Beyond Expectations

There is a cultural standard for what Christmas “should” be. However, it is an illusion.

Preparing for the birth of Jesus, we too often buy into the illusion. I mean, how can we not? It surrounds us, saturating our world with priorities designed to fatten the bottom line of big box stores and shopping websites. We are cajoled into creating “the perfect Christmas,” and you are in luck, because it just so happens to be on sale today!

But what if this year we set a different standard? What if the standard for Christmas was grace? How would that look? What would that feel like? What would change?

Maybe we ought to stop preparing ourselves for Christmas according to what Pinterest tells us it should look like, and start preparing ourselves for Christmas according to the words of the prophets and the compelling “Prepare the way of the Lord!” we hear from the wilderness.

This year’s Advent worship series at Campbell UMC is titled “Beyond Expectations: A Season of Grace.” I am hopeful that the intense, taxing expectations we often feel at this time of year will be lessened as we focus our hearts and minds on “the dawn of redeeming grace” that should relieve our stress, rather than increase it.

Christmas Eve

Christmas has come, and it feels familiar.

Comfortable arrival at a holy night.

Mission accomplished, job well done,

we sang the songs, we lit the lights.

Yes, familiar. But before we get settled

the sages may yet have a sermon, a song,

a word of caution. No, not to prolong

the moment, but to right the wrong.

Is there an announcement we need to hear?

The glory of God caused the shepherds to fear,

and perhaps the good news should arrest our plans.

The birth of a child to a woman and man

just like you and me … magnificently ordinary.

Christmas has come, and it feels familiar.

But maybe it shouldn't. Maybe there’s more

than traditions renewed and expectations met.

Maybe there’s music yet to be written.

Maybe there’s a story still being told.

Maybe there are terrified shepherds shivering still,

waiting to hear the news, needing to know

Jesus.

There’s a song in the air, and that song is Jesus, Emmanuel, God with us.

We welcome you, long-expected Jesus. We greet your arrival with familiar sights and smells and flavors and sounds. Familiar ... and yet new every year. There is a song in the air, both familiar and new, a song that is and was and ever shall be, Amen.

Be A Light Infiltration

The anticipation has built just about as high as it possibly can. The expectations are through the roof at this point. The excitement, the hope, the eager longing…

No, I’m not talking about “Star Wars: Rogue One” coming out (although that is right up there near the top of the list).

I’m talking about CHRISTMAS!!! The birth of Jesus, the angels and the shepherds, the shining lights in the sky. And underneath all of that, the love of God sent in human form so that the entire world might know peace, forgiveness, salvation.

Christmas begins on the 25th, and continues for twelve days of celebration of Jesus’s birth. I love how, as the Christmas season begins, the days start lengthening.

It is as if with the birth of Christ, the darkness immediately starts to retreat and the Light of the World shines, illuminating the pain and prejudice, the injustice and oppression, all the loneliness and fear in human hearts - all infiltrated by divine light.

I encourage you to enter the season of Christmas as a reflection of God’s light. Let your words and actions infiltrate the darkness of this world with the light of Christ. Do not allow injustice to go unchallenged. Do not allow hatred to rule the hour. Do not allow pride and prejudice to govern the hearts and minds of people around you.

Be a light! Even a solitary flickering candle illuminates a dark room. Jesus says, “Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” May we infiltrate the darkness of this world, shining the living light of Christ this holy season!

Advent - Week 4

We have come so far; we’re almost there.

If we could only reach out, stretch our arm

a bit more, into the dark, into the air

where a song is spinning, “Repent! Prepare!”

John interrupts, in his coarse camel hair,

“Who warned you, snakes? The ax is sharp,

the fire is hot. Fruitless? Ruthless.

God is trimming trees today. On guard!”

But we have come so far, and we’re almost there.

We hear a prophet’s echo in Mary’s delivery,

“Emmanuel. That woman’s child will be

God with us.” God. With. Us. Impossibility!

Unimaginable intensity.

So yes. Reach and stretch, as far as you can.

God is coming, and now arrives, alive,

To demonstrate, to teach, to embody, to be

the presence of intense, impossible, unconditional

love.

There is a song in the air, and that song is called love.

