A few weeks ago I was blessed to experience all the major events of life in six days.
No, it wasn't the creation. That's already happened, you know. What I experienced was a birth, a funeral, and a wedding, all occurring in a six day span.
There's something about seeing a newborn and its parents that reminds me how miraculous we are. To think that we are all born helpless, totally dependent on others. Every newborn I have been around reminds me of the mystery and the beauty of our creative God. Each time I find myself in the hospital room with new parents, I am also returned to the joyous occasion of my own children's births. What joy there is in the birth of a child!
Two days later, I had to officiate a funeral. The woman who died was someone I had never met. Fortunately a member of the family was willing to speak about her life at the funeral, a trend of late in funerals that I think is very positive. As difficult as it was, I spoke at my grandfather's funeral several years ago. I came away from the experience feeling fortunate that I was able to honor his life with my spoken words.
What struck me about this particular funeral is how the same words are said at each funeral. "Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust." "Before this person was ours, he or she was God's." "Almighty God, into your hands we place ________, a sinner of your redeeming, a lamb of your own flock." Death, like birth, is very egalitarian. We all have or will experience the deaths of those we love and someday we too (barring Jesus' return) will face our own deaths.
Finally for the first time in many years, I was actually in a wedding party. Not as the officiant mind you, but instead as one of the groomsmen. (One item to file in the memory banks--shoes that come with rented tuxes are extremely painful to my old feet. Next time I'll bring my own shoes, thank you.) It was a heartfelt joy to stand so close to the couple, though it felt somewhat voyeuristic from my post on the second step, as they recited their vows and exchanged their rings. Having personally experienced divorce and seen its tragic consequences in my life and ministry, my prayer for the bride and groom was that somehow they might find strength to trudge through the hard times. Marriage is not easy and I have come to realize there is something very special, very God-like, when we human beings keep our commitments. Especially the commitment we make to each other in the marriage covenant.
Before this six days in my life, I didn't realize how much weddings, funerals, and births have in common. Hope, blessed hope, is what these events share. A wedding is filled with the hope and promise of a life lived together in covenant relationship. A funeral is primarily a reminder of the hope of resurrection that we have in Jesus Christ. And a birth, as it is reflected off the faces of mothers and fathers, grandparents and friends, is all about the hope that is inherent in the gift of new life.
Hope. A word that we need to hear more often. A word that was witnessed in a birth, a death, and a wedding. Who says not much happens in six days?
Thanks be to God!
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Friday, August 31, 2007
Is the Second Coming at Hand?
The increasing number of natural disasters of late is disturbing. A severe drought in our area has ruined crops and several people have lost their lives because of the intense heat wave that has lasted for weeks. Add to that the hurricanes striking the Caribbean and Mexico, wildfires burning in Idaho and Greece, and severe earthquakes in both Peru and Japan. Disastrous flooding in the Midwest became personal for me. I learned that Dora Horse, who was with a Native American group that visited our church at Rehoboth just last year, was swept away in the floodwaters, drowning along with her daughter and granddaughter. And if natural disasters are not enough, then think a minute about the recent headlines about people losing homes and jobs in the lending crisis, pet food and children’s toys found tainted with poisonous chemicals, a massive bridge collapse into the Mississippi river, miners trapped in a cave-in—need I go on?
I met someone recently who remarked, “There’s so much bad stuff going on in the world right now. I’m pretty sure that Jesus will be coming back very soon.” I pursed my lips and said, “Hmmm” mostly because I don’t like to engage in theological debate with people I’ve just met! My acquaintance would likely have been disturbed to learn that I never worry much about Jesus’ return, nor do I sit down regularly with my Bible attempting to decipher ancient prophecies about when it might occur. It’s not that I don’t believe Jesus will return, I do--and have affirmed often in church that "Christ has died, Christ is risen, and Christ will come again." What I don't believe is that Jesus wants us to worry; instead Jesus instructed us to be prepared, to be ready, to be watchful. Just like many people prepare for disasters by having a battery powered radio or storing bottled water, we can best prepare for the return of Christ by sharing his love with others not just with words but also through our actions (I John 3:18).
In the gospel of Matthew, the last statement of Jesus to his disciples is this:
“And be sure of this, I am with you always, even to the end of the age” (28:20 NLT).
We should pray for, work on, and give towards easing the suffering of those caught up in the troubles of the world. Our strength does not come from looking at the state of our world with apathy hoping that Christ will return soon to make it all better. Our strength comes from knowing that Christ is with us always, ‘even to the end of the age’, no matter how bad the world seems to be getting.
