Thursday, November 12, 2009

Dave and the Day

"So teach us to count our days that we may gain a wise heart." --Psalm 90:12


At the last church I served there was this guy named Dave. You could like him; you could love him. A whole lot of people did--and still do. He was an honest man, generous with his time, open-hearted and purposeful, customarily wise and gentle. When we added a new wing to the church and remodeled, he was the realistic guy (with an engineering sort of mind), recently retired, who noticed that we might need a little more attention to building management when we added a third more new space to the facilities. No one else wanted to notice that, I guess. Anyway, he remarked about it, and then he offered to be our new volunteer building manager for the church. We accepted, and so began a new adventure for me and for the church. It lasted for several years.

Every couple of days, Dave would show up in my office in the morning in an old pair of jeans and a sweatshirt from one of his kids' colleges. He always had a grin on, and always had a mug of hot coffee that he held across his front. And he'd always step in to see me with his opening greeting--a long, drawn-out, Scandinavian "Sooooo...." That was to get my attention. Then he always followed with the phrase, "Coupla things, Chief...." And then he would fill me in on all the important matters at hand with the building, the custodial staff, the church men who were volunteering on this or that, the most recent projects, and so on. It was the most unpretentious and effective briefing I ever got. "Here's what's going on. Here's what I'm planning. Here's what you need to know. Now, I gotta go get some more coffee and get to work." And off he'd go to do what needed to be done that day.

Dave was such an excellent man. He wanted to use his day well. So... first, you tell the Chief what you're gonna do, then you do it.

Dave always focused on "the day." I think it was an unconscious theme of his. He used "the day" the best he could--whether it was for grandkids, the roughly 150 foster children he and Peg cared for, remodeling projects, lakeside trailer repairs, mission projects in other parts of the country, or just one more day's work at the church. He didn't mind chatting, but he wasn't going to let his projects go unfinished--unless he felt like it.

Dave often completed an analysis of some topic with a favorite phrase, "At the end of the day...." That was his way of wrapping up the "coupla things" he'd been telling you about. He also adopted the practice of a Benedictine monk from St. John's Abbey I mentioned once in a sermon. The monk concluded every message or conversation with this thought, "Have a gentle day." That appealed to Dave, I guess, because forever after, that was also his personal sign-off.

When we learned that Dave was dying from a cancer that was trying to strangle him, and that he was only going to have a very limited number of days to go on, we had a sort of "last supper" with him on a summer evening. We had to speak in the usual cheerful code that people use when they are hoping for the best and fearing the worst. Dave was more honest than any of the rest of us. At the end of the day, just about sunset, he and I happened to step out on the back-porch together. He was quiet. He looked around as if appreciating everything about the day. I asked him, "So how are you really doing?" And he answered honestly: he was afraid, anxious--and yet loved--and he intended to savor every moment of every day until he really came to the end of the day. He said the most important things were family and relationships, and he wanted to make even his last days count, especially with those he loved.

Then we went back in the house--called in to supper, where we broke bread, sipped wine, and shared at the family table. It was a good day.

Have a gentle day, Dave. Now and always. Amen.

Friday, November 6, 2009

...And the Wisdom to Know the Difference

Reinhold Niebuhr is credited with this prayer, "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."

My wife's colleague at work wisely remarks that there are days when she sorts priorities by deciding what will: (a) keep the company from closing, (b) assure no one gets killed, and (c)prevent a lawsuit. After attending to those priorties, nothing else seems quite so desperately important or urgent. She breathes better and does her work more calmly.

Ministry could stand a touch more of that sort of common sense reality-check. Anxiously trying to do everything and please everyone pretty well takes the fun out of serving. "Strive first for the kingdom of God...and all these (other) things will be given to you as well. Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today's trouble is enough for today" (Matthew 6:33, 34).

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Brushes with Plainness

Have you ever talked with your friends about your "brushes with greatness"? An old friend of mine relishes telling a story about his unexpected meeting with the comedian, George Burns, at an airport. Someone else we almost know knew Sarah Palin before she was Sarah Palin. The joke on which these conversations are founded is that celebrities are fleeting events in our lives, and greatness is just passing through on a flight to somewhere else. How should we feel about those of us who remain behind? What are we, chopped liver?

I've had my own brushes with greatness--and obscurity. During the Summer of Love and, as it happened, also of Woodstock, 1969, a friend and I hitchhiked, not to San Francisco or to the Woodstock farm, but to Galveston, Texas and back. We missed the big media events altogether. I was under the thrall of Glenn Campbell's song by that name at the time, and so I did not personally hear Jimi Hendrix solo on The Star-Spangled Banner. However, I have not been materially hurt by missing this experience; my maturation and insights are probably not much different than they would have been had I worn flowers in my hair that summer.

Remember how James and John begged Jesus for prominent places near him when he came into his power, and everybody else got ticked off! The others also secretly had it in mind that they themselves might be great in his kingdom! This can happen in all kinds of business, artistic, academic, domestic, leisure or religious contexts. We wonder, will I be noticed for my greatness? Jesus helpfully tells all such wondering souls, "Greatness is found in serving."

