The story is told that Robert Louis Stevenson, as a small boy, looked out the window one evening as the dark of night descended and found himself fascinated by the old-fashioned lamplighter coming down the street lighting the gas street lamps. "Look," he cried out in excitement to his nanny, "there's a man coming down the street punching holes in the darkness."

Itʼs easy to despair these days and to surrender to the cynicism within: the political process has all but ceased to function in its role of governing; the financial markets are extraordinarily volatile with each new day bringing the proverbial roller coaster experience for participants; communities continue to recover and rebuild from spring storms; young men and women continue to die in wars across the sea; Somali children die by the hundreds and the thousands because they simply do not have enough to eat. It is a difficult time indeed. So much so, that it has become much easier to point fingers and assign blame than it has to actually do something about the turmoil. But then, just as I begin to feel the despair setting in, I remember the following words from the Ancient Celts: “Better to light a candle Than to curse the darkness. ”

Those are words that thump me between the eyes, because, quite honestly, itʼs far easier for me to curse the darkness in whatever form it takes. But guess what happens when we curse the darkness? Absolutely nothing. It keeps on being dark. But what happens when we light a candle? We feel the same exhilaration as Robert Louis Stevenson as it punches holes in the darkness and we begin to see a path forward.

As youʼve heard me say before, I believe Godʼs second favorite word is “Yet, ” because the scriptures are clear that just because things are the way they are doesnʼt mean they will always be that way. Ours is a God of Hope and no matter how dark the days may be, the candle is being lit for us.

This past Saturday, August 6, was the observance of the Transfiguration of Jesus found in the ninth chapter of Markʼs Story of Jesus. It begins:

2 After six days Jesus took Peter, James, and John and led them up on a high mountain by themselves to be alone. He was transformed in front of them, 3 and His clothes became dazzling-extremely white as no launderer on earth could whiten them. 4 Elijah appeared to them with Moses, and they were talking with Jesus.

It is at this point that Peter almost loses his hold on reality, awkwardly offering to build everyone a crude hut for shelter (as though the Son of God, Moses and Elijah need his help). James and John are silent, apparently in a stupor born of what is happening before them. And if they werenʼt, they surely would have been when the cloud of Godʼs Presence unexpectedly settles on the top of Mount Tabor with them and proclaims,

“This is My beloved Son; listen to Him!”

All in all, an amazing afternoon for the select disciples, donʼt you think?. What do you figure they talked about as they returned to the valley below? Seeing Moses and Elijah, the great prophets? Seeing the cloud and hearing the voice of Godʼs Presence? Or the stunning transformation of Jesus in which the barely- contained divinity begins to sneak past his humanity?

More importantly, what might we take away from such a story? For me, it is a reminder that the fullness of God is barely-contained in the Creation around us. It is in the depth of space on a clear summer night. It is in the first birdsong of the morning. It is in the smiles of my children and the wisdom of my parents. It is in reflected in the mirror when you and I gaze upon ourselves.

The story of the Transfiguration is a nudge reminding us that everywhere we look, we will see the power and glory of Godʼs Presence. It may dumbfound us at first, but over time it will reveal to us once again the wonder we often overlook.

Oh! The Places Youʼll Go! by the incomparable Dr. Seuss

Congratulations!
Today is your day.
Youʼre off to Great Places!
Youʼre off and away!
You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself any direction you choose.
Youʼre on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy whoʼll decide where to go.

Today is your day.

I know it might not feel like it, especially since today is Monday, the most disreputable day of the week. After all, thereʼs been a whole weekend for challenges, uncertainties and assorted demons to gather their strength and make their plans for a full-on assault on you today.

But I repeat with Dr. Seuss: today is your day.

Today is a gift, crafted by the hands and breath of the God who calls you by name and loves you beyond your wildest dreams. Today was not crafted for worry, though worries will be around. Today was not made for sorrow, though sorrow will visit. Today was not made for regret, though that, too, will perhaps find its way into your heart. No, today was meant for joy, for the subtle reassurance that you are Godʼs and that while today might have its uncertainties and challenges, it is also gifted with possibility and potential. Just for you.

