Sunday Afternoon Prayer: Elizabeth’s Prayer

In Luke 1, Mary (Luke 1:46-55) has a song and Zechariah has a song (Luke 1:68-79).  These are their prayers at  times in their lives when God was moving in unexpected ways.  Elizabeth's prayers aren't recorded in scripture, but based on her story in Luke 1, this is how I imagine she might have prayed.

O Lord Our God,
You have declared that "my thoughts are not your thoughts,
Neither are your ways my ways.
As the heavens are higher than the earth,
So are my ways higher than your ways
And my thoughts higher than your thoughts."¹

I've always known those words were true.  But I didn't like them.
Most of my life I have not understood your ways.
I am not sure I do, even now.
Actually, I am pretty sure I don't.

All those years of waiting and longing.
When I was a little girl I dreamed of a good husband and the children I would bear him.  It didn't seem like much to ask.
And my husband is a good man.
He is upright and follows you.
But the children never came to us.
Month after month after month of disappointment.
My friends had their first child, and their second, and their third...
And my womb lay empty and my stomach flat.
At every gathering, they would start to tell their birth stories and discuss the challenges of nursing.  I have never felt so out of place.  Like I was an imposter, a fake woman.

And all of those months I cried out to you.
"Please Lord, may this be the month."
"How long, O Lord, how long?"²
"Do not hide your face from me, my God"³

And you remained silent.
You did not answer me.
For all those years.

I tried to be patient while I waited.  I really did.
But the shame was unbearable.
I know others whispered behind my back:
Who sinned?  This woman or her husband?

I wondered myself.  What have we done wrong?
And still you remained silent.  I was left waiting.

As the years passed, I gave up hope.
I was too old to have my first child now.
My friends had become grandmothers.

So I tried to be faithful with the little I had.
I worshipped you.  I kept your commandments.
I kept the Sabbath.
I honored my husband and our marriage.
I tried so hard to not covet my friends' children.
But the questions still gnawed at my heart.  Your silence didn't help.

And then.  Then it all changed.
Zechariah came home from his work in the temple.
He had gotten his once in a lifetime opportunity to enter the holy of holies.
But things were strange.
He couldn't speak.  He had to communicate in writing.
And he scrawled on the board that I would become pregnant.
I didn't believe it.  Now?  After all these years?
But he told me about your messenger.
And slowly, I felt a tiny ray of hope warm my being.
Maybe it would be so.  Maybe you wouldn't be silent forever.

And it was so.  You heard my cry and you answered me.I look at this tiny babe in my arms, and I don't know what the future holds for him.
I want to keep him safe in my arms forever, but I'm sure that isn't your plan.
I know this is a special baby.  A miracle baby.
And you have plans for him.  I don't know what they are yet.
But you have proved that your ways are higher than mine.
Even during all those torturous years, you were faithful to your promises.
You heard my cry and finally answered me.

¹Isaiah 55:8-9
² Psalm 13:1
³ Psalm 27:9
Photo by Cary and Kacey Jordan, The Jordan Collective.  Used under a Creative Commons License.

Boxing Lament, Creating Playlists, and Backwards Parties: Spiritual Practices for a Busy Generation

