Slow Transformations

The term “transformation” can be confusing.  It means a thorough and dramatic change but it’s not necessarily a sudden one. In fact most major changes are hard won, taking years of work and learning.

I walked across a stage and picked up a diploma, first for high school, then for college, then for grad school. But the ceremonies did not transform me. The changes came in the classrooms, in the library, in my living room chair where I read, and at my computer where I wrote. A business person may be recognized for a major achievement, however the award is not what made this person accomplished—it was in the doing, growing, and learning. Likewise, the athlete doesn’t suddenly become great when the Olympic medal is awarded but only after arduous years of practice and effort. 

You understand what I mean. Yet when it comes to matters of spirituality, many of us look for the quick change. We think major change is supposed to happen in a miraculous moment with a fast prayer or some other religious ceremony, or perhaps merely a return to church attendance. But change usually happens gradually, requiring much time in meditation, self examination, and study.  Learning, spiritual awareness, maturity, healing, virtuous living—these all take time and growth.    

On the day of Pentecost, we read that the wind blew, the flames rested over the disciple’s heads, and the Word was spoken in every language.  It all looked instantaneous, but Luke says that these events had been part of God’s plan from the beginning of time.  Pentecost was not a quick transformation, but rather an event marking the beginning of a new covenant with God.  And yet, even though this was the result of much preparation, it was also the beginning of another long growth process of the church, one in which we are still engaged.

Want big changes in your life? They begin with one step. But it is only a first step. 

Life is full of first steps.  

The Worth of a Penny

Yesterday, Dr. Walt pulled out a bunch of pennies to give out to the children during their time in the church service.  He’s done this before.  He takes an especially dull and worn coin and applies cleaning solution to it while speaking of the forgiveness of God. As he talks, the penny becomes clean and shiny, looking brand new. 

But this time, he had a different message.  He pointed out that some pennies were old, some were new, others were dirty, and others were shiny.  He said, “They may all look different, but they are each worth just as much as the others. Their value is the same.”

It’s a message we need even in this modern age where we still place differing values on persons based on race, income, looks, gender, etc. 

To add another twist, sometimes in our religion we focus on the sin, and we’ll designate a negative value on each other based on which sins are committed. We speak of ourselves as “miserable sinners,” and sing of how wretched we are, how undeserving of love, as if God is not very smart to care for us.  But in truth, even if we may not know why, God must think we are worth it.  Why else go to the trouble of redemption?

It’s important to see underneath the dullness and remember the shine is still there. Our value remains regardless of our sins and mistakes. 

Look to the Helpers

Once again, there has been a mass shooting in our country, this time in Orlando, Florida.  Over fifty people are dead and more than that are wounded. 

Once again, people will pick out small pieces of this story to use as fuel to feed their discussions on guns, religion, politics, and mental health issues.  They’ll will pick sides and argue with red faces, clinched fists, and increasingly stupid memes on facebook.  This time, discussion will also center on the LGBTQ community—and further wounds will be inflicted by words.    

We sink into these arguments because we feel helpless. 

But we’re not helpless. 

Fred Rogers, an ordained Presbyterian minister as well as the star of “Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood,”

once said that we should look to the helpers that rush to give aid at times like this. They remind us that there is hope in the world. 

Think of the police who ran toward danger to render aid, the fire and rescue people, the paramedics and EMTs, the nurses, aids, and doctors.  Then there were the counselors and ministers to care for the grieving. People lined up for a mile to give blood. Family and neighbors called one another to say, “Are you ok? How can I help?”  Stories of heroism are already being told where people helped each other while they were under fire. And all over the nation people knelt in prayer for the sake of the victims.  All these people are examples of nobility, bravery, and generosity. 

Let’s not shy away from the images of the people who have been harmed.  Think of those who cowered in a crowded room while shots were fired. Think of those who died, were wounded, and those who are now in the throes of sudden grief.  Think of those who are still shaking because they feared their loved one might have been killed. And let’s resist arguing with each other. 

Instead, let’s go to work and offer our help. 

Protective Fathers

I should save this for Father’s Day but these feelings are with me now, so I thought I’d share them even if it’s a little early. 

