Daily Lesson for June 30, 2016

Today's Daily Lesson is from Mother Emanuel Church in Charleston, South Carolina:

We are in Charleston and last night Gabrielle and I went to the Wednesday night Bible study at Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church, where just over a year ago nine church members were murdered in the sanctuary.  The 22-year-old white person soon to be on trial for the murders admitted to the act and said he was intending to set off a race war with the killings.  Instead, the country was inspired by the words of forgiveness which some of the victims' family members spoke to the defendant in an initial hearing.  "Mother Emanuel" then became a symbol of hope and healing for our nation.

"Mother Emanuel" has been the mother church of the black community here in Charleston since 1804, when the church was founded for colored persons both slave and free. In 1822, the church was burned when one of its members, Denmark Vessey, was implicated in a slave revolt.  In 1834 the state of South Carolina outlawed all black houses of worship, out of fear that the black church was becoming a site of resistance and organization amongst black slaves.  Blacks in Charleston continued to meet underground in Charleston until the end of the Civil War.  In 1865, the church came out of hiding and built the church which stands today just off Meeting Street, right down from Charleston's central square and the old slave auction house.  The was when the church took on its name -- "Emanuel", meaning "God is with us".

I am a bit anxious walking into the church. I do not know what to expect and wonder if I will be welcomed. I also feel a little anxious, wondering if the church could be targeted again.  I feel a degree of relief when I see police officer sitting in his car in the parking lot. As Gabrielle and I enter the church into the fellowship hall we are greeted with a broad smile by one of the members. "Welcome," the man says. "Here for the Bible study?"  I nod and he leads us into the hall where there is a winding and worn staircase which leads into the sanctuary.  "Welcome," another man says as we open the door to see both children and adults seated together. Tonight's Bible Study is a bit different and will be a bit chaotic as the half-dozen church members are joined by another half-dozen white visitors and tourists along with about 50 young children who are in Vacation Bible School.  I feel right at home.

We gather near the back of the sanctuary while the children convene us with the Pledge to the Christian Flag, Pledge to the Bible, and Pledge to the Flag of the United States.  As we stand together with our hands over our hearts in the sanctuary where the nine lives were taken, I am especially struck by the words to the Pledge to the Christian Flag:

“I pledge allegiance to the Christian Flag and to the Savior for whose Kingdom it stands. One Savior, crucified, risen, and coming again with life and liberty to all who believe. Amen.”

After the pledges, we sit for the rest of the VBS convocation as a firm and funny woman reminds the children of what they are studying this week: Joseph, the man sold into slavery whose grace and magnanimity towards his brothers stands today a sign of hope and reconciliation the world over. After the children depart for their downstairs study and crafts, we are left with a friendly and soft spoken layman named Keith, a City of Charleston police officer and the husband of the firm and funny woman who is leading the kids.  Keith tells us we will be studying Joseph also.

We stretch across 4 or 5 rows of the old and beautiful dark oak pews and open the Word together. Visitors mostly pull out iPhones or use the pew Bibles, while the members open the covers of well-worn and marked personal Bibles.  Keith leads us in our study and discussion and notes how long it is into the Joseph story before God's name is ever mentioned. Keith asks us why that is and one African American woman in an African-print skirt and top speaks up. "God was there. God is always there. Even when God is silent, God is there," she says. I think again to the meaning of the church's name: Emanuel, "God is with us".

As we continue to talk about the story women from the Altar Guild come and begin to dress the altar in preparation for Communion this coming Sunday. As they lay and neatly spread a white cloth over the table my mind goes back to the Pledge: "One Savior, crucified, risen".  I am here because He was crucified here yet again; and I am here because he rose here yet again also. I am here because they put him in a hole in the ground just like they put Joseph in a hole; and yet the hole could not contain him just like the hole could not contain Joseph -- neither the literal hole nor the hole of bitterness and anger. One Savior, crucified, risen, coming again -- here in this sanctuary.

After the study Keith invites us to a Love Feast downstairs. As we make our transition I take the opportunity to thank and speak with Keith. "Your church is a witness for our nation," I tell him. "We've always had that spirit," he says, "and we're not going to let one person take it away. In fact, we have to pray for him also."

As we make our way back down the stairs into the fellowship hall we enter where the children have been being taught. "Tell me about the Love Feast," I ask Keith.  "This is a meal of spiritual preparation. Sunday we will take Communion and beforehand we take the Love Feast, a little bread and some water, which we take to ready and cleanse us in case we have any bitterness in our hearts towards anyone. We take the meal and then pass the peace."

The Word has now been studied, the altar dressed, the meal partaken, the peace passed. "He is crucified, rise, and coming again with life and liberty to all who believe."

Tonight I believe. "Emanuel" -- even in this place, in this sanctuary.  I believe, and this church helps me in my unbelief.  Emanuel, God is with us.

Daily Lesson for June 29, 2016

Today's Daily Lesson comes from Romans chapter 7 verses 13 through 24:

13 Did that which is good, then, bring death to me? By no means! It was sin, producing death in me through what is good, in order that sin might be shown to be sin, and through the commandment might become sinful beyond measure. 14 For we know that the law is spiritual, but I am of the flesh, sold under sin. 15 For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. 16 Now if I do what I do not want, I agree with the law, that it is good. 17 So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. 18 For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. 19 For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. 20 Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. 21 So I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand. 22 For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, 23 but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. 24 Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?

Now here's a man willing to come clean!  Paul is what they call in AA a person of "rigorous honesty".  In other words, he has done the hard work of telling the truth about himself, and the truth is he is a lot less good than he and others once thought he was.

It cannot be overestimated how difficult this sobering truth must have been for a Pharisee like Paul to swallow. For a person habitually conditioned to think of himself and his people as agents of God's righteousness to then behold the truth in the prophet Isaiah's words that even their "righteous deeds are like filthy rags" is to look into a moral mirror and suddenly see it shattered. The whole concept of self and race and nation is fractured.

Reinhold Niebuhr called this realization the "final enigma of history".  In this enigma unraveled, humanity discovers "not how the righteous will gain victory over the unrighteous, but how the evil in every good and the unrighteousness of the righteous is to be overcome."

Such an enigma is hard, impossible even, to solve. Righteous indignation fights against it. This is the reason it took 150 years for the Southern Baptist Convention to apologize for slavery and (just two weeks ago) call for furling up the Confederate Battle Flag. It took that long to see. I hope it's not another 150 years for my own Cooperative Baptist Fellowship to see its own injustice towards the LGBTQ community. But the unrighteous of the righteous is the hardest thing in the world to see. It's the log in our own eye.

Paul says, "What I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do."  What we want to do is be good people. I want to be a good man. But the irony is that in becoming good we discover the truth of Jesus' words, that in fact, "No one is good but God alone."

That's a sobering look in the mirror. And it's also a necessary one, if we wish to be saved.

