Brett Favre, quarterback for the Green Bay Packers, announced his retirement this week. At a news conference yesterday his simple explanation for the move was that he was tired. At thirty-eight and possessing graying hair, Favre and his family have been through multiple tragedies and upheavals in the last few years, but he kept on playing, even the day after his father died.
Having given more to the game than most and played the game with more joy than anyone, Favre had a right to his reasons and wanted his loyal fans to hear those reasons from him, not filtered through the media, which has been known to have quite vivid imaginations regarding the facts at times. Favre was emotional during the hour broadcast from Lambeau Field, home of the Packers and all they have accomplished. It seemed he embodied every uphill battle and triumph the team had delivered to the people of Wisconsin during his sixteen seasons.
What was quite wonderful, and rather poignant, was that of all the records that Favre holds - most yards passing, most starts, most passes completed among them - he claimed none solely for himself. He believes everything he did was a team effort and the whole team deserved credit for what are labeled publicly as his achievements. And what matters most to him is that he is leaving at the top of his game by his own standards, not anyone else's.
That said, Brett Favre is the first to tell you his is not perfect. His battles with prescription drug dependency and alcohol abuse are well-known and almost cost him his marriage and family.
But between the public hero and the private man who struggled to work through his issues to reemerge in wholeness and health lies grace. In this respect Brett Favre, Jesus and the rest of us have grace in common.
Grace is one of those words that gets tossed around like a Frisbee at a church social, so for the record, my dictionary and I are defining grace as, " unmerited favor or generous courtesy granted." Take your pick. Either way, grace is something we cherish when we are the recipients and something we have a lot to learn about offering up more often. So I think it is important to take the time to say that we may not be as familiar with how grace functions as we may pride ourselves.
With that settled, please know that I am not calling Brett Favre a messiah in any way, shape or form, nor do I believe he had a messiah complex. I don't think Jesus did either. Jesus lived His life with humility, kindness, faith and a complete boldness that was unheard of in His time and unmatched in our own. His public ministry, marked by frequent run-ins with religious authorities and filled with conflict, also contained instances of insightful teaching, miraculous healings and speaking events that drew crowds simply by word of mouth. The level of warmth and acceptance He felt for the marginalized people of His culture - women, children, tax collectors, prostitutes - drew controversy, but didn't distract Him from His work and did little to damage His image with the general population. People loved Him for who He was and what He brought to their lives: hope.
Meanwhile, scripture tells us that Jesus did struggle with this work He was called to do, and even more so, the brutal end he foresaw for His own life. Frustration with the disciples is evident. They can't be blamed for not quite getting the full depth of Jesus' thoughts and ideas. We have barely scratched the surface of that ourselves and we possess two thousand years of hindsight. I am fairly sure Jesus didn't blame them either. Having grown up in the Temple, Jesus also never left his faith behind to pursue or create a new religion. He understood, better than most, the power religious institutions can have over people. So even in his verbal scuffles with Scribes, Pharisees and Sadducees He knew they were trying to preserve a history and a people which had known more slavery than freedom, while He was pointing the way to a newly-defined freedom in God's love. Crowds followed Him day and night, hardly giving Him any opportunity for sleep, let alone personal reflection and prayer, but for these and the many people who were never able to grasp what Jesus was offering them, Jesus only had mercy and compassion.
And yet, in all that he thought, said and did, He didn't take credit for His knowledge, insight, teaching or preaching abilities, but always pointed back to God as His Sources of being. It may have been easier to smile and say, "Thank you," but He didn't. We remember Him today as One with authority, but also great humility. We remember Him as a man of grace, a man who gave unmerited favor and generous courtesy to those least deserving and those most in need of its transformative power.
And so, we are back to Brett Favre, expressing humility in the face of great opportunity to take all the credit, smile and say, "Thank you." Instead he chose the grace of shared experience, shared victory and shared credit with the people who helped him make it all possible. He chose grace, giving favor to those who had not asked him for it. He offered generous courtesy when no one would have faulted him for doing otherwise. He chose grace.
We too have the opportunity to express humility in the face of opportunities to take all the credit, smile and say, "Thank you." But instead, we can choose to extend grace to others at times when unmerited, unearned favor or generous courtesy may take some effort on our part. The effort is worth it, particularly when we may be blessed with grace we have not merited or earned, or have generous courtesy extended at a time when someone else makes the effort for us.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Primary Moments
Tuesday was a big day in United States politics.
In case you haven't heard we here in the US are in the process of figuring out who our next president will be. Final elections won't be held until November, but state primaries proceed through early summer, determining how many delegate votes each candidate will bring to their party's convention.
