Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. Galatians 6:9
I came to love the game of basketball late in life. That is if you consider 45 years of age such a thing. My husband and I had just moved our family to San Antonio, and we were living in a tiny apartment while our home was being built. Because the apartment was the size of a postage stamp, I could either watch the game with him in the family room/dining room, or go to bed. Usually I chose to go to bed. Once when I couldn't sleep, I watched the end of a game. The Spurs lost, but they behaved like champions.
In the post-game interviews, when asked why they lost the game, the players did not blame the referees--- although according to my husband they would have been justified in doing so. They did not blame their teammates. They focused on themselves and admitted they didn't play their best, and the other team deserved to win. I fell in love with the Spurs right then and there. Despite a bitter game, they took responsibility for their failure. Though certainly troubled by the loss, they were not in fact defeated by it. The next game they dusted off their sneakers, picked themselves up and left their failure where it belonged, in the past. They stayed in the moment, played the game and they won. At least that series.
Since then, I have watched the Spurs play hundreds of games. I have watched them play so extraordinarily well that I had to replay an awesome shot on the DVR over and over again. I have sprung to my feet and stood inches away from the TV, as if standing three inches from the screen could enable me to mentally will a free throw into the net instead of out of it. I have also known the anguish of watching them play horribly. I have sat on the couch with my eyes shut tight, unable to watch a turnover or three point miss. Through it all, watching close up or listening with my hands over my eyes, at the end of the game, I will still love the Spurs. Win or lose they behave like champions.
This year, when the Spurs played game five against the Memphis Grizzlies in the semi-finals. With less than half a minute to go, Manu Ginobili and Gary Neal threw up miracle shots that swished through the net and tied the game forcing overtime. The Spurs outscored the Grizzlies in overtime and won the game.
When Manu and Neal were interviewed after the game, they did not take all the glory and they cast no blame on their teammates for almost losing the game. Manu said the team had made mistakes and then quickly added that he also had made mistakes in the game that cost the team points. There was no bad-mouthing his teammates, his opponents, or the referees. He simply acknowledged his mistakes, and celebrated the team effort. He didn't mention that he put up 33 points during the game. Likewise Neal humbly celebrated the basket that resuscitated the Spurs for at least one more game. He spoke of the team effort more than individual success.
A reporter asked Manu if having the heart of a champion enabled the Spurs to win game four, and he replied, "No we just got lucky."
It may have been luck that won Game five, but it is the heart of the Spurs that makes the team true champions. It was their heart that stole mine and turned me into a true fan. Sadly, the Spurs lost game six. Either way the ball bounces though---in or out of the rim---the Spurs will have my heart, because they have heart. The way they win and the way they lose have taught me some amazing life lessons.
1. We play as a team. We lose as a team. We are not created to play alone. We need each other to do our best.
2. Choose your teammates wisely. The people we spend the most time with each day have a major impact on our vision of life.
3. Blaming doesn't make you a winner. Accepting responsibility, or letting go when genuinely wronged, does.
4. We are not our mistakes. Once we evaluate how our actions contributed to a failure, we can let it go and play the game well.
5. Don't hog the ball (or the glory). Team work multiplies the joy of success and reduces the pain of loss.
6. Don't coast on the last victory. Stay in the moment and play as if you will not get another chance. Don't rest on your laurels thinking that the way you have always won in the past, will always work in the future. Welcome new people and new ideas for a winning strategy.
7. Even when you are down and there seems no way you could possibly win, NEVER, NEVER, NEVER give up until the final buzzer sounds.
8. Don't let emotions get the best of you. When frustrated, find your center and breathe. Keep dribbling, keep moving, and keep shooting for your dreams.
9. It takes different strengths and talents to make a winning team. At times in our lives we need a strong presence in the paint who can move through tough obstacles and create an otherwise impossible shot. Other situations call for someone to stand beyond the arc and show us how to shoot for our goals from a distance. Still other times we just need someone to set a screen so that we can take our shot. One type of play is not better than another. It is just different, and celebrating our differences strengthens the team.
10. Don't waste time on the bench. Use it to focus and engage in the game. Much of life is spent waiting for an opportunity play. Don't waste that time or resent it. Use it to plan, to learn from others and to strategize. When you are called off the bench, be ready to enter the game with gratitude, energy and enthusiasm.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Thursday, February 10, 2011
The Dog in the Ditch
Drawer near to God and God will draw near to you. James 4:8
Someone dumped a dog in our neighborhood. I saw him get dumped; only I didn’t know what was happening. A man walked into a vacant lot at the end of the street with a black lab, my favorite breed. Though I didn’t recognize the man, I figured he was just out on a walk with his dog. Later that week, I spotted the same dog trotting through the neighborhood. I assumed he would find his way back home. As time went on though, the dog continued to roam the streets, but only at night. Because of his nocturnal wanderings, I named him “Shadow.”
Many people in the neighborhood spotted the stray. For the first few weeks Shadow was loose, friends would call our house asking if our dog missing because Shadow looks so much like one of mine. My dog was safe, warm and at home. After one such phone call, I decided that we could help Shadow. We would find him a good home. First I had to catch him. Not an easy task.
