Category: healing

Posted on

Blast From the Past: The Prodigal Son: The Father

The story in Luke 15 is popularly named for the prodigal son, but it could be titled, “The Story of the Prodigal Father.” Prodigal means recklessly extravagant, and I think that describes the actions of the father in the story. Jesus told this story in response to the criticism that he ate and drank with sinners. It is a picture of God’s extravagant love toward repentant sinners.

The father granted the younger son’s request, even though it was a slap in the face. As a father, I can begin to imagine the grief he felt as his son rejected him and everything he stood for. Rather than writing the son off as a lost cause, the story seems to indicate that the father was constantly looking for him to return. In spite of his grief he kept hoping. When the prodigal returned, the father saw him coming in the distance and ran to meet him. Imagine this dignified man running out to greet his son. In those days, one who did what the son had done would be met by the village elders if he returned and officially banished. The father was not only overjoyed to see his son, he was also protecting him.

Before the son could get his speech out, his father told the servants to prepare for a huge blowout party. He covered the son’s rag’s with a luxurious robe, put good sandals on his feet, and a ring on his finger. All of these were things a beloved son would wear, not a servant. There were no words of disapproval or recrimination, only grace and compassion. When the elder brother acted like a jerk and refused to join the party, the father went to him with grace, reminding him that he was also a beloved son. Again, there were no harsh words from the father.

We have the same kind of Father. When we wander away from him, forgetting who we are, he is waiting patiently for us to return. He knows we will return because his Spirit draws us. We are told in Scripture that God’s kindness leads us to repentance. He doesn’t force us back and hold us against our will. It’s grace and love that brings us to him, and it’s grace and love that keeps us home. In the same way, when we think we somehow have to perform to cause the Father to love us more, or think our good deeds mean we are better than our brothers, the Father calls us to remember that he loves us because he loves us. He doesn’t love us any less when we screw up, and he doesn’t love us any more when we do good things.

Sometimes we forget who our Father is, and who we are as his children. God calls us back to him, not as a servant. He calls us back, not as someone who has earned his love. No, the Father calls us to return home, remembering that we are his beloved children. He is ready to welcome us with open arms and celebrate our return.

 

Posted on

Maundy Thursday: The King Prepares His Followers

On this night, some two thousand years ago, Jesus sat down with his disciples for a meal. It was Passover, and it was time to commemorate the time when the nation was rescued from their bondage in Egypt. Per God’s command, they had been keeping this meal for a long long time. Things would be a bit different at this Passover meal. This was the final one that Jesus would have with his followers and he added a couple of things to fit what this particular Passover would mean to them.

During the meal, Jesus added a little something. He took some bread, broke it, and passed it around, telling the disciples that this represented his body which was going to be given for them. He then passed  them a cup of wine that represented his blood which would be shed for them. After supper, Jesus got up, took off his outer garment, and wrapped a towel around his waist. He then poured some water into a basin, and began to wash his disciples’ feet. This was no ordinary task. Washing the feet of guests was a job that was usually reserved for the lowest servant in the house, and for good reason. First Century Palestine didn’t have paved roads and sidewalks. It was all dirt, and mixed in with the dirt were any number of nasty things. So, a person’s feet would be quite filthy after walking around for a few hours.

It’s interesting that none of the disciples offered to wash the feet of Jesus or their friends. Remember, this is the group who argued over which one of them would have the highest positions in the Kingdom. To be fair, I doubt that I would have been the first one to jump up and offer either. It’s comforting to know that those closest to Jesus could be just as selfish as me.

When Jesus finished the job of washing their feet, he told his disciples that they were do do the same for their fellow disciples. Over the centuries, people have had different opinions as to whether Jesus really wanted his followers to literally wash each other’s feet. I don’t hold to that, but I do believe that Jesus calls us to be willing to take the lowest position and serve others. When the disciples were arguing over who should be highest, Jesus told them that they were not to be like the people of this world, who climb up by treading on others, and then use their position to control them. He said that is what the rulers of this world do, but that we are not to be like that. In his Kingdom, those who are the lowest will be brought up and those who are the highest will be brought low.