Senator John McCain earned the Republican party nomination last night, winning enough votes for Mike Huckabee, also running for the nomination, to concede defeat. Democrats, many of whom believed they would awake this morning to Senator Barack Obama defeating Senator Hillary Clinton for the party''s top spot, were met instead by Senator Clinton's three primary wins in Ohio, Rhode Island and Texas. Her hopes live and the Democrats still have a choice to make before the final leg of the campaign trail commences.
Presidential politics are usually more cut and dried, but this year is different. We have no incumbent president or vice president running for the job of leading the country. Many of us are discouraged over our involvement in the Iraq war, our own sagging economy and the general downward turn the country has taken during the last seven years of the Bush presidency. We want change, and people seem to be waking up to the fact that this is a democracy and we all have to participate to make it function like one.
Because this year is different, we have choices and we appear to be exercising them. More people are actually discussing politics again, stating their opinions, saying who they like and why. Some people are also listening to each other, considering what points they may have missed about a particular candidate. It's been a long time since we Americans cared enough to carry on a conversation about the future of our own country. We are desperately in need of this thing called hope.
We are also desperately in need of this thing we call faith.
Although it is said that religion and politics don't mix, I would contend that faith and politics cannot be separated on an individual, a more personal level. I don't so much care about large scale religious battles over land, communicant members or Best Church Band of 2008. My interest settles on those simple conversations we have when our guard is down and we feel we can trust another human being with a small part of our souls. These moments of personal exposure can be fleeting, but hold deep wells of hope for what we can mean to each other as God's people.
Consider how you may express your faith in a study group at your church. Would you be ready to quote scripture or a memorized passage from a prominent author familiar to most people sitting in the circle around you? Is the level of intimacy you feel with your fellow worshippers strong enough to withstand differences of opinion between political candidates or scriptural interpretations? Would you be willing to tell the person next to you that a mistake you made in your personal life may cost you your home or your family? Yet every day these kinds of truths are told and intimacies are shared among perfect strangers on commuter trains, in grocery store lines and at public restroom sinks. We find it easier to be ourselves, speak of our beliefs and our lives with people who know nothing about us and who likely will never see us again.
We keep certain boundaries around ourselves when we believe we are around good church people who expect us to be a certain way, sound like them or believe the same things they do because we believe in God, just like they do. We don't want to admit that famous author makes no sense to us, or that the political candidate another is supporting does not speak to our values. We don't want to fully admit who we are because we are afraid of being judged, even if we may be equally judgmental of someone else.
My point is that even though we like the idea of religious freedom in our country, the same we we value democracy as a whole, we don't much like to have discussions that embody that freedom because then we would have to actually think about what we believe. Agreeing with the group at church functions or sharing what we really feel and believe with total strangers in public places brings about the same result: we stay hidden, our faith stays stagnant, never integrating with our actions and allowing us to live fully as God's people.
I have heard mentioned that our faith, though personal, is not private. But living a public faith takes courage, resilience and the willingness to listen. Not everyone shares the same religious beliefs, even people sitting in the same pew with us on Sunday morning. Faith, like democracy, is not a spectator sport. Challenging each other, through discussion, education, open-mindedness and faithful observance to grow what we believe beyond a childhood memory of "Jesus Loves Me" is part of who we are called to be for and with one another.
In case you haven't heard we here in the US are in the process of figuring out who our next president will be. Final elections won't be held until November, but state primaries proceed through early summer, determining how many delegate votes each candidate will bring to their party's convention.
Senator John McCain earned the Republican party nomination last night, winning enough votes for Mike Huckabee, also running for the nomination, to concede defeat. Democrats, many of whom believed they would awake this morning to Senator Barack Obama defeating Senator Hillary Clinton for the party''s top spot, were met instead by Senator Clinton's three primary wins in Ohio, Rhode Island and Texas. Her hopes live and the Democrats still have a choice to make before the final leg of the campaign trail commences.
Presidential politics are usually more cut and dried, but this year is different. We have no incumbent president or vice president running for the job of leading the country. Many of us are discouraged over our involvement in the Iraq war, our own sagging economy and the general downward turn the country has taken during the last seven years of the Bush presidency. We want change, and people seem to be waking up to the fact that this is a democracy and we all have to participate to make it function like one.
Because this year is different, we have choices and we appear to be exercising them. More people are actually discussing politics again, stating their opinions, saying who they like and why. Some people are also listening to each other, considering what points they may have missed about a particular candidate. It's been a long time since we Americans cared enough to carry on a conversation about the future of our own country. We are desperately in need of this thing called hope.
We are also desperately in need of this thing we call faith.
Although it is said that religion and politics don't mix, I would contend that faith and politics cannot be separated on an individual, a more personal level. I don't so much care about large scale religious battles over land, communicant members or Best Church Band of 2008. My interest settles on those simple conversations we have when our guard is down and we feel we can trust another human being with a small part of our souls. These moments of personal exposure can be fleeting, but hold deep wells of hope for what we can mean to each other as God's people.