They entered the restaurant exhilarated: an older man carrying a small boy, a grandchild probably, his hand cradling the back of the child’s neck, their heads close enough to touch.  I surmised this was the first time ever that these two had ventured out just by themselves. Somewhere, I imagined, there was a houseful of relatives from which they had escaped. 

photo by David Mercer

They discussed their order at length, which was a complicated affair: Burgers or chicken nuggets? Fries?  Milk or soda? A chocolate shake instead? And which small toy to choose?  That task completed, they reached their table, where the man began to set out their meal. 

Then the boy darted away, I think in search for a restroom.  The man did a double take as he processed that his charge had vacated the vicinity.  I had been enjoying watching them, and when the boy took off, I kept my eyes on him until the man could catch up.  The boy turned a corner, and I saw another man come to attention to keep watch over him.  The old man scurried past, muttering about how fast the little guy could move. I pointed him in the right direction.  The second man also pointed. 

The old man caught up with him and they continued their outing. The other man and I relaxed our vigil and resumed our respective meals.

There was something significant about that moment when all three of us men, strangers to each other, shared guardianship over the child.  I have no doubt that each of us was a father, in the older man’s case a grandfather, because we each automatically slipped into the role of protector. It’s what we do for our children. And when necessary, we watch over each other’s children, too. 

Photo by David Mercer

My sons are grown and preparing to pursue their destinies.  Like that child, they will be darting away outside the range of my protection. I think they’re ready but I hope there are some dads out there who will lend a hand if I can’t be there. I’ll do the same for the young ones around here.

Presumably, one day my sons will become fathers, and the moment it happens they will understand me a little better. We will look into each other’s eyes and recognize the protective quality we share for the children. 

World Changers

I was thinking about how capable the people of our church are. We have lawyers, judges, teachers, doctors, nurses, dentists, businessmen, counselors, vocational professionals, and retired professionals, etc. Additionally, all of our people have abilities too unique to be categorized. Every civic and service group in town has United Methodists participating, offering their leadership and service. In every major community fundraiser, I see United Methodists participating.  Additionally, wherever there is major damage from natural or manmade disaster, you’ll see United Methodists among those who are helping.  Our motto for disaster cleanup is, “We’re the first ones in and the last ones out.” 

Our mission statement is, “to make disciples for the transformation of the world.” Our church is full of people who do that every day, who go out to serve, teach, heal, and render aid.  We make things better and we don’t stop at religious ritualism—we put our beliefs into practice.

A vibrant church equips its members to go out and do their best work. I think we forget that goal when we become overly concerned with self maintenance, if not self preservation.  I say all churches need to quit thinking of themselves and focus back on their mission, which is to make the world better and to make the kingdom of heaven remains accessible.

We come together to worship God and fortify each other with encouragement and healing. We study to know more about Christ and how to grow as disciples. We train the children to take on Christian values and help them to fully know their God.  And all these things equip us to serve Jesus’ purpose, which is to help and heal all people

United Methodists. We are world changers. 

I Am the Nerdy Healer!

When Jesus hung out with the drunks, prostitutes, and tax collectors, it doesn’t appear that he actively worked to change them.  In other words, I don’t think any preaching or teaching went on while they ate, drank, and danced--he just had a good time with them.

Was he criticized for being with them? Of course he was, but his answer to the criticism was that they needed him, so he was there for them. It wasn’t just his teaching or miracles or good example that affected them. They needed him because it is the presence of Jesus that is healing and restorative. For them, the eating, drinking, and dancing became the church activities that facilitated their being with Jesus.   

I wonder sometimes... was Jesus the life of every party.  You know, the fun guy toward whom everyone gravitated? I figure he was, considering his entertaining stories and personal popularity.  Yeah, he was probably cool. 

Not so with me.  I usually end up sitting on the periphery of these gatherings, watching, listening, and smiling, because I enjoy people. However, I never quite know how to participate in these settings, and sadly, people become a little uncomfortable about turning it loose in front of the pastor.  Occasionally a kind person will come over and speak to me for a moment, then wander back to the crowd.   

I’d like to be cooler, but wine gives me a headache and as I get older I become more and more the absent minded professor who isn’t well versed in pop references. I can’t dance and I listen to music that’s a little out of the mainstream, which is to say dull.  I don’t even follow sports.  No matter how hard I try, there’s just no changing the fact that I’m kind of a nerd. 

