True Friends

Last night we were able to get together with some good friends, today we will say good bye to some good friends, tomorrow we will get to worship with some good friends, and then there are some good friends we have not seen in years, will not see in years, and some we will not see in this life time.

At our church there is a phrase: "true friends in Christ."  It is a way to express the biblical idea of spiritual siblings.    Jesus is the bond which can extend our family.  When we are adopted as God's children (Ephesians 1:3-6), we have one Father, and Jesus is our brother, and we are a family.  In this we can have friendships of another kind.  We can be "true friends in Christ."

What does this mean for me personally?
There are those who say a pastor should not have close friendships within their congregation, and while there is great worldly wisdom in this, and it does simplify things greatly - I can't personally imagine it.  How can I not form deep, mutually supportive friendships with the siblings I spend the most time with?  Was there a friendship between Jesus and the disciples - it feels that way.  And as troublesome as this might be, Jesus had an inner circle of those who he spent more time with, trusted on a deeper level, laughed with harder and cried with more easily.

I so value the true friends in Christ in my life.  Those I spend time with weekly, and those who I must wait until death to reunite with.  The bonds within families are often messy, but they are also so very rich.  This is true with my biological family, and even more so with my spiritual one.

Life is Complex

In reading a reflection on Luke 9:57-62 the complexity of life hit me yet again.  On some levels it is true that following Jesus "is simple, but not easy."  But it is not easy because actually living out the simple is very complex.
Simple ideas do not equal simple decisions.

Simple Idea - take care of the poor.
          Complex Decisions - why are they poor, what do they really need, do you give until you are poor?
Simple Idea - if someone is in need, help them.
          Complex Decisions - which of the billions of people do you help, what if they don't understand their true needs, who am I to think I might have a clue what their true needs are?
Simple Idea - don't have more than you need
          Complex Decisions - I need food, shelter and relationship.  That is all we really need, yet even those who take a vow of poverty draw a line somewhere beyond this - so where does one draw the line?  What do I need to minister in my context?  Are these actually necessary to effectively minister in a suburban context or is it just rationalization to have things I want?  What's good for my family and mental health?

And then this morning I struggle with the larger complexities of life.  A family, one of the most amazing young families I know, who is hit with hard time after hard time.  They love God deeply, love each other beautifully, serve others graciously, make the world a better place, yet I have seen few families deal with as many hardships as they.  It isn't how it is supposed to work.  How come I see others receive blessing after blessing, yet not this family?  I want God to give them simple beautiful blessings!

But
If life were simple, where would the trust in God be?
If life were simple, where would the thought and choice be?
If life were simple, where would the nuanced beauty be?
If life were simple, would it really be life?

Life is not simple.  There are simple truths which combine to make a very complex life.  In the complexity we find the passion, the beauty, the power - in the complexity we find God.

Lent - what to give up?

People give up things for Lent.  A family at church is giving up meat, Jen is giving up coffee, others give up chips, sweets, or other desirable things to heighten the time of preparation before Easter.  40 days - what to give up...what to gain?

I have a problem with this.  Not that I don't think people should fast from something during Lent, it is a great practice, but the problem is me.  I have a hard time determining what to give up.  My wonderings this morning take me to birthdays and Christmas.  It is hard to buy for me because, for the most part, if there is something I desire, I buy it.  I don't want much which can be put in a box, but if I'm in need of a new shirt, I typically don't wait for someone to give it to me.   Sometimes I remember that my wife is trying to figure out what to get me and purposely don't buy something which can later be given - but more often than not, I take care of it as the need arises.

I'm wondering if this is a slice of my Lenten dilemma?  If there is something which is controlling my life, I've probably already dealt with it (or I'm in denial about it and won't consider it for Lent).  I'm not inclined to wait for a special season... but then again, maybe I shouldn't dismiss it so quickly.  I am truly thankful for any gift I'm given for a birthday or Christmas, and some of those gifts have become treasures.  What gift does God have for me this Lent?

"Rend your heart and not your garments.
Now return to the LORD your God, 
For He is gracious and compassionate, 
Slow to anger, abounding in lovingkindness"
Joel 2:13

No School Christmas Party

It seemed wrong to do.  Should we really be encouraging our son to skip the fun and games of a 2nd graders last day before Christmas vacation? However, once the day was underway, it struck me of just how many simple decisions shape who our kids will be for years to come.  And how often those decision are shaped by the expectations of our community, rather than a thoughtful consideration of who we want our children to be.

I enter into a topic like this with some fearful trepidation.  I have seen enough to know there is no simple formula for parenting, and have no delusions that I have the nuances for optimal results figured out... but how do priorities encouraged in the 2nd grade play out into adolescence and beyond?

It was the week before Christmas, Jen's parents were here to celebrate Christmas with their grandchildren for the first time ever.  There were more things to do than days available, but we wanted to make the most of our ten days together.  If you know about our family, you know "The Woods" is a big part of our lives.  We definitely wanted Grandma and Grandpa to see the cabin we began building this summer, and experience our boys in their element.  However the only day it worked with my schedule, Jen's schedule, and holiday plans was the Friday before Christmas - Tobiah's class Christmas party (or whatever they were actually calling it...)

It was up to him; Christmas party with his class or family time at The Woods - what did he want to do, where did he want to be?  We left it up to him, but felt a little bad putting him in the position of having to choose.  In the end he was there with the rest of the family; making s'mores over the fire, battling his brothers with wooden light sabers, and enjoying a damp day in the wilderness with his family.  That's about when it hit me - this shapes the teenager to come.

