This is from the Rabbit Room.
A New Bend in the Road
A little over twenty seven years ago, we moved from Cincinnati to Rock Hill, South Carolina. At that time we said that we were never moving again. Famous last words! We have just moved into a new house. The house and yard had become more than we could handle and we decided we needed a smaller place. Added to that were some repair issues that had become expensive due to a plumbing mishap. Did I mention that I hate plumbing?
After a few months of sort of looking, but sort of not, we got serious and put our house on the market. Knowing that we were looking for a smaller place meant that we had to let a lot of things go. We began to look at all the stuff that had accumulated over the years. I had inherited the “maybe I can use this someday” gene from my father, so there was quite a bit. The challenge was to pare the things from a 1500 square foot, three bedroom. two bath home with a dining room, garage, back patio, shed and a half acre yard down to where they would fit into an 850 square foot, two bedroom, one bath house with less than a quarter acre lot.
I made numerous trips to charitable organizations and to our county’s waste/recycling center. Facebook Messenger became our friend. It was hard to let go of many of the things, especially furniture. Fortunately, we made some money from selling much of the furniture and a great deal of it went to people who would get good use of it. One couple bought a dresser and were going to donate it to a local women’s shelter, and we sold a rocker and footstool to a couple that was expecting their first child. That was a blessing to us. Our son and daughter-in-law, and daughter and son-in-law have been an amazing help with the purging and the planning.
We moved into the house the week after Thanksgiving. I have again made numerous trips to recycling and charitable places. As it turned out, we used a lot of cardboard boxes and also had to do more downsizing. It’s been a busy week and a half, and there is still furniture to put together and positioned, art to hang, and stuff to put away. I’m going to hold off on the yard until the spring.
It was hard to leave a place where we made so many good memories. Fortunately we can carry those memories with us and we will make new ones. We are closer to our church community, and to many other places and activities we have been a part of. The move has been stressful at times, and there were even a few times when I wondered if it was worth it. At those times, I could sense the Father saying, “I got this.” Jan and I are looking forward to getting to know our neighbors and learning to love them well, and to what lies ahead of us on this part of the journey.
We’re not moving again. I guess I shouldn’t be saying that should I?
Blast From the Past: Taken, Blessed, Broken, Given Part 3
This is part three of a four part series.
As we are able to claim our blessedness, we can then, “face our own and others’ brokenness with open eyes.” Henri Nouwen ends his chapter on blessedness with these words. The next chapter is on the third word that Nouwen found useful in identifying the movements of the Spirit in our lives. That word is broken.
“Broken” is a term that most of us in the church don’t like to hear or think about. We do love hearing about the “broken body of Christ,” because it speaks to us of what Jesus did for us on the cross. We love to hear about the power of sin being broken, even though we sometimes live as if we were still under its sway. What we don’t like to think about is the idea that we have been, are, and will be broken. But, it is true.
We live in a broken world. All anyone needs to do is look around them or watch the evening news. The creation is broken. It is being restored, but it is still broken. Take a look at the folks around us. They are broken people, and much of the heartache and misery in the world is caused by broken people breaking other people. No one escapes being broken. Nouwen puts it this way,
“Instinctively we know that the joy of life comes from the ways in which we live together and that the pain of life comes from the many ways we fail to do that well.”
I think Nouwen is correct when he states that, just as we claim our chosenness and blessedness, we must claim our brokenness. We must own up the fact that we have been hurt in the past, may be hurt in the present, and will be hurt in the future. That’s part of the job description. After owning up to our brokenness, we then can respond to it. We do that in two ways, by befriending it and by bringing it under the blessing.
Our first response to our brokenness is to befriend it. That seems counterintuitive to us. Our first, and sometimes only response is usually to run away, to avoid that which is causing us pain and convince ourselves that if we ignore it it will go away. The problem with that approach is that it doesn’t bring healing. I believe that our tendency to run from pain is a contributing factor to some of the mental health problems in society, and to many, if not most of our relationship problems. We are afraid of pain, of heartbreak, of suffering. If we do find the courage to embrace our pain we then find that we have started down the road of healing. Nouwen writes,
“The deep truth is that our human suffering need not be an obstacle to the joy and peace we so desire, but can become, instead, the means to it.”
