Reflections

Good Friday?

2011-04-22T10:05:00.003-04:00

Blood. Agony. Pain. Suffering. These are not words we like to think about, much less incorporate into our daily vocabulary. But, these are the adjectives of today, Good Friday. For most of us, we live in a fairly safe place. Most of us, that is.

Today we come to a day of blood. A day of agony. A day of pain. A day of suffering. And yet, we call this good. This blood and agony, pain and suffering, is all something we cannot escape today not matter how desperately we wish to purge our speech of these ugly words.

When was the last time you took a long look at Good Friday? One cannot take an honest look at this Holy day without being moved. Yet there are many who wish to cleanse the story of Jesus and salvation from these no-so-pleasant images of torture. These words and these images make us uncomfortable. We don’t like to think about things that are not pleasant. I mean, doesn’t the Bible say we should think about things that are lovely, pure, praiseworthy, and good (Philippians 4:8)? So what are we to make of the thinking that comes with the rising of the sun on Good Friday?

The truth of the matter is that the story of Jesus, the climax in the narrative of redemption and salvation, cannot be told without these thoughts. Without blood and agony, pain and suffering, there is no story of Jesus.

I will never forget it. I was in Divinity School and enrolled in a class that every Divinity-School student was required to take: Introduction to Christian Worship. In this class the professor led us through the history of, types of, and ways of leading Christian Worship. Then we took a field trip toward the end of the semester. (I know, a field trip for graduate students! I guess God still works miracles!) We went to a nearby church to participate in what the professor called a Baptism Lab.

The professor said, “Class, I want you to graduate from seminary with the experience of baptizing someone. That way you can say you’ve done it!” So we met at the local church whose congregation had agreed for us to use their baptistery to baptize one another.

It was during Lent (the forty days before Easter, excluding Sundays) and there it was, a large, wooden cross. Some reading this may be saying at this point, “Andrew, what is the big deal about a large, wooden cross in a church…a Baptist church nonetheless?” Unfortunately, my eyes would have glossed over the cross had it not been sprawled out over the pews in the center section of the sanctuary. It was lying across at least fifteen pews. It was placed diagonally so it was taking up a lot of room.

At first I thought, “Oh, they are working on a cross for an Easter production.” Then the man who was leading the congregation as interim pastor entered the sanctuary. He was one of our professors at the Divinity School so we all knew him. We were waiting for the rest of the class to arrive and the pastor began sharing about this cross. “You’ve noticed the cross, I hope.” We all shook our heads in agreement. “Interesting placement of the cross, isn’t it?” Again, we agreed.

Then he began to explain the placement of the cross. It was there for a purpose. It was there on Sunday morning before our arrival for the Baptism Lab and it would be there the next Sunday too. There it was, sprawling across the pews and taking up space. It wasn’t off to the side but was occupying the highest number of pews possible. The pastor shared how each week it was moved to a different place in the sanctuary and was laid across a different set of pews. There would even come a time, he said, when it would be placed in front of the pulpit itself, so as to obstruct the view of the pastor from the congregation. So when congregants entered for worship on Sunday morning, no one would know where the cross would be.

“That’s the way the cross is, though, isn’t it?” the pastor said. “It is always in our way.” He shared how it was occupying the seats of people. It obstructed the arrangement. It was in the way! There was no way of ignoring that cross. Everyone had to change where they would go and what they would do and even where they would sit. (If you’ve ever been to a rural church, you will know this can be a big deal!)

See, that is just it. The cross gets in our way. The cross disrupts our lives. The cross causes us to change direction and leads us in a new direction. This instrument of death, the most violent of any death at that, is now unavoidable. This means the blood, the agony, the pain, and the suffering of Jesus cannot be avoided either. We must all do business with the cross. It gets in our way!

“God, can you please move this cross from in front of me so I can get on with my life?” Have you ever prayed that prayer? For some reason, I doubt it. If we would not dare pray such a prayer, what makes us think we could lives in such a way that the actions of our lives pray such a prayer?

Paul does tell us to center our thoughts on the things of God but he also admits something bold to his Philippian readers:

I want to know Christ and…the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death…” (3:10).

For Paul, and for us, there is no avoiding the cross. In fact it is just the opposite, we must embrace the cross. The cross means blood. The cross means agony. The cross means pain. The cross means suffering. The cross means death…the death of ourselves unto God. The cross means dying unto life!

Good Friday? Absolutely! We are dying to live!

Joy Among the Statues

2010-12-23T13:15:00.001-05:00

I went today to see The Chronicles of Narnia: Voyage of the Dawn Treader. Overall the film was good and worth seeing. But we must keep in mind the attempt of some to downplay the theological significance of the Chronicles depicted in film. (There are, as I am sure you are well-aware, plenty of reviews on the movie. My attempt here is not to critique the current movie, but to draw upon other theological truths found in the Chronicles.)

