When I was about seven years old my mother signed me up for swimming lessons at the municipal pool. I remember well how cold the unheated water felt at 7:30 AM. I remember what seemed so simple for others was so difficult for me. But, what I really remember is the day we had to climb up the slide and were told by the teachers to slide down into the blue waters below. The scene this little boy made while perched atop that slide was not pretty. I was holding up the line as I sat there trying to decide whether or not to let go and enjoy the ride.
Tonight I am in the final stages of packing things for a two-week trip to India. I will be a member of a twelve-person delegation composed of United Church of Christ Conference Ministers and members of the United Church of Christ's Wider Church Ministries Board. This is the 200th Anniversary year of the founding of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions (ABCFM). This trip is one of several that have happened during the anniversary year. We will be visiting sites in Delhi, Agra, Mungeli, Chennai, Madurai, Kanyakurmari, Colachei, and Mumbai. I am traveling with trusted friends.
This is, for me, the adventure of a lifetime. Who would have thought that a parochial country kid from the hills of Missouri would be invited to travel to a land with so rich a mission heritage? I remember how the missionaries would come to our little congregation to tell of their work in far-off lands. "Mission Feast" was a big annual celebration in the church of my youth. Now, I am going to see and experience the places where our mission partners are engaged in their ministries: schools, hospitals, a seminary, a vocational training program for unemployed youth, tsunami rehabilitation and housing projects, diocesan offices, and more. Yes, the adventure of a lifetime starts on Tuesday morning at 4:30 AM when my travels begin.
But somehow, I cannot get the memory of that little boy, perched atop the slide at the municipal swimming pool out of my head tonight. Learning something new, experiencing life, celebrating ministry, requires letting go. The bags are packed. Ministry in New Hampshire must, for a time, be left far behind. My family has been encouraging. I'm ready!
(Our group will be blogging from India. I'll let you know where to find that blog once I have that address.)
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Monday, November 21, 2011
Your Holy One
I take great comfort and delight in the oracles found in Isaiah 40-55, the section commonly called, "Second Isaiah." Here is the assurance of salvation, deliverance, and homecoming for a people who have been held captive in a foreign place for a long, long time.
Lately, as I am reading these texts, I have been reassured by the self-revelation of the God who appears in them. The promise of deliverance and God's activity for every exile is a source of hope. But it is the identity of God, who is revealed before and after these great empowering promises, that is a source of great joy. I delight in this God!
Here's but one example of my meditation. It is from Isaiah 43:14-15.
Thus says the LORD,
your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel:
For your sake I will send to Babylon
and break down all the bars,
and the shouting of the Chaldeans will be turned to lamentation.
I am the Lord, your Holy One,
the Creator of Israel, your King.
--New Revised Standard Version
The breaking down of all the bars and barriers that keep us caged--God's action that turns captors' taunting jubilation to grieving lamentation--this activity is framed by the revelation of God. The Lord is "your Redeemer," "the Holy One of Israel" . . . . "your Holy One," "the Creator of Israel," "your King." These are not honorific titles, granted without historical grounding. These titles reveal a God who is high and exalted. They also reveal that God is engaged in creative and redemptive activity. This God knows about Babylon and can get there, too. This God is sovereign and saving.
Reading literally, and taking this revelation to heart, I wonder about the move from "the Holy One of Israel" to "your Holy One." Captive people of God, this is your Holy One. Weary pastors of the church, this is your Holy One. Grieving mothers and fathers, this is your Holy One. It is a movement that brings God close to us in our own places of exile. It is a move that brings the gift of resilient joy.
A Prayer for This Day
O Holy One, send for me today. Draw me to your hope. Free me by your love. Carry me home. Amen.
Lately, as I am reading these texts, I have been reassured by the self-revelation of the God who appears in them. The promise of deliverance and God's activity for every exile is a source of hope. But it is the identity of God, who is revealed before and after these great empowering promises, that is a source of great joy. I delight in this God!
Here's but one example of my meditation. It is from Isaiah 43:14-15.
Thus says the LORD,
your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel:
For your sake I will send to Babylon
and break down all the bars,
and the shouting of the Chaldeans will be turned to lamentation.