Everything in our lives, good or bad, joyful or painful, can be part of the path we take to being fully human. This is a hard concept to grasp. We can easily see how the good in our lives brings us to glory, but it’s another thing entirely to see our suffering in the same light.
The second response to suffering is to put it under the blessing. Like the first century disciples who asked Jesus if the man’s blindness was a result of his sin or his parents’, we usually look at suffering as an indication that we’re bad people. There are many voices out there that tell us that if we just do things the right way, or if we are really God’s child, then we won’t have to suffer. I wonder what the apostle Paul, or the Christians being martyred for their faith today would say to that. Suffering does not necessarily mean that we are bad people. It does not mean that the negative voices in our lives are right. We must listen the voice that calls us beloved children, the voice of our Father. Our brokenness does not cause God to love us any less, it does not cause him to see us in a negative light.
As we live in our blessedness and take our brokenness there and put it in the proper perspective, we find that the burden becomes lighter and the way becomes clearer. We can then see the suffering as a means of purifying us. Ask a grape vine if pruning is something it enjoys. If the vine could feel and talk, it would tell you that pruning is painful. I mean, how would you like to have a limb hacked off? The vine would also tell you that the suffering of pruning is worth it because it produces the abundant harvest of grapes that allows us to share wine with our friends. Sometimes there are things in our lives that need to be pruned away. While it is a painful process, it is also an indication that our Abba loves us, and is forming us into the people he wants us to be.
As the bread in the Communion, we are taken in order to be blessed. We are blessed so that we can be broken. As the bread cannot be distributed unless it is broken, so with us. We are broken so that we might be given.
Blast From the Past: The Prodigal Son – The Younger Son
This was first posted back in 2011. There are a couple of minor edits.
Today, I’m starting a four part series on the story of the Prodigal Son. The story of the prodigal is a story of God’s grace to his wayward children when they come home. It is also a story with a number of layers that speak to us in different ways at different times in our lives. Henri Nouwen wrote a book titled, The Return of the Prodigal Son, based on his reflections on a painting by Rembrandt. My ramblings come largely from reading this book.
The first person we encounter in the story is the younger son. This son comes to his father and asks for his part of the inheritance that would come to him after his father dies. This is more than just a request to get money due him earlier than he would normally receive it. The ones who heard this story would have been outraged at the attitude of the younger son. In effect, he was saying to his father, “I reject you and everything you stand for, your culture, your religion, everything. I wish you were dead!” In a culture where rebellious children could be stoned to death, this was a dangerous and devastating statement for the son to make and for the father to hear. The father however, decided to give his son what he asked for. He handed over the money and said goodbye. As a father, I can imagine the heartbreak he went through as one of his sons turned his back on everything and left.
The younger son went off to a “distant country,” where he squandered his inheritance on parties and whores. He was completely deaf to the voice that would have reminded him of his father’s love and of what he had been taught. In short, he forgot who he was. I would imagine that most of us can see ourselves in the younger son in some way. Some may have wandered into a life of dissipation and come out of it. Others may have experimented with some things but not gone all the way in. In my own life, I was drawn in to things that were not good for me, although I never wandered completely away. Of course, there are some out there who would consider me a prodigal today.
There is another way to be the younger son, a way that many, many more have fallen into. That is the way of forgetting whose child we are and trying to get our identity from other things or other people. That is the way I most identify with the prodigal. Whether it’s from a job, a skill, a style, or a group of people, we try to prove our worth by other things than what our Father says. Our culture says that what is important is how you dress, what job you have, what kind of car you drive, how much money you make, or what group you hang out with. Unfortunately, those things become like the husks the prodigal wished to eat while feeding the pigs. Trying to find our worth and identity in any thing of this world is a futile exercise, leading to emptiness.