Daily Lesson for June 28, 2016

Today's Daily Lesson comes from Numbers chapter 22 verses 21 through 30:

21 So Balaam rose in the morning and saddled his donkey and went with the princes of Moab. 22 But God's anger was kindled because he went, and the angel of the Lord took his stand in the way as his adversary. Now he was riding on the donkey, and his two servants were with him. 23 And the donkey saw the angel of the Lord standing in the road, with a drawn sword in his hand. And the donkey turned aside out of the road and went into the field. And Balaam struck the donkey, to turn her into the road. 24 Then the angel of the Lord stood in a narrow path between the vineyards, with a wall on either side. 25 And when the donkey saw the angel of the Lord, she pushed against the wall and pressed Balaam's foot against the wall. So he struck her again. 26 Then the angel of the Lord went ahead and stood in a narrow place, where there was no way to turn either to the right or to the left. 27 When the donkey saw the angel of the Lord, she lay down under Balaam. And Balaam's anger was kindled, and he struck the donkey with his staff. 28 Then the Lord opened the mouth of the donkey, and she said to Balaam, “What have I done to you, that you have struck me these three times?” 29 And Balaam said to the donkey, “Because you have made a fool of me. I wish I had a sword in my hand, for then I would kill you.” 30 And the donkey said to Balaam, “Am I not your donkey, on which you have ridden all your life long to this day? Is it my habit to treat you this way?” And he said, “No.”

Here is the story of Balaam and his donkey, a story commonly referred to as the story of "Balaam's Ass", but which should be called "Balaam, the Horse's Ass" because that's what Balaam made out of himself.

Balaam knows where he is headed. He is intent to get there. And nothing is going to stop.

Nothing, that is, except life.

It turns out God has another plan; and no matter how hard Balaam tries to get that donkey of his down the path, the donkey (as we say in Texas) just ain't having it. He ain't having it because turns out the donkey knows more about the path than its rider.

I often quote Paula D'Arcy: "God comes to us disguised as our lives."  I take that to mean that when the donkey we're riding refuses to take us down the path we want to go then maybe God is trying to tell us something.  Maybe that's not the way after all; maybe it's the way to destruction.  Maybe we ought to stop and turn around.

We assume we know the path where life should take us. But then I remember the little warning my elementary teachers gave about those who "assume": It makes an "ass" out of "u" and "me".

It sure did of Balaam.

But in the end that turned out to be a blessing really; because realizing that he was actually dumber than a jackass spared ol' Balaam from being deader than a doornail.

And that there is the wisdom of humiliation.

May those who have ears as big as a donkey's let them hear.

Today's Daily Lesson for June 27, 2016

Today's Daily Lesson is an excerpt from Marilyn Robinson's novel Gilead:

It has seemed to me sometimes as though the Lord breathes on this poor gray ember of Creation and it turns to radiance - for a moment or a year or the span of a life. And then it sinks back into itself again, and to look at it no one would know it had anything to do with fire, or light .... Wherever you turn your eyes the world can shine like transfiguration. You don't have to bring a thing to it except a little willingness to see. Only, who could have the courage to see it? .... Theologians talk about a prevenient grace that precedes grace itself and allows us to accept it. I think there must also be a prevenient courage that allows us to be brave - that is, to acknowledge that there is more beauty than our eyes can bear, that precious things have been put into our hands and to do nothing to honor them is to do great harm.

Yesterday, Irie and the kids and I went back and worshipped in the little church where I was ordained and where Irie and I were married.  Lowe's Grove Baptist Church can trace its beginning to 1890, when a Sunday School class was meeting on the front porch of a home in a little community just south of Durham, NC.  That Sunday School and another church joined together and the church was officially organized in 1907. The building we were married, a quaint, partially-Georgia-style construction was built in 1947.  Though for most of its life Lowe's Grove has been mostly a quiet, family church, it has at times been a place for the compelling. In 1981, it was one of the very first Southern Baptist Churches to ordain a woman to the Gospel Ministry.  Irie and I the very same week that three crosses were burned by the KKK in downtown Durham, our fully integrated wedding a sign of hope and reconciliation amidst a time of strife and division within the city.

The Church has been without a pastor now for a couple of years and as often happens in times between pastorates the congregation has dwindled some.  It was mostly an older group gathered yesterday for Sunday morning, though the church was excitedly planning for Vacation Bible School which began last night.  I know they were wondering how many would come and how many would stay and what kind of future there is for a church like Lowe's Grove.

As I stood in the pulpit where I preached my very first sermon 13 years ago this coming fall, I read the excerpt from Marilyn Robinson's novel. It is the words from an old, old preacher in a little church in a little community, writing to his young son, who he had brought forth into the world at a great age. In a sense, it is Robinson's way of having the patriarchs, that "great cloud of witnesses", spoken of in the book of Hebrews, to write to this current, struggling generation of Christians trying now to hold on to the faith of our fathers and mothers. And the message is for this current generation to hold its hope and to remember that God's kingdom is among us, if we have eyes to see.

Sometimes God does breath upon this "poor gray ember of Creation" and for a moment something amazing happens -- a sleepy little Baptist church does something bold and lays its hands on the head of a woman called to preach, or rises as a sign of racial harmony amidst a world of division. God breathes for a time there is fire and there is light and he Church knows that it is alive, but then it sinks into itself again, and no one would ever know who did not themselves remember.

And so that was my message for the people of Lowe's Grove yesterday, to remember, to hold onto the memory of when God moved and breathed, and to hold onto the hope that God shall surely do it again -- in His own good time.

God bless you Lowe's Grove Baptist Church. God bless and keep you and make His face to shine upon you . . .

Daily Lesson for June 24, 2016

Today's Daily Lesson comes from Numbers chapter 20 verses 2 through 9:

2 Now there was no water for the congregation. And they assembled themselves together against Moses and against Aaron. 3 And the people quarreled with Moses and said, “Would that we had perished when our brothers perished before the Lord! 4 Why have you brought the assembly of the Lord into this wilderness, that we should die here, both we and our cattle? 5 And why have you made us come up out of Egypt to bring us to this evil place? It is no place for grain or figs or vines or pomegranates, and there is no water to drink.” 6 Then Moses and Aaron went from the presence of the assembly to the entrance of the tent of meeting and fell on their faces. And the glory of the Lord appeared to them, 7 and the Lord spoke to Moses, saying, 8 “Take the staff, and assemble the congregation, you and Aaron your brother, and tell the rock before their eyes to yield its water. So you shall bring water out of the rock for them and give drink to the congregation and their cattle.” 9 And Moses took the staff from before the Lord, as he commanded him.

I am at the Annual Gathering of the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship celebrating the 25th anniversary of CBF's founding.  In 1991, this new Baptist movement began, dedicating itself to the freedom of the local church and its membership to practice freely without threat of disfellowship over issues of gender or doctrine.

