I'll Be Somewhere Listening......

During the months of July and August I traveled around the Raleigh District, meeting with key leaders from the sixty churches. In those gatherings I asked the leaders to pair up with someone else and to list three qualities or characteristics of effective leaders. It may come as a surprise to some, but one of the qualities most often listed was.....listening.....

I'm not sure we think of leaders as those who demonstrate a high capacity for listening. Speaking? Well

that's more like it. We want our leaders - above all else -

to be articulate speakers. But what if we honored with equal gratitude articulate listeners?

In, The Silence of Jesus, James Breech recounts his experience of traveling to Princeton University to hear

W.H. Auden read some of his poetry. The lecture hall was packed with hundreds of people; all talking excitedly as they waited to see and hear the renowned laureate. Breech says that the old man dawdled his way onto the lecture stage, and then, with the help of a microphone, began to read. But his voice was soft, and the microphone was of no help.

Breech says that the people in the lecture hall began whispering to each other - even as Auden continued to read in inaudible fashion. The crowd began whispering to each other, trying to translate what they believed Auden to be saying. But the whispering soon became more audible than the old man's reading and the collective sound of it all drowned out Auden altogether.

What Breech learned in that lecture hall that night is captured in these words: "..if we want to hear what a speaker is saying while others are talking - even though they are trying to be helpful, their voices distract our attention and interfere with our listening. In order for the speaker's own voice to be heard, the go-betweens must be silent."

Barbara Brown Taylor comments on this statement with one of her own: "When the poet happens to be God, this advice takes on special significance." One of my favorite songs contains these lyrics.

When I was younger, I had a feeling.

I was so lonely....there was no one around.

When it got quiet...the feeling got stronger.

I fought the feelin'...I filled it with sound.

Then soon I found the truth....He'd been waitin' in line.

And when I saw him there....I knew he'd been there all the time.

We walked up to my wall of sound......and knocked it down!

And as the walls came down.....a new sound was all around.....

Now silence is music.......silence is music......

Silence is music.....He made my life....a song.........

Ron Moore

O Lord - give your grace to the go-betweens - so we may learn to be silent........

And Your Voice be heard........

Still In ONE Peace

Jon(the methodist)

Purpose

My friend and artist, Cheryl Harrison, created this image a number of years ago for the purpose of enhancing the worship space of a fledgling faith community through the gift of the visual arts. As pastor of that flock the image served to remind me that God has created each of us by intention with intention. This is not intended to be a mere play on words, but like the painting, a faith-statement.

To be created by intention is to believe that God is not the absentee clock-maker; not One who displays great creative prowess but holds no particular affection for the creation. To believe that God creates the ordered world, and human beings within that ordered existence, is to say something significant, about God and human beings. In short it is to believe that the intention behind the act of creation is good intention. It is to believe that God's ultimate purposes for the human family are at their heart rooted in an atmosphere of grace.

To be created with intention is to believe that God does not exist to serve our whims and wishes, but that we (humanity) exist for purposes that move well beyond self-serving. In short to be created with intention speaks of a Divine-human partnership, some might say a conspiracy, which transcends the empty quest for accumulating more, replacing this desire with purpose. Jesus speaks of this to his first followers when he says,

You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and
bear fruit—fruit that will last. John 15:6a

Cheryl's painting reminds us of another passage when Jesus says to that same rag-tag band of on-again-off-again followers: "You are the light of the world." And later he says, "You are the salt of the earth." I can't help noticing that Jesus is using present tense language with the disciples. There's no hint of, "Well, one day - when you get your act together - then maybe, just maybe I will be ablde to refer to you as light without laughing about it." There is no whiff of Jesus saying, "If you keep at it - study hard - complete all your assignments then I'll see to it that you become like preserving, flavor-filled salt for an otherwise quickly-fading and spiceless creation." It's there - in black and white - Jesus said ARE, not MAY BE, NOW not sometime in the distant future.

So what's standing in the way of Jesus' declaration becoming reality? I'm afraid it may just be - ourselves. What keeps our lamps under bushels instead of visible and bright? What keeps us from bringing God's seasoning to the stew of life? The answer is somewhere in the mirror for me. The late Michael Jackson once crooned, "I'm looking at the man in the mirror.....If you want to make the world a better place take a look at yourself, and then make a change!" Have lyrics ever been so ironic? Surgery after surgery didn't change the essence of Michael Jackson. His song lyrics contain a message which just isn't true. Singing them to adoring fans didn't make the change happen.

Becoming salt and light takes more than gritting our teeth and pressing on with white-knuckled determination. The Scriptures declare that we find our purpose in relationship, not in tricks or even working a bit harder. Light??? Salt??? These are who we become as we embrace just Whose we are. And the world will never be the same...........Neither will we.

Still In ONE Peace,

Jon(themethodist)

NOTE: The artwork featured in this particular blog is the property of Cheryl Harrison and only used with her permission. To explore more of Cheryl's creative visual artwork visit:

www.charrisonart.com

Still In ONE Peace,

Jon(the methodist)

To see more of Cheryl's creative handiwork visit www.

Recharging Your Batteries?

In, The Last Lecture, Randy Pausch shares with the world the challenges and blessings of being a husband, parent, and professor while battling pancreatic cancer.

He offers the following insights that speak to me in simple, yet significant ways. If you are reading this, my prayer is that these words are life-giving to you.

"...the best caregiving advice we've ever heard comes from flight attendants: 'Put on your own oxygen mask before assisting others'....there's nothing weak or selfish about taking some fraction of your day to be alone, recharging your batteries." pp. 200-201

Professor Pausch is on to something significant. I wonder how many times I've rushed off to rescue someone who was struggling to breathe without making sure I had an adequate supplyof oxygen myself ? The truth be known - way too many times. A friend of mine from Australia phrases it this way, "You don't need a pastor who can't waste away an hour with God on a regular basis!"

Last week clergy from across the Raleigh District gathered @ Camp Chestnut Ridge for a Day Apart. Many who participated have since commented that something about that day was life-giving. I really think it had very little to do with the agenda for the day, and quite a bit to do with the day being the agenda. We made ourselves available - at God's bidding - to God - and one another and God did all the rest.

Jesus made it a regular practice to come away from the crowds and even the inner circle of disciples to make himself available to God. I wonder what makes me think that I can somehow come up with a better model than this? Pastors often feel the weight of expectation imposed upon us. Those expectations often come from others, or even worse - from ourselves! My prayer for the flock to whom I belong is that we would grow more comfortable with solitude, and disciplined in regularly wasting away an hour with God.

Still In ONE Peace,

Jon(the methodist)

An Altitude Adjustment

So Wednesday we actually were given the gift of some free time. I've been blessed this week to join other recently appointed district superintendents from across the United States in a time of connecting and training. And one of our family resides outside the continental states - Bro James from Uganda on the continent of Africa.

But what I have found is that this has also been a time of inspiration - every bit as much as it has been equipping. Dr. Marcia McPhee has been our worship designer/leader each morning and that has been a treat too! To raise my voice in praise of the One God each morning with new-found-friends at the table is a gift as well. New friends from places like Fargo and Albuquerque, Fort Smith, Battle Creek , Beaumont and Thomasville.

