bigger eyes, wider embrace, longer stride

creativity and action on behalf of the poor

My wife blogged today about how one of our friend's is using her little corner of the world to bless people thousands of miles away.  Check it out: Meet Angela - a dear doma friend!!

a child's prayer

Here I go again with lessons I'm learning from my not-quite 3 year old son, Judah...

We pray together often at bed time.  We miss a night here and there because the stress of bedtime can sometimes overwhelm us both.  But last night, after a full evening of playing at the park and a bath to wash off the aftermath of playing at the park, he and I prayed together as he went to bed.  I asked him if he wanted to pray.  Usually he'll say, 'you do it.'  Sometimes he'll repeat after me; most often he'll just listen and say 'Amen' at the end.  Last night he wanted to pray.

And he said, simply, 'Dear God... thank you for everything.  Amen.'

I couldn't have said it better myself.  Sure, long and loving, desperate and devoted conversations with Almighty God have their place and should be part of our devotional lives.  But the simple and exhausted prayer of a little boy was profound in ways for which my grown-up words can only hope.

We followed his simple prayer with the sign of the cross, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  He has worshiped with us in nondenominational, Eastern Orthodox, Anglican, and other churches - so even in his 3 years, he's seen some variety.  He's starting to get it, though.  Sometimes it looks like the sign of the cross, and sometimes it looks like he's swatting away a mosquito.  He often also asks 'Which one's the Holy Spirit?' pointing to his two shoulders. 

(The Catechism of the Catholic Church says that 'the sign of the Cross... marks with the imprint of Christ the one who is going to belong to him and signifies the grace of the redemption Christ won for us by his cross.'  And Martin Luther, in his Small Catechism, says 'In the morning, when you rise... [and] in the evening, when you go to bed, you shall make the sign of the holy cross, and you shall say: In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Then, kneeling or standing, you shall say the Apostles’ Creed and the Lord’s Prayer.)

Dear God... thank you for Judah.

Amen.

refugees in small town USA

I heard Outcasts United reviewed, and the author interviewed, on my drive to the church this morning.  It's the story of an international youth soccer team in a WASP Atlanta suburb.  The boys come from several countries - Somalia, Afganistan, Iraq, Iran, Liberia, and more.  Coached by Warren St. John, from Jordan, they make waves in the small, homogeneous, Southern town where they have been settled as refugees, along with their families.  Remember, though, that they come with incomplete families, parents having been raped, murdered, abducted, and gone missing because of the wars and violence that ravage their homelands.  But here they are.  Making a new home.  Mary Pipher says this of the book, 'The refugee experience of dislocation, cultural bereavement, confusion and constant change will soon be all of our experience.  As the world becomes globalized, we'll all be searching for a home.'  This book is on my summer reading list for sure!  (A nice follow up to one I read a few years ago: How Soccer Explains the World: An Unlikely Theory of Globalization.)

gardens - good for the soul and the belly

I'm starting a garden this year.  I had one when we last lived in Columbus - in 2001 to 2003.  But I didn't grow anything in Virginia or Colorado except herbs.  In Virginia, we couldn't eat the basil fast enough, and in Colorado, we could never water it enough.

I'm back to it, and I'm more excited than ever.  When my father-in-law was in town for Easter, we turn the garden, getting it ready to plan in mid-May.  I'm going to have zucchinis, cucumbers, tomatoes, bell peppers, and hot peppers, as well as basil, cilantro, dill, parsley, and chives in containers.  And all this in a little plot at our duplex in Clintonville.  It's not much space, but I'm hoping for a big harvest.

Check out these two related stories - Caring for God's Earth and Commissioned to Conserve - and get ready to get some dirt under your fingernails.  I'm so glad that my church has a community garden in the Hilltop part of Columbus for the at-risk neighborhoods we serve there, as well as a community garden to help grow food for the Hilliard summer lunch program.