Last night religion scholar Diana Butler Bass spoke to us and made an interesting and also painfully sobering observation. She noted that in 1991, just as we were beginning, there is no way we could have known that the next 25 years would see the most precipitous decline in membership and affiliation in organized religious life in 200 years. We could not have known how shallow our resources would be and how difficult that would make to equip missionaries, support churches, and help educate clergy.  She said, in fact, that 1991 was about the worst time in history anyone could have picked to begin a movement.

I listened to that last night and then get up this morning and read today's Daily Lesson. The Israelites are in their exodus and have escaped Egypt; they are bent on freedom. But then just as soon as they cross the Red Sea the resources run dry.  There is not enough food or enough water. The people bicker and complain and some blame Moses. "You see," they say, "it was better in Egypt."  And someone maybe says that this is the worst time in history they could have begun their movement. Some want to turn back; others are tempted to despair and die right there in the wilderness; most just don't know what to do.

But then Moses is told to look within, to look deep, to look deep into the hidden earth where it shall be discovered that there is resource and provision, water that God locked into the rock millennia ago -- for just such a time as this.

God does not leave those bent for freedom thirsty and dying in the wilderness. The LORD provides -- rams in bushes and water from rock. God meets us in our wilderness.

And then we discover something -- two truths about the Exodus. And the truths are these: 1) that even the absolute worst time in history for beginning a movement towards freedom is better than not beginning at all and 2) though at times the Promised Land does not look very promising their are resources hidden deep within us which will sustain and guide us along the way.

Thanks be to God!

Daily Lesson for June 23, 2016

Today's Daily Lesson comes from Psalm 105 verses 12 through 15:

 When they were few in number,
of little account, and sojourners,
13 wandering from nation to nation,
from one kingdom to another people,
14 he allowed no one to oppress them;
he rebuked kings on their account,
15 saying, “Touch not my anointed ones,
do my prophets no harm!”


And from Romans Chapter 5 verses 3 and 4:

3 Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, 4 and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, 5 and hope does not put us to shame.

Maya Angelou once wrote a book titled after a line in an old spiritual: "Wouldn't Take Nothing for My Journey Now".  What I take her to mean is that though she endured much hardship and struggle along her path, these were the things that made her who she was.  As the Romans lesson speaks today, it was Maya's struggle that gave Maya her sense of endurance and character and, ultimately, her hope.

Note the order of that. Hope is last -- the result of an enduring struggle. That means it is different from optimism.  Optimism is a favorable outlook based on what we can see.  I am optimistic that the sun will shine today. But hope is something stronger. Hope is what we have left when the sun has refused to shine.  Hope is still believing in the light, though it has been very dark for a very long time.

One of the most fascinating aspects coming out of research on this thing called Hope is that it can be learned and taught. Researcher C.R. Snyder studied hopeful people and discovered that hope is different from our feelings -- which we don't necessarily have much control over -- but is in fact a kind of mental process or thought framework. In short, hopefulness is a way of thinking about our world, ourselves, and our God.  The resilient among us -- those who have endured setbacks and traumas of many kinds --are those who have learned to see themselves as more than passive victims of whatever the days have brought, but have instead learned to think hopefully.  In other words, they've learned to think of the world as a place where right will ultimately prevail, to think of themselves as active agents of that goodness, and of God as the one who always tips the scales in favor of that goodness.

This kind of hopeful thinking can and is actually taught and passed down, in hopeful churches and synagogues, and in the words of hopeful people like Maya Angelou.

We wouldn't take nothing for our journey now -- because we know it's the journey that has taught us to think hopefully; and its our hopefulness that will teach others also.

Daily Lesson for June 21, 2016

I am taking a break from writing, but please enjoy again this Daily Lesson:

Today's Daily Lesson comes from Joshua chapter 4 verses 1 through 7:

When all the nation had finished passing over the Jordan, the Lord said to Joshua, 2 “Take twelve men from the people, from each tribe a man, 3 and command them, saying, ‘Take twelve stones from here out of the midst of the Jordan, from the very place where the priests' feet stood firmly, and bring them over with you and lay them down in the place where you lodge tonight.’” 4 Then Joshua called the twelve men from the people of Israel, whom he had appointed, a man from each tribe. 5 And Joshua said to them, “Pass on before the ark of the Lord your God into the midst of the Jordan, and take up each of you a stone upon his shoulder, according to the number of the tribes of the people of Israel, 6 that this may be a sign among you. When your children ask in time to come, ‘What do those stones mean to you?’ 7 then you shall tell them that the waters of the Jordan were cut off before the ark of the covenant of the Lord. When it passed over the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan were cut off. So these stones shall be to the people of Israel a memorial forever.”

Every nation needs a memorial to remember its founding and other momentous events and people in its history. Pierre L'Enfant, the architect of the National Mall in Washington, DC knew this. As early as 1791 he was imagining a grand space where the new United States of America's government buildings, museums, and national memorials could stand in a monumental and dignified way.  L'Enfant knew memorials would need to be built in order for the people to remember their and know itself as a nation.

Families need memorials too.  For centuries most people were so poor, the only memorial most families could afford was the Family Bible, and I remember Willie Nelson's "Family Bible" say the same thing I'm trying to say this morning:

There's a family Bible on the table
Its pages worn and hard to read
But the family Bible on the table
Will ever be my key to memories

There's a Family Bible from Irie's side in our family. On my side there's an old pump organ that my uncle has that the Seay side of our family brought all the way from Gainesville to West Texas in covered wagon around 1900.  In our house there is a watercolor of Gettysburg a friend in Vermont painted and gave to us. The viewpoint is a densely wooded are with a stone gate opening to a sun-lit field. There's all kind of metaphor in that. Another memorial I have in my study at home is a 1950s era decorative plate with a picture of church set in it.  That church is Lowe's Grove Baptist Church, the church where I was ordained.

Joshua told the Israelites to make a memorial when they passed over the Jordan and came into the Promised Land. The memorial was not for them. It was for the generations who would follow -- so that they would know the history, remember where they'd come from, and who they're called to be.

May we continue to make memorials.  And may our children continue ask of their meaning. And may we always have something meaningful to answer.

A Pastoral Letter After Orlando

After Orlando, many are wondering how we, our churches, and our denominations can reach out in embrace of the LGBTQ community.  I wrote this letter months prior to Orlando, but did not share it broadly. The time seems right to do so now.  This is my story of how I came to see things differently. It is my hope that this letter might make a space for broader inclusion and acceptance of all people who are seeking to love God and also their neighbor -- in spite of our differences. 

Dear friend,

I am writing you as a sister in Christ as I know you have concerns about our church at this time. I am writing with the hope of our remaining united in the bond of peace.  I am not necessarily expecting to change your or anyone else's mind about same-sex relationships in general or same-sex marriage in particular.  This seems to me one of those issues where everyone must act on his or her own conscience. I do, however, want to share with you from my own journey with the hope that you might understand how and why I have come to believe what I believe. 

