La La Dreams

Dreamer.  I admit to being one. How about you?

My day “off” is Tuesday.  This past Tuesday my wife, Jill, and I went on a date to a $5 Tuesdays movie. You get a $2 hot dog and free popcorn.  As I entered the movie theatre building I suddenly found myself amid all these older looking people. Standing in line for our free popcorn I whispered to Jill, only half in jest, “We don’t look that old, do we?”  We laughed pretty hard.

Which was all prelude to seeing La La Land, the new musical romantic drama/comedy/tragedy (you can pick the category after you see it). The plot is familiar (boy gets girl, boy loses girl, etc.). There is a twist to the familiar plot, but I don’t want to spoil it for you. The singing and dancing, while not traditional, work as the music enhances and expands the storyline.  The film is beautiful, and I mean to use that precise word.  I loved everything about this movie, especially the acting of the lead, Ms. Emma Stone.  She does an Oscar-worthy job of allowing her face to reveal her heart.

But what most interested me, and what caused my ride home to be quite melancholy, is the film’s treatment of dreams: dreams realized, dreams deferred, and dreams denied. We all live each of those phases of life’s dreams.  There is a dinner scene in which the two leads have a conversation which, if I was alone, would have caused me to sob out loud.  I wept quietly through it because it reminded me of my dreams of decades ago, some realized, some deferred, some denied. It was a good cry, though, honestly earned by the actors and the script’s author.

But, here is what I am thinking as I struggle with the movie’s ending. I am nearing 63 years of age. I don’t want to be done dreaming. I do not believe God is done giving me dreams, and I want them, even though some will be some deferred, some denied. I want to still have La La Dreams. I hope that, at this age in which I have a deeper appreciation for the fact that the final credits will one day roll, and with the wisdom which comes from having failed and succeeded before, I will be able to know which dreams to strive to make a reality, and which to let die.

You still dream dreams, right? If you want to live the dreams that sing the best tunes, then you need to let die the dissonant dreams, the ones that get in the way of the most important dreams. 

May God give you the grace to dream dreams and the wisdom to live into the dreams which have your favorite melody.  La La! 

How To Become a Great Person

Larger than life. This week made me think about larger than life people. Monday was a day set aside to remember the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.. You have to be among the largest of larger than life figures to have a nation honor your memory with a day.  Friday was a day set aside to observe the transition of the world’s most powerful political position, the President of the United States of America, also known less formally as the Leader of the Free World.  No pressure there.  The transition happened with all of the pomp and circumstance which this most important transition of power commands: President Obama flies away and President Trump is escorted to the people’s home past many thousands of cheering supporters.

Today many thousands of people march those same streets to register their opposition to the policies of the same man who was yesterday cheered.  The juxtaposition of these two “parades” shows the genius of our nation’s Constitution and character, for, as F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote, "The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposing ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function."  Our nation functions, left and right, conservative and liberal, with two wildly different understandings of what it means for a nation to be “great again.” Genius.

But the other thing that these two parades show is how fleeting fame, or glory, or greatness is; the difficulties that arise for one thrust onto the “larger than life” stage.  At the end of the movie, Patton, the great and controversial General is walking away from the camera reciting the words that are spoken to ancient conquering heroes, “All glory is fleeting.”  I pray success for our nation and our new President, but I also pray for the loyal opposition to be allowed to function with gusto.  Presidents and their policies come and go, one flying away and another marching home, but the power of the people must remain the constant.  These are the “great persons”, the larger than life people upon whom the functioning of the world depends as they live and serve the greater good.

“Jesus gave us a new norm of greatness…(R)ecognize that he who is greatest among you shall be your servant. That’s a new definition of greatness….You don’t have to have a college degree to serve…You don’t have to know about Plato and Aristotle to serve. You don’t have to know Einstein’s theory of relativity to serve…You only need a heart full of grace, a soul generated by love. And you can be that servant.”  Martin Luther King, Jr. Source: Drum Major Instinct (last sermon 4 Feb 1968) (discovered at inward/outward)

Winter's Joy

I love winter because it is so different from summer. The sun dances on the new snow in a way no artist can replicate. And, how about this word: SNOWBOUND. Now there is a word of pure joy.  You wake up in the morning and the snow drifts are so high that you cannot even think about going to work. So you stay in your soft clothes, make some coffee (or hot chocolate!), and spend a day doing nothing, except maybe playing in the snow, and then having more hot chocolate!

Speaking of soft clothes, are these not the world’s greatest fashion discovery? Soft clothes are wonderful because they are so, well, soft, and warm and generous. After a big meal of comfort food (two helpings of meat loaf and potatoes and corn covered with butter), you take off the working day clothes, especially that belt, and you put on your warm, expandable soft clothes and read a book or watch a movie and take a nap before it’s time to go to bed. Did I mention I love winter?

