One Moral Imperative

This week I had a wonderful breakfast with one of my dearest friends.  We have known one another for about twenty years.  As is typically the case for the two of us, what was supposed to be an hour meeting turned into more than two hours and resulted in a complete overhaul of our calendars.  I would have it no other way.  I simply love our conversations and frankly cannot wait for the next one. 

Somewhere in the middle of our time together we drifted into a theological conversation about issues within the church and our culture as a whole.  Then this statement was made across the table and stopped us both in our tracks as we considered its implications. 

"There really is only one moral imperative after all." 

Without saying another word, both of us understood what was meant.  Nothing else was said.  Nothing else was needed.

Concerning this moral imperative, the author of 1 John wrote, "Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love" (1 John 4:7-8).

The Apostle Paul echoed, "And I will show you a still more excellent way.  If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing. Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends" (1 Corinthians 12:31-13:8).

And it was reflected in Jesus' actions and words over and over again. 

However, somewhere along the way, we have allowed the moral imperative of love to get crowded out by our favorite list of do's and don'ts, smothered by our pet projects and damped by our preferred soapbox. I admit that I find it is much easier to fall into these old, familiar and comfortable habits than to be reminded of the covenant of love I am called to live into each and every day.

As much as we would like to dismiss this conversation as tired and cliche, when we really consider its implications, it should stop us all in our tracks.

What would our church, our world, our lives look like if we allowed ourselves to remember our one true moral imperative and lived our lives as if it were true?

Would enjoy hearing your thoughts...

It Changes Everything

The resurrection of Jesus changes everything!

Death no longer has a foothold in our world.  It is not the final answer. 

What does this mean for those of us who believe?  There are many important answers to this question.  However, neither space nor time allows for a full treatment of them all.  Therefore, I will focus on this...

The belief that Jesus got up means that our lives should be characterized by the hope of the resurrection.  Wherever death appears to reign, we should be proclaiming and bringing life.  When you read death, do not simply think about the end of physical life.  Instead, think of all of the places and ways that people live with the pain of emotional, mental, spiritual, economic, psychological, physiological, educational, political and nutritional death everyday (not by their own choosing most of the time). 

It is our calling as people of the resurrection to proclaim life and bring life into these situations - all through the life giving power of the risen Christ. Resurrection people are called to be the hands and feet of justice, freedom, healing, grace and love in our world. 

This is not about having the "right" answers. If it were, we would never act; we would only argue (hmm, we have seen this before, haven't we?). The resurrection should move us to move!

Come on Easter people.  Christ is risen!  Risen, indeed.  Now let us all pray that we can find the courage to live as if it is true.

Yes, the resurrection of Jesus changes everything!

How might we be agents of the resurrection?  Would love to hear your thoughts.

God of the Grave

Today is Holy Saturday.  This is the day of Holy Week that is often missed.  It is the day that most of us would rather ignore.  This is the often forgotten day between the cross of Good Friday and the empty tomb of Easter Sunday.  This is the day of an entombed savior.  This is a day of separation and sorrow.  This is Holy Saturday, and it is heavy. 

However, let's a new look at this day.  Not only is all of the above true, but this day can also remind us that God is a God who is with us in every way. The proclamation of "Emmanuel" - "God with us" - is not only true in the manger but also in the grave! God is a God with us even in our deepest sorrows, feelings of separation and seasons of grief. 

This is a theme that is echoed in the voice of the prophets.  Isaiah proclaims that the promised one is "a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief...he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows" (Isaiah 53:3, 4 RSV).  It is also picked up in the songs of the psalmists. The author of Psalm 139 writes, "if I make my bed in Sheol (the place of the dead), you are there" (Psalm 139:8 NRSV).  We can also find it echoed in the pen of the author of the book Hebrews when we read, "Since, then, we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast to our confession. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who in every respect has been tested as we are" (Hebrews 4:14-15 NRSV).  And Jesus is recorded as having said,  "Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light" (Matthew 11:28-30 NRSV). 

On this Holy Saturday, a day of sorrow and separation - a day when Jesus lies in a borrowed tomb - we can celebrate the God of the Grave.  In our celebration, we can be reminded that God will never leave us or forsake us; not even in the darkest night nor in the shadow of the grave.

