The End

We all have beginnings. I guess except God.

But the earth, air, light, animals, humanity all “began.” However you think about it, unless you have a better theory, everything begins. Also except for the mobius strip, everything has an end. Nobody likes to really think about it, especially at church because it is a little depressing. We all love the new, the fresh, the recently purchased, and are not so interested in the end of things.

I remember seeing the movie “stand by me” when I was almost in middle school. Stand by me was a movie with a really great 50’s soundtrack, and was about 4 middle school boys going to go see a dead body that they learned about from one of the kids older brothers. I was almost the age of these boys, and I wished that I could have their adventure on the train tracks. These boys were in the beginning of their life as they embarked on this adventure.  In this beginning they learned about the abuse that one of the boys took from his father. In this beginning they dodged a train from a bridge. Something about this movie’s storyline was a magnet to my soul.  And as I was a kid that was in the beginning of my life, I was learning from them. I learned the story of Lardass Hogan and how he got back at the entire town for being so mean to him. I was a part of boyscouts, but there wasn’t that solitary intimacy where stories were told and hikes were made. We were city kids.

Something about this beginning was fresh, and spoke to me. Near the end of the film the narrator talked about where everyone was now. One of the kids had grown up to be a bar tender and was killed because he got in the middle of a fight and was knifed. A grim end. There probably wouldn’t be a movie that would depict that storyline. Unless it was a story of revenge, ending in the justice and retribution of the innocent.

I’m probably going to get flack for this one, but I recently read the hunger games because of the hype encircling the new movie. And I was disappointed. Not because it wasn’t a rivoting storyline, it was super engaging. I just didn’t think the author would go there. When I learned the nature of the book, I thought: “Surely I won’t read about children killing each other… this will be a good book about how one person revolutionizes the status quo.” But I was wrong. I read about children killing other children in a gruesome battle. I thought it would be a story of alliance, and morality over the forced hand of the evil government. Nope. It’s about a girl who kicks the ass of other children in the hunger games. I’m pretty sure the other books in the series will get there eventually. I’m just not interested anymore, because though it is rivoting I feel sort of betrayed that the author had me go there, and realistically I don’t need to read any more about kids killing other kids.

When it comes to storyline, I enjoy suspense, I enjoy a real ending where the main character learns the whole story and it has an ominous tone. I love a happy ending as well… who am I kidding. Or if there is a poignant Standing on a desk and saying O captain my captain. And the bagpipes are sounding. And you are seeing respect of someone that is getting fired for being a scapegoat. We’ll you have me in tears. But full on tragedy or blatant gore to the end. You’ve lost me.

I wonder what the end of the story was like for Nicodemus. Nicodemus was this guy who was a part of the Sanhedrin that shows up in John’s telling of Jesus’ story. The Sanhedrin was the people that ran things in the temple. And because of the controversy surrounding Jesus, Nicodemus met him during the night. It was Nic’s beginning, at least in our story…that we hear the fabled football verse: John 3:16. For God loved the world that He gave his only son, that whoever believes in him shall not parish but have life abundant. He knew Jesus was a master of the things of God. But in the beginning, was completely confused by him. How do I enter my mothers womb again? He asked as Jesus talked about being born again. Can you imagine being introduced to Jesus and having his first things that he says make you question if he is asking you to crawl up your mom’s vagina?

Nic was on the inside, but he saw that Jesus had something that he wanted. He wanted clarification. He snuck around to find it, but was confused by Jesus’ answers. Messages about being re-born from the spirit, thoughts about how God works like the wind, cryptic words about salvation associated with moses’ serpent staff being raised up, and finally a soliloquy on trust in who Jesus is as the Son of God.

Something happened in that beginning besides confusion though, because Nic seems to keep popping in and out of John’s storyline. The next time he shows up in John 7 the Sanhedrin were starting to get pissed at Jesus’ message. They had sent some officers to seize Jesus, and the officers didn’t do it. Irate, they began accusing the officers for being taken in by Jesus’ magic. But Nic piped up, he said “Our Law does not judge a man unless it first hears from him and knows what he is doing, does it?” He questioned the torches and pitchforks they had for Jesus’, and very quickly they dismissed Nicodemus because of where he grew up. “you’re from galilee.” Here is a man, wealthy, has religious power. Yet because he was a voice of reason that went against the dominant paradigm, he was diminished.

Finally we see Nicodemus, after Jesus has been cruxified. John writes this: Nicodemus, who had first come to Jesus at night, came now in broad daylight carrying a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about seventy-five pounds. They took Jesus' body and, following the Jewish burial custom, wrapped it in linen with the spices. There was a garden near the place he was crucified, and in the garden a new tomb in which no one had yet been placed. So, because it was Sabbath preparation for the Jews and the tomb was convenient, they placed Jesus in it.

He had come at night, and now he came in broad daylight. Peter who denied Jesus 3 times, said there was no connection between them, was shown up by Nicodemus; someone who only felt comfortable talking to him at night.