I met someone recently who remarked, “There’s so much bad stuff going on in the world right now. I’m pretty sure that Jesus will be coming back very soon.” I pursed my lips and said, “Hmmm” mostly because I don’t like to engage in theological debate with people I’ve just met! My acquaintance would likely have been disturbed to learn that I never worry much about Jesus’ return, nor do I sit down regularly with my Bible attempting to decipher ancient prophecies about when it might occur. It’s not that I don’t believe Jesus will return, I do--and have affirmed often in church that "Christ has died, Christ is risen, and Christ will come again." What I don't believe is that Jesus wants us to worry; instead Jesus instructed us to be prepared, to be ready, to be watchful. Just like many people prepare for disasters by having a battery powered radio or storing bottled water, we can best prepare for the return of Christ by sharing his love with others not just with words but also through our actions (I John 3:18).
In the gospel of Matthew, the last statement of Jesus to his disciples is this:
“And be sure of this, I am with you always, even to the end of the age” (28:20 NLT).
We should pray for, work on, and give towards easing the suffering of those caught up in the troubles of the world. Our strength does not come from looking at the state of our world with apathy hoping that Christ will return soon to make it all better. Our strength comes from knowing that Christ is with us always, ‘even to the end of the age’, no matter how bad the world seems to be getting.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
The Wondrous Cross
The red mug, the painting of which was described in a recent posting, finally arrived. I was surprised when I looked it over to see that the cross, which was on the side I frantically tried to cover over, was still visible! The photo above, which I had to change to black and white to increase the contrast, shows the outline of the cross.
I suppose it reminds us all that no matter how you try to hide it, the cross is going to show through. Victory in Jesus indeed!
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Myth Busters: Living Together Before Marriage
Recently I attended a wedding. Typically I find myself on center stage at weddings as the officiant, leading a couple through the marriage vows. However on this particular occasion I had the rare experience of sitting on the back pew observing the ceremony. What really stuck with me was the magnificent simplicity of the marriage vows. Here's what this particular couple said to each other:
In the name of God, I, (name), take you, (name), to be my wife/husband,
to have and to hold from this day forward,
for better or worse, for richer or poorer,
in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish,
until we are parted by death.
This is my solemn vow.
These vows are nearly identical to the ones Kim and I recited to each other nearly 15 years ago and it was somewhat unsettling to hear this couple recite them. Isn't it intriguing how the vows reflect the truth that marriage will likely include times of hardship and sacrifice? Marriage is still popular despite the increasing number of couples that choose to live together. Most of these couples will at some point recite some similar vows and make their relationship a permanent one.
Wondering about the merits of marriage vs. living together made me curious as to what research might show about the effects of living together prior to marriage. Predictably, a Google search gave me numerous hits but one site in particular stuck out. Dr. Willard Harley, a psychologist who has written much about relationships and marriage, quotes many different studies on his web site found here.
The many studies that have been done show that the risk of divorce increases by 80%, more or less, among those who live together prior to marriage. I'm sure this confounds those who would like us to believe that there are no ill effects from living together. Fortunately, one study I read said that couples living together who attend premarital counseling prior to marriage reduce the risk of divorce, down to a nearly even level with those who do not live together before marriage.
One of the myths of our culture is that living together prior to marriage is OK. The research proves otherwise. Perhaps it's time to talk about this more in the church.
In the name of God, I, (name), take you, (name), to be my wife/husband,
to have and to hold from this day forward,
for better or worse, for richer or poorer,
in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish,
until we are parted by death.
This is my solemn vow.
These vows are nearly identical to the ones Kim and I recited to each other nearly 15 years ago and it was somewhat unsettling to hear this couple recite them. Isn't it intriguing how the vows reflect the truth that marriage will likely include times of hardship and sacrifice? Marriage is still popular despite the increasing number of couples that choose to live together. Most of these couples will at some point recite some similar vows and make their relationship a permanent one.
Wondering about the merits of marriage vs. living together made me curious as to what research might show about the effects of living together prior to marriage. Predictably, a Google search gave me numerous hits but one site in particular stuck out. Dr. Willard Harley, a psychologist who has written much about relationships and marriage, quotes many different studies on his web site found here.
The many studies that have been done show that the risk of divorce increases by 80%, more or less, among those who live together prior to marriage. I'm sure this confounds those who would like us to believe that there are no ill effects from living together. Fortunately, one study I read said that couples living together who attend premarital counseling prior to marriage reduce the risk of divorce, down to a nearly even level with those who do not live together before marriage.
One of the myths of our culture is that living together prior to marriage is OK. The research proves otherwise. Perhaps it's time to talk about this more in the church.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Red Mugs, Purple Feet, and the Potter's Gentle Hand
Yet, O LORD, you are our Father.
