I was thinking about why attending church and bible study is such a 'gotta do it' for me. So, today I paid close attention to what all happened and my feelings and reactions. First, we made it to early church - which was a ploy on my part to get communion today. Hubby managed to get awake, showered and dressed in reasonable time for us to arrive. We sang songs that talked about the Trinity, about what they do for us. I heard a wonderful sermon by our pastor on just how depraved we are and no matter how much we try to be good, upstanding and compassionate people, we ain't. Then he began threading into the sermon the wonderful gospel message that Jesus was all that and more FOR us.
We sang and gave our offerings to the Lord and our common welfare. Then, it was time for communion where I was next to my brothers and sisters, receiving the body and blood of our Lord together. We became, once again, part and parcel of not only the Lord, but of each other in that sharing. It was as Jesus said, "I am the vine" and all we do is receive our nourishment from Him. We sang more songs, we prayed, we gave thanks to God for the gifts He gave us today. I quietly celebrated my one year anniversary of my first communion in this church as a Lutheran. It was Trinity Sunday. Still, I am in awe of what we have been given.
We concluded the service and talked with a lot of people, grabbed tea and coffee and hubby got his requisite handful of donuts. Although I do wish I could eat things like that and not gain. He could live on the stuff and never vary an ounce. Totally unfair.
During our bible class we discussed from the Good News magazine how Christ is our vine and we are the branches. We receive that living water from Him. Think of all the places we get that - in the confession and absolution, in baptism, in communion, in the preached word and finally in our bible classes. We leave church every Sunday filled to overflowing with the gifts God has for us. Do we stop and realize the importance of these gifts?
I know there are people who think that church isn't all that big of a deal. But, to me, it's truly a life giving place where I can get things that aren't available anywhere else. Truth, is precious and our Lord Jesus is Not Irrelevant.
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Plum Tuckered
My grandmother used to say after a long day's work "I'm plum tuckered out." It's become a favorite saying of mine as well. Tonight, it fits to a "T." After the end of a four day work week when nothing got done after work except the bare essentials, I'm trying to catch up today on what needed to be done. Fat chance. Ha. It's almost 9 now and I'm so tired I am seeing double.
My mind is going over what I want to discuss with the surgeon next week and how to plan for the upcoming surgery. I found a bunch of great books on Amazon for free that I downloaded and have been enjoying every night. They're rather old, turn of the century and mid to late 1800's. Just my speed and good to take my mind off the various worries.
What's great is tomorrow is church! I look forward to this every week. I know I've said it time and again, but it holds true. Nothing can beat what I get there. So, tonight I wrap up all the baking and cooking and portioning out for the week and get ready to spend a few minutes with hubby on the patio for one of his awesome fires. I go to bed tonight happy knowing that tomorrow I get to hear the word of God and be blessed again as I start the new week.
Those few hours I get to spend there make me realize that the other 6 and 3/4 days of the week are almost an illusion. What's real, what's important is contained in that building for all to participate. When we leave, we take it out with us and in us to share the blessings. It makes a Saturday of being tuckered out well worth the effort.
My mind is going over what I want to discuss with the surgeon next week and how to plan for the upcoming surgery. I found a bunch of great books on Amazon for free that I downloaded and have been enjoying every night. They're rather old, turn of the century and mid to late 1800's. Just my speed and good to take my mind off the various worries.
What's great is tomorrow is church! I look forward to this every week. I know I've said it time and again, but it holds true. Nothing can beat what I get there. So, tonight I wrap up all the baking and cooking and portioning out for the week and get ready to spend a few minutes with hubby on the patio for one of his awesome fires. I go to bed tonight happy knowing that tomorrow I get to hear the word of God and be blessed again as I start the new week.