I am the Lord, your Holy One,
the Creator of Israel, your King.
--New Revised Standard Version
The breaking down of all the bars and barriers that keep us caged--God's action that turns captors' taunting jubilation to grieving lamentation--this activity is framed by the revelation of God. The Lord is "your Redeemer," "the Holy One of Israel" . . . . "your Holy One," "the Creator of Israel," "your King." These are not honorific titles, granted without historical grounding. These titles reveal a God who is high and exalted. They also reveal that God is engaged in creative and redemptive activity. This God knows about Babylon and can get there, too. This God is sovereign and saving.
Reading literally, and taking this revelation to heart, I wonder about the move from "the Holy One of Israel" to "your Holy One." Captive people of God, this is your Holy One. Weary pastors of the church, this is your Holy One. Grieving mothers and fathers, this is your Holy One. It is a movement that brings God close to us in our own places of exile. It is a move that brings the gift of resilient joy.
A Prayer for This Day
O Holy One, send for me today. Draw me to your hope. Free me by your love. Carry me home. Amen.
Friday, November 11, 2011
A Prayer for Our Community
This prayer was offered as an invocation at the 15th Annual Mayor's Community Prayer Breakfast on Thursday. It was an honor to be invited to be part of that gathering and to witness the commitment that so many buisness, political, and religous leaders share to help Concord become a welcoming, compassionate city. --gms
Gathering God,
who calls us to live and work together in this community,
our hearts exclaim with the song writer in the scriptures:
“How very good and pleasant it is
when kindred live together in unity!”*
You bring us together.
You call us to a common purpose:
to build up the city,
to restore its broken places:
to be a beacon of refuge and hope,
to teach our children to dream big, bold dreams,
to respect the wisdom of our elders,
to lift up those who have fallen, to feed the hungry,
to shelter the homeless poor—
indeed, to build a community where all may live.
This day is your gift. May we receive it with great joy and gladness. Give us the courage to work together for that which is good. Strengthen us to love every neighbor, so that others may also say:
“How very good and pleasant it is
when kindred live together in unity!”
O God, we know there are many other tables to which you must attend this morning; but we ask now that you share your Spirit with us. Be present with us. May the breakfast we are about to receive be a sign of your amazing care. Bless this meal and all those who have worked to prepare it—from the fields to the markets to these tables—and bless us, O God, to your service in the world.
With grateful and joyful hearts we offer our prayer.
gAmenh
Monday, November 7, 2011
Being Here
I cannot say what caused the feeling. Perhaps it was something that the pastor said in her greeting. Perhaps it was the warm sunshine streaming through the sanctuary window. Perhaps it was an extra hour of sleep as Daylight Savings Time ended. I cannot say precisely what happened, but my spirit settled.
"This is the day that the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it." This is the place. This is the time. This is the opportunity that I have to be present with God and with others. It is good to receive the gift of the present and to live in it.
So often I have been caught between remembering the past and anticipating the future. I have been preoccupied with memories of people and places long gone. I have imagined a future which may never be as I have constructed it in my mind. The present is the gift that God gives us all today.
Eternal God, help us to make the most of this day. Teach us to really see the people who share life with us now. Help us to be where you are--help us to be here. May it be so! Amen.
"This is the day that the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it." This is the place. This is the time. This is the opportunity that I have to be present with God and with others. It is good to receive the gift of the present and to live in it.
So often I have been caught between remembering the past and anticipating the future. I have been preoccupied with memories of people and places long gone. I have imagined a future which may never be as I have constructed it in my mind. The present is the gift that God gives us all today.
Eternal God, help us to make the most of this day. Teach us to really see the people who share life with us now. Help us to be where you are--help us to be here. May it be so! Amen.
Monday, October 31, 2011
So Who Is My Neighbor?
