The Last Enemy
Sat 22 Jan 2011 Filed in: Reflections | Grief Notes
Most of the time I like getting mail, both e- and the snail variety. I’m not talking about spam and its junk mail predecessor, both of which should be banished to the pit. It’s real mail that I like; it keeps me in touch, even the bills. But in the last couple of days my mail, both e- and snail varieties, have brought painful news.
It began with a simple hand-addressed envelope from the mother of a California acquaintance. The envelope contained the memorial folder from her daughter’s funeral. I found and reread my friend’s Christmas letter (these annual epistles were the extent of our conversation) sent just a few weeks ago; there was no hint that death was around the corner of the new year. Then came the emailed news of a relative of Joan’s who had died after a painful experience of bone cancer. Her death was welcomed release. The same day came news of a former parishioner whose body is slowly giving up and who will likely be in the presence of the Lord within a week or two. Hard on the heels of that news came word of a friend just diagnosed with cancer.
The losses of others scrape against the scars of my own grief. Death, however it comes, is not to be feared, but it is undeniably the enemy. Death and disease leave pain in their wake. It was Paul who described death as the last enemy to be destroyed (1 Cor 15:26). The good news is that death has been defeated, the victory sealed with Easter’s empty tomb. One day, death will be destroyed as well.
The mail just arrived. I wonder if I should open it.
It began with a simple hand-addressed envelope from the mother of a California acquaintance. The envelope contained the memorial folder from her daughter’s funeral. I found and reread my friend’s Christmas letter (these annual epistles were the extent of our conversation) sent just a few weeks ago; there was no hint that death was around the corner of the new year. Then came the emailed news of a relative of Joan’s who had died after a painful experience of bone cancer. Her death was welcomed release. The same day came news of a former parishioner whose body is slowly giving up and who will likely be in the presence of the Lord within a week or two. Hard on the heels of that news came word of a friend just diagnosed with cancer.
The losses of others scrape against the scars of my own grief. Death, however it comes, is not to be feared, but it is undeniably the enemy. Death and disease leave pain in their wake. It was Paul who described death as the last enemy to be destroyed (1 Cor 15:26). The good news is that death has been defeated, the victory sealed with Easter’s empty tomb. One day, death will be destroyed as well.
The mail just arrived. I wonder if I should open it.
Comments
Whatever and the Web
Tue 18 Jan 2011 Filed in: Reflections
Having spent a good chunk of my life serving churches, I have a lot of church-involved friends who I am probably about to irritate. They may not like hearing me say that far too often, church technology stinks. (Have you looked at any church web sites recently?) There might be a nice way of saying that, but I’m not sure what it is. Sometimes the naked truth needs to be naked.
I suppose it has something to do with the reluctance with which many Christians approach the cutting edge of technology, fearful that it may cut them. I understand that. I consciously avoided texting for several years until it dawned on me that I was missing out on another way to tell my family I loved them. I continue to avoid jumping on the Twitter bandwagon. Blame it on my age if you want; I was born just before the baby boom, and as one who straddles two worlds, I sometimes embrace technology the way I would embrace a porcupine.
I was amused (but not surprised) to discover today that a church I know has a page on facebook, placed there, I would guess, by one of its members. However, nobody knows the page is there, and it contains no information at all beyond the church’s name. Worse yet, the page boldly declares “0 people like this.” Not even the person who created the page? I’m pretty sure that’s not the message this group of believers wants to convey. (Okay, I know you want to go check to see if it’s YOUR church. Go ahead; I’ll wait....)
I am blessed when I come across a church web site that is thoughtfully designed and communicates clearly. It doesn’t happen often, but it does happen. I think the best church web site I have seen belongs to a little congregation of less than 50 people who don’t even have a building. But they know how to use contemporary technology to connect effectively. I used to wonder how (or if) Jesus would have used the web until I remembered that God created a web and called it the church.
Whatever you do - even technology? - do it all to the glory of God.
I suppose it has something to do with the reluctance with which many Christians approach the cutting edge of technology, fearful that it may cut them. I understand that. I consciously avoided texting for several years until it dawned on me that I was missing out on another way to tell my family I loved them. I continue to avoid jumping on the Twitter bandwagon. Blame it on my age if you want; I was born just before the baby boom, and as one who straddles two worlds, I sometimes embrace technology the way I would embrace a porcupine.
