Jesus and Me ... and the Cats

LOVE INTO OUR APATHY In a bacon and egg breakfast, the chicken is involved, but the pig makes a personal sacrifice. Now, I'm not saying Joseph was a chicken, but his initial decision about ending his relationship with Mary was a safe one, for him.   He decided to do right by Mary, but when it was over, Joseph would walk out of Mary's life.   Joseph's decision would end the rumors, the jokes his co-workers told behind his back on the job site, and his family's disapproval. Mary would be someone else's problem.   He was only human, after all. I know there are times when my attitude is, "I couldn't care less."   Caring costs too much.   It costs me time and resources that I may not be able to afford or be willing to give.   It requires too much emotional investment at a time when I'm too tired, too worn out to share myself with others. Caring is risky.   It makes me vulnerable to rejection and getting hurt.   It opens up my he

Friday, Decemter 21, is the first day of winter, the longest night of the year.  On that day, the sun will rise at 7:38 am and set at 4:48 pm.  That gives us a little over nine hours of daylight, and a long night until Saturday's dawn. Long, dark nights are not confined to certain times of the year governed by astronomical cycles.  For us, our longest night may come from the human condition and out of the brokeness of a yet unredeemed creation.  Scripture describes humanity as a people waiting in darkness. In the book of Isaiah, God speaks through the prophet to the people of Israel whose country was conquered by the Assyrians.  Their homes and cities were destroyed, and they were carried off into captivity to Babylon.  Their desolation -- their grief, their angquish, and their anger are expressed in Psalm 137: By the rivers of Babylon, we sat and wept when we remembered Zion.  There on the poplars we hung our harps, for there our captors asked us for songs, our tormentors de

Thanksgiving this year was so much fun!  Not only did we have delightful company, but it gave me a chance to do something I don't often get to do, and that's cook. I love to cook!  For me, it's so relaxing.  I love to cook for other people and try new recipes.  I learned to cook from watching cooking programs on public television as a young bride.  Julia Child and others taught me knife skills and cooking techniques.  Today, I still am a cooking show junkie, and with the internet, I have access to all those wonderful recipes. Cooking appeals to the hands-on creativity in me, but I've learned that that creativeness needs to be kept under control. The most important cooking lesson I've learned is to make sure I have all the ingredients called for and to follow the recipe, to the letter.  Some of my worst creations have resulted from getting too creative, including making substitutions.  Or I was impulsive, deciding to make the dish on the spur of the moment befo

It's 1:25 pm on November 26, 2012, and the kitchen is finally cleaned up.  The left overs are all packaged up after a trip to the grocery store this morning to buy more storage containers.  A double batch of turkey and rice soup was made, pronounced "good," and put in the freezer for winter suppers.  There were only three of us for the Thanksgiving meal, but we had enough to feed fifteen people.  Of course, I wanted leftovers, but I made five times as much food as we really needed!  I was having too much fun cooking for people I love, producing a bounty that included everyone's favorite Thanksgiving dish.  It reminded me of a devotional in the book, Joy Breaks, called "Joy Beads" by Barbara Johnson (Zonervan Publishing House, 1997, pp. 30-31).  Barbara was told that if she put a BB in her bottle of make-up, it would keep it from becoming thick and gooey.  So, she sent her husband, Bill, out to get her a BB.  One BB. Bill returned home and proudly prese

When my niece, Chris, was seventeen, she was diagnosed with a rare form of juvenile leukemia.  After nine years of hundreds of chemo treatments,struggling to complete her nursing degree, wigs, and a bone marrow transplant, Chris died. To this day, it's hard for me to say that Chris' death was God's will.  Oh, I get it that when we pass from this life into the presence of the eternal God that we receive the ultimate healing, and that sometimes, that's the only way healing is going to occur.  I get that.  But to say that death, violence, war, devastating diseases like leukemia and AIDS, abused, neglected, abandoned and starving children, droughts and floods are the will of a loving God -- really?!?!?  I mean -- REALLY?!?! Lesley D. Weatherhead in his book, The Will of God , writes: "The phrase, 'the will of God' is used so loosely, and the consequence of that looseness to our peace of minds is so serious ... There's nothing about which we ought to t

GOD delivers. Even after 11:00 p.m. on weeknights and Sundays. 24/7. Everyday. Rain or shine. Heaven or hell. GOD delivers. And it's free with an infinite delivery range, 'Cause Jesus paid the delivery charge. For you. For me. For the neighbor whose dog barks all night, And the little kid who kicks the back of your pew every Sunday. For the single parent working two jobs, The AIDS victim dying in a hospice, and the meth head. ALL of us. God delivers. No tip required. But a from-the-bottom-of-your-heart felt "thank you" Is always appreciated. Now, go and do likewise.