The LORD God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it.  (Genesis 2:15 TNIV)

a creation story and a song (reflections on Earth Day 2009)

I recently bought Judah a book from Half-Price Books called 'Beautiful Bible Stories.'  He's now to that age where he can follow and recount stories, so it's time to dive into the ancient text.  We started at the beginning and read the creation story last night.  The colors were alive.  The mountains, the sun, the giant whales were powerful and majestic.  He loved it.  I did too.  Then this morning, on my run down the Olentangy Trail, I reflected on Earth Day.  Yes, there are things about this Earth that are grievous - wars and pollution, abuse and oppression.  But behind, over, and transcending all this is the reality that God created a beautiful universe where God's glory and grace is reflected and resonated (nearly) everywhere.

I've been doing some more song writing lately.  And as I was composing one day, I was considering the connection between creation and justice.  The two, in my opinion, are inseparably linked.  Justice is action that restores the original intent of creation.  This is one definition, perhaps.  So I wrote a song called 'Glorious One.'  I'll share it with you, but please know this is a rough one-take demo that I and my friend, Ben Sisney, have passed back and forth. 

Download Glorious One (quasi-glorious mix 1)  Here are the lyrics...

The first day
Light and life
In the darkness
And it was good, so very good

The firsty day
Dust and stars
For your glory
And it was good, so very good

Now creation sings your glory

Glorious One
Bright as the sun
Shine on
God of Love
Beautiful One
Shine on, shine on, shine on

Still today
Rule in justice
Break the chains
And it is good, so very good

Still today
Move in mercy
Heal disease
And it is good, so very good

Now all nations sing your glory

Glorious One...

Light is a wave
Move me, move me
The poor will be saved
Prisoners from captivity
Light is a particle
Grace is the miracle...
Shine on...

Now all people sing your glory...

Glorious One...

reshaping the temple (reflections on Acts 5:12-32)

This post is based on the sermon I gave on Sunday, April 19, at Mill Run Xalt.  The preaching text was Acts 5:12-32.

A Vibrant Community

Not even two months after the first disciples at the empty tomb were seized with astonishment and fled the empty tomb in fear, a much different atmosphere has descended on Jerusalem.  There is life!  And it is so abundant, so animated, so exciting, so vibrant.  The text tells us that many signs and wonders were done among the people through the apostles.  This rag-tag group of out-of-work fisherman who thought that their movement had ended with the political execution of their Rabbi have been revived and are taking it to the streets.  And God is doing amazing things through them.

Their words and wonders are creating a buzz.  It’s hard to imagine the excitement, but look closely at this and I think you’ll start to feel the same energy.  Verses 12 to 14 tell us that they were all together but that none of the rest dared to join them… yet more than ever believers were added.  Apparently according to the math of the 1^st century, All + None = More Than Ever.  Tradition tells us that the writer of this book, St. Luke, was a doctor.  He was no slouch in the classroom.  He knew arithmetic, yet even he allowed his normally precise presentation of the life of Jesus and the Apostles to get caught up in the excitement. 

It’s a little bit like my son after our first visit to the Columbus Zoo a couple weeks ago.  He loves the ‘zwoo.’  We went with my in-laws, who had driven in from Buffalo for the weekend.  He loved it!  Afterwards, we had a conversation that went something like this:

Me: Who went with you to the zoo?

Judah: Who?  You and me and mama and me and Grappa Tractor and you and mama and Grappa and Granny Tractor and me. (getting louder and louder with each name in the list).

Me: Where did we go?

Judah: Where?  The ZWOOOOO!!!

All + None = More Than Ever.  This new community had a life of it’s own that transcends scientific or mathematical description.  And if you got too close, be careful, it might just suck you in.  The life of this community was so magnetic, so intriguing and inspiring, that people were coming from the towns surrounding Jerusalem.  And this new vibrant community was going into the streets – and all were being healed!  Can you picture this ball of activity with more and more people coming, being filled with life, and with this community throwing new life into the sick and dying streets of Jerusalem as well!?

