Haunting the World with Love

Your killed the author of life, but God raised him from the dead.  We are witness of this. Acts 3: 15

I haven’t blogged for a while but I felt compelled to post today.  We had a very powerful Good Friday service at my church that was a collaboration of the Estes Park Interfaith Alliance.  Each pastor participating contributed a passage, a message, and a hymn.  I watched and listened as one by one they rose to share their part of the Good Friday message.  I watched as the candle flickered.  I thought about Christ’s pain and agony.  And I wondered if it was appropriate for the candle to be burning on Good Friday.  Part of me thought, no, the Christ candle has to go out.  But then I remembered we are an Easter people.  I struggled between despair and hope as I worshiped  and watched the flame.

Finally the last speaker (my dear husband) stood up and headed toward the pulpit.  He stopped at the communion table though, and blew out the faint flickering of the candle.  It was over.  The light had gone out, he told us…and then his words full of emotion began to speak…haunted, he said he is haunted.  Haunted by violence…haunted by hatred…haunted by people…who claim to follow Christ’s message….yet cheer the dropping of the “mother of all bombs” this week.  Holy Week…

And I was haunted by the words of the soldiers to Jesus as he hung on the cross…save yourself and come down from the cross.  But Jesus came to save us, not himself.

And I am haunted by my own struggle to save myself (my wealth, my privilege, my status…) with little regard as to how it affects others.  It’s easy for me to point fingers but today is a day to look at my own life.  How am I killing the Author of Life?  When are my actions nailing the lid on other people’s hope?  How often do I claim to follow Christ with little regard to what that means…with no sacrifice…no costly love…

It’s not easy…this following Christ.   It’s not easy…

Your killed the author of life, but God raised him from the dead.  We are witness of this. Acts 3: 15

We are witness of this…we are the witnesses but it it’s not easy.  Perhaps these thoughts subconsciously stayed with me once the worship service had ended, the sanctuary emptied, and Michael and I remained to prepare the sanctuary for Easter.  He climbed the ladder and we switched the Lenten banners for the Easter ones.  I also needed to change the communion table from the one above to an Easter table.  In my minds eye, I had planned a joyful table full of beautiful bright flowers and a powerful sign of hope and resurrection.   I began to rearrange the table but I guess my heart was still heavy with Good Friday.  This is the table I made:

It didn’t turn out as I had imagined.  It feels more sparse, unassuming, and even solemn than I expected.  I sat and stared at it for a while trying to decide whether to leave it as it is or make it much more colorful, bold, and joyful.  It will be Easter after all and we worship a Risen Lord!

Then it occurred to me, it isn’t easy following Christ and the Kingdom of Heaven is like kudzu. (Jesus actually used a mustard seed analogy but kudzu, which has similar properties, seems to make sense to this Southern girl.)

The small seemingly insignificant things we do and say matter.  Our witness doesn’t have to be big and bold to be effective.  Our words and actions, no matter how small take hold and plant seeds that slowly grow and as our lives influence those around us…so those lives begin to plant seeds as well.  Slowly, the garden of love begins to spread.

I want to haunt the world with unassuming actions of love!

 

The Month I Chose To Be Homeless

This is the front of a t-shirt I own.  (Click on the picture to buy one for yourself.)  The back of the shirt has a quote from author Shane Claiborne, “How can we worship a homeless man on Sunday and ignore one on Monday?”

Today is World Homeless Day so I decided to share my story.  It all began many years ago, when my now grown children were preschoolers, and I had a chance encounter that changed my life.  I had errands to run as busy moms do and no one to keep my children so I loaded them up in car seats and began a morning of running here and there. The boys were pretty good as I drug them through the stores but tired and hungry their good behavior was about to burn out.  A Happy Meal was just what they needed!   

As we pulled into Mickey D’s I saw a couple laden with dirty backpacks and dusty clothes walking in the drive next to me.  I thought to myself, this is an excellent teaching opportunity for my boys.  We parked, unloaded, and walked up to the door.  Just outside the door, the couple sat at the curb going through their backpacks.  I handed them a ten dollar bill and said, “Lunch is on us today.”  They thanked me and we went on into the store and stood in line to order.  A moment later, I noticed that the man was in line next to us and that he ordered one $1 hamburger and a complimentary cup of water.

At that moment, I realized how out of touch I was.  I realized how naive I was.  That $10 I gave them wasn’t even enough to cover the lunch carelessly ordered for my family but it was going to provide ten, yes ten meals for this couple!  It was a real eye opening experience!

We got our meal, found a booth and began our lunch.  As we were eating, the gentleman walked past our table on the way to the restroom.  I then noticed that she was still seated on curb outside eating her lunch.  When he came out of the bathroom, he stopped at our table and said he just wanted to thank us again.  I automatically held out my hand to shake his but he was obviously taken aback.  He hesitated and then shook my hand.  Once again, my eyes were opened.  Oh, he was used to folks giving him money but not to a handshake or a touch!  That was unexpected and out of the ordinary for him.  That moment changed my life and for that couple I am forever grateful.  It turned out to be an excellent learning opportunity for me!

