When I awoke this morning it was snowing. Just enough had fallen to cover everything with a nice soft layer of white.
I’m always excited to see the snow. Though I dislike driving in it--largely due to my fellow drivers who don’t seem to think slick streets suggest caution--I love looking at it. Its brilliant sparkle seems to give the drab, grey winter landscape luminescence. Bare trees glisten. Dead grass disappears. The leaves that have fallen since the last raking have their summoning voices silenced. At the early hour when I first looked out, not even tire tracks marred the black of the roadway. It was as if all of creation had been rendered a beautiful new creation.
Those who witnessed Jesus driving out the demon of the man in the synagogue (Mark 1: 21-28) were seeing a new creation too. “They were all amazed, and they kept on asking one another, ‘What is this? A new teaching-- with authority! He commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him.’" With authority! They weren’t used to that. This Jesus was something new and different—a force with which to be reckoned.
Two thousand years later, we aren’t much impressed. Jesus’ work and teaching, they’re old hat to us. No amazement. Too bad for us.
It’s not a terminal condition. We could, you know, listen to his words when they are read to us or when we read them and pretend we’d never heard them before. We could let our imagination go and see how we’d act if it really were a new teaching. When we head in the Eucharistic prayer the mighty works of God on our behalf, we could really listen for a change. When the recital of Jesus’ saving work is intoned, we could imagine we’d never heard such a thing before.
And if we did these things, what might happen? I’ll let you consider that for yourself.
Peace,
Jerry+
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Being Called
As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea-- for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, "Follow me and I will make you fish for people." And immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending the nets. Immediately he called them; and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him.
This is a kind of surreal story. Four fishermen are called to leave their livelihood and take up a new vocation—bring people to believe in Jesus and the new Kingdom he preached. Just out of the blue, he asks them to stop what they have been doing and join in this rump movement. Forgive me if I stretch this story to be a metaphor for what Obama is doing—to be a kind of parallel between the first century and now.
As I pointed out earlier, the President is asking us to stop business as usual and find ways to bring justice to the poor and disadvantaged; to put swords away in favor of hammers and brick; to look beyond ourselves to the common good. Obama sees a vision of what America can be instead of what it has become and he calls each of us to join in making it a reality.
The thing is, I didn’t vote for him. I didn’t think he had the experience or the political savvy to do a tenth of what he said he’d do during the campaign. And I really believed, as was said in the final days of the campaign, he’d be tested by foreign powers—severely tested and tested early. I wasn’t sure he’d pass.
I suspect many people who heard Jesus promise something new and better had the same thoughts about him as I had about Obama. But four men and later eight men and later many men and women believed.
His vision hasn’t become a reality, but still you and I are called to make it so, to believe he can deliver. He calls us today as surely as Obama is calling us. As Christians, we can respond both as believers and as good citizens. There are many overlaps between what the President seeks and what Jesus seeks. But neither of them can pull it off without our involvement. Today is not New Year’s Day, but perhaps it is still a good time to resolve to restore what is broken down and renew what is fallen. How about it?
Peace,
Jerry+
This is a kind of surreal story. Four fishermen are called to leave their livelihood and take up a new vocation—bring people to believe in Jesus and the new Kingdom he preached. Just out of the blue, he asks them to stop what they have been doing and join in this rump movement. Forgive me if I stretch this story to be a metaphor for what Obama is doing—to be a kind of parallel between the first century and now.
As I pointed out earlier, the President is asking us to stop business as usual and find ways to bring justice to the poor and disadvantaged; to put swords away in favor of hammers and brick; to look beyond ourselves to the common good. Obama sees a vision of what America can be instead of what it has become and he calls each of us to join in making it a reality.
The thing is, I didn’t vote for him. I didn’t think he had the experience or the political savvy to do a tenth of what he said he’d do during the campaign. And I really believed, as was said in the final days of the campaign, he’d be tested by foreign powers—severely tested and tested early. I wasn’t sure he’d pass.
I suspect many people who heard Jesus promise something new and better had the same thoughts about him as I had about Obama. But four men and later eight men and later many men and women believed.
His vision hasn’t become a reality, but still you and I are called to make it so, to believe he can deliver. He calls us today as surely as Obama is calling us. As Christians, we can respond both as believers and as good citizens. There are many overlaps between what the President seeks and what Jesus seeks. But neither of them can pull it off without our involvement. Today is not New Year’s Day, but perhaps it is still a good time to resolve to restore what is broken down and renew what is fallen. How about it?