Those few hours I get to spend there make me realize that the other 6 and 3/4 days of the week are almost an illusion. What's real, what's important is contained in that building for all to participate. When we leave, we take it out with us and in us to share the blessings. It makes a Saturday of being tuckered out well worth the effort.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
It Weighs Heavy on Your Heart
As I walked in to my building, I said hello to the maintenance man. We usually exchange pleasantries daily as we see each other coming and going. I remarked that it will be a hard week and he said doubly so. He walked with me and said he lost both of his nephews this week. One Friday night, the other Sunday night. There aren't any words to adequately convey what he so desperately needed and wanted to hear. Why?
He said "When we were kids, we'd fight, get a black eye and be back playing with each other a few minutes later. These days, they shoot you, straight out." I agreed, as times have indeed become reminiscent of the old west for many teens today. His eyes spoke volumes of wasted lives for petty one upmanship. The lines in his face had grown noticeably deeper. "I jump every time the phone rings now." He said in parting.
I was taken back to my years working for the city school district as an interpreter. We joked somewhat about it being a war zone and teachers deserved combat duty pay. Armed guards, police, checkpoints - none of it made a difference. Once away from school, the kids preyed on each other like a pack of dogs going after cats. Each week, someone died. Each week at least one funeral for a child. Each week, one less face that walked the halls. Each week, one less of a future scientist or judge or president. Each week.
Those days were hard, but I grew a very tough skin and tried to keep it somewhere else other than in my mind or heart. Today, listening to my friend brought it all back up to the surface. When do we realize that these kids are God's creation and not some useless genetic cast-off because they happen to be poor or of a different skin tone? When do we stand up and say enough is enough? We're the adults, can't we take control of this insanity?
The reasons why it happens are varied, but I've known too many children who grew up and out of that environment to say it's a lost cause. What matters now is, do we continue to watch the murders escalate and sit back in our suburban, security wired homes and just nod that it's a shame? Go on and see what's on the TV after the news? Does anyone care? I saw that 400 police officers turned out for the shooting of one officer over the weekend. How many show up for the murder of a child by a drive by shooter? If we put our money where our mouth is, perhaps we'd have less crazy folks shooting at the police and more kids who make it to adulthood as productive citizens.
He said "When we were kids, we'd fight, get a black eye and be back playing with each other a few minutes later. These days, they shoot you, straight out." I agreed, as times have indeed become reminiscent of the old west for many teens today. His eyes spoke volumes of wasted lives for petty one upmanship. The lines in his face had grown noticeably deeper. "I jump every time the phone rings now." He said in parting.
I was taken back to my years working for the city school district as an interpreter. We joked somewhat about it being a war zone and teachers deserved combat duty pay. Armed guards, police, checkpoints - none of it made a difference. Once away from school, the kids preyed on each other like a pack of dogs going after cats. Each week, someone died. Each week at least one funeral for a child. Each week, one less face that walked the halls. Each week, one less of a future scientist or judge or president. Each week.
Those days were hard, but I grew a very tough skin and tried to keep it somewhere else other than in my mind or heart. Today, listening to my friend brought it all back up to the surface. When do we realize that these kids are God's creation and not some useless genetic cast-off because they happen to be poor or of a different skin tone? When do we stand up and say enough is enough? We're the adults, can't we take control of this insanity?
The reasons why it happens are varied, but I've known too many children who grew up and out of that environment to say it's a lost cause. What matters now is, do we continue to watch the murders escalate and sit back in our suburban, security wired homes and just nod that it's a shame? Go on and see what's on the TV after the news? Does anyone care? I saw that 400 police officers turned out for the shooting of one officer over the weekend. How many show up for the murder of a child by a drive by shooter? If we put our money where our mouth is, perhaps we'd have less crazy folks shooting at the police and more kids who make it to adulthood as productive citizens.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Fisherman to Fisher of Men
I often wondered how Peter felt when the Lord called him away from his nets and boat. He asked him to do something that was completely foreign to Peter, help bring souls to God. Life as a fisherman was something Peter had grown up with and into. The smells and sights of water, fish, damp netting and broiling clouds overhead were his office. He felt comfortable reading the sky, the waves and the wind. Now, he was asked by the Lord to walk away from what he knew so well.