I was amused (but not surprised) to discover today that a church I know has a page on facebook, placed there, I would guess, by one of its members. However, nobody knows the page is there, and it contains no information at all beyond the church’s name. Worse yet, the page boldly declares “0 people like this.” Not even the person who created the page? I’m pretty sure that’s not the message this group of believers wants to convey. (Okay, I know you want to go check to see if it’s YOUR church. Go ahead; I’ll wait....)
I am blessed when I come across a church web site that is thoughtfully designed and communicates clearly. It doesn’t happen often, but it does happen. I think the best church web site I have seen belongs to a little congregation of less than 50 people who don’t even have a building. But they know how to use contemporary technology to connect effectively. I used to wonder how (or if) Jesus would have used the web until I remembered that God created a web and called it the church.
Whatever you do - even technology? - do it all to the glory of God.
Sort of New
Tue 11 Jan 2011 Filed in: Reflections
Happy New Year (No, I’m not late. It’s still January, and when you’re retired, that’s close enough.) After a week and a half of mutual new year greetings, the analytical slice of my brain has started to examine those simple, oft-shared three words. My personal hope for 2011 is the same as my wish for Christmas: mellow. After the adventures of the last three years, I think mellow would be both happy and new. I’ll aim for mellow, but I can’t guarantee it; there is much that is beyond my ability to control.
I’ve noticed these past few days how easily the new can slip back into the old. I try to visit my friend the treadmill several times a week. The first Monday of the year, the gym was as crowded as I’ve seen it. Lots of people showed up to fulfill the newness of their resolution. Fast forward one week and the crowd has disappeared. Most of the cardio equipment sits unused, and I have my choice of treadmills. Could that many of my fellow new-year-exercisers have suddenly discovered the proverbial road to hell that is paved with good intentions?
The trouble with hanging on to the new is letting go of the old. Some old stuff is worth keeping. The changing of a year should not erase valued friendships or happy memories. Last week I came across a folder of Matt’s with old annual evaluations in it that had me laughing at his humor and weeping at his tenderness. Neither the journey of loss nor the journey of joy is interrupted by the edges of January.
How much of the old can I hang on to while still grasping the new? How much of the new can I grasp without letting go of the old? Perhaps January is a time for discernment.
Happy sort-of-new year.
I’ve noticed these past few days how easily the new can slip back into the old. I try to visit my friend the treadmill several times a week. The first Monday of the year, the gym was as crowded as I’ve seen it. Lots of people showed up to fulfill the newness of their resolution. Fast forward one week and the crowd has disappeared. Most of the cardio equipment sits unused, and I have my choice of treadmills. Could that many of my fellow new-year-exercisers have suddenly discovered the proverbial road to hell that is paved with good intentions?
The trouble with hanging on to the new is letting go of the old. Some old stuff is worth keeping. The changing of a year should not erase valued friendships or happy memories. Last week I came across a folder of Matt’s with old annual evaluations in it that had me laughing at his humor and weeping at his tenderness. Neither the journey of loss nor the journey of joy is interrupted by the edges of January.
How much of the old can I hang on to while still grasping the new? How much of the new can I grasp without letting go of the old? Perhaps January is a time for discernment.
Happy sort-of-new year.
We Wish You a Mellow Christmas
Our big Christmas dinner was aboard a Waterways yacht on Christmas Eve, sailing Lake Union and Lake Washington for almost three hours. It was a delicious meal, elegantly served, that lasted almost as long as the cruise.
Christmas Day was quiet and at home by choice, the wildest moments coming as the cat tried to unwrap the catnip gift that Suzanne had wrapped for her. A Christmas jigsaw is a family tradition, and Suzanne just finished this year’s version, she being much more talented than I at recognizing the relationships between the pieces. It has been an intentionally mellow Christmas, and it has been very good indeed.
Matt and Joan are with the Lord whose name Emanuel means God with us. The God that they are with is the God who is with us. Relaxing in His presence makes for a great Christmas.
Mellow Christmas, everyone!
