Friday, June 6, 2008

God's Paper Cups

My mom sold our family home last year, the one in which I grew up, so when I make my visit this fall I will only be doing a drive-by visitation of the old homestead. Fortunately, the people who bought the house rehabbed it and had it posted on the web with a local realtor for a few months. That satisfied my curiosity about how the place looked, and it was pleasing to note how they had cared for it. Hopefully, whoever now lives there will love it. My hope, too, is that they will keep the lovely birch tree that has stood proudly in the front yard for over thirty-five years.

The property on which the house stands, while small, is standard for the neighborhood. What made it special for our family was the bounty my parents created, bringing in pear, apple and plum trees, as well as asparagus, raspberries, rhubarb and Concord grapes, all of which we enjoyed, each in their seasons of plenty. A summer garden grew green beans, onions, tomatoes, carrots and cucumbers. What we didn't eat fresh or share with friends was canned by my mother, something a lot of moms did then, even though the process has fallen out of fashion with my generation. I appreciated the plums and raspberries most.. I have also retrofitted my honor for the richness of the past with respect for what asparagus and rhubarb cost at my local market.

While I remember the whole of the backyard bounty with fondness, the trees did more than feed our bodies. They also fed our souls. What is better on a warm Wisconsin summer afternoon than to welcome a tree's imagination into your own, establishing a whole world within the boundaries of its shade and strong branches? Perhaps they were simpler times and often I think that is a good thing, at least for me. I'm glad I still have the memories because the trees and the gardens are now gone.

Which brings me back to the birch tree out front.

I remember the day the it came home to us. A new Walgreens had opened downtown. As a promotion the store was giving away seedling birch trees in large paper cups. Our cup turned out to contain three trees, but only one was sturdy enough to withstand the traffic outside our front door. Once it took root it grew quickly and beautifully. It never was quite tall enough for me to sit under and dream, as I had done so often with the fruit trees out back, but it was graceful, peaceful in the way that only birches can be. Their cream-colored bark, interspersed with deeply brown knots, lend themselves to an especially romantic nature. Our birch became my birch as it grew tall outside my bedroom window. As it reached for the sky, so did I, and soon I left home for the rest of my life.

We all have these stories. Growing up and moving on is the stuff of which life is made. What caught my heart's attention at this time in my life isn't only the anticipated trip home and all the changes that have occurred in my absence. It is to recognize, again, that containers, boundaries, are good for us, but only for certain periods of time. If we stay stuck in them past their intended function we risk stunting our own growth and potentially our future lives. The birch tree would never have been if we had needed to keep it cloistered in its original holder, but by the same token the tree would never have made it to our door if not for the same cup. Nature gives us some clear-cut, obvious lessons, but they are usually a bit challenging to apply to human lives that usually have more gray areas, doubts and questions than seedling trees. Perhaps this idea is somehow related to human beings needing both roots and wings to flourish. Considering all these things my mind also wanders over to the inherent faith lessons.

First and foremost, I firmly believe that God didn't create me or anyone else to stay stuck romanticizing our childhood if we were fortunate enough to have one with some positive attributes. Starting life with a connection to creation unites us in a tangible fashion to our Creator. A whole lot of love from my parents went into that backyard too. They both remembered growing up during the Great Depression and wanted us to always feel we had good things in our lives that would not be taken away from us by economic downturns. God does provide in many and various ways.

Second, God urges us on to the rest of our lives in ways that only God can. Think you can find a nice, safe hole to crawl into, one in which God will never find you? Maybe for some length of time, but not usually forever. Crawling into a hole means you have seen the light of day long enough to realize a step forward is indicated. Hiding, pretending we are not ready for what God has in store for us, only takes time away from what can be, from what we were created to be.

Occasionally, I've heard grown ups, people who have been blessed to have a faith perspective their whole lives, say they attend a particular church because it's a place that "gets back to the basics." To say that attitude confuses me is an understatement. I have asked one or two of these dear souls how their faith informs their lives, only to be met by a confused stare. My understanding is that their beliefs have not kept up with their ability to quote scripture, and they have numbed themselves to hearing God's voice and feeling God's nudging, loving spirit. Of course they are not lost forever, but they have dug themselves a very deep home, one that may take some time and experience out of which to pull themselves.

Third, God is patent as we dig ourselves out of the holes we all inevitably dig for ourselves, always hoping more for us than we ever hope for ourselves. God has a whole lot of paper cups available for us, some to grow out of and some to grow into. The fitting rooms for trying them on are quite spacious, too, and have very forgiving mirrors.

