Easter – Page 2 – Salvaged Faith

how can we laugh at a time like this?

Posted on April 27, 20111 Comment

I’m sitting at my computer, looking out the 24th floor window of my hotel in Des Moines. I am currently attending our annual School for Ministry and learning all sorts of neat things about capital campaigns and what kinds of fonts to use on worship slides. We’ve had some good practical teaching this year… with some good theological underpinings. It usually is. I’m glad Iowa does this!

Anywho… here I sit, looking out the window at 12:26am at the quiet streets below. I’m still up because I’m trying to plan worship for Sunday so that I can send my organist the hymns. I’m exhausted. Both from Holy Week and now these days of sitting in a conference room with no windows for hours upon hours. I do not want to preach. I have two funerals ahead of me in the days to come. And someone mentions “Holy Humor Sunday.”

I’ve heard of Holy Humor Sunday… but never actually done one. It’s this tradition (a very old tradition) of laughing on the Sunday after Easter as we celebrate the cosmic joke that God plays on sin and death when Jesus Christ is raised from the dead. It is a day to laugh, to lift up our hearts, to thank God that we know already the end of the story.

I’m loving this idea. I’ve spent about an hour already looking up hymns and liturgy and of course, jokes to tell.

And then I realize that since I’ve been holed up in a conference room for the last two days that I have no idea what has been going on in the world. I check CNN, and I check weather.com… 72 dead from tornadoes in one town in Alabama… friends freaking out on facebook over tornadoes that barely clipped their own homes and the severe weather alerts that have them shaking in their boots every time the sirens go off.

I start to think about these two funerals that I have coming up this very weekend.

I start to remember the brokenness so many people in our communities are experiencing right now.

I start to look out on that quiet street before me and wonder who is sleeping in an alley tonight, instead of in a king size bed at the Marriott.

I know in my bones that God has already won. I know that Jesus Christ has been raised from the dead. I understand. I believe. But I find it so hard to keep that Easter joy in my heart because we haven’t reached the end of the story yet! We are inbetween times… in between the empty tomb and the new creation. It’s here, but not fully. It’s already, but not yet.

How on earth can we laugh at a time like this? How can we laugh as cities are ravaged by deadly winds and little ones go to bed hungry tonight? How can we laugh when people are staring death in the face and losing? How can we laugh when the disparity between the haves and the havenots is so stark?

Maybe the question is… how can we not laugh?

How can we not just take a deep breath and remember that God is in control… not us.

St. John Chrysostom preached in his famous Easter sermon:

If anyone is devout and loves God, let him enjoy this fair and radiant triumphal feast. If anyone is a wise servant, let him rejoice and enter into the joy of his Lord.

He gives rest to him who comes at the 11th hour, even as to him who has worked from the first hour. And He shows mercy upon the last, and cares for the first.

Let all then enter into the joy of your Lord; and receive your reward, both the first and likewise the second. You rich and poor together, keep the feast. You sober and you heedless, celebrate the day.

Rejoice today, both you who have fasted and you who have disregarded the fast… Let all receive the riches of loving-kindness.

Let no one weep for his iniquities, for pardon has shown forth from the grave. Let no one fear death, for the Savior’s death has set us free.

O Death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? Christ is risen, and thou art overthrown.

Christ is risen, and the demons are fallen. Christ is risen, and the angels rejoice. Christ is risen, and life reigns. Christ is risen, and the tomb is emptied of the dead. To Him be glory and dominion unto ages of ages. Amen.

This world is broken and imperfect and horrible things happen all around us. But if we cannot laugh in the midst of our sorrows, then the Devil has already won. If we cannot laugh and lift up one anothers spirits, then there is no hope. If we cannot laugh and rejoice, then why keep going at all?

Christ is risen. Death is overthrown. Life reigns.

We don’t have to be afraid. We don’t have to be scared. We know the end of the story and we can laugh in the face of all that tries to hurt us.

Those words are so powerful… and so hard to believe in.

But maybe… just maybe… if we get together as a community and we laugh, we will find the faith we need to trust. Maybe together we can find the strength to laugh in the face of sin and death and to really and truly mean it.

hiatus

Posted on April 23, 2011Leave a comment

I have had a really difficult time getting myself into the headspace to blog lately. I’ve been in these funks before, when I just need a break from technology, and in some ways, that has been true of this past one.