This is Nicodemus’ end of the story. Burying Jesus. I’m not sure if being a part of the Sanhedrin that Nicodemus would be ignorant of the rumors that went out Easter morning. But this is all John gives us of this character. Nicodemus’ story ends here with myrrh and aloes in the light of day.

And I think that is what I want us to hold in tension here. I am so programmed to want the happy ending, or the new beginning where everything is fresh, or stand on that hope, that I don’t feel the difficulty of the end. I gloss over the loss of the character that got stabbed because that isn’t a good storyline. I feel gross inside because the author instead of giving me a vibrant story of revolution and morality I am stuck with the horror of children that end each other’s lives. Ends aren’t fun. And because of my need to skip to the Resurrection, I miss the value of the end of Nicodemus’ story.

His story is one of being placed in an impossible situation where to align with Jesus is to be diminished. He is intrigued; he sneaks to learn from him, he finds Jesus has much about him that is right, he begins defending him to his group, and yes he gets diminished, and finally.. in the end Nicodemus finds too much value in Jesus to sneak around, and he chooses to honor him with burial. The end of this story is not only one of compassion, but one of revolution. He is there tending to his friend in the light of day. Nicodemus’ end is a farewell to being bound by the constrains that the Sanhedrin would have for him. Though we may want to skip to Jesus conquering death, Nic’s mournful compassion of Jesus unlocked the chains of control his world had over him. Let’s not skip the weight and meaning of ends so that we can plow into new beginnings.

It is important to feel that loss. To be present in it. It allows us to cling to loved ones for support. It opens us up to new possibilities. It makes us human. It is hard, and scary, but if we don’t face it we will miss the weight and meaning in the end.

It is very much like in the Charlie brown cartoon where Linus is waiting for his blanket to be dried. There is nothing to hold onto. Anxiety and self doubt are up, motivation and efficiency is down.  Old weaknesses such as confused priorities and miscommunications emerge. People are polarized. Teamwork is undermined.

You never want to read a book or watch a movie that yields those results… it’s not worth it. Waste of money. Yet we all have beginnings and we all have ends. And yes those end’s transition into new beginnings. But today I want to pay respect to the weight and importance of the farewell.

Donna VanHorn has been a part of our community for years, and two or three years ago began the process of taking this community on as a responsibility. Within that time she listened to you, enjoyed you, spent Christmas with you, loved you. Also within that time she grappled with an end of her own. A threatening bout of cancer that through the difficulty of surgery and medication challenged who she thought she was. Now, as a masters holder in spiritual direction, Donna’s end with us is here. And It is important for us to say: thank you, we love you, and do great things.

Two months ago we did a journaling workshop in grief that Donna inspired. I went through the difficulty of coming to terms with the end of my dad’s life. He died about 2 years ago of a brain tumor.

In one particular exercise I remembered a time in which I played my harmonica in the Westminster Presbyterian Cathedral at my Grandpa’s funeral. My aunt LouAnne who is a harpist accompanied me. We played amazing grace together. Me for my Grandpa, and her for her dad. We had many beginnings together. My grandpa teaching me to hike up a hill in a zig zag fashion to make it less steep. Him teaching me how to fish. And him throwing me a box of harmonicas and telling me that I should learn, because he never did. LouAnne and I played in memory of him that day at his funeral.

It was this image that came to me as I was remembering my Dad. My dad was a civil war buff, and collected artifacts from that time. When he was 3 months away from dying, he chose what song would be played at his funeral. The song is called the Ashokan Farewell. A song that was made popular from the civil war series on PBS. It is those two thoughts that merged in my mind to bring this journal to life for me. Here it is:

The Harmonica solo resounds throughout the space, the harp is playing the joy and golden tone echoing through the cathedral walls. The sound echos and is warm and happy to be here with you.
The song rises and falls and is dreamy, the joy is bright and the vibrato is like water on the still pond that you tossed a small stone into.
The brightness of the tone is like the mountain air.
The tone than goes to the Ashokan Farewell and paints the dark clear night and a large full moon over the water.
The dreamy sadness is sweet in the air and the memory of my dad is within it.
The song ends and there is a warmth and echo in the sanctuary
[The warmth of the wood and the cushions of the sanctuary allow me to be still and happy."
I love you Dad.

ASHOKAN FAREWELL
The sun is sinking low in the sky above Ashokan.
The pines and the willows know soon we will part.
There's a whisper in the wind of promises unspoken,
And a love that will always remain in my heart.

My thoughts will return to the sound of your laughter,
The magic of moving as one,
And a time we'll remember long ever after
The moonlight and music and dancing are done.

Will we climb the hills once more?
Will we walk the woods together?
Will I feel you holding me close once again?
Will every song we've sung stay with us forever?
Will you dance in my dreams or my arms until then?

Under the moon the mountains lie sleeping
Over the lake the stars shine.
They wonder if you and I will be keeping
The magic and music, or leave them behind.

