Reflecting…

   This may seem like a strange focus for Advent, with Christmas right around the corner, but I find myself returning to these verses from my personal devotions this morning and I thought I’d share them with you for whatever purpose the Lord might have in mind.

   For thus says the high and lofty one who inhabits eternity, whose name is Holy: I dwell in the high and holy place and also with those who are contrite and humble in spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble and to revive the heart of the contrite.  For I will not continually accuse, nor will I always be angry; for then the spirits would grow faint before me, even the souls that I have made (Isaiah 57:15-16).

   They are words of hope.  I read them over a couple of times because I want to linger there a little longer.  By contrast, the words before this are words of warning.  My instincts are to pass though that word-neighborhood as quickly as possible, with my windows rolled up and the locks down on my doors, if you know what I mean.  I am troubled whenever God’s words are sharp and angry, even though I know intellectually that his anger is “for me,” to call me away from sins that would destroy my life.  I muse, though, as I look out into that darkness, that most people who dabble there or live there do not realize how wily and desperate their situation really is.  We are quick to buy into the neon lies that Evil flashes before us.  Come-ons.  A soft life.  Continually seeking out more excitement or gratification.  You see why I want to skim over God’s description, “but you did not say, ‘It is useless.’  You found your desire rekindled…”  (Isaiah 57:10b).

   God clearly sees the places we live and calls it like he sees it.  By contrast, God lives in a different time and place, in eternity, in a high and holy place.  Probably all of us understand that, no matter what spiritual condition we are in.

   The good news in this Isaiah passage comes in a few little words, words we might miss because they are pretty-much non-descript:  “and also with…”  (v.  15).    Those words make all the difference in the world. They encapsulate the prophecy of Christmas, Emmanuel, God with us.

   Because God is not only on our side, but also at our side, we are not left to our own devices.  We are not abandoned as vulnerable in a tricky, ‘chew-you-up- and-spit-you-out’ world.   Jesus has overcome and we can celebrate!  But here the Christmas prophecy and the Christmas event challenge me one step farther: God specifically says that he comes to those who are humble.

   It’s all over the story.  Our Lord Jesus has a humble birth in a stable in Bethlehem, but, long before that, our Lord Jesus did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited (Philippians 2:6). Mary responds to the angel that she is God’s humble servant.  Joseph chooses humility over remaining aloof from a disgraceful social situation.  Shepherding is a humble life.  Even the magi kneel in worship. In his ministry, our Lord Jesus invites his followers to “learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart” (Matthew 11:29).  He continually confronts spiritual know-it-alls while befriending the spiritual downtrodden.  His death was lowly.

   Humility is a virtue I admire, but at the same time, when I am honest with myself, I know I don’t relish being humbled.  I wonder what I will have to go through to become humble.  So, to leave that humbling process in God’s hands is a real response of faith.  As I close the Bible on my lap and bow to pray, I need to believe that being humble is essential and the only way to be close to God – something I deeply desire.  At the same time, I need to trust that God will remember that my spirit, too, so easily grows faint before him, even the soul that he has made and loves (from v. 16).

   I will close this reflection now with a blessing that may also seem, at first, rather non-descript and easily passed over.  In reality, however, these words may be the most significant and challenging Christmas greeting I will send out.  

   May our homes and our hearts be humble places, prepared for him.

                                                               ~  Pastor Shirley

Reflecting...

O righteous God, who searches minds and hearts, bring to an end the violence of the wicked and make the righteous secure.  (Psalm 7:9)

It’s an old prayer.  The people of God prayed it regularly because it was such a personal prayer.  They saw themselves as the ones who would benefit if it were ever to be answered just the way they had requested.  No one questioned that others were the violent, wicked ones while they themselves were the ones needing to be rescued.

Those who desperately need to be rescued from whatever has a grip on their lives still pray for relief today. 

Sin victimizes people, catches them up in trouble and hurt.  And some of us get hurt more than others.  The question, “Where is God when people suffer?” is a question posed by a skeptic.  The prayer of the faithful has always been this waiting, longing prayer: O righteous God, who searches minds and hearts, bring to an end the violence of the wicked and make the righteous secure.