I am sure many of you read Lewis' masterpiece as a child. You know the stories of the Pevensie children (Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy) who find themselves caught up into a world of kings, queens, battles, deep magic, and sacrifice. I love these stories and continue to be amazed at the connection and relevancy they hold for us today.

In thinking and reflecting on the theme of joy during Advent, 2010, I have returned to Narnia to find a beautifully painted scene. The sixteenth chapter of The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe opens with the following:

"What an extraordinary place!" cried Lucy. "All those stone animals - and people too! It's like a museum."

"Hush," said Susan, "Aslan is doing something."

He was indeed. He had bounded up to the stone lion and breathed on him. Then without waiting a moment he wisked round - almost as if he had been a cat chasing its tail - and breathed on the stone dwarf, which was standing a few feet from the lion with his back to it. Then he pounced on a tall stone dryad which stood beyond the dwarf, turned rapidly aside to deal with a stone rabbit on his right, and rished on to two centuars. But at that moment Lucy said, "Oh, Susan! Look! Look at the lion!"

So, what does this beloved children's story have to do with joy and Advent and anything pertaining thereto? I think it has everything to do with joy and Advent and the message of the Gospel of God through Jesus Christ. See, we are much like statues. We are cold, gray, colorless, lifeless, and though we are moving from point 'A' to point 'B' there is not much other movement. (Not the sort of movement that takes place when a being is truly alive.)

You know this to be true. How many times have we looked around at "the most wonderful time of the year" only to see grim faces, long lines, impatient shoppers, and ungrateful recipients of expensive gifts. Yes, we can move and breathe and talk but there is no life. The life has been sucked out of us for whatever reason. And what now "lives" (if we dare use the verb) inside of us is a heart of stone.

I pondered this today as I sat in the movie theater watching the twenty minutes worth of previews shown before the "Feature Presentation." We are a society that must be entertained. All of the movies previewed this afternoon have a chance to be decent movies. Yet all of the movies that were previewed today were an attempt to outdo what has already been done. And if we cannot outdo the previous movie, we will re-release it in 3-D to "wow" the audience.

(If you are still reading this blog, I applaud you. For you have stuck with me through some pretty deep cynicism.)

About two months ago, Ronna and I decided it was time to tile the bathroom floors. We recruited some help from two skilled men from our congregation and went to work. After putting down mortar, you lay tile. Each tile cut or shaped to fit exactly where it is to go on the floor. The mortar took a solid day to harden and "set." Then it was time to grout. We mixed grout and squeezed it into the 1/8" spaces between the tiles. After letting the grout "set" for 24 hours, we were able to walk on it. One of the men who helped us suggested that we wait a day or two before sealing the grout to allow time for it to finish hardening. When I asked him about keeping water off the floor until it was sealed he said, "Nah. A little water will not hurt anything. In fact, it will be good for the grout as it will be soaked up and the grout will get harder."

We are just like the grout between the tiles. We are just like the plaster used to construct statues. We allow just enough of the living water of God to come into our lives to say we have "gotten wet" that all we have done is let in a very small amount and that small amount is then overtaken and absorbed by the hardness of our hearts. If we would have poured out a large amount of water on to the fresh grout (even it the grout had been sitting for several hours and was beginning to harden), the grout would have broken apart and the grout would not be able to perform as it should. When a sculptor is working with clay or plaster and adds too much water, the medium is then ruined as it will be too soft.

Our hearts and lives are much like the statues Lewis describes and the grout between the tiles on my bathroom floor. We are hard. We are rough. We are set. There is no moving us. There is no re-shaping that will take place. And to make matters worse, we put ourselves on display and want life to be neatly arranged as if we are living in a museum.

What makes a museum a museum is the preservation of the way things were and are. As a Christian pastor, I would be sorely remised it I did not take a moment to comment on the state of the church in America. There are many times when I feel as though churches across this nation are nothing more than spiritual museums. Each Sunday we open the doors and invite people to come into the museum while we take out spiritual artifacts. We admire them, dust them off, and place them back in the preservation chamber until next Sunday. The same is true of all denominations and worship styles.

(Some may say, "Andrew, our church is filled with the spirit and we truly worship each Sunday." Who am I to doubt or judge a true movement of the Spirit of God? But, the question we must ask is: what makes what we do worship? What constitutes worship? Is worship loud music, pounding drums, lights, a dynamic man or woman on stage, and tears from the "audience"? ["Audience" is sarcastically used in this instance, as it was above, with a connotation of entertainment.] What constitutes worship? This is another topic for another post.)

We now find ourselves in a difficult predicament. What can help us? Who can help us? Nothing will help except the breath of Aslan.