The years following that day I found myself volunteering and working to eradicate homelessness.  That work also permitted me to get to know dear people who

The man I am kissing is Winfield.  I met him in the French Quarter one evening.  He was suffering from cancer, hungry, and homeless.  He was also delightful!

are homeless.  I learned that many of the common ideas about homeless people and how they ended up in their circumstances are quite simply wrong.  I have met so many wonderful men, women, and families that found themselves homeless due to job loss or catastrophic health issues.

 

My life has been deeply touched by some of the good, honest people I have met who struggle to find a safe place to sleep and a roof over their heads.  My heart aches for them but I know I really have no idea of what they face each day.

That is why, when the opportunity arose in 2013 I choose to be homeless for a month.  Before you judge, let me assure you that I didn’t actually live on the streets for a month but I did go thirty days without my own residence in hopes of gaining just a little perspective.  My youngest had just graduated from high school and had decided to live with his dad for the summer before he started college and I was to marry my wonderful new husband at the end of summer. 

Thanks so much to Lisa Warren (www.lisacwarren.com) for our beautiful wedding photographs!

Somehow, it just seemed too lonely to stay in our cute little rental house that Christopher (my youngest son) and I had shared for the past year and a half so I sought to rent a different house/apartment for the summer.  Upon this decision I found my first housing hurdle.  I needed a three month lease and they are hard to find.  Most places wanted me to sign a one year lease.  That wouldn’t work.  Time was running out and I still didn’t have a temporary residence.  To make things even more complicated, my job as executive director of a non profit had just come to a natural end.  Grant money was quickly disappearing and my non profit was planning to merge with another similar organization.  Even though I could have stayed through August, it seemed best for the organization for me to leave in May.  Having no job (even though I had money for rent) didn’t help the housing hunt!  The obvious solution, friends suggested, was to move to Michael’s home in Florida three months before we married but I would not.  I was set on staying in Mobile and living on my own until after our wedding day.

 

Finally, it occurred to me that a furnished vacation rental was the only way I was going to find housing for the summer.  It wasn’t cheap but I found a cute little house in Fairhope, AL.  I planned to move out of the house Christopher and I were in and move my my furnishings to Michael’s the end of May.  Problem solved. 

Then I began to think about the money…and the fact I was going to be in Mexico for a week in June for a mission trip.  Did I really want to pay that much rent for just three weeks?  Hmm…  One evening in mid May I had a novel idea.  I would just rent the furnished home for July and August.  For June I would have no official home.  As I shared my idea with people offers for a bed came flowing in.  One friend asked if I would house sit for them for a week.  Others told me any night I didn’t have sleeping situated I could call on them, and of course, I could always visit Michael. 

The more I thought about it, the more I knew I could somehow gain a snippet of understanding of what it means to be homeless.  Mind you, I know that my situation was nothing like the situation of a homeless person.  I know that I had a plethora of safety nets and resources that are not typical.  I never worried, not even one night, where I would sleep and I had money in the bank to stay in even the nicest hotel in town.  Even so, I learned much.

I made a conscious decision to stay away from my lodging during each day.  I would only go to my “shelter” at night so I could experience at least some of the struggles that people without a home face.  It put things in a new light.  In the past, I had really only considered the big problems homeless people face like a safe, dry, warm place to sleep, a mailing address, where to find a meal, a place to shower and do laundry…  All of a sudden small things like going to the bathroom became huge!  One morning my stomach was a little upset and I was tempted to just stay “home” but I knew I couldn’t if I was going to stay true to my plan.  Public restrooms often gross me out but I had no bathroom of my own during the day.  Also, I got rained on one day and vanity and comfort compelled me to dry my hair and change clothes but where would I go?  To a bathroom stall…yuck!  Another day I needed a computer but mine was in Florida at it’s new home. Many days I had places to go and things to do (meetings, volunteer work, etc.) but on a few days my calendar was free.  Those were the hardest days.  Normally, on a day like that I would curl up on my couch and read or bake cookies for my kids but those options weren’t available.  Finding places to hang out all day long was extremely stressful.  One can only sit at Starbucks and drink so much coffee after all, and the high temperatures and humidity on the Alabama Gulf Coast made indoor distractions of utmost importance. 

I know things like this seem trivial compared to the larger picture but these little things build up on top of the big issues to make the burden even worse.  My experiences were just inconveniences; they were of my own choosing and just temporary.  This is not true for the many people who live on the streets.  Their safety nets are often nonexistent and resources are scarce.  We are so quick to condemn those we don’t understand.  Perhaps we would see our neighbors differently if we walked even a block in their shoes!