But I also think that things have just been moving at such a break-neck speed lately that I really don’t have the mental energy to sit down, stop, and reflect. I just keep doing…. and then zoning out… and then doing some more. Self-care lately has been more about stopping than processing.

A sure sign of the chaos has been my office spaces. The church office… my pastor’s office… and my home office. Piles of stuff, accessible when it is needed. But the time for processing just hasn’t been there. I keep telling myself that after Easter and School for Ministry I’m going to really stop and deal with it all… organize, toss, file, connect pieces, put things in some kind of order so that others can find them.

But it’s not “after Easter.” In the smack dab of the waiting, I sit. Christ has been laid in the tomb and the disciples hid away somewhere. They didn’t process. They didn’t sort through their feelings. They locked the door and huddled together. That’s kind of how this past month has been. Working my butt off, and then cuddling under a blanket in front of the television when the meetings stop and the work is done. Waiting… numb… not wanting to think about what comes next – at least for right now.

The disciples were shaken out of their stupor by the amazing announcement on that Easter morning. Their work wasn’t complete… their lives were not over… they need not be afraid… Their hopes were resurrected, their engagement was reignited.

My prayer is that the spark might blaze again for me. That my spirit will be reignited. That I can lay aside those burdens that keep me huddled under blankets and that with the daffodils and the lilies and the tulips I can throw off the cold and say – here I am. I’m ready. Nothing can hold me back. Try and stop me.

Living Among the Dead

Posted on April 4, 2010Leave a comment

Why are you looking for the living among the dead?

Why are you looking for life among places where there is only death?

Why are you looking for light in total darkness?

Why are you looking in all the wrong places?

Those questions all barraged me when I sat down and reflected on our gospel reading. As Luke tells the story, these disciples of Jesus who happened to be of the female persuasion, were heading to the tomb of their Lord. They were bearing spices and oils to anoint and properly lay his body to rest.

They weren’t looking for the living at all. Their light, their life, their hope had died on the cross with Jesus. They were looking for a dead man.

Why are you looking for the living among the dead?

I find that question strange, because they weren’t! These faithful few were coming to the tomb to honor Jesus. They were coming to pay their respects. They were coming because that’s what you do for people you love. It was a duty for them… in the very best sense of the word.

They came to the tomb and they couldn’t even possibly begin to imagine that life, new life, resurrection life was waiting for them.

Two years ago, on Easter Sunday, I shared with all of you one of my favorite stories. It is called “Hope for the Flowers.” And it is about looking for life in all of the wrong places.

In the story, there is a little caterpillar named Stripe and he is looking for something, but he isn’t quite sure what it is. He was happy for a while, but now he is restless… he knows that there is something more out there. One day, he comes across this mound, heap, mountain of other caterpillars. They are all climbing on top of one another, trying to get as high as they possibly can. There are rumors that there is something wonderful at the top of this pile. So Stripe joins in the climb. He is yearning for what is at the top, even though he doesn’t know what it is. And along the way, he makes some terrible, terrible choices. He hurts others. He pushes them out of the way. He has to stop himself from looking in their eyes so he doesn’t feel so bad about what he is doing.

Stripe was looking for life in the midst of the dead. He was looking for life among things that were actually sucking the life right out of him.

The women who went to the tomb had just spent a day and a half weeping and mourning. They felt like all of the hope and light and joy in the world had just been sucked right out of them. And so they went to the tomb to mourn, to weep, to honor, and to say their goodbyes.

And you know what… if those angels hadn’t appeared to ask them a simple question, that is where their lives would have stayed. They would have looked for the dead, found an empty tomb, and gone home in utter despair.

We live our lives that way too often. We look for life among the dead. We seek happiness and wholeness in all of the wrong places. We then we are content with being discontented.

Why are we looking for the living among the dead? Why are we looking for our Lord and Savior among the dead and dying things of this world?

That question keeps coming back to me.

For those women on Easter morning, it was a tomb that they clung so closely to. It was a tomb that kept them from being out in the world where they would find the Risen Christ.