And that’s okay because in addition to the drunks, prostitutes, and tax collectors, Jesus loves nerds like me.  He sees the worth in all of us, and when I look through his eyes, I see more deeply the worth of each person, including myself. 

I don’t have to be exactly like Jesus, which is good because my personality is somewhat different. But I can be happy being me, and I can enjoy being with others, appreciating them just as they are.  And that makes me a kind of healer too, even if I am a nerd.

It Really Is Good News

Gospel, which means Good News, is a term found often in the synoptic gospels and the book of Acts. 

When I was growing up, I had a narrow understanding of the term which consisted of the story of Jesus’ arrest, crucifixion, and resurrection.  It also included the process of claiming the assurance of salvation. While I do not discount those things, I’ve come to realize there was more to Jesus’ good news. 

The good news is that God is not the vengeful, warlike entity that we might understand from earlier writings, but rather more like the doting, overindulgent father of the tale of “The Prodigal Son.”  Or he’s the shepherd who loses all perspective and leaves everything to find the one lost sheep. 

The good news is that God is the Great Physician who looks at sinfulness and sees it as sickness which he can cure.  He repairs, restores, and revives us rather than rejecting us if we don’t measure up. 

The good news is that the kingdom of God has different values than other kingdoms. In God’s kingdom the first are last and the last are first, the poor are more important than the rich, the weak are honored over the strong, and the children get more attention than the adults. Furthermore, though it may honor the weak, the kingdom of God is stronger than any earthly kingdom.  It continues to advance, cannot be destroyed, and will last forever. 

The story of the cross is about atonement, but it is also about triumph where evil is overcome with good, darkness is overcome by light, and death is defeated by life. 

As we celebrate Holy Week, let’s remember the full blessing of the Good News.  

Tone Deaf

A lot of people tell me that they are tone deaf and can’t sing.

Now wait… don’t tell me you’re one of those people. Just keep reading. 

Virtually no one is tone deaf. Argue if you want, but it’s true. When you discern when to shift the gear in your car, it’s because you can hear a difference in sound. If you’re a mother and can tell whether you’re baby’s cry is from fatigue or pain, you can discern pitch. 

If you were tone deaf, you wouldn’t have music preferences. One station on the radio would be the same as the other, and you wouldn’t sing along with the radio in your car, but you do because you enjoy what you’re hearing. And that proves you’re not tone deaf. It also proves that you can sing.  Most of us just need some training so we can identify what we are hearing. 

About my supposedly nonmusical friends, I’ve observed that at some point in their early lives, someone criticized their singing, usually a parent or a teacher. So they just quit.  I often challenge them: Do you mean to tell me that when you were a child, you made a decision for life based on what one person said? 

They did indeed. And it bothers me because singing is not so much about performance—sure there are those who perform and perhaps they have some special ability and training. But for most of us, singing is about expression. How much of one’s soul is diminished because they’re too scared to sing? And how much have we missed because we didn’t hear the song of another’s heart?

I like to hear the children sing before they’ve been told they can’t. I like hearing the babies sing before they can even form words. I like to hear the toddlers who make up their songs on the spot.  I think of the children who sang about Jesus in the temple before the adults could make them be quiet.

What wonders would we hear if people were just a little less afraid to express themselves?

The thought makes me remember to be very careful about criticizing another’s expression. 

Thoughts on Matthew 4:1-11, When Jesus Was Tempted

"Command these stones to turn to bread.”

It seems like a pretty good idea, plus it would be a good marketing strategy. Jesus could tell the crowds, “I’m hungry, you’re hungry… let’s have dinner and have a nice chat about your souls.”

In fact, Jesus did feed crowds of people miraculously with loaves and fishes, and it made him popular, as did his power to heal the sick.  And it was all good—it just wasn’t good enough, and the crowds faded when food was gone, which Jesus knew would happen.

Jesus' reply to Satan was actually a statement to us:  “One does not live by bread alone but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.”

Filling the stomach does not necessarily feed the soul. Oh, it’s pretty crucial when you don’t have any, but many of us have more than enough; to the point where we have to struggle to keep the weight down. Yet even when there’s plenty of food, we can feel lonely, empty, and unhappy.