It has been months now, more than a year. I have tried everything and still Shadow eludes my grasp. Dog treats, hot dogs, even steak--- no food was enough to entice him. He was always much too quick to catch. Once he dashed into a drainage ditch. Another time I saw him cautiously exit that same ditch, and I realized that he lived there. For weeks I took food and water to his ditch. Sometimes he was there. Sometimes not. Still I never gained his trust. He would not come to me.
After a while, I gave up trying to catch him. If Shadow preferred to be a proud homeless dog, who was I to impose my middle-class sensibilities on him? Still, when a hard freeze gripped our area, Shadow lurked into my thoughts. One night, in between getting my daughter to dance lessons and heading back to work for an evening meeting, I went to his drainage ditch. Bearing an odd assortment of gifts for the homeless dog such as car mats, a blanket, towel, food and water, I screwed up my courage, bent down and crawled deep into the ditch. I laid out the car mat to prevent the blanket from getting wet. I left the food, crept out of the darkness, brushed off my pants and headed back to work. Crazy I know. Pascal once said, “The heart has reasons which reason knows not of.” Heart drove me into that ditch.
The next morning I went to check on Shadow. The food was still there. I feared the dog had frozen to death in the night. Just when I thought Shadow’s time on this earth had come to an end, I looked up. In the distance I saw Shadow trotting toward me with a little dog, a new friend. As soon as he saw me though, Shadow stopped in his tracks. Before bolting in the opposite direction, Shadow stared at me, as if to say, “Would you please stop intruding on my life?” I watched Shadow, and his buddy race off in the distance.
I still see Shadow from time to time. He seems to hang out at a house just outside our neighborhood that has three large dogs in a fenced yard. When I was out walking one day, I happened to see the owner of Shadow’s hangout, and I ask the man if he had given Shadow a home and he said, “No he just took it. He likes to hang out here for some reason. I have enough dogs already. Full up here.”
For now, Shadow seems to spend his life between the ditch and the home where he is not wanted. Funny how a dog taught me about the power of choice, and the power of fear. Clearly Shadow is afraid to trust me. Fear imprisons him to a damp drainage ditch or the yard of someone who doesn’t want him. He could have a real home. But if someone (or animal in this case) doesn’t want to be saved, we can’t save them. I haven’t given up on Shadow. He could still find his way to a real home. Sometimes we have to wander and roam for a long time before we can find our true home. But for now, Shadow roams.
Shadow made me ponder the ways fear can hold us in dark, dank corners. How is our lack of trust in God keeping us from enjoying the fullness of life? Do we run from love? Do we stare blankly when God extends a hand of grace through a loved one or even a stranger? Do we run from forgiveness or forgiving. Do we run life itself?
God will not give up on us. The heart has reasons which reason know not of. If God needs to crawl through a dank, dark ditch to find us, to save us and give us a home, God will. God continues to offer the bread of life and living water to nourish our souls. When we have been hurt or abandoned by love it is hard to trust and follow God to a new home. With faith,we can find the willingness to walk toward God instead of running the other direction.
A lot of folks flee from God like a scared dog racing into a ditch. Where do such people run? Where are the drainage pipes where we like to hide? Perfectionism, procrastination, drinking, sex addiction, shopping, workaholism are just a few of the dead-end ditches where we like to crawl. What fear drives us there? Fear of failure? Fear of success? Fear of looking foolish? Being hurt?
The choice is truly ours. We can trust in love instead of fear. We can wander our way into the arms of divine love. With faith, we can find our way home. We haven’t been dumped in this world by an uncaring owner. We have been placed here by a loving God who wants us to be fully loved and fully alive. May faith draw us near to God so that God can draw near to us each day and we can find our way to our true home.
Someone dumped a dog in our neighborhood. I saw him get dumped; only I didn’t know what was happening. A man walked into a vacant lot at the end of the street with a black lab, my favorite breed. Though I didn’t recognize the man, I figured he was just out on a walk with his dog. Later that week, I spotted the same dog trotting through the neighborhood. I assumed he would find his way back home. As time went on though, the dog continued to roam the streets, but only at night. Because of his nocturnal wanderings, I named him “Shadow.”
Many people in the neighborhood spotted the stray. For the first few weeks Shadow was loose, friends would call our house asking if our dog missing because Shadow looks so much like one of mine. My dog was safe, warm and at home. After one such phone call, I decided that we could help Shadow. We would find him a good home. First I had to catch him. Not an easy task.
It has been months now, more than a year. I have tried everything and still Shadow eludes my grasp. Dog treats, hot dogs, even steak--- no food was enough to entice him. He was always much too quick to catch. Once he dashed into a drainage ditch. Another time I saw him cautiously exit that same ditch, and I realized that he lived there. For weeks I took food and water to his ditch. Sometimes he was there. Sometimes not. Still I never gained his trust. He would not come to me.
After a while, I gave up trying to catch him. If Shadow preferred to be a proud homeless dog, who was I to impose my middle-class sensibilities on him? Still, when a hard freeze gripped our area, Shadow lurked into my thoughts. One night, in between getting my daughter to dance lessons and heading back to work for an evening meeting, I went to his drainage ditch. Bearing an odd assortment of gifts for the homeless dog such as car mats, a blanket, towel, food and water, I screwed up my courage, bent down and crawled deep into the ditch. I laid out the car mat to prevent the blanket from getting wet. I left the food, crept out of the darkness, brushed off my pants and headed back to work. Crazy I know. Pascal once said, “The heart has reasons which reason knows not of.” Heart drove me into that ditch.
