A Meditation in Times of Change

Recently, I brought my mother back to her home in Southeast Ohio.  It’s a bit of a drive to her home and along the way we passed through miles and miles of rural America. I was fortunate to have two beautiful fall days to travel the miles to Southeast Ohio and back to my home in Chicago. The sky was a pale blue, not a cloud in the sky. The temperatures were fluctuating between 65 and 70 degrees, perfect traveling weather. There was no precipitation and the wind was blowing just enough to remind us that autumn had arrived in all its grandeur and beauty. As we traveled, we could not help, but notice the many fields already harvested by America’s farmers. When we didn’t see harvested fields, we saw ripened corn and beans waiting for the teeth of the combines to harvest America’s food.My travels raised some themes for me in times of transition and change.   

As the last rows of beans are harvested and the last ear of corn plucked from its stalk, there is a quiet satisfaction and a sense of pride in what has just been done. The farmer’s heart is filled with gratitude for the hard work, the good year, and an abiding faith that knows that the harvest was only possible because of the God’s abundant blessings. This is a season of gratitude, a time when we can see the hand of God moving us always forward into a new future where our hunger and thirst is satisfied. 

 

As my eyes survey the fields of mid-America at this time of year, I cannot help but notice that some fields are still waiting to be harvested. The corn and the beans have dried up and they stand lifeless in the fields, moving only when the wind blows across the field, rustling the dried and worn out leaves on its stalk, breaking the silence and reminding us of unfinished work.  When I think of following in the ways of Christ, I can observe the hard work of faithful disciples who have worked diligently and with passion to bring God's heavenly realm to earth,  and my heart rejoices. Yet there are still issues that continue to trouble my spirits and remind me that there is still corn standing in the fields and there are still beans to be harvested. In times of transition, God calls us to remain open to the Holy Spirit and to see with new eyes and hear with new ears, the work that still  needs to be done. There are still rows of corn and beans that  need to be harvested. Yes, we still have work to do, but it will get done and it will be done in God’s time.  

As the stalks of corn stand proudly in their fields awaiting the final harvest, I am reminded that even when the stalks become brittle and fragile and the leaves brown, wilted and dying, there is still a kernel filled with life. Should that kernel fall into the ground, forgotten by the harvester and separated from its original source of life, God will gently cover it and keep it safe for a new beginning at another time. One day this kernel will find new life again, and so will we. 

As stewards of the Christian story of life, death, and resurrection, we are vessels of hope and possibility. The Church is not a building, strong and mighty, it is a people fragile and broken. Like the dried corn stalks blowing in the autumn breeze, we bear within ourselves a kernel of life and no matter where we find ourselves, God will use us. God will breathe new life into the stories of faith that have inspired us and given us strength to find new expressions of faith. This is God’s time. In this season between the warmth of summer and the cold of winter, may we be the kernel of life that re-imagines the possibilities and may we move into our future with boldness, confidence, and resurrection hope. This is the gift we bring in times of change and possibility.

What Calypso taught me about trust

Last fall, I adopted a long-haired female kitten from a nearby farmer who knew that this particular stray was different than their other cats. She was so friendly, so cheery, and loved being with humans. She may have been dumped near the farm by someone who just didn’t need another female cat in the barn. She could have been somebody’s pet before she strayed off and found another unsuspecting cat lover, or somewhere along the way, she could have been separated from her mother and her siblings.  Since little Calypso (aka. Queen Bee) isn’t able to tell her story; it’s hard to know for sure from where she had come. The next time the farm family saw me, she pleaded for my help to find this sweet, long-haired female kitten a forever home. Foolishly, I agreed. I did find a home for Miss Calypso, but it wasn’t someone else’s forever home, it was my forever home.

The day I had agreed to adopt the kitten, we were strangers. I picked her up and while I stood talking to the farmer and her family, Miss Calypso was content. She enjoyed my attention. She enjoyed being in my arms and she soaked up all the love she could receive from this human who had a really big place in his heart for cats. This lasted for a while, until I began my walk home. As I was walking toward my house, I noticed that the further I got away from the place that had been Calypso’s home, the more familiar my skin had become with little kitten claws. Miss Calypso sensed that something was changing and all that was once familiar was no longer the same. Her life was about to change. Her body tensed, her claws cut into my skin, and she wiggled constantly in my arms trying to escape and return to that which was familiar to her. The real issue for Miss Calypso was that she didn’t know if she could trust me, and so, she became frightened.

