Standing Up to the Storm

This is the sermon I offered on June 21 in response to the shootings at Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, SC.

Today’s text is from the gospel according to Mark. Let us attend to the reading of the word:

⁵ Later that day, when evening came, Jesus said to them, “Let’s cross over to the other side of the lake.” ³⁶ They left the crowd and took him in the boat just as he was. Other boats followed along.

³⁷ Gale-force winds arose, and waves crashed against the boat so that the boat was swamped. ³⁸ But Jesus was in the rear of the boat, sleeping on a pillow. They woke him up and said, “Teacher, don’t you care that we’re drowning?”

³⁹ He got up and gave orders to the wind, and he said to the lake, “Silence! Be still!” The wind settled down and there was a great calm. ⁴⁰ Jesus asked them, “Why are you frightened? Don’t you have faith yet?”

⁴¹ Overcome with awe, they said to each other, “Who then is this? Even the wind and the sea obey him!”

Jesus had been teaching folks all day long. He was tired – if you’re so tired you can sleep in an open boat with a gale raging, you’re tired – and he said “Let’s go to the other side.” We don’t know if he knew what was waiting for him on the other side of the lake – it happened to be a demon possessed man, according to Mark – but I think he was hoping to escape the crowds and have some peace and quiet.

Why do we change locations? We do so for a new job, or a better house, or a peaceful vacation. Why did the chicken cross the road? Probably because she thought there were better things on the other side. Isn’t that usually the case? When we move to the other side, we’re hoping that there is something good waiting for us there.

O Lord of mercy, we surely need to get to the other side.

This week something terrible happened in an historic downtown church established a few years before ours. It happened this past Wednesday night, during a bible study. That’s the same night 14 of us were in the Fellowship Hall having a bible study. Ours ended peacefully around 7:30. In Charleston, SC, 9 people were shot to death for no other reason than the color of their skin.

Based upon what we’ve been told, try to imagine that night, A dozen or so folk gathered for bible study and prayer. They all knew one another, probably very well. They laughed as they shared the easy companionship of fellow Christians, ready to delve into the word, ready to rest in prayer. They asked one another how the day had been and what their families were doing that evening. They talked about what they had for dinner and maybe they planned to go out for a piece of pie after the class was done.

It was a Wednesday night like all of the other Wednesday nights. Coffee was poured, bibles were opened. It was sister Myra Thompson’s turn to teach, something she did well. As is typical of these kinds of studies, three or four folk would most likely dominate the discussion, the others listening thoughtfully, adding an insight or asking a question from time to time.

But this Wednesday night was different. A young man came in the room. He was white. If a young black man had walked into our bible study, I would have asked him his name, offered him some of the food we had, and asked if he wanted to join us. That’s probably exactly what the good folk of Emanuel AME Church did. They were a bit wary at first, as we would have been if the tables were reversed. But he took a cup of coffee. He sat down. He was there for an hour, listening to Myra point out the finer points of scripture, listening to the discussion. They eventually relaxed in the presence of the stranger. What a nice young man. So quiet, so polite. They probably weren’t sure why a young white man strayed into their church, but what a blessing when the races come together in harmony.

O Lord of mercy, we need to get to the other side.

It has been a long time out on the stormy lake of bigotry and prejudice.  How can it be that in 2015, 150 years since the end of the US civil war during which we as a country ended legal enslavement of people of any race, but particularly the people of African descent – how can it be that we are still tossing and turning on the lake of racism?

I still know people who single out an entire race or ethnicity – African Americans, Asians, Mexicans, Arabs…..you pick your own enemy…. and have declared them all, each and every one of them to be something less than human, something less than worthy of love and consideration. Sometimes this prejudice was acquired as the child of bigots; sometimes it is due to an unfortunate experience with a person or persons of a particular race or ethnicity. But I daresay that these same people have had bad experiences with people of their own race or ethnicity, and they do not condemn themselves or their families because of those experiences. But somehow when the “other” has skin of a different hue or speaks a different language it’s ok to condemn the entire group.

Yet, in the same way it is wrong to say “All men hog the remote control” or “All women are crabby at that time of the month” it is wrong to ascribe certain traits or actions to an entire body of people. Would you like it if everyone in Olathe assumed that everyone who was a member of this church was exactly like the one or two people they know here? Of course you wouldn’t.

O Lord, how can we get to the other side where we don’t generalize about people?

As heinous as this act and many others like it are, perpetrated by people of all different races and creeds (or lack thereof), many of us are content to stay where we are. We’re being tossed about by the violence and the cruelty, but we’re used to it. It is human nature to want to stay with what we know, even if it isn’t good. As the disciples were being wind burned and half drowned in the boat that day, they knew Jesus was tired, so they probably tried to battle the storm for as long as they could, incredulous that Jesus could just lay there sleeping while they were in fear for their lives. They’d been there forever it seemed; yet what could they do?

Eventually they had to wake him up. They had to say “We can’t deal with this any longer by ourselves. He’s GOT to wake up, if only to commiserate with us.” So they woke him, and demanded to know just why he was sleeping? Didn’t he care what happened?

Jesus shook his head – I can just see it – sleep matted in his eyes, wet hair plastered to his face, a pillow mark from where he had been sleeping so hard that wind and water could not wake him—and he looked at the terrified men and questioned their lack of faith. Yet how could they have faith in the middle of the storm that seemed so bad that it might wash them overboard into the turbulent lake, that it might capsize the boat,  or destroy the boat altogether? In what or whom should they have faith?

But then he commanded the wind and the waves. He told them to stop. AND THEY DID! If the disciples were scared for their lives before, how scared were they now? How could they even process what was happening?

It’s time for us to ask Jesus to stand up in this boat. It’s time for each of us to turn to the Christ and ask for guidance, for wisdom, for courage and most importantly, to be able to acknowledge our brokenness and move toward our sisters and brothers whose skin is darker than ours or whose language is different from ours. Until every person of color can walk and drive wherever they want without fear of harassment or arrest or even death, until that day we’re all being tossed about by the waves of prejudice. Until we can rid ourselves of the need to demonize the “other” we are drowning. It’s time for us to recognize our baptism in Christ, to call upon the Christ within us.

When Jesus stood up in the boat and calmed the wind and the waves, he asked the disciples, “Why are you frightened? Don’t you have faith yet?” I confess that my faith is weak when it comes to the issue of racism. It is as old as time itself, this desire to keep to our own kind, this suspicion of the “other.” But if Jesus could call upon the power of God to calm the elements, cannot we call upon the power of God to uproot the fear of the other? Can’t we call upon God to give us courage to speak up when we see injustice? Surely we can.

I don’t consider myself a racist – you probably do not either. Yet we have not done much to try to eliminate racism. Instead of quietly disdaining people who make racist comments, instead of decrying acts of unspeakable violence by commiserating with one another, it’s time to stand up to the storm and speak a word of calm. Jesus didn’t say “Love your neighbor who looks like you”. He said “Love your neighbor…” whoever that neighbor might be. That means standing up within our tribe and speaking the truth in love to those who carry hatred and disdain in their hearts.

