Introspection: Looking Back

I share these thoughts hoping they are of help to someone else.

Comments are always welcomed.

If you find these thoughts helpful, please share.

Looking Back

Enter his gates with thanksgiving,

and his courts with praise.

Give thanks to him, bless his name.

For the Lord is good;

his steadfast love endures forever,

and his faithfulness to all generations.

Psalm 100:4-5 (NRSV)

I forgot that I might see

So many beautiful things

I forgot that I might need

To find out what life could bring

From "Beautiful Things" by Andain

Since another calendar year is coming to an end, I spent some time over the past week looking back on 2017.  As I skimmed over my journal entries from the past year, I noticed some recurring themes - or perhaps I should say, recurring feelings.  One feeling is that of loss.  I don't think I've quite gotten over the losses I experienced a couple of years ago, and I suffered even more loss when the church I attended for most of my life closed it's doors in July.  Another recurring theme is anger.  I have a tendency to lose my cool when things go wrong, and it seems that things go wrong all the time.  A third is anxiety.  The things that have worried me over the last few years have not changed, and I feel like I'm always finding new sources of worry.

Probably the theme or feeling that came up in my journal the most during the past year is tiredness.  I lost count of how many times I wrote in my journal, "I'm tired."  I must have spent the entire year exhausted.  I suspect that my tiredness is somehow related to the other feelings I felt last year.

At the beginning of the year, I wrote that, after a prolonged season of pain, frustration, and stagnation in my life, I was trying to reconnect with a certain feeling I felt circa 2010, a stirring I felt in my soul amid a time of movement and positive change in my life.  Years ago, I felt that my life was actually heading somewhere, and I wanted to experience that feeling again after spending far too much time feeling that I've been spinning my wheels.

Looking back over the past year has also given me a chance to evaluate whether or not there has been any change, movement, or growth in my life, despite my feelings to the contrary.

By the middle of the year, I realized that I had unwittingly entered into another season of growth, particularly when it comes to preaching.  I delivered my very first sermon around Christmas of 2008, because I wanted to know if I had it in me to preach.  Since then, I've preached a few times every year, mostly at my home church.  When I left my home church in late 2015, I figured that my preaching "career" was pretty much over.  Ironically, the one thing I was certain I would lose was one thing that actually flourished.  From July of 2016 through June of 2017, I preached more than I had ever preached in any twelve-month span.

In March, a friend of mine who is a pastor asked me to "prayerfully consider" preaching at his church in August.  To be honest, I didn't pray about it: I just said yes.  Often I feel somewhat annoyed when people want something from me; however, when I am asked to preach, I enthusiastically jump at the opportunity, even though I know I will have to give up more of my free time so that I can prepare or revise a sermon.

I delivered my last sermon in August, and I probably will not preach again until February of the new year.  My opportunities to preach have been few lately, mostly because I did a majority of my preaching at my home church, which, as I noted earlier, has closed its doors.  This slow season has given me the opportunity to figure out where I belong in my new church, which I officially joined in September, having attended regularly for more than a year and a half.  I've started taking turns leading Sunday school once again, and I will also start leading my small group when we start meeting again in the new year.  What I like about attending a larger church is that I can focus my energies on doing the things I feel led to do without having to juggle a bunch of hats I have no business wearing.

A few other significant events happened in my life this year.  In March, I taught a class on Wesleyan heritage and doctrine for Lay Servant Ministries.  In April, I was finally certified as a Lay Speaker in the United Methodist Church, meaning that I am now officially certified to do what I've been doing for years.  During the last quarter of the year, I participated in a somewhat intensive study of the Old Testament at my new church.

There was indeed movement and change in my life last year, though my vision was frequently clouded by things like anxiety, frustration, and tiredness.  I have also regained some of what I've lost.  If I have learned anything by looking back on the past year, it is that our feelings, particularly those that weigh us down, might not be the best gauge for our lives.  I am not saying that we should ignore our feelings completely, for, like the warning lights on the dashboard of a car, they might be telling us that we have problems that need to be addressed.  What I am saying is that sometimes we actually need to take an inventory of our lives if we want to see what is really going on, in spite of what our feelings might be telling us.

As you can probably tell, I have a tendency to lose sight of the good things I have in life because I'm so focused on the good things I've lost and the good things I fear I'll never have.  I suppose it's easy to lose sight of the good in life because things like loss and disappointment are painful and, as a result, are difficult to ignore.

