A Voice in My Head

I had coffee yesterday in Phoenix with a voice in my head.  You know what I mean? Some voices need to be ignored or understood or somehow resolved. But other voices provide guidance, support and encouragement for the spiritual journey.
I have a number of those mentor voices. It was good to share conversation with Tex Sample ... a retired professor from Saint Paul School of Theology who was on my doctoral commitee.  Tex nicknamed me "Jimmy Zen" ... which made some sense 35 years ago.  Tex had his seventy-fifth birthday this week but the conversation was about his current reading list and writing projects along with sharing about family, "conference gossip", etc.
A mentor doesn't intimidate but inspires. Tex and I don't always agree but his dedication to learning and research; his personal integrity and his commitment to excellence (whether it is understanding the best way to interpret Wesley and Paul or to play ball) ... all of this simply makes me want to do and be better.
Tex's approach to credo conference or a doctoral conference was to ask the theological  equivalent of a high hard fastball ... giving the student a chance to hit a home run.  In my doctoral conference (remember,  Tex is a sociologist) he asked: Jim, you make extensive use of John Wesley and Carl Jung. What are the philosophical connections in the way you use those resources? My response was honest but inadequate.
I thank God for the voices in my head who remind me of the love of Jesus and the claims of the Gospel and provide a vivid incarnational model for how to live faithfully.

Keeping Watch

I woke up early thinking about Peggy's son and our first grandchild whose birthday will be Christmas Eve. Mom and dad were at the hospital last night. Occasional text messages kept us updated on progress (or the lack thereof). Peggy didn't want to come to bed ... preferring to stay up and keep watch over events in Phoenix.
My waking thoughts were of this new baby and another child born long ago in Bethlehem.  Tonight we will read about shepherds keeping watch over their flocks by night. Our children's Christmas pageants belie the central role of shepherds as protectors (of their flocks and perhaps the baby Jesus).
For Peggy keeping watch was an act of prayerful presence. A mother keeping another mother and son in her heart. Years later Jesus asked his friends to keep watch ... more as presence than protection.
Lord, protect this child and his parents. Wrap them in your love and mercy. Glory to God in the highest heaven and on earth peace ...

Savor

Peggy and I recently visited a candle shop in Brookside. The small room is filled with freshly made aromatic candles of many shapes and scents.  Although I was hoping for a short visit, I soon found myself lifting one candle after another to my nose ... sniffing the fragrance ... amazed by the variety. But soon my sniffer was overwhelmed by the choices. It became increasingly difficult to distinguish between the scents.
Discernment of spirits is akin to deciding on a candle. Discernment is less about good or bad/right or wrong and more about settling on a direction among multiple faithful choices. The Holy is present all around us. The leading of the Lord requires us to discern a path among many.
A favorite passage from the Psalms is: O taste, and see that the Lord is good.  Ps. 34:8 In the rest of this sacred season, I aim to focus on a scent at a time ... to savor the distinct flavors ... to delight in particular moments and persons.
God chose to reveal the fullness of divine character and purpose in a particular life and person, Jesus. If we will watch and listen we can distinguish the imago dei within each other.
Praise God from whom all blessings flow ...

Light in the Darkness

It is a bitterly cold snowy morning. I am reading Dr. Nancy Copeland-Payton's new book, The Losses of Our Lives. She writes of our yearning for the breath, light and love of God:
In the beginning God exhales in the darkness of a not-yet cosmos. Divine breath sends matter expanding outward to form the universe. But this is not a singular event. Sacred wind persists in sweeping over the waters of each not-yet moment.
In this divine out-breathing, we are created in sacred love. And in the way of creatures, we are conceived in human love. Love is deep-woven into our developing bones and sinews, our emergent mind and heart, from the beginning. If anything is our birthright, it is love.
Is this the root of our yearning? Do we long for the One who breathes us into life? Deep within our being, do we ache for our sacred birthright of love? ... Our small human voices call into life's darkening nights for the One we've lost. It is this birthright love, this first unconscious experience of divine love that echoes faintly for the three-year-old girl as she gazes on her newborn brother. "Tell me about God, I've almost forgotten," she whispers to the tiny baby boy.
O come, let us adore him.

