Notes From Jon

Each Advent, our home, like many other homes in our small town, is decorated for the season.  And that decoration includes lights.  Some homes have thousands of lights spread across their yards, floodlights lighting the front door, and Christmas trees blazing in the windows.  Others (like ours) have a few lights, or maybe no lights at all outside, but the glow of a Christmas tree warms a few windows.

Then there are the window candles.  We didn’t do this until we moved to Kenbridge, but it’s become one of our favorite decorations – candles in the window, symbolically inviting the Holy Family to find shelter here:  “There may not be room in the inn, but I have room for you!”  Every tucked-away electrical outlet finds its annual purpose, and our windows shine with welcoming light throughout the night.  I can see and feel their warmth as I’m coming home in the evening, or during my morning walk before the sun rises.

There are times, though, when the light gets out of hand.  What is warm and welcoming outside becomes an uncomfortable burden inside.  Like when we notice the bright new addition to our monthly power bill.  Or when we have to make an unexpected trip to the store to get those tiny (but expensive) light bulbs.  Or when it’s time to leave for a trip, and we have to find all those tucked-away outlets again to unplug the lights.  For someone like me, who sometimes has a hard time falling asleep, the extra bright lights in our normally-darkened bedroom windows make it difficult to tune out the world.  For someone like Tanya, who loves a clean and tidy house, the extra lights at nighttime take away one of the merits of nighttime – the short-lived illusion that everything’s as tidy as it should be.

Sometimes it’s enough to make you want to pull the plugs on the things!

We welcome the warm glow of the Light of Christ at Christmas time.  How special this season is, how nostalgic and moving!  But when it comes to letting the Light of Christ into our lives – into all the parts of our lives – things get a little more complicated.  And why?  Because the light that started off as a warm glow from the darkness of a stable, became an almost unbearable brilliance from the darkness of a tomb.

The light can be costly at times, asking us to give things up.  In some strange way, the Light requires that we keep opening doors and windows into new and painful areas.  Like a floodlight, that Light finds its way into even the darkest rooms of our hearts, and shows us things we’d rather not be reminded of.  Sometimes its brightness keeps us awake, spurring us to thought or action at times we’d rather be resting.

“There may not be room in the inn, but I have room for you!” we say.  “Once Christmas is over, though, you’ll need to leave – or at least you’ll need to move into the back bedroom before you get too bright.”

But no matter the cost, the Light heals and frees us, the Light makes us whole.

Oh Jesus, Light of the World, bring your Light into my heart this day.  Let the Light find me out, in spite of myself.  Let it show me the things that need fixing, remind me that things are not as tidy as they should be, spur me to action at times when I’d rather be resting.  And let its brightness consume all the darkness that is in me, until all that’s left is the Light.

I still remember.

I still remember, and I’m sure that I’ll ever forget, where I was on that fateful Tuesday morning in September 2001.

I still remember the images and sounds, as if I had just been there this morning:  smoke billowing from buildings;  shaky footage of people running from what looked to be a solid wall of dust and debris;  reporters frantically switching between New York and Washington, trying to make sense out of the chaos.

I still remember the tears, the looks on people’s faces as they watched the terrible events unfold.

I still remember the words of disbelief I heard that morning, echoed in my own mind.  “This looks like a movie…” “It can’t be really happening.”  “Maybe it’s some kind of hoax.”

I still remember how the realization gradually settled in that this was really happening.  And I remember the feeling in the pit of my stomach – sorrow, anger, fear.

Little as we want to admit it, that group of men accomplished their goal that September morning.  Their goal was not simply to fly planes into buildings and kill lots of people.  At least one set of hijackers ended up in a field in Pennsylvania.  But simply killing lots of people was not their goal.

Their goal was that of all terrorists – to plant terror in people’s hearts.  To create panic and fear so deep that it changes the way we look at things, the way we think about things, the way we live.  Anyone who flew on an airplane before 9-11, and has flown since, can attest to the simple fact that all these things have changed for us.

I still remember, and I’m sure you do too.  How could we ever forget?

But I still remember other things, too.

I still remember the awed voices of reporters, as new videos showed men and women rushing back to Ground Zero to help anyone they could.