Matthew 7:24-27 Ephesians 6:10-20 On the PBS children's program, "Between the Lions," there's a character named Cliff Hanger.  At the beginning of every Cliff Hanger story, our hero is dangling precariously from a gnarly tree root on the side of a cliff.  The plot is always the same.  Cliff tries to get his feet safely back on solid ground, but no matter what he tries, he always ends up where he started:  dangling from that same gnarly tree root. Ever have days like that? There are interesting and anxious times we are living in. This summer, we experienced first hand the drought that is drying up the crops of the Midwest, while many of our young adults are drowning in debt. Meanwhile, our senior citizens worry about the financial implications of the new national health plan. Global warming looks like its becoming a reality while the conflicts born out of the Arab spring continue to heat up in places like Syria.  We, however, don't have to look far from

The old cowboy song, "Cool Water" is about a man who is traveling through a water-less dessert.  In it you hear his desperation, his great thirst and longing.  The stars at night look like pools of shiningwater.  The only thing that gets him up in the morning to begin his journey anew is the hope of water,  the vision of "..that big green tree where the water runs free.  Cool. Clear. Water." In Jeremiah 14:1-9, we read a story about a serious drought in ancient Israel.  It is a desperate time.  The public cisterns have run dry; there are no more reserves of water.  Even animals are suffering, as the deer abandon their own newborns because there isn't enough food to nurse their young. Then, as now, in our own time of drought, our faith is challenged.  Where will we place our hope.  Will it be in ourselves or the government or something else or will we take our stand on what we know and believe about God. Isaiah 30:18 says: … the Lord [earnestly] waits

Matthew 12:48-50 I John 3:2 In the mid 1970's, when I was looking for my first job after college, Johnson & Johnson Baby Powder ran this commercial. A young woman is frantically trying to get ready for a job interview.  She looks into the bathroom mirror, runs her fingers through her hair and says, "Why did I cut my hair ... I look like a squirrel!"  After pawing through the clothes hamper looking for something to wear, she returns to the mirror and asks, "Who am I?!?" To which her roommate, who is calmly applying her mascara replies, "I haven't the slightest idea." "Who am I" is a question we all deal with one way or another, whether we are adolescents testing our boundaries and trying our parents' patience or older adults adjusting to the limits of aging bodies.  With each new stage of life and the changes it brings, we are defining and redefining who we are.  Yet, no matter the stages and ages of life, there is one

John 15:1-8 W-W-J-D:  "What would Jesus do?  A few years ago, we saw those letters on everything from bracelets to T-shirts.  A good thought, a good reminder, but I think  L-W-W-Y-H-M-D would be more appropriate. I don't think that when Jesus was faced with a difficult situation during his earthly ministry he sat around pondering, "What would my Father do?"  He didn't have to.  In John 14:10, Jesus tells his disciples, "I am in the Father and the Father is in me." There was an instantaneous connection between Jesus and the Father, as each was in the other.  Jesus didn't have to wonder about what to do next.  He could go directly to the Father and ask.  There was a constant flow of communication between them. Jesus then told his disciples, "I am in my Father, you are in me, and I am in you." (John 14:20).  We have a similar connection with Jesus that Jesus and the Father have.  That's why L-W-W-Y-H-M-D, "Lord, what would y

John 10:11-18 In John 10:11, Jesus makes this powerful, authoritative  statement declaring who he is:  "I am who I am, the Good Shepherd." I am the Good Shepherd, the one and only, who leads his flock through green valleys and by still waters as well as through the darkest, deepest canyons, keeping them on the the path of righteousness. I am the Good Shepherd, and I know my sheep, and they know my voice because the Father's grace and love has been poured out on all humanity.  All to respond to that grace, I claim as my sheep, and I have come to gather them together as my flock. In the culture of that region, even back into Old Testament times, the shepherd was a metaphor used to describe both religious and political leaders.  The hirelings that Jesus referred to were the religious leaders of Israel -- the Pharisees, the Scribes, the Sadducees and the chief priests of the temple. Jesus' audience would have been familiar with passages like Ezekiel 34 which de

Luke 24:36-49 Her followers call her "Amma" or Mother.  This Indian holy woman is being compared to Mother Teresa as she works to change the world one hug at a time.  She's embraced over 20 million people across the globe, and even cranky New Yorkers stand in line for hours to receive something they should expect to get at home. Elizabeth Laird greets returning American soldiers not with a crisp salute or a formal greeting but with a hug.  Known as the official Fort Hood Hug Lady, soldiers in camo gear tower over this tiny woman as they lean down, holding their assault rifles and bags to the side so they can receive the fullness of her welcome-home embrace. In some hospitals, neonatal intensive care units use special volunteers who come in to hold long-term care babies whose families may live several hours away and are unable to visit them on a daily basis.  Because human touch is vital to their early development, these volunteers provide the attention such babies