Fishing for men, sounds good on the surface but I think inside his heart, Peter was cringing at the prospects of reaching out to men. He was after all, a simple fisherman with little formal education. How could he tell people about the rabbi, the LORD. The times Peter saw Jesus for what He was scared him silly. Obviously Jesus had more faith in Peter than Peter did in himself. I can see him saying to his fellow apostles, "I can tie knots, fillet fish and steer through a storm. How on earth do I learn to become a teacher?"
Peter is my hero. He stumbled forward no matter the consequences. Talking first and thinking about it later, he often acted hastily and with great conviction - at the moment. It took more than Jesus being by his side to keep him going. We see that as he sinks below the water as he tries to walk to the Lord who winds up holding Peter above the waves. At the trial Peter wilts like a houseplant on week 2 of no water. He runs away crying desperate tears.
What it took was the Holy Spirit coming on and into Peter and the rest of the apostles to give them the ability to BE apostles. To be the sent ones, not just disciples. They knew at that point what to say and how to say it. No more fish nets, boats or long nights at sea. From now on, the Spirit taught them and led them in being the witnesses for the risen Christ.
We may waver in our chosen vocations and wonder how on earth God can use us to be effective witnesses. After all, we toil day in and out at our respective desks, or trucks, or machines or registers. When do we get to stand firm and tall in proclaiming the good news? But, inside all of us is the fear, that gnawing fear we just don't have the right words to tell another person. How much like Peter we all are. Do we trust in the same Holy Spirit that came that day to the apostles to do the same for us?
Fishing for men, sounds good on the surface but I think inside his heart, Peter was cringing at the prospects of reaching out to men. He was after all, a simple fisherman with little formal education. How could he tell people about the rabbi, the LORD. The times Peter saw Jesus for what He was scared him silly. Obviously Jesus had more faith in Peter than Peter did in himself. I can see him saying to his fellow apostles, "I can tie knots, fillet fish and steer through a storm. How on earth do I learn to become a teacher?"
Peter is my hero. He stumbled forward no matter the consequences. Talking first and thinking about it later, he often acted hastily and with great conviction - at the moment. It took more than Jesus being by his side to keep him going. We see that as he sinks below the water as he tries to walk to the Lord who winds up holding Peter above the waves. At the trial Peter wilts like a houseplant on week 2 of no water. He runs away crying desperate tears.
What it took was the Holy Spirit coming on and into Peter and the rest of the apostles to give them the ability to BE apostles. To be the sent ones, not just disciples. They knew at that point what to say and how to say it. No more fish nets, boats or long nights at sea. From now on, the Spirit taught them and led them in being the witnesses for the risen Christ.
We may waver in our chosen vocations and wonder how on earth God can use us to be effective witnesses. After all, we toil day in and out at our respective desks, or trucks, or machines or registers. When do we get to stand firm and tall in proclaiming the good news? But, inside all of us is the fear, that gnawing fear we just don't have the right words to tell another person. How much like Peter we all are. Do we trust in the same Holy Spirit that came that day to the apostles to do the same for us?
Sunday, May 20, 2012
The Real Deal
I am drinking grape juice quite frequently these days and I ran out of my current bottle so I went to the shelf for more. There was a bottle of grape juice, not Welch's, but a name brand that purported to be 100% grape juice. I poured a glass and it tasted like flavored water. Looking closely at the label, it said all juice with added flavors and natural ingredients. Right. Must have been 2 grapes and the remainder ascorbic acid and a few other unmentionable things. I donated it to my husband (he's like Mikey, he'll eat most anything) and got out a bottle of the real thing for me.
How often do we get by with close, but not the real deal? We rationalize it'll do the trick, satisfy the need and no one will really know the difference. But it is still an approximation, a knock-off or clone. How often have we found that generics are sometimes not as good as the name brands? Even though they are manufactured within certain tolerance ranges, the tolerance range is much greater than for name brands. What it means is that you can have 500mg of aspirin (+- 50mg for generic vs +- 5mg for name brands). Somethings it doesn't make much difference, others, it's a major issue.