Give Donna a hug. Be sad, Be happy for her, Be present, and celebrate her farewell with us.

Healing with a Blank Slate

Last week crystal talked to us about the sustaining andhealing power of what we do. And how we choose things that tend to keep us where we are, rather than doing the difficult movement that actually causes healing. Like an oxygen tank, many of us have chosen to do things that look like they are healing, but they only coil around our necks and profess our coming demise. How do we be still and allow for healing?

My friend Galen heals little kids for a living. I talk with him once a week, and he tells me the crazy things that are happening in his practice. He’s a pediatric physical therapist, but his skill level and abilities move beyond simple muscle and structural manipulation. Weekly, I am inspired and almost moved to jealousy about how visceral his faith and connection to God is providing practical life change in others. He isn’t prescribing Tylenol to lessen the pain of the hip dysplasia, he is doing the work to heal the problem that is afflicting these people. He isn’t giving oxygen to the dying, he is providing life.

This doesn’t immune himself from the pains of affliction, or the inevitability of death. About once a year one of his kids dies, because of the level of physical ailments that they have. He is rocked by each of these occurrences. Yet he continues to learn new techniques of healing, and is very good at his Job.

Sometimes, as I talk to him, I long for his abilities. The cut and dry aspect of his job where “Hey this no longer hurts.” means the job is complete. Listening to the techniques and knowledge that he is working with, I am inspired and sometimes I feel a little shattered inside. Just because the stories that are coming from my end of the conversation aren’t nearly as miraculous, awe inspiring, and life changing.

Maybe you have never known anyone that has had the gift of healing, but I’m sure you can imagine that sometimes the vicinity of that gift might make you feel a little broken; or maybe act broken; or maybe just more aware of your brokenness. Sort of like finding out your long time friend is a practicing clinical psychologist, and thinking to yourself as you talk to her “I wonder if she thinks I am fucked up?” I also think it also is the draw of power. When someone can make you whole, there is great power in that.  It also has the potential to draw a crowd. People who want healing, and people who want the gift. The group of people that are gathered around the guru to fix them so that they may be like the guru. They are there because of what this guru will give them by proxy. When I listen to my friend I am enchanted. I long to have my eyes opened where God and magic are in the air.

I think that might be why a first century home in Capernaum was packed to the hilt. There was someone who would make you whole there. He was in town. He was at Gary’s house. This healer was the eye of the vortex in which God and Magic swirled. Jesus, the person who was at the apex of the healing of the earth was at Gary’s house.

Near him floated his group. People that had gone out in his name and banished the dark forces that were housed within people. Healed their sick. And forgave peoples sins with common water, not with a burnt offering from the temple. The disciples did what Jesus did. But at Gary’s house was the real deal. Not someone who was close to him. The guy himself.

Gary’s house was packed. People wanted to be there for all sorts of reasons: maybe they had a bad back, there was a dude that would go into epileptic convulsions, most of them were there because of a rash. Some were there to watch the show. They wanted to see if it was true. Some of them were there because they were looking for a story. And others were there because they wanted to put an end to the hocus pokus.

Four weeks previous, three roofers were working. Sil, Tony, and Jesse were good friends, and their families hung out a lot. Their kids played together. Though he was usually very careful, Tony slipped and fell about 20 feet. He landed on his neck, crushing two of the 7 cervical vertebrae resulting in paralysis. Sil and Jesse did what they could to help out their friend, but it was getting to be a huge burden, and caused several fights in their home.

The two roofers found out about Jesus arriving at Gary’s house. Could it be that this man had the power to heal Tony? They had to find out. They got two of the people in their roofing company, and played hooky from their job to see. Carrying their friend was slow going though; and they got there late. The place was packed. There was no room for them. They couldn’t get their friend close. There was just too many people. That was when Sil looked up. The roof, of course! Back then the shingling was somewhat pliable, whether it was thatching or whatever. A skilled roofer could peel up the roof and enter through there. Sil and Jesse did their job, scaled the wall and peeled up the roof, secured Tony’s pallet with a rope, levered it from the main beam and lowered their paralyzed friend down into the living room to where Jesus stood. Perched atop of the ceiling the four looked down to see this:

Jesus looked up and was dazzled by Sil and Jesse’s efforts. He then looked into Tony’s eyes and smiled. Then came something they didn’t expect. "Son, I forgive your sins."

 Sil slipped. His grip on the ceiling beam re-clenched to prevent himself from plummeting on top of Jesus from 20 feet up.”What?” He thought as he was about to witness something incredible. Instead  of his friend becoming whole. his sins were forgiven? Some religion scholars sitting there started whispering among themselves, "He can't talk that way! That's blasphemy! God and only God can forgive sins."

Sil hardly cared about Tony’s sins, but he was disappointed that this was the route the healing would go.