Perhaps, though, we’d rather keep bailing water out of the boat. Perhaps we’d rather just stay in the middle of the lake and hope that the storm passes before it destroys us, because we’ve been in it so long we’ve forgotten where we are going.

O Lord of truth, mercy and grace, we need to get to the other side. And we have faith that you can get us there. Amen.

If

When irrepressible twins Harry and Lorie were born, everyone was thrilled. Twins didn't happen on either side of the equation. We attributed the tiny miracles to the "advancing" age of their mother -- 35 at the time.

Now the twins are approaching their nineteenth birthday. They both excelled in school; Harry took after his father and grandfather, being more mechanical in nature. Lorie was the artistic one. Her singing voice was a beautiful, lilting soprano; she starred in every high school production. They are both now in college, with Harry studying electrical engineering and Lorie pursuing a theater major with a Spanish minor.

Their parents couldn't be more proud of either one of them.

Harry and Lorie don't have siblings -- but they have slightly older cousins, even though it is their oldest aunt who has the youngest children. They always had a great time when their aunts and uncles and cousins gathered for holidays. Their cousin Emily shepherded her younger brother and the twins as they built snowmen and anxiously awaited the time when they could open the white elephant gifts that were somehow better than real gifts.

Harry (short for Harold) was named for his father and grandfather; Lorie (short for Lorene) for her paternal grandmother. The twins mother was their father's second wife. They found one another as they were both recovering from their respective divorces. They helped one another find a reason to live instead of drowning their sorrows.  They built a beautiful life together. They rode motorcycles cross country. He and she devoted time to raising money to find a cure for cancer, as this was what had claimed his dad and her mom. After almost ten years of marriage the twins were born. They took to parenting with relish. He coached little league and she taught them piano. They took vacations to Disney World and all of the National Parks they could reach because they loved to camp together.

This is the story of the sister-in-law who never arrived. It's the story of a brother who thrived instead of merely survived, only to pass on much too early. It is the story of two children (perhaps there might have been 3 or 4 -- who knows) who won't help the world become a better place because they were never born. The story may have had other unknown ripple effects -- another brother who might never have suffered from a severe brain injury because a motorcycle that was not lent to him. A little girl that might never have been born because that second brother did not divorce when he did.

I do not know why I am compelled to write this story, or why it has continued to haunt me. While my brother Mike was alive I said many times that he would have been a wonderful parent. I truly believe that. I have often wondered about the various crossroads in my own life, and where the other path might have led, and how the world might be different because I took a different route. Some say that such speculation is foolish. Perhaps it is.

But something within me wants to contemplate the "what ifs" in life. Perhaps contemplating them helps to keep me more aware of my daily choices, not to cripple me with indecision, but to urge me to care.

I love all of my siblings, and nieces and nephews that do exist in the here and now. I miss all those who have gone on to a different plane of existence.

And I grieve for those who might have been.

I cut him off

Almost every day I come to Olathe from Overland Park. I brave the I-435 construction (which surprisingly rarely slows me down) and take I-35 south, dodging semis and slower cars. I give thanks almost everyday for the dedicated lanes to 119th Street, because they speed up my commute. Eventually I reach Santa Fe and turn right to head downtown to the church.

If you've ever taken that Santa Fe exit, you know that there is a very short entry lane before you have to move to the left to stay on the street. During the day there is always quite a bit of traffic, so I try to be conscientious in checking before I enter the lane. But late last week, I looked but failed to see someone in a white company truck -- I assume he was in my blind spot -- and I cut him off.

This would not be remarkable except for one thing. The driver became very angry. As I was stopped at the light he pulled up in the left turn lane, stopped his truck, rolled down his window yelled at me and saluted me with a bird-like gesture. (I've never known why we call it "flipping the bird" so I went onto the interwebs for enlightenment. You can take your own journey if you'd like.) In any case, this guy was mad. I shrugged, said "I'm sorry, I didn't see you" and he pulled forward and completed his left turn.

I wasn't scared. I was pretty sure that he wasn't really threatening me. It would have been truly remarkable if he'd taken the time to go any further. (Although in this day of carrying hand guns....glad I didn't think of that at the time.) But I couldn't help but ruminate on why he had been so upset.

When someone cuts me off, I do momentarily react with unkind words, although I wish I didn't. But over the years I have determined why that is. It's because for just a few seconds I am afraid. When someone cuts you off you have to change your speed or you'll  hit them, and sometimes we don't have enough space to successfully avoid an accident. The adrenaline spikes and the fight or flight reaction starts and then BAM! our fear becomes anger. And that so-and-so who just caused us to be afraid should, at the least, be caused to grovel at our feet and beg our forgiveness.

Never mind that each and every one of us has, more than likely, cut someone else off in traffic at one time or another. Unless you're playing a game of revenge and purposely pull in front of someone to teach them a lesson (which has also happened to me after accidentally cutting someone off), it was done by accident, not for malicious purposes. So why is it that we jump to anger and a hateful response instead of to forgiveness?

I know that the physiological reason is the excess adrenaline. But I think there is more to it.

We feel entitled to our space. We feel entitled to feel secure and safe. If we let others do such things to us without comment maybe they will think they can just do it anytime they want to anybody they want.

Is that attitude what we learn from Jesus?

I imagine that Jesus had adrenaline pumping through his body a time or two or seven, especially after he started walking around talking about the kingdom of God and angering the powers-that-be. They were after him, and he was dodging and weaving much of the time. Anger was not the emotion that he displayed, although I imagine he had plenty he could be angry about. People were as annoying then as they can be now.

Compassion was Jesus' strong suit. It's one of the things that I admire most about him, one of the things that I aspire to learn from his example. It's not easy to go from fright to anger to compassion -- but I believe it is possible. And desirable. Not just because Jesus did it, but because it's good for me.

The sooner I let anger go and pick up the banner of compassion, the sooner my heart rate drops and my insides unknot, and that's a good thing. Anger is not a luxury that I can afford. It eats up my insides and time is doing that quickly enough as it is.

So yes, I cut the dude off that day, and I was really sorry I had scared and angered him. I wish that during that the 3 second encounter with his anger that my apology could have helped bring down his blood pressure, but I'm pretty sure it didn't. I have no idea what else was going wrong with his day; I might have just been the thing to send him over the tipping point.

I hope that he learns that anger is an expensive luxury, and most of us cannot afford very much of it. Forgiveness and compassion are sometimes difficult to find, but they are there for the taking, and are far better for everyone concerned.

Israel Day 1

Originally written in May of 2014; published on December 31, 2014.

I'm sitting on the balcony of my 6th floor room at the King Solomon Hotel in Netanya. It is a hazy, pleasant morning on the Mediterranean Sea.  I don't think I've ever slept so well (although up and down as usual.) The sounds of the waves pulsing onto the shore are powerfully hypnotic.

