Closing Out the Year with Praise

At the end of the longest book of the Bible--a compilation over centuries, covering just about every human emotion and experience one can imagine--the Psalms conclude with a simple, all-encompassing song of praise. All instruments, all planes of existence, everything that has breath, ends up praising the Lord.

I have a complicated relationship with praise. Too often it seems disingenuous: emotional manipulation. Wallpapering over how you really feel in favor of happier, prettier, sunnier sentiments. That's not what praise is supposed to be.

I was a teenager when the show "Daria" was on MTV. In her sharp, cynical sarcasm, I found a kindred spirit: a person who sees through the pretenses and false optimism all around her. I, too, was the kid at the "pep rallies" in high school, surrounded by classmates whipped into an energetic frenzy, wondering, "what's the point?"

Imagine my surprise as a sarcastic smart-aleck of a 16-year-old, to see myself today, as an adult mentor for a music team of teenagers for Lutheran youth events in our synod, who lead hundreds of their peers in loud, enthusiastic praise: "Praise the Lord with the Trumpet Sound!"...
  

It's interesting to me that Christian music led by guitars, drums, bass and keyboards is so often classified as "Praise music." Firstly, I've known some organists who can praise the Lord like no other! And secondly, if we're trying to lead God's people in worship, we need to speak other languages than the language of praise. If all we ever sing are happy, "Tradin' My Sorrows," "Jesus is my boyfriend" style songs, then our praise does indeed ring hollow. 

Precisely what I love about the collection of the psalms is that it does express a wide range of human emotions. Despair, rage, love, anticipation, longing, lament, impatience, relief, and awe sit side by side, in a colorful mural of the human experience much wider than what we tend to express on Sunday morning, whether you're singing traditional hymns or "praise" music. That's one reason I love being part of a congregation that reads the psalms out loud together each week, even when the sentiments expressed there are not considered part of "polite" conversation. 

In a year that has been quite a roller coaster--both for our society as a whole and for me personally--it is an interesting thing to finish with praise. There have certainly been days of "How Long, O Lord?" and of "Deliver me, Lord." There have been days of "Have mercy on me, O Lord", and "What are mortals, O Lord, that you take notice of them?" And because we know how hard and frustrating and miserable life can be, it gives depth to our praise. When we know how cruel and fickle and selfish humans can be, we lift God's name all the higher, knowing only God can save us. We praise differently in the hard years than in the easy years, because praise is not the same thing as being happy with our situation. Praise is acknowledging God as the One from whom all good things come, who is making all things new, whether or not we always feel or see the newness. 

And so, on the last day of 2016, I praise the Lord. I join the firmament, and the lute and the harp, and the trumpet,  the tambourine and dance, and everything that breathes, and I praise God, not because I am always happy, but because however I'm feeling, God is still good. 

God, you are good, and I praise you now and every day. I praise you for the good things you have brought into my life this year, and for the good things that are coming next year. I praise you because in the hard times you have been with me, through friends and people I love, and through your Word which moves my heart. I praise you, Lord, because I have breath in my lungs, and even that is a gift from you. Today and every day, I praise you. 

  

Acts 8:18-25. Real power can't be bought.

In this chapter, Simon Magus (a purveyor of magic tricks for profit) attempts to buy the Holy Spirit's power from the apostles and is rebuffed rather harshly. God's power can't be bought. 

Here's a word that has fallen out of fashion: Simony. Named after Simon Magus, it refers to the (mostly medieval) practice of purchasing church offices and titles with money or large donations. In a time when succession of nobility and kingdoms was through the oldest son, often the second, third and fourth born children were shuttled off to prestigious arhcbishoprics and such, which often went to the highest bidder. Dante's Inferno includes a whole sub-section of Hell for this grievous sin. 

Seems like a pretty remote historical problem. Today, I know many Christians who would be more likely to pay NOT to have a role of great responsibility in the church than pay TO have one. 

And yet...Have we ever in our hearts thought about the direction our church is going, and thought, "You know, I'm a pretty big contributor here, so they should really think about listening to my ideas." Or even thought about the length of your tenure as member of your congregation, or how many volunteer hours you've logged, as a measurement of how much influence you "deserve"? It's an ugly thought, but isn't that the same thing, with different currency? Trying to "buy" influence over the direction of a church, either with your offerings, time or talents? 

The church belongs to God. That's true whether we've been there one year, or a hundred. We serve and we give, not to get anything in return, but because serving and giving is what disciples of Jesus do: it's the only way to live a meaningful life. In God's church, everybody's voice counts. Everyone should feel free to share what God lays on their hearts. But we exist not to serve our longest term members or our biggest givers, but the world God loves. 

God, thank you for the blessing of serving. Amen. 

Acts 6:8-7:3. Stephen vs. Fake News.

Well, congratulations Stephen. You are a person to be reckoned with. The evidence is clear: your opponents are making up fake news about you. Religious leaders have "secretly instigated" some men to make public accusations of blasphemy against you, saying you're dissing Moses and God and claiming Jesus will destroy the temple. Now, like any disciple of Jesus, what you'll do next is clear: stand up and tell the truth in front of everyone about what you really do believe. Confront lies with truth. Only, it may not work out in the way you're hoping...

It's not a new problem. Humankind and that 8th commandment (the one about not bearing false witness) ... We've never been that close. In fact you could say we're estranged. 

Especially in this era of social media, where we are more and more responsible for what our friends see and believe to be true, we as people of faith need to take a stand for honesty...And the really bad news about that is that Luther's advice was not just to not openly lie about those with whom we disagree (and yes, posting an article based on a headline that "feels" true, without reading it, is lying), but also to "come to their defense and interpret their actions in the best possible light." Boring. No fun. And yet, following the example of the apostles. It's about listening at least as much as we speak. It's about answering lies with facts and truth instead of our own lies. It's about holding ourselves and those we agree with to every bit as high of a standard as those with whom we disagree. It's about being willing to come off as gruff or impolite for not accepting falsehoods and prejudices, not laughing them off, but shining the light of Christ into their faces. And yes, hoping it works out better for us than for Stephen. But being ready to accept our lot if it doesn't. 

Prayer: Lord Jesus, receive my Spirit. Form it in your image of truth. Amen. 