If we had prioritized his school party over our family time now, it teaches values for years to come.  I don't want to make predictions of what teenage Tobiah will be, but he will be more likely naturally value family time than if we send the message that parties with friends have schedule disrupting value.  It will become part of who he is, just like kids who's parents watch sports, are more likely to value sports, or those who grow in a status seeking environment lean toward that value.  Yes, each of us is unique - and there are countless examples of teens who self-differentiate by heading in exactly the opposite direction (but then again, is that a value instilled by parents and surrounding culture) - but every move we make shapes the values and future of our children.

You'd be crying too!

No crying he made?  Really?  Come on - the writer of that carol couldn't do better than "away in a manger... no crying he made?"

Anyone who with a baby has politely discounted that line as poetic license for over 100 years... but my eleven year old son put the song in new light for me this year.  His observation, simple and profound, had nothing to do with the capacity of infant lungs to create sounds which demand the attention of any adult in the room, but rather what was in that little body.

All of God crammed into eight pounds of human tissue - now that would elicit some crying!  One minute you are all of all, unlimited in every way, and then, there you are, bound by biology, physics, and a puny human brain.  As earth's atmosphere fills your lungs for the first time, it is not a moment for peaceful reflection but a cry of eternal depth.  Not a cry of sadness, mourning, need or frustration, but a cry to release the shear adjustment of it all.

All the power of the universe and beyond, bound into the flesh of a baby.
That is the wonder of Christmas.

I hope you allow the power of Jesus to touch your life this Christmas.

Prattsville vs. Pompeii

Life left on the Kitchen Table

When I was in elementary school I vividly remember learning about the city of Pompeii, a city buried in volcanic ash, every detail frozen in time.  Working in the Prattsville four days after the destructive flooding of the town thoughts of Pompeii returned to my mind.  The homemade salsa finished the night before the flood was still on the counter; the jars covered in silt.  The child’s toy, under the coffee table, embedded in inches of heavy mud.  The flood was unexpected, there was no warning, no evacuation notice; time stopped and the destruction began. 

Main Street Prattsville

Arriving to this disaster zone, which was once a peaceful mountain town, a few days after the flood meant the initial triage was over, but now what?  Everyone on the mud covered main street was moving in slow motion past the destroyed houses and mangled businesses.  The immediate needs had been met, power lines cut, roadways cleared, water provided, shelter arranged – but now what?  It was like standing at the foot of a rugged mountain, how could you possibly climb to the top?  The destruction was so great, the mud so heavy, the debris so tangled. 

Stepping into the flood ravaged house, which a week before was a happy lively home for a young couple raising a darling toddler and expecting their second child in only three months, was an overwhelming experience.  I could feel a sliver of what Greg and Becky were dealing with, the question of “where to begin?”  When four feet of water flows through the first floor of your house it is merciless.  It mashes together the treasure with the trash, and when it is done it leaves behind a muck that binds it all together.  Everything but two laptops and a camera had been left just as it was, and thus destroyed.

Greg came downstairs Sunday morning, noting the rain, he started the day with a quick check of e-mail, Facebook and internet headlines.  After ten minutes online, he looked outside again and noticed water starting to flood main street.  He roused Becky, and in twenty minutes they were pulling out of their driveway through twelve inches of water; having grabbed only a few items from the house where they have lived for years.  As they left it was unfathomable to think of six feet of flood water rushing down the main street in a flow which literally rivaled that of Niagara Falls.

But how does one climb even the tallest mountain?  One step at a time.  And so we began on that sunny Friday morning; piece by piece to empty out the first floor of their house.  From cabinetry to Crocs, from water logged boxes of pasta to antique instruments, it all ended up outside on the remains of the driveway.  Once the belongings which had been reduced to refuge were removed, then we could shovel.  But you don’t cart a wheelbarrow through a home, so one shovel at a time the mud which effortlessly swept into the house was carried out so the house could begin to dry and undergo inspection.  Once items had been extracted from the muck and removed to a sunny place, Greg and Becky Town could recover the durable artifacts from their life; carefully placing them in plastic storage bins for a day in the future when life might return to normal.  They know there will be a day when once again they turn a house into a home.

It was only a start, but the climb up the mountain had begun.  It was a blessing to be part of the process of recovery which will continue for a very long time.  Ultimately every scrap of flooring, drywall, trim and cabinetry would need to be removed and replaced, but the house was no longer frozen in time.  Unlike Pompeii which was lost forever, Prattsville is on the path toward new life.

Pastors Greg and Becky Town
(with inspector - center)

Starting where you are at....

In a little over a week Pastor Dave and I will be spending four Sundays on Prayer 101.  In preparation for this, I have started asking people about their prayer lives.  Some of the spiritually vibrant people I know are conversationalist - living life with a heavenly dialogue within their heads.  Others stand in the gap, taking focused time praying for specific people who have a need.  Others are more meditational, trying to get out of the way to be open to hear from God.  Some pray out loud before meals, some have a time at the end of the day before they "lay down to sleep," some gather with others, while many are very uncomfortable having their prayers heard.

What strikes me when I consider myself, and when I listen to others - where we are at is great, but there is so much more.  Within myself I have been applauding the prayer lives of those I talk to, any conversation with God is great.  But just because what we are doing is good doesn't mean we shouldn't strive for more, for better.  In prayer we have resources made available to us which are beyond comprehension, so the deeper we go, the more of the good stuff we can discover.

I'm looking forward to preaching "Prayer 101" to help people start where they are at, and then go further.  But just as much, I hope to go further. "Starting where you are at..." means you don't stay where you are!