I remember the litanies of fallen heroes, and photos snapped of their lives before the tragic day – firefighters, police, ordinary people.  A group of passengers who courageously took matters into their own hands.

I still remember the images of bright lights cutting through the darkness so volunteers could continue the search for survivors throughout those long nights.

I still remember watching with pride and approval as local, state and national governments worked swiftly to respond to the crisis.

I still remember being amazed how tiny towns, cities, small businesses and large corporations came together in those few days to do amazing things – providing care for victims and families; feeding the many workers who tirelessly dug through the rubble; giving shelter and food to millions of passengers whose flights had been displaced.

Our divided nation came together that day, as the world gathered around us.  We put aside our differences for a time – black, white, Hispanic, Asian, Republican, Democrat, Libertarian, Christian, Muslim, Jewish, pro-life, pro-choice.  Finger-pointing was put on hold.  Congresses passed new legislation quickly and efficiently.  For those few days and weeks following the attacks, we were the United States of America.

For the first time in my young life, I was proud to be an American citizen.  I was proud to see how my country could come together to meet the challenges  before us.  I was proud of our president and the many leaders who stepped up and did what was right in a difficult time.

The spirit of those times was astounding and comforting.  For once, we could clearly see God’s hand at work in a powerful way.

And I wonder… where is that country now?  Where is that spirit?

I’m not talking about all the current controversies and issues today.  Do we need healthcare reform, and what should we do about it?  Whose fault is the state of the economy, and how can we fix it?  What laws should we have about divisive matters like abortion, immigration, and gay rights, and how can we ever find a balance?  These are certainly important questions and decisions, but there’s an American spirit that has transcended those kinds of things in the past.

I’m talking about the spirit that brings us together in the face of challenges.  It’s the spirit that brought us together then, and in many other crucial times in our nation’s history.  It’s a spirit that assigns value, not blame.  A spirit that points out needs, not fault.  A spirit that puts aside differences, not friendships.  A spirit that seeks the good of the other, not the good of the self.  A spirit that values brotherhood above borders.  A spirit that seeks to build, not destroy.  A spirit of reconciliation, not divorce.

We’re a melting pot, for sure.  We will always have differences of religion, cultures, philosophy, morals, and values.  Since the earliest settlers first set foot on these shores, that’s the kind of place this has been.  We’ve seen the spirit that can divide us because of our differences, but we’ve also known a spirit that can rise above all that.  It’s the spirit that brought us together to fight for our freedom, and that drew us through contention to unite into a nation.

Who says this other spirit has to be the status quo?  Who says we have to wait for tragedies like 9-11 or Hurricane Katrina to bring out the true spirit of America?

I still remember.

I remember the spirit that has driven us toward greater things.  And I think that together, you and I might just be able to bring it back.

Just posted a sermon on the KBC website that I particularly enjoyed doing last Sunday.  I’ve been putting up the occasional sermon there when I have time.

This sermon was inspired by my own experiences here in a rural community – a big shift for me.  It was also brought on by a good friend – a farmer – who passed away last week.

Here’s the link:  http://www.kenbridgebaptist.org/2009/09/sermon-the-seeds-august-30-2009/

I still vividly remember the first thing I noticed as the difference between Catholics and Protestants: the cross.  The first time I every really took time to appreciate and reflect on a Catholic cathedral, I noticed so many differences between their worship spaces and the ones I grew up in.  But the main thing that kept drawing my attention was the crucifix.  There, the crucified Christ was portrayed in vivid and – in some cases – even revolting detail.  Our Protestant crosses are, well… empty.

My seminary experience gave me some perspective on this.  As Protestants, we focus on Christus Victor – the Victorious Christ, the Risen Lord who is victorious over death and sin.  This is the lowly Carpenter’s Son who would soon resume his place as the King of Creation.  All this earthly stuff – death, suffering, crying, blood, hunger and thirst – all those things would soon be washed away in the glory of Easter.  It’s certainly a wonderful thing to celebrate!

