Remembering Albert

On Tuesday, I got one of those phone calls that come when we least expect it and take us back to another time.  The news was that Albert had died that very day.  I had lost track of him nearly twenty years ago, but I always remembered . . . . 

Albert was my mechanic, but he first sent me down the road to another garage.  He looked me over and sent me packing.  He did not have time to work on my car.  Albert was notoriously independent.  One did not hurry him.  Later, when I learned to say, "If you have time, would you check . . ." and he always had the time--lots of time to work and to visit.

Albert was not a church-going person--although I believe he was baptized and probably had been confirmed in the very church that I was serving.  I suspect it was all more important to him that he would admit to anyone else.  Things went deep with Albert.  He always came to funerals for family and long-time friends.  He asked me to do the funeral service for his mother many years ago, and I did.  It was an honor to be asked.

I remember how Albert cared for his wife, Maxine.   It was especially evident as he supported her when her memory faded away.  Albert worked on cars in his shop while keeping an eye focused on whatever Maxine might be doing in the house.  It was not easy, but really loving someone seldom is.

On Tuesday evening, when the news came that Albert had died, I remembered what he said when I stopped by the garage for a final time in the summer of 1993.  I went to tell him that I was moving away. Albert responded with but one sentence: "I thought you'd be here forever."  It was not that I had worn out my welcome with him; but his voice revealed, if but for a moment, a feeling of sadness.  Forever.  That's a commitment we simply cannot make and certainly cannot keep.  Forever rests in the hands and heart of Another One--the one who creates, loves, and keeps us.  Forever is always about God.

Today, Albert's funeral is happening.  My heart is there.  My prayers are focused on that distant place that had been my home and for a friend who has remained close in heart.  And, I find myself echoing back the worlds he spoke in 1993:  "Albert, I thought you would be here forever." 

Holy One,
now let your servant go in peace;
your word has been fulfilled:
my own eyes have see the salvation
which you have prepared in the sight of every people:
a light to reveal you to the nations
and the glory of your people Israel. 

Holy One, be merciful to us and bless us with life--eternal, glorious, forever!  Alleluia.  Amen.

I Wonder . . .

In the yard a magnolia tree prepares to bloom.  I always appreciate the color of spring flowers after the barren grayness of winter.  In a week or so, the tree will likely be in full bloom with petals exposed to the elements that would quickly destroy--wind and rain.  Then will come the raking of shriveled brown petals strewn all about beneath the tree.  The flowering time is so very short.  Yet, each spring the little tree goes through the cycle.  In a way, the rest of the year prepares for this one moment of brilliant color.

I have come to see that life is not about longevity or holding on--but trusting God to bring out the buds and the blossoms, to splash some color against the backdrop of grayness if but for a moment. Nothing is to be gained from clinging tightly to past memories of springtime's splendor. Now is the time for new blooming, for sharing joy, and celebrating life.

And so, I wonder . . . who needs to glimpse the Easter life, the Risen One, the beauty that is alive in you and in me today? 

I wonder . . . who needs a word of encouragement?

I wonder . . .

Do Not Fear . . . You Are Mine

Last week, the pressures of my call caught up with me in the middle of the night.  I was awakened by an intruder.  No, it was not a burglar or robber at 2:00 AM, but the intrusion of the troubles of the day that stirred me up in the night.  My dad used to say, "If you cannot sleep, you might as well get up and work."  I have considered that counsel and accepted it as my own. Some of you may have received notes from me in the night.

But last week was different.  I did not awaken from my slumber to work but to sit in chair downstairs in the dim living room and stress out.  I was panic-stricken, scared to death.  I felt a wave of insecurity crashing down over my head.  I was awash in self doubt and self pity.  "Woe is me!"

In the midst of the stress, I reached for my Bible and thought, "What is the one text that I would remember as my spiritual compass if all the other texts in this book gone?  What text--more than all the rest--would speak with clarity to my trouble?"  The answer was not long in coming:  Isaiah 43:1-7.  This is my text in the sleeplessness of the night.  This is my text for the trouble.  I hear God stillspeaking to my soul in this ancient oracle.

I am persuaded that Jesus found his courage to confront the powerful forces and paralyzing feelings as he moved through his ministry--and, especially, during the days of his Holy Week.  He found his courage to live and to die in the relationship he had with his Father.  I believe the Hebrew scriptures and the hymns of his faith made his heart brave in the midst of his terrible fear.  They kept his purpose and destiny ever before him.  He was faithful unto death, even death on a cross.

And so, I share my memorable passage with you as our Holy Week begins:

But now thus says the LORD,

     he who created you, O Jacob,

          he who formed you, O Israel:

Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;

     I have called you by name, you are mine.

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;

     and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;

when you walk through fire you shall not be burned,

     and the flame shall not consume you.

For I am the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.

I have Egypt as your ransom,

     Ethiopia and Seba in exchange for you.

Because you are precious in my sight,

     and honored, and I love you,

I give people in return for you,

     nations in exchange for your life.

Do not fear, for I am with you;

     I will bring your offspring from the east,

         and from the west I will gather you;

I will say to the north, "Give them up,"

     and to the south, "Do not withhold;

          bring my sons from far away

          and my daughters from the end of the earth--

     everyone who is called by my name,

          whom I created for my glory,

          whom I formed and made."

--New Revised Standard Version

When your night is long and your fears threaten to unnerve and destroy you, in every season of uncertainty, may you know that you are held and loved forever by the God who has created, formed and made you. 


In life, in death, in life beyond death,
    God is with us.
We are not alone.

    Thanks be to God.