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
Monday, May 4, 2009
Monday, April 20, 2009
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
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
Friday, February 27, 2009
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
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
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)