We are the clay, you are the potter;
we are all the work of your hand.
Isaiah 64:8 NIV
Last Friday afternoon was spent with my daughter Hannah at a place called Brown Dog Pottery. Hannah wanted to go because her good friend from church works there and will soon leave for college. I wanted to go because I needed a break from a hectic work week and wanted to spend time with my soon to be in high school daughter.
The store has a wide selection of paintable ceramic pottery, ranging from small tiles and figurines to plates and mugs to a "who would buy that?" two foot tall rooster. Hannah selected a jewelry box to paint, while I chose a good sized coffee mug. We sat across from each other at a long table after picking out colors and brushes.
Not having painted anything in a long, long time, I didn't anticipate how much time it was going to take. While my child quickly detailed her creation, I simply stared at mine. Trying to decide what design would most impress my friends and make my enemies cringe. Or something like that.
Hannah is extremely artistic, using colors, lines, and shapes to create one fantastic looking piece of art.
I painted my mug red.
As the red paint dried to a funny looking pink, I decided my creation needed a white "B" on it's side. This came to me only after spending an inordinate amount of time determining that the words "Red Sox" would be much too difficult to paint successfully around the side of the cup. It seemed like eons passed as I traced a "B" on the cup with a pencil and then filled the traced "B" with white paint. Then I had to touch the edges up with red, then white, then red, then white--well, you get the idea. I didn't find it particularly helpful to be surrounded by all sorts of brightly colored, immaculately designed examples of painting by those who had gone before me. My frustration at my level of imperfection began to show through despite the girls continual reassurances that I had painted a really, really attractive "B".
Then an idea popped into my head. The other side of the mug could be different! Multicolored fish maybe, or a Bible verse, or perhaps a cross. Eventually I put a cross and a verse on the reverse side of the mug.
Sigh. It looked terrible. So I covered it up with even more bright red paint. Not satisfied with plain red, I perused the assortment of shape stamps. Finally choosing one, I put footprints, purple footprints, over the red paint. Watching the feet dry I searched for the perfect word to describe my creation, and it finally came to me.
Ridiculous. My mug looked absolutely ridiculous.
Sensing my discomfort as I disdainfully eyed my creation, Hannah's friend said, "Look, all you have to do is wipe the paint off. Cover it with a little more red, and you'll be done." Sure enough, a little water on a paper towel, some violent wiping motions, a little more red paint, and my mug with the decent looking "B" was ready for the kiln.
As I wiped the purple feet off my mug, I thought about Isaiah 64:8. About no matter how imperfect, how messed up, how sinful we can get, still all of us are all the work of God's hands and loved beyond anything we could imagine. How many times in my life have I made foolish mistakes, much more foolish than simply messing up my mug at the pottery place? And God, like a potter, always uses his tender hands to wipe our foolish mistakes away, so we can all look much less--well, ridiculous--and much more like him.
What a God this is, who is willing to work with us, to mold us and shape us into something valuable, beautiful, and priceless. A God who patiently wipes off our 'purple feet' mistakes, gently covering over them with the bright red blood of Jesus. A God who delights in filling our too human 'jars of clay' with the great treasure of his Spirit (II Cor. 4:7).
I'll not soon forget this experience at Brown Dog Pottery. A wonderful time spent with my 'little girl' who is all too quickly becoming a delightful young woman. And a powerful reminder of the awesome love of a God who shapes us with tender hands like a potter.
We are the clay, you are the potter;
we are all the work of your hand.
Isaiah 64:8 NIV
Last Friday afternoon was spent with my daughter Hannah at a place called Brown Dog Pottery. Hannah wanted to go because her good friend from church works there and will soon leave for college. I wanted to go because I needed a break from a hectic work week and wanted to spend time with my soon to be in high school daughter.
The store has a wide selection of paintable ceramic pottery, ranging from small tiles and figurines to plates and mugs to a "who would buy that?" two foot tall rooster. Hannah selected a jewelry box to paint, while I chose a good sized coffee mug. We sat across from each other at a long table after picking out colors and brushes.
Not having painted anything in a long, long time, I didn't anticipate how much time it was going to take. While my child quickly detailed her creation, I simply stared at mine. Trying to decide what design would most impress my friends and make my enemies cringe. Or something like that.
Hannah is extremely artistic, using colors, lines, and shapes to create one fantastic looking piece of art.
I painted my mug red.