The answer comes when Jesus is born!
Zechariah – filled with the Holy Spirit – proclaims it: Praise be to the Lord, the God of Israel, because he has come and has redeemed his people…to rescue us from the hand of our enemies and to enable us to serve him without fear in holiness and righteousness before him all our days. (Luke 1:68, 74-75)
Mother Mary – breaking out into song – claims it:  My soul praises the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior…He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble. (Luke 1:46-47; 52)

Since it’s a living answer -- the word made flesh -- like all living things, it grows.  The answer is a person, and it is also a process, a movement of hope, with a sure conclusion.  Jesus lives so we can learn and he dies on the cross so we can live.  God’s plan is the resurrection, followed by spreading this “rescue” message and, then his coming again!  

I know Christians celebrate our Lord’s coming with much joy.  We are so grateful for what Jesus has done for us!  But, dear Lord, those who waited so long for relief and, also, those who claimed your coming as an answer to the old prayer – they challenge my own way of thinking about your coming.  I wonder sometimes on dark nights, if I keep Christmas in ways that truly communicate this first Christmas message.  Do the powerless rejoice at the hope I offer?  Do I know how to speak and live that hope?  

So, here is my Christmas prayer:

Most Gracious Lord,
continue to give your gift of blessed relief!
May we be bold to ask for it,
ready to proclaim it
and generously share it
with those you so love!
In the name of Jesus, Amen.

Grace and peace,
Pastor Shirley   

Play it By Ear!

Yesterday I stood before the congregation as the one who would once again open the Bible and read.  Each week I introduce the readings with the invitation, "Hear the Word of the Lord."  I know another pastor who uses the phrase, "Listen for the Word of the Lord." 

This morning, even I think, "What a small thing to comment on!"   The reading itself is the important thing.  At least for those who come.  From other accounts, life seems to move along nicely without the reading for those who don't bother. 

Facebook and Twitter give us entry bars to describe what we're thinking or doing at any moment.  According to us, our status is most often shaped by what we see, what we have to do that we don't want to do, what we are eating, what the weather will bring today, who we're spending time with, and sometimes, what we're reading.  Not so much on hearing God.  Listening to God.  Reading and hearing are different from one another. I am among those who claim that we need to hear.  I need to hear.  Among all the daily voices, all the input, all the fears and all the bravado, I need to hear God.  Clearly.  Often.  So, I take the church up on its invitation and I'm thankful for being invited, because, when it comes to how I live my life,  I'm committed to playing it by ear.        

Reflecting…


“So then, my brothers and sisters, when you come together to eat, wait for one another.” (1 Corinthians 11:33 NRSV)

It was getting to be a problem. When the church at Corinth got together to celebrate the Lord’s Supper, they weren’t all that “together” about it. Some were digging in, eating voraciously, hungrily. (After all, it was a meal, wasn’t it? A banquet, a feast!) But the haves and the have-nots were not equally served.

So, Paul makes another note on his list of corrections and explanations to send them. They have misunderstood what the Supper is all about. They aren’t “discerning the body,” he writes. And that’s important, important enough to take set aside some time beforehand to review their own lives and to make amends. Important enough to warn them to take this seriously. Important enough to refocus their attention on the body of the Lord Jesus, given over to death on the cross for their forgiveness, and then, to challenge their limited assumptions about what that means in terms of community. In fact, not wanting to leave room for any excuses, Paul uses that word, “body,” to name Jesus Christ and, at the same time, to name the group of persons who eat the bread and share the cup at this table. The body of Christ is the church.

This is a personal meal, but not a private one. Relationship with Jesus is both deeply personal and, then, necessarily public. They cannot choose the first without receiving the second as well. It’s a package deal, we might say.

The well-to-do were accustomed to eating what they wanted when they wanted. Scholars note that the words Paul uses here imply that they are gorging themselves in front of those who have little by comparison.

