Love Saves Us

"If nothing saves us from death, at least love should save us from life."

Pablo Neruda

In a beautiful photo book our son Scott created for us, filled to the brim with stunning photos of our grandchildren, there are also some amazing quotes on love. Neruda's is one of my favorites.

Life is hard.

My friend Kathy, like many others of late, has been living in the deep end of suffering. She has cancer and is going through rigorous treatment. She lost her hair. She also lost her dad. She's a pediatric oncology nurse - which sounds hard every day, and she's being doing it for decades. Hard times. Lots of suffering.

But one Sunday of late she chose to get baptized. And it was, by all accounts, glorious. Our community knows how to throw a baptism. There were banners (handmade with her favorite colors), butterflies (she loves butterflies), a gift table, food and a setting that was so beautiful, it could only be described as heavenly. I lost count, but she expected 5 people to show up and at one point I counted 40. She doesn't talk much in front of crowds, but that day? She spoke to her friends and family with a voice of conviction, hope and gratitude. I will never, ever, baptize anyone who is MORE grateful than Kathy.

Love saved her life. Love is saving our lives. Love saved the life of those who gathered for that holy experience. Nothing saves us from death...love saves us from life. Amen.

May, the Month I Mourn

Soon my body will begin to grieve. We are about to enter into the season of Grayson Owen's (a beloved family friend) birthday and soon after, his untimely death. My body always remembers this no matter how many decades pass. In many ways, Grayson's accidental death was the death of my own spiritual illusions.

Growing up in a family that flaunted rules, I took a different path - the one less traveled. I thought if you followed the rules, played it safe, loved Jesus, and returned your cart to the appropriately designated area when leaving stories, nothing too terrible would happen.

I was wrong.

After the loss of Grayson I was busy feeling helpless. Have you ever noticed how many people tell you the wrong ways to support grieving people? But NO ONE tells you how to do it "right". Of course, I'm old and now I know better: there is no right way to support people in grief. No matter what you do, it is not enough nor should it be. Because there is nothing this side of heaven that fully comforts a family and community who have lost one so dear, one so precious as a son, a friend, a beloved mischievous boy with beautiful brown eyes and gorgeous shiny hair.

But life continued. My kids still required food on the table. So off to Sam's Club I go. It's warm out, early July is my best guess. And it hits me as a trudge to the car with my cart full of food and several useless items that were too good a deal to pass up. Not the grief of his parents, or his brothers, or my daughter. Not the grief of his grandparents or friends. My grief.

So I unload those groceries and trinkets into the back of my mini-van, a vehicle that was accustomed to toting this young man to and fro on adventures with the surviving musketeers, and I DO NOT RETURN THE DAMN CART. I just leave it sitting in the middle of the parking lot.

Because I learned my lesson. Parents can do the best they can and still lose their kids. People can be and do good and none of it is protection from pain.

It is a great con, an attractive one, but a con nonetheless to teach people that if we are very, very good God will protect us from suffering. The worst rebuke Jesus ever offers is when the disciple Peter dares to object to the predicted suffering and death of Christ. Preach him crucified.

We have an opportunity, this Easter season, if we sit with the crucifixion long enough, to realize that what scares us the most is not cured by magical thinking. But if we let it, the resurrection can bring us hope. Not a hokey hope, not wishful thinking, something different.

What do you fear so much that you are willing to buy snake oil to cure it?

Practicing Unconditional Love

You must love in order to be loved. You must be inclusive in order to feel yourself among the include. You must give in order to receive.

Cheryl Strayed

I am so surprised by the universal feeling of being odd, uncool, set apart. I scroll through Facebook and see all these perfect families having their amazing adventures and I think - “Wow, they must be a really put together family.” Maybe there are some of those out there.

When I get to know families, even the ones with the perfect family photos and the amazing destination adventures, I have not yet met a perfectly put together family. Hope springs eternal I guess, but I wonder, especially during this time of chaos and upheaval and crisis, if there might be another perspective to consider.

If Jesus and his community had the internet, there was a young man who surely would have been an instagram influencer. In Mark 10, this influencer shows up and asks Jesus, quite dramatically on fallen knee, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”

Jesus takes some offense to being called “good” by this young man and reminds him of the ten commandments. Which, according to this young ruler, he has kept since he was a boy. Maybe I’m reading something into the text that isn’t here but I hesitantly observe that Jesus has easily welcomed women and children, the demon possessed, and a woman my mother would refer to as a hussy. But this young man? What happens to him? This guy with his sense of righteousness and wealth? What does Jesus do with him.

He loves him. Jesus also suggests he sell all his possessions and give them to the poor! Head bent in sadness, the young man walks away. In fairness, we do not know what the young ruler chose to do. Maybe he eventually did just as Jesus asked. We do not know.

But what we do know is that Jesus was an inclusive kind of guy. He loved the rich and poor, the slaves and free, the Greeks and Jews, the naughty and the nice.

What if we decided to follow that example and love one another all willy nilly? We could stop fretting over who agreed with us or who loved us back and we could just love people. We could love them whether or not they pose on Facebook or shun Facebook. We could love our friends and our enemies. There might need to be some follow up conversations as to how that will look, but wow - I imagine they would be far more interesting then some of the conversations we are engaging in as of late!

Resolutions and Purpose...

Did you get everything you wanted for Christmas this year? Are you satisfied, yet? Anyone drink too much at a family gathering and insult a guest or a sibling? How well did you eat? I’m not referring to how much; I’m talking about how well? Did you pig out on stuffing and sweet potatoes, pecan pie, and coconut cake? Have you started to think about how big your charge card bill will be when you open it in January?

Did the coronavirus, or fights over the Presidential election at Thanksgiving, change the composition of your holiday invite list?

Are you beginning to bargain? Are you promising yourself next year will be different? More controlled? Fewer regrets?

“My purpose will stand, and I will do all that I please.”

Isaiah 46:9-11

I hear people say all the time that they’re done with making resolutions; no more for them! What I suspect they mean is that they’ve lost hope of finding solutions to their problems. Past performance demonstrates that nothing will ever change, so they stop trying. I want you to know that simply because you haven’t found a solution in the past does not mean there isn’t one. If you have some area in your life that you know is incongruent with God’s big dream for you, then I promise you: a solution is available. God’s purposes stand. He purposes and plans for you to have a decent life stands. If you’ve got something that’s holding you back, find someone who once had the same issue and ask them to share their experience, strength, and hope. Then do the next right thing.

Day 3: Sitting Vigil...

The seventh, and final antiphon for this season:

O Immanuel, You are our King and judge, the One whom the peoples await, and their Saviour.

O come and save us, Lord, our God.

O come, O come, Immanuel, and ransom captive Israel that mourns

in lonely exile here until the Son of God appear:

Rejoice! Rejoice! IImmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

What are you waiting for this day before Christmas Eve? Are our longings in alignment with our values? Do our values reflect the faith that we profess? I use “our” and “we” with intention, because my decisions impact you. And your decisions impact me. We are in this together. We are made of clay, bound to make mistakes. Making mistakes is normal. Failing to wrestle with ourselves, acknowledge our limitations, is a pathway to captivity.

Maybe there are some things about ourselves that need mourning. Ok, we can wait quietly and patiently for those who mourn to mourn. We can sit vigil. But we must hold onto hope, sometimes carrying theirs and ours. Or, maybe someone is carrying our hope. God continues to provide ways for the banished to re-enter the circle of life. Let us make it easy for each of us to do so.