So how can I prevent myself from losing sight of the good things in my life?  This is one of those situations in which I already know the solution to my problem but have failed to put it into practice.  I think a good way for us to keep our eyes on the good things in our lives is to practice gratitude.  Practicing gratitude will not negate the painful things of life, but it can serve as a reminder that there is more to life than the painful things by forcing us to take stock of what is good.  Gratitude might also be a good focus for a new year.

It is a common practice to make a resolution at the beginning of a new calendar year, but our New Year's resolutions are utterly useless if we do not take actual steps to meet our goals.  What steps can we take if we want to become more grateful in the new year?  As for me, I think I will start by making it a practice to look back at the end of each day and find at least one thing from the day for which I can be thankful.

As you look back on 2017 and look ahead to 2018, dear reader, may you give thanks for the good things of the past year and bid the bad things a not-so-fond adieu.  May you have a happy - and grateful - new year!


The photograph of the car mirror was taken by Joe Mabel and is used under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.  The photographer is in no way affiliated with this blog.

Christmas Perspective: No Crying He Makes?

I share these thoughts hoping they are of help to someone else.

Comments are always welcomed.

If you find these thoughts helpful, please share.

No Crying He Makes?

The Word became flesh and blood,

and moved into the neighborhood.

We saw the glory with our own eyes,

the one-of-a-kind glory,

like Father, like Son,

Generous inside and out,

true from start to finish.

John 1:14 (MSG)

---

Jesus wept.

John 11:35 (KJV)

Jesus is our childhood's pattern

Day by day like us he grew

He was little, weak, and helpless

Tears and smiles like us he knew

And he feels for all our sadness

And he shares in all our gladness

From "Once in Royal David's City" by Cecil Frances Alexander

Mary had not expected to have her baby in Bethlehem, but, when the empire-wide census was announced, she had no choice but to accompany her fiancé Joseph to his family's hometown to register.  It mattered not that she was more than eight months pregnant.  By the time the couple reached Bethlehem, Mary had gone into labor.  Because they could find no one who would give them shelter in a guest room, they ended taking refuge in a stable.  Mary gave birth to her baby, a Son, and, without a proper crib, she placed Him in a feeding trough.¹

It is this scene in the stable that an anonymous poet sought to capture in the beloved Christmas carol "Away in a Manger."²  This song describes the newborn infant Jesus sweetly sleeping on a bed of hay, with the stars of the nighttime sky looking down upon him.  This song, which many of us learned as children, paints an idyllic picture of the Christmas story, not unlike the typical nativity scene which features a radiant infant, two prayerful parents, some well-groomed shepherds, and some well-behaved animals.

In my opinion, the song "Away in a Manger" does not pay proper respect to the complexity and messiness of the Christmas story.  I suppose that, when we teach little children about the Christmas story through such songs, we don't want to overwhelm them.  That said, the first half of the second verse is, I think, problematic.  The animals in the stable make noise, as barnyard animals often do, waking the Christ child from His slumber.  "But little Lord Jesus," the lyricist contends, "no crying He makes."  Why did the writer make it a point to state that the newborn Christ child did not cry?  Don't all babies cry?

At Christmas, we celebrate the Incarnation.  One early Christian hymn, which is quoted by St. John in his Gospel, teaches us that Christ, the Word of God who is one with God and was present in the creation of the universe, "became flesh and lived among us."³  Another early Christian hymn, which is quoted by St. Paul in one of his letters, describes the Incarnation as a downward journey.

[Christ], though he was in the form of God,

did not regard equality with God

as something to be exploited,

but emptied himself,

taking the form of a slave,

being born in human likeness.⁴

Christ left behind the glory and power of godhood to take on the frail flesh and blood of humanity.  Theologians sometimes refer to this self-emptying descent of Christ from the glory of heaven to the messiness of earth as Kenosis.⁵

It is important that, amid our Christmas celebration, we do not lose sight of what it means that Christ came to dwell among us as a human.  If Christ was truly born into this world as a human baby, then He must have done all of the adorable, annoying, and disgusting things that human babies do.  He talked in gibberish; He got more food on his clothes than He did in His mouth at feeding times; He cried when Mary and Joseph wanted to sleep; He became gassy and needed to be burped; He spat up; and He even needed to have His diapers changed multiple times a day.

Try to wrap your mind around the idea that the Son of God, almighty and eternal like His Father, at one time needed someone to feed Him and change His diapers.  That, dear reader, is what Kenosis looks like.