Rest Along the Way

Some time ago I read an article about a site near Bethlehem where Mary and Joseph supposedly stopped on their journey to the City of David. For centuries it was a place of worship venerated by Christians and also Muslims.
Mary needed to stop and rest along the way to Bethlehem. I am acutely aware of the weariness of so many this season. While this year is no busier than another I believe that people are worn down with worry. We are anxious about an uncertain future. Our patience may be thinner; our boundaries less clear; and choice of words less care-full.
I write on a Saturday/sabbath morning that will be full from early to late with preparations for the Lord's Day and this sacred season. I pray for moments of refreshment where we nurture each other with the lovingkindness of the Lord.
Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy.

An Advent Faith

I have an advent faith. I seem to be looking for the new thing the Lord is doing in my life and the world. I have a sense that God's future engages our past in the present moment creating the opportunity for change. So we always have hope!
For a long time my advent orientation led me to look beyond this world but the Christmas story reminds us of the Lord's commitment of love to this life and creation. The Word became flesh.  Even Easter is about God's aim and intention. Moltmann referred to the resurrection of Jesus Christ as the radiance of the imminent dawn. The promise of Christmas and Easter is a new heaven and a new earth in which the things of this life will not be lost but transformed.
Each new day is a gift that holds promise and hope. The love of Jesus rises to meet us.  The Spirit leads us to the verge ...

Three Things

This morning I'm thinking about a message to share with the children this Sunday ... a message I repeat from time to time and try to remember daily. Faithfulness in our daily routines require us to remember and practice three things: to say "thank you", "I'm sorry", and "I love you".
People need affirmation.  So many struggle with tough burdens. We need to thank each other for the many gifts of grace that accompany daily life. We are God's gifts each to the other. Let us give thanks for our gifts and blessings.
People mess up.  We make mistakes. We hurt and betray and neglect each other. It is important to confess our sins ... saying to each other and the Lord: I'm sorry. A truckload of grace is needed for families or communities to make it through each new day.
I remember an old pastor counseling: Don't ever let a day pass without saying "I love you". Declaring our love reconnects us with the One who has loved us so well in Christ Jesus.
Of course there are other sets of three things.  John Wesley's General Rule that Bishop Job has articulated to well: do no harm; do good; and stay in love with God.
The prophet Micah offered another: to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God.
This stream of trinities leads me to affirm that it all be done in the name of God: Father/Son/Holy Spirit ... Creator/Redeemer/Sustainer. Amen.

Letting Go

Our decision to go to Arkansas last week included a faint hope that we might experience the last vestiges of autumn color. Actually there were more leaves and color in Independence than northwest AR. One of prettiest trees whose leaves continue to cling is just outside Watson Memorial Chapel at CUMC. It is a lovely oak with yellow leaves which seem to resist the wind of seasonal change and hang on for dear life.
Several years ago I stopped for a sandwich in Sedalia, MO. While eating and making a couple of calls I was looking across the street at a gorgeous maple tree with magnficent red leaves.  To my amazement the leaves began to fall ... first a few ... then as if by agreement ... nearly all the leaves floated to the lawn creating an amazing crimson carpet. There was no strong wind. There was simple gracious release.
I visited with someone recently who prayed for just such a simple gracious release from this life.
O Lord, I seek the strength to cling tenaciously to your way and will along with the grace to let go and follow the flow of your Spirit from one season to the next. Amen.

I don't get it!

I confess I don't know much about economics.  I recall a professor saying something like: "If people have faith in the monetary system, it will work.  If they don't, it won't." That sums it up fairly well for me.
What I really don't understand is why the stock market goes up at the same time unemployment rises. If more people are out of work why would the value of companies increase? The answer is fairly simple, I guess: Companies are making more money with fewer employees which means productivity has increased. Productivity and efficiency are good.  I am not in favor of featherbedding. But let's not confuse any of this with the Gospel.
Jesus upset his disciples (Matthew 26) by allowing a woman to anoint him with an expensive oil. To those who objected that the oil could have been converted to cash for the poor, Jesus responded by quoting Deuteronomy 15: ... you always have the poor with you.  Deuteronomy 15 challenges the notion that productivity is the first priority of a culture's economy. This chapter insists that lenders have a responsibility to not be hard-hearted [every seventh year you shall grant a remission of debts] and that the community is responsible for caring for the poor [open your hand to the poor and needy neighbor in your land]. The Law mandates a sabbatical year or year of release in which loans are forgiven. The Law demands a portion be set aside for those in need and for the Lord.
It will be good when people are able to start spending again. But our first fruits of our efforts should be for those in need and the purposes of the Gospel and the Lord.

