Is Jesus Hiding?

It’s not so much that we are trying to keep it a secret, but in my faith tradition we just don’t seem to pay it too much attention.  I am not sure why. Maybe if it wasn’t so close to Easter the church could work up more energy to celebrate it.  Or maybe, the Ascension of Our Lord is just one step too far in faith for us to talk about. Maybe parts of the church have some sort of collective wish not to talk about Jesus rising above the clouds and disappearing to, well, where? Heaven, yes, but where exactly is that, and how do you get there in bodily form?  Or, perhaps it is just a very practical problem: it is hard to get people to go to church on Thursday, the day Jesus ascended, so it gets lost in the hustle of life. Did you wake up last Thursday praising God for the Ascension of your Lord? 

I have no doubt that Jesus is alive in a glorified body seated next to the Father in some space I cannot see or comprehend.  I am thinking though that the reason we don’t make more of the Ascension is that, not only can we not conceive of how it happened, we cannot conceive of why it happened either.  Is Jesus hiding from us?  It sure seems like it sometimes, doesn’t it?  When I talk with my friends whose parents have died unexpectedly; when I cry with spouses who have loved one who are very, very sick; when I wonder with grandparents about the faith of their grandchildren, it is very easy to ask Jesus, why don’t you come and fix this? Why did you choose to leave us alone?

There is an answer of course. I guess there are two answers, at least.  One is that Jesus told us, if he leaves us he is going to prepare a place for us to be with him and that if he goes, well, he’s coming back again to get us.  The church spends a lot of time worrying about who the “us” is that he’s coming back to retrieve.  I don’t worry about that because John Calvin tells me to assume it is everyone and that God has it all figured out, so don’t fret about it. And, by the way, “us” includes “all Israel.”  You see, we, the Jews and Christians, I figure we are waiting for the same Messiah to come (again.)  But, that is a topic for another day.

And there is a second answer. Jesus didn’t leave us alone. Meet the Holy Spirit, you who are looking for the comforting presence of Jesus.  Oh, and go look in the mirror. Maybe the man or woman staring back at you is the presence of Christ. To someone. Today?

"Still Worth Dying For"

The ironic aspect of giving a memorial tribute is  that the people to whom you offer tribute cannot hear you.  The best you can do is offer your tribute, post-mortem, to the family of the deceased, or to those with whom they served. Of course, when it comes to remembering those who died to establish freedom for a nation, or for the concept of freedom, family and colleagues are often not present either.  But, do we stop remembering the heroes of the Civil War or World War I because there is no one left to thank?  No, we go on giving tribute, year after year, decade after decade, to men and women who to us are anonymous and to whom we were unknown. For good reason.

When a soldier chooses a path of life that may result in death he likely thinks of people he knows and loves as the reason “why” he go down that path.  But perhaps she also thinks of millions she doesn’t know, and millions yet unborn, whom she wants to taste freedom rather than oppression.  Still freedom, as a concept, is worth dying for only if there are practical, living, breathing examples of freedom’s reward.  In the land that claims “freedom” as its song, the native citizens often choose to ignore the reason for the three-day weekend we call Memorial Day.  Perhaps this is because so many don’t know of anyone who died or risks dying for their freedom. How short-sighted they are.

But then there are people like Asim Manizada.  He was pictured in a national newspaper in his room with a large American flag as his only wall decoration. (WSJ, 5.25.14) Mr. Manizada is, I imagine, engaged in some form of memorial tribute this weekend not because he knows the heroes whom the flag represents,  but because he appreciates the freedom they preserved for him.  You see, he is not a citizen yet, but he is signed up to join the United States military so he can quicken his pace of becoming a citizen.  He is a part of a program the military offers to legal immigrants in which, if they have special skills, they can vastly shorten their road to citizenship by serving the nation which they long to call home.  In yet another irony, many of the people most likely to celebrate the meaning of Memorial Day are those do not yet have the freedom they celebrate.

Why offer a memorial tribute this weekend to people you don’t know and who didn’t know you?  Ask Mr. Manizada.  Better yet, ask God. Freedom is still worth dying for.  

What Do You See?

You have likely played those games where someone hands you a piece of paper with black and white shapes and asks you, “What do you see?”  Most people, at first, see nothing but blobs; non-descript blotches of black and white.  But, if you stare at the paper long enough; if you will take the time to focus your eyes and concentrate your mind, you will see an image. What makes the difference? I don’t have a clue. Who do you think I am, a scientist?  But I thought about that exercise, of opening our eyes to see differently things that are right before us,  in the context of living in desperate times, or at least the part about which I have a tiny clue.

