racial and economic justice. As part of the training, each student chose a project to work on so that we could carry what we’ve learned back into our communities. My goal is to eventually compile an <i>EarthKeeper Compendium</i> to chronicle our activities. I also hope to raise awareness of these issues where I live. I would like to see a “Green Team” at my church to think about how our faith community can respond to the climate crisis. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7NsvI01nICEt6jRONY1lYH1_Hn-LoklmweZvlOjCkzIYz5hEHAXsgboBhpL07EJpBBspuEAP972udvtv7WI1TfqEEP_kC_sKoIv6DNGpniVHB40asUH4P9cmYl4Zs2vWM2kNzmaKWlHU/s2048/Clematis+Vine.HEIC" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7NsvI01nICEt6jRONY1lYH1_Hn-LoklmweZvlOjCkzIYz5hEHAXsgboBhpL07EJpBBspuEAP972udvtv7WI1TfqEEP_kC_sKoIv6DNGpniVHB40asUH4P9cmYl4Zs2vWM2kNzmaKWlHU/w240-h320/Clematis+Vine.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Clematis vine climbs a trellis in my backyard.</i><br /><b>Source</b>: Photo by Alan Ward</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;">Maybe you’d like to <a href="https://creationcare.umcmission.org/networks/events/51882" target="_blank">become an EarthKeeper</a>? The program is always looking to expand. But even if you don’t pursue formal training as I did, you can still do your part. You can work to "resurrect" your own corner of creation. You can reduce, reuse, and recycle. You can clean a stream or a roadside in your neighborhood. You can work to reduce your <i>carbon footprint</i>. You can purchase your food from local sources. You can become more aware of your own habits of consumption—and then take intentional action to change them. You can apply your imagination and creativity and add to this list something that fits the unique circumstances of your local environment.</span> <p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">The world that our children and grandchildren will inherit is counting on each of us to do our part to make it a better place. It won’t just happen. We must act decisively—now. We must come together for the common good of our common home. I hope you’ll use Earth Day 2021 as an opportunity to ponder to how your Creator is calling<i> you</i> to embark on the “Green Way.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><div><hr align="left" size="1" width="33%" /><div id="ftn1"><p class="MsoFootnoteText" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><i>[1]</i></span> Historically, <i>our</i> has mostly meant white males. <o:p></o:p></p></div></div>alanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05413930979508026433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2734996330741612787.post-22256381320919340152021-04-08T15:47:00.000-04:002021-04-08T15:47:42.855-04:00Never Underestimate the Gardener<p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: medium;"> <i style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><sup><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">11</span></sup></i><i style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; <sup>12</sup>and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. <sup>13</sup>They said to her, ‘Woman, why are you weeping?’ She said to them, ‘They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.’ <sup>14</sup>When she had said this, she turned round and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. <sup>15</sup>Jesus said to her, ‘Woman, why are you weeping? For whom are you looking?’ Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, ‘Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.’ <sup>16</sup>Jesus said to her, ‘Mary!’ She turned and said to him in Hebrew, ‘Rabbouni!’ (which means Teacher)</span></i><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">—<b>John 20:11–16.</b></span></span></p><style class="WebKit-mso-list-quirks-style">
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</style><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">T</span><span style="font-size: medium;">hese verses are from John’s account of the disciple’s discovery of the resurrection of Jesus—<b>John 20:1–18—</b>which has similar elements to but stands apart from the accounts in the <span><a href="https://bigalscorner.blogspot.com/2021/04/the-synoptic-gospels-three-uniquely.html">Synoptic Gospels</a></span>. In John’s account Mary Magdalene saw the stone rolled away from the tomb (<b>John 20:1–2</b>) and ran off to tell Peter and John. Mary, Peter, and John then return to the tomb together. The men go inside to further investigate for themselves and find it empty (<b>John 20:3–10</b>). Meanwhile, Mary stands in the garden just outside the tomb, weeping. There, according to John, the Risen Lord makes his first post-resurrection appearance to Mary. We're also told that when Mary first sees Jesus, she doesn't recognize him. She somewhat dismissively, <i>“supposes him to be the gardener.” </i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><i> </i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">I think we tend to overlook this last detail as unimportant. We assume that Mary, distraught with grief, is not able to identify the familiar friend standing in front of her. And maybe it was as simple as that? Considering what she has just lived through, such confusion would be understandable. After all, the last time she saw Jesus was 36 hours ago, when she watched in horror as he was crucified on a Roman cross. His lifeless body was then laid in the nearby tomb on Friday evening until the Sabbath had passed. When she set out before dawn on that Sunday morning, she was going there to give her “rabbouni” a proper burial. She never expected to find the stone rolled away—much less meet someone walking in the garden at that hour!<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">But could her mistake be understandable on a much more practical level? Like any good storyteller, most of the details John gives us are quite intentionally placed in the narrative. So, if it’s there, we probably should consider why John chose to include it. If Jesus, the teacher—and the Second Person of the Trinity—can so easily be mistaken for a gardener, we might be wise to consider why that should matter to people reading these words over two millennia later. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">The choice to have Mary’s encounter with the Risen Lord occur in a garden should harken us back to the original stories of the first encounters between the Creator and his creation in <b>Genesis 2</b>. The setting there is the paradisical Garden of Eden. John presents Jesus as a new Adam, who offers new hope to restore the human race and all of creation to right relationship with the Creator. Seen in that light, Mary’s first perception of Jesus wasn’t entirely wrong. He really is “the Gardener” (or Caretaker) of the New Creation, which begins with his resurrection—the seemingly impossible conquest of Death itself. The implication John makes is clear: where Adam fell short, Jesus Christ will succeed. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-align: center;"><o:p> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">I</span><span style="font-size: medium;">’ve been rereading the<i> Lord of the Rings </i>during Lent. One of my favorite characters in the trilogy is Samwise Gamgee, who, at the beginning of the book, identifies as "just a gardener." In the idyllic world of the Shire that was pretty much who Sam was. Although he was Frodo’s friend—it was always in servant–master relationship, evidenced by Sam’s always referring to his friend as “Mr. Frodo.” Sam is comic relief at the beginning, eavesdropping on the conversation between Gandalf and Frodo that sets the whole Quest to return the Ring of Power to Mount Doom to destroy it in motion. He is a rather reluctant participant in the Fellowship of the Ring. But if Mr, Frodo has to go on this epic journey there's no way Sam was going to stay behind! Wherever Frodo goes, his loyal friend Sam will not be far behind. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;"><b>Sam travels all the way <i>there</i>—to the crack of Mount Doom—<i>and back again </i>with his dear friend Frodo.</b></span><span style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">Humble Sam "the gardener" from the Shire undergoes tremendous growth over the course of the three novels—probably the most of any member of the Fellowship. By the time he returns to the his home after Ring is destroyed, Sam is a completely different person than when he left a bit over a year ago. People who knew him well hardly recognize hm when he returns to help "scour" the Shire from the disgraced Saurumon's (a.k.a., "Sharkey") despotic rule. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhK3emzzaMQgiJ9Z1lVaXGdg3d0YmYO-rLjzfdx7AsfRck1iC0TGnNwc2hjKFsN5h2gtQhJStKXNUDo1-IB_634desTWLkaMTyN7N6TSkYeEC1BykkHOl67YpvWgnHIMEAg36oq9qdfSk/s1000/samwise+the+brave.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="530" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhK3emzzaMQgiJ9Z1lVaXGdg3d0YmYO-rLjzfdx7AsfRck1iC0TGnNwc2hjKFsN5h2gtQhJStKXNUDo1-IB_634desTWLkaMTyN7N6TSkYeEC1BykkHOl67YpvWgnHIMEAg36oq9qdfSk/s320/samwise+the+brave.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></div><b><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;">By the end of the trilogy, for Frodo—or anyone else—to suppose Sam be "just a gardener" would be an error of the same magnitude that it was for Mary Magdalene to make that assumption about the Risen Lord. </span><o:p></o:p></b><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">E</span><span style="font-size: medium;">ven If you aren’t that familiar with <i>Lord of the Rings</i>, you probably know Frodo Baggins is the star of trilogy. He’s the Ring Bearer, the one given the Quest to take the One Ring of Power that the evil Sauron created to the only place in Middle Earth where it can be destroyed. Only Frodo can complete that task; Sam can’t take that burden from him, no matter how much he wishes he could. But Sam is content to follow Frodo faithfully, to “carry him” when he needs help to keep going. At one point near the end of the trilogy, Sam literally carries Frodo up the treacherous slopes of Mount Doom so that his Master can finish his quest. In that moment he embodies what Jesus said in the Upper Room: “<i>No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends”</i>—<b>John 15:13</b>. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: red;"><b>It struck me more than once as I reread the climactic scenes of the “Return of the King” during Holy Week that what Peter arrogantly promised Jesus he <i>would</i> do is precisely what humble Sam actually <i>did</i> do for Frodo. The consummate disciple, Sam may waiver but he never betrays, denies, or abandons Frodo. </b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-align: center;"><o:p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">A</span><span style="font-size: medium;">ccording to John, Mary initially thinks the Risen Jesus is <i>just</i> the gardener. Likewise, Tolkien intends for us to underestimate Sam when we meet him. However, in both narratives we soon learn that, if our eyes are open, these gardeners have much to teach us. Like Jesus, Sam exemplifies many virtuous traits: e.g., sacrifice, humility, courage, inner strength. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">Perhaps the lesson we learn from these two examples is that it is a mistake to assume that “simple folk” (e.g., Hobbits and Jewish carpenters) have no wisdom to impart. Also consider that those who spend lots of time with their hands in the soil may <a href="https://bigalscorner.blogspot.com/2020/12/green-volunteers.html"><i>know</i> Creation </a>in ways that it would benefit us all to learn—<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/2734996330741612787/6813322065179717987">important wisdom </a>as our world faces a <a href="https://bigalscorner.blogspot.com/2020/04/the-earth-exposed.html">climate crisis</a> and as we begin to <a href="https://bigalscorner.blogspot.com/2020/04/what-do-we-do-with-time-in-tomb.html">emerge from a pandemic</a>. After all, we <b>never </b>know what form the Risen Christ will take. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><div style="border: 1pt solid windowtext; padding: 1pt 4pt;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; padding: 0in;"><b>FOR REFLECTION<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; padding: 0in;"><b><br /></b></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="border: none; margin-left: 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-padding-alt: 1.0pt 4.0pt 1.0pt 4.0pt; padding: 0in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Have you ever formed a first impression of someone or perhaps dismissed someone as not having much to teach you—and then later learned you were wrong? What did you learn from that experience? <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="border: none; margin-left: 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-padding-alt: 1.0pt 4.0pt 1.0pt 4.0pt; padding: 0in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="border: none; margin-left: 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-padding-alt: 1.0pt 4.0pt 1.0pt 4.0pt; padding: 0in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Is there a Sam in your life? Is there someone who can’t carry your burden for you but has helped carry you through a dark time in your life? Are you Sam for someone else?<o:p></o:p></p></div>alanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05413930979508026433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2734996330741612787.post-40860700594322096152021-04-08T15:36:00.000-04:002021-04-08T15:36:29.462-04:00The Synoptic Gospels: Three Uniquely Similar Resurrection Accounts<p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">The Gospels of Mark, Luke, and Matthew are referred to as the <i>Synoptic Gospels</i>.<span> </span>Each writer tells their own story of the life of Jesus and its significance.<span> </span>The stories contained in these three Gospels are <i>similar</i>—or <i>synoptic</i>.<span> </span>They likely draw from similar ancient source material.<span> </span>For example, Luke and Matthew both probably used Mark’s Gospel as one of their sources.<span> </span>However, it’s pretty obvious as we read them that the three stories are far from <i>identical</i>.<span> </span>Each author wrote his story for a different first century audience and thus decided to emphasize different details that would have mattered to that audience.<span> </span>We combine these to get a fuller picture of who Jesus was—and why his life matters to us living 2000+ years later.<span> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: medium; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji8LFOrUoXs9VcF7XcnqBKXyLqbUOxkza-QrecPhjvF6sTCEjMGUfNygJyMR97aTo0Ltsla70DIdAsE1cmXSHUVaokJS8AKWKv-pahACGsNR3p_vhMS6pqfKrXt9dHP7Rc6qNhTHIWB9I/s640/empty+tomb_looking+out.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji8LFOrUoXs9VcF7XcnqBKXyLqbUOxkza-QrecPhjvF6sTCEjMGUfNygJyMR97aTo0Ltsla70DIdAsE1cmXSHUVaokJS8AKWKv-pahACGsNR3p_vhMS6pqfKrXt9dHP7Rc6qNhTHIWB9I/s320/empty+tomb_looking+out.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;">For example, in the Easter season, we often combine the stories to form a picture of the discovery of the empty tomb and of Jesus’s post-resurrection appearances to his disciples. (We do the same thing at Christmas with the birth narratives in Luke and Matthew.) But sometimes it’s interesting to consider each story on its own merit and see how they differ—not so we can pick apart discrepancies to disprove the factuality of the events describes—but to appreciate the nuanced beauty of the individual storyteller’s accounts of the life of Jesus. </span><span style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">What I’ve done below is to give a quick take on the resurrection stories in each of the Synoptics.<span> </span>I started with Mark, since it is widely agreed to be the “original” story of Jesus, and then proceeded to Luke and Matthew—since they both drew from Mark’s story and essentially follow his outline.<span> </span>I did this quick exercise on my deck on a Wednesday afternoon so it’s hardly a rigorous academic review.<span> </span>Nevertheless it underscored some details about the individual Easter stories that I never noticed before.<span> </span>Although these tales are indeed similar and describe the same event—and the overall plot is one I know well—each individual account has unique details that are worth taking time to appreciate.<span> </span>I hope you find it helpful as well—<b>ABW</b>.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><b>Mark 16:1–8</b> <b>(9–19</b>,<b> </b><i>added later</i>).<span> </span>Start with Mark’s story, since this is the earliest account. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->The original ending of Mark leaves the reader with a mystery.<span> </span><i>The woman run off seized by both terror and amazement</i> (see <i>verse 8</i>).<span> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->And our human nature is to ask: <b>But what happened next?!</b><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->As if readers couldn’t live with an “open-ending” of such an important story, at some point someone (or maybe a group of people) decided to “finish” the story. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->If you read <b>Mark 16:9–19</b>, it’s clearly written in a different style than<i> </i><b>Mark 16:1–8</b>.<span> </span>The “added” verses read like a <i>CliffsNotes</i> summary of events described in other Gospels, with a few unique details added (e.g., followers of Jesus picking up snakes, <i>verse 18</i>).<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><b>Luke 24:1–12.<span> </span></b>While<b> </b>Luke’s resurrection story is <i>similar</i> to Mark’s, he adds unique material.<b><o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l3 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->The overall structure is similar to Mark’s original account of the resurrection, but details are different…<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l3 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->There are <i>two </i>angels in Luke’s story—as opposed to one in Mark’s account (v<i>erse 4</i>).<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l3 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->The women are never told<i> to</i> Galilee to find Jesus in this account, but they are reminded of what Jesus said to them while they were <i>in </i>Galilee (<i>verse 6</i>).<span> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l3 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Several women (5+) report the empty tomb to the skeptical men (<i>verses 10–11).</i><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l3 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Only Peter—not John as in John’s account—runs to the tomb to see for himself what has happened; he too leaves <i>amazed by what he discovered</i> (<i>verse 12</i>). <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l3 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Luke uniquely gives us the famous <i>Walk to Emmaus</i> scene (<b>Luke 24:13–35</b>). <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l3 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Luke uniquely records another post-resurrection encounter where Jesus eats a meal with the disciples.<span> </span><i>This is no ghost; it really is Jesus in the flesh!</i><span> </span>(<b>Luke 24: 36–49</b>).<span> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><b>Matthew 28:1–10</b>.<span> </span>Matthew adds some material that’s unique to his version of events.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->While similar to Mark’s account, Matthew’s resurrection story has some unique details. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Overall, events are more dramatic than Mark’s (and Luke’s) telling… <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->There is an earthquake (<i>verse 2</i>) as the women approach the tomb.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->A <i>lone</i> angel makes a spectacular entrance as the women approach, rolls away the stone, and sits on it (<i>verse 2</i>).<span> </span>Matthew leaves no doubt how that stone got moved. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Contrast Matthew’s story with Mark and Luke’s more passive accounts where the angel(s) appear to the women inside the tomb—which is already open when they arrive. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Only Matthew mentions the Roman soldiers standing guard outside the tomb—who are paralyzed with fear and <i>become like dead men</i> when the angel shows up (<i>verse 4</i>).<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Jesus meets the women as they run from the tomb to tell the others (<i>verses 9–10</i>) but Matthew never specifically mentions the men visiting the tomb to see for themselves.<o:p></o:p></p><p><style class="WebKit-mso-list-quirks-style">