What is it with you?

What are the dead and dying things that you hold on to that keep you from finding the Living One?

For one woman I taught in a bible study, it was her King James Bible. She had been given the bible when she was in third grade and it was the only bible that she had ever owned. She had been told it was the only version of the bible that was acceptable. But you know what? She couldn’t understand what was written in her bible. My friend could only read at the 9th grade level… not to mention the fact that the language used in that translation is so dead and foreign that she couldn’t make any sense of it. She faithfully struggled to read the words in that old Bible of hers, but she couldn’t understand it and so she couldn’t find Jesus in there.

For a colleague of mine, it was his business. For years, he had worked in the corporate world and had purchased his own company. He climbed and climbed to the top, seeking success and power and telling himself that when he got to the top he could enjoy life. But he only found a longing that he couldn’t quite fulfill.

Where is the dead place that you keep looking for new life?

What is it that we as a church are holding on to that keeps us from coming face to face with new and abundant life?

In my two years here, I have heard quite a few answers to that question. We would have new life in our church if only we… This church would grow if … Are we looking in the right places? Are we looking for life – new life – life abundant at all?

If we go back to the story of our sad little caterpillar, Stripe, we find that he is stuck in this endless climb of despair and defeat. But then, one day, he sees something that makes his heart stop. He sees a butterfly. Stripe catches a glimpse, a possibility of something he can’t quite understand and he decides to lay aside this life of climbing, to let go of everything that he thought he knew and he decides to do something very strange. He finds his way to a quiet branch, far away from the piles of caterpillars and he builds himself a cocoon, he dies to the world as he knew it… and on the other side of that cocoon, he finds fullness, new life, as a butterfly.

Stripe was looking for life in the midst of the dead. Until he stopped looking. Until he crawled back out into the world that he was born into and he decided to let go and take a leap of faith and try something new. And new life found him.

This week, I have thought a lot about why we need the resurrection. Why does it matter that there is new life in Jesus? He died for our sins, isn’t that enough?

A friend reminded me that we need the resurrection, we need that glimpse of the butterfly, so that we don’t go back to the tombs, the places of death and hopelessness in our lives and live them over and over and over again.

When those women at the tomb recognized the truth – that their Lord was no longer dead but was alive – JOY flooded their hearts. They couldn’t keep quiet about what they had heard! Their mourning turned into dancing!

When my friend in Bible study realized that the King James bible wasn’t the only one that was available to her… when she picked up a translation that was more appropriate for her reading level – an entire new world of the scriptures opened up for her… she found the living Jesus on the pages of her bible speaking to her, making sense, giving her hope for her life.

When my colleague, went to church one Sunday, he was moved by the Holy Spirit and caught a glimpse of another life that awaited him. He went home and put his business up for sale and he enrolled in seminary.

This morning, I want to invite us to take a courageous leap of faith. I want to invite each of us to come down off of the heaps and mountains that we have been climbing, to come away from the dead and barren places where we have been seeking, and to try something new.

Today, we officially begin a journey towards new life.

Some time ago, Jill Sanders, our Field Outreach Minister invited us to participate in a process called Co-Missioned. It is a two to three year journey where we will discover what God is doing in our midst, we will listen for where God is calling us next, and then we will lay aside our old life as a church and learn to live out God’s will for our community.

Maybe a good way of describing this process is to think a little bit about our caterpillar Stripe. This journey is a lot like climbing up onto a branch and building a cocoon – not knowing what exactly we will look like on the other side.

But we have the faith to do so, because we have already seen butterflies. We have the faith to trust in God and to let go of our baggage and ideas and ways of doing things because we have seen God’s amazing and transforming resurrection power.

The hard part is that it means some things will have to die. Stripe the caterpillar was no more after he entered the cocoon. And we will have to let go of some dead and lifeless things of our own. We may have to set aside age old arguments and grievances. We might have to rip out old carpet – both literally and figuratively. We might say goodbye to old ways of doing things. We might say goodbye to new ways of doing things that just aren’t the right fit for us. We might have to let dried-up attitudes fall by the wayside. We might need to let bad habits of not coming to church regularly or of not using all of our gifts and talents die.

