Marking Time

Eight years ago this week, I became a father.

And twenty months later, I became a father again.

Even though you have nine months to prepare to welcome a baby into your life, it is unfathomable how upside down your life becomes in the span of a few weeks. Those first few sleep deprived months of my son's life were a daze. You hold in your hands this vulnerable baby and the enormity of raising, shaping, caring for a life weights on your heart. The gospels tell us that Jesus came to us in the form of a baby. As much as we sing about a Silent Night and Holy Night when Jesus Away in a Manger, 'no crying he made,' there was an enormity of caring for Jesus that sat on the shoulders of Mary and Joesph that every parent can relate to.

It is too bad that the gospels don't have many stories about Jesus growing up. Luke 2:41 records a brief encounter Jesus had in the temple at age 12 with the leaders at Passover. But in some ways this is a foreshadowing of how Jesus will encounter the religious leaders at Passover when he came riding on a donkey at Palm Sunday and set in motion the holy drama of Holy Week. Luke's brief narrative ends with these words, "Jesus increased in wisdom and in years and in divine and human favor." Which is a nice way of saying, he grew up.

Watching my son and daughter grow up is a blurry joy at times. Each child has a unique personality. My son is so serious at time and can be anxious about things (It is great when you see your own personality idiosyncrasies reflected in your child). He has a great sense of humor... that I don't always understand. My daughter is care free and has the ability to enjoy life deeply (It is great when you see personality idiosyncrasies you'd like to have reflected in your child). And every morning she has a slow....motion....mode...that...seems...to....take...for...ever...to...get... out...the...door...to...get...to...school.

Celebrating my son's birthday this week helped me realize that birthdays are a way we mark time. Both the passage of time as well as what is to come. My son already talks about when he can learn to drive a car or sit in the front seat. I am not someone who wants to pause time. I realize you cannot capture or contain moments in a bottle. I try my best to immerse myself in the moment, the joy of the moment. Even last night when I am standing on a hill freezing and can't feel my fingers from the cold watching my son play flag football. But, it takes practice to immerse myself in the moment. I can get caught up in looking back or looking forward. Marking time is less about the calendar than it is about noticing fully the present moment.

So, as the autumn air turns crisp around us. As more and more leaves swirl in the breeze, may you find ways to mark time in a way that opens you to traces of God's grace all around you. Blessings and peace and happy 8th birthday to my son!

When Words Become Stories

One of the problems people of faith face is how to convey what faith is. While scientists have a whole method or mathematicians have lots of formulas, the grounding of faith is words. Or more specific, the Word or scripture. Over time pastors have spilled lots of ink into sermons and newsletter articles and now blogs to try to capture and cultivate faith. Here is the problem. Words are intellectual by their nature. You are reading these words on your computer screen and it engages the part of your brain that likes to think. You begin to think about whether what you are reading makes sense, where I am being unclear, or where my words fall short or even fail.

For many, many years (beginning with the Enlightenment) pastors thought if we could just come up with the right combination of words it would unlock the right synapse in people's brains and everyone would believe. In short, for far too long, pastors tried to prove faith.
As my son likes to say...there is one small problem with that.

You can't prove faith.

You can experience a sensation in your gut that says there is something going on here that is bigger or deeper than what you can explain.

You can experience goose bumps on your arms or the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

You can experience the hug of a fellow disciple on the Way that reassures you.

To be honest, that doesn't really prove faith. It does not prove that God exists. It does not prove anything...other than you had a meaningful, life giving, life changing experience.

In the end, that is what faith is...a meaningful, life giving and life changing experience. It is something that happens to you that forever, profoundly shapes how you understand and tell your story about who you are.

Here is my invitation. For one week listen to how people tell stories. In the stories you hear from your co-work, is he always the hero who swoops in at the last second like Mighty Mouse ("Here I come to save the day!")? How about that person you volunteer beside. Is she always the one who makes the mistake?

Then, if you really want a challenge, listen to how you tell stories about yourself.

I am prone to always be the bumbling person...even though in truth I work very, very hard to NOT make mistakes. What does that say that the stories I tell about myself tend to be self-effacing?

But what, the logical part of your brain interrupts, does all this have to do with faith? GREAT question. I think that at the most basic level faith is experienced and shared and conveyed through story. In a few weeks, we are going to be studying the book of Exodus, which is the quintessential story. It has everything. Drama, love, death, grumbling, wandering, miracles. No wonder The Ten Commandments made a great movie.

When we stop trying to play by the world's rules that things have to be logical and rational and always make sense, I think we open the door for the church to be the church. Life is not logical and rational and doesn't always make sense. Life is sometimes joyful like ice cream on a summer evening. Life is sometimes difficult like when you lose your job. or a person you love dies And the way we live life is through stories. So, listen this week to the stories you hear. Not just on the news or in novels, but from those who brush up against in your life.

And you may just notice traces of grace in the stories you hear and share.

Blessings and peace