As a friend mentioned to me this week, which has been a particularly brutal one with snow and sleet and something they all “wintry mix”, she loves winter because her life slows down. Life forces her to stay inside enjoying the fire burning from the firewood she collected from the outside.  The slower pace of winter is just what the soul needs a few months of ever year. You can find joy in slowness, and sometimes it takes a “wintry mix” to force us to discover the joy of a slower pace.

Which all reminds me of Pablo Picasso’s words: “Without great solitude no serious work is possible.” (discovered at “inward/outward”)  The joy of winter is that it offers opportunities for solitude, which can only happen when we “slow down, you move to fast…”.  Great work doesn’t happen necessarily happen during solitude, but it is the fertilizer of the mind and heart which produces great work.  If you want to really talk with God this week, try first slowing down, seek solitude, and, if necessary, pray for a snow storm. I will enjoy every moment of it with you.

Oh, and for our warm weather readers, you will need to find solitude on a hot day as you sit by the pool, sipping one of those drinks with little umbrellas, dreaming of snow. We will pray for you.

Death, Birth and Epiphany

I was deep in the middle of thinking about the death of Stephen.  I did not know Stephen well. But I knew that he was a kind and compassionate soul, whose thirty years on this earth were complex. I was trying to figure out how to say well, “But, while death is the final battle in this life, for those who die in God’s merciful arms, we have the promise that death has been defeated.”  It is an easy message to write; it is a hard message to deliver to the grieving.  Either way, honestly, their young son and brother is gone, absent from them. For now.

In the middle of that thought the phone rang and it was another mother I had been praying for earlier that day. The mother announced, “Our baby was born today!”  And so we talked about the birth process, and all that went with it, and how, in the end, when Evelyn was revealed, the room was filled with joy.

As we talked, I told Mom, “I am so excited that Evelyn is an Epiphany baby.” That didn’t get a big reaction. I explained that Evelyn was born on January 6, the day the Church celebrates Epiphany, the revealing of Jesus to the world as the long-awaited Messiah; the day when the Wise Men show up with gifts. Evelyn will be celebrating as long as she lives Epiphany as it should be, with the exchange of gifts to celebrate birth.

As I turned back to my funeral message I was still thinking about Evelyn, how exciting it will be to baptize her, to tell her that Jesus is her brother, and that God has marked her as his own forever. Which led me to think about Stephen’s baptism, some thirty years ago.  God gave a sign then too, to Steven and his parents: “this child is my own forever.”  It is good to remember baptism’s meaning. Perhaps this is why, on the first Sunday after Epiphany, we celebrate the Baptism of Jesus, because baptism is a time of revelation, of discovery. Baptism is an epiphany.

Epiphany is a season of discovery. Discoveries made as baby Evelyn cascaded through the canal into the light; as Stephen was drawn from the darkness of his own hospital room into the Light of the presence of God-With-Us.  Discoveries are still to be made, by you, as you look for God’s revealing light through the “thin places” that separate earth from heaven.  Jesus is still being revealed and discovered. The wise set out on a journey of discovery in this season, praying for eyes to see Light and Hope revealed in dark places.  Let the journey begin, o wise ones.

Jews and Christians Both Light Candles

One of my good friends, who was Jewish, died this year.  I did not get to say good-bye.  Tonight, while I am celebrating Christmas Eve, I am going to light candles. Tonight, if he were here, he would be lighting a candle too, on a menorah, to mark the beginning of Hanukkah. Tonight, I will light one for you.

Tonight, in a rare alignment of calendars, marks the Jewish celebration of Hanukkah and the Christian celebration of Christmas Eve.  While Hanukkah is a celebration of a different miracle of light (the mysteriously un-ending supply of oil that supplied eight days of light during battle by the Maccabees which led to the rededication of the Temple in 166 BC), it is an annual reminder that God sends light into the dark places of our world and our lives.  We can celebrate this other truth as well: Jews and Christians alike await the coming of the promised messiah. As the noted theologian, Martin Buber suggested, “Let’s all pray for the messiah-Christians and Jews alike. When he arrives, we’ll ask if he’s been here before.”  As Rabbi Michael Gottlieb puts it, “Christianity dispels a lot of darkness…. In its glow, it challenges Christians and non-Christians alike to consider that which his transcendent, eternal and greater than all of us.” (WSJ 12.23.16)

Tonight, Jews and Christians around the world will celebrate the miracle of light which sustains us during the battles of life. Tonight, Jews and Christians alike will rededicate themselves to worship God and God alone.  Tonight, we will all draw closer to God by lighting a candle which carries the hope that God still is doing miracles.  Tonight, Jews and Christians alike will think about the messiah, the one who, on the last day, we will have the joy of knowing “he’s been here before.”