 Jesus knew right away what they were thinking, and said, "Why are you so skeptical? Which is simpler: to say to the paraplegic, 'I forgive your sins,' or say, 'Get up, take your stretcher, and start walking'? Well, just so it's clear that I'm the Son of Man and authorized to do either, or both . . ." (he looked now at the paraplegic), "Get up. Pick up your stretcher and go home." And Tony did.—he got up, grabbed his stretcher, and walked out, with everyone there watching him. They rubbed their eyes, incredulous—and then praised God, saying, "We've never seen anything like this!"

Last week we talked about the things that we do to maintain our life rather than heal it. Some of us have identified certain things that act like the oxygen tank, maintaining our stabilization, but communicating the death to come. Some of us have, as of this week, begun practicing things that will promote healing and pull us out of stabilization into thriving.

It is my hope today that we become people who in their entirety communicate the health and vitality of God. And it is my thought that it begins and is replicated by the same means Tony received healing on that day he was lowered from the roof.

Through forgiveness of our sins.

We do not use the word “sin” much here because it has taken on a manipulative, and condescending air to it. Where, when the word sin is used, it automatically creates a one up one down relationship where peers don’t exist and only the righteous and the failed begin. You may have heard the definition of sin as sidesteps on account of pain. Where you are doing your best to dodge the bullets coming at you. And your dodges are usually using others as a human shield. This world shoots its bullets fast and hard, and we are doing our best not to get hit. Sin is our attempt at OUR stabilization. And much of our time our best means is accomplished by throwing others under the bus. Have you experienced being thrown in front of someone’s life bullets? Have you done the throwing.

We have seen the billboard:” Jesus came to forgive sins.” And it has been trivialized, and billboardized into a joke. Because the agenda of those wielding the sign has not been to move in forgiveness but rather move in judgment of sin. Really, do you have to tell me that shooting the man was messed up? Really you have to tell me that the rape was something God didn’t like? The people holding the sign on the street have not been interested in healing those around them with forgiveness, but rather taking up the sign to promote their own self righteousness and purity of thought. How sad that the message coming from those who hold the sign is “think the way I do and you will feel good about yourself as well”. Talk about an oxygen tank. Take this Tylenol and you won’t feel the pain. Believe what I believe and you will be so occupied with trying to convince people you are right that you will be so distracted that you wont be able to take part in the words you are carrying.  If only they heard the message of their sign. That they are to look in the eyes of the person with paralysis and relieve them of the terrible atrocities they committed to their fellow man just by living.

The time they cut that friend out of their life, forgiven, the time they used that other person because they were feeling bad about themselves, forgiven, The time they gave that man the bird for cutting them off in traffic, forgiven, the time they manipulated that person to get their way, forgiven, the time they got revenge, forgiven, the time they were cold to the person who deserved it, forgiven, the time the person didn’t hold the same belief structure… also forgiven.

Jesus purposely didn’t set up a government, because he saw that a heart that is poised for good, governs itself. You don’t need to extrapolate what would happen if all criminals were forgiven, you just need to start where you live.

When Jesus taught us to pray, he was clear about the mark of someone who was going to embark on healing the world. Not just the stabilizing it. He said “‘And forgive us our debts (our sins, our trespasses), as we also have forgiven our debtors (sinners, and trespassers).

In a time in which the temple held the monopoly on God’s forgiveness through burnt offerings, John and Jesus used common Jordan water to communicate the availability of forgiveness for all.

We may want the ability to restore healing to the body. We may want the magic that was swirling within Gary’s house in Capernaum that day of Tony’s healing. The thing is: we do. It has been trivialized and beaten on all sides so it is a joke to those who hear it. But if you have ever experienced confessing to someone your sins, and had them listen and say “I forgive you.”  And not hold it against you … but continue to be your friend. You know how life changing it is. The weight lifts. The wet cement that you are breathing dissipates. Perhaps that is the reality that Tony felt that day, initially his arms and legs refused to move. Yet his soul was saying “I AM FREE.”

Who do you need to forgive today? Who needs to be let off the hook? How do you need to be let off the hook? Consider that Jesus came to forgive you. How does that feel? What if you were to give that to someone else? The stranger. The spouse. The enemy. What if healing started with a blank slate? And maybe a smile.

Oh that we might become a people who have the ability to peer through the veneer of those around us and offer the thing that will provide our life to thrive. That we may do the hard work of not holding on to our pride to say that we are above being wrong, and ask for a pardon for our seemingly small injustices to our fellow man. Oh that we may take up the Godly work of setting down the offense and forgiving those around us, especially the hard cases. That we may see each other as peers and workers in developing a new world, one that lays down the sword and works together in the field with the plowshares.

Grace is god working, healing and moving. Today consider taking up the banner of forgiveness so that our world will be healed.