I was talking with a clergy colleague/friend recently about an intergenerational study she is putting together for her congregation about spiritual disciplines.  We talks a bit about the different resources she is (and could) pull from.  There are a number of books about spiritual disciplines published.  I had never heard the term “spiritual discipline” until I was in college.  I was introduced to the term and the concept through Richard Foster’s Celebration of Discipline.  My family and church community had certainly practiced spiritual disciplines (some better than others), but I had never seen them all laid out and talked about as a whole. 
In the years since, I have read a number of such books at different points in my life.  Each has a slightly different tone and focus.  Most recently I read Who’s Got Time: Spirituality for a Busy Generation by Teri Peterson and Amy Fetterman.  It is one of the newest titles in the Young Clergy Woman Project imprint with Chalice Press.  Peterson and Fetterman are both youngish pastors and they wrote this primarily for people in their generation.  People who grew up with computers.  People who grew up moving frequently and far from extended family.  People who are marrying later and later or not marrying at all.  People who struggle to find work and if they do expect to change jobs regularly for the rest of their life.
Peterson and Fetterman do a great job of suggesting ways to practice spiritual disciplines (both classic and new) in the busy, hyper-connected life most of us live.  I really appreciated their practicality and creativity.  As much as a I respect Foster’s work, Celebration of Discipline doesn’t include a chapter on social media. 
Here’s a sampling of some of the ideas that I found interesting (they cover more traditional disciplines, like fasting, too).  Chapter two is called “In the Body,” and it explores “ways we can exercise our spirits as we live in flesh and bone.”  One of their suggestions is to incorporate a piece of scripture into a boxing (or kickboxing?) routine.  They say “Amy’s personal favorite combo includes Psalm 61:1 and goes like this: Hear *jab* my *jab* cry *right hook* O *left hook* God *backfist*.”  I may or may not actually try this one myself, but a physical lament sounds awesome!
Chapter four is all about using music in the life of faith.  One of my favorite ideas from the chapter I already shared on the blog—making playlists.  They suggest peace and righteous anger playlists.  I made a wait. hope. expect. playlist that helps me to wait with hope during this period of my life.
They also have a chapter on rituals that I found inspiring.  They wonder “How do we organize our hopes, dreams, fears, realities, loves, losses, and find a sense of the Holy in the midst of them? How do we mark these life events that don’t have rituals already attached to them the way marriage or kids do?…We believe there is a way to create ritual that makes meaning out of the lives we live now, as twenty-first–century young adults” (ch. 5).  One of the examples they give is a “backwards party” when one of their friends was moving away.  They started by saying goodbye, ate dessert, then dinner, and ended with saying hello.  It was a ritual that helped this group of friends to transition to a new phase of their friendship.  I haven’t started any new rituals yet, but I’m thinking of opportunities.
There are lots more ideas in the book, and I would encourage you to check it out for yourself if you are looking to grow in your spiritual walk.  I would add a note that I am a bit more conservative in theology than the authors, and a few ideas I’m not sure I’d be comfortable trying.  But that doesn’t mean they don’t have lots of good ideas and true thoughts.  

Sunday Afternoon Prayer: When The Timing Seems Wrong

Today is the first Sunday of Advent, a time of waiting and anticipation.  This is my prayer for these weeks (and my life).  If you are looking for devotional activities for Advent, you can print what I created.  If you are still thinking about American Thanksgiving, you can read about things I'm thankful for.

God of time,
You are outside of time.  Yet you created time. 
That time plays a big part of lives.  And sometimes, the timing just seems wrong. 
The Israelite people wanted their Messiah to come sooner to rescue them.
Zechariah and Elizabeth longed for a child to be born for years.
Mary faced a too-soon-pregnancy.
Christians have been waiting for Jesus to return.  For 2,000 years.
Some wait for a positive pregnancy test while others are overwhelmed with an unexpected pregnancy.
We wait to hear back about job interviews and scholarships, home sales and medical tests.
So often, the timing just seems wrong and our lives feel like they are crumbling.

How long, O Lord?

How long until you make “beautiful things out of dust”?

Jesus, you know time.  You too had to wait until your hour came.
Help us as we wait!  Give us strength and patience. 
Help us to trust in your timing, that you are caring for us even when it seems like our lives are dust.
Help us to see glimpses of “hope…springing up from this old ground.”
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.

With thanks to Psalm 13, Luke 1-2, John 2, and “Beautiful Things” by Gungor.  
Photo by gilliu00_, used under a Creative Commons License. 

Wait. Hope. Expect. Playlist

Sometime this spring I was browsing through the stores in downtown Holland, MI.  At one, I found this little plaque.  The three words captured my season of life, so I bought it--partly as a reminder to hope and expect and not only wait.  It is currently hanging out on my dresser to keep reminding me that waiting comes to an end.

A few weeks ago, I was reading Who's Got Time: Spirituality for a Busy Generation.  I'll write more about it in the coming weeks, but it is chock full of interesting takes on spiritual disciplines--one of them is creating playlists.  I was inspired to make a playlist of songs that capture these three verbs.  I have been playing it ever since, giving words and feeling to the waiting, helping to have hope, and encouraging me to expect that God is working.  It starts with "From deep distress / and troubled thoughts / to you, O God / we raise our cries."  It journeys to "a mass grave / no one can raise.  / But you said "live" / and the ground it gives"  and to God "slipping out of underneath rocks / in alleys off the beaten path."  It ends with a benediction: "Christ be with me / Christ before me/ Christ behind me."  Wherever you are on your journey, may these songs bless you as they have blessed me.  If you have Spotify (its a free download), you can listen to most of the songs below.  The three that Spotify doesn't have I provided a link to in the list below.

