1st Tuesday in Advent

1st week in Advent -- Tuesday                                John 1:6-9

                                    Candle-Power

Advent --

the season of light,

season of candles.

Candles, once lighted,

fill the room

with gentle, tender light,

pierce the darkness,

and cause shadows to dance with joy.

Candles fill our churches,

flicker from our Advent wreathes.

Candles somehow find a place in our hearts:

a place for joy,

for love,

for dancing,

for God.

Lord Jesus,

Light of the world:

Rekindle in our hearts

the candle of your love,

And let it burn long,

and warm,

and strong.

Forever.

Amen.

1st Monday in Advent

1st week in Advent -- Monday                        Galatians 4:4-7

                        Waiting:  An Advent Prayer

Waiting . . .

Lord, I=m tired of waiting:

waiting for the next appointment

waiting for school to get out

waiting for the 4:30 time-clock

or the 6:02 to the city

waiting for Christmas finally to get here.

It seems that waiting

is what I most often do -

waiting to feel closer to You,

waiting for my prayer life to mature,

waiting to be Aspiritual.@

I wait for others to do what they should,

even when I cannot do what I know I must.

I am tired of waiting, Lord.

I have become impatient with my impatience!

So, during Advent,

slow me down, Lord.

Let me drink deeply the sweet water

of your love, your presence.

Let me rest awhile

in the sea of your grace.

And let me patiently learn

the art of waiting; knowing that,

In the fullness of time,

your will will be done.

Amen.

A Tale of Contrasts

Scene #1 -
For the past three days, I have had the privilege and joy of serving as the parliamentarian of the Immigration Issues Committee of the 2012 General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.).  54  teaching and ruling elders spent concentrated time in prayer, dialogue, and discernment about 11 different matters that were proposed for action by the General Assembly.  Okay, so this was not as controversial as how one defines marriage (another committee dealt with that one), but immigration is not an uncontroversial issue in our country.  Right?  Yet these 54 commissioners and delegates, from across the country and around the world, worked together... together... to address these issues.  Two things happened at the close of the committee's time together.  First, one of the leadership team members said, "I know that the members of this committee come from different theological perspectives, but I honestly could not tell you who was on which side of the theological spectrum.  Everyone worked respectfully and well together.  It was amazing."  Second, at the end of the committee's time together, the Young Adult Advisory Delegates on the committee presented me and the other members of the leadership team with flowers.  They had gone out at lunch and spent their own money to bring us flowers.  They felt so valued and so heard that they wanted to express their appreciation.  This, too, was amazing.

Scene #2 -
On Sunday afternoon, teaching elder Tara McCabe was confirmed as the Vice-Moderator of the General Assembly.  She is a person of deep faith, and has been a colleague and friend of the Moderator for several years, even though they hold very different theological positions on many issues, including how one defines marriage.  This afternoon, the Rev. McCabe spoke to the Assembly, and resigned as Vice-Moderator, citing the personal and vitriolic cyber-attacks on her, her beliefs, her faith, and her convictions.  Rather than continue to be a focus of a few groups within the Church, and allow their attacks to become more and more divisive, she decided to resign.  In addressing her resignation, the Moderator, Neal Presa, bemoaned the "poisonous atmosphere" created by those who perpetuate such actions... which things are incompatible with being a part of the Church of Jesus Christ.

Within 24 hours, I experienced these two very different, contrasting things.  May we learn from the folks on the committee I served, and especially from the young adults there.  And may God have mercy on the divisiveness that so many - on either end of the theological or political spectrum - choose to perpetuate.

Help in grieving?

I just finished watching an incredibly powerful speech by Vice-President Biden to families of troops who had been killed.  Now, our VP is known for doing amazing things in speeches... though those things are often embarrassing, right?  However, this speech was as far from that as possible.

Biden spoke to these grieving families about grief, and specifically about how he dealt with his own grief when, as a 29-year-old newly-elected United States Senator, he got a phone call telling him that his wife and daughter were killed in a traffic accident, and they didn't know if his sons would survive or not.  The Vice-President was truly amazing in this speech.  He was vulnerable.  He was open.  He was candid.  He was compassionate.  He was honest.  He was hopeful.