Perhaps it is that I am preaching about our neighbors this week that prompted greater sensitivity on Friday as I flew from Midway to Manchester. I way paying attention as people boarded the plane after I had taken my seat. I sat by a window, near the back galley, reading a book about India in preparation for my upcoming trip, when the flight attendant asked for someone to move. My preferred airline does not have assigned seats, so the center spots are the last to go. Some center seats were open when a man with his five-and-a-half year old son boarded. They made their way all the way to the back, but found no seats where they could sit together. So, the crew called for someone who would move--promising extra peanuts and some imaginary awards. At first, no one budged. We liked where we were sitting. After about a minute, which must have seemed an eternity to the man and his little boy, a woman in the row in front of me said, "I'll switch." The little family took the two adjacent seats, while the woman moved herself and her over-sized duffel bag into the middle seat next to me.
The plane took off. Everyone broke out a book and began to read. It was only as the plane landed in Manchester that a conversation occurred. The woman was on her way to Connecticut for her 47th high school class reunion. (The organizer had decided not to wait for the 50th year reunion because too many classmates were dying!) The woman was from Missouri now, having grown up in New England many years ago. She spoke of her little farm, where she had horses. I mentioned that I was originally from Missouri--California, Missouri most recently. The woman replied that she always liked that area and had purchased two Peruvian horses from a man there. Immediately, I realized that she was talking about Will, my former neighbor who raised the only Peruvian horses in the area. The horses often came up to our back fence to visit. I was reminded of the time when Will kept our little cattle herd secure when they broke through the rotten woven wire fence. The week of building a new fence with Will was a good one for me. The woman and I talked about Will and his wife, Barbara, for some moments. The world got a whole lot smaller.
When I got off the plane, there in the boarding area was John, a former search committee chairperson, with whom I had worked as his congregation had searched for a new pastor. We recognized one another right away. John and I exchanged greetings, and we blessed one another on our way. The world got a whole lot smaller.
Who is my neighbor? The ones who risk a conversation that makes a connection. The world gets a whole lot smaller when we take that initial step to acknowledge and speak to our neighbors. Sometimes there is a cost in such encounters (Luke 10:25ff); but often such connections simply make the world smaller . . . and we are all blessed on our way.
The plane took off. Everyone broke out a book and began to read. It was only as the plane landed in Manchester that a conversation occurred. The woman was on her way to Connecticut for her 47th high school class reunion. (The organizer had decided not to wait for the 50th year reunion because too many classmates were dying!) The woman was from Missouri now, having grown up in New England many years ago. She spoke of her little farm, where she had horses. I mentioned that I was originally from Missouri--California, Missouri most recently. The woman replied that she always liked that area and had purchased two Peruvian horses from a man there. Immediately, I realized that she was talking about Will, my former neighbor who raised the only Peruvian horses in the area. The horses often came up to our back fence to visit. I was reminded of the time when Will kept our little cattle herd secure when they broke through the rotten woven wire fence. The week of building a new fence with Will was a good one for me. The woman and I talked about Will and his wife, Barbara, for some moments. The world got a whole lot smaller.
When I got off the plane, there in the boarding area was John, a former search committee chairperson, with whom I had worked as his congregation had searched for a new pastor. We recognized one another right away. John and I exchanged greetings, and we blessed one another on our way. The world got a whole lot smaller.
Who is my neighbor? The ones who risk a conversation that makes a connection. The world gets a whole lot smaller when we take that initial step to acknowledge and speak to our neighbors. Sometimes there is a cost in such encounters (Luke 10:25ff); but often such connections simply make the world smaller . . . and we are all blessed on our way.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Homecoming
The announcement on Friday by President Barack Obama that all US troops will come home from Iraq by December 31 is welcome news. Begun on March 20, 2003, this has been an exceedingly long US war, second only to the war in Afghanistan. Consider this: our 10-year-old children have never known a day when the United States was not fighting a war. What effect this continuous decade of intense international conflict and death will have on our national psyche is not yet clear. The toll on families and our national budget is already abundantly clear. It is time for homecoming as our fathers and mothers, daughters and sons, grandchildren, friends and neighbors return.
It is important that this homecoming be marked with celebration and many prayers. Many are returning with scars and wounds that are visible and invisible. We must honor their service and their sacrifice. Many will not be returning; 4,479 US soldiers have died in this war. Amid the joy, we sense the deep sorrow that still surrounds us all. This war has also brought pain, suffering, and death to friends and foes in Iraq and to those nations who have joined as our allies in the fight. It is time to end this war; it is time for the homecoming.