I see the same pattern in Christian practice, how close is close enough? Do we lean a little to the left or to the right? Is this piece of the worship service that critical to keep? Is God just as happy with us if we show up in cut offs and t-shirts or does He demand suits and ties? There are few explicit directions for practice in worship other than the Old Testament. In ancient Israel God spelled it all out for them to the fabric they wore and what exactly the trim on the robes looked like. He gave exact dimensions and properties of the contents of the temple and their placement. We wonder why we don't have the same "laid down in stone" commands for Christianity.
In a way we did have pretty clear instructions on the way we are expected to worship and conduct ourselves. The early church patterned itself after the ceremonies of the synagogue and included the unique contributions that Jesus instituted. They read from Torah, the prophets and psalms. The prayers began in the daily worship life of the Jew, prayers for the bread, the wine, meat, whatever was eaten at the meal. Daily prayers were observed by all devout Jews. Those prayers were set and traditional from scripture (the mouth of God to us.) All these things contributed to the early church and its formation. They sang, they prayed, they discussed the scripture reading for the day.
The liturgy is not a "thing" that was devised by the Roman Church, or Orthodox Church. It began with God telling Israel how He wanted to be worshipped and how He would come to them. It's not that to be authentic we need to go back to a synagogue and follow their pattern (although if you went to one today it would seem quite familiar to you in content.) What the church became was what Christ brought to us, the completion of what the laws and ordinances Israel did that pointed to the salvation Jesus brought to the world. In that sense, our liturgy reaches back in time to the earliest man, Adam.
Today, we tend to focus on me rather than what God has said He'd do for us. He laid down the pattern and contents for us. We don't have to work our way to God's graces or benevolence by our worship. We gather, He comes and leaves us filled and healed. For that, we offer thanks and glory to God. It's the real deal.
How often do we get by with close, but not the real deal? We rationalize it'll do the trick, satisfy the need and no one will really know the difference. But it is still an approximation, a knock-off or clone. How often have we found that generics are sometimes not as good as the name brands? Even though they are manufactured within certain tolerance ranges, the tolerance range is much greater than for name brands. What it means is that you can have 500mg of aspirin (+- 50mg for generic vs +- 5mg for name brands). Somethings it doesn't make much difference, others, it's a major issue.
I see the same pattern in Christian practice, how close is close enough? Do we lean a little to the left or to the right? Is this piece of the worship service that critical to keep? Is God just as happy with us if we show up in cut offs and t-shirts or does He demand suits and ties? There are few explicit directions for practice in worship other than the Old Testament. In ancient Israel God spelled it all out for them to the fabric they wore and what exactly the trim on the robes looked like. He gave exact dimensions and properties of the contents of the temple and their placement. We wonder why we don't have the same "laid down in stone" commands for Christianity.
In a way we did have pretty clear instructions on the way we are expected to worship and conduct ourselves. The early church patterned itself after the ceremonies of the synagogue and included the unique contributions that Jesus instituted. They read from Torah, the prophets and psalms. The prayers began in the daily worship life of the Jew, prayers for the bread, the wine, meat, whatever was eaten at the meal. Daily prayers were observed by all devout Jews. Those prayers were set and traditional from scripture (the mouth of God to us.) All these things contributed to the early church and its formation. They sang, they prayed, they discussed the scripture reading for the day.
The liturgy is not a "thing" that was devised by the Roman Church, or Orthodox Church. It began with God telling Israel how He wanted to be worshipped and how He would come to them. It's not that to be authentic we need to go back to a synagogue and follow their pattern (although if you went to one today it would seem quite familiar to you in content.) What the church became was what Christ brought to us, the completion of what the laws and ordinances Israel did that pointed to the salvation Jesus brought to the world. In that sense, our liturgy reaches back in time to the earliest man, Adam.