The Gospel of Dr.Suess

One day God said this is what I will do
I will send down my son I will send him to you
to clear up this humpity bumpity hulibalu

His Name will be Christ
and he'll never wear shoes
His pals will all call him the King of the Jews

He didn't come in a plain He didn't come in jeep
He didn't come in the pouch of a high jumping voveep.
He rode on the back of a black sassatu
Which is the blackiest creature you ever could view

He stood on a mound
which is a pile of ground
and people gathered around
without making a sound
thus he spake:

do unto others as they do unto you
that includes you young Timothy Foo

A Pharisee said to another he knew

Sin in socks socks full of sin,
How do we silence this Jahovadeedin

Lets wash him in wine and get him all clean
and into Sam Zittles Cruxifixion machine.

Twirl the Gawhirl and Release the Gableeze
and in go the nails just as quick as you please.

And it is said that he said as he bled.
Forgive them father for they know not what they do
then he closed his eyes and his life said adieu.

His friends said this is not good, this is not right
This man was a city on a hill with a light
He was to topple the plight of the mighty uptight
A young actor said "he did cure my stage fright"

For 3 days they grieved, and they grieved and they grieved
they achieved no relief in their grief grief grief grief.

Sunday the sun shown, and Mary alone
found the tombstone thrown, not a bone in the zone, nor Jesus prone,
so she let out a groan.
And O did that lone moan drone.

"Why are you sad, whom do you seek?"
said a voice that she thought was gardener Zeek
turning around with tears on her cheek
she peaked her beak at something that was hard to contrive
There saying "Mary" was Jesus ALIVE!

Tell the Blambetts, the Dutzers, the Gringles, the Snaries,
All the friends on the plains and the ones on the prairies.
That my raised self is the hope of new world to be
That you will create with your new eyes you see.
And he opened her eyes, and opened your heart too
so that she and others can live in-between two worlds old and a new
God watered the broken dry ground that was hardened
In an effort to welcome us all back to the garden

And the message it spread, and it spread, spread, spread, spread,
that Jesus the King was no longer dead.

 (adapted from this sketch by Kids in the Hall)

Slime: When Does Right Become Wrong?

We all have some slime that we hold. Most of it is in our nose. I remember as a kid having a cold and blasting out one of those sneezes that shot out a rope of snot at least a foot in length and running to my mom. Horrified, she tried to take care of it while at the same time dodging its infectious tendrils.

Slime has a protective quality to only the one using it. The rest of those who are in its trail, only seem to be marked and grossed out by its glistening path.

I found out last week that marked someone with my glistening path of slime about 3 years ago. The person was mature enough to maintain a relationship with me long enough to confront me about it. Unfortunately it took this long for this person to feel comfortable with me enough to let me know. When you hear the story you will see why it would take so long. The scenario was retold to me like this: I had just spoken at church on a subject that was specifically difficult for this person, and very much as usual, I used humor, and coarse language to try to get my point across. Well, in this case it didn’t sit well with this person. There was too much going on to just let it brush off their back. I’m not sure when they brought me aside, whether it was that week or a week later, but I remember it not being awkward. It was here that they told me the problem that they had with what I said: they said that the joking manner was hurtful and unkind, that the nature of the talk made them feel like they were in an unsafe place, and made them feel ashamed of the Bridge.

As they re-approached me three years later with the original confrontation, they offered up my response. To hear my words back from this person 3 years later was very much like if I were to hear about a time I aimed and fired a sneeze right at them. No matter how much it was a defensive mechanism to stop something from entering my nose that would make my body sicker, it still was a brutal attack of unwanted slime. And sure enough what I heard was that: “I prayed about what I was talking about, and I felt that this was appropriate for me to share, so… sorry”
And even though I said sorry, this was not an apology- or a listening for that matter. It was a defensive dismissal. It was the banana slug numbing the mouth of the confronter. And though what I said might have been an accurate portrayal of my snapshot of reality, it did nothing for the human who was now DISMISSED IN GOD’S NAME.

Because what I had pulled out was the ultimate in slime. It would be one thing if I simply dismissed this person by saying: ”Tough luck. My humor is my humor. Deal with it!” They could easily say. “well, the guy’s a douche…now I know.” But no, I pulled the pastor trump card: “God told me.”

“God told me” is the ultimate in responsibility pass off. And though it may be that scripture inspires much of what is good in the world. Most of what we see when people use the “God told me” phrase is: their excuse to not have compassion on the humanity that is right next to them. They shoot out the protective slime of “a higher power” so that they don’t have to experience the difficulty of working it out. “God told me YOU ARE A SINNER”…”God told me that what I had to say this Sunday was right, and your reaction was wrong”…”God told me it was important for me to hijack an airplane and drive it into a building.” When taken to this level it is clear that the monstrous use of “God told me” excuses the user from thinking about the actions they are taking to bulldoze the people next to them.

Let me be clear: it is very important to pray, to listen and to have an interactive relationship with God. And that includes obeying things that are difficult that come from your prayer life. However, when we allow those elements to excuse us from listening to or having compassion on those in our vicinity, we have made our right way of acting…wrong.

In Paul’s first Corinthians love chapter he describes how most of us see the whole picture: “Now we see in a mirror, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I will know fully just as I have been known” We all only see a little bit of the big picture… Sometimes we use our slime to pretend we know more that we really know. And eventually (like three years later) it shows.