This week I encountered three situations faced by people I know and love.  What I learned from each of these dear friends is that the way to face desperate times; the way to live through tragic circumstances, is to re-focus.  One person said to me that, upon learning very bad news about the future, “you cry until you can cry no more, and then you start looking at what can be.”  His point was that, while he could spend his time “beating myself up” dwelling in despair, it wasn’t going to change the outcome. Instead, he started to think about “what could be” instead of “what could not be.”  His approach allows him to, first of all, just function. But, more important, this approach allows him to function in a way which helps him to discover pictures of joy and happiness in circumstances where others would just see random blotches of black and white.

The second lesson I learned from my friend was that if you look at life from the proper perspective you see how God is at work in the midst of our times of despair.  My friend taught me about the importance of faith.  His description of the varied ways he saw God connecting the dots to make a beautiful picture made me think of a twist on an old analogy. One of the blessings that God brings people in times of despair is that they get to see not just the knots on the backside of the quilted picture, but they get to see glimpses of the beautiful picture on the other side.  Eyes of faith see life differently. How is it that the blotches of black and white reveal a picture when we look with eyes of faith?  What makes the difference?  God. God gives the glimpses which happen when we re-focus our eyes to discover truths which really matter in a beautiful way.  There still will be tears in those eyes, but the tears of sorrow will be mixed with tears of joy when those eyes see glimpse of truth.  “Open my eyes that I may see/Glimpses of truth Thou hast for me;…Silently now I wait for Thee; Ready my God, Thy will to see; Open my eyes, illumine me, Spirit divine.” (“Open MY Eyes, That I May See”, Clara Scott)

Disappointment Perspectives

Disappointment can ruin a day, a week, why to some extent, a lifetime.  A friend of thirty years had been struggling with a recent problem, a very serious one. I was helping him through it as best I could. And then, when he most needed help, we had a falling out. He said and did something he regrets. I said and did some things I certainly regret.  I was distraught. Had I failed my friend? Had he failed me?  After thirty years, it ends like this?  The disappointment changed me. I couldn’t stop replaying the whole event in my mind.  I snapped at my wife and had to apologize for making her a victim too.  I couldn’t digest my food; and why eat anyway?  I couldn’t sleep.  And then, in the middle of a sleepless night, I did the only thing I had left to do. I asked God to bless my friend. It was hard to form the words. I didn’t know if my heart was really in it, but I said them anyway.  The next morning I was still angry and, I think, mildly depressed.  After another sleepless night and another wrestle with God about faith and how could this happen, another prayer, and then, slowly, I was changed.  The following day, I vowed to pretend I didn’t care; time to move on.  But I did care. For my friend. So I called him again and told him I wasn’t angry, and I wanted the best possible outcome for him, that I wanted to still support him. I am still disappointed.  But I can sleep. He’s my friend.

In the midst of disappointment, with a parent, a child, a co-worker, a friend, even with God, we need to choose a perspective.  I think these are the options: there is no God; there is a God, who doesn’t care; there is a God who cares, but who is powerless to change anything; there is a God who cares, who weeps with us,  who holds and offers the power of hope.  I choose the last option, not because I think it keeps disappointment away, but because knowing God is there with the gift of hope keeps my disappointment in perspective.  God doesn’t choose to bring me (or you) disappointment.  But when friendships fail, when bodies break down, when I am feeling abandoned and alone, there is one perspective that makes tomorrow possible. I know many of you have much greater disappointments in your life right now than my own.  I can offer only this: Jesus weeps with you; God holds your tomorrow.  And that is why, in the middle of the restless night, we pray, for a new perspective.  It is the last, and best, choice.

“Someone is there….Someone is watching life as it unfolds on this planet. More, Someone is there who loves (you).  (This) is a startling feeling of wild hope...”

(Philip Yancy, Disappointment with God, p. 255)   

What Are YOU Waiting For?

Everyone is waiting for something.  Maybe not all of the time, but most of the time, we are all waiting. For a phone call, an email, an interview, a test result, a birth, a death.

On this day one man was waiting for something unique.  To resurrect with a glorified body. A body that would still eat and walk and talk.  Still, a glorified, un-dying body. Never happened before.  Never happened since.  None of his friends, it seems, though he told them to expect it, were waiting for that to happen. Can you blame them? 

It is said that his waiting was rewarded.  It is said that we are all in a Saturday waiting time zone.  For those who wait with Hope, it is said we will share in waiting’s reward.

