Considering the Unexpected, in a Graveyard, in the Dark.

Do you like surprises?

Scary movies?

How do you deal with the unexpected?

For me, I’d rather follow the Scouting motto and, “Be Prepared” than face anything that might disrupt my day.

What if I asked you these questions while we were walking in a graveyard in the early morning before dawn? Would your responses change?

When I was a pastor I recall a graveside service I was leading on October 31st. It was early afternoon, but standing next to an open grave on that Halloween day did cause me to pause for thought. I definitely wouldn’t have liked a “surprise” of any sort on that day.

In general, when unexpected surprises in scary places come my way I respond with fear.

In Matthew 28:1-10 we read the same reaction from those at the tomb of Jesus.

After the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb.

2 There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it. 3 His appearance was like lightning, and his clothes were white as snow. 4 The guards were so afraid of him that they shook and became like dead men.

5 The angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. 6 He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. 7 Then go quickly and tell his disciples: ‘He has risen from the dead and is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him.’ Now I have told you.”

8 So the women hurried away from the tomb, afraid yet filled with joy, and ran to tell his disciples. 9 Suddenly Jesus met them. “Greetings,” he said. They came to him, clasped his feet and worshiped him. 10 Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid. Go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.”

When we read this story in our day it’s easy to think, “Why were the women so afraid? They knew Jesus was going to rise from the dead.” But did they? We have the benefit of knowing the full story. To get a “feel” for the situation we need to recapture the utter astonishment these women felt. If we try and put ourselves in their shoes, we can feel a bit of their experience.

The truth of our human experience is we live in the moment. We can look back and make forecasts, but we really don’t know what is happening next. We try and figure it out and make plans based on predictions, and for the most part that works pretty well. For example, right now it’s raining outside. It was raining while I drove to work and the weather report for today says it will shower all day. I won’t be fearful of the rain or if a thunderstorm appears, I’m expecting it. In fact, to see sunshine today would be unexpected. I’m living today based on this prediction.

The resurrection of Jesus is a central proclamation of the early church. And looking back in time as we get to, we can miss the awe and wonder that it brings. I like to think if I were there I wouldn’t be afraid but would have walked boldly up to Jesus given him a high five and said, “Welcome back.” However if I’m honest, I know I would have been just as afraid as those who were there that day.

However, notice there is also a different emotion present. Joy. In verse 9 the women hurried away afraid, yet filled with joy.

I love it that in the midst of the unexpected, there was a profound sense of joy that Jesus was alive.

This Easter, try and put yourself in the shoes of those first responders. Allow yourself to feel the fear of a graveyard in the dark and seeing things you don’t expect to see. And because of the fear, then allow yourself to experience the tremendous joy of discovering that Jesus is there and he is alive.

Wandering "Okies" today

I recently finished The Grapes of Wrath, one of the most difficult-to-read novels I've picked up in a long time. For me, it was a difficult book, not due to the grammar, although the way Steinbeck quotes the "English" spoken in that time is very hard to comprehend, but because I had a very personal connection with the story. In many ways the difficult journey of the Joads' was also my grandparent’s story.

With fear that my High School English teacher will see this, I admit that this was the first time I had read this classic novel. And as I read about the Dust Bowl from Steinbeck's perspective I was shocked by the amount of total devastation in that region; as well as the ways the sharecropping farmers were kicked off their land to make way for "progress." The description of the automobile drive west and the family’s hopes of a new and blessed life in California was painful to read. The terrible treatment of the "Okies" by the Californians was also appalling.

But why was it painful for me? I've read hard luck stories before; this time it was different. This time this was ‘my’ story. My mother’s family moved out from Oklahoma in the '30's, not due to the Dust Bowl but due to my grandpa's ill health. He had tuberculosis and needed to move to a drier climate. Unfortunately they picked a terrible time to move, when the ‘Joads’ and others were also on the road and seeking work in California.

As a result of reading this novel, I now have an image of my sweet, tiny grandma picking fruit, cotton, and working long hours in a cannery or the walnut house. I discovered my grandparents lived with their seven children in a two-room "house," which was actually a converted chicken coop, for nine years! My mom was the only one of the kids born in California.

Their dreams in migrating were for a better life. As I think about my family, for many of us the dream has come true. All of us are better off than my grandparents.