The next morning I went to check on Shadow. The food was still there. I feared the dog had frozen to death in the night. Just when I thought Shadow’s time on this earth had come to an end, I looked up. In the distance I saw Shadow trotting toward me with a little dog, a new friend. As soon as he saw me though, Shadow stopped in his tracks. Before bolting in the opposite direction, Shadow stared at me, as if to say, “Would you please stop intruding on my life?” I watched Shadow, and his buddy race off in the distance.
I still see Shadow from time to time. He seems to hang out at a house just outside our neighborhood that has three large dogs in a fenced yard. When I was out walking one day, I happened to see the owner of Shadow’s hangout, and I ask the man if he had given Shadow a home and he said, “No he just took it. He likes to hang out here for some reason. I have enough dogs already. Full up here.”
For now, Shadow seems to spend his life between the ditch and the home where he is not wanted. Funny how a dog taught me about the power of choice, and the power of fear. Clearly Shadow is afraid to trust me. Fear imprisons him to a damp drainage ditch or the yard of someone who doesn’t want him. He could have a real home. But if someone (or animal in this case) doesn’t want to be saved, we can’t save them. I haven’t given up on Shadow. He could still find his way to a real home. Sometimes we have to wander and roam for a long time before we can find our true home. But for now, Shadow roams.
Shadow made me ponder the ways fear can hold us in dark, dank corners. How is our lack of trust in God keeping us from enjoying the fullness of life? Do we run from love? Do we stare blankly when God extends a hand of grace through a loved one or even a stranger? Do we run from forgiveness or forgiving. Do we run life itself?
God will not give up on us. The heart has reasons which reason know not of. If God needs to crawl through a dank, dark ditch to find us, to save us and give us a home, God will. God continues to offer the bread of life and living water to nourish our souls. When we have been hurt or abandoned by love it is hard to trust and follow God to a new home. With faith,we can find the willingness to walk toward God instead of running the other direction.
A lot of folks flee from God like a scared dog racing into a ditch. Where do such people run? Where are the drainage pipes where we like to hide? Perfectionism, procrastination, drinking, sex addiction, shopping, workaholism are just a few of the dead-end ditches where we like to crawl. What fear drives us there? Fear of failure? Fear of success? Fear of looking foolish? Being hurt?
The choice is truly ours. We can trust in love instead of fear. We can wander our way into the arms of divine love. With faith, we can find our way home. We haven’t been dumped in this world by an uncaring owner. We have been placed here by a loving God who wants us to be fully loved and fully alive. May faith draw us near to God so that God can draw near to us each day and we can find our way to our true home.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Closet Clutter
So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation; everything old has bassed away; see everything has become new!
2 Corinthians 5:17
The other night I happened upon a new television show with Peter Walsh called "Enough Already." Walsh is a personal organizer, and his show helps families whose lives have been overtaken by clutter. The family on the episode I saw couldn't even walk through, much less sit, in the family room. Every surface was stuffed with books, clothes, old newspapers, and heaven knows what else. Walsh explained that there are two types of clutter that cause such chaos in a home, emotional clutter and future clutter. Emotional clutter is created when we cannot give up something because it holds a special memory from our past. Future clutter is created because we are worried that we might need an item in the future so we cannot let it go. It doesn't matter if we haven't worn that dress in five years and it doesn't fit, it might fit next year. The problem is that when we hold onto emotional and future clutter, we cannot enjoy what we have today. Our lives become full of the wrong things.
It occurred to me as I watched the show that our lives are often robbed by clutter. In addition to material things that stack up in our homes, we have mental clutter that often needs to be thrown out so that we can live well today. While our memories are precious and life-giving, they can also be debilitating if we don't make room for new life experiences. Think of the high school football star or cheerleader who never moves past the glory days of their youth to embrace the joys of adulthood. Some of us have future emotional clutter because we are so worried about not having something we need in days ahead. We worry that we will not have enough money, enough time or enough wisdom and courage to face future challenges. Mental clutter does exactly what material clutter does. It robs us of today's joy. It keeps us from fully celebrating what we do have.
I was so inspired after watching the show that I decided to clean out my bedroom closet. While the most areas of our home are quite livable, my closet is not. It was past time to make a trip to the Goodwill. So with Peter Walsh's words leading the way, I braved the mess of my closet and ruthlessly discarded any item of clothing that I do not love or have not worn in a year. Just two hours later, I emerged from that closet with two huge garbage bags practically exploding with shoes, purses and clothes. It was liberating and exhilarating. When it was all said and done, I stood in the closet and smiled. I also had to wonder why I had not done it sooner. I told myself for months (ok years) that I was too busy. But then it really didn't take all that long. Initially the task was daunting, but piece by piece it grew more manageable.
Perhaps this is how we can rid our heads of mental clutter. When an old unpleasant memory pops up or a longing for a past that can never return to, we can put the thoughts in their proper place or throw it out. When fear of the future paralyzes us and keeps us from pursuing a dream, we can toss that fear into the garbage of unwanted thoughts. Piece by piece, little by little, as we clear the mental clutter out of today, we gain a clearer vision of life's true joy.
