Where is God?

Last week was a tough week for America.  In the midst of planning, decorating, and anticipating a well-deserved mid-winter break, a man shattered our image of ourselves.  Of course, I don't know anyone directly impacted by last week's tragedy.  I don't know the victims or their families.  I don't know the gunman or his family.  I've never even been to Connecticut.

But none of that matters.  What happened in Newtown affected me.  Generally, Friday is my day off.  Depending on Myranda's schedule, my Fridays consist of helping her with a project or running errands.  Some weeks it's just Palynn and me.  Other other weeks Myranda is home with us.  Last Friday was a daddy-daughter day.  Just the two of us at home.  Maybe a little laundry...cook...and hopefully a nap before the other kids came home from school.  But then I saw my cousin's post on Facebook...another school shooting.

I turned on the news and unfortunately her post was right.  As I watched in horror, I felt the same emotions I had felt when other tragedies struck our country.  My stomach was in knots...I physically felt illness creeping over me.  But this time I felt something different too.  In the past, I never had to have any answers.  All I had to have was the questions.  But when you have the title "pastor", people look to you for answers.  Even as I was trying to process the evil that was unfolding 1,000 miles away, I knew that I would need to have something to offer people.

So for almost 48 hours I pondered how I would address this event with my congregation.  Should I ignore it and just preach what was prepared?  No, that was wrong and that's not what God was leading me to do.  Should I just scrap everything I had prepared?  No, that too was wrong.  The Spirit had led me through my study time and much of what I was going to say was even more appropriate than it was before.

So Sunday morning, I came into the office a little earlier than usual.  I quietly sat at my desk, just hoping to hear something...anything that would guide me.  As I sat there I remembered Psalm 139.  Now most people know the words of this Psalm that state "For it was you who formed my inward parts; you knit me together in my mother's womb.  I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made."  But that's not what I remembered on Sunday.  I remembered the words from the stanza before which states "Where can I go from your spirit?  Or where can I flee from your presence?  If I ascend to heaven, you are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there.  If I take the wings of the morning and settle at the farthest limits of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me fast."

And so when I addressed the tragedy with my church, I was thinking of those words.  According to the psalmist, God was there in Newtown.  His love flowed in the middle of the hate.  His protection was there even as innocent lives were lost.  His right hand held fast...  I'm not smart enough to have all the answers, but I do know that God was there.  That is the main message of Advent.  Come, God, live here with us.  Don't leave us alone.  Don't distance yourself from us because of our sin.  And God, because he is love, did just that.

Advent will turn into Christmas next week.  We will be reminded that Emmanuel, which means God with us, did that once and for all through Christ.  The rest of our lives will be lived in Advent II...waiting for the final consummation of God with us.  There will be other tragedies.  There will be war, famine, disease, and turmoil.  And yet, because of Advent I we do not fear because God is with us.  Until next time...O Come, O Come, Emmanuel.




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I'm a Pharisee

Alright...I admit it...I AM A PHARISEE!!!  Whew, I'm glad I got that off of my chest.  I'm sorry about the reality of this statement, but I really can't help it.  I think part of it is because I like to follow rules.  Rules make sense to me.  They help govern the world and keep everything neat and tidy.  Rules (especially the black and white ones...without any gray) make life simpler for me.  For example, if someone asks if I can do something for them that I really don't want to do, rules help keep me from lying.  I can honestly answer, "While I would like to help you, it is against the rules.  I'm sorry."

One of the areas where I am really a stickler for the "rules" is with the liturgical calendar.  When it comes to the proper colors, songs, sayings, and readings for the year, I try to follow Tradition as much as possible.  So when it comes time to change the paraments, I dig through the storage room and find the appropriate color for the season.  In fact this past year, I found a co-conspirator.  After visiting with one of my parishioners about my diabolical plan, I had her sew a larger altar cloth and a cloth to drape the large cross behind the pulpit in the appropriate color.  I have been very pleased.

*Picture taken from United Methodist Memes

Usually, there is little or no comment about my rule following habit within the church calendar.  But this time of year is different.  Retailers and radio stations have made it much more difficult for people like me.  As soon as the turkey bones are discarded from the Thanksgiving feast, they begin pushing Christmas upon the people.  The ABC Family network took a perfectly legitimate liturgical song, The Twelve Days of Christmas, and tweaked it for their own use.  Now instead of 12 days, they have 25 Days of Christmas where they show movies, cartoons, and specials all with a Christmas theme; all of this begins on December 1st.  That's not Christmas, it's Advent!  While I suppose there is nothing wrong with this, it does bother me a little bit.  Because now, the people of the Church want to sing Christmas songs in December.  That's where my rule infatuation conflicts with expectations.  Here is the result:

*Picture taken from United Methodist Memes

Just this week I had to make another decision about following the calendar versus the expectations of the people.  On Monday, our church installed a new carillon bell system.  It is really a state of the art machine.  It has an internal calendar that it follows and plays songs appropriate for the Church year.  When the guy who was installing it was showing us how to program the songs, he asked about Christmas.  He said you can either start Christmas songs on December 1st or the 24th.  I piped up and said the 24th.  But it was not as easy of a decision as it sounds.  Weighing on my mind was not only the calendar "rule" but also the people's expectations.  After all, the entire community of Haskell is exposed to these songs.  Wouldn't they rather hear Christmas carols instead of Advent hymns?  If we start Christmas songs on the 24th through Epiphany will they think we have messed everything up?  Will anyone even notice?  I don't know...I guess we will see.

I think the reason I get so uptight about following the "rules" of the Church year is that it makes sense.  It keeps us from moving too quickly.  As humans, we want to skip all of the bad stuff and move directly to the good.  We want feasts without fasts.  We want celebration without lament.  We want...we want...we want.

But if we allow each season to come and go according to plan, then we are allowed to see a fuller picture of what is happening right in front of our eyes.  We allow God time to work miracles amidst a backdrop of chaos and confusion.  We get to experience the sacrament of living.  Advent is about waiting.  It is a pause that reminds us not to move too quickly.  There will be a time for Joy to the World and Hark the Herald Angels Sing...but not yet.  Now is the time for expectation that builds up to a climax.  Now is the time for patience.  It is the time for us to continue to cry out from the desert the coming of Christ and proclaim with enthusiasm O Come, O Come Emmanuel.

Until next time...





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