Calm in the midst of a (snow) storm

Mark 4:35-41

After going most of December without snow and even enjoying 50 degree weather the first week of January, Wisconsin has once again realized it is not Florida. Over the past couple of weeks snow has caused me to cancel meetings, nurse sore muscles that I had not used since shoveling last winter, and remember that some drivers treat snow fall like a sort of invincibility shield thinking that the two inches of space is plenty of room to pull into on-coming traffic.

And so when I read about Jesus resting at the back of the boat, I must confess I am a bit jealous. In the midst of life with kids activities, school events, work, cleaning, and did I mention about trying to keep the driveway clean of snow? It is difficult to find rest, especially in the midst of a storm.

The waves crashed in on the boat, the disciples were yelling, there was loud commotion, and Jesus was snoozing in the back of the boat. It is such an odd scene, I can't help but laugh. Either Jesus was really tired or was like my college roommate could slept through fire alarms. Like so many times we encounter humor in scripture, when the laughter subsides is the moment the scripture writers make their point.

"Peace...Be Still" Jesus says. Most of the time I've thought that Jesus was saying both to the storm all around. More and more I think that that one of those comments and maybe even both were actually directed at the disciples.

How in the world do we find peace in the midst of the snow storms of life? How in the world can we be still when there is so much to do? Ever try to sit still when you have a nagging sense that there is something you are suppose to or could be doing? In those moments, my mind keeps screaming..."Don't just sit there...do something." And the only way to quiet the voice is to get up and respond to the laundry that needs folding or the lawn that needs mowing.

Those words are powerful especially since one chapter earlier, Chapter 3, Jesus confronted the idea of Sabbath by healing a man who lived with a diseased hand. Even as Jesus says you cannot legislate Sabbath, a short time later, he finds his own Sabbath space. He finds time (to quote Barbara Brown Taylor) when he is "good for nothing" and rests.

I pray this morning as the sunlight glistens off the newly fallen snow that we would find moments of rest and especially the peace Jesus spoke in the midst of the storm to the disciples. And may that moment of rest and peace grant you the openness to sense the traces of God's grace in your life.

Blessings, peace and grace.

Seeds

Mark 4:1-20

Quick review of Mark so far...

There is a proclamation of good news... the Heavens are ripped open, Jesus is tempted, and John is arrested. This makes our news today seem down right chipper. But, God is on the loose in our world in such a way that life cannot go back to usual just because the Christmas tree is down and we got our credit card bill in the mail.

Mark continues with stories of healing. Jesus does not begin his ministry with a sermon, but with reaching out in relationships. Something good for me to remember. While it would be a whole different way of being and doing church, I wonder how powerful it would be to gather in people's homes for several Sundays in a row to talk, worship, sing, pray and most importantly nurture relationships with each other? That might challenge our faith in a new, good way.

In chapter 4, we encounter one of the first parables in Mark, that of the worst seed planter in history. The person either does not know what he is doing or is careless. It is a strange time to be talking about seeds. The ground is frozen. Tomorrow there is a projection for our first serious snow fall of the year. While we might be dreaming about spring, no one is even close to going out into the back yard to plant seeds into the rich Rock County soil.

So, the parable is jarring on two levels - it is the wrong season and the seed sower (to put a positive spin on things) is eccentric. After the story lingers in the air for a while and the crowd goes away scratching their collective heads, the disciples ask, 'what in the world are you talking about Jesus?' (That is a paraphrase).

Jesus says the sower is someone who offers a word of good news. The sower is the one who comes with words not of selling something or words of indisputable correctness or even careless words. The words are good news kind of words. The kind of words we centered ourselves around during the month of December in Advent: hope, peace, joy and love.

Even if that is the case, my tendency is to be really careful with those kinds of words. Don't talk about hope too much, someone might be going through a rough time. Don't talk about peace too much, the television shows too many images where peace feels far away. Don't talk about joy, the economy is bad. Don't talk about love, less people think I don't notice reality all around.

