Thinking about the journey

For most of my nearly 55 years I have tended to view life as a series of destinations, weigh stations, rest stops and arrivals. Only recently have I begun to see that a significant part of life is the journey itself. Perhaps I am just a slow learner, or, perhaps, it takes a few years of hanging out in destination-ville to discover that the fun part was usually the anticipation, planning and journey that got me there. When I read the Gospel I find this same kind of strange journey mentality. Jesus seems to always be on his way somewhere (he doesn't not seem to just wander about much) but many of his miracles happen on the journey -- when he is on the way to doing something else. I used to call this the "ministry of interruption" but am  more inclined to think these days that the interruption was just another part of the journey.

I'm not quite up to John Lennon's "life is what happens when you are making other plans". Because even the making of plans is life, and being interrupted is life and actually taking the journey is life and, there are even a few destinations before we hit the road again that are life, indeed.

I am struggling to see my spiritual journey in the same way. I am not sitting around waiting to go to heaven. This journey of faith has profound value all by itself. I am beginning to understand C.S. Lewis who once wrote that "even if there were no heaven, I would still be a Christian because of the benefits in this life." Being a Christ follower on the journey is in and of itself a benefit. The journey is a benefit. The process and experience and knowing Jesus is a great benefit. And, some day, I will be with Jesus. Being with Jesus is not "going to heaven" it is heaven. . . . or so the journey this far would suggest.

bj

Something about Saturday morning

I have discovered (am discovering) that Saturday mornings are becoming one of my favorite times of the week. I can get up early (who gets up early on Saturday?) I can have my office and my desk to myself in a relatively quite setting and I can work hard focus well and get things done with minimal interruptions. Yea Saturday!

There is something about the uninterrupted block of time that is essential to thought and creative work. Is this part of the Sabbath concept? Is there a divinely inspired benefit to just shutting the world out, the noise down, turning away from the distractions of day to day living? What else must I do to "unplug" and refocus? I'm liking the idea of a weekly "reboot" where I turn the juice off and focus on something completely new and different.


There is just something about Saturday morning.
bj

Moving Experience

Shortly after my Epiphany (January 6) post I learned that I would be moving from my home of 27 years (Syracuse) to a new home in the Buffalo area (Amherst/Snyder) on July 1, 2011. In the church administrative system called the "United Methodist Church" I serve "under appointment" that is to say ultimately at the discretion of my spiritual leader, a bishop. Though I did not seek this move I felt strongly that it was where the Holy Spirit was leading me and so, from first of February (when the change was announced) to the 8th of July when I finally moved, I worked at being in transition.

Transition is difficult. I was Senior Pastor of the same church for 23 years. It is hard to leave someplace where you have married, buried, baptized, confirmed and walked through some significant family, spiritual or other crisis with every family in the congregation. I chose to walk slowly through the "good bye's" and to enjoy a long series of "last suppers" with the friends who were family. I felt like I said my good and thorough fare wells (I also gained nearly 20 pounds doing it -- lot of cakes, dinners, special treats).

Here in Amherst where I am now blessed to be serving the Christ United Methodist Church. We are just beginning to get to know each other. I am learning my way around, making new friends, dreaming some big dreams and imagining the possibilities of what God has in store for us here.

The transition is far from over. I'm the "new guy" in an existing place. My wife is still commuting back to Syracuse for her work, we haven't sold our house in Liverpool, New York (HEY LOOKING FOR A REALLY NICE HOME WITH LOTS OF CHARACTER?) and that general feet in multiple places angst that happens in this kind of experience.

But, having said all of that, isn't all of life transition? Permanence is an illusion we cling to because it is familiar and because it is comfortable. Living life as a Christ follower is like raising children. Someone once told me that the goal of raising children is so they will have roots and wings. I like that. My faith in Christ roots me in an eternal, loving and unchanging God. My faith in Christ also sets me free to fly, to try, to become all that God intends.

Be blessed,

bj

Epiphanies

A funny name that means manifestation or revealing. Christian tradition holds it to be the day the Magi visited the Christ child in Bethlehem (generally believed to be 12 days to 2 years after his birth -- sorry to mess with all of those children's Christmas pageants.

Anyway, Epiphany is significant because the Magi are the first "outsiders" to recognize the child for who he was. Not just the first born of peasant parents from Nazareth but the Son of God come into the world for the redemption of the world.

I have found myself wondering if the modern Christian church will ever understand the importance of getting outside themselves, outside their walls, and get busy revealing the true Christ to the world. Too many of us have Crocodile Dundee theology "me and God, we be mates". Not that intimacy and friendship with our creator and savior is a bad thing but there is another side of the story the "King of Kings and Lord of Lords" part of the story that doesn't just walk in the garden in the coolness of the evening breeze, but commands us to live life for him and to bring heaven to earth.