For that matter, wealth doesn’t spare us from misery, and neither does excitement and entertainment (although I would like to have seen Jesus jump off a cliff and fly around). 

Jesus wanted to put us in touch with God, so we could find true satisfaction.

When I think of the word of God, I don’t think of a written page. Instead, I imagine the Father sitting close beside me, speaking into my ear, the words pouring directly into my heart, filling me up in a way that makes me calm and whole.

Perhaps the purpose of fasting is to remove distraction so we can focus fully on that word from God. 

The True Nativity Scene

The following was one of the readings I wrote for the Christmas Eve Service

The Prince of Peace was not born in a palace. He had no soft blankets against his skin. There were no relatives cooing and demanding that they be the next one to hold him. 

We understand that he was born to a poor family, but perhaps we don’t realize how poor. Most of us imagine the nativity scene like this:  

Look again at Luke’s account of Christ’s birth and you’ll see there is no mention of a barn or a stable. There were no cute animals lying sedately in sweet smelling straw.  There’s not even mention of the donkey for Mary to ride.

Mary and Joseph were far from home, away from any family or friends. When it says there was no room in the inn, it means they were outside in the cold night. There was no emergency shelter, no public housing, no hospital constrained by law to accept her, even if she had no money. 

They simply found a vacant place on the ground for her to deliver her baby. And because she would have been too weak to hold him, they put him in the nearest container—one of those feed troughs to which we have assigned the quaint name, manger.  And they found some old rags to wrap around the child to protect him from exposure.  

 

It’s a miracle anyone survives such conditions, but some do. On this night, they did. 

This was the scene that made the angels sing. This was what the shepherds found when they searched for him.  This is the baby who grew up to heal the sick, feed the hungry, and speak powerful words that still move our hearts.    

This is the birth we celebrate. 

The Way of the Disciple

When we think of being disciples for Christ, we think of going to church more often and making a sincere effort to act nicer.  Additionally, we are to make other disciples who will come to our church. 

That’s all good, but it’s missing the point of discipleship. 

When Jesus sent his people out to do his work, he didn’t talk about church attendance or looking respectable.  Instead he told them to focus on helping people get better. Take another look at the first few verses of Matthew 10 and consider the ambition behind his instruction:

*Heal the sick.

*Make them clean (touch the lepers and heal them).

*Give them peace

*Raise people from the dead--make them alive again.

*Give generously—throw yourself into the task.

*Don’t worry about where you’ll get the money—just do it. 

“Tell them the kingdom of heaven is near,” he said.  In other words, there is a new way to live and a new world to live in, where people can have enough to eat, and to be healed, and feel alive again. Tell them that we can have a world where love has transcended laws, and we can reach out to touch God. 

I believe Jesus meant for those things to happen right now, not sometime later in the next life. He has not given up on this world. He intends for things to be made better now, and he means for us to help him make it that way.

Discipleship is not about living a quiet decent life. It’s not about being a good example by showing how often you go to church. It’s about looking squarely in the face of the suffering of this world and throwing ourselves in the task of making it better. 

Then one day, we will stand before Jesus and he will say, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”  

Team Jesus

Jesus enlisted the aid of his disciples in his work. When he performed the miracle of feeding the crowds, he had the disciples go out and find what food there was, and then he had them pass it out. I marvel that they got to be part of the miracle of where a few loaves and fish became more than enough to feed five thousand.

There were other things.  Jesus wanted them to pray with him. He also had them preach, heal, and cast out demons with him. 

You could say that discipleship is being part of “Team Jesus” where he is the captain, but everyone participates.  Everyone gives valuable effort to bring positive results.

Disciples don’t just work for Jesus, they work with him.  In effect, Jesus, the Son of God, was saying, “I couldn’t do it without you,” which is a huge honor, but it carries with it responsibility for which we should have a sense of duty.   

When a church focuses on keeping itself alive, it is for the purpose of continuing to participate in Christ’s work. It is not to preserve our memories. It is not so we can continue to keep our friendships. It is not to have a place where we can go to feel good.  It is to reach out with our hands and our hearts and help those who are suffering, unhappy, scared, sick, and lost.