We wait for you, long-expected Jesus. We prepare for your arrival with familiar sights and smells and flavors and sounds. Familiar ... and yet new every year. There is a song in the air, both familiar and new, a song that is and was and ever shall be, Amen.

Advent - Week Three

It is closer, and yet still so far away.

Christmas Day sits on horizon’s hill

like a sunrise disguise, not quite yet shining

into the valley, but you can see that it will.

And still, Zechariah sings about light

dawning upon the darkest corners of life,

chasing shadows of death, guiding our way

into the day, into the goodness, into the birth

of Jesus.

It is closer (but still far away), and prophets promise

Eyes opened, ears unplugged, voices lifted,

Impossible things possible, even probable,

Light increasing and definitely unstoppable

now as the darkness retreats in its unilluminated shame.

Yes, the light is coming. Yes, look and see.

The light reflected, unexpected

In our words and deeds, in you and me.

Yes, the sun is rising, the Light of all lights

Banishes darkness forever, good news of the greatest

joy.

There is a song in the air, and that song is called joy.

We wait for you, long-expected Jesus. We prepare for your arrival with familiar sights and smells and flavors and sounds. Familiar ... and yet new every year. There is a song in the air, both familiar and new, a song that is and was and ever shall be, Amen.

Advent - Week Two

The season is in full swing, all lights and sounds,

all scenery and songs. “The greenery belongs

in the hall, not on the railing. This goes here

and that over there, not where it is. That’s wrong.”

But my soul longs ... my soul ... it longs

to magnify with Mary, to glorify the Lord.

I want to rejoice in the Mighty One, Holy One

to find a place for me. Not the tree, not the bells,

not the L.E.D. molded plastic manger. … Me.

The season is in full swing, and prophets call,

“Leopard and lamb, coyote and cow. And a child over all.”

And the words illuminate but dimly, dimly

The impending night, gathering still.

Do we even hear? Do we truly see?

Or are eyes and ears jaded by faded familiar

that has become background, unworthy of acclaim?

Into the noise, the silent savior comes, once more

expanding understanding and bringing abiding

peace.

There is a song in the air, and that song is called peace.

We wait for you, long-expected Jesus. We prepare for your arrival with familiar sights and smells and flavors and sounds. Familiar ... and yet new every year. There is a song in the air, both familiar and new, a song that is and was and ever shall be, Amen.

Advent - Week One

Advent begins, and it feels familiar.

Comfortable. Traditions renewed.

Familiar garland. Familiar lights.

Familiar songs. Familiar food.

Every year, a sacred season

begins as autumn fades

and winter peeks around into

shortening, darkening days.

Advent begins, and prophets call, “Swords

into shovels! Spears into billhooks!”

And the words flicker into our ears

like a single candle lit against

the oncoming darkness of our hopes and fears.

Every year, the expectations of our

deepest and truest selves

are met, exceeded, extended, transcended

beyond earthly standards and big box shelves

into the music of God,

made known in humility, fragility, infinite capability

and hope.

There is a song in the air, and that song is called hope.

We wait for you, long-expected Jesus. We prepare for your arrival with familiar sights and smells and flavors and sounds. Familiar ... and yet new every year. There is a song in the air, both familiar and new, a song that is and was and ever shall be, Amen.

Sing in the Face of Fear - Advent 3

This is what I wrote for the lighting of the Advent candles yesterday morning. I wrote it weeks ago, so I had kind of forgotten it. When I heard it read aloud at the first service, I thought, "Hey that's pretty good" before remembering that I had, in fact, written it. Awkward.

So anyway, I'd like to share it with you, because I love the idea of singing aloud as a way to overcome fear. I hope you like it.

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Lighting of the Advent Candles - Campbell UMC, 2015

WEEK 3 - December 13

READER 1: Sing aloud, O daughter Zion; shout, O Israel!

Rejoice and exult with all your heart, O daughter Jerusalem!

The Lord has taken away the judgments against you, he has turned away your enemies.

The king of Israel, the Lord, is in your midst; you shall fear disaster no more.

On that day it shall be said to Jerusalem:

Do not fear, O Zion; do not let your hands grow weak.

The Lord, your God, is in your midst.

Zephaniah 1, 14 through 16.