Consider how you may express your faith in a study group at your church. Would you be ready to quote scripture or a memorized passage from a prominent author familiar to most people sitting in the circle around you? Is the level of intimacy you feel with your fellow worshippers strong enough to withstand differences of opinion between political candidates or scriptural interpretations? Would you be willing to tell the person next to you that a mistake you made in your personal life may cost you your home or your family? Yet every day these kinds of truths are told and intimacies are shared among perfect strangers on commuter trains, in grocery store lines and at public restroom sinks. We find it easier to be ourselves, speak of our beliefs and our lives with people who know nothing about us and who likely will never see us again.
We keep certain boundaries around ourselves when we believe we are around good church people who expect us to be a certain way, sound like them or believe the same things they do because we believe in God, just like they do. We don't want to admit that famous author makes no sense to us, or that the political candidate another is supporting does not speak to our values. We don't want to fully admit who we are because we are afraid of being judged, even if we may be equally judgmental of someone else.
My point is that even though we like the idea of religious freedom in our country, the same we we value democracy as a whole, we don't much like to have discussions that embody that freedom because then we would have to actually think about what we believe. Agreeing with the group at church functions or sharing what we really feel and believe with total strangers in public places brings about the same result: we stay hidden, our faith stays stagnant, never integrating with our actions and allowing us to live fully as God's people.
I have heard mentioned that our faith, though personal, is not private. But living a public faith takes courage, resilience and the willingness to listen. Not everyone shares the same religious beliefs, even people sitting in the same pew with us on Sunday morning. Faith, like democracy, is not a spectator sport. Challenging each other, through discussion, education, open-mindedness and faithful observance to grow what we believe beyond a childhood memory of "Jesus Loves Me" is part of who we are called to be for and with one another.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Love in These Times
Valentines Day here, but I must admit that I miss the way love used to be. We don't think or talk about love with that old fashioned charm that once warmed our hearts. Love used to be about romance, flowers, candy, sweet notes secretly passed between lovers as private, delightful gestures. Love was a treasured commodity at one time, something sought after, cherished and protected. Love, longed for, and then, finally claimed, was honored with constant care and affection.
But talk of love is different now. Conversation about love seems to be stuck somewhere between intensely practical and completely unrealistic. So much of life boils down to the everyday details that hold our lives together and love has become just one more of those practical applications that bind us to each other like crazy glue. The other way love is often considered is as a magical adventure between soul mates who never misunderstand or hurt one another and live happily ever after like characters in a children's fairy tale.
Personally, I find the former rather stifling and the latter more pressure than I could ever live with. While my head tells me there are a hundred and one things that truly need to be done every day, my heart is quite clear in expressing its needs as well, and those needs have a good bit invested in being attended to with warmth, kindness and generosity of spirit. Would that love might be a place to be extravagant, whimsical, delighted in all that we can do and be for the people we love best.
There is Biblical precedent for this rich display of God's greatest gift to humanity. I Corinthians 13, often quoted at weddings, offers a stunning portrait of what Paul's interpretation of how God's love looks, what it clearly does not resemble and how we make it visible. Deceptively simple, each verse offers a mirror to the reader to help them determine how well they are giving what they so dearly wish to receive for themselves.
For starters, love is second to nothing in its importance in our lives, including vast language skills, prophetic pronouncements, faith and martyrdom. Next, what love looks like is described in detail. Love is patient, kind, not jealous or boastful. Love is not arrogant or rude. Love doesn't push its own agenda, nor is it irritable or resentful. Love is happy when things go right, not when they go wrong. Love is very strong, bearing all things, believing all things, hoping all things, enduring all things. Love doesn't end.
Then Paul points out the things that aren't quite as important as love, telling us that while love endures, these other things eventually fall away. Things like prophecies, languages, knowledge don't last the way love does. Paul finally draws us to understand that love, while enduring, is also perfected in allowing ourselves to know and be known by God, and by extension, each other. It is in this rhythm, this dance of life to which we are called to be with each other, that we come to fully grasp what it means to love each other. While faith and hope are valid companions, love is the greatest, most abiding force in our world.
The question then, each to ourselves, is to figure out how much we are helping or hindering our own process in knowing and being known in the world's most extravagant of all adventures. Rather than wondering what our beloved is going to present us with this Valentines Day, perhaps we can set aside some time to think about our own ideas of love and how they inform our daily lives with the people we love. We are constantly being reminded that our thoughts influence our lives as nothing else can. I believe this is true, and because of this truth we have a grand opportunity to reclaim some territory for that old fashioned, charming way of talking about love. You remember, that kind of love that endures, that inspires love songs and love letters. The kind of love that bears all things, believes in what can be and hopes with a full heart that all good things will come to pass.
