It's Going To Be OK

I attended our church's Maundy Thursday service tonight.  We had dramatic readings from the final days of Jesus from the perspective of several characters including Peter, Judas, and Pilate.  I think the point is to understand the roles that led to the crucifixion of Christ.  Holy Week is a sad journey that ends in triumph.  The movement from Palm Sunday to Good Friday is a painful journey that reminds us how all that could be beauty, joy, and peace turns ugly so quickly.  It reminds us how quickly the things we touch turn ugly, sour, and defensive.  That we sent The Innocent to a cruel death reminds us how broken things are.

But tonight, I felt a special message from Christ.  The character of Pilate began to explain his situation, his actions.  I felt like he knew he was guilty, but somehow thought he could talk his way out of it.  Then I thought of Judas, who likely thought he was doing something noble, and Peter, who just outright failed.  Each expressed it differently, but each expressed sorrow, regret, that things had turned out the way they had.  Here's where it happened.  I could sense the presence of God expressing "it alright, everything is going to be ok." 

Not a dismissive, "don't worry about it, it's no big deal."  Not a nonchalant, "no problem, I've got it covered."  But a sincere acceptance, "you're right, you messed up and it is costing me greatly-- but as ugly as this mess seems, I'm going to do something with it.  You'll see.  I'll take this mess and turn it around.  I'll take your failure and make it success, I'll take your betrayal and set it straight, I'll take your weakness and find it's strength.  It's dark and getting darker.  I don't like this any better than you, in fact, this will hurt me more than it will you, I've got much more to lose.  You've got us in a real fix tonight, but it's going to be ok, tomorrow's Friday... but Sunday's coming."

Sound off for Poverty

This weekend, we're leading our youth group in a fundraiser for Love, Inc. called Sound off for Poverty.  The youth of Chestnut Grove (and my wife and I) will "fast" from media for the weekend, Friday-Sunday to raise awareness and money for poverty in our local communities.  We plan to bake goods to deliver to various people on Saturday, and collect toiletry/hygiene items for the Salvation Army and PACEM homeless shelters.  Forget the teenagers, on the eve of this event I am just beginning to recognize the difficulty that no t.v., no computer, no cellphone, no iPod, etc. will present for me this weekend.

So if you feel my pain, head on over to the Sound off website and donate a few dollars to help out the homeless.  An individual name isn't so important, but you can enter Chestnut Grove in the church field and Earlysville, Va in the city field.  So if you support us "tuning out the noise and tuning in the poor" here's your chance: https://www.soundoffforpoverty.org/donations/.

God bless, and I'm sounding off for the weekend.

Louise

Life is so fast.  I wish that I could bring myself to step out of the rat race of life more often to appreciate the richness that so often passes us by.  I lost an aunt this week and I grieve her death.  I grieve for her children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren.  I grieve for my father.  He lost a brother when he was a child, and his parents and other sister died in the 80's and 90's. 

I am approaching a time in my life when the way I view it is beginning to change.  I'm learning that you don't have to squeeze everything out of life for all that it is worth.  Life has enough to offer on its own.  We spend too much effort managing our time, our finances, our children, our possessions-- you get the idea, but the more time we spend managing them, the more they really manage us.

So tomorrow I will spend the day as I have many others.  A life on pause to remember a life that has stopped.  The world will continue around me, I will watch its vibrations and movements, the coming and going of living, but I will be still-- the only way to really appreciate the value of a life that is no more; probably the only way to really appreciate the value of a life.  It seems to take a long time to learn this, but today I prepare so that tomorrow I may simply be... with the ones I grew up with, with the ones who share my blood, with the ones I love.

May we and I especially learn to simply be, and enjoy life for all that it is worth instead of trying to use it all until it is dry and we haven't the time to appreciate it.

Three Feet High and Rising!

OK, I don't know if many people will catch the title reference, but this post has nothing to do with De La Soul (remember Me, Myself, and I).  It has more to do with the amount of snow that I've seen outside my window this winter.  Three feet is an understatement, we're approaching 60 inches this winter with more possible Saturday and Monday.  I don't ever remember this much snow in my life.

We've been out of school nine of the last ten days.  Lots of folks complain about cabin fever, but I see this as a once in a lifetime (ok, maybe 2-5 times in a lifetime) chance to take a break from life and just BE.  Yes, my children have gotten under my skin a bit, my wife and I have had our moments, but I couldn't trade the hours that we have simply been in one another's presence the last two weeks.  We've spent our time watching old episodes of "Little House on the Prairie", playing "Dance, Dance, Revolution", eating (lots more than usual), and just being together.

I know that we get this chance over winter break and summer, but when time off and vacations are scheduled, we seem to plan it away with travel, home improvement, or other activity.  When God really opens the "storehouses of snow" and shuts down our lives, for a day or weeks, he gives us a gift that we're not smart enough to give ourselves often enough.  The gift of rest.

Justice and Mercy

For quite some time, I have been taken by Micah 6:8. I imagine quite a few people would cite it as their favorite verse:

He has showed you, O man, what is good.
And what does the LORD require of you?
To act justly and to love mercy
and to walk humbly with your God.

Justice and Mercy. I could spend hours thinking on the relationship between these two ideals. At once I think that justice is the opposite of mercy. If I am held accountable for my wrongs, how do I see mercy. But if I show mercy, justice is excused.

But then I imagine that if someone has done me wrong, and continues to beat me down, without justice, I will not know mercy.  Justice toward the oppressor may in fact be mercy toward the oppressed.

Only this week, I found these words from Micah echoed in the words of Jesus from Matthew 23:

But you have neglected the more important matters of the law—justice, mercy and faithfulness.

I imagine that justice, mercy, and faithfulness relate to each other in an intricate way and that the context in which Jesus refers to them should shed more light on this relationship.  It is easy to dwell on justice at times, and mercy at others-- especially depending on the circumstances of our lives.  But perhaps standing alone, they cannot be understood at all.

When the Earth Shakes

The Haitian earthquake tragedy has touched me in a much greater way than many other recent tragedies experienced in our world. My previous post includes a video of our church's participation in Stop Hunger Now, and the representative from the organization who worked with us departed Charlottesville on Sunday afternoon to unload the truck and prepare for his next day trip to Haiti. Apparently he returned the day before the earthquake hit.

I'm sure most of us feel an urge to be there, but when I put more thought to this, I wonder just what I could do. With no visible signs of government, infrastructure stressed to the breaking point, and lack of food and water, how many relief workers can Haiti support. I'm sure there is a need for people, but the people who are needed there now are the one's who have planned and trained and anticipated just such events. But still, despite the fact that I'd probably just drain needed resources and create another body for a overstretched land to sustain, the urge is to just be there.

This is where I find God. If I long to join the people of Haiti in their suffering, people whom I've never met. If I long to give of myself, to relieve others who I do not know. Then how much more does God long to enter into our lives? So much so that he did. Through Jesus, God showed that he is in the suffering with us. I don't pretend to know why, but I trust that a God who cared enough to walk among us and endure a personal suffering despite deity wants to communicate that whatever the tragedy, we are not alone.

In the days ahead, perhaps I will learn how to be of help. For now, I've chosen to join with others and simply promote and enable donations and contributions to the Red Cross for disaster relief on this page through the link to the right.

Emmanuel, God is with us.