We spent about 15 hours yesterday reaching this ancient land. It would seem the height of ingratitude to complain about cramping knees or restless legs, or about the length of time between meals or the sprint through the Philadelphia airport to m make the connection when I was wearing very non-sprinting sandals, so instead I will shout alleluia for traveling mercies and safe and uneventful flights and the miracle of aerodynamics that picks us up on one side of the ocean and deposits us on the other, time confused but intact.

Netanya is about an hour north of Tel Aviv.  Already I am beginning to appreciate that the tiny sliver of country on the map is actually a place about the size of New Jersey.  The city is surrounded by ancient places but is itself very modern, being built in the 1950's. This bit of incongruity is indicative of the country - ancient and timeless, and yet very much a land of the 20th century.

The New Pastor

August, 2014
I am entering into my third week as Senior Minister of First Christian Church in Olathe. I am sure that my mother is smiling down from heaven upon me --- she never did get the knack of the name of the denomination: Christian Church (Disciples of Christ). She proudly told all of her fellow Catholics that I was being ordained into the "First Christian Church" some 11 years ago. She had been raised in the First Christian Church, and so that's what they all were to her. So Mom -- I've finally arrived, after serving other Christian churches that weren't "First".

These first weeks have been a whirlwind of faces that have no names and names that have no faces. I'm slowly but surely matching them up. I have been very welcomed, and folks are kind enough to keep introducing themselves to me. But starting at a new church, leaving behind the certainty of knowing each and every name and face and, more importantly, each connection and quirk, is both exciting and draining. It's not as simple as getting Betty or John's name right. It's more about knowing that she has a sick husband or he is a recent widower or that there's been a feud between the church's version of the Hatfields and McCoys for nigh on to 30 years. Who is a Long Time Member (and how long is long?) and who is relatively new?

In worship I find myself checking the order of worship over and over -- not that it is so radically different than what I'm used to, but making sure that I'm going to be in the right place at the right time. The power went out in the church during the first hymn this Sunday, and my first thought was would I be able to wing my message without any notes. Fortunately, the lights (and ac!) came back within a couple of verses.

December 31, 2014
I find that I started this and did not post it. I'm making that resolution (again!) to try and develop this blog, so I'm going to post it 4 months later. I recognize more people at my church now; slowly but surely I'm learning the connections and the traditions. We've made some changes, and we've got more to make, but we are slowly becoming inextricably connected, the way pastors and congregation do.
I'm still the "New" pastor, but as we learn more and more about one another I will become one among the many faces hanging on the wall in the History room.

As I begin 2015

Tomorrow the calendar will read "2015". This is the year that Marty McFly of "Back to the Future 2" ventured to. It's the year that Doc changed the power for the DeLorean flying time machine from 1.2 gigawatts of electricity into garbage-powered Mr. Fusion. In 1989, when the movie was released, 2015 was merely a number. I calculated how old would I be in 2015, and I couldn't imagine being that old, (THIS old). What would my life be like in 2015? It turns out it is nothing at all like I would have expected.

Among the many unexpected circumstances of my life is my continued involvement with youth ministry. I'll be spending the first weekend of 2015 with a group of teenagers and young adults. I will easily be the oldest person in attendance at this weekend retreat. Many times in the last few years I have contemplated whether or not I'm too old to counsel such events. Surely there is a limit, right?

In contemplating this question, I ask my self: Do I meet the qualifications for a good counselor? I suppose that depends what qualities one feels are needed. Personally my list is pretty simple: 1. Put the kids needs before your own; 2. Provide a physically, emotionally and spiritually safe place for them; 3. Listen with a caring ear and offer helpful insights when asked for. I feel like I'm capable of meeting these three criteria, so I continue to serve.

I enjoy teenagers and young adults. Because ultimately, they are just folks. They have hopes and dreams and fears just like we do. They have not experienced as much of life as we have, but they are sometimes capable of insight and courage that we experienced folk can shy away from. They speak from a place of "unknowing", which allows them to not only think outside of the box, but to question the existence of the box. This can be a refreshing experience.

Someday I assume I will reach the limit. Someday perhaps I will not appreciate youthful exuberance or silliness. Someday I won't be able to relate to their latest "thing." (Snapchat could be my undoing, but I'm not giving up yet.) I am counting on my younger colleagues to tell me when I'm more of a burden than a help. But until then, I guess I'll keep saying 'yes' when I'm asked to be a part of these youth events. I know some amazing adults today that I first met when they were teens, and my life would be so much less rich if I did not know them.

CYF MidWinter....here I come.

If It's Monday (Is it Monday??)

We flew to London on Monday the 7th. I was really looking forward to being in an English-speaking country again. But something I’ve learned about traveling, particularly in foreign countries, and even if they speak English, is that it takes longer to figure things out than you think it will. For instance – where is the bus stop and the subway depot? I could see the subway info on the map, but the bus info seems to be quite a secret. There is a map on line, but it’s so small you can’t read it! We eventually took a very expensive cab ride to the Lancaster Gate Hotel in Westchester.

I scouted outside the hotel and found the bus stops, the tube stop, and eventually an ATM in a market quite close by. We had tickets for the theater (Noises Off) and made it just in the nick of time, about 30 seconds before the curtain rose. The play was hilarious, and even though all of us knew the play well,(Evan had been in it at South) we laughed a lot. The old, ornate Novello Theater was charming.

Tuesday was The Making of Harry Potter at the Warner Bros. studio. What a treat it was! The props, the sets, the information, the videos of the actors and producers...even though you would think it would break the enchantment, it didn’t. That evening we saw Sweeny Todd. We took the Tube like pros to the theater. We had a dinner deal with our tickets, so we dined at Porters before going to the Adelphi Theater and enjoying the magnificent production. The woman who played Mrs. Lovett also played Delores Umbridge in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

On Wednesday we hit the wall. We missed the train to Stratford after taking a long bus ride to the station. Evan was starting to get sick, and we were all pretty cranky. We tried to get to a production of Twelfth Night in an off West End site, but couldn't get hold of them to find out if they had tickets. So....the women went shopping and the guys stayed behind to watch TV and use the computer.

Thursday was an early morning start, as a shuttle bus picked us up from our hotel to go on a tour of Salisbury, Stonehenge and Bath. Salisbury Cathedral was amazing. Built between 1220 and 1258, it houses one of the original copies of the Magna Carta. Ted found a floor stone dedicated to a couple named “Poore” which was his aunt's middle name and a family name at some point. We were rushed a bit though --- the theme throughout the tour. An hour and twenty minutes seems like a lot for a stop in one of these places, but it is just enough to whet your appetite. It was still amazing though.

Stonehenge was the next stop, and it was not quite as thrilling as anticipated. This was due to lots of things: the weather sucked, with a light rain falling the whole time we were there (and my umbrella safely tucked away on the bus until too late); it was smaller than I imagined (although still impressive when you think about when it was made); and you couldn’t get anywhere close to it (which I totally understand, but it’s still disappointing). All in all, it was worth it to say we had seen it, and I trudged all the way around it even in the rain and the mud, but I think I might have been a bit more in awe if I hadn’t been soaked!

