Today I had the pleasure of accompanying my oldest daughter's first grade class on their field trip to Providence, to see a production of Aesop's Fables. I guess "production" is a bit strong of a word, as it was two guys and some homemade puppets. But, that being said, it was well received, as the 800+ kids in the theatre absolutely loved it.
At first, I thought they loved it strictly from an entertainment standpoint. But at a certain moment during the fable of the Sun and the North Wind, I realized they loved it even more from an educational standpoint. Their favorite character in the show was Aesop's dog (aptly maned Moral), who would come out at the end of each fable to drive home the moral of the story. The kids loved shouting out what they thought it was, and then to a kid, talked to each other about what the moral meant.
It was fun to watch that many kids (especially my own daughter) enthusiastically enjoying learning. There was such joy in the process.
How do we, as adults, lose that joy for learning? At what point do we shut ourselves down, and think that we actually know enough? Why is it so hard to convince others, and more importantly ourselves, that we need to continue learning and growing and stretching? What's the cause, and how do we reclaim it?
How does the church become more than a simple social club, and instead, become a joy-filled body of believers, passionate about growing in their faith, each and everyday of life?
Have you ever considered that God really used a stick, a shepherd's staff officially, and not Moses, to free the Hebrew slaves from Pharaoh? Moses was just given the honor of transporting the stick.
He's given that "honor" partly because of his fear, for God's original intention is to work through Moses. It's only after Moses' reluctance becomes blatantly obvious and frustratingly repetitive that God switches to the stick. Moses is afraid of Pharaoh and his fellow Hebrews. Afraid that they might refuse to obey. Afraid that they might question his discernment of his call. Afraid that they might not follow when he tries to lead. But most of all, he is afraid of himself. Ultimately, I believe, afraid of his own perceived unworthiness for such a task. He reminds God...I don't even speak well. And that really is the crux of the whole thing.
This past weekend I was reminded of how it is in our very frailty and weakness that God's glory and power is revealed to the world. A young woman from our congregation, as she graduated from Confirmation, led us in a responsive Call to Worship. Doesn't sound like much on the surface. Just a few lines to read from the bulletin. But she too, like Moses, does not speak well, as she overcomes physical and mental developmental challenges each and every day of her life. But unlike Moses, she refused to let that get in the way of serving the God she loves.
It's been a long time since people reacted to a Call to Worship like they did last Sunday. Not usually the place in the service where tears are shed and the Spirit soars. But on Sunday it was.
Maybe if she was there at the burning bush instead of Moses, God wouldn't have had to use the stick.
Rain. For those of us in the Boston-area, the past 5 days have been a non-stop soaking. Here where I live, we had around 8 inches of rain. My folks, just north of Boston received over a foot. That's a lot of rain!
The pictures of the flooding that has occured north of Boston are simply amazing. Roadways that are as familar to me as the back of my hand from years of travel were turned into Venice. The Ipswich River, a small gentle stream that I regularly fished as a kid, and canoed when I was a bit older, looked like the Kennebec or Penobscot after a dam release. My hometown's (Peabody) downtown was completely submurged. Schools were cancelled for 2 days. My sister, who lives in Haverhill told me that the two bridges in and out of town, which traverse the Merrimack River, were both shut down. She was going nowhere. Rain. A lot of rain.
While looking through an online set of flood photos at Boston.com, I came across an instant classic. There was a picture of a young man with a fishing pole in his hands sitting on the edge of the monument that graces downtown Peabody, pretending to fish (or possibly, really fishing, although for what, I'm not sure). I'm told the photo even made the national usatoday.com website. It was truly hilarious in the midst of a really difficult time.
As I reflected on that picture, and attempted to apply it to faith, it occurred to me of how thankful I am for those moment of laughter and joy, in the midst of the trials of life. Some of those who I consider my best friends have had the unique ability to bring a smile to my face, when sadness seemed to rule the day. Their laughter and humor didn't diminish or invalidate my troubles. But it did let me know, that in the midst of my troubles, I wasn't alone. If my life was at floodstage, they'd be there to ride it out with me. With a fishing pole in hand.
It's been called the greatest threat to face the church since the split between Rome and Constantinople in 1054ce, and conversely, the greatest outreach opportunity the church has had since Peter and the other disciples received the Holy Spirit and preached the Good News in the streets of Jerusalem 2,000 years ago. Hyperbole? Reality? Either way, pretty big words for a fictional novel written to make a buck.
And make a buck, it has done. Dan Brown's The DaVinci Code is the number one all-time best selling adult fictional novel. After a few years, it continues to reside at, or near the top of every best-seller list. Numerous editions, including paperback and illustrated versions, sell like hot cakes. The Code has even spawned its own cottage industry with hundreds of books trying to prove, disbunk, or rehash the theories played out in the pages of Brown's thriller. Christians and non-Christians are making a fortune alongside of, and off of Dan Brown. Every mega-church in the country is offering a program for sale to counter the claims of The Code. And now, with the release of the big screen adaptation just days away, Code fever seems hotter than ever.