Part of what I hear Jesus saying is that we can be generous and even careless and certainly extravagant with our words of good news. Therein is the rub. It is easier for me to grumble about the bad news of television rather than go out and offer good news to an albeit smaller audience but nevertheless fertile soil. This is a good passage for any of us who ever open our mouths to speak. The point may not be whether our words grow into Jack and the Beanstalk like plants or little green sprouts that stay small. The question the parable leaves me with as I enter into a new year is, what words are falling from my mouth? And I don't think it means I always have to be peskily optimistic. There is always room for honesty. There is always room to name injustice and brokenness. And there is always room to notice and name the light that is streaming in from the cracks in our life.

May the traces of God's grace be found in the words that fall from your mouth this week into the soil of your life and the lives of those around you. May the traces of God's grace be found in words spoken honestly and hopefully.

Blessings and peace.

Healing

Click to read Mark 1:21-45

Mark begins his Gospel, which means Good News, by telling us that the heavens are ripped open, Jesus is tempted in the wilderness and John the Baptizer is arrested. Really? That is suppose to be good news? Yet, as Don Juel points out, when the Heavens are ripped open is because God is on the loose in the world.
After calling Simon, Andrew, James and John to follow him, Jesus begins to heal people. Healing and the church have a strange history. To be sure some of the first hospitals were founded and run by churches, priests were some of the first physicians, but there is also that pesky Exorcist film as well as televangelists claiming to heal people instantly on stage that has driven a wedge of skepticism in people's minds when it comes to religion and healing.
I recently toured a new hospital opening in the city where I live in. I had never seen a surgical room before, but as I glanced in there were computers and pinpoint precision lasers and lots of other cool things that I did not have the foggiest idea what it was used for. The tour guide made sure to point out how state of the art things were and how seriously this hospital would take healing people.
Don't get me wrong, I am glad for the marvels of modern medicine. But I also have bumped up against its limits. I have sat with families who cannot believe the doctor cannot do anything more to cure them. I have seen families ready to say 'goodbye' to loved ones, only to have doctors unable/unwilling to stop. Even with all the best equipment in the world, we know that our bodies are mortal and finite.
And while I don't want to return to a time of pastors as doctors (I am pretty squeamish around blood), I do think there is a key difference between healing and wholeness that we do not talk about. I may feel physically fine, but emotionally be a wreak. I may be happy as can be, but the only thing that seems to soothe my soul is an addiction to alcohol or shopping.
Today we divide our bodies up to specialists. We go to someone who knows all about the heart, to another person who knows all about the pain in our foot, to someone else who helps us work through our emotions and then off to church. Part of the gospel claim is that we are more than the sum of our parts. We are whole-ly (holy) created in the image of God.
The healing narratives tell us of Jesus talking with the person living with illness or seeing people as whole people even with the illness. I pray as people of faith we would see ourselves as whole people, see the connections within us, from our tiny pinkie toe to the hair on the top of our head - no matter how much hair might be up there. I think there is healing in seeing ourselves as whole people, and encouraging others to see us that way too.

May traces of God's grace be found as you look in the mirror and into the eyes of those you bump up against this week.

Blessings

In Between

Beginning this Sunday, January 1 and through Easter morning, I will be walking sequentially through the Gospel of Mark in our Sunday morning worship. Some of my upcoming posts will be on the passages in Mark I will not be preaching on. You can hear the sermons I do preach on through the church's website. I will also still post traces of God's grace that I notice within my life. I hope these in between passages along with the sermons will help open you to the mystery and power of Mark's story telling.