True, I made tremendous progress on my closet in a very short period of time, but now I have to maintain it. Clutter accumulates quickly if you don't stay on top of it. So it is with our emotions. If we don't sort through our fear and resentment as it pops up, our hearts turn into a jumbled mess. Prayer, meditation, and wise counsel help discard emotional garbage.
At the end of my cleaning frenzy, there were just two dresses, both of them black, I just could not discard. One I wore on my honeymoon and the other I wore to my mother's funeral two weeks before our wedding. I tried to put them in the garbage bag. Clearly they are prime examples of emotional clutter. Still, I could not let them go. For those two dresses represented one of the happiest and one of the saddest moments of my life. Moments that happened to come in rapid succession of each other. Perhaps in 20 years when I am 70 and the dresses have been in my closet 40 years, I will be ready, but I am not yet. Sometimes we have to give ourselves time to let go clutter. Progress not perfection, so the saying goes.
May God inspire us to discard the trash that robs us of divine joy and peace today. Let us toss out the garbage and bring in Christ's peace so that we can celebrate life.
2 Corinthians 5:17
The other night I happened upon a new television show with Peter Walsh called "Enough Already." Walsh is a personal organizer, and his show helps families whose lives have been overtaken by clutter. The family on the episode I saw couldn't even walk through, much less sit, in the family room. Every surface was stuffed with books, clothes, old newspapers, and heaven knows what else. Walsh explained that there are two types of clutter that cause such chaos in a home, emotional clutter and future clutter. Emotional clutter is created when we cannot give up something because it holds a special memory from our past. Future clutter is created because we are worried that we might need an item in the future so we cannot let it go. It doesn't matter if we haven't worn that dress in five years and it doesn't fit, it might fit next year. The problem is that when we hold onto emotional and future clutter, we cannot enjoy what we have today. Our lives become full of the wrong things.
It occurred to me as I watched the show that our lives are often robbed by clutter. In addition to material things that stack up in our homes, we have mental clutter that often needs to be thrown out so that we can live well today. While our memories are precious and life-giving, they can also be debilitating if we don't make room for new life experiences. Think of the high school football star or cheerleader who never moves past the glory days of their youth to embrace the joys of adulthood. Some of us have future emotional clutter because we are so worried about not having something we need in days ahead. We worry that we will not have enough money, enough time or enough wisdom and courage to face future challenges. Mental clutter does exactly what material clutter does. It robs us of today's joy. It keeps us from fully celebrating what we do have.
I was so inspired after watching the show that I decided to clean out my bedroom closet. While the most areas of our home are quite livable, my closet is not. It was past time to make a trip to the Goodwill. So with Peter Walsh's words leading the way, I braved the mess of my closet and ruthlessly discarded any item of clothing that I do not love or have not worn in a year. Just two hours later, I emerged from that closet with two huge garbage bags practically exploding with shoes, purses and clothes. It was liberating and exhilarating. When it was all said and done, I stood in the closet and smiled. I also had to wonder why I had not done it sooner. I told myself for months (ok years) that I was too busy. But then it really didn't take all that long. Initially the task was daunting, but piece by piece it grew more manageable.
Perhaps this is how we can rid our heads of mental clutter. When an old unpleasant memory pops up or a longing for a past that can never return to, we can put the thoughts in their proper place or throw it out. When fear of the future paralyzes us and keeps us from pursuing a dream, we can toss that fear into the garbage of unwanted thoughts. Piece by piece, little by little, as we clear the mental clutter out of today, we gain a clearer vision of life's true joy.
True, I made tremendous progress on my closet in a very short period of time, but now I have to maintain it. Clutter accumulates quickly if you don't stay on top of it. So it is with our emotions. If we don't sort through our fear and resentment as it pops up, our hearts turn into a jumbled mess. Prayer, meditation, and wise counsel help discard emotional garbage.
At the end of my cleaning frenzy, there were just two dresses, both of them black, I just could not discard. One I wore on my honeymoon and the other I wore to my mother's funeral two weeks before our wedding. I tried to put them in the garbage bag. Clearly they are prime examples of emotional clutter. Still, I could not let them go. For those two dresses represented one of the happiest and one of the saddest moments of my life. Moments that happened to come in rapid succession of each other. Perhaps in 20 years when I am 70 and the dresses have been in my closet 40 years, I will be ready, but I am not yet. Sometimes we have to give ourselves time to let go clutter. Progress not perfection, so the saying goes.
May God inspire us to discard the trash that robs us of divine joy and peace today. Let us toss out the garbage and bring in Christ's peace so that we can celebrate life.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Loud Night, Holy Night
O Holy Night! The stars are brightly shining,
It is the night of the dear Saviour's birth.
Long lay the world in sin and error pining.
Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees! Oh, hear the angel voices!
O night divine, the night when Christ was born;
O night, O Holy Night , O night divine!
O night, O Holy Night , O night divine!
