Isn't this the message and mystery we celebrate at Christmas--not that the very fullness of God showed up in a special super being that looked like a human and talked like a human, but that the fullness of God was pleased to dwell fully as one of us, as fully human? To me this means that, no matter how unfavorably I might seem to compare (even on my good days) to Jesus of Nazareth, the Christ of God, I am, nevertheless, a local expression of this divine Christmas mystery. To know that the very fullness of God is pleased to be dwelling in me is a humbling, astonishing, and, frankly, scary thought; for now the problem is not to 'let Jesus into my heart', as the saying goes, but to let him out of my heart and into my life!
As we celebrate the birth of Jesus, in Bethlehem of Judea long ago, may we also know the joy of looking at our brothers and sisters and saying, with astonished wonder: Gee!He'sUs!
RS
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Working Toward Retirement!?
Lately I have been thinking more about retirement, probably because I am rapidly nearing a certain age which I do not even want to mention. But it seems that talk about retirement is everywhere these days, so it is hard not to think about it; and it also seems to me that retirement is the new American God, the new American dream, perhaps not even that new anymore.
I used to think of retirement in two different ways. The first was the traditiional understanding of retirement as rest from work, or rest from having to work, after having saved up enough money to do so--a time, hopefully a lengthy time with good health--of waking up in the morning without a schedule and the opportunity to do whatever, or go wherever, or not, whenever one wanted to. Gosh, that sounds nice just thinking about it! It is the kind of reitement my parents enjoy.
The second way I have thought about retirement is in the sense of getting a-new-set-of-tires--you know, a re-tiring, for the next stage of one's life journey. You wear out one set of tires and it comes time to get another, so that you can go as fast, or faster, than you were going before. I have heard many retired pastors announce at their retirements that they were not really retiring--they were re-tiring: getting a new set of tires so that they could continue to grace, or plague, the church, whatever the case might be.
Lately though, a third way of understanding retirement has occured to me: retirement as getting-tired-all-over-again; and who wants to do that? But that is what both of the above kind of retirememts often seem to end up being. The outer circumstances of life may change, but the inner ways of living that made us tired in life the first time around still seem to be in place, and we re-tire; we get tired all over again. As I think about it, I do not want to work toward retirement; I want to work toward untirement--to be untired, not retired.
The life of faith is a course in untirement. When Saul met Jesus on the road to Damascus, he did not retire from being a Pharisee; he untired, and lived the rest of his life in untirement, no matter the degree to which he spent himself physically, emotionally, spiritually. Perhaps we need to be offering a course in unitrement?
Randy
I used to think of retirement in two different ways. The first was the traditiional understanding of retirement as rest from work, or rest from having to work, after having saved up enough money to do so--a time, hopefully a lengthy time with good health--of waking up in the morning without a schedule and the opportunity to do whatever, or go wherever, or not, whenever one wanted to. Gosh, that sounds nice just thinking about it! It is the kind of reitement my parents enjoy.
The second way I have thought about retirement is in the sense of getting a-new-set-of-tires--you know, a re-tiring, for the next stage of one's life journey. You wear out one set of tires and it comes time to get another, so that you can go as fast, or faster, than you were going before. I have heard many retired pastors announce at their retirements that they were not really retiring--they were re-tiring: getting a new set of tires so that they could continue to grace, or plague, the church, whatever the case might be.
Lately though, a third way of understanding retirement has occured to me: retirement as getting-tired-all-over-again; and who wants to do that? But that is what both of the above kind of retirememts often seem to end up being. The outer circumstances of life may change, but the inner ways of living that made us tired in life the first time around still seem to be in place, and we re-tire; we get tired all over again. As I think about it, I do not want to work toward retirement; I want to work toward untirement--to be untired, not retired.
The life of faith is a course in untirement. When Saul met Jesus on the road to Damascus, he did not retire from being a Pharisee; he untired, and lived the rest of his life in untirement, no matter the degree to which he spent himself physically, emotionally, spiritually. Perhaps we need to be offering a course in unitrement?
Randy
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Who is More Powerful?
I was having coffee with a couple of members this morning at Buon Giournos Coffee Shop. Many interesting persons pass through those doors for good coffee, tea, conversation, atmosphere. One man coming through engaged us in conversation, and before I knew it he was telling us how the current nuclear strategy of the Iranians is no longer missiles but nuclear suicide bombers with lead-coated backpacks to conceal enriched uranium from detection. This way, instead of blowing up and killing a handful of people a bomber might, theoretically, blow up thousands of people and do far more damage than with a conventional bomb. What a nice happy thought.