(Pause)

READER 2: We are one week nearer to the arrival of Jesus! This week, Zephaniah encourages us to look fear in the face … and sing!

It is a liberating idea, isn’t it, to overcome fear with singing? So often we are told to be afraid, to be cautious, to withdraw and hide from the dangers of the world. In stark contrast, Zephaniah tells us to sing for joy!

Joy does not come from wealth or an abundance of possessions. Our neighbors in the La Laguna community in rural Nicaragua have next to nothing in terms of material possessions, and yet there is great joy among them. No, the source of true joy is not of this world; the source of true joy is God.

Today we light a candle called “Joy,” a song sung in defiance of fear, God’s strong presence in our midst.

(READER 1 lights “Hope,” “Peace,” and “Joy” candles.)

READER 1 (or 3): Joy’s light is added to “hope” and “peace,” illuminating the darkness of fear, and injustice, and poverty, and war. And no darkness will ever overcome it.

Let us pray. (Reprise intro begins)

O come, o come, Emmanuel. You open heaven wide, you liberate the captives, you conquer death itself. You scatter the gloomy clouds of night with the light of your justice.

O God, bind all people together in the gentle cords of grace. May we sing songs of joy in the face of all that we are told to fear.

Show us how to be your gift during this holy season. In the name of Jesus and by the power of the Holy Spirit, Amen.

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My prayer for you is that you have the confidence to sing in defiance of fear. Joy is the assurance of God's strong presence, equipping, energizing, and empowering us to overcome whatever struggles life throws our way.

"I sing because I'm happy, I sing because I'm free!"

Christ the Lord is coming, that the world might joyful be.

"Be the Gift"

This Advent season, our congregational theme is “Be the Gift.” We’ll be thinking about how can we “be the gift” that God is giving to the world.

(I realize of course the possible negative connotations here. It is often said of someone, “Well he thinks is just God’s gift to humanity!” And when that is said, it is NOT meant as a compliment! But that’s not how we are using the idea; there is another way to think of it.)

I saw a TV commercial last week that featured a guy shopping for Christmas gifts. He bought a bunch of electronic gadgets and walked out of the advertised store full of confidence. The tagline of the commercial was, “They’ll not only love it - they’ll love you.”

My jaw dropped. My stomach rolled. I may even have uttered an incoherent grunt of disgust.

The implication is not even subtle. “You have to buy love.” No! No! No! A million times NO! Christmas gifts are not given in order to earn someone’s love. Christmas gifts are given to honor the greatest gift ever in the history of gifts - the gift of Jesus himself.

Jesus embodied God’s love; that’s what the incarnation was all about. He was and is the gift that God was giving to the world. The church is the body of Christ in the world today; the church ought to be a continual embodiment of God’s love, the ongoing incarnation of God’s gift.

Simply put, we should be the gift. You - me - us together. What if we thought less about buying someone a gift and more about being a gift in their life? Be a gift of presence, a gift of hope, a gift of joy, a gift of love. Be a gift of encouragement, a gift of friendship. Be a gift of grace to someone.

That’s what we’re about this Advent season, being gifts for one another and for the world. May God bless our holy season, a season not of greed but of giving, a season not of presents but of presence, a season not of crass consumerism but of sacred celebration.

Happy Advent, everyone!

Love, No Matter What

This season at Campbell UMC, we have considered how our lives are illuminated by hope, peace, and joy. These ideas have taken us through three weeks of Advent, in preparation for the coming of Christ.

And this week we light the fourth candle - the candle of love, Of all the lights that shine in this holy season, the light of love shines brightest of all.

You know you love someone if the room seems brighter when they walk in.

Love connects people together. Love connects people to God. The connections of love are like wires closing a circuit, the current flows and the energy surges and (if there’s a light bulb attached) there is LIGHT!

In a similar way, when a relationship is one of love, there is energy flowing. In a loving relationship, there is light. The light of a loving relationship will illuminate the darkest places of life; the darkness of conflict and disagreement can never overcome the light of love.

Helen Keller said, “Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light.”

Even if the future is uncertain, even if what lies ahead is intimidating or the path is going to be difficult to follow, having someone you love by your side always makes it better. And on the flipside, even if life is certain and comfortable and the future is clear ahead of you, if you have to go it alone it just isn’t as good.