In the early 1990s, my sister, Virginia, came to visit me the week before Christmas. It was her idea to go to a bar. My suggestion that we cozy up with our jammies, hot chocolate, popcorn, and a Christmas movie was met with great disdain. Virginia enlisted the help of my roommate, Kristen, to convince me to go. Of course this was long before I was married with children, so I was as footloose and fancy free as a Presbyterian pastor could be. As far as Virginia and Kristen were concerned, there was just no good reason to stay home. That is why I found myself stuck in a smoke-filled bar that reeked with drunken breath and bad music. Random barflies belted out very bad renditions of Madonna and the B-52’s. Each person who took the stage gloried in a briefest encounter with stardom. Those brave enough to take their chance at fleeting fame, sang to a largely disinterested crowd that showed no mercy or compassion for effort.
This is precisely why I was baffled when Virginia decided that she and Kristen should do a duet together. Mind you, they have talent. Both studied voice in college and grew up singing in a church choirs. But why, oh why, would they stand before a raging sea of intoxication to display their talent? Surely that sea would engulf them in humiliation. To make matters worse, they decided not to choose a number sure to please the crowd. They chose a song they knew. Mind you, they only knew church songs. Kristen has a beautiful soprano voice, a perfect match for my sister’s alto harmony. Compared to the scantily clad and heavily made up faces of the women before them, Kristen and Virginia looked like they were trying to play a game of “which one doesn’t belong.” Looking every bit the choir girls they were, the two took the mic and told the Karaoke DJ they wanted to sing, “O Holy Night.”
“Oh please,” I groaned to myself. “Just let this night be over.” The music began amidst the noise and clamor of the bar. I braced myself for the cackles and the booing that previous singers provoked. Instead the most amazing thing happened. When Kristen and Virginia opened their mouths to sing, their voices floated over the chaos and seemingly sprinkled it with calm, peace and quiet. Everything came to an abrupt halt. Each head turned to see where the creamy blend of melody began. It seemed that no one moved. No one cheered. No one booed. No one did anything but stare at the choir girls and listen.
I will never forget that moment. As I watched the scene freeze before my eyes, I was stunned. People who had come that night for some fun and escape from their dull lives, found so much more. People who sought to drown out the misery of lost dreams and hopes in a few drinks, turned to listen to a promise. People who came to be famous for a moment, stopped to hear a song about true worth. They all stopped that night---the patrons, the bartenders, the waitresses --- they stopped for a moment of holiness. For an instant, that bar became a place of worship. For a brief space in time, the hope of the Christ child filled a room and brought it peace. It was as if someone, somewhere had pushed a pause button on crazy chaos, and it was all so glorious. But as soon as the song ended, insanity played again. An explosion of wild cheers and applause erupted for Kristen and Virginia. Ecstatic joy expressed unlike anything I have ever seen in the many churches I have attended.
It was Holy night in that smoky Trenton bar. For a moment, it felt as if Christ had appeared and the souls gathered together to feel their worth. A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoiced that night. For that very moment, I will remain eternally grateful. When forced to leave my comfort zone, I heard the angel voices in a way I never had in a church service. “O night, O Holy Night, O night divine!”
Humans forced to leave their comfort zone to discover Holiness has always been God’s story. It was certainly part of Mary and Joseph’s. May Christ appear to us on our journey to Bethlehem this year. May he transform the uncomfortable places we encounter into holy places. For in that holy space, our souls discover their true worth.
It is the night of the dear Saviour's birth.
Long lay the world in sin and error pining.
Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees! Oh, hear the angel voices!
O night divine, the night when Christ was born;
O night, O Holy Night , O night divine!
O night, O Holy Night , O night divine!
In the early 1990s, my sister, Virginia, came to visit me the week before Christmas. It was her idea to go to a bar. My suggestion that we cozy up with our jammies, hot chocolate, popcorn, and a Christmas movie was met with great disdain. Virginia enlisted the help of my roommate, Kristen, to convince me to go. Of course this was long before I was married with children, so I was as footloose and fancy free as a Presbyterian pastor could be. As far as Virginia and Kristen were concerned, there was just no good reason to stay home. That is why I found myself stuck in a smoke-filled bar that reeked with drunken breath and bad music. Random barflies belted out very bad renditions of Madonna and the B-52’s. Each person who took the stage gloried in a briefest encounter with stardom. Those brave enough to take their chance at fleeting fame, sang to a largely disinterested crowd that showed no mercy or compassion for effort.
This is precisely why I was baffled when Virginia decided that she and Kristen should do a duet together. Mind you, they have talent. Both studied voice in college and grew up singing in a church choirs. But why, oh why, would they stand before a raging sea of intoxication to display their talent? Surely that sea would engulf them in humiliation. To make matters worse, they decided not to choose a number sure to please the crowd. They chose a song they knew. Mind you, they only knew church songs. Kristen has a beautiful soprano voice, a perfect match for my sister’s alto harmony. Compared to the scantily clad and heavily made up faces of the women before them, Kristen and Virginia looked like they were trying to play a game of “which one doesn’t belong.” Looking every bit the choir girls they were, the two took the mic and told the Karaoke DJ they wanted to sing, “O Holy Night.”
“Oh please,” I groaned to myself. “Just let this night be over.” The music began amidst the noise and clamor of the bar. I braced myself for the cackles and the booing that previous singers provoked. Instead the most amazing thing happened. When Kristen and Virginia opened their mouths to sing, their voices floated over the chaos and seemingly sprinkled it with calm, peace and quiet. Everything came to an abrupt halt. Each head turned to see where the creamy blend of melody began. It seemed that no one moved. No one cheered. No one booed. No one did anything but stare at the choir girls and listen.