1. "From Deep Distress," The Water and the Blood, Sojourn
2. "Wait," Meet Me At the Edge of the World, Over the Rhine
3. "Keep Breathing," Be Ok, Ingrid Michaelson
4.  "I'll Wait," Invisible Empires, Sara Groves
5.  "I Will Wait," Babel, Mumford and Sons
6.  "The Wait," Desire Like Dynamite, Sandra McCracken
7.  "A Far-Off Hope," Love & War & The Sea In Between, Josh Garrels
8. "All the Stars," The Blood and the Breath, Caroline Cobb
9. "Love's Redeeming Work is Done," Love Shall Be Our Token, High Street Hymns
10. "Dry Bones," The Blood and the Breath, Caroline Cobb
11. "I Hope You Dance," I Hope You Dance, LeeAnn Womack
12. "Holding On To Hope," Faint Not, Jenny & Tyler
13. "Zechariah and the Least Expected Places," The Bewildering Light, So Elated
14. "He's Always Been Faithful," The Collection, Sara Groves
15. "Refuge," Over the Grave, Sojourn
16. "Strangely Ready," The Collection, Sara Groves
17. "Abiding City," The Builder and the Architect, Sandra McCracken
18. "Christ Be With Me," The Brilliance, Brilliance

What I’m Listening To: Dry Bones

The album I’ve been listening to on repeat lately is called The Blood & The Breath: Songs That Sing the Story of Redemption by Caroline Cobb.  The songs trace God’s big story from Genesis to Revelation.  They thoughtfully bring scripture to life—even some texts that aren’t often sung.  My favorite song is called “Dry Bones,” based on Ezekiel 37.  I don’t know many songs based on this strange passage (or Ezekiel in general), but this song has helped me see the beauty of life coming from dry bones.  And it gives me hope that situations that seem dry and hopeless can be revived by the Spirit of God.  The words are good, but to get the full effect you should go to Caroline’s website, listen to the song, and download the album.
Dry bones
Hearts of stone
Slain and left
In the valley of death
Been dead so long
All the flesh is gone
A mass grave
No one can raise

But you said “live”
And the ground it gives
The bones start to rattle
And the darkness lifts

You give them blood and bone and
Hearts of stone to flesh
You give them muscle, skin
And life within the breath

Open graves
Bodies raised
The living breath
Reversing death


Written May 2011 for The Scripture to Music Project
Words and music by Caroline Cobb
From Ezekiel’s vision in Ezekiel 37:1-14; 36:26,27
Photo by _ChrisUK, used under a Creative Commons License.

Goodbye, Grand Rapids

Tonight is the last night I will sleep in my apartment in Grand Rapids.  For the foreseeable future, it is the last night I will stay in GR as a resident, and not someone’s guest.  This is a sad night for me.  This is the place I became an adult.  I have lived here for 3/4 of my adult life.  I went to Calvin College here.  I went to Calvin Theological Seminary here.  I had my first call at Church of the Servant here.  Living in Grand Rapids has shaped me in so many ways. 
People love to hate Grand Rapids; some call it “bland rapids.”  It is not as big or as cosmopolitan as New York or Chicago.  But Grand Rapids has its own charm.  There are lots of wonderful places and things to do in Grand Rapids.  Let me share a few of my favorites with you:

• Calvin College—where I learned how to be a thinking Christian mindful of the broader world
• Oakdale Park CRC—the church I attended while I was at Calvin
• Ice skating at Rosa Park circle
• Little Africa Ethiopian restaurant—a favorite place my friends would go when we were at Calvin
• $5 student tickets to the Grand Rapids Symphony
• Calvin Theological Seminary—where I did the formal education part of becoming a pastor
• Monroe Community Church—the church that loved me through seminary
• Kava House
• Art Prize—most interesting and fun thing that has started in GR recently
• The Green Well—a favorite with some of my seminary-era friends
• Peking Wok (which has very sadly closed)
• Eerdman’s Bookstore—they have a great selection of discount Eerdman's books
• Concerts at Calvin College—why didn’t I go to more when I was a student?  They have really interesting artists
• The Festival of Faith and Writing—so many wonderful readers and writers gathered together
• Church of the Servant—where I became a pastor
• Summer concerts at the Fredrik Meijer Gardens Amphitheater
• Bethany Refugee Services and the hundreds of refugees that are resettled here every year
• Baker Books and Icons Coffee—wonderful bookstore and coffee shop really close to my house
• Kentwood Public Library