Wednesday, June 4, 2008

Coming Home

Travelocity.com and I are becoming intimately acquainted on my diligent quest for flights home sometime in the next few months. Many other state tourism bureaus clam the title "God's Country" for their neck of the woods, but Wisconsin's Door Peninsula, where I grew up, is surely the place God rested on the seventh day. What better place to enjoy the land, water, fresh air, sunshine and homemade ice cream after six long days of constant creative activity? I once told a friend that I thought the whole world would be as beautiful as this place. She laughed, saying I must have been quite disappointed on discovering that wasn't the case.

Perhaps.

Something else to consider is whether or not we can ever go home, at least to whatever imagination holds, together with our heart, soul and memory, as being that perfect place in which we believe we feel most comfortable, most ourselves. That definition could easily describe an entirely different place than the physical boundaries our of which we found our way to adulthood. It's a fair question to ask ourselves: How do we think about home? All the implications contained in the answer each of us comes to inform the rest of our lives.

Having just celebrated my fiftieth last week, I am also living my jubilee year, something the Biblical book of Leviticus tells us is hallowed, a special time of reflection, reorganization and renewal. Another part of the jubilee story is that this is the time in our lives in which we find ourselves going to the land that God is giving us. Jubilee is not only a time to kick back, smell the roses and drink very old, very good Scotch. There is also some deeply felt movement in our souls that requires paying attention in new ways so as not to miss the next steps of the journey. For myself, I am not sure where the land is that God is giving me, anymore than I feel fully comfortable calling where I grew up home.

Is this uncertainty about home also a Biblical tradition, a sacred trust handed down to us through the named and nameless faithful ones preceding us? How did Adam and Eve feel after they were booted from Eden? What was their next address? Did they long for the only home they had ever known? I think of them, and I think of the Israelites wandering the desert for forty years, feeling a sense of kinship, an understanding of that confused, rootless state in which I have found myself each time I have moved. Excitement only carries me so far, and then I must find new places to grocery shop, get my hair cut and my teeth cleaned.

And what of Jesus' life? The Gospels don't mention his desire to find a good chiropractor while he was on the road working those three years, but they do mention that he stayed wherever he was welcomed. My guess is that translated into some pretty interesting accommodations, some of which he probably never mentioned to his mother. But he appears to have appreciated the hospitality of friends and strangers alike, those who had permanent pillows on which to lay their heads each night and who understood the needs of those who did not enjoy the same luxury. Sometimes home is carried for us by compassionate souls until we can find our way back there for ourselves.

Perhaps home isn't so much a physical place as much as it is how we find our way though life. If that is so, we are always coming home and God welcomes us, not as a treasured guest, but as family. Knowing that one basic truth is what carries us.

Saturday, May 31, 2008

Graduations

Pomp and Circumstance, the traditional graduation processional, echoed outside my door a few days ago. A local high school presides over the entire block across the street, so I shouldn't have been as surprised as I was hearing their rehearsal for this year's big day

But graduation already? Didn't we just celebrate Christmas?

This whole sense of time moving faster as we get older carries a good sized chunk of truth. I'm celebrating my fiftieth birthday this year and it was an equally surprising event the day that the first piece of literature arrived in my mail box from the American Association of Retired Persons (AARP). How did they find me so fast? Turning fifty isn't particularly traumatic to me and, in fact, it feels quite nice to consider how many years I have managed to enjoy so far, but it seems a more private matter, an important piece of my journey that I want to preserve and shape for myself with no interference from outside sources. Perhaps the good folks at AARP were simply not aware of my wishes, and if they were, I am sure they would have held back a little until I was ready to receive their grand offers of value-priced health insurance, travel discounts and spa treatments that will keep me looking younger than they already know I am.

So here I am, reflecting back on some remembered high points: my high school, college and seminary graduations, first meetings with friends who are still a part of my life ten, twenty and thirty years later, great loves gained and lost. Quite frankly, though, I don't remember many of the details of any of these moments that have impacted my life in profound ways. I do have a few cherished stories, but even those don't make up the bulk of what has transpired to be a rich and happily-lived life. What I do know is that appreciating how my education, relationships and accomplishments inform my life now matters more to me and keeps me stepping in rhythm with God on what I believe to be spiritual journey.