As followers of the King, we are commanded to love others as we love ourselves, and to seek to serve rather than to be served. Even further, we are commanded to love fellow Christians as Jesus loved us. In case you haven’t paid attention, Jesus laid down his life for us. That means we are to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters in Christ and love others (even the “sinners”) as we love ourselves.

As I look around at the Christian world, whether on social media or in real life, I don’t see a whole lot of self-sacrificial love or desire to serve others (I know, “pot, meet kettle”. I struggle with that too). If we are going to call ourselves followers of the Prince of Peace, should we be so quick to attack those who may disagree with us, whether verbally or physically? As subjects and representatives of the upside down Kingdom, the way we do things should look radically different from the kingdoms of this world, i.e. Babylon. Those who would have power and influence in Babylon must prove themselves to be stronger, more capable of defeating others. Babylon operates by using a sword. Those who would be first in the Kingdom of God must be servants who willingly lay down their rights, privileges, their lives in sacrificial love for others. The Kingdom of Jesus comes with a basin and a towel.

I fear there will be some who will stand before the King and say, “In your name, we beat our political foes. In your name we passed laws that made people act right. In your name we built a great country,” and he will say, “Depart from me. I never knew you.” May we be those who hear, “Well done. Because you loved the least of these, you loved me.”

Posted on

On Autumn

Autumn, or Fall, is one my two most favorite seasons, the other being Spring. I enjoy the cooler temperatures and the smell of smoke that often hangs in the air. In some way, even the decay of the leaves and the bare branches are beautiful and speak of the renewal that is to come.

The thing I like best about Fall is the beauty of the leaves as they change from green to different shades of red, yellow, and orange. The other day, Jan and I took a trip up into the high country of North Carolina and visited Banner Elk and Blowing Rock. The drive up was beautiful, as we saw the hues change from green with a bit of other colors to almost completely the colors of fall. As we drove from Banner Elk to Blowing Rock in the late afternoon, I was struck by the beauty of the fading sunlight as it filtered through the yellow and orange leaves.

The image that came to my mind was that of the elven realm of Lothlorien and the golden leaves of the Mallorn trees. As i continued to drive, I could imagine that place as a place where only beauty dwelt and where no evil could enter. I could have continued on that drive for much longer than we did. At some point we had to get off the road and return to the world as we know it, much as the ringbearers had to leave the realm of the Elves and continue on their journey.

Autumn reminds me that, as I go through this life that is often filled with decay, I can know that the golden hued forest we passed through is a picture of the time when all of creation will be renewed, and when there will be a land where no evil will enter, and only good will reign. It will be a land of unspeakable beauty and love that the best tales of humans can only allude to. It will be the realm of the True King, where there is no night, no pain or sickness, and no death. All tears will be wiped away, and everything sad will become untrue.

I look forward to seeing that renewal come to pass.

Posted on

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.

Posted on

Summertime, and the Living is…

I wrote this as part of our church’s monthly newsletter, and thought I’d share it here.

Officially, summer is not here yet, but the temperatures are getting summery, and the tropics are already heating up for a busy storm season. It seems that the weather is not the only thing heating up. All we have to do is read or watch the news, and it becomes obvious that the culture around us is growing hotter as well. The violence in the country is rising at what seems to be a faster pace than ever before. I fear that it may not be long before that spirit of violence spills over into people and groups we would never think would be affected. The rhetoric coming from those who desire to be called our leaders is becoming incendiary, and even some who claim to belong to Christ are joining in.

We however, are called to be different. We are called, as followers of the Prince of Peace, to be peacemakers. We are commanded to be humble, seeking only to glorify our King. We are called to love our neighbors as ourselves, even if those neighbors are our enemies. We are even commanded to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters. Talk about counter cultural! 

I believe that Christ is beginning to winnow his Church. The time may come quickly when those of us who claim Jesus as our King will have to put up or shut up. The dividing line will become sharper and clearer. If and when that time comes, we will need each other. We will have to show that love for others that we say we have, and trust our Father to take care of us.