But it got me to wondering who was truly more powerful in this world: a person with a nuclear bomb strapped to his or her back, or a person with a heart that is full of gratitude? I would argue that it is the latter--that a heart that is full of gratitude is a very powerful force indeed--more powerful than an arsenal of nuclear weapons. A truly grateful people is a truly powerful people. Amen, and Happy Thanksgiving to one and all. RS
But it got me to wondering who was truly more powerful in this world: a person with a nuclear bomb strapped to his or her back, or a person with a heart that is full of gratitude? I would argue that it is the latter--that a heart that is full of gratitude is a very powerful force indeed--more powerful than an arsenal of nuclear weapons. A truly grateful people is a truly powerful people. Amen, and Happy Thanksgiving to one and all. RS
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
A New Day 2
As you know, a day can last for more than 24 hours. When older persons say, 'back in my day...' they are not talking about one particular day, but a period of time. Likewise the new day that began officially at FUMC on November 1st is still with us; it is still a new day, at both campuses, and will be for a while. So, what to talk about in the new day?
I read a story last week about some disputed land--both Navaho and Pueblo tribes claimed it--and during the many years the land was in dispute it was basically closed to both tribes. The thing that most interested me was the tradition, practiced by one or both tribes (I can't rembmeber), that when a baby is born, its umbilical cord is buried in the earth where the birth occured, the idea being that that place was one's home, the place one belonged to and could return to and know one was connected with the souce of one's being. Because of the dispute, many could not return to their homeplace, to the place where their connection to their source of life was buried, to build an actual physical home, as they had done for generations.
This story got me to thinking about where home is for me, and for us. In what land are our umbilical cords buried? For me that land is more of a verb than a noun, an event more than a place: the praise and enjoyment of God in the worshipping community. For we are born out of that loving, life-giving, joy-filled community that is Father, Son and Holy Spirit; to that community we are bound to return. In the praising congregation our umbilical cords are buried, and in the worship of God we are truly at home. In a new day, worship is the fertile land to return to, and upon which to build our house. RS
I read a story last week about some disputed land--both Navaho and Pueblo tribes claimed it--and during the many years the land was in dispute it was basically closed to both tribes. The thing that most interested me was the tradition, practiced by one or both tribes (I can't rembmeber), that when a baby is born, its umbilical cord is buried in the earth where the birth occured, the idea being that that place was one's home, the place one belonged to and could return to and know one was connected with the souce of one's being. Because of the dispute, many could not return to their homeplace, to the place where their connection to their source of life was buried, to build an actual physical home, as they had done for generations.
This story got me to thinking about where home is for me, and for us. In what land are our umbilical cords buried? For me that land is more of a verb than a noun, an event more than a place: the praise and enjoyment of God in the worshipping community. For we are born out of that loving, life-giving, joy-filled community that is Father, Son and Holy Spirit; to that community we are bound to return. In the praising congregation our umbilical cords are buried, and in the worship of God we are truly at home. In a new day, worship is the fertile land to return to, and upon which to build our house. RS
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
A New Day
It is a new day at Heritage, and a new day for the Heritage pastor who has spent this morning setting up his very first blog! Blogging is new territory for me, although not totally new, thanks to Ken Deihm, who has invited me to do his daily devotional blog--10 + 10--while he is away.
So, I set out today. And we set out. It feels good to be on the road. And I know from experience that, while you can imagine what things might be like on the road, thinking about being on the road is not the same as being on the road; something awakens in us once we finally get going, get moving. A quote from Mark Twain comes to mind: 'A man who grabs a cat by the tail learns something he can learn in no other way!' Somethings you can't learn or experience until you get on the road!
We are now a campus, the Heritage Campus of FUMC Grapevine, and there is much that is good about thinking about ourselves in that way, it seems to me. For one thing, Methodism got its energetic start on a campus--the Oxford campus in John Wesley's England. May being a campus help get us back to our roots; and may we grow in all good ways, but especially in grace and in the knowledge of our friend, brother and Lord, Jesus Christ. RS
So, I set out today. And we set out. It feels good to be on the road. And I know from experience that, while you can imagine what things might be like on the road, thinking about being on the road is not the same as being on the road; something awakens in us once we finally get going, get moving. A quote from Mark Twain comes to mind: 'A man who grabs a cat by the tail learns something he can learn in no other way!' Somethings you can't learn or experience until you get on the road!
We are now a campus, the Heritage Campus of FUMC Grapevine, and there is much that is good about thinking about ourselves in that way, it seems to me. For one thing, Methodism got its energetic start on a campus--the Oxford campus in John Wesley's England. May being a campus help get us back to our roots; and may we grow in all good ways, but especially in grace and in the knowledge of our friend, brother and Lord, Jesus Christ. RS
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)