But talk of love is different now. Conversation about love seems to be stuck somewhere between intensely practical and completely unrealistic. So much of life boils down to the everyday details that hold our lives together and love has become just one more of those practical applications that bind us to each other like crazy glue. The other way love is often considered is as a magical adventure between soul mates who never misunderstand or hurt one another and live happily ever after like characters in a children's fairy tale.
Personally, I find the former rather stifling and the latter more pressure than I could ever live with. While my head tells me there are a hundred and one things that truly need to be done every day, my heart is quite clear in expressing its needs as well, and those needs have a good bit invested in being attended to with warmth, kindness and generosity of spirit. Would that love might be a place to be extravagant, whimsical, delighted in all that we can do and be for the people we love best.
There is Biblical precedent for this rich display of God's greatest gift to humanity. I Corinthians 13, often quoted at weddings, offers a stunning portrait of what Paul's interpretation of how God's love looks, what it clearly does not resemble and how we make it visible. Deceptively simple, each verse offers a mirror to the reader to help them determine how well they are giving what they so dearly wish to receive for themselves.
For starters, love is second to nothing in its importance in our lives, including vast language skills, prophetic pronouncements, faith and martyrdom. Next, what love looks like is described in detail. Love is patient, kind, not jealous or boastful. Love is not arrogant or rude. Love doesn't push its own agenda, nor is it irritable or resentful. Love is happy when things go right, not when they go wrong. Love is very strong, bearing all things, believing all things, hoping all things, enduring all things. Love doesn't end.
Then Paul points out the things that aren't quite as important as love, telling us that while love endures, these other things eventually fall away. Things like prophecies, languages, knowledge don't last the way love does. Paul finally draws us to understand that love, while enduring, is also perfected in allowing ourselves to know and be known by God, and by extension, each other. It is in this rhythm, this dance of life to which we are called to be with each other, that we come to fully grasp what it means to love each other. While faith and hope are valid companions, love is the greatest, most abiding force in our world.
The question then, each to ourselves, is to figure out how much we are helping or hindering our own process in knowing and being known in the world's most extravagant of all adventures. Rather than wondering what our beloved is going to present us with this Valentines Day, perhaps we can set aside some time to think about our own ideas of love and how they inform our daily lives with the people we love. We are constantly being reminded that our thoughts influence our lives as nothing else can. I believe this is true, and because of this truth we have a grand opportunity to reclaim some territory for that old fashioned, charming way of talking about love. You remember, that kind of love that endures, that inspires love songs and love letters. The kind of love that bears all things, believes in what can be and hopes with a full heart that all good things will come to pass.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
New Year Confession
Welcome to the Year of Our Lord 2008.
If you are following tradition and doing your homework, you have sent last year out with all its triumphs, celebrations, regrets and mistakes. You are ready to move smoothly into this bright, shiny new year with a clean slate, a light heart and a positive outlook on what is to come.
If you haven't quite gotten around to handling these year end closeouts, let me offer you the opportunity to enter into a personal confession. I have a confession to make. Perhaps you do to.
Confession? Yes, confession, but not solely in the way most of us consider the practice. Confession isn't just about listing all one's faults to a priest or to God, although that is part of what I am proposing here. Confession is also about declaring what we believe, saying out loud what principles we hold to in our defining moments. Confession could be summed up as understanding what we believe, but also understanding how we have fallen short of living by what we believe.
Start this process of personal reconciliation by asking yourself what matters to you most in life. On what do you place value? Family? Friends? Hard work? Justice? Mercy? Integrity? We all have specific ideas of what is important to us. We bring these values into our lives by how we choose our behaviors. If we value family we find ways to make time to include our relatives in our lives. If we consider justice to be a moral commitment we find ways to act justly and create justice in the world. If we value mercy we extend mercy to those around us.
Confess to yourself now what principles guide your existence on this planet. Then take a few moments to identify how you are living our these principles.
Confession also, in the more well-known usage, offers us the chance to let bygones be bygones with ourselves, giving us the freedom to move forward in our lives without the burdens of what has already passed and over which we no control. Looking with honesty and humility at actions we have taken or words we have spoken that have not matched up with what we value is the process of confession. In other words, to confess our sins is to identify where we have separated ourselves from what we would have done or said if we had lived by what we believe. Take a few moments to see what you would have done differently and where you feel separation from who and what you want to be.
How we confess those missteps, those separations within ourselves is quite personal. Some people prefer the privacy of prayer, speaking directly with God. Others prefer the support of another person, be they minister, priest, rabbi, counselor or friend, a human being by whom they will not feel judged or criticized. Others write letters to themselves or keep a journal intended only for themselves. The how of confession is important only insofar as we each must choose what method is appropriate for us. No one can or should direct another to examine and revitalize their life.
