How Can We Keep From Singing?

Sermon based on 2 Samuel 6: 1-5, 12b-19

Preached on July 12, 2009 at South Haven United Church of Christ - Bedford, OH

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There are two pieces that we need to talk about before we tackle today’s reading from 2 Samuel. First, we need to understand what brought us here – we need to understand the events that led up to this triumphant parade. And, second, we need to confront what was omitted from the lectionary today – namely verses 6-12a.

So, how did we get to this parade? Here’s the condensed version. Years before this scene, the Ark of the Covenant had been captured by the Philistines and taken from Israel. The Philistines kept the Ark for about seven months and during that time Dagon, the chief Philistine deity, was left broken and the Philistines were struck with “tumors” (generally thought to be bubonic plague) and began dying. They moved the Ark from city to city – witnessing the same pain inflicted upon their people – until the Philistines finally decided to return the Ark to Israel – first to the people of Beth-she’mesh who ultimately gave it to the people of Kir’i-ath-je’a-rim where it remained. Saul is made king, and during his reign the Ark – the visible symbol of God’s ongoing presence working in their lives – was not part of their national worship.

Cut to the present biblical time – David is king and has achieved a united kingdom, making Jerusalem its capital city. David decides to bring the Ark of the Covenant from Kir’i-ath-je’a-rim to this new capital city making it not only the political center but also the religious center. The crowds are gathering – we are told some 30,000 people – and they went to retrieve the Ark and bring it home. Can you imagine the scene? Thirty thousand people were dancing and singing in joyous praise to God. It was a party in the streets! Can’t you just hear the Kool & The Gang song “Celebration” ringing through the crowd? What a great day it was.

But wait, before we get too wrapped up in the celebration we still have to confront the verses that were left out of this week’s lectionary reading – that’s right, verses 6-12a. Although it may be easier for us to leave them out the store is a lot more dramatic, a lot more suspenseful with them included. In these verses we learn that one of the men who were charged with bringing the Ark home, Uzzah, dies. He doesn’t die of natural causes. That would be too easy. Rather, he is struck dead by God. You see, the oxen who were pulling the cart stumbled and the Ark was about to fall on the ground. Uzzah reached out his hand and grabbed the Ark – preventing it from falling. This angered God. We read that “the anger of the Lord was kindled against Uzzah; and God struck him there because he reached out his hand to the ark; and he died there beside the ark of God.” (2 Sam 7) This act not only infuriated David but it made him fearful as well. And, as a result, he left the Ark at the house of Obed-edom for three months – after which time he eventually returned and joyously brought the Ark to Jerusalem.

There are many different ways this reading in being discussed today in churches that follow the lectionary. Some – quite honestly – are choosing not to discuss Uzzah at all – and simply handle the reading as it was assigned. Some are talking about how Uzzah felt that he was “in charge” of God, that he had put God in a box and felt it was his duty to protect God from the muck of the earth. Some are talking about how Uzzah broke the Mosaic tradition by not “handling” the ark in the proper manner. Uzzah, honestly, can be a complete sermon in and of itself.

It certainly would have been easier for us to not include this part of the story – wouldn’t it? But, including it certainly helps us to paint a much different picture. Instead of simply being a story about the celebratory nature of bringing the Ark home and of people singing and dancing in the streets, we are forced to pause – we are forced to confront the sadness and the anger – we are forced to confront the “messiness” of this beautiful thing we call life.

Do you remember David’s reaction to Uzzah’s death? Here we have a day of celebration and it ends in tragedy. David was angry! I don’t blame him in the least. How could I? Anger, sadness, these are all very human emotions and quite understandable reactions. But, we can’t forget that David didn’t remain angry, he didn’t remain fearful. Quite the contrary – we soon find that David was once again singing and dancing in the streets – praising God’s glory.


