pondering young frankenstein: walk this way

Out of sinus medication.

Out of deodorant.

And out of coffee.

It probably comes as no surprise that the third one meant we had to go to the store: RIGHT.NOW.

The girls are at their grandparents.

It would have been easy to leave the boys here (while their dad worked from his home office) and go alone.

It would have been easy to drive there and back: 10 or 15 minutes tops, done.

It would have been easier...

But choice by choice, I found myself doing something I seem to do often, lately. Choosing the insane path.

I asked perfectly content, quiet boys to log off the computer and get dressed.

I left a perfectly functioning car in the garage, and we all strapped on bike helmets.

I left a completely legitimate debit card behind and I grabbed $40 from the cash envelope.

And so a ride that could have been quick, or at least peaceful, was long, hot, and filled with arguing over which path we'd take to get there and which of them got to be in front.

Shopping that could have been made simpler, if I'd been alone, OR if I'd brought the car, OR if I'd said "to hell with the budget", was complicated with requests for items that I neither had cash for nor room in my backpack for.

And yet I chose all this.

Finally, back home again, a chance for peace is offered: "Can we watch TV?"

Again, insanity rules...

"No, you argued on the bike ride. That's not loving each other well. Choose something to do together and do it peacefully for an hour. Do that successfully, then you can watch TV."

And with that I purposefully invited more bickering into my home.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

I'm crazy, right? Foolish. This makes NO SENSE.

And for that matter, what on earth does any of this have to do with Young Frankenstein?

Well ... do you remember the part where Frankenstein meets Eyegor? (yes, Eyegor not Igor... watch the movie!) Eyegor says, "Walk this way" and Frankenstein follows. But Eyegor corrects him, saying, "No, walk this way ... this way" implying that he doesn't simply want him to follow where he's going - he wants him to walk the way he's walking (which in the movie happens to be humped over with a cane).

Track with me here: I'm thinking that's the idea behind Jesus's statements about how the way is narrow. About how in fact He IS The Way. About how if we love Him we'll keep His commandments. About how we have to die and be born again and about what it means to believe. I'm thinking Jesus is saying, "Walk this way". Die to yourself, surrender, and be born of the spirit, every single day. Walk like Me.

See, He was pretty foolish. He chose the insane path. The cross is foolishness. And I'm starting to digest the idea that I only believe in Him to the degree that I walk as foolishly, selflessly as He did. Walking His way. That walking in the way of loving God and loving my neighbor, the self-less way, the sacrificial way, the surrendered way, is the only way to eternal life, which is to say, the only way to knowing Him and living me-in-Him-and-Him-in-me here and now. In fact, to the extent that our creeds and confessions and synods take us away from that ... (well, I better save that for another post).

Sweating. Brothers arguing. Young Frankenstein. And what I'm pretty sure amounts to some form of certifiable heresy, depending on who you talk to...

Crazy way to start the day?

I dunno.

Guess that depends on how you look at it. Right now I have a hot cup of coffee. My boys are having fun together. Our bodies are grateful for the exercise, a little less gasoline was burned today, and our budget is in tact. Best of all? It is well with my soul.

Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished this race we're in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed—that exhilarating finish in and with God—he could put up with anything along the way: Cross, shame, whatever. And now he's there, in the place of honor, right alongside God. When you find yourselves flagging in your faith, go over that story again, item by item, that long litany of hostility he plowed through. That will shoot adrenaline into your souls!~Hebrews 12:2, The Message

pondering communion

another post about the Wild Goose Festival...

While listening to Phyllis Tickle speak, I looked over my shoulder and saw The Sarcastic Lutheran standing nearby. I introduced myself and we talked a bit, then she asked, "Would you like to serve communion at the bluegrass liturgy this evening?"

I started to hesitate, wondering "Am I even allowed to do that?"... but when Nadia Bolz-Weber asks you to do something, you say yes.

Bluegrass Liturgy, Wild Goose Festival 2011, Shakori Hills 

The service was unlike anything I'd experienced in my lifetime of church attendance: bluegrass hymns combined with a traditional liturgy and a brilliant, concise, "wait-can-I-hear-that-again?" sermon.

Then came time for communion. I was assigned to a station along with Stuart, a member of Nadia's church.  I must have looked as lost as I felt, because in the shuffle someone quickly threw out, "You know Stuart, right?  The tall, handsome gay guy with the mohawk!"  I wondered how I'd find him in the sea of people.