Peace,
Jerry+
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
An Open Letter
Mr President, I listened to your speech today. I found it moving, hopeful, and realistic in its appraisal of our situation at home and abroad. Yes, and it was filled with idealism as well. A part of me is always attracted to idealism. Ideals such as mutual respect, care for others, concern for the common good, inspire me and draw me in. At the same time, I’ve had my idealism crushed too many times to not recognize that a powerful speech by a new president will likely change nothing.
I say that with a lump in my throat and moisture in my eyes. You have called us to such a higher good that it is almost unimaginable that not everyone will want to join in making it real. Yet, I’m pretty confident, that as you try to bring about the changes you outlined, intra and inter party politics will result in every initiative being delayed, watered down, or completely defeated. The same selfishness that helped create our economic crisis will not go away because you have called us to pull together. The lust for power and control is at least as powerful as the greed that drove us to the brink. I wish I did not believe this to be so, but I do.
I am old enough to remember the many personal sacrifices of the people of our country during WWII. We had our butter and our sugar rationed. Gasoline and rubber for tires were in short supply. Rag pickers regularly moved up and down the street I lived on to gather worn out wash clothes and towels to be recycled. Pleas for iron skillets and aluminum pans to be turned into war materiel were answered with enthusiasm. I remember collecting aluminum foil to help our efforts. There was no sense of entitlement or wish to be excused from the sacrifices; no sense that “none of this applies to me.”
But my life as shown me that those who taste power and wealth are unlikely to want to sacrifice any of it for the common good. And these are those who actually run our country in public office and behind the scenes, on Wall Street and in board rooms. Power is just heady stuff. It’s an addiction that’s hard to break. And wealth? The mortgage payment on the gated community or the McMansion are too high to move the speculators and brokers to thinking about the retired or less affluent people in the community who are struggling to make it. If there is a buck to be made, it will be made—damn the consequences for the “little people.” Real change just seems so unlikely.
I’m sorry I’m so pessimistic about all this. I don’t want to feel this way. But I remember being excited about other presidents and other administrations only to be disappointed in what they were able to accomplish. Good men, such as Jimmy Carter, who was simply over his head. Sincere men, such as George Bush, who took bad advice and held to his idealism with damning consequences.
Perhaps this time it will be different. I hope so, Mr President. I’ll do what I can. You are my president and you’ll have my support, my encouragement, and my prayers.
Peace,
Jerry+
I say that with a lump in my throat and moisture in my eyes. You have called us to such a higher good that it is almost unimaginable that not everyone will want to join in making it real. Yet, I’m pretty confident, that as you try to bring about the changes you outlined, intra and inter party politics will result in every initiative being delayed, watered down, or completely defeated. The same selfishness that helped create our economic crisis will not go away because you have called us to pull together. The lust for power and control is at least as powerful as the greed that drove us to the brink. I wish I did not believe this to be so, but I do.
I am old enough to remember the many personal sacrifices of the people of our country during WWII. We had our butter and our sugar rationed. Gasoline and rubber for tires were in short supply. Rag pickers regularly moved up and down the street I lived on to gather worn out wash clothes and towels to be recycled. Pleas for iron skillets and aluminum pans to be turned into war materiel were answered with enthusiasm. I remember collecting aluminum foil to help our efforts. There was no sense of entitlement or wish to be excused from the sacrifices; no sense that “none of this applies to me.”
But my life as shown me that those who taste power and wealth are unlikely to want to sacrifice any of it for the common good. And these are those who actually run our country in public office and behind the scenes, on Wall Street and in board rooms. Power is just heady stuff. It’s an addiction that’s hard to break. And wealth? The mortgage payment on the gated community or the McMansion are too high to move the speculators and brokers to thinking about the retired or less affluent people in the community who are struggling to make it. If there is a buck to be made, it will be made—damn the consequences for the “little people.” Real change just seems so unlikely.
I’m sorry I’m so pessimistic about all this. I don’t want to feel this way. But I remember being excited about other presidents and other administrations only to be disappointed in what they were able to accomplish. Good men, such as Jimmy Carter, who was simply over his head. Sincere men, such as George Bush, who took bad advice and held to his idealism with damning consequences.
Perhaps this time it will be different. I hope so, Mr President. I’ll do what I can. You are my president and you’ll have my support, my encouragement, and my prayers.
Peace,
Jerry+
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Not enough sleep
I bet we’ve all been awake in the pre-dawn darkness of the early morning. Sometimes intentionally as we prepare for a trip or a busy day. Other times—unintentionally because our sleep is interrupted by something. Pre-dawn. Not the darkness of midnight, inky and enduring. In the pre-dawn we know in a very short while the sun will bring brightness to a new day. Still it’s quiet as midnight, though as dawn approaches we likely will hear the birds coming awake, whistling the day’s start.
