Move with Your Fire

In the early days of the Tennessee Valley Project (TVA), a dilapidated log homestead had to be abandoned to make room for a lake behind the dam. A new home on the hillside had already been built for the cabin's family, but they refused to move. The day of the flooding arrived and as the bulldozers were brought in, the family brought out their shotguns. A social worker was called in as a last-ditch effort to talk with the family. After hearing them repeat their refusal to move, the social worker pleaded with them, "Help me to explain to the authorities why you won't move in to your beautiful new home."

"See that fire over there?" the man asked, pointing to a blazing fire in the primitive hearth of the log cottage. "My grandpa built that fire over a hundred years ago," the man explained. "He never let it go out, for he had no matches and it was a long way to a neighbor's. Then my pa tended the fire, and since he died, I've tended it. None of us ever let it die, and I ain't a-goin' to move away now and let grandpa's fire go out!" This gave the social worker an idea and she arranged for a large apple butter kettle to be delivered. She explained that the family could scoop up the live coals and carry them to the new home, pour them out, and add fresh kindling. With that possibility the family agreed to move. But they wouldn't budge--until they could take with them the fire of their ancestors (Leonard Sweet, A Cup of Coffee at the SoulCafe).

We get attached to places. And when we further attach relationships and activities with those places, they become even more important and we feel even more threatened by potential moves. When change is proposed or chosen by someone else, we can't imagine leaving our current location. How will we function in a new place? What a graceful, creative invitation to think that we can take what is most important with us! The ability to move our fire and add fresh kindling in a new location means we can respond to new opportunities with less fear. We don't leave the fire behind or let it go out. By faith we not only take it with us, but we find it's inside us. The apostle Paul might not qualify as the most sensitive social worker, but he does offer the graceful, creative affirmation that "God chose to make known how great among the Gentiles are the riches of the glory of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory" (Colossians 1:27). May you feel free to move with your fire to the next place, and there find hope and glory.

Tell It More Than Once

At an Amish quilt auction many years ago I noticed a curious practice. The bidding for a quilt would be going at a fast pace. The auctioneer would declare it sold, in usual fashion. Then the winner of the sale would wave his hand in a circle and shout, "Sell it again!" The same quilt would then reenter the bidding process and the people would bid on it with no less vigor than the first time around.

I'm used to buying something once and taking it home with me. In only a few cases do I like re-reading books or watching movies more than once. I certainly enjoy them the first time around, but am not that motivated to return to them. I realize that I miss a lot by not re-entering the worlds they create. And stories do create worlds of thought, imagination and even healing.

Martin Buber, an Austrian-born Jewish philosopher, reveals the power in telling a story: "A story must be told in such a way that it constitutes help in itself. My grandfather was lame. Once they asked him to tell a story about his teacher. And he related how his teacher used to hop and dance while he prayed. My grandfather rose as he spoke, and he was so swept away by his story that he began to hop and dance to show how the master had done. From that hour he was cured of his lameness. That's how to tell a story" (quoted in Parker Palmer, The Active Life, 36).

Telling our stories accesses and releases energy that can heal or harm. The stories we choose to tell and remember can have a dramatic effect on us. The Christian faith is filled with stories that we keep telling again. They are about God's mighty acts of creation, liberation and salvation in Jesus Christ; stories that involve us and challenge us to change. In Vacation Bible Schools and Music & Drama Camp we participate in the great tradition of telling the stories of Jesus again. We do so in hope that we will be helped in telling the story, again. There is of course the chance that nothing will happen. But we won't know until we try.

Choosing to act with the power in our stories is the challenge from the great theologian, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, in this comment on prayer: "Has prayer transported (you) for a few short moments into spiritual ecstasy that vanishes when everyday life returns, or has it lodged the Word of God so soberly and so deeply in (your) heart that it holds and strengthens (you) all day, impelling (you) to active love, to obedience, to good works? Only the day will tell." May your summer be full of life-giving stories that you are willing to hear and tell again.

Catch and Keep

A turning point in the friendship of Denver Moore and Ron Hall, recounted in Same Kind of Different as Me, came when Denver commented on the style of fishing called "catch and release". He said it really bothered him because "we eat what we catch...in other words we use it to sustain us." He continued, "So, Mr. Ron, it occurred to me: If you is fishin for a friend you just gon' catch and release, then I ain't got no desire to be your friend." Ron felt like the world halted in midstride and fell silent like a freeze-frame scene on TV. Suddenly Denver's eyes gentled and he spoke softly: "But if you is looking for a real friend, then I'll be one. Forever."