My youngest son Thomas’ full name is Thomas Jason James Tamilio. He is named after three very dear friends of my husband John and mine – three dear friends whom we lost in a short span of time. Our friend Tom died on his 33rd birthday of a brain tumor that was discovered two weeks earlier - leaving behind a wife and three month old son. A few short weeks later our friend Jason was killed in a car accident – leaving behind his wife and twin one year old boys. And not long after that our friend Jimmie was killed by two drunk drivers – leaving behind his wife and three children. It was an extremely difficult time. We were angry. I was angry! Yup, I was angry with God. These deaths were senseless. And, although my theology is such that I don’t believe God caused these deaths – I needed to be angry with someone – so God drew the short straw. But, I soon realized something. God took my anger, without reservation, and held it. And in doing so allowed me to see God’s very real presence in the messiness of my life. I could see and I could feel God. I know it seems strange to say but God was in the air. God was in the hands of first responders and doctors. God was in the embrace of friends and strangers. God was in the tears and laughter upon the sharing of treasured memories. God was in the music.

It doesn’t take long, once someone meets me, to learn the important role that music plays in my life and the life of my family. I am a singer, my husband John sings and plays guitar, our daughter Sarah sings and plays violin, and our boys Jay and Thomas not only sing all the time but are expressing an interest in learning to play the drums and guitar. Not only do we love to express ourselves through music, we love listening to music as well – all types. If you were to scan my music collection you would find classic rock, musicals, pop rock, country, reggae, classical, Christian, rap, you name it – I have it. My collection spans the 50’s, 60’s, 70’s, 80’s (which I just recently learned is now classified as “oldies”), 90’s, and present day. Music – whether I am performing, or simply listening to – has a way like nothing else to enter in and touch me at the deepest point of my soul. It can fill me with joy or bring me to tears; it can give me strength or help me find release. It should come as no surprise then that lyrics were once again bouncing around in my head when I read this week’s readings. (I promise, lyrics won’t make their way into every sermon.) Have you heard this song?

My life goes on in endless song
above earth's lamentations,
I hear the real, though far-off hymn
that hails a new creation.

Through all the tumult and the strife
I hear it's music ringing,
It sounds an echo in my soul.
How can I keep from singing?

My friends, life is messy. You know that. We all live in that messiness day in and day out. But let us never forget that God is ready and willing to take our anger, to take our sadness, to take our fears. We will continue to be enveloped and clothed in God’s love. We will continue to see God in the sunrise, in the sunset, in the faces of friends and strangers. Everywhere! So sing with me, dance with me - and let us give thanks to God!

Amen!

The Long and Winding Road

Sermon based on Mark 6: 1-13

Preached on July 5, 2009 at South Haven United Church of Chirst - Bedford, OH

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Well, what are we to make about today’s Gospel reading? Fresh from the simple tasks of healing both a hemorrhaging woman and a little girl who had died; casting demons out of a man; oh, and (not to mention) calming a raging sea, we find Jesus and his followers returning to his hometown – Nazareth. Jesus had been away for a while – unfortunately, his hybrid Prius was in the shop so – other than the occasional boat ride – he and his followers walked from place to place as Jesus preached, taught, and healed. Word was spreading fast about this man from Nazareth. Crowds began surrounding him whenever he entered a new place. People saw, and believed, the power that he had been bestowed with. We should expect then, if strangers understood the enormity of this person named Jesus, then of course the people of Nazareth understood it as well. Surely, his journey back to Nazareth would prompt a celebration – a parade down Main St. – in honor of his return.

That, however, was not the case. There were no balloons, no marching bands, there were no people lining up for miles to get a glimpse of this hometown hero. Jesus did get a reaction from the people of Nazareth, though just not the kind of reaction we would expect. Mark tells us that on the Sabbath Jesus began to teach in the synagogue – much to the astonishment and offense of those gathered. They were astonished and offended that a simple carpenter, the son of Mary (which, if you didn’t pick up on it, was a way to put him down by not identifying him as his father’s son) - they were astonished and offended that he had the audacity to say and do the things he was doing. Mark explains that Jesus was amazed at their unbelief.