Bath, the home of ancient Roman baths that were originally built in the 1st century, were impressive by any standards. A huge pool in the center, with two smaller pools on the side which were built when Emperor Hadrian determined that women and men could no longer bathe together. Ancient artifacts abound. It was the site of worship to the goddess who had the hot springs all to herself. You could get a glass of the potent mineral water that bubbles up from the ground – I passed, but Emily drank some and said it was terrible. (If you know Emily, you know she said something more colorful.) The town itself was quite enjoyable, but of course we had little time to enjoy it. These tours really make you want to come back and spend a couple of days at the sights – with the exception of Stonehenge.

Evan was pretty miserable the whole time, but was a trooper. He had a fever the evening before, but it had broken thankfully. He walked around Stonehenge in its entirety, went through every sight, and even though we didn’t get him extra medication until Bath, he hung in there. Emily got carsick on the bus, and then woke up with a bad cold the next day, but she too stayed up and moving.

We came back from the tour and immediately grabbed a cab to go to the Queen’s Theater to see “Les Miserables”. Once again, a very fine production. The stage was a rotating circle that kept the action moving. It was quite spectacular.

Friday we spent the day doing the hop on/hop off bus tour of London. We spent six or seven hours and still didn't see everything. Traffic is really heavy, and moving from one site to another was not a quick proposition. But we did see most of the major points. London is an amazing city, and I would gladly go back for another week or two in order to peruse the museums and go through all of the sites. We really experienced just enough to know what we'd really like to delve into if we had the chance in the future.

Tomorrow I'll post about our trips to Paris and back to the US.

Consumed by Time Travel

The intention to blog daily on this trip has been good, but I am hoping that I am not making bricks for a road to an unpleasant destination. Days have been long; everything has taken longer to accomplish than planned; and internet access has not been as readily available as I had hoped. But I am going to give you some highlights from the last few days in Greece.

We visited some amazing ancient ruins in Delphi, another fabulous set of ruins built upon the side of a mountain. I made it about half way before I wimped out. There was another theater there; truly theater was a very important part of that ancient civilization. The countryside on the way to Delphi was so picturesque. We wound our ways from the valleys rimmed by green and craggy mountains until we were upon the mountains themselves. The views were breathtaking.

We stopped on the toll highway on the way back to Athens for a snack. There was a busload of older Greeks that came in right after we did. It reminded me of the FUNagers on a field trip, except many of them were smoking their cigarettes, even though the signs said there was no smoking indoors. Smoking is very prevalent in Greece, and it did not bode well for Jason, who was wearing nicotine patches that made his skin break out. By the way, I need to applaud Jason's skills at driving the roads in Greece, particularly in Athens. He was a ROCK STAR and kept us safe and got us to our destinations while remaining calm and focused. We would not have been able to do much of what we did without his expertise.

On Sunday we were determined to get out to one of the Greek islands, looking for a beach to play upon. According to the Lonely Planet guide book, we could find a quiet beach on Andros. So we took a very early 2 hour ferry ride to get there. What the book didn’t tell us is that the great beaches and the best town was on the OTHER side of the island from where we debarked. And we didn’t bring the car because of the cost. So the four Goldt's packed into a tiny taxi (think clown car without the red noses) and Jason rented a scooter to go to the next town, about 3 miles from the port, in search of a beach. Let's just say that the REALLY good beach (I assume this to be true) was an hours drive away, prohibitive by clown car and scooter. At least we could say we went to a Greek island.

We departed Greece on Monday morning, spending a long time at the airport because the rental car had to be returned and Jason's flight was at 7 am (ours wasn't until 1) and there was no way that I was going to drive in that traffic.

London
The other thing I’ve learned about traveling, particularly in foreign countries, is that things you take for granted at home are not so easily found here. For instance – where is the bus stop and the tube depot? I could see the tube info on the map, but the bus info seems to be quite a secret. There is a map on line, but it’s so small you can’t read it! Where is an ATM? So we took a cab in to the city from Heathrow, a very expensive proposition, but the only way we could see at the time. Fortunately London cabs were adequate for our needs and we were able to leave the circus get-ups behind.

I'll try to post later about London. Right now I've got to get ready to go to the Ebenezer Baptist Church for today's Festival of Homiletics session. (Homiletics = art of preaching; you're not the only one who didn't know that, so I thought I'd explain it.)Yesterday was AMAZING, and I can't imagine what today holds.

Athens

We made it to the National Archeological Museum today. It was as impressive as promised, and the exhibit of the treasures found on a ship that sunk in the 1st century BC was pretty spectacular. But I will be honest: I am on antiquity overload. I was not unhappy that the museum closed earlier than we thought it would today. But just like any great museum, it is meant to be digested in slow pieces, and I bit off as much as I could chew today.

The presidential elections are happening here on Sunday. There have been political rallies outside of our hotel and throughout the city. Nothing violent, but police, including those with riot gear at the ready, are HIGHLY noticeable in the populated gathering areas. Although our hotel is in a less desirable part of town (at least based upon our observations), the only police we see regularly here are the ones directing traffic at the 5-way corner outside our window at 7 am. But I feel safe, even though I’ve been told that my sons have witnessed people shooting heroin on certain streets. It is not unusual here to see a fairly high-end type of store right next to a boarded up, graffiti-tagged building. There’s LOTS of graffiti here, most of which I attribute to the economic situation and the elections. We haven’t watched much TV, since the only channel that is completely in English is the BBC News, and it is coming over an internet feed and stops to buffer every 15 seconds. But right now I have the station on a movie in English (with Greek subtitles), and there are definitely political commercials happening. Even though they are in Greek, it is easy to recognize the camera angles, the earnest speech, the insinuating attitudes against the opponent – politics is pretty much the same no matter where you are.

This evening we went to a very pleasant shopping area in the Monastiraki section of the city. There were tons of people and a great fun atmosphere. It was several blocks of brightly-lit shops, some of which were very American. We ate at an outdoor café and had some remarkable Greek food that was CHEAP! We each had a shot of Ouzo, which was SO good. The moon is full and the night is incredibly beautiful, with a beautiful view of the Acropolis above us. Tomorrow we plan to visit Delphi. Unfortunately, it is too far to drive to Thessaloniki, but the places we are able to reach in a day is fine by me.

Corinth, Epidauros and Nafplio

After arising very early again, I wanted to go to one of the top Archeological Museums in the world which is only a few blocks from here. However,communication between the five of us did not go well, so we didn’t hit the street until after 10:30. We had planned a trip to Corinth, so we skipped the museum and headed out. It’s a little over an hour’s drive to Corinth. There is the new city and there is the ancient site where the Apostle Paul addressed the Greeks. We learned that in the earliest years of Greek civilization, Corinth was more important than Athens. In the small museum next to the ruins there were some very impressive sculptures and artifacts from the four different periods in which Corinth was significant, some dating back to 1500 BCE.