Any church that does not keep the mission of Christ firmly in mind will end up closing its doors. But if we exist to serve Christ’s purpose, we will continue to be vital.

How about it? Want to be a part of Team Jesus?

Unity and Disagreement

One of our Sunday school classes recently studied parts of the United Methodist Book of Resolutions, which articulates the UMC’s position on various political and social issues pertaining to our faith.  In class, there was often disagreement expressed about some of the UMC’s positions.  And that’s okay.  Many decisions are made in the general conference with a thin margin on the majority’s side. Afterward, people are welcome to continue to voice their dissent and hopefully the discussion continues with civility. Some decisions are revisited every four years.

When there is a heated disagreement where sizable portion of the membership differ with the majority, it is tempting for the “winning side” to say, “This is what we voted on. Now be a good Methodist and go along with it.” 

This is a mistake. We don’t tell people what to think. We don’t tell them to be quiet. We can’t force them to cooperate. And we won’t say, “If you don’t like it, there’s the road.”

Making resolutions gives us direction and enables us to act. But the discussion is ongoing, especially in the areas of controversy, such as ecology, poverty, human sexuality, involvement in government, etc. 

When I first considered joining the UMC, one of the things that made me want to join is how they are willing to grapple with the hard topics, often before anyone else will. Methodists were some of the first ones to call for slavery to be abolished. Methodists recognized how alcoholism was causing so much havoc in families, and they called for action.

So of course there is going to be sharp disagreement at times.

I like it. In many churches, people are required to have only one set of thoughts where no diversity is allowed. But in Methodism, there’s true unity, where you get to have your thoughts and you get to express them and be heard, even if you’re in the minority.

Come to the Party

In the parable of the prodigal son, the story ends with the older brother standing outside the house seething as the people have their party.  He’s mad at the people, his little brother, and his father.

This is the end of a series of parables that Jesus used to address Pharisees and teachers who resented his going to parties with the tax collectors and prostitutes. Usually, when I read about that older brother, I find myself contemptuous of him. But Jesus was not trying to lead us to contempt. Look at the story again, and you see the father begging his son to come in, to be a part of the celebration.

Likewise, Jesus was not condemning the onlookers. He was asking them to join the party.  This is an interesting concept. He’s not angry with the self righteous. He’s not telling them to shut up and go away. He wants them come be a part of the joy.

It was hard for them. They wanted to shut the party down which was not going to happen. However, they could join if they wanted.

Question: Do I want to make my world a highly controlled (and joyless) place or can I lay aside my selfish desires and join the party that’s already in progress?

Which Mountain Are You Climbing?

Which Mountain Are You Climbing? 

In Hebrews 12:18-24, the writer summons images of two different mountains for the reader to consider.  

First, there is Sinai, the dark forbidding mountain on which the Ten Commandments were written. Remember how there was thunder and lightning, how the ground shook at the sound of God’s voice? The people were afraid and they knew if they touched even the foot of the mountain, they would die.

And yet that fear and dread did not keep the Israelites from straying. Right there in the shadow of the dark mountain, they made a golden calf--something smaller, prettier,  less frightening to worship.

Anxiety over an angry God and fear of punishment--these things do not  inspire virtue. They never have.  Yet, many of us still see the God of Mt. Sinai and we try to scare ourselves and others into living right. How well is that working for us?

Check around the house to see if you have anything equivalent to a golden calf.  

The writer told us to put aside the image of Sinai and focus on Zion, the beautiful city of Jerusalem set on a hill.  The Jews thought of Zion and it made them think of home, a place where they could reside fully with each other and with God.  Rather than avoiding it, they went to it, singing joyous hymns along the way, celebrating that they could go home and be free.  

Zion became our metaphor for heaven, the home we are headed for, where all will be made right, and we’ll be with the God who is lovely and healing.   

Zion is the image that allows us to endure difficulties and avoid temptation. Zion inspires us to persevere. Zion cheers us when we’re weary. It’s what puts a song of praise in our hearts as we make our journey.  

Which mountain are you climbing?  