Love illuminates our lives by connecting us together with a light that refuses to be overcome.

Therein lies my hope for the future of the church. I believe with all my heart that things will be okay if we can just manage to remember that we love one another.

And even more, if we truly practice scriptural hospitality, we are reminded that we love not just those who already love us. We are to show the same love to "strangers" (as in Hebrews 13:2 - Gk. philoxenia: love of strangers, also in Romans 12:13) as we do to family and friends.

The light has come into the world. The light is Christ. The light is love. And although we seem to forget it and tend to act like we don't believe it, no darkness of any kind will ever be able to overcome it.

Love - No matter what.

Peace

The second Sunday of Advent asks us to think about peace.

Really? Your timing just couldn’t be worse, Second Sunday of Advent. It’s a pretty hard topic to think about just now. Violence seems to be the norm, hatred makes headlines, conflict rules the day.

Peace is not trending.

But honestly, has it ever been? Have you ever arrived, Second Sunday, and found the world to be truly at peace? Has there ever been an era in which peace was the rule of the day? We are fond of lamenting how bad the world is “these days,” and how idyllic the “good old days” were. But is that truthful?

Maybe we just remember things through the lens of sentiment, and maybe that makes it seem better than it really was. Is that how it is, Second Sunday of Advent? Are our memories selective that way?

You come around every year, Second Sunday; why are we so surprised? Shocked, even? Peace is kind of a big deal in the Bible, after all. Even Jesus himself is identified with it, him being the Prince of Peace and all. So why is it that all we can do is cluck our tongues and shake our heads?

Why can we not seem to figure out how to actually live lives of peace? We are supposed to “strive to be found by Christ at peace,” for God’s sake (2 Peter 3:14). So who’s striving?

Okay, Second Sunday of Advent … we hear you! We’ll give it a try. Who knows but if we do, that this “peace” thing might not just be the next big thing?

Nativity Scenes

Nativity scenes are those sets of figurines that depict the birth of Jesus. They come in all shapes and sizes, for indoors and out, to play with and to look at, from simple to ornate and everything in between.

My family has a small collection of nativity scenes that we unpack every year at this time. As we unpack them and set them out, we recall where and when we got each one. It seems as though each scene comes with its own story.

This year at Campbell UMC, our Advent theme is going to be “Nativity Scenes.” But we’re not just talking about the decorative figures. The “scenes” that we’ll focus on are the shared experiences, memories, and images of the season.

Nativity scenes are sometimes joyful memories. Sometimes our nativity scenes are filled with grief. Many of our nativity scenes include visits with family and friends. At times our nativity scenes are lonely and isolated.

Each of us has a collection of these “scenes” that we tend to unpack each year about this time. As we prepare our lives for the birth of Jesus, we recall holidays past, and all of the sorrow, joy, loneliness, and love that each memory brings. There is no doubt, each scene comes with its own story.

At the same time, we will create new nativity scenes this year. The experiences we share this year will become a part of the story over time. What new scenes will you add? What will this year’s memories be?

There is power in shared experience. Together our nativity scenes make up a marvelous story. It is a love story; God’s love story told to the whole world. And each “Nativity Scene” creates an important part of the storyline. My hope for this season is that the power of our shared experience will draw us closer to God, closer to one another, and into a deeper relationship with Christ in the presence of the Holy Spirit.

A Safe Season?

Have we made Christmas too safe?

That’s what I’ve been wondering this season. Has Christmas become a predictable mish-mash of traditions that have been separated from the earth-shattering power of the incarnation?I’m not bashing Christmas traditions, you realize. When it comes to Christmas traditions, I’m all in favor.

My family dives into Christmas traditions – the tree, the lights, the nativity sets, special dinner, family time – the works! So I’m not belittling these things at all.

I’m just wondering, is it all too safe? And what do I even mean by safe?

Well, to tell you the truth, I’m not entirely sure. I’m just reading the words of the prophets and noticing some fairly cataclysmic language. The heavens being torn open, the mountains quaking, the nations trembling, valleys being lifted up, mountains being made low, and that kind of stuff.

Earth shattering. Powerful. Transformative.