Once Paul has their attention, when they are listening to this letter being read, Paul will make it absolutely clear: those with more personal power, who are able to do things their way, must make different choices. Eat before you get here, for example. So you can see past the food, so you can see past your own plate. “Wait for each other.” Remember you are here to eat together, so the rich need to be intentional about eating a simple, ‘poor’ meal. For good reason. In order to see Jesus. In order to be the church.

The letter still arrives today whenever we gather to take the bread and the cup. We hear the verses just before this: “For I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, ‘This is my body that is broken for you.’” We hear, “In the same way he took the cup also, after supper, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.’”

And, maybe we might listen more intently and ponder the importance of these next words for our own choices, “Wait for one another.”

“Much Grace,”
Pastor Shirley

How satisfied are we? or How are we satisfied?

Why do you work for things that don't satisfy?
Listen to me...

It's a paraphrase of Isaiah 55:2. 
Makes me wonder...
How satisfied am I at the end of the day or week or project or unit or semester?  How satisfied am I with my accomplishments?

What does it take to satisfy me? 

Do I let work mask another, unsatisfied part of me --
a part that work cannot address because it has nothing to do with work. 

Do I find the daily grind unsatisfying? 
Am I unsatisfied with the way I replied when asked a question? 
With the particular things in the pile on my desk or the list or my daily planner? 
Or the routine?  Or the unwanted feedback?  Or the embarrassment, or failure? 

But what if I am satisfied? 
Enjoying my life.
Filling my time with activities that remind me I am competent and in control,
activities that make up for other areas of my life where just the opposite is true.

Satisfied for now with what feels good, looks good. 
Telling myself this is satisfying enough; if only things would stay this way.
When life is good, there's always the chance that it could be better, isn't there? 

What if I hear this question as a time to ask what it was all for, what difference it made?

What if I listen
To God   
About what satisfies? 

As if He knew
something about that
that I don't.

Or just because
He asks me to
listen.

Would I hear  
how deep satisfaction can really be,
even better than I've ever hoped for?

Why do you work for things that don't satisfy?
The question implies a life that is much better than I've settled for, for sure.

But accepting a free handout, even from God, 
sounds beneath us somehow, I think. 
Could we be holding on to a twisted impression?

What if, in truth, accepting brings satisfaction far above
anything we could get by working?

What if we were to hear God's question as an invitation?
Good instinct...
because the next word texted from God in Isaiah 55 is
Come.

"Much Grace,"
Pastor Shirley

Reflecting…
God, the Lord, is my strength. Habakkuk 3:19
What a lot of value we place on tracing things back!

• Tracing symptoms back to the cause of our pain or infection.
• Tracing syndromes back to a specific gene that set them in place.
• Tracing family lineage, even tracing DNA, to find our roots and connections.
• Tracing favorite family recipes back to Great-grandma.
• Tracing our fingertips along the strong family resemblance in the soft face of a newborn.

     When a bill seems too high, we phone the company and ask some questions. We press 1, press 4, press * for the company directory until we are able to connect with someone who can give us the answer or, at least, hear our complaint.
     When there’s a clunk in the engine, we lift the hood and take a look or find someone else to do that.
     When there’s an oversight, we follow the investigative news reports to see where things went wrong.


Tracking down evidence. Searching for clues.
Looking for some aspect that will confirm our hopes or fears.


Tracing requires us to sort important details from unimportant ones. To prioritize and keep focused on what’s important. Tracking means taking action day after day, doggedly hounding the problem until we wear it down.


All those daily choices demonstrate that we not only value the results we get when we track things down, but that we are usually capable of getting the results we need. In other words, the process of tracing things back works for us. It’s a pretty essential practice to learn if we are going to live well in our society.


Some trace wounds and frustrations back to God. Why is there no justice? Why do I have to deal with this? What else do I need to do? Where are you when I need you?


Others -- those who know him -- also trace life’s experiences back to him. But they gratefully claim that he is the source of their strength.


Strength…
To deal
With it all.


You might want to trace what Jesus teaches in Matthew 6:32-33.  I especially found "The Message" to be helpful, but perhaps you'd prefer to track it down in a couple of different bible versions.
"Much Grace,"
Pastor Shirley

Reflecting…
Some time back, when we would go camping, we didn’t bring video games or a TV. We did what we called, “entertaining ourselves.” That meant a lot of games and conversations. I soon discovered how limited I am in most trivial pursuit categories.