The practice of taking found ruins and adding material to complete the original piece so that the observer can truly appreciate what the artifact represents got me to thinking. It’s a perfect blending of the ancient, original design blended with new materials to make something that elightens the one who is viewing it. I’m playing with what significance that might have for the church. “Emergent” is said by some to be ancient/future church; hmmmmm.

I haven’t mentioned the hotel here in Athens yet. The Hotel Art is on a rounded corner in the heart of Athens. We are actually in a room at that corner.The hotel has lots of “art” in the lobby and throughout the building–hence the name. The most fun piece is the chair that Evan is sitting in here. The foot rest is actually a ball! The whole thing is very rounded and is certainly supposed to be art rather than a chair. But it actually looks very comfortable. .

We visited the Theater at Epidaurus after we left Corinth. What a wonder! 14,000 people can sit in this remarkable place. When you stand on the stage you can speak in a normal tone of voice and be heard throughout the theater. It gives the speaker the same feedback that you hear when you speak into an electric microphone. I declined to climb to the top, but you can see that Evan and Emily did

We ended our day in Nafplio on the Western coast of the Peloponnesus area of Greece. We dined on an entire fresh grouper, which was served with vegetables and bread. In addition to being delicious, it was healthy! We returned to our hotel about 2 hours later. It was almost midnight, but plenty of people were still moving around, so Emily and Evan ventured out for dessert even though their mother was a bit nervous. They found some great crepes and returned safe and sound. I haven't had a chance to download Emily's pictures for the day, but there will be more to come.

Getting High

The time had arrived to get to some serious investigation of the elevated places of Greece, of which there are many. Also, in keeping with the theme of my sabbatical, we were going to start exploring ancient Greek theaters. The first ancient theater we visited was at the Acropolis: the Odeon of Herodes Atticus. It was built in 141 B.C. to honor Herodes Atticus late wife. (Odeon: A kind of theater in ancient Greece, smaller than the dramatic theater and roofed over, in which poets and musicians submitted their works to the approval of the public, and contended for prizes; - hence, in modern usage, the name of a hall for musical or dramatic performances.) It’s located at the base of the hill on which the Acropolis is built. At the center of the Acropolis is the Temple of the goddess Athena (also known as the Parthenon.)

There is an excellent museum that is built over ancient ruins that you can see from through the floors in both the outside entryway and indoors on the main floor. Eventually these ruins will be open for the public to walk through. Inside there was an impressive collection of sculptures and other historical artifacts from the original site. Although this site is known simply as “The Acropolis”, as it is the most famous, there are many other of these high fortifications throughout Greece.

Athens is VERY difficult to navigate while driving. I am so thankful that my son Jason came with us to be our driver! Signaling for turns is unheard of. Lots of motorcycles and scooters here, and they zip between lines of traffic without even blinking. ( I have to say I understand the choice of vehicles: gas translates to over $9 a gallon!) We went looking for a show that explained about ancient Athens and a ten minute drive became 30 because our maps were less than wonderful, and we don’t have GPS. It turned out that the only show in English was in the evening, so we'll try again another day. Then we went looking for a certain shopping district and had very little luck with that. So we ended up back at the hotel at 6:30, and decided it was time to go in search of a meal. Emily has been keeping us informed of the best places to eat based on Foursquare and other reviews. We decided on a place a little over half a mile from our hotel. (Ted stayed behind and ordered room service.) Emily and I were in favor of Greek food, but we deferred to the guys on this one. After all the walking I was done in early. I had been awake since 4:30 Athens time, so I was in my jammies by 8:30. I hope tomorrow to be a bit more acclimated to the local time!

Greece

So....we're here in Greece! Stayed up all night Sunday/Monday morning and headed for the airport a bit after 5 am. Landed at LaGuardia in NYC about 10:30 am, then transferred to JFK, leaving at 4:30 pm. The best I can determine, we arrived at 2:30 am our time, 9:30 am Greek time. We tried to sleep on the plane, but that wasn't nearly as successful as we had hoped. There some issues picking up the car we had rented, but we finally arrived at our hotel safe and sound. The first order of the day was to take showers and naps; now we're up at what would be our dinner time, but I understand that dinner is usually much later in Greece. We're still adapting. We are in the heart of Athens. The hotel we're staying is called Hotel Art --- and it is filled with art of all types, not only on the walls but even some of the furniture. Inside the hotel feels cozy and secure; outside is a bit more mixed. Add to the adventure that signs are not only in a foreign language but in a foreign alphabet, and it will be interesting to see how we navigate. We'll start our serious sight-seeing tomorrow, so I will be sure to post more then. επιφ!

Where the Spirit of the Lord Is...

My church is a very typical mainline church, comprised for the most part of faithful people who are nearing the end of this life's journey. They cannot understand why their children and grandchildren do not attend this church with its stone walls and somber sanctuary. It saddens them that the organ that they love does not pull the younger generation towards God, that the programs that nurtured them do not provide spiritual sustenance for those who are climbing life's mountain instead of aiming downhill.

In the midst of this I know that I am called to help blaze a new trail. I'm called to promote a vision that is compelling enough to help the people overcome their doubt, fears and stubbornness. Why me? Literally, God only knows, because I don't.

Today I was reminded of the story in Numbers where the Israelites had reached the edge of the Promised Land. Moses sent in a team to check out what awaited them across the river. Of the team of twelve, ten of them were convinced that there was no way that they could find a home in that new place. Only two of them, Joshua and Caleb, came back saying "Hey, it's all good. God will be with us. That place is ours for the taking."

The ten told tales of giants too big to slay, cities too fortified to invade and people too numerous to overcome.

Joshua and Caleb said "God is with us. What's the big deal?"

The people listened to the ten. I probably would too. "Let's elect a new leader to take us back to Egypt. Maybe they'll let us be their slaves again and we'll have a place to live and food to eat." It made perfect sense. Moving forward made no sense at all. Joshua and Caleb must have been smoking the wacky weed!

How the heck did the scouting report of Joshua and Caleb become the one that they followed?

Because where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is hope, faith and courage.

The spirit of fear is vanquished.

Translating the vision is also a God thing. The spirit of doubt and discouragement that lives within needs to move over. I don't have time or space for them.

Thanks God, for the reminder.

Becoming Community

The few of you out there that read this blog know that on October 3, World Communion Sunday, we made the unusual move of gathering 4 DOC churches and 2 nesting non-Anglo churches together for worship. The fact that so many people actually voluntarily came together was a wonderful surprise. The fact that probably 20% of the people who would have normally attended worship at their "home" church but did not attend this service was unfortunately not a surprise at all.

All four churches are declining in attendance and increasing in age. Some have been at it longer than others, and some are further down the line toward extinction than others. But they all have one thing in common: there are some in every congregation that refuse to acknowledge that unless something changes that their beloved congregation will die. It doesn't matter what statistics you present them with; they refuse to believe that there are any changes that need to be made.