Click here to read Mark 1:21-45

Jesus begins his ministry in the wilderness through baptism and prayer. It is Mark's nod to Exodus where the Jewish people wandered for forty long years. Out of the wilderness, Jesus gathers and attracts a community of people around him. We often marvel at the willingness of the disciples to leave a job in order to follow him. And yet, in Jesus' day to be invited to follow a teacher or a rabbi was like getting into an esteemed college. It was a huge honor to be asked to be a disciple. And while their were sacrifices, in Mark's gospel we read that there were still connections with family (see 1:29-31).
What sticks out for me in verses 21-45 are the vivid word choices Mark employs. He uses words like 'astonished' (22); 'cried out' (24); 'rebuked' (25); amazed (27); 'fame' (28); and my favorite - Simon and the others 'hunted' (36) for Jesus.
It is odd language. It is evocative and emotional. And not exactly the sort of words we usually associate with the gospels.
Mark uses words like begging, kneeling, moved with compassion (which literally means to 'have your bowels moved), and sternly ordering.
And because Mark uses an economy of words, you center in on this strong words that awaken a strong reaction.
While it is interesting to contemplate why Mark used these active, emotional, strong words.

What sticks with me more is this...

When was the last time you had your faith stirred?

When was the last time you were astounded or cried out or felt your whole self moved deeply or even were bend on finding the sacred?

I grew up in a part of the Protestant faith that is self described as 'heady'. We analyze and hypothesize and intellectualize. I often have felt like our deepest goal is to come up with a sound, rational argument for faith.
Now, don't get me wrong, I enjoy thinking. But living in my head can cut me off from emotions and the rest of my body. I believe when God created us in God's image God did so with the prayer that we would be thinking and feeling and living full human embodied beings. God created us whole-ly (and holy). That means if we live too long in our minds or hearts or physical needs/wants, we become disconnected from the other parts of ourselves that are important.

What I love about Mark is that you feel his passion for telling the story about Jesus jump off the page. I image Mark (whoever that was) feverishly writing, unable to do anything else until he got this deeply felt confession off his chest. He invites you into that same feeling.

So, when was the last time your faith was deeply stirred or you felt so compelled to respond to the traces of God's grace in your life?

I hope you will ponder that question as we approach a new year and new beginning. I pray you will sense God's presence within your life in a real way. May the God of active verbs and who loves us fully surround you and sustain you throughout 2012.

Peace.

Merry Christmas

On a silent night
On a holy night
Long ago the first faint gleam of Christmas
Broke into our world
It all happened in a little town of Bethlehem
And while others might have said, 'what child is this?'
Two parents knew in their hearts who the child was
Who slept away in a manger
But that wasn't all
Angel from the realms of glory
Sang out with gusto to shepherd who watched their flock by night
And hark the herald angels sing out still
The good news of great joy to all people
Unto us a child was born
Unto us a son give
Who is the light to the world
Who is the response to the prayer, O Come, O Come Emmanuel
Who is Christ.

As we inch toward that silent night and holy night this year,
May God's unconditional and unceasing love's pure light
Shine forth in your life.

Thank you for reading Grace Traces...I look forward to continuing to share random thoughts and moments when I notice the traces of God's grace in my life in ways that hopefully speak deeply to your heart, life, and faith throughout 2012.

Merry Christmas to you and God's peace in 2012

Stage Set

Over the last several weeks, I have been searching for a new nativity set. Our current set is made of porcelain and is fragile. I really wanted one my kids could touch without sending my anxiety soaring that they might drop one of the pieces.

One of the reason why I think nativity sets are important is they invite us to stand in the straw. We see the scene and we are drawn into the stable to be part of the cast of characters witnessing the birth of Jesus. But most importantly, creche pieces are met to be held in our hands because the whole set proclaims the most basic, profound truth of Christmas: God comes into our lives, God moves into our neighborhood, God in flesh and bone.

Christmas is not some abstract idea about God. Rather, Christmas proclaims loud and clear that the living, breathing, laughing, crying, eating with outcasts, calling fishermen and women at the well to be disciples, story telling, bread breaking, trial facing, death conquering God comes into our life again as 2011 dwindles and 2012 dawns. That is what holding a porcelain shepherd or sheep or Mary or Joesph and especially a small baby Jesus means to me.