I brought her into my house.  I knew that she was not going to be an outdoor cat, but rather she would live inside my home. As soon as I set her free, she ran to the closest hiding place and remained there for what seemed to be many hours. All the while, she wasn’t sure she could trust me. Likewise, I didn’t trust that she would be a good indoor cat. I didn’t know if she would know how to use a litter box. What kind of food would be most healthy for a growing, indoor kitten? I thought about fleas, bugs, ticks, and other airborne diseases that would afflict outdoor cats. Did she have rabies? What about spaying and de-clawing? All of these were my questions. These seemed to be logical, rational questions for anyone considering the adoption of a once outdoor, farm cat. However, in reality they were questions about trust. Could I trust Calypso or would things not work out and I would be stuck with an unhappy, untrustworthy cat? In her own cat mind, she had the same questions about me. Both of us had to learn to trust one another.

Psalm 23 is among the most requested scriptures I receive for funerals. This beloved Psalm is also a song about trust – trusting in the ‘shepherd’. “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want…” No, it’s not statement of rejection – it’s a statement that rejoices in abundance. Because the shepherd is near, the sheep will have no wants – the shepherd will provide everything for sheep. This is trust. Learning to trust begins with an unshakable faith in our shepherd and guide, Jesus Christ. If we are to rekindle trust with one another, we need to begin with a faith in the transforming power of the resurrection that gives us a reason to believe that we have a future. Even amid life's complicated questions, our anxieties and our brokenness, the shepherd prepares a meal for us.This is a test of trust. Isn't it amazing what our pets can teach us? Thank you Calypso, you have taught me a great lesson. 

Appetite: A Servant's heart

Pre-edited New Century Article that was published in Christian Century, by Daniel Sather

(Reflection on a Youth Mission Trip to Washington UCC, Cincinnati, Ohio, 2014)

The pastor said, “You have to have a servant’s heart if you are going to do this kind of work.”

It was our first youth mission trip and I wasn’t sure if the youth from a mid-size, rural and mainline congregation had the appetite for inner-city ministry. Will they really have a servant’s heart, aching to make a difference in the lives of people, or will they long for their more insulated existence far from the struggles of inner-city children?  I wondered if the youth would have the ears to hear the cries of the children or if their hunger to return to healthier, more stable families would deafen their ears to the children we were serving. I wondered if living in a neighborhood where drugs and violent crimes are a daily occurrence, would repress the heart of a servant.  

The children we would be serving are often the victims of breaking news.  The neighborhood in which they reside would be the setting for the lead articles in local newspapers or the topic of popular news magazines that analyze the terrible living conditions in America’s cities. The children with whom we would be sharing our day would be the very ones who are attending failing schools and/or arrive home to empty cupboards.  This is a neighborhood where being arrested is a badge of honor, and young teens are having babies. I wondered if we would be emotionally ready to be immersed into this kind of ministry. 

“You have to have a servant’s heart to do this kind of work.” That comment gurgled in my stomach as we made our journey to the inner-city, each one of us carrying a smorgasbord of feelings, expectations, and perceptions.

We arrived with butterflies in our stomachs.  Soon we were immersed in the lives of these young children who in their short lives had witnessed more terrible things than the participating adults from our mid-size rural congregation. We shared many meals together. We were partners in a game of dominoes and were chosen to read any number of books. We were swimming buddies on swimming day and friends on our field trip to the zoo. Soon our middle class values were set aside; our lives, for a time were at one with those for whom we were called to serve. Before long, through daily worship, late night conversations, prayer, and sensitivity, ears were unstopped, eyes were opened, and our day was not what we wanted for ourselves but what we wanted for the children with whom we were entrusted.

The faces that would greet us each morning pricked our conscious and teased our taste buds.  Soon the smorgasbord of disparaging and fractured expectations we were feeling earlier in the week were forgotten and our hearts were being shaped in new ways.  Our insulated hearts began to feel and the unstopped ears began to hear the words spoken by Jesus, “Truly, just as you did to one of the least of these my family, you did it to me.” (Mt. 25:40).

I watched as one of the youth divided her portion of food with the hungry child that was sitting near to her. The rules prohibited the children from getting a second cup of juice and I saw another youth quietly slip over to the volunteer table, pour a glass of juice and gave it to a thirsty child. Our appetites once repressed by anxiety and uncertainty hungered to serve another day.