The dream was fulfilled, just not for the first generation.

Stories of refugees are common in our world today. Numerous people are moving from their homes to try and find a better life someplace else. Like the Joads, though, people don’t just move unless they are forced to by dire circumstances. Last June I was in Turkey about 20 miles from Aleppo, a city on the front pages of the news at the moment. While there, the group of students I was leading was able to meet with a number of Syrian refugees living in that region. We were treated to immense hospitality by these people who had fled their homes due to fighting; none of them wanted to leave, but were forced to due to outside circumstances. As I read how the Joads' maintained their humanity, even in the face of extreme dehumanization from the Californians, I was reminded of the beautiful Syrians we met in June.

As I write this, the city of Aleppo has been retaken by government forces. At the same time, a 7 year old girl in Aleppo has been tweeting her story- Bana Alabed escapes East Aleppo

Although not connected with the rebels, her home has been destroyed by government forces. Like the Joads', will her family make the move to a neighboring country to find a better life? (The link above shares how this family has been relocated to Turkey)

We’re currently in the season of Christmas, a time when Christians reflect on the birth narrative of Jesus. One of the interesting parts of Jesus story is the flight to Egypt shortly after the Magi leave. Jesus was a refugee. What if Egypt had closed their borders to immigrants and migrants? If Mary and Joseph had returned, would Jesus have been killed?

New Drawing "The Holy Family". Original and Prints are available!https://t.co/5x6SGmZ7DE pic.twitter.com/cInYVAjM0v

— David Hayward (@nakedpastor) December 15, 2016

Matthew 2:13-15a:

13 After the wise men were gone, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream. “Get up! Flee to Egypt with the child and his mother,” the angel said. “Stay there until I tell you to return, because Herod is going to search for the child to kill him.”

14 That night Joseph left for Egypt with the child and Mary, his mother, 15 and they stayed there until Herod’s death.

Knowing my families story makes me much more sympathetic to the plight of those who experience loss and hardship right now. Knowing Syrian people who have fled, hearing their stories and their desire to return home, and knowing Jesus and his family experienced the same trauma and hardships makes me long for a world where peace is seen. What can I do? How do I keep from becoming one of the oppressors? If we stop to think about it for just a few minutes, the story of migration is the story of almost all Americans. At some point our ancestors were in the same circumstances as the fictitious Joads and the very real Syrians like Bana.

I invite you to join me in one way to respond, by giving to the Mennonite relief agency MCC: https://mcc.org/learn/more/syria-iraq-crisis-response

The sad death of Christmas Cards

Here we are in an old Christmas card photo

Has the giving of Christmas cards died a quick and sad death?

I awoke with the song “White Christmas” playing in my head the other morning. One line kept repeating over and over, “I’m dreaming of a white Christmas, with every Christmas card I write.” As this line kept looping I thought about how far from reality this seems. I admit that my wife and I no longer send Christmas cards and the majority of our friends don’t either.

I’ve also had a question rattling around in my thoughts, “How can I find ways to fully live the hope and expectation of the season of Advent, rather than stress and ‘Christmas’ for 30 days prior to the actual Christmas day.

These two random thoughts collided and I was left with a bigger question, “In previous generations, were writing and addressing Christmas cards one of the spiritual acts of Advent?”

As I understand it, Advent is a season of preparation, of spiritual and moral self-reflection in anticipation of entering the Christmas event. Christmas day is the culmination of that self-reflection capped off by the 12 days of Christmas. It seems to me this has completely flip-flopped. Christmas begins at the end of October and the entire season is a race up to the finish line- Chrismas day. I wonder if in the past taking the time to write and address a stack of cards helped slow down the pace and provide an opportunity to reflect on the season, rather than race through it.

Growing up, I remember receiving cards from family and friends and as a child I remember especially loving the ones that came with a photo of the senders family. Most of the time I knew the people in the image and sometimes I’d ask my parents who the people were. Other times the cards would have beautiful scenes and encouraging words on them. If we were lucky, they even had a check or a dollar or two for us kids.

Fast forward a bit to when my children were small, Christmas cards still were sent and received. As a family we added a “twist,” we place all the cards we got in a basket on the dining table and would  pray for the family from one card each night.