So why is it so important that the baby Jesus cried?

Regarding the song "Away in a Manger," professor of theology Cynthia L. Rigby writes,
No crying?  Why do we say he doesn't cry?  Perhaps because we know he is God, and God can't cry.  On some level, we tend to reason to ourselves that, if Jesus is God, the whole baby thing must be kind of a disguise.  He must have been not just an ordinary baby... he must have been a "superbaby."⁶

If Jesus didn't cry human tears, then He did not fully enter into the human experience, and, if He did not fully enter into the human experience, then He does not truly understand us.  Rigby continues,
We don't need a hero, we don't need a God who puts on a disguise and infiltrates our reality only to rescue us.  We need a God who is one of us, a God who understands us, a God who is with us, a God who has entered into relationship with us and who saves us because God is with us and for us.  And this is who God in Jesus Christ is.⁷

The sixteenth century Spanish mystic St. John of the Cross tells the story of the Incarnation through a series of poems.  John imagines a conversation between Christ and God the Father.  The Father tells the Son that a groom and his bride must be alike, meaning that the Son must be born as a human.  In the Hebrew Scriptures, the relationship between God and God's people is sometimes compared to a marriage, and early Christians appropriated this metaphor, describing the Church as the Bride of Christ.  Christ agrees with His Father, and the Father sends the archangel Gabriel to ask the Virgin Mary to give birth to the Son of God, thereby allowing Him to become human.⁸

When the time comes for Christ to leave His chamber and embrace His Bride, He is placed in a manger by His mother.  There the Bride and the Groom exchange wedding gifts.  Humanity receives the joy of heaven, and Christ receives the tears of humanity.⁹  Unlike the author of "Away in a Manger," St. John of the Cross envisions a Christ child who actually cries in the manger, having truly become like the humans He came to embrace.

Man gave forth a song of gladness,

God Himself a plaintive moan;

Both possessing that which never

Had been hitherto their own.¹⁰

At Christmas, we remember the story of the Incarnation.  We remember that Christ came into the world to save humanity, becoming like the very humans He came to save and immersing Himself fully into the messiness of the human experience.  We want our Christmas celebrations to be free of tears, but we would do well not to edit the tears out of the Christmas story, lest we forget that Christ, our Savior, actually understands us and empathizes with us.


Notes:

1. Luke 2:1-7
2. Wikipedia: "Away in a Manger"
3. John 1:1-3, 14 (NRSV)
4. Philippians 2:6-7 (NRSV)
5. Wikipedia: "Kenosis"
6. Cynthia L. Rigby.  "More Than a Hero: The Practical Implications of the Incarnation in Ministry with Youth."  The 1999 Princeton Lectures on Youth, Church, and Culture.
7. ibid.
8. See the poem "The Incarnation" and the following poem "The Same Subject" by St. John of the Cross.
9. See the poem "The Nativity" by St. John of the Cross.
10. Stanza VI of "The Nativity"

Adoration of the Shepherds was painted by Gerard van Honthorst in the early 1600s.

Introspection: Moments of Grace

I share these thoughts hoping they are of help to someone else.

Comments are always welcomed.

If you find these thoughts helpful, please share.

Moments of Grace

Won't you look away long enough

for me to swallow my spit?

Are you harmed by my sin, you jailer?

Why use me for your target practice?

Am I so great a burden to you?

Job 7:19-20 (GNT)

---

But this I call to mind,

and therefore I have hope:

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,

his mercies never come to an end;

they are new every morning;

great is your faithfulness.

"The Lord is my portion," says my soul,

"therefore I will hope in him."

Lamentations 3:21-24 (NRSV)

That's me in the corner

That's me in the spotlight

Losing my religion

From "Losing My Religion" by R.E.M.

Have you ever noticed how much blame God catches?  Not too long ago, a friend of mine noted in Sunday school that the phrase act of God is never used to describe anything good.  A case in point is that in legal jargon an "act of God" is a natural disaster for which nobody can be held liable.¹  On one episode of Seinfeld, George Costanza remarks to his therapist that God would never allow him to be happy or successful.  The therapist says to him, "I thought you didn't believe in God."  George replies, "I do for the bad things."²

I like to think that my theology is better than that of insurance companies and unbalanced sitcom characters, but sometimes, I'm sad to say, my perception of God is just as bad.

