Do You Hear What I Hear?

Today, we are in the second of our Advent series about preparing for Christmas and the different ways God utilizes our senses as opportunities for grace.  Last week we explored the idea of “Do You See What I See”.  This week, we are going to spend a few minutes considering how God utilizes our hearing.

Last week, we considered people decorating for Christmas and its significance as a symbol of the season, and as a means of preparing.  But if there’s anything that signals the beginning of the Christmas season more than Christmas decorations, its Christmas music.  While we in the church might think that this Advent-Christmas-Epiphany cycle begins with the first Sunday in Advent and the fine folks at Macy’s and NBC might think that the official Christmas shopping season begins with Santa showing up at the end of the Thanksgiving parade, we all know the truth: Christmas really begins when all the radio stations start playing wall-to-wall Christmas music.  As their playlists become the soundtrack to our lives, we tune in.  This whole phenomenon started as a way to automate the radio stations while the staff took Christmas off, like the rest of us do.  Proving popular with listeners, stations began taking those playlists and running them a few days prior to Christmas Eve.  Listenership increased.  It doubled.  In some markets, it tripled.  And paying heed to their audience (and advertisers) radio stations began moving up the start date of the Christmas format, so that a few years ago, the radio stations experiment with taking the month of November prior toThanksgiving and  playing the Christmas format on the weekends.  

If you listen, people feel strongly about this.  Some look forward to the day when radio stations switch to this new format or feel “safe” loading their own Christmas music on to their MP3 players.  On the other side of the coin are the Christmas purists.  Any hint of excessive holiday merriment and eyes roll.  Its not so much the aural version of a “bah-humbug” but rather, its the fear that if we listen to too much Christmas music then the season will somehow lose its significance.

These feelings run deep.  Indeed, someone no less weighty than St. Augustine made the observation that when we sing, we are praying twice.  Music effects us deeply, stirs us.  We know this is true because of our experience.  Some of the most intense conversations we have about how a church lives out its life together revolves around what music we have in worship, how much, at what tempo, and to what instrumentation.

But we know this from the Bible, too.  When we look at the Gospel of Luke, Luke can’t go more than a few verses without breaking out in song.  Miriam, Zechariah, and Mary all break out into song prior to the birth of Jesus.  And on the night of the Nativity, the Angels sing to the shepherds, pronouncing the good news for all the world to hear.  Later on, Simeon and Anna both break out into song when Jesus is presented at the temple. Everywhere you look in the story of the Incarnation, music is happening.  And it should be, for this is a joyous event.

But with all this music breaking out--Christmas carols on the radio and song every few verses in Scripture--there is still a silence that exists during this season.

Last December Garrison Keillor wrote, “The great unspoken question of Christmas is, ‘What do you want? What would make you happy?’”  If we appeal to a more base selves, that question turns around hearts and minds to things or possessions.  When we get altruistic, or think someone is looking or listening, then we turn towards the familiar “world peace” or even the self-effacing “oh, I’m fine.  I don’t need anything.”  Keillor muses that people respond, “I don't know. Just give me some of what those people over there are having. They look happy. I'll have what they're having.”  

All too often we settle.  We settle for thinking that the joy of Christmas is something invented by people in the marketing department.  If not that, then we think the great unspoken question is about only ‘loot’; the more expensive gift, the better.  Resigned to those two options, we get despondent and like Keillor’s quote, we think that true experiences of the season are inaccessible so we sigh, and like looking at someone else’s dinner at another table in a restaurant we say, “oh, I can’t decide.  I’ll have that.”  All the while, we are left empty.  

Many times, we do the same with our faith.  We have this great unspoken question.  We sit and wonder if we really believe what we say we believe.  We question whether or not Jesus’ words have any power in our lives.  We to listen to others and, returning to listening to our own hearts, we wonder why our life isn’t like there’s.  

I learned a lesson in high school.  The neighborhood in which we lived had many nice houses.  Our’s was nice, too.  But it wasn’t anywhere near the opulence as some.  One of the things that jarred me upon moving into that house was that none of the kids in my neighborhood played together.  Neighbors didn’t visit in each other’s yards.  Instead, one neighbor would put in a pool.  A few months later, the house on the other side of that neighbor would put a pool in, too.  One yard would resod the lawn.  Again, a few weeks later, the house next door to it would put in new sod.  

And I never really understood it as “keeping up with the Jones’”.  Rather, I saw this as people grasping for straws in their search for meaning.  The reason I say this is, I started putting one and one together as I noticed the teenagers talking about their parents pending divorce and my parents gossiping about neighbors seemed to align with the houses that kept on remodeling or adding on.  