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</style></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->The guards are later bribed into participating in a cover up of what really happened at the tomb (<b>Matthew 28:11–15</b>). <o:p></o:p></p>alanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05413930979508026433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2734996330741612787.post-40867950413197727492021-02-04T19:56:00.001-05:002021-02-05T07:54:55.470-05:00The Power of the Unimaginable<p> <br /><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: large;">M</span><span style="font-size: medium;">ost of you know that I’m not the most outwardly emotional person.</span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">But occasionally there comes a moment when a piece of music, or a scene from a book or movie hits me just so—and I am undone.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">I had one of those moments recently.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">My daughter is absolutely enthralled with the musical</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><i style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Hamilton</i><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">She plays the soundtrack constantly and sings along.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">Many times, the music becomes background noise in our home, but one day Becca was listening to the soundtrack in her room, and I walked in about the time <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bMAoOGnw9qQ">“It’s Quiet Uptown”</a> (a.k.a., “The Unimaginable”) played.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">Perhaps for the first time, I really heard the lyrics, and tears welled up within me.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Especially since tears aren’t that common for me, when they do come, I’ve learned to pay attention. Theologian Richard Rohr says that our great loves and great sorrows can reveal much about our true identity. So, I pondered what God might be trying to reveal to me through my tears? </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; font-size: large;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpZMRCPrg6Hx8_W6jdOjZhADNTnfLFHxcG_9K9TIFpmJJkXFmewu2r772r7MDjhcKR2uAubjftkoImD4pLk6S1zY7Bi3pCKnptl5ejoBQ1UWllAWKBcwzW6Cyby2u32w_E39erWbALSdU/s1280/Hamilton_unimaginable.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpZMRCPrg6Hx8_W6jdOjZhADNTnfLFHxcG_9K9TIFpmJJkXFmewu2r772r7MDjhcKR2uAubjftkoImD4pLk6S1zY7Bi3pCKnptl5ejoBQ1UWllAWKBcwzW6Cyby2u32w_E39erWbALSdU/w346-h194/Hamilton_unimaginable.jpg" width="346" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"It's Quiet Uptown" from Hamilton<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">For those who may be unfamiliar, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hamilton_(musical)"><i>Hamilton</i> </a>tells the story of the life of Alexander Hamilton through song and dance. The song “It’s Quiet Uptown” occurs near the end of the play. Its lyrics are sung by Alexander and his wife Eliza as they work through the loss of their adult son Philip (who has been killed in a duel), and then choose to try and reconcile as a couple. Both acts seem <i>unimaginable</i>: <i>How could God take a child from their parents? How could Eliza ever forgive Alexander for his betrayal?</i> The song’s opening lyric says:<o:p></o:p></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">There are moments that the words don't reach<br />There is suffering too terrible to name<br />You hold your child as tight as you can<br />And push away the unimaginable</span><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;">W</span><span style="font-size: medium;">hile I can’t comment personally on the experience of betrayal by a spouse and the choice to reconcile, I can speak with some authority on losing a child. Many of you know that our daughter Becca’s twin sister Hope died two days after birth. (I have <a href="https://bigalscorner.blogspot.com/2008/05/hope-and-becca-are-born-but-not-without.html">told that story in other settings</a> and won’t repeat it here.) I remember the pain of letting Hope go. As much as I wanted to hold on tight to her, there came a point where I realized that nothing I did could save her for this earthly life. Laurie and I ultimately concluded the most humane choice for her was to do the unimaginable: we let Hope slip from life support to life eternal—from our flailing, finite arms into the everlasting arms of Jesus. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">While the Ward’s specific path through the valley of the shadow of death was quite different from that of the Hamilton’s, our respective journeys served as our initiation into </span><i style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">The Lost Child Club</i><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">. Believe me, this is not a club anyone voluntarily seeks to join. No, this club chooses you—and the initiation typically leaves an indelible mark on your soul. Whether the loss is an adult child or an infant, the admission cost is one that no parent should ever have to pay. And yet some do. More than you might realize. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-family: times; font-size: large;">So, <i>if you </i><i>see us on the street,</i><i> </i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-family: times; font-size: large;"><i>Walking by ourselves, have pity.</i> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-family: times; font-size: large;">W<i>e’re working though the unimaginable</i>. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">Almost 13 years later after my initiation, I still am. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</b></span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;">P</span><span style="font-size: medium;">rofound loss can be a window into deeper healing or deeper loss. For Alexander and Eliza, it seems losing their son led them to try and rebuild their marriage. But sometimes, the loss of a child leads to the exact opposite result. The stress of the experience is too much for one or both partners to bear and, rather than pulling together, some couples are torn apart—which only compounds the tragedy. While Laurie and I were fortunate to come through our loss stronger in the long-run, I would say there were some growing pains along the way. We each processed our grief differently and had to learn more about one another through the pain of the loss of our daughter. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><br /></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>So, how did we get through it?</i> From our Christian perspective, we give glory to God. We credit the Divine Presence as the “third strand” that held us together even when both of us felt like we were coming unraveled. But on some level, like Alexander and Eliza express in the lyrics of “It’s Quiet Uptown,” we had to choose to lean toward each during a time of incredible stress—when we might have every reason to pull further apart. I say without reservation that it took the work of all <b><i>three</i></b> strands in our marriage to survive the unimaginable. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">For me personally, when I look back on that tragic time, I see that the loss of my daughter opened a window to process some deeper grief in my life. As great as the sadness was over losing my daughter, there is a Deeper Sadness that hangs like an oppressive cloud over my whole life. My mother has struggled with mental illness since I was a very small child (if not before) and it has impacted each member of my family in different ways. Her diagnosis is complicated but obsessive thoughts of harming children—including me—seem to have been part of it, along with depression. She spent time in psychiatric hospitals on several occasions, including some stints when I was very young. Not long after Hope died, my mom ended up in the hospital again. While it was hard to watch her go through that so soon after losing my daughter I think God used the experience to help me reenter some of my childhood wounds, acknowledge the impact they had on me, and begin to heal. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">So, given all that I suppose it’s easy to see why I found myself wiping tears away that day in my daughter’s room when I heard “It’s Quiet Uptown.” They were deeply <i>personal</i>. I experienced a sense of solidarity with the Hamilton’s. I hadn’t been exactly where they were, but it felt familiar. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p><b style="text-align: center;"> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: large;">B</span><span style="font-size: medium;">ut some of my tears, I think, came from a deeper, more<i> universal</i> well. I think if we live long enough, each one of us will eventually face something in our lives that seems</span><i style="font-size: large;"> </i><span style="font-size: medium;">unimaginable. Perhaps you are facing the unimaginable in your life right now? Or maybe it's someone close to you—and when they hurt, you hurt with them? Or maybe it's both... at the same time, and you wonder how much you can bear? </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">Likewise, we might witness events the world around us that we never thought we’d see happen—i.e., things that seem unimaginable—and they make us weep. For example, whoever thought Pearl Harbor would be attacked, or or the President would be shot, or the Space Shuttle would blow apart (twice), or the Pentagon would be attacked and the World Trade Center towers would fall, or the COVID-19 pandemic would force us to radically alter our lives, or the U.S. Capitol would be the site of an attempted insurrection to overthrow an election? </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">Both personally and globally, on this Third Rock from the Sun we call home, it seems</span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> we constantly have to stretch our imaginations to imagine new possibilities </span></b><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">when it comes to trials and suffering</span></span></b><b><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">.</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"><b>I wonder though: Do we also need to stretch our imagination when it comes to envisioning goodness and grace?</b> Do certain positive outcomes to circumstances that arise seem impossible to us because we aren't yet creative enough to see how they can possibly become reality? Like the Prophets, both ancient and modern, do we need to expand our imagination to imagine new possibilities, new ways of being with God? Are we too quick to limit the power of faith, hope, and, "the greatest of these," LOVE, to "the way we've always done it"? The COVID pandemic has forced us to break out of our "boxes" of comfort and familiarity and try doing things a different way. However, only time will tell if the change is temporary or transformative Will we immediately retreat back to our cozy boxes when the current crisis is over, or will we allow this time in liminal space to help us imagine and begin to shape new ways of being "the Church" in the post-COVID world? </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">If Paul is right (in </span><b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">1 Corinthians 13:13</b><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">) about the qualities that will truly endure in the end (and perhaps into eternity), then it seems to me that everything that our communities of faith do should be aimed at one thing: giving us opportunities to practice at living faith, hope, and especially love, in our daily lives.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"><b>Could it be that the solution to the unimaginable suffering in this world will ultimately only be found as more people learn to practice unimaginable love? </b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">That seems to be the road that Alexander and Eliza chose to walk. Out of the tragedy of losing their son, they chose to work to reconcile their marriage. No doubt it would be hard, but they decided the effort to rekindle their love was worth it. It's also the story that's at the core of our Christian faith. Out of the unimaginable tragedy of the Cross of Good Friday comes the unimaginable triumph of the Empty Tomb on Easter. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="color: red;">In the end unimaginable love triumphs over unimaginable suffering.</span></b> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</b></span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;">I</span><span style="font-size: medium;"> heard “It’s Quiet Uptown” again recently when Becca was playing it, and the tears came back. This time I heard it from the perspective of a husband whose wife will soon undergo open heart surgery. I will soon put my trust in capable surgeons to put a “new heart” in her—or a new valve anyway. I’ve been assured that things will go well and that she will have a better quality of life after this. <i> And I believe… <o:p></o:p></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>And yet I need help with my unbelief</i>. I’ve learned the hard way that life comes with no guarantees. Things can go horribly wrong. We aren’t always spared the unimaginable. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;">I </span><span style="font-size: medium;">went back to the lyrics and read these words:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;">I don't pretend to know<br />The challenges we're facing<br />….<br />And you need time<br />But I'm not afraid<br />I know who I married<br />Just let me stay here by your side<br />That would be enough</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: large;">I </span><span style="font-size: medium;">don’t know how it feels to be in my wife’s shoes right now as she prepares to have heart surgery. I can’t go through this</span></span><i style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> for</i><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> her, but I can go through it </span><i style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: large;">with</i><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> her. I also don’t know what challenges might arise in the next few weeks for our family, but I trust that God will equip me/equip us to respond. There’s no way around this, so we’ve got to go through it—together. My wife needs time to heal her body—and I need to help create the space for her to do that. It can seem like a task that’s too big for any of us, but I am not afraid, because I know the woman I married is strong and resilient—and the God we worship is with us even in the midst of the unimaginable. I’m committed to be there for Laurie—and to trust that</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"><i> I</i></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i> will be enough</i>. I can say that last line with confidence because I know I don't take this journey alone. God goes with me, and with my wife, and others from our church family are praying for us and supporting us. Our church community is modeling love in a powerful way. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;">I </span><span style="font-size: medium;">was also moved by these words near the end of the song:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">There are moments that the words don't reach<br />There's a grace too powerful to name<br />We push away what we can never understand<br />We push away the unimaginable</span><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">T</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">he Apostle Paul said that there comes a moment when we’ve said all we can and must yield to God’s Spirit who intercedes for us in a wordless language that sounds like groans to us—</span><b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Romans 12:26–27</b><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> I </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">know the time will come when there can be no more spoken words between my beloved and me until "after surgery." </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">I truly believe she is in good hands at Inova Hospital—and I believe that God’s hand holds my wife and everyone else involved.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">Nevertheless, I know it will be hard to let her go into that operating room.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">In those <i>moments that the words don't reach</i>,</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">I must trust that I stand in the presence of that <i>Grace too Powerful to Name</i></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><i> </i></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">(which I call God), who speaks when I can’t.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">Confident in that knowledge I can <i>push away what I can never understan</i>d; I can <i>push away the unimaginable; </i>and I can trust, along</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> with Lady Julian of Norwich, that <i>"all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing will be well." </i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>FOR REFLECTION</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLQapNoQj3skZXSJT2Xa5tGJ7b6pmVzJkC_oNa_IEUsf66fPkzesR_xpcd45AVRBHv3kSMHm_k1TidBgur2FtUHpl2B7s7iCJfa3jqIoivBS_ckMtZBJ-IpJErCrz9BT0H_8AufM-3iUo/s1024/Lent-graphic.