I remember a story of another sliming that occurred.

A farmer was down on his luck. Crops weren’t growing, and there were several situations where his prize livestock were dying. Things were not going well on the farm. The,n as if things weren’t going bad enough, his children were in the grange hall discussing what needed to be done with the farm’s losses, when a storm came in an toppled the building. The farmer’s children were all crushed in the fallen rubble. All of them! Now I’m not sure if the level of loss contributed to what happened next, but in this farmer’s mourning, he began to develop a skin irritation that began to get worse. It quickly spread like a cancer over his entire body. It was painful and not getting better. People used to envy this great farmer and family man; now when they saw his boiled skin, they shuddered.

A couple of his friends came over and sat with him. What a picture! A friend coming to simply mourn; to sit and be with the afflicted. Sometimes that’s the only thing you can do. And it is the right thing to do. When someone loses their livelihood, children, or health, sometimes the best thing to do is simply sit with them. Listen to them. That’s all. What a gift to give your precious time to simply BE with someone.
However soon one of the friend’s map of reality got the best of him. In the time that he was sitting with his friend Job, he simply wasn’t focusing on the guy with a skin issue next to him. Rather, he was trying to piece together why someone who had so much, so quickly was decimated with nothing? His reality map told him that much of what happened to this man was far beyond unfortunate circumstances. Perhaps he was an insurance assessor that had to check the “act of God” box on his assessment of Job’s losses. Regardless, the situation demanded further exploration… because these repercussions could be personal. What did Job do to get into this mess? What did Job do to deserve all this? These became the important questions… because he definitely didn’t want to do whatever Job did.

So out of the silence one of the “friends” pipes up with his protective slime: “Hey Job? What did you do to deserve all this?”

Job’s answer was “nothing.”

Though an inquiry isn’t out of the question, there are times that are appropriate for mapping out cosmic reality… like college after drinking; and other times that are not. When someone has just lost their livelihood, family, and now their health; it isn’t your chance to learn from their mistakes. It is your chance to be kind, to mourn with them about the loss of their kids, to shake your head at the injustice of death, and sickness. It is your chance to encourage them to shake their fist at God asking why!?! It is your chance to be on their side. Be Sad. Be Angry. But to argue with them on how they MUST have done SOMETHING to receive such a blow from the heavens is just plain mean. He lost his children! He has skin cancer! It is not time for a teaching moment of a slimy interpretation of reality.

When we allow our interpretation of how things work trump our compassion and listening ear, we have made what we believe is right… wrong.


I received a more subterraneous sliming a year and a half ago. It was disguised as hope.
My dad had just lost the battle with a very personal form of cancer. He was very articulate lawyer who was diagnosed with a brain tumor that was growing on the speech center of the brain. As a result, my dad was trapped in his own mind. He could hear perfectly, come up with his answer, yet couldn’t communicate- his own personal hell. People thankfully were compassionate, and didn’t ask Job’s friends questions, they understood it was a time to mourn.
In September of2010 my dad died.
In my head I tried to relieve myself by saying “all dads die.” But making my dad into a statistic did no justice to the fact that all the rest of those dads weren’t my dad. And that I no longer had MY DAD. It was appropriate to feel the loss of that person in your life, and not dismiss it by adding it to the masses.

I heard many things during this time: I’m sorry for your loss. He was a great man. It’s better this way. You really can’t say the right thing to someone who is mourning. It all is a stupid, no win, piece of communication. Personally I think I would have just preferred a few who would come around me and sit.

It was here I got the hope slime – He’s so much happier now. At least you can rest assured that he is in a better place.

Now, I understand this map of reality. What is being said is: after you die, you go to heaven… and heaven is so much better than living here on earth.

But here’s my problem: I no longer have my father; so you telling me that I need to be happy about something that just happened is not helpful. On top of that, I might be able to understand if you said something like this if a child just moved out of the house and went to college; or if your co-worker just got promoted to a higher paying job with a nicer boss and great benefits. Though you can be sad that the change occurred, you actually can accurately see that “YES they are in a better place.” You can call them up and ask “is the grass greener over there?” You can see what they are posting on facebook. There is so much to validate this hopeful statement that they are in a better place.

On the other hand, telling someone to be happy for their dead father because he just got promoted to heaven… is severing the mourning process. It belittles the loss that the person living must come to terms with. It allows you not to be safe for the person mourning. They have to smile and wince with you in the room because you won’t allow for your vision of reality to include the pain and injustice that death holds within it. There is an injustice to death. There is a sting to death. And telling a child who just received a bee sting to have faith that the sting will go away is a brutal neglect of the task at hand. It’s time to tend to the wound. Comfort. See where it hurts. And be kind.