Whether we can actually choose our emotions is up for debate. Regardless, we can still choose our path, or as Theodore Geisel said, “YOU are the guy whoʼll decide where to go.” And todayʼs path is meant for your joy:

I have said these things to you so that my joy will be in you and your joy will be complete. (John 15:11)

“Faith is not belief without proof, but trust without reservation. ”-- Unknown author

I am very thankful for the thoughts we discussed yesterday regarding upcoming worship themes and study topics. There is no doubt in my mind that these will help us as we continue to grow in and toward our union with the Triune God. But as we begin a series on saying what we believe in worship this Sunday, I want to emphasize the distinction between faith and belief.

What we believe proceeds from our faith, and faith, ultimately, is about a relationship in which we can trust. This is why the Christian perspective is so important: it is based on the human/divine relationship in which the God of the universe is not an impersonal force or energy, but an Other who loves us enough to be one of/with us.

Beliefs are simply the ways in which we express what we have experienced in this relationship. To put these experiences into words helps us to understand our relationship with God better, but words ultimately fail in describing the fullness of God. This is why doctrines are so very dangerous: they are an attempt to express the inexpressible, and because they do give us some minimal grasp of God, they become seductive. Churches and individual “believers” come to think that this is the totality of their relationship with god: an intellectual grasp of traits of the divine.

Notice that Jesus never asked the woman with the 12-year bleed to recite a creed; he never asked a recitation of the beliefs of the church of the 5,000 who received the gift of loaves and fishes; he never required catechism of the blind, lame, or deaf. Over and over again, he says the same thing: “Your faith has made you well. ” Not beliefs, not creeds, not doctrines, but trust in a relationship he offered/offers to human beings like them and like us in need of hope, encouragement, and love.

On the Monday after Pentecost Sunday, we began what is known in the liturgical calendar as Ordinary Time. Unlike other seasons such as Advent, Easter, and Christmas, Ordinary Time begins on a Monday, not a Sunday. Its color is green... and stays green for a looooong time, all the way to Advent. Being the longest season of the liturgical year, it is also the season in which pastors and congregations alike get really tired of green.

But what IS Ordinary Time? Contrary to its name, it is not “ordinary” in the sense of “routine” or “regular. ” It is “ordinary” because it is “ordered” and its weeks numbered.

“The Latin word ordinalis, which refers to numbers in a series, stems from the Latin word ordo, from which we get the English word order. ” (catholicism.about.com)

Ordinary Time is when we move away from the spectacular beginning, end... and beginning-again of Jesusʼ life that we observe at Christmas and Easter, while moving into the events both spectacular and mundane of his earthly life. It is the time of year when our own Christian life strives to live in the embodiment of his compassion, love, and commitment to the direction of God. As far as I am aware, none of us had angels and traveling stars attending our birth, and it is not yet time for our resurrection, so this is the time for us to engage the challenge of daily transformation. Whereas Lent and Advent are times for us to take stock of our lives and how they do or do not reflect Godʼs desires for us, Ordinary Time is when we do something about it. It is when we take our staff and journey to the places to which we might not venture on our own, and spend time with the people with whom we might not otherwise spend time, doing the things of God that we might not do of our own volition without Godʼs nudge.

And doing these things in Ordinary Time opens the door to do and experience life at its most extraordinary.

Yesterdayʼs worship conversation about balancing free will and accountability was incredible. Our ponderings came to mind this morning as I was reading Paulʼs letter to the church at Rome (ch. 12).

“2 Do not model your behavior on the contemporary world, but let the renewing of your minds transform you, so that you may discern for yourselves what is the will of God -- what is good and acceptable and mature. ”

Hmmm. Sounds good. Putting it into practice everyday might be something of a challenge, though. Too many voices around telling me that I need to have affluence, power, prestige, notoriety and standing in order to be of any worth. What good is having the latest fashions, the fastest car, the most prestigious job titles and living in the most exclusive neighborhoods if Paul is right?

“14 Bless your persecutors; never curse them, bless them. ”

Really? And I say that with all the disbelief and sarcasm of my adolescent daughters. This is not how the world works, Paul. When someone wrongs me, a curse is the first thing out of my mouth, not a blessing. Isnʼt this how God created me? If not, then why does the cursing come so easily?