Feline Disorientation
The cat is disoriented. I suppose one could argue that that really isn’t anything new. Disorientation seems to be a normal feline state. I remember many years ago in the kid phase of my life that our family had a kitten that mastered the art of walking backwards before it became proficient in walking forward. We would watch the silly beast proceed (or would that be recede?) across the room until she backed into something. (What can I say? It was the 50s and I was easily entertained.)
But I digress. The current source of disorientation is missing furniture. A sofa and chair disappeared to be reupholstered a couple of days ago while the cat was sleeping. Somewhere around 80% of the cat’s life is spent sleeping, a fact that occasionally makes me jealous. The other 20% is mainly occupied with eating, playing, meowing, and disgorging hair balls at inopportune times and places. When the cat awoke and headed for food, she immediately noticed the missing furniture, forgot about eating (I think she has feline ADD) and tried to meow the furniture back into existence. She does not understand why this plan did not work.
Lyle Schaller in one of his books likens the smallest American church congregations to cats. They are highly independent, cute one on one, have great difficulty with change, and hiss and scratch in groups. Some of my friends who pastor cat congregations know what Schaller is talking about; have you ever tried to baptize a cat? The basic problem is that cats by nature resist submission. They believe that they are the center of the universe. Sadly, the people that cats own often reinforce that belief.
The furniture will be back, the cat will recover, and the optimist in me hopes that she will resist scratching the new upholstery. Meanwhile, she is disoriented, and though she doesn’t like it, that might be a good thing.
Lord, please keep me from being too much like the cat.
With Apologies to Clement Moore
‘Twas the week before Christmas and all through my mind
was the certain conviction that I’m in a bind.
I haven’t gone shopping, and what should I buy?
We don’t need more stuff, not a scarf or a tie.
But gifts are important; I know that it’s true;
so I want to find something that says I love you.
If I was omniscient I’d know what to give,
but instead I’m bewildered; my mind’s like a sieve.
On Target, on Costco, and on to the mall;
I just might find something – or nothing at all.
I missed cyber Monday; black Friday is done
I need inspiration, and I’m finding none.
This poem’s not done, I’ll continue to rhyme
‘cause it’s not Christmas eve yet, I’ve still got some time....
Who Cares?
Sun 12 Dec 2010 Filed in: Reflections
Christmas is just two weeks away. I know; you didn’t need the reminder. Black Friday and CyberMonday aside, I haven’t finished my shopping either. (Well, actually I haven’t started it.) But we are in the midst of the season for better or worse, and the chances are it has been better and it has been worse. It is for me a good time to be retired. If Christmas is busy and stressful for the average guy, it is more so for the pastor. In our culture everyone struggles a bit to maintain a proper focus on the meaning of Christmas; pastors, of course, get to help everyone else struggle as well.
I found myself thinking about pastoral Christmases while trying to find a late-night Christmas Eve service. It surprised me to discover how many churches have either no service or one only in the early evening. Before it became irritating, I remembered some of my own pastoral Christmas Eves where time with my own family was sacrificed for time with a congregation. We made that sacrifice willingly, joyfully and without resentment, but now I was glad for the pastors whose Christmas Eve schedule was a bit more relaxed.
They give a lot. And in our consumer-oriented culture, we take a lot (including, often, our pastors for granted) and we don’t much care. Perhaps we should. Your pastor doesn’t need much, but he could use your prayers and your encouragement. He could use them in January and February and beyond as well. This Christmas, how about giving the gift of caring for those who care for you?
I found myself thinking about pastoral Christmases while trying to find a late-night Christmas Eve service. It surprised me to discover how many churches have either no service or one only in the early evening. Before it became irritating, I remembered some of my own pastoral Christmas Eves where time with my own family was sacrificed for time with a congregation. We made that sacrifice willingly, joyfully and without resentment, but now I was glad for the pastors whose Christmas Eve schedule was a bit more relaxed.
They give a lot. And in our consumer-oriented culture, we take a lot (including, often, our pastors for granted) and we don’t much care. Perhaps we should. Your pastor doesn’t need much, but he could use your prayers and your encouragement. He could use them in January and February and beyond as well. This Christmas, how about giving the gift of caring for those who care for you?