Biblical references to life and cultural graduations and transitions are abundant. The Israelites headed out for the Promised Land and kept on going. Moses snagged the Ten Commandments, led his people out of Egypt and they still kept going. Forty years in the wilderness, learning what it meant to live as God's people outside the framework of slavery was a daunting task, but they did it. The New Testament continues the saga of God's people facing issues of relational quality, how to balance faith with government rules and regulations and translating what is into what can be according to their understanding of Jesus' definition of the Kingdom of Heaven. And they, just as we, encountered life issues that are as beautiful and ordinary as God's grace woven among us. People kept being born and dying, marrying and giving in marriage, working and paying taxes. Daily life may look different than ours in its details, but the basic human quotient remains the same today as it did then.

A simple thread of human understanding of how life works at its best binds us to our spiritual ancestors as surely as our hearts and souls remember all the gifts they have given us in how they lived their lives with faith and hope. The decisions to move forward always expand our lives, but the ones that shrink us into less than we are are the ones that look to the past as a safe place to escape the living that is left to do and enjoy. Remembering all the places from which we have grown is quite wonderful, but expecting to be preserved in history before our time on earth is completed only serves to assure that we will not be remembered at all, but left for dead long before our time.

These life transitions serve a solid purpose for our souls and our hearts, teaching us to pay attention, live with intentionality in our moments, so as these moments stretch into seasons and years we are able to recognize the miraculous intent of God With Us over the course of our lives.

T.S. Eliot once wrote that, "We shall not cease from exploration. And the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started, and know the place for the first time." I take great pleasure in these words, approaching the second half of my life with hope, joy and peace in the journey. I feel a new sense of graduation, a step into a whole new adventure filled with possibilities and wonder. Starting out in one's twenties holds a certain level of panic that I don't often feel anymore. I have frequently said that forgiveness and forbearance are the great gifts of middle age: some days you give and some days you get. But I also believe that a confident soul is a treasure worth celebrating, along with taking nothing fro granted.

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Wedding Meditation

My great good fortune has been to know Allison since just before she was born.

I was returning home to Connecticut from performing another wedding. Allison's parents, Tracy and Brian, were in charge of transporting me from Milwaukee to Chicago's O'Hare International Airport. But it wasn't to be because Allison decided this was her time to arrive.

However, I missed her actual coming into the world. Having delayed my breakfast that morning, I decided to take a trip down to the cafeteria for a hearty repast of cheese curls and quick read of People magazine.

Suffice it to say I also learned an important theological life lesson that day: always eat a good breakfast in a timely fashion so as not to miss out on God's finest moments of love and grace.

From the beginning God has been about the creative process of these fine moments, miracles really, of simply being among us. In Genesis we are told how God formed the world, then continued on by bringing us into being to care for it. Then, through Paul's first letter to the church at Corinth we discover how to care for one another.

How we are to go about this is with patience, kindness, humility and gentleness. Caring for one another means letting go of our need to be right, our need to be offended, our need to be cranky and our need to be resentful. Caring for one another, loving one another, means rejoicing in what is true, bearing and believing all things, hoping in and enduring all things, and doing this together. No exclusions.

It is not uncommon to hear these words at occasions such as we celebrate today. Romantic as our human notions of love can and should be, so should our understanding be of what love means as it grows and deepens through experience and time.

Marriage is one of the relationships in which love can show itself between people, but it does not stand alone. We hold out our hearts and souls each day and welcome others to do the same with us. God has blessed us with many kinds of relationships in which we can express the love about which Paul spoke. Parents, children, siblings and friends can all share this love with one another, the same love that God used to create the world. We were all created for community and we are all in this life, on this journey as one people.

T.S. Eliot, in a similar fashion, once likened our lives to a great exploration. He wrote that,

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time

Today we celebrate the love that Allison and Francis have chosen in each other. In their love, they bring together two families, two countries and all of us here today. We celebrate that love as their people, their community, their family. We shall not cease from loving, and the end of all our loving will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.

And, so as not to miss out on another of God's finest moments of love and grace, I assure you that I ate a very good and timely breakfast this morning. I hope you did too. Amen.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Traveling Lightly

Sad news greeted me a few weeks ago through a friend who works for the airline industry. The days of unlimited baggage are coming to a close. From now on we get one checked bag and one carry-on bag per person. If you can't contain yourself in that amount of space you will have the option to pay for additional bags.