See, when Aslan began to breathe on the statues, there was something that began to take place deep inside the statue. Life was deep down inside the statue but had been overtaken by an impenetrable exterior. What takes place is:

For a second after Aslan had breathed upon him the stone lion looked just the same. Then a tiny streak of gold began to run along his white marble back - then it spread - then the color seemed to lick all over him as the flame licks all over a bit of paper - then, while his hindquarters were still obviously stone, the lion shook his mane and all the heavy, stone folds rippled into living hair. Then he opened a great red mouth, warm and living, and gave a prodigious yawn. And now his hind legs had come to life. He lifted one of them and scratched himself. Then having caught sight of Aslan, he went bounding after him and frisked around him, whimpering with delight and jumping to lick his face.

The image Lewis has painted for his readers is the image of joy at work. The work of Aslan is the work of joy. What happens is the life-giving Spirit moving into and upon the cold-stone heart of the creature to revive, restore, and recreate. This is the same work, I believe, God wishes to bring about in our lives and in our world. Our world is in desperate need to be reawakened to the newness of life in God.

There is a stipulation, though. As I read the scriptures, I seems clear that God does not move where God is not allowed to move. God can and will transform our lives. God can and will transform our homes. God can and will transform our churches but only if we allow God to do so. So what does this mean for the statues in "the museum"? The creatures in Narnia were frozen by Jadis, the White Witch. Their true selves were loyal to Aslan, the true King of Narnia.

All of this leads us to the expression of joy known during Advent. So, what is joy? To define joy, it is best to start with what joy is not. Joy is not happiness. Happiness is the result of what happens to you. Joy is the result of what is happening in you. Happiness comes and goes with the tossing and turning of the tide of emotion. Joy is consistent.

The aim of joy is sharing. Joy, being the result of the work of God in our lives, wishes to be shared. Joy wants to find expression through our lives. It is here where we come back to the story of the statues. Aslan continues to breathe life onto and into the statues and

Everywhere the statues were coming to life. The courtyard no longer looked like a museum; it looked more like a zoo. Creatures were running after Aslan and dancing around him till he was almost hidden in the crowd. Instead of all that deadly white the courtyard was now a blaze of colors; glossy chestnut sides of centaurs, indigo horns of unicorns, dazzling plumage of birds, reddy-brown of foxes, dogs and satyrs, yellow stockings and crimson hoods of dwarfs; and the birch-girls in silver, and the beech-girls in fresh, transparent green, and the larch-girls in green so bright that it was almost yellow. And instead of the deadly silence the whole place rang with the sound of happy roarings, brayings, yelpings, barkings, squealings, cooings, neighings, stampings, shouts, hurrahs, songs of laughter.

The work of Aslan onto and into the statues is expressed in a celebration of joy! Joy cannot be contained. Joy must be shared. Joy is the result of God's work and our expression of the work. In the midst of his conversation with his disciples, Jesus shares about the love of God so that the joy he knows in God will be at work in the disciples (John 15:11).

When was the last time you allowed God to work within you to melt a heart of stone? Is your life like a museum? When was the last time the joy within you found expression through genuine, spirit-filled worship? (There should always be times when the expression of joy through worship takes place privately and not in public.) During Advent, I believe God wishes to communicate to us the truth of joy. God wishes to help us find expression of the joy through worship. These are things that money and happiness cannot find!

Joyfully to you....
-ASR

The Bells of Peace

2010-12-20T16:40:00.002-05:00

When is it permissible to listen to Christmas music? Ronna is ready to listen to Christmas music by November 1. In fact, I think it is a miracle that she does wait until November 1. However, every year, I say to Ronna, "Give Thanksgiving a chance!" I don't care to listen to Christmas music until the day after Thanksgiving at the earliest. But when the time comes to listen to Christmas music, there are two carols I could hear again and again and of which I never get tired!

There is something pure and holy about O Holy Night. I am fully aware that logically and biblically, we should not listen to O Holy Night until Christmas Day. But the theological truth and depth of the song is such that it cannot be withheld. Of all the nights throughout all of time, I don't know that there has been a night any more holy than the night when Christ was born. When we stop to think about it, this is the night worth celebrating the whole year!

And when I "hear the bells on Christmas Day," the Spirit of God wells up inside me with joy and cannot be contained! It has only been in the last several years that this Christmas carol has come onto my worship radar. (This may be a surprise to some as the carol itself has a long history and has affected many lives throughout the course of its use.) But it is not only the words of the carol but also the story of the poem behind the carol that are worth noting during the season of peace; the season of Advent.