And of course, the people are such an important part of Grand Rapids and my experience here.  Professors and friends from Calvin College.  Professors, staff, and students at Calvin Seminary, where I was enfolded into community.  Other wonderful friends that I made during my seminary days.  Colleagues and congregants at Church of the Servant.  I wouldn’t be who I am without all of you all.
I don’t know where I am going to land in the future, but I am thankful for the ways Grand Rapids has shaped me, and I am excited to take that with me to my unknown destination.  Thanks, Grand Rapids.  Its been great!  

On My New Found Love of Poetry

When I was in seminary, I heard Eugene Peterson speak at the Festival of Faith and Writing.  He was asked what advice he would give to young pastors.  I think he had three pieces of advice, but I only remember two.  Those two have stuck with me, though: learn Biblical languages really well and pick a few poets to read deeply.  I inwardly groaned at the first and was intrigued by the second.  Peterson said that as people who use language extensively, pastors should read poetry to increase your grasp of how English works.  Poets are the people who play with language—vocabulary choices, rhythm, stress, imagery, metaphor, punctuation.  He suggested picking 3-4 poets who you read regularly and get to know well.  I haven’t been as intentional as he about sticking with certain poets, but I have found myself reading poetry more in the last two years of my life than any time before.
    
Before this point in my life I have not been a huge poetry fan.  I didn’t actively dislike it, but with few exceptions I didn’t love it, either.  I am not the best poetry reader and I’m a worse poetry writer.  I did read enough poetry when I was an English major to get a sense of styles I am drawn to and those I’m not (lets just say that T.S. Eliot will never be one of the 3-4 poets I dwell one).

So why did I start reading more poetry once I became a pastor?  I don’t think it was just because Eugene Peterson said I should or the inner English major who always wished I was better with poetry.  In the “Author Q & A” of Lauren Winner’s Still: Notes on a Mid-life Faith Crisis she talks about why she reads and writes about poetry.  Winner bases her answer on an observation by Richard Rohr that our spiritual lives have two halves—the season where you build a spiritual identity and the season where you face crisis and come to know God in a deeper way.  “Rohr says that in the second half of your spiritual life you may find yourself reading a lot of poetry.  Maybe, before, you read dogmatics or self-help how-tos or narrative history.  Before, poetry may have seemed elusive and loopy.  In the second of Rohr’s two halves, you like the space that poetry offers” (pg. 205-206). 

In the messiness of being a pastor, I like that space poetry offers.  Every day I face questions and ambiguities about faith and life.  There are the questions that inevitably come with reading scripture.  There are difficult situations in people’s lives that pastors are called to walk through with them.  There are specific applications of how we love our neighborhood, like do we help this person with their rent?  And who am I in all of this; what does it mean to be a pastor? 

In the messiness, poetry gives space.  Space to be.  Space to live with the ambiguity.  Space to question and wonder and enjoy something beautiful.  In her book about being good stewards of language, Caring for Words in a Culture of Lies, Marilyn Chandler McEntyre says, “poetry can teach us specific skills that we need now more than ever to cultivate if we are to retain a capacity for subtlety” (pg. 159). 
Good poetry doesn’t try to give all the answers and tie everything up into neat bows.  It isn’t full of platitudes.  I appreciate that because it is honest and authentic.  That's the kind of person I want to be, too—someone who can hold up to the pressure of the ambiguities in my own life and others lives.  I don’t think that it is a coincidence that one of my favorite books of the Bible is Psalms, a book full of poems.  In the psalms I find that same sort of honesty and authenticity as in other poetry.  The psalmist doesn’t usually sugarcoat things.  If he (or possibly she) is angry at God or feels wronged by God, he says so directly.  The psalms don’t always wrap everything up neatly, although they almost always end with a statement of trust in God.  The psalms, and other poems, give space to live with the ambiguity that comes from living in a broken world.  Poems can also point us towards  the hope that we have in Christ, that things are ultimately secure, even if they appear to be falling apart. 