Pea Ridge

On this Veteran's Day I give thanks for the service and sacrifice of so many men, women and their families. The past eight years have brought tremendous struggle for our military as they have adapted to new challenges.
Last Saturday, as Peggy went to the baby shower (guys were not included), I toured the military battlefield at Pea Ridge, AR. In March, 1862, a significant battle effectively secured Missouri for the Union. Among the major battles west of the Mississippi, Pea Ridge provides a study in choices. The Confederate commander was positioned for a major victory but moved his troops without allowing for adequate provisions and supplies. When two of his generals were struck down in battle, no one stepped forward to assume leadership. Those choices brought major consequences.
Southwest of Pea Ridge is the town of Bentonville. In the center of the square is a fountain and statue dedicated to the memory of Confederate soldiers. One of the shops across from the monument is Walton's 5&10. This store (now a musem) was the beginning of the Walmart retailing empire.
Neither Pea Ridge nor Bentonville are on the main road to anywhere, yet plans and decisions in this region have impacted the country and the world. I am reminded that the Lord works most creatively around the edges and among the marginal.  Places like Bethlehem and Nazareth. Perhaps even in places where we live and work.
We offer to the Lord who we are and what we have and trust in God's grace-filled purposes.

Choose Life

I've been praying for the folks at Ft. Hood in the aftermath of the terrifying killings. Already the challenges stretch those families too far and now this grief and fear.
A memory emerges of a woman whose husband was posted at Ft. Hood. A young mother whose child was sick ... she was ovewhelmed by all of it: the heat, the incessant crying of her baby, the strange surroundings of a new military culture. One night she climbed on the roof of their base housing and wept in despair. She wanted to run away. She wanted to end it all. She wanted to do so many things. But she chose to climb down, go back in the house and hold her baby.
So many people face unacceptable challenges with faith, hope and love. Thank God for their witness.
I call heaven and earth to witness against you today that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life ... Deuteronomy 30: 19

Peggy's Chocolate Chip Cookies

Later today we drive to Fayetteville, Arkansas, for a baby shower. Two of Peggy's sons will present us with grandchildren this winter and we rejoice in this new season in our life!
Every culture develops rituals to signify and celebrate life events (birth, marriage, baptism, graduation, death, etc). Part of this weekend will include getting better acquainted with the in-laws. As they offer us hospitality we plan to respond with some host/hostess gifts. Simple hospitality rituals of sharing/gifting are among the nicer expressions of our imago dei.
Among our plans are to give Peggy's cookies.  You need to understand that Peggy makes the best chocolate chip cookies in the world. I realize this is an extreme claim but has your wife's publisher stolen her cookie cookbook and advertised it in Oprah's magazine? (I rest my case.) People gush over Peggy's cookies. Couples fight over Peggy's cookies. Parents hide Peggy's cookies from their children.
She doesn't bake often. Mostly this is because it takes a great deal of time and attention. Peggy has finally learned exactly which pan to use in our house's oven. The cookies bake for exactly 13 minutes and then sit on the counter for exactly 5 more minutes before being placed on the parchment paper. I'm not sure if she only cooks in a certain phase of the moon ... but she is delightfully attentive to detail and the result is a blessing.
That's the point of hospitality, isn't it?  To bless. The blessing of this new child's life seems to demand Peggy's cookies.  :-)

Remember to Pay Attention

I believe there are two basic spiritual disciplines. First is to remember daily  the One who is the source of life, light and love. Remembering should be easy and natural. Truth is we are easily distracted. I recall Steve Sjogren explaining why he talked about his church's mission every week. He said something like: God is really smart.  The Lord understands that we can only remember something for a short time. So we worship weekly to remind us of what is important.
The second discipline (once we've remembered) is to pay attention. Most of our practices simply remind us and provide ways to be attentive to the presence and power of the One who knows each of us by name.
My daughter, Catherine, gifted me with an introduction to a poet, Denise Levertov, who wrote about all this.

Flickering Mind - Denise Levertov

Not for one second
will myself hold still, but wanders
anywhere,
everywhere it can turn. Not you,
it is I am absent.
You are the stream, the fish, the light,
the pulsing shadow,
you the unchanging presence, in whom all
moves and changes.
How can I focus my flickering, perceive
at the fountain's heart
the sapphire I know is there?

