Shalom Aleichim

 

 

This time of the year we talk a lot about peace.

I love this clip from Miss Congeniality (Sandra Bullock, 2000).

It’s almost cliché now, this idea that world peace is even possible in our lives. In 1969 John Lennon and Yoko