I’m going to keep reading poetry, to keep finding that space and keep honing my skill with language.  I’ll keep sharing some of my favorite poems here, as I’ve done in the past.  The poets I have read the most in the past couple of years (in addition to the Psalms) are Scott Cairns, Mary Oliver, Robert Frost, and Luci Shaw.  The Poetry of Robert Frost is on my bed stand right now, so perhaps he’ll show up here next. 

Photo by Liesbeth den Toom, used under a Creative Commons License.

Sunday Afternoon Prayer: He Didn’t Know Where He Was Going

 

 

“By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going.  By faith he made his home in the promised land like a stranger in a foreign country; he lived in tents, as did Isaac and Jacob, who were heirs with him of the same promise.  For he was looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God.  And by faith even Sarah, who was past childbearing age, was enabled to bear children because she considered him faithful who had made the promise.  And so from this one man, and he as good as dead, came descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and as countless as the sand on the seashore” (Hebrews 11:8-12).

 

 

 

God of Abraham,

You called Abraham to a place, but you didn’t tell him where it was.

You asked him to make a leap of faith, to trust that you were faithful and had a plan.

You made crazy promises (descendants to an infertile couple?) to Abraham,

and you kept your promises.

 

Promise-keeping God,

I’m really holding on to the fact that you are faithful, because things look pretty confusing right now.

I’m trusting that you have called me to a place, but haven’t told me where it is yet.

I’m packing my boxes, trying to figure out what I’ll need if the waiting lasts 2 months, and what I’ll need if its 4 more months, or 6 months,

trusting that you have a plan for all of this.

 

Faithful God,

Give me the faith of Abraham, the faith to trust you to guide me to a place,

Give me the trust of Abraham to make my home in a temporary place,

Give me the patience to wait to see how you’ll work,

because I “consider him faithful who had made the promise.”

Amen.

 

Photo by Joana Bourne, used under a Creative Commons License.

Everything That Rises Must Converge

Two years ago this week, I started working at Church of the Servant.  I had just graduated from seminary a few months earlier and it was my first pastoral call.  I was nervous.  I wasn’t completely sure I would actually like being a pastor full-time.  And I wasn’t exactly sure what it meant that I was now a pastor.

Throughout seminary, I felt torn.  Before I went to seminary I taught English in China.  That had been an interest of mine since I was in high school.  I went to college with that in mind.  I was an English major and Chinese minor.  And I loved teaching English.  If I had chosen my life’s path I would have gotten an MA in TESOL (teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages).  Instead, God called me to seminary, to the world to theology, Biblical languages and studies, church history, and pastoral care.  And there were lots of moments that I felt lost and out of place.  I would hear people talking outside of class and have no idea who or what they were talking about.  I grew to enjoy seminary and had wonderful internships.  But I still felt like I had two parts.  I had the English teacher part of me and the pastor/seminarian part of me.  And they didn’t go together.

Then I started at COS where I became the primary pastor for the Basic English Service.  As I prepared sermons, I needed the skills I learned teaching English of explaining abstract or difficult concepts with simple words.  I needed the skills I learned in seminary of how to read a Biblical text well and understand what it is saying.  I needed the skill of speaking slowly naturally and articulating words carefully.  I needed the systematic theology I learned to help explain what Christians believe.  I needed all of the cross-cultural skills that I had developed.  I needed to know how to structure a sermon effectively. 
  
In this call, the English teacher part of me and the pastor part of me started to come together.  The threads of my life started to get pulled together into one strand instead of being separate.  My spiritual director shared a phrase with me, the title of a Flannery O’Connor short story, “everything that rises must converge.”  This has been true for me in the last two years.  Everything that had risen in my life converged, and I am so grateful.
I am grateful for the opportunity to preach in this unusual environment and the ways that it has shaped my preaching.  Preaching regularly to a community has helped me form a rhythm of sermon preparation and become comfortable with preaching.  It is still always a little nerve-wracking somewhere in the process, but it also feels like this is what I do, because I am a pastor now.  And preaching in this unique service helped me to hone in on being clear and having one point in mind.  It helped me to think through what is most important in the given passage and leave lots of interesting but not essential information in the study.  It was a privilege to preach to many people that were hearing the story of the Bible for the first time, and I hope that I keep that in mind even if I am in a church where they are a lower percentage of the congregation.

