Palm Sunday and Expectations

Tomorrow, we celebrate the day that Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey, surrounded by people hailing him as the Messiah. Evidently this procession was not the only one making it’s way into the city that day. The Roman governor, Pilate, was also entering Jerusalem with his forces. This was something that happened before every Jewish holiday. After all, the Romans had to remind the Jews who really was in charge.

So, you have an imperial Roman procession on one side of the city and a subversive, Messianic parade on the other side. The people shouting, “Hosanna!” as Jesus made his way along the road thought they understood what was going on. As they saw it, this man who had performed so many miracles was the promised king who would drive out the hated Gentile oppressors and restore the glory of Israel. Unfortunately, as the week unfolded, some of these same people, now disillusioned, would join in the calls for his crucifixion by those same oppressors.

Those folks were partially right. Jesus was the promised Messiah. He had come to set up a kingdom and free them from their oppression. What they didn’t realize was the nature of the kingdom. Even the disciples didn’t completely understand what this kingdom was all about. It was a kingdom that is not of this world, a kingdom that came in, not by way of overthrowing the present empire, but by the king dying at the hands of that empire. The Jews were expecting God to do things the way they expected. They didn’t understand that God rarely works that way.

I thought of how many times I pray for things and think that God is going to answer those prayers in a certain way, either because I jump through a certain number of hoops to “earn” God’s blessing, or because I can’t think of any other way God could act. I trust in God for the things I think he will (or should) do. Like the Jews, I sometimes follow Jesus for what I can get out of it. The funny thing is, God often seems to not do the things that I expect, yet things turn out in such a way that I know the Father is taking care of me. Things have not been all sweetness and light, and sometimes I question God about what he is doing. But I can look back on days gone by and see that God was there, and that he was working.

I am learning that God is not predictable. He is not someone who can be counted on to always do things a certain way. God relates to people in all kinds of ways, and we cannot tie him down to a particular plan of action. None of us can figure God out, yet he calls us into relationship with him. In that relationship we learn to trust God simply for who he is rather than for what we think he can do for us.

Be encouraged. Your Father loves you more than you know. He has given you his life and his glory. Trust the Father, even when the parade of Palm Sunday turns into the darkness of Friday.

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.

Update

Life continues to be interesting. While Jan and I were in California visting family, we both contracted Covid. Because we have had all our shots, it was relatively mild, although Jan had trouble with her asthma. We are both well, and life is returning to “normal.”

My radiation treatments for my prostate cancer have been postponed a bit because I have to have a colonoscopy first. It’s been ten years since my last one, so I’m due. The doctor wants me to have the colonoscopy first because the radiation might bother my colon some. The colonoscopy is scheduled for Valentine’s Day (how romantic!). I’m taking pills instead of drinking that nasty liquid, but the effects will be the same. After the procedure and the follow up, I will begin radiation, assuming the results are okay.

The doctor tells me that the radiation will be six to eight weeks, possibly closer to six. I am supposed to be able to pretty much continue with my daily activities, such as work. Hopefully that will be the case. Fortunately, I have a job that is fairly flexible. The outlook for the radiation to work is pretty good. As I wrote in a previous post, the survival rate for what I have is pretty much 100%. There will be some things that may change in my day-to-day, but it should be okay.

I’m learning more and more to trust the Father’s heart, and also realizing that so many of the things we worry about in our lives don’t really amount to much. The list of things that are important is beginning to shrink, and my focus is narrowing. It should be interesting to see how that shakes out in the future.

Hurry Up and Wait

I am beginning to suspect that the word for 2022 may be “patience.” As the year began, I was awaiting an appointment with a radiation specialist to talk about and schedule the radiation therapy for my prostate cancer. The appointment was scheduled for the Monday after we were to return from a trip out West to celebrate our youngest grandson’s first birthday.

Our flight was scheduled to leave on a Friday morning. Early that day, I received a notification that the first leg of the trip was cancelled. The airline had no flights for us to take Saturday, but they graciously scheduled us to go out Saturday on another airline. So, we’ll be able to get home just one day later. No problem. Right? Wrong! The second airline cancelled the second leg of the trip with them due to the winter storm that was to hit the east coast that weekend. They rescheduled us on yet another flight that left Sunday morning, had four legs, and put us back to our home airport Monday morning. Needless to say, that wasn’t going to work.

Saturday morning I went to the airport to see if the second airline would transfer me back to the original airline for a flight that went Sunday and put us back home Sunday night. After being informed that they could not do that, I cancelled the flight with them, walked down to the original airline’s counter and purchased a one way flight for Sunday. Even though I spent more money, ate least we were going to be home, and I was still going to be able to get to my appointment, which had been changed to virtual, due to the expected weather issues.

After a bit of a delay, we left Fresno Sunday morning and flew into Phoenix for a short layover, before landing in Charlotte Sunday night. Oh, did I mention that we planned to take an Uber home? That becomes important. When we left the plane and walked into the airport, we were greeted with an eerie silence. The airport was almost completely empty. Every flight out had been cancelled because of the storm. After we picked up our luggage, we went outside to procure our Uber ride.