And this brings us to the most important aspect of confession, particularly in our present world: confession isn't about inflicting guilt or shame or blame on ourselves or each other. Confession is the process by which we redeem our true selves, the person God delighted in creating, thereby bringing us back to a closer union with our Source of Being. In confession we remind ourselves to Whom we belong. Confessing what we no longer want to repeat from the past allows us the grace to look to the future with a renewed spirit of faith.
If you are following tradition and doing your homework, you have sent last year out with all its triumphs, celebrations, regrets and mistakes. You are ready to move smoothly into this bright, shiny new year with a clean slate, a light heart and a positive outlook on what is to come.
If you haven't quite gotten around to handling these year end closeouts, let me offer you the opportunity to enter into a personal confession. I have a confession to make. Perhaps you do to.
Confession? Yes, confession, but not solely in the way most of us consider the practice. Confession isn't just about listing all one's faults to a priest or to God, although that is part of what I am proposing here. Confession is also about declaring what we believe, saying out loud what principles we hold to in our defining moments. Confession could be summed up as understanding what we believe, but also understanding how we have fallen short of living by what we believe.
Start this process of personal reconciliation by asking yourself what matters to you most in life. On what do you place value? Family? Friends? Hard work? Justice? Mercy? Integrity? We all have specific ideas of what is important to us. We bring these values into our lives by how we choose our behaviors. If we value family we find ways to make time to include our relatives in our lives. If we consider justice to be a moral commitment we find ways to act justly and create justice in the world. If we value mercy we extend mercy to those around us.
Confess to yourself now what principles guide your existence on this planet. Then take a few moments to identify how you are living our these principles.
Confession also, in the more well-known usage, offers us the chance to let bygones be bygones with ourselves, giving us the freedom to move forward in our lives without the burdens of what has already passed and over which we no control. Looking with honesty and humility at actions we have taken or words we have spoken that have not matched up with what we value is the process of confession. In other words, to confess our sins is to identify where we have separated ourselves from what we would have done or said if we had lived by what we believe. Take a few moments to see what you would have done differently and where you feel separation from who and what you want to be.
How we confess those missteps, those separations within ourselves is quite personal. Some people prefer the privacy of prayer, speaking directly with God. Others prefer the support of another person, be they minister, priest, rabbi, counselor or friend, a human being by whom they will not feel judged or criticized. Others write letters to themselves or keep a journal intended only for themselves. The how of confession is important only insofar as we each must choose what method is appropriate for us. No one can or should direct another to examine and revitalize their life.
And this brings us to the most important aspect of confession, particularly in our present world: confession isn't about inflicting guilt or shame or blame on ourselves or each other. Confession is the process by which we redeem our true selves, the person God delighted in creating, thereby bringing us back to a closer union with our Source of Being. In confession we remind ourselves to Whom we belong. Confessing what we no longer want to repeat from the past allows us the grace to look to the future with a renewed spirit of faith.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Oh Jesus Now Appear
In two weeks Christmas will be here and almost gone. Two weeks. That doesn't seem like much time to prepare for such a life-changing event as the coming of our savior to earth. As I've been out and about, finishing my holiday shopping and just taking care of the details of everyday life, I've noticed a distinct change in the the past few days. Perhaps people are beginning to realize that the time is almost at hand, that Christmas only comes once a year and it is time to pay attention.
However, we are still at war with Iraq and contemplating an extension of this violence into Iran. Mall shootings make headlines. The people of Darfur suffer as they have for the past two years we have been aware of their plight. But still, Christmas is coming, and we must pay attention for where God is calling us to see this great, mysterious gift. We collectively stand at a crossroad between our hopes for the world and our expectation that God's will prevails, even if we aren't sure what that means.
I feel this space between my own hopes and expectations quite keenly today. A dear friend is beginning a second battle with cancer that has arrived unwelcome at her door. My faith tells me she will survive this and come out the other side whole. My heart and soul agree with unbridled hope. Not that last resort variety of hope that is pulled out when everything else has failed. This is the hope that believes, without condition, that God is with us all, always.
How many other people are living in an advent of hope that staves off fear of the unknown? What of this world is nagging at us, pulling our attention away from that grace that leads us forward in truth and righteousness to where God always is and always will be? Perhaps too many. And, perhaps, not enough. Odd as that may sound as we expect Jesus' arrival, more of us need to be conscious of what is actually happening in the world, and most importantly, in each other's lives. This wonderful intimacy God offers us in this reconciling relationship with the Christ is only squandered when we distance ourselves from its implications.
How deeply do we want to love and be loved? That is the question God asks us to ponder as we welcome God With Us. God sent a child, the place where love begins, to remind us of all that goes into being with and for one another. How we respond to this question tells us how much we are invested in living by what we believe of who God is and how we can embody God's love for each of us and all of us. Do we care for ourselves and each other enough to think about love and its hopes and expectations as our primary concern? Do we care for God enough to consider that God abides with us now and always will, despite everything?