I Corinthians 13:7   Love Endures All Things Jesus, who was one with God, infinite and all powerful, could have called it quits when he found out he was to be confined to the finite space of a womb and the weakness and frailty of a human body. Christ, the King of kings and Lord of lords could have said, "No thanks" when he saw the lowliness of his stable birthplace or the dirt floor of his Nazareth home or the humbleness of his parents -- a simple teenage girl and a carpenter. When, like any ordinary child, he was given a chore to do, or when his fellow students in Hebrew school were dozing off or looking out the window during the reading of his  Torah, Jesus could have said, "I'm out of here!  Come pick me up, Dad!" The Son of God and Son of Man could have said, "This isn't for me," when a neighbor took his  name in vain or a lazy farmer blamed his low yield on God. When they accused him of being possessed by demons, of being in league

I Corinthians 13:7        It [love] bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. At some point in our lives, we will all probably experience the "dark night of the soul."  It is a time when it seems like our dreams have all been dashed to pieces, there are no options but suffering, when there's no way out, and when hope has abandoned us. Despite the way the week had started with cheers and palm fronds, the disciples were worried and confused.  Jesus had been talking for weeks now that he was going to be rejected and killed, and what did he mean about tearing down and rebuilding the temple?  Now, as they sat down to what was suppose to be a celebratory feast, Jesus told them that they, they would betray, deny and desert him. Things were looking more and more hopeless.  Yet, love always hopes.  Hope doesn't promise an instant solution, but rather the possibility of an eventual one. In the past, Christ had given hope to a woman c

I Corinthians 13:4-8 Arthur Bressi looked through the wire fence of a World War II Japanese concentration camp fence into the dull blue eyes of his friend, Skinner.  He had heard through the prison grape vine that Skinner was in a hospital camp and was dying, and somehow managed to get permission for a five minute visit. Since high school, they had been inseparable friends, and Arthur's heart grieved for him.  Skinner, barely able to walk, was suffering from almost every tropical disease imaginable as well as scurvy.  He could no longer eat or drink.  He wasn't going to last long.  He was a lost cause. Arthur fingered the knotted handkerchief around his neck.  In it was his most precious possession -- his high school class ring.  Having smuggled it into the camp, he was holding onto it in case he himself ever needed to barter it for medicine or food.  With time running out, Arthur slipped the ring through the fence into Skinner's frail hands with the parting words, &

I Corinthians 13:4-8 If you've seen the movie, The Blind Side , you're familiar with this true story. When Stan and Leigh Ann Tuohy, a southern white couple, took Michael Oher into their home and made him part of their family, Michael came with baggage.  The large, gentle and polite black teenager was homeless.  He was raised in the projects by a drug addict mother until he suffered the trauma of being taken away from her at the age of seven and placed in the foster care system.  He had a history of running away and getting into trouble at school.  This uncommunicative, learning-disabled young man had built up emotional walls to protect himself. Michael was a package deal.  The Tuohy family accepted him for who he was and loved them like their own son.  They put up with the criticism of their rich, white friends, struggled through all the red tape necessary just so Michael could get his driver's license, and invested in Michael's future by hiring a tutor so his g

I Corinthians 13:4-5 Philippians 2:3-5 For many of us, the name Brain "Head" Welch, may not be familiar.  We wouldn't recognize his face, although our eyes might be drawn to a small tattoo of a cross and three tear drops just below the corner of his right eye.  "Head," as his fans knew him, is a former member of the successful heavy metal band, Korn. With fame came everything he could ever want -- the worship of adoring fans, money, cars and drug.  But no matter how much he had, it wasn't enough.  He wanted more and more to the detriment of his marriage, his daughter and even his own physical well-being. His life was the very definition of selfishness:  the preoccupation with self to the exclusion of others.  Selfishness is to people's lives and relationships and to our society what the BP oil rig disaster was to the Gulf Coast fishing industry. The Greek word that we translate as "selfish" shares a root form with the words strife and

Matthew 5:14-16 I Corinthians 13:5 A while back, the story of a man who insults and cusses out any police officer he sees made the national news.  He isn't doing anything illegal -- it's his right to express his opinion of law enforcement however he chooses. There was also the case in Minnesota involving a man who let loose a torrent of obscenities when he flipped his canoe.  The river bank was lined with people, including families with small children.  Some of the parents sued the man.  His defense?  It was his right. In a culture that preaches a gospel of entitlement, many people feel they have the right to do or say whatever pleases or benefits them without considering how it affects others.  We have the right to gossip about our neighbors, to hold grudges, to take our bad day out on a store clerk and to hog conversations.  There are no laws against these things. In the kingdom of God, however, the questions is not whether it's our right to do something but rat