Perhaps you have already been put in your place regarding your packing practices by the fifty pound weight restriction I first encountered preparing for my last flight. While surprised air travel had come to this, I really couldn't complain too much: I'd once recovered a suitcase at baggage claim wrapped in bright yellow caution tape announcing, "HEAVY LOAD - LIFTING ASSISTANCE RECOMMENDED." So, it's fair to say I helped put that policy in place and may have even been the poster child for the corporate discussions that cemented the deal.

Despite my past as an over-packer, someone who created and lived by the creed, "If you think you may need it, bring it; if you don't have room, bring another suitcase," I was ready to turn over a new leaf even before I heard the airlines had beat me to the punch. After all, it makes sense that less weight in the plane reduces the fuel draw and therefore supports caring for the environment. From an economic standpoint it also makes sense that the people who feel a need to bring extra should pay extra instead of all of us bearing the burden for a few.

There is also a theological notion to this idea of traveling lightly. Luke's gospel tells us that, "Jesus said to the disciples, 'When I sent you out without a purse, bag or sandals, did you lack anything?' They said, 'No, not a thing (Luke 22:35)."

I could learn some serious packing skills from these folks.

What to wear, what shoes will look best with what outfit and be comfortable for anticipated activities all figure into my choices about what I will bring because I like to have choices when I arrive. If I forget a few things or don't plan ahead properly I feel as though I won't be comfortable the whole time I am away. But reading those few words exchanged between Jesus and his disciples has already relieved me of some deeply-felt need to make sure I have what I need when I arrive at my destination. Because if the disciples were sent out with everything they needed to do their work and live their lives, why would I be treated any differently?

Attracting and manifesting abundance continues to be a hot topic. I believe many people still equate abundance with material wealth and all its perceived pleasure and security. Abundance as a spiritual concept is so much more than things and striving for more things. Security is a larger concept than financial accumulations that we feel will give us freedom and protect us from the world's catastrophes. Jesus' words to his disciples implore us to remember that we are whole, just as we were created, and that we lack nothing when we go into the world in service to God and our community. We already have everything we need.

Equally so, I am humbled by this exchange between teacher and students. My guess is the field trip on which Jesus sent his followers was designed to empower them, to reveal to them just how much God had invested in them as they were out and about assisting people they met in the most miraculous of ways. The disciples weren't able to preach, teach, inspire, or heal people because they traveled with the right clothing, shoes, accessories or hair care products. They weren't successful in helping those they met on their journey because they carried large sums of money to ease people's financial burdens.

The disciples were successful in doing these practical aspects of ministry Jesus had taught them by example and instruction because, consciously or unconsciously, because they relied on their wholeness in God. Any good coach will tell you that they are only passing on the tools they have used for themselves to those who already have the answers to their own questions inside of themselves. Jesus was a very good coach who then reminded these people closest to him on their return that they had relied very well on themselves and their faith. It was traveling lightly, not bringing excess, unnecessary religious baggage along that allowed Jesus to touch so many lives in such a short time. The same could be said for the disciples as they learned what they would need to know in order to continue Jesus' work after he had left them.

And so, we need to ask ourselves what it means for us to travel lightly as we live our lives each day. What can we let go of that hinders our personal growth or perhaps denies us our hope and faith in the future? What old patterns limit us from being our truly whole selves? Are we carrying so much extra, unnecessary stuff along that we are paying too heavy a price from which we could release ourselves?

My new packing creed is, "Think twice, pack once." Much shorter and easier, and I think my back will appreciate the lighter load.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Mercy for All

Election coverage continues here in the United States.

John McCain has been the decided Republican presidential candidate for what seems like a good long while. Democratic hopefuls Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama are still wooing potential voters with their ideas and plans to make our country a better place. All three are members of the U.S. Senate and each believes they can lead us forward into prosperity and a stronger position as a world leader.

I hold my own thoughts on who may be the best person for the job, but what I find most interesting in this race for the White House is the conversation around leadership itself. Leading other people means knowing what to do and simultaneously being able to convey to others what they must do . Pulling double-duty, so to speak. Some thrive under these circumstances. Many do not, no matter what their best intentions may be because leadership also requires, demands, the ability to look ahead and share the vision for those following behind so they may continue to act with faith and hope. How a leader views their followers indicates how they share the vision.

This is the position Jesus found himself in as recalled in Mark;s gospel. "Jesus saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them, for they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things (Mark 6: 34)."

Mark's insights into Jesus' vision of those who were becoming his followers succinctly sum up the whole of Jesus' ministry. Jesus saw people where they were at in their lives and cared for them. Recognizing that they needed what he had, he offered it to them in abundance.