A Vulnerable Council

And then… and then… the high priest took action.  This is the same Caiaphas who just two months before accused Jesus of blasphemy during a midnight trial, then sent Jesus the next morning to the Roman authority, Pilate.  Caiaphas thought he had taken care of this little rebellion.  He thought he had strengthened his corner on the religious market for Jews, but here they are again.  He was the keeper of Temple worship.  In the ancient near Eastern world, a Temple was a place where it was believed that heaven and earth met.  And the high priest had a lot of power because he managed that meeting between the human and divine.  And the bigger walls he built around that religious system, the more power he had.  And now there was a breach in that wall.  And it was these out-of-towners who can’t stop talking about Jesus.  Just a few verses earlier, in chapter 4, Caiaphas has a run-in with Peter and John after they had been preaching and healing in the temple courts, and he asks them, ‘By what power or by what name did you do this?’  I’m not sure he cared to hear their answer.  What he meant to say was, ‘I am your authority.  Stop it!’  They were held overnight in prison and threatened not to do it again.  But here they are again, days later, circumventing the high priest’s authority, undermining the authority of the Temple.

The high priest took action.  The text says that he and his cronies were filled with jealousy.  Jealousy.  A much different motivator than the unity and vibrancy of the Apostles’ community.  Jealousy causes us to hide and horde; it causes us to turn inward and to become suspicious and cynical.  Jealous people are threatened by generous people.  And these apostles are being much too generous with this new ministry of teaching and healing in Jesus’ name.  The jealous authorities are getting sick on the generosity of the apostles.  Jealous people get sick when they think about generous people.  A perfect example: The Grinch.  I know I’m in the wrong season, but I love Advent and Christmas and everything about it, so as I was thinking about how Caiaphas must be feeling at this time, I saw him in my mind turn into a grumpy, green monster consumed by jealousy.

The high priest, Grinch Caiaphas, is standing in his Temple, looking out on Solomon’s Portico and at the most recent ‘rebellion’ he’ll need to crush to protect the sanctimonious and separatist purity of the Temple. 

The next morning, Caiaphas sends the temple police to fetch the apostles so that he can try them.  Perhaps he’s hoping to find a reason to hand these guys over to Pilate for Roman-style justice (crucifixion) as well.  But then again, the last crucifixion apparently didn’t solve the Jesus problem for him.  Who knows what Caiaphas is after?  He’s probably losing sleep – jealousy will do that.  He’s probably confused.  He’s probably fatigued from chasing down this new movement meeting on the ancient porch of his Temple.

The Temple police, however, come back with surprising news.  They visited the place where the apostles were put, but they found it to be empty.  The guards were there, but the measures that the authorities had taken to squash this movement have been overcome.  The stone had been rolled away and inside the prison cell, there is no one.  The prison cell is empty.

The Temple police came back with shocking news: ‘He is not here.’

Now Caiaphas is really worried.  A friend of mine who has worked most of his career in high-level security told me once that one of their methods for dealing with emergencies is ‘When in worry, when in doubt, run in circles, scream and shout.’  This is the image we have here of this comically helpless temple court.  The text says that the priests were perplexed and wondered what might be going on.  While the jealous authorities are now reeling in their confusion, they get another report about the prison break, and then they become afraid.  Not only have the Templepolice told them of the prison break, but now someone arrived and announced, ‘Look, the men whom you put in prison are standing in the temple and teaching the people!’ 

Jealousy, confusion, and fear are driving them.  And so they go through the whole thing again – they go get the preaching and healing apostles – this time carefully, they are afraid of being stoned by the people.  They thought if they keep messing with these guys, the peasants who were benefiting from the apostles – remember sick people were being healed, poor people were being provided for – these peasants might start a riot.  So with jealousy, confusion, and fear – not good ways to make a decision – they bring the apostles back in for more questioning.

A Vibrant Community

While jealousy, confusion, and fear are moving one set of characters through the story, something else altogether is happening on the other side of the stage.  Let’s double back and meet up with the apostles again.

Remember, they were dragged from Solomon’s Portico, and placed in prison overnight for the second time.  The first time, they spent the night, were questioned the next morning, and then threatened and sent on their way.  Maybe they expected that, maybe they thought they would take up the cross this time.  They surely weren’t expecting what happened next…

During the night an angel of the Lord opened the prison doors.  The angel told them, ‘That was a close one, watch yourselves better next time.  Now go to Bethany and get some rest at the home of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus… or, if you’d prefer, go back to Galilee.  Go back to your day jobs.  You are fishermen after all.’