But Catholic theology places much focus on the Incarnate Christ.  This is the Jesus who was living and breathing, the Christ who was both Divine and human, but who chose for this time to allow his human side to show clearly.  This is the Christ we can identify with – our High Priest, as the writer of Hebrews points out, who has experienced life as we did.

This is Emmanuel, the God-With-Us who is still with us in every part of life – not just the victorious parts.  This is the Christ who is with us in our moments of sorrow (remember what Jesus did when his good buddy Lazarus died?), hunger and thirst, doubt (”My God, my God…”), and even fear and reluctance to do God’s will (”If it is possible, let this cup pass from me…”).

And yet we Protestants rush past these embarrassing moments of weakness – Good Friday is not a place to stop, certainly.  It’s only a speed bump on the way to Easter.  Let’s not worry about Good Friday, and not talk about the cross without talking about the empty tomb as well…  And by making the crucifixion a speed bump, by focusing on how Easter will make a difference in the life to come, we skip over the very thing about Jesus that will make a difference in the here and now.

Is it any wonder that we, as Protestants, have a hard time coming to grips with the bad things that happen to us?  Is it any wonder that we’re embarrassed by things like depression, doubt, and suffering?  We can’t excuse them, and we can’t see God in them, so we choose to gloss them over by saying things like, “God has a plan,” or some such saying – true, but pithy – that makes light of the present circumstances in favor of what’s to come.

While the fact is, it is in precisely these times that Jesus draws as close to us as he will ever be this side of eternity.

In The Rainbow, D.H. Lawrence wrote, “Is the flesh which was crucified become as poison to the crowds in the street, or is it as a strong gladness and hope to them, as the first flower blossoming out of the earth’s humus?”

A few days ago, the girls and I planted some peanuts in a pot so that we can watch them grow in the weeks ahead.  Already, we’re seeing little sprouts pop up out of the dirt, and it’s exciting to think what they’ll become!  Even now, Abigail’s talks excitedly about eating the peanuts we’ll supposedly grow…

But to get to that exciting time someday soon, I knew better than they did what kinds of things would be required.  Watering, watching and waiting.  Trying to keep the pot away from probing fingers until the plant is strong enough to withstand the exploration of a three-year-old.  And of course, there’s that inevitable moment when we had to get our hands dirty and put those shriveled seeds into the soil.  To me, that was a special moment – and no matter what the peanut plants do (and knowing my luck with plants, they’ll probably die), I think I’ll long remember sitting in the floor with my girls, my hands wet and dirty, smelling the earth.

“… or is it as a strong gladness and hope to them, as the first flower blossoming out of the earth’s humus?”

Are we willing to linger on Good Friday?  Are we willing to stay here long enough, in the dark sadness, to let its lessons seep into our souls and do us some good?  May God grant us peace to linger here, by the crucified Christ, so that we may better understand what was required to make that Easter morning possible.

Yesterday was Maundy Thursday, the day we celebrate the last Passover meal Jesus shared with his disciples and instituted the “Lord’s Supper.”  Last night, our church family gathered around tables in our fellowship hall.  We ate dinner together – potluck – and then the lights were dimmed.  We celebrated communion together around those tables:  a traditional ritual done in a very untraditional way.

I have been forced to rethink and clarify my ideas about Maundy Thursday and communion this year, for various reasons.  And I’m wondering if this might not be more what that original communion was like.  We’ve made communion such a somber thing – meditative, deathly silent, ritualistic.  But that night was a celebration – it was Passover, the all-important festival in the Jewish year, an occasion for family and friends to commemorate and celebrate.

The disciples had no clue what was coming in the hours ahead.  As well as serious moments – like Jesus washing their feet, for instance – I can only imagine there was also laughter, singing, and memories shared.

In retrospect you and I can understand what Jesus meant by “this is my body,” and “this is my blood.”  But the disciples were probably confused – or perhaps it held a different kind of meaning to them.  They’d been hearing Jesus talk about his death for a while, and it made them uncomfortable.  By now, they might even have been rolling their eyes – “there he goes, talking about dying again…”

For all they knew, this night Jesus was doing something traditional – the Passover meal – and something different alongside it.  Something different, and something special.  And the key phrase that most of the Gospels record of the evening was “remember me.”