I never made one effort to convert my Jewish friend to Christianity. I saw no need to do so. God already saved him. As a recent resolution by a German church organization puts it, “The secret of God’s revelation includes both the expectation of the return of Christ in splendor and the confidence that God will save his first-called people.” (Christian Century, 12.21.16) I believe this beautiful statement of faith expresses precisely the sentiment of Paul’s words: “…all Israel will be saved…for God’s gifts and his call are irrevocable.” (Romans 11:26,29).

Tonight, I will be thinking of my friend. While I did not get to say good-bye, one day he and I will together say, “Hello. Hallelujah. He is here.” 

Happy Hanukkah, friend. Merry Christmas.

What I Saw at Grant School

Smiles. Possibly because it was Friday; or because the teachers wore Christmas sweaters, or a Mrs. Claus’ dress. I told her she must be Mrs. Claus’ daughter because she looked too young to be the “Mrs.” More smiles. It made me happy that my first impression was of teachers and staff who were happy to be there.  I saw children’s smiles too, on the playground where the kids in snow pants and boots slid down little “hills” of snow, making noises of glee only elementary kids can.  I saw the faces of children from nearly every background. I could see why God would make a rainbow of skin colors, because when they play together in the snow they paint a masterpiece.  No skin color is supreme on the playground, just as God intended.

Great books.  The Kids Hope USA (“KHUSA”) lunch was in the Media Center (what we used to call a “Library”), where I could not help myself from looking at the books. I found one which the Librarian let me borrow called “Need It or Want It?”(C. Herd, Rouke Publishing 2012) “A need is something you must have to live a safe and healthy life. Food, clothing, and shelter…” for example.  “A want is something you would like to have, but do not need to survive. A new video game is an example… .”  Now, isn’t that a perfect Christmas story?

Adults loving the kids.  The KHUSA participants from our church ate lunch with their students, some parents and some teachers.  The reason KHUSA can be in a public school is that the program forbids any speaking of religion or church.  The purpose of the program is to show the love of Jesus to children in need without ever saying Jesus’ name. You spend one hour a week to build a relationship with one child.  You spend time helping with homework, but mostly it is time learning to love each other. Can there be a more profound sermon these children hear each week?

I stopped in the Principal’s office to say “thank you”.  In the midst of the organized chaos of the end of the lunch hour and recess, the Principal, in his fun “Packers” sweater, was kind enough to chat for a few moments. I told him how his school gave me hope for our city’s future. This school was forming a future society which could work. What I saw at Grant School was an Advent song of love, peace, even joy: “Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world. (All their faces bear his light), they are precious in his sight. Jesus loves the little children of the world.”  Hope is here.

Disappointment, Doubt and Jesus

...the mother who feels like she is at her last thread of hope with a "problem" child; the spouse who stares at the wall wondering what happened to the marriage;

…the sick person who wonders when, if ever, healing is coming; the child who struggles to find some way to understand that Mom won’t be here this Christmas;

...the survivors of the storms of life, who wonder why the fire happened, why their loved ones were there.

December, the church’s season of Advent, highlights the disappointments of life in a stark way.  The month in which we are supposed to celebrate Hope, Peace, Joy and Love seems to instead be filled with news or memories of just the opposite. And when disappointments persist to those locked into prisons of despair the mind moves to doubt. Is this Jesus really the Messiah we seek?

We can relate, just a little, to John the Baptist who was so fired up to announce the coming of the Messiah, but who finished his days in prison, waiting for the end of his life which ended with a decapitation. How exactly was Jesus being the Messiah for his prophet, John?  Are you the One we have been waiting for, or is there someone else?  John’s inquiry of Jesus becomes our question.

The mission of Jesus then and now, and the concurrent mission of the Church, is to encounter life’s disappointments and doubts with pictures and stories that people with eyes of faith can see. The child who was to die but now is scheduled to graduate from college.  The men and women with “incurable” cancer who instead become cancer “survivors.”  The poor being fed and clothed. The unjustly punished receiving justice.

Advent’s message is that if you look with eyes of faith, you will see just enough; just enough to see disappointment filtered through the lens of Joy; just enough to replace doubt with Hope. The almost hidden beauty of Advent is the promise that Christ is real, here still, and coming again.  Until then the faithful, today's prophets, can be excused expressions of doubt generated by cruel disappointments, for staring at the empty manger and wondering, Jesus, where are you?  Until then the prophets keep going to tell it on the mountain, Christ(mas) is coming. Just you wait...

Shalom,

Pastor Bill