I know a majority believe in an afterlife of some kind. I have found that sometimes that knowledge anesthetizes us from thinking about the injustice and loss that is involved with death. I recently learned that historically, an understanding of a Heaven after you die is a more recent phenomenon. Rather, Christians and Jews during Jesus’ time believed in resurrection. They felt that death was an injustice that God, being a good, just God, would make Right. I was surprised to learn that when Jesus told the thief on the cross next to him, that “today you will be with me in paradise.” This was not heaven as we think of it today. But rather … early Christians believed that this was a place where God held those, until the resurrection, when all things would be made right.

I throw this out there because it was helpful for me to realize that I could be sad about my dad dying. That there were other, more substantial thoughts of hope at play within my faith, and I did not have to shut off my mourning process. If we do have a hope that God will make things right in the end, it is more important that we act in compassion today; and not just bulldoze someone who is grieving with a statement that shortcuts the real loss that they have experienced.

Just because it is uncomfortable to cry, mourn, hurt, be sad, be angry, be devastated; doesn’t mean we have to legitimize our wincing faces with a slimy God excuse of hope. It is not Godly to shortcut pain, and force others to be steamrolled in Jesus Name. Rather we must take into consideration the person next to us OVER our map of who God is. God can defend himself. The person in pain next to you needs comfort from the sting. They need you to not slime them with your questions about their mental ascent. They don’t need you to be right in your picture on how things work… they need you to be right there.

This even is important in the small things. I remember an action that was cut short in my marriage for the better. I don’t remember what happened… but I was right. In my wisdom I communicated to Crystal “I told you so.” And I’m sure it was done with absolute compassion (sarcasm is dripping from this statement.) It only took once to realize what was coming back at me. Crystal questioned me appropriately “How does it feel to be right?” My answer melted underneath itself.. “Good?...” My lesson was this: when my “right” is used against others it becomes a wrong.

Today, I wish to encourage you to be the kind of friends that will look beyond our unclear view of God and what is RIGHT, and consider that compassion for others and being a friend who listens is more important than being right. If I listened to that person who was saying they were hurt, if Job had friends that could simply sit with him, if I had a community that sought to grieve with me over the need to depict an afterlife to me, and if I could only have compassion for those around me… my right would stay right. Because I chose to cover my nose with a tissue, rather that slime the person with my need to protect myself.

Exile is defeated?

Once upon a time there were a people in exile.
A nation had placed its culture, economic livelihood, and lifestyle on the backs of Hebrew slavery. The leader of this nation was the Pharaoh of Egypt. The slaves had not always been slaves, in fact their introduction to the nation enacted a series of economic changes that saved the nation from famine. However through racism, culture, economic changes, and specifically a leader who was persuaded by the temptation of power, the Hebrews were being used as Egypt’s bitch.
People were using people in way that they shouldn't be treated
The people in exile cried, and God heard their cries.
An artist came forward who used a wooden stick to communicate that the exile was defeated. With a series of symbols, Moses communicated that the realities that underpinned the Egyptians’ world were faulted. The world in which Pharaoh had established was cruel, unkind, and not the way people should treat each other. This was not met with zero resistance. In fact the resistance escalated to the point where the Hebrew nation was cornered against a body of water that articulated the choices that that their oppressor was giving them. Be our slaves or drown yourselves.
The artist Moses planted a signpost in the sand that articulated a new way of doing things. His stick partnered with the compassion of God opened the sea. The people in exile did not drown, nor return to be Egypt’s bitch. They walked on dry ground to their freedom. And their oppressors were swallowed up.
Standing on the backs of others without their consent or blessing to get what you want is a faulted way of life. In this story, God says that those that build their life on the forced backs of others will be washed away. Moses took symbolic action that communicated how exile is defeated and that there is a different way of life.

Once upon a time there were a people in exile.
This scenario is a little more complicated as there are some layers to the exile. First of all, nationally, Israel thought of itself in exile, because it was under a larger government that only partially respected them. Rome had a sort of agreement with Israel, pretty much to keep the peace. Caesar knew that if he didn’t give Israel pockets of partial sovereignty that a revolt would happen that he could not control. So as a result, people like Herod were put into leadership because they understood the Jews enough to keep them at bay.
This wasn’t an easy way to live, and because of Israel’s history, they were looking for “a Moses” to take them out of political exile. They called this person the Messiah.
However, though Israel was experiencing political exile as Rome’s bitch, there was a subterraneous form of exile going on. Israel’s communication of who its God was, had pushed its culture, economic livelihood, and lifestyle into a class system that encouraged rejection of the other. The leaders of this movement, though very learn-ed in their history of God’s interaction with their people, were trapped into practicing a set of rituals that encouraged cultural popularity over graciousness, rejection of the sick, and other actions that eclipsed the message of God’s care for creation. Specific calendar days were spent neglecting the help of others, and the leadership kept these practice in place by either the punishment of social exile, or in some cases death. The people of Israel were being used as its religion’s bitch.
People were using people in way that they shouldn't be treated
The people in exile cried, and God heard their cries.
An artist came forward who used nature around him to communicate that the exile was defeated. With a series of symbols, Jesus of Nazareth communicated that the realities that underpinned the Religious leaders’ world (and Rome for that matter,) were faulted. The world where it was not OK to heal on the Sabbath, that wouldn’t touch a leper, that practiced ritual OVER people was cruel, unkind, and not the way people should treat each others; especially in the name of God. This was not met with zero resistance. In fact, the resistance escalated to the point where Jesus was executed on a Roman Cross which articulated the choices that that their oppressors were giving the world around them. Be our religion’s bitch or die.
The artist Jesus planted a signpost in the sand that articulated a new way of doing things. One Easter morning, a large stone in front of a tomb partnered with the compassion of God and opened up. The Messiah slotted to free a people politically from Rome had done something much more. Those who understand the significance of Easter morning realize that there is no longer a need to follow a religious, political, economic, or social organization that is based on the mistreatment of others. There is no longer a fear of drowning, or a need to return to be Egypt’s bitch. The people who understand the resurrection of Jesus walk on dry ground to their freedom of conscience.
Standing on the backs of others without their consent or blessing to get what you want is a faulted way of life. In this story, God says that those that build their life on the forced backs of others have no hold on the liberty of those that understand Easter. Jesus took symbolic action that communicated how exile is defeated and that there is a different way of life.