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="576" data-original-width="1024" height="162" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLQapNoQj3skZXSJT2Xa5tGJ7b6pmVzJkC_oNa_IEUsf66fPkzesR_xpcd45AVRBHv3kSMHm_k1TidBgur2FtUHpl2B7s7iCJfa3jqIoivBS_ckMtZBJ-IpJErCrz9BT0H_8AufM-3iUo/w288-h162/Lent-graphic.jpg" width="288" /></a></div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;">T</span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: medium;">he season of Lent will soon be upon us. (Ash Wednesday is February 17, 2021.) This six-week liturgical season is intended to draw us closer to the cross. The idea is to intentionally examine ourselves to see what keeps us from experiencing a deeper union with our Creator and then seek to rid ourselves of those practices and/or take up new practices that lead us toward our stated goal of growing in our walk with God. The ancient <i>Threefold Way</i> often used as a model during Lent includes: <i>purgation</i> (i.e., getting rid of the old things that clutter our life), <i>illumination </i>(i.e., becoming aware of new possibilities), and<i> contemplation</i> (i.e., moving into deeper relationship</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> with God).</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: large;">Is there something <i>unimaginable</i> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: large;">you are carrying that you need to lay down this year on Ash Wednesday? </span></li><li><span style="background-color: white;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">Does doing something good in some area of life seem </span><i style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: large;">unimaginable</i><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> to you right now? Ask God to stretch your vision during Lent to help you imagine a new possibility for achieving it. </span></span></li><li><span style="background-color: white;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;">How does God call you to open yourselves to the power of <i>unimaginable</i> love this Lent?</span></span></li></ul><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: large;">P</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: medium;">erhaps you could find a friend or friends with whom you can discuss these questions. I can't guarantee you will be set free from your trial or suffering or be given an epiphany on the spot. I don't think faith works that way. What I can tell you, based on personal experience, is that: <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=plusn6O64Zs">"After the last tear falls there is love."</a> </i></span></p>alanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05413930979508026433noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2734996330741612787.post-69742997578152116782021-01-19T17:00:00.001-05:002021-01-19T17:01:39.874-05:00Words for Those Feeling Disinherited<style class="WebKit-mso-list-quirks-style">
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</style><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">I have been reading the book, “Jesus and the Disinherited,” over the past few months as part of the online <i>Renovaré</i> book club. Howard Thurman’s classic was first published in 1949. While some of the specific content makes it clear that Thurman was a “man of his time,” I’m struck by how much of the message remains relevant today.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: medium; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBziKK5dST1UXBSLFnuLm_jJ33lzTYPXuX8qb6LcYlo3Dk0sxXlKEC2PUP11WSW8028ldHhTYGELNwQ5llhd75vCtZ-9JKv6RWjeZaIt1nqjK7ptkXb1UxbmWRAHMQXOdBZ2a57_1BNcA/s2048/Jesus+and+the+Disiherited_cover.HEIC" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1352" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBziKK5dST1UXBSLFnuLm_jJ33lzTYPXuX8qb6LcYlo3Dk0sxXlKEC2PUP11WSW8028ldHhTYGELNwQ5llhd75vCtZ-9JKv6RWjeZaIt1nqjK7ptkXb1UxbmWRAHMQXOdBZ2a57_1BNcA/s320/Jesus+and+the+Disiherited_cover.HEIC" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">Thurman directs his message to those <i>“with their back against the wall.” </i>Being a man of his time and an African American, he focuses primarily on the plight of the “American Negro” in the <i>Jim Crow</i> segregated South. However, he acknowledges that many populations around the world find themselves in a similar predicament. For example, Thurman was deeply influenced by the experience of Mohandas Gandhi in India, where the Indian people were brutally oppressed by British colonizers. <o:p></o:p></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">While Thurman clearly focused on populations who were <i>disinherited</i> in his day, I think his message transcends time and can still be applied today. I imagine that everyone of us has at one point or another felt like they like they have been living “with their back against the wall.” Given that reality, maybe it’s worth thinking about what Thurman has to say to us in 2021.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">After introducing the plight of the disinherited, Thurman proceeds to place Jesus in his historical context. This is such an important starting point for any Biblical study. We have to understand Jesus in the context in which he lived: Jewish, poor, and living under Roman oppression. In other words, the historical Jesus lived “with his back against the wall,” and thus, Thurman suggests, he can relate to the plight of the disinherited. The “religion of Jesus” (not to be confused with Christianity as it is often practiced today) has much to offer them—wherever and whenever they live.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">The bulk of the book is three chapters that discuss what Thurman calls “the three <i>hounds of hell</i> that dog the footsteps of the poor, the dispossessed, and the disinherited.” The first of these hounds is <i>fear</i>. There are many fears with which humans struggle, but the specific fear that plagues the disinherited is suffering violence at the hands of the dominant power. The weak come up with all kinds of tactics to avoid being killed by the strong.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">Thurman talks about how fear makes us define ourselves relative to others. When others gain new freedom, I fear losing my privileged status over them. We fall for the lie that the only way<i> they</i> can possibly gain more is for<i> me </i>to have less. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">Thurman says that the only remedy to fear is faith. That is to say, one has to become secure in one’s own identity as <i>a child of God</i>. An individual needs to feel like “they count” or that “they matter.” When one becomes secure in that identity, what others think of us doesn’t matter as much. That is to say, our external circumstances no longer dictate our perception of ourselves. Although it’s not exactly a positive example, Thurman (publishing in 1949) points out how part of what made Adolf Hitler’s message to the German youth so effective was that he made them feel like they counted, like their voice was heard. Does this sound at all familiar to us today?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">While being a child of God is an essential starting point for overcoming our fear of the other, it’s not enough. Once we become secure in <i>who we are</i>, in general, we need to know <i>what we are</i> specifically. In other words, what gifts has God given me uniquely and who does God call <i>me</i> to be <i>individually</i>. Thurman argues that knowing <i>who we are</i> and <i>what we are</i> is the best antidote the disinherited can have as they stand against fear.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">The second hound that the book discusses is <i>deception</i>, which has long been a tactic used by the weak to avoid the wrath of the strong. In fact, deception seems hard-wired into creation. Animals have evolved attributes and they adopt tactics that help them deceive predators. Similarly, deception is alive and well in human relationships. Children learn to use deception to manipulate their parents to get things they want. Likewise, Thurman talks about how, in a traditionally male-dominated world, women employ deception to get what they want. I personally think this is one of those places where the content is a bit dated. Deception is hardly unique to women; it’s a technique both sexes use to manipulate—and to get what they want.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"> <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">Thurman talks about how lies can become habitual. (Indeed, we can learn negative habits as well as positive ones.) As he puts it, “the penalty of deception is to become a deception.” <a href="https://www.patheos.com/blogs/suspendedinherjar/2021/01/words-for-those-feeling-disinherited/">Can we think of any modern examples of this?</a> <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">According to Thurman, the only true remedy to deception is uncompromising sincerity (or integrity.) Sometimes we attempt to “hold the line” on certain issues and compromise on others in order to survive. However, it’s hard to straddle the fence between honesty and deception for long. The Apostle James warns us that, <i>“A doubleminded man is unstable in all he does”—</i><b>James 1:8, KJV. </b>In other words, eventually you’re bound to fall off the fence!<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">Last but not least, the book discusses the hound of <i>hate</i>. Thurman talks about how hate of the Japanese became acceptable in the aftermath of World War II. Hate, he explains, validates our negative feelings toward “the enemy” and provides a sense of significance to our endeavors. Hate provides a “tremendous source of dynamic energy” that <i>temporarily</i> fuels our enmity. Thurman describes how normal American life didn’t prepare young men psychologically to become “human war machines.” He writes that, “Something radical has to happen to their personality and to their overall outlook to render them more effective tools of destruction.” In other words , they have to be trained to hate the enemy. The problem is that once a person becomes “<i>disciplined in hate</i>, they find it hard to discriminate whom they hate. Thurman says that, whatever short-term “benefits” hatred may bestow, it ultimately “turns to ash,” and consumes the person—because it “guarantees a final isolation from one’s fellows.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">Thurman outlines a <i>progression of hate</i> in the book. He explains how hate usually arises in a situation where two people (or groups) have <i>contact but not fellowship</i>. In other words, they don’t really know each other personally—and certainly not intimately. (While not impossible to do, I think it’s harder to hate someone you know intimately.) In contrast, when you have contact but lack a true sense of connection, it can lead to what Thurman calls<i> unsympathetic understanding</i> of the other. That is to say, even though I don’t know you personally, I rather arrogantly assume I’ve got <i>you</i> “all figured out”—and the verdict is usually not positive. Of course, since I haven’t really taken the time to truly get to know you, my assessment can’t be based in reality. But that doesn’t matter, because I assume I “know” who you are and proceed to cultivate active ill will based on those misconceptions. If this goes far enough then it can lead to what Thurman calls<i> hatred walking on earth </i>in a human body—or we could say, <i>embodied hate</i>. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">Jedi Master Yoda (from <i>Star Wars</i>) said: <i>“Fear is the path of the dark side</i> (which was all about deception)<i>. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.” </i> This is a slightly different list of traits mentioning a couple “pups” of the hounds of hell: anger and suffering. Another similar list is Paul’s <i>Works of the Flesh</i> in <b>Galatians 5:19–21</b>. The essential message of all these lists is the same: These ravenous canines feed off of one another. They reproduce within the individual they inhabit and ultimately consume them. Thurman concludes that, “Jesus rejected hatred because he saw that hatred meant death to the mind, death to the spirit, death to communion with [God]. He affirmed life and hatred was the great denial.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">What is the remedy, then, to these voracious scourges on human life? Is there a kind of “mace” that can be used to repel the hounds of hell? Jesus suggests the answer is<i> love</i>. (Paul starts with <i>love </i>and then proceeds to list eight other <i>Fruit of the Spirit</i>—<b>Galatians 5:22–23</b>—to counter the <i>Works of the Flesh</i>discussed above.) Of course, the cliché is that the Gospel in a word is love. It seems too simple an answer; yet anyone who has tried to actually live out <b>1 Corinthians 13 </b>(and not just read it at a wedding) will tell you how hard it is. The religion of Jesus makes the love-ethic central. (The same ethic was also key to Gandhi’s teachings.) Jesus said that we should love our neighbors—and then demonstrated what he meant. As Thurman says it, Jesus shows (e.g., in the parable of the Good Samaritan) that “every [person] is potentially every other [person’s] neighbor.” He not only told stories about love—but he also lived love. He reached out the least, the last, and the lost. Jesus modeled <i>agape love</i> in all of his relationships and interactions not just with friends but also with “enemies”—with intimate allies, with the Jewish leaders (who collaborated with Rome), and with the Romans oppressors themselves. He gave the ultimate demonstration of love when he died on the cross. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">In the words of Martin Luther King, Jr., “Hate cannot drive out hate. Only love can do that.” <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><div style="border: 1pt solid windowtext; padding: 1pt 4pt;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; padding: 0in;"><b>FOR REFLECTION </b><i>[<span style="color: #2b00fe;">Read <b>1 Corinthians 13</b>; <b>Galatians 5:16–26</b>; <b>James 1:2–8</b>]</span></i><b><o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="border: none; margin-left: 0.15in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-padding-alt: 1.0pt 4.0pt 1.0pt 4.0pt; padding: 0in; text-indent: -0.15in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Can you think of a situation where you felt like “your back was against the wall”? <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="border: none; margin-left: 0.15in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-padding-alt: 1.0pt 4.0pt 1.0pt 4.0pt; padding: 0in; text-indent: -0.15in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Do the descriptions of the three “hounds of hell” resonate with you? Did you experience feelings of fear, deception, and/or hatred in your situation? Did they feed off of each other?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="border: none; margin-left: 0.15in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-padding-alt: 1.0pt 4.0pt 1.0pt 4.0pt; padding: 0in; text-indent: -0.15in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Have you ever seen the progression of hate described above play out in your life? <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="border: none; margin-left: 0.15in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-padding-alt: 1.0pt 4.0pt 1.0pt 4.0pt; padding: 0in; text-indent: -0.15in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Do you really believe love is the “mace” that can drive away these hounds? It’s easy for us to say, “I love you”—but can we <i>live love</i> as Jesus did? <o:p></o:p></p></div>alanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05413930979508026433noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2734996330741612787.post-54513917465947429172021-01-09T13:12:00.000-05:002021-01-09T13:12:10.756-05:00The Epiphany Insurrection<p> <span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">The events described below occurred on January 6, 2021—Epiphany, the twelfth and final “day of Christmas.”</span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">The Biblical stories for that season come from the second chapter of</span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">the Gospel of Matthew.</span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">I make several allusions to them in the following narrative.</span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">Americans woke that morning to news that a new day was dawning for our nation’s politics. As it did for those “wise men” long ago (<b>Matthew 2:1–12</b>), the news of Epiphany 2021 caught me by surprise. Even though our modern “wise men” projected such a result was possible, it still seemed like a longshot to me. And I’m certainly surprised from whence the “good news” came. It came not from California, New York, or other bastions of blue, but from a former stronghold of the old red regime—Georgia. Yes, both nationally and locally, Georgia has played a key role in bringing about this new blue day for America. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">Meanwhile, back at the palace, the puppet king raged, desperate to cling to the last vestiges of the old world where he and his allies ruled supreme, and without meaningful opposition. Just as Herod was <i>“greatly troubled”</i> by news that his dominion was threatened<i> “and all Jerusalem with him” </i>(<b>Matthew 2:3</b>), so Donald Trump seems to have drawn all Washington, DC, into his tragic downward spiral of defeat. While Trump didn’t order the slaughtering of infant children as Herod did (<b>Matthew 2:16–18</b>), one can argue that he’s already got the blood of more than 365,000 Americans on his hands because of his Administration’s inept handling of the COVID-19 pandemic. And the death toll grows every day! I wonder if he can he hear <i>Rachel’s lament</i> (<b>Matthew 2:18</b>) from the White House? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">Furthermore, like Herod, Trump seems hell-bent on doing as much damage to his enemies—and even in these last days, his friends—as he exits. On January 6—the day of Epiphany—and the day the Constitution stipulates that the results of a Presidential election shall be certified by a joint session of Congress, Donald Trump summoned his followers to gather in Washington, DC, to take to the streets in an effort to protest the election results—to “stop the steal” as he likes to say it. That morning, the puppet king, who had been increasingly reclusive since losing the election in November, made an appearance before his loyal thralls. He encouraged the crowd assembled to march to the Capitol, to “be strong,” and to take what was rightfully theirs. And march they did…<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">Meanwhile, in the halls of Congress, the election certification process began. Trump and his dark disciples plotted treachery in the aftermath of the election. They came up with a plan to attempt to overturn the results of a free and fair vote that decisively showed the people desired a new leader. They turned what is normally a formality that no one who isn’t a political pundit notices into a day of high drama. One by one, these lawmakers delivered impassioned—but utterly false—soliloquys that included the same baseless accusations of widespread election fraud that Donald Trump had been spouting off to his supporters for months, saying in essence: <i>“The only way I lose is if it’s rigged.” </i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">Despite those events, what happened next still caught me by surprise as I watched the surreal spectacle unfold on my TV screen. The alphabetical rollcall of states certifying their electoral college votes only got as far as Arizona before chaos erupted—outside the chambers. The aforementioned mob of Trump supporters reached the Capitol and seemingly strolled onto the grounds and into the building with little meaningful resistance from the police. Stoked by their leader’s evil rhetoric a few hours earlier, these domestic terrorists stormed into the U.S. Capitol, staging what can only be described as an attempted coup. The angry rioters forced lawmakers on both sides of the aisle and their staff to shelter in place and/or retreat to “undisclosed locations.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; margin: 0in;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; font-family: Cambria, serif;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwLWUGMEu0DWQV8Q5uh7BhoNTvbzpnaokQAYCwe-7_5BUYWUSntOasOpSzBuAVw_r3wAbiPYZNM_-DDkjRrRsK61GIWShh_E1p2DJwrizybYKmCHy9Cn6DCmJBKHkt5lFv589uXcro7lY/s1200/Viking+guy+on+Senate+Dais.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="697" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwLWUGMEu0DWQV8Q5uh7BhoNTvbzpnaokQAYCwe-7_5BUYWUSntOasOpSzBuAVw_r3wAbiPYZNM_-DDkjRrRsK61GIWShh_E1p2DJwrizybYKmCHy9Cn6DCmJBKHkt5lFv589uXcro7lY/s320/Viking+guy+on+Senate+Dais.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b>Viking on the Senate dais</b>.<br />One of the surreal images from the <br />Epiphany Insurrection on January 6, 2021.</i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Some members of the pro-Trump mob strolled through the rotunda of the Capitol as if they were on a tour. They took selfies as they defiled the hallowed halls of Congress in strangely orderly fashion. Some paused for pictures—a few even did so with police officers! One individual really stood out to me. He was wearing Viking attire and set himself up on the dais of the U.S. Senate </span><span style="font-size: medium;">chamber and smiled as he posed for photos. This somehow seemed a fitting image to summarize this crazy day in U.S. history. As the world watched, Jake Angeli and his band of brigands “raped and pillaged” one of the sacred symbols of our democracy. </span></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">Four people lost their lives during the insurrection (one shot, three from medical issues), There was damage to the Capitol grounds—although things could have been much worse. It is also painfully obvious that the police took much longer to restore order than they should have. They acted much more decisively when the President wanted to have a photo op at a church near the White House during the Black Lives Matter protests last summer in Washington, DC. (There needs to be a whole separate discussion about the white privilege of being able to behave like a tourist when one participates in a coup attempt.)<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">Despite the seditious delusions of a small number of Trump-loyal Senators and Representatives, the results of the 2020 election were ultimately certified early in the morning on January 7. Joe Biden will soon be sworn in as our 46<sup>th</sup>President, and Kamala Harris as the Vice President. Nevertheless, there is no denying that January 6, 2021, was a dark day for America that has thrown our nation’s capital into turmoil. (I wonder if Bethlehem felt similar during the final days of King Herod’s reign?) We certainly will never forget the events of Epiphany 2021. They will forever be a blemish on our democracy. But these events also remind us that it’s often darkest before the dawn… <o:p></o:p></span></p>alanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05413930979508026433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2734996330741612787.post-57191361519000191782020-12-13T06:35:00.002-05:002021-04-08T16:07:19.262-04:00Green Volunteers<p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: 11pt; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilA8Au_9YTG5l2Xy31rL_IPIVNxPj_s_vnHDpyVtVJr4RnbizppItN-b-i7DkdoQDxRpkLhgteuqMw5QE5hxZLEc0AVg18x9BDzjrdknB2IUTlb_l-6JIpFKbU8pTJt4XFgMtg5-N5Pm4/s2048/Fuchsia_201114.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1326" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilA8Au_9YTG5l2Xy31rL_IPIVNxPj_s_vnHDpyVtVJr4RnbizppItN-b-i7DkdoQDxRpkLhgteuqMw5QE5hxZLEc0AVg18x9BDzjrdknB2IUTlb_l-6JIpFKbU8pTJt4XFgMtg5-N5Pm4/s320/Fuchsia_201114.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGxSl5zwVv5dKLy3e5pcz8w4yUwWGnUh6PiSlGy5tHk7P34_1t7AjPpCPQvagOBCBWmuvMNB0QlXiX9K9PAngCejQRzxo15SH1ZRYqSDxgXRkw4iPe6746k1zMkEagI06GS3EtWsZ0HAU/s2048/Fuchsia_201209.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1996" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGxSl5zwVv5dKLy3e5pcz8w4yUwWGnUh6PiSlGy5tHk7P34_1t7AjPpCPQvagOBCBWmuvMNB0QlXiX9K9PAngCejQRzxo15SH1ZRYqSDxgXRkw4iPe6746k1zMkEagI06GS3EtWsZ0HAU/s320/Fuchsia_201209.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Green volunteers.</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: 11pt; text-align: center;"><br /></div><i><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><i><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><br /></span></span></i></p><span style="font-size: medium;">A shoot shall come out from the stock of Jesse and a branch shall grow out of his roots. —</span></span></span></i><b><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: medium;">Isaiah 11:1</span></span></b><p></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><p></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">T</span></span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">he fuchsia sitting in my kitchen reminded me of this verse from Isaiah that we frequently hear read during Advent. On Mother’s Day 2020, I bought home a flourishing hanging basket for Laurie. You know, they grow them in a greenhouse and get them looking perfect when you buy them. And then it tends to go downhill from there. It made a beautiful display on our front porch during the early summer. However, as often happens as the dog days of summer progress, the intense heat took a toll on the partial shade loving plant. (Confession: We may have forgotten to water it at times, which didn’t help.) By fall, I thought the plant was pretty much dead but... <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">Apparently, a <i>remnant</i> survived. The picture on the right was taken on November 14. Yes, a fuchsia was blooming in November! How 2020 of it. How warm our world is becoming!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">I am a fan of Carrie Newcomer. One of my favorite songs of hers is “You Can Do This Hard Thing.” You may have seen a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h0M2PO1ZlVg">video of people singing this song</a> with her that circulated back around Easter</span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">. Here is the chorus:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;">You can do this hard thing.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;">You can do this hard thing.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;">It’s not easy I know, but I believe that it’s so.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;">You can do this hard thing.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">W</span></span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">e certainly had to do some “hard things” during 2020 haven’t we? For more than nine months, a pandemic has had the world in its grips, and though promise of a vaccine seems to be shining some Advent light into the darkness, we still don’t know exactly when life will return to any semblance of “normal”. Even when that day comes, we know life will <i>never</i> be exactly the same as it was before COVID, and the fear of the unknown is always a hard thing for us humans. The pandemic has thrown our nation into the worst financial crisis since the Great Depression, which is certainly a source of hardship and anxiety for many. If that’s not enough we’ve had our nation’s original sin of systemic racism thrust to the forefront of our consciousness this year—and that’s a hard conversation for all of us. Add to all that an existential climate crisis that has seemingly become impossible to deny (although some still do). This hard thing is beyond any one person’s (or nation’s or religion’s) ability to adequately respond. Yeah, I’d say it’s been a hard year!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">I guess we’d like to know that things will get easier in 2021. Certainly, we pray that will be so. But we don’t get a guarantee about that, do we? Life on this <i>Third Rock from the Sun </i>can be mighty hard, there’s just no sugarcoating that reality some days. Where do we look for hope?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">Perhaps creation hints at an answer? My favorite verse from “You Can Do This Hard Thing” is the last one:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 9pt 0in 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;">Here we stand breathless and pressed in hard times.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;">Hearts hung like laundry on backyard clothes lines.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;">Impossible just takes a little more time.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;">From the muddy ground comes a </span><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: medium;">green volunteer</span><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;">. <o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;">In a place we thought barren, new life appears.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p><p align="center" class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 0in 0in 9pt; text-align: center;"><i><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;">Morning will come whistling some comforting tune. For you...</span><span style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 0in;"><i><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">B</span></span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">ack to my fuchsia</span></i><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">. Since it still had a bloom and was in a basket, I decided I would try and preserve it. Before the first killing frost, I bought plant inside to see if I could bring it through the winter. The transition from outside was a bit harsh. I made the mistake of sitting it in our doorway for a day or so. The plant quickly dried out in the darker, climate- controlled environment of our home. It lost some of the few meager shoots it had left. The cat may have contributed to the carnage; I think she ate one of the blooms. I once again thought the plant might be done. But I picked it up, carefully watered it, and placed it in a sunny spot in our kitchen. I’ve kept watering it every few days.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">The picture on the left was taken today. A green volunteer! A branch growing out of roots! And maybe, just maybe, a new flower bud? It’s an annual, so I have no idea if I can bring it back to flourishing, but it does appear to be growing, so I’m curious to see what happens. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">I remember a line from the movie <i>Jurassic Park</i>: <i> “Life finds a way.” </i> Nature bears witness to this. Think about areas ravaged by volcanic eruptions or forest fires. Life comes back in abundance afterwards. In fact, the ash can provide nutrients for new life. Eventually, life wins.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">In the movie, those dinosaur embryos were all <i>supposed</i> to be one sex—but somehow life found a way to replicate. The dinosaurs began to reproduce in the wild and the natural order of the world was thrown out of balance. Humans were no longer alone at the top of the chain of being. I don’t know if this really could happen, but when we witness how tenacious nature is, we might not be too quick in our human arrogance to say what is “impossible.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">Let’s not forget that our Creator reigns over all creation. God made the rules and though God usually doesn’t, it seems occasionally God may choose to alter them. Regardless of whether it be through supernatural or natural means, God routinely does hard things—even things that from our perspective seem “impossible. “ <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">This is the wisdom the Angel Gabriel imparts to Mary (and to us) during the Annunciation (<b>Luke 1:26-38</b>). When Gabriel tells Mary that she is to give birth to the Son of God, she quite naturally wonders: <i>How can this be—</i><b>Luke 1:34</b>. He explains<i> </i>to Mary that God’s Spirit will come upon her and ends by saying: <i>For nothing is impossible for God</i>—<b>Luke 1:37</b>. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"></span></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj94jtOgKzVRtQ5-F7BOQxdyFuZm_pjvREU52js-xrnlEBB1nbQQg5ULzWfotc2qGFWHcZmYRGbY81bZXQIOU3QAeE_X1Ub6wPUlhyY3LS_ZoEVSpULXQuugOAfvLDvG0QDYH1S4QZFDjw/s1391/Mary+After+Annunciation.png" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1391" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj94jtOgKzVRtQ5-F7BOQxdyFuZm_pjvREU52js-xrnlEBB1nbQQg5ULzWfotc2qGFWHcZmYRGbY81bZXQIOU3QAeE_X1Ub6wPUlhyY3LS_ZoEVSpULXQuugOAfvLDvG0QDYH1S4QZFDjw/w320-h206/Mary+After+Annunciation.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Mary: One of God's Green Volunteers</i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">W</span><span style="font-size: medium;">e can see the theme of God doing the seemingly impossible for Mary and for her people, Israel, running throughout <i>the Magnificat</i> (<b>Luke 1:46–55</b>). This is a song Mary sings a few months after learning she is pregnant, while she was staying with her relative Elizabeth, who is pregnant with John the Baptist—her own miracle baby (<b>Luke 1:5–24</b>).</span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Mary is viewed as <i>theotokos;</i> she is the “the God-bearer.” To borrow from our plant analogy, she is a <i>Green Volunteer</i>. Think of the double meaning here; we use <i>green</i> to refer to someone young, untested, unproven. That sure describes Mary! In a time and place devoid of God’s <i>active </i>presence, God chooses Mary to be the conduit of a New Day. But that day won’t come without pain. Birth is always painful. Nevertheless, Mary is willing to do the hard thing that God calls her to do as a young, unmarried, Jewish woman. Her response is: <i>I am the Lord’s servant. Let it be as God says</i>—<b>Luke 1:38. </b>She co-labors with God to birth the impossible. (Although I think the physical labor pain was uniquely </span></span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Mary’s.)</span><span style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">While some debate the <i>factuality</i> of Luke’s account of Jesus’s birth, it’s hard to argue the <i>actuality</i> of the story of Mary (and Joseph). Mary serves as an Advent archetype for us. While we are not called to literally give birth to Jesus, Mary’s example reminds us that we are—each one of us—<i>God-bearers</i>. Christ dwells within each of us and is “birthed” through each of us in a unique way. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">God will call us to do hard things at times. How will we respond? Will we open ourselves to the “birthing” as Mary did—even when it seems impossible? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">During this Advent season, I pray our eyes will be opened to see those unexpected green volunteers, those <i>shoots coming out from the root</i> like on my tender fuchsia plant. May we, like Mary, become Green Volunteers ourselves. God has turned to many other Green Volunteers throughout history to accomplish God’s purposes. May these examples from Scripture and from nature remind us that much like creation—God our Creator always finds a way—and often, that way is through us. <o:p></o:p></span></p>alanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05413930979508026433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2734996330741612787.post-78096187678399767872020-11-13T16:47:00.000-05:002020-11-13T16:47:27.941-05:00Learning from the "The Original Storyteller"<p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Before I tell you about this story, I must first tell you the story of how I came to discover it.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">I suppose you’d say it was somewhat “random”—although I’ve learned what seems random from my perspective is orderly from God’s perspective.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">I am currently training to be a Global Ministries</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><i style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">EarthKeeper</i><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">through the United Methodist Church. One requirement of our training is to do a project.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Since writing and storytelling is my passion, my idea is to create a compendium of EarthKeeper stories, or maybe even a devotional using some material from my blog.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">We were asked to identify scriptures related to our project.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">I conducted an online search for on “storytelling in the Bible.”</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">I found a link</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">to a podcast on<a href="https://orangeblogs.org/thinkorangepodcast/episode51"> “What the Bible Teaches About Storytelling”</a>.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> There’s a Topic Timeline at the URL that provides a handy summary of the content of the ~50-minute podcast.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">During the podcast the hosts (Dave Adamson and Ashley Bohinc) interviewed Robert Carnes (interview begins at <i>19:50</i>), who talked about what makes story powerful. He has written a book called <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Original-Storyteller-Become-Better-Days/dp/154848041X">The Original Storyteller: Become a Better Storyteller in 30 Days</a></i>. Carne’s described himself as passionate writer and storytelling, so that got my attention. I decided to purchase his book, the summary motif of which is that we can learn a lot about becoming a better storyteller by studying the work of the Original Storyteller—God. Think about the stories we love. Why do we find them so compelling? Carnes argues it is because they borrow their pattern from God’s Story as recorded in the Bible. While I may not agree with everything that he states (e.g., that the <i>sole</i> purpose of the Old Testament was to point to the arrival of the protagonist of God’s Story—Jesus) I think his overall presentation was solid. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwWCvbmyFyoJGk5EGgJtT9d5BUoddsZnIm-cIJEc82jOOf57MaQb_7JIb8FdMDi5W-H4wcKCahuTB-owZP8sC46BlHQkBd2nz6Eyv5nM5XzRq2CmhUpQ4EvASZUxMv3x37MXYKUsPgKrI/s500/Originial+Storyteller.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwWCvbmyFyoJGk5EGgJtT9d5BUoddsZnIm-cIJEc82jOOf57MaQb_7JIb8FdMDi5W-H4wcKCahuTB-owZP8sC46BlHQkBd2nz6Eyv5nM5XzRq2CmhUpQ4EvASZUxMv3x37MXYKUsPgKrI/w320-h320/Originial+Storyteller.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Original Storyteller—God</i></td></tr></tbody></table></p><div style="font-size: medium; text-align: left;"></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></p><span style="font-size: medium;">Presented in the form of a 30-day devotional, each entry covers a Big Idea—a particular aspect of storytelling. There are Scripture(s), a Devotional Reading, and a Prayer related to that idea. But that’s not all; each day also provides an Action—a suggestion for how to practice the idea that has been presented. As I often do with a devotional, I read through the whole book just to get the big picture in my mind. This isn’t the first time that I’ve learned about the elements of storytelling, but I do think Carnes did a good job presenting this material in the context of God’s Story and also citing storytelling excerpts from a wide array of tales—from <i>Harry Potter</i> to <i>Star Wars</i>, from <i>Hoosiers </i>to <i>Slaughterhouse 5</i>. I look forward to spending more time with this book and I’m glad to have it as a reference as I write my own stories. </span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="color: red;">If you are interested in getting a high-level overview of the elements of story and the craft of storytelling and how these elements play out in the Bible and other literary works, I would highly recommend this book.</span></b><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Carnes provides “Twitter-length” summaries of the 30 <b>Big Ideas</b> covered in his book (pp. 129–130). I have shared them here. I think this is a good summary of story elements. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: medium;">1.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">A story’s<b> beginning</b> sets the tone for everything that’s about to happen.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;">2.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]-->Storytelling is part of our DNA; we were modeled after the <b>Original Storyteller</b>—God. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;">3.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]--><b>Words </b>are the basic building blocks of every story.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;">4.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]--><b>Narratives </b>connect the elements of storytelling together into a recognizable pattern.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;">5.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]-->A<b> protagonist </b>gives personality and focus to your story.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;">6.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]-->Effective <b>supporting characters</b> complement and amplify the actions of the protagonist.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;">7.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]--><b>Antagonists</b> stand in the way of the protagonist, driving conflict in the story.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;">8.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]--><b>Development </b>with a story’s characters give them depth and authenticity.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;">9.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]-->Every story begins and ends within the framework of <b>conflict</b>.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;">10.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]--><b>Actions</b> are the result of characters responding to conflict.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;">11.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]--><b>Conversations</b> build relationships between characters and give a story credibility. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;">12.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]-->Every person and every story has a unique <b>perspective</b>.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;">13.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]-->A storyteller’s <b>voice </b>is their own unique identity and ability to craft a story.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;">14.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]--><b>Setting </b>establishes a story’s context of both time and place.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;">15.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]-->A <b>motif</b> summarizes a story’s main themes and ideas.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;">16.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]-->A character’s <b>backstory</b> explains the motivation for their actions.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;">17.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]--><b>Foreshadowing</b> builds anticipation for the story’s coming action.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;">18.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]-->A <b>plot twist</b> relies on surprise to increase the impact of a story’s climax.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;">19.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]-->An <b>author</b> has authority over a story, just as God has authority over creation.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;">20.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]-->Know your <b>audience</b> because who you’re speaking to impacts what you say.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;">21.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]-->The more you build up to a story’s <b>climax</b>, the greater the potential payoff.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;">22.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]-->The best stories are those that elicit great <b>emotion</b>.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;">23.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]--><b>Suspension of disbelief</b> lets the audience to put aside their doubts and enter into a story.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;">24.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]--><b>Epistolaries </b>are more personal stories written in the form of letters.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;">25.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]--><b>Universal truths</b> make a story relevant well beyond its original time and place.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;">26.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]-->Storytellers use <b>imagery </b>to pain a mental picture in the mind of the audience.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;">27.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]--><b>Symbolism </b>transforms ordinary objects into the embodiment of complex concepts.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;">28.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]-->Many stories of heroes and adventure follow a similar basic template called <b>The Hero’s Journey</b>.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;">29.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]--><b>Poetic justice </b>happens when characters get what they deserve.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: small;">30.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]-->A story ends when the primary conflict comes to a <b>resolution</b>. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">I am struck by how often stories are mentioned in the reading material for my <i>EarthKeeper</i> training. This reminds me of how integral stories are to the Bible—and to life. Think about it; every new day is like a new chapter in the <i>Story of Me</i>. We are the protagonist of our tale. We come into conflict with antagonists and encounter plot twists along the way. If we are fortunate, we gather around us a band of loyal supporting characters who help us on our journey. As people of faith, we trust God to use conflict to deepen our character and ultimately bring our story to a good, and just resolution. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">God has hard-wired us as human beings to tell stories. Studies have shown stories are the most effective way to communicate information. We may forget facts but stories stick with us. This is why it’s so important to know our story, to discern how our story interacts with other people’s story—and ultimately, how all our stories weave together into God’s Story. No matter who we are, or where we find ourselves in life, we all have important stories to tell, and our universal calling is to learn how to communicate them effectively. So, these Big Ideas Carnes listed are good things to keep in mind, not just for <i>EarthKeepers</i>, but for everyone. </span><span style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><style class="WebKit-mso-list-quirks-style">
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</style>alanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05413930979508026433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2734996330741612787.post-28823887073495398442020-10-13T16:24:00.000-04:002020-10-13T16:24:19.177-04:00Exploring the "Shadow-Side" of Joy<p> <span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><i style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Cambria, serif;">Two weeks ago, our Sunday evening online </i><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Cambria, serif;">Fellowship at Five</span><i style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Cambria, serif;"> group at Good Shepherd UMC had a discussion about joy. I thought it fitting that we give equal time to discuss its “shadow-side.” Hence this devotional, which I shared in our group and also offer here…</i><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Default"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I</span><span style="font-size: medium;"> remember when our daughter Hope passed away in 2008. It was such a <i>Great Sadness</i> for me. People didn’t know what to say. Can you blame them? A two-day infant had just passed away; that’s not supposed to happen! What can you possibly say?</span></span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Default"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p class="Default"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">Unfortunately, that didn’t stop them from trying! The result was some terribly awkward moments. Here’s a sampling of <i>what was said</i> (and what I thought in response):</span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="Default" style="margin-left: 9.8pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -9.8pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; position: relative; top: 1pt;">•<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><i><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">“Everything happens for a reason.” </span></i><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">Oh, it does, huh? So, then<i> you</i> tell me why my infant passed from life support to life eternal two days after birth? <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="Default" style="margin-left: 9.8pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -9.8pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; position: relative; top: 1pt;">•<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><i><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">“Well, I guess God needed another angel.” </span></i><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Really?! I don’t even know where to begin…<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="Default" style="margin-left: 9.8pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -9.8pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; position: relative; top: 1pt;">•<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><i><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">“Well, at least you have Rebecca.”</span></i><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> Oh, you did not go there, did you? As if my surviving daughter is God’s “consolation prize” for taking my other daughter. I think not.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p align="center" class="Default" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p align="center" class="Default" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="Default"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">P</span><span style="font-size: medium;">aul says that we should rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn (</span><b style="font-size: large;">Romans 12:15</b><span style="font-size: medium;">). While we certainly need to find joy in the midst of this prolonged time of crisis, in this season where there has been so much loss, we also need to find ways to acknowledge our sadness and grief—and that of others as well. </span></span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Default"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p class="Default"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">I don’t know about you, but I find it much easier to celebrate with someone than to suffer alongside them. If someone is hurting, we want to help; we want to fix; we want to say something—anything—to make things better. But for whom? When we offer platitudes such as the ones offered to Laurie and me after we lost a child, are we acting like Job’s comforters? Are our “windy words” evidence of us trying too hard to come with explanations for things that frankly will have no logical explanation this side of eternity? Would not it sometimes be more authentic to say nothing and simply offer our presence?</span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="Default"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p class="Default"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEE-e06FYe39s-Bdzwnr-h-SQSf9mF7cXJstV-ow5sRQIquRnDlfG_axdxSqaLLOUmgoDuxWfFRjEABbAsHpXKpw7Vs0h9pLsKh55Jt4fmMVMFrXf6ZKSbz4kCwEvK8pH8EE6dnpQnZ9I/s970/Inside+Out_Joy+and+Sadness.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="595" data-original-width="970" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEE-e06FYe39s-Bdzwnr-h-SQSf9mF7cXJstV-ow5sRQIquRnDlfG_axdxSqaLLOUmgoDuxWfFRjEABbAsHpXKpw7Vs0h9pLsKh55Jt4fmMVMFrXf6ZKSbz4kCwEvK8pH8EE6dnpQnZ9I/s320/Inside+Out_Joy+and+Sadness.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The characters Sadness and Joy from<i> Inside Out</i>. </td></tr></tbody></table><br />The truth is, joy and sadness are two sides of the same coin. It’s hard to experience one if we don’t open ourselves to the other. (Sometimes we deaden ourselves so we don’t fully experience either.) We may start out life as children focused primarily on joy, and keeping sadness tucked away. (I’m well aware it’s not the case for ALL children; it wasn’t really the case in my house.) As the Disney movie <i><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Inside_Out_(2015_film)" target="_blank">Inside Out</a></i> creatively illustrated, we tend to keep these two seemingly conflicting emotions socially distanced as children, but as we mature, we find that life doesn’t always cooperate with those efforts. In fact, sometimes the veil between joy and sadness becomes perilously thin and we experience both simultaneously. That’s what it felt like for me when my twins were born. We had Rebecca, who was a thriving infant, while Hope was being kept alive by tubes in the NICU. To be honest, I felt like God was playing cruel games with our emotions. </span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="Default"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p class="Default"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">While sadness and sorrow can certainly be experienced in isolation many Biblical passages expressing grief and sorrow were written to be shared with the community. </span></span></p><p class="Default"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="Default"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">T</span><span style="font-size: medium;">hese public expressions of sadness are called <i>lamentation</i>; and we find them all throughout the Bible In fact, there’s an entire book called Lamentations—probably written by Jeremiah (discussed below.) There are 50 Psalms of Lament scattered throughout the Psalter. The Hebrew Prophets likewise frequently cry out to God and/or to others. Both the Psalmist and the Prophets speak honest truths about life—including joy, sadness, and the full range of human emotion.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="Default"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p class="Default"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">Perhaps no Prophetic voice laments louder than the “Weeping Prophet,” Jeremiah, who once exclaimed: <i>“Why is my pain continuous, my wound incurable…?” </i>(<b>Jeremiah 15:18</b>). In this context, Jeremiah was expressing the pain he felt as he tried to be faithful to God’s calling in his life. He had to deliver a hard message to God’s people—and it was not a popular one. It is a reminder to us that the <i>cost of discipleship</i> is often more than a metaphor; over time we can wear down physically, emotionally, and spiritually. </span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="Default"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p class="Default"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">The poster child for grief and sadness in the Bible is a mystery man from Uz. We’re not sure exactly when Job lived; there’s even debate if he’s a real person. Whoever he is, when we meet Job in the Bible, to paraphrase a song lyric, <i>“it hasn’t been his week, his month, or even his year.” </i>He has lost everything that he loves—and I mean EVERYTHING! Job doesn’t hold back his feelings of grief over what he has experienced, when he says: <i>“Why did I not perish at birth, come forth from the womb and expire?”</i> (<b>Job 3:11</b>). The story plays out over 39 more chapters as Job wrestles with his question including many chapters of “windy-worded” attempts at answers from several of his closest friends. And even when God finally does speak to Job out of a whirlwind (<b>Job 38:1</b>), God never really answers Job’s initial question. On the contrary, God asks Job a series of deeper, penetrating questions that Job of course cannot answer (<b>Job 38–40</b>). This exchange suggests to me that many of life’s<i> why </i>questions are meant to remain a mystery to us and to teach us to become more comfortable living in the whirlwind of <i>unknowing</i> and trusting God—who does know the answers—to show us the way through the storm.