Fortunately for the prodigal, he did come to his senses and remember who he was. I can see him slapping himself on the forehead, and saying, “What am I doing here? I’m not a pig farmer! I’m a son of a father who has a lot of money and food! Why am I starving here?” So, after coming to his senses he returned home. He still didn’t completely remember who we was though. Or better, he didn’t understand completely the kind of person his father was. His plan was to go home and convince his father to give him a job. He didn’t believe his father would accept him back as a son. We sometimes also forget who we are dealing with when we go to our Father. We believe the lies that we can’t be his child if we do certain things, or that we have to do something to get ourselves back into his good graces. We feel we have to “get right with God.” We forget that our Father loves us and always accepts us.
The son returns and finds himself in the midst of a homecoming better than he could have imagined. He can’t get his prepared speech out before his father welcomes him back and throws the biggest party the neighborhood has ever seen. So it is when we come to our senses and remember who we are. We are beloved children of the Creator of the universe. He is pleased with us, and there is absolutely nothing we can do to cause his love to decrease, and nothing we can do to increase his love. He holds us in his hands and nothing can pull us out. Period.
Remember who you are. If you’ve forgotten, your Father is looking for your return so he can lavish his grace and love on you.
Eastertide Thoughts
It has been one week since those of us in the western church celebrated Easter. The Orthodox tradition will celebrate Easter on May 2 this year. Eastertide is the period between Easter Sunday and Pentecost, so the celebration continues in many churches for a full 50 days. Personally, I think that’s a good idea.
This year, I’ve been doing much more thinking about the importance of Easter to those of us who follow the One who was raised from the dead. I think a 50 day celebration of the event that changed history is something that should be practiced much more than it is now.
This has been a momentous year for many of us, with a lot of things happening that caused us to think about what is really important and about the brevity of our lives here on this earth. A little over a year ago, I had a heart attack. Within a couple of weeks, everything was locked down because of a deadly virus. We didn’t get to celebrate Easter in person last year. We didn’t get to do a whole lot of anything in person last year.
We saw the number of cases and deaths grow as the year went on, and very few of us didn’t at least know someone who caught the virus. Add to this what seemed to be the death of reason and understanding in the civil discourse in this country, and the year looked more bleak as it dragged on. We made it to the end of the year, but the future looked very uncertain.
In some ways the future is looking better. In other ways, there is still turmoil and uncertainty. Personally, my health is much better now, but there are things that have happened to keep the realities of life in a broken world in the forefront. From friends and neighbors who have cancer to friends whose parents have fallen ill, from families that are broken to our small town reeling from a senseless murder and suicide, there is much to make one wonder if there really are any answers.
There are many questions that we may never have answered fully. There are some that may not be answered at all. That is why Eastertide this year has become meaningful to me. I believe that Easter is the answer. We may not have all the details filled in for us, but Easter means that death has been brought down, had all its teeth kicked out, and ground into the dust in defeat.
Because King Jesus rose from the dead and inaugurated his kingdom, I know that my friends with cancer will unltimately be healed and will live in the new creation. I know that there will be peace on earth and the swords will be beaten into plowshares, and there will be no war. I know that there will be no hatred or murder, no struggle over possessions, or arguments over ideas. There will be no cancer, heart trouble, Alzheimer’s or Huntington’s Disease. Every tear will be wiped away and everything sad will become untrue.
Let us rejoice and feast! Break out the champagne! There is nothing worth celebrating more than the fact that death has lost its sting, and the grave has no victory. It is not the end yet, but it will be all right in the end. Hallelujah! Christ is risen!
Blast From the Past: The Cave
This was first published eight years ago when I was going through some things.
Papa! Papa! Where am I?
How did I get here? It’s so dark. I can’t see a thing!
I remember walking along the path with my friends. Next thing I know I’m waking up here in the dark. I think I remember the path passing near the entrance of a cave. Is that where I am?
How do you feel?
Everything hurts. I feel like I got hit by a truck. Now I remember. We were walking along when I was hit by something. Who would have done something like this?
An Enemy has done this.