Growing up in West Texas in the 1980s and 1990s, I did not know anyone who was gay. That is to say, I did not know anyone who was openly gay. To me, gays were abnormal and prime subjects for all manner of snide comments and jokes told by me and my friends at their expense. Gays, for me, were perverted and sexually deviant and if there were a rumor that someone might be gay he or she was to be ridiculed or avoided or, if absolutely necessary, tolerated.  

This negative view I had of gays predated my own acceptance of Christ when I was 16 years old and was therefore shaped more by only a cursory familiarity with Christianity and what I thought the Bible said.  Stories like Sodom and Gomorrah were in the cultural vernacular and were for me proof of the threat gays posed to a community.  But when I gave my life to Christ and first began reading the Bible and growing in faith, my hostility towards gays was not bolstered, but actually softened. Though I certainly still believed that homosexuality was a sin, I was now aware of my own sin and shortcomings and beginning to allow Jesus' admonition against judging others to convict and change me.  In fact, by the time I was in my latter years of college I felt deep remorse for the way I had acted towards gays in general and, in partnership, those people I suspected might be gay.  Though it is important for understanding my journey to again recognize that even at this time in my life I still did not know anyone who was actually openly gay.

That changed in 2001 when I moved to New York City and met and worked with a dozen or more openly gay people, including both my supervisors at the tour company where I worked. Though I was not exactly comfortable with their being openly gay and in openly gay relationships, I knew that I could not be closed to them as persons.  And I was not. We worked and ate and laughed together and they introduced me to their partners.  Though I was repulsed by much of the raunchiness I saw being conducted on the streets at the Gay Pride Parade that year and in some isolated cases on the streets of New York, what I found among my gay coworkers and now friends was mostly what I had always found amongst straight people -- a mixture of good and bad people, and relationships, and expressions of love and fidelity.  Most interesting to me as someone considering ministry, what I also discovered among those people was my first faithfully Christian friend who was openly gay.  He was gay; but he also went faithfully to church. And by all appearances he seemed to love the LORD. In fact, in many ways he was more faithful to God than I was.  It was then that I first began to have the hint of a question about what I had always believed -- or believed that I should believe.

After I left New York, I moved to Durham, NC where there were far fewer openly gay persons than in New York. I cannot say that I was friends with anyone who I knew to be gay during all three years of my seminary experience. Duke Divinity School, though having a reputation for being a liberal school, was in fact mostly conservative on this issue, with then none of its most prominent faculty at the time being openly affirming of gay rights in or outside of the church. But the question I already had inside me: What about my gay friend?  And though my professors did not necessarily advocate for gay inclusion, what they did do was even more important. They gave me a place to learn to let that question of mine and others be asked. And it was in the asking, and the questioning and the searching that my eyes began to be opened to an entirely new way of understanding what the Bible is and how we are to read it.

For example, my seminary professors encouraged me to approach the Sodom and Gomorrah story and try to discover what the story itself says, as opposed to what others have said it says. What I discovered then was that it is not a story about the evils of same-sex relations in general, but rather a warning against the ultimate self-destructiveness of a community which oppresses and exploits the powerless -- specifically, women and the alien.  I also discovered what Ezekiel said about Sodom, that her sin was "pride and excess of ease (some translations say 'gluttony'), but she did not help the poor and needy," (Ezekiel 16:49).  What this helped me to see was that for a long time I had actually misread the story, misinterpreted its meaning, and had done so simply because I had accepted what others told me the story meant, rather than thinking on it myself.  My eyes were now indeed being opened to new ways of seeing.

Beyond my new understanding of that one, single Biblical story, however, my seminary experience more generally gave me the gift of beginning to think through what I believe the Bible is in its substance and what we mean when we say it is sacred scripture. In the community and culture where I grew up I heard the expressions "Word of God" and "inerrant" used as synonyms or descriptors of the Bible.  As I began to think and read and understand how the Bible was comprised and who wrote it and in what context, my understanding of Scripture and how it is to be used began to shift. I discovered that the Bible is not so much a word dropped down directly from God to humankind, but is rather humankind's attempt to put words to their own experience and understanding of God. In the Biblical scholar N.T. Wright's metaphor, the Bible is likened as a library, full of different genres --some historical and some literary and others poetic and governmental -- each written from the  unique, but always limited perspective and understanding of the individual authors and their communities, contexts, and times.

I take as an example one very significant issue in the early church. The matter at hand was the inclusion of Gentiles in the early church and the question was whether these non-Jewish converts to Christianity would or would not have to follow the Jewish law -- with its mandates for circumcision (Exodus 12:48) and dietary restriction (Numbers 9:14).  The Bible had clearly laid out a set of mandates for foreigners in times past; yet certain voices within the church -- most especially Paul -- stated that "circumcision is nothing" and that there was neither Jew nor Gentile in Christ. These early church debates are recorded in 1 Corinthians and in Galatians and Philippians and most especially in Acts. Ultimately, Paul's voice won out and Gentiles were included without having to be circumcised or held to the strictest Jewish dietary customs.  And though the debates have changed, what we inherited was a more expansive church and an understanding that what the Bible mandates for one time and context and people may not necessarily be fitting for all others times and contexts and people.

But more than anything I might have learned in a seminary classroom, my meeting, falling in love with, and marrying Irie and coming to understand more fully the story of the history of African enslavement has most deeply shaped my understanding of the way I read the Bible. "Slaves obey your masters," was a word written from Paul to a particular people and time. It may very well have been a prudent and wise word for the circumstance, but over the centuries it was a scripture abusively misused to justify the enslavement of people around the world. And how many souls had been sent to the lower decks of some westward bound slave ship bound in chains with those words of Paul as permission?  It was in the Bible; but was it the right word from the Bible?  Looking back over those many centuries with so much blood spilled by the lash of the slaveowner and by the sword of the soldier, we can all say no.  And it is for this fact alone that I decided that what was once written in the letter of pen and ink may not in fact be what God is now saying in Spirit. "For the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life," (2 Corinthians 3:6).

Of course, "slaves obey your masters" is not the only word from the Bible which today's church has struggled with. Jesus' strict injunction against divorce and remarriage was another which I was soon forced to wrestle with.  Upon completion of my studies and soon after I was ordained, a couple came to me seeking to be married. They had each been divorced before, and yet appeared to love and want to enter into a serious covenant with one another. Having known many divorced couples within my church, family, and community, I did not consider not marrying them on grounds of what the Bible said. But I did pause to reflect more deeply why that was.  This led me to a more fuller developed understanding of what marriage is intended to be. 

I began to reflect on how when Jesus spoke against divorce and remarriage he was doing so in a very different context -- a time when men had all the power and could simply divorce a woman at will, leaving her financially and socially destitute. His words were meant to protect the most vulnerable from being thrown to the gutter. Unfortunately, and with sad irony, Jesus' words spoken originally for protection were for centuries actually used to keep people in abusive marriages and prohibit them from entering into more healthy and life-giving relationships. 