According to tradition, American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow penned the poem Christmas Bells a few months before General Robert E. Lee surrendered his Confederate Army to General Ulysses S. Grant at Appomattox, Virginia, thus sounding an end to the American Civil War. Today we sing five stanzas of the carol when, in fact, Longfellow's poem consisted of seven stanzas. The two stanzas that have been omitted give reference to the fight of American brothers. Like many of us, Longfellow was desperate to make sense of the senseless war and other tragedies (including tragic events that plagued the Longfellow family). He was asking deep and existential questions about the meaning of life and the question of theodicy. (For those unfamiliar with the term "theodicy," it asks the age-old question "How does God, the God of love and goodness described in the Bible, fit into the picture of pain and suffering?" Those of you who know me personally and my story, know this is something that I wrestle with on a consistent basis. Maybe this is a reason why the carol and poem resound so deep within my spirit.)

Needless to say that in Longfellow's day peace seemed to be in short supply. As brother fought against brother, the chiming of bells to announce the inauguration of peace seemed to fall on deaf ears. Yet, in the midst of the pain and lack of peace, Longfellow is able to capture the essence of the Gospel of God brought to flesh through Christ. As he "rolls along" his "unbroken song", Longfellow joins the angelic chorus singing:

Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests (Luke 2:14).

But Longfellow's cry for peace reaches a climax in the sixth verse of the poem. It is here where I must applaud Longfellow. He does what few of us would ever do. At least, what few of us would ever do in public. His bravery and audacity is one of the many reasons I love this Christmas poem & carol. Upon taking a look around to see the destruction, hate, violence, death, and sin that run rampant, Longfellow pours out, in honesty, the presence of his doubt in God.

When was the last time you were this honest? This is more than lip-service honesty. This is more than telling-the-truth honesty. This is depth-of-the-soul honesty. This kind of honesty comes only from a heart broken before God. This is the kind of honesty we see in the life & faith of Thomas mentioned in the gospels. Thomas is experiencing doubt that comes from deep within him. Often we throw rocks at Thomas for "not believing" when the truth of the matter is any of us would respond the same way he did (see John 20:24-29) given the situation.

Now it is time for me to "practice what I preach." I have experienced this level of doubt. Many of you know my story because you were there (and are still there). Many of you have found yourselves in similar places in life. We find ourselves crawling before God, or who we think is God, and screaming, "ARE YOU THERE? ARE YOU REAL?" When we look around and all we see and experience is death, pain, suffering, heartache, disappointment (I think you get the picture), we too bow our heads in despair and say, "There is no peace on earth." (As a side-note, I would love to hear from you about times in your life when you have felt this way.)

Certainly this must have been the sentiment amongst the earliest followers of Jesus on the day we now call Good Friday. Everyone scatters in fear and shock and rightly so. The thoughts must have included ideas such as, "This has not turned out the way we planned" or "Boy, we were wrong about this guy!" Some may have even gone to the point of saying, "God, we thought you knew what you were doing. But, apparently not!"

This is the point when I find it acceptable to say that I Heard The Bells On Christmas Day is appropriate to sing at Easter as well. Already in this blog, though some would call it little more than a rambling, we have drawn the connection between the biblical narratives of the birth and death of Christ while using the familar carol as the weaving inbetween. By the time we get to the last stanza of the carol, we see the message of Easter. This is the message spoken by the angels at the empty tomb.

Then peeled the bells more loud and deep
God is not dead nor doth He sleep
The wrong shall fail; The right prevail
With peace on earth goodwill to men!
(See Matthew 28:5-7; Mark 16:6-7; Luke 24:1-8)

As with the birth of the Christ, the resurrection is announced by the angelic host yet it is done in a subtle and almost downplayed manner. There is no bursting forth and cracking open of the sky. There is not a new star shining in the sky. What we see to announce that the King of all Kings is alive is an angel statng "He is risen just as He said He would." Now death, hell, the grave, and the power of sin have all be eternally defeated.

So, where do we go from here? I am sure many will say, "Andrew, this is not connecting with today. Eternal defeat of these forces is one thing but I am in turmoil here on earth." The Hebrew word for peace (shalom) carries a connotation of completeness or wholeness. The peace of God is complete and whole and comes to live and reign and rule and guide in a complete and whole way in our lives. This is the peace of Advent. This is the peace that has come into our world.

Go and ring the bells....
-ASR

Anchors Away!

2010-12-03T13:28:00.003-05:00

Anyone familiar with Boy Scouts knows that in order to be awarded the rank of Eagle Scout, one must complete (at the time of my Eagle Scout) twenty-one merit badges and a number of them were Eagle-required badges. These badges included First Aid, Citizenship in the Community/Nation/World, Communications, Personal Finance, Family Life, and the list continues. A boy was also required to earn a certain number of elective merit badges. If my memory is accurate, some of the elective badges I earned were basket-weaving, shotgun-shooting, firemanship, and small boat sailing.