Well, as I noted earlier - Wednesday afternoon was "free time"; nothing to learn, no schedule to keep - no "best practices" to try and absorb. So I took myself away from Junaluska for a few hours. The district Optima (that's actually my Kia four-door) aided part of my journey. On the way there was a serendipitous stop at a less-than-appealing convenience store where a conversation ensued with the elderly owner He became my spiritual director for the afternoon as he deployed me to the nearby Parkway, and to a place on the Parkway in particular: Water Rock Knob.

Armed only with my Diet Sundrop and an adventurous spirit, I returned to the car and soon found myself maneuvering the curves of the Blue Ridge. There were tempting vistas just outside the passenger side window, but the desire to live kept my white-knuckled hands firmly attached to the steering wheel. Soon I arrived at the destination described earlier by my spiritual director;a place he told me would reveal God's handiwork. The sign in the parking area noted the elevation at that point was a mere 6200 feet above sea level. Another sign noted my intended destination as being only a half-mile more........on foot! Water Rock Knob it was named.

So I huffed and I puffed, but by the time I arrived there were no houses to blow down. There were flowering plants and the almost deafening buzzing of bees - everywhere. Now I know where Raleigh's bee population has gone. They must be Methodist bees because they're all in the mountains in the summer! And then the place promised became the place experienced. As they say the climb was worth the agony.

Somewhere above 6200 ft the air was a bit more thin, or else I'm getting older. But from my vista I could see Maggie Valley and Cataloochee(sp) in the background. There, as promised I got a bird's-eye-view of God's handiwork. And there with God's brush strokes a parable of sorts unfolded for the plebe DS........The expanse of green living trees is evident - everywhere, but of course my eye was drawn to the one dead tree, which dominated the landscape from my perch at the time. As a forest ranger taught me years ago, when trees stop producing rings - they die. And yet, the faithful God - all the while - is busy multiplying a sea of green remnant. Lesson taken, Lord! Old Saint Francis was right. "It is in dieing that we are born to eternal life! Up and over and out.....

Jon(the Methodist)

The Results Of Your MRI Are In!

By now most of us have probably read or seen some kind of report about the woman from suburban Pittsburgh who says that the recent MRI she received at a local hospital looks quite a bit like the crucified Christ. Her own description of the image goes like this:

"You could actually see the hands. They look like they're nailed on the cross. You can see the body. It's in a straight line and then you see his feet, they look like they're together, and the knees are bent."

Admittedly, for many of us, this sort of thing is quick to dismiss, like the grilled cheese sandwich with Jesus' face on it, or a weeping statue of Mary. When asked if the image of Jesus has changed her life, she replied:

"I can't be swayed by a picture. My neck does feel better. I don't know if that was Jesus or physical therapy."

Maybe she has summed up what the Apostle Paul referred to when he said, "Great indeed is the mystery of our faith." Hopefully, we can differentiate physical therapy from Jesus. It's not that Jesus doesn't possess incredible abilities over the human body (see Matthew, Mark, Luke and John), but is that all Jesus does? Is he just the cosmic faith-healer, the teller who gives out blessings at the counter of God's Bank like toasters were once distributed to new customers at the Savings and Loan? Or is he much more?????

MRIs aren't just for people with bad backs. Leonard Sweet says that the Church of Jesus Christ needs and MRI; an infusion of the:

Missional.........Relational.........Incarnational........

spirit we witness in Jesus. While Jesus didn't believe that everything real could be seen, ("blessed are those who have not seen and yet, believe), he also noted that, ("a tree is known by its fruit.") So if God calls the Church into the examination room where MRIs are performed, what is going to show up on the imagery of the scan? Will it depict us as missional, relational, incarnational communities where faith is born and takes flight? Or will the test display us as fraudulent imposters, con artists adept at shaping the picture to appear the way we want others to see us, rather than an accurate depiction of who we are?

Way back in the last millennium the Raleigh District was blessed with a leader who happened to serve among us as a superintendent on his way to becoming a bishop. Some of you remember him well; a man with a dazzling smile and an an infectious laugh. His name was Dr. Joseph B. Bethea, known affectionately to many as "Joe". I remember how "Joe" moved among the churches of our district one year in particular during the Charge Conference season. The best way I can describe the way he carried himself is with the countenance of a wise and all-knowing Cheshire Cat. He would begin the Charge Conferences saying something like: "I am 'The Doctor' and I'm here to give you your annual check up!" He would pause for a few moments - then a smile would spread all the way across his face, soon thereafter followed by his trademark laugh, which filled the entire room.

The test results aren't yet received. The question remains to be answered:

Is Jesus showing up in our MRI????

Singer song-writer John Michael Talbot, posed this question in a similar way many years ago:

"As my lips so often speak the name of Jesus, will the canvass hold his image within me?"

By God's Grace....may it be so.

Jon(the methodist)

IT'S A BOY!

Like Abraham and Sarah we welcomed our new arrival on Tuesday of this week. None of the neighbors knew about this. If so, they probably would have erected one of those quirky wooden storks in our front yard like the astronauts who planted the American flag on the surface of the moon back in 69. This whole business caught us a bit by surprise. It only dates back to Pentecost Sunday of this year. My wife had done an excellent job keeping all of this a secret - at least from me.

We were nearing the benediction of our 3rd ever Spirit Fest celebration on the front lawn of Benson Memorial UMC when the Staff-Parish Relations Chair (Vicki) stepped up front to borrow the microphone. She said she had an important announcement to make. As her announcement unfolded various message-partners stepped up front, bearing gifts from afar. Well, maybe that's a bit too dramatic. There are places in NC where "gifts from afar" could just be the local volunteer firemen handing out tootsie rolls for a small donation in front of the Food Lion. Anyway, I digress.

The announcement culminated when my wife and daughters were asked to come up front and stand next to me. Then from the side wings another person came forward carrying a large piece of foam core (rectangular) with words printed across the face. That's when I discovered we were expecting for the first time. There's nothing like being surprised in front of 300+ friends who are hanging on your every word. There in front of God and everyone, beneath the shade of a massive water oak as old as Teddy Roosevelt, the news was delivered. I took a deep breath, and then I melted like a snow cone in an Arizona parking lot in July. I reverted to my M.O. and blubbered and sniffled in true Strother fashion.

So on Tuesday I brought our new arrival home. Mom is doing fine, and adjusting to living with a husband who now has another marvelous distraction, (as if I didn't already have enough). For 23 years humans of the female variety have ruled the roost in the Strother cave. Year after year, birth after birth, the doctors have always said the same thing in the delivery room: "Its a girl!" But Tuesday all that changed when I brought Taylor home for the first time. Now - finally - I have a sympathizer. Perhaps, just maybe the tide is about to turn.