I realize that it takes a lot of faith to step into the unknown. But isn't that what living is all about? No matter what illusions we have that our lives are under our control, the truth is that we cannot control everything around us. Doesn't faith in God require us to acknowledge that we aren't the center of our universe?

While I don't believe that God is a puppet master, I do believe that there is a higher order to the universe, that God has a preferred outcome for us, and if we open ourselves up to God's leading that we can pursue that outcome. But opening myself up to God's leading probably means that I need to be willing to put aside my own predetermined ideas about what God might have in mind.

It is a joy to say that many people who came together that day ARE willing to explore what God might desire for our churches. The vision that the 5 pastors received during a retreat in August was that our congregations would "die" in order to be resurrected as one new thing. The economics suggest that it is possible, particularly if we leased commercial space instead of trying to build something new.
Yet even though we are very convinced that this was indeed a vision from God, what we are most hopeful for is that all of our congregations will be open to whatever God might be able to do through us.

Growing a new community out of the ashes of four former communities is the real issue. In the days when these churches were established, there was a full church on every corner, and having buildings two to three miles apart was not a problem. There were plenty of people to fill them. There are still as many people to fill them now as there were then -- it's just that the people of today associate our buildings and our way of being "church" as outdated and irrelevant. We can try to survive by struggling to lure people into our crumbling facilities with a handful of people sitting throughout our sanctuaries. But the odds are against us. It hasn't worked so far, so it's hard to imagine that it will work in the future.

Just how different are we, anyway, that trying to build a community would be so difficult? With minor exceptions we worship the same way, our committee structures are similar and we're all the same denomination. The majority of us are fairly "middle of the road" theologically, with some on either side of the middle in each congregation. What's the only thing that is REALLY keeping us apart? The attachment we have to the bricks and mortar.

We are drowning and instead of climbing onto a life raft we are insisting on hanging on to the hull of our respective ships. We'd rather go down with the ship than sail into new life. Does this make any sense?

It's never easy to build a community.

In the Thick of It

I returned from a 12 day vacation a week ago. Those 12 days included 2 Sundays, which was a first for my 8 years in ministry - 2 Sundays off back to back. I'm grateful that my congregation supports the time that staff takes to relax and re-create. I was in dire need of it, and didn't really start to relax fully until three or four days into it. By that point if I'd been taking my usual 7 days off I would have started gearing up mentally for returning. This time I could postpone that and even delayed it until about two days before I was to return. It made a world of difference.

But now it's been a week already and in some ways I feel like I never left. But in others I can see that my energy is renewed and my enthusiasm is higher than it was when I left. But what has happened is that the time I was taking to spend on exercise has plummeted, and that will make me very tired in short order. I've got to realize that without exercise I'll be thicker than I am at this moment, both mentally and physically.

There are big things ahead for me in the next few weeks. I've got to be at my mental and spiritual best. I scheduled a 2 day conference months ago before I knew what would be on my plate the first Sunday of October. As I started to think about being gone I started to bemoan that the timing was all wrong, but I've spent the money and can't get it back. As I think about it I am realizing that the trip might be a blessing rather than a curse. It will be a time for me to spend with other pastors and hopefully to get even more excited about the task that lays ahead.

On October 3 I will be preaching to at least 5 and perhaps 6 congregations, 2 of which are ethnic. The congregations are gathering together to celebrate World Communion Sunday. Not only are we gathering together for this celebration, but I am also going to be sharing with these people the vision that the five pastors have had for the future. "Doing great big things in a great big way for a great big God." We had a retreat last month and an impossible vision was laid on our hearts, so we're pretty sure that God is in it. The task of sharing this has fallen to me, and I am humbled, proud, honored and excited. I'm not really scared -- at least not this minute. I'm excited though, and sometimes my excitement chokes me up, both physically and mentally. So I'm praying for calm in the midst of the excitement so that I can be coherent and effective with my words. I'm only going to be able to do that if I take care of myself though.

So I won't be in the thick of it.

Thoughts on Patriotism and Christianity

As a minister I often receive forwarded e-mails from my congregation such as this one: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dlfEdJNn15E. This is of a tour of the capitol lead by a pastor. The main focus is about our founding fathers being Christian, with visual evidence from paintings in the Capitol and other evidence from letters, etc. I have not researched the accuracy of the statements made in the video, but I am willing to take them as being factual.

What is implied but not said in the video is that the United States of America was founded as a Christian nation with Judeo-Christian values and therefore our government should be promoting Christianity. These are my words and not theirs, but this is the context in which I place these comments.

While it may be factual that many of the first citizens of this country were Christian, these same Christians stated in the 1st Amendment to the Constitution the following: "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances."

When the writers of this amendment wrote it they were probably thinking of different sects of Christianity and perhaps Judaism. However, I've also been told that the level of church attendance around the time of the Revolution and during the writing of the Constitution was almost as low as it is today. A generous estimate is that 20% of our population is in worshiping in some house of worship in any given week. Some of the low attendance at that time might be attributed to people living in rural areas without access to churches, but it's my understanding that church attendance in the cities was not high either. That low attendance might not have been a sign of lack of faith, although it certainly was indicative of a lack of public worship. If you ask Americans today if they believe in God and if they pray the percentages are pretty high, somewhere between 85% and 90% is usually quoted. But that doesn't mean that they are all Christian, or attending a Christian church, or practicing a Christian life.

Just because government declares a religion the "official" state religion doesn't necessarily mean the citizens embrace that religion. Until the year 2000 the Lutheran church was the official church of Sweden. Yet I just went to the official website for Sweden and this is what it said: "In practice, Sweden is very secularized. The Church of Sweden is Evangelical Lutheran;[it] co-exists with many other beliefs."

Some Christians think the government persecutes Christianity, citing instances such as Christmas displays removed from city squares. Yet the school year still revolves around Christian holidays, especially Christmas. Should we be closing school for holidays celebrated by other religions? Or, should we Christians, like most other religions, be confronted with the choice to send our kids to school on a holy day or keep them home to observe it?

If our government was going to promote Christianity, I have two concerns:

1. Who gets to decide what kind of Christianity is acceptable? and

2. If a citizen chooses some other kind of religion or no religion, is it acceptable to ask the government to promote that too?

The Declaration of Independence says "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness." If I am a citizen who chooses not to be religious, am I receiving equal treatment if I am subjected to government promotion of religion?

Perhaps we need to be careful what we are praying for. A prayer for the United States to "once again be a Christian nation" might be answered in the affirmative. But what if that Christianity wasn't YOUR brand of Christianity?

Hmmmmmm......

New beginnings

Every time someone new comes to a staff they bring great expectations. We look at the new person as the catalyst that will get the rest of us excited again. We expect the new person to bring in new ideas and new perspectives that will re-energize us in our work. Many times this is the case, and sometimes it isn't.

I've lived through both situations, and more often than not I was the one who had hired or recommended the person. Sometimes things have turned out mostly like I'd planned, and sometimes they've been even BETTER than I've planned. But I'd say on an average I've made the right decision in personnel about 75 to 80% of the time. That leaves a lot of wiggle room for disappointing decisions though.