However, he also said something else that grabbed my attention.  He talked about how, even now, his current family gathers every December 18, the anniversary of that tragic accident, and has a funeral mass said for his deceased wife and daughter.  When I heard him say that, my "Protestant brain" began doing what we Protestants always have done... protested!  (Hence the name, yes?)  The whole theology behind a "funeral mass" is certainly biblically questionable, at least from my perspective.  However, in the context of all that Biden was saying, it suddenly occurred to me to look at this practice of our Roman Catholic sisters and brothers in a different light.

Anniversaries of deaths are difficult.  I still can vividly remember March 29, 1962, and all of the events that evening surrounding my Mom's suicide.  I was 10 years old.  Every March 29 I remember... even all these decades later.  It's not painful now, but I remember.  Every July 4 I remember that it was my Mom's birthday. She would have been 97 years old this year if she were still alive.  I remember.  How helpful would it be to have some liturgical means by which to translate those memories into opportunities to express faith?  How helpful would it be to have some vehicle by which to wrap those memories in an act of worship?

Maybe a "funeral mass" doesn't make sense in my theological understandings of things... but it makes sense to me spiritually and emotionally.  Is there something we Protestants might do that is true to our beliefs while still providing some sensible help in grieving?  I think there must be... and I think I'll either find it or write it.

What would Jesus do? No, really!

I'm guilty of at times trivializing people who have a passion for WWJD.  You know - What Would Jesus Do?  It just sounds simplistic, almost gimmicky.  It's too easily put on a T-shirt, poster, bumper sticker, or wrist band.  Maybe that's what feels so much like a gimmick to me.  I'm not sure.

And yet, that really is what we who carry the name of Christ are supposed to do, isn't it?  Aren't we really supposed to focus in on being like Jesus?  After all, the very name, "Christian," means one who follows Christ.  In fact, it means even more than that.  One reference (yes, even though it was on Wikipedia, I looked up the citation) said this:

"The Greek word Χριστιανός (christianos)—meaning 'follower of Christ'—comes from Χριστός (christos)—meaning 'anointed one'—with an adjectival ending borrowed from Latin to denote adhering to, or even belonging to, as in slave ownership."

So how serious are we if we say we are Christian?  Do we really believe that we "belong to" Jesus?  If so - or even if we are anywhere close to that understanding of what it means to be a Christian - then our goal should be to live like Jesus did... to follow in his paths... to pay attention to the things in which he was involved... to adhere to his teachings.  So, yes, "What Would Jesus Do" really is the key question, isn't it?

I lay all this out because of something that struck me as I read an article today about the Vatican cracking down on the predominant group of women religious (i.e., nuns) in the United States.  The report concludes that the group has "serious doctrinal problems."  It then goes on to list the many "problems" that the nuns have, which need to be addressed and corrected.  Among other things, the Vatican has concluded that the group has focused its work "too much on poverty and economic injustice, while keeping 'silent' on abortion and same-sex marriage."  (See the article in the New York Times:  http://goo.gl/Dmt2V).

So, let me ask the question again:  What would Jesus do?  Well, what did Jesus do?  Let me think... Did he talk a lot about "poverty?"  Yes, absolutely... as does all of the Bible!  "Economic injustice?"  Again, yes.  "Abortion?"  Hmmm.... nope.... not a word.  How about "same-sex marriage?"  Again, Jesus was silent on that one.  So the bishops want the nuns to focus more on issues that Jesus did not address, and downplay issues that he clearly did address.

I vote with the nuns on this one!  But then again... what do I know?  I'm just a Presbyterian.

A simple baptism

28 years ago today was also a Sunday.  I preached that morning, as per usual.  However, then it was time to baptize a little boy.  However, instead of assuming the usual position behind the baptismal font, I had taken off my robe, joined my wife, carried our four-and-a-half month old son, and stood in front of the baptismal font.  You see, my primary role that day was not "pastor."  It was a more ancient role, a more honorable role, a more important role.  My primary role at that moment on that Sunday morning was "Dad."  I answered the questions with my wife, whereby we promised "to provide nurture and guidance within the community of faith until the child is ready to make a personal profession of faith and assume the responsibility of active church membership." (Presbyterian Church's Book of Order, W-2.3014).  A colleague then spoke the ancient words as he put water on my son's head.  I was teary-eyed.

