No Where to Go!?

I have been enjoying my time spent with each of the clergy in the Columbia District, doing whatever they want to do. We have been to the zoo, the State Museum, The Columbia Museum of Art, visiting the homeless, shut-ins, hospitals, taking communion to people, sitting in on church visioning, learning to make pottery, etc. It has been good.

On one trek, a pastor took me to Congaree Creek Park where clay has been dug for several hundred years. One of the more interesting things I have seen in all of the activities over the past several months of being on these outings with pastors was something I saw in the middle of the remants of the old clay mining operation. Sticking out from a huge tree were two railroad track irons about ten feet up. They were evidently used as part of a means to get the clay out of the nearby pit.

All kinds of metaphors have been coming to mind. First, they reminded me of my trip to Coventry Cathedral in England which was bombed by the Nazis in WWII. As the rubble of the cathedral was cleared in the chancel there were two burned beams that had fallen and made a cross. It is still viewed today as a sign of Christ's sacrifice and the need for human forgiveness. Second, I thought of our denomination, especially as Constitutional Amendments will be voted on at this year's Annual Conference. We're at a crossroads. I don't oppose the amendments on the worldwide nature of the UMC because of liberal or conservative reasons. I oppose them because they would switch us from Connectionalism to a pseudo-Presbyterian/Anglican regional understanding of who we are as a church. Regions would be able to adapt how we live out the Gospel with such division that we would be living a false advertising, "The UNITED Methodist Church." We wouldn't be united if these pass.

There are other crossroads that we face in life with the economy, jobs, day-to-day decisions. Those rail lines stuck up in a tree are useless. I don't want our church to end up a dead sect, useless to God. We're never exactly where we're meant to be on this side of heaven, but, pray God, we've got to do more than be picked up by history as an appendage to a tree. We have to stay alive, grow in Christ, live the Great Commandment and the Great Commission, or... look at the picture.

Good Friday to Easter!

Death bothers me. Some deaths take an even greater toll than usual, as if there’s anything usual about death. I guess that I have seen somewhere around 600 people take their last breath, including my mother and father. Some people die easier than others. Thank God for Hospice. Nevertheless, a few deaths have bewildered me and turned time on its head. Some I saw die and with others I was there for the aftermath.

I think of Brittany Anne Gudger who I watched die in her mother’s arms at eighteen months. Dale Owen comes to mind who died in junior high when his four-wheeler hit a guy-wire connected to a telephone pole. He was one of the best left-handed pitchers I ever saw. His mom buried him with his pager so that she could call his number every day just to soothe her sorrow. I think about Wayne Threatte, a friend and former parishioner, who died too young as a 45 year-old. His last words to me were, “I’m going to be alright.” Well, I wasn’t even if Wayne was. Holly Alford’s death was a shock, too. She was 12 when she drowned in a freak accident when she and her mom hydroplaned into a ditch during a downpour. She was an only child. The list could go on and on. Death and grief care are perhaps a pastor’s heaviest burden. Parishioners rightfully become your family.

My only solace is the same solace that I offer to others: JESUS. Easter’s proclamation is the most profound news of all time. Jesus lives! Because He lives so do Brittany Anne, Dale, Wayne, Holly, Chuck, Mr. Godwin, Bill, Lois, Jean, Bob, Etah, and all the rest who have died in Christ. There’s not one soul in Christ left in the grave. How do I know this? Here’s the answer via a story that some claim is true: A man was standing in line at the bank when there was a commotion at the counter. A woman was distressed, exclaiming, “Where will I put my money?! I have all my money and my mortgage here!! What will happen to my mortgage?!” It turned out that she had misunderstood a small sign on the counter. The sign read, WE WILL BE CLOSED FOR GOOD FRIDAY. I guess Easter was not uppermost in her thoughts, because she thought that the bank was going to close “for good” that coming Friday.

Death’s depository of despair was closed on Good Friday. That day Christ took upon Himself all of the pain, sadness, heartache, and sin of the entire world. He endured crucifixion to conquer death. Death came into the world as a result of sin, “The wages of sin is death.” Jesus closed death’s bank on Good Friday because He had never sinned. Since He didn’t sin, death couldn’t hold Him. His resurrection on Easter is proof of His triumph and it is the proof that we can triumph, too. When we ask for forgiveness and believe that Jesus died for our sins that means we believe that just as much as He died for our sins He also rose for lives. No wonder worship for the first believers quickly changed from Saturday/Sabbath to Sunday. Since Jesus rose on a Sunday, the first day of the week would forever be a reenactment of Easter. This Sunday is the biggest reenactment of the year. If your faith needs a boost, your grief some solace, and your sins a white flag, then Easter is your day!