How could he not be? For quite some time people who didn’t even know him trusted and believed in him. He had a group of people who left their homes, their jobs, and their families to follow him all over Galilee for goodness sake. Not even Lebron James has that kind of following. I can just picture the scene – Jesus sitting on a rock with his head in his hand, shaking it back and forth – trying to understand how even his friends and family didn’t have faith in him. The situation would be enough to discourage anyone – wouldn’t it? But, it didn’t discourage Jesus. On the contrary - he continued to travel around the villages teaching and then decided it was time to send the twelve disciples out, two by two. He granted them authority to cast out demons, and we see by their activity that they also healed and preached repentance. The disciples were given strict instructions about what they were, and were not to do, once they arrived where they were going.

Many people, when faced with today’s lectionary Gospel reading, decide to preach on either the first or the second half of the reading. I can understand why – as we have seen it is easily divided into two very preach-able stories: the rejection of Jesus by his own community or the sending out of the twelve. I have to say I was tempted to do the same. But, I think simply selecting one story over the other diminishes the power of the two combined. By keeping the focus on the entire lectionary passage we are blessed with a fuller understanding of the message the evangelist was trying to convey. By keeping the focus on the entire lectionary passage we can travel down the road of all that was said and all that was left unsaid.

What must it have been like for the disciples – this band of misfit twelve – when Jesus called them to gather around and proceeded to inform them that he was sending them off, in pairs, to further the mission? “Are you kidding me? Jesus, no offense intended, but we just saw how your own hometown turned away from you and you think we can further the mission? Do you really think people will listen to us?” What must they have felt when they learned that not only did they not even have to pack a suitcase to bring with them, they had to leave their wallets and ATM cards behind and they had to depend on the hospitality of strangers? “What do you mean we have to stay at the first home that welcomes us? Seriously? What if we find better accommodations after we have been there for a while? Come on, we have an image to uphold!” And, can you imagine their surprise when Jesus told each pair which towns they were going to? Oh, wait . . . .

That’s right, Jesus sent them off – two by two, with nothing but a staff and the clothes on their backs – without giving them the most important direction of all. “Where are we supposed to go?” Can you imagine the pit they must have felt in the bottom of their stomachs? Can you imagine how alone they must have felt?

That feeling isn’t foreign, is it? Haven’t there been times that each one of us has felt like we were on a long and winding road – not really sure where we were headed? Haven’t there been times that each one of us has felt that pit in the bottom of our stomachs? I know I have felt it. That road comes in many forms. For some it is the loss of a loved one. For some it is the uncertainty of whether a job will be waiting for them tomorrow. For some it is the pains of addiction. For some it is wondering where the next meal, or warm shower, or bed will be. For some it is a loss of faith. For some it is the decision to leave familiar lands – leaving friends and family behind – in search of new adventures. For some it is the decision to answer a call to ministry, healthcare, or teaching later in life. The list could go on and on. The roads are vast. Some are bumpy, some are smooth. There are peaks and there are valleys. There are twists and turns. But, are we on these roads alone? It can feel that way sometimes, can’t it?

Let us turn our eyes back to the text for a moment – back to the disciples as they were receiving Jesus’ directions. Yes, we can imagine that the disciples would have felt alone as they prepared to travel on that uncertain path. But let us not forget how Jesus sent the disciples out – two by two. He sent them out knowing that, although not everyone would welcome them, they would, ultimately, find hospitality. He sent them out as a community, into community, which resulted in creating a bigger and stronger community. We are benefactors of this mission. Through Christ’s mission we are inherently immersed in community. But, let us not forget that through the Church we are both called to participate in and create community. We are called to spread the message of God’s radically inclusive love. We are called to walk alongside our brothers and sisters ensuring that they are never alone. We are called to carry each other during times of struggle and to laugh with one another during times of joy. We are called to be a listening ear and a welcoming embrace.