The pre-dawn can be a peaceful time. Even though we hadn’t planned to wake so early, we notice we don’t feel tired. We may stretch and smile to ourselves, feeling the delicious feeling of extra time we’ve stolen from sleep--what the French sometimes refer to as the petit morte, or little death.
But, this dark, quiet time may more often be unsettling. We may look at the clock and know we just haven’t rested enough for the hard day ahead. We long to slip back into Morpheus’ arms and dream pleasant dreams, but we know it’s not likely. Unbidden and troubling thoughts peck at us like crows ripping into corncobs. We toss and turn, cursing our minds that won’t rest.
The Old Testament lesson for Sunday from Samuel plunges us into such a pre-dawn time for the youth, Samuel. He hears a voice and, as the writer reminds us, hasn’t yet come to know the Lord, and so assumes it is his mentor Eli. Once, twice, three times, he rises and goes to Eli asking, “You called me father Eli?” Eli thinking Samuel must be having a bad dream, sends him back to bed, one, twice, but then Eli knows the truth. “Samuel, my beloved, it is not I who called you, but our Lord. Go back to your bed and if he calls again say, ‘Speak Lord, for your servant is listening.’”
Darkness is not always about literal night time. Samuel, as young and as pure as he must have been, was in a kind of darkness. Though he lived in a shrine and slept only steps away from the Ark of the Covenant, he did not know the Lord. Perhaps part of the reason can be seen in the beginning of this story. It begins with an awful statement: “the word of the Lord was rare in those days.”
Without question, each of us has experienced our own dark times in which it must have seemed if the word of the Lord was rare—or non-existent. What bleak and empty times those are! Worse than the pain of a pre-dawn struggle, black as midnight. And we’ve also known those times when God was calling to us and we weren’t sure we knew whose voice it was. We knew we were troubled, but we couldn’t be certain whether the voice was from God or elsewhere. Maybe it was our own inner self speaking but bereft of any direction from God. Troubling times. But maybe the worst are those times when we’ve heard the voice and finally know it is the Lord, but it is the Lord asking something that leaves us unsettled, even afraid.
God told Samuel to deliver a terrible blow to Eli. Samuel had to tell Eli God would soon take his two evil sons. And Eli would become separated from God because he did nothing to stop his sons from their evil actions. So separated that no sacrifice could atone. Samuel, loved Eli and searched for a way to avoid telling him, just as we may avoid responding to God’s call to us to leave what is secure and comfortable. But in the end, Samuel obeys.
God often asks us to move from what we know to what we don’t know, from where we are secure, to insecurity. Think Abram asked as an old man to leave Ur and go to an unknown destination to found a new nation. Think Moses asked to leave his place of privilege in Egypt to lead God people back to Israel. Think Paul, asked to give up his Jewish religion and his place of honor and become a wandering preacher. But God doesn’t just ask such things of great religious figures, whose response is immortalized in Scripture. God asks all of us at some time or the other, in some way or the other, to listen to his bidding and then do what may seem undoable, distasteful, frightening or unsettling.
Please know, that when this happens, God will understand if you hesitate or are reluctant. God will understand if you try to bargain your way out of doing it, whether the “it” be great or small. God will understand if you toss and turn in the midnight dark or the pre-dawn glow, trying to come to terms with your fear. And through it all, God will be with you to give you the peace and the courage to act. It just requires that you quit struggling and say, as Eli did, when Samuel finally told him, “It is the Lord; let him do what seems good to him.” When you can do that, peace will come over you and all will be well.
Peace,
Jerry+
The pre-dawn can be a peaceful time. Even though we hadn’t planned to wake so early, we notice we don’t feel tired. We may stretch and smile to ourselves, feeling the delicious feeling of extra time we’ve stolen from sleep--what the French sometimes refer to as the petit morte, or little death.
But, this dark, quiet time may more often be unsettling. We may look at the clock and know we just haven’t rested enough for the hard day ahead. We long to slip back into Morpheus’ arms and dream pleasant dreams, but we know it’s not likely. Unbidden and troubling thoughts peck at us like crows ripping into corncobs. We toss and turn, cursing our minds that won’t rest.