As I thought on this, what would be an important insight entered my mind. I remembered what Jesus said when criticized for healing on the Sabbath -- "the Sabbath is made for man, not man for the Sabbath."  It began to dawn on me that I could say the same about marriage -- that marriage is not a weighty burden to be hung around the neck, but a gift given to serve humanity for the purpose of human flourishing.  This, to me, was what God intended when He said, "Be fruitful and multiply."  Or, in other words, "Give life."

I married that couple and then soon lost touch when Irie and I moved to Vermont.  But just this past week the woman from the marriage contacted me on Facebook to tell me her husband had passed some time ago and that my Daily Lessons are a comfort to her. I was not even aware she was reading them, but I am glad I can still in some way be her pastor.  That began when I said yes to officiating the wedding. 

Things were different in Vermont. Like New York, there were more openly gay people including several teachers and students at the schools where Irie worked and even a pastor of another church in our town. Civil unions were legal and many gays were living in open relationship with each other.  Most of the gay people we knew were kind and decent people, some of whom we formed meaningful friendships with.  Inevitably, however, whether explicitly or implicitly the question would be put before me as a pastor and friend: Did I approve of these people and accept them and their partners completely?  

And it was at that time, in my own spirit that I decided that I did accept and approve of them completely.  I could not look upon these friends and call the intimacy they shared with those whom they loved sinful.  They were committed to one another, and many of them were committed before God in a religious covenant.  They were giving life to the world, blessing it together with their relationship.  These relationships were emotionally and spiritually valid and "bearing fruit" in abundant ways. In my eyes, it was good.

When same-sex marriage began to be debated in Vermont in 2007, I openly supported it. To withhold marriage by way of use of the Bible alone seemed to me a double standard when so many others were able to be married in spite of what the strict injunction of the Bible says.  And I had no other reason to say no. Many of the couples I knew were in Godly, committed covenantal relationships. And they were a blessing to the church, their community, and in some cases their children. To me, this was the gift marriage was intended for; and it was enough to say yes too.

I understand we have individual scriptures such as Romans 1 which speak disapprovingly of same-sex relations. This is not surprising as most Jews at the time considered same-sex relations to be an act or result of sin. But there are many physical conditions such as blindness and lameness which when the Bible was written were also considered to be linked to sin. In fact, the blind and the lame and the sexual minority were together banned from entering the House of the LORD (Leviticus 21).  They were all seen to be unclean and unworthy of inclusion.  I cannot imagine how painful that must have been.  

I thank God our understanding of disability has changed over these thousands of years since. Physical deformity is no longer seen to be a manifestation or condition of sin. One who is blind or lame is no longer considered inherently unclean. Along the way, we arrived at a new understanding on these people. 

I believe we ought to do the same with people of same-sex orientation. They are not unclean or "inherently disordered" as they were once often described. In other words, they are not problems to be solved, but human beings to be understand and accepted in society and -- I believe -- in the House of the LORD also.

In the book of Galatians Paul boldly proclaims that there is neither Jew or Greek, slave nor free, male nor female in Christ (Galatians 3:28).  The church struggled for long centuries to understand the fullness of this passage's meaning -- first with the inclusion of Gentiles and later with the emancipation of slaves. As Paul also said, we saw "through a glass darkly," (1 Corinthians 13:12).  Now, it is my understanding that the fullness of this message also includes those of same-sex orientation and marriage. I have changed the way I see this, but am at deep peace with it in my spirit.

And, I am also at peace in my spirit with those who see it differently. For me, it is a matter of individual conviction and in no way a test of fellowship. Others in the Body of Christ have differing views; but we still belong to one another.  As Paul said to the Corinthians when they were debating the dietary customs, "whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do everything for the glory of God,  (1 Corinthians 10:31) and above all love (1 Corinthians 13).  Again, as Paul said, we see through a glass darkly, meaning no one has a full and complete picture. That is why we must treat each other with kindness and humility and commit to love those who see things differently.

There have been many issues which were matters of contention within the church before. More shall come after. Yet, in challenging matters like these, I often think of the wisdom offered in Latin by a church father of yore:

In neccessarriis unitas,

In dubii liberate,

In omnibus caritas.

In what is necessary unity,

In what is doubtful freedom,

In all things love.

"There is only one thing that is necessary," Jesus said, and that is our saving relationship with Him.  In the light of that all else pales, except love --which never ends. 

I love you my friend; and I hold you in my prayers.

My peace to you my sister,

Ryon

Daily Lesson for June 17, 2016

Today's Daily Lesson comes from Matthew chapter 18 verses 21 and 22:

21 Then Peter came up and said to him, “Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?” 22 Jesus said to him, “I do not say to you seven times, but seventy-seven times.

There are people I know whose capacity to forgive astounds and inspires and deeply, deeply humbled me. They live with the still deeply-painful scars from wounds inflicted on them sometimes decades ago.  The scars never go away; sometimes even the wound does not heal; yet they go on, and their lives are a source of hope inspiration and to others -- to me. They choose to allow the trauma that has happened to them to be transfigured from a thing of terror and fear and allow it to become a sign of mercy and of healing. They refuse to remain bound in fear and hatred and locked in the world of perpetual victimhood.

Many years ago, a woman I know shared with me that as a child she had been sexually abused by a man close to the family. The memory had been repressed for a long time -- as these kinds of memories often are -- but had been unlocked a few years earlier. She had then spent several years working through the memory and the still-traumatic feelings it evoked.

She wanted to talk with me about what forgiveness was like for her. She offered to me a reflection on the text from today's Lesson. "Do you know where Jesus told Peter that he had to be willing to forgive 77 times?"  "Yes," I said. "Well, I heard somewhere that that could also be translated 77x7 times."  "Yes," I said, "I believe that's correct." "Let me tell you what I have been thinking about and what I have discovered about forgiveness through all of this. The average woman lives to be about 77 years old. I have been thinking that if I am going to forgive him, then I have to learn to forgive 7 days a week for all 77 years of my life. That's what I have to do to forgive, and to no longer be his victim."

Like I said, there are people I know whose capacity to forgive astounds me; she is one of them. May the LORD give her the strength she needs to forgive again today.

Daily Lesson for June 16, 2016

Today's Daily Lesson comes from Psalm 34 verse 18:

 The Lord is near to the brokenhearted
and saves the crushed in spirit.

Yesterday, we spoke to the youth about despair.  It's a heavy topic for camp; but it's not an unfamiliar one to these kids. They've lived long enough to know that despair is real and that it can break us of the will to live.

The word despair comes from the Latin "desperare"; it literally means to be "de-spirited" or "de-breathed".  To despair is to lose all spirit, all sense of vitality.

As we were talking with the youth yesterday, we told them that the the LORD comes near to those who are broken and crushed in spirit.  And the way the LORD usually comes near is through us.