"17 Never pay back evil with evil, but bear in mind the ideals that all regard with respect."

But I thought free will was all about staking out and defending my territory, and taking care of myself, not engaging in idealism. Ideals are for the naive, not the ones who want to survive and thrive in this world.

"20 And more: If your enemy is hungry, give him something to eat; if thirsty, something to drink. By this, you will be heaping red-hot coals on his head."

Okay, with this one youʼve gone over the edge. Giving my enemy what he needs to survive (and thus grieve me more) flies in the face of everything the world has taught me, and I have to say that youʼve stepped over the line, Paul. What, are you wanting me to live like Jesus or something?

Letʼs face it: God can be troubling. If we spend enough time in his company and take seriously enough the stories of others who have spent lengthy time in his company, we eventually realize that God may be good, but heʼs not always great. At least it appears that way. Even St. Teresa of Avila, after a particularly difficult encounter with God, was quoted as saying, “Lord, if this is the way you treat your friends, itʼs no wonder you have so few! ”

Never mind the disappointment of unanswered prayers weʼve experienced and the mysteries of doctrines that have bumfuzzled us... there are deeper and more relevant troubled waters where God is concerned.

This Sunday, we begin a new worship series that explores the stories in Scripture that are very difficult for us to understand in the light of our experience of Godʼs love. Why would who John describes as being Love Itself eradicate thousands of Canaanites just so that the Jews could move in and take their country? Why would God, whose definition of a best sacrifice is a contrite heart, accept a fatherʼs sacrifice of his own daughter instead? Why would Jesus, whose very life is given for the sake of reconciling humanity with God, tell us that his mission is all about division rather than peace?

Sometimes our tendency as human beings is to run away from the things that trouble us about God. Iʼve known hundreds of church members over the years who would rather skip the crucifixion of Good Friday and head right to the resurrection of Easter. We want the joy without going through the pain. Unfortunately, the discipled life (and probably life in general) doesnʼt work that way. There is pain in reality, there is mystery in Creation, and there is a troubling facet to God.

The good news is that there is also a richness in exploring the more difficult aspects of life and of God. I invite you to join me on the journey.

It was always about giving. Even when the wise men arrived bearing gold, frankincense and myrrh for Jesus, we perhaps should have realized that ultimately, this toddler, now of Nazareth, would in time give us the gifts.

From the wonderful, but belated, perspective of hindsight, we read the stillwondrous Story and understand that the life of Jesus was ultimately about the gift of himself. The days and weeks (eventually years) traversing the ancient land of Israel in search of the people he came to serve; the signs and wonders offered not as a magic show, but as an expression of God’s love for his children; the intimate washing of the disciples’ feet in the last days, the offering of his body to the executioner’s scourge and nails. His life was always a gift to those he would call his “friends”: you and me. (John 15:15)

Paul recognized this amazing and marvelous gift when he says in his letter to the church at Philippi: “he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. ” That phrase, “made himself nothing” is a wonderful word image and can best be likened to the pouring out of a pitcher of water. In other words, Paul is telling us that Jesus poured himself out completely in his incarnation, in his living and teaching, and in his suffering and death, the crucifixion.

For you.

For me.

For all of God’s children.

Even the ones who would misunderstand him, betray him, cry against him, murder him.

Perhaps, more than Christmas, Holy Week is the time to give thanks for the Gift.

Itʼs February. Woo hoo. I honestly canʼt think of a month with which I am less impressed than February. As far as Iʼm concerned, itʼs something of a nothing month: the football season is over and we are left with basketball and professional bowling to keep us occupied on the tube; winter is in mid-stride and itʼs really not a lot of fun to go outside where itʼs cloudy, gloomy, and mushy; and yes, there is Valentineʼs Day, but you have to remember that Iʼm divorced. Thatʼs not a happy day for me.

February, then, is an extraordinarily ordinary month. Which means that we need to be on guard for the sneakiness of God. Remember: ours is a God of paradox (if you want to be first you have to be last, if you want to be greatest you have to be least, if you want to have it all, you have to give it all up, etc., etc.), so it stands to reason that a month of ordinariness might be the precise time when God does something amazing.