Although I only officially started at South Haven this past week I have already been witness to some of the many ways this community is walking the long and winding road with others. From the Hunger Center that is housed in the basement of the church and the Meals on Wheels that are sent out from the kitchen and fellowship hall; to the youth mission trip; to the listening ears and warm embraces I witnessed on the Sunday I had the privilege to attend worship here – South Haven is actively living into Christ’s mission. South Haven, United Church of Christ – is walking the long and winding road with those inside these walls as well as those outside.

When I read today’s selection from Mark’s gospel earlier this week a song immediately began ringing in my head. Can you guess what it was? I’ll give you three guesses. (If you need a hint – just look at the sermon title.) Although the song is most definitely speaking of another issue, that fact didn’t stop me from being haunted by the lyrics.

The long and winding road

That leads to your door

Will never disappear

I've seen that road before

It always leads me here

Lead me to your door.

Many times I've been alone

And many times I've cried,

Anyway you've always known

The many ways I've tried.

And still they lead me back

To the long, winding road

You left me standing here

A long, long time ago

Don't leave me standing here

Lead me to your door.

Where is your long and winding road leading you? Look around. We are all walking with you. We will carry you when you need it. We will be the listening ear, the warm embrace, or the place to simply laugh or cry. We are community. And, that community is not contained by walls. Let us not leave anyone standing there – let us continue walk with them showing them the door of God’s love.

Amen!

Today I saw the face of God . . .

I am currently taking a course on the 14th century English mystic Julian of Norwich. One of the many requirements for the course is a project – practical or creative. As fulfillment of this requirement, one of my classmates designed a day long retreat focusing on themes present in Julian’s work. The retreat occurred today.

Although I would normally have already made the two hour drive back home (after spending four nights on campus) I decided to stay on campus for the day long retreat. Actually, I didn’t even hesitate when I heard it was happening. I simply signed up knowing that I needed to be there. Yes, I have mountains of papers to finish writing (five to be exact) , tons of reading and research to do, a final to prepare for and, yes, yet another creative project – all due at some point in the next two weeks. But, again, I knew I needed to be at the retreat – if only for some renewal and rejuvenation.

So, I went, I registered, I gathered with other attendees and we began the journey. For the most part the pattern of the day was the same – we were presented with something to reflect upon, we spent time reflecting and journaling, and then we shared our thoughts with the group if we felt so moved. Quite often discussions evolved as a result of participants building and reflecting upon the thoughts of others.

One of the themes that runs through Julian’s writing is the image not only of God as Father but also of God as Mother, of Jesus as our mother – of humanity being birthed by God’s never ending love for us. This was the first theme we explored. As part of the exploration we were told that God said to Julian (and says to us) . . .

I love you . . .
And, you love me . . .
And our love will never be divided in two.

What power, what holy liberating power there is in that simple statement. I love you. And you love me. And our love will never be divided in two. How many of us forget this? How many of us think ourselves unworthy of such love? Our homes, our churches, and our communities (local and global) are all filled with people longing to know such love. This is the line that people need to embroider on their hearts. Nothing, NOTHING will separate us from the love that God has for us. NOTHING will separate me from the love that God has for me. No matter how many times I may fall, or fail, God lifts me up, holds me, and repeats those simply powerful words. God does that for us all!

Wow! Such a short time into the retreat and already I am emotional, already I have so much to process. Thank goodness it was time for a break. The group headed out for refreshments, bathroom breaks and conversation. There were people who had known each other for years and people who had known each other for minutes. But conversations occurred until we gathered once again in silence.

When we returned we reflected on a passage from Julian’s revelations where God tells her:

I will make all things well,
I shall make all things well,
I may make all things well,
I can make all things well;
and you will see that yourself,
that all things will be well.