No!  An angel of the Lord opened the prison doors, brought them out, and said, Go, stand in the temple.  Go back into the eye of the storm.  Go back to the scene of the crime.  It is a drastically different scenario than the priest and his council, ruled by jealousy, confusion, and fear.  Instead, the apostles are ruled by the power of God, the courage they have in their experience of new life, the compassion they have in healing the sick.  Compassion is a great motivator.  I’ve had the privilege of working along side the poor – orphaned children, widows, the vulnerable and sick – in Eastern Europe, Africa, and Latin America.  When you see extreme need like this, it changes you.  Compassion begins to compel you.  When you see children in Russian orphanages because their parents tried to kill them, or young kids living alone in a village in Uganda because both parents have died because of 'sick blood', or teenagers – boys and girls – getting recruited into street gangs in El Salvador, it can motivate you.  These apostles had seen Jesus hang out with people just like this for three years.  And now here they are, surrounded still by great need – the sick on cots and mats in the streets of Jerusalem.  And they are compelled to share new life with them.

Power, courage, and compassion push them right back to the Temple.  So as the vulnerable council heads out the front door of the Temple to get the apostles for trial, the apostles are coming in the side door, right back to Solomon’s Portico, right back to preaching the whole message about this life.  That’s what the angel told them to do.  It’s interesting that the angel doesn’t really even know what to call it – and comes up with these words: ‘this life.’  Another translation says ‘tell the people the full message of this new life.’  So new that we don’t even know what to call it yet.  Later in Acts, it becomes known as ‘the Way,’ then further north and later on, people start to call them ‘Christians.’  But for now it’s call-it-what-you-will.  It’s new and it’s alive, but we don’t even know what to call it yet.

My son, the one who loves the zwoo, also has an insatiable sweet tooth.  I’ll never forget the first time he had ice cream.  We put the spoon in his mouth and his blue eyes opened so bright and wide that we just started laughing.  He said, ‘What is it?’  Then very quickly, before we could even answer his question, he said, ‘More!  More!’  He didn’t know what to call it, but he knew that he wanted it – this new life of ice cream, or as he began calling it, cre-cream. 

So they did.  The apostles went back to preaching and even preaching to the vulnerable council the whole message about this life, which summarizes something like this: ‘He is risen.’

The Temple police say ‘He is not here’ when they go looking for the imprisoned apostles.  The apostles respond by saying, ‘He is risen.’  Sounds familiar.  He is not here.  He is risen.

We cannot underestimate how important the Temple was to the ancient Jews.  And even to all ancient near Eastern civilizations, a temple is that place where heaven and earth meet.  And there are walls – often stone walls, strong walls – around such a sacred place.  But what we see happening in the weeks, months, and years following the death and resurrection of Jesus is that the Temple is taking on a new shape.  The Temple once static and stagnant and ruled by jealous, confused, and fearful men is now the Temple active and alive and ruled by the powerful Holy Spirit of God, through courageous and compassionate apostles.  At one point, the faithful had to come to the Temple to receive forgiveness and to make sacrifices.  Now the Temple is reshaped and redistributed and is going on the road.  The new Temple – the new relationship between God and humans – is spilling out into the streets where the sick people are laying around on cots and mats, it’s spreading to the towns around Jerusalem where the hungry and hurting people live.  TheTemple is no longer the place where heaven and earth only meet, but now it is the place where heaven and earth overlap, where they collide and collaborate, mesh and mingle.  ‘The kingdom of heaven is here.’  He is risen.

lords and servants (reflections on Maundy Thursday)

On my drive to the church this morning, I was listening to the news on NPR.  I learned that Captain Richard Phillips of the Maersk Alabama is being held hostage by Somali pirates.  As the story is unfolding, we are learning, however, that Phillips is a volunteer hostage.

His sister-in-law said 'What I understand is that he offered himself as the hostage, so that to keep the rest of the crew safe.  That is what he would do. It's just who he is and his response as a captain.'   And his wife also commented that the captain would 'do what he needs to do to keep the crew safe.' 

Jesus said shortly before he entered Jerusalem during his last week of life, 'You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them.  Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave— just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many' (Matthew 20:25-28).  Martin Luther said it this way: 'A Christian man is the most free lord of all, and subject to none; a Christian man is the most dutiful servant of all, and subject to everyone.'

