Fear-less-ness in Christ

First John 4:16-21 (Look it up in your own Bible!)

Fear-less-ness in Christ

A few of the phrases that have bounced around in the news and at the water-cooler lately are: “Panic,” “Selling Frenzy,” “Irrational”. This has to do mainly with the financial troubles that have so quickly developed in our country. Institutions that you would think are as reliable as sunshine suddenly disappear. Households are used to the idea of living “hand-to-mouth,” but corporations? Who would have thought? Add to that the uncertainty of what the next administration will introduce, throw in a natural disaster or two, and there is the tendency toward panic. Humans will reveal where their trust lies when their situation in life changes.

Is there a way to think about these realities as Christians, so that our faith helps us? I think so, but hey, I’m a pastor. Of course I would think so. But most of you are baptized members of the body of Christ, so you probably agree that your faith has something to say.

One of my favorite parts of the New Testament says “there is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.” I tend to think of this little verse many times. Fear has a way of lengthening hesitation, shortening breaths, and hastening anxiety. As I watch my little retirement account get little (much littler!) all of these things start to happen. But what about my faith? Where does it fit into the big picture?

In Christ, as a Christian, the world's final things have less finality. In fact there’s a degree of acceptance or even thanks when finality really comes home, whether it’s in our favor or not. In our faith, we hear about another finality that happens in Christ, and then surprisingly a new beginning in his resurrection, which is free from the bonds that drive us to be fearful. In the resurrected Christ, there is no fear because all the threats have been left behind. Even death.

So I think the perspective that my faith provides helps me to listen and approach these problems with a more level head, not because I’m smarter, but because (to use an investing term) my eggs are in a different basket.

Block-Busted

How do you like this gray store-front? Holy smokes, it didn't take long for it to become an even greater eyesore than while it was in business. Blockbuster. Rows and rows of movies except miraculously that one title idea that sent you to that store in the first place. Blockbuster "east" had already closed down about 4 months ago. Now the second one in town has bitten the dust.

I suppose I could have asked around as to the reason these two stores closed so suddenly. Maybe the owner had family problems, or financial problems (which are still family problems). It would have been more responsible to find the real reason for the closures, but it is more delightful to do a little imagining.

I think it was a local swarm of little red boxes. They're video rental vending machines. Surprise surprise, they are called Redbox. Within a one mile radius, there are three of these little devils. Not as much in terms of selection, but hey, you can reserve titles online, select your neighborhood Redbox, go on a quick errand to pick it up. It reminds me of when I played high school football. The kids that could always tackle me were the short ones who cut me down at the knees. Or do you remember the movie "Bugs' Life"? The grasshoppers grow to fear the ants not because one ant is as big as the grasshopper, but because there are hundreds of ants for every one hopper. Behold the power of little red boxes. Don't feel bad, Blockbuster, it's just business.

Just Ask

In the congregation I serve, from one point of view there is just barely "critical mass." What I mean is that there seems to be a small number of those who are interested in having leadership for an event or a committee. Could be that's what goes on in most worshiping communities. A relatively small number of folk are more vocal, and so they are seen as the most willing individuals. That's how the pastor might tend to interpret the phenomenon.

But what was it that brought those people to that point within the community? I suppose it was a simple "ask" that someone made at some point, perhaps even several years ago. Pretty soon that one person, whether they consider it a gift of theirs or not, finds him or herself in a position of leadership. The community has made an assumption. This is done so the emotional system can efficiently move through the months and years without much thoughtfulness or purposefulness. The togetherness force is powerful. Ultimately the togetherness force (if unchecked) allows people to be non-individual, which implies that those non-individuals are also non-responsible. After a few times around the block, the non-individual is struggling with a sense of emptiness or even frustration. This can be translated in spiritual terms as well.

Just ask. I was contacted by a member of the community who is directing a community thanksgiving meal again this year. A great ministry. This will be the third annual meal for anyone who wants to come. All the food is donated, and there are more volunteers than the facility will hold. It's ecumenical; each church has responsibility for certain parts of the meal. We have sweet potatoes.

There are two gals at church who are usually first to do the organizing of our congregation around this ministry, but they both have other things to do with family, health-related. So I started looking down a list of church members, and as my finger traveled south on the paper, I came across a few possibilities, and then one who I thought would be just right for this job, of coordinating the sweet potatoes. She called back the next day and said, "I think I can do that. I'll make a few calls."

Just ask. This is encouraging, not because I was smart to think of her. Not either because I didn't have to do the organizing. But because there is a new leader, even for a moment, one who will define her temporary task in her own way.

Sometimes individuals like being asked. In their response, at least from the perspective of the church, they move from non-individual and non-responsible to individual and responsible.

How has God surprised you today?

Tonight at supper, I started a conversation by saying, "Do you want to know how God surprised me today?" The kids said yes, and so I told them about an interaction that I had with one of Emily's friends, and I came away thinking that I'm glad I'm a pastor.

Natalee volunteered next. She said that God surprised her by helping her through a stomach-ache at school.

The family was really starting to get into this little summary of our day. Emily went next, and said that God surprised her when her friend let her play with a special stuffed animal.

Dawn was last to share, saying that God surprised her when an old friend gave her a phone call during the day, to catch up with her.

What good conversation! Involving God's surprises was a really fun way to talk about our day.

If you decide you want to start this in your home, I would suggest starting with yourself. "Do you want to hear how God surprised me today?" That's all you need to get started involving your relationship with God with the way your family knows you.