I am grateful for the opportunity to work with the wonderful staff at COS.  They respected me as a colleague, encouraged me when things were difficult, modeled practices of Christian ministry, and loved me.  I learned a lot from spending time with them in the church kitchen and work room, listening in to conversations about the budget, handling pastoral situations, and picking curriculum for kids.  The high rate of turnover with residents is hard for the staff because they get attached to us and then two years are over and we leave, so I am especially thankful that they took the time to get to know me and allow me to learn so much.
I am grateful for the many cups of chai (both Nepalese and Sri Lankan versions) I drank in people’s homes.  I was welcomed into people’s homes with such gracious hospitality.  I don’t think I was ever told I couldn’t come, and it was a rare day when I wasn’t offered chai, or juice, or fruit.  Americans (and I am not an exception) are not that good at being hospitable to strangers.  I hope that I will be able to share some of the hospitality I received with others.  It was a privilege to be welcomed in to homes, to hear the stories of people in my congregation (most of whom were refugees), and walk alongside them in life.  I am thankful for their love and their prayers.
 
I am grateful for the strong volunteer base at COS.  Every program I worked with had strong volunteer leaders—people who dedicate hours of their time and energy to serving the church and community.  I’ll admit, sometimes this was frustrating and sometimes those leaders were frustrated with me.  But I am thankful for the relationships that formed and that we ended on a good note.  I feel at peace that even relationships that were sometimes tense ended well, and I am so thankful. 

I am grateful that many of my experiences, gifts, and interests have risen in my life and converged together in becoming a pastor.  In these two years, I became a pastor in an important way.  I am not wondering if I can do it anymore.  I am not trying to imagine how I would face pastoral situations the way I was two years ago.  Although my time being a pastor at COS has come to an end, and I don’t know where I will be called next, I am a pastor now.  I look forward to the (yet-to-be-determined) day when I start my next call, when I can take all I learned at COS and be a pastor in a new congregation. 

Everything that rises has converged.  Thanks be to God!   

Sunday Afternoon Prayers: For a Bittersweet Day

Today is bittersweet.  It was my last Sunday morning with my congregation.  I am so thankful for these two years, and it is so hard to say goodbye.  And so today I offer two prayers.  Both of these prayers originate in Africa and came to me in An African Prayer Book.

My prayer of thanksgiving, for the people I have had the opportunity to know from around the world and for the ways that they have shown that church can be like a big family.

Our Churches Are Like Big Families

Lord, we thank you that our churches are like big families.
Lord, let your spirit of reconciliation blow over all the earth.
Let Christians live in your love.
Lord, we praise you in Europe's cathedrals, in America's offerings, 
And in our African songs of praise.
Lord, we thank you that we have brothers and sisters in all the world.
Be with them that make peace.
Amen. (West Africa, pg. 65-66).

And my prayer for the people that I am leaving, that God will continue to be at work in and through them and will continue to hold them in the palm of his hand.

The Privilege Is Ours To Share In the Loving

Almighty God, our heavenly Father, the privilege is ours to share in the loving, healing, reconciling mission of your Son Jesus Christ, our Lord, in this age and wherever we are.  Since without you we can do no good thing.
     May your Spirit make us wise;
     May your Spirit guide us;
     May your Spirit renew us;
     May your Spirit strengthen us;
So that we will be:
     Strong in faith,
     Discerning in proclamation,
     Courageous in witness,
     Persistent in good deeds.
This we ask through the name of the Father.
(Church of the Province of the West Indies, pg. 96-97)


Prayers from An African Prayerbook, selected and with an introduction by Desmond Tutu, Image/Doubleday books, 1995.
Photo by John Flanigan, http://www.flickr.com/photos/82369865@N00/5414528258/in/photolist-9fsSBu, used under a Creative Commons License

Trouble and Grace

"The world is Trouble...and Grace.  That is all there is."

So concludes Henry Smith in Gary Schmidt's young adult novel, Trouble (pg. 296).   Trouble tells the story of Henry's family's failed attempts to avoid Trouble, and how they find Grace instead.  The Smith family is old money in Massachusetts.  They live in a home that has stood strong for 300 years.  Henry's father always said, "if you build your house far enough away from Trouble, then Trouble will never find you" (pg. 1). 

You know when that is the first line of a novel, their existence will soon change, because Trouble is lurking just around the corner in this world.  Trouble does come and it changes the family forever.  I don't want to spoil the novel for you, but Trouble comes in the form of cars, history, prejudice, arson, love, and death.  The family discovers you can't actually avoid Trouble.  It is everywhere, whether you like it or not.