John 2:1-12 I Corinthians 13:4 Love is kind. In January of 2008, I found myself sitting in a sales barn in Denison, Iowa.  Towards the end of the morning, a pony was brought out.  People began leaning in and talking quietly to each other as they pointed to an older man with an eight or nine year old little girl at his side.  The little girl was his granddaughter, and he had brought her so she could buy a pony.  The auctioneer opened the bidding at $25.  The only person who bid on the pony was the grandfather.  Word had been passed around to those attending to not bid against him.  Because of their kindness, a happy and proud child went home with a pony she had bought with her own money. Kindness, as the people of Jesus' time understood it meant an act that was practical, specific to the recipient's needs and was done for the benefit of the other.  We see examples of such kindness in Jesus' earthly ministry, including the wedding feast in Cana. Perhaps the bride an

Matthew 18:26-34 I Corinthians 13:4 Author Elie Wiesel is a survivor of the Holocaust.  Born in Romania, he grew up the target of Christian anti-antisemitism.  During World War II, he spent two years in three different concentration camps -- Auschwitz, Bruna and Buchewald.  He was only sixteen when he entered the camps. After the war, Elie became a journalist for Jewish newspapers, but he refused to write about his experiences in the camps.  That is, until 1954, when he was sent to interview Francois Mauriac in Paris. Mauriac, a Nobel Prize winner and noted scholar of French politics, was a devout Christian.  Rather than his political views, all he did was talk about Jesus.  The longer he talked, the more he rubbed salt into Elie's open emotional wounds.  Finally, Wiesel could take it no more, and his temper boiled over. "Sir," he said to Mauriac, "you speak of Christ.  Christians love to speak of him.  The passion of Christ, the agony of Christ, the death

Luke 7:40-47 I John 4:19 What a contrast the two of them were! He, Simon, was a respected member of the community, a student of theology and a religious leader.  He made a living from promoting the standards of the Law and his community. She was a sinner:  a street walker, a prostitute, a whore.  Take your choice -- she had been called them all and far worse.  The community looked down on her because she made a living from breaking the Law and the community standards. He, Simon, was the host of the party Jesus had been invited to.  He treated Jesus like an unwanted relative, offering him none of the common courtesies of the day.  In our time, it was like no one opened the door for him, took his coat, shook his hand or offered him a cup of coffee. She, a sinner, was not invited to the party, yet she did everything Simon had failed to do and more.  She offered of herself extravagantly, lovingly and humbly.  Kneeling at Jesus' feet, she rained tears on them to wash them, w

I squat in silence on a cement slab over a dutch oven filled with blades of last year's Palm Sunday fronds.  I light them, stir, relight and stir again, repeating the process until they have all been reduced to ash.  Ashes for tonight's ash Wednesday service.  The smoke permeates my clothes and my hair.  Do I smell like repentance?  I'm tempted to not wash my hair so that I may carry the smell of the smoke with me into tonight's service. I have participated in a practice that is well over a thousand years old.  In these days of such rapid change, it seems almost ancient, primitive.  As I am warmed for a short time next to the small fire, I feel that I should not be doing this alone.  It should be something  done in community, together in silence, watching the short bursts of flame and the pinpoints of dying embers among the ashes.  It would be like another kind of communion, a connection with God through flame and ash.  A kind of burnt sin offering? Ash Wednesday an

Luke 11:4-32 Matthew 22:36-40 It must have been "Stump the Savior Day" down at the temple in Jerusalem.  First the Sadducees tried to get him on a trick question about the resurrection, which is kind of funny, 'cause those guys didn't believe in the resurrection. When the Pharisees heard that the Sadducees hadn't been able to score against Jesus, they huddled in a corner of the temple court. "All  right, men,"  said the head Pharisee, "Here's the game plan.  Seth has the ball on this play.  He's an expert on the Law, a lawyer, you might say, so he's going to come up with a question that's going to show Jesus for the fake that he is.  Seth, are you ready?" "I'm ready!  Put me in, Coach!  I've got a question that will knock him for a loop!" Then, they all put their hands in the middle of the huddle and yelled, "Go-o-o-o Pharisees!" Seth swaggered up to Jesus and asked, "Teacher, which

Luke 15:25-32 Micah 6:6-8 "You know, Dad, I just don't understand you," said the elder son.  His words were sharp with a bitter edge. " Your  son runs off and squanders your money on booze and cheap whores.  Then he has the gall to drag his sorry butt back home after months of not even a postcard to let you know he's still alive, and you forgive him?!? He comes home after dishonoring our family name, stinking of pigs, and with nothing to show for himself.   And what do I find when  I come home a hard day out in the fields?  The house is full of people and you're throwing a welcome home party for that little .... that little ... when did you ever throw a party for me and my friends?!? Where's my fatted calf?  I deserve some appreciation for all the years I've worked 24/7 on this farm.  I could have done the same thing, but no, I stayed here.  I have never given you a reason to worry about me, and I've never shamed this family like he has.