Some might ask anxious questions in light of this news: Are we leaving Iraq too soon? Should we not keep some military presence there? What if the "liberation" does not last? What if our enemies suddenly reassert themselves? Will diplomacy ensure a peaceful future for the Iraqi people and for us? There are so many questions and so many politicians and commentators who are giving voice to the anxiety that is associated with this ending and its homecoming. Yet, it is clear that it is time for our involvement in this war to end. It is time too--high time--for a similar ending in Afghanistan.
My homecoming prayer is that of the ancient Hebrew prophets--Isaiah and Micah. I pray for the day when
[God] shall judge between the nations,
and shall arbitrate for many peoples;
they shall beat their swords into plowshares,
and their spears into pruning hooks;
nation shall not lift up sword against nation,
neither shall they learn war any more."
--Isaiah 2:4, New Revised Standard Version
It is important that this homecoming be marked with celebration and many prayers. Many are returning with scars and wounds that are visible and invisible. We must honor their service and their sacrifice. Many will not be returning; 4,479 US soldiers have died in this war. Amid the joy, we sense the deep sorrow that still surrounds us all. This war has also brought pain, suffering, and death to friends and foes in Iraq and to those nations who have joined as our allies in the fight. It is time to end this war; it is time for the homecoming.
Some might ask anxious questions in light of this news: Are we leaving Iraq too soon? Should we not keep some military presence there? What if the "liberation" does not last? What if our enemies suddenly reassert themselves? Will diplomacy ensure a peaceful future for the Iraqi people and for us? There are so many questions and so many politicians and commentators who are giving voice to the anxiety that is associated with this ending and its homecoming. Yet, it is clear that it is time for our involvement in this war to end. It is time too--high time--for a similar ending in Afghanistan.
My homecoming prayer is that of the ancient Hebrew prophets--Isaiah and Micah. I pray for the day when
[God] shall judge between the nations,
and shall arbitrate for many peoples;
they shall beat their swords into plowshares,
and their spears into pruning hooks;
nation shall not lift up sword against nation,
neither shall they learn war any more."
--Isaiah 2:4, New Revised Standard Version
May it be so!
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Blessed on Our Way
We have a simple ritual at our house that gives life special meaning. Each morning at 6:40 AM when the school bus comes to pick up Matt for his day at school, we stand in the doorway and wave as the bus pulls away and drives down the street. Although we cannot see through the tinted windows, we wave until the bus disappears around the corner. We bless our son on his way at the beginning of the day.
That simple gesture has become the norm for us. Matt often rushes to the front door as I leave home to meet with a church committee in some distant place. Even though he was watching a movie or playing a video game seemingly unaware of my exit, there he stands waving from the open doorway as I back out of the garage, drive down the street, and disappear around the corner. That wave means so much. I know and remember that I have been blessed on my way by one who loves me.
Perhaps it stretches the image too much, but I like to think that the benediction is our special gesture as a community of faith. The pastor or priest gives a blessing to people to encourage them on their way. An open hand is raised in a sign of grace and peace as Christ's congregation scatters into the world.
My prayer is that you will be blessed by those who love you. Indeed, may everyone be blessed and encouraged on their way. What a different world it would be!
That simple gesture has become the norm for us. Matt often rushes to the front door as I leave home to meet with a church committee in some distant place. Even though he was watching a movie or playing a video game seemingly unaware of my exit, there he stands waving from the open doorway as I back out of the garage, drive down the street, and disappear around the corner. That wave means so much. I know and remember that I have been blessed on my way by one who loves me.
Perhaps it stretches the image too much, but I like to think that the benediction is our special gesture as a community of faith. The pastor or priest gives a blessing to people to encourage them on their way. An open hand is raised in a sign of grace and peace as Christ's congregation scatters into the world.
My prayer is that you will be blessed by those who love you. Indeed, may everyone be blessed and encouraged on their way. What a different world it would be!
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