Determination

My mother-in-law is doing so much better. Thank you for all your prayers. Please keep praying for her, and, especially, Cindy. Cindy gets up at 5 am, has her devotion and breakfast, heads to the Agape Transition Care facility on her way to work, and stops back by on her way home. She usually stays until after Mrs. Godwin eats dinner. I usually go every day, too, and often meet her there in the evening. It's been interesting getting mail changed to our house, figuring out her taxes, meds, and going to Walmart, etc. to get the essentials for her to survive therapy sessions. Thank God she is responding. A week ago we didn't know if she would live. Determination is so huge in our will to live.

My dad was 48 when he was given 6 weeks to 6 months to live because his prostate cancer had metasticized to his bones. He lived for 38 more years and even outlived his doctor! Why? God's grace and his determination were key. When he lost both legs to diabetes at age 80 he showed us all how determined he was when he walked and drove on his artificial legs. He was an amazing example of determination. When he finally died we sang "Lord of the Dance" per his request and we could all visualize him with his new legs dancing a jig. I cried for sheer joy.

I sometimes wonder if I have that kind of determination. The struggles are great and I often want to crawl into a hole and turn out the lights, but God's grace empowers me and you to get up and keep at it. May it ever be, please, Lord, please!

Easter Freedom

Dietrich Bonhoeffer has been one of my heroes in the faith for years. His book Life Together was one of the most formative spiritual sources in my early Christian life. In it he describes Christian community with unbridled passion. He knew first-hand the value of support and fellowship. He was a member of the underground “Confessing” church in Germany during Hitler’s tyranny. He taught in an illegal seminary training pastors to withstand the onslaught of fascism. Sixty-four years ago this month on April 9, 1945 he was led away by Gestapo guards to be hung. His last words to a fellow prisoner were, “This is the end – for me the beginning of life.” What an Easter message. Bonhoeffer was only 39 years old when he was executed.

Pope John Paul II barely escaped a similar fate when he was a seminarian in Poland. The Nazis did finally arrest the future Pope and he endured a labor camp until he was liberated. Liberation theology espouses a Christus Victor image of Christ’s atonement and resurrection. This image calls us to see Jesus as Liberator, victorious over sin and death. Christians have embraced the notion of Christ as Victor throughout the centuries, especially those who have been oppressed.

No offense, that means all of us. Certainly there are millions of Christians who have had and are enduring struggles the likes of which are beyond my comprehension, but the truth that we all know is that all of us are in a great battle between the forces of good and evil. We may not bear on our bodies the marks and scars of persecution, but we all have concerns over which we need Jesus to triumph.

It would do us well to remember Bonhoeffer and John Paul II as people who threw off the yoke of oppression and died well and entered the freedom of heaven. Bonhoeffer said it for the Pope and for us when we face death’s barrage, “This is the end – for me the beginning of life.” Christ as Victor reminds me of the end of the Mel Gibson movie, Braveheart. William Wallace, the Scotsman liberator who finally yields his life as a martyr to English oppression, cries out, “FREEDOM!”

However, just as much as I look forward to a heavenly victory, I am reminded, even scolded, by God that God wants liberation to occur in the here and now as much as in the hereafter. The sweet-by-and-by sounds great but if we don’t do something about humanity’s problems that are staring us in the face then we mock the Lord and His prayer: “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”

Bonhoeffer was jailed by the Nazis because he took liberation theology seriously enough to take part in the July 20, 1944 Abwehr plot against Hitler. The one question that informed Bonhoeffer’s ethics was, “Who is Jesus Christ?” How one answers that question was decisive for Bonhoeffer and so it should be for us. When we face the world’s ills and injustices, we have to make a stand in the power of Christ.

We are the hands and feet of Jesus, the mouthpieces and the ears. When Bonhoeffer was addressing the question of Christ’s identity the church in Germany was confronted with Nazism’s deliberate systematic annihilation of Jews, Gypsies, homosexuals, mentally disabled people and nearly everyone else who didn’t fit into Aryan culture. Most Christians in Germany went along with Hitler’s policies because they didn’t ask Bonhoeffer’s question. How can we answer freedom’s call today? Answer the question: “Who is Jesus Christ?” and we will live Easter Freedom.

Instincts Are the Enemy

My mother-in-law's tenacity is phenomenal. Her will to live has brought her back from the brink. She is still clinging to life in spite of a broken back, kidney failure, congestive heart failure, and a hemoglobin level half of what it should be. I don't know about you, but I hope that I would be ready to pack it in, fold up the tent, and go see Jesus. Now, I don't mean that Mrs. Godwin is not ready to go see Jesus. Frankly I think that with all the morphine and every other pain killer they have thrown at her, she is just simply living at her instinctual level rather than at her faith level. She even bit a nurse last night! That isn't Mrs. Godwin.