I first heard those words a couple years ago when I was introduced to Julian’s Showings and I remember, initially, thinking how trivial those words were. When another person would say such things my immediate reaction was to think “How can you say that? Don’t you know what I am going through? Don’t you know the pain I am feeling?” Which, of course, I knew the answer was “No!” Of course they can’t know. But reflecting on those words today (and throughout this semester) I realized that what Julian is sharing with humanity, sharing with me, is coming from God! God knows us to our core, God feels the pain we feel, and God comforts us in that pain. God reminds us that we are loved. It is not trivial. God came into humanity to walk with us. God suffered on the cross not because of us but so God could take suffering into God’s self. God tells us that all will be well because God knows it to be true. No, God can’t magically take away our financial struggles, God can’t write our papers for us, but God loves us as no one ever has or ever will.

And then it happened . . .

During our sharing time the woman sitting to my left began to share. She told the group how during the first part of the retreat she was feeling incredibly disconnected, feeling as if she were outside of the group. She was having a difficult time with the Mother images of God. She had been raised in a fundamentalist church so thinking of God in any way other than Father was extremely difficult. She shared with the group that when she went out to the break she was able to talk with a beautiful person (oh my goodness, her hand is on my shoulder) who was willing to openly, lovingly, honestly share her thoughts on language referring to God while also affirming the importance of people to find language that they are comfortable with. It’s all about being able to connect with God. During the conversation another beautiful person (who had not been privy to what was being discussed) came over, put her around her and asked the simple question “How are you?” She felt more connected. When we again gathered as a group and she heard the words all will be well she knew that God was speaking to her. And, at that moment, when she put her hand on my shoulder and looked into my eyes, I knew that God was speaking to me.

We are on a journey together, all of us. Whether we have met each other or not we are journeying together nonetheless. We are different, we are at different points on our faith journey, but we are on the same road. At times we may feel all alone but then the road curves and we are met by a fellow traveler who, without realizing it, gives us peace, comfort, and strength to carry on. We are all different but we have so much to offer each other, if we would only be vulnerable enough to share with one another, and especially be vulnerable enough to listen, to truly listen.

I consider myself to be an inclusive person – but to be truly inclusive means that I must include those with whom I disagree. God is radically inclusive. If I am truly created in the image of God (imago dei) then I too must live into that radical inclusivity. God (the triune God) is wrapping me with loving arms, drawing me in. But God isn’t only drawing me in, God is drawing everyone in - putting all of us together with all our differences and weaving the most beautiful tapestry. It is not complete without each and every one of us and all our differences.

So, here I sit, here I pray – thankful for God’s not so gentle reminder that I am called to share, I am called to listen, I am called to community, I am called to radical inclusivity. In that radical inclusivity I will learn, I will grow, I will heal. In that radical inclusivity I just may touch the life of another. In that radical inclusivity my life just may be touched by another. I can hold different views from someone and I can affirm the value of their thoughts. I can be in discussion, not with the purpose of change but with the purpose of understanding, with the purpose of joining someone on some point of their journey.

God works in mysterious ways. Sometimes we are transformed in the most unlikely of encounters. I hope and pray that we all remain open to the ways that God is speaking to us – and in those encounters we are reminded once more that we are loved, we are reminded that nothing will separate that love, we are reminded that all will be well, and we see God's face smiling back at us as we are joined on our journey.

Leaving the Sandbox

When I first entered seminary, two people whom I love dearly – my husband John and our friend Jeff, both United Church of Christ (UCC) ministers – gave me incredible amounts of advice about what I could expect:

- Be ready, one day when you are reading or are in class, something you wholeheartedly believe will get turned upside down. This isn’t necessarily bad – it’s just going to happen. Check!

- Be ready to learn a brand new way of writing. (Both John and Jeff had Masters Degrees in English prior to entering seminary – I took their word on it.) Check!

- Be ready to read more that any human possibly can and still lead a productive life. Check!

- Be ready . . . .

Every piece of advice that they gave me was right on. They didn’t offer suggestions about how to handle such things, they were just preparing me to get ready. The past couple of weeks I have realized that there was one thing they did not prepare me for – the number of times that something I am reading, or hearing, will immediately cause something to stir within my soul, positively and negatively. Quite often what caused the stir would seem to be fairly incidental – something that really doesn’t require much thought. But still I am stirred, and sometimes shaken. At times I am able to process the thoughts by talking with friends and classmates. Other times, however, I can’t find the exact words to describe what I am thinking or feeling and I need to write . . .