And I think, sometimes, we do this in our spiritual life.  We hear about something going on in someone else’s life, thinking they have everything figured out, and we appropriate it to our life.  But it doesn’t work because we are listening to others to the exclusion of God.

Over and over again, the songs in Scripture tell us two things: fear not and God is with us.  These are wonderful words to hear.  We might hear, see, and experience some things in life that might be scary but listen to the song.  Fear not.  Sometimes the things that overwhelm our senses to the point of fear are the tool God wants to use.

But also know, we are not alone.  The message of the incarnation is that God desires to be among us so that we do not have to go through anything by ourselves.  

I don’t know about you, but as much as I love to sing, the only time I care to sing a solo is in the shower.  But if I have people around me singing what I’m singing, I’ll sing out.  That’s the message of the incarnation.

Do you hear it?

Advent Resources

November 29th's worship service at Avondale Pattillo was a tremendous experience. As we continue our journey towards Christmas I wanted to offer two suggestions for guiding journey spiritual journey this season:

Advent Conspiracy is a website and movement that Ahren mentioned in his November 22 sermon. Under the rubric of "Worship Fully, Spend Less, Give More, Love All" the organization helps people and congregations return to a more fully developed sense of Advent and Christmas. They also have a correlating community Rethinking Christmas where people can share ideas for gift giving in a new vein.

Avondale Pattillo's former pastor, David Jones, sent me a link to a wonderful web-based devotional guide, Following the Star. I encourage you to take a few minutes each day and utilize this wonderfully creative resource.

Thoughts on Veteran's Day 2009

Today is Veteran's Day; Armistice Day, as known by some.  In the United States, we pause on this day to remember and be thankful for all those who have served in our military.  Whether you served in a time when military duty was compulsory, you signed-up our of a sense of duty, or you thought of it as a way to pay for college, I want to say thank you.  


Even in times of peace, service in our armed forces are not always ideal.  Periodic deployments mean separation from family.  And in this time in the life of our country when we are men and women serving in the midst of 2 wars, our need to remember, give thanks, and offer prayers is even more poignant.


Two events make this Veterans Day special.  First of all is a point of history.  Observed as Armistice Day, this was originally the day that was to make the end of The War to End All Wars (a.k.a. The Great War, or World War I).  2009 marks the first year that there are no longer any more persons alive who served during that war.  As that war begins to fade in our global, collective memory, may the atrocities of trench warfare and no man's land never fade.  And may we, one day, pay heed to the purpose of Armistice Day observances: that we would remember so that it would never happen, again.


And this Veteran's Day cannot pass with thinking about the Memorial Service yesterday at Ft. Hood, Tx.  Many a commentary has been written about people being deployed for three, four, and possibly even five tours of duty.  I do not want to talk about the merits of that policy.  But what I do want to think about this morning are the people faithfully say yes each day, never knowing what that answer to a call might hold.  I'm sure none of the people at Ft. Hood ever thought a psychiatrist would crack and go on a killing spree.  May God be with our families who lost loved ones.


As I write, I notice that CNN is reporting that a soldier's body has been found.  I pray that it's not the body of the man who was reportedly sold off after wandering away from his unit.


Lastly, I remain mindful and pray for those on this day who have served in the midst of conflict and seek this day to find peace within, acceptance from neighbor, and absolution with God.  


Our veterans are exactly that: ours.  I saw a tweet about the number of uninsured veterans being over 60,000 and I was amazed.  And we cannot help but notice the high percentage of homeless being people who have served in war, especially people who served in the 2nd Gulf War and Afghanistan.  As responsible citizens, not even mentioning people who live up to the example of Jesus, we dare not let these fall through the cracks in our society; not after they have gone where sent and done what was asked of them.  


So please, when ever you see a Veteran today or any other day, say thank you. But take the next step.  Move beyond the sound bite.  I guess that's why I love this PSA: 

Pausing to Consider Blessings

Its hard to believe that we are already approaching Thanksgiving.  It never ceases to amaze me how time flies by.  It only seems like yesterday that we were passing out water at Avondale Estates’ Labor Day race.  And it seems like it was only last week when we were gathered at Cannon Chapel for Joy’s baptism.  Now we are on the verge of celebrating Thanksgiving.  Just yesterday, it startled me that we haven’t made plans for Thanksgiving.