The Old Testament lesson for Sunday from Samuel plunges us into such a pre-dawn time for the youth, Samuel. He hears a voice and, as the writer reminds us, hasn’t yet come to know the Lord, and so assumes it is his mentor Eli. Once, twice, three times, he rises and goes to Eli asking, “You called me father Eli?” Eli thinking Samuel must be having a bad dream, sends him back to bed, one, twice, but then Eli knows the truth. “Samuel, my beloved, it is not I who called you, but our Lord. Go back to your bed and if he calls again say, ‘Speak Lord, for your servant is listening.’”
Darkness is not always about literal night time. Samuel, as young and as pure as he must have been, was in a kind of darkness. Though he lived in a shrine and slept only steps away from the Ark of the Covenant, he did not know the Lord. Perhaps part of the reason can be seen in the beginning of this story. It begins with an awful statement: “the word of the Lord was rare in those days.”
Without question, each of us has experienced our own dark times in which it must have seemed if the word of the Lord was rare—or non-existent. What bleak and empty times those are! Worse than the pain of a pre-dawn struggle, black as midnight. And we’ve also known those times when God was calling to us and we weren’t sure we knew whose voice it was. We knew we were troubled, but we couldn’t be certain whether the voice was from God or elsewhere. Maybe it was our own inner self speaking but bereft of any direction from God. Troubling times. But maybe the worst are those times when we’ve heard the voice and finally know it is the Lord, but it is the Lord asking something that leaves us unsettled, even afraid.
God told Samuel to deliver a terrible blow to Eli. Samuel had to tell Eli God would soon take his two evil sons. And Eli would become separated from God because he did nothing to stop his sons from their evil actions. So separated that no sacrifice could atone. Samuel, loved Eli and searched for a way to avoid telling him, just as we may avoid responding to God’s call to us to leave what is secure and comfortable. But in the end, Samuel obeys.
God often asks us to move from what we know to what we don’t know, from where we are secure, to insecurity. Think Abram asked as an old man to leave Ur and go to an unknown destination to found a new nation. Think Moses asked to leave his place of privilege in Egypt to lead God people back to Israel. Think Paul, asked to give up his Jewish religion and his place of honor and become a wandering preacher. But God doesn’t just ask such things of great religious figures, whose response is immortalized in Scripture. God asks all of us at some time or the other, in some way or the other, to listen to his bidding and then do what may seem undoable, distasteful, frightening or unsettling.
Please know, that when this happens, God will understand if you hesitate or are reluctant. God will understand if you try to bargain your way out of doing it, whether the “it” be great or small. God will understand if you toss and turn in the midnight dark or the pre-dawn glow, trying to come to terms with your fear. And through it all, God will be with you to give you the peace and the courage to act. It just requires that you quit struggling and say, as Eli did, when Samuel finally told him, “It is the Lord; let him do what seems good to him.” When you can do that, peace will come over you and all will be well.
Peace,
Jerry+
Monday, January 5, 2009
Happy New Year!
Recently someone sent me an email with a set of things kids said about love. They were cute and funny, and may have even been said by kids. (Forgive the whiff of cynicism here.) The “winner,” according to the sender, was a four year old child whose next door neighbor was an elderly man whose wife recently died. The little boy happened to see the man sitting on his porch, crying. The little boy watched for a minute, then went up on the porch, climbed onto man’s lap, and just sat there. His mother saw this and later asked what he had said to the neighbor. The little boy replied, “Nothing, I just helped him cry.”
I have to say, I was especially moved by this story, true or not. My reaction is colored by Carol’s and my experience during the past months when each of us experienced deep unexpected losses in our lives. We have both remarked to each other and to others that two of the things that made the experiences bearable were having each other and having friends and family who stepped up. In their way, they just “helped us cry.”
We’ve said thank you them, but here at the beginning of this new year, we wanted to say it again. Please accept this thanks:
Gracious God, please bless all those who love us in whatever way that You know they may need to be blessed this day! And may their lives be full of Your peace, prosperity and power as they each seek to have a closer relationship with You. Amen.
Peace,
Jerry+
I have to say, I was especially moved by this story, true or not. My reaction is colored by Carol’s and my experience during the past months when each of us experienced deep unexpected losses in our lives. We have both remarked to each other and to others that two of the things that made the experiences bearable were having each other and having friends and family who stepped up. In their way, they just “helped us cry.”
We’ve said thank you them, but here at the beginning of this new year, we wanted to say it again. Please accept this thanks:
Gracious God, please bless all those who love us in whatever way that You know they may need to be blessed this day! And may their lives be full of Your peace, prosperity and power as they each seek to have a closer relationship with You. Amen.
Peace,
Jerry+
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