This is one of those times.

While preparing for one of my classes I read a one page article that discussed United Church of Christ (UCC) polity. (Polity, for those who are not immersed in the lingo refers to forms of church government. And, for all my non-UCC friends who understand polity – YES, the UCC has a polity.) Briefly put, the polity of the UCC goes like this – there are four representations of the UCC (local church, association, conference, national setting) and no one entity can tell another entity what it can or cannot do. Each church decides what works for them. Other entities can make recommendations but churches do not need to accept them – they are just asked to prayerfully consider them. All entities within the UCC are bound in covenant with one another. We are called into a relationship of reciprocal love, support, and care. (OK – I know that is really simplistic but it gets to the heart of it.)

In this article titled God Does Not Coerce, God Invites I was struck by three statements in particular:

“God invites and does not coerce a people to be in covenant with God and each other.”

“Every unit of the church . . . while in covenant with the other units, has a non-transferable responsibility to discern and respond to the call of God to it – God’s will and way for it – in its time and place.”

“Hospitality is crucial given the multifaceted presence of diversity within the unity of the body of Christ. Instead of “you can’t tell me,” hospitality looks forward to considering and learning from and with each other.”

Now, yes, this article is specifically referring to UCC polity but I cannot help but think about how these statements apply to the big “C” church – the Church universal. As members of any church we are called into covenant with God and with each other. Each church needs to discern how they are being called to respond to the needs of the world. And, we need to understand that there will be great diversity in thought and action and we should remain open to all we can learn from others.

Pretty simple, huh? I wish it were. I see far too many examples of people (and churches) picking up their toys and leaving the sandbox. Things get difficult, and people leave. Or, things simply don’t go exactly how they want them to and they leave. I know this, too, is a simplistic description of the problem, but, you know what I am referring to, right?

How have we gotten here? How have we become a society that would rather leave than to talk through the difficult stuff. How has society learned that it is more beneficial to retreat than to sit and talk and learn. I know it is human nature for us to surround ourselves with people who think like us but, if that is all we do, how can we grow? If all we end up doing is sitting and agreeing with each other how do we expand our horizons? Some of my best insights on topics have come from discussing them with people that do not agree with me. But, I have had to work at the art of coming to the discussion with an open mind, ready to hear pieces of wisdom. If I want to be listened to, then I first must listen.

How can we change this reality? Can it be changed? Can we help people learn the art of listening? Can we help people learn the art of mutuality? Can we help people learn that it is okay to disagree without needing to leave? Can we help people see the beauty in being pushed beyond our self-made comfort zones? Can we help people see that by being open to hearing another view point (especially one that we do not agree with) we just may gain more insight on God’s will for us?

Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone.
Colossians 4:6

Grace is a good place to start.

First Reactions

For the past two days television news programs and other news services have been all a-buzz about the newest singing sensation from Brittain's Got Talent - her name is Susan Boyle. She has the most amazing voice. If you have been hiding under a rock and have not yet seen her performance you have to take the time to watch it. Right now! Click the link below. Don't worry, I'll be here when you get back.

Watch Susan Boyle Sing

See what I mean? Wasn't she amazing? I wish I had one ounce of that singing voice. But, her voice isn't what has been gnawing at me from the first moment I watched the video. Did you notice the initial reaction from the judges and from the audience? Susan walked on stage and immediately snickers could be heard. No one, not even the judges, attempted to hide their mocking. Some actually showed disgust that she was on stage. It was as if they were saying that this woman wasn't worth anything.

Why?

Why would she not be worth anything? Why would they assume that she did not have any talent? Is it because she did not look the part? Hmmm - she was dressed very nicely, walked calmly onto the stage and, like anyone else in her position as a contestant on a show, nervously answered the questions posed to her. Even the judges admitted that the audience was laughing at her when she came out, that everyone was against her.