And tomorrow, with Easter's rising, we will shout our "Hallelujahs" all the more.

First Century Tomb in Israel

The Wisdom of the Donkey

Matthew 21:1-11 - 1 When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, 2 saying to them, "Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. 3 If anyone says anything to you, just say this, "The Lord needs them.' And he will send them immediately. " 4 This took place to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet, saying, 5 "Tell the daughter of Zion, Look, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey." 6 The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; 7 they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them. 8 A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. 9 The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting, "Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven!" 10 When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, "Who is this?" 11 The crowds were saying, "This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee."

I want to know if she knew.  I have often wondered if that simple unassuming beast of burden understood what she was being asked to do.  Did she in her own donkey way know who it was that was seated upon her?  Did she know? 

Did she know that she was carrying the one who was called the "anointed one" into the gates of the city?  Did she understand what the crowds were crying out as she walked past?  Did she know?

They may sound ludicrous, but these questions have often danced through my mind this time of year.

However, as ridiculous as these questions may sound, I think they may in fact lead us to something deeper than the contemplation of the mind and thoughts of a donkey.

Could the same questions be applied to us on this Palm Sunday weekend?

Consider this...
Do we know?  Do we understand what it is that we are being asked to do?  Do we in our own human way know who it is that asks to utilize our gifts and talents?  Do we know? 

Do we know that we carry with us the one who is called the "anointed one" into our city?  Do we understand what the crowds cry out as we walk past?

Do we know?

On this Palm Sunday weekend, I am humbled by the fact that God has chosen us - frail, broken, wonderful human beings - to bring the Good News of God's love and grace into our world.  How incredible!

You and I are asked to be the instruments of Easter. 

"Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven!"

Playing in the Water

I have been a part of Second Presbyterian Church for over 20 years.  I have seen a lot happen in that incredible building full of that amazing congregation.  But today, something new happened.  It was something that unexpectedly transformed me (I guess all transformations are unexpected, but this one knocked me off balance).

One of my favorite moments in worship is infant baptism.  I love the liturgy.  I love watching the faces of the parents.  I love the questions asked of the parents and the congregation by one of our elders.  I love to watch the pastor as she holds the young child and asks the parents for the child's "Christian name".  I love the water as it caresses the head and trickles down the face of the infant.  I love the way the child acts and interacts with everything that is happening.  It is almost as if the baby knows something big is about to take place!

Today, a young boy was handed to the minister by his mother.  She told the minister his name, and then something amazing transpired.  As the minister approached the baptismal font the child saw the water glistening there.  His eyes were fixed.  You could tell that as he leaned in toward the font that he wanted the water.  He reached for it, and the minister did her best to redirect him by shifting his weight in her arms.  Undaunted, the little one once again reached out for the water.  This time he got his hand in it, and that was when the fun really started. 

This beautiful child of God leaned in with all his might and began having a splash fest in the waters of baptism.  He could not be stopped.  He was going to play with this water and there was nothing the minister or anyone else could do about it.  To her credit, the minister allowed it to happen once she saw that it was inevitable.  In fact, it appeared as though she allowed herself to enjoy it almost as much as the child did.  By the time the baptism was over, the entire first row of children gathered on the chancel steps to witness the baptism were wet with the waters of baptism. 

And then the question hit me as tears welled in my eyes.  Do I have the courage to play in the waters of baptism?  Do you?

In the waters of baptism...
...we are purified.
...we are reminded that we belong to something bigger than ourselves.
...we are named as children of God.
...we are covered in God's grace.

Are there any better waters in which to play?

This morning one child had the courage to play in the water, and the congregation was reminded that we all should find joy there. 

Come on in.  The water is fine!  Let's all go play!

How then were your eyes opened?

This past Sunday, the Gospel lectionary text was the story of a man who was born blind and his interaction with Jesus.  It is a confusingly beautiful story of pain, sorrow and restoration, life. 

Take a moment to read it...