Isn’t it amazing how, if you let yourself get too busy, you cannot pause long enough to even consider what we’re thankful for.  And if you don’t watch out, all of a sudden Thanksgiving has passed and we’re full-bore into Advent before we’ve even given any pause to this wonderful time of the year.

So before we get into the swing of things, I thought it good to pause and consider the blessings of life.

• Having a daughter who loves her “dee” and smiles every time she sees my picture.
• Being married to a wife who loves me “just the way I am”, even if it is one that occasionally goes to bed before all the chores are done around the house.
• Children who play tee ball on a sunny day underneath our pecan grove.
• A staff who understands and practices the model of servant leadership.
• A God who loves me enough to meet me where I am and challenges me to grow, daily.
• Family that supports when needed
• Friends that lend an ear, even when they are on vacation.
• Coaches who believe “the process” isn’t just a marketing tool, but a means of success.
• A church that stepped up to the plate when called upon.
• People with a vision of church as vital partner in the community
• 12 cup coffee makers for early mornings with little sleep
• That there is something interesting on TV when Joy refuses to sleep, speaking of little sleep
• The generation of aspiring clergy coming behind me. You challenge, inspire, and provoke creativity.

I’d say its been a good 2009, so far.  How about you?

Peace,

All Saint's: Living into a Legacy

When ever All Saints rolls around I spend time reflecting.  As a pastor, I think about the the beloved members of the congregation to whom we have said goodbye... well “see you later” is a better way to put it.  I remember their family, the special part of their life that made this congregation so special, and I remember presiding at their funeral.  In addition, I think about those people whom you remember but I never met.  Names that grace windows, plaques placed in commemoration, and story after story that is a witness and testimony to a life well lived.  I pause and thank God for these people, too.  Even though I never knew them, I stand before you today because of them.

But I also walk through this exercise as a “private citizen” each All Saints day.  My mind returns to my childhood and I lift up the names of all the women in the church that would give my mom a respite occasionally, one inviting my brother to sit with her while another would invite me to sit with she and her family.  Doing so would actually allow my poor mother to do something in church besides pinching us hoping that we would act right.  They taught me about hospitality and how we--adults and children--behave in church.

I am also thankful for Sunday School teachers who woke up early and stayed up late in order to prepare lessons that taught me about Jesus, the church, and the Christian faith.    Close behind them are youth chaperones and staff persons who tolerated my horrible teenage years, especially the asking of difficult questions, just for the sake of being difficult.  They taught me that church is a safe place to explore questions.  But more importantly, they taught me that the deep questions of faith resist easy, simplistic answers.  And, more often than we are comfortable with, lead us to even more questions.

Ministers and church professionals who, as a young adult, prayed with me and listened to me are remembered.  Again being patient, they let me unravel and re-spin this amazing thing called ministry and calling until I was ready to embrace what God was asking of me.  They taught me that patience is, indeed, a virtue.

But this year is different.  This year, I am not the newest and youngest generation in my family.  This year I begin that process that will take me through the rest of my life--that of not just being the recipient of a legacy but also having the responsibility of taking all that I have received and pass it on.  

I became aware of this in quite a mystical experience that I still am not sure exactly what to make of.  It goes without saying that my daughter looks a lot like me.  As a matter of fact, people sometimes feel sorry for Susan because she and Joy bear little resemblance to one another, at least when it comes to physical attributes.  But if you think Dave and baby Joy look alike, you need to see pictures of momma Joy.  I promise you, sometimes, the resemblance is nothing short of uncanny.

On top of this, Joy will do something in the morning.  I would be feeding Joy breakfast and her mother would sneak up behind me to make Joy smile and, to be honest, distract her from the task at hand.  It was cute.  But on more than one occasion, she has behaved in such a way... distracted by somebody making faces at her... and when I turn around to let Susan know that I needed to feed her quickly that morning, there was no one there.  I have nothing in my faith system, other than the the belief in the Communion of the Saints, that can confirm what that is.  And I would like to think that the person that Joy sees and is flirting with but I cannot see is none other than her grandmother.  

And in thinking about how comforting such a thought would be, I am reminded of something.  Even though baby Joy will never meet mamma Joy, this woman who she never met will play a large influence upon her life.  For it was my mother that instilled many of the values I hold dear today.  And these are the values which I hope to pass on to my daughter as she grows and matures.

And likewise, every time I gather with the McDonald’s, Susan’s mother’s family, they all remember with fondness their sister-in-law Sarah, who died long before I came into the family.  There’s part of me that longs and grieves even for never had the opportunity to meet her.  I feel this especially when people say, “Dave, you really would have loved X about Sarah”.  