However, we are still at war with Iraq and contemplating an extension of this violence into Iran. Mall shootings make headlines. The people of Darfur suffer as they have for the past two years we have been aware of their plight. But still, Christmas is coming, and we must pay attention for where God is calling us to see this great, mysterious gift. We collectively stand at a crossroad between our hopes for the world and our expectation that God's will prevails, even if we aren't sure what that means.
I feel this space between my own hopes and expectations quite keenly today. A dear friend is beginning a second battle with cancer that has arrived unwelcome at her door. My faith tells me she will survive this and come out the other side whole. My heart and soul agree with unbridled hope. Not that last resort variety of hope that is pulled out when everything else has failed. This is the hope that believes, without condition, that God is with us all, always.
How many other people are living in an advent of hope that staves off fear of the unknown? What of this world is nagging at us, pulling our attention away from that grace that leads us forward in truth and righteousness to where God always is and always will be? Perhaps too many. And, perhaps, not enough. Odd as that may sound as we expect Jesus' arrival, more of us need to be conscious of what is actually happening in the world, and most importantly, in each other's lives. This wonderful intimacy God offers us in this reconciling relationship with the Christ is only squandered when we distance ourselves from its implications.
How deeply do we want to love and be loved? That is the question God asks us to ponder as we welcome God With Us. God sent a child, the place where love begins, to remind us of all that goes into being with and for one another. How we respond to this question tells us how much we are invested in living by what we believe of who God is and how we can embody God's love for each of us and all of us. Do we care for ourselves and each other enough to think about love and its hopes and expectations as our primary concern? Do we care for God enough to consider that God abides with us now and always will, despite everything?
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Creating Hope
The Christmas season is upon us and with these days of holiday preparation come certain expectations and memories that are as integral to our celebrations as traditional foods and decorations. Cherishing each moment, and the rich blend created among many moments, makes each year special, adding to the oral history passed through generations of friends and family gathering together over time. Evergreen trees brought into our homes, cookie exchanges, Advent wreathes, carol singing, last minute gift shopping and squeezing extra guests in at the table and into spare bedrooms are all part of the fun. Little of this is accomplished without some grumbling and frustration, but that is part of the season too. Life doesn't stop, even for this most miraculous time of year.
For many of us this is first and foremost a season of miracles. The Christian tradition holds that the birth of the Christ Child, Jesus, fulfilled the prophecy that God would send a Messiah to deliver and redeem the people of Israel. The ordinary way in which Jesus arrived still doesn't appear very miraculous, but somehow, in its simplicity, still carries awe and reverence even today. How Jesus of Nazareth carried out his life mission measures as a humble existence at best. He was possessed of absolutely no material wealth, never traveled very far from his hometown and constantly relied on the kindness of strangers for his most basic needs. Despite what appears to be a rather nondescript life that ended in a horribly brutal death, Jesus' message of God's love, forgiveness and hope extended to include all those who would choose Him to be included in their lives.
But hearing a good bit of, "Bah, humbug!" spirit around me with the Christmas season barely begun, I am inclined to believe that a whole lot of people have lost touch with their sense of the miraculous and of hope itself. More so, I am seeing that even more people don't have a desire to welcome hope into their lives. There are certainly always good reasons not to hope. The world is filled with hatred, evil and just a general mean-spiritedness that overwhelms even the most joyful souls. Hopelessness is a heavy burden to carry and a difficult one to lay down once we have become accustomed to its weight. Hopelessness curves our spines and twists our souls into believing that there is nothing else for us. Hopelessness, if we let it, becomes our faith, and we lose our hearts in the bargain.
You see, for as many reasons as there are not to hope, there is always the best reason of all to hope, and that is that we can. Hope, like anything thing else is a choice, a decision or a series of decisions made throughout our lives. Hope is actively believing that something can happen when logic says that it won't. Hope doesn't exist in a vacuum, but resides in the will and the hearts of those yearning for more and knowing that it can be. Hope isn't for the faint of heart, but for those strong enough to have a vision of what they want and know it can come to be. They can then focus their attention on making that happen. In this sense hope is a form a prayer, a preparatory step of longing toward the reality of what isn't quite tangible.
I love this time of year because even among all the extra shopping, parties, stresses and strains we put ourselves through, we still have this opportunity to reflect back on the Christmas story of Jesus' birth, remember the ages of hope and expectation the preceded that simple moment that changed history and consider how it has changed us. How we live and interact with one another is still the same as then. We still gather as friends and family to share our lives, share stories and live with hope, yearning for what can be. Although we are surrounded by twinkling lights and sparkling ornaments, we are also nestled beneath the same starry night that helped lead some weary travelers to a small stable in the middle of nowhere to a newborn and his befuddled parents.