As the red paint dried to a funny looking pink, I decided my creation needed a white "B" on it's side. This came to me only after spending an inordinate amount of time determining that the words "Red Sox" would be much too difficult to paint successfully around the side of the cup. It seemed like eons passed as I traced a "B" on the cup with a pencil and then filled the traced "B" with white paint. Then I had to touch the edges up with red, then white, then red, then white--well, you get the idea. I didn't find it particularly helpful to be surrounded by all sorts of brightly colored, immaculately designed examples of painting by those who had gone before me. My frustration at my level of imperfection began to show through despite the girls continual reassurances that I had painted a really, really attractive "B".
Then an idea popped into my head. The other side of the mug could be different! Multicolored fish maybe, or a Bible verse, or perhaps a cross. Eventually I put a cross and a verse on the reverse side of the mug.
Sigh. It looked terrible. So I covered it up with even more bright red paint. Not satisfied with plain red, I perused the assortment of shape stamps. Finally choosing one, I put footprints, purple footprints, over the red paint. Watching the feet dry I searched for the perfect word to describe my creation, and it finally came to me.
Ridiculous. My mug looked absolutely ridiculous.
Sensing my discomfort as I disdainfully eyed my creation, Hannah's friend said, "Look, all you have to do is wipe the paint off. Cover it with a little more red, and you'll be done." Sure enough, a little water on a paper towel, some violent wiping motions, a little more red paint, and my mug with the decent looking "B" was ready for the kiln.
As I wiped the purple feet off my mug, I thought about Isaiah 64:8. About no matter how imperfect, how messed up, how sinful we can get, still all of us are all the work of God's hands and loved beyond anything we could imagine. How many times in my life have I made foolish mistakes, much more foolish than simply messing up my mug at the pottery place? And God, like a potter, always uses his tender hands to wipe our foolish mistakes away, so we can all look much less--well, ridiculous--and much more like him.
What a God this is, who is willing to work with us, to mold us and shape us into something valuable, beautiful, and priceless. A God who patiently wipes off our 'purple feet' mistakes, gently covering over them with the bright red blood of Jesus. A God who delights in filling our too human 'jars of clay' with the great treasure of his Spirit (II Cor. 4:7).
I'll not soon forget this experience at Brown Dog Pottery. A wonderful time spent with my 'little girl' who is all too quickly becoming a delightful young woman. And a powerful reminder of the awesome love of a God who shapes us with tender hands like a potter.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Refusing to Let Go of God
“…Jacob said, ‘I will not let you go unless you bless me.”
Genesis 32:26, NLT
Jacob’s story as it is told in the book of Genesis is one of my favorites. The story begins with Jacob camped out by the Jabbok River waiting to meet Esau, his twin brother. As you probably remember, Jacob cheated Esau out of his firstborn blessing and has now received word that Esau is about to pay him a visit accompanied by an army of 400 men undoubtedly in order to get revenge. As Jacob waits overnight and wonders what is going to happen, he ends up wrestling with a man. Because the ‘man’ saw he could not win, he wrenches Jacob’s hip from his socket. Astonishingly, even with his hip out of joint Jacob will not let go until the ‘man’ blesses him! The ‘man’, who turns out to be an angel of the Lord, finally blesses Jacob and gives him a new name, Israel, which means “he who struggles with God.”
What I most admire in this story is Jacob’s perseverance and the way he will absolutely not let go until he receives a blessing. His faith makes me wonder about my own--could I persevere with God in prayer and to not let go until God blesses? It seems that what most of us desire from our prayers are instant answers and immediate results. Yet the Bible speaks many times about persistence—from Jesus’ parable about the widow and the unjust judge (Luke 18) to Paul’s many comments on persevering in prayer, such as ‘keep on praying’ (Rom.12:12), pray at all times and be persistent in your prayers (Eph. 8:18), ‘devote yourselves to prayer’ (Col. 4:2), and finally to ‘never stop praying’ (I Thess. 5:17).
For many years I have pondered the power of intercessory prayer, which is simply the type of prayer where we lift up the needs of others before God. Some people seem to have a gift for this type of prayer. Recently one of my professors described intercessory prayer as similar to when Jacob clung to God and would not let go--except in intercessory prayer we cling to God, not letting go until he blesses the person we are praying for. This certainly challenges the usual way we pray for others. Instead of just mumbling a prayer to God on someone’s behalf what if we, like Jacob, grasped God tightly and would not let go? What would it be like to persist in prayer and not give up when the answers don’t come quickly?
Would that we all could learn to be more like Jacob--unwilling to let go, daring to persist, to persevere, to hang on for dear life--as we lift others before God in prayer.