Here’s an easy one in the Bible category: Question: What is the Great Commission? Answer: Jesus’ words as recorded in Matthew 28: 18-20, “Then Jesus came to them and said, ‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.’"


Like many bible verses, these are easier recited than put into practice. Before Jesus speaks these now-famous words, Matthew comments on the group who are standing there hearing them for the first time. They have been following Jesus, obeying his directives, worshipping him as the Messiah of God. Still verses 16 and 17 close with a troubling phrase: When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. They are not 100 percent convinced. In effect they are ‘followers, but…’


So what is the problem? Why the doubts? What are they doubting? They’ve been there for all the proof. Jesus has performed miracles, blessed and multiplied everything from a net-breaking catch of fish to a lunch of fish and bread. He has calmed storms, halted stonings, listened to sinners, touched and healed the diseased and unclean, ate with embezzlers and other sinners as well as arrogant leaders. He made time to bless children, to read people’s motives, always challenging whatever people substituted for a relationship with the living God. All that and so much more.


When he speaks here, he starts by claiming authority. Can that be the sticking point? What they are doubting? Outsiders have often questioned by what authority Jesus did these things. The deeper question, the very personal question is whether or not they are willing to let him take that authoritative role in their own lives.


Surprisingly, Jesus speaks to these “followers-but” as if they were “followers, therefore…” He says, ‘I have authority, therefore, go.’


You can’t really argue with “go.” It’s not like Jesus’ sometimes-confusing parables. Not a matter of opinion or deliberation. Not even a matter of timing or spiritual gifts. Just “go.”


It is mandatory for those who accept the authority of Jesus Christ in their lives to “go” in the way Jesus will describe in his next breath. Go everywhere, go to make disciples, go to baptize, go to teach. Because, make no mistake, whether or not we are campers, each of us necessarily falls into one camp or the other. Jesus goes with us toward a future that is lively, engaged with others and primed for adventure.


The follow-through question for us is whether we ourselves are ‘followers-but’ or ‘followers-therefore.’


(Now you probably can see why I don’t do well with trivia pursuit answers!)


Grace and Peace,
Pastor Shirley

Reflecting…


My lower back aches, my shoulders ache, my stomach aches and my face aches from the inside out. You know how that feels, don’t you? Just aching all over. Never mind “rest,” as the TV commercials brightly promise, I need a “so I can think medicine.” I can still do a number of things without rest, despite good advice to the contrary, but not much if my thinking is distorted or unreliable. I don’t want to argue with people who would assert that resting is essential to clear thinking. Probably true, but I can’t confirm it from my personal experience; I’ve been in bed all day and I still have cloudy thinking.


It’s probably good that I haven’t had many phone calls on this brain-cloudy day. People worry when I reply in a husky voice. However, God and I have had a good long talk. We talk about you mostly. We started by going over the prayer list printed in the bulletin last week and then I mentioned a couple of more recent prayer requests that have been brought to my attention since. A “normally healthy” day starts there so that wasn’t out of the ordinary. We always thank God for all of you, mentioning you in our prayers. We continually remember before our God and Father your work produced by faith, your labor prompted by love, and your endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ (1Thessalonians 1:2-3).


But this day has still more time for prayer in it. After a while, I began to pray for “right now.” Wherever you are “right now.” Driving to northwest Iowa to attend a funeral. Walking into a church foyer there, looking for a familiar face, someone to hold, comfort and reassure. Or walking through an office door carrying notes from a meeting that just finished, a meeting that generated more work for you. Reaching for the telephone for any number of reasons. Twisting your locker dial and jerking up on the latch, a little frustrated by what someone just said. Or squinting into the sunshine, glad to be out for lunch. Holding a pen over the card you are about to write as you wonder what words to use to comfort Shelly, to encourage John, or to celebrate with Laurie and Bob. Listening for the break whistle. Filing a chart away in a cabinet. Boarding a plane, opening the car door. Following up on something that happened yesterday. Right now God is thinking about you.