2 Kings 18: The Darkness is Real

After watching town after town fall to the Assyrians, Jerusalem is under siege. The Assyrian king sends what can best be described as a minister of propaganda, to speak to the people--in their own native tongue--about how it's over, and God will not deliver them. Time to give up hope. Nobody is coming to their rescue. 

I can't read this today and not think of Aleppo. How no one is coming to their rescue. How the horrific suffering of so many innocent people now seems impossible to avoid. How people of good conscience are watching this long night of suffering, wishing we could offer something more than our prayers, and finding precious little. Maybe there was some way America could have intervened, that would have done more good than harm. Maybe not. But for most ordinary people, the horrifying reality is that the best we can do is not turn away, but wait and watch through this long, dark night. 

We are entering a season of light. For thousands of years, ancient cultures celebrated the winter solstice (tomorrow night), though it is the longest, darkest night of the year, because on that night, the tide turns, and the light slowly comes back. After tomorrow, the days will get longer again. Symbolically, it's understandable that Christians in the Northern Hemisphere chose this time to also celebrate the coming of the Light of the World: Jesus. 

While it is true that darkness isn't actually a "thing"--it's simply the absence of light--it is a very palpable thing in the lives of many people. We know it is only as real as our experience of it; as real as we make it. And yet anyone who has spent time there knows that can be very real indeed. There are some nights when the miracle of Christmas--"The people who walked in darkness have seen a great Light"--is something we can speak with our mouths, and understand in our heads, but not necessarily feel with our hearts. Some nights are just long, and dark, and the help you pictured just isn't forthcoming. But no dark night is endless. No winter lasts forever.

Christian hope is not founded in the idea that everything is okay because Jesus was born. In fact, Christian hope allows us the profound freedom to admit how deeply not okay things really are. If we were alone in the dark, we would have to do all sorts of mental gymnastics to convince ourselves that it really isn't that dark, after all, and we're really okay, you're fine, I'm fine, Syria's fine, everything's fine, because it has to be. Reality would be too hard to face alone. But because we are not alone here, because the Word has been made flesh in this dark world, we have one who will sit with us and allow us some deep moments of not being okay, and the faint glimmer of some sense that one day, it will be.

Christ, dwell with us in our darkness. Help us to call it what it is, and hand it over to you, to make it what it will be. Amen.

Psalm 144, They Are Like a Breath...

Psalms often use poetic language to muse about why God would make such a big deal of such a small, fragile, short-lived species as humanity. "What are human beings that you regard them?"

What always amazes me is they didn't know the half of it. The ancient world was a lot smaller, and seemed a lot younger, than we now know it to be. To think that the universe is inconceivably vast, and almost 14 billion years old, and we get maybe 80 or 90 years maximum, just in this one tiny spot, gives the psalm a whole new meaning. And yet God does regard us. God thinks of us. God envisioned the tiny, microscopic blip of a detail that is your life and the lives of everyone you know, and decided this universe isn't complete without them. Honestly, it's a bit of a comfort to me sometimes to know my smallness: to know that, try as I might, I can only mess up so much. And yet God's story of creation and redemption allows for and invites those mess-ups. We get to be part of this vastness and beauty. It is us. Wow.

God...Wow. Amen. 

Acts 4:1-12 Staying On Message

First century Jews didn't have much concept of Deja Vu, but if they did, Peter and John's situation would be pretty scary. Here they are, spending the night in custody for proclaiming a message about resurrection...much like their teacher had, the night before he was crucified. It might even have been the same prison in Jerusalem. Having been to the traditional site of Caiaphas' house, where it is believed Jesus was kept, trust me, it's no place to get a good night's sleep. But up they get the next morning, out in front of the council.

But even here, Peter stays on message, giving pretty much the same sermon he's already given 3 or 4 times. "None of this is my doing, all this good stuff is happening by the name of Jesus, whom you religious leaders crucified, but who rose and who is our salvation." 

I am often tempted to stray from the simple message of Jesus. It's so easy to get distracted, to crave some more "relevant" word that'll give us what we want instead of what we need: the "Christian" way to manage your marriage, your kids, your finances, the "Christian" way to fight for social justice against racism, colonialism and patriarchy. Those are all hugely important things, don't get me wrong. But when we place them at the top of our "to do list" in sharing a Christian witness, ahead of telling the story of what Jesus has done, they become another law we can't fulfill, another despairing story of our utter inability to save ourselves. Instead, like Peter, I want to try being boring for a while. I want to have enough trust in the story I have to tell, that I simply tell it, over and over, like a broken record, and let the Holy Spirit make the connections in the hearts and souls of those listening. To actually trust that my listeners have a conscience, too, and they can process the implications of this story in their own lives and place in society better than I can process it for them. I'd like to think if I spent the night in jail for that, that I wouldn't change course afterward.

God, keep me on message. Keep me telling your story, and let that story rhyme with my story and the story of others however you will it. Amen.

Acts 3:11-27 Times of Refreshing

Observation: Peter and John, after Jesus' Resurrection and the mass conversions of Pentecost, heal a physically disabled man in the temple. When an astonished crowd gathers, Peter addresses them all, giving glory to God and retelling the story of Jesus. He exhorts all people to repent--lead a changed life--because Jesus is returning to bring "times of refreshing" and "universal restoration." 

God's kingdom, as understood by Jesus and his disciples, was a very physical thing. The healing they did together was not simply proof that they were doing God's work. It was the work itself.  Jesus' resurrection was not a one-time thing, but God's intention for all humankind: restored to life, with real, tangible bodies, freed from all the ailments which cause pain. The "universal restoration" and times of refreshing Peter mentions are to happen here on earth: all creation restored to the way God always intended it to be. 

Application: As I think about this for my own life, I think about the "refresh" button on my web browser. You know, the one you hit when things freeze up, or aren't loading properly. It's risky, because it's supposed to restore the page you're looking at to its original form, which means any work or information you typed in would be gone. 

We need God to hit the "refresh" button on our lives, our world, our creation. We cannot afford to get so attached to our achievements and "progress" that we are resistant to that resetting when it happens. In this season of waiting, we can practice, by letting go of a few things now--either physical things or ideas--to remind ourselves that all things are impermanent except God.

God, hit the refresh button. Come to us and save us from our so-called "progress". Amen.