Today, we tend to focus on me rather than what God has said He'd do for us. He laid down the pattern and contents for us. We don't have to work our way to God's graces or benevolence by our worship. We gather, He comes and leaves us filled and healed. For that, we offer thanks and glory to God. It's the real deal.
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Wine Tasting and Friends
We're headed down south of Farmington to celebrate a good friend's 50th birthday. We haven't seen Peggy and Rock in ages so it will be good to get out and relax with old friends. Her daughter set it up in a local winery and it's a surprise so that makes even more exciting. Hubby is busy mowing the grass and getting the front at least to not look like a jungle.
I've been pondering how political agitation makes you begin to see people with differing views not just as opponents, but they begin to feel like enemies. Soon, everyone who doesn't hold your political or moral belief is now an enemy of the state and as such, doesn't deserve respect or even acknowledgement. I've watched it happen to me. I get on a holy, self-righteous horse and decide that they are just gutter scum and not worth the air they breathe. Which makes the conviction in my heart even worse.
I care for and even love people who are the complete antithesis of what I hold true and believe. The dichotomy of what I know of these people and how they are just as much a child of God as I; with my almost perverted hatred of things not "approved by God", makes my head spin reconciling one with the other. Some days I can segregate the two and others, not so well. The real world has hurting sinners, just as we find in church on Sunday's. Their sins are no more egregious than mine. A sin is a sin, no matter how little it is.
Which brings me back to friends. Jesus hung out with the downtrodden, outcast and despised of Jewish society. He dared to touch those unclean to heal them physically and spiritually. He stooped so low as to become a slave to His disciples and wash their dirty, smelly feet. He thought nothing of touching a leper, a common prostitute, a thief on the cross, of you and me. He didn't spurn those that needed the physician of souls, he embraced them as friends and loved them like they had never known. He asks from us to do the same. Do we?
I've been pondering how political agitation makes you begin to see people with differing views not just as opponents, but they begin to feel like enemies. Soon, everyone who doesn't hold your political or moral belief is now an enemy of the state and as such, doesn't deserve respect or even acknowledgement. I've watched it happen to me. I get on a holy, self-righteous horse and decide that they are just gutter scum and not worth the air they breathe. Which makes the conviction in my heart even worse.
I care for and even love people who are the complete antithesis of what I hold true and believe. The dichotomy of what I know of these people and how they are just as much a child of God as I; with my almost perverted hatred of things not "approved by God", makes my head spin reconciling one with the other. Some days I can segregate the two and others, not so well. The real world has hurting sinners, just as we find in church on Sunday's. Their sins are no more egregious than mine. A sin is a sin, no matter how little it is.
Which brings me back to friends. Jesus hung out with the downtrodden, outcast and despised of Jewish society. He dared to touch those unclean to heal them physically and spiritually. He stooped so low as to become a slave to His disciples and wash their dirty, smelly feet. He thought nothing of touching a leper, a common prostitute, a thief on the cross, of you and me. He didn't spurn those that needed the physician of souls, he embraced them as friends and loved them like they had never known. He asks from us to do the same. Do we?
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Life in the F...a....s....t Lane
OK, so I have 6 more days with this cast on my finger/hand and it's driving me batty. I work with numbers day in and day out. On a computer. Do you know how dangerous it is to have one of your digits sticking out another inch and a full 2 inches around while you try to type? I go s...l....o....w....l....y and double check everything. Meanwhile, I wait for the appt. with the colorectal surgeon in 2 weeks to discuss the takedown procedure happening hopefully early to mid June. Still on liquids, my foray into juicing and dicing didn't work. Wound up in the hospital. Not good. I have cheated a few times and I have paid for it a few times.
With all this self pitying going on, I have been fighting the desire to work my way into God's good graces. It seems that the more stuff that gets hurled in my direction, the more I want to appease the self-made god of my mind rather than just allow the God who is take care of me.
There is a good part of my mind that delights somehow in the vision of an angry god that must be glorified and praised enough to make him feel like blessing me.