Then I pray about nuances I’ve tucked away in this brain somewhere, little things that I wasn’t able to address at the time, but that have been waiting patiently for my attention. The look that came across a pastor’s face when I asked "how are you?" as we were walking into a meeting earlier this week. An instantaneous look that flashed like lightening before the sound of thunder. His voice was like a muted, distant rumble, “Not good. I am questioning a lot of things right now.” But the business meeting was beginning and I wasn't sure how to follow up without embarrassing him then. Today I have time to pray.


I pray for a man down the street who walks with his head down. Tired. Discouraged? A woman who is determined to do everything alone these days. Tense? In denial?


And then God brings to mind the missing. Faces that were not in worship. Voices who have not been in choir. Someone I haven't seen in a long time. The phone call that wasn't returned.


So much seems to have gone missing in this world. We fear the lack of mutual respect and peace between peoples. We search for security. We long for relief. War and famine and storm and all things empty. It's amazing how much our prayers can absorb.


This has been a good day to pray. After all, prayer doesn’t require a lot of clever thinking. Or a clear voice. Prayers are the rapid pulse of hearts drawing near to their Lord.


Much Grace,
Pastor Shirley

Reflecting ...

Ken guessed he was "taking a moment," a phrase that his eldest daughter was prone to overuse lately. He'd never admit to it though. Maybe because of his daughter, the phrase struck him as vaguely feminine and, besides, "taking a moment" just wasn't like him anyway. He imagined that someone had to stand still in order to take a moment and, frankly, he had built a reputation based on not being willing to do that. "The world won't stand still for you," his dad had said, urging him to be aggressive. "I won't stand for that," he himself had said when his own kids were challenging the rules he had set down for them. That way and in numbers of other ways as well, he'd been fast-paced and decisive for years.

But, if he ever were to do such a thing, to "take a moment," this would be the kind of moment he would take, he thought. From here on this rise if he shaded his eyes with his hand, he could see the green in the distance. Nick was a few feet away, teeing off, not paying attention to anything except his ball. He would be next. And usually, that would be the only thing on his mind too, but instead, here he was, soaking it in.

The beginning of an afternoon of golf. Shoot, the beginning of a whole season when you could get away to golf or fish or even climb the bleachers to watch the home team maybe hit one over the fence if you had a mind to. Spring relief. The blessed experience of getting through another winter, when entertainment only came in frozen varieties. Ice-this, snow-that. Ice hockey, snow boarding, ice fishing, snowmobiling...if you took a moment in the winter, you'd likely freeze-frame that way until spring.

But this here was a moment that would thaw the coldest of guys. Gorgeous weather. Birds cutting angles across the sky, taking the shortest route to get where they were going. Crab apples about to burst with blossoms. Sunshine with heat in it for a change. A strong grip. A sure stride. Feeling your muscles stretch.

And that other feeling, what was that feeling? Being grateful. But not the Thanksgiving-Day sort of gratitude when you dutifully figured out your list, he thought. No, this was a welling-up sort of gratitude, that began somewhere deep when you didn't even realize it, like a subterranean stream of water, pressured by the weight of the earth, finally finding its artesian pipeline to the surface. Whoosh! What a day!

How good it is to sing praises to our God, how pleasant and fitting to praise him! ...Sing to the Lord with thanksgiving...He covers the sky with clouds; he supplies the earth with rain and he makes grass grow on the hills. He provides food for the cattle and for the young ravens when they call (Psalm 147: 1; 8-9).

"Ken, you're up."
"Ken?"
"Yeah, yeah, I know. I was just taking a moment, ah, er ... just a minute."
Then, quietly,
"Thank you, Lord. You do good work. Swell day. Thanks."