The minimal amount of boating required to complete the small-boat sailing merit badge was done one summer at Scout camp. Those completing the badge would go to the lake each day at the assigned time and, with a partner, climb into a sailboat and take to the "open waters" of Lake John Sabotta. Funny as it may sound, I can still hear my instructor yelling out to us from his kayak, "Harness the wind, boys! Harness the wind!" (What may be funnier is the fact that I think he was serious.) I don't remember much about sailing techniques and skills from that summer. But I do remember one thing: the anchor.

The anchor is heavy and strong. The anchor stays on the side of the boat until ready to be dropped. Once the anchor is dropped, the likelihood of the boat moving is slim at best. The anchor keeps the boat secure and the boat then comes to rely on the anchor.

During this first week of Advent, the week of hope, my mind and heart have not been able to escape the image of the anchor. The image comes from the words of the writer of the letter to the Hebrews in what we call the New Testament.

Because God wanted to make the unchanging nature of his promise very clear to the heirs of what was promised, he confirmed it with an oath. God did this so that, by two unchangeable things in which it is impossible for God to lie, we who have fled to take hold of the hope offered to us may be greatly encouraged. We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, where Jesus, who went before us, has entered on our behalf. He has become a high priest forever, in the order of Melchizedek. -Hebrews 6:17-20

Our lives are much like the life of a sailboat on the open waters. While the sailboat is floating on top of the water, there is a whole other world below the surface. What we know and see from the deck of the boat pails in comparison to the reality beneath the surface of the water. We can see from the deck of the boat that a storm is brewing. Not too long after seeing the storm, we begin to feel the wind picking up and the rain starting to fall. Before long we are hunkered down in the boat because the winds have become violent and the rains torrential. Yet, below the surface of the water, down very deep where the anchor is holding, there is calm and stillness.

This is the hope of Advent. We see the storms of life coming our way and then begin feeling the presence of the storm. As all of us know too well, the storms we encounter on the waters of life are things from the loss of a job, to fears and troubles at home, to the ultimate fear; the fear of death. These storms can pop up from what seems like nowhere. We thought things were going well at work then the boss walks in and in his hand is a pink slip and he says, "I am sorry. I tried." The stories like this are many.

When the waters of life are raging and there is nothing we can do, the anchor of hope is holding us in one place. Though the waves are crashing and the winds are violent, the anchor of hope is strong and secure. The psalmist encourages us with these words:

God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging. -Psalm 46:1-3

Let's be honest. This world is a broken place. There are crimes & wars, hate & death, suffering & injustice. These things constitute the rain and wind of the storms on the sea of life. We cannot escape it. As we read the story of God's activity and work on the earth (found in the Bible) we find that no one knew this truth any better than the prophets. They saw the injustice of the world & the exaltation of pagan rituals and were filled with a holy anger and an unstoppable hunger for the truth of God to be proclaimed.

Now some will surely say, "What does this have to do with hope?" It has everything to do with hope! Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel writes:

The things that horrified the prophets are even now daily occurrences all over the world (The Prophets: Two Volumes in One. Hendrickson: Peabody, Mass., 2009, p.3).

This makes our world a place in desperate need of hope. A hope that is stronger than the problems we see around us. A hope that can overcome the darkest of the darkness! All of this sounds great, right? I mean, we talk about hope for the hopeless. We proclaim healing to the hurting. We bring beauty to the broken. But do we really?

The hope of Advent is that God has broken into this world and announced that unto you is born this day, in the City of David, a Savior, who is Christ the Lord....and he will save his people from their sins (Luke 2:11 & Matthew 1:21 respectively). Some will look at Jesus and respond with an open heart to receive the promise of eternal life. This truly is the heart of the gospel. Yet there is something here that begs a greater question.

What about hope for life on earth? Is there hope for life on earth? I hold to the firm conviction that the work of the church is to bring the hope of God made alive in the person of Jesus to the earth and to life here and now. What good is a hopeful message if it is only about tomorrow? What about a hopeful message for today? What about a hope that is strong enough to anchor us today on the eternal promises of tomorrow?

If you and I have spent any amount of time in theological discussion, you know I read a lot of N.T. Wright. Dr. Wright is known as one of the world's leading New Testament scholars. He is a pastor & professor. He is a speaker & writer. He writes:

Hope is the settled, unwavering confidence that this God will not leave us or forsake us, but will always have more in store for us than we could ask or think.... Learning to hope in the present time is learning not just to hope for a better place than we currently find ourselves in, but learning to trust the God who is and will remain the God of the future (After You Believe: Why Christian Character Matters. HarperCollins: New York, 2010, pp. 2-3-204).