It is scary… but it is also exciting… and I hope you will also hear that we are among good company.

Because as our gospel story continues on for this morning, we find that there are some disciples who have left Jerusalem. They have left behind what was lost and dead and abanadoned and they set out on a road unknown. These disciples know what the next stop on their journey will be, but they aren’t quite sure what awaits them beyond that. But they set out anyways.

And on this journey, on the familiar road of Emmaus – something amazing happens. Out there in the world, and not in some quiet somber graveyard, they find the risen Lord.

He asks them a question. “What have you been conversing about?”

So they talk. And they chat. And for the life of them, they can’t figure out who this strange man is. But they share with him what they know and what they hoped for and what they are seeking now.

And when they stop for some food, and Christ breaks the bread before them – they realize that they have been traveling with Christ all along.

So let us travel on this journey together. Let us have conversations and let us tell stories. And let us break bread together. Because here at this table, our eyes are opened and we see the living Christ who has been with us all along.

Come on the journey. Lay aside the past. Take up the future. There are butterflies waiting!

Afraid of the Truth

Posted on April 12, 2009Leave a comment

This morning, I invite you to hear our gospel reading with new ears…

Three women made their way to a lonely tomb just after sunrise. The sky still had that rosy pink hue – but instead of feeling warm and comforted, they were reminded of the bloodshed only days earlier.

Never again could they look at a cross the same way again. Before, it had been a symbol of punishment, a tool used by the Romans to keep the people in line. Now, it was where their teacher had been martyred. It stood for all of his truth and goodness and they would forever remember him upon that cross.

They were journeying back to the place where they had laid his body. They were going to mourn but also to honor and glorify his broken body. They were going to say goodbye.

A million thoughts raced through the minds of those three women. Chief among them – what’s next? Would they, could they, return to their old lives? With Jesus dead, there wasn’t really any among the group of disciples who seemed ready to continue sharing his message. For all they knew, the disciples had scattered in the nights before – never to return again. No, it all ended on the cross. All of their hopes and dreams, all of the promises of the Kingdom of God ended on the cross. It was finished.

They brought with them the spices and oils they would need, but as the three women neared the tomb, they began to wonder what on earth they were doing. Were the Romans who crucified their Teacher watching them? What about the Jewish leaders? And if they made it there safely, how were they going to roll back the stone covering the entrance on their own?

Despite their doubts and fears, they kept moving forward, step by step, clutching one another’s hands, until they came to the place where he had been laid.

The stone… That big huge obstacle they thought they would have to overcome. It was gone. And peering inside, a young man sat on the cold hard slab just inside the tomb. What was he doing there? And where on earth was the body of Jesus?

The man looked at them and the women instinctively flinched. He had a strange aura about him and was dressed in dazzling white. They were absolutely speechless.

Don’t be afraid – he whispered to them…. You’re looking for Jesus of Nazareth, but he’s not here! He has been raised, just like he promised. Go – tell the disciples and Peter that he will meet you in Galilee. He’s waiting for you!

The hearts of the women literally stopped beating for a few moments. They had come to honor a dead body and they were met by a mystery. He has been raised?! He’s… waiting for us? Was it a trap? Was it true? Could it possibly be?

It was all so completely overwhelming. They felt like they were standing in the presence of the holy – like Moses before the burning bush – like Elijah standing on the side of the mountain and hearing God’s in the silence… and yet nothing made sense. Nothing that was happening fit with their understanding of the world! If the massive stone could be rolled away without any human effort, if Jesus really was raised from the dead, what other assumptions and truths that they had known would be proved false? If the very power of death had been overcome, what was next? What else was going to change? (Charles Campbell)

The world was turned upside down for these three women by this radically holy encounter. Terror and amazement seized them and they turn and fled from the tomb. Was it unworthiness? Was it the weight of the message that they were called to proclaim? Was it fear and awe that come from being face to face with God’s power? The world may never know. But Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome said nothing to anyone… for they were afraid.

Living, Risen God,
May the words of my mouth be your words, and may I be blessed with the courage to say them.
May the thoughts of all of our hearts and our minds, be your thoughts, and may we be blessed with the courage to live them. Amen.

