Buck Up

In 1999 my father told me that the world was going to come to a screeching halt as the calendar rolled over into 2000. He was prepared. He made lots of bullets and stored them in his basement along with a bunch of canned goods. Bullets would be the new currency and if we wanted to survive we could come live in his basement with the rest of the family. This was not the first time the world was supposed to collapse. I vaguely remember in fifth grade being told the world was running out of oxygen and we would all die like fish laying on a hot sunny dock. There were other examples but I think you get the point.

Since the pandemic hit, I've been hearing others talk about global warming, pestilences and plagues, economic collapse and political

unrest. Some of it is even true.

Again, I return to the scriptures for clarity. People have been predicting the world's end practically since its inception. Consider Luke 21. It happened like this. A bunch of people were standing around admiring the Temple and Jesus took the opportunity to tell them that it was all going to end up in a heap of rubble. Jesus continues to hold no illusions. The crowd wanted to know when this would happen. I can only presume that wanted to know how long they had to make bullets and buy canned green beans.

Instead of sharing the date of destruction, Jesus reframed the problem. He told them to watch out for "doomsday deceivers" (The Message translation). He told them not to fall for such foolishness and said this specifically, "When you hear of wars and uprisings, keep your head and don't panic. This is routine history and no sign of the end." Routine history. Scary and painful and confusing history.

Nonetheless - do this. Keep your head. Don't panic. Buck up. Seems like good advice for 2021. Funny and wonderful and miraculous how timeless Jesus' words are for us.

The Rise and Fall of Mike

It was early on in our recovery journey as a community where our fantasies turned to dust. Or at least mind did. I was baptizing this guy named Mike. He had been with us awhile, coming in early each Sunday morning to angrily set up chairs. Then he's sit in one and glare at the practicing musicians. He wasn't a fan of the music, he wanted to get to the meeting part of Sunday. Eventually he decided that he wanted to get baptized.

This took awhile to figure out. Our pilot project start up had not considered that anyone would show up and attend it, much less stick around long enough to ask to be baptized. We figured it out. I cannot remember now if he was in the first group of people who were baptized in the borrowed baptismal font in the sanctuary of our home church or if his was later, in the river. But what I do remember is what happened as he rose out of the water and slicked his hair out of his eyes.

"I can feel it. This is what I needed. This is the thing that is going to change everything for me." He declared this with conviction and shivers ran up my spine.

Look, I love miracles. I believe in miracles. I am scared to death of presumption and magical thinking. I've lost track of the timeline but I do not think he survived the year. The disease took him and I do not think this is at all what he had in mind when he rose up from those waters, cleansed and renewed, my brother in Christ.

Paul says something like this in Romans 6:3, "Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death?" Yes. Yes. I know this. But I forget.

Jesus lived without illusion. This is our work too.

"We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life."

Romans 6:4

Mike rose out of those waters and into a new life. It turned out it was not quite what he hoped for but it pleased God to give it to him anyway. I was hoping for longer for Mike - a miracle. I'm learning that faith does not guarantee miracles for us to have a renewed life but it will ask us to live without illusion and no small measure of courage.

Large Loving

One day last week Norah and I went on a mission - takeout at Chik-Fil-A. For whatever reason, our car ride reminded her of the previous weekend when the two of us had left a family gathering to return to our house and she rode with me.

"Meme, tomorrow I was sad when you took me to your house," says Norah. (She meant a few days ago; she's still getting past, present and future straightened out in her head.)

"Why were you sad darling girl?" I ask.

"Because we left my sweetheart Christian with Mommy Meredith," she explains.

"But Mommy Meredith and Christian followed us to my house, we were only apart for 2 minutes." I reply.

"Oh Meme, it is just so sad to be apart from my sweetheart," she sighs and one little tear rolls down her cheek. I hope she brings me in my wheelchair to the awards ceremony when she wins an Oscar.

Wouldn't it be grand if we had the faith of children, who dare to believe that an enemy is just a friend in disguise - waiting to mature a teeny tiny bit?

Come Back, Sweetheart!

My grandchildren, like yours I am sure, are perfect. Last Sunday afternoon, as happens most Sundays because we are super lucky to have them in town, they were running through the house playing chase. Christian would tease, "Come catch me Norah Jane...." and off he would run.

Norah would follow on fast little feet with her arms spread wide, "Come back sweetheart!"

It is just the cutest thing to watch them play.

Last summer, when they were almost a year younger, they struggled to play. Christian did not particularly want to share anything - especially the toys but including the water hose. Norah would grow frustrated with this miserly mister and on occasion, express her frustration with a little love bite. Sometimes Christian would push or tackle Norah; once Norah squirted him with the hose. On and on it went until it didn't - now they are best buddies.

Regardless of the earlier instances of toddler tussles, these two kids love each other well and I think they, like young children everywhere, have such great instincts for loving like Paul suggested we love in Romans 12 - one of my favorite chapters in the whole bible. Earlier in the passage Paul encourages us to "be ye transformed" by the renewing of our minds, but the part my grandkids remind me of is further along when Paul encourages us in 12 verses using 30 instructions to love one another. He says it in various ways - "do not repay evil with evil, but overcome evil with good" is one of them.

This is not some kind of high falutin' love. It's not made out of the warm fuzzy feelings we feel when we break bread with people we agree with and with whom we share a common enemy. No! This is about loving our enemies. OUR ENEMIES! Just a few short months ago there were days when it felt like Norah and Christian were enemies. They both wanted to drink from the same sippy cup; they fought over the same dump trunk; they wailed over having to take turns squirting Uncle Scott/Daddy with the hose. These problems were not solved by buying more cups, trucks and hoses. They resolved as they learned what it means to love one another.

I pray that the world might one day see through child-like eyes because love toddler-sized is a beautiful thing.

Estrangement

For decades I was afraid of anger. I didn't mind a little righteous indignation on behalf of another person now and again, but I would go to great lengths to not get angry with the people I loved. I excused, ignored, justified and rationalized bad behavior so long as the naughty person was someone I loved. It was exhausting.

I did not know that love and anger are companions; I had rarely witnessed anger as a normal response to loving one another. When we were first married Pete would sometimes express normal and appropriate anger. It would totally freak me out. He learned over the years to deal with his anger in ways that did not scare me, which basically meant trying to figure out how to handle conflict in ways I could tolerate - which was really unfair to him. We're lucky, I suppose, that we survived my anger-phobia. Getting angry is part and parcel of intimacy and love. Paul certainly knew that when he wrote in the book of Ephesians, "Be angry but do not sin...Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ as forgiven you." (Ephesians 4 and 5 is a good read.)

Anger is an emotion that is beneficial so long as we learn how to use it for good and not evil. It serves as a signal that we need to pay attention to something. Maybe there is a threat - or perhaps, a perceived threat that is actually no threat at all. Maybe anger is trying to teach us something we need to learn about ourselves - like, hypothetically speaking, we need a good therapist to help us sort through why anger freaks us out. Anger gets our body ready for a response. Often anger is just a good cover for fear. Whatever. They are both trying to get our attention.

Denying anger is the way I tried to cope; I can tell you, it is a short term solution if you're uncertain how to proceed but a lousy long term strategy for caring about yourself and others. Virtuous living is a beautiful thing - but no where is it considered a virtue to numb yourself from feeling your feelings.

As I said yesterday, Jesus is not trying to break people up but he does offer us ways to see and be in the world that allows for authentic human expressions of all kinds. Are there any emotional barriers between you ad your own authentic living?