Sowing Buttercups and Daisies

How did those get there, I wondered?  Jill, my gardener spouse, reminded me that we spread a packet of Buttercup seeds in some topsoil so that we could enjoy them as we walked the paths in our yard.  There are about a dozen of them this year.  We do nothing to help them grow or to come back year after year.  We just count on the rain and the sun and the warmth to keep them happy, and we hope that the deer don’t like Buttercups. (If you are singing “Build Me Up Buttercup” right now you are not alone.)

Further along the path are dozens of daisies. They are the white petal/yellow center variety (“Shasta daisy” for you gardeners).  We didn’t put them there so far as we can remember. I did sow some wildflowers about fifty yards away from their current location some eighteen years ago, so maybe they migrated there from that effort, but I won’t take the credit.  We used to mow the area where they sprout now. Maybe that is how the seeds spread.  I can’t be sure how they go there, but they are quite a picture.

Isn’t it a wonder that the Sower keeps spreading seeds that figure out a way to survive with the least bit of human help? I mean, you can mow the flowers down this year and next year you get more of them.  We live on top of what amounts to a rock quarry. Poor soil. Lots of rocks.  And the seeds keep spreading and growing anyway.  If we put some good soil down we get different flowers, the variety that need some deeper soil in which to sink their roots. I like them both, the Buttercups and the Daisies. 

The joy of exploring wild flowers is that you can’t quite be sure how they got there. Maybe you had something to do with it. Maybe nature (or God, depending on your point of view) gets the credit for putting them there, for making them grow.  I just know this much: the Sower has enough seeds that he pretty much doesn’t worry about where those seeds land.  Why, you can find flowers peeking up through the rocks, right?  The Sower just keeps on sowing, never worried that the supplies of seeds will run out, never worried about finding perfect soil to receive the gift of the seed. Sure, the Sower likes to see Buttercups take root in deep soil, but the Sower is just as happy to find Daisies sprouting in the shallow soil of fields. They are all beautiful. They all got there somehow.

“Whoever has ears, let them hear.” (Matthew 13:9)

Should Christians Boo?

Danica Patrick is a professional race car driver. She is a lightning rod for controversy in the world of racing because she, her detractors believe, is given position and privilege because she gets publicity for her sponsors more for her looks and gender than for her driving skills.  Her supporters see her as a hero who is breaking gender boundaries and setting an example for girls, showing the way for breaking the “glass ceiling” in male-dominated pursuits.

Ms. Patrick’s latest controversy comes about because she called out a fan who was booing her for failing to give him an autograph. As Ms. Patrick tells her side of the story, when she heard the “boo” she ‘had a moment’, meaning she sort of mentally flipped out. She marched over to the fan and said, “"I'm a person too. I have feelings. When you boo me, it hurts my feelings."

Now, I can make a good case for putting blame on Ms. Patrick for being overly-sensitive. She is a public figure and if you want to be in the public eye sometimes you will get booed.  But, I would rather make a case that the fan who booed stepped over the line. We wouldn’t endorse the fan physically hitting her with a stick, so why do we think it is acceptable to hurt with words.  Sticks and stones break bones, and words break spirits. 

You may be wondering why I am wasting your time on this when, instead,  I should be writing about the horrible state of affairs that leads a deranged man to open fire of human beings because he disagrees with their politics.  Consider this: Public discourse (TV interviews; Twitter; Facebook) has created in the minds of deranged people the justification they are looking for to do horrible acts of violence.  The problem is that public discourse has become so disrespectful, with seemingly no boundaries, that nothing shocks our eyes or ears. We need to see how our horrible public language has created an environment which, in the minds of the deranged, justifies hateful acts.

If Christians are going to transform the world, and that is our call, then the beginning point is to change the language we speak from hate to love. To “boo” another person, even if it is deserved, is to contribute to social language which creates an environment of hate and hateful acts.  What can you do to change a world which is becoming more and more hateful? Don’t boo. It’s a start.

Graduate Into Who You Were Meant to Be

Maybe life needs more graduation days.  A day where you can say of a period of your life that you at least survived, if not necessarily thrived. I don’t know that I would go so far as to say that Graduation Day is wasted on the young, but I am not so sure that they “get it”.  For high school graduates there is a sense of accomplishment, but mostly a sense of “freedom”. For college graduates there is a sense of completion, but also a sense of dread, as in “now what?”  What Graduation Day should be about is examining our lives with the question, “Who do I want to be?”