So last night I found myself up late at night - singing softly to a new arrival while other members of the family rested quietly in their second-floor beds. I didn't mind this at all. Maybe it was the adrenalin of going through this unexpected parenthood for a fourth time. Or perhaps I was enjoying the time alone with our new bundle of joy. Eventually I tucked Taylor in and made my way upstairs to join the rest of my slumbering familia. Life is good..... Oh, for those who are interested....take a look at our new symphonic miracle.......Taylor Strother......

Still In ONE Peace,

Jon (the methodist)

Who Are You Hitched To?

The other day on my way to work I saw something I'd never noticed before. Heading toward the office in the ITB (that’s inside the beltline for non-Raleigh-ites) traveling on Downtown Blvd, I noticed this string of cabooses linked one to the other on a hill behind some warehouses. Is the plural of caboose actually cabooses or is it caboosi? Well I skipped the Wade Ave exit ( the Methodist Building is close by) and drove to the next exit at Peace St. Then I did a 180 and got back on Capital and restarted my quest to find the mysterious train cars.

Suddenly they reappeared, so I drove around behind a warehouse, parked the car and got out @ the end of a deserted railroad track. I walked the abandoned track until I was close enough to snap a picture with my blackberry. In total, eight cars were there – resting quietly. They were joined together - all the same kind of train car, with no engine in sight. I was all alone. Weeds and kudzu were my only witnesses other than God.

As I was snapping the photos I heard the rumbling of train engines coming from another parallel track behind me - just beyond the trees. The whole thing seemed/seems surreal and parabolic now that I pause to reflect. A string of mobile resting places linked together on a track amputated from the mainline without the needed power to go anywhere.

And so it is for all who attempt to experience LIFE apart from Christ. As Jesus reminded us almost 2K previous, “I am the vine…You are the branches….Apart from me you can do nothing.” Life without Christ at the center is akin to linking oneself to a string of train cars, none of which is empowered to go anywhere. It makes me stop and wonder, Am I intentionally staying connected to the Engine and traveling where the open tracks lead? Or am I prone to hitch to any old box car and content to waste away on the deserted side-tracks which are so prevalent. Who knows? This may have been a burning bush, well burning caboose……..

In Christ.
Jon(the Methodist)

Getting in Shape

Writing on my blog seems almost foreign to me at the moment. After all, the last time I posted anything was back in April....I think? But in the midst of change and transition I am climbing back in the saddle again. Here goes.......................

Something I enjoy doing at any opportunity is walking barefoot down any stretch of beach. Over the years those strolls have often been beside the nearby Atlantic. Yet, there have been opportunities to walk by the Agean Sea, the Mediterranean, and by the Pacific waters lapping at the shoreline in Manly Beach (Sydney, Australia) In each instance there has been a profound sense of my smallness and God's greatness. Each shell investigated carries with it an untold story of change and transition. And so today, I am reminded of the words from Terry Talbot's song, "Potter's Clay".

I'm like a stone thrown through the waves,

I'm falling......And the waves all mold me

as they may.....To be unborn, and then to

hear the callin', that I'm still....still the

Potter's clay.

Following just such a stroll yesterday morning, I was nourished in spirit by the words of Reuben Job. Perhaps these words will speak to someone else as well.

Conversion is a partnership project. We cannot transform ourselves, and God does not transform us against our wishes. However, once we invite God's transforming presence into our lives, the necessary power to change comes with the transforming presence.....We cannot know what God has in store for us until we begin to live in harmony and companionship with God.....The important thing is inviting God to be the master potter in our lives. We may not know what the end product will be, but we do know that it will be good when we permit God to be the potter and we agree to be the malleable clay.

Here's to LIFE shaped by the Hands of the Master Potter......and to willing clay.

Still In ONE Peace,

Jon(the methodist)

Do Not Hold On To Me?

Jesus said, "Do not hold on to me, for I have not yet returned to the Father. Go instead to my brothers and tell them, 'I am returning to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.' " (John 20:17 NIV)

One of my favorite songs to sing is Steven Curtis Chapman's "Hold On To Jesus". The words of the chorus are echoed throughout the song. I will hold on to the hand of my Savior. And I will hold on with all of my might. I will hold loosely to things that are fleeting, and hold on to Jesus, I will hold on to Jesus for life.....

While I believe that I understand what Chapman is trying to say in this song, it seems to stand

in stark contrast to Jesus' admonition to Mary at the garden tomb. For Chapman, "holding on

to Jesus" speaks of a devotion; a single-minded dedication through which a person decides to follow Jesus no matter what the circumstances of life may be, or the costs associated with that decision. Maybe this is why Jesus' words to Mary have always seemed to be a bit odd to me. After all, isn't this what our lives are meant to be: - devoted - committed - sold out lock-stock-and-barrel to Jesus?? If we can't hold on to Jesus just who, or what are we to cling to?

Author and preacher, Barbara Brown Taylor has helped to lift the veil of unknowing a bit for me in the following word.

The only thing we cannot do is hold on to him (Jesus). He has asked us please not to do that, because he knows that all in all we would rather keep him with us where we are than let him take us where he is going. Better we should let him hold on to us, perhaps. Better we should let him take us into the white hot presence of God, who is not behind us but ahead of us, every step of the way.

I am asking God to help me learn the power of letting Jesus take hold of me; to help me by the

power of the same Spirit evident in Jesus to surrender my plans to His plans. I am trusting that

God will honor this prayer, and teach me the life-giving strength that comes to those who learn

how to get their backsides out of the captain's chair and discover the beauty of a seat in "coach".

Still In ONE Peace,

Jon(the methodist)

The Wide Boundless Ocean

"When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, "Put out into deep water,.." Luke 5:4a

“If you want to build a ship, don’t summon people to buy wood, prepare tools, distribute jobs and organize the work; teach people the yearning for the wide, boundless ocean.”
Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Jesus' words to Peter are words for us as well. "Put out" are
words which convey Jesus' desire for Peter to reorient his focus from the shoreline in order to embrace where he wants him to go. "Into deep water" connotes abandon, surrender, and maybe even trusting obedience.

So why do these words seem so odd, especially when spoken to a commercial fisherman ? And how can they disturb the faithful
followers of Jesus some twenty centuries after they first echoed across the surface of Galilee?

I have to admit that I actually like the movie, "Castaway". Maybe this says more about me than I care to disclose. Each time I watch the film I find myself experiencing feelings of euphoria
when Tom Hanks' character burst free from his island prison. Through the aid of a port-a-john
sail, aboard their rickety wooden raft, Hanks and his faithful companion, "Wilson", are able to scale the breakwater and reach the open seas. Just seconds after they pierce their breakwater prison, crossing over to freedom, our eyes are forced to focus on what Hanks sees. The island which has been his home, his security, his sustenance .....slowly disappearing from sight.
The stringed music is somber as the island shrinks from sight. Soon there is only the vast ocean
to call home. Horizon serves as the only point of reference, and boundaries become non-existant.
This sounds a bit like following Jesus. The Master calls us to push out into the deep and off we go....The adventure of all adventures begins...... Saint-Exupery is correct. Having the right tools, organizing the process, and delegating the responsibilities will never put us out into the deep. Waiting until the risks are minimized and safety is maximized will keep us on the shoreline the rest of our lives. It comes down to obedience. Availability trumps ability every time.