How did they know that this small baby was the person they sought? And even if he was, how old would he be before he assumed any kind of leadership role as king of his people? Perhaps that is what hope is most about, seeing the miraculous in the most ordinary of circumstances and trusting in its power to transform lives, and sometimes, even the world.
For many of us this is first and foremost a season of miracles. The Christian tradition holds that the birth of the Christ Child, Jesus, fulfilled the prophecy that God would send a Messiah to deliver and redeem the people of Israel. The ordinary way in which Jesus arrived still doesn't appear very miraculous, but somehow, in its simplicity, still carries awe and reverence even today. How Jesus of Nazareth carried out his life mission measures as a humble existence at best. He was possessed of absolutely no material wealth, never traveled very far from his hometown and constantly relied on the kindness of strangers for his most basic needs. Despite what appears to be a rather nondescript life that ended in a horribly brutal death, Jesus' message of God's love, forgiveness and hope extended to include all those who would choose Him to be included in their lives.
But hearing a good bit of, "Bah, humbug!" spirit around me with the Christmas season barely begun, I am inclined to believe that a whole lot of people have lost touch with their sense of the miraculous and of hope itself. More so, I am seeing that even more people don't have a desire to welcome hope into their lives. There are certainly always good reasons not to hope. The world is filled with hatred, evil and just a general mean-spiritedness that overwhelms even the most joyful souls. Hopelessness is a heavy burden to carry and a difficult one to lay down once we have become accustomed to its weight. Hopelessness curves our spines and twists our souls into believing that there is nothing else for us. Hopelessness, if we let it, becomes our faith, and we lose our hearts in the bargain.
You see, for as many reasons as there are not to hope, there is always the best reason of all to hope, and that is that we can. Hope, like anything thing else is a choice, a decision or a series of decisions made throughout our lives. Hope is actively believing that something can happen when logic says that it won't. Hope doesn't exist in a vacuum, but resides in the will and the hearts of those yearning for more and knowing that it can be. Hope isn't for the faint of heart, but for those strong enough to have a vision of what they want and know it can come to be. They can then focus their attention on making that happen. In this sense hope is a form a prayer, a preparatory step of longing toward the reality of what isn't quite tangible.
I love this time of year because even among all the extra shopping, parties, stresses and strains we put ourselves through, we still have this opportunity to reflect back on the Christmas story of Jesus' birth, remember the ages of hope and expectation the preceded that simple moment that changed history and consider how it has changed us. How we live and interact with one another is still the same as then. We still gather as friends and family to share our lives, share stories and live with hope, yearning for what can be. Although we are surrounded by twinkling lights and sparkling ornaments, we are also nestled beneath the same starry night that helped lead some weary travelers to a small stable in the middle of nowhere to a newborn and his befuddled parents.
How did they know that this small baby was the person they sought? And even if he was, how old would he be before he assumed any kind of leadership role as king of his people? Perhaps that is what hope is most about, seeing the miraculous in the most ordinary of circumstances and trusting in its power to transform lives, and sometimes, even the world.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Learning Abundance
What images come to mind when you consider the word abundance?
Are beautiful homes, shiny cars, lush resorts filled with palm trees and expansive beaches what you imagine? Perhaps sparkling jewels, closets overflowing with designer clothing and endless nights out on the town at first class restaurants are more your style. Would a big screen television, a computer so advanced it could almost run the world and a houseboat on the Mississippi be to your liking?
Maybe a full bank account is all you need in the world.
Financial comfort and material wealth easily accommodate one definition of abundance, the most common one, particularly here in the United States. Our American dream of single family home ownership, two new cars and great annual vacations pits itself against the realities of daily life and fluctuating economic patterns. Simply put : many of us aspire to look successful by creating a lifestyle of material means. We barter our future for lovely things, but don't necessarily feel accomplished, prosperous or content in possessing them. A consumer-based society has little else with which to work. Richness in things doesn't guarantee richness in relationships, spirituality or appreciation for our planet's natural resources.
What are some other ways to contemplate this idea of abundance? How do we shift this paradigm of abundance equals stuff? Where do we look to find ideas and examples that can broaden our perspective, maybe even change our lives? How can we learn abundance?
One resource is the Bible, which speaks of both wealth and abundance in many forms. The general perception is that God considers money and what it can leverage as evil. It's time to let go of that old, false myth and realize that God isn't so much concerned about what we possess as how we use it. The apostle Paul's first letter to his friend, Timothy, tells us, "The love of money is the root of all evils(I Timothy 6:10)." Loving money can become a temptation, a distraction from living one's faith, if it becomes a lifestyle choice. The Great Commandments encompass loving God, each other and ourselves. There is no room for the love of money in a world view that seeks to learn and live abundance. Letting go of the idea that money is the central source of abundance opens our minds to the possibility that there is more out there.