Christ is Risen! “He is Risen Indeed” Christ is Risen! “He is Risen Indeed!” But Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome said nothing to anyone… for they were afraid.

Believe it or not – that is the way that the Gospel of Mark originally ended. Jesus never shows up in his resurrected glory, there is no witness from the disciples, no sharing of the good news. Mark ends his account of the life of Jesus with three women, fleeing from the scene because terror and amazement had seized them and he tells us they said nothing to anyone.

We, of course, can say this probably didn’t actually happen for a number of reasons. First of all, all of the other gospels have the women speaking. And all of them have Mary Magdalene there at the tomb – witnessing first hand the resurrection of Christ and then sharing that message with the disciples. Secondly, if we believed Mark’s account fully – if that truly was the end of the story – then how did we get here? If they didn’t tell anyone, then how was the church born?

No, Mark has a reason for telling his story this way. Throughout his gospel, Mark is leading us on a journey, following in the footsteps of the disciples. Each and every time the disciples make a mistake and look like bumbling idiots, we learn something more about who Jesus is. Each and every time they fail, we learn more about what it means to follow God.

And this cliff-hanger ending is no exception. Mark tells us the women were afraid and said nothing to anyone… and then we are invited to live the rest of the story.

This morning… after we have encountered together the holiness of God and the miracle of the resurrection… what will we do? Will we let fear close our mouths? Will we roll the stone back in front of the tomb and conveniently forget that this all happened? Will we be silent? Or will we find the courage to risk it all to share this amazing and terrifying good news with the world?

Sharron Riessinger Lucas calls this: living in the tension of holy fear and prodigal joy. We are filled with joy because God has run out to meet us like a father who destroys all barriers in order to welcome home us wayward children! Christ is Risen! Jesus destroyed death in order to give us life! The tomb is empty! Amen!

But in the midst of that joy, there does reside fear in our hearts. We would be foolish not to admit it. Because with the empty tomb comes the amazing and awesome announcement that “Jesus is risen and on the loose in this world” (Lucas). And if God is really out there – really present in this world that we live in… then as the great theologian Karl Barth once said… “each of us has some serious changes to make in our living.”

That is as true in my life as it is in yours. And what keeps us from making those changes and truly proclaiming Christ as a living reality is fear.

We all have fears. I know that they are there, percolating in your throat, ready to cut off the good news. So what better time than Easter Morning to share our fears with one another… here in the midst of these lilies, the alleluias, the sweet smell of spring’s new life (Lucas).

I thought about passing around a microphone and asking you to share your fears… but if I’m going to be honest with myself – most of us would have a fear of standing up and admitting our fears! So here are a few that I have been pondering

We fear speaking on behalf of those who cannot speak for themselves, because what if we say the wrong things?

We fear seeking justice for the marginalized and release for the captives, because what if it puts us in danger?

We fear telling the truth, because what if our message is rejected? What if we are rejected?

We fear sharing what we have with others, because what if we don’t have enough?

We fear welcoming the stranger in our midst, because what if they stay?

And I think we fear all of those things, because we haven’t let ourselves fully accept the reality that Christ is alive… not spiritually present, not a memory of the past, but actually resurrected from the dead.

As Charles Campbell puts it – “[Jesus] goes ahead of us into the future to meet us there and claim us, not on our terms, but on his. We can no longer deal with Jesus as a dead body, safely buried in a tomb, but now we encounter him as a living reality. There is no escaping him, no containing him, no forgetting him.”

And if Jesus claims us on his terms… then we don’t need to worry about saying the wrong things because the Holy Spirit will bless us with words. We don’t need to worry about being in harm’s way or being rejected, because we know that nothing in this world, neither angels or demons or powers or principalities, neither life nor death can separate us from the love of God in Jesus Christ. We don’t need to worry about running out of food or money, because we have life and life abundant! And we don’t need to worry about the stranger, because Lord knows, we could use a few more bodies in these pews! I mean… because each and every single one of us is a vital part of the body of Christ. God is in control…

Control is the key word there. We have fear in our hearts because we have come face to face with the holy and we are no longer in control. And any encounter with the holy rightly puts awe and trembling in our hearts.