Papa, it hurts so bad! I don’t understand! I’m all alone here in the darkness and I feel like everyone has abandoned me!
You are not alone. Your most trusted long time companion is near, waiting for you. I am here.
How did this happen? Everything seemed good. There was some loose rock on the path at times, and there were some places where part of the path had washed away. but I thought we had gotten past them. I thought this part of the journey was going well. I thought we were together.
Papa?
I’m broken. I feel like I can’t move. I’m afraid to try because I can’t see and I don’t know if it’s safe. I don’t know what to do!
Do you remember the time you spent in the desert learning to trust me rather than what you expected me to do?
Yes, I do. That was hard.
You still have more to learn.
Does it have to be so painful? I’d rather lose a job again than feel so hurt and rejected!
Papa, what do I do?
Stay here for awhile. Don’t move. I know it’s dark and you’re scared, but I’m here with you. You are broken, but my love will heal you. You are safe here. Learn again to trust me. No matter what.
When the time comes, I will lead you out of this place, and you and the person who truly loves you will continue on in your journey with me.
Papa, help me! I have no strength.
I know. I am your strength. I love you, son.
Goodbye and Hello
Tonight we say goodbye, or rather, good riddance to the year 2020, and say hello to 2021.
Sometimes, there is a sense of loss in looking back on the year. I don’t believe this year is any different. Many, if not most of us can look back on things lost this year. Lost opportunities abound. Many didn’t get the chance to have their graduation, final season, vacation, family reunion, etc. The list goes on. Businesses closed, and millions of people lost their jobs. Even worse, many lost health and loved ones.
Our institutions took a hit as well. Many churches lost people as attending a virtual worship service morphed into not bothering at all for many. Our political process turned into a sideshow that may have long lasting repercussions. Our society seems as divided as ever, and many wonder if it will ever come back together.
Even the weather seemed to have it out for us. The hurricane season began before the official date and ended after it was supposed to be over. There was a record number of storms, adding to the loss and devastation in some parts of the country.
While there are many reasons to simply write this year off, there have been positive things happen. American politics haven’t yet fallen apart completely, even though some may have been trying to make that happen. Even with all the machinations, the system is still working. In the midst of the division, there has been more of a desire to ensure the rights of those whose rights have been under appreciated. We still have a long way to go, but it’s a start. Even with the horrendous loss of lives from this pandemic, it could have been worse. We have seen people join together on an unprecedented scale to try and alleviate the suffering of others. Many heroes have emerged from this tragedy. There has been much good come out of adversity.
We can look to the year ahead with trepidation or with hope. There will be dark days ahead, as the pandemic continues. Politicians will still look out for their own interests, and forget about the rest of us. There will still be selfish people, and the economy will still struggle. I choose to believe that better days are ahead, regardless of what shape those days might take. To do otherwise would be to give in to despair. As a follower of King Jesus, I believe that nothing that happened this past year suprised him, and that nothing in the future is going to shock him.
I have seen God work in some amazing ways in this past year, and I believe he will contine to work in the year to come. You might call me a starry-eyed optimist who isn’t grounded in reality, but my optimism isn’t an everything will be peachy keen, rose colored glasses optimism. My outlook is shaped by the firm belief that the King has come, has brought his Kingdom and the new creation into being, and will return again to finally set all things right. That is the reality in which I live. I hope you too can come to see that truth as well.
May God bless you in this year ahead.
Shadow and Hope
In The Return of the King, the hobbits Frodo and Sam are near the end of their journey into the land of Shadow in their attempt to destrtoy the One Ring. They have journeyed far, through hunger and thirst, battles with spiders and orcs, and the near overwhelming despair that lies heavy on Mordor. Now more than ever, the quest seems to be a fool’s errand. They don’t know if they will ever reach their destination, or if it will matter if they do.
One night, as Frodo sleeps, Sam looks up at the sky above him:
Far above the Ephel Duath in the West the night sky was still dim and pale. There, peeping among the cloud-wrack above a dark tor high up in the mountains, Sam saw a white star twinkle for a while. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of that forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing; there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach.