I've recently started taking turns teaching Sunday school once again, having officially joined my new church a few months ago.  Actually, I should probably say that I've started taking turns leading Sunday school, since my class is a lot more discussion-based than the class I taught previously.  Last Sunday, I tried to print the article we would be discussing in class, planning to make copies in the church office after I went to breakfast.  When the paper came out of the printer, I noticed that it was blank.  For some reason, no ink was coming out of the black ink cartridge, even though wasn't empty.  I even switched the ink cartridge to be certain.  I spent at least forty minutes trying to print the article, to no avail.

I tried to keep my cool, but inevitably I lost my temper.  Finally, I put the article on a thumb drive, so that I could skip breakfast, print the article at church, and then hungrily sit through church and Sunday school.  I should note that I've waited until after church to eat breakfast many times without starving to death, but I don't particularly like to change my plans at the last minute, especially when obstinate machinery is involved.

I was looking forward to leading Sunday school that morning.  I thought that the class was going to have a very interesting discussion.  Like so many times when I've found myself subject to "the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune," I began to think that the projectiles were coming from Above.  For some reason, it seems that, whenever I start feeling good about myself, something comes along to take the proverbial wind out of my sails.  I know that excessive pride is not a good thing, but sometimes I wonder if God doesn't want me to have any pride whatsoever.  Like the biblical character Job, I've wished that God would leave me alone and start taking potshots at someone else for a while, perhaps someone a little more deserving of the abuse.

Before I continue, I would like to admit that I have a tendency to be a bit melodramatic when things go wrong.  What I laughably call suffering, which is really just but a bunch of "first world problems," is nothing like the suffering Job faced.  I did not lose my wealth, my health, and my children in a very short span of time like Job did.³  If I'm honest, I have to admit that all of my "Why have You forsaken me?" moments are really just "Why can't I get my crap together?" moments.

When I arrived at church, I found that the doors were still locked, so I went to get breakfast as I had originally planned.  I was the first customer through the door of the restaurant, so I had plenty of time to enjoy my breakfast and drink some coffee.  I went on to church, and, when I was unable to print the article from my thumb drive, Christine, one of my pastors, found the article on the Internet and made the copies for me.

My moment of frustration was followed by a moment of grace.

So where was God in all this?  Did God cause my printer to malfunction just knock me down a peg?  Or did God orchestrate the moment of grace I experienced afterward?  In my anger, I assumed the former, but, when I calmed down, I started to believe the latter.  To be honest, I don't really know what God did or did not do, but I know that I cannot blame God for one thing without thanking God for the other.  I doubt that God caused my printer to malfunction, but, if God did cause the problem, I can assume it was for my benefit, because God is loving and not spiteful.  Perhaps I needed to learn that I should be better prepared.  Perhaps I needed to learn that I do not have to be as self-sufficient as I want to be and that people will help me in times of need.

This is not the first time in my life a moment of frustration gave way to a moment of grace.  Nearly two years ago, on the evening before Christmas Eve, all of my Christmas shopping was completed, and all of the presents I had bought were wrapped and under the tree.  I felt pretty proud of myself - for a moment.  I visited my grandmother so that I could vacuum her living room floor, as she had asked me to do.  Because I ran the vacuum cleaner while my mom was using the microwave, we tripped a circuit breaker.  We had trouble restoring power in certain rooms, and, as I am wont to do in such situations, I became angry with myself and acted like a complete jackass.  Eventually my mom found the correct circuit breaker.

I left my grandmother's house and went to a coffee shop, no longer feeling proud of myself.  It was late, but the baristas had not yet turned off the oven, so I was still able to order something to eat.  I took a sip of my coffee, and it scalded my mouth.  I then remembered the biblical story in which the prophet Isaiah finds himself in the presence of God and assumes that he is a goner, as he is "a man of unclean lips," not unlike myself.  A heavenly creature hears his lament, takes a live coal from the altar, and touches his mouth with it, cleansing him of his guilt.⁴  Perhaps my unclean lips had been cleansed as well.

I wonder if the reason I so often assume God is angry with me is that I'm actually angry with myself.  In other words, perhaps I project my anger with myself onto God.  Perhaps I realized deep down that waiting until Sunday morning to print something I needed for Sunday school was a rather stupid thing to do.