Psalm 141: Substitute Incense

This is definitely in my top 5 favorite Psalms. I probably know it best from the order for Evening Prayer, either from the Lutheran Book of Worship or Holden Village. But these words are not a calming, sleepytime prayer for the end of the day. They call for quick and urgent help from God, from someone whose situation does not allow them to get down to the Jerusalem Temple to offer incense, as they would normally do. They ask that this prayer be the substitute for the evening sacrifice. When times are dire, you pray however you can. 

Sometimes you just don't have time to come up with exactly the right prayer for the right moment, especially when you're panicking. That's why the Psalms are such a treasure. When there is no time or extra mental space for a new, creative, worship to address the situation at hand, when you don't have the time to run bulletins and recruit ushers and acolytes, you still have something more potent: songs of worship, inspired by God, written by faithful people stumbling through life just like we are, and sometimes panicking. When you don't have incense, you have their prayers. 

God, when my creativity and imagination fails me, thank you for writing these words on my heart: "Let my prayer rise before you as incense; the lifting up of my hands as the evening sacrifice."

2 Kings 6:24-7:20 "Could such a thing happen?"

This story is heart-wrenching. King Ben-Hadad of Aram lays siege to Samaria and cuts off its food supply. The famine becomes so desperate that two women in the town agree to eat one another's children. When the second woman goes back on her promise, she involves the king of Israel, who tears his clothes that things have gotten so bad. He lays blame on the prophet Elisha, and calls for his head...literally. But Elisha has words of hope: tomorrow by this time, the famine will be over. But the captain of the guard has the reaction most of us would have: "Yeah, right!" Where is an entire army going to go overnight? And where is all that food going to come from? "Even if the Lord were to make windows in the sky, could such a thing happen?" It's a rhetorical question, of course. There are tons of those in the Bible. The assumed answer, of course, is "no."

But sure enough, the Lord causes the sound of mighty chariots to "spook" the Aramean army, and inexplicably, they bolt, leaving all their equipment and food behind. Samaria is saved...except for the captain, who gets trampled to death by the people. 

I am really relating to the captain today. So often I tend to be more risk averse, the one to overthink things, the one sitting and asking, "Could such a thing happen?" Not that I'm not a dreamer: I spend a lot of time dreaming. But to have enough faith in a dream to actually share it with others, and invite them onboard, and invest some resources, and roll the dice, knowing it could backfire, but also knowing we serve a wonder-working God who can create something out of nothing, order out of chaos, life out of death...that's another thing again.

Too often, when we get a vision we think might be from God, we are so freaked out by it that we can't even look at it objectively. Really now, what is the worst possible scenario if we tried this? And more importantly, what is the best case, assuming it is from God, and it works? If we can even follow the Holy Spirit that far--and that is hard--we would be much less a people of "Could such a thing happen?" and much more a people known for scanning the sky for those windows, and often being the first to find them. 

God, at this point I would love to at least have momentary breaks from the fear and the doubt. But I know as I type that you want me to want more. So show me. Help me, and others who trust in you, not to scoff at windows in the sky, but rather muse about which one you'll open next. Amen.

Psalm 140:1-5. Deliver Me, O Lord...

Observation: this is a pretty standard "deliverance psalm", in which the author asks God's help from attackers. Because it's attributed to David, your imagination can plug in lots of stories for reference. It could be about Goliath, Saul, the Philistines in general, even his son Absalom. One size fits all. But David trusts that God will be the one to resolve the situation. 

Application: I can't help thinking about Pearl Harbor today reading this psalm. Even after 75 years, it's made an indelible mark on the American psyche: a day that truly has lived in infamy. 

In the mid 1980s, when I was 5, my family went to Japan. I don't remember much, but to hear my parents tell it, traveling with three fair skinned blonde American toddlers in Tokyo was like being celebrities. One guy literally gave us free toys. What a difference a couple of generations makes. 

When I think today about "evildoers," "those who are violent, who plan evil things in their minds and stir up Wars continually", it's true, a few images come to mind. Terrorists. ISIS. Crazed dictators like Kim Jong Un or Bashar Al Assad. But more than that, what scares me is the violent spirit that is always under the surface right here in America. In our 240 year history, our country has only spent a handful of decades not at war. Our current president has spent his entire 8 year tenure at war. It has almost become background noise: the air we breathe as 21st century Americans. And from that apathy and desensitization, we truly need deliverance. 

Lord, deliver us from evil doers, especially when the evil doers are ourselves. Be with all who celebrate this solemn day of remembrance as the day which plunged us into bloody conflict. Let us remember so as not to repeat. Let peace begin with me. Amen.

Psalm 139:17-24. Surprise Ending.

The problem with Psalms is they're way too honest. They're not just pretty pictures of how we want to feel about God and our neighbor. No, they're a little more like how we actually feel. So in this beautiful psalm about how well God knows the psalmist, how God knows her/his thoughts before they even appear, what better place to be real: "Oh, that you would kill the wicked...I hate them with a perfect hatred..." Yeesh. 

Today being Saint Nicholas Day, this has me thinking about an "incident" Bishop Nicholas of Myra had with Arius, an Egyptian theologian, at the Council of Nicaea (where we developed the Nicene Creed). Arius believed that Jesus had not always been divine, but rather had been "adopted" by God at his baptism. And he argued his case so forcefully and passionately that Nicholas, being a passionate guy himself, well...socked him. Right in the face. Not a proud moment. He was thrown in jail and his role as Bishop was in question. As the story goes, those leading the Council all had a vision of Jesus and Mary reinstating Nicholas, otherwise his future would be in doubt. As we know, Nicholas' doctrine, that Christ has always been divine, won the day. 

I think we do a real disservice to Scripture, and to the church, if we try to make excuses for anything that's said or done by people we admire. I love Psalm 139. I do not love the ending. I do not think it's appropriate for Christians to "hate" anyone, even if we think our hatred is "a perfect hatred", and we're really doing God a solid by hating the "right" people for the "right" reasons. Does that mean I should self-censor and never read or talk about Psalm 139? Nope.

I also don't think punching heretics solves anything. If anything, it proves that my position is weak, I'm losing the debate, and I'm out of options. Does that mean Nicholas was a bad guy and we shouldn't teach our kids about him? Gosh, I hope not. 