It is the kind of fear portrayed in C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia series, as the people rightfully fear and revere Aslan the Lion. He is dangerous, he is righteous and there is no escaping him, no containing him, no forgetting him. He is wild and wonderful.

And the wild and wonderful Christ, who cannot be escaped or contained or forgotten is calling our names and has a word for us to proclaim. That on an old rugged cross, stained with blood so divine, Jesus suffered and died to pardon and sanctify us all….and…. AND… this is the part we leave out of the song… AND death itself has been defeated.

And Mark asks us: when – not if, but when the terror and amazement of the good news seizes your life – what are you going to do?

afraid.

Posted on April 12, 20091 Comment

Never again would they look at a cross the same way again. Before, it had been a symbol of punishment, a tool used by the Romans to keep the people in line. Now, it was where their teacher had been martyred. It stood for all of his truth and goodness and they would forever remember him upon that cross.

They were journeying back to the place where they had laid his body. They were going to mourn but also to honor and glorify his broken body. They were going to say goodbye.

A million thoughts raced through the minds of those three women. Chief among them – what’s next? Would they, could they, return to their old lives? With Jesus dead, there wasn’t really any among the group of disciples who seemed ready to continue sharing his message. No, it all ended on the cross. All of their hopes and dreams, all of the promises of the Kingdom of God ended on the cross. It was finished.

Despite their doubts and fears, they kept moving forward, step by step, clutching one another’s hands, until they came to place where he had been laid.

The stone… That big huge obstacle they thought they would have to overcome. It was gone. And a young man sat on the cold hard slab just inside the tomb. What was he doing there? And where on earth was the body of Jesus?

The man looked at them and the women instinctively flinched. He had a strange aura about him and was dressed in dazzling white. They were absolutely speechless.

It was all so completely overwhelming. They felt like they were standing in the presence of the holy – like Moses before the burning bush – like Elijah standing on the side of the mountain and hearing God’s voice in the silence… and yet nothing made sense. Nothing that was happening fit with their understanding of the world! If the massive stone could be rolled away without any human effort, if Jesus really was raised from the dead, what other assumptions and truths that they had known would be proved false? If the very power of death had been overcome, what was next? What else was going to change?

The world was turned upside down for these three women by this radically holy encounter. Terror and amazement seized them and they turn and fled from the tomb. Was it unworthiness? Was it the weight of the message that they were called to proclaim? Was it fear and awe that come from being face to face with God’s power? The world may never know. But Mary Magdelene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome said nothing to anyone… for they were afraid.

Passion Sunday

Posted on April 5, 2009Leave a comment

For about two and a half weeks now, I have been working on and reworking and tweaking our Passion Sunday worship. Last year, our format was pretty much a lessons and hymns service – where we read the scriptures and sang songs in between chunks of the reading.

I’m always torn about whether or not to really focus on Palm Sunday or to span the gammit and do the whole Passion Sunday reading. Knowing my congregation, probably only 15% of those who regularly attend worship will be at our Maundy Thursday and Good Friday services. And that is only 5% of the whole church. So if we didn’t hear the Passion story on the Sunday before Easter, the depth of the journey, the betrayal and the sacrifice would go unnoticed. And Easter just isn’t Easter if you haven’t journeyed through the cross.

But how do you tell the whole story on a Sunday morning? I’ve been reading a lot of other pastor’s litanies, and how they have put together worship and used some ideas from here and some ideas from there. The main structure that has fed into the service we will be doing tomorrow is a responsive singing of “Were You There.” The verses are not the typical ones, but each one ties into the readings that have preceded it.

What I did end up doing however, was take each of the scripture readings and put any spoken words into particular people’s voices. There is a narrator, but then there will be someone speaking the words of Jesus, of Peter, of the Disciples, of the Crowd, of Pilate, of Judas, and of Caiaphas. And then as I continued to wrestle with the text, each of those voices tell a bit of their own story and give some context to the message as we hear again the story of Christ.

I’m pretty happy with the final script, and I’m putting it all in God’s hands for tomorrow morning – praying that the spirit will be in our reading, and will help everyone present understand the Journey Through the Cross.

Whose Baptism?