In many ways we are disappointed by the failed commitments others make to us and the commitments that we fail to keep. We catch and release friends along the way. Sometimes we transfer that disappointment and lack of dependability to God. The ancient writer, Teresa of Avila, observed that our difficulties in prayer come from "Praying as if God were absent. Many of our difficulties in daily life are probably the result of living as if God were absent" (The Tree of Life, 212). Doubting God's commitment and presence with us may mean that we hesitate to move ahead in prayer, service or deeper friendship with God and others. It's at this point that we can be reminded by God's grace that a primary name for Jesus is Emmanuel, God with us. That means God's got our back, front, and middle; past, present, and future because we are caught and kept in friendship by the Holy Spirit. And in this embrace we are sustained and set free to love. May God bless you and keep you in real friendships this summer and forever.

A Window Lets the Light Shine Through

One of my favorite classic Far Side cartoons has a young man looking down, book in hand, leaning against a door at the Midvale School for the Gifted. He is pushing on the door and the sign just above his hand reads PULL. Sometimes doors can be quite formidable for us. They may represent barriers or boundaries that we struggle to open or understand, let alone pass through.

The writer of Colossians asks directly for help finding a door to share good news: "Devote yourselves to prayer, keeping alert in it with thanksgiving. At the same time pray for us as well that God will open to us a door for the word, that we may declare the mystery of Christ, for which I am in prison" (Colossians 4:2-3). Making assumptions about doors and how they do or do not open, we sometimes forget the obvious opportunity to pray for God to open a door for the Word--that is, prepare the way by providing "windows of opportunity" for the gospel (New Interpreter's Bible). Sometimes opening a door starts with a window.

The Wolverine World Wide Family YMCA in Belmont has a small, lovely chapel. Many people are surprised that there is such a room in the facility. Offering a reminder that the organization's mission is to put Christian principles into practice helps a little. Until Good Friday, April 2, the chapel was separated from the nautilus machines, drinking fountains, and long hallway leading to the locker rooms by a solid wooden door. People hesitated to open the door for fear of interrupting people who might be inside; you also could not tell if anyone was in there. So, we decided to start the process of opening up the chapel by putting in a window with the YMCA logo. At the dedication we recognized that the chapel window now would reveal the light and people on both sides of the door, seeking spiritual, mental and physical strength. Now we could see each other getting better. An invitation was made to devote time on both sides of the door.

If doors are frustrating your spiritual journey, consider putting in a window first to let the light shine through. You also may find people on the other side who are on a similar journey. God bless you in finding and sharing light for your path, and when you enter the YMCA Chapel, PUSH the door open.

Behold the Life of Jesus, Then Believe

The Christian season of Lent begins with Ash Wednesday (February 17) and ends on the Saturday before Easter (April 3). It is a 40-day period (Sundays don't count in the 40) of reflection and action based on our relationships with God, each other and ourselves. The last week of Lent is called Holy Week where the drama and conflict in Jesus' life reach an ultimate point. Holy Week is often the time when theological controversies about Jesus' life, death and resurrection surface as well.

Barbara Brown Taylor, author, preacher and former Episcopal priest, reflects on the effects of conflict in the congregation she served: Once I had begun crying on a regular basis, I realized just how little interest I had in defending Christian beliefs. The parts of the Christian story that had drawn me into the Church were not the believing parts but the beholding parts.

"Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy..."
"Behold the Lamb of God..."
"Behold, I stand at the door and knock..."

Christian faith seemed to depend on beholding things that were clearly beyond belief, including Jesus' own teaching that acts of mercy toward perfect strangers were acts of mercy toward him. While I understood both why and how the early church had decided to wrap those mysteries in protective layers of orthodox belief, the beliefs never seized my heart the way the mysteries did (Barbara Brown Taylor, Leaving Church, 109-110).

In conflict we may retreat to beliefs or standards outside us so that we are less vulnerable to others. That is not the approach of Jesus. Holy Week begins with Palm/Passion Sunday. It is a day that recognizes Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem on a donkey; and his betrayal, arrest, trial, conviction, abuse and death on the cross.