Three Days in One: Columbus Day, Indigenous People’s Day, World Homeless Day

Although Columbus Day did not become an official holiday until the 1930’s there had been celebrations since the colonial times.  Through the years this celebration has been accompanied by controversy.  I won’t get into all the details but let’s just say that it isn’t really disputed that Columbus 1) wasn’t a particularly nice person, 2) never stepped foot on North American soil, and 3) even if he had, he would have found others had “discovered” it already and were in fact living there.  It should be no surprise then, that Indigenous People’s Day has been created as a protest or counter-celebration to offer some balance to our sweet little, “In 1492…” rhyme.  In reality, the Native American Culture was invaded and these indigenous people’s home was never the same.  That brings me to another celebration that falls on this day, World Homeless Day.  It doesn’t always fall on Columbus/Indigenous People’s Day; it comes around every October 10, but this year October 10 just happens to be on the second Monday of October.  The calendar aligned to disturb me into thinking how these three days fit together.  It challenged me to think about how privileged I am to live in a nice, warm home in the beautiful Colorado mountains that once served as home and hunting grounds for the Ute and Arapaho tribes.  And I am reminded of a family trip when my boys were ten and thirteen and how obvious it was to them that the Native Americans were “given” the worst of the worst land available when “white man” took over their country.

In addition to the other celebrations, today is also my mom and dad’s 62nd wedding anniversary.  At ages 92 and 90, they are in the process of moving out of their home of 56 years and into an apartment closer to shopping and doctors.  Michael’s parents (my in-laws) are moving from their “forever home” as well.  I’ve been thinking a lot about “home” lately.  That house where I grew up and my parents made a home for us is a huge part of my life.  It wasn’t an opulent home by any means, but a good middle class house where I had my own room with my own bed to sleep in every night. I had heat in the winter and air conditioning in the summer and protection from the wind and rain.  I could even open the refrigerator any time I wanted.  (I never even realized this was a big thing until I was in my 40’s and youth director to brothers who couldn’t.  They didn’t have their own beds either because their family shared a small apartment with two other families.)

It’s not that my parents didn’t try to show me how fortunate I was.  Every Christmas I gave my old toys away to the orphanage so those “less fortunate” could have something new to play with (and so my new toys would fit in the toy box!) They even took me to live in a third world war-torn country on the west coast of Africa for a year.  Yes, I knew there was a disparity in life; but for much of my life I gave it lip service and served a meal or wrote a check now and again to make myself feel better but I also accepted it as the way things are.

by Michael Moore, Used with Permission, All Rights Reserved.

Yes, this is the way things are.  According to a United Nations Global survey done in 2005 there were, at that time, approximately 100 million people who were homeless, and in 2015 Habitat for Humanity estimated that 1.6 billion (1,600,000,000) people worldwide were living in inadequate housing.  This number is hard to comprehend.

According to the universetoday.com on a perfect night under perfect conditions the human eye can see up to 9,000 stars. That is 178,000 inadequately housed people for each one. I don’t think is how Abraham imagined it when God had him look at the stars and imagine his descendants.

This is heartbreaking.  It’s the way things are but it is NOT the way things should be!  God’s house has many rooms according to Jesus.  Are we not to demonstrate the ways of God in this world?  Shouldn’t we find a room for each and every one of these homeless brothers and sisters?  When asked what was of utmost importance, Jesus answered, “You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your being, and with all your mind.  This is the first and greatest commandment.  And the second is like it: You must love your neighbor as you love yourself.” (Matthew 22: 37-39 CEB)  How can we say we love and then just accept this as the way things are?

When I think of this day, I see Columbus Day representing the systems of this world that promote division and inequality and the desire to have more even when that means someone else gets less, in that light, Indigenous People’s Day represents the oppressed who suffer from the personal greed of others and systemic problems in the economic and social structure of nations.  World Homeless Day is the day of hope and action.  It represents a movement where people can no longer be at peace with the way things are and feel compelled to make this world a place where everyone thrives!

 

Originally posted on GODSPACE-MSA.COM  as part of the October series Living into the Shalom of God.

Who’s In and Who’s Out and How Does That Look As We Love God and Neighbor?

As I sat in church today and listened as my husband preached on the Luke lectionary passage in light of the Psalm 111 (also from the lectionary) I heard things afresh.  I suppose that may be one of the best compliments I can give a preacher, that what he/she said helped me to “hear” something in a new, and perhaps challenging way.  That is exactly what happened today.

Michael began his sermon with the Psalm 111, a psalm of thanksgiving which led me to consider the infinite things that I have to be thankful for.  This of course, made me think of those who are not as fortunate, those who were cold last night, or hungry, or mourning, or sleepless, or…  I think the one question I want to ask God when I get to heaven is why do some have so much when others have so little.  I think the answer is that we are called to even out the disparity in this world. 