Posted on January 12, 2009Leave a comment

For a few weeks, I have felt a bit off in my sermon prep. The pieces I wanted to come together hadn’t, and it just seemed like the message wasn’t connecting with people where they were.

This week, I surely had a much different focus going into the sermon than what was produced, but I for some reason got into a roll on a modern interpretation of the passage from Acts this morning. I talked about a group of guys heading to the big city to see this crazy preacher lady. They just wanted to see the spectacle, but they were moved and were baptised by Jane B. in the river. And they headed home and while they wanted things to be different, nothing really was.

A few years went by and suddenly this traveling preacher came to town named Paul and he told them about what they had been missing out on – that they only had half the story – and immediately those believers were filled with the Holy Spirit.

I hope to post on this in a few days, but I read the book “The Shack” last week. It absolutely amazed me. Yeah, there are some theological points that I don’t agree with, but if I’m honest with myself, there are far more that resonate with my own theology than don’t. Especially when it comes to really being open and trusting that God can dwell within you. That your life can be different because God lives within you.

In my sermon this morning, I tried to move from that story of missing pieces to talk about how we don’t fully understand the power of the Holy Spirit that is given to us in baptism. We underestimate its power. We don’t trust it. And so we are not able to do the things we know we are called to. We get caught up in fear and hesitation instead of resting in the knowledge that God is within us, God has filled us, God loves us and God is for us.

In the service we also had a time to remember our baptisms and I think the morning went very well. I had a number of people come up to me after the service and talk about how meaningful it was for them. And what was even more amazing about the service is that I felt like I really worshipped this morning too.

Afterwards we had our first ever worship committee meeting to talk about plans for Lent and Easter. Getting answers and ideas out of them was like pulling teeth, and I’m not sure if that’s because I’m asking the wrong questions or if they just aren’t used to being asked these kinds of questions. I think we did come up with a general theme for the lenten season: Simplicity and Spiritual Disciplines… about what we need to let go of in order to really enjoy our relationship with God… as well as some songs to guide us through the season. We talked about plans for Holy Week, Ash Wednesday, and then Easter Sunday.

To my amazement, someone suggested that we scrap the Sunrise Service – because it doesn’t have a large attendance, and the youth aren’t really involved in it anyways. And then someone agreed. And someone actually said: just because we’ve always done it that way doesn’t mean that it’s worth doing. WOO HOO!!! Last year’s Easter Sunrise service was something the youth group helped me put together – complete with hard rock songs instead of hymns… and then none of them showed up. So this gives me permission to not do it… yay!

The rest of the day was spent on the couch watching moves. Lots of movies. “I Now Pronounce you Chuck and Larry” “Music and Lyrics” “Burn After REading” “Hancock” “Ratatouille”… it was just one of those kinds of days.

Christ is Risen! Easter Sunday is Over! Praise the Lord!

Posted on March 26, 2008Leave a comment

Well. Somehow I made it through one of the busiest weeks of my entire life. The irony didn’t escape me that while many friends and siblings and loved ones were on spring break, I felt like i was in the midst of finals.

This past week, I had a funeral, gave the invocation at a banquet, had the neice and nephew over for a sleep over, did Maundy Thursday service, Good Friday service, visited three diferent sets of relatives and had 2 worship services on Sunday morning. *whew!*

Now I’m exhausted. But instead of taking the day off monday and sleeping, I ended up taking my car to the shop. And then found out the repairs would be almost as much as the car itself, that the parts had to be ordered and that I shouldn’t even drive the vehicle until the repairs were finished. So, we dropped the car off at my in-laws, rented a vehicle and then got ready to drive to Des Moines for our School for Ministry.

I’m in the midst of it right now. I thought about blogging my way through, but for right now I’m just going to update as we go. Our faculty is Roberta Bondi, Tex Sample and Lovett Weems. So far- it has been EXCELLENT. Bondi is teaching us about prayer, especially through the desert mothers and fathers. Sample is lecturing about justice – especially corporate domination of government, the inequality of wealth and the increasing economic risk that families face. and Weems tomorrow will begin to talk about church leadership. I am just floored by what we have discussed so far and am SO glad that I am here.