In the next two weeks we have two new people starting here at the church. One is a director for our child care program and the other is coming to lead youth ministry. I know how I think they should affect the rest of us. Yet who really knows what will happen? One of them I've known for several years and have even worked with before. The other I just met a week ago. But I've hired people I thought I knew and things didn't turn out as I expected, and I've hired people who I didn't know and things have been better than expected. (And vice versa of course.)

We never really know the details we need to know about a person until we've been put in the same "corral" for a while. This is true in the workplace, in marriage, in any kind of relationship that requires regular interaction. There are always kinks to be worked out, expectations to clarify (on both sides), and just the general "get-to-know-your-work-style" phase. But after we get moving, we tend to let things coast (or at least I do.) And that's not the way to keep any relationship healthy.

So here I am hoping to change that approach this time. I want to be more responsive on a regular basis to both of these people, meeting with them regularly to discuss the joys and challenges they face and we face together. I can't take for granted that they will (or even should) see things the way I do. We need to be intentional about our relationship just as we should be intentional about ALL our relationships.

My prayer is for perseverance, to continue to climb the mountain that is ahead of any good relationship. It's always so easy to coast. I want to keep pedaling!

Is Excess Ever Good?

I've often said "Anything worth doing is worth doing to excess." This mantra has gotten me into trouble (such as with excess food) but it can also be a lot of fun (such as excess time spent playing). I realize that many promote the idea of complete moderation in all things. I know that there are lots of reasons that moderation should be the norm. Moderate political policies appeal to many people. Moderate use of resources is to be applauded. Moderate portions of food keep one from being overstuffed.

But aren't there occasions and seasons of life when excess is actually a good thing? Excessive enthusiasm about a vision might be the best way for the vision to be realized. Who wants to follow a leader who says "Here's the vision. I think it's really good. You should follow this vision."? Wouldn't you rather follow someone who is SOLD OUT for the vision. HEY PEOPLE... LOOK WHAT A GREAT IDEA THIS IS? WOULDN'T YOU LIKE TO JOIN ME IN MAKING THIS GREAT THING HAPPEN? (imagine someone who is bouncing up and down with enthusiasm as this is said.) You might think they're a little strange, and you might not agree with the vision, but at least you'd know that THEY believe in it.

Or how about people who have excess money? Isn't philanthropy fueled by those who have, for whatever reason, accumulated so many resources that they are able to give away some of it for the good of others? I'll grant you that I'll probably never be rich, and perhaps that is why I have this belief that those to whom much has been given much is to be expected. If I was a billionaire maybe I wouldn't think that way, but I would hope that the generosity that I practice today would not diminish but would actually increase if I accumulated excess money.

Can we ever have too much of a good thing? Love, generosity, talent, wisdom. Can we ever be excessively kind (not phony kindness but REAL GENUINE CONCERN for others), or excessively empathetic or excessively enthusiastic? I guess it's possible.

But I'm holding on to my mantra. It is a nice accompaniment to "Better to ask for forgiveness than permission." But that's another post.

I don't have time to write in this blog. But I have decided that it is one of those little disciplines in life that are good for me. So Here I Am Lord.

There are lots of changes going on in my world. We just hired two new people that I am responsible for overseeing. I am one of 5 pastors who have had a vision that we are praying about, laying out a fleece to see if it's God's idea or ours. My youngest child (and this time he really IS IT) is now officially a senior in high school, and the changes that brings are already making me feel wistful and a bit sad. But I'm the one who rallies around the cry "Change is good!" But it's also not the easiest route to travel.

I thought I'd also start posting my sermon manuscripts here from time to time, although that makes me a bit nervous. Mostly because what I write is often not what I end up saying. But, for what it's worth, I'm posting it here. Let me give credit to Andy Stanley and his book "The Principle of the Path" here before I post it. I've been using it for this month of Sundays as the basis for the sermon series. Usually I credit him in the sermon, but since this is number 4 of 5 I didn't this week. My bad. Here it is:

The Heart of the Matter Jer 17:9-10; Jn 8:31-32
Rev. Suzi Goldt August 15, 2010

The Principle of the Path:
“Direction, not intention, determines destination”

Let’s be honest. Most of us are bright enough to know that this principle is indisputable. We might not always SEE what’s at the end of the path, but when we look backward we can usually, if we’re truthful, see exactly how we got to where we are today. We can look back at the financial decisions we’ve made, the life-style decisions we’ve made, the relationship decisions we’ve made and say “Yep – that’s where everything came together for me.” Or “Darn – I really wish someone would have told me that I’d end up here; I would have gone a different direction.” And sometimes we look back and see that we were forced on to a detour that we didn’t want to take: the loss of a job; the death of a spouse; the downturn of the economy. Things like these are just like the big “DETOUR” signs around my neighborhood right now as they rebuild the Overland Parkway, otherwise known as 69 Highway or to really long-timers, the Switzer Bypass. There is no choice. I cannot get on where I normally do, and it usually adds a few minutes to any destination I’m heading for.

We’re all reasonably smart people with pretty good brains and lots of common sense. But we’ve all made decisions that we knew were NOT going to take us where we wanted to go from the minute we made them. Our intelligence didn’t stop us. For example, how many of us have taken on a payment for something that we just HAD to have, something like a new TV, a new car, a new kitchen, a time-share at the lake… I’ll bet each and every one in this room has, at some time, justified some action that really wasn’t totally justifiable. Sure, we might have been able to afford it. But we didn’t have any real NEED for it; we just WANTED it.

Take Chuck for instance. His wife had a perfectly good SUV. Chuck took it down and traded it in for a new one. The reason he TOLD himself that he bought it was “I got it because the other one was eating us alive with poor gas mileage. This one is more fuel efficient.” Give me a break. NOBODY buys an SUV if the real reason is fuel efficiency. The best SUV couldn’t possibly be as fuel efficient as a smaller car. But that was the reason that helped justify the purchase for Chuck. If he’d been honest, he probably would have said “The reason I bought it is because the new one looks better, smells better, has a Bluetooth and some smokin’ hot twenty-inch wheels.”

Now I don’t mean to pick on car purchases. We can do this with just about anything. We all know that we have.

The question is: Why do we do that?

We talked about making wise, prudent decisions last week. And we all know that the wise decision will take us down the path of ultimate happiness. But here’s the rub. Our IMMEDIATE HAPPINESS isn’t always stroked when we’re prudent. We are constantly on the prowl for that buzz of happiness that happens right NOW. We tell ourselves we should be happy that we take our money and put it into a savings account for a rainy day. But when we just saw that shiny new THING, that we had to have, like an18 foot bass fishing boat with 100% unsinkable level flotation, lifetime structural hull warranty, pro seat with power pole, and Teleflex sea star hydraulic steering,

or that beautiful solid oak dining set including a 10 foot extendable table with 8 chairs and a china hutch with two wood-framed, beveled glass doors, 3 adjustable glass shelves and halogen lights,

WE’RE NOT ALL THAT HAPPY!