The whole point of having "a cloud of witnesses" is not to have perfect paragons of faith who never mess up. The point is they DO mess up, a lot, and God uses them anyway. And God can use us too.

God, thank you for misguided psalmist's and Bishop's with anger management issues. Thank you for grace. Thank you for reminding us we're not perfect and don't have to be. Thanks for saving us and using us for your work despite ourselves. Amen.

Psalm 139. You Have Searched Me and Known Me.

God knows me. Not humans in general, but me. Not even me in general, but each word before I speak it. Each thought before I think it. This creates the classic "Free Will Paradox": If God already knows what I'll say before I say it, am I free to say something different, and surprise God, or am I bound and destined to do only what God knows I'll do? Or does God know all the likely outcomes, but not which one I will choose? I'm with the Psalmist in saying, "Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is do high that I cannot attain it."

I have good friends who are fervent on both sides of this debate. Some believe strongly that our lives are meaningless unless we have free will. Others say, taking into account the laws of physics, physiology, culture, human psychology, there is no escaping that our lives will unfold a certain way. The Bible seems to assume free will in some places, and in others, like in this Psalm, determinism wins the day. Luther tended toward the latter: he even wrote a tract called "The Bondage of the Will", against the arguments of Erasmus' "On Free Will." However, even a cursory glance at the Small Catechism shows he still clearly encouraged Christians to behave as if they have free will, whether or not that's the case.

To be honest, I feel way too much ink has been spilled on this question, which is essentially unanswerable. It's like saying, "There's a pair of sneakers, on Mars, buried 20 feet underground: are they red or blue?" You can have very strong opinions either way, but you are unlikely to convince the other side, and there is really no practical way to definitively find out.

But unlike "the sneaker question," the question of free will is almost impossible to avoid in our daily lives. It is a basic, fundamental part of who we are, which remains a mystery. But as a person of faith, knowing we are never going to know for sure, I think more important than proving the question one way or the other is to ask, "Why do I want to know today?"

When I am feeling depressed and apathetic, ready to give up on caring for my neighbor because my actions don't matter anyway, the Holy Spirit shows me Moses' command to Choose life, and reminds me that we always have a choice. But when I'm feeling puffed up, secure in my choices and maybe even forgetting how much of my life is the way it is because of God's blessing, then Paul's words to the Romans about willing one thing and doing another are just what I need to hear.

While the argument can rage on in other parts of our lives, one thing we hold as an article of faith is that, free will or no, we are not capable of saving ourselves. Whatever amount of free will we do or don't have finds its limits at the foot of the cross, the mirror which shows us that we are captive to sin, and cannot free ourselves. But God does what we can't do: God saves us.

God, thank you for knowing me, for creating me, for caring about me and loving me. Amen.      

John 20:10-23 "They Have Taken My Lord Away..."

Garden tomb, Jerusalem. Photo credit: Guy Davis

Mary Magdalene stands at Jesus' empty tomb, convinced that someone has taken Jesus' body away. If so, the reason why can not be good. Understandably, Mary is enraged. Wasn't it enough that they kill him? Do they have to defile his body as well? When will this nightmare be over? Mary is so shocked and furious that she does not recognize the two angels at the tomb, or even Jesus himself. She can't see past the trauma. "They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him." Not until Jesus calls her by name does a new possibility emerge: maybe he really is alive!

It's honestly hard to put myself in Mary's place. Thankfully, I have never been put through a trauma nearly as severe as watching my best friend be tortured to death unjustly. It is hard to imagine the sense of violation that even having lost the dignity of burial--losing the one last bit of control, of honor you have the power to provide--would bring. For someone in a situation like that, a calm, rational approach will not do. To diminish the lived experience of people who are hurting, and question it, asking "Woman, why are you weeping?" will not do.  Asking them to "calm down", assuming that whatever they're going through, it can't be as bad as what they say, simply because we ourselves can't relate, is wrong.
Some pain can only be understood by God. It is only the One who hung on the cross who can call Mary's name, and meet her where she is. Our task, for the Mary's in our lives, is to listen and believe their stories.
Lord, many in our world feel as though you have been taken away from them, and laid where they can't find you. Call them by name. When we, too, are blinded by shock and rage, call us. Amen.

1 Kings 22, and Those Annoying Prophets

The kings of Judah and Israel are considering going to war with their neighbor, Aram, but first, they want to check in with God, by asking their prophets. All the prophets give the advice to go ahead, because they will win. All, that is... except Micaiah. King Ahab wants king Jehosaphat "Look, you can ask him, but it's always doom and gloom with this guy. I never get a favorable word." Sure enough, they ask Micaiah, and he's the one dissenting voice: "I saw all Israel scattered on the mountains." For his trouble, Micaiah gets thrown into prison.

We humans have such a hard time receiving honest feedback. The truth hurts. We tend to shoot the messenger. We tend to want to surround ourselves with "positive people," meaning people who won't question what we want to do. Criticism is not welcome. It's ironic to me that Micaiah, the one person unwilling to deceive these kings, is the one who bears their wrath.

There's no other way to say it: prophets can be annoying. They can be brash, sanctimonious and intentionally rude. But we ignore them at our peril. They will never substitute a pleasant lie for an unpleasant truth, even though it rarely gains them friends. They need our prayers, and our listening ears. God made them that way for a reason.

God, thank you for prophets. Empower them in their truth-telling, for the good of your kingdom. Amen.

John 19:25-37 "Here is your Mother."

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It's really strange to read about the death of Jesus in the Daily Texts during Advent. Most of the Sunday readings from the prophets speak of a glorious king to come: the Prince of Peace, who will beat swords into plowshares. the Carols we hear in this season speak of a newborn king, "sleeping in heavenly peace." Not even so much as a crying infant--the most natural thing in the world--disturbs our idealized image of the baby Jesus. 

But one day, Jesus' life will end in tragedy: a trauma so etched into the minds of his followers that it is the most detailed and consistent memory re-told in all four Gospels. 

Yet even in the midst of that pain, Jesus takes time to care for others. He speaks words to unite his Mother, who rocked him to sleep as a baby, and the Beloved disciple, the only one to stay at the cross, as family. "Here is your mother. Here is your son." 