This afternoon, many Christians will share in a celebration of the historic "full communion" of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America and the United Methodist Church on All Saints' Sunday, 2009, at the Hennepin Avenue United Methodist Church in Minneapolis. This is a "greatness" time of Christian union and communion. Bishops Sally Dyck and Mark Hanson (ELCA) and other Christian leaders will be preaching and leading us in the sacraments. If you look for me there, practicing my greatness, you may find me serving grape juice in the balcony.

So it can happen that we learn by one means or another that life's most important events are seldom widely reported, and that Christian life is almost always about plain tasks and assignments faithfully performed. Let us now praise divine ordinariness, the secret to servanthood. The more often we appreciate our "brushes with plainness," the more content we find ourselves--and the closer to God in Christ.

Monday, October 26, 2009

Training Films for Heart-Guided Christians

One of our gifted, younger pastors wrote to me today. We're trading ideas on training films to help Christians and churches recover passion for their ministries. This pastor wrote, "What seems to be missing in so many...churches is a real sense of passion--about life, about God, about neighbors....and while ministry plans and strategies are good, without passion we are going through the motions." Then he wondered aloud, how much deconstructing of the "going through the motions" will be necessary before churches can find a new, authentic passion again.

So, for starters, without regard to film ratings or age, here are some ideas that aren't Sister Act, or Mel Gibson's botched The Passion of the Christ. I'd recommend parts of Zorba the Greek; it's unfamiliar to most, but outstanding. More recently, the animated film Up had a lot to offer. When I left the theatre, I said, every church council should see this film together! Then each council could ask, "Like the character, Carl, what do we need to off-load from our house in order to find a new adventure--or to go heroically to the rescue?" Robert Duvall's The Apostle is superb, as was a much earlier film of his, Tender Mercies.

So those are the early entries for the Top Ten Movies EVERY Church Should Use to Convert Their Hearts to Passionate Ministry. What else would you recommend? I am sorry but we cannot accept recommendations from movies where Moses or Jesus, and everybody else, speaks the Queen's English. Also, no Amaldovar films. If you don't know who that is, count yourself lucky.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

With Jesus or Without?

Every time I get a new cup of latte from Burly's place in Cannon Falls or the Blue Monday in Northfield, they don't check my ID, but there are still a lot of questions asked: vente or grande? flavoring or no flavoring? Skim or whole? Here or to-go? Whipped cream or not? I have learned how to answer these questions. One of these days, I'll be asked if I lived with Jesus or without. God, I hope I know the answer to that question, too.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Only on a Bet

They did it. Not me. A couple of months ago, my wife and some so-called friends of mine started a "stretch challenge" for the four of us. We were each to try something new, out of our comfort zones. Someone committed to trying yoga. Someone else committed to being "spontaneous" with his kids (committed to being spontaneous?). Well, anyway... There was also a most non-United Methodist aspect to this. Again, not my fault. They did it. They agreed that the Loser in this challenge event, the person who did not try their challenge, would owe everyone else a fine dinner at the end of three months for the challenge.

My stretch challenge was to accept a professional back-rub. My wife insists it is "a full-body massage", but I know a back-rub when I see one. This one just extends further in all directions.

Already you see I have competed, or complied; I'm not sure which. I went to the local back-rub artist, at the local Massage and Healing Center, aka "back-rub place". I had to remove my boots and some other stuff, then lie down in a small room where they displayed the Buddha and played the sound of ocean waves. Then the expert back-rubber did. It lasted an hour, kind of.

This is part one. I am obligated to complete two more similar parts in order to fulfill the Challenge and be saved from buying dinner for everybody else. They think this is a Challenge for me because I have body-image concerns dating back to childhood. I think it's just that nobody else ever offered a thorough back-rub.

So, anyway... today I am sophisticated, calmed, de-toxified, and soothed. It's amazing what a good back-rub will do for a guy!

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Kings and Plutocrats

Went reluctantly to see Michael Moore's latest populist film, Capitalism: A Love Story . It actually proved to be pretty provocative.

Among Moore's usual confused segments and cheap shots were disturbing glimpses of a United States that is not in much danger of becoming socialist or fascist, as the Right and the Left respectively fear, but plutocratic--a country governed not by democratic voting processes, but by the undue influence of the extremely wealthy. Moore's statistics and narratives on shifts in tax policies of the last 25-30 years show a clear trend that has led to the decline of the buffering zone of a strong middle-class, the increase of the poor or working poor, and astounding concentrations of wealth among a very few persons. Moore appeals for a return to a fairer, more just land. He says, hauntingly, at the end of the film, "I will not live in a country like this, and I am not leaving."

Coincidentally, the three-year lectionary focuses this week on the texts in 1 Samuel 8-10 where the Prophet warns Israel not to take a king because a king will use up their sons, their daughters, and their fields and vineyards, "but the people refused to listen to the voice of Samuel; they said, 'No! but we are determined to have a king over us..." (1 Samuel 8:19). Samuel was trying to say, "You won't really want to live in a country like that... " On behalf of God, the prophet gave fair warning about kings and plutocrats. They bear watching. Moore seems to think that, all too often, if you follow the trail backwards from uninsured families, foreclosures, and down-sizings, you will find unfair tax laws, deceptively complex investment instruments and dishonest balance sheets among the planet's largest corporations.