This is the hope of Advent! This is the hope of God! This is the hope for our world! Our world that is broken has been pronounced beautiful by the God of hope. Those who hurt at the hand of death or of another person have healing brought into today by the God of hope. God has done something remarkable in our world. God has brought a hope worth holding on to.

This Advent, may each of us find the hope of God that is sure and strong. May each of us hold to this hope with and unwavering grip. May each of us help those around us to live in a way holds to this hope for today and tomorrow.

ANCHORS AWAY!
-ASR

Advent

2010-11-27T09:20:00.004-05:00

This small (maybe “tiny” is the appropriate adjective) corner of the blogosphere has been titled Reflections. Typically when we think of reflecting, we think of taking time and energy to think about and process aspects of life and events within life that have passed. Therefore, the term Reflections, we would reckon, carries with it the implication of time. We mark the passing of time with devices such as watches and clocks, essentials on our desks such as calendars and planners, and electronics in our hands such as a BlackBerry or other “smartphone.” The passing of time and the reflection on time gone by is important enough to us in the Western World that we mark this passing every moment of every day.

Yet we are entering the time of year when the passing of time is, though it may be subconscious, pivotal. We remember last year’s Thanksgiving and Christmas celebrations with our families. This year may be the first year your family has had to gather since the passing of a beloved family member so the passing of time includes thoughts such as, “Last year was dad’s last Christmas with us.” We think about all that has happened in the last year. We express the joy, disgust, love, regret of the last twelve months during these days our society calls “The Holidays.” In reality, the season we are coming to celebrate is a season not so much about yesterday as it is about tomorrow. The season of Advent means much more than expressing the feelings of the last year, Advent means celebrating the God Who is beyond time; the God of yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

Advent is hope. Advent is peace. Advent is joy. Advent is love. These four expressions of Christian worship come to life in a new and exciting way during the four weeks leading up to Christmas Day. Advent means so much. Advent means that we prepare our hearts and our homes for the arrival of God’s & Israel’s Messiah. The Messiah is to come to establish God’s kingdom on Earth in order extinguish the gap between heaven and earth. An arrival such as this is worthy of our preparation. Our preparation for the arrival of God’s Messiah includes thinking about and meditating on the work of God in this world. We should ask ourselves, both individually and corporately, “What has God done? What is God doing? What will God do?” Advent, above all else, I believe, is about the ongoing story God’s activity in this world as made manifest in and through the person and work of Jesus Christ.

During the next four weeks, I will be posting Reflections (past, present, and future) on the story of hope, the presence of peace, the song of joy, and the life of love all found in Advent. I invite you to embark on this journey with me by adding your own reflections. My goal is for this to be a place of dialogue.

I pray that your Advent celebration is filled with all of the hope, peace, joy, and love that God has brought forth, and is still bringing forth to this moment, into this world through the person of Jesus Christ. May your family experience the road to Bethlehem in a new and exciting way this Christmas. May each of us encounter the God Who Is!

Soli Deo Gloria….
-ASR

It has been a while.......

2010-07-05T10:16:00.005-04:00

As a teenager oh the joy that flooded my soul when I was handed the keys to the family car and the given the instructions, "Son, be careful!" I was now a legal and licensed driver. I could come and go and do as I saw fit. Or, at least, so I thought.

There was more than one occasion when, to my great sadness and teenage angst (those of you who know me know there was never true teenage angst), the car keys were taken from my hand by a loving parent. "Why? This is not fair!," I would yell, "Time got away from me and I did not know what time it was!"

All of this is to say that I have not posted a blog in quite a while. In fact, my last blog was posted on Friday, May 28. The math need not be done to calculate how many days it has been because that will fuel the proverbial fire "slackers guilt." Okay....that was a bit much. Nonetheless, it has been a while since my last posting. I find myself holding the keys to the family car again and yelling, "Time for away from me!"

To account for lost time, suffice it to say, there will be reflections posted soon. Reflections on life, God, and how/where the two intersect. My goal is to post more often. There are a lot of things happening for the rest of the summer. There are a lot of things that have happened already this summer. So....reflections on these things will be posted soon.

Boy, I am glad blogger.com does not take away the keys to the family car!
-ASR

Frankenstein & God?

2010-05-28T08:49:00.003-04:00

Last weekend Ronna and I attend the High School production of Frankenstein: A New Musical. This musical interpretation of Frankenstein is based on the classic novel by Mary Shelley. We attended the musical to see several of our students who were involved in the production. I must say that we were blown away with the level of professionalism and skill in the arena of theatrical arts possessed by our students. The music was beautiful and the story was compelling….and theological.

As we participated in the storyline taking on the role of the observer, the theological overtones became abundantly clear. In the story Dr. Frankenstein wrestles with the meaning of life and death. He dances to the rhythm of science and ethics and desires to unlock the secrets of both life and death. In the process he brings to life “the creature.”