If by “safe” we mean innocuous, secure from risk, stable … well, the only thing “stable” about Christmas was the place Jesus was born.

The birth of Jesus changed everything.

God. Became. Human.

The thought should stagger you. The first inkling of understanding as to what the incarnation truly means should feel like a bolt of lightning electrifying your soul. The sheer power of Christmas scatters the proud, brings down the powerful, lifts up the lowly, fills the hungry, and empties the rich, as Mary sings in Luke 1.

Have we somehow hidden that behind a big inflatable lawn Santa that plays “You Better Watch Out” over and over again? Are we so blinded by the glare of strings of computer programmed LED strings that we can’t see the light of the world any more? Is the Trans-Siberian Orchestra drowning out the sound of the voice of Zion up on the mountain announcing the presence of God?

This Christmas, don’t be safe. Take a risk. Do something you’ve never done before, for the sake of Jesus. Honor the birth of Christ by continuing the mission he inaugurated.

This Christmas, change the world.

(This is my offering for this year's Advent Devotion book published by Campbell UMC. The devotion book is online again this year, and can be accessed and subscribed to by clicking right here.)

I Have a Superpower!

I would like to take a moment to apologize to everyone.

Isn’t it strange how we say “I would like to take a moment to…” do something as the lead-in to doing it, instead of just doing it? I mean, why not just go ahead and do it, then?

Okay. Everyone, I am so, so sorry.

Let me clarify that a little bit. I don’t mean everyone that I personally have offended or angered or injured; that list would be extensive in and of itself. No, I mean everyone. Every single person in the world. I am sorry, everyone.

Everyone who is angry or bitter or frustrated, I want you to know how sorry I am. Whatever it was that caused you to be so, I’m sure felt really rotten at the time, but ask yourself, is it really worth it? Look, I don’t know if it will do any good, but for what it’s worth, I am sorry. On behalf of whoever it was that ticked you off, allow me to apologize.

I have encountered a number of people lately seem to be just a nudge away from an outburst. Like just a little inconvenience or tiny insignificance gets elevated and escalated way out of proportion and elicits a stringent rant or some hurtful words or a generally grumpy demeanor. And after than, good things rarely happen; in fact it usually gets worse from there.

So I have decided to take all of the blame for everything. All of that negative energy you currently have directed at the government or your boss or your colleagues or your pastor or someone in your family or whoever it might be, send it my way. I apologize for everything rotten that is happening to you. Really. I’m sorry.

See, I’ve got this mysterious, mind-boggling superpower. It gives me the ability to take all that is bad and absorb it into pure goodness. It empowers me to take a hit from someone's frustration and flip it over so that it comes back as contenment. It allows me to do battle against bitterness and emerge into abiding joy. It equips me to engage rampant self-righteous indignation and transmogrify it into sweet shalom.

The superpower is called Advent. Who would dare deny the awesome power of Advent? Advent allows me, an otherwise normal, unassuming, we might even say mild-mannered person, to accomplish supernatural feats of hope and peace and joy and love. No, I cannot leap tall buildings in a single bound, but I can smile at a stranger while I help her lug her stroller off the elevator as she struggles with her baby and the bags in her arms. And stuff like that.

And here’s the great news: this superpower is available to everyone! That’s right, you heard me. Every single person in the world can be a superhero with the power of Advent at your disposal. There are a number of ways to gain access to this power – going to worship at your church during this season, attending a kids’ Christmas program, telling the Christmas story to a group of preschoolers, volunteering at a local food pantry, giving generously to help someone in need, sitting silently in a room illuminated only by your Christmas tree lights … there are a whole bunch of ways to acquire the power of Advent.

And so, family, friends, colleagues, Christian brothers and sisters, random people reading this post for some reason, I say to you all: access the superpower of Advent! It truly is an amazing thing to behold. And if we do, before we know it, it might just change the world.