I will never forget that moment. As I watched the scene freeze before my eyes, I was stunned. People who had come that night for some fun and escape from their dull lives, found so much more. People who sought to drown out the misery of lost dreams and hopes in a few drinks, turned to listen to a promise. People who came to be famous for a moment, stopped to hear a song about true worth. They all stopped that night---the patrons, the bartenders, the waitresses --- they stopped for a moment of holiness. For an instant, that bar became a place of worship. For a brief space in time, the hope of the Christ child filled a room and brought it peace. It was as if someone, somewhere had pushed a pause button on crazy chaos, and it was all so glorious. But as soon as the song ended, insanity played again. An explosion of wild cheers and applause erupted for Kristen and Virginia. Ecstatic joy expressed unlike anything I have ever seen in the many churches I have attended.
It was Holy night in that smoky Trenton bar. For a moment, it felt as if Christ had appeared and the souls gathered together to feel their worth. A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoiced that night. For that very moment, I will remain eternally grateful. When forced to leave my comfort zone, I heard the angel voices in a way I never had in a church service. “O night, O Holy Night, O night divine!”
Humans forced to leave their comfort zone to discover Holiness has always been God’s story. It was certainly part of Mary and Joseph’s. May Christ appear to us on our journey to Bethlehem this year. May he transform the uncomfortable places we encounter into holy places. For in that holy space, our souls discover their true worth.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Manger Gazing
Years ago, I was an Associate Pastor for family ministry. As such, one of my responsibilities was the annual Christmas pageant. Directing such an event is certainly not for the faint of heart or weak in spirit. It was an annual test of my faith and fortitude. Challenges included---but were certainly not limited to---every parent wanted their child in the pageant, but all were too busy to attend the desperately needed rehearsals. The costumes were ancient, but could not be replaced because the saint who made them 30 years earlier was still a member of the congregation and no one wanted to hurt her feelings. The shepherds, mostly boys, and the angels, all girls, did not want to stand near each other. And so it went each year,a mad and oddly joy-filled free-for-all.
One unforgettable occasion, a little boy was supposed to read the prophesy from Isaiah 11:1-10 filled with beautiful promises such as, "The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them." Instead of reading Isaiah's promise, the child read the same verses from the book of Daniel (Lord only knows why). So as the baby Jesus doll laid in the manger, the narrator read, "At that time, I Daniel, had been mourning for three weeks. I had eaten no rich food, no meat or wine had entered my mouth, and I had not anointed myself at all for the full three weeks. . . My strength left me, and my complexion grew deathly pale, I retained no strength. . .I fell into a trance, face to the ground."
Mortified as the director, I felt my strength leave me and my complexion must have grown deathly pale. I sat in the front pew wishing that I could fall into a trance, face to the ground, but no such luck was to be had that Christmas Eve. In fact, Joseph, obviously bored with Mary and the baby, went to go hang out with his far more interesting friends, the shepherds. The shepherds had learned that one could "hook" an angel with their shepherd hooks and so they tormented the angels behind them. There was no peace in that Bethlehem scene. Just pushing and shoving amongst the angels and shepherds, a Joseph that had lost his focus, and a narrator reading words of doom instead of promise. The only exception to the nightmare was Mary. Sweet, amazing Mary somehow managed to ignore the frenzy around her to stare intently at the Madame Alexander baby doll as if it were truly the baby Jesus. Though I do not remember the child's name, I have never forgotten her inspiring tenacity. It was a Christmas gift that has returned to me each year.
The image of that lone child surrounded by a wild cast of characters portrays God's call to each of us during the Christmas season. We listen for Christ's promise, even when words of doom are proclaimed by a misguided soul. We keep our focus even if someone who is supposed to stand beside us decides to wander off into mischief. We remain calm and keep our balance as we kneel before prince of peace, instead of getting "hooked" by the bad behavior of others.
The world could use some more Marys. Both the Mary in the Bible and the little girl who gave an Academy-Award-winning performance in that Christmas pageant. For it is the Marys of the world who allow Christ's love to be born on earth---even in the midst of chaos and brokenness. Mary is the one who says, "Let it be with me according to your word."---instead of according to the frenzy surrounding me. This Christmas season, I am going to try to be more like Mary. Even if the miracle of the Christmas story doesn't unfold seamlessly or perfectly in my life, I am going to fix my gaze upon the Christ child.
May God bless each of us with the willingness and courage to gaze upon the promise of Christ throughout the Advent Season. For the miracle of Christmas comes not from directing others to behave in a way that pleases us. The miracle of Christmas comes from pointing our gaze toward the manger of divine love, no matter how badly others are acting. So come, let us adore him so that God's gifts of peace, love and joy can unfold on earth.
One unforgettable occasion, a little boy was supposed to read the prophesy from Isaiah 11:1-10 filled with beautiful promises such as, "The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them." Instead of reading Isaiah's promise, the child read the same verses from the book of Daniel (Lord only knows why). So as the baby Jesus doll laid in the manger, the narrator read, "At that time, I Daniel, had been mourning for three weeks. I had eaten no rich food, no meat or wine had entered my mouth, and I had not anointed myself at all for the full three weeks. . . My strength left me, and my complexion grew deathly pale, I retained no strength. . .I fell into a trance, face to the ground."