On the same Sunday I had problems with my printer, Jonathan, my other pastor, encouraged the congregation to have a "merciful Christmas," by showing mercy to others and also to ourselves.  We want our Christmas celebrations to be perfect, but we need to cut ourselves some slack when something inevitably goes wrong.⁵  It was a timely message for me.  To show oneself mercy when things go wrong is a difficult lesson for perfectionistic types like me to learn, but it is a lesson we must learn nonetheless.

When I pray, I often address God as "Most gracious and loving God," perhaps to remind myself that God is indeed gracious and loving.  I encourage you, dear reader, to remember that God is compassionate, even when life is cruel.  I also encourage you to cut yourself some slack when you mess up.  If God is merciful to us, then we can afford to be merciful to ourselves.  Even when we've "lost our religion," so to speak, we need not lose our faith.


Notes:

1. Wikipedia: "Act of God"
2. "The Pilot."  Seinfeld.  NBC.  05/20/1993.  Television.
3. Job 1-2
4. Isaiah 6:1-7 (NRSV)
5. Jonathan Tompkins.  "The Merciful One."  Travelers Rest United Methodist Church podcast, 12/10/2017.

The photograph of the cup of coffee was taken by Benjamin Balázs and is public domain.

Advent Perspective: An Advent Prayer

I share these thoughts hoping they are of help to someone else.

Comments are always welcomed.

If you find these thoughts helpful, please share.

An Advent Prayer

The people who walked in darkness

have seen a great light;

those who lived in a land of deep darkness -

on them light has shined.

Isaiah 9:2 (NRSV)

O come, O Bright and Morning Star

And bring us comfort from afar

Dispel the shadows of the night

And turn our darkness into light

From "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel"

as translated by John Mason Neale

For many, the Christmas season began nine days ago, on the day after Thanksgiving Day.  That day is commonly known as Black Friday, for retailers hope to get back "in the black," so to speak, as people begin shopping for Christmas presents.

The Church, on the other hand, has not rushed straight into the Christmas season, for both of the high holy days on the Church calendar are preceded by more somber seasons of preparation.  Today is the first Sunday in Advent, the season that precedes Christmas.  During this season, churches light candles for hope, peace, joy, and love, and we who are Christians remember that, like the ancient Jewish people who awaited a Messiah and the age of peace He would bring, we wait for the One we believe to be this Messiah to come back into the world to set all things right.

As I've noted previously, I've come to view Advent as a season of longing.  We light candles for hope, peace, joy, and love, not because we are experiencing these things, but because we long for them.  We long for our Savior to return and set things right in the world, because we know that not all is right with the world.

A few years ago, as my understanding of Advent was evolving, I wrote an Advent prayer for an assignment for a class on leading prayer.  I've dusted off this prayer and made some revisions, and I offer it to you today, hoping that, as we light candles for hope, peace, joy, and love this season, we will remember those who desperately need them.

Most loving and gracious God,

we live in a world oppressed by darkness.

Help us to be ever mindful

of those who are desperate to see the light of Christ.

Lord, in Your mercy,

hear our prayer.

Encourage those who are trapped in despair,

and lift them out of their desperate situations,

that they may experience the hope You bring.

Lord, in Your mercy,

hear our prayer.

Bring tranquility to those who live in places of fear -

war zones on the other side of the globe

and violent households down the street -

that they may know Your peace, which passes all understanding.

Lord, in Your mercy,

hear our prayer.

Comfort those who are trudging through a time of sorrow,

that they may feel the joy of being in Your presence.

Lord, in Your mercy,

hear our prayer.

Heal the hearts of those who are afflicted by hate -

those who have received the hatred of others

and those who harbor hatred for others -

that they may know You, the One who is love itself.

Lord, in Your mercy,

hear our prayer.

Pour out your Holy Spirit upon us,

that we may reflect the light of Christ

into the places of darkness around us.

Lord, in Your mercy,

hear our prayer.

These things we ask in the name of Christ,

who came into the world as a Light to humanity,

the Word of God made flesh,

Light from Light,

true God from true God.

Amen.

Advent is the darkness before the dawn.  It is a season of longing for salvation from things like despair, fear, sorrow, and hate.  It is a season for those of us who look at the darkness in the world around us and, like the ancient prophet, desperately wish that God would rip open the heavens, come down to earth, and do something about it.¹  It is a season when we remember that it was a dark world into which the Light of the World came and that the darkness does not overcome the Light.²


Notes:

1. Isaiah 64:1-2
2. John 1:5

The photograph of the Advent candles was taken by me in December 2014 at Bethel United Methodist Church in Greenville, South Carolina.