Advent is a good time to remember this declaration from Jesus: all who commit to grieving together are indeed family. This season, you will probably meet at least one person for whom the hopeful expectation of this season is more than just a nice idea: it's a lifeline. The only way they can bear the pain and grief of today. You may even recall a time when you were that person. Maybe you're even there now. If so, you are not alone. In parents grieving alongside you, you have a parent. In children grieving with you, you have a child. The community that gathers not around an idealized manger scene, but at the foot of the cross, will never lack for brothers, sisters, fathers and mothers. If your holiday season is shaping up to be a painful one, we invite you to join us there. Child, here is your family. 

Jesus, thank you for taking on flesh, knowing that to live in flesh is to know pain. Emanuel, thank you for being so resolutely with us that even death could not separate us. Be our hope in this dark season. Make us family. Amen.

Psalm 133. How Very Good.

This is probably the shortest psalm, and it's one of my favorites. All it is is one simple affirmation: being together, physically and emotionally, is good. And then the psalmist compares this good thing with other good things: a nice beard oil, the morning dew on a mountain. It's just good.

Such a perfect sentiment as I get ready to be with extended family for Thanksgiving. I am hungry, not just in body, but in my soul, for the blessed time of conversation, of catching up, of chilling out, of playing with cousins and nieces and nephews, that Thanksgiving brings.  Being together is good.

I know all too well that there's plenty to be concerned about this Thanksgiving. More than one person has noted the irony of celebrating this holiday which boded so ill for Native Americans, during the largest protest movement of Native Americans in a generation: while protesters are being sprayed with water cannons in freezing cold temperatures.

It's also true that Thanksgiving will be a tense time for many, in the wake of a contentious election season on which many families will be divided. Already strained relationships may be tested, and for many today, the goal will be just to "get through it."

Being together is not always easy. But it is always good. It is always necessary. It's just as easy to starve your soul as it is your body, and that won't do any good at all for the people and causes you care about.

The Holiday season (Advent, for us Jesus types) is a long, hard slog in a lot of ways. Just bracketing out the din of consumerism and false expectations is going to take all you've got. Just trying to love your neighbor when the whole world is screaming in your ear to love yourself, will take all you've got. It's really not the kind of work you want to set to on an empty stomach...or an empty soul.

So to those looking forward to this weekend, who will be filled up by it, I pray you can savor it. And for those just hoping to get through it mostly in one piece, I'll be praying for you too...for patience, but also that the feast you need will come find you, and people who feed your soul will surround you. We all need it so badly. Being together is good.

Dear God, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Amen.

John 17:20-26. Up, In, Out.

On the last night of his earthly life, Jesus prays for his disciples, and for all who will come to believe through their testimony (which includes you and me), that they would be one, just as Jesus and his father are one. His vision is that the relationship of Christians to one another would mirror his own relationship to his Father: that the Church would be molded and influenced by the Triune life, unique persons, one in purpose.

I may be reaching the point where my congregation is tired of hearing this, but if we want to be "disciples" of Jesus, we need to model our lives after his. Jesus' life was one of balance in relationships: "Up," with his Father, "In", with his disciples, and "Out", with the world. If one of those three were out of whack, all three would suffer. His unity with his Father wasn't placed on a pedestal above his love for his friends, nor his constant efforts to connect with those who did not yet know him. His prayer for each of us was the same: that we would be unified with each other and with the Father, in order to truly love the world like he does. 

Of course, nobody does this perfectly. We'll have different specialties, and different weaknesses. We'll have seasons where we are working harder on one than the others. But this triangle laid out in Scripture is a helpful tool to look at our own lives and the lives of our churches. 

Jesus, make us more like you. Connect us to one another, to you, and to the world. Show us the opportunities you place before us every day. Amen.

1 Kings 12:26-12:24. Lead by Listening.

Observation: Well, the winning streak had to end sometime. After two successive generations of unity and prosperity, founded by David's ambition and enriched by Solomon's wisdom, we get Solomon's son Rehoboam. Jeroboam comes with all Israel and asks Rehoboam to lighten their taxes and forced labor. Rehoboam's most seasoned advisors say "Yeah, we think you'd better do it." Who needs seasoned advisors anyway? Nobody tells Rehoboam what to do. So he does the opposite. More taxes. Increased penalties. The other ten tribes revolt. Goodbye, United Kingdom. Nice while it lasted...

Application: Yeesh. Leadership fail. I see many parallels in the news here, but they could get me into trouble, and the bottom line is they wouldn't be that edifying anyway. Scripture is not there to point out the foibles of others. We do a pretty good job at that on our own. Scripture is there to help us see the log in our own eye, not the speck in our neighbor's. So here it is. 

We have each acted like Rehoboam before. We have heard honest, candid feedback from people we are working with, people who have been around the block once or twice, and know the terrain. And we have utterly dismissed it. They're just out of touch. They don't understand what we're trying to do. They're just whiners. They won't be happy no matter what I do. This is my time now. I was tasked with leadership, not them. Forget them. 

Here's the thing: if you've ever been in the position of having to give honest feedback to a leader or a boss who may react negatively, you know: people do not do this lightly. It takes a lot of courage and gumption to speak the truth to power, and if it were not a big deal, you wouldn't bring it up. 

So I'm speaking to myself as much as anyone else in leadership when I say: we need to listen. Really, truly listen. Not nod your head and wait for the other person to stop talking so you can tell them why you're right. But actually create a space in your mind and heart for their experience. Think about what it must have taken for them to come to you in the first place. And honor their commitment. 

The words you hear may not change your course of action. It may be that you will still need to do what you were planning to do. But you will do it differently, knowing its impact on others. And you will be ready to bear with them and offer more support and care for them through it. In human kingdoms there are winners and losers, some get their way and others don't. In God's kingdom, the way we look for together is God's way. And the whole creation wins.

Prayer. God, open our ears. Help us listen for what is said and what isn't. Make us bold, to actively ask for the feedback we know will hurt. Help us place your mission above our shoes and our feelings. Amen.

John 15:18-16:4 The Reality Check

Observation: On the night of his arrest, Jesus is trying to prepare his disciples to be hated in the same way he is hated.

