Advent and a New Grandbaby

My daughter, Narcie, is GREAT with child. Our granddaughter’s due date is December 9, but we’re all hoping it happens this weekend. The first Sunday of Advent would be wonderfully appropriate. Advent season is one of my favorites, but not because of Christmas. The season is actually less about Jesus’ first coming as it is a preparation for His second advent. Sure, it can be adapted to prepare us for the holidays and the stress of having everything purchased and prepared, but Advent season is really about Judgment Day, not Christmas Day.

I thoroughly enjoyed the movie versions of The Chronicles of Narnia. The books by C.S. Lewis were formative in my faith and especially my understanding of God’s nature. Aslan is one, if not the main character in the series. It doesn’t take much imagination to view this lion as Jesus, the Lion of Judah. He is at once ferocious and frightening, but also one who in great strength lays down his very life. Aslan is no ordinary pussycat. Aslan is to be worshipped and feared. Aslan is loyal, kind, and caring. The word that keeps coming to mind is “strength.” He exudes strength.

I like singing “What a Friend We Have in Jesus,” but it’s also good to know that Jesus-Meek-And-Mild is Jesus-the-Christ. He’s more like William Wallace in Braveheart than Fred Rogers in “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood.” I take great comfort in Jesus who pardons and is lenient, but I also serve a Risen Lord whose strength is a bewildering mixture of humility and power.

I literally don’t want to throw the Baby (Christ Child) out with the bath water, but it’s Advent season that corrects the soft-serve Jesus that captures the rest of the Christian year’s attention. Jesus-the-Judge is a Lord who inspires me to service, not out of fear, but out of a desire to pay homage to the One who is worthy.

Advent makes me think about the end of life and its measure. In The Imitation of Christ, St. Thomas á Kempis wrote: “When we stand before the Judge Eternal, he will not ask what we said but what we did.” Advent-living forces me to think about the eternal consequences of my actions. Christmas-living lets me live in a fantasy world until January when the credit card bills come due.

The ultimate Advent message is to get ready for Judgment Day. Watch your actions, cram for your finals, love God and neighbor, serve the poor, give away earthly treasures to gain heavenly ones, be good stewards of planet earth, and love, love, love! There’s more, of course, but that’s enough for today and tomorrow ad infinitum.

Someone summed it up well when they asked these questions: “When you stand at the Pearly Gates, would you rather be told you believed too much or you believed too little? When you stand at the Pearly Gates, would you rather be told you cared too much or you cared too little? When you stand at the Pearly Gates, would you rather be told you tried too hard or you didn't try hard enough? When you stand at the Pearly Gates, would you rather be told you were too forgiving or you were too judgmental? When you stand at the Pearly Gates, would you rather be told, “Well done, thou hyper-hopeful and risk-taking servant,” or “Well done, thou sober and play-it-safe servant”? Judgment Day is coming, ready or not.

Thanksgiving Thoughts

It’s hard to pray for my favorite team in the upcoming Carolina-Clemson game. Prayer and sporting events haven’t worked out that well for me in the past. In 113 years of football, South Carolina has only won 8 or more games three times. Need I say more? If I pray for the best team to win, that team might not necessarily be mine. So, this year I know exactly what kind of prayer I should pray. It should be a prayer of thanksgiving. The same could be true for Clemson folks, too, and perhaps for fans of about every team. I have a lot to be thankful for as a Carolina fan, and more so as a human being.

There are so many blessings that are better than the vicissitudes of sports. There are many good and great things that overshadow an entire world’s bad news. In the midst of the somber we can either give in to depression or count our blessings. We all know which is better for us, even when it’s tough to do.

What are you thankful for this Thanksgiving? In a village in Denmark, there is a beautifully landscaped cemetery next to the community church. A visitor noted that at least a third of the gravestones there have the inscription, “Tak,” written upon them. That’s Danish for “Thanks.” What a wonderful sentiment whether it’s meant as gratitude towards God for blessing us with life, or as thanks to the people who visit and helped us get through life. Annie Dillard captures this same attitude in her words, “I think that the dying pray at the last not ‘please,’ but ‘thank you,’ as a guest thanks his or her host at the door.” “Thanks!” aims positive energy towards God and others.

Without thanksgiving our prayers are too much about us. We end up treating God like some sort of Cosmic Genie. I know it’s something that I sometimes do. Often in my prayers I spend a lot of time on the things that I need or what I think others need. This part of prayer is called “supplication.” We often spend the majority of our prayer time focusing on what we want God to supply, rather than saying, “Thanks.” I’m reminded of the story about the couple in the aftermath of World War II. They were getting ready to go to the memorial service for the son of friends of theirs. The young man had been killed in the service. His family was dedicating a window in their church to this young man who had lost his life. The window cost $50,000.