How many leaders have you known like this in your life?

Perhaps Jesus just had a unique style of working with people that is not able to be replicated, but I'm not ready to concede that point yet. Traditionally business folks are taught to keep their personal feelings and professional actions separate. "It's nothing personal, it's just business," is a phrase I've heard more than once as the precursor to downsizing, layoffs, and assorted other business practices that disassociate upper management actions from the humanity of their co-workers. What kind of vision do these kinds of leaders have for the continued development of their companies, and how do they really think the remaining workers will respond to them in the future? How much trust is denied and destroyed in the process?

Somehow, understanding that he could connect with a wide range of people simply by caring about them worked for Jesus. Also, Jesus knew his own strengths, knew that he could teach these people many things. He extravagantly shared his wisdom, knowledge, love, compassion, forgiveness, hope and his vision for the kingdom of heaven in as many ways as he could. He continued that work even as he was dying on the cross. That is some serious investment in his followers. Jesus didn't see the multitudes as people he could manipulate into who he wanted them to be to support his own need for power. Jesus stood in his own authority and welcomed people to him who wanted to claim their own authority as God's daughters and sons. He saw people with eyes filled with mercy and taught them with lovingkindness. Jesus saw his followers as already belonging to and living in the kingdom of heaven he helped them envision.

As I mentioned, I hold my own thoughts on who may make the best president for where our country is at in its history. I admit my bias is based on this leadership image that Jesus embodied. Mainly, Jesus was inclusive, valuing who people were and what they brought to the table. I want a president who looks at the citizens of this country in like fashion. And not just U.S. citizens, but people who live around the world, especially those in the poorest countries. My prayer is that we never have the luxury of excluding humanity from U.S. domestic or foreign policy based on our need to disassociate ourselves from other people's suffering to justify the means to our collectively-held end. My hope is that whoever becomes our next president has merciful eyes to see and wisdom to share what is ahead if we care for one another as our first objective.

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Wednesday Evening

Scripture tells us that Jesus and his disciples worked in and around Jerusalem from Palm Sunday through the early part of that week.

Much of their work remained as it had been for all the years they had shared their journey. Preaching, teaching and healing those who came to hear Jesus, to experience his authority and power, filled their days and continued on into their nights. Perhaps there was a greater sense of urgency on Jesus' part. But between the increased numbers of people in town for the Passover and the tensions brewing among the Temple authorities which added to their own ever-present exhaustion, the disciples could easily have brushed aside any concerns they had that something felt different, not quite right, even ominous. Jesus' messages focused on servanthood, the kingdom of God and watching for the trials and tribulations to come, all of which were well-received, Chief Priests and Pharisees excepted, of course. Jerusalem was their territory. Confrontations between them and Jesus were inevitable and had been expected. Having faced violence here before it had been a risk to come at all. But Jesus had insisted, here they were and any potential threats seemed to be at bay. It was unlikely any troubles would erupt with so many followers of Jesus close at hand.

Then something unexpected happened.

Unlike so many times before, as the daylight neared its end, Jesus rounded up the disciples and led them to Bethany, just outside the city, to rest privately for the evening. No crowds, no fitting themselves into a gathering of strangers filled with tax collectors, laborers, shepherds and tradespeople, sitting around a table eager for refreshment, both physical and spiritual, after another long, grueling day of life. They would have time together to eat, rest and pray with Jesus by themselves. None of them could remember the last time this had happened. It felt good to be away from all the noise and excitement, all the people jammed into the narrow streets of the city. Many of the twelve had families with whom they would not be spending this sacred time. To be able to pull back from their work, if only for an evening, was a luxury they didn't think they would be afforded, especially tonight. They would savor it, cherish it, for a long time. Who knew when they would have this chance again?

As Jesus and his disciples walked along, several of the twelve began to feel the shift. They glanced back at Jerusalem, then looked to Jesus, and a new awareness took hold of them. But only for a moment. In an instant, it was gone. Jerusalem was loud and bustling and Jesus was simply as worn out as they themselves were.

Tomorrow evening the Passover would begin. Who knew what miracles Jesus would perform? Perhaps this would be the night Jesus claimed his full power. Maybe they would witness the Messiah of God coming into his glory and see God's kingdom established on earth before their very eyes. What would that be like? What would the Chief Priests and Pharisees say to that? What would Rome do in the face of God's almighty reign? Time would tell.

But for tonight, they would rest.