And so I ask, "Sailing anyone?"

In Christ,
Jon(the methodist)

Forty-Five Years And Counting.......

Last Sunday our faith family celebrated forty-five years of history, in community, with Jesus and one another. We noted that this is about the same length of time taken in building the Herodian Temple in Jerusalem. Students of history know that the Romans had something to say about that building project in the year 70 AD. If you visit Jerusalem today you can see the remnants of that structure, known as, the "Western" or "wailing wall". In 70 AD the temple was brought to the ground, the inhabitants of Jerusalem were scattered like seed in the wind, but the followers of Jesus were sprouting in fellowships dotting the Mediterranean landscape.

Someone has said that the 21st century church suffers from an "edifice complex". That is to say,we seem prone to building things that will not last, buildings that will one day crumble and fall, We tend to prefer building edifices to God's glory rather than forming one another in the image of Christ. Brenda Husson describes our tendencies with these words.

“WE HAVE A KNACK FOR CREATING STATUES, PUTTING UP

PLAQUES AND FASHIONING MEMORIALS. GOD PREFERS TO

BUILD UP THE BODY OF CHRIST. THIS IS WHY (GOD) GIVES

THE HOLY SPIRIT.”

Reuben Job offers us the following encouragement about Jesus’ practices and promises regarding the importance of “being in” community.

Jesus lived his life in community. From his childhood with Mary and Joseph to his calling and traveling with the disciples to his declaration that he and the Father were one, Jesus lived in community. A community of faith nurtured him, supported him, and informed him. It is unthinkable that we would try to live a faithful life without the gifts offered in a faithful community of Jesus. Jesus was known for valuing solitude since he retired to rest and pray, but living in a community also marked his life….Jesus makes a dramatic and revolutionary promise when he says, “Where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them” (Matt 18:20) This is a welcome promise to those who may wonder if God is present in their lives or their affairs. This is a hopeful promise for those who sometimes feel alone and forsaken. This is an enormous assurance for those who face the unknown and need companionship and community.

My prayer for the followers of Jesus is that we will sense and ackowledge his presence among us, and that we will encourage, admonish and commission each other to live lives which are shaped by the gift of Christ with us and within us.

In Christ,

Jon(the methodist)

When Jesus Gets Locked Out Of His Own Church

Several years ago I was astonished to learn that a pastor can be locked out of a church - not by accident (I've done this to myself a number of times). I still remember the day my district superintendent (at the time) wanted me to accompany him to a meeting in a community of faith where the pastor had arrived at the church, days earlier, only to find it padlocked. As odd as this may sound - such is the unpredictable life of people who claim allegiance to Jesus on planet earth. This particular group claimed steadfast allegiance to Jesus, but weren't very enthused about some of Jesus' children whom the pastor was bringing into their facilities. They were God's children, but according to congregational leaders they were the wrong color. This was the 1990s not the 60s. Regardless of the decade, a cancer is a cancer is a cancer. Foolishness is foolishness no matter when it manifests. So my superintendent friend had to intercede and have the padlock and chains removed from the doors. Try picturing this, and you'll come up as confused as I am even to this day.

I was reminded of this episode while reading ReJesus, co-authored by my old friend Michael Frost and Alan Hirsch. The boys from Down Under reminded me of singer/songwriter Sinead O'Connor's album of 2007 entitled, Theology. They note, "Raised Catholic, the brunt of her attacks has invariably been borne by the church of her childhood, but the sting in her beautiful songs can be felt by any church or denomination that shuts Jesus out of its religious system. In her searing lament "Out of The Depths" she captures the Psalmist's broken-hearted cry for mercy. It begins with a paraphrase of Psalm 130:1 In her song (O'Connor) imagines this lament being sung for a God who is locked out of (his) own church.

This is actually the same thing Vincent van Gogh was trying to say in the late 1800s when he painted "The Church at Auvers". Take a close look at Van Gogh's depiction and you catch a glimpse of a church with no doors, no light, and no life. Life flourishes outside the church, but that is in spite of the life-less church of Auvers. Many people don't know that Van Gogh was at one time a student in seminary. His stinging criticism is more subtle than O'Connor's, but no less damning. It makes me think of another daughter of the church, Flannery O'Connor who describes the church pastored by Reverend Haze Mote, in her novel Wise Blood. She describes that congregation as being one where, "the blind don't see....the lame don't walk, ....and what's dead - stays dead!"

As frustrated as people like the O'Connor girls and Vincent Van Gogh may be, try and imagine God's frustration... Imagine the Creator God, witnessing the very humanity for whom God died claiming allegiance to God's mission on planet earth, yet, at the same time perpetrating a foolish obstinance. This is the risk God takes on us. We can get it right, or we can get it wrong. And the truth be known - even on our best behavior we probably never bat above .500. As Barbara Brown Taylor reminds us, no matter how hard we try to do things right we're going to always get some things wrong. And no matter how wrong we can be some things just keep turning out right. That has little to do with us and everything to do with the God who loves us. And for this I give thanks.....

In Christ,

Jon(the methodist)

A Purposeful Invasion

This week I am busy participating in the gift of our United Methodist connection known as The Board of Ordained Ministry. Each of us has been reminded what a gift it is to travel the road of discernment with the candidates as well as the friends who serve on the Board. These experiences bring to mind one of my favorite passages of Scripture and a poem which bubbled up from my encounter with the Text last fall.

However, we possess this precious treasure [the divine Light of the Gospel] in [frail, human] vessels of earth, (so) that the grandeur and exceeding greatness of the power may be shown to be from God and not from ourselves.
II Corinthians 4:7 (Amplified)

Vessels of Earth

From the soil of YOUR MAKING we are created,
called into existence by THE VOICE,
a lilting silence, gentle as baby’s breath,
yet, resonant within; singing our slumbering dry bones to LIFE!
As by intention the glistening humus quivers with possibilities…… breathing in THE EMPOWERING GENESIS LIGHT.
In the passing shadows
ordinariness is conformed towards original image.
GREAT UNSEEN HANDS are at work,
moving in and over the feeble, selfish dust.
FINGERS OF PERFECTION, intent in love to knead our brokenness
into usefulness, are shaping these frail vessels of earth,
filling us to the utter brimmed-limits
with GOD’S PRECIOUS TREASURE.

All of this is GOD’S DOING……an extension of GOD’S BEING….
a DIVINE POWER which comes to us from above….
unwilling to remain distant, aloof……..uncaring,
but intent to risk a purposeful invasion……….
Surely this is not of ourselves……
nor only intended for ourselves……..
The grandeur and exceeding greatness belong to GOD ALONE.

j.e.s 10/08

A Cross-less Faith?

Someone has said that Western Christians can often be a mile wide and an inch deep. Like all such statements there is a measure of truth in there somewhere. I'm reminded of theolgian H. Richard Niebuhr's now famous assessment of Christian theology, with a uniquely American flavor ( a generality - but prophetic nonetheless). It goes something like this:

"A God without wrath brought men without sin into a kingdom without judgment through the ministration of a Christ without a cross."