In his sermon Michael spoke about the “fear of the Lord” from Psalm 111.  He talked about the difference between fear as explained many years ago by Jonathan Edwards in his well known Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God sermon and fear understood as reverence and awe.  I, like Michael, like this reverence and awe understanding.  I for the life of me cannot see God being compelled by anything other than love.  It is, after all, who God is. (see 1 John 4)  As I listened, I was reminded of a saying I heard once, the opposite of love is not hate but fear.  This is even substantiated in that same 1 John 4 reading. No fear exists where his love is. Rather, perfect love gets rid of fear, because fear involves punishment. The person who lives in fear doesn’t have perfect love. (1 John 4:18 GW)  The word used for fear in Psalm 111 is yirah which can be translated awesome and reverence.  The word in 1 John is phobos which means panic flight, fear, and terror.  Yes, the reverence definition of fear must be the appropriate one.  We aren’t supposed to be afraid of the Lord but fear the Lord with awe and reverence.  I worship a loving God whom I am certain gets angry with me and the rest of humankind but is even then very patient with an unfailing love.  Fear and love can’t go hand in hand.

Jesus, Michael said, gives a radical idea of fear of the Lord.  Instead of the “just wait until your Father gets home” kind of love, Jesus called God, Abba…Daddy.  Daddy is the one whose lap a child can crawl into…daddy is the one who makes us feel safe and secure and loved.  Yes, Jesus (who was God himself) revered God the Father but he also showed and demonstrated a different kind of relationship.  He teaches us that God is present and personal and available.

Jesus was present and personal and available to the ten lepers in Luke 17:11-19.  Lepers were outcast of society; they were forbidden by law to get within a certain distance of someone “clean.”   Leviticus tells us they were supposed to continually identify themselves as lepers by yelling “unclean”!   What is interesting to me is that there were nine Jews and 1 Samaritan in the group of Lepers.  The obvious place to go is with Jesus and point out that it was the Samaritan, the “other” who came back to thank Jesus.  I got stuck on another point, however.  I struck me that in the Leper colonies, I assume, Jews and Samaritans communed.  At least it is the case with these ten lepers.  Jews and Samaritans hated each other.  They each looked down on the other group thinking they were the proper keepers of the law.  It strikes me that holy wars are the cruelest wars of all.  Why is it that religion is such a great divider?

One of my favorite writers Shane Claiborne says that when a fight breaks out on a street corner in his neighborhood they juggle fire on the opposite corner and before you  know it the fight has broken up because they see that there is something more interesting than violence.  These lepers had a common denominator which was greater than religious differences.  They found unity.  As outsiders, the conventional divisors were no longer important. 

When I think of the things that separate me from others, I wonder what unifiers there might be that are even greater?  Certainly humanity itself should be a unifier.  We are after all, all mortal and all created by the same holy God whether we realize it or not.  Politics?  One nation should be more important than one party.  Religion?  My religion, Christianity says there is value in everyone and that Jesus died that all the world might know God’s love.  Economics?  I have no real idea of what it’s like to be hungry or homeless or even threatened by lack of a savings account which makes me very different from billions of people in this world.  That alone should compel me to give all that I can to feed and clothe and heal those around me.  What am I afraid of losing when I help someone or compromise a bit in order to build a bridge?  Fear, in the Jonathan Edwards light is harmful.  Instead of being afraid of people we don’t know or understand, perhaps we should fear them with wonder.  They are God’s creation too.  We are all human and broken in one way or another.   Love should be the ultimate thing that holds us all together. 

The lepers in this passage did not have the same system of hierarchy and acceptance as the rest of society in their day or as we seem to have today. They seemed to see how they were all in the same situation and accepted even the outcast of the outcast. How well do I accept those different from me.   How do I see myself in light of others?  Am I willing to look for the things that connect me instead of separate me?    

The Day I Buried Jesus-A Good Friday Reflection

As I sat in the Good Friday service today I tried to imagine myself there with Jesus as the scripture passages were read.  There wasn’t really much time to think as they were read and reflections were shared, but I tried.  Somewhere during the service I had the crazy idea of sharing my journal entry from the day I tried to stay with Jesus throughout all of the Passion story.

Last November Michael and I went to a retreat on Ignatian Spirituality.  During the four days, we learned about Ignatius and his way; we learned the Ignatian world view has three elements, (1) finding God in all things, (2) the Contemplative in action, and (3) the more universal the good, the more divine it is. We also learned about the four “weeks”  which are centered around grace; they are usually a directed process of spirituality set on desire…not my desire, mind you, but God’s desire for me.  Week One is the acceptance of our humanity and God’s unconditional love.  For some people, this “week” lasts a lifetime!  Week Two focuses an intimate knowledge of Jesus so that I might love him more intensely and follow him more closely.  During Week Three we companion Jesus in his passion.  (I will share this experience later in this blog.) Finally, Week Four is the movement from old life to new life.  Another way of saying this is that in Week One we meditate, Week Two we imagine, and Week Three we companion. 

One the day we discussed Week Three, the companioning with Jesus, Jim Dant, our instructor invited us to try companioning with Jesus all day, beginning with in Gethsemame and ending with Jesus’s burial.  He encouraged us to take our time with each passage, find a place that is a similar(ish) setting, and to take our time.  We would be given breaks from class throughout the day to companion with Jesus.  He reminded us that everyone abandoned Jesus that day; the disciples couldn’t stay awake in the garden (could we?) and Peter had denied him three times after his arrest.  Would we be there for him…he deserves not to be abandoned.  Oh, and I forgot to mention, we would be in silent retreat for most of the day.