But as they live with the Trouble, the Smith family also finds Grace.  It turns out to be harder to see and more nuanced than their initial reaction to Trouble: just saying everything is "fine." Grace means making hard decisions about who to love.  Grace means doing things the hard, but right, way.  Grace means taking a hard look at each other and seeing the truth.  It comes in with a whisper, and it changes the Smith family.  In the end, Henry finds Trouble and Grace are all that's left.

Trouble and Grace.  These are also the two words that frame the method I learned to preach.  In

seminary, our basic preaching textbook was called The Four Pages of the Sermon.  The four pages are not literal, but four figurative moves of a sermon (an outline of sorts).  In this method you start by discussing the Trouble in the text and then a parallel Trouble in the world.  Then you move on to the Grace in the text and Grace in the world.  Some of my classmates hated this method (and some of the non-preaching profs weren't that fond of it either), but I found that it worked well for me, especially as I got started.  I'll freely admit it works much better with some types of texts than others--as I preached through the Sermon in the Mount this year I preached very few strict four page sermons.  But even when I use an alternate structure, these rhythms of Trouble and Grace remain.  

The Bible is full of Trouble and Grace. Zechariah and Elizabeth were childless, and God gave them a son.  The writer of Psalm 46 felt like his world was falling apart, and trusted that God would keep him safe.  The foolish man built his house on the sand, and the wise man's house stood strong.  Like the Bible, our lives are full of Trouble and Grace. God brings hope in the midst of dashed expectations. God keeps us safe despite the chaos of our world.  God helps us to build our lives on God.  Even if our lives seem full of one or the other at a particular time, when we think about a congregation, it is inevitably full of both.  Someone who just lost their job sits next to someone who just got promoted.  Trouble and Grace.  And God working in the midst of both.  Sometimes God's Grace is presence with us as we walk through times of Trouble, and sometimes Grace means God removes the Trouble.

For the Smith family, God is present with them through Trouble (although they don't articulate that in the novel).  And God brings them Grace.  That's one of the reasons I have found the rhythms of the Four-Page Method helpful: "The world is Trouble...and Grace.  That is all there is."

Personal Photo at Lake Michigan Recreation Area, June 2013

A Prayer for My Office

As you may know, my current pastoral call is coming to an end soon.  I am a Resident Pastor, which is a two year first call.  Those two years will finish at the end of the month.  This morning, at the start of my last full week in my office, this is my prayer.

Gracious God,

Thank you for this office.
Thank you for the books that line the shelves and the wisdom they've shared with me.
Thank you for the pictures that remind me of people and events that have shaped my life.
Thank you for the children's art inspired by my sermons, reminding me they are listening, too.
Thank you for the table and chairs where I've had so many conversations.
Thank you for the robe and stoles and your call to serve the Church as an ordained minister.

Thank you for this place to pray, study, talk, cry, think, and serve.

As I box it all up soon, I pray for the place I'll unpack it.
I don't know where that is yet, but you do.
Show me where it is.  And help me to wait patiently in the meantime.
Help my new congregation to wait, too.  
Guide our steps as we get to know each other.  

This room will be empty for a day or two, waiting for the new occupant to move in.
Bless him and his ministry here.
May this place and the people here be as much of a blessing to him as they've been to me.

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

Sunday Afternoon Prayer: We Will Not Be Afraid

My prayer this afternoon is Psalm 46, which was my sermon text this morning, for my last sermon at COS.  It is a prayer of trust for people whose world is changing.  

God is our refuge and strength,

    an ever-present help in trouble.
 Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
    and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
 though its waters roar and foam
    and the mountains quake with their surging.

 There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
    the holy place where the Most High dwells.
 God is within her, she will not fall;
    God will help her at break of day.
 Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall;
    he lifts his voice, the earth melts.

 The Lord Almighty is with us;
    the God of Jacob is our fortress.

Come and see what the Lord has done,
    the desolations he has brought on the earth.
 He makes wars cease
    to the ends of the earth.
He breaks the bow and shatters the spear;
    he burns the shields with fire.
 He says, “Be still, and know that I am God;
    I will be exalted among the nations,
    I will be exalted in the earth.”

 The Lord Almighty is with us;
    the God of Jacob is our fortress.

Personal photo, Muskegon State Park, April 2013.