</span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="Default"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p class="Default"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">Even in the New Testament, sadness and joy seem to comingle. Jesus himself wept when he learned that his friend Lazarus had died. Likewise, in the Garden of Gethsemane, as he faced his impending arrest and crucifixion Luke says Jesus wept tears of blood. It was a moment when, in the words of <i>When I Survey the Wondrous Cross, “sorrow and love flowed mingled down.”</i> Peter likewise wept bitterly when he realized his betrayal of Jesus—and likely when he was restored too. Paul speaks of shedding tears for those under his care. </span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="Default"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p class="Default"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Scripture’s witness is clear and consistent: There is <b>no</b> shame in being sad, in feeling blue—in being authentically you—before God. </span></span></p><p class="Default"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="Default"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">T</span><span style="font-size: medium;">hat’s important to remember right now, when we feel such a mix of emotions as we respond to the current pandemic and other comingling crises in our world. Over and over again we are reminded: </span><i style="font-size: large;">Wherever we find ourselves—and however we feel—God is with us</i><span style="font-size: medium;">. </span></span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Default"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><div style="border: 1pt solid windowtext; padding: 1pt;"><p class="Default" style="padding: 0in;"><b><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">FOR REFLECTION/DISCUSSION<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="Default" style="padding: 0in;"><b><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></b></p><p class="Default" style="margin-left: 9.8pt; padding: 0in; text-indent: -9.8pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; position: relative; top: 1pt;">•<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">Do you agree that joy and sadness are opposing sides of the same coin?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="Default" style="margin-left: 9.8pt; padding: 0in; text-indent: -9.8pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; position: relative; top: 1pt;">•<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">Can you think of a time in your life when you experienced them close together?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="Default" style="margin-left: 9.8pt; padding: 0in; text-indent: -9.8pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; position: relative; top: 1pt;">•<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">Have you ever experienced the well-meaning “windy words” of others that I describe?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="Default" style="margin-left: 9.8pt; padding: 0in; text-indent: -9.8pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; position: relative; top: 1pt;">•<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">If you were to write your own <i>Psalm of Lament</i> right now, what would it say? <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="Default" style="margin-left: 9.8pt; padding: 0in; text-indent: -9.8pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; position: relative; top: 1pt;">•<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--></span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">How can we express our lament in our various community groups: e.g., family, neighborhood, church, nation, world? </span><span style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p></div><style class="WebKit-mso-list-quirks-style">
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</style>alanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05413930979508026433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2734996330741612787.post-73455467925598014702020-09-25T11:35:00.008-04:002020-09-25T11:49:35.734-04:00In the Eye of the Storm <p><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: large;">I</span><span style="font-size: medium;">f you pay attention to weather like I do, you’ve probably noticed that we’ve had an </span><b style="font-size: large;">extremely active hurricane season </b><span style="font-size: medium;">in the Atlantic this year.</span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">Every year the National Hurricane Center (NHC) puts out a list of 21 names for the Atlantic basin; they skip Q, U, X, Y, and Z. (There are similar lists for other areas; you can easily look them up if you’re interested.)</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">Since 1953, female names have been used for hurricanes.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">In 1979, the NHC began using an alternating list of male and female names.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;">Most years, 21 names are more than sufficient in the Atlantic.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">But 2020!</span><span style="font-size: medium;"> I’d think we’d all agree that this year has been anything but <i>normal</i>. So, why not add a hyperactive hurricane season?! On September 18, we exhausted the list of 2020 Atlantic hurricane names when Tropical Storm <i>Wilfred </i>formed—over two months before Hurricane Season ends. The National Hurricane Center does have a contingency plan for when we have more than 21 storms in a season; we move to the Greek Alphabet for names. We’re now up to Tropical Storm <i>Beta—</i>and it’s only September 23! We may well break the record set in 2005 (the only other year we’ve had to “Go Greek” in modern history) before all is said and done. (You may remember 2005 was a rough year; it featured Hurricanes Katrina, Rita, and Wilma, all of which significantly impacted the U.S.; we got as far as <i>Zeta</i>, the sixth Greek letter, that year.)</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: medium; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_4pGM3SJtHzYlY_FElLiTPSj_JbqQI5UaiyI2p74u4swG9tTab_dKsAPZAZ4cRlEbYgqAfRyyKyscs1b6s2O8J-OyQXcKDyePdzFH-u6hPt2QzCy0yexDTGjyGN8lRL_DWL96oi0yHaI/s2048/In+the+Eye+of+the+Storm_sketch.HEIC" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1332" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_4pGM3SJtHzYlY_FElLiTPSj_JbqQI5UaiyI2p74u4swG9tTab_dKsAPZAZ4cRlEbYgqAfRyyKyscs1b6s2O8J-OyQXcKDyePdzFH-u6hPt2QzCy0yexDTGjyGN8lRL_DWL96oi0yHaI/s320/In+the+Eye+of+the+Storm_sketch.HEIC" /></a></div><br /><b><span><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;">All these storms spinning in the Atlantic this year got me to thinking of all the things swirling in my life right now and how, like a hurricane’s storm surge, they can “sweep me out to sea” if I’m not careful. </span><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></b><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">This led me to start sketching a picture in my journal which I’ve shown here. I am not a great artist so perhaps a little interpretation helps. The sketch is based on the symbol meteorologists use to represent hurricanes, with bands radiating from the center of the storm. On each of the bands, I listed some <i>cloud of concern </i>for me right now. You can see my job (GST/NASA), my wife, my children, and also broader societal concerns like the election, climate change, and of course COVID-19. You can also see some of my ministry pursuits like writing, being a Certified Lay Servant, and my interest in possibly becoming an Earthkeeper. In the center of it all I put Jesus and me. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">A</span><span style="font-size: medium;">s often happens when I pray or journal, songs will come to mind. One of my favorite songs is called, <i>“Be the Centre,”</i> by Michael Frye The simple lyrics ask Jesus to be our source, our light, our hope, our song, our vision, our path, our guide, the wind in our sails, and the fire in our heart. But what I most like is the image of me being safe in the <i>center </i>with Jesus </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">I don’t just want Jesus to just be another thing swirling in the storms of my life, I want Jesus to be the <i>calm center </i>of my life. </span><o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">T</span><span style="font-size: medium;">o say it another way, I want Jesus to be<i> “In the Eye of the Storm” </i>with me (which is another song, by Ryan Stevenson, that came to me during my prayer time). Those who fly into the most intense hurricanes report that they often encounter the fiercest winds and rain in the <i>eyewall</i>, but then, abruptly the skies clear as they enter the <i>eye</i>, and they experience an eerie peace—a <i>calm center</i>—a temporary reprieve from the maelstrom swirling around them. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Later in the week, I came across a quote in a post from a Richard Rohr devotional that resonated with this idea of finding God in the center of all things—even in the midst of circumstances we’d never willingly choose ourselves. Rohr quotes a young Jewish woman who he says, “suffered much more injustice in the concentration camp than we are suffering now.” She wrote these words while she was imprisoned: </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 9pt;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">There is a really deep well inside me. And in it dwells God. Sometimes I am there, too … And that is all we can manage these days and also all that really matters: that we <b>safeguard that little piece of You, God, in ourselves</b>.</span></i><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 9pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: medium;">—<b>Etty Hillesum, Westerbork transit camp</b></span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">R</span><span style="font-size: medium;">ohr goes on to say that, “Somehow our occupation and vocation as believers in [the current sad time must be to first restore the Divine Center by holding it and fully occupying it ourselves. If contemplation means anything, it means that we can “safeguard that little piece of You, God,” as Hillesum describes it. What other power do we have now? All else is tearing us apart, inside and out, no matter who wins the election or who is on the Supreme Court. We cannot abide in such a place for any length of time or it will become our prison.”</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">I think what Rohr says here is simple yet profound. If we can firmly anchor ourselves in the eye of the storm with Jesus, he will teach us to recognize and “safeguard that little piece of You, God,” in ourselves. When we begin to see the Divine Image more clearly in ourselves, it becomes easier to extend that benevolent vision to every other person and creature on this planet. As we do that, we learn what Dallas Willard meant when he said: “This world is a perfectly safe place to be”—and that this is true no matter how many hurricanes come our way. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></p><div style="border: 1pt solid windowtext; padding: 1pt 4pt;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; padding: 0in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">FOR REFLECTION</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; padding: 0in;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="border: none; margin-left: 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-padding-alt: 1.0pt 4.0pt 1.0pt 4.0pt; padding: 0in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->I showed a sketch of <i>Hurricane Me</i>. What does <i>Hurricane You</i> look like? What or who are your <i>clouds of concern</i> at the moment? Maybe you would want to take time to draw <i>Hurricane You </i>and see what comes to mind? It was a helpful exercise for me. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="border: none; margin-left: 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-padding-alt: 1.0pt 4.0pt 1.0pt 4.0pt; padding: 0in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->What’s your <i>eyewall</i>? What are the fiercest storm(s) you face right now? Do you feel that God is with you in the eyewall guiding you toward the eye?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="border: none; margin-left: 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-padding-alt: 1.0pt 4.0pt 1.0pt 4.0pt; padding: 0in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Where is your <i>eye</i>—your <i>calm center</i>? Where do you go to connect with God? Is it a physical place, a state of mind—or both? <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="border: none; margin-left: 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-padding-alt: 1.0pt 4.0pt 1.0pt 4.0pt; padding: 0in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->If you don’t have an eye or can’t see it now, what can you do to establish or find your eye?<o:p></o:p></p></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></p><style class="WebKit-mso-list-quirks-style">
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</style></div>alanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05413930979508026433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2734996330741612787.post-40207400184733109642020-08-22T13:29:00.001-04:002020-08-22T13:31:02.517-04:00The Spiritual Discipline of Discomfort<p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: x-large;"> <i style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">For thus says the Lord: Only when Babylon’s seventy years are completed will I visit you, and I will fulfil to you my promise and bring you back to this place. For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope</span></i><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">—<b>Jeremiah 29:10–11</b>.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">I have <i>sleep apnea</i>; I have a CPAP machine on my nightstand that I should use more regularly than I do. <i>So, why don’t I do it?</i> Well, I never can seem to get the seal just right, and so it drives me crazy to hear myself breathing inside the mask. Or, I don’t remember to put it on before I fall asleep at night. (For those who’ve never had to use a CPAP, you really do have to be ready to be completely still before you put it on.) Even on the nights I do put it on, I usually wake up after three or four hours thirsty or having to go to the bathroom—and they say you really need more time than that for the treatment to be effective. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">While these are all valid-sounding reasons for not wearing a mask, in the end they are <i>excuses</i>. If I’m honest they all come down to one answer: <b>I don’t want to be <i>uncomfortable</i></b>. It seems I’d rather risk my health (and subject family to snoring and worrisome erratic breathing) than wear the mask. When I put it on paper it seems obvious! My decision is fairly self-centered.; my personal comfort trumps all other concerns. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix2ImBbLk2gKVB4N1kFtn2UfY6edCR-K6spLwAuekmwPfm-ueBFW8Qtez1_X1dCZIjtvngwpmO_FF_cJ7kr_NGlx1J7wYy2YTxZcDwZWwX0Wq4DDYO1bs7yfUAPWz5iT7fp31pShxMqzs/s2048/Masked+Me_Run+You+Fools.heic" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Who is that masked man?!" border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1894" height="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix2ImBbLk2gKVB4N1kFtn2UfY6edCR-K6spLwAuekmwPfm-ueBFW8Qtez1_X1dCZIjtvngwpmO_FF_cJ7kr_NGlx1J7wYy2YTxZcDwZWwX0Wq4DDYO1bs7yfUAPWz5iT7fp31pShxMqzs/w379-h410/Masked+Me_Run+You+Fools.heic" width="379" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Who was that masked man?!</i></td></tr></tbody></table>Wearing a mask. Now there’s a topic that we’re all familiar with right now, thanks to the ongoing pandemic. COVID-19 spreads primarily by aerosol transmission and solid science tells us one of the best means of protecting ourselves from it is to wear a mask. Nevertheless, some of us still resist wearing them. It isn’t so much that it protects <i>you </i>(although it does); it’s more that it protects the <i>other</i>. Like me not using my CPAP, those that choose not to wear masks do so for a variety of reasons they consider valid—e.g., they can’t breathe when they wear them, they don’t want to live in fear, they have the<i> right</i> to do as they please, they believe COVID-19 is not real and/or is politically motivated. Ah, we human beings get so creative when it comes to coming up with <i>excuses</i>, but in the end, they <i>all </i>come back to the same root: <b>I don’t want to be <i>uncomfortable</i>.</b> That is to say, we choose to put our personal concerns ahead of concerns for the common good of all. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Of course, since our institutions are made up of individuals we shouldn’t be surprised when we find the same reluctance to be <i>uncomfortable</i> at work in our Churches. At a recent webinar, the Rev. Emily Kegler said<i>: “The white American Church is unwilling to be uncomfortable.”</i> She argues that our “discomfort with discomfort” has made the Church buy into constructs designed to make us feel comfortable. She includes viewing whiteness as superior and maleness as the default gender, and our infatuation with American consumerism, as examples. She argues we become protective of (dare I say, we <i>worship</i>) these constructs (or <i>idols</i>). When we do that, we’re constantly in damage control mode, trying to protect the sanctity of the structures we’ve created to make us comfortable. It’s hard to embrace others—and to embrace Jesus—when we’re so busy protecting our personal comfort.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Although I think she’s spot-on, I admit these are hard words to hear. Kegler’s statement challenges me as a white male. She speaks like a prophet, and I don’t know too many prophets that are warmly embraced by their audience. When I hear it, my knee-jerk reaction is to begin making excuses—to protect my comfort. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">But Kegler argues that our challenge is to find ways to embrace discomfort, not just once in a while, but on a regular basis. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;">Discomfort needs to </span></b><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;">become a regular spiritual practice.</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">After hearing this, if we are open, we might be inclined to ask: <b><i>In what ways am I willing to be uncomfortable</i>? </b>While that’s a good starting point, we need to go further. Left to our own devices, we will tend to limit our discomfort to “small doses” that we can tolerate. Therefore, says Kegler, the real question we should ask is: <b><i>Where does God’s world call me to be uncomfortable?