My old professor Will Willimon chimes in with Niebuhr in a 21st century prophetic word of his own as he notes a recent encounter with one of America's most popular"TV preachers" . The Christian bookstores aren't the only ones spreading his blessings gospel" nonsense. Even Borders and Barnes & Noble (to name a few) seem content to sell his wares. Bishop Willimon comments.

"I just heard the sermon of a TV preacher (who preaches each Sunday to more people than I preach to in a year). Though his sermon was charmingly delivered, his message was one of autosalvation - you are a good person who, with the right principles in your head (which I will tell you), by the application of the right technique (which I have discovered and will now graciously give you) will be able to save yourself by yourself."

Bishop Willimon's tongue-in-cheek satire is painfully to the point. Many of us prefer a cross-less version of following Jesus. Years ago, while visiting a church member who lived in a nursing home, I found myself in a theological discussion with one of the home's employees. This African-American lady offered me a healthy dose of
Christology 101, 201, and 301 when she said something like, "You know preacher....there's a lot of folks go roun' talkin about the crown they're gonna be wearin' one day, but they ain't willin' to take up their cross in the here and now! You can't wear that crown unless you're willin' to take up His cross."

In Freedom of Simplicity, Richard Foster says the same thing another way. "Mother Teresa of Calcutta said, "Pray for me that I may not loosen my grip on the hands of Jesus even under the guise of ministering to the poor." That is our first task, to grip the hands of Jesus with such tenacity that we are obliged to follow his lead, to seek first his Kingdom. The next step is so simple I am almost embarrassed to mention it, and yet it is so important I must. Begin now to obey him in every way you can."

I meditate on this word, but sooner or later meditation is empty if it stops short of obedience....

Still In ONE Peace,
Jon(the methodist)

If I Had A Hammer, I'd........

The morning paper included an article today about the death of Millard Fuller, founder and visionary of Habitat For Humanity. Millard Fuller will be remembered for coining phrases like, "sweat equity" and "theology of the hammer". His legacy will also include the construction of some 300,000 homes which are now residences for 1.5 million people around the globe. This giant tree of compassion has grown from a tiny mustard-seed of faith, planted in south Georgia less than thirty-five years ago. Millard Fuller was fond of reminding the world that Habitat for Humanity was not the same thing as (Lottery For Humanity). What he meant was that the modest homes this ministry inspired were not intended to be places of luxury, but safe, affordable, and dignity-building; not a hand-out but a hand up.

When Hurricane Andrew ravaged south Florida some years ago the national media discovered a small cluster of homes standing amidst the rubble of post-storm-devastation. It was an odd sight because all of the surrounding homes were completely destroyed. When one local building official was asked his opinion as to why these modest homes withstood the storm, his answer was simple and straightforward: " These (Habitat) homes were built to code!"

Millard Fuller was a servant of the Kingdom whose life was dedicated to Kingdom of God principles; principles he first encountered in a south Georgia Christian community known as Koinonia Farms. "Koinonia" is the Greek word meaning, " fellowship or community". Koinonia Farms was founded by Clarence Jordan and his wife, Florence some thirty years before the inception of Habitat For Humanity. The Kingdom's seed may take time to sprout and grow, but the Kingdom of God exists in the here and now. Bill Lane, a one-time resident of Koinonia Farms sums things up with these words of wisdom.

"....the sowing of God's ideas does create obedient discipleship. There are some who do genuinely respond. The truth penetrates our hardness, overcomes our fears and destroys our old allegiance. The Kingdom takes root in our lives and brings forth an abundance of faithfulness."

Building "to code" is a life aligned and in sync with God's Kingdom.... A life committed to God's Kingdom will weather any storm that comes. Millard Fuller could have used a hammer to injure someone, or even worse, to tear down and destroy. Instead, he submitted his will to the Master Carpenter and became an instrument for God's use in the Kingdom's building. In Christ a simple man's hammer can become a source of life and hope for millions.

God, help my life to become a tool for your using - a source of hope for the hopeless - a visible sign of your Kingdom here on earth......

In Christ,

Jon(the methodist)

The Best Part of Waking Up Is.....

Saturday morning my discipline of coffee-making experienced some technical difficulties. The appliance was in working order. I had adequate coffee supply and filters to spare. What tripped me up was a mis-shapen filter basket. The plastic basket had undergone a baptismal experience the night before in our dishwasher. Saturday morning - it was in no shape to make coffee. (pun intended) It hadn't been submitted to full immersion, just sprinkling with some serious heat to endure. The warped coffee filter basket was non-cooperative. Well, I did what any red-blooded United Methodist clergy would do in a similar situation - I became really frustrated! After ten minutes of filter basket disobedience, I received a revelation. Soon the coffee was perking - with the help of a large rubber band, which I had stretched from the front of the basket to the back of the coffee maker. It was a calculated risk, I'll admit. But caffeine is a regular part of this pastor's breakfast. The rubber band held the basket in place. Sunday morning I noticed that it was working again - without a rubber-band crutch. The once mis-shapen vessel has been healed and the brown brew is flowing freely again, as it should. All is well with the world. Well, at least the coffee cosmos anyway.....

As odd as this may seem, the whole experience causes me to reflect back to an experience some months ago. In May of 2007 our church welcomed a long tall stranger into our midst. His teaching was some of the most life-giving I have ever been priviledged to experience. This gifted communicator and teacher was none other than Robert Mulholland, Jr. By the end of the weekend he seemed more of a friend than a stranger. In, Shaped By The Word, "Bob" Mulholland writes:

"When God puts a “finger” on those things in our lives that are inconsistent with God’s will for our wholeness, it is not simply to point them out. It is not just to say that they must go or must be changed. That finger has a hand attached that offers us the nurture into wholeness that we need at that point. This concern for our whole being is the essential nature of God’s knock upon the closed doors of our lives. The knocks come at those points where God is shut out of our lives, and we are imprisoned within; imprisoned by some bondage that does not allow us to be free in God’s love and in God’s will for our wholeness in our life with others. Precisely at these points in my life is where I regularly encounter something that disturbs me, upsets me, troubles me, throws me off balance in either my perceptions or my feelings. With consistent regularity, these experiences become God’s knocking upon the closed doors of my life. These are the points where God chooses to begin a new work of growth toward wholeness in my being."

The malfunctioning filter basket is a metaphor for my own life; created for a purpose, yet distorted from my original God-image. I am unable to re-shape myself - yet hands are constantly at work , nurturing me back toward my original shape. To borrow from one comtemporary songwriter, "This is the air I breathe....Your Holy presence...living in me."

I once attempted to capture this miracle in a verse.

The Master comes to bring us life - abundantly,
To breathe into our very souls His Kingdom's seed.
Transforming us with unseen hands - the Potter shapes the clay;
Then pours into our hearts - God's never-ending day.......