Application: Christians have been badly in need of a reality check for some centuries now. The fact is, our faith was never designed to dominate public life or public policy. To use the language of the Gospel of John, Jesus did not expect his disciples to "belong to the World". That was not part of their mission. In fact, for the sake of his mission, Jesus has pulled his disciples "out of the World", to be "hated by the World." But this has not actually been the case for many centuries. Christians--at least Christians in name--have been running "the World" for almost 1700 years, since the Roman Emperor Constantine converted and made it illegal not to be Christian in his kingdom. And I'll lay out some prophetic truth here...Christians have had it pretty cushy since then. I, for one, do not count it as "hatred" from the world that Starbucks holiday cups are not the right color, or that retail employees say "happy holidays" and not "merry Christmas", or even that in the recent presidential race, neither candidate perfectly embodied every Christian value in an obvious way.

This may seem counter-intuitive, but I think it's true: Christians may be entering an era more like that of the first Christians, in which it is more possible to exercise an authentic faith, because it is a counter-cultural faith. In this time, we may face not just loss of prominence and worldly power, but real hatred from the world--and like Jesus, we may be called to bear a hatred meant for others.

Prayer: Jesus, get us ready. Help us to be authentically yours, not the World's. Help us to value your witness and your way over human ways. Let us be able to bear the hatred of the world, the way you did. Amen. 

1 Kings 9:20-10:29. Conspicuous Consumption

Observation: Solomon was RICH. Wealthy beyond the wildest dreams of most of his subjects. As with other rulers of the time, Solomon's wealth included people: slaves, from other nations.
Application: I have an uncomfortable relationship with wealth when I read about it in the Bible. Even though in the Old Testament, it often is seen as a sign of God's blessing --Abraham, Jacob, Joseph, Boaz, and of course Solomon were all very wealthy --Jesus' words ring in my head, "Woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation." And I think about my own life...by modern American standards, part of that ever-shrinking middle class. But by global and historic standards, still enormously privileged and wealthy. And if I start to feel superior about where my wealth comes from, thinking "at least I worked hard to earn this," I remember how much of what I have--from the produce in my refrigerator, to the very phone on which I'm typing this --is likely to have come to me through at least one person in the supply chain who is not making a living wage. Forced labor was an accepted practice in the ancient world, but we kid ourselves if we think it has completely gone away. Solomon probably slept fairly well on his silk sheets. I'm not doing as well on my flannel ones.

Prayer: O Lord, have mercy. This world is so hopelessly complex. Any semblance of clean hands, of moral purity, is an illusion. Teach me how to take steps to love the neighbors I will never meet, in how I shop, consume, and give thanks for what I have. Amen.

John 14:25-15:8. On Abiding and Fruitfulness

Observation: Jesus tells his disciples they can not bear any fruit or do any good thing without being connected to him: abiding. 

Application: This is a key text and concept in Mike Breen's "Building a Discipling Culture", a book that has been influencing everything I do as a pastor and as a believer of late. 

One key "life shape" described is the semi-circle: a two-sided pendulum swinging between "abiding", or resting in God's presence, and "fruitfulness", or work for God's kingdom. We may be familiar with this as a weekly rhythm, trying to take a Sabbath Day each week. In fact, it is also a daily rhythm, with times for work, play, and sleep. It extends out to seasons of the year--there needs to be an abiding season--and even seasons of our life, where we need to focus on being a "human being", not a "human doing." 

The important thing to know about abiding is Jesus' statement, "apart from me you can do nothing." If we ignore the rhythm and never abide in Jesus, not only will we be less effective in what we do, but we'll be less likely to be doing what we're called to do in the first place. The old cliché, "a manager does things right, and a leader does the right things", holds true. You can't be either one unless you abide. 

It's important to remember that anything we can do, God can get done without our efforts. But we are blessed by the invitation to help. We don't work in order to "earn" our rest. We rest to remember why we work.

Prayer: God, we're looking down the barrel of a frantic season. "The Holidays" can really make mincemeat out of our abiding rhythm. Give us silent moments. Give us the kind of peace only you can give. Fill those moments with expectant hope. Amen. 

John 13:31-38. Look for Us Out There.

Observation: Jesus is about to be betrayed, arrested, and die a painful death. Yet he does not preach revenge or retribution. He preaches love.
Application: The fear, hatred, and division we are seeing in our nation did not start Nov. 9. It has been years of recriminations, of thinking the worst of one another, of pointing out every minor flaw in the "other" side and completely overlooking the major flaws on our "own" side. But it certainly isn't getting better on its own.

Christian, this didn't get this way yesterday. The world is already full of hurting people. People looking for safe places, where they will feel accepted. Jesus has said that they will be able to find us. They will come to us for comfort and peace. IF...they see us loving one another. If they look in our direction and see us speaking not just in behalf of ourselves, but on behalf of others. Maybe others who we haven't met yet, or will never meet. Others who may not even be born for many years. If they see us telling each other not just what we want to hear, but what they need to hear. If they see us being patient and kind and humble even when we know others around us won't do the same. That's how they will know that we are worth talking to. That there's actually something to this Jesus movement. That there really must be such thing as a Holy Spirit. If we love, not just with feelings or words, but with actions.
God, to love on the scale this world needs is daunting. I can't do it. I need your help. Show me the next little loving action I can take today. Help me take it one day at a time. Amen.

Psalm 122: For the Sake of My Relatives and Friends

Photo credit: Guy Davis 

Observation: Another Psalm of Ascent, written for the joyful journey into Jerusalem for Temple Worship.

Application: A year ago at this time, I was there. We stood in an old Jewish cemetery on the Mount of Olives, and looked down on the 3,000 year old city where David reigned, and Solomon built, and where Jesus taught, died and rose. And we spoke this psalm: "Pray for the peace of Jerusalem...Peace be within your walls...for the sake of my relatives and friends I will say, "Peace be with you."
Entering the city, not all was peaceful. Every other block was occupied d by Israeli soldiers: teenagers with automatic weapons. There were stabbings in the city during our time there. Riot gear was on display as we entered the Old City, probably less to intimidate wrongdoers than to set at ease Western tourists.
And yet, as you walk the city, history overwhelms you. How many catastrophes has it outlived? How many Wars and rumors of Wars? How many times have its citizens sheltered in place, sure this must be the end? And yet it stands.
This brings me peace today. For the sake of my relatives and friends in faith--Jewish, Muslim and Christian --i still pray for the peace of Jerusalem.
And for their sake, I continue to pray for peace with justice in my own land. I pray for peace that's more than peace and quiet for some and an ongoing, silent assault for others. I pray for peace that means opportunity and quality of life for all. As long as the City--and my city--stands, for their sake I pray for peace.
Prayer: God, I pray for peace in Jerusalem and in Palestine and Israel. I pray for peace in my own land. Not peace through domination and intimidation, but peace through listening. Raise up people of peace in this next generation, to speak out and listen closely, that ALL your children may have peace. Amen.