There is talk going around in some circles that if (fill in the name) gets elected, or re-elected, a Shadow will cover our land and our nation as we know it will cease to exist. When you think about it, this has been the fear of some for a number of election cycles. The language used to describe candiates on either side comes close to the language used to describe Sauron and his minions. These people, whoever “these people” may be, are the scourge of the earth and are worthy only of hatred and contempt. We are told to fear those who disagree with us, because their ideas will enslave us in some sort of socialist, fascist, anarchist, dictatorial, etc. distopia.
What there seems to be a short supply of, is hope. People talk about what country they are going to flee to if a certain party wins (although I don’t know if anyone has ever actually done that). Now, I can understand a lack of hope from those who have all their dreams tied into a certain way of seeing the world, who have pledged their allegiance to a system or person. What I don’t understand is when some of that despairing language comes from the mouths of those who claim to follow the One who brings hope. I realize that some of that is done to raise money to put in the coffers of certain organizations, or because they want to keep a privileged position. That doesn’t make it any less sad.
Think of that Friday afternoon a little over two thousand years ago, when the disciples of Jesus thought that they had lost all hope. They had hitched their wagon to the star of this man they believed was going to restore the kingdom to Israel and make it great again. Now he was dead, and it seemed as if their whole world had come crashing down around them. They, like many today, had a misplaced hope.
If you are a follower of Jesus, if you have pledged your allegiance to the King of Kings, then whatever happens in this election or in any other year should not lessen your hope one iota. Our hope is in the One who went into death and came out the other side victorious. Jesus is King and no matter who occupies the White House, the Capitol, or the Supreme Court, our mission as ambassadors of the Kingdom of God does not change. We are still called to make disciples. That may well get more difficult in the years to come, but it is still our calling. If everything hits the fan and this nation does crunble, as all empires have so far, we are still citizens of the Kingdom that will never be shaken and have a hope that always endures. Because Jesus is King, the Shadow is only a small and passing thing and there is a light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach.
Hope in the Lord, and your hopes will never be crushed.
Blast From the Past: More From My Journey
This is from 2008.
Most of my life I’ve heard that God wants us to “dream big”, “attempt great things for God, expect great things from God”, and desire to be “greatly used”. Well, I’ve dreamed big dreams and I’ve asked God to let me do great things for him. And, guess what? *crickets chirping*
That’s right. Nothing has come of those dreams. In fact, most of them have crashed and burned. The dreams have ranged from competing in the Olympics (or at least getting to the Trials), to coaching college basketball and building a program that would be among the best in the country and having a ministry that would deeply impact the campus. I’ve even dreamed of of helping plant a church that would touch my community and advance the community. I’ve followed the advice of Christian motivational speakers and asked God to give me his dream for me, and I really believed he had done this.
I have come to the point in my life where I am done with dreaming. I believe that God does give some big dreams and big things to do for the Kingdom. I don’t believe that I’m one of those people. Through my reading (Bible, blogs, and books), praying, and thinking, I’ve come to believe that God has called me to simply be a follower of Jesus. He is telling me to not worry about where the road is going to go, or what I am going to do along the journey. When I ask, he just says, “You’ll find out”. There were a lot of followers of Jesus in the 1st century that didn’t make it into the New Testament or any of the writings of the time, but they were faithful to what God called them to do. That’s what the Father is calling me to be. And, I’m okay with that.
I’ve often described my walk with God as a journey on the back roads. One of the things about the back roads is that they are away from the crowds, away from the spotlight. Back roads are not the places to do great things or become famous. They are places where a traveler can slow down and get to know their companions, where those you encounter are more likely to give and accept anything that is needed.
So, I’ll continue following my Teacher and Friend down the back roads (and sometimes along narrow trails). There’s a lot to see along the way and many interesting people to meet. And at the end, I look forward to the Father saying, “Welcome home”.
It is Finished: Or is It? John 19:31-42
Yesterday I had the opportunity to speak in our gathering.