Reflection for the Second Week of Lent

Jesus answered Nicodemus, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.” Nicodemus said to Jesus, “How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?” (John 3:3-4 NRSV)

Before I became a father, men who had traveled the parenting road before me described the birthing process as “magical.” I now know what they meant. You see, “magical” is a euphemism. It’s a kind of code they used because, if they had described it for what it was, I might have been scared off. Don’t get me wrong, “magical” is the perfect word to describe it. “Magical” is so spot-on because it only tells the soon-to-be father that it’s important, perhaps even holy. And anything else about the event that could be described probably shouldn’t be. It’s a way of saying, “Be there; be ready for the mysterious; don’t run away; and you’ll figure out the rest as you go.”

And I suppose, if the newly-born had the capacity to understand those trembling fathers’ words, “magical” might well describe all of the baby’s following days as well. The rest of our days can be pretty “magical” too, if you think about it. Of course, we don’t like to think about it, do we? We like to think that tomorrow will be much like yesterday, and today will hold no surprises. We like to think that the rain that falls from the sky only brings life and pretty flowers. We like to think that the earth beneath our feet is there to stay. We like to think that our days of being born – with all their terror, pain, and ugliness – are far behind us. But some days are “magical.” Some days, the skies take whole towns from our maps. Some days, the earth on which we are “grounded” flings us into the air like a marble on a fluffed-up sheet. Some days, we get born all over again.

When Nicodemus goes to visit Jesus under the cover of night, we get the impression that he’s testing Jesus’ kingdom out – not unlike the way we might dip a toe into a pool before going for a swim. He seems attracted to what Jesus has to offer, but he wants to approach it in a safe way. But it’s not safe. In fact it’s full-blown “magical.” One does not take a quick dip into the kingdom of God; one is born anew into it. Born like people are born: into a life of uncertainty and messiness.

For those of us who have chosen to live in Jesus’ kingdom, we must remember that it holds no promises for success, prosperity, or even safety; but it is the promise of life. We are born into a life that, although abundant and eternal, is also “magical.” So let us greet this new-born life in the spirit with which we entered into the old one: be there; be ready for the mysterious; don’t run away; and you’ll figure out the rest (by God’s Spirit) as you go.

Reflection for the First Week of Lent

So I'm cheating a bit with my first Lenten reflection, as the article below is from the latest Calvary Quarterly. But unlike a newsletter, a blog gives us an opportunity to offer feedback. I look forward to hearing from you.



I think Lent is generally self-serving. I said it.

Now, if you're wondering how I might come to describe Lent—a season beginning in ashes and “celebrated” by fasting—as self-serving, just hear me out: Lent, the “40 day” season that leads us to Easter, is often seen in the light of Easter. I mean, that's a difficult light to ignore. After all, Easter is the central celebration of our faith. The Resurrection changes everything: every moment, every interaction, every single thing we do is now seen through the lens of Resurrection. It would be ridiculous to expect that we could somehow set this lens aside for over a month. For the follower of Jesus, the Resurrection is impossible to ignore; Jesus emerging from the tomb on Easter morning changes everything... for US.

And rightly so! Don't get me wrong, the resurrection should shape every aspect of our lives. The Apostle Paul writes, “Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life” (1 Corinthians 6:4); out of his resurrected life, we now begin ours. That is life-changing good news for us. Because we have received this impossibly wonderful gift, what else could we do but live gratitude-filled lives into eternity?

And so, during Lent, we seek to reshape those lives. We seek, through self-reflection and self-sacrifice, to let God reshape our-selves into the God-serving creations that Jesus died and rose to create. And there is a lot of “self” in that; although not at all in a bad way. The end result is to make us into God-serving creatures, but to get there the “self” needs some work. Which is what makes Lent so self-serving: we are striving to be those God-centered people of Resurrection, so we use this time to do what we can to become those people.

