Echo of a Song

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith.” Hebrews 12:1-2

In 1996, I traveled with several students from Second Presbyterian Church to Santa Fe, NM where we worked on a small community farm sponsored by the local Presbyterian Churches.  This farm, supported by volunteers, gave 100% of its produce to the homeless shelters in the area.  The trip was more than any of us could have expected or imagined.

While in Santa Fe, we stayed at Saint Catherine Indian School, a boarding school founded in 1887 to provide Native American youth with a quality education.  One afternoon on a quick return trip from the work site to the school, I had the opportunity to meet a Native American man who was walking across the campus.  His name was Bob Chavez.  He was the art teacher at the school. 

After some small talk, Mr. Chavez invited into a quaint gift shop where the school sold pens, pencils, shirts, postcards, posters and the like to raise extra morning to support the school.  Some of the cards and posters were adorned with pictures of the school or the beauty of the surrounding area.  Other cards were graced with beautiful southwestern art.  I inquired about the artwork which sparked this incredible story.

Bob, a Native American from the Conchiti Pueblo, told me that he served in World War II as a member of the New Mexico National Guard.  He and 1800 of his comrades were taken captive in Japan.  He survived four cruel years as a prisoner of war which included the brutal Bataan Death March that saw thousands of Filipino and American soldiers die.  Bob said that while he was in the prison camps, he made a promise to the Great Spirit that if he survived, he would devote himself to his school, St. Catherine's Indian School, where he was a member of the first graduating class in 1935. 

When he returned to New Mexico after the war, Bob made good on his promise.  For over 50 years, he volunteered his time and considerable talent introducing art and track and field to the school.  It was his artwork, produced in his simple art studio on St. Catherine’s campus that adorned the posters and postcards sold in the gift shop. 

Bob, whose Indian name given by his grandmother is Ow-u-te-wa, means “echo of a song.” Bob passed away in 2002, and his life and work were honored by all who knew him.  Manuel "Bob" Chavez has been and will continue to be the echo of God’s song of faith, grace and love to countless Native American boys and girls and one youth minister from Indianapolis, Indiana.

Your life is also an echo of this song of grace.  May others be blessed by its reverberations as they witness your life and give glory to God.  Allow your life to SING!

Cassie's Mess

Cassie, a rambunctious five-year-old, saw her daddy eating chocolate chip cookies in the living room.  She thought, “Daddy loves to dunk his cookies in milk.”  Seeing that her father had no milk, Cassie sprung into action.  She got a dining room chair and dragged it into the kitchen leaving some scratch marks on the floor.  Cassie positioned the chair just right and climbed from it onto the kitchen counter.  She pulled open the cabinet door with such force that it slammed into the wall with a terrific crash.  She reached for a glass, knocking two others to the floor sending shards of glass flying throughout the kitchen.  But Cassie didn’t care.  “I am getting some milk for my daddy,” she thought.

Meanwhile, Cassie’s daddy had come to the kitchen door beckoned by all of the commotion.  With hands on hips, he watched Cassie hard at work.  Cassie scurried down from the cabinet and over to the refrigerator.  She flung the door open wide.  She sat the glass on the floor and reached for the nearly full gallon of milk.  She opened the milk and struggled to pour it.  Some of the milk actually made it into the glass.  The rest of it splattered all over the floor.

Proud of her accomplishment, Cassie sat the jug of milk on the floor and picked up the glass.  “Daddy, daddy, I got something for you!”  Cassie shouted with joy as she ran in her socks across the kitchen floor only to slide across the floor and have the glass fall spilling its contents on the floor at her daddy’s feet. 

Cassie slowly picked herself up and looked around the room.  She saw all of the broken glass and spilled milk everywhere!  What a mess!  The cabinet and refrigerator doors were open and there was a huge puddle of milk on the living room carpet.  Then she saw her daddy standing in front of her with hands firmly on hips.  Cassie’s chin began to quiver and tears filled her eyes.  She looked up at her daddy with that expression on her face that implies, "I am so sorry. What is going to happen to me?"