I long had had questions about baptism... specifically about the different understandings of so-called "believer's baptism" (that is, being baptized as a result of one's own profession of faith in Jesus Christ) and "infant baptism."  It wasn't until I was in college and at a retreat that someone explained the Presbyterian/Reformed understanding of baptism to me... or at least explained it in such a way that it made sense to me.

Baptism is not about the faith of the one being baptized.  Baptism is not about what we say; it is about what God says!  And God says, "This person belongs to me.  I surround and fill this person with my love and grace.  I will be this one's God... forever!"  My tradition's understanding of baptism is that this is the New Testament ritual that is equivalent to what Calvin and the creeds called the Old Testament "sacrament" of circumcision.  A Jewish boy could grow up to be a faithful, observant Jew, or he could grow up wanting nothing to do with his faith or his tradition.  However, all of his life, at least a couple of times a day, that Jewish boy would look down and know that he was inseparably a part of God's covenant, inseparably a part of the community of God's people, inseparably a part of God's love.  Baptism is obviously much more inclusive than circumcision... since it's for girls as well as boys!  However, the rest of the symbolism is the same.  In that simple act of placing water, of praying, of reciting ancient words, all of us present that morning were reminded that God's covenant, the community of God's people, and God's love all were extended to my son.  Amazing!  Each time I am blessed to officiate at someone's baptism, each time I place my hand in water and put it on someone's head, each time I utter those prayers and recite those ancient words, I am reminded - powerfully and deeply reminded - of the wonder and mystery tied up in this sacramental act.

28 years ago today my older son was baptized.  26 years ago this August 24 my younger son was baptized.  60 years ago last December 16 I was baptized.  I remember and celebrate these dates of our baptisms because it helps me remember and celebrate and be thankful for the covenant of love within which God embraces me... embraces my sons... embraces us all.  They are dates worth remembering!

Do you know when you were baptized?  Do you possibly remember your own baptism?  Do you want to be baptized because you never were baptized when you were younger?  The date is worth remembering... the act is worth celebrating.  Such an amazing act wrapped up in an ancient sacrament, all in a simple baptism.

Come on in!  The water's fine!

I get SO angry...

So, Rush Limbaugh got to me again.  I hate when I let him get under my skin.  It's not that I listen to him... I gave that up years ago.  A church member and I were talking about the news once at a Men's Breakfast from church, and when I mentioned listening to Morning Edition on NPR, he chuckled, shook his head, and said, "Steve, you ought to balance that out by listening to Rush."  I also chuckled, shook my head, and admitted, "Well, I probably should balance out my news sources, but I can't listen to Rush.  He's just plain mean."

And so His Meanness once again did it, and, since it has been reported so widely, I read his comments, and, as I said, I allowed him to get to me.  When he called Georgetown University Law School student Sandra Fluke a "slut" and a "prostitute" after her testimony before Congress regarding funding for contraception, I was appalled, stunned, and, yes, angry... SO angry!  Didn't we all learn as children that you don't call other people names???  Of course, I guess being polite and respectful doesn't sell advertising time in the media!  But still... I mean, come on, Rush!

Then on Thursday he said he wouldn't apologize for his remarks.  Then he said the same thing on Friday.  Something must have happened, though, because today he apologized.  Well, he sort of apologized.  But then he added that he hadn't meant his words as a "personal attack" on Ms. Fluke.  Really???  You call a woman a slut and you didn't mean it as something personal???  And so that got me angry all over again!

Why is it that I allow someone like Limbaugh to get me so riled up?  Perhaps - and, good Lord, I hate to admit this! - perhaps it's because I see so many of us, myself included, in Rush.  Ouch!  Oh, I succeed most often in not calling other people names... at least I succeed in not doing that out loud.  Yet in my heart... well, there's the proverbial rub.  In my heart I think that Limbaugh is a jerk, a misogynistic and mean-spirited bastard.  And then I realize that I am no different than he.  And that does, indeed, make me mad... not at Rush, but at myself, at my own failings, at my own failure to rise above the fray, at my inability to see Christ in "the other," even in Rush Limbaugh.

Rats!  So now I have something else to work on within myself during Lent!

Please, Lord Jesus:  help me love all of your children... even Rush... even myself.  Amen.