Psalm 121: God of Insomniacs

Observation: this is a "psalm of ascent," meant to be sung on the journey "to the hills" of Jerusalem for temple worship. It was a dangerous journey: the roads were full of wild animals and bandits. Travelers turned to God for protection.

Application: My thoughts are all over the map right now. I only got a couple good hours of sleep, and I worry future nights may not hold much more. But this psalm reminds me that God works the night shift: when everyone else is resting comfortably, and it's down to just me and my worries, I'm not alone. God does not slumber. God does not sleep. God is on the job, all the time. As much of a mess as we humans can make of the world, at some point we have to pass out and take a break from our idiocy. God doesn't take breaks. Advantage: God. No matter the hour, God is sitting with us in our worry, healing us in our brokenness, working good from our mistakes. The one watching over us does not so much as blink an eye. It may not always feel like it, but God's got this. God's got you.
Prayer: God, give me rest. May we rest in you, and wake to love our neighbors even better. Amen.

Psalm 120: I am for peace

Observation: the psalmist is weary of living in a foreign land, where honesty and peace are not valued.

Application: My heart can't help but go to politics again today: tomorrow, the election will be over, but the dishonesty, the division, the "war" will go on unabated: maybe even intensified. People will continue to spread half-truths and outright lies about the "other side", and treat our civil discourse like a fight to the death. As a person of faith, I feel those words, "Too long have I had my dwelling among those who hate peace; I am for peace, but when I speak, they are for war." To be totally honest, to be a person of faith, and a "person of peace" today, one increasingly may have to feel like a foreigner in our culture. But rather than roll back the clock (which is impossible anyway), my suggestion is, Okay, then let's be foreigners again. For "our citizenship is in heaven," and so our ways may be foreign to most. But let's own it. Let's be people of honesty, of reconciliation, of peace.

Prayer: God, you have given us the desire to be your people. Now give us the nerve. Amen.

1Kings 2:39-3:28, and a Wise Ruler...

Observation: God offers Solomon a blank check, "Ask what I should give you." Solomon asks for the best thing he could ask for: "an understanding mind to govern your people, able to discern good and evil". Because he says this, God declares that the wealth and power other kings might ask for will come with it. It's a good day to be Solomon.
Application: I was talking with an Adult Study group yesterday about the Fourth Commandment (Honor your Father and Mother) and how Luther's Small Catechism expands "Father and Mother" to "All people in authority." It's a tall order in this hyper partisan age, to commit to "honoring" people in authority, even those we disagree with. Tomorrow, no matter what happens, following this commandment is going to get a lot harder for a significant chunk of America's population. The only question is "which chunk". A lot of people will need your prayers and compassion starting tomorrow, and it will probably not be easy to give.

It's important to remember, though, that unlike with Solomon or even the princes of Luther's day, in our country the "ultimate authority" is with the people. We make conscious choices each day, not just in how best to show honor to elected leaders, but to our friends and neighbors, from whom their authority comes. And tomorrow, for leaders up and down the ballot, for you and your community, for me and for mine, I pray for wisdom. And may the prayers keep coming long after that. We will need them.

Prayer (a paraphrase of 1 Kings 3:7-9)
And now, O Lord our God, you have made your servants rulers in place of David and other kings of old, although we are only little children, we do not know how to go out or to come in. And your servants are in the midst of a great people, so numerous they cannot be numbered or counted. Give your servants, therefore, an understanding mind to govern your people, able to discern good from evil, for who can govern your great people? Amen.

Psalm 119:53-60, And a Law that Lasts

Okay, one more time, then I'm done whining. I am tired of reading Psalm 119. It's the longest book of the Bible. It's an acrostic about God's law, with a full poem using every single letter of the Hebrew alphabet. I've been reading this thing in the Moravian Daily Texts every day for at least two weeks now.

But I have to admit...reading it today, I feel like it's God's timing. (Who am I kidding, it always is; it's just sometimes I'm better at noticing it.)

There's something I've taken for granted all my life, that I'm just now noticing. It's the assumption that in the grand scheme of things, our system of laws, of impartial justice, of basic order, will always work. And when it doesn't, the people of our country have a recourse to change the system in a peaceful way, at the ballot box, or by making use of our constitutional right to peacefully protest.

The more of history you read, the more you realize what a gift that is. Our history is rife with wars of succession, civil wars, assassinations and political kidnappings--even in the church, there was a period of about a century when there were two "legitimate" popes, ruling alongside one another!--and in the other Daily Text for today (1 Kings 1:28-53) we have yet another example. Adonijah, sensing King David's approaching death, just goes ahead and gathers some supporters and anoints himself King. Then Bathsheba and Solomon come to David, who names Solomon as successor, and chaos ensues. This is how things used to be done all the time. You tried to back the right horse, make friends with the right people, but heaven forbid if "your guy" was ousted, all your property and rights, and maybe your life, went out the window.

I used to look at stories like this and give thanks. Give thanks that we're beyond this. That anything and everything can be worked out in our system of democracy: through elections, or barring that, lawsuits, court rulings, public protests, legislation...in a word, the people of a free republic working together to solve their problems within an agreed-upon set of rules.

My faith in that system is severely shaken right now. For the first time in my life, we have a presidential candidate hinting that there may not be a peaceful transition of power. Suggesting, without a single shred of evidence, that voter fraud is rampant at the poles, and that his followers should show up "in certain areas" and try to stop "the wrong people" from voting. We have legislators who have already broken the record for holding up a Supreme Court nomination, suggesting they may just hold it up permanently, and let our country's highest court continue to operate in a compromised state. We have peaceful protesters being violently maced and injured with rubber bullets for trying to protect their own water supply. We have citizens more afraid of the actions of the police who patrol their neighborhoods than of any crime their neighbors may commit. Every possible way our system was designed to protect us seems to be malfunctioning, and whatever happens on Tuesday, it shows no signs of getting better on its own. 