But here's the thing: when we mentally skip ahead to what those people are supposed to be like, what do we see? We see a people who have become more and more like Jesus, don’t we? We see a people who not only act like he did, but are actually like him. We see a people who have his understanding of how the world is supposed to be; a people who share his priorities and passions; a people who love as he loved and for the same reasons. And if we know what we’re supposed to be like at the end of Lent, why not seek to begin it with that same Christ-like perspective? In other words, we know that Jesus endured the hardships that he did for the sake of others. We know that our lives are meant to take on that same devotion to others. And so, as we “endure” the solemn sacrifices and disciplines of Lent, what if we could focus our attention on someone other than ourselves?

For example, you know how the Resurrection is life-changing good news for us? Well, if becoming more Christ-like means having his same devotion to others, are we not struck by the notion that there are people in our lives every day that don’t know that news; people who don’t have the same perspective-changing joy that we have; there are people all around us every day who, though Jesus rose for them as well, do not share our Easter perspective.

And so, however you “celebrate” Lent—whatever disciplines, fasts, or acts of charity that you employ that God might mold you—may we also let those “hardships” turn our attention toward others. May we indeed better know the heart and mind of God, and in that knowledge, yearn to share the Easter joy with the world.

Another Good Question

Here's the other email conversation I've had, this time from Chantel. Like many of us, Lent was not an observed celebration in her upbringing, so she asks:

I have a few questions I was hoping you could answer for me on Lent. I work with someone, who is a devout Mormon. We are always talking about religion on the playground for some reason. Anyway, I was talking to her today about Lent and what it means to me as a Christian and specifically as a Presbyterian and I realized I don't understand Ash Wednesday and the meaning behind it. She couldn't explain the Mormon's point of view too well either so I told her to ask at her church and I would ask you. Since I started so late in life believing in Jesus and his word I feel very behind on a lot of things and feel like I have so much to learn and try to understand about the Bible and Christianity. I would appreciate any help you may have time to give to me! Thank you very much and have a beautiful day!

So I responded:

Lent is kind of an odd practice. It began as an observance in the Catholic Church, but many Protestant churches have brought it back in the hope of finding new meanings to old practices. Like Advent before Christmas, it is meant to be a season of preparation. It begins, of course, on Ash Wednesday and concludes on or the night before Easter. That period is considered "40 days," but if you are good at math you'll note that it's more than that; technically it's only 40 days if you take out the Sundays (I said it was an odd practice).

The "40" in the 40 days finds significance in several places in Scripture. For example:

• Number of days that Noah and his family endured the flood (see Genesis 7)
• Number of years the Israelites endured the wilderness (see Numbers 14:34-35)
• Number of days that Jesus endured temptation in the wilderness (see Matthew 4:1-11)

When something happens in the Bible that involves the number 40, it seems that God is trying us somehow; the people of God endure something and are better for it in the end. So for 40 days before Easter, we seek a period of testing and growth. When Jesus did it, it involved a 40 day fast (not recommended) so many have traditionally included fasting as a Lenten practice. By the way, that's why we take out the Sundays: we've given ourselves a "day off" per week to enjoy whatever we've given up. I think that's kind of silly.

Of course we Protestants like to find new meanings so, rather than giving up a thing for Lent, some have taken on practices to enhance their Lenten journey. Things like service, study, worship, etc. (if you're interested in exploring various spiritual practices, I'd recommend "Celebration of Discipline" by Richard Foster).

But to the heart of your question, Ash Wednesday: first, although I can't speak to the meaning a Mormon might find in it, I would assume that it's similar to what we might find. However, it is a deeply symbolic service and as such, the symbolism can mean a variety of things to a variety of people.

To do it properly, the ashes in Ash Wednesday come from the burnt palm leaves of the previous year's Palm Sunday. In other words, the palms that we waved to hail Jesus as our God-sent king, have become merely ashes. There is a cycle-of-life message that weighs heavy in this service. When the ashes are put on one's forehead, the pastor/priest quotes Genesis 3:19: "You are dust and to dust you will return." By the way, that's not a very nice thing to have to say to people you care about. But I think it's meant to draw us to consider throughout Lent, where we would be without Easter. We remember our sinful state and the death it brings so that we might appreciate all the more the abundant life we find on Easter morning. I have other thoughts on some less traditional Lenten ideas, but I'm putting them in my Quarterly article, so you can read it there.