Still In ONE Peace,

Jon(the methodist)

Raising Children Jesus' Way

Early on Wednesday morning my phone rang. I recognized the voice of a dear friend's daughter. The purpose of the phone call was not altogether unexpected, just difficult to grasp. I can only try to imagine how difficult it was for her to make. She phoned to tell me that her father had died earlier in the morning; just a few minutes before the call....his battle with cancer now complete.... Our conversation was brief.... Hanging up, my mind wandered back in time to a moment almost twenty-five years earlier when I saw her for the first time. Actually I saw the evidence of what she was yet-to-be, as unborn, she expanded her mother's abdomen for everyone to see. I'm sure I joked with her expectant mom and teased her about being "great with child". But the truth of her existence was, nonetheless, real - and the rest of the world- including her mom and dad - would have to wait the requisite nine months to be properly introduced. Yet, the waiting did not diminish the reality of her existence in any way whatsoever.

So today - hours after the phone call - I went searching for an image I had long ago encountered. Soon the brush strokes of Henry Tanner's painting, "Resurrection Of Lazarus" were reintroduced to my eyes. Today I have pondered their significance anew......Like any work of art the medium seems initially stagnant, or even worse - antique. Yet, interestingly enough the painting continues to speak. For one thing, Tanner's depiction of the crowded tomb almost makes me claustrophobic. I also notice there are children who witness the raising. It seems as if Mary and Martha (Lazarus' siblings) are the ones kneeling in the cave; one with head in hands as if she can't bear to see what happens next, and the other preoccupied with her distraught sister. Someone has the head of Lazarus in his hands (maybe this is Tanner's way,like Rembrandt, of creeping into the scene of his own design). One devout onlooker is praying with open eyes and palms upturned toward heaven. Then there's Jesus - standing with inviting hands amongst the gawking crowd - eyes firmly fixed on his deceased friend - a picture of quiet, calm, confidence - The Lord of Life demonstrating that he is also the Lord of death.

Today I noted for the first time that everyone in Tanner's depicted tomb is reacting to Lazarus' death in a different way. One man even turns his back on the whole process. This reminds me that each of us encounters the reality of death from our own, unique perspective. But the one constant in the midst of all the shrouded mystery of death is this: Jesus. Prayers from the liturgy of Death and Resurrection are one of the ways I experience the quiet, calm, confidence of Jesus in the here and now....even in the face of death.

We pray to you for one another in our need, and for all, anywhere,
who mourn with us this day. To those who doubt give light; to those who are weak, strength; to all who have sinned, mercy; to all who sorrow, your peace. O God, all that you have given us is yours....As first you gave James to us, now we give James back to you.....Gracious God, we thank you for those we love but see no more. Receive into your arms your servant James, and grant that increasing in knowledge and love of you, he may go from strength to strength in service in your heavenly kingdom; through Christ our Lord. Amen.

Raising children Jesus' way has a name - RESURRECTION - a reality we can experience while we have life and breath, and one we experience in completeness when we stand in his presence on the other side......Author Eugene Peterson speaks of the mystery of resurrection in this way:

"Jesus resurrection provides the energy and
conditions by which we "walk before the Lord in
the land of the living" (Psalm 116:9) The resurrection of Jesus creates and makes available the reality in which we are formed as new creatures in Christ by the Holy Spirit....the resurrection is not something we can use or manipulate or control or improve on....resurrection is not available for our
use; it is exclusively God's operation."

from Christ Plays In Ten Thousand Places

From the tomb of Lazarus we hear Jesus speak: "Take off the grave clothes and let him go." (John 11) So on Saturday we will gather....family...friends....former
parishioners,..colleagues and classmates....yet all of us children.....and none of us able to "raise" ourselves any more than Lazarus could. Our job is to acknowledge God's power and to assist in God's resurrection work by letting James go. "Before he is ours - he is yours", prays the liturgy.

As our Lord declared to Martha, he now says to us: I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will
live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and
believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?

There was a time when yet-to-be-Kristi, though
unseen, was present. Not being able to see her
in no way diminished her existence. In time the invisible became visible. So now her father - invisible to us for a season is undiminished in his existence and is present with the Lord.

I say, "Yes, Lord - I believe....help my unbelief..........."

Still In ONE Peace,

Jon(the methodist)

....Come Down From Heaven

6 Seek the LORD while he may be found; call on him while he is near. 7 Let the wicked forsake his way and the evil man his thoughts. Let him turn to the LORD, and he will have mercy on him, and to our God, for he will freely pardon. 8 "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the LORD. 9 "As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.

10 As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, 11 so is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. (Isaiah 55 NIV)

Come Down From Heaven....
“Come down…..from heaven…..watering-snow…….
bringing with you all the budding-possibilities….
Flourish…. yielded-seed….flung with intention from The Sower’s hands

…… Die to live…..Take root…..

Rise from your earthen tomb…..
Grow….Stand upright and sway in the unseen breeze……
Wait for the harvest of earthen-hands….

Be garnered.......carried to the threshing floor…… dismembered from the chaff…..milled into promise…..kneaded into One Loaf…..

Tested by fire you become bread to the eater…….
a creation of the Word who speaks us all into existence….

Come, “Creative Word”….
Accomplish your deepest desires……
Achieve your grandest purposes……
…..in us……..

JES (01/20/09)

Birthday Party or Martyrdom Significance?

January 15, 1929 - April 4, 1968

Monday the nation is poised to pause and remember the life of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
The holiday is almost overshadowed this year with the remarkable occurrence of the presidential inauguration of Barack Obama. It is in many ways a fitting epilogue to the life of the slain pastor and civil rights activist. The historic inauguration of a man of African-American heritage is only possible in the 21st century because of the work initiated by Dr. King in the 20th century. His dream for America - and the whole world for that matter -included the hope that one day, persons would be judged not by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.

One of my favorite stories about Dr. King involves his response to a heckler who was in attendance at a location where he was speaking. If my memory serves me well the story goes
that Dr. King was interrupted by a man who said, "Oh, all you want to do is marry my sister!"
Martin Luther King's calm response was: "Sir, I don't wish to be your brother-in-law. I wish
to be your brother."

I also think of the class I attended as a student @ Duke Divinity School some years ago. The class was called, "Black Theology". One day we discussed the MLK holiday and the potential significance it holds for our nation and the world. After all, Dr. King was more than an American.
His receiving of The Nobel Peace Prize in 1964 made him a citizen of the world. In "Black Theology" class I posed to the professor and my classmates a question, "Why do we choose to
remember Dr. King's birthday, but barely acknowledge his death-day? I still believe this is an
important question. The followers of Christ call this kind of death more than an unfortunate case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Dr. King was in Memphis for a purpose. That purpose contributed to his death. Therefore, we refer to this as his martyrdom.

In a sermon offered on April 3, 1968 - the night before his death - Dr. King concluded with with these words.

And then I got into Memphis. And some began to say that threats, or
talk about the threats that were out. What would happen to me from some of our sick white brothers? Well, I don't know what will happen now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn't matter with me now. Because I've been to the mountaintop. And I don't mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want
you to know tonight, that we, as a people will get to the promised land. And I'm happy, tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.