I have always remembered Parker Palmer's account of a period in his life when he went through a very grave depression. He says he was so crushed in spirit that he came to a point of literally not being able to feel. A paralysis had set in in both his spirit and body. The only place he still had any sense of feeling left was in his feet. So, a very close and caring friend came every day for weeks, bent down and simply touched and massaged Parker's feet.  He came near and touched the only place Parker could still sense he was alive.

The LORD desires to come near to those broken and crushed in spirit. And he desires to come near through us -- through our hands and by our feet. It's the little things that will make the difference I was telling the youth: a simple massage, the holding of a hand, the doing of a load or three of laundry, walking the dog. These things are what make the difference.

And the difference can be life and death.

Daily Lesson for June 15, 2016

Today's Daily Lesson comes from Matthew chapter 18 verses 1 through 6:

tAt that time the disciples came to Jesus, saying, “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” 2 And calling to him a child, he put him in the midst of them 3 and said, “Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. 4 Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.
5 “Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me, 6 but whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to stumble, it would be better for him to have a great millstone fastened around his neck and to be drowned in the depth of the sea.

This week one of the major camp themes is "God is Not".  This is taken from 1 Kings where Elijah goes up to Mt Horeb and there is a fierce wind, and a mighty earthquake, and a great fire but the LORD was not in any of those.  Then there was the sound of sheer silence; and that was where God was found to speak.

So much of what we have been doing here at camp is seeking to breakdown these kids' notions of what and who the LORD is and where this God might be found. They have been told by so much of the world, their parents, and even their churches that God is mighty.  But their understanding of might is no different from the world's understanding. It's a might that is never fragile, never vulnerable, never suffers, and never, ever dies. It's a God of wind, earthquake, and fire.

A God like that is ultimately going to be a tremendous disappointment. For a God like that will fail us in our hour of greatest need.  When we want to call down fire from heaven to consume our enemies like Elijah did, the lighting will never strike. What we will instead get is the sound of sheer silence.

So the task this week is to get us thinking about the God of sheer silences, the God who is vulnerable, the God who comes to us not in a mighty blaze of thunder, but one who comes to us weak and begging and in need -- one who comes to us like a child.

"And the one who is like this," Jesus said, "is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."

Daily Lesson for June 14, 2016

Today's Daily Lesson comes from Luke chapter 12 verses 22-25:

22 He said to his disciples, “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear. 23 For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. 24 Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds! 25 And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? 26 If then you are not able to do so small a thing as that, why do you worry about the rest?


In the wake of this week's terror it has been hard to remain present to where we are, who we are with, and what we have. Terror wishes to paralyze us, to make us so anxious about the future that we can no longer live in the present. It's desire is to overwhelm us with and foreboding of what is to come of us and our loved ones and our world.

I am at summer camp. I am with a group of young people who I know to be an amazing group of thinkers and searchers and sensors. They are already becoming serious followers of the Way. They need me here. Though my own family is back at home and always a source of worry and concern and desire to get back home, I know that I am here, with children who also belong to me and who need my faith -- young people of the Way who are looking to me to teach them to be persons of deep wisdom and courageous faith.  It's in times like these that that is born.

Last night in worship the leader began worship by inviting us to "Be where your feet are."  By that he meant be present, be near, be close to ourselves and to those beside us. After worship We dismissed and I led the youth back for a time of reflection on the day.  But before there was reflection there was laughter. One spilled a giant jar of puff balls and then rather than letting them go to waste ate them one by one off the floor. Another talked just how awkward it was to be stuck earlier in the day in a never-ending draw of Indian leg wrestling. We all agreed -- it had looked very, very awkward.

Soon enough the laughter stopped and the talk turned to  serious things -- to violence and God and the problem of where evil comes from. I was glad I was where my feet were. I missed my own children, but was glad to be present to others'.  They needed this. They needed me. They needed all of me right here.

After the discussion, when all the youth had left to go to the gym and play a game aptly and humorously called "Game with Big Ball", I stayed after to FaceTime my own family. While talking to them and watching my 3-year-old make faces at his dad and stand up on the bed and shake his booty for the camera -- very slow and real smooth like -- I looked up and discovered a poem by Wendell Berry hanging on the wall in the room I was in.  It is called "The Peace of Wild Things":

When despair for the world grows in me
And I wake in the night at the least sound
In fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
Rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
Who do not tax their lives with forethought
Of grief. I come into the presence of still waters.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
Waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

Daily Lesson for June 13, 2016

Today's Daily Lesson is in Memoriam:

Our hearts are all broken for the beautiful lives so callously robbed from this earth early Sunday morning in Orlando. We mourn with those who mourn and pray that God would give them the strength and peace they need to walk grief's sorrowful path.

In recent hours I have spoken with several friends in the LGBTQ community.  They feel now particularly targeted and vulnerable. This is a moment for us to reach out to them as they are indeed our brothers and our sisters.  It is our duty as brothers, sisters, friends, allies and other persons of goodwill to stand in solidarity with -- to pledge ourselves to confront the homophobia wherever we might find it.

I have already made a similar pledge to my Muslim brothers and sisters, who now also feel vulnerable to threats of retaliation. Last year, I and 30,000 other Americans signed a pledge to build a circle of protection around our Muslim neighbors and, if necessary, to give even our bodies in their defense.  I stand by this pledge, knowing that it is evil's way to exploit its own evil acts in the effort to divide and then conquer us.

There will now be continued debates about guns and gun laws. I can tell you that I will not tell others that they ought not to be allowed to carry or buy weapons, especially when threatened by those who would kill and destroy.  But I myself have chosen to walk unarmed, and pray I shall continue to do so, not because I do not believe guns are necessary but because I believe that when someone lives by a gun something inside him or her dies by the gun also.  This is the cruel price of the protection of violence and its a price I am not willing to pay -- not yet anyway.

As for this act of terror in Orlando and its relation to the rising threat of terrorism we have seen in the last decade and a half, these are the days Jesus spoke of when he said, "The love of many will grow cold." Compassion can wear thin. The better angels of our nature can be tested.   Talk of love can become intolerable.  But Jesus added, "The one who endures to the end shall be saved."  In other words, it is in times like these that the values which make us who we are are tested. Values like equality, democracy, the judgment of the person by the -- in King's words -- "the content of his character" and not the criminality of his neighbor. If we lose these values now then terror has won.

Two years ago our church joined with a small number of other churches in town for a prayer service in response to the then-still burgeoning threat of ISIS.  I preached the homily and used as my text Matthew 13:24-43, the Parable of the Wheat and the Weeds, where Jesus compares the evil of this world to weeds sowed into a crop of wheat by "an enemy". The farmhands are frustrated and want very much to go out and pluck up all the weeds.  But the farmer cautions them not to do so because in pulling up the bad they will be sure to pull up a lot of good also. It is better to wait, he says, until they're all grown up -- until you can be sure and tell a weed from the wheat.  The weeds will have their day in the sun, but the harvest is coming when they will sure enough be done away with.