And we should think: “I’ve got that money that I’ve been saving for future house repairs. Won’t it be wonderful to have the money to pay for a new roof when it starts to leak? That will make me happy.”

Of COURSE we don’t think that.

We think “I’d be very happy if I had that boat. It’s the coolest boat I’ve ever seen.” And then we start in with the justification. “I’d probably catch more fish in that boat because it would take me out farther into the lake and it would be more comfortable so I’d fish longer. And if I caught more fish we could eat them and we’d save money on our grocery bill. And I can take my grandchildren fishing with me and we’ll have a wonderful time.” (That excuse works even if that the grandchild isn’t even conceived yet.)

Or

“That dining set is JUST what I’ve been looking for. It is so beautiful.” And the justification stage kicks in “I can host all kinds of family dinners; we’ll really bond as a family around the table. The china hutch will hold my grandmothers china and my children will be enriched by the heritage of the stories that I’ll tell them about my grandmother.”

You get the point.

In the Message version of the writings of the prophet Jeremiah we read:
9-10"The heart is hopelessly dark and deceitful, a puzzle that no one can figure out. But I, God, search the heart
and examine the mind. I get to the heart of the human.
I get to the root of things. I treat them as they really are,
not as they pretend to be." Jeremiah 17:9-10 (the Message)
We lie to ourselves every day so that we can have what we want when we want it.

We don’t NEED the Starbucks coffee. We can brew coffee at home whenever we want for a lot less; even if we can’t bring ourselves to do that we can buy it at McDonalds. But we LIKE Starbucks better, and it makes us happy; so we buy it. Maybe we justify the $20 or $30 we spend a week on coffee by saying “It’s my one little luxury that I allow myself to have.” There’s nothing wrong with that. Let’s just be honest though; it’s not the ONLY luxury we have. Our entire lives are more luxurious than most of the rest of the world.

There’s nothing wrong with wanting what we want; but the only way to coolly examine our wants and recognize them as wants instead of needs is to be HONEST with ourselves. We are so used to justification that we automatically jump to those thoughts in order to make our wants OK. We can’t live wise, prudent lives on paths that lead to our ultimate destination if we’re not sure where we are right now. That’s why we’ve got to be honest with ourselves.

We might decide to go ahead and be unwise. We might know that a particular decision is going to take us down a path that will eventually lead us to a dead end, or even a destructive end. Prudent, wise people wouldn’t go there and we know it. But today we say “I’m going into the jungle knowing it’s full of poisonous snakes and deadly spiders. But that’s what I want to do and I’m going to do it.” No justification, just honesty.

At one point early in my ministry I counseled a couple who was planning their wedding. They had been living together for seven years, and now they were going to be married. The length of time they had been together was significant in itself because many marriages start to travel on some bumpy roads at the seven year mark. Their relationship was beyond bumpy. They didn’t agree on anything. They didn’t like each others habits. They didn’t agree on religion. They had completely different styles of money management. They didn’t agree on how their children should be raised. (Thankfully they didn’t have any at the time.) One of them dominated the other one and the one being dominated resented it terribly. So after three counseling sessions I asked them, “Why do you want to get married to each other?”

And she said, “Because I love him.
And he said, “Because I love her.”

If love had ever existed in that relationship, it was hard to find evidence of it now. They could not come up with any concrete answers to the question. I advised them together and separately to seriously consider breaking up, living apart and taking some time as individuals to find out what they really wanted from a mate.

I’d love to tell you that they didn’t get married. They did. And I performed the ceremony, justifying it by saying “Well they’d just go get someone else to do it so I guess I might as well.”

And they justified it by saying “When we get married everything will be different.”

All three of us were wrong.

Jesus, in the gospel of John says this:
"If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. 32 Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free." John 8:31-32 (TNIV)
Only when we tell the truth to ourselves can we be free to follow the wise path and avoid destruction.

In every area of my life I have learned that if I have to think of a justification for what I am about to do, then I need to think hard about whether I should be doing it at all.

That doesn’t mean that blind decisions made hastily are the way to stay on the path either. We can’t rush into a decision without thinking and assume that it’s going to take us where we want to go. We could get lucky, but the odds are against us.

But most decisions aren’t made blindly. And usually we have plenty of information and insight and can SEE that a particular path is likely to lead us in the wrong direction. The problem is we deceive ourselves; we refuse to be honest with ourselves so we can justify our ability to do things that make us happy in the moment, even though they are more than likely to make us miserable in the long term.

Our society often lives by the adage “Trust your heart.” But Jeremiah had it right. The heart, that part of us that is looking for immediate happiness, lies to us. The only way we can work around it is to KNOW that it lies. To be honest with ourselves about our ability to deceive ourselves. We can’t trust it, because it’s like a two-year-old. It’s that part of us that does not want to see that a stove is hot and that if you pull the dog’s tail it will bite. Your two-year-old self will find a way to convince your adult, wise, prudent self that eating that pastry today won’t kill you; that hanging around the cute girl in the office won’t lead to infidelity; that going into debt that you can’t afford won’t ruin you.

The truth is liberating, but it can be terrifying and maddening. Whenever we’re about to make a decision that could end in an undesired destination, let’s fill in the blank. Say “The real reason I ……..”

The real reason I don’t invite people to my home is….
The real reason I don’t call my kids is…..
The real reason I don’t call my parents is….
The real reason I drink so much is….
The real reason I don’t go to church is…..
The truth will set us free to follow the path that takes us in the correct direction.

But first it might make you scared. It might make you angry.

But better to be scared and angry now with the truth than to be angry later with the deception.

Fear Not

I've just come from a meeting with some of the members of our church's Preaching Team. This group consists of individuals, both lay and clergy, who feel God's urging to speak publicly about their faith. The lay among them usually preach at our small chapel service each week, but occasionally are assigned to fill in at our larger services as well. We meet monthly to discuss the challenges of preaching and how we can be faithful to God through his church. Most of the time we address our mandate to help connect others to God through Jesus the Christ.

Today we talked about a lot of things. Because we don't follow an agenda we move from one topic to the next freely. Today we briefly discussed author Anne Rice's decision to "leave" Christianity but not Christ. We came to the consensus that she'd be very comfortable in our church. Then we circled back to how our church can be more effective in reaching people for God. We talked about how our society is so polarized; we talked about how the media loves to pit us against one another, and uses fear of the other to sell their wares to us.

Then it hit us. Perhaps the only "slogan" that we as a church need to share is this: Fear not. Do not fear. Don't be afraid. This is a theme that runs continually through the scriptures. God continually exhorts his people not to be afraid:

The word of the LORD came to Abram in a vision:
"Do not be afraid, Abram.
I am your shield,
your very great reward. (Gen 15:1)

So don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. (Matthew 10:31)

There are a lot more than these; this just gives you a beginning.

So we decided that whenever we preach, at least for a time, we are going to share this simple message with our people. "Don't be afraid." In the words of one of my favorite Veggie Tales songs: "God is bigger than the boogie man.