Turns out it wasn't hard. :)

Stuart and I took our places - he served the bread, I the wine. Each time someone walked up, I watched him look deep into their eyes and say, "The body of Christ, broken for you". Then I looked deep into their eyes and said, "The blood of Christ, shed for you."

As this process repeated over and over again, I became acutely aware that I was participating with the Spirit in something uniquely beautiful and unmistakably True. Everything I'd been wrestling with melted into the Truth of this experience.

"God bless us, EVERY one".

When our line reach its end and the crowd passed, Stuart laid a wafer on my tongue, looked deep into my eyes, and said, "The body of Christ, broken for you." I was weeping as I handed him the cup and said, "The blood of Christ, shed for you." And we hugged.

I knew then, that something had changed within me.  That I'd never be able to go back to the way I was before. And that I didn't want to.

Thank you, Sarcastic Lutheran. Thank you, House For All Sinners and Saints. 

 Thank you, Wild Goose Festival. 

Thank you, Stuart.

pondering what I wish I'd said in the geodesic dome

I spent Saturday at the Wild Goose Festival. I wish I'd been able to camp & enjoy the whole thing but that wasn't possible this year, so I'm content with the "taste" I enjoyed.

One speaker I was determined to hear: Ed Dobson (not to be confused with or related to James Dobson). We come from the same world. I was eager to listen and frankly just be in his presence. Something about our shared history and the fact that he is suffering with ALS drew me to him. He listened as much or more as he spoke but I enjoyed sitting there on the ground near him in the geodesic dome (as cool a place as its name suggests).

He shared with us a question he doesn't know the answer to. It was not an original one and I appreciated that; he wasn't trying to sound pithy or uber-intelligent. His question was, "Why did God command the slaughter of entire people groups in the Old Testament?" which he followed by saying, "Personally I maintain a presupposition that this is the same Creator God who is revealed to us in Jesus Christ."

Of course people had lots of thoughts. None satisfied, and that's to be expected. No answers.

Then someone said something I agreed with. Why do we have to go back into a history that is muddled and uncertain, to ask this question? Don't we claim God is sovereign? And don't entire people groups - families, children - suffer and die by the millions, today? Why does this have to be an abstract question from the Old Testament? Where's the Jesus-God right NOW? Does He ordain this? Does He will this? Is He in control, or are His hands tied? Bono asks this question well in the controversial song, Wake Up Dead Man.

And with that, NOW we have a question. Because we can argue all day about the Bible and about historical perspective and suppositions and errancy or inerrancy, which frankly serve as a smokescreen shielding us from the real question, the real rub.

Do I have an answer? No. But here's what was screaming inside of me and what I wish I'd said in the geodesic dome:

If I didn't believe that the God who made this world and called it good, very good, can and intends to restore it - ALL - to a better state than we can possibly imagine, for His own glory... that there will be (as Julian wrote) a Great Deed whereby all will be well ... that this Deed began at the Cross but has not yet come to full fruition and that we can't begin to understand it or conceive of it right now (just as the Old Testament believers couldn't begin to understand the cross, what that would look like) ... that Jesus is and will be at the center of this because He IS The Way, The Truth, The Life, that everything was made through Him, in Him everything has its being, and He will lose NONE of it to evil ... that our present sufferings cannot compare to what is to come ... that it's better than we can imagine (I can imagine a LOT) but we can participate in it now ... if I didn't believe this to be the bigger story and have hope for its eventual realization, then I'd have to walk away in hopeless despair. Nothing less is consistent, to my sensibilities. I've tasted the various streams of interpretation and none satisfy, nothing less than all is enough for me. Anything short is talking circles around an elephant in the room. And yet that's an impossible, nonsensical "if" because I do believe and I could never walk away. I am His. I don't have Him, He has me. I know this now. Without a doubt. And so, it is well with my soul.

This is the bigger narrative that I believe in:

pondering peter and paul and choking on words

I'm leading a group of girls through Galatians this summer. I say girls because it's come to my attention that that is what women over 40 like to be called :) Nah, half of them are younger than me, I'm just messing with the few who actually ready this.

Chapter two got me to pondering, though... Paul and Peter. First generation, genu-INE apostles. Arguing.

If you sit with that one for half a minute or so you'll get a wee bit of a headache.

We count on these guys to tell us what's RIGHT. To tell us the TRUTH. And they can't even get it right? Pardon me, but what the hell?

Seriously, though, I love it. I found myself smiling. We are not so different from them. It's good to know.

Later in the chapter (in The Message paraphrase we are reading aloud together) Paul not only speaks frankly about not trying to please people, he literally says, "I'm no longer trying to impress God." That made my friend reading it choke on her words, and rightly so.