Nowadays, we only receive a handful of cards each year. More and more of my friends post a Christmas photo on their Facebook page and wish their followers Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays. Facebook has killed Christmas cards. Time to write an obituary I suppose.

Thinking about how Facebook has replaced Christmas cards gave me an idea of a spiritual practice to recapture the slowness and mindfulness of addressing numerous cards. I decided to go through my Facebook “friends” list  and pray a prayer of blessing over each one. I sat last Saturday morning with this list and if you’re one of my friends I prayed for you.

Here’s what I prayed:

Numbers 6:24-26

24 The Lord bless you

   and keep you;

25 the Lord make his face shine on you

   and be gracious to you;

26 the Lord turn his face toward you

   and give you peace.

May you experience peace and blessing this Christmas season. And if you’re not sending cards, I invite you to the practice of passing on the prayer and blessing to your Facebook, and wider, friends.

Here’s the version of “White Christmas” I had playing in my head that day. I had this album on cassette back in the 90’s and wore it out playing it in the minivan with my kids.

"Behold" = time to pay attention

Luke 2:10:

10 But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people;

I’ve always loved the part of the Christmas story where the vast host of angels show up. There’s something about the way a calm and “normal” night was disrupted by the heavenly visitors that intrigues me. I imagine what it would have been like for the poor shepherds, minding their own business when the sky lit up. Talk about shocking. If it were me, I would have run.

Even more specific than the appearance of the angels, I’ve been drawn in this story to the angel of the LORD’s initial greeting, “Do not be afraid; for behold...” In more modern translations the word “behold” is not included. However, I believe this word is key to the story.

I have a friend named Dave. When we were younger, we both were volunteers in the same youth ministry. One year we were running a fall carnival with games, bounce houses and a wagon ride complete with hay bales to sit on. Dave, in an attempt at humor, stood by the hay ride all night shouting to any passerby, “HEY!” When they looked at him, he would point to the hay bale and laugh. Like Dave, Luke is drawing the reader and  grabbing his or her attention. “Behold” means “look” or “hey!” and there is a sense of urgency behind this word. The person speaking wants his or her hearers to pay attention.

And in this use in Luke’s gospel what was there to ‘behold?’ For the shepherds, the announcement is a sign of good news, of joy, a baby and messiah come to earth.

I was curious, were there other instances in the Bible where the word “behold” is used referring to the Messiah? I found two places which I believe serve as bookends for Jesus’ story. If this ‘behold’ in Luke is the central proclamation, the other two are no less significant.

The first is in Isaiah 42:1-4:

“Behold, My Servant, whom I uphold;

My chosen one in whom My soul delights.

I have put My Spirit upon Him;

He will bring forth justice to the nations.

2 “He will not cry out or raise His voice,

Nor make His voice heard in the street.

3 “A bruised reed He will not break

And a dimly burning wick He will not extinguish;

He will faithfully bring forth justice.

4 “He will not be disheartened or crushed

Until He has established justice in the earth;

And the coastlands will wait expectantly for His law.”

The first thing that hits me about this “Behold” is the picture of a Servant who looks a lot like Jesus: delighted in by God, full of the Spirit, and gentle in word and deed. His primary mission is bringing justice, a word used three times in this passage. We sometimes read this word through a North American legal lens, but the Hebrew perspective of justice is producing honorable relationships, bringing peace - shalom- to individuals and the nations. Most scholars would equate this Servant with Jesus.

The other bookend “behold” comes at the end of Jesus’ life from the mouth of Pontius Pilate in John 19:5: “Jesus then came out, wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe. Pilate said to them, ‘Behold, the Man!’”

In each instance, the voice inviting the hearers to “behold” is not the person himself, but rather someone else inviting people to pay attention. Unlike the other two instances, here the “behold” points to a prisoner, and yet this is not dissimilar from the servant seen in Isaiah. Behold- here is one who came to sacrifice all to generate justice to the nations.

As we enter into the Christmas season and hear or see the word “Behold” in readings, carols, or greeting cards, may we pay attention and see the bigger picture:

A Servant bringing justice

A Savior and messiah

A Sacrifice for the nations

Hope for the Journey

Psalm 39:4-7 New Living Translation (NLT)

4 “Lord, remind me how brief my time on earth will be.

   Remind me that my days are numbered—

   how fleeting my life is.