In a way, though, I feel like I know Sarah McDonald.  I know what she valued.  I know the fine people her children are.  And I see the love her widower has for her, even after all these years of their separation since she died.  I know she loved to laugh.  And I know that she doted upon my wife like nobody’s business.  And I benefit from her life, for she made my wife part of who she is and Susan will pass on what she learned from Aunt Sarah to Joy.  And that doesn’t even mention that all of the women in the family have her recipes....

In a few minutes, we will be lighting candles in memory of our beloved members of Avondale Pattillo who have gone to be with God.  We are a recipient of their rich legacy.  Story, hospitality, care, compassion, fellowship, learning together, and growing in faith through Jesus are part of their legacy.  

As we remember them, I invite us to be brave enough to consider the same question that confronts me with my daughter: what will my legacy be.  I might not know exactly what kind of father I want to be, but I have a clear picture of what I don’t want to be and I am determined to say a resounding no to that model of fatherhood.

With our faith, we might not have everything figured out.  Indeed, if any of us claimed to have all the answers, I’m not sure whether I’d be excited or worried.  But we do know the shape of the future, for it is God-shaped.  And we do know the trajectory, for our trajectory arches and leans towards Jesus, his cross, and the empty tomb.  As recipients of this rich history, not just of Christians, not just United Methodists, but of the particular and peculiar people called to be Christian community at the corner of Mountain and Covington, what legacy is Jesus beckoning to pass on, and to whom?

Amen.

Singing on the Train

Every Tuesday morning I meet with a group of pastors for Bible Study and prayer.  This past Tuesday, I made my way back to Avondale the way I usually do: I ride MARTA back to the train station near the church.  Usually, trip is one that is quiet and, sometimes, productive as the near empty train provides an uninterrupted time to write, return emails, or even (if I'm honest) catch a quick power nap.


For some reason, the train this past Tuesday was full.  Having a busy day, it got under my skin that the occupancy of the train forced me to stand, thus preventing me from getting a few things ticked off my to do list.


To make matters even more distracting, people were being chatty on the train.  I guess spending all my growing up years in cities that did not have mass transit or living in the U.K. for a brief spell, but I never have been a fan of people talking on a train.  Its not an antisocial thing.  But its more akin to not talking when in an elevator.


But on this day, my frustration quickly morphed.  There was a guy near me who, though was not talking, he was singing.  He was ad libbing (making it up as he went along).  But  while his lyrics were definitely PG-13 or higher, his voice was simply amazing.  The next stop, he got off the train, singing and enjoying his day.


And you know what, when I got off at my stop I had a smile on my face, thanking God for that man who was not afraid to sing in public.

Looking and Loving

Mark 10:17-31

Our lives of full of things and lists.  I wish I knew how much time and money went into different methods for creating and organizing todo lists, wish lists, call lists, etc.  One of the things that young clergy have to get around their mind is the reality that in our line of work, there is no such thing as an empty list.  Part of what you have to do is get comfortable with doing the things that need to be done while working ahead enough so that at the end of the day you can go to sleep knowing you’ve done your job.

The same is true for all of us, I think.  What do we do when we don’t get our lists done.

One option is to feel like Sisyphus and his rock, never getting anywhere, but keep trying. No change in results.

Another is to imaginatively insert ourselves in the painting Nighthawks where we give up on life, leaving so much potential behind, staring into a cup of coffee at a late night diner.

Another option is to be like the girl on the front of the bulletin.  She’s angry, for whatever reason.  So she’s taking all of her dolls, obviously not sharing, and he going home.  Her face dares you to invite her to share.

When I was a teenager, I was enamored with the musical Les Miserables.  Beyond the music being hauntingly beautiful, I was profoundly moved by the story of redemption.  Many of us know the story of how this many was imprisoned for stealing bread in order to feeding a child.  He gets out of jail and betrays a priest’s kindness by attempting to rob him.  Instead of sending him going back to jail, the priest gives him the items he attempted to steal.

Years later, we see that he’s a successful businessman and mayor of the town in which he lives in.  He adopts the daughter of one of his workers who becomes ill and dies.  And when she grows up, he risks his life to save the life of the man that loves his adult daughter.

In the midst of this wonderful story is an equally intriguing antagonist whose depth I didn’t really understand until I actually saw the show in person.  This man was a guard in the jail.  He just so happened to be a police officer in the town where the freed convict became mayor under an assumed identity.  And he became an inspector... something akin to FBI... where he made it his life’s mission to hunt down a con who was in jail for stealing bread and, upon getting freed, he assumed another identity.  