Let’s not wait until we are forced to depend on one another. Let’s begin now.

Posted on

It’s Friday, And Yet, There is Hope

About fifteen months ago, I wrote this post. In the time since then, my friend was diagnosed with cancer and went to her rest with the Father last month, the mother of the other friend has recovered from the stroke, the stresses of the faith community continue, and Jan’s HD continues to progress. On top of that, in the fall, I was diagnosed with prostate cancer and have been receiving radiation for the past six weeks, finishing yesterday.

On what we call Good Friday, the followers of Jesus in first century Palestine didn’t feel hopeful. The man they thought was going to bring deliverance from the Roman oppressors and set up his kingdom was being forced to carry his cross outside of the city of Jerusalem to the hill on which he would be crucified. The crowd that had chanted Hosanna earlier in the week, had largely forgotten him. Some had even turned on him and called for his death at the hands of the Romans, stating that Caesar was their king rather than the man from Nazareth.

Most of his disciples were in hiding, and the ones that followed him to the cross were the women who had been with him. Whether hiding or openly at the cross, the disciples must have felt hopeless. All of their dreams of the past three years seem to have been shattered by the whips that flogged their teacher and the nails that were pounded into his hands and feet. He was going to die, and it seemed as if the promised kingdom was a myth. All that was left for them was to go back to their old lives, pick up as many of the pieces as they could, and try to carry on.

Roughly two thousand years later, we know the rest of the story. Jesus came out of that tomb, and commisioned his followers to spread his teachings and his kingdom throughout the world. Their hope was not only renewed, but it was expanded to a hope beyond this earthly existence. The King promised that he would return and set everything right. That hope is what has carried the followers of King Jesus through the centuries, and what carries us today.

We have hope. Hope that creation will be restored and will have a glory even greater than in the beginning. Hope that we will one day be reunited with loved ones who have gone before. Hope that our frail bodies will be resurrected and made completely whole, without all the problems we deal with now, including having to eat gluten free (inside joke). Hope that we will no longer have to deal with the struggles with temptation and sin. We have hope that everything sad will come untrue.

Christ is risen! This is where you say, “He is risen indeed!” This Eastertide, rejoice that, because Christ is risen we too shall be raised. We will be like him because we will see him as he is.

Hallelujah!

Posted on

A Little Update

This morning I had my tenth radiation treatment for my prostate cancer. I have nineteen more to go. As I was sitting in the waiting room, a young woman came in and sat down. She looked like she was in her late teens, early twenties. I thought, “She’s far too young to have to undergo radiation for cancer.” At the same time I thought of a dear friend who is in her last hours on this earth due to cancer, and how she is also too young.

These thoughts, combined with the fact that I was sitting in a waiting room waiting to receive radiation for cancer, made me quite aware again of the fact that none of us gets out of here alive, barring the return of Jesus to set all things right. The past year or so, I have been doing a bit of downsizing, housecleaning, whatever you want to call it with my personal posessions. I have also been doing the same in the ways I approach life and those around me.

The buzz word (or dirty word, depending on your point of view) among Christians, is “deconstructing.” It means different things for different people. I am doing some deconstructing, or maybe decluttering might be a better word. I am realizing that many of the things we allow ourselves to get all worked up about aren’t realy worth the mental or emotional energy. I care and less about national and world politics, although I will still speak about things that I think are important to my faith. I am learning to care less and less about what people think, although there is still a large part of me that wants to be liked.

My theology, like Karl Barth’s, is becoming more and more summed up in the words of the children’s song; “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so,” and my rule for living has become “Love God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind. And, love your neighbor as yourself.” I firmly believe that if those of us who claim to follow Jesus would practice those two commands, the church and the world would be better for it.

Life is short. Macbeth said that it is “a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” I heartily disagree. Life is a precious gift from our Creator, and we are to live in a way that gives back to him a bit of the love he has shown us, and that extends that love to those in our lives. Love the people around you, while there is still time.