Much Grace for all your moments,
Pastor Shirley

Reflecting…

One of them, named Cleopas, asked him, "Are you only a visitor to Jerusalem and do not know the things that have happened there in these days?" "What things?" he [Jesus] asked. (Luke 24: 18-19)

"What things?" Jesus asks. What things are you focusing on? It’s the day of his resurrection. The day we know as Easter and which we celebrate with such delight, confidence and wondrous joy! Yet, Jesus’ resurrection day not only began in confusion, but confusion reigned from dawn to dusk. Mary is confused when she cannot find Jesus’ body. ' Now what?' she wonders. For the disciples, the resurrection is inconceivable and therefore, unbelievable. Some run to see for themselves, and late in the evening, another disciple is still insisting on evidence that he can see and handle himself. Somewhere in the middle of all of this, Jesus meets a couple of travelers, not his best friends, not his mother, not the new recruit to replace Judas, but believers who evidently had been in Jerusalem for Passover and now were heading back home. Toward Emmaus. That’s when he asks them what things are weighing so heavily on their minds.

What things are we focused on? Focus is necessary. We talk about focus a lot in the church, in our personal lives, in business, in studies. Focus keeps us, well…focused – that is, it keeps us clear about details, their relevance, their importance. It helps us make decisions and move forward. However, focusing narrowly can sometimes have the side effect of separating related things from each other so much so that we miss the deeper meaning that is evident when they are connected. To understand the acts of God, Jesus makes a case for integrating things. On the road to Emmaus late that afternoon, he pulls things together for these two travelers.

He [Jesus] said to them, "How foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Did not the Christ have to suffer these things and then enter his glory?" And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he explained to them what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself. (Luke 24: 25-27)

To understand, we need to integrate “things” we have known for some time with “things” that are happening at the moment, he says. Beware of the Great Disconnect. Put it all together – a little incident that happened just now, something that didn’t seem important back then, what everyone else always claimed to be true – that’s what leads to an “ah-ha” moment when each of us can exclaim, ‘Oh, now I get it!’ When we integrate, we see things from God’s perspective. Then reasons will become more evident and new, hopeful outcomes as well.

The problem with focusing too narrowly is the loss of emotional balance. Since focus is so much a matter of thinking and planning, we might not realize that focus has an influence on our emotions. Mary’s confusion about where Jesus’ body can be leads immediately to worry and fear. We, too, react to the things we are focused on. Fear, worry, guilt, bewilderment, sadness, grief, eagerness, happiness – all are reactions to how we perceive some particular “things” such as terrorism, a friend’s illness, strange symptoms, loss, a mistake or sin, an upcoming opportunity, a loved one coming to visit, etc. For the two on the road to Emmaus, focusing solely on the immediate details of Jesus death and the puzzling reports that his body cannot be found had squeezed out their hope. That’s the way Jesus had found them.

He [Jesus] asked them, "What are you discussing together as you walk along?" They stood still, their faces downcast (v. 17).

But after he put it all together for them, what a difference!

They asked each other, "Were not our hearts burning within us while he talked with us on the road and opened the Scriptures to us?" They got up and returned at once to Jerusalem. There they found the Eleven and those with them, assembled together and saying, "It is true!” (vv. 32-34a).

Got joy this Easter? Easter joy was never intended to be momentary, a Sunday morning high. It was made to last, from things that were bound to come from the beginning of time and things that will continue into eternity. Our joy depends on how we connect things. And the one to whom we are connected.

Oh, the joy when we begin to comprehend the blessed connection between His Grace and His Peace,
Pastor Shirley

Catching on...

As a kid who grew up spending weekends and summers at the lake, I spent long hours fishing. By “fishing,” however, I actually meant “catching,” “reeling them in,” having something to measure – a “keeper.” I knew about lures and bait. I knew about “good spots” to anchor and also how to troll with the wind. The old, blue, 3-horse Evinrude on the back of the boat spent most of its time with its prop tipped up out of the water because it was only there to bring me home. It was too noisy for fishing; those who fish move quietly.

I didn’t know then about “catch and release.” In my experience, fish weren’t released; they “got away.” In my stories, the “big ones” got away. But in truth, a lot of little ones did too.

That’s the way I probably would have understood God’s grace back then. If an adult were to have sat me down to explain God’s grace to me as a child, I would have been thinking that grace was getting away when you’re caught. When a fish gets away, it’s the fish that’s clever or lucky. Or maybe grace would have seemed like getting what you want. Another day of swimming free, in road-less waters, darting among feather-soft perch weeds where I could hide and feed.