“What a beautiful thing to do in memory of their son,” the wife said to her husband. Suddenly, she turned around with an ashen look on her face and said, “What are we going to give?” Her husband replied, “What are you talking about? We don’t need to give anything. Our son came back alive and well.” “That’s exactly what I mean,” his wife responded. “Our friends lost their son, and they’re giving $50,000. We got our son back, and we’re not giving anything???” Even with the sour economy, there’s so much to be thankful for this year. I’m going to count and account for my blessings!

Leap of Faith

Playing things safe is a natural tendency for many people. Taking risks has bitten us more often than not. Armchair quarterbacking has been replaced by the safer second-guessing that comes from the sofa. “It’s too dangerous!” is a good thing to say to precocious children, but, if we’re not careful, we may oversell fear to the point that children, or any of us, aren’t given the permission to risk and fail. Risking failure is at the heart of maturity. Wisdom comes from experience, and the only way to get experience is to try something.

Risk-taking for growth is so counter-intuitive. It goes so much against the grain of our “Be Safe!” society. One of the most frightening experiences to me was extremely counter-intuitive. I was in a seminary course called, “Wilderness Experience for Christian Maturity.” I should have gathered from the title what I might be in for, but naively I went along hoping for a nice camping trip in upstate New York’s Adirondack Mountains.

Everything was fine with the hiking. It was cold, but not unbearable. Even as this was in the middle of May, there was chest deep snow along the trail through some of the passes. After a week of hiking and camaraderie we had our first stretching experience. Each of us was given a piece of plastic for a tarp and then led off into the woods where we would be alone for three days. I didn’t know where I was. No one was allowed any food so that we had to fast. I did have a water bottle that was surreptitiously refilled each night by someone I never saw or heard.

The first half day was okay with my mind focused on settling in, setting up my tarp, unrolling my gear, etc. That night was a little scarier. We weren’t allowed flashlights, and it was literally pitch-black. The stars were amazing, but the rustling sounds of wildlife kept me on guard. During the night some animal came barreling through my open-ended shelter. It was probably one of the many tiny chipmunks that inhabited the area, but, in my mind, it sounded like it was the size of a wild boar, an impossibility in the Adirondacks.

The next day was spent reading the Bible and Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s little book, Life Together. What was constantly on my mind frankly wasn’t what I was reading. I kept thinking about food and wondering what time it was. The group leaders confiscated my watch before leading me out into the wilderness. The food issue also possessed my thoughts. I tore through my backpack hoping that a stray M&M had escaped from my gorp bag before it had been absconded. There was nothing to be found. That day lasted forever, it seemed. I was frustrated in every way: bored, grumpy, and totally out of sorts.

The next day was more of the same until mid-day, at least my best guess of mid-day. Finally I gave up on hunger. I quit thinking about time. Nature and God finally pierced my notions of time and space with the extreme beauty of nature and God’s own quiet closeness. The sounds and the silence of the forest became relaxing and exhilarating friends. My reading of the Bible and Bonhoeffer was suddenly charged with a clarity that I had never known before. When darkness came I slept with a contentment that was rare.

Three days of solitude and fasting ended the next morning as I was led back to the group gathering area. All of us were treated to lentil soup and hot tang to reaccustom our stomachs to food. Everyone seemed cleansed, purified, and peaceful. It was great and it was needed. The risk was worth its reward, and it was good preparation for what came next, rappelling down Mt. Jo.

Sunrise or Sunset?!

I'm glad the presidential election is over and the campaign signs can come down. I'm proud of our country's voter turn-out. This election galvanized many people and has produced a history-changing result. I pray that President-elect Obama will choose advisors wisely and that God will use him to help the US and the world to be a better place. This election for some seems like the demise or sunset of their views and values. For others, the sun has finally come up and it is the dawn of new day.

Regardless of how you voted, it is now time for us to come together and tackle the unfinished business of helping God fulfill the prayer that we pray so often, "Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven." Each of us has a part to play. If we do enter a severe recession or another Great Depression, it is time for us to become the next "Builder" generation or what Tom Brokaw called, "The Greatest Generation." Sociologists and historians will tell you that the melieu of those tough years in the 1930's and 40's generated an unprecedented sense of dedication. The results can be measured in church attendance, civil rights legislation, scientific discoveries, and much more.

I hope we can rise to the occasion. I think the UMC has the best framework of grace imaginable, so, rather than seeming like a mainline dinosaur, we can be poised to help people through these trying times. We must make the Gospel relevant and provide a haven, a sanctuary, and a outlet for people's anxiety and altruism. Our best years are ahead of us not behind us, if we do our part.

A Scripture passage sums up what I'm trying to say: Ephesians 4:15-16. It has been on my mind as I have been conducting charge conferences and seeing our connectionalism at work, "Speaking the truth in love we will in all things grow up into him who is the head, that is Christ. From him, the whole body joined and held together by every supporting ligament grows and builds itself up in love as each part does its work."

In and through the love of Christ we can offer support to a hurting world as each of us does our part. Our distinctive connectionalism can be summed up with a T-shirt slogan, "Together We Can Do More!" It's sunrise not sunset for the US or the UMC!