</i></b><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">The post-COVID-19 world has forced us into uncharted territory. It’s now clear this isn’t just a temporary inconvenience. We’re in this for the long-haul. Although we pray there will be a day soon when there is an effective vaccine and the spread of COVID-19 is controlled, I don’t think we’re <i>ever </i>going back to exactly the way things were BP—before the pandemic. The world has changed, and so must we—both as individuals and institutions, such as churches. We can’t go back to the way things were; we can only live in the present moment and move forward into whatever the future holds, knowing that God promises it will be good—<b>Jeremiah 29:11</b>. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">In the meantime, just as was true when Jeremiah wrote the verses above, discomfort is already here—and there’s much more to come. So, perhaps instead of avoiding it, it’s high time we learn to embrace it, and even to thrive in the midst of it. It’s not like we have a choice at the moment.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><div style="border: 1pt solid windowtext; padding: 1pt 4pt;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><b>FOR REFLECTION</b>: What is the discomfort you’ve been avoiding and how does God call you to embrace it?</span><o:p></o:p></p></div>alanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05413930979508026433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2734996330741612787.post-39034853146570851302020-08-14T15:40:00.002-04:002020-08-14T15:41:03.786-04:00Making Beauty Out of Broken Pieces<p style="text-align: center;"><i style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; text-align: left;"><span face="" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: x-large;">But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God and not of us</span></span></i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; text-align: left;"><span face="" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: x-large;">—<b>2 Corinthians 4:7</b>.</span></span></i></p><p class="Body"><b><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></b></p><p class="Body"><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">M</span></span><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">y family and I recently spent a restful week vacationing at the Outer Banks. We rented a cottage by the sea and enjoyed some much-needed time away. We spent quite a bit of time on the beach. Is there any better activity for soul restoration than lying on a secluded beach listening to the ceaseless motion of the waves? </span><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body"><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8eMNb8VKSJ63GFunz-qp0qMhYEicg0e_GGDeT4txZGuD-8Vl7LFFShRHRk6QvwLQN9PYfZaLzyWLBorxA4VW6Yq6B8WhhYNvpgvIshxe1WqkHcDeJUVr7Nf9aCuPdKVOO0-7XsNcoZmc/s2048/OBX2020_Shell+Collection.HEIC" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="512" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8eMNb8VKSJ63GFunz-qp0qMhYEicg0e_GGDeT4txZGuD-8Vl7LFFShRHRk6QvwLQN9PYfZaLzyWLBorxA4VW6Yq6B8WhhYNvpgvIshxe1WqkHcDeJUVr7Nf9aCuPdKVOO0-7XsNcoZmc/w384-h512/OBX2020_Shell+Collection.HEIC" width="384" /></a></div>During our week, Becca and I collected quite a few shells (and some rocks). As I walked along the short, I was constantly hunched over trawling through the surf to see what my hands came up with. There were times where something large would brush against my leg, or I would catch a glimpse of a larger shell under the water. Inevitably, however, before I could get my hands on it, the elusive item was swept away by the waves. While I retrieved a few smaller complete shells, many were <i>broken pieces</i>. <div><br /><o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="Body"><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body"><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">I was frustrated by my futile pursuit of ocean artifacts, until one afternoon toward the end of the week I laid out all the shells we’d collected on a table. While many of the larger shells were indeed broken, and none of the complete shells I had were all that spectacular by themselves, when I merged them all together, I created something that I thought was quite beautiful [see photo]. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body"><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body"><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">The next morning, as I sat on the porch of our cottage listening to the surf in the background and further contemplating my shells, an activity I did at a spiritual retreat several years ago. Each person was asked to think of something of which they desired to “let go.” There was a loaf of bread, and as each person named something, they tore off a piece of bread and placed it in a bowl. When we were all done, that bowl was placed at the foot of the cross. As the broken pieces of bread mingled together it became virtually impossible to keep track of which was mine—and I think that was the point. My broken pieces merge with those of the whole world and all God sees is beauty.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body"><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body"><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">After this activity, we celebrated Holy Communion. Although we used a fresh loaf, I saw a connection to the former broken one. What Jesus accomplished on the Cross somehow mends together all our broken pieces into an integrated and healed whole loaf. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body"><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body"><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">The shells in my collection reminded me of those pieces of bread in the bowl. Even the “complete shells” are broken pieces; they are that which a sea creature has “let go.” Sometimes the shell remains after the creature within dies; other times they are that which a creature casts off when it no longer fits them—e.g., crabs do this. They are most vulnerable until they grow a new shell—but without taking this risk they can never grow. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body"><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="text-align: center;"><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b>Everywhere in nature, God makes something whole and </b></span></span></p><p class="Body" style="text-align: center;"><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;">beautiful out of broken pieces. </span><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p><p class="Body"><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"><b> </b></span></p><p class="Body"><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">T</span></span><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">he verse at the beginning from 2 Corinthians comes from a section of the letter where Paul talks about how God has placed the ministry of reconciliation in fragile, vulnerable human hands. Paul explains that God does it this way so there is no doubt that the source of power is God—not us. He later tells his readers (then and now) that we are Christ’s ambassadors, and that God makes his appeal through us—<b>2 Corinthians 5:18-20</b>. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body"><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body"><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">Ponder the metaphor that Paul chooses: God places priceless treasure in rather common <i>earthen vessels</i> like you and me. A well-used earthen vessel has imperfections and will develop cracks, chips, and inevitably, broken pieces—and so do we. But just like the shells in my collection, despite our imperfections—maybe even precisely because of them—God views us all as creations of unspeakable worth and beauty. (Remember that even the risen Christ himself still bore the scars of crucifixion.) If we allow it, the light of God’s love will shine through our broken pieces, as we share God’s message and love with others. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body"><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="text-align: center;"><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b>It is through our willingness to be seen as broken pieces </b></span></span></p><p class="Body" style="text-align: center;"><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b>that the world catches glimpses of the Divine.</b><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="Body"><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body"><b><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">FOR REFLECTION</span><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="Body"><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="Body" style="margin-left: 9pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -9pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-hansi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-text-raise: -1.0pt; position: relative; top: 1pt;">•<span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">What does God call you to let go of, so that the Divine can shine through your broken pieces?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="margin-left: 9pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -9pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-hansi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-text-raise: -1.0pt; position: relative; top: 1pt;">•<span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">Is there a “shell” that cramps your growth right now? Are you willing to risk casting it off? Do you trust God to keep you safe and give you a “new shell”?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="margin-left: 9pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -9pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-hansi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-text-raise: -1.0pt; position: relative; top: 1pt;">•<span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">Do you consider your earthen vessel beautiful or do the broken pieces bother you?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="Body" style="margin-left: 9pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -9pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-hansi-font-family: "Arial Unicode MS"; mso-text-raise: -1.0pt; position: relative; top: 1pt;">•<span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span face="" style="font-family: cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">Can you see past individual imperfections in you and others to see the beauty in the collection of broken pieces that make up your community? <o:p></o:p></span></p><style class="WebKit-mso-list-quirks-style">
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</style></div>alanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05413930979508026433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2734996330741612787.post-2016960207304447752020-07-02T11:33:00.001-04:002020-07-02T14:59:54.362-04:00Thoughts on Spiritual Resilience—Learning from Harriet Tubman<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: blue;"><i style="font-weight: normal;">"It’s easy in the spiritual life to slip into a myopic focus on one's own individual journey with God. Then a book, a film, or, most powerfully, a conversation comes along and offers a new set of lenses that bring a much larger world into view"</i>—<b>Brian Morykon</b>.</span></blockquote>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">O</span><span style="font-size: small;">n Tuesday June 23, 2020 </span><i style="background-color: white; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://renovare.org/">Renovaré </a></i><span style="font-size: small;">sponsored a webinar called<a href="https://renovare.org/events/finding-resilience-when-theres-no-end-in-sight-what-can-we-learn-from-harriet-tubman?utm_source=Renovare&utm_campaign=3091aa22d3-EMAIL_CAMPAIGN_2018_02_09_COPY_02&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_78df7a4352-3091aa22d3-185891149"> </a></span><i style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://renovare.org/events/finding-resilience-when-theres-no-end-in-sight-what-can-we-learn-from-harriet-tubman?utm_source=Renovare&utm_campaign=3091aa22d3-EMAIL_CAMPAIGN_2018_02_09_COPY_02&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_78df7a4352-3091aa22d3-185891149">Finding Resilience When There’s No End in Sight: What Can We Learn from Harriett Tubman</a></i><span style="font-size: small;">.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">The participants in the discussion were </span><b style="font-size: medium;">Willie Jennings</b><span style="font-size: small;"> [Associate Professor of Systematic Theology and Africana Studies at Yale University], </span><b style="font-size: medium;">Donn Thomas</b><span style="font-size: small;"> [Renovaré Ministry Team Member—a self-described Musicianary], </span><b style="font-size: medium;">Chris Hall</b><span style="font-size: small;"> [Renovaré President], and </span><b style="font-size: medium;">Carolyn Arends</b><span style="font-size: small;"> [Renovaré Institute for Spiritual Formation], who served as moderator for the discussion.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Arends mentioned at the beginning that when the topic was conceived, and the participants started discussing what subjects to cover during the webinar, the focus was primarily on the need to live out faith “where there’s not end in sight” to the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic. More recently, the even more insidious 400-year affliction of racism has reared its ugly head once again. Perhaps especially because we’ve been living in quarantine, the recent incidents of police brutality toward people of color have placed America’s original sin firmly in the forefront of our collective consciousness. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Arends led the other participants through a series of questions that listeners had submitted in advance, and then a few that were submitted during the webinar. The result was a lively discussion that lasted over an hour and covered a wide range of topics around race, resilience, and spiritual formation. I highly recommend listening to the full version at the link above. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">Brian Morykon</b><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small;"> [Director of Communications for Renovaré] wrote a “high level” summary of the event in which he highlighted four themes that stood out to him when he listened to the webinar. I think he covered the key points pretty well. </span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small;">What follows below are some of </span><b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">my thoughts</b><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small;"> on each of the areas that Morykon mentioned in his summary. I connect these ideas to my previous blog post called </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="background-color: white;"><a href="https://bigalscorner.blogspot.com/2020/06/strengthening-our-spiritual-core.html" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: normal;">Strengthening Our Spiritual Core</a>. I think that article touched on similar ideas to those discussed during the Renovaré webinar albeit using different terminology. </span></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Mysticism</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: large; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harriet_Tubman">H</a></span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harriet_Tubman">arriet Tubman</a> is viewed by many as a </span><i style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">mystic</i><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">She had powerful visions.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">Some attribute them to a head injury that she suffered as a slave; others say they were from God.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Maybe arguing over the source of the visions is not as important as observing their impact on Tubman's life. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;">The webinar participants discussed how a mystic’s visions are never meant to be solely a private spiritual (or ecstatic) experience. They are meant to be acted upon and lived out in the context of a spiritual community Such was the case with Harriet Tubman. Her visions inspired her to take decisive action and she impacted her community for good.</span></div>
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<span style="color: blue;"><i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">"What <b>mystics</b> finally do, it seems to me, is heal within themselves the fragmentation that is evident in the world"</span></i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">—<b>Richard Rohr</b>. </span></span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><o:p><span style="color: blue;"> </span></o:p></span></blockquote>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: large; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">T</span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">he quote from Richard Rohr above seems to summarize Harriet Tubman’s ministry.</span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">She spent her life leading others to freedom—which one webinar participant called the “ultimate act of building community.”</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;">I took an online course on Mysticism earlier this year. In that context, we considered several individuals who are considered mystics and a set of characteristics common among them, which included:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">•<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Clear moral capacity;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">•<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Solidarity with living beings;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">•<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Deep commitment to nonviolence;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">•<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Humility;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">•<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Ongoing spiritual practice<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">•<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Ability to be a holy listener [really important skill right now!]<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">•<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Mature self-knowledge [i.e., ability to see ourselves as we really are];<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">•<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Simplicity of life;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: large; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">W</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">e could summarize all these qualities to say mystics are individuals who possess a </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><i>strong spiritual core</i></span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">Looking at this list, you may recognize some of these traits in yourself, and others in friends, family members, or coworkers.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">Does that mean that you and your friends are mystics?</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">Perhaps.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">In a sense, we </span><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">all have the capacity to be mystics.</span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small;"> (To learn more see <i><a href="http://bigalscorner.blogspot.com/2020/01/demystifying-christian-mysticism.html">Demystifying Christian Mysticism</a>.</i>)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: blue;"><i style="font-weight: normal;">“If the salvation of society depends, in the long run, on the moral and spiritual health of individuals, the subject of contemplation becomes a vastly important one, since contemplation is one of the indications of spiritual maturity. You cannot save the world merely with a <b>system</b>. You cannot have peace without charity. You cannot have social order without saints, mystics, and prophets”</i>—<b>Thomas Merton</b>.</span> </span></blockquote>