Genesis 32:26, NLT
Jacob’s story as it is told in the book of Genesis is one of my favorites. The story begins with Jacob camped out by the Jabbok River waiting to meet Esau, his twin brother. As you probably remember, Jacob cheated Esau out of his firstborn blessing and has now received word that Esau is about to pay him a visit accompanied by an army of 400 men undoubtedly in order to get revenge. As Jacob waits overnight and wonders what is going to happen, he ends up wrestling with a man. Because the ‘man’ saw he could not win, he wrenches Jacob’s hip from his socket. Astonishingly, even with his hip out of joint Jacob will not let go until the ‘man’ blesses him! The ‘man’, who turns out to be an angel of the Lord, finally blesses Jacob and gives him a new name, Israel, which means “he who struggles with God.”
What I most admire in this story is Jacob’s perseverance and the way he will absolutely not let go until he receives a blessing. His faith makes me wonder about my own--could I persevere with God in prayer and to not let go until God blesses? It seems that what most of us desire from our prayers are instant answers and immediate results. Yet the Bible speaks many times about persistence—from Jesus’ parable about the widow and the unjust judge (Luke 18) to Paul’s many comments on persevering in prayer, such as ‘keep on praying’ (Rom.12:12), pray at all times and be persistent in your prayers (Eph. 8:18), ‘devote yourselves to prayer’ (Col. 4:2), and finally to ‘never stop praying’ (I Thess. 5:17).
For many years I have pondered the power of intercessory prayer, which is simply the type of prayer where we lift up the needs of others before God. Some people seem to have a gift for this type of prayer. Recently one of my professors described intercessory prayer as similar to when Jacob clung to God and would not let go--except in intercessory prayer we cling to God, not letting go until he blesses the person we are praying for. This certainly challenges the usual way we pray for others. Instead of just mumbling a prayer to God on someone’s behalf what if we, like Jacob, grasped God tightly and would not let go? What would it be like to persist in prayer and not give up when the answers don’t come quickly?
Would that we all could learn to be more like Jacob--unwilling to let go, daring to persist, to persevere, to hang on for dear life--as we lift others before God in prayer.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Noah and the Impervious Neanderthals
3 minutes in the car tonight with my son Noah. A verbatim transcript.
"Dad, did you know that they are not going to launch the Space Shuttle anymore?"
"No I hadn't heard that."
"Yes, it is being retired. They are building a new ship that is impervious to heat, in order to fly to Mars."
Silence. Did he just say impervious?
How many 10 year olds know the word impervious?
"They want to build it within the next three years."
I want to ask him how he knows this but I'm afraid to.
Some deer are in a field next to the road.
"Oh. Hey look at all those deer! Did you see them?"
Noah looks around. "Yeah I see them."
"There were four of them. Did you see all four? One of them had horns," I say.
Silence.
"Dad, deer don't have horns, they're called antlers."
"Oops. My mistake." How embarrassing.
Silence.
We drive up to our house.
"Hey Noah, remember this time last year they were building our house?"
"I remember."
"And we were living in the rental house. Do you remember the rent house?"
Silence. He furrows his brow and frowns.
"I don't want to remember the rent house," he says very seriously.
"Why not?"
"Because I had to share a room with that Neanderthal named Hannah Potts."
Ah, yes. I also had a Neanderthal sibling. A terrible thing to deal with. I want to assure him that Neanderthals do get better over time, but he'll find that out for himself.
Interesting what one can learn by spending a few short minutes in the car with a child!
"Dad, did you know that they are not going to launch the Space Shuttle anymore?"
"No I hadn't heard that."
"Yes, it is being retired. They are building a new ship that is impervious to heat, in order to fly to Mars."
Silence. Did he just say impervious?
How many 10 year olds know the word impervious?
"They want to build it within the next three years."
I want to ask him how he knows this but I'm afraid to.
Some deer are in a field next to the road.
"Oh. Hey look at all those deer! Did you see them?"
Noah looks around. "Yeah I see them."
"There were four of them. Did you see all four? One of them had horns," I say.
Silence.
"Dad, deer don't have horns, they're called antlers."
"Oops. My mistake." How embarrassing.
Silence.
We drive up to our house.
"Hey Noah, remember this time last year they were building our house?"
"I remember."
"And we were living in the rental house. Do you remember the rent house?"
Silence. He furrows his brow and frowns.
"I don't want to remember the rent house," he says very seriously.
"Why not?"
"Because I had to share a room with that Neanderthal named Hannah Potts."
Ah, yes. I also had a Neanderthal sibling. A terrible thing to deal with. I want to assure him that Neanderthals do get better over time, but he'll find that out for himself.
Interesting what one can learn by spending a few short minutes in the car with a child!
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