If we could have more “graduation days”, we would be recognized by society, family and friends for successfully completing the various stages of life: getting a job; paying for your own housing from your own paycheck; finding a mate with whom to share life and, for some, to expand the gene pool; finding a way to retire with grace and purpose.  We do have, of course, some version of “graduation day” for these life events, usually some sort of “party.”  But I think we need something more serious than a few stupid jokes and a couple of drinks to mark life’s progress.

I am advocating more frequent graduation day exercises which invite us to examine whether we have yet discovered who the person is that God wants us to be:

 “Could’st thou in vision see

Thyself the man God meant,

Thou never more could’st be

The man thou art, content.” Emerson

Like the song says, we are tempted to just keep “Dancing through life/skimming the surface”, living the “unexamined life.” To get the most joy out of life we should instead invite others to help us see the vision that God has for our lives, and to help us not be content with who we are until we live into that vision.

Can you think of anything that would bring more joy on your final graduation day than to know that the person you ended up being is the person God meant you to be?

"Tale as Old as Time"

Just what is the “tale as old as time”? 

Tuesday was not a good day for me.  It was one of those cold, dreary May days in which nothing was going right; one of those days that persuades me “spring” and its promise of “new life” is a myth invented by those famous ‘old wives’.  So when Jill suggested a trip to the movies to see “Beauty and the Beast” I jumped at the chance. Buttered popcorn solves a lot of life’s little problems.

The movie tells a “tale as old as time”, as you know, and if you don’t then this is your “spoiler alert”.  The handsome prince becomes a hideous Beast because he fails to see the beauty inside a woman who comes for help at his castle door. He will remain forever the Beast unless someone loves him before the final petal of a magical rose falls.  The Beauty finally does express her love for the Beast, but not until after the final petal has fallen, and not until after the Beast has been killed in his defense of the beauty from her enemy.  Now, I have to tell you, I have seen this story in movie and theatre form, but I had forgotten that the Beast dies as the final rose petal falls. I thought, “Oh no, did they modernize the movie and let the Beast die?”  Silly me.  What kind of ending is that to a tale as old as time? The Beast, of course, rises in a swirl of sound and sight and the entire castle and environs are restored. Dark becomes light. Brokenness is healed. Death becomes life. Love wins.

So, what is the tale as old as time, I wondered. That animals and humans can love each other? While true on some level, I don’t think that is the point of this tale. That beauty is only skin deep? No, the prince and princess each gain a companion with a beautiful outward appearance.  That true love transforms people’s personalities? That might be closer to the meaning of the tale.

But I think the real tale as old as time is that when you love someone not for their appearance, and even when that love is not returned; when sacrificial love is offered, then death is defeated. What makes such a tale remain part of the campfire stories library for as long as time is not that “boy gets girl”, but that transforming love acts to save the object of one’s love expecting nothing in return. Such love happens because love is “other-centered”; such love is unselfish. Such love is what grace might look like if expressed in a tale as old as time.

It is this kind of love alone which allows the Lover to say to all who will listen, “Even though you die, you will live. Do you believe this?”

"Oh, Daughter"

That there are children of church-going parents who have “left” the Church, who deny God, is hardly news. That there are parents who won’t give up on their hope that God has not left their children ought to be news. And that is what this story is about.

A Grandma raises her daughter to love God and neighbor.  That daughter becomes a Mom who raises her daughter the very same way. But then college happens. And that daughter/granddaughter finds out about life and living and worldviews which make the “church” and “religion”, and even “God”, seem like “fake news” made up by insecure, simple-minded old folks.

Well, one day Granddaughter tells Mom that she doesn’t know if God exists. She proclaims herself to be an “agnostic” (as opposed to an “atheist”, who claims to believe that there is no “god.”)  She announces to Mother, and in turn to Grandmother, that, well, maybe there is no “god” after all, and if there is no “god” then you certainly don’t need a church or religion.   

Anyway, Grandma sends Mom last week’s entry (“Oh Mom” 5/12/17) and Mom tells Grandma that this is how she reacted:

“I agree with his wisdom here - especially with my current status of being the mother of an 'agnostic'.  Like I told (Mary), when she was very distressed about telling me her current spiritual belief for fear of distressing me:  ‘I will continue to pray to God that He will reveal the truth of Himself to you.  If my beliefs about God aren't true, then there's no damage done.  But if they are, I won't live in perpetual distress about your spiritual condition because I believe the Holy Spirit can and does influence people's minds and heart towards God.’”