However, one of my Sunday school teachers did explain to me that back in Jesus’ time, they used nets. I remember that because I also remember thinking to myself, ‘Well, then, no one gets a ripped jaw that way.’ (I wasn’t all that skillful with setting the hook.) Perhaps there was more to this.

I also grew up spending weekends year-round at church. Turns out that grace is better than getting what you want. It’s getting something you couldn’t even dream up and finding that it is just what you want! Grace is God’s way of making something impossible, possible. Grace is like a being a fish who learns there is a whole sunshiny, green world above water and then discovering, wonder of wonders, that you don’t have to wring oxygen out of water after all, straining out a molecule here and there just to exist. Discovering you can breathe air directly and there is so much of it!

Even back then, it would have been clear to me that this would take a miracle. That no fish would be clever enough to pull it off. Or even believe such a thing if it were taught in fish schools. The catch-and-release survivors would be sure to show up and tell their own stories, stories that made themselves look good.

Our church tradition sets forth three movements of faith: guilt, grace and gratitude. Guilt is facing reality. This is who I really am. (Guilt is not news, really, despite my objections and avoidance.) Gratitude is our motivation for following Jesus, for loving and going and speaking and lifting and serving. (Yes, gratitude -- not the expectations of others or guilt or persuasion or our generosity.) In between is grace.

Yet, sometimes the church doesn't make sense to people. After all, who wants to hear about their sins week after week? Who wants to be judged? Or who wants to be prodded continually to do more for others? “I have all I can handle to work and to make time for my family and myself. No, thanks. I don't want to get hooked on anything else. Don't want to be caught up in anything like that.” They’re right to some extent. You can’t pick up the practices of faith and assume that is the whole of it.

The truth is that neither guilt nor gratitude makes any sense without grace. They go against the current of everything we know. Can we stop squirming and trying to get away long enough to realize we are being rescued, not caught, by the hand of God? Do we know this Jesus who chooses to spend time in the boats of fisherman? Can we fully realize that his bloodied hand is covered in his own blood, not ours? Grace doesn't make any sense without the cross.

For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God (1 Corinthians 1: 18)

"Much Grace..." Pastor Shirley

Just asking...

“Were you there when they crucified my Lord?”

Those are the opening words of an extraordinary gospel song, first sung by African American slaves, bringing to mind the death and resurrection of our Lord. But more than bringing to mind. Shaking us to the core. “Sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble…”

“Were you there?” Immediately the question draws me in, inviting me to consider what I’ve witnessed. In a dark night, a falling star leaves a sparkling trail as it burns in the earth’s atmosphere and my impulse is to turn to someone near me to ask if he saw what I just saw. How much more so this one who, for a short while, has shed light into my personal darkness? This one I have come to know as “my Lord.” Crucified. Extinguished. “Sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble…”

Were you close enough to hear and see for yourself “when they nailed him to the tree?” Did you hear the solid thud of the hammer on the head of the nail? Did the finality strike you too? Did it all seem to swirl around you, the sound of wailing women, the folds of his robe taken in hand by someone who thought he’d just won a bet? Does the sheer injustice of it cause you to tremble, tremble, tremble?

“Were you there when they laid him in the tomb?” Getting it done quickly. Too quickly. Promising each other that they’d return and make it right somehow. Not knowing how they would keep that daring promise. Outwitted, out numbered, out of options. Outcasts. Were you there? Did you tremble?

And, Glory, Glory, amazing sight! My Lord and my God! Were you there when he rose up? Did you hear your name? Did you reach for him? Touch his hands? Recognize him when he blessed the evening bread? Or stoked the charcoal fire on the beach until sparks flew into the dawning sky? Were you there when he asked, do you love me, do you love me, do you really love me?

Does it cause you and I to tremble?
Perhaps the most troubling word in this song is “sometimes.”

And yet, we who are the “sometimes” sort are nevertheless redeemed by an “always” God.

Oh…Sometimes that truth alone is enough to cause me to tremble!

"Much Grace..." Pastor Shirley