Once upon a time there were a people in exile.
A nation had placed its culture, economic livelihood, and lifestyle on the backs of African slavery. Nearly a century went by with the practice of human servitude within the ebb and flow of 15 presidents in leadership. Since the establishment of the United States, slavery was a controversy that was firmly planted in the ground of the southern states.
People were using people in way that they shouldn't be treated.
The people in exile cried, and God heard their cries.
On April 12, 1861 a war began that defended two thought patterns: One that said “this nation must be built on the backs of human servitude”; and one that disagreed with this axiom. Nearly 620,000 people died to uphold these ideas. Swords clashed against swords, swords hacked at bone and flesh, guns and bayonets ended the lives of those on both sides. Though the north won the war, it took more than 100 years to work out the kinks of what it meant. Because of the color of skin, there continued to be prejudice, cultural fear, economic detriment, and separation.
People were still using people in way that they shouldn't be treated.
The people in exile cried, and God heard their cries.
A group of artists came forward who used a bus seat to communicate that the exile was defeated. With a series of symbols, Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King, Thurgood Marshall, and the Little Rock 9 communicated that the realities that underpinned the white United States world were faulted. The world in which Jim Crow had established was cruel, unkind, and not the way people should treat each other. This was not met with zero resistance. In fact the resistance escalated to the point where leaders were incarcerated and highschool children were kept at bay by attack dogs and high pressure water from fire hoses. This articulated the choices that that their oppressors were giving them. Stand down or we will make you stand down.
The artist Martin Luther King Jr. planted a signpost in the sand that articulated a new way of doing things. His “I have a dream” speech partnered with the compassion of God opened civil rights legislation for this country. The people in exile did not continue to be hosed down. They walked on dry ground to equality.
Standing on the backs of others without their consent or blessing to get what you want is a faulted way of life. In this story, God says that those that build their life on the forced backs of others will lose moral highground, and ultimately be seen for what it is. Rosa, Martin, and the others took symbolic action that communicated how exile is defeated and that there is a different way of life.
We don’t live in a perfect world. In fact that is the point of what I am saying today. We live with exile all around us. Because of the way people are they are tempted to ALWAYS act like lobsters in a pot - consistently pulling each other into the boiling liquid so that we ourselves can escape, or be on top. It is our Job as a church to look at how people are treated and speak out symbolically against life “OK” with exile. We as people who understand the meaning behind Easter Sunday, must realize that we are free. Free from political, religious, social and economic underpinnings that demand the mistreatment of others. We are the bearers of this news. We are St. Francis’s naked body it the snow in opposition to the money that won’t be given to the beggar. We are to look for the bus seat that will make the tired Rosa Parks Sit and rest and make it into space for the weary traveler. We are to oppose the mistreatment of others to our death, even death on a cross.
What are symbolic ways of articulating God's image on a world that is slotted against this?
How do we enact healing and forgiveness in a world that only acts on payment for services rendered?
Are we slanted toward power, or love of the person that is closest to us in vicinity (neighbor)?
Are we slanted towards humans turned in on themselves, or towards real relationship in which difficult confrontations and healing occurs?
We must plant signposts in the sand that articulate a new way of doing things. And when people ask, “what are you doing?” Which is what they ask of all of these artists. Answer them with a fresh story about the human race being welcomed back from exile. And maybe if you look beyond the artist, you can see a loving God that inspired them to paint their picture.
If this line of thinking inspires you, Today I would like you to do two things.
I would like you to meditate on a current form of exile that effects you, or that you are exposed to every day. And I would like you to come up with some sort of symbolic act that communicates that this form of exile is defeated. And if you have the guts to do it, Post the results here.