In times like these our love is threatened to grow cold. We are tempted to go out and round up all the weeds.  But a lot of good would be lost also. The prevailing wisdom is rather to realize that weeds are now a reality. We have to now accept that reality. We can't go in and just spray or tear up the whole field. For in doing so too much good would be lost. Instead we have to wait, identity, contain, and then when we know for sure which is a weed and which is weed go to pulling.

To do anything else would not be an honor to those who lost their lives to evil in Orlando, or Sacramento, or anywhere in the world. In fact, it would be a dishonor. And it would be exactly what the enemy wants us to do.

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that," Dr. King so eloquently said. And to it, I would humbly add this maxim also: Hate cannot drive us to hate; the light inside us is much too strong. For it is the very light of very light, and up against it no darkness of any enemy can prevail.

Daily Lesson for June 10, 2016

Today's Daily a lesson comes from Ecclesiastes chapter 12 verses 1 through 3 and 6 through

Remember also your Creator in the days of your youth, before the evil days come and the years draw near of which you will say, “I have no pleasure in them”; 2 before the sun and the light and the moon and the stars are darkened and the clouds return after the rain, 3 in the day when the keepers of the house tremble, and the strong men are bent . . .6 before the silver cord is snapped, or the golden bowl is broken, or the pitcher is shattered at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern, 7 and the dust returns to the earth as it was, and the spirit returns to God who gave it.

Things fall apart.

This is the primal lesson Qoheleth, the wisdom writer of Ecclesiastes, is trying to impart to the succeeding generation.  Things fall apart, bodies age, days dim, and heirlooms break.  They who have come to terms with the raw fact of this matter are prepared for the loss of all things.  They who are not prepared are stunned when mortality enters and robs them of someone or something very special.  The shock of loss is too much.  The grief overwhelms them. But the one who has come to terms with the passing away of all things -- even the passing away of heaven and earth -- has already entered into the grief.  They have already smelled the feint, decaying dust in the beams of their parents' home.

The Buddhist teaching is that life is suffering and therefore the person who wishes to minimize suffering must minimize attachment. Detachment from all things is the prescription for relieving the pain of life's losses.

But Qoheleth has no confidence in detachment. He knows that humans simply have to make attachments to the old house and those in it.  To be human is to be tethered to the silver cord and have our hearts in the golden of which he writes. There is no way around attachment. To be human is to be attached.

What Qoheleth then prescribes is not detachment, but memory.  "Remember your Creator," he says. And in so doing he reminds us then that we are creation -- dust, and to dust we shall return.

And the one who can remember this can endure any loss -- not because he is detached -- but because he knows all his earthly attachments are temporal and will eventually pass away.

He is free to make attachments, free even to love, and free also to let go.

He is free indeed.

Daily Lesson for June 9, 2016

Today's Daily Lesson comes from Ecclesiastes chapter 11 verse 3:

 If the clouds are full of rain,
they empty themselves on the earth,
and if a tree falls to the south or to the north,
in the place where the tree falls, there it will lie.

Where a tree falls, there it lies.  This sounds a lot like one of the aphorisms by grandad used to tell me.  "Remember son," he would say, "You can go just as far on a full tank of gas as you can on a half."

Simple and obvious.  And so obviously given that the deeper and more existential point goes without saying: Things happen, causes have effects, and it's good to be prepared for when it rains.

And it will rain.

The sooner we can come to accept reality as it comes, to take the world as its given and let go of the world as we wish it would be, then the sooner we get about the business of becoming adults.

Richard Rohr has studied the rites of passage many ancient cultures used to initiate children into adulthood. At the core of what was being taught through the rites were the lessons of life's difficulty, the fact that we are not in control, and that we are all going to die. Coming to terms with these things is part of growing up.

Rain falls. So do trees. The force of gravity works on everything -- including even the mightiest of oaks. And where the oak falls it will lie. That is a reality which cannot be denied, but must rather be accepted, talked about, and planned for.

Those who do so will be ready for whatever whenever; and so too their children.

Daily Lesson for June 8, 2016

Today's Daily Lesson comes from Ecclesiastes chapter 9 verse 11:

Again I saw that under the sun the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, nor bread to the wise, nor riches to the intelligent, nor favor to those with knowledge, but time and chance happen to them all.

There is a line in Rudyard Kipling's poem "If" which speaks of the vagaries of this world:

"If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same . . .
You'll be a man my son."

Triumph and disaster, success and failure, so much in life is contingent upon things beyond our control: upbringing, family of origin, good or bad genes, the current market, what the Iranians decided to do, a lucky break, the wind blowing just the right way.

When we come to accept that a whole lot of life is beyond our control and depends on the cards then instead of railing against the dealer we can learn to bear down and play the hand we've been dealt -- one card at a time.  Triumph and disaster are both in the cards; but they don't have to determine the character of the one holding them. You know the house will eventually when, death will be dealt, but you keep playing as long as smartly and well as you can.

I've always liked the philosophy of an old, wise man I buried earlier this year. To put his age in perspective, I can tell you that he flew with Lindbergh.  In fact, he was a test pilot in WWII -- his first act, a crop duster for his second, and a stock broker for his third.  "I liked to play it safe," once told me with a twinkle in his eye.

I was talking to him one day about all that he had seen under the son -- the triumph and disaster. "I myself cheated death a thousand times," he said, "while on the other hand I lost two wives, a daughter and a teenage boy.  What do you make of that pastor?"

I quoted today's lesson. "The race is not to the swift nor the battle to the strong nor riches to men of understanding."

He looked up at me with another twinkle in his eye and quoted some 1930s sports columnist, "The race is not to the swift nor the battle to the strong . . . But them's the ones to bet on."

There you go . . .

Daily Lesson for June 7, 2016

Today's Daily Lesson comes from Ecclesiastes chapter 8 verses 14 and 15:

14 There is a vanity that takes place on earth, that there are righteous people to whom it happens according to the deeds of the wicked, and there are wicked people to whom it happens according to the deeds of the righteous. I said that this also is vanity. 15 And I commend joy, for man has nothing better under the sun but to eat and drink and be joyful, for this will go with him in his toil through the days of his life that God has given him under the sun.

The most primary lesson we all have to come to terms with is life's inherent unfairness. This is a lesson we begin to learn very early on when we complain to our Kindergarten teacher that it's not fair that Danny had two turns in the sandbox and we only had one. "Life's not fair," she says. That is true, and painfully so once we consider what a little punk Danny really is. He never would have had two turns if he had not knocked down Susie while running to the front of the line in the first place.

The longer we fight off the acceptance of the truth of life's basic unfairness then the more we will be full of disappointment, anger, and rage at injustice.  In the end it will eat us up.  I am convinced this is the source of much of the hostility and aggression we see on the streets and in the politics of our country today.  This is the reason the raisin explodes.