What follows is my journal entry.  I have not edited it; it is exactly as written.  I must note that I tried to stay with Jesus all day and do the things expected of me like class.  Also, I believe I took the exercise a little more literally than the other people in my class and nobody else at the seminary knew that we were doing this exercise. This explains my frustration with the fact that life was going on as usual all around me.

[In a garden on the seminary property in a light rain]  In the Garden:  (me) Jesus, I’m so sorry.  How did I every miss how abandoned you felt? 

(Jesus) I know that’s how you are. 

(me)But I know it hurt you. 

(Jesus) Yes, I’m human–I have an ego and at times it gets in the way–at times I forget that this is how it must be–but then I remember how much I love you–how your actions hurt me but endear me at the same time.  It’s harder right now, I admit it; it is.  I don’t want to die–even though I know I’ll be with the Father–the suffering will end-but I’m afraid; I’m terrified.  I know it’s going to be the most horrible thing!

(me) Jesus, I’m sorry. 

(Jesus) You are and you aren’t, but that’s OK.  It’s just who you are– and I love you unconditionally even now.  You are making this about you again.  Well, really it is about you–I’m going through this for you.  God, what I would give to call on those angels.  I could–it would be OK.  It’s the contingency plan.  Even I have a choice but I choose you!  I choose to go through this for you.  But please, please, can’t you at least try to stay awake!  How hard is it?  Don’t you see how important it is to me?  Don’t you see how alone I feel?  I’m desperate.  I don’t want to do this.  I’m not going to do this…but then I love you too much not to.  Not yet–I’m not ready yet but I want it to be over.  I want all this done–behind me.  The dread is killing me.  Hold me!  Hold me!  Just go on sleeping you stupid person who I love so much.  I forgive you.  I do.  I love you.  Oh God!  Here they come…not yet, please…no…God!  Please no!  Judas, Judas, my friend…my brother, why are you forsaking me?  Why I’m here for you.  Oh yes, I’m doing this for you–and for everyone–I love everyone.  I can do this!  My heart stills–I can do this.  Oh God, help me to do this!

[back in the classroom] (me) So I didn’t want to leave you there in the garden, Jesus, but I did.  I wanted to stay with you–be present while you were arrested, go with you through the day but I went back to class.  Rule follower that I am–even though I was given permission to stay…to come back late…rule follower that I am.  And by the time I caught up with you just before lunch–you had already had such a day!  How much did Judas’ kiss sting?  Did he see the love in your eyes like Peter did?  This day has been so frustrating for me.  I left you on purpose–intentionally–regretfully in the garden.  (and then it was almost impossible to catch back up with you.)

[outside the lunchroom and at lunch] I saw you briefly before lunch–as the crowd yelled crucify him.  But nobody really seemed to notice.  It’s like when someone you love dies and your world stops but everyone else keeps moving forward in time.  As they walked past me into the halls and cafeteria–they were oblivious to what was going on–how you were suffering.  I even heard some of them talking about you, while the crowds cried crucify…and they couldn’t even hear it.  Once again I left you freely, of my own choice to go to lunch.  Really?  For a lunch break, I left you alone to face the crowds?  The whole time at lunch I felt guilty.  It reminded me of when I would go to the hospital to visit someone and we would go down to the cafeteria to eat.  Why wasn’t I there?  Why am I here?  So at lunch, I was anxious…anxious to get back to you.  I got up to head somewhere…anywhere…only to be with you.  Where are you?  I have to find you!  Why do people keep trying to pull me out of my search?  I am getting so very frustrated but then I remember that the less loving I am the farther I go from you.  Why can’t they understand–I want to be with you.  I suggested to Michael (by pointing to a map with a questioning look) that we go to a catholic church. They are always open and I will find a crucifix.

[driving around Atlanta].  Surely, you are hanging on the cross by now and I want to go to you.  We go…only to find the church locked!  Locked!  I am frantic that you will die before I get to return.  In my heart of hearts, I know that you are already dead and I missed it…I failed you.  I abandoned you like everyone else.  Please, oh please, I think…let’s hurry back to Columbia so I can see you before you die.  And we start driving around.  Where are we going?  I must hurry…why are we taking the long way?  As we drive along I notice how carefree and full of wonder the children are and how mean spirited the adults are.  People honking and cussing at each other…don’t they know you are dying today?  Do they even care?  Finally, we get back to the seminary and I can find a peaceful place to be present as you suffer.  Isn’t it interesting that for me, at least, today, the peaceful place is where you are suffering–even though there is no peace in it. 