The Touching Spirit

The city I visited was very nice. Beautiful scenery. The helping staff at the hotel and the restaurants were nice and went out of their way to be helpful and polite.  But the customers were a different matter. I saw people scream at staff members on two occasion, simply, I assume because they could get away with it.  Not cool.

I went walking every morning in perfect weather amidst beautiful landscaping with tall fir trees and lovely flowers of every hue.  Lots of other people did too.  But none of them looked at me, much less said hello like we do here in Oklahoma.  I’m glad to be back.

Around here, when I encounter someone who looks down and stays quiet, I assume something might be wrong, so I make sure to catch their eye and say, “Hi, how are you?” Because I really want to know.  

At church, I hug, pat shoulders, or shake hands with everyone I encounter. It’s partly me. I’m a toucher.  It’s also them--most people need a touch. Sometimes a person doesn’t want to be touched. It’s not hard to tell, and I respect that, but most people like the contact.  

Jesus was a toucher. He could have healed every sick person he encountered with a word, or a blink, or even a thought. But usually he touched them, even the lepers. Especially the lepers.  

We come to church for the contact with each other as well as with God.  We could stay home to worship. We can turn on the TV to hear some preaching and listen to music, and for some, by necessity, that has to suffice.  But there’s something healing about the physical company of others. It’s allows for a fuller experience of the Holy Spirit’s presence.   

Everywhere we go, we have the chance to heal or to harm. We can bless or we can curse.  I opt for blessing when I can. I try to avoid hurting others and I hope others do to.  But I hate being ignored and I hate ignoring anyone who crosses my path, whether it be on a walk, at the hotel, or on a plane.  

Or at church.  

To Bless and To Heal

A couple years ago, at the OKC Art Museum, we saw an exhibit of works done by artists commissioned by the WPA during the days of the Great Depression. I was surprised at their quality and moved by the stories they told.  

There was one piece that I found quite unpleasant but now I can’t forget of an old woman peeling potatoes. It was a dark image, almost silhouetted, but I could see her hands were covered with wounds she had sustained over the years from her arduous work. The artist showed them as if the wounds had never healed but stayed fresh, with more added each year.  Her face was the same way.  

The artist wanted us to remember that period of history and not get over it quickly because the people of our past suffered in part to give us our present and future.

I get the message. It’s important.  But I’m a minister and I want people to get better.

I wanted to reach into the canvass to take the wounded hands of that woman. I wanted to place my palms on her cheeks and kiss her scarred forehead. I wanted to tell her she was not alone, that she was loved, and that her work and life was important.  

It’s impossible to do that to the woman in the picture. It’s pretty hard to convey a blessing of worth to each other in the present time. But surely it’s not impossible.  

Time With Jesus

“A woman named Martha welcomed him (Jesus) into her home. She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying. But Martha was distracted by many tasks; so she came to him and asked, ‘Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do all the work myself? Tell her then to help me.”

But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted about many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.” (Luke 10:38-42). 

Time with Jesus. Essentially, when Jesus spoke to Martha, he said, “this is what Mary wants so this is what she gets, and no one will be taking it away from her.” 

When I read this story, the questions I take away are, “What exactly was this gift? Can I have it too? And what would it look like? 

Is it only his words in the Bible? That’s good and more people ought to do that, but is that all? Isn't there some way I can actually spend time with the actual presence of Christ?

You know, I have a list of people that I want to simply spend time with. Not do something with, just BE with. Special ones—family and friends, and those I would like to get to know. And since I’m dreaming I think of people in the past. And then people of the future—generations of children who have yet to arrive on the scene.

I want to sit and talk. Ask questions. Share thoughts. I want to give and receive encouragement. I want to talk about my dreams and hear theirs. And I want to put my arms around them—if they’d let me. 

That’s what I wish for when I think of spending time with Jesus. I don’t want just words on a page. I want the real thing, to sit near him, hear his words to me, have him listen to me, to hear that he loves me, to exchange hugs with him. You know, actually BE with Jesus. 

Is Jesus saying I could have this and be secure that it would not be taken away? And how do I claim it? Is it really a matter to setting aside my other concerns and focusing on him? That’s not so easy, but it’s not impossible. Could it be… simple? 

I guess we could work on it and see. But to be honest, it hasn't seemed all that simple.