Friday, October 16, 2009

God-Borne

The latest "news" via e-mail reminds me of the illnesses and struggles of many friends and their families. An old friend called this afternoon to tell me his long-time partner had died a few months ago; he said it was lonely now. Another extraordinary fellow, a great-souled brother in one of the churches, is dying of cancer. Another is fighting off a cancer. I am reminded that one comes to a stage in life where one's near age-cohorts begin to take the blows of mortality on thier shields; the ranks thin. Among the Greeks, soldiers often served effectively well into their old age; they were mentally tough and strong enough to carry on.

I have been fortunate so far. My armor has not rusted badly. My wounds have not been traumatic, though they have surprised me. Hair gets thinner; it grays. Bodies get larger in the wrong places. Mental functions may slow. There is soreness in joints that one never exerienced before. I am not disturbed by illness at all, yet the possibility this could happen to me and my friends seems strangely more certain and inevitable.

So what? Well, for those of us who assumed when we were young that we were immortal, these things come as a shock. Boomers are doubly distressed; we were to be the fair-haired and irresponsible generation all our days. Now it seems likely we won't last forever after all. Since we cannot, nor can other generations, rely solely upon our good looks and good luck for life and health and world peace, what shall we think and believe to sustain us on the path we're walking?

Not everyone thinks this way, but I do. I listen closely to Paul when he says, "I consider the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us....For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Romans 8:18, 37-39).

When my friend called to say his beloved had died, he also said, "You and I, we once were children; now, we must be grown men." So we grow older, but we also grow up. What great deeds are yet to be accomplished, though we limp as we march? What can be done next to offer the glmpses of the reign of God for which human beings yearn? Don't all of us still have more time in our enlistments to speak kindly, share generously, trust completely in God, pursue justice, and walk humbly? Like Don Quixote, we ride! Not because we are romantics, but because some of us believe we are God-born, God-borne and God-bound.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Mutual Encouragement in Every Event

Count it all joy, brothers and sisters...(James 1:2)

We watched an old movie the other night, Zorba the Greek. It's one of my favorites, starring Alan Bates and Anthony Quinn (as Zorba). Almost no one I know remembers this excellent movie, or has read the novel by Nikos Kazantzakis. This is unfortunate.

The story is one of two very different men, one younger and the other older, one an intellectual and the other a man of the earth, one intellectual and disembodied--and the other with a wild mind and a passionate body. In the course of the story, they develop an intense friendship, suffer and delight together in many of life's events, and ultimately influence one another deeply. The younger man is most changed, for he is enabled to embrace life as it presents itself--with an open heart, equally willing to rejoice and to ache. In a culminating moment of dramatic failure and the literal collapse of their great, shared business venture, the young man finally asks Zorba to teach him to dance an individual's wild, personal dance on the beach--at the very place of their economic calamity.

Zorba says, "A man needs a little madness, or else....Or else, he never dares cut the rope and be free!"

How many of us lapse into "never daring" to be impassioned in our relationships, our tasks, our ministries, or our witness for the generous Christ? How important is it to us that the brothers and sisters in our churches give one another mutual instruction and encouragement for life-embracing joy, teaching one another to dance with passion, and to become the great-souled persons we are called to be?

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Winter's Glancing Blow and Frizzly Breath

The past few days have brought winter's glancing blow and frizzly breath to October--cold winds, some snow. Most of us are just annoyed. Like the President's Nobel Peace Prize; whatever else may be said about it, it is premature. It has come too soon. We had counted on a few more weeks of Indian Summer!

In a small way, the early arrival of winter reminds us of our personal limitations, of our national set-backs, and of our global anxieties. The daily lections from Obadiah this week say, "You say in your heart, 'Who will bring me down to the ground?' Though you soar aloft like the eagle, though your nest is set among the stars, from there I will bring you down, says the Lord" (Obadiah vv.3-4). We had collectively hoped for a worldwide and continuing Indian Summer, but snow has fallen too soon! We have been brought back "down to the ground". The earth itself groans and labors to feed her billions. The poisons of a few decades of prosperity are filtering into our waters. The economy, whether it is recovering or busted flat, is an immense fable few of us truly understand. Wise and humble leadership seems rare, and nationalism or "cause-ism" rampant.

We hope that all of this is just a warning, a glancing blow of winter, an instructive thump of threat. It might be. The sun might shine again, even tomorrow. But, it's also possible, as a Poet says, that "Winter is icumen in, lhude sing goddam." We sing the many verses of that song now because cold times have hurried toward us. They are the times we probably thought other generations would need to face, but they have come to us now. What will we do when history twitters us by name and writes us just one word, which we fear: "Calamity"? Whether that true Winter has come or not, now is the time to find a way through its snows bv a holy path of respectful prayers, christly deeds, innovative risks and lives given to the common good.