[In the classroom] But it is already finished and I missed it!  I am glad in a way…but I’m deeply sorry.  Why can’t I back up the day in my mind?  It is my imagination, after all, and find you still alive about to pick up your cross.  I would walk with you–help you carry it, clean the bloody dust off your precious feet that still almost smell like the expensive perfume that anointed them.  Beauty and ugliness; love and hate; life and death all mixed together–darkness and light are one! 

But now, right now, I feel nothing.  No sorrow, no passion, no anger.  I am numb.

Still numb, I come back to find you.  I wasn’t there for your death but I can be there for your burial.  I can bury you.  what is the risk in asking Pilate for your body?  What is the risk of not asking!  I have already abandoned you in such a great way but I can still offer you my love.  Yes, I want to feel your lifeless, mangled body in my hands.  I want to hold you in my hand.  I want to wrap your body in linen–cover your nakedness, wash the blood from your wounds, kiss your bruised and torn flesh…love you with all that I am.

I’ll start with your feet, your perfect feet.  Rough from years of walking, dirty and calloused…and bloody and torn.  How could anyone hammer a nail through another person?  These are the feet that walked on water, the feet Mary anointed, the feet that hung on the cross. 

And your legs; slowly, meticulously I wrap and wrap and wrap.  Covering your precious body–careful not to put pressure on the many wounds.  Not that you would feel it, mind you, but they are sacred to me.  I touch them lightly; kiss them tenderly.  How humiliating it must have been to be stripped naked, mocked, and spat upon.  With these linens I wipe away the spit, the vile; I protect you (even though it’s too late) from the words and the whips and the embarrassment.  Look at those hands.  These ravaged hands are the same sweet hands that wrapped around his mommy’s finger as he cooed.  And now look at them! 

My, all that is left is your head.  How can I cover that sweet face?  I close your eyelids with my fingers.  Those eyes ones filled with love and compassion…the eyes that looked on the rich young ruler and loved him…now empty and lifeless.  Oh God, what have we done!  Was there no other way?  Goodbye my love.

Thankfully, I know the whole story but today I must remain with you.  I must not rush to the resurrection.  Three days is a long time!

 

Lenten Photo Journey, March 13-19

March 13- TransformTransform-Change is difficult, yet is a natural part of life.  Things change, we change.  Often times I hear people lament the ‘good old days,’ but to be honest even the good old days have changed.  Our memories (the good ones and the bad ones) tend to be one dimensional.  The past was neither all good nor all bad we even had to face change then. Change, also, is neither inherently  good nor bad; it just is. The question we need to ask ourselves is do we welcome the inevitable, embrace it, make the most of it, and become better because of it.

March 14-PreparePrepare- This was our youngest son’s hight school graduation.  These young people were preparing for the next step…the future.  Their teachers, principal, parents, and family had worked passionately to make certain they were ready.  Everything had been done, taught, shown… Their school had spent the past fourteen years trying to nurture them into well rounded, serious, fun-loving, committed, and compassionate young men and women.  These kids were excited…apprehensive…and prepared.  To prepare is to become ready for what is ahead.

March 15 FearFear-An open church door might be an unusual photo depicting fear but I think it is appropriate.  How many folks have told me that they are afraid to go back into a church based on the ways they were treated by churches and church folk.  Church, in my opinion, should be the last place people are afraid of.  But the Church has done so much to alienate people from God.  I think it is because the ones coming out of those open doors and into the world are fearful of what we would have to give up to follow Christ.  We are afraid if they really loved God and loved their neighbor the way Jesus calls us to do, it would cost more than we are willing to give.

March 16- Hope Hope- Nothing says hope to me like the sunrise every morning.  In the words of Lamentations 3: 22-23,  “The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” (ESV)

March 17- Solidarity

Solidarity-This was taken the evening after high school graduation several years ago.  These young men had grown up together; they had shared each others’ joys and sorrows; they had encouraged each other, argued with each other, laughed with each other, and formed a solid friendship.  They were very different in many ways but they stood as one.

March 18-Sacrifice

Sacrifice- There is no better picture of sacrifice than the cross, which represents Christ’s ultimate sacrifice out of love for us.  In a double context, this cross is an unmarked grave in a battlefield.  In wartime many people decide that they believe in something enough to die for the cause.  Which do I value more, my life or my faith?  Am I willing to follow my Lord into dangerous places?

March 19- Choice

Choice-This is my mom shortly before her 90th birthday with her trainer George.  One day years ago she made a choice that she wanted a better quality of life.  She decided that she would not let her body get the best of her.  Working out 2-3 times a week for years did more than just change her body, strength, and flexibility, it changed her outlook as well.  And her determination and commitment became and inspiration to many others.  George told me how much training my mom had influenced his life.  I don’t we realize how much our choices impact others.  It all started with a choice.

Lenten Photo Journey Mar. 6-12

Mar. 6 Beloved

Beloved-There may not be a more intimate scene than a mama nursing her young.  These little fox pups would nurse a bit and play a bit under and around their mom and then go back to nursing.  On and on they played an nursed.  She stood there quietly and patiently as they played, all the while, aware of her surroundings, checking to make sure they were safe.  I’m not sure if animals have the capacity to understand love but they can certainly teach us what it looks like!