Again, I ask, why?

Why is it that we are so quick to judge people based on our first reactions, our first impressions? Why is it that we are so quick to judge anyone at all? Why is it that we are so quick to mock our fellow brothers and sisters? Isn't there enough pain and suffering in the world? Why is it that we are so quick to inflict pain on others? (Hmmm - you may be saying I don't inflict pain on anyone. I ask you this - have you ever joked or made snide comments about how someone looks, talks, dresses, acts, etc? Don't you think those things cause pain?)

This has been something that has been bothering me for a long time. Maybe it has been on my mind because of the deluge of Reality TV shows that feed society's need to place itself at least one step above others. Maybe it has been on my mind because so many people have the need to make others feel bad in order to feel good about themselves.

Now, I need to insert a quick note. I am not trying to be holier-than-thou with this post. I have been as guilty as anyone else - it's human nature, everyone has done something like this at least once in their life. I haven't seen an official study on the matter but my gut is telling me I am probably right.

That said, I have, for a very long time, been trying to halt my instinctive first reactions , my first impressions, and get to know people for who they are - not judge them and classify them in any way. If I truly believe that each and everyone of us is made in the image of God (and I do) then we are all made beautiful. By our very nature we are beautiful. By our very nature we are loved. Watching the video of Susan Boyle that very first time I saw an extremely beautiful woman. She exuded warmth, gentleness, hope, and love. She was following a dream she had been dreaming for 35 years - since she was 12 years old. She had never before been given the chance to pursue her dream. What an absolute shame that is - the world was robbed of all the beautiful music she could have been making.

Then God said, "Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness."
Genesis 1:26, NRSV

God is love,
God is grace,
God is hope,
God is reconciliation,
God is redemption,
God is . . . .

My hope is that we all start living into the reality that we are created in the image of God. And, more importantly, my hope is that we will take the time to recognize that everyone is created in God's image. I hope we will all make a very real attempt to pause our first reactions, our first impressions, (and maybe even second, third . . .) and get to know people for who they are. We just may see the beauty in everyone and the amazing gifts that they have to offer the world. Can you imagine what our world would look like? Can you imaging what our world would be like? We just may get a glimpse of heaven.

The Journey Begins . . .

Or, at least, this phase of the journey begins.....

I sit here, at my computer, in the wee hours of the day we celebrate the empty tomb, imagining the women who discovered the entrance -

open,
stone rolled away,
Jesus . . . . gone!

I can only imagine the miriad of questions, the anguish, the fear, that was felt on this day over 2000 years ago. I find myself asking:

Did they not remember the words he had told them?
Did they truly believe that the story would end with the theft of a body?
How could they not, after all the time they spent with him, believe?
Where was their faith?

Hmmm - hindsight is always 20/20, isn't it? Of course (I tell myself in a pretty puffed up tone) I would have recognized that what Jesus told his followers, what Jesus told me, was being fulfilled. However, as I reflect upon this scene, I find myself asking - truly, would I have been any different? Would I have been filled with any fewer questions? Would I have been filled with any less fear? I don't think so.

I think the account of the women's reaction at the empty tomb is teaching us that questioning is okay - that in our questioning, in our apparent disbelief, we eventually live into the truth. I think that questioning is a very real and valid part of life, and, of faith. I recently read the following quote by German poet Rainer Maria Rilke:

"I beg you . . . to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves . . . And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps, then, someday in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answers."

We should not be afraid to question. We should not be afraid to wrestle with things that don't make sense, and sometimes, with things that do make sense. Questioning does not make us any less of a person, Christian, spouse/partner, parent, sibling, child, friend, citizen . . . . the list could go on forever. Questioning is healthy, questioning helps us grow.

So - this is where this phase of my journey beings . . . in the wee wee hours of Easter morn, discovering the empty tomb, and pondering. I am living the quesitons and hoping, someday, I just may live my way into some of the answers.