When I first started looking at this and preparing for our Maundy service, I heard “remember me,” and I thought of how we often shield children – or even grownups at times – from seeing someone who is deathly ill, someone who has sustained serious injuries, or someone who has died.  We justify it by saying something like, “We don’t want them to remember her like this.”

I admit that to some extent it’s irrational – as if people were two-dimensional photos, and like a good photographer we could choose the perfect setting to capture them in, and discard the rest.  But I see the value in it.  After all, I think we all try this kind of “snapshotting” when we interact with others.  We want to leave a certain impression with people, so we act a certain way or say certain things – we try to control the way they will “remember us,” though we’d never use those terms.

So I think it’s significant the moment that Jesus asked his disciples to “remember him.”  It wasn’t when he was hanging on the cross, struggling for breath as he died for their sins.  It wasn’t after he was raised from the dead, proving that he was alive.  It wasn’t in the midst of his greatest miracles – feeding thousands, walking on water, healing the sick.

No, Jesus knew his followers would remember those times without fail.  But in this time, in this setting that was ordinary compared to the exciting things they’d experienced with their Master, Jesus asked them to remember him.  Sharing a meal together.  Laughing and sharing memories around the table.  Keeping the old Passover traditions alive and meaningful.  As a brother, a close friend who loved them so much he was willing to wash their feet.

That was the snapshot Jesus wanted to capture.  That was the moment he wanted them to remember for years – and centuries – to come.

So when we sit around the table and enjoy our fellowship together, when we share a meal together in our churches or our homes, when we work together to bring our traditions and rituals to new life and meaning, when we serve one another, when we share each other’s joys and sorrows as friends…

When we do these things, we are as close to Jesus as we ever are.  When we do those things, it’s a perfect time to remember Jesus.  When we do those things, Jesus is there among us, laughing and crying, sharing joy and sorrow.

Top Billing

We’ve all seen movie posters.  They tell us everything we need to know about a movie that’s coming – trying to entice you to pay $10 to sit in a theater and watch it.  They use clever graphics, descriptive fonts, and subtly faded portraits of the main actors to sum up the story in one snapshot.

Most posters have words of some kind.  And you can tell what’s important by how big the words are.  Most modern movie posters have the name of the movie in huge letters.  Next smallest are the key stars – the ones who get the top billing.  Then are the “other” stars.  Finally, in itty-bitty print at the bottom of the page… everyone else.

That’s now.  But do you remember back in the day, what was the main draw on movie posters?  The lead actor and/or actress.  Nowadays, you go see a movie because you read the book, or because the topic is intriguing to you.  But once, you went to see movie stars!

Do you remember what those movie posters looked like?  The star’s name in BIG LETTERS – sometimes bigger than the title of the movie.

Here’s a ridiculous thought – what if you saw a movie poster this week that had JON PARKS in big bright letters!  “Who’s that guy??” people would ask.  Oh, he’s just an extra.  Do you think people would go to see the movie then?

So now it’s time to wrap up this series on Romans.  But as we do, I think it’s worth looking back over the whole book to make sure we understand Paul’s big points.  We don’t want to “major on the minors,” get things out of order.  So let’s walk through what we’ve learned from Romans, chapter by chapter:

1. God has reason to be angry at human beings, who have been sinful.  We can’t claim ignorance – we know God is real and what he asks of us, but we still disobey.

2. Therefore, we have only one judge – God.  We cannot judge each other because we have all sinned and we are all sinful.  There is no place for division because of the quantity or quality of sin.

3. We can do nothing, by our own actions, to draw closer to God.  So God has chosen to draw closer to us, and to allow our FAITH to be counted as righteousness (rather than our careful observance of the Law).

4-7. Once we were slaves to sin and to the Law.  But God has freed us to choose whom we will serve.  But even then, we still fall short.

8.   So Christ makes up the difference.  His work and his death allow us to be adopted as God’s children, and for our sins to be covered.  God has done this – nothing can undo it.

9-11. Since all human beings are sinful, all are in need of redemption.  And God has chosen to use US as his way of spreading the good news!