Mar. 7 Confession

Confession-I’m not so sure that confession is as much about tabulating all our sins and recording them so God can see (as if God didn’t know) but to show us just how far we have strayed from our true inner beauty.

Mar. 8 Mercy Mercy-God’s living water flowing over us and through us.

Mar. 9 Forgiveness

Forgiveness – when the coldness of my heart melts away

Mar. 10 Presence

Presence – The Spirit is with us always but it is only when we stop and invite God to join us that we can become fully aware.

Mar. 11 Sorrow

Sorrow – I am certain that hatred makes Christ weep!

March 12 Repent

Repent – Repent is to turn around, to go a new direction-God’s direction.  The interesting thing is that when we turn around we head back the way from which we came…but it leads us on a new adventure–“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you; plans for hope and a future.” Jer. 29:11

Lenten Photo Journey- Feb. 28-Mar. 5

Feb. 28  HomeHome – This isn’t our home, it belongs to dear friends but it was our home for the two weeks after we sold our house in Florida before we moved to Colorado.  This home was inviting and welcoming.  It was peaceful, comfortable, and refreshing.  One can be at home anywhere, inside the doors of their house, in a strange environment, in the company of friends, in the stillness of solitude, and in the arms of another.

Feb. 29 BrokennessBrokenness – This church was devastated by a Christmas Day tornado in 2012.  It was heartbreaking to walk around my neighborhood surveying all the damage.  Luckily, not a single life was lost.  This picture of the broken church makes me consider the ways that the Church is broken.  Not this lovely church, which has since been renovated but the Church as a whole.  I hear stories, many stories from people who have been so hurt by the church, so discarded that they no longer want anything to do with a church.  Some even blame God for the actions of the Church.  I hear so called Christian leaders spewing hatred and exclusion.  I hear them teach we should hate our “enemies” and keep them away.  I hear that the outcast deserve to be cast even further away from “the worthy.”  I hear messages of self-centeredness and domination.  These are clearly all counter to the words of Christ.

Mar. 1  HealingHealing – Sometimes endings are healing.  Sometimes beginnings are healing.  Sometimes, like this particular day, just hanging out with a friend is healing.  This day was an ending, a beginning, and a day with a friend.

Mar. 2 Emptiness

Emptiness – Michael and I hung this ribbon on a Christmas tree in a delightful, little Episcopal Church in DeFuniak Springs, FL.  We were at a Blue Christmas worship service.  Christmas can very very lonely and hard for many.  This service honors that in the midst of the season when we are supposed to be joyful, sadness is perfectly appropriate.  This ribbon is for Paul, Jr. the son of some of our dear friends.  After many years of fighting addiction, it finally got the best of him and he overdosed right  before Christmas.  He memorial service was on Christmas Eve.  Even now, several years later, the emptiness remains with them, some days are easier to cope than others, but the emptiness is always present.

Mar. 3 Seeds

Seeds – I saw these three precious friends walking down the street in Dublin.  They were enchanting and the picture remains a favorite of mine.  It occurred to me that moments in our lives, friendships, nurturing adults, good times, and also bad times, damaging relationships and hardships of our youth plant seeds.  Certainly we have some control over the direction of our lives but the seeds planted make things easier or more difficult and stronger or more vulnerable.  If only all children could have good, safe, happy childhoods…if only.

Mar. 4 Restored

Restored – This is the river than runs behind our condo complex.  A few weeks ago it was frozen and still.  The sun has warmed the river and the ice has melted.  When the coldness of my heart is warmed by the Living Waters, I am restored.

Mar. 5 FocusFocus – This is a labyrinth or a prayer walk.  Walking the same path in and out, focusing on my journey, listening to the Spirit speak, letting go of my burdens, and going back out into the world with confidence and resolve…this is the labyrinth prayer.  Shouldn’t this be our daily walk and wouldn’t we be more focused on God if we could may our life a labyrinth.

Metaphors and the Bible-The Joy Of The Lord Is My Strength, part 2

As I wrote in the previous blog, this metaphor comes from the eighth chapter of Nehemiah and, as I see it, is about repentance.  Grace is stronger than sin…accepting grace overpowers guilt.  Joy in the Lord is strength.

I tried to write in the context of the passage but for me, this metaphor has even deeper meaning and broader context.  I believe that scripture is somehow living and speaks to us in many ways at varying levels across time.  Therefore, I am going to blog about how this metaphor speaks personally to me and how I have experienced this truth in the circumstances of my life.

Several years ago I lost my joy.  I did.  I couldn’t really explain it, and I still can’t to this day; but I without a doubt, I had lost my joy.  Times were very hard.  My entire life was caving in around me and I was desperate and desolate.  As and eternal optimist, things were now looking bleak.  I was empty.  No longer was my cup full and overflowing– potential no longer filled the empty spaces.  I helplessly watched myself becoming void of all emotion and I prayed my kids couldn’t feel the emptiness as I hugged and kissed them.  I guess this sounds like depression but I am not sure it was classic depression.  I had simply lost my joy.