During Holy Week we see that Jesus does not hide behind anything to protect himself in the conflict because of his deep, abiding sense of God's presence, and commitment to love. The story leads us to another beholding part while Jesus is on the cross, a day we call Good Friday,

"Now when the centurion who stood facing him, saw that in this way he breathed his last, he said, 'Truly this man was God's Son!'" (Mark 15:39)

Holy Week is full of divine-human drama. We experience a profoundly moving story that invites us to personally enter Jesus' final earthly days, and behold love's redeeming work in his death and resurrection. Logical explorations and explanations only go so far to describe God's love for us in Jesus Christ. We are then left to wonder at the amazing grace and mercy of God.

Throwing Snow Into Spring

Robert Falcon Scott, a British explorer, made two expeditions to the South Pole in 1901-04 and 1911-1912. On one occasion the weather conditions were such that a white haze blended with the unbroken whiteness of the snow and no horizon was visible. Wherever they looked there was simply one unbroken whiteness. There was no point on which they could direct their course as they drove their sledges forward. Before long they were coming upon their own tracks. Thinking that they were going forward, they were in fact only going around in a great circle. To solve the problem they began throwing snowballs ahead of them in the direction of true south so that they had something to fix their eyes on.

Without some vision of the future, how is it possible to direct one's course in a rational way? In practice we do what Scott did; we have projects, literally things we throw forward, long-or short-term projects, and we measure our progress by the degree of success we have in reaching our self-set targets. But where do these projects lead in the end? Scott had a compass to tell him in which direction to throw the snowballs. Without a compass, how do we know whether our success in reaching our targets is in fact progress or regress? (Lesslie Newbigin, The Gospel in a Pluralist Society).

In the northern hemisphere Easter is celebrated in the Spring, and in Michigan it is a time of unmistakable change from the snow of winter. The winter view is broken by sunshine, melting snow, puddles, mud, returning birds, new buds and a greening of the landscape. We are refreshed by the change of weather.

The struggle of Scott's expedition was against an unchanging landscape, and loss of depth perception and direction. Thankfully God blesses us and the world with a sense of the future. Prophets are the ones called on to announce such a vision: For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope (Jeremiah 29:11). As Christians we are entering the final stage of Lent, a time of reflection on the direction of our lives and God's call to return (repent) to God's way of life in Jesus Christ.

I find Scott's tactic of throwing snowballs and following them ingenious for the harsh circumstances they faced. While the external circumstances in our lives may appear to be an unbroken haze with no horizon, we may together follow "God's gift from highest heaven", Jesus Christ, "the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God" (Hebrews 12:2). May we be blessed this spring with a new or renewed sense of the future, and the gift of Jesus Christ going before us.

First Be Interested

Jim Collins, author of Good to Great and the Social Sectors: Why Business Thinking Is Not the Answer, includes this reflection in his author's notes:

          During my first year on the Stanford faculty in 1988, I sought out professor John Gardner for guidance on how I might become a better teacher. Gardner, former Secretary of Health, Education and Welfare, founder of Common Cause, and author of the classic text Self-Renewal, stung me with a comment that changed my life. "It occurs to me, Jim, that you spend too much time trying to be interesting," he said. "Why don't you invest more time being interested."

The ability to take an interest in each other and especially strangers is a great spiritual gift. With God's heart, Jesus responded to the people he met with compassion, understanding, interest, and God's perspective of love and justice. He demonstrated the relational, saving power of God's love for people in his life, death and resurrection. It is foundational for Christians to be interested in the well being of others. The new church start pastor known as the apostle Paul wrote in Galatians 6:2, Bear one another’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.

Elaine H. Pagels, author and theologian, observed that two sources of success for early Christianity were their theological understanding that people are created in the image of God, not just the emperors; and the concrete care they offered each other.

As one pastor serving two churches and actively volunteering at the Wolverine World Wide Family YMCA, I learned first hand this week about divorce, job loss, likely foreclosure on a home, death and the family tensions it reveals, a wedding request, life-threatening consequences of surgery, what a family wants to give and receive from a church, the renewal of church leadership, the search for a common statement on ministry directions, the openness to integrating prayer in swimming lessons, and the joyful possibilities of ecumenical worship.

How many times are we too concerned with what we have to give, what we want to say, and how interesting we think our message is instead of being interested in the people we come to know in the course of our daily lives? A helpful corrective for me is attributed to Plato: "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle." How much can we learn about God and ourselves by being interested in each other? Offering a listening ear before speaking may be a life-saving gift to someone in need. Receiving such care gives us the hope we can then offer to others. I know that is how God helps me.