12-13.  Our lives therefore should be lived totally in God’s service, no matter what we are doing.  Our conduct, both within the Body and without, should fulfill the Law of Love.

14-15.  The burden is upon us to live at peace with each other.  If someone disagrees with us, we can’t use that disagreement to justify division and fighting.  Rather, we must take all efforts to live in love and harmony with each other.  And this is not for our sakes, but so that God may be glorified by the way we live.

Paul covers the sweep of human history and God’s work.  And lest we put the wrong name in big letters, it’s important to see whom Paul recognizes as the big star in this story.

GOD

It’s so simple, you say.  But the fact is, we tend to put ourselves at the center of the world.  We start off this way as children – after all, for the first year of our lives or more, we’re not even aware that anyone else really exists.  But that tendency doesn’t stop with infancy.  Even in our spiritual lives today, we try to put ourselves at the center of God’s universe.

• We think, “why should I do anything for God?”
• “How does this make a difference for ME?”
• “Why does God ask so much of ME?”
• “Sure God did all this, but what has he done for ME lately?”
• Or, we look at all the things God has done, and we say:
  • Look at everything God has done, just for ME!
  • We make the story of redemption about “God and me.”
  • The buddy-buddy mentality, so focused on our own personal relationship.

It’s good to remember that God loves you and me personally – that’s wonderful news!  But I think sometimes we take this too far and begin to see ourselves as the whole reason God exists.  As if the reason God existed at all was to create us, to save us when we messed up, and to build our mansion in glory when we pass on.

Do you see how wrong this is?  Do you see how human-centered that understanding is?  Sure, I’m exaggerating things, but isn’t it true that we often put ourselves higher than we should?

A glance over the whole book of Romans gives us a different picture.

WE are not at the center of the universe.  GOD is.

WE did not choose God.  GOD chose us.

WE could not bridge the gap that came between us and God.  But GOD could overcome it.

WE do not do the work to save ourselves.  GOD does.

WE do not have the power even now to live the lives he asks of us.  But GOD gives us that power.

As we finish this look at the Letter to the Romans, I hope that we are not as impressed by Paul’s eloquence or thoughtfulness, as much as we are impressed by Paul’s GOD.  This God who has made us and who acts on our behalf – not because he must, but because he chooses to.

That God deserves top billing in my life, and in yours.  Does he have it?

These next two posts were actually delivered as one sermon, but I expanded on them both and thought they deserved to be split.  This first part deals with the atual text of chapters 15-16, then the next post deals with the lessons we’ve learned from the entire book.

Closing Things Out
Romans 15-16

The beginning of chapter 15 carries on from Paul’s discussion in chapter 14, where we left off last time.  As we learned then, it seems the manner in which we disagree (not the content) on things in the Body of Christ really does make a difference.

Romans 15:1-13 (NIV)

¹We who are strong ought to bear with the failings of the weak and not to please ourselves. ²Each of us should please his neighbor for his good, to build him up. ³For even Christ did not please himself but, as it is written: “The insults of those who insult you have fallen on me.” ⁴For everything that was written in the past was written to teach us, so that through endurance and the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope. Read the rest of this entry »

Intro – Asking the Right Questions

It’s important to ask the right questions in life – in fact, much of our education focuses around finding the right questions to ask, and the best ways to answer them.

Have you ever played the game “Psychologist?”  Tanya used to love to play this game with her youth in Birmingham.  It’s kind of an enhanced version of “20 Questions.”  One person is dubbed the “psychologist” and is sent out of the room.  While that person is gone, everyone else decides what’s “wrong” with them – for instance, everyone thinks that they are Michael Jackson, or everyone thinks they are a dog.  Then the psychologist comes back into the room and has to ask yes/no questions to figure out what’s wrong with everyone. Read the rest of this entry »

Romans 13:1-7 (NIV)

1Everyone must submit himself to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established. The authorities that exist have been established by God. 2Consequently, he who rebels against the authority is rebelling against what God has instituted, and those who do so will bring judgment on themselves. 3For rulers hold no terror for those who do right, but for those who do wrong. Do you want to be free from fear of the one in authority? Then do what is right and he will commend you. 4For he is God’s servant to do you good. But if you do wrong, be afraid, for he does not bear the sword for nothing. He is God’s servant, an agent of wrath to bring punishment on the wrongdoer. 5Therefore, it is necessary to submit to the authorities, not only because of possible punishment but also because of conscience. 6This is also why you pay taxes, for the authorities are God’s servants, who give their full time to governing. 7Give everyone what you owe him: If you owe taxes, pay taxes; if revenue, then revenue; if respect, then respect; if honor, then honor.