Because therein is the entire Truth of the letter. The weight of the Message.

Eugene Peterson wrote The Message because of Galatians. It all started with Galatians. Folks weren't CHOKING ON THE WORDS enough.

Good stuff... good stuff.

pondering interruptibility

so I'd barely hit "publish post" on "sheep", below (where I complain about being interrupted) when I see Richard Beck's post on interruptibility.

okay... OUCH.

I get it Father. thanks for the reminder.

to whet your appetite:

Interruptibility is a sign that we are moving at the speed of love.

imperfectly and imcompletely pondering sheep and eagles

It's summer, which means no solitude for me. I'm loving having more time with the kids - we only get one shot at this summer together so we are determined to make the most of it, but the writing takes a big hit. That would be okay, but the problem is the ponderings don't stop - the brain doesn't go on pause or even slow down - and without the "therapy" of writing, I get a little ... I don't know... crazy? Maybe! Feels like it sometimes. Like a damned up river.

I've had several write-worthy ponderings in the past few weeks but no chance to focus well enough to frame them into words. That frustrates me after a while, like I'm finding gems at the bottom of a stream but they are slipping through my fingers. So for today, I'll peck out & publish something that's not only imperfect, but incomplete.

Sheep. For months now I've been hearing references to them. General idea is that people are sheep and leaders/pastors are shepherds. And I get that that's Biblical, I do... but I wonder... are people led by the Holy Spirit supposed to be treated like sheep indefinitely? The sheep analogy leads people to say things like, "If you're a leader and you walk to the edge and peer over you better warn the sheep not to follow, because you'll step back away from the ledge but they'll just keep walking and fall right over." Meaning? Be a wise responsible shepherd. Be cautious and careful how you lead.

But here's what a mind like mine does. A statement like that makes me want to slowly raise my hand, crinkle my brow, clear my throat, and ask, "What's at the bottom of the cliff?" Then my mind goes to another Biblical analogy: eagles. Sure, we're sheep sometimes (or for a time? I don't know) but what if we're meant for more? What if we're made to fly? Sheep fear ledges but eagles don't. Eagles are supposed to SOAR.

So what does all that mean?

I don't know.

(and with that, I've been interrupted too many times to continue... alas, summer! ... maybe that gem will resurface and give me another look at it, I feel it has so much more to say ... I'll have to trust that to the Giver of all good gifts)

the new testament gamble by john lynch

What if I tell them who they are?

What if I take away any element of fear, condemnation, judgment or rejection?

What if I tell them that I love them and I’ll always love them and I love them right now, no matter what they’ve done, as much as I love my only son?

What if I told them that there’s nothing they can do to make my love go away?

What if I told them that there are no lists?

What if I told them that they were righteous with my righteousness right now?

What if I told them they could stop being so formal and jumpy and stiff around me?

What if I told them that I was absolutely crazy about them?

What if I told them that even if they ran to the ends of the earth and did the most unthinkable horrible things, when they came back I’d receive them with tears and a party?

What if I told them that I don’t keep a log of past offenses, of how little they pray, how often they’ve let me down, or made promises they don’t keep?

What if I told them that they don’t have to be owned by men’s religions, traditions or additions?

What if I told them I’m their Savior, they’re going to heaven no matter what, it’s a done deal?

What if I told them that they had a new nature; that they were saints not just saved sinners who should now buck up and be better if your any kind of Christian after all He’s done for you?

What if I told them I actually live in them now; that I put my love and power and nature inside them at their disposal?

What if I told them that they didn’t have to put on a mask, that it was really OK to be exactly who they are at this moment with all their junk, and not have to pretend about how close we are, how much they pray or don’t, how much Bible they read or don’t?

What if they didn’t have to look over their shoulder for fear if things got too good the other shoe was going to drop?

What if they knew that I would never ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, use the word punish in relation to them?

What if they knew when they mess up I never get back at them?

What if they were convinced the bad circumstances are not my way of evening the score for taking advantage of me?

What if they knew the basis of our friendship was not on how little they sin but on how much they let me love them?

What if they had permission to stop trying to impress me in any way?

What if told them that they could hurt my heart but I would never hurt theirs?

What if I told them that they could open their eyes when they pray and still they will go to heaven?

What if I told them there was no secret agenda, no trap door?

What if I told them it wasn’t about their self effort but allowing me to live my life through them?

What if they actually believed that??!!

That’s the New Testament gamble and it’s being lived out in you and me right now.