Cassie’s daddy could only look at her.  He looked at Cassie, then the mess and…smiled.  Standing before him, he didn’t see a kid who had just made a huge mess of the house.  Instead he saw his child.  The little girl that he loved very much.  Cassie’s daddy knelt down to her level.  He scooped Cassie up in his loving arms, held her tightly against his chest and said, “That’s my girl!  Thank you, Cassie.”

And together they cleaned up the mess.

There you stand looking over messes you have made.  All of those broken pieces – the path that once held so much promise now lies in shards on the ground.  You stand there looking over the mess regretting both decisions and actions.  You stand there wondering what you must have been thinking in the first place.  You stand there with your chin quivering and that all too familiar look on your face.

Remember, you are a child of God.
NOTHING
...not the messes you've made or the mistaken steps you have taken
...not the lies you tell yourself or those others long for you to believe
...not the challenges you face or the sin you own
NOTHING CAN CHANGE THE FACT THAT YOU ARE A CHILD OF GOD! Live into your core identity as a dearly loved child of God.

Boxes

Life is safer when we keep God in a box. There are many reasons to place God in such a carefully created container. The box can help us have a construct by which we can understand who God is. The box can help us build a practical life of faith. The box can also help us understand who we are in relationship to such a God who we place in the box.

Life is safer when we keep God in a box. Nothing can get lost. Nothing can get broken. Nothing can escape. Nothing can get in. Nothing can be threatened. Life is safer in boxes.

There is nothing inherently wrong with the box we construct to contain God. As was said above, these boxes can indeed prove to be helpful. However, God has a nasty habit of working outside the walls that we have constructed. When this happens, we have a problem. We must either ignore God's activity, deny that it is God who is working or do the difficult work of figuring out how this new discovery works with our previous understanding of God. When the walls of our box are rigid, impermeable and impenetrable this inegrative work cannot be done, and we run the risk of allowing the box we have constructed to become an idol in and of itself.

Therefore, even though it is safer to keep God in a box (and we all do), the walls of the box must be pliable, permeable and penetrable. The prophet Isaiah writes, "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts" (Isaiah 55:8-9, NRSV). There is no way to contain the divine or what God might be doing or about to do.

The questions are...
How BIG are we willing to allow our understanding of God to be?
Can we contruct our boxes with walls that are pliable, permeable and penetrable?

God is more...

The Table

Sunday, October 2 was world communion Sunday. 

Christians all around the world celebrated this sacrament as they gathered in cathedrals, store fronts, homes, massive modern buildings and small colonial edifices.

We broke the bread as congregationalists, Presbyterians, non-denominationalists, Methodists, Baptists, Greek Orthodox, Disciples and Catholics.

The cup was lifted before the rich, the poor, the middle class, the hungry, the hurting, the well, the diseased, the estranged, the outcast, the downtrodden and the recently diagnosed.

The invitation to the Lord's table was given and received by people representing nearly every nation and people possessing every hue of melanin. 

What drew us together?

The Christ. 

We were all welcomed to the table because of and through the work of Jesus, the Christ. 

At that table, we celebrated God's redeeming activity in our lives and in our world.

At that table, we looked forward to God's unending work in the world and our charge to partner in that work. 

At that table, we were called to begin again and to forgive as we have been forgiven.

At that table, we were transformed more into the likeness of the one who welcomed us to the table.

The Christ.

Remember, at the center of our faith is Jesus, the Christ. Jesus calls all to come and follow. 

Regardless of the state in which we find ourselves at this very moment, Jesus calls. 

Regardless of the struggles present in our lives and the doubts with which we live, Jesus calls.

Regardless of our past and our present, Jesus calls.

We have been invited to come to the table where we can find renewal, forgiveness, sustenance, and hope.

You have been invited.

Come to the table.