So I have to admit my privilege, realizing that from where I sat in society, I didn't have much cause to question the fundamentals of the system before now. The fear I feel now, is a fear that many who have been discriminated against based on race, creed, gender or sexual orientation, have felt all their lives. Now, we are all scared together. 

Never in my life have we needed God's law more than we do today. Now, please understand, I am not talking about a theocracy, or legislating Christian values or social agendas. What I'm talking about is a subset of the American people, however large or small, who are willing to regulate themselves when human regulations fail. Who are willing to hold ourselves to a higher standard, even when our society's standards are plummeting. Who are willing to truly love our neighbor as ourselves, even if it's not illegal not to do so. Who act in others' best interest, even if no earthly judge will sentence us for acting selfishly.

I realize it makes secular folks nervous when Christians conflate morality with faith. I agree, we should be able to be decent to each other just because it's the right thing to do, even without appealing to a higher power. But we're not doing it, are we? And if appealing to my faith--understanding that, though God's grace has saved me, I will still stand before my Lord at the end of my life, and we will talk about how I used these years I was given--will help me be part of the solution, I will use it. God's law doesn't go away, even when human systems are in danger. 

God, thank you for your law. Help us--all of us--to love our neighbors as ourselves, even when nobody's watching. Amen.  

John 11:31-44, and Healing Tears

Observation: Jesus has already told Martha, "I am the resurrection and the life." Yet when he actually reaches Lazarus' grave, he weeps.

Application: I tend to "choke up" pretty easily. It's rather annoying at times, because I don't know when it's coming. Could be something really poignant, could be a stupid puppy chow commercial. But every now and then, it's while I'm preaching. This is especially mortifying in the moment, because I feel a hundred eyeballs glued to me, and I have to figure out how to power through. Must just be the stoic, American "bro" masculine conditioning I've gotten over the years. But it's uncomfortable.

I find it interesting, though, that the idealized, super-charged Jesus we find in John's Gospel, the one who always has the perfect comeback, the perfect teaching moment, the one for whom absolutely everything is going exactly according to plan...this is the Jesus who weeps. He doesn't break down like this in the synoptic Gospels. Just here in John, here in the right place and time, when people need to see, here he cries. And what the people see is love.

Chances are, most of my "verklempt" moments will not be as well orchestrated. But I know that sermons I remember from my childhood often involve the preacher being vulnerable, and maybe getting a bit emotional. We don't just "tell" the Gospel to each other. We witness.

Thank you, Lord, for making me who I am...which is sometimes a messy heap of man-tears at seemingly inappropriate times. Help me embrace it, as Jesus did, and find strength in compassion. 

John 10:22-33, and Time Travelin' Jesus

Okay. Do I believe that Jesus of Nazareth is God? Yes. Absolutely. Descended from David according to the flesh, shown to be Son of God by resurrection from the dead, just like it says in Romans 1. 

Do I believe the historical Jesus claimed he was divine, literally declared "The Father and I are one," and spent most of his earthly ministry arguing with fellow Jews about whether or not he was God? I don't know. I wasn't there. It could be. But for my own part, I'm going to say likely not. 

Mind you, I will not think any less of any Christian for believing and affirming that Jesus openly said he was divine during his earthly ministry. You may be right. It's just that the other three Gospels do not attest this. And Jesus would have had a very hard time getting twelve working-class, First-commandment-following Jews to devote their lives to him, not to mention not be stoned in every Jewish village he visited, with that as his opening line. 

But the Resurrection changed things. Big time. Much of John's Gospel, I believe, reflects what its writers know is coming: that this man will rise from the dead. It reflects the Spirit of the Risen Christ, as he continued to show up in communities later in the first century--communities who were, in fact, taking a lot of abuse for holding to the truth, that Jesus and his Father are one. It is a future Jesus we sometimes see in the Gospels: a Risen Jesus, reaching back into the story from a later time. The light of Easter shines back into earlier narratives, and forward into our lives today. 

Jesus, thank you for being who you are: the Risen son of God. Help me to follow you to the cross and empty tomb, and see for myself who you are. Amen.

Psalm 119 and a Wisdom for All

Observation: the psalmist continues to praise God's laws, because they give him/her wisdom beyond enemies, teachers, even the aged.

Application: This week I'm giving thanks for Scripture as "the great equalizer." When the Protestant reformers established the doctrine of "Sola Scriptura"--that only Scripture is the foundation for Christian belief--the Holy Spirit did a wonderfully new thing by sharing authority with all who can read, hear and reflect. The advent of the printing press and the eventual rise in literacy gave "power to the people"!

With this "great power," as they say, "comes great responsibility". It's no longer the responsibility of a Pope, Bishop, or even your pastor to tell you what the Bible says--you can now do it for yourself--but there's still a lot of background and history to know, if you want to get a sense of who was writing and why. There will always be room for devotional reading, engaging directly with Scripture and asking "what does this mean for me today?" But just as the Holy Spirit has placed God's word in our hands, She has also surrounded us with a great cloud of witnesses, Saints all around us and through all time, as our study partners. We are not unqualified to hear God speak. But neither are we independent or alone.

God, thank you for your Word, that can lift up the lowly and tear down the lofty. May it make us faithful. Amen.

John 10, and "Pro-Life" Jesus

Observation. Jesus uses a bunch of different metaphors to get across the same point: Unlike others, I want all people to flourish. 

Application: I think both religious and secular folks alike can sometimes reduce the way of Christ to a series of limitations, a list of "dont's." It's simpler that way. Just arbitrarily set out all the stuff that's off limits, and you don't ever have to think or reflect on God's will. It's either on the "don't" list, or it's okay. And if you like or feel a need for stuff that's on the "don't" list, then Christianity must not be for you, and it's time to move on. Easy enough. No thinking required. 

Except the will of Christ is not a "don't" list. It's a "do" list. Live. Live abundantly. That's the reason Jesus came: so we can live our lives in 3 dimensions, in dynamic relationship with God our Father, with our faith families and with the world. If we are living into this relationship authentically, it's true that there are many things we're very unlikely to do, but the guiding principle is a positive one: what will lead to abundant life for my neighbor and for myself? 

God, thank you for my life. Help me preserve and improve the lives of others. Help me join you in your mission: not just preventing death, but giving each of your children a full, meaningful life. Amen.