What's good these days is I see this god as the figment of my imagination he really is. How often did God in the Old Testament tell Israel their offerings and songs and praises were repulsive to Him? Just shut up and be good little Israelites and stop your whore mongering ways. Well, not that crass, but you get the idea.
I have to be careful not to fall into the trap of the old Evangelical life of "I'm not doing enough" which is an all too familiar pattern. Surely, as time passes this will weaken and I will learn. I think back to the praise music I used to sing and listen to all the time, it was hard to give up since it made ME feel so good. That high on top of high feeling you used to gauge the Spirit's influence on your life or God's approval of your praise. It became like putting a quarter in a slot machine and getting your gumballs. Today, I know God isn't the eternal gumball machine waiting on me to drop a quarter so He can bless me. It seemed so, Pavlovian you know?
The trouble is we all like to feel good and it seems like if we're 'in good with God' we'll be having those feelings a lot of the time. Not just every once in a while. I am still figuring out the joy thing in the Lutheran theology, how it works in practical life. How do we live our lives to shine as bright examples to the world of Christ's love for us? What is the drawing card so to speak? I know the scriptures have the power of God to convince, but what of our lives? Is it selfless service, giving, joy, peace, what??? What exactly differentiates the true Christian from the non-Christian?
I downloaded a few more books this week and am going back to The Church From Age to Age and see if I can discover anything. I read a lot of early church fathers and mothers, treatises on early church practices and it did seem that people were made of different mettle than we are today. Sacrifice and giving all made them into what we would call saints today. Maybe it's just that we have too much; time, money, freedom, to NEED God in our lives. I hate to theologize things to death when the gospel is at its heart so simple, but the errors that crept in during the different ages were quite serious. You almost need a guide to ferret out the good from the bad.
Keeping busy doing what I love to do, research and study. Thankful for spell check and wishing it was available for my numbers. Luckily, most of my work has been on data cleaning and aggregating so I've been able to avoid much hand entering of numbers. Databases are your friends. I'm weird like that.
With all this self pitying going on, I have been fighting the desire to work my way into God's good graces. It seems that the more stuff that gets hurled in my direction, the more I want to appease the self-made god of my mind rather than just allow the God who is take care of me.
There is a good part of my mind that delights somehow in the vision of an angry god that must be glorified and praised enough to make him feel like blessing me.
I have to be careful not to fall into the trap of the old Evangelical life of "I'm not doing enough" which is an all too familiar pattern. Surely, as time passes this will weaken and I will learn. I think back to the praise music I used to sing and listen to all the time, it was hard to give up since it made ME feel so good. That high on top of high feeling you used to gauge the Spirit's influence on your life or God's approval of your praise. It became like putting a quarter in a slot machine and getting your gumballs. Today, I know God isn't the eternal gumball machine waiting on me to drop a quarter so He can bless me. It seemed so, Pavlovian you know?
The trouble is we all like to feel good and it seems like if we're 'in good with God' we'll be having those feelings a lot of the time. Not just every once in a while. I am still figuring out the joy thing in the Lutheran theology, how it works in practical life. How do we live our lives to shine as bright examples to the world of Christ's love for us? What is the drawing card so to speak? I know the scriptures have the power of God to convince, but what of our lives? Is it selfless service, giving, joy, peace, what??? What exactly differentiates the true Christian from the non-Christian?
I downloaded a few more books this week and am going back to The Church From Age to Age and see if I can discover anything. I read a lot of early church fathers and mothers, treatises on early church practices and it did seem that people were made of different mettle than we are today. Sacrifice and giving all made them into what we would call saints today. Maybe it's just that we have too much; time, money, freedom, to NEED God in our lives. I hate to theologize things to death when the gospel is at its heart so simple, but the errors that crept in during the different ages were quite serious. You almost need a guide to ferret out the good from the bad.
Keeping busy doing what I love to do, research and study. Thankful for spell check and wishing it was available for my numbers. Luckily, most of my work has been on data cleaning and aggregating so I've been able to avoid much hand entering of numbers. Databases are your friends. I'm weird like that.
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