I appreciate your questions and your journey and I too would love to sit down and chat with you more about these things. Don't worry so much about not understanding everything the Bible has to teach us; at its core, Christianity is simply about following Jesus. And following means simply being in relationship with him and letting that relationship transform you. And sharing it is simply introducing another to a friend.

If you have a similar thought-provoking question, I'd love to hear it. I will always ask before I post your question and I can always keep you anonymous if you'd prefer.

A Question About Prayer

Hey All, remember me? Things have been a little hectic since my last post (in September). I put up this blog as a way of talking about the work of the church in Bayfield (and beyond, I suppose). And although I think a lot about the work Christ calls us to do here, I regret that I don't write about it as much as I'd like to. (As a Lenten discipline, I plan to post something every week and I hope it becomes a habit.)

That being said, I have recently had some interesting questions posed to me via email. After thinking through and writing out my responses, it occurred to me that they kind of sounded like the stuff I ought to be posting on my blog.

So here's the first. It comes from Lisa S. (with contribution from her husband Jim). Lisa writes:

Pastor Brian, I have a question I have been pondering over for a number of years. Bear with me as I try to find the missing piece to this puzzle. The bottom line to the question is … Does the greater number of people praying for a situation affect the overall outcome? It seems like the answer should automatically be yes, but should it? What started me on my road of confusion was a comment a well known Christian man made a number of years ago when his wife was ailing from cancer. He didn’t understand how his wife, receiving hundreds if not thousands of prayers, should receive more blessings than someone else in a similar situation, but not as fortunate to have fame and notoriety. Does someone who receives more prayers get more comfort from God? So does the individual who knows only a few people and also has cancer receive less comfort? We pray to God for his will to be done, but does he change the direction of his healing because 100,000 people are praying for this individual as oppose to one? I don’t believe it for a second. Is the power of prayer the same if one person is praying or 100?

We have prayer chains. Does it help to have 5 or 50? If I thought numbers made a difference I would place an ad in the Wall Street Journal asking for prayers. If the actual number of people praying doesn’t matter than I can’t help but come to the conclusion that it isn’t about numbers. I believe in the power of prayer. Great miracles happen through prayer. It’s an expression of ones heart. Putting your troubles at Gods feet is what we as Christians do. God asks us to pray to him for the blessings we have received in our lives and those who are in need. When we pray for someone in need we too are the ones receiving blessings.

So it is not about numbers. So when we ask for prayers it’s an invitation for the individuals who are praying to be blessed and to have a relationship with God. So the prayee gets the blessing. But how does the individual in need get the blessing from God when numbers don’t matter?
I feel like I going in circles.

So I wrote:

Lisa, the questions you raise about prayer are not uncommon. I think these questions about prayer are so often asked because they are also so difficult to answer definitively. We are not God and so we're not able to fully explain why God does what God does. What troubles me most about prayer--especially about prayer for someone's healing--is that sometimes miracles do happen. Kyra is actually a good example of this: when Sherry was pregnant with Kyra, her water broke at about 19 weeks. The doctor said that nothing could be done: the amniotic sack does not heal up so the baby would eventually miscarry; so the best course of action would be to induce labor before an infection could set in. On the day of the procedure, Sherry wasn't ready. She told the doctor that they could do it at the first sign of infection, but she just couldn't do it. Meanwhile, church friends and family around the world were praying for Sherry and the baby. And as the days went by, the sack did indeed heal back up (a feat the doctor could not find other examples of) and you've met the evidence of what eventually happened.

Now comes the complicated part: explaining why this happened. To the godless, I suppose it could be rightly stated that the natural world is vastly more complex than we suppose. But it's not so simple for us. We know the privilege of a personal relationship with the God of all creation. We see that same Creator's hand in events like this... what we can't always see is why. Why did God spare my baby? Babies die in the womb all the time; why this one? Was it because so many were fervently praying for her? Maybe. Maybe it was the earnest, heartfelt nature of their prayers. For that matter, what if it were my prayers? What if God was waiting on me to finally surrender and leave everything, even my children, at the feet of God? But in the end, these are not questions I can know the answers to; and for me, that's kind of the conclusion I've come to.

For me, prayer isn't about bending God's will to conform to mine, it's about yielding my will to God's. I know that when two or more are gathered in our Savior's name, he is present in a unique way. That doesn't mean he is not present when I am alone or that he is super-present when I'm praying with a stadium filled with his followers either. It doesn't guarantee the answer to prayer that I may have been hoping for, but it is the promise of presence. I think you're absolutely right: we need prayer because God uses prayer to be present with us, if only through the comforting presence of the one-or-more kneeling next to us on our behalf.

Why do we pray for the needs of others? Because God is present with them when we do. Oh, and because sometimes miracles happen; sometimes prayer fixes our gaze on something just long enough to see the impossible made possible. But for me that's just the icing.

Lisa's response:

Excellent. This is what I was getting close to figuring out, but couldn’t grasp it. Like you said “we need prayer because God uses prayer to be present with us, if only through the comforting presence of the one-or-more kneeling next to us on our behalf”. I will reread your response in days to come and let it sink in. I will probably have more questions for you. I like the way you are able to tie it all together.

What a wonderful story of lil Kyra and how she is your miracle baby. It warmed my heart.

Then Jim chimed in with:

Great question, and great thoughts on the subject of prayer. I think, as with so many examples of Gods work, prayer is a multifaceted gem with many benefits for all involved. Probably one of the most poignant, and well worth mentioning is that after the “fall of man” God abandoned this world and gave it over to Satan. Instead of God walking with man in the cool of the evening in the garden we are called to wait on the Holy Spirit.

God still desires relationship with his people, but I think it’s like when we go onto someone’s property we generally prefer to either be invited or ask to come on to it. Although we would be capable, if we wanted to, just to trespass and barge on. I think God deeply desires relationship with his people and finds it very pleasing to be invited.

Even though there are so many more facets of this gem to be explored I think that this aspect is one that has great significance in our walk.

Please feel free to throw in your $.02 as well in the comments section. I'd love to hear from more of you on this.

Infidel!

I heard the word “infidel” used in a news story this morning and it got me thinking. Here’s how Webster’s defines it: “disbelieving Christianity or whatever may be the religion of the user of the word.” Another way to put it: we’re all infidels. No matter what we believe, we’re all infidels to someone else. We are all unfaithful to someone else’s God, by definition, if we believe in another God (and I suppose that’s especially true if you don’t believe in God at all). No way around it; you are an infidel, I am an infidel, and most importantly, they are infidels.

Some have tried philosophically to get around this uncomfortable truth by pointing out that God might not actually care which religious institution we identify with. After all, we are not God and, in just about every religious system, at least one of God’s attributes is love. So if God loves humanity, perhaps that love will outweigh whatever errors of belief we might have.

But as nice as that sounds, it unfortunately doesn’t change a thing; you are still an infidel. You are an infidel because I have The Truth: I am a follower of Jesus; you know, “The way, the truth, and the life.” I have this specific news about how to be in good standing with God and it doesn’t overtly say anything about “other paths.” I may hope that God’s love is unconditional and universal, but I would truly be an infidel if I neglected God’s plan for salvation as I have received it.

So infidels we remain. As long as we each have The Truth and our Truths disagree with each other, at least one of us is going to be an infidel.

But here’s my thought for the day: the notion of “infidel” is inherently ungodly. It’s ungodly in two senses of the word: first, it’s ungodly in that we are not God. When we declare someone else to be an infidel, we are doing so from a limited, human perspective. Although we have an obligation to God to live our lives and worship practices in a way we know is pleasing to God, we don’t actually know that the practices of others are not, in fact, pleasing to God.

But also, the notion of “infidel” is ungodly because it results in our turning our attention away from a godly life: a life lived in relationship with God. When we identify another as an infidel, it is their faith, lifestyle, and worship practices we are concerned with, not ours. Now obviously there are those who violently disagree with my thinking here, but I believe that the whole point of religion is to encourage the believer toward a deeper relationship with God. It has to do with helping each individual follower grow and sustain that relationship; concerning ourselves with how others are “not doing it right,” does not help us to be any closer to God.

Of course, even though it may be ungodly for me to concern myself with the faith practices of someone else, I am still called by God to care for that person. This is especially true if I believe I have The Truth that someone else does not have. But the question then becomes, how am I to share this Truth? Obviously, calling them an infidel has not historically been effective. No, I believe the only godly response is fidelity. We all, regardless of our religious beliefs, must remain as faithful to God as God enables us. There must not be disconnection between our lives and the God we speak about. Live what you believe with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength and let God be God.

But then, what do I know? I’m just an infidel.

Triplet Survey Results

First of all, this survey is in no way scientific. The method we’ve used is meant to help us listen for the Spirit’s leading, not to pinpoint any measurable facts or even popular opinions. Here’s what we’ve done:

• Between Christmas and Easter, nine Triplets met together a number of times. Recognizing the presence of Christ in those meetings, the groups got to know each other and talked as the Spirit led.
• Toward the end of this time, the Triplets were asked to respond to the following questions: 1) How would you describe us as a church? 2) What do you imagine God is calling us to do in this church and in our community?
• Six of the groups sent in responses.
• The organizing team (made up of a moderator, the pastor, and three other members, chosen by the Session) read through the responses, looking for themes that arose from the responses.

Here’s what we saw:
How do we describe ourselves as a church?
We are a family, centered around the Good News of Jesus Christ
who enjoy a traditional style of worship
and seek to be friendly, caring and accepting of
those within and outside of our church walls.
What do we imagine God is calling us to do in this church and community?
There were two obvious calls: to reach out to those (mostly younger families) in our community and to care for the needs of our (mostly older) members. As the team discussed these results, it became evident that these two themes may be a single calling

Unless the participants in this process have strong objections to our summary, these results will be brought to the Session next. Our elders will be asked to consider these responses as they consider our image in the community and as they plan for our future. I am hopeful that this process will lead us to tangible actions that will guide our ministry for the next few years.

Also, there were a lot of great ideas that came up in the Triplet conversations. Feel free to either write out those suggestions to the Session directly or tell them to your favorite elder and let him or her pretend it was their idea.

There's Something About Betty

If I seem a bit bleary-eyed on Sunday morning, it's because I will have stayed up too late on Saturday. You see, Betty White is hosting Saturday Night Live and I am not going to miss it; I have a thing for Bettys.

I met a friend's mom named Betty yesterday and said that to her. I immediately realized that I should probably explain myself so she didn't think I was hitting on her: I have never met a woman named Betty in a church that wasn't awesome. I qualify that statement with "in a church" because I don't want to be presumptuous; perhaps there are Bettys in this world that are awful people who don't go to church. But at the same time, I realize I don't have to; where else but in the church are you going to run into someone named Betty? It's one of those names that was big in its generation, but has since faded out a bit. You're not likely to meet, for example, a twenty year-old Betty. Sure, you'll meet an Elizabeth, or a Liz, or even a Beth; but Bettys are more and more becoming an endangered species. And of course, Bettys are of a generation where church was not an option.

I think my thing for Bettys started about fifteen to twenty years ago. I was working in a church that, like many, was having a bit of conflict. My personality has always wanted everyone to get along so it was stressful and difficult to stay out of other people's quarrels. There I was, training for church work, while all around me people were tense and upset... except for the Bettys. There were a couple of women named Betty who, for some reason, were able to rise above it all: they were supportive and always seemed happy to see me; they never spoke ill of anyone; and no matter what else was going on around them, they had an amazing ability to remain sweet, generous, and calm through it all. At the time, their example taught me a great deal about church conflict: namely that being right isn't all there is. Often (if not always), whatever we're arguing over is far less important than the love we are called to show one another.

At the time, those Bettys gave me an example of what I strive to be among my siblings in Christ. It wasn't until later that it became a "Betty thing." In the next church I worked in, it happened like this: I met a woman who was awesome and thought, "Wow, she reminds me of Betty." Sure enough, that was her name. Since then I've worked in several other churches and I've met Bettys in every one of them. And yes, they've all been awesome.

So I guess my point today is simply this: lets all strive to be a little more Betty... whether that's your name or not. And if your reoccurring example for living out the love of Jesus isn't named Betty, then feel free to insert their name here instead. And who knows, maybe in doing so your name might one day become synonymous to someone else of what is best about the church.