“The creature” is housed in the body of an executed criminal and is operated by organs harvested from other bodies. The desire is pure and the intentions are true. However, when “the creature” comes to life it is only death that is known. This story climaxes with the battle between the creator and the created over life. And so begins the theological connections.

Sitting in the audience it seemed clear that the creature could easily represent humanity while Dr. Frankenstein would stand for creator God. God has created out of love. The force of love was active and moving as the Spirit of God hovered over the face of the deep and breathed into the nostrils of man.

“The creature” ends up turning on Dr. Frankenstein and that is not unlike the tragic fall of man. We have turned away from the love of God in the pursuit of our own desires that only leads to death. Love that is forced is no love at all. Therefore love is always a choice. Since love is a choice, life, as it was intended to be, designed by our creator, is a choice as well. We have to make daily decisions to move into a life rooted and grounded in love.

The love of life carried in the heart and carried forth through the actions of Dr. Frankenstein is what moved him to desire life above all else. When we look at the love of God evidenced in the establishment of life and see how this life, managed by humans, has turned on God, we see where something needs to happen and God Himself becomes man in order to re-create life. Man turns on God to the point that God bleeds and dies.

Thankfully the Easter story does not end with a dead God. It is life and love that eventually take the day. Life does not defeat death by force. Love does not defeat hate through brute strength. However, both love and life remain constant and consistent and simply outlast death and hate. I am convinced that there is no greater story than that of Easter – the God man restoring life and resetting order to a world of chaos.

There is a difference, however, when drawing the theological implications from the narrative of Frankenstein and comparing them to the reality of the Triune God and our interaction, as humans, with this God. The difference is this: the power to create. With all of his apparent love for life and searching for the meaning of life and death, Dr. Frankenstein is still limited by time and space. Victor has to work with the matter that has already been created. Everything in his laboratory, and in his life for that matter, has been spoken into being by YHWH and is therefore not his own. This difference is clear and powerful. The God of all creation has spoken into being the limitations within which we live and move and breathe. Though out of love Victor brings to life “the creature,” love is already in existence because of the nature of God.

May we all continue to embrace the re-created life of Easter and make the choice to live a life rooted and grounded in the love of God. May we all move and breathe in the powerful and redeemable love of God in order to find meaning and purpose.

Bring brought back to life...

-ASR

Blue Notes

2010-05-10T20:28:00.007-04:00

Donald Miller is right. Jazz music does not resolve. During my junior and senior years of high school I was in the Jazz Ensemble. As a junior I played in the trumpet section and as a senior I moved to the rhythm section where I played electric bass guitar. It was here, though...
I did not know it, where a powerful lesson in my spiritual development was being taught.

I can remember our band director, as he would be "teaching" (the class format was more rehearsal and learning to become one with your instrument through improvisation) the Jazz Ensemble, he would make comments about the "blue notes." He referred to these notes as the notes that make the listener (and even the musician at times) perk up and say, "Hey, that sounds different." There are times in jazz music when the chord structure inhibited the resolution of the chord. The "blue note" always leaves the listener wanting more though the listener may not even be fully aware of what he/she "wants." These "blue notes," along with the beats, rhythms, and the very soul of jazz music is what makes it jazz music.

Life is a lot like jazz music. With complex rhythms, shuffling beats, and blue notes. Yesterday was a “blue note” day in my life. It was one of those days when things did not seem to resolve. It was a day when my spirit, as though sitting in at a table in a smoke-filled club listening to a jazz combo, heard the chord structure in a tune and said, “Hey, that sounds different.” I can almost smell the smoke, see the dim lighting, and hear the jazz combo spending “A Night In Tunisia.” (Which by the way is one of my all-tome favorite jazz tunes.) The day was one of these days because of the absence of my mother.

It is days like Mother’s Day that bring up the impossible-to-answer question of life; the question of “Why?” It is the question of “Why?” that puzzles so many while deeply bothering others. There are those in life who are appalled that the question even be asked…especially of a person of faith. So what are we supposed to do? Is it not true that life often leaves us hanging? Is it not true that the questions of life seem much bigger than we are? How are we to respond to the “blue note” days of life that do not resolve and leave us asking for more? We now find ourselves at a crossroads.

These issues are at the very core of our being. We want things to resolve. We want things to be nice and neat. We want order and for life to always work out. We want completion. I want these things as much as anyone. But we live in a world where things don’t always end up this way. We live in a time when there seem to be as many questions without answers as there stars in the sky. And if we, as Christians, find ourselves in these places in our own lives or in the lives of others, will be tempted to force an answer onto these questions which will make no sense. Again, I think we are at a crossroads with three possible paths before us.