At one point in the story, this police officer is confronted with a reality he had never considered.  He thought much like this man in today’s Scripture did.  Keep the rules and everything is right with God.  Late in life, he comes to consider the notion that there might be grace active in the world--that sometimes people have good things happen to them that they don’t deserve or that people have bad things or, more specifically, punishments that should be imposed or happen and they do not deserve it or it does not happen.

He could not comprehend such a world.  Its too much for him.  This faithful, religious man who has followed the rules all his life finds the concept of grace so offensive and very much so flying in the face of everything he learned over his life, that he cannot deal with it.  And faced with the option of embracing this new reality of life lived with a concept of grace or ending his life, he chooses to live not in a life where grace happens.

It is much the same with the man who approaches Jesus and calls him good.  He tells Jesus that he has followed the law for all of his life but still wants to know what is necessary to inherit eternal life.  And Jesus’ response, for Mark at least, is a little surprising.  We would expect Jesus to respond like he does on so many occasions to the Disciples when they don’t grasp what his ministry and the good news means.  Time and time again, its almost as if Jesus gets frustrated or exasperated when the disciples fail to understand.

But when this man comes to Jesus and presents his spiritual resume full of rule keeping (which in and of itself is not a bad thing) Jesus doesn’t shake his head.  Jesus doesn’t roll his eyes.  Neither does he send him away or ignore him.  It says that Jesus saw him and loved him.

And only after seeing this man before him for who he was--frustrated that even though he had all of the boxes ticked he still didn’t have assurance of eternal life--that he gave his answer.  Jesus saw this man for who he was.  He was a collector of things.  He collected land (since it was an agrarian economy), he collected wealth and possession, and he collected successful weeks, months, and years of keeping the law.  And now he’s trying to collect one more thing: an assurance from Jesus.

Seeing this, Jesus the Great Physician gives his prescription.  Loving him, wanting him to become that which God created him to be, he tells him that eternal life is something he cannot collect.  And not only is it something he cannot collect but in order to obtain it, he must change his life.  He must stop pursuing collections and possessions so that he can obtain eternal life.  And, he must rid himself of all that clutter his frantic collecting has accumulated.

I know you think you know what’s coming next.  We, too must get rid of our possessions so that we, too, can eternal into eternal life.

Well, maybe.

This day, Jesus sees each one of us.  And part of that is seeing us for who we are deep down inside.  He sees our potential, our love, what we are passionate about, and what we value.  But Jesus looks at us and sees what annoys us, what we place as important in life (more important than him).  He also sees what we obsess about and what relationships we say are more valuable than that primary relationship between us and God.  He sees our anger, hurts and wounds we wear on our sleeve, falsely believing that if it wasn’t for them nobody, maybe including God, would notice us.

But just like with the man in Scripture, upon seeing us, Jesus does not get exasperated or frustrated.  He loves us.  And he gives us our prescriptions, too.

Recently, Joy has learned to crawl, which is a blessing and, well, let’s just say a whole new level of reality in the Allen Grady home.  Before she crawled, I could leave her in the den for a brief period while I went and answered the phone or changed over clothes from the washing machine to the dryer.  She was satisfied by her toys.  But now, that no longer works.  She crawls over the the step up into the foyer and, not being able to go any further to her goal (being in a parent’s company) she lets out this most pitiful cry.

Well, the first time this happened, Susan and I ran into the foyer, expecting to see something tragic, maybe even including injury.  But there she was, trapped.  She couldn’t get up onto the level of foyer without help.  So we picked her up and helped her get up to the next level.

Its the same way.  Moved to compassion, Jesus wants us to be free of the obstacle that prevents us from getting closer to God.  And he will do anything to free us from that which traps us.

So maybe it is money and possession that keeps us from gaining eternal life.  But maybe it could be not letting go of anger, hurt, or depression.  Maybe the freedom that Jesus wants to offer us is a freedom from the need to be right or the freedom to be successful.  

Whatever the case, this freedom is a freedom offered not out of demand or of intolerance.  After all, we are told that the man walked away mourning.  I take that to mean he did not head Jesus’ invitation that day.  We are given the same option.  We have free will; we can say no to Jesus.

We can continue things status quo going about our lives unchanged.  But the invitation is there.  It remains.  It never goes away.  Jesus sees us, loves us, and desires for us to live something truer, more real, and definitely more graceful than what we do today.

Will we walk away mournful like the rich man in Scripture? Or will we look back into Jesus’ eyes, smile, and say yes to the invitation.

Amen.