God works in mysterious and wonderful ways!  It was probably around November or December when I realized I had lost my joy.  One day in January I walked into the church office and the volunteer told me that someone had left a gift in my box.  My sweet friend Dara who was home visiting for Christmas had left an ornament for me.  Above is a picture of the ornament.  She had absolutely no idea of the struggles I was going through but God did.  The ornament had the word “joy” and under it a definition.  Joy: A contagious exuberance that originates in the soul, penetrates the heart, and radiates from the countenance; recognizable by all who encounter its glow… achievable by all whose faith speaks louder than facts and whose lives are grounded in grace and gratitude.  Those words spoke to my empty soul and “grounded in grace and gratitude” became my daily (hourly…constant) mantra.  Somehow repeating those words over and over throughout the day began to revive my soul.  Before I knew it, I had found my joy!  Honestly, it was still a daily chore to keep it but at least it was there.

Then, at a retreat I shared with others that I had lost and found my joy but it was a daily struggle to keep it and another friend Toby gave me two gifts…wooden letters spelling “joy”  (see the picture below) and a “joy” necklace .  I put the wooden letters where I could see them everyday and the necklace hung securely around my neck.  Throughout the day, I would grasp the necklace and repeat my mantra, “grounded in grace and gratitude.”  (Did I mention that God has blessed me with incredible friends!)

One day in Sunday School, a young mother confessed that she had lost her joy.  Her words pierced my heart.  I had never heard anyone else confess this but I knew exactly how she felt.  I left church with her pain on my heart and my necklace hung heavy around my neck.  I realized that I no longer needed the reminder, that my joy was once again deeply ingrained.  So that afternoon, I stopped by her house and shared a tiny bit of my story and how I happened upon the necklace then with tears in my eyes I took it off and placed around her neck.  I knew that I had to share my joy with her.

As I left her house and returned to my home that was still unstable and stressful, I realized that I could face anything because the joy which comes from the love of and from the Lord could get me through any situation.  I knew that the reason losing my joy had made such a profound void in my life was because that joy is what gives me strength each and every day to face whatever is before me.  And I prayed that my young friend would find the same strength and joy.

Metaphors and The Bible-The Joy of the Lord is My Strength

This passage is interesting to me.  It comes from Nehemiah 8.  I started to write about this passage based on how the joy of the Lord has indeed been my strength but then I read the context of the verse and I cannot ignore the context.  I have seen the scripture distorted too many times by taking it out of context to speak to this passage that way.  It would be easy for me to explain how my faith has sustained me through hard times, how joy is much deeper than happiness and that deep understanding does give strength but I have to unpack this metaphor in the context of the passage.

The Israelite elite had been released from captivity and allowed to return home.  Nehemiah asked permission to go help his people who are still in ruins.  They rebuildt the wall and gates of Jerusalem and Ezra and the other leaders read and explain the Holy Scriptures to the people (men and women and children, I am happy to say)  who began to weep as they heard the law read.  Scripture doesn’t say why they are weeping but they are told to, “Go, eat rich foods, drink sweet drinks, and send portions to those who cannot provide for themselves. Today is a holy day for the Lord. Don’t be sad because the joy you have in the Lord is your strength.”  

When guessing why they weeped it might have been because they were convicted of how their lives had strayed from the teachings of Moses.  Or it may be because it had been so long since they had heard the law read to them that they wept for joy.  I have indeed, wept for joy more than a few times when I heard the Good News read.  Since the passage continues with, “Don’t be sad,” I imagine that the former reason must be the one.  It could be that the leaders misunderstood the tears or were not comfortable by them, however.

If they were crying out of repentance, my blog must be rethought.  I was initially going to speak of a time when I lost my joy and the only  way I learned to cope in my harried life was to find that joy and cling to it with all my strength. I may still share some of this but in light of the context I need to think of a time that my repentance brought me to tears and the Holy Spirit reminded me that grace is stronger than regret and that I can overcome all failures because I belong to a loving, forgiving, and compassionate God.  Oh, I can think of so many times that I did not behave in the way I should have; times that if I could do-over I would in a heart beat.  These actions, words, and even thoughts have haunted me for years.  Oh, how I regret telling Jim that I had never known anyone in prison after he told me his sister was in prison.  I was young then.  How I regret not speaking up more for Tim, who was really sweet, in high school; and how I regret losing my temper with my precious children time and time again.  (These are the ones I am willing to share with you, there are countless ones I won’t even admit to myself.)  Yet every time I begin to point the disapproving finger at myself, I remember that God has already forgiven me.  I remember that God’s love for me is not dependent on my actions.  I remember that grace is greater than all of my sin…and the joy I receive from that grace overpowers my guilt and self loathing.  The joy of the Lord is my strength.