One direction leads to denial. We can stick our heads in the proverbial sand and live as though there is nothing wrong. There is such great danger in denial. What makes denial so dangerous? Denial can, if it goes unchecked, prohibit the natural and God-given ability to lament. Some might say, “How can one say these things to God?” I believe God is a big God with a big heart and big hands that are big enough to handle whatever problem I am facing, road I am tolling, or voyage on which I have embarked. The beauty of lamentation is that many of the characters in the narrative of the scriptures find release at this very place. Job, Jeremiah, David, Mary & Martha, even Jesus all come to a place where the pain and reality of life is too much to bear and all come (or are brought) before the Lord broken and beaten by the waves in the storms of life.

The next direction leads to, and can be an offshoot of denial, superficiality. In the church we love clichés. We love to say things such as, “Remember not to question the Lord,” “God will not give you more than you can handle,” and one of my favorites (I hope you can sense the sarcasm here), “Everything happens for a reason.” What is so dangerous about these clichés? I have heard them a thousand times and even fallen into the trap of saying them myself. The danger is in the fact that it masks the reality of the situation behind a superficial faith. In the midst of life’s valleys there is no reason to pretend to “have it all together.” Often times we don’t know what else to say to people in the midst of valleys, or to ourselves when we find that we are the ones in the valley. We fall back on these clichés as if they are our “spiritual crutches.” Referring to the earlier post, falling back on these “crutches” is a result of wanting to approach the finish line of the marathon without the preparation or actually running. These crutches make for lazy theology.

Yet, there is a third path open to those at the crossroads: the path of questioning. Questions are not bad. Questions are not wrong. There is no harm at all in asking questions of faith and life. In fact, the one who claims to be a person of faith without questions is a person who is living in denial and out of touch with reality. I feel questions are necessary to our spiritual survival. I can remember sitting in the sanctuary of Boiling Springs Baptist Church on the day of the memorial service for Dr. Dan Goodman. Someone made the comment about Dan that, “He did not come to church looking for answers but for questions.” Questions matter to our spiritual development. Questions are biblical. Questions arise in the throes of life. If we do not allow ourselves to ask the questions of faith (even the questions we are afraid to ask), how can we be sure that this “faith” is worth having?

“Where is God when it hurts?” God is in the same place God has been all along: present in the pain. I think the words of Andrew Peterson provide a great summary:

And the man of all sorrows, he never forgot
What sorrow is carried by the hearts that he bought
So when the questions dissolve into the silence of God
The aching may remain, but the breaking does not
The aching may remain, but the breaking does not
In the holy, lonesome echo of the silence of God
(from The Silence of God, 2003)

May we find questions to our answers…
-ASR

Reflections

2010-05-04T21:50:00.015-04:00

I finished my seminary degree (M.Div.) at Gardner-Webb University in December, 2009. During the course of study there were several classes which required the writing of theological reflections. During my last semester...
I completed one unit of Level I Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) and it was during this time that these theological reflections became an outlet.

Theological reflection became an outlet for theological wrestling. There are things in this world that do not make sense. As we (American Christians) claim to know God, there are happenings in this world and in our lives that cause us to question the goodness of God. These things cause us to question the love of God. These things even cause us to question the existence of God. Think of the difference it would make if we were honest enough with ourselves and with our God to admit when these times occur. Theological wrestling helps to make it to the sunrise and to shout, "I will not let you go until you bless me" (Genesis 32).

Theological reflection became an outlet for theological development. A runner does not complete a marathon by the simple declaration that he/she is going to run a marathon. The marathon is just as much about the preparation for the race as it is about finishing the race. This preparation can be difficult and, at times, the runner wonders if all the work is worth the outcome. I think too often we fail to see our spiritual development in this light. We want to miss the preparation for the marathon and just want to walk through the finish line. When reading the biblical account of Jacob on the banks of the Jabbok river (Genesis 32, as mentioned above), we see that when the wrestling match is over, Jacob walks away with a limp. He is forever changed. His live is never again the same. When we engage in theological wrestling, theological development is going to take place. When theological development takes place, things might become painful and we will walk away with a theological "limp." But isn't that part of what development is about?

I have thought back about a lot of happenings in my life. There have been times when I have questioned everything that I believe. There have been times when not only was I at the end of my rope but had completely let go of the rope. Thank God for the love that does not let us go. These times of difficulty and questioning require energy from us. Energy that we did not know would be required of us. Energy that is, at times, more than we can give. This wrestling out with the Lord is what brings us to a place of healing, restoration, and peace.

Theological reflection became an outlet in these ways and in others. I treasure the discipline of theological reflection. However, since graduating (though graduation was just under five months ago) I have allowed this discipline to become dull as it has gone unused. My desire and intent is for this blog to become a place for theological reflections and interactions. Encounters with God always leave us changed.

Thanks for "listening".......

-ASR