Today, Maundy Thursday, marks the day of where four key events took place in Passion Week:  the washing of the disciples' feet by Jesus Christ, the institution of the mystery of the Holy Eucharist (communion, Lord's Table) at the Last Supper, the agony of Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane, and Judas' betrayal of Christ.  In the midst of this, Jesus teaches with his life and his words.  He gives a new commandment: LOVE!  And the greatest love is to lay down your life for someone else.

This year, as we reflect on Holy Week and what it means for our lives and this cosmos, a cargo ship captain somewhere in the gulf of Aden, is teaching us about a life of service.

the hopes and fears of all the years (reflection on the 15th anniversary of the Rwandan genocide)

This month marks 15 years since nearly 1 million people in the largely Christian nation of Rwanda were ethnically 'cleansed,' that is to say, brutally slaughtered.  UN Ambassador Susan Rice shared with the UN about her experiences 15 years ago as a member of Clinton's National Security Council. 

As I reflect on this violent end to so many lives, I can't help but consider it in light of Lent and Holy Week.  This Friday we mark the day that Christ was 'cleansed,' slaughtered by the powers that be in order to keep the religious and political realities alone.  A new King of the Jews posed problems for the reigning one and for the Roman authorities.  This Sunday at UALC, the preaching text is the account of the resurrection from St. Mark's Gospel. 

Here, in Jerusalem nearly 2,000 years ago, just like in Rwanda today, hope and fear are meeting.  Actually, hope and fear are never far apart.  With so many nations and regions, families and individuals living in vulnerable circumstances, war and genocide, death and abuse are never out of the realm of possibility.  But even in those places, hope takes root.  As the women go early to the tomb to help Jesus maintain some dignity in death (by anointing, by covering the stench of decay), they are met with fearful news.  Jesus isn't there.  They are afraid, amazed, distressed, terrified, confused!  They are told to though to not be afraid, but instead to hope.  But this hope is not passive, it is active!  The hope involves a 4 day walk back to Galilee where the resurrection will be revealed.

Don't be afraid.  Hope.  Act.  Hope and fear met at the manger; they met too at the cross.  Hope and fear are meeting in Rwanda, and in many unsettled and unsafe homes and neighborhoods.  But where hope and fear meet, Jesus lives.  Just as the old Christmas hymn has it, 'the hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.'

settling in

It's been awhile since I posted.  In my last posting I told you about changes for my family and me.  Well, the month of March was intense, so we welcome April (and its showers) and hope to be settled in by May (and look forward to its flowers). 

A brief rundown on the month of March... Julie and I flew, with our kids, from Denver to DC.  I met with some churches, then a couple days later Julie flew to Uganda with doma international.  I drove, with the kids, to southeastern Virginia and continued meeting with churches and sponsors - mobilizing world-changing and life-transforming orphan care.  Then I spoke at two churches Sunday, Crossroads and Hampton Christian.  It was such a blessing to be with my dear friends at Crossroads.  It was there, in October 2003, that Julie and I first became acquainted with Children's HopeChest.

After a week in Virginia, I drove, with my kids, to Ohio, left them with my parents (poppa and grandma) and flew to Denver.  A couple days after getting back to Colorado Springs, the packers and movers arrived and I tried to manage the pack and load in Colorado and work my last week full-time in the office at HopeChest.  Then Julie went straight from Uganda to our new home in Ohio and tried to manage the unload and unpack while my brother and I drove from Colorado Springs to Columbus (it's making me tired to recount all this activity).

Now a couple weeks later, we are slowly but surely settling in.  We are welcoming our new life and lifestyle in Columbus.  I'm getting acquainted and acclamated at our new church, Upper Arlington Lutheran Church, and Julie is continuing to build doma and see exciting new opportunities emerge all the time.

We're getting used to living in a smaller house and an urban community (Columbus is the 15th largest city in the US and has 1.8 million when the metro area is included).  We quickly figured out our basement gets water and that creaky old floors can wake up sleeping children, but other than that, everday it feels a little more like home.

My blogging will kick up again here soon.  Honestly, it's a regular practice that I've missed, but it simply got pushed to the back burner for the last month or so.  I'm looking forward to the normal rhythms of life returning again soon.