So what does the life and death of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. mean to you? My hope is that some of our nation's day apart (January 19) will be focused around that question. I welcome your contributions to the answer.

Gratefully,

Jon(the methodist)

Rummage Anyone?

In, The Great Emergence, writer Phyllis Tickle mirrors the thoughts of Anglican Bishop, The Right Reverend Mark Dyer. Tickle describes Dyer's summation of the current changing landscape of North American Christianity, writing:

"...the only way to understand what is currently happening to us as twenty-first century Christians in North American is first to understand that about every five hundred years the church feels compelled to hold a giant rummage sale....as Bishop Dyer observes about every five hundred years the empowered structures of institutionalized Christianity, whatever they may be at the time, become an intolerable carapace that must be shattered in order that renewal and new growth may occur."

I recently declared that I believe God’s chosen instrument of transformation in the world is the local congregation. Having served in churches of every size, and having been privileged to create a team which helped to establish one new congregation, I am convinced that the best days for strengthening the mission and ministry of the local church are before us. What I am not prepared to declare is that the transformation of God's world will take place through a church which is determined to remain static, unwilling to morph, change and diversify; refusing to recognize the myriad opportunities which are ours if only we will seize them.

Rummage can be defined as, "to find something by searching". If our searching is intended only to create the "new and improved church" then I am afraid we are no better off than those who attempted to construct the great tower known by Jews and Christians as Babel. If the church is compelled every five hundred years to hold a rummage sale, then who is the instigator of the compelling? Like the ancient architects of Babel we are prone toward believing that WE are the compelling ones. But the story of our salvation history demonstrates that this kind of thinking and living rests on a false foundation. Maybe Bishop Dyer is asking us to celebrate the falling of our spiritual self-centeredness which leads to the possibilities of resurrection. Maybe God is holding a rummage sale in 2009 - searching like the woman of Luke 15 for her lost coin (church). I can almost hear the sound of hammer on wood as the emerging signs on the front lawns of our churches read: I HEART RUMMAGE

Let the rummaging begin!

In Christ,

Jon(the methodist)

The Good News Will Outlast The Golden Arches

The arch is an arch-itectural wonder with ancient beginnings. Some years ago, while traveling in the Middle East, I visited the location of the one pictured above. This (Roman arch) is located beneath an aqueduct that runs parallel to the Mediteranean Sea at the ruins of the city of Caesarea in post-modern Israel. In all probability it was once gazed upon by the likes of: Philip (Acts 8:40) Cornelius the centurion (Acts 10:1) Peter (Acts10:24) and Paul of Tarsus (Acts 18:22) just to name a few.... Crazy King Herod even kicked the bucket nearby (Acts 12:22) - BTW this is not exactly bedtime reading.

20 centuries have come and gone since the aqueducts were built atop these arches and they
are still standing. I seriously doubt that 20 centuries into the future that very many tourists will have their photos taken beneath McDonalds golden arches. Can't you hear them arguing?
"Mom, Nevtek just pinched me!" "Boys! Keep your hands to yourselves." she says. "Now please - let your father capture this image so we can go. You know your grandmother is going to be upset if we're not back on Jupiter by lunchtime. " "Mom," one of boys whines. "What are these things we're standing in front of anyway?" Dad chimes in, "They're probably the ruins of some ancient temple. Look boys - here's the remains of their ancient god - Ro-nald."

Maybe one of the reasons the Gospel is GOOD NEWS is that it stands the test of time. I mean the good news which was shared by angels and shepherds in Bethlehem is the same good news
Paul found to be good thirty years after Jesus' resurrection. Its GOOD NEWS today. But the gospel, according to Frederich Buechner, is actually, " bad news before it is good news. It is the news that (humanity) is sinful; to use the old term that (we) are evil in the imagination of our hearts. That when (we) look in a mirror all in a lather - what we see is at least 8/10 chicken......phony ...slob.....bleeding to be sure...."

Kenneth Cragg once offered the following words in an Anglican Cathedral in Cairo Egypt. I think they've got more good news staying power than McD's could ever muster.

Christian faith is fact, but not bare fact; it is poetry but not
imagination. Like the arch which grows stronger precisely by dint of the weight you place upon it, so the story of the Gospels bears, with reassuring strength, the devotion of the centuries to Jesus as the
Christ.

It would be unfair to not let Buechner finish his earlier statement,

....what we see is at least 8/10 chicken....phony.... slob. That is the tragedy.
But it is also the news that (we) are cherished anyway....forgiven....bleeding to be
sure......but bled for.......

Standing On The Promises.......
Jon(the methodist)

"See, I lay a stone in Zion, a chosen and precious cornerstone, and the one who trusts in him will never be put to shame." I Peter 2:6

One Gift In Two Life-Changing Words

This Sunday in the church year is commonly referred to as "Baptism Of The Lord Sunday". Yet, if baptism is significant at all - it is anything but common.

In Christ Plays In Ten Thousand Places, author Eugene Peterson helps to frame the significance of being baptized into Christ; through life in the resurrection community.

“Two imperatives chart the way of the baptized Christian as we set out living together in the community of the resurrection. Neither is difficult to understand, but it takes a lifetime of attention and discipline to be shaped by them. The words are: “REPENT’ and “FOLLOW”. “Repent” is the no, and “follow” is the yes of the baptized life. The two words have to be worked out in changing conditions throughout the life of the community and in each of our lives. We never master either command to the extent that we graduate and go to higher things. These are basic, and remain basic……”

Bishop Kenneth W. Goodson once walked the hallways of Duke Divinity School. His tenure as Bishop in Residence was a gift. "The Bishop" shaped many of us in significant ways. I was ordained when Methodists still did the "two-step". That is to say, I was first ordained a deacon, and then a few years later, I was ordained as an elder. The fall semester following my ordination as a deacon Bishop Goodson greeted me and congratulated me on taking this first big step toward becoming an elder in full connection. He fixed his eyes on me and said something like, "Jon - just remember that you were ordained as a deacon first, before you will be ordained an elder. No matter what - you should remember that you are ordained, first and foremost, as a servant, even before you are ordained as a priest. " Repent and Follow....no...and yes...... two imperatives for all who answer Christ's call to follow. Singer/songwriter John Michael Talbot says it like this:

Do you hear the call to follow? You must lay down your life to follow. For only when you die....are you free to live.

Saint Francis said it this way, "It is in dying that we are born to eternal life."

In Christ - jon(the methodist)

Jehovah's Sunrise

The beautiful image to the right is used by permission
of and is the exclusive property of Christine Valters Paintner at
www.AbbeyoftheArts.com/blog.

Jehovah’s Sunrise………
Isaiah….. son of Amoz…..
Yesh'yahu "the salvation of Jehovah"
Cry out; sing to us a song of joy –
Good News - Too wonderful to comprehend.

“God's bright glory has risen for you.
Jehovah’s sunrise glory breaks over you.
Look around! Watch as they gather.
Watch as they approach you.
Sons coming from great distances.
Daughters carried by their nannies.
People returning…….
Exiles gathered……..
Streams in the desert…….