Isn’t that profound?  It is a wonderful view of how to respond to a non-believing child with grace and humility.  She is not saying “Oh, Daughter, believe!” She is saying, “Oh, Spirit, help her unbelief!” Jesus promises that he will send the Holy Spirit to assist in making that prayer effective.  Faith flows from God’s gift of faith.

There are a lot of “Marys” who do not yet know how much they are loved by God.  But one day they will. To all of you Grandmas and Moms out there with a “Mary”, let me assure you, she is not lost. She is just not yet found.  Keep on loving like Jesus loved; keep on praying for the Spirit’s power “to influence her mind and heart towards God”; keep before your mind’s eye the beautiful picture of the three of you together forever.

"Oh, Mom"

Mother’s Day is traditionally the third-highest attended worship service, following Easter and Christmas Eve.  Why? It is not celebrating some aspect of the gospel story, like the birth or resurrection of Jesus Christ.  What accounts for the pattern of higher attendance on the 2^nd Sunday of May? Here is my theory:  Moms are the spiritual center of their families.  Of course, in some families the Dad is the “spiritual director”, but more often than not, based on my observation, the mother is the stronger faith motivator for the children. So, when it comes to Mother’s Day, a Mother is able to motivate her family to attend worship with her. One Mom told me straight out, as she walked in the door with her entire family (an unusual event), “I told them the best gift they could give me for Mother’s Day was to go to church with me.” 

I got to thinking about this after I read an advice column written by Carolyn Hax (Milwaukee Journal Sentinel 5.12.17) in which a young woman was seeking advice for how to deal with her mother who would not relent on pushing religion. The young woman and her husband had “chosen not to continue” to observe their religious practices. When her Mom would ask about certain practices, especially after the grandchildren were born, the mother and daughter would end up in huge fights, taking months to repair.  So, what’s a daughter to do, Carolyn?  The advice given was to “disengage”; that is, don’t talk about it; change the subject; respond to a question about religion with, “I love you, Mom.”

I like that  advice.  The writer of Hebrews says “And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another….” (10:24-25) I often tell Moms (and this comes up a lot!), don’t push religion on your adult children. If it is practical, offer to bring the grandchildren to worship or education events on your own. Pray for them and trust in the promise of baptism. Let the Spirit do the heavy lifting of bringing them into a faith community.  It appears that the practice of “not meeting together” is a complaint going back to the earliest churches.  It continues today, of course, but that doesn’t mean non-attenders are “lost children.”  Find ways to encourage your children and grandchildren which don’t result in an “Oh, Mom” response accompanied by an eye roll.

You could always begin by asking your children to worship with you on Mother’s Day…and offer to feed them afterwards!  A mother’s work is never done, right Moms?

Planning the Funeral

The day after a loved one dies is the first day that reality starts to take hold. Customs vary by region and faith, but, the dawning of the day after is not a day to sit idly by the window meditating on the life of the lost one, the lost relationship. There is too much to do.

I have sat on these “days after” with many families. The most difficult, painful, emotionally wrenching encounters are with mothers and fathers who have lost a child, minor or adult.  There are literally no words of comfort. All you can do is cry along with the grieving and try to plan the funeral, one step at a time.

I try imagine the challenge of trying to console Mary on Saturday morning.  Hadn’t the angel made this very clear, that she was “highly favored”? Hadn’t it been promised that her son would be given the “throne of his father David”? Hadn’t Elizabeth prophesied that both she and Jesus would be “blessed”?  But now, instead of having the front seat to the coronation of her son the king, she spent Friday afternoon lying in the dirt as her son’s blood dripped all around her during his death by torture. And they placed him in the tomb.

Now it is the day after.  Everyone sits around, trying to recall the words he spoke. How could he, how could everyone who followed him have been so wrong?  But, there is a funeral to plan.  What songs shall we sing? “They said ‘Sing us one of the songs of Zion!’ How can we sing the songs of the LORD while in a foreign land?”  Who will dare try to sum up his life in a eulogy? Will anyone come as we sit together, or will they everyone be too fearful, too ashamed to be seen with Mary, the woman who said God visited her?

I wonder if maybe, just maybe, this funeral planning was put on hold for a day because Mary still believed that her son would be king?

Maybe the ‘other Mary’ told Mary she felt the earth stirring up a recipe of hope this Saturday.  “Hold off on that funeral, Mary.” Maybe it was just words meant to comfort. Maybe it was true.  Let’s see what the morning brings, shall we?

Shalom,

Pastor Bill

P.S. I will be taking my “spring writing break” for a while.  Thank you for your faithful readership!  Lord willing, we will re-connect in good time.