So, I started searching. When we were out shopping, I'd wander over to the Christmas display and usually there was one creche scene set up...but they just did not get for me.

So, I started searching the internet. And I found out that the first nativity scene was a living nativity done by St. Francis of Assisi in 1223. That will be a really cool fact if I am ever on Jeopardy! But did not really help my search.

So, I started looking on Amazon. I found a really interesting nativity set featuring ducks which reminds me that there are some strange things in this world.

So, I kept searching and even discovered that at one time in England people would make a mince pie and said that as the cradle of Christ. While I am not sure about the sacredness of a rubber duck nativity, I am okay with the sacredness of pie. But, atlas, the Puritans did away with this tradition calling it, "an idolatry of crust."

And we thought we had problems today.

My problem was still finding a creche scene I was comfortable letting my kids get close enough to so they could sense the good news of the Christmas story.

But then amid my searching, one night I watched as my daughter carefully handled each of the porcelain pieces, setting the scene with such grace. I watched my son not argue with her about the scene, but he watched peacefully.

Suddenly, I realized what I was really looking for...I had already found. Right there, without a new set or one of ducks or even one made of pie. While I was searching, my kids had already found the profound truth: God is with us in ways that stirs our hearts to act with care and kindness and love.

May serendipitous moments of God's grace be seen in your life this week as we continue to travel to the stable and manger where love's pure light shines forth and makes all the difference.

Grace and peace to you all this Advent season.

Left...over

My family and I are still noshing on leftover turkey. Which got me thinking about how leftovers have really gotten a bad reputation over the years. True...turkey sandwiches night after night can numb the taste buds...but leftovers can also inspire us to try new recipes or even experiment with our own culinary talents.

And that got me thinking about the sermon I preached on Jeremiah 18:1-11 a few weeks ago...Thanksgiving weekend actually. There are some times I want a mulligan on sermons. Not that the one I preach was necessarily bad (you can click here to hear the "Reformed and Reshaped sermon) It was just that I could sense that a few of the pieces were not quite coming together the way I'd like.

This passage from Jeremiah talks about God being like a potter who reworks a 'marred' piece of clay. On the surface, this can feel like a less than affirming image of God or of us as humanity either. To be sure, we all have flaws or things we want to change. But to think of God reshaping those flaws or even us entirely feels forceful. Not to mention, we are surrounded by images daily that point out our shortcomings when it comes to our skin, our clothes, our car, the top ten ways we could be a better parent, save more, and have fresher breath. I want to come to church and for a few fleeting moments remember that I have gifts and do occasionally get things right and that God sees that too.

Yet the more I have thought of this image of a potter and clay, the less I am convinced that there is really anything forceful about it. Think of it this way. If you are working with clay and the vase you are shaping ends up like a blob in your hand; chances are you will be a bit frustrated. If when you start to reshape and reform that clay you are still carrying that frustration, if the tension sits on your shoulders, there is a really good chance the clay is going to rebel and become misshaped just like it did the first time.

You have to work with the clay (not against it or force it). You have to be in tune to places where the clay is getting too thin or the shape is starting to be distorted. Doing that in a frustrated or angry way just does not work. How much more for us as humans involved in this profound and life giving relationship with God?

So, if God is reshaping us and reforming us, I don't believe it is done in frustration at all. Just as clay can have a life of its own...so much more for you and I. God's reworking sees our potential, sees the way you and I are taking shape, sees where we are running a bit thin (especially this time of year).

Two weeks ago, I wish I would have had that insight.

But then again, like the leftover turkey tetrazzini my family will be enjoying tonight, I might have missed a chance to write this post.

May God's presence and peace surround you during this sacred time of year in a way that gives you strength and fills you with God's love. May the traces of God's grace be felt as we inch closer to Bethlehem this Advent season.