Well, that didn’t go as expected. In fact, it didn’t go at all. Evidently no drivers wanted to drive the thirty or so miles on icy, hazardous roads. Who knew? No taxi drivers were willing either. I can’t really say that I blame them. After a while I got us a room at a hotel near the airport. We took a taxi there and had a night’s rest. In the morning, we dressed, packed, checked out, and walked into the hotel’s business center, where I had my virtual appointment with the doctor. We caught an Uber and finally arrived home a little after noon.

That’s not the end of the story concerning learning patience, but I’ll give you a rest and continue later.

New Year: New Twists and Turns in the Road

2020 was a year that many would like to forget, and 2021 didn’t’ seem to be much better. As the Covid pandemic hit in March 2020, I was in the hospital with a minor heart attack. I recovered completely and made it through the rest of that year and most of 2021. Most, but not all.

First, a bit of background. My father had prostate cancer. Because of that, my family doctor has been keeping an eye on my PSA (Prostate Specific Antigen). In many areas of my life I am just like my father. Well, it turns out that this is one of them. My PSA levels went up to the point that my urologist wanted to have things checked out further. The first step was an MRI, which showed some small spots in one area.

Next came a biopsy, after a couple months wait, which seemed to me to indicate that the doctor was not overly concerned. The biopsy was performed in early December, and the day before my sixty sixth birthday, I was informed that I had joined the club. I was following my father’s footsteps and had prostate cancer. Happy birthday to me. The good news is that it is stage 2; which means it is confined to one certain area.

At the end of 2021, I underwent a bone scan and today I had a CT scan, along with a chest X-ray to check out a spot found on a rib. The spot may be from an old injury. I remember getting kicked in the ribs a few times playing soccer goalkeeper in high school and college. Hopefully that is the case. The CT scan looked good. The next step is to schedule radiation treatment beginning the third week of this month. This should last about two months or so.

I am learning a few things from this. First, I am learning to not take anything for granted, because you never know when things are going to change. I am also learning that good treatment in American healthcare is extremely expensive. Even with excellent insurance, the costs are still very high. I am learning how to empathize with those who have cancer. Hopefully I am learning to trust my heavenly Father and rest in his love for me.

The five year survival rate for this prostate cancer is pretty much 100%. After that, it’s a matter of keeping an eye on things, much like before. The outlook is good and my urologist is pretty positive, so I think I’m going to be okay. So we shall see how the road ahead goes and where this journey is going to take me this year.

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.

One Year Ago

I have seen a lot of articles about remembering the “official” beginning of the pandemic one year ago. It was the start of a year that significantly changed our lives in many ways. Before the Covid virus hit, we could go wherever we wanted and be with friends and family without fear. That changed drastically.

For me personally, March 11, 2020 brought a significant, life changing event. I woke up that morning, and got ready for what I thought would be a normal day. I went to my usual Wednesday morning book discussion time with a couple of friends, then went to my job as a bus driver. At the lunch time, I did my usual workout. Afterward, I felt a little off, with a bit of a headache and just a general blah feeling. I figured I must have pushed myself too hard and didn’t give it another thought.

We had a new driver starting and he drove a group to WalMart to do some grocery shopping, while I rode along. When we arrived, I got off the bus to use the restroom. When I walked in the store I began to feel sick to my stomach and thought that I needed to get to the restroom quick before I lost it or passed out.

To make a long story short, I ended up in the hospital with a heart attack. I had had a couple of episodes earlier, but nothing that seemed overly concerning. I had even passed a stress test with flying colors. Little did I know that the artery hiding in the back of the heart had become 95% blocked and needed attention right away. The doctor put a stent in to keep the artery clear. After three or four visitors came to see me in my room, the hospital was put on lockdown.

I left the hospital after four days, and began the recovery process. I am now completely recovered. I have lost ten pounds, and my blood pressure and cholesterol are down to more normal levels. I feel good and have exceeded my fitness level of a year ago.

The most significant change has been my attitude toward life. I am realizing that I can’t take this life for granted and I am much more appreciative of the things in my life. More than that, I especially am thankful for the people in my life. I have been blessed with a wonderful wife, children and grandchildren, other family, and very good friends.

Facing my own mortatlity and seeing others, including people I know personally, face theirs, has taught me how precious and precarious this life is. It has taught me how completely dependant we all are on the grace of a good God. I have learned to depend on Jesus’ words in Matthew 6:26 about the Father’s care for the birds and how he cares for his children so much more. That is a great comfort and encouragement.

I have no idea what lies around the bend on the back road of life. We all have things we wish wouldn’t happen in our lives and the lives of those we hold dear. I do know that the same God who takes good care of the birds of the air and the beasts of the field, is my loving Father who is going to do what is good and best for me and for those I care about.