Children from faraway places,
Filling the Holy City with precious jewels,
Diamonds of flesh and blood,
Singing the praises of God.
—open house day and night!—
---two diametric opposites—
---now indistinguishable….one from the other----
Yet…….

Not long ago you were despised refuse—

out-of-the-way, unvisited, ignored.

But now, now…..
You'll know that I, God, am your Savior.

You'll have no more need of the sun by day

Nor the brightness of the moon at night.

God will be your eternal light,

Your God will bathe you in splendor.

Your sun will never go down,

Your moon will never fade.

I will be your eternal light.

Your days of grieving are over.
God’s Dawning Epiphany…..

Jehovah’s sunrise glory breaks over you……. "

An interpretation of Isaiah 60 incorporating the words taken from

Eugene Peterson’s translation of The Message and my own…..

Jon (the Methodist) 01/08/09

The Sun Will Shine

I am not a fan of cloudy winter days. In all honesty, they are depressing at times. That's why I like living in sunny North Carolina. Of course in the tar heel state a cloudy winter day usually means - rain.... That combination may be more depressing than the freeze-dried version. On days like today I remember how only a couple of years ago I mission-traveled to "always sunny Belarus" at about this exact time of the year. There were occasions of sunshine, but most of the time the weather report was predictable: cloudy with a chance of snow flurries (they say something that sounds like schniiegh) It looks just like snow and by coincidence can be balled up and thrown just like our snow. Anyway, it stayed cloudy so much of the time that on those rare occasions when there were actual "sun-sightings" a sense of euphoria swept over me like a three-year-old @ Christmas. Our host family and friends (the Volkovs) e mailed this week and attached a picture that must have taken three hours to send over their speedy dial-up connection. Mom, Dad, and two kids are squeezed together on a couch in the living room of their three bedroom flat - with the drapes drawn behind them as a backdrop. A4 paper pieces are attached to the top of the drapes, spelling out Happy New Year in Cyrillic. When spoken aloud it sounds something akin to: SNOW - VOOM - GO - DUHM!!!! The light behind the sheer curtain cannot be described in any sense as "streaming". It is obviously a typical winter day in Mogilev - where the sunlight does not "stream". It comes through the overcast sky more like trickles of water through a clogged drain. Yet, there they are, on the couch, with smiles on their faces....and as I looked at the digital image I started smiling myself. Sergei Volkov is in every sense of the word a "bear-of-a-belarussian-man". His smile is contagious. ...His zest for life is constant. He is the consummate, top-shelf-of-the-banya (sauna), kind of guy. If he lived in North Carolina his wife, Irina, would only see him on rainy days - because every other day he would be fishing from his belarussian dinghy.

The two of us laughed and smiled and enjoyed the opportunity to live at the intersection of God's grace for some wonder-filled days. Our time together, and our staying in touch has cemented us as "DRUK" (friends). I often wonder if my friend Sergei struggles to keep his chin up when the sun is barely sighted for days on end. Does he dream of visits to sunny North Carolina in the midst of harsh Belarussian winters? Perhaps this will be included in our next conversation aided by the interpretation of his 12 year old daughter. Sergei makes me think of something the late Henri Nouwen wrote some years ago.

“….Real life takes place in the here and the now. God is a God of the
present. God is always in the moment, be that moment hard or easy, joyful or
painful. I have a friend who radiates joy, not because his life is easy, but
because he habitually recognizes God's presence in the midst of all human
suffering, his own - as well as others'. … My friend's joy is contagious. The
more I am with him, the more I catch glimpses of the sun shining through the
clouds. Yes, I know there is a sun, even though the skies are covered with
clouds. While my friend always spoke about the sun, I kept speaking about the
clouds, until one day I realized that it was the sun that allowed me to see the
clouds. Those who keep speaking about the sun while walking under a cloudy sky
are messengers of hope, the true saints of our day.”

Here and Now: Living in the Spirit

May God grant us the grace to know that the Son shines even when clouds seem to rule the day. I hope you have a friend like Sergei - someone whose contagious joy spills into your life as a gift from the One who spoke the sun into existence.

In Christ,

Jon(the methodist)

Post-Christmas Post

With a mixed sense of sadness and joy we packed up the Christmas decorations on Saturday. With two trees to dis-assemble and all the ornaments to boot this is no small feat. The wreath was removed from the front door. The red bows on the outside of the house were pulled down and packed away until next Christmas. One of my jobs was to pack up the small nativity creche. For a month or more it rested beneath the ornamental plates which are hanging on the side wall of the dining room. Perched on top of a table and laid atop a piece of maroon table-runner (a gift from a friend brought from far away India) it quietly and consistently served as a focal piece of my Advent/Christmas waiting and watching. The figures are pure white - unfinished - and evidence that less is more. Friends gave us these figures years ago when the girls were young. As I remember the nativity was wasting away in a dark attic, under-utilized, but not forgotten - just a second superfluous set. So now - each year - we bring them out of their shelved dungeon in the garage....the sheep...a cow and a camel......wise men and shepherds too (we don't try to figure all this stuff out - the Magi just keep showing up with the shepherds each year) ....there's an angel with quite a wing-span....and of course, .....Mary...Joseph and the smallest personage of all: baby Jesus.

Saturday, as I packed up the creche, I noticed that baby Jesus was the first figure I reached for. He was almost drowned by a tsunami wave of white tissue paper (after all the years its more brown wave than white). For some reason I paused and decided to wait.... and let Jesus be "King of the Hill". So beneath the ceramic Jesus I laid a foundation of all the other lesser characters in the story. After some careful packing - King Jesus was in his rightful place resting on top of them all. Soon the tattered box flaps were folded. The years-worn tape created a less than desirable seal. But now King Jesus reigns over his kingdom - atop two clear plastic storage tubs on a shelf in our garage. Sounds glamorous, huh? Oh the perks of Kingship......

There's something still which makes me want to pull this all back out, but then sanity kicks back in. There's something in me that wants to cling a bit longer to the baby Jesus....to draw close.....and listen carefully for his beating heart....to hold him in the same way we've cradled our own children (back when they would let us).From inside the box it's as if I can hear baby Jesus pleading: "Jon - Jon.. I am in here. Did you really think that you could box me up in a cardboard sepulchre or wrap me in any tissue paper grave clothes? You can always find me. I'm not the one who is adept at hiding!"

The prayer of John Baillie seems to draw a fitting thread through the tapestry of my most recent celebration of Jesus' birth.

O Holy Spirit of God, visit now this
soul of mine, and tarry within it

until eventide. Inspire all my
thoughts. Pervade all my imaginations.

Suggest all my decisions. Lodge in my
will's most inward citadel and

order all my doings. Be with me in my
silence and in my speech, in

my haste and in my leisure, in company
and in solitude, in the fresh-

ness of the morning and in the
weariness of the evening; and give me

grace at all times to rejoice in thy
mysterious companionship. Amen.

Mysterious companionship......but a mystery and a companionship to be experienced.....

In Christ,


Jon(the methodist)