Context

In the previous passage of his letter, Paul has begun to elaborate on how we are to live in community.  First, he discussed life in the Body of Christ, then he urged us to “live at peace with everyone (as far as it depends upon you).”  Now Paul reflects on how civic government shapes our lives and relationships.  The passage itself is straightforward and easy to understand.

But to understand what’s going on, we should also consider the context of the letter.  Paul was writing to people who had just recently been allowed to return to Rome – Jews and Jewish Christians had caused such an uproar that in 49 AD, Claudius ordered them all to leave the city.  This wasn’t persecution of a people because of their religious practices – it was a way for the emperor to quell a public disturbance.

Paul knows he is addressing people who have a tendency to get carried away with their opinions and demonstrations.  So he is using this opportunity to give them some instructions about how they can conduct themselves in future arguments.  And of course, his point is theologically tied in with everything that comes before. Read the rest of this entry »

I have been amazed at the amount of hatred and sniping that has been seen this week. I suppose I shouldn’t be.  But I am amazed anyway, and sickened.

It’s hard to put political feelings aside, I realize.  But I recognize that I’m part of a greater citizenship than that of a particular political party.  I’m a citizen of a heavenly kingdom first, and of a great nation second.  I think most of us recognize that.

So again, it’s amazing to me to see people already plotting our new President’s demise, after only three days in office.  I see them everywhere – CNN, Fox News, OpEds in papers, religious forums… even on Facebook.  There are, of course, the continued gripes about his policies – whether real or only imagined.  And then there are the petty jabs about something he said or did that was awkward… as if, just like our previous presidents, Mr. Obama is not a real human being who makes mistakes from time to time.

Is it possible that seeds of anger and division are already being sown, when the soil is only newly plowed?

I don’t suffer from the “savior delusion” many are claiming.  I’m as skeptical as many of you.  Barack Obama is not Jesus – he won’t be able to fix all our problems.  This side of heaven, no one is going to be able to fix all the ills that plague humanity.

But whether John McCain, Hillary Clinton, Barack Obama, Al Franken or even Fred Thompson had become president this week, I have concerns that are greater than any awkwardness those people might present in their first days in office.  In fact, a bit of awkwardness might be expected… if nearly anyone stepped into the most powerful office in the world without a bit of awkwardness, I’d be worried.

No matter who you voted for, Barack Obama is our president in a historic and crucial time for our nation.  In the midst of several great crises – economic, energy, environmental, and international relations to name a few – how can someone root for our elected leader to fail, and thereby allow our nation to slide into even worse condition than it already is?  Just because they hold a personal dislike for someone?  Because they want someone they “like” to swoop in and “save” us all instead?

Many imply it, but only Rush Limbaugh has been brave enough to actually say it so far: “I hope he fails.”  Granted, Mr. Limbaugh can say something like that, since he has millions of dollars and his reputation is already secure.

Perhaps Mr. Limbaugh is not governed by certain “Laws” and “Policies” that affect me as a Christ Follower.  Didn’t Jesus say to love and to pray for our enemies (Matt. 5 to for a start)?  Didn’t Paul urge us to respect and pray for our leaders and authorities (1 Tim. 4, Romans 13)?  Is there anywhere in the Scriptures where bitterness and discord are encouraged?

This is the time to support our president in prayer and in action, and work for the good of our country.  It’s the season to sow seeds of encouragement and unity, to work together to nurture the ideals that have made this nation great.  It’s time to look carefully and critically at the policies and practices of a new president, not his dance moves or his verbal stumbles.

The seeds we sow now will be reaped later.  What kinds of seeds are we sowing in these crucial days?