Swisher Sweets and Wet Feets

When I was in Galveston this July, I was there by myself. I had borrowed a vehicle from my host home (I live in Eastern Oregon), and wanted to see new sights and eat seafood. Red Snapper, blackened, was the way to go at “Fisherman’s Wharf.” This restaurant was one block away from “The Strand,” which included a row of majestic old buildings that had survived “The Big One,” the hurricane of 1900. As I walked up and down that old street I wondered what it would have been like to be in Galveston around the time of the close of the Civil War, to witness the planting of the seeds of growth, and to get a sense of the optimism that people had about heading north and west, for opportunity and a better way of life.

Further inland from The Strand is a building that I thought was a stone castle. No doubt this Palace survived Hurricane Ike. As I parked to get a closer look, I realized that it had been, or is, the residence of the Catholic Bishop of the Galveston-Houston Archdiocese. It’s an impressive sight. The stonework was amazing, and the gate was intimidating. It was after-hours, so I wasn’t able to go inside for a tour.

That night in Galveston was important for me. I thought to myself, “how am I distinct from the pastors I’ve met, from those who might occupy the palace, from my good friends in the Lutheran as well as other traditions?” As the sun was beginning to set, I had made my way to the beach after stopping at a gas station for a few cheap cigars. I had decided that the way to finish my sabbatical was to smoke a cigar barefoot while standing in the waters of the Gulf of Mexico, the “Third Coast” according to the locals. Most all of that experience was a “new thing” for me. 1) Being alone, 2) smoking anything, 3) being in the warm waters of the Gulf Coast. It might sound a little corny, but standing there with the churning waters (Hurricane Dolly had just landed many hours south near Corpus) and having the mainland behind me was in a sense a prayer. I found myself using my surroundings and my place in them as a prayer to God.

“God, what do you have planned for me? Where are things heading? What’s my horizon? What about St. Paul Lutheran Church? What’s the next thing, and how are you speaking to them and to me, now?” Mixed with prayers of thanks for a crazy and renewing sabbatical, this was how that sunset was for me. I was thankful that I was there, and that I was nearing the end of my time away, and that I was soon going to be disarming the church’s security system on my first day back to the office. I was ready to be involved in this ministry once more.

Here are a few principles that I’ve come up with through these three months. I think they have to do with pastoral identity, with ongoing discernment of what “sabbath” may mean in today’s world, and I think they have to do with an ongoing exploration into the mystery of God who is known to us in Christ Jesus.

1. There is no “planning” to be renewed. But there is “expecting” to be renewed.
2. Christ’s ministry takes on many forms throughout the body of Christ (the Church) and the world.
3. Setbacks are an opportunity for me to release myself into the care of God and others.
4. New ideas come from all over the place.
5. There can be affirmation of one’s own identity when anonymous.
6. It takes a lifetime to figure out oneself.
7. Children love their parents.
8. Anxiety is overrated.
9. There is something special in the office of “pastor”.
10. Authority can be exercised with love and care.

There's a verse from an old hymn written by Horatio Spafford,

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

I suppose for the time being, that's a good way to describe whatever it is in me that wants to be articulated as I remember sabbatical and continue in ministry.

table fellowship

"Listen! I am standing at the door, knocking; if you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to you and eat with you, and you with me." (Revelation 3:20)

Table Fellowship
I don’t remember very many sermons. Truth be told, I am a terrible listener-of-sermons. Yet I do remember this one. It was preached at my college, Trinity Lutheran College, by Jim Bergquist, the college president at that time.
He spoke of a conflict that had happened in his congregation, or among pastors and other church leaders, and how distressing it was for him. He wanted to get a little distance from the situation, for the sake of a better perspective. In order to do this, he went to his wood shop, so he could make a little sawdust and think about what was going on with this controversy, and what his role should be in it.
As he was working with wood, the thought came to him, that because we are reconciled in Christ, the walls of separation are now our tables of fellowship. In Christ, the wall has been taken down and is now used for a table. The next day he shared his thoughts with the group that was in conflict. I wish I could say that his message resolved the whole conflict, but honestly I don’t remember “the rest of the story.”
The image surely has stuck with me. Walls of separation being used for tables of fellowship. Last Sunday, I was able to help in the blessing of Peter Lawson’s home. There were around 25 of us at his small house, squeezing into each room like apple slices in a pie. What a joy it was to bring God’s Word and prayer, and fellowship, to Peter’s home. I saw the gladness in Peter’s face.
When we got to the dining room, I looked down and noticed the table. I thought to myself, this table looks so much like our old one! Could it be the table that we sold at a yard sale six years ago is showing up in Peter’s dining room? What are the chances?
Dawn and I received the table as a gift from a person we knew in Washington state. He was an insurance agent. He decided it was too small for his growing family. It was our first table. It moved with us from Washington to Minnesota. We used it for the first two years, in our seminary apartment. For one year while I was on internship, we loaned it to a friend who was in the doctorate program at Luther Seminary. After internship, we had to pry the table out of her hands because she loved it so much. It moved with us here to Eastern Oregon. After a few years, we decided the shape wasn’t quite right, and so we sold it through a yard sale.
Now it re-appeared. Peter’s very close friends (practically adoptive parents) the Kirby’s had bought this table at a used furniture store nearby, had used it as a sewing table for a while, and then decided to give it to Peter for Christmas one year. The Kirby’s were at the home blessing too, and told the story of the table from the time it had belonged to them.
So this square table has in a sense come full circle. From my perspective, I was honored to be the pastor at this home blessing, doing what God and the people of St. Paul had called me to do. The table had been part of our furniture at the beginning of my journey toward ministry. Now it has passed on to another person, and this is good.

Hmmm

The Gospel is like the flight of a hummingbird. Many directions, hard to track, stands still only for a moment, long enough for you to wish time would stand still, and then zip! You begin to seek after what you were just witnessing, to want it again. The Gospel of Christ has this kind of characteristic.