Signifying Something

This week my newsletter article said:

A large percentage of our lives are directed by signs. Street signs tell us where we are, traffic signs tell us how to act toward other drivers, and businesses use signs to lure us toward purchasing their products. Gigantic billboards alert us to nearby attractions we might want to check out and once we arrive, the “Open” sign on the door will tell us if the place is available to us or not.
A sign is a signal for something else, and as such a sign is always referring away from itself. The point of any sign is not the sign, but rather the point is to indicate the presence of another. When a baseball catcher gives the sign, the play is not over but rather has just begun; the sign is given to indicate the type of pitch that will follow.
Isaiah 7 indicates that the Lord will give a sign: a young woman who is with child, a son who will be named Immanuel. Looking back at this prophecy through what we know of history, it is simple to associate this image with the birth of Jesus. In fact, Matthew quotes this prophecy in his birth narrative.
God’s presence is “Giving the Sign” this week. And it is a much holier, much more meaningful sign than any of the myriad of signs that direct us through our days. And it is much, much more important to be guided by THIS sign, God’s sign, the young woman about to have a baby, than by any other sign we might run across.
It’s all about the presence – Giving the Sign.

...and my further speculation is:

Yes, it IS easy to recognize that the sign Isaiah mentions is a sign of the incarnation. When we already know the next chapter of the story, it is easy to see how the current chapter of the story leads in that direction.

But what if we didn't know it? What does the sign mean for people who don't already know the next chapter, or is it only valuable for people who already believe in Jesus? Or to think about it a bit differently, what was the sign for people who lived before the birth of Jesus?

This is a specific prophecy about a specific historical situation. The story is paralelled in 2 Kings 16, and has to do with the reign of Ahaz in Judah. Ahaz was not a good king, and when he perceived a threat from two rival nations, he sought an alliance with Assyria. Now, what he probably shoulda done was trust in the Lord, and Isaiah's job was to tell him that.

"Ask for a sign," said the Lord to Ahaz. "I'll show you whom to trust."

"I'd rather not," responded Ahaz, trying to sound pious. "I don't want to put you to the test." But what he was probably thinking was, "O crud! If I ask for a sign, then God will show me one, since that's just the kind of thing God would do. Then, I'd be pretty much screwed."

"You are a moron," said Isaiah. "So God's going to give you a sign anyway. And this is it:

"A young woman is going to have a baby with a deeply symbolic name: God-is-with-us. And before that baby is old enough to know right and wrong (that is to say, pretty soon) the delicacy of curds and honey will be available to him, because the foreign armies in the land will no longer be a threat.

"Oh and by the way, you want Assyria? God will give you Assyria, all right! Only its not going to be an alliance you get; it will be a conquering army that will turn your beautiful fields into thorn bushes, and only a small remnant will remain alive."

The sign of the young woman about to have a baby, then, meant something to the people in that time, and should not be voided of that meaning completely. Clearly it is a Messianic prediction, but the fact that the sign points to the birth of Jesus does not mean it cannot point to other things, too.

Like...
- A reminder of God's presence even in times of trouble.
- The assurance that trouble is fleeting, but God's presence lasts beyond it.
- An admonition to trust in God, and God alone, for help in times of trouble.

I do wonder how often God sends us signs that we fail to see. But now I wonder how often God sends us a sign that we do in fact recognize, but we misinterpret because we think we already know what it means. And maybe the sign really does mean that, but does that fact necessarily mean the sign might not signify something else, as well?

My prayer this season is to remain open to all of the possibilities contained in each and every sign that God is sending, and to avoid limiting what God is trying to say by trying to squeeze it through my own narrow perspective.

What is the opposite of Joy?

What is the opposite of joy?

Misery? Sorrow? Grief?

Leslie Weatherhead said, “The opposite of joy is not sorrow. It is unbelief.”

I read somewhere that the opposite of joy is fear.

My cousin Matt said that the active form of joy’s opposite would be hate.

Isaiah 35:1 =
The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad, the desert shall rejoice and blossom;like the crocus it shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice with joy and singing.

So, is the opposite of joy “wilderness”?

When I posted the question on Facebook Wednesday afternoon, there were 11 unique responses in 35 minutes. And the words people offered were very different – misery, sorrow, summer, despair, dissolution, sadness, loneliness, anguish, apathy, emptiness, and complacency. (I think the “summer” response was supposed to be a joke.) I also liked Ed’s response, “A week without church.”