Jesus called many people blessed, abundant, throughout his three years of ministry, and explained what he meant, particularly in the Sermon on the Mount. "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter al kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so people persecuted prophets who were before you (Matthew 5:3-12)."
Jesus turned the idea of abundance on its head, pointing to those who appeared to have the least as being the most blessed. Jesus preached a new way of seeking out and discovering abundance in everyday life, places most people would never think of looking. The merciful and the meek, the peacemakers and the persecuted, lived and shared their abundance each day. Giving mercy creates an abundance of mercy in the world. Giving peaceful responses, makes the world a more peaceful place. Mourning that which has been lost to us helps others understand the importance of connectedness in community. Seeking God's righteousness in all that we do makes justice tangible and real for all people. Jesus' teachings draw each of us back to what we already have that we can share.
Recognizing we are already blessed, already abundant just as we are. is the most important thing we can know. Giving that blessing away is the most important thing we can do.
In a world that says scarcity is king, giving is uncomfortable business. If we give too much away we will have less for ourselves and less than our neighbors. So much for keeping up with the Joneses. But shifting gears, feeling that we each have more than enough to give, begins to redirect our sense of empowerment. Sharing a blessing like mercy or kindness takes nothing away from the giver. If fact, Jesus pointed out that anyone who offers blessings to another out of their own abundance will receive the same back automatically. It isn't how much we have that makes us abundant, but how much we give.
Learning abundance actively places us in the circle of wholeness that is creation itself. We each represent a portion of God's graceful riches to be shared with all of humanity. What are the blessings you hold in your life? How can you share with others out of this abundance?
Are beautiful homes, shiny cars, lush resorts filled with palm trees and expansive beaches what you imagine? Perhaps sparkling jewels, closets overflowing with designer clothing and endless nights out on the town at first class restaurants are more your style. Would a big screen television, a computer so advanced it could almost run the world and a houseboat on the Mississippi be to your liking?
Maybe a full bank account is all you need in the world.
Financial comfort and material wealth easily accommodate one definition of abundance, the most common one, particularly here in the United States. Our American dream of single family home ownership, two new cars and great annual vacations pits itself against the realities of daily life and fluctuating economic patterns. Simply put : many of us aspire to look successful by creating a lifestyle of material means. We barter our future for lovely things, but don't necessarily feel accomplished, prosperous or content in possessing them. A consumer-based society has little else with which to work. Richness in things doesn't guarantee richness in relationships, spirituality or appreciation for our planet's natural resources.
What are some other ways to contemplate this idea of abundance? How do we shift this paradigm of abundance equals stuff? Where do we look to find ideas and examples that can broaden our perspective, maybe even change our lives? How can we learn abundance?
One resource is the Bible, which speaks of both wealth and abundance in many forms. The general perception is that God considers money and what it can leverage as evil. It's time to let go of that old, false myth and realize that God isn't so much concerned about what we possess as how we use it. The apostle Paul's first letter to his friend, Timothy, tells us, "The love of money is the root of all evils(I Timothy 6:10)." Loving money can become a temptation, a distraction from living one's faith, if it becomes a lifestyle choice. The Great Commandments encompass loving God, each other and ourselves. There is no room for the love of money in a world view that seeks to learn and live abundance. Letting go of the idea that money is the central source of abundance opens our minds to the possibility that there is more out there.
Jesus called many people blessed, abundant, throughout his three years of ministry, and explained what he meant, particularly in the Sermon on the Mount. "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter al kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so people persecuted prophets who were before you (Matthew 5:3-12)."
Jesus turned the idea of abundance on its head, pointing to those who appeared to have the least as being the most blessed. Jesus preached a new way of seeking out and discovering abundance in everyday life, places most people would never think of looking. The merciful and the meek, the peacemakers and the persecuted, lived and shared their abundance each day. Giving mercy creates an abundance of mercy in the world. Giving peaceful responses, makes the world a more peaceful place. Mourning that which has been lost to us helps others understand the importance of connectedness in community. Seeking God's righteousness in all that we do makes justice tangible and real for all people. Jesus' teachings draw each of us back to what we already have that we can share.
Recognizing we are already blessed, already abundant just as we are. is the most important thing we can know. Giving that blessing away is the most important thing we can do.
In a world that says scarcity is king, giving is uncomfortable business. If we give too much away we will have less for ourselves and less than our neighbors. So much for keeping up with the Joneses. But shifting gears, feeling that we each have more than enough to give, begins to redirect our sense of empowerment. Sharing a blessing like mercy or kindness takes nothing away from the giver. If fact, Jesus pointed out that anyone who offers blessings to another out of their own abundance will receive the same back automatically. It isn't how much we have that makes us abundant, but how much we give.
Learning abundance actively places us in the circle of wholeness that is creation itself. We each represent a portion of God's graceful riches to be shared with all of humanity. What are the blessings you hold in your life? How can you share with others out of this abundance?
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