This reminds me that I often live at my instinctual level rather than relying on faith, and I don't have a broken back for an excuse. I preached from Mark's lectionary text last Sunday, Mark 8:31ff, and used a Staples "Easy" button. Staples may say "That was easy" to our problems, but Jesus, however, says deny yourself and take up a cross. Unfortunately our basest selves are self-centered and cling to life to the end. If Mrs. Godwin were her unencumbered self, she would have already checked out of here. To be sure, however, I hope she bounces back to who she was both physically and spiritually. We don't want her to die, but we don't want her to live like a person she hasn't been. This whole drama makes me stand amazed at a Jesus who had, in his dying moment, the spiritual strength to "commend his spirit" to God and just give up his ghost and die. I might have been kicking and screaming for life. Who wouldn't? Maybe that's my qiestion to answer for Lent. Which is more important: my instinctual desires or my spiritual ones?

Being in Sandwich Generation is Tough

Cindy's mother, Dixie Godwin, has been in three different hospitals in as many days. She has osteoporosis and has broken her back again. The first time was 5 years ago when she was making up her bed. She was in a brace and rehab for months. This time it just happened, no warning, no reason. First she was in Williamsburg County Hospital; then tranferred to Roper Hospital in Charleston; then to East Cooper Hospital in Mt. Pleasant where her orthopedic doctors have privileges.

They still haven't been able to do an MRI to ascertain the best course of action. The problem is multifaceted. Her heart is acting up. Her kidneys are functioning at about 15%. Her hemoglobin is extremely low, and her pain is terrible. Hopefully today or tomorrow they can do the MRI and do what needs to be done. They have told us to be ready for rehab decisions which means moving her away from her doctors to be with us or near us in Columbia.

It's a tough situation. Ever since Mr. Godwin died suddenly with a heart attack it seems that her warranty on her body ran out. He was her Knight in Shining Armour. He had his first 5 bypasses done when he was 52, then 4 more at age 56. He made it to age 64, which for his family was a feat. His Dad died of a heart attack at age 43; mother of heart attack at age 52; brother of heart attack at age 39. Their heart history is terrible.

Mrs. Godwin or "Ganny" as the children have called her is a strong willed independent woman so this has literally altered her life. Please pray for her and us, especially Cindy, as we make decisions in her best interest. Life is a challenge and never easy, but thank God for mercies beyond our comprehension. Being a part of the "Sandwich Generation" isn't easy when you are concerned about your children, even grandchildren, plus your parents. My Mother died in 1993 when I was 37. Daddy died in 2000, 2 months before Cindy's Dad. Life is tough, but God is tougher.

"The Bug or the Windshield"

I think it is a Mary Chapin Carpenter song that says, "Some days you feel like the bug, and some days you feel like the windshield." Today I'm kind of between the two - I feel out of sorts. Plenty of good stuff is going on. There was no snow to keep me from the office this morning, and I'll spend the afternoon with two pastors at the State Museum. Maybe tonight I'll even get to see two of my favorite TV shows, Antiques Roadshow and House. This morning I had to meet with a lawyer about a clergy matter that is generating a lot of prayer. Cindy's Mom had to go into the hopsital with a fractured back yesterday. She has osteoporosis and has been through this before, but she is more frail this time and the pain is awful again. She's in a hospital where her bone doctors aren't allowed to practice and needs to be transferred to where they can care for her, plus the doctor at this hospital who supposedly will work on her isn't even on site. He's snowed in, in Denver - which may be a good thing so we can get her transferred to the right hospital, but the process is convoluted enough to make you dizzy or absolutely trust in God.

All the crap is beyond our power or comprehension. Of course, others go and are going through worse stuff. I went last week to check on a preacher's spouse in the hospital. She died yesterday. I went to the funeral of another clergyperson's widow last week, too. Our son, Caleb, whom I love so much is doing his best to stay above water in his courses at USC, but made his first "F" on a paper in his life. He is struggling for faith and life everyday. He has a mid-term in the same course today. So here I am pondering the W.I.G.I.A.T. bumper sticker again - "Where IS God In All This? I know God doens't cause pain, but does what God does best - help us get through it. That's my weary prayer this morning - "Help Caleb, Dear Jesus; Help Ganny, Dear Jesus; Help Red Williams, Dear Jesus; Help Russell's wife's parents, Dear Jesus; Help our clergy, Dear Jesus; Help our churches, Dear Jesus; Help our country, the world, the poor, the President and everyone who needs help today, Dear Jesus. Amen