It Is a Small World

I recently returned home from Florida where I helped chaperon 320 high school musicians on a six day trip to Disney. On the third day of that trip I found myself wandering the streets of the Magic Kingdom on a Sunday morning instead of leading worship in my congregation. We had turned the clocks ahead for Daylight Savings Time in the middle of the night so there were relatively few people in the park when it opened. It was the best way for me to experience the Magic Kingdom but Disney’s nightmare: A individual walking the park alone without any lines to wait in and with no desire to buy a souvenir.

The first attraction that caught my eye was the infamous “It’s a Small World” ride. I hadn't been on that ride since the first time I visited the park in 1976. I don’t know why it called out to me that morning but I jokingly thought to myself that this would be penance for missing worship on a Sunday morning.  So I walked through the maze of metal guardrails and climbed aboard the aqua-colored plastic boat and began floating down the twisting canal of this world-famous ride.

My Soul Cries Out

 If only everyone could experience the joy of being Christian, being loved by God who gave his Son for us!  - Benedict XVI ‏@Pontifex

In his last days as Pope, Benedict XVI sent out this heartfelt message through his Twitter account. I have no doubt that it is a sincere sentiment, expressing the joy that he himself has experienced knowing God’s love. I am also aware that English is not his first language and that sometimes we misspeak when trying to express deeply held emotions. So I acknowledge that the message he intended to give may not have been what was ultimately sent out to the masses.

But this is what was sent out: A message that implies that God only loves Christians. Or, if one admits that God loves all of the creation, it is a message that implies that only Christians can truly experience that love.

Healing and Heaven

I was working on a sermon about healing last week and had an amazing insight. Usually when we think about heaven we imagine a place where everything is perfect, a place where nothing is broken. We imagine a place where our physical and mental selves are whole and strong and healed. We envision healed relationships with loved ones who have died before us. And we envision an eternity in the presence of God; spiritual healing, if you will. In this picture of heaven all of the broken places in our lives have been healed.

But then I thought of the Gospel stories of Jesus’ resurrection.

An Election Lament

Today is election day. Never in my life have I been more happy to see an election come to an end. Instead of feeling patriotic and proud to participate in the election of our government leaders, I cast my vote with clenched teeth, angry and disappointed at what the process has become and wishing that I could cast a vote of “no confidence” in the whole lot.

Living With a Perfect God

There seem to be many competing images of God in the world today; a loving father, a benevolent master, a strict tyrant, a demanding ideologue, holy perfection and many, many more. Ultimately, our image of God is reflected in our own life. We see it in our expectations, in the way we treat others and in the way we think about ourselves. Changing the way we understand God can change almost everything about life.

Fullness of Time

Some days it feels like I’m supposed to be a cheerleader at a funeral.

Some days it feels like I am doing hospice work

with a patient who is unaware of their own impending death.

Holy Shit

At the end of July I developed two of my previous posts on lamenting (Lament and The Lost Art of Lament) into a sermon. As part of the sermon I invited people to write down their laments on a piece of paper that was photocopied to look like a brick. The staff at church and I assembled the bricks into a “wailing wall” that is displayed at the entrance to our worship space.

I sat down at my desk the following Tuesday and began reading through all the laments that were emptied out onto the paper bricks in worship on that Sunday morning. There were laments about the state of our nation and the political process. There were laments about the civility of our society, random violence and even specific examples taken from the news. There were laments about the aging process, health concerns, illness, broken relationships, and personal failures. And of course, there were laments about the death.

When I finished reading the laments I sat quietly for a time marveling at the resiliency of the human spirit.