I have no idea what it might be. God never seems inclined to give any hints about these sorts of things, but given the fact that “Yet” is Godʼs second favorite word, I am fairly certain that this time of seeming nothingness is simply the calm before the storm. Given a few more weeks, and a less Arctic weather pattern, thereʼs no telling what God might do.

So enjoy the boring days while you can, because once they are gone, we will be the recipients of a veritable explosion of growth, creativity and newness. Like the seeds slumbering in the cold, wet soil of Alabama, now is the time for us to engage in temporary hibernation if we are lazy, contemplation if we are industrious, gathering our own strength for the things that havenʼt happened... yet.

And be assured: something will happen. It may be nothing more than the emergence of spring accompanied by the need to cut the lawn once more. Or it might very well be the renewal of your very life with a sense of resurrection so strong that you will think your life to this point has been a mere prelude. “In the cold and snow of winter, There's a spring that waits to be, Unrevealed until its season, Something God alone can see. ”

“FAMILY MATTERS”

This Sunday, we continue a series on what the Bible can teach us about being part of a family. Living as a family is not easy and itʼs not always pretty, but in the end, the benefits and blessings are unsurpassed:
February 13- Those Who Go Before Us: Caring for Parents
February 20- Those Who Come After Us: Caring for Children
February 27- Marriage: Spaces in the Togetherness
March 6- Birth and Death: Beginning and End

Would it surprise you to be reminded that only a month ago we were still pre-Christmas? Does it seem so much long since you were filled with excitement and anticipation of the Season? Time moves quickly, and in case you have moved past the remembrance and reliving of Christʼs birth too quickly, I share this hymn, “In the Bleak Midwinter, ” with you. It is my favorite hymn of the season, though many do not know it. It speaks of Christmas, but also midwinter, which is now upon us (hereʼs a clip of James Taylor performing the song). May these words bring back again that which you felt with joyful expectation not so long ago:

In the bleak midwinter,

frosty wind made moan,

earth stood hard as iron,

water like a stone;

snow had fallen,

snow on snow,

snow on snow,

in the bleak midwinter,

long ago.

Our God,

heaven cannot hold him nor earth sustain;

heaven and earth shall flee away

when he comes to reign:

in the bleak midwinter

a stable place sufficed

the Lord God incarnate,

Jesus Christ.

Angels and archangels

may have gathered there

cherubim and seraphim

thronged the air;

but his mother only,

in her maiden bliss,

worshiped the beloved

with a kiss.

What can I give him,

poor as I am?

If I were a shepherd,

I would bring a lamb;

if I were a wise man,

I would do my part;

yet what I can I give him

give my heart. (Christina Rossetti, 1872)

For Sunday, January 23

Matthew 4 12 When Jesus heard that John had been put in prison, he withdrew to Galilee. 13 Leaving Nazareth, he went and lived in Capernaum, which was by the lake in the area of Zebulun and Naphtali-- 14 to fulfill what was said through the prophet Isaiah: 15 "Land of Zebulun and land of Naphtali, the Way of the Sea, beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles-- 16 the people living in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned." 17 From that time on Jesus began to preach, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near." 18 As Jesus was walking beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon called Peter and his brother Andrew. They were casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. 19 "Come, follow me," Jesus said, "and I will send you out to fish for people." 20 At once they left their nets and fColhlorwisetdhaims. aroused our 21 Going on from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John. They were in a boat with their father Zebedee, preparing their nets. Jesus called them, 22 and immediately they left the boat and their father and followefudlhfiilml t. hem 23 Jesus went throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues, proclaiming the good news of the kingdom, and healing every St. Augustine disease and sickness among the people. (Todayʼs New International Version)

Upcoming Worship

January 23- After his time in the wilderness Jesus begins his ministry, Matthew 4:12-23

January 30- Paul contrasts Godʼs Foolishness with the worldsʼ wisdom, 1 Corinthians 1:18-31

In February, we will begin a new series on“Family Matters”...what does the Bible have to say about what the nuclear family looks like in reality? What does it have to say about relationships between parents and children? Or about the marriage relationship? Weʼll look at these and other family issues.