5 You have made my life no longer than the width of my hand.

   My entire lifetime is just a moment to you;

   at best, each of us is but a breath.” Interlude

6 We are merely moving shadows,

   and all our busy rushing ends in nothing.

We heap up wealth,

   not knowing who will spend it.

7 And so, Lord, where do I put my hope?

   My only hope is in you.

This passage “jumped out” at me this morning when I came to it as part of a daily reading plan. I had already been thinking about the brevity of life after a conversation this week with a friend who had recently lost a parent.

I spent almost four years as a pastor of an older, established congregation. This congregation had a significant number of older people, and during my time there I participated in more funerals than I can count. One personal take-away for me during this time was a constant reminder that I needed to count my days and realize that each day, each moment, was important.

Why this reflection as part of a devotional for Tabor College? Shifting the focus a bit from the end of life to pursuing studies; like our students, I also completed a degree while working full-time, juggling family life, and constant studying. I know how easy it can be to focus exclusively on the end goal. “Just get it done” can become all one lives for during this time.

And this is important; focus toward the end goal is critical. But sometimes I think it’s just as important, just like a driver who momentarily looks down at the instrument panel to gage speed, temperature, and to check the gas; that during an intense period in life it’s important to look down, and evaluate the brevity of life and to take some time to stop and celebrate. Go to the movies, play with our children, read a (fun) book on the back deck.

After listing what could be seen as a bunch of negatives, the Psalmist reiterates that his hope is ultimately in God alone.

May we be people who hope in God. Who look toward the goal, but also glance down and see the good gifts all around us.

How do you smell?

At the same seminar where we discussed not weighing a chicken (see last week’s blog post), we also talked about how we “smell” to others.

During the seminar one of the participants, a North American, shared about a time when he was in Africa as part of an international group, on a 3 hour drive, sharing a small, packed, windows that didn’t open, non air-conditioned minivan. For this person, the strong smell of body odor in the van was almost unbearable.  However later, when the storyteller was talking with a fellow passenger, the fellow passenger stated, “It was so difficult for me to sit next to you on that trip, the smell of the cologne you had on was unbearable.”

For those of us from North America, we work hard each day to make sure we smell good when we leave the house for work. I have a 15 year old son who thinks it’s appropriate to use a half a can of body spray every time he passes his bathroom (ok, maybe not half a can, but you get the picture). We can smell him coming before we see him most times.

Thinking of how we “smell” reminded me of the Apostle Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 2:14b-16a.

Now he uses us to spread the knowledge of Christ everywhere, like a sweet perfume. 15 Our lives are a Christ-like fragrance rising up to God. But this fragrance is perceived differently by those who are being saved and by those who are perishing. 16 To those who are perishing, we are a dreadful smell of death and doom. But to those who are being saved, we are a life-giving perfume.

I really like this text even though it troubles me too. I like the idea that believers in Jesus bring not only words and deeds but also a “smell” when interacting with others. I hope and pray that the smell I bring will be one that is easily recognized as a sweet, life-giving perfume.

At the same time the passage troubles me because I know from college biology classes that sometimes a flower or substance needs to be broken and crushed in order to release a smell. I don’t know about you but I don’t like that possibility; like most of us, I want an easy life. But if we were to read further in the book of 2 Corinthians one would see that for Paul, suffering, beatings, and persecution was not the exception, but the norm. Could this be why he “smelled” so good?

The text is also clear that we can’t control how people respond to our smell. For some, it’s life-giving and sweet. For others, it’s the smell of death and doom. I was thinking about Paul’s historical context a bit this week. Imagine the scene with Caesar conquering a country. A victory parade is given using flowers, incense, etc. For those who welcomed the conqueror, the parade would be a joyful time, but for those enemies who had fought against him, the parade coming down the street may smell completely different, instead it is the smell of an upcoming execution.

We can’t control how people respond, but we can control how the “smell” reaches them. We can treat each person as unique, loved, and special. A number of years ago, Tony Campolo wrote a book titled, Following Jesus without Embarrassing God. Campolo’s basic premise is: if we’re honest, we Christians sometimes behave in ways which must make God look ridiculous to those outside the faith. If the book were being re-written today it might be re-titled: “How do you smell?”

May we be people who bring the perfume of life into every situation we encounter.