I Wish the Bishop Were Here

Last summer while walking around Maramec Springs the birds were especially joyful in their greeting of the day.  Usually I am aware of the birdsongs but more as background to the flow of the water, the fish and whatever issue I am working on that day.
On this morning the birds demanded my attention. Being more visual than auditory, I was frustrated trying to find and identify the birds.  I found myself wishing that my Bishop, Robert Schnase, was with me.  Bishop Schnase is an avid bird watcher.  He could teach me how to listen and observe the birds in the canopy of beautiful trees surrounding the springs.
Life is kaleidoscopic. If we shift our attention to another dimension we often are blessed with fresh insights, perspectives and experiences of God's presence and grace. It also helps to have a coach or companion to guide us through the blessings or challenges of that new dimension of faith experience.
Lord, help me pay attention to your presence in the midst of this day ... and accept the guidance and wisdom of my companions on the journey. Amen.

Meramac Mornings

Morning Worship

Watching people gather
to fish
reminds me of the community
coming for worship.
A few settle into the pew
to prayerfully prepare

    Silently now I wait for thee
    Ready my God, Thy will to see

Most are talking
greeting family or friends
Others focus on the ligatures
of liturgy

     This is the day the Lord has made
     Let us rejoice and be glad in it

Maramec Morning

they gather quietly

each seeking a place

along the river bank

or in the current

some tinker with hooks and lures

others wait expectantly

listening for the signal

for fishing to begin

a siren's wail

shatters the morning silence ...

then a whispered whoosh

of casting lines ...

watch out -- fish!

Selling Water by the River

One of the nice things that churches do is give away bottled water during hot summer months. Some congregations put labels that invite people to share in their congregation's ministry.

One of the stranger things that Christians do is try to bottle the water of life with denominational labels. In my library is a book left over from my Zen period. It is a training manual from a Zen monastery titled Selling Water by the River. Sometimes I reflect on rows of churches [like those along 39th St in Independence or thousands of other streets across America] as little kiosks set up along the river of the water of life ... trying to label and sell what is obviously available for free! I guess we each believe that we have a flavor or additive that somehow improves the grace of God! [I've thought of some fun labels: Robert Schuler's Orange County Soda; Jimmy Swaggert's Lake of Fire; an emergent always fresh/never recycled; Saddleback's Useful; Willow Creek's Each Time Like the First Time; of course my own Methodist/Always Lukewarm.]

I understand the need and desire to hold, contain, or understand something. Years ago in Israel I bought several little ceramic bottles of water from Jacob's Well. For $2 it seemed a nice sacramental reminder of ancient history along with my visit. You could hear the water swishing in the little clay pot. The cork was sealed with wax.  Oddly enough ... even though the bottle was sealed ... the water evaporated before I returned to America. The bottle (wax seal intact) sits in my office as a gentle echo of Jesus encounter with the Samaritan woman at Jacob's well ... and his encouragement to drink from well-springs that will truly quench our thirst.

psalm 42

In June, 1974, I skipped lunch and found my way to the garden next to the seminary chapel. While our class on death and dying had listened the the powerful music of Leonard Bernstein's "Kaddish" (in memory of John F. Kennedy), I found myself sinking into a spiritual abyss ... with an awful sense of being alone, abandoned and submerged into darkness.  In the garden, I read Psalm 42: As a deer longs for flowing streams, so my soul longs for you O God ... The prayer poem expressed the deepest yearnings of my life. Then I began reading Mark's account of Jesus' crucifixion. Gently, quietly a sense of awareness and assurance emerged that what happened on the cross was intimately connected to my life and that Jesus Christ is risen!

I wish I could say that sense of assurance completely quenched the thirsting of my soul. It has taken over 30 years to realize that the promise of streams of living water are not symbolic promises but rather the clearest truth of Creation. Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city. ... And he said to me, "These words are trustworthy and true ..." Rev. 22: 1, 6

Boyhood visits to my grandparent's farm featured drinks of cool, fresh water drawn from a well and dipped out of a galvanized bucket on the back porch. The water was clear, cold and delicious on hot summer afternoons. Once my grandfather invited us to point a small tree branch toward the ground to search for the stream of water that fed the well and emerged near the creek that ran through the farm. With amazing, mysterious power I felt the branch pull my hands toward the earth! A small four inch wide channel was tracked by the tugging of the branch.
Little did I know my life would become a search for streams of living water flowing deep within me and through my life. Years would pass before I understood the truth of Jesus promise: The water I give will be an artesian spring within, gushing fountains of endless life. John 4: 14 MSG