John 9:1-12

1 As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth. 2 His disciples asked him, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" 3 "Neither this man nor his parents sinned," said Jesus, "but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life. 4 As long as it is day, we must do the work of him who sent me. Night is coming, when no one can work. 5 While I am in the world, I am the light of the world." 6 Having said this, he spit on the ground, made some mud with the saliva, and put it on the man's eyes. 7 "Go," he told him, "wash in the Pool of Siloam" (this word means Sent). So the man went and washed, and came home seeing. 8 His neighbors and those who had formerly seen him begging asked, "Isn't this the same man who used to sit and beg?" 9 Some claimed that he was. Others said, "No, he only looks like him." But he himself insisted, "I am the man." 10 "How then were your eyes opened?" they demanded. 11 He replied, "The man they call Jesus made some mud and put it on my eyes. He told me to go to Siloam and wash. So I went and washed, and then I could see." 12 "Where is this man?" they asked him. "I don't know," he said.

Throughout the season of Lent, I have been reading a daily devotion on Journey to the Cross, a wonderful online Lenten Devotional written by Andy Watts and Amy Dodson-Watts. On Wednesday, their devotional centered on the above passage from John about the blind beggar.  About this passage, they wrote the following, 

Could this story be about visibility more than sight? People in Jesus’ day believed blindness was caused by sin. The blind lived tough and lonely lives. They were invisible and out of sight to the world. Chances are, this man never had a real conversation with anyone but his parents or another beggar. He couldn’t see others. They couldn’t see him. And he couldn’t see himself as fully human. 

But with Jesus, all that changed. The man began, in Thomas Merton’s words, to 'shine like the sun.' He became visible to others, and they to him. No longer invisible, he was God’s beloved. The muddy gift restored his personhood and his community.

What part of you needs the healing mud of Jesus? What do you need to more fully love God, your neighbor, and yourself? If people were to say of you, 'Is this not the person who used to ________ and _______?' how would you fill in the blanks?



Pool of Siloam, Jerusalem



Jesus came to restore sight.  Jesus came to restore personhood.  Jesus came to restore community.

During this season of Lent, where is it that you need to be restored.  May you be given sight. May your personhood be restored.  May you begin to live into the community of the restored.
Go, wash and be restored! 

Sweeter then Honey

Psalm 119:98-103 - "Your commands make me wiser than my enemies, for they are ever with me. I have more insight than all my teachers, for I meditate on your statutes. I have more understanding than the elders, for I obey your precepts. I have kept my feet from every evil path so that I might obey your word. I have not departed from your laws, for you yourself have taught me. How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth!"

In the early 70's there was a PSA (Public Service Announcement) campaign entitled "Time for Timer".  These minute-long cartoons were played during Saturday morning cartoons and after school specials.  Timer was this nondescript yellow character that sang songs about healthy snacks, the wonders of cheese and the importance of eating right.  All of his PSA's started the exact same way, "It's time for timer..."

The one I remember most is "You Are What You Eat."  Timer moved through the digestive system to remind children everywhere that in order to be healthy and to grow up big and strong they must eat right.  After all, "you are what you eat". 

I am not sure how effective the campaign was.  I mean, nearly forty years later, I still eat garbage. However, I do remember the ad campaign.  I guess it depends on your definition of success.

In Eat This Book, author, speaker and pastor, Eugene Peterson encourages his readers to read the Bible as if they were eating it.  He says, the practice of "spiritual reading" (also known as lectio divina) is "reading that enters our souls as food enters our stomachs, spreads through our blood, and becomes holiness and love and wisdom" (p. 4).  This echoes what the psalmist says in the passage above.  The poet writes, "I have not departed from your laws, for you yourself have taught me. How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth!"  For the psalmist, the word of the Lord had become reading that enters the soul and transforms the life in the same way food enters the stomachs and transforms the body. 

Yes, reading Scripture can be difficult, but so can eating the right foods.  In the same way that we cannot expect an apple to be good for us simply because we like to think of apples or because we enjoy the way apples look or because we like they way an apple feels in our hands, we cannot expect the words of Scripture to be transformative simply because we like to think they are good or because we enjoy the way the words sound or because we like the way the book feels in our hands. It is important to engage the words.  We must allow them to enter into us.  Sometimes they may cause us indigestion.  However, the words of Scripture also have the power to transform us as they become a part of who we are.  After all, we are what we eat.

Happy eating during this season of Lent.

If you are struggling with where to start, try reading a Psalm a day.  If you would like to have something that goes with the season of Lent, try reading the book of John.  If you would like a little variety, try reading one of the lectionary texts of the day (to find these texts, check out this website http://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/).