It’s Christmas eve. It hardly seems possible; it feels like just a few weeks ago that Lisa and I moved into Bowling Green to begin our ministry with the people of Faith United Methodist Church. And yet, 6 months have passed and this calendar year is almost over.
It’s Christmas eve. We have so much written and spoken in our culture about this holy night that it is kind of confusing. Our words and actions around this time send so many mixed messages some might wonder at our mental health. Or perhaps it would be better to wonder at our spiritual health. We have elevated a plethora (for my family :D) of things and values to the level of devotion and even worship. We obsess about decorations and the purchase and giving of cards and gifts, often putting ourselves in debt that will burden us for months or even years. We do real harm to our physical and emotional health in arranging and enduring family gatherings that many times do more harm to our relationships with each other than good. We try to include worship in our schedule, if we have the time and if our friends and families don’t mind too much, but it usually takes a back seat to lots of other things.
It’s Christmas eve. A day when we commemorate a miracle. No, not the fact that a virgin supernaturally became pregnant and bore a son; although that is pretty miraculous. It has never happened before or since. And we are not all worked up over the astronomical signs that drew Magi to Jerusalem, or shepherds from their fields. The miracle we celebrate this night is that God loves us so much that he was willing to become one of us. The Son became Jeshua bar Joseph, born in Bethlehem and raised in Nazareth, so he could die for us and reconcile all people to God. That infinite, unconditional and incomprehensible love is the miracle we mark tonight.
It is Christmas eve. It is Love that causes us to fall down and worship; it is Love that we proclaim in song and light. It’s Christmas eve, a night to love and be loved, because the Word became flesh, and “what has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” And it never will!
Merry Christ-mass,
Bruce
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Friday, December 4, 2009
Just some musing
To use a line from my own Facebook posting this day, I was privileged today to be present when a dear saint graduated this life Magna cum Laude, with highest honors. She was a little lady with a huge love for the Lord and for His church. Several years ago she had become somewhat incapacitated, and yet she pushed herself hard to do whatever she could in service, and felt bad that she could not do more. I consider her life, and feel a certain amount of shame when I think of how many times I settle for less than all I could do, or worse, settle for doing nothing at all. Why is it that I so rarely push myself to give my best, or to do all I could do?
Ms. Betty is an example of a life well lived. No, she wasn't perfect; she had plenty of shortcomings. She would sometimes express her opinions in ways that could have shown more tact. She was fiercly independent, to the point of frustration for some who sought to care for her. But I have rarely met anyone who wanted to serve the Lord more passionately, in whatever way she could find. If she had been a cussing person, she would have cursed the limitations of her aging body, not so much because it inconvenienced her but because it kept her from doing tasks to help others or her church.
Now she is in perfect peace, and she leaves many to grieve her leaving this life. Her death leaves some confused & hurt. We children of all ages can't comprehend why people we love have to go away. Why do such wonderful people not stay with us as long as we need them? Why do such comparatively good people suffer the ultimate (or so it seems to us) consequence of sin in the world? Why does it so often seem like the dark wins?
Rather than answer these questions directly, our Lord responds in a different, better way. Rather than lay out logical arguments for or against the propositions of evil, God laid out his own Son on a cross as the ultimate expression of love, and of good. Rather than try to rationally convince us it is not as bad as it seems, God becomes Emmanuel, God with us, and walks through the darkness with us, even the dark valley of the shadow of death. And the best news of all is that Christ not only died for us, but rose again. The resurrection is the proof that God's plan worked, and that he has defeated the power of sin and death. Because Christ lives, we too shall live. Because Christ rose from the dead, Ms. Betty woke up this afternoon with no more pain, no more weakness, no more walker that she hated so much. Because Jesus came out of that tomb so long ago, we KNOW that he is with us, and with her, so we need not fear the dark any more, ever again.
In the meantime, we will miss having her, and so many like her, around. In the meantime, we hold each other up and walk together through the valley, where it is still dark. In the meantime we grieve, but not as those who have no hope. For us it is but a temporary parting, a bit like when we send our children off to college or Boot Camp. It hurts like crazy not having them around, but we know where they are, and we know we will see them again soon.
Goodbye, dear Betty. Until we see each other again...
Ms. Betty is an example of a life well lived. No, she wasn't perfect; she had plenty of shortcomings. She would sometimes express her opinions in ways that could have shown more tact. She was fiercly independent, to the point of frustration for some who sought to care for her. But I have rarely met anyone who wanted to serve the Lord more passionately, in whatever way she could find. If she had been a cussing person, she would have cursed the limitations of her aging body, not so much because it inconvenienced her but because it kept her from doing tasks to help others or her church.
Now she is in perfect peace, and she leaves many to grieve her leaving this life. Her death leaves some confused & hurt. We children of all ages can't comprehend why people we love have to go away. Why do such wonderful people not stay with us as long as we need them? Why do such comparatively good people suffer the ultimate (or so it seems to us) consequence of sin in the world? Why does it so often seem like the dark wins?
Rather than answer these questions directly, our Lord responds in a different, better way. Rather than lay out logical arguments for or against the propositions of evil, God laid out his own Son on a cross as the ultimate expression of love, and of good. Rather than try to rationally convince us it is not as bad as it seems, God becomes Emmanuel, God with us, and walks through the darkness with us, even the dark valley of the shadow of death. And the best news of all is that Christ not only died for us, but rose again. The resurrection is the proof that God's plan worked, and that he has defeated the power of sin and death. Because Christ lives, we too shall live. Because Christ rose from the dead, Ms. Betty woke up this afternoon with no more pain, no more weakness, no more walker that she hated so much. Because Jesus came out of that tomb so long ago, we KNOW that he is with us, and with her, so we need not fear the dark any more, ever again.
In the meantime, we will miss having her, and so many like her, around. In the meantime, we hold each other up and walk together through the valley, where it is still dark. In the meantime we grieve, but not as those who have no hope. For us it is but a temporary parting, a bit like when we send our children off to college or Boot Camp. It hurts like crazy not having them around, but we know where they are, and we know we will see them again soon.
Goodbye, dear Betty. Until we see each other again...
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