“It is a good thing to remember that in the cosmic drama, we live our days on Saturday, the in-between day with no name. I know a woman whose grandmother lies buried under 150-year-old live oak trees in the cemetery of an Episcopal church in rural Louisiana.  In accordance with the grandmother’s instructions, only one word is carved on the tombstone: ‘Waiting.’” (P. Yancy, The Jesus I Never Knew,  p. 275)

It’s Saturday. Something new was stirring in Jesus, dead as dead though he was.  And he waited.  Turns out, it was worth the wait.

It’s Saturday. What stirs within your soul?  What are you waiting for?  When you receive the greatest hope for which you wait, will it have been worth the wait?

The Meaning of the Parade

Giving advice about life and work is a tricky business.  What has life taught me that is really worth repeating to someone 30 or 40 years behind me on the journey?  What won’t sound like the gripes of a man who didn’t get his way? What won’t sound like the boastings of a man who is claiming success which was really earned by others?  What have I learned in life that is really adaptable to someone else’s life, to someone who is going to walk with different people, in different places, in a different time?

That was some of my thinking as I prepared to be interviewed by a seminary student for a class assignment on pastoring a church.  Her last question asked me to summarize in a few points what is most important to remember.  I came up with a few things, like, when you are conversing with people, listen much more than you speak.  Say just enough to let the person you are with tell their story.  I wish I was better at that, frankly.  Listening well is such a lost art on people who aspire to leadership.  And then I said it was important to be willing to fail, and when you do fail, to admit it, learn from it, and move on.  If you are going to lead people in some worthwhile new venture you need to be willing to fail.  If you insist on guaranteed success in your every task you cannot lead boldly.  And I suggested that in all aspects of work, leave room for the Holy Spirit to act. Have a plan of what you want to do or say, but remember that someone else is in control.  The people you work with might be the messengers of a better way.

The most important lesson I tried to pass along was this: remember you are a servant.  The people you serve are more important than you are. Their “success” is more important than your own.  I woke up today thinking about that, and the famous line from Patton.  He says that when a Roman conqueror rode his chariot in glory through the streets of Rome, showered with praise for his success, a servant stood at his ear whispering, “All glory is fleeting.”  Don’t seek glory. Seek the success of the people you are called to serve.  One of the most well-known parades happened on a dusty road near Jerusalem 2100 or so years ago.   The people shouted praise to the man who rode on a donkey.  That praise lasted all of 5 days. Then they killed him.  Had he only rode on the donkey his fame would have been short-lived. 

What God ultimately rewards is work which brings glory to God, not to ourselves.  Only one man was born to die.  For the rest of us, work is one big “thank you.” Work well.

Choosing Your Team

I was talking with a friend of mine about a potential new hire for his business.  We were considering the traits of the applicant and I suggested that she seemed confident. He suggested she seemed arrogant. Which led me to ask, “Where is the line between ‘self-confident’ and ‘arrogant’?  My friend used a sports analogy, and if you don’t follow college sports you may need to look up these names, but he said, “Frank Kaminsky is self-confident; Johnny Manziel is arrogant. One puts himself above the team and believes the rules don’t apply to him. The other works within the system for the betterment of the team. All things being equal I would rather have Kaminsky on my team.”

I cannot really disagree with my friend’s analysis. But it made me think about why we perceive this woman differently.  I wonder if our perception of other people is as much a reflection of who we are as who the other person is?  Do we evaluate people and judge them as good or bad for our own “team” based on who we are as much, if not more, than who the other person is?  Look at, for example, two basketball teams playing in the NCAA’s Final Four.  Wisconsin and Kentucky are generally judged as complete opposites. To mix metaphors, Wisconsin is the work horse and Kentucky is the thoroughbred. Wisconsin is the “I think I can win” team and Kentucky is the “of course we will win” team.  Why do some people like one and some people the other? Regional loyalties aside, it seems the teams we “like” say a lot about us. The character of the team is the same; whether you like the team or not says more about you than it does about the team. This business of deciding who people really are is important, not just in choosing employees, but in choosing friends and spouses.  I think two people, looking at the same employee candidate’s traits, could see those traits in a positive and a negative light.  Here’s a simple example: say “President Obama” in a room full of 10 people and at least two people will have equally strong and opposite reactions. He is one man perceived in two entirely different ways, not because the President is two men, but because the people perceiving him are so different.  The point being, in choosing your team, you need to know as much about yourself as you need to know about the candidates.

Jesus kept asking his friends, “Who do you say I am?” Jesus asked not because he was unsure of his identity, but to help us discover who we are.  Jesus can be perceived as either a “liar, lunatic, or Lord.”  Your choice doesn’t change who Jesus is, but it reveals who you are.  Do you want Jesus on your team? Choose carefully.