But it is not enough simply to intellectually accept the fact of life's unfairness.  In order to deal with that fact, a person must also develop a sense of joy.  Joy is different from happiness. Happiness is contingent on "happenstance" -- what happens. When Danny gets a second turn it doesn't make me very happy.  Joy is something else; joy is what I have within me -- the capacity be thankful and know that I am still blessed -- no matter what happens.  Joy in Greek is "kara" -- the root from whence the word character comes from and the meaning of which is "grace" or "beloved".  The person of joy is the person of character who knows they are beloved and graced even if life isn't very fair.

On the last night of his life Jesus commended to the disciples joy. "No one can take your joy away from you," he said. Not Judas, not Pontius Pilate, and certainly not Danny.

Daily Lesson for June 6, 2016

Today's Daily Lesson comes from Ecclesiastes chapter 7 verses 1 through 4:

A good name is better than precious ointment,
and the day of death than the day of birth.
2 It is better to go to the house of mourning
than to go to the house of feasting,
for this is the end of all mankind,
and the living will lay it to heart.
3 Sorrow is better than laughter,
for by sadness of face the heart is made glad.
4 The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning.

On Saturday at a graveside service in Lubbock's oldest cemetery, we offered time for the family to share thoughts and remembrances on the life of the departed.

An old and very wise man spoke up.  "They say that when we are born we weep while the world rejoices; and when we pass away the world weeps while we rejoice. Our tears are for us. She is at peace."

These are words only a churchman could have spoken.

The writer of Ecclesiastes tells us there is a time to mourn. The wise know it is so. We were made to mourn and grief. It is the process of saying goodbye.

When death comes those who have not learned to say grieve and say goodbye -- those who have never been to the house of mourning -- get stuck.  This is one of the great tragedies of a culture and civilization where the church is no longer a part of the fabric and rhythm of the people's lives. The church teaches us how to grieve. It teaches us how to say goodbye.  It is a school for mourning.

Those who have never gone to the house of mourning with others are not able to find the way out when they themselves get locked inside. This is one reason for the mental health crisis we are now seeing in the 21st century. We have forgotten how to mourn.

The writer of Ecclesiastes is right, "the heart of the wise is in the house of mourning".  And there in the house they discover the truth of what St Paul wrote, that "we grieve" -- there is no way around it -- "but we do not grieve as those who have no hope."

That is so true. But it takes a community of faith to teach us how to do it, how to weep for ourselves and also rejoice for our beloved.

Daily Lesson for June 3, 2016

Today's Daily Lesson comes from Matthew chapter 14 verses 28 through 33:

28 And Peter answered him, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” 29 He said, “Come.” So Peter got out of the boat and walked on the water and came to Jesus. 30 But when he saw the wind, he was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried out, “Lord, save me.” 31 Jesus immediately reached out his hand and took hold of him, saying to him, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” 32 And when they got into the boat, the wind ceased. 33 And those in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”

Yesterday I was talking with a friend about parenthood.  He told me about a prior conversation he had with a mutual mentor of ours where he was lamenting his failures as a father and our mentor said he was a good thing he knew how imperfect of a father he was because it would be a terrible burden for his children to try to live up to being as perfect a father as he wanted to be. 

That got me thinking about something that happened a couple years ago.  When I was a boy growing up there was a painting on my grandparents' mantle of my granddad Bill at a rodeo in his mid-fifties sitting astride his galloping horse, roping a bolting calf. He looks every bit the Marlboro Man.  Two years ago after church a woman came up to me and told me her father was cleaning out his attic and stumbled upon some photos of my grandad he thought I should have. I opened the folder and there was the photo which I knew immediately had obviously been used for the painting. Then there was another photo, taken right after the first and as I looked closely I could tell that the horse my granddad sat astride on was just beginning to stumble. And then there was a third photo, taken in the same sequence.  And when I saw it so couldn't believe my eyes. The horse had stumbled head first end over end and was on his back, his legs sticking straight up out of a huge cloud of dust. My granddad was somewhere indistinctly hidden inside the cloud of dust, his neck and head jammed to the ground.

I have thought a lot about those photos of my grandad and think they say a lot about him and granddads and dads and all families in general. 

Don't be fooled by the painting on the mantle; reality is a lot less perfect.

Thank the LORD.

Daily Lesson for June 2, 2016

Today's Daily Lesson comes from Matthew chapter 14 verses 15 through 21:

15 Now when it was evening, the disciples came to him and said, “This is a desolate place, and the day is now over; send the crowds away to go into the villages and buy food for themselves.” 16 But Jesus said, “They need not go away; you give them something to eat.” 17 They said to him, “We have only five loaves here and two fish.” 18 And he said, “Bring them here to me.” 19 Then he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass, and taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven and said a blessing. Then he broke the loaves and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds. 20 And they all ate and were satisfied. And they took up twelve baskets full of the broken pieces left over. 21 And those who ate were about five thousand men, besides women and children.

This story begins with strong emphasis on the great crowd and the little resources.  Five thousand people and just two fish and five loaves of bread -- a problem.  And so long as what they had remained in the disciples' possession the math was very, very bad.

But the miracle happens when the disciples do what Jesus' asks them to do with the loaves and fish. "Bring them to me," he says; and they do. And in Jesus' hands the resources are miraculously increased. The math somehow ends up working out, and all are satisfied.

It was five loaves and two fish when the disciples gave them over to Jesus; it was enough to feed a multitude by the time Jesus blessed and broke them. The miracle took place somewhere between the hands of the disciples and those of Jesus.

In a commentary on this text St Augustine said that there is always enough of that which is intended to be given away.  And the inverse of that is also true, there is never enough so long as that which is meant to be given away is held onto.
And somewhere in between -- between our hands and God's -- lies the miracle we call giving.

Daily Lesson for June 1, 2016

Today's Daily Lesson comes from Ecclesiastes chapter 3 verses 1 through 8:

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
2 a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
3 a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
4 a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
5 a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
6 a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
7 a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
8 a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.

Before modern clocks and calendars were invented the ancients knew what time and season they were in by the signs around them.  The turning of the maple leaf and the first cool breeze from the North said that summer was ending and Fall would soon arrive. The running of the sap during the day was a first sign of blessed Spring.  These signs could not be denied or wished away -- though having lived in Vermont I know what it is to wish away Fall and all that comes after it and I am sure the ancients tried it. But the signs always tell the season; and every season gets it turn.

The same is true in our spiritual and relational lives. Signs say it is time -- time to let go, move on, break away, say goodbye, mourn, reach out, mend a fence, build a bridge, reach for something new.  The signs of our lives tell us when it's so. The spirit of the ancient inside us tells us when to wait, when to watch, and when to act. The spirit will always tell us what season we are in.  Our job is to trust the spirit and to remember that every season belongs -- even the harsh Winter.