Our week of serving the children in the inner-city came to an end much too soon. As the last of the children left for their homes, we said our good-byes, and we gathered for our final worship. As part of our closing worship, we selected a small item from a box of discarded game pieces, numerous marbles, lost puzzle pieces, broken pencils, torn pages from books, and several other tokens that could represent our week. We each selected an item from the box and were invited by the pastor to share our token and to tell others why we selected this item. Much was shared; but one observation stood out to me more than the others. A youth selected a puzzle piece explaining that this puzzle piece would remind her of this experience and how these children would now be a part of her spiritual journey.  “This experience”, she said, “would always remain a part of her heart – it is now, an important piece of this journey I am on.”

It was a fitting end to an incredible week. We left with a servant’s heart and an appetite for more, hungering for more opportunities to be the hands and feet of God. 

Good Friday Reflection 2: It is Finished

As the cry, “It is finished!” is heard from the cross, I am remembering Jesus’ encounter with Zacchaeus. He had dinner at the home of Zacchaeus and at the end of this ‘short’ story, Jesus says, “Today salvation has come to this house…For the Son of Man came to seek out and save the lost.” Luke 19:9, 10. As he cries from the cross, “It is finished”, I am remembering the parable of the lost sheep and Jesus says, “Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost…” Luke 15:4. In that same chapter, the woman rejoices over the lost coin that she found and a lost son is reunited with his family and the father said, “…we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.” Luke 15:32. It is finished! “The prophet says, “…And the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.” Isaiah 53:6

From the Hebrew text, we know about the ritual of the ‘scapegoat’. “Then Aaron shall lay both his hands on the head of the live goat, and confess over it all the iniquities of the people of Israel, and all their transgressions, all their sins, putting them on the head of the goat, and sending it away into the wilderness.” Leviticus 16:21. It is finished! “All we like sheep have gone astray; we have all turned to our own way, and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.” Isaiah 53:6. Jesus the Lamb of God. Jesus the scapegoat for our iniquities. Jesus has come for the lost and hopeless, the rejected and the shunned. He comes for shepherds and kings, a prophetess and a priest. The blind see, the lame walk, and the lepers are restored to wholeness. The lost have been found and the dead have been raised to new life. Jesus comes for you and for me. His body is sacrificed on the Cross of our sins and it bears the ‘iniquities of us all’. “Father, remove this cup from me; not my will but your be done” Luke 22:42. God’s will is done. God’s plan is complete. It is finished! And darkness falls over all the earth.

Prayer:  

Thank you God! Your will is done. I am humbled. Be my strength and never permit me to forget what you have done to return me to your fold. It is finished! Thank you God!

Good Friday Reflection 1: "Woman, here is your son!"

The Crucifixion, El Greco, painted 1596-1600

It would seem that everyone else abandoned Jesus. There were some woman and the disciple, ‘the one whom Jesus loved’  who remained. How terrible it is to lose a child, especially through a government sponsored execution such as the crucifixion.  I wonder what Mary was thinking? Was she remembering the day that Jesus was born – that day when the angels sang, the rich and the poor gathered at his manger – the day God shone a heavenly spotlight on that night when, for a moment, all the world knew peace. Perhaps she  remembered the blessing of Simeon on Jesus' dedication day, “…For my eyes have seen your salvation, which you prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel” Luke 2:30-32. Could it be that Simeon’s troubling comment to Mary and Joseph was finally make sense to her? He said, “This child is destined for the falling and rising of many in Israel…a sword will pierce your own soul too.” Luke 2:34, 2:35. Could this moment be sword that pierced the soul of Mary, the mother of Jesus?

Here, in this moment, when Mary was trying to understand all that had come to past, her son was thinking about her. In the midst of his suffering, his ridicule and his humiliation,  Jesus makes accommodations for his mother. “Woman, here is your son…”  It is hard to know who this ‘one’ is, the ‘one whom Jesus loved’, but it must have been someone Jesus could trust enough to protect his mother. He was, after all, the only disciple who remained – all the others had disappeared into the shadows of the night. “Here is your mother…” Here at the foot of cross, Jesus provided a safe place for his mother to remember the memories that she long ago, pondered in her heart. Even as he neared his last breath, Jesus was thinking of the people he loved and making sure that all the details of living were taken care of in these final hours. 

Where is your heart today? What,  in your life,  must you attend to in these days? The day is far spent, the night will soon come. What business remains unfinished for you? Will your faith be strong enough to endure the night? What about tomorrow? There is still time to attend to the things that remain unfinished. Even as Jesus hung dying on the cross, he attended to those whom he loved. He will attend to you too. Open your hearts and receive God’s grace, for God is still working miracles in our lives. May it be so with you today?

Prayer: 

God be present with me. Help me prioritize those things that matter and try not to be distracted by the things that do no matter. Help me through this dark and lonely day. Amen.