Sunday Afternoon Prayer: Psalm 42 & 43

This song has been my prayer this week.  I woke up with the chorus on my heart Monday morning, and it has continued throughout the week.  Greg Scheer, the composer, describes it: "Psalm 42 and 43 are set to a haunting, melancholic melody that mirrors the poignancy of the original Psalm text."  You can listen to Greg sing the song on his website.

I think this song is on my heart right now because it both captures the longings of my heart in a challenging time and my trust that God is faithful and will see me through.

1. As the deer pants for the water
so my soul longs for you, my Lord.
When can I come to You again
to praise You as before?

Chorus
Why should I let this sorrow fill my soul?
My life is in His Hands, my hope is in the Lord;
and He, I know, will be my Savior still.

2. Day after day He sends His love
I feel His peace come raining down.
I raise a song to Him at night
like fire from the ground.

3. Send me Your light and truth to guide me
as I travel through this land.
Lead me to Your holy dwelling
at my journey's end.

If you would like to sing this song in your congregation, music is available on Greg's website and it is included in the recently released Lift Up Your Hearts hymnal.

Photo by Paul Gorbould.  Used under a Creative Commons License.

Bones and the CRC Synod

One of my favorite TV shows is Bones, a show about a FBI agent and forensic anthropologist who team up to solve murders.  The FBI agent, Seeley Booth, is a tough guy with an instinct for reading people.  He is a practicing Catholic who believes there is more to life than what we can see.  The forensic anthropologist, Temperance Brennan aka “Bones,” is a committed scientist.  She thinks with her head through the scientific process and believes only in what can be proved scientifically. 

These two opposites have to learn to work together.  In the first seasons, they fight a lot.  As time goes on, they learn to appreciate each other’s strengths.  Brennan can tell things from the bones of murder victims that Booth would never be able to.  Booth can tell when a suspect is lying and pick up subtle social interactions.  Together they make a great team.  After a few seasons, they start to rub off on each other.  Booth starts to appreciate what science can tell them about the murder.  Brennan starts to become better at people interactions.  Getting to that point is not without its conflicts, though.  Booth and Brennan fight and hurt each other, again and again.  But they stick to it; they forgive each other and keep working at it.

This week is the Christian Reformed Church’s Synod, our highest governing body.  They have covered many topics this week: homosexuality, capital punishment, the role of deacons, ethnic diversity in leadership, and how to live with our decisions on women in office.  These are big issues that we do not all agree on.  As I watched the discussion that related to the ordination of women, I was struck with how thoughtful most of the dialogue was.  The issue at hand this year is what classis (regional group of churches) two churches who do not believe in women in office should belong to.  Our official denominational position is that you can read scripture with a good Reformed hermeneutic and come to two valid interpretations of the Bible—that women either can be ordained or should not be ordained.  This sounds like a wonderful compromise, but it is often difficult to live out, for people who hold both positions.

Three years ago, these two churches asked synod to move from their classes in Michigan, both of whom seat women as delegates to their classis meeting, to a classis in Minnesota/South Dakota that does not seat women as delegates.  At that time, synod said no for a variety of reasons.  This year, they came back with a new overture (proposal) to create a new classis in Michigan for churches who do not believe in women in office.  Synod denied their request to create a new classis but did permit them to move to the other existing classis.  

The overwhelming majority of speakers who spoke were most concerned with how we can live together despite our differences.  These churches don’t want to leave the denomination, and I am thankful for their commitment, even though I disagree with their interpretation of scripture.  At the same time, I don’t want to have to leave the denomination because no church will call me, because I love the CRC, too.  We need each other, like Booth and Brennan.  Our differences can make us stronger.  We don’t all have the same gifts.  And it is hard to work together.  Delegate Rev. Doug Bouws said it well: “Doing church together is a whole lot harder than doing church by yourself.”  We fight.  It is hard.  But we need to find unity in Christ and forgive one another.  I also really appreciated the comments of Rev. Timothy Howerzyl of Classis Zeeland, which I know has struggled hard with this issue.  He said, “I hope there are not churches thinking about leaving our classis…In our classis we have a great diversity of opinions, but we’ve forged a careful policy of holding together.”

I pray for our denomination, that we would continue to work together for unity in our diversity.  I pray that we will continue to work together, even when we don’t agree with one another on this, or any number of other issues.  I pray that we will offer grace and forgiveness to each other, even on those days when it is hard and we just want to leave.  I pray that we will stick it out and do church together, even when it is the harder thing to do.

Photo from amazon.com