It is fascinating that so many different words were offered by different people. That says to me that “joy” is a deep and multi-faceted idea, open to a wide range of interpretations. See, I’m thinking about the opposite of joy as a means to understanding joy itself. For example, if the opposite of joy is “sorrow” or “sadness,” are we saying joy the same as happiness? Surely not, if what we mean is the superficial feeling of momentary pleasure that we call happiness sometimes, but maybe so if we’re talking true happiness, which then begs the question, what makes happiness “true?”

“Apathy” and “complacency” are kind of in the same category; a neutral and uninspired approach to life. “Emptiness,” “loneliness,” and “dissolution” are similar. “Misery” and “despair” each have a hopeless, lethargic feeling, whereas “anguish” seems to be more active.

If none of the words my Facebook friends suggested are precisely the opposite of joy, it can certainly be said the joy does not include any of these things. None of these are ingredients in the recipe for joy. But are their opposites?

Apathy’s opposite is ardor or fervor, or maybe passion.
Complacency has a lot of meanings, but would awareness maybe be its opposite?
Emptiness, loneliness, and dissolution are opposed by fullness, relationship, and completeness.
For misery and despair we might go with delight or maybe hopefulness.
And anguish’s opposite is something like comfort or solace.

Mashing all of that together, joy might be an ardent awareness of the fullness of life that instills solace and hopeful delight.

So, how does that work for you?

At Halftime of Advent

Entering the third week of Advent, I find that I have been given an opportunity to pause and reflect on where we’ve been and what we’ve done. Never mind that the opportunity has been given to me by the cold I caught, as my body told me loud and clear, “Slow down a bit, I can’t quite keep up with you.”

Regardless of the source of this gift, I am taking the morning to just think about the phenomenal congregation called Campbell United Methodist Church, and the amazing things that I have witnessed in the last couple of weeks. Powerful worship; innovative and interactive seasonal devotions; generous alternative gift giving; beautiful and creative decorating; dedicated and diligent children, youth, and their amazing adult volunteers; hard-working singers and instrumentalists making extra preparations; dozens of disciples engaged in special mission and service in Springfield and beyond. There have been baptisms to celebrate, people becoming members of the congregation, generous gifts given to Imagine and our United Methodist apportionment, and so much quiet, behind-the-scenes servanthood that I couldn’t even begin to attempt to list it all.

All of that is layered on top of the vital, ongoing ministries of the congregation that comprise the three stairways in the pattern of discipleship – Live, Grow, and Share. In the midst of the Advent celebration, we continue in worship, faith development, fellowship, mission and service, generosity, and hospitality, walking the six practices of discipleship in their ever deepening pattern.

And all of that is just the first half of the season; the second two weeks of Advent and the twelve days that make up the season of Christmas are still ahead! I encourage you to pause and reflect every now and then, and please do not wait until you have caught a cold to do so! And take a look at the calendar of the congregation for the next few weeks, to participate in the wonder and mystery of this holy season, celebrating the active presence of God at work all around us.

Hope, Seen and Heard

The season of Advent has begun, and I couldn’t be any more excited! This is the fortieth Advent of my life, and yet I am discovering new things this year, just like every year. Such is the mystery of this season; God reveals new understandings and insights, no matter how many previous Advents you have experienced.

On my fortieth Advent, I am learning more about the effects of God’s presence on my attitude. Or maybe I should say, I am learning that when I am able to recognize God’s presence around me, it really affects my outlook, demeanor, and state of mind. I find myself smiling more for no apparent reason. I hear a Christmas song that in previous years I may have thought to be a cheesy ball of schlock, and I actually begin to tear up a little bit. You know, stuff like that.

And so I ask, is it because it is Advent and God is at work on me in some deep and powerful way, or is it because I am forty and getting sentimental in my middle age?

Who knows? As the prophet Isaiah says, “He shall not judge by what his eyes see, or decide by what his ears hear.” Because let me tell you, if we did that we’d be in pretty big trouble, wouldn’t we? Our eyes see some pretty discouraging things; our ears hear some ugly stuff. If that were the limit of our perception, there would be no hope whatsoever.

But God has given us other senses with which to perceive the Divine Presence, spiritual senses that are tuned in to God at levels both underneath and above our consciousness. And that gives me hope.