Mortified as the director, I felt my strength leave me and my complexion must have grown deathly pale. I sat in the front pew wishing that I could fall into a trance, face to the ground, but no such luck was to be had that Christmas Eve. In fact, Joseph, obviously bored with Mary and the baby, went to go hang out with his far more interesting friends, the shepherds. The shepherds had learned that one could "hook" an angel with their shepherd hooks and so they tormented the angels behind them. There was no peace in that Bethlehem scene. Just pushing and shoving amongst the angels and shepherds, a Joseph that had lost his focus, and a narrator reading words of doom instead of promise. The only exception to the nightmare was Mary. Sweet, amazing Mary somehow managed to ignore the frenzy around her to stare intently at the Madame Alexander baby doll as if it were truly the baby Jesus. Though I do not remember the child's name, I have never forgotten her inspiring tenacity. It was a Christmas gift that has returned to me each year.
The image of that lone child surrounded by a wild cast of characters portrays God's call to each of us during the Christmas season. We listen for Christ's promise, even when words of doom are proclaimed by a misguided soul. We keep our focus even if someone who is supposed to stand beside us decides to wander off into mischief. We remain calm and keep our balance as we kneel before prince of peace, instead of getting "hooked" by the bad behavior of others.
The world could use some more Marys. Both the Mary in the Bible and the little girl who gave an Academy-Award-winning performance in that Christmas pageant. For it is the Marys of the world who allow Christ's love to be born on earth---even in the midst of chaos and brokenness. Mary is the one who says, "Let it be with me according to your word."---instead of according to the frenzy surrounding me. This Christmas season, I am going to try to be more like Mary. Even if the miracle of the Christmas story doesn't unfold seamlessly or perfectly in my life, I am going to fix my gaze upon the Christ child.
May God bless each of us with the willingness and courage to gaze upon the promise of Christ throughout the Advent Season. For the miracle of Christmas comes not from directing others to behave in a way that pleases us. The miracle of Christmas comes from pointing our gaze toward the manger of divine love, no matter how badly others are acting. So come, let us adore him so that God's gifts of peace, love and joy can unfold on earth.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Dog Blog
Nothing lifts my spirits more than a long walk with my dogs. Unfortunately, due to my hectic schedule such walks are not always consistent. Nonetheless, my two Labrador Retrievers are wild with happiness when the leashes appear. Our dogs don't scold me and demand to know why this hasn't happened sooner. They don't sulk and refuse to leave the house because we didn't go when they wanted. They don't look at me condescendingly as if to say, "Well you giant couch potato, why even bother to get in shape now?" No, instead of negativity, they exude unbridled joy with electric wagging tails and drool-filled panting. Life is never so good for them as when the leashes come out---except of course meal time.
Dogs are present oriented, and they can teach us how to enjoy our daily walk with God. When we do not have time for self care, we often beat ourselves up with personal criticism. It's easy to think, "I haven't exercised in a month (or a week or year) why bother now?" Likewise, if we have fallen out of the habit of daily prayer and meditation, it is hard to savor the wonders of God's love. We are too busy focusing on how we don't pray and meditate the right way---as if there is such a thing. We focus on what we didn't do yesterday and what we probably won't do tomorrow. Instead of regretting the past or dreading the future, we would do well to follow the example of dogs. Let go of the past. Stop worrying about the future. Celebrate the moment.
Perhaps the next time we are feeling down, we can pull out a leash and take a walk in a new direction. OK, maybe not a leash, but some tangible object that instantly inspires a renewed enthusiasm for life. For some, that may be a phone call to a good friend, or work in the garden. Others may find themselves smiling at a child's photo or children at play. Still others may cling to a favorite Bible verse with its promise of love and strength. Everyone has something to help capture the wonder of the present moment. The trick is finding that something and focusing on every-day miracles---like a walk with your dogs. For when you face in the direction of joy, you are more likely to find it.
Daily Challenge: Celebrate the Gift of Today.
God has made everything beautiful in its time; moreover God has put a sense of past and future into their minds, yet they cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to end. I know that there is nothing better for them than to be happy and enjoy themselves as long as they shall live. Ecclesiastes 3:11&12
Dear God, help us to live this day as if Christ is walking right beside us granting us the love, strength and courage we need to live well and be well in your world, Amen.
Dogs are present oriented, and they can teach us how to enjoy our daily walk with God. When we do not have time for self care, we often beat ourselves up with personal criticism. It's easy to think, "I haven't exercised in a month (or a week or year) why bother now?" Likewise, if we have fallen out of the habit of daily prayer and meditation, it is hard to savor the wonders of God's love. We are too busy focusing on how we don't pray and meditate the right way---as if there is such a thing. We focus on what we didn't do yesterday and what we probably won't do tomorrow. Instead of regretting the past or dreading the future, we would do well to follow the example of dogs. Let go of the past. Stop worrying about the future. Celebrate the moment.
Perhaps the next time we are feeling down, we can pull out a leash and take a walk in a new direction. OK, maybe not a leash, but some tangible object that instantly inspires a renewed enthusiasm for life. For some, that may be a phone call to a good friend, or work in the garden. Others may find themselves smiling at a child's photo or children at play. Still others may cling to a favorite Bible verse with its promise of love and strength. Everyone has something to help capture the wonder of the present moment. The trick is finding that something and focusing on every-day miracles---like a walk with your dogs. For when you face in the direction of joy, you are more likely to find it.