A understanding of both sides of the story would be an epiphany, indeed.

Good to be back,

DR BJ

Random on a Monday

I have found a tenacious rhythm in the life of the church. As Christ Community's Senior Pastor and primary preacher and teacher, I have come to notice that every seventh day is a Sunday. I have tried to stretch and condense the rhythm of the week but to no avail, the first day of the week rolls around and it is time to preach once again. I love doing what I do and I love speaking of Christ's forgiveness, mercy, grace and love. There is, however, Monday to deal with.
Sunday I am with people all day (I'm an extrovert this is fine), but when I crawl into bed on Sunday night I am tired -- physically, emotionally, spiritually tired. When I rise on Monday that weariness seems to settle in and, like a Spring fog in Central New York, usually doesn't burn off until early afternoon. Typically, my solution to this is to NOT inflict myself on people on Monday morning. Sometimes it is unavoidable, sometimes it is essential, nonetheless, given a choice, I work hard to be invisible, quiet, reflective on a Monday.
Life has rhythms and patterns. The birth, growth, decline, death cycle is familiar (and, frankly, unavoidable). There is the rhythm of sunrise and sunset. The seasons spin from Summer to Fall to Winter to Spring and back to Summer again. We are surrounded by patterns and rhythms. I suspect this is why many of the ancient ones of the Christian movement recommended some type of rhythmic approach to the spiritual life. They developed the monastic hours for prayer throughout the day. They developed the Christian calendar (Lent/Easter/Pentecost/etc.) to frame the rhythm of each passing year.
It is Monday and my rhythmic pattern is to hide for a while and then slowly re-emerge.
bj

Ash Wednesday and "giving up stuff"

I grew up in a Roman Catholic home -- Catholic school for 1st and 2nd grade, first communion, confirmation all that fun religious stuff. One of the favorite things to talk about as we headed toward Ash Wednesday and the season of Lent was "what are you giving up for Lent". I suspect this was the over simplified response of over indulged people to a season of fasting and penitence/repentance. Fasting is going without something allowed (like giving up food or sex or a favorite activity for a season) to focus on God. As school kids we talked about giving up chocolate or Coke or some indulgence that we could well do without and, honestly, wasn't really much of a sacrifice. I wanted to give up broccoli and Brussels sprouts one year (definitely NOT a sacrifice).
Later in life, as I read what some of the Saints of Old understood about fasting I was astonished at how pale and paltry our childhood efforts were (then again, we were just kids). Many of the old ones would go without meat six days a week in the season of Lent. Many of them fasted entire days and even weeks during this time period. Many of them abstained from all manner of allowable activities as a sacrifice to God and a reminder of their mortality and to help them focus on the deeper spiritual matters at hand.
So, here I am in Lent, once again. It is Ash Wednesday. What am I willing to give up that will profoundly change me. One colleague of mine suggested giving up "negative thoughts and comments about self and others (thanks Rebecca)" -- that could be a serious sacrifice for some. Maybe I should give up my passive "watching" -- Internet, TV, movies -- for a season in order to more fully engage with others in mission and ministry. Maybe I should fast from food for a day or two (or a day a week) and give the money I saved to Haiti relief. Maybe I should fast from eating out for the season and give the money saved to someone who needs it more than I.
I don't want to just "give something up" I want to surrender myself, be remade, re-formed and reshaped into the kind of person God has uniquely created and called me to be. . .
. . . more as we move forward!
dr bj

Be My Valentine

The variety of traditions surrounding the "Feast of St. Valentine" are intriguing. The only one I'm working with is the one that identifies St. Valentine as a Roman priest in the 4th century who was martyred for performing marriages. The song bird option, the pairing of the turtle doves option and all the rest are fine (and kind of cute) but I believe that human love can meet its fullest expression in the covenant of marriage and, therefore, I like the idea of celebrating the life and death of a person who understood that same principle.
Marriage is under fire in our culture. We live in a time that is so enamored with the intoxicating feeling of "being in love" that the deeper, broader and Biblical understanding of love is lost. That intoxication eventually leads to a hang over. What happens when the feeling of "being in love" goes away or takes a vacation? What happens when it is not "fun" anymore? What happens when I get infatuated with another person while married? In American culture what usually happens is adultery, divorce and disillusionment. What if the problem is not marriage but how we understand love?
The basis of a healthy marriage is not the feeling of love but the choice of love. Love chooses commitment. Isn't this the language of lovers? I'll be yours forever? We'll live "happily ever after?" The commitment in marriage is three fold. I believe a healthy marriage is a commitment to God; a commitment to the spouse; and a commitment to marriage. With those healthy anchors a couple lives through the ups and downs of emotions and they live through the ebb and flow of life's joys and sorrows. And when I don't like my spouse all that much today, I can still love her because I have chosen to do so.
Have a blessed feast of St. Valentine!

bj