Too often we limit our perception to what our eyes see or what our ears hear. Actually, we frequently limit it more than that. A lot of the time, we limit our perception to what someone else tells us it is. I mean, it IS easier that way, after all. A lot less thinking for myself.

But the perception of the one described in Isaiah 11 is informed by something deeper than mere physical senses - namely, God's righteousness (Heb. tsedeq). Perception shaped by God's righteousness leads to a special consideration for the poor and the meek, and a radical transformation of the world such that predator and prey dwell together in peace. Simply put, you just don't see things the same way anymore.

This Advent, may we all see and hear with the spiritual senses that God awakens within us. May righteousness be our filter as we wait for the coming of Emmanuel.

Peace Out

As the season of Advent begins, I've been pondering some things.

Is it possible to “fight for peace”?

Can an armed force ever truly be called “peacekeepers”? Or we might ask, is what they are keeping really peace?

It is said so often that it has almost become cliché to say that God’s peace is more than just the absence of conflict. Shalom is life without fear, a way of being that is comprised of justice and mercy, grounded in the everlasting love of God, cultivated in the presence of the Holy Spirit, and manifest in the person of Christ Jesus of Nazareth.

In our human fallibility, we tend to equate peace with everyone pretending to get along with one another. But that’s not peace. There’s more.

You know those family gatherings where there you avoid broaching certain topics because you know the ensuing conversation is not going to be pretty? And then you think that, if you can just avoid the given topic for a couple hours, it will all be over and you can go home? Yeah, you know what I’m talking about … well, that’s not peace. Even if everyone is pretending to be cheery, you know you’re all thinking about the thing you’re not going to be talking about, wondering who will slip up and say something first, and then how the lovely dessert that Aunt Ethel worked so hard on will just be ruined, thanks a lot you.

No, pretending to be cheery for Aunt Ethel’s sake is not peace. Peace is the way that you handle the issue, not the resolution. Peace requires you to address the conflict with love, understanding, respect, and graciousness. You might resolve it, you might not. That’s not the point. The point is in the way you approach it.

Expand that example outward to talk about churches, or communities, or nations. What if we reconceived everything, to think of peace as the way we approach any given situation, rather than the resolution of the situation one way or the other. How would that be? What would that look like?

Beating swords into plowshares would be more than just pretty poetry, it would be a weekend activity. There would be “Spears Into Pruning Hooks” courses offered at High Schools all over the world. War would be something that we learn about in history books, not something we learn how to do in combat training.

Peace within one’s self – peace in our personal relationships – peace in our communities – peace in our world. God’s peace is a way of living that ought to impact every level of life. If we are serious about the presence of God being everywhere, all the time, we need to reflect that in our actions, everywhere and all the time.


(btw, cool Advent Stuff here - Its All About the Presence)

The Day Before the Day Before

For me, the day before Christmas Eve feels more like an “eve” than the 24th does. The 24th of December is a work day, but the 23rd always has a sense of preparation and anticipation.

We will be having three worship services tomorrow, at 4:00, 7:00, and 11:00. Each one is a little bit different; different special music, different anticipated audience, different liturgical pieces. So I have one sermon, but in three different forms, one for each service.

However, today I have made a point to not do too much. The staff went to lunch for a birthday, I did some calendar, answered some mail, read a bit, practiced my sermon(s) for tomorrow. But really not too much. I’m only up to 3,570 steps on my pedometer, for goodness sake!

It feels kind of weird, to tell you the truth. I have to force myself to operate in this mode, if that makes sense. I talk so much about people needing to slow down, take time for themselves, and have relaxing days, but it is hard to take that advice myself. I need to remember that today has been a gift.

Today is “the day before;” it is an oddly placed pseudo-Saturday in the middle of the week. Only the “Sunday” that follows is not really Sunday, it is Christmas Eve – that holiest of holy celebrations. All day tomorrow I will be an excited, jumbled up ball of nervous energy as I wait for worship. Most Sundays, my nervous energy is expended from 7:00 a.m. to 12:00 noon, then it’s over and I come crashing down. But tomorrow I’ll have to find a way to pace it, to channel it, to keep it contained until the evening.

It is a wonderful season, and nearing its fulfillment. The wait is almost over! The miracle is about to begin.