Daily Challenge: Celebrate the Gift of Today.
God has made everything beautiful in its time; moreover God has put a sense of past and future into their minds, yet they cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to end. I know that there is nothing better for them than to be happy and enjoy themselves as long as they shall live. Ecclesiastes 3:11&12
Dear God, help us to live this day as if Christ is walking right beside us granting us the love, strength and courage we need to live well and be well in your world, Amen.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
The Road To Emmaus
Luke 24:13-35
When Jesus rose from the dead, he appeared among his closest followers, but they did not recognize him. In their mind's eye, Jesus was a dead man in a grave where they remembered him. All hope was gone. When he appeared to Mary, she mistook him for the gardener. When he appeared to Cleopas and his friend, they thought he was a clueless stranger. Mary didn't recognized Jesus until he called her by name. The travelers on the Road to Emmaus didn't recognize him until Jesus broke the bread at dinner.
If you live long enough, you are going to travel the Road to Emmaus. It is the road you are forced to take when your heart is broken and your dreams for the future are crushed. It's the road you travel when a relationship ends, a job is lost or a loved one dies. It is lonely, hopeless and terrifying because you cannot recognize that God is still with you. That's the Road to Emmaus.
Jesus walked that road with his followers whether they realized it or not. When we trudge through seasons of grief and pain, we probably will not see that Jesus travels with us. Jesus allowed the two disciples to pour out their feelings of despair as they walked along. Instead of embracing them with words of comfort, Jesus slapped them with divine truth. "How foolish you are! How slow of heart to believe all the prophets have declared."
When they arrived at their destination the weary travelers beg Jesus to stay for dinner. At the table, when the talking and walking had come to an end and all was quiet, Jesus took the bread, blessed it, broke it and gave it to them. Suddenly Cleopas and his friend saw that Jesus was always with them. The Road that seemed to lead only to suffering and pain, actually led to the joy of a new beginning.
Jesus continues to call us by name today. He takes us as he took that loaf of bread at the table with his disciples. He takes us in his hands of love. He blesses us with a future we never dreamed possible. He breaks us from past regret and failure and gives us love to share with the world.
When you stumble along your Road to Emmaus, keep the faith. Remember that God walks with us even if we cannot see a divine presence. Even when life makes no sense and it is a struggle to keep going, don't give up. For the day will come when you hear God's loving voice calling your name. You will feel Christ's hands as they take you, bless you, break you from the past and give you hope to share with the world. That's the miracle of Easter. That the Road to Emmaus doesn't have to lead you to despair but can actually lead you to the miracle of new life.
May we keep the faith in our travels through God's world.
Weekly Challenge: Trust that God is with you, even when you cannot recognize him.
Remember that God longs to:
take you in his hands,
bless you with a future,
break you from past hurt
and give you love to share with the world.
When Jesus rose from the dead, he appeared among his closest followers, but they did not recognize him. In their mind's eye, Jesus was a dead man in a grave where they remembered him. All hope was gone. When he appeared to Mary, she mistook him for the gardener. When he appeared to Cleopas and his friend, they thought he was a clueless stranger. Mary didn't recognized Jesus until he called her by name. The travelers on the Road to Emmaus didn't recognize him until Jesus broke the bread at dinner.
If you live long enough, you are going to travel the Road to Emmaus. It is the road you are forced to take when your heart is broken and your dreams for the future are crushed. It's the road you travel when a relationship ends, a job is lost or a loved one dies. It is lonely, hopeless and terrifying because you cannot recognize that God is still with you. That's the Road to Emmaus.
Jesus walked that road with his followers whether they realized it or not. When we trudge through seasons of grief and pain, we probably will not see that Jesus travels with us. Jesus allowed the two disciples to pour out their feelings of despair as they walked along. Instead of embracing them with words of comfort, Jesus slapped them with divine truth. "How foolish you are! How slow of heart to believe all the prophets have declared."
When they arrived at their destination the weary travelers beg Jesus to stay for dinner. At the table, when the talking and walking had come to an end and all was quiet, Jesus took the bread, blessed it, broke it and gave it to them. Suddenly Cleopas and his friend saw that Jesus was always with them. The Road that seemed to lead only to suffering and pain, actually led to the joy of a new beginning.
Jesus continues to call us by name today. He takes us as he took that loaf of bread at the table with his disciples. He takes us in his hands of love. He blesses us with a future we never dreamed possible. He breaks us from past regret and failure and gives us love to share with the world.
When you stumble along your Road to Emmaus, keep the faith. Remember that God walks with us even if we cannot see a divine presence. Even when life makes no sense and it is a struggle to keep going, don't give up. For the day will come when you hear God's loving voice calling your name. You will feel Christ's hands as they take you, bless you, break you from the past and give you hope to share with the world. That's the miracle of Easter. That the Road to Emmaus doesn't have to lead you to despair but can actually lead you to the miracle of new life.
May we keep the faith in our travels through God's world.
Weekly Challenge: Trust that God is with you, even when you cannot recognize him.
Remember that God longs to:
take you in his hands,
bless you with a future,
break you from past hurt
and give you love to share with the world.
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