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<b><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Racism</span></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">T</span><span style="font-size: small;">he webinar participants agreed that the </span><i style="font-size: medium;">status quo</i><span style="font-size: small;"> never changes by us being “nice.”</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">In fact, the status quo counts on us being nice—and not actually doing anything meaningful to challenge unjust actions (e.g., </span><i style="font-size: medium;">individual</i><span style="font-size: small;"> racism) and especially unjust systems (e.g., </span><i style="font-size: medium;">systemic</i><span style="font-size: small;"> racism).</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;">In my previous article, I made an analogy connecting <i>planks</i>, an exercise that strengthens our physical core, to <i>spiritual practices</i> that build up our spiritual core, or capacity.<span style="font-style: normal;"> </span>In the webinar, the term used was <i>resilience</i>—which me might call “toughness”.<span style="font-style: normal;"> </span>It is the ability to recover quickly from difficulties and to endure over the long haul. <span style="font-style: normal;"> </span>This was a trait that Harriet Tubman exemplified throughout her life. and we likewise need to develop resilience if we wish to confront racism.<span style="font-style: normal;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">There’s a saying when we exercise: <i>No pain, no gain</i>. It implies that we have to be stretched in order to grow physically strong. The idea is similar with spiritual practices. </span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: large;">T</span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small;">he true value of spiritual practices emerges when we apply them to real-life situations. So, while the analogy between physical exercise and spiritual practices was good, the rubber only truly hit the road when I applied it to a real-life situation.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small;">In my article I connected the theoretical discussion to something in the headlines right now: our response to racism.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small;">And of course, when rubber makes contact with the road there is inevitably friction.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small;">My words offended some, who thought I should keep my thoughts to myself.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small;">They are entitled to their opinion—as am I.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;">The fact is, no matter how uncomfortable it makes us feel to think about in these terms, racism is a <i>sin</i>. Now, like any other sin, we don’t have to be burdened by shame and guilt over it—but we do need to confront it, name it for what it is, and then work to identify it in our lives, and then eradicate it as much as we can. That’s not going to be easy. That’s not an overnight fix; we’re going to have to have resilience. Such long-term endurance is possible only if we have what I referred to as a strong spiritual core. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Seeing Ourselves Clearly</span></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">A</span><span style="font-size: small;">uthor <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Eldredge">John Eldredge</a> talked about how one of the keys to spiritual life is our being able to, “see things as they really are.”</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">Another phrase he used is that we have to become, “alert and oriented,” to what’s really going on in the world—which I believe starts with an honest assessment of ourselves.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Racism is the elephant in America’s living room. <span style="font-style: normal;"> </span>We can try to keep ignoring it as we've done for years—but it’s not going away. It's getting harder and harder to avoid.<span style="font-style: normal;"> </span><span style="font-style: normal;"> </span>I don’t think any of us can honestly say it doesn’t impact us one way or another at this point.<span style="font-style: normal;"> </span>Maybe we wish it would just go away?<span style="font-style: normal;"> </span>Maybe it frustrates us to constantly have it talked about.<span style="font-style: normal;"> </span>Some argue that this wouldn’t be an issue if the media didn’t keep bringing it up.<span style="font-style: normal;"> </span>Some go so far as to say the message being communicated to white people by groups like <i>Black Lives Matter</i> is that “being white is sinful” and something we need to feel shame and guilt about. <b style="font-style: normal;"> <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">In my opinion, we don’t have to feel shame over being who we are, but we do need to take time to consider our own racial identity—including the fact that we actually have one as white people—and the impact that racism has had on our lives.</span></span></b><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">T</span><span style="font-size: small;">hat kind of reflection requires spiritual resilience on our part.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">We need to look beyond the obvious surface-level good/bad moral binary of individual racism to consider the deeper, more nuanced issues of systemic racism, and how it may be operating in our lives.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><b style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<i><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; text-align: center;">*********************************************</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;">L</span><span style="font-size: small;">et's consider an analogy that might be helpful. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-style: normal;">If the whole iceberg was only what could be seen above the surface the </span><span style="font-style: italic;">HMS Titanic </span>might well<span style="font-style: normal;"> be on display in a museum in Belfast today. </span></b></span><span style="font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">O</span><span style="font-size: small;">f course, what the captain and crew of </span><i style="font-size: medium;">Titanic </i><span style="font-size: small;">saw that fateful night in the North Atlantic was, literally, </span><i style="font-size: medium;">“the tip of the iceberg.” </i><span style="font-size: small;">It was the massive structure underwater—invisible to the crew until it was too late—that sliced across her hull and took down the “unsinkable ship” in a matter of hours.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Similarly, our debates over racism tend to focus on the obvious<i> individual</i> dimension of racism. Such acts (e.g., the murder of George Floyd in broad daylight by a white police officer) are almost impossible not to see and most people condemn them without hesitation. Far more insidious, however, is the <i>systemic</i> dimension of racism in our nation today. It’s a massive structure that has been built up over the past 400 years intended to maintain the status quo of white supremacy and white privilege. Systemic racism often lurks just beneath the surface of our conversations. Whether we name it or not, it’s there—and it poses a great danger to us. It is systemic racism that often slices us open gaping wounds in our societal structures and runs the risk of sinking us entirely unless we can figure out a way to effectively address it—and soon. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><i>*********************************************</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">T</span><span style="font-size: small;">he webinar lifted up another point that we need to see clearly. </span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">White people are accustomed to seeing ourselves as </span><i style="font-size: medium;">hosts</i><span style="font-size: small;">.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">That is, we invite others to come be with us—and then we expect them to become like us.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">We’re less comfortable going into a setting where we are not “in charge”—where we can’t </span><i style="font-size: medium;">control</i><span style="font-size: small;"> what will happen.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">(You might think about what it feels like to worship in an African American church, or to attend an event where it’s clear you are in the minority racially.) <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small;">To be a Christian is to be a </span><i style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">guest</i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small;">.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small;">We are now part of (Paul says </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><i>grafted into</i></span><i style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">, which evokes the imag</i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small;">e of a grapevine) Israel’s story—not the other way around as we sometimes think of it.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small;">Jesus didn’t come to replace all that happened before.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small;">He came to </span><i style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">complete</i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small;"> it and to </span><i style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">fulfill </i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small;">it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Hope</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>“Many of us feel helpless right now. Harriet Tubman shows us how to live in the helplessness doing the work of God... We are always in the hands of God. God is always holding us up... Now that the veneer of us holding ourselves up [or we might say “pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps”] maybe we can rest in the joy of a helplessness that leads us into the strength of God”</i>—<b>Willie Jennings</b>.</span></blockquote>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">L</span><span style="font-size: small;">ast—but certainly not least—the webinar focused on hope.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">Everything begins and ends with hope.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">Paul tells the Corinthians that it’s one of the enduring triad:</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">faith, </span><b style="font-size: medium;">hope</b><span style="font-size: small;">, and love.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> </span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">The webinar stressed that hope was key to Harriet Tubman’s spiritual endurance, and that she’s a role model for us, particularly as we live out our faith in the context of the twin pandemics of COVID-19 and systemic racism. </span><span style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">T</span></span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">o be clear, the kind of hope being discussed here isn’t the same as when we say, “I </span><i style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Cambria, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">hope</i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small;"> my favorite sport team wins this game,” or even, "I <i>hope</i> it rains tomorrow."</span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">That kind of hope is </span><i style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Cambria, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">passive, </i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">fleeting, and random; it requires, “getting a few lucky breaks,” to have the outcome go in our favor.</span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">No, this is</span><i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">active</span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> hope</span></i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> that expects a positive outcome—even though it may take a long time to get there, as it did for Harriet Tubman and so many others throughout history.</span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">It echoes the words of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., that </span><i style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Cambria, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">the moral arc of the universe points toward justice</i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">—even if the upward trend is nearly evident some days.</span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span></div>
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-->alanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05413930979508026433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2734996330741612787.post-58705612876096837812020-06-20T21:45:00.002-04:002020-06-20T21:53:36.150-04:00Three Simple Rules: A Daily Routine to Build Our Spiritual Core<div class="Body" style="border: none; margin: 0in 0in 6pt; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: x-large; font-style: normal;"><b>H</b></span><span style="font-size: small;"><b>ave you ever wondered <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Methodism#Origins">why we're called <i>Methodists</i></a></b>? Much like the term <i style="font-weight: normal;">Christian</i>, it began as a derogatory reference to John Wesley and his "Bible thumping" buddies at Oxford. It</span></span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small;"> seems Mr. Wesley had lots of methodical rules for the small groups (bands, classes, etc.) that formed all over England and, later, in the United States. The rules could get quite involved at times, with a whole series of questions that participants needed to answer each time they met. However, when he summarized things, he boiled them down to three essential rules.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small;">They are:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: blue; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">1)<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Do no harm;<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: blue; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">2)<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;">Do all the good you can; and<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: blue; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">3)<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--></span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: blue;">Attend the ordinances of God—that you might stay in love with God.</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: blue;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC5uFpxduzO0Pmcvklq8k7MbETHZw2wXe8Rv0yEN31xIgSS5DSXr2EXIhg4QWTzVvxpfZ7NkTOOE6yxkOc7uDZajslT0VORLN_oFeXov4A9OAYX_YBNCORIbkDKofNuX4-ygtLUnSDtP0/s1600/Three+Simple+Rules_ven+diagram.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="288" data-original-width="512" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC5uFpxduzO0Pmcvklq8k7MbETHZw2wXe8Rv0yEN31xIgSS5DSXr2EXIhg4QWTzVvxpfZ7NkTOOE6yxkOc7uDZajslT0VORLN_oFeXov4A9OAYX_YBNCORIbkDKofNuX4-ygtLUnSDtP0/s320/Three+Simple+Rules_ven+diagram.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i> The </i>Three Simple Rules<i> work together to build our spiritual core.</i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: x-large;">F</span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small;">ollowing these rules provides a good daily routine to<a href="https://bigalscorner.blogspot.com/2020/06/strengthening-our-spiritual-core.html"> strengthen our </a></span><i style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"><a href="https://bigalscorner.blogspot.com/2020/06/strengthening-our-spiritual-core.html">spiritual core</a></i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small;">.</span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small;">They train us to be able to do what needs doing when it needs to be done—which is a good definition of a</span><i style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> disciplined person</i><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small;">.</span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small;">They are simple rules—just like a plank is a simple exercise.</span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> We</span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small;"> can recite them from memory at a very young age.</span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: small;">But, like the plank exercise, the challenge comes as we try to “hold our position” for increasing amounts of time, as in over the course of a lifetime. Wesley spoke of "moving on toward perfection." While we don't achieve the goal on this side of eternity, he honestly thought a daily regimen of these three simple rules could help us make significant progress—and along the way, Methodists could make a positive impact on society for the common good of all. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Wesley’s third rule contains what I think of as the foundation for the other two: attending the<i> ordinances of God</i>. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">We could use the terms <i>spiritual practices </i>or <i>spiritual disciplines</i> interchangeably with <i>ordinances of God</i>. These are things within our power to do that allow us to tap into a Power beyond ourselves. Christ-followers practice activities like prayer, fasting, study, worship, and service, to “stay in love with God,” or to stay connected to God. In fact, many things we do in life can function as <i>ordinances of God</i>. The key is not the activity itself, but that the activity helps us create space in our life for God to act, with the result being that we are drawn closer to God. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
alanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05413930979508026433noreply@blogger.com0