And I can't help but wonder if all the hubbub is an indictment of the state of the church in today's western society. If The Code is really that much of a threat to the church, then what does that say about the state of our convictions and beliefs, as the church, and as individuals? Is our faith really that fragile? And more importantly (in my estimation), if this is really that much of an opportunity for the church, then what does that say about how irrelevant we have made Christ in our words and deeds, for those who do not yet know him, or worse, oppose him?
Does it really take a fictional novel, whether it claims "truth" or not within its pages, to spur us on to action, to fire us up? Have we become the church of Laodicea in Revelations 3? If so, shame on us for lacking the passion to worship and serve and spread the Good News, simply out of joy for who God is, and what he has done for us in Jesus Christ.
The real mystery has nothing to do with Dan Brown or the theories of his fictional novel. The real mystery is why the church seems to need it as a wake up call.
As one who spent my days in college studying Economics, I've always been intrigued by the concept of "value", and how it relates to the decision making process. Most definitions state that "value", in economic terms, is the worth of a commodity as determined by its relation to other commodities. In plain speak, you might buy a hot dog for $2, but chances are you won't buy that same hot dog for $20 (unless, of course, you're at Fenway and after paying $90 to park in a gas station lot, a $20 hot dog seems like a steal). It's just not good value. Your money is worth more to you than the hot dog is. That's value. It's how we decide if something is worth it, or not.
In life we are constantly forced to make decisions about how we will use our limited resources; how we will allocate our time, talents and treasure. And although many times these decisions have little to do with finances, we often reach our conclusions based on value. We decide based on that which will give us the greatest return for our investment. The best bang for the buck.
But when it comes to the church, and ministry, how do we determine value, as we go about making our decisions, and using our limited resources? How do we determine whether something is worth it, or not? On the surface, it might make more sense, in terms of perceived value, for me as a pastor to solely involve myself in activities that connect me with the greatest number of individuals. Again, in plain speak, to allocate my resources of time and energy to a sermon which will be heard by 200+, rather than spending a few hours with one individual who is in the midst of a trying time of life. In economic terms, it make sense. It's a good value. Similarly, as a church, it may be better value for us to allocate resources from our budget to those ministries that will in the end, sustain themselves, as those ministered to become members and givers to the congregation, at the expense of those ministries and opportunities that will never become "self-sufficient". Again, in terms of economics, it makes good sense, value-wise.
But as Christians, and as the church of Jesus Christ, we are not called to live our lives, and live out the gospel, according to value. We are called to follow the will of God, as it is revealed to us by his Holy Spirit, regardless of whether or not it makes the most sense, or is logical, or is a good value. For Jesus calls us to base our decisions, not on value, but on love. And here's the kicker...we are told that if we do act out of love, we'll have more than enough resources to meet the challenge. Our blessings will overflow. God will provide.
And yet, so often we just can't get by value. We need our decisions to be logical. But what is logical about Christ? What is logical about a God who gives up all so that we might gain all, and asks us to do the same?
One day in the near future, his cell phone will ring, and the hospital representative will tell him the news that in exactly two weeks time, he is to report to the hospital for surgery. This will be no simple outpatient procedure. No extraction of a tooth. He will be donating a lobe of his own lung, as will another anonymous individual, in order to potentially save a young person's life. To do so, he will be risking his own, even though the greatest care and skill will, of course, be taken. In this, there are no guarantees. No guarantees for success. No guarantees of a perfect and speedy recovery. Not even guarantees that the procedure will go forward, for at any time the entire process could collapse with one wrong test result. But at this point, everything indicates a "go". All signs indicate that the call will come.
And I admit, I am nervous about it all. For this friend is more than a friend to me. He is the definition of "brother in Christ". The impact he has had on my life, that he continues to have on my life, and on my faith in Jesus Christ, is simply and truly immeasurable. I am so much the richer for his presence and his companionship, his wisdom and his faithfulness, and above all his unconditional acceptance of me and all my foibles. And his willingness to go forward with this procedure, is just more proof of why I am blessed to call him my friend. And the willingness of his family, his wife and children, to support him in this, is just more proof of their strength, which I deeply admire. They are a cord not easily broken.
In preparations for this procedure, as you might imagine, there were, and continue to be, a myriad of tests, to determine if he will be a suitable candidate. Blood work, lung capacity, family health history, etc. I was surprised to hear that one of those tests involved interviews with a psychologist. You see, they are interested in knowing why the donor is willing to donate. Is it due to a messiah-complex? Is it due to pressures exerted by family members? Is it due to a desire to be a hero? Is it due to guilt or remorse? Why? Like the woman who humbly brings her offering of two small copper coins, and places them into the offering chests at the Temple with joy, simply because she can, so my friend is offering a lobe of his lung. Humbly, with joy. Simply because he can.
Humility is a word that seems lost in our modern culture. Everything today seems to revolve around attitude, and swagger and respect. It is too easy to miss those humble enough to offer their meager coins, as we too intently focus on those bringing their wagon-loads. I thank God for this example of humility that is being played out in my friend's life, and will be played out in the days ahead. And with all the humility I can muster, I give my prayers as a parallel offering.
Today I had the pleasure of accompanying my oldest daughter's first grade class on their field trip to Providence, to see a production of Aesop's Fables. I guess "production" is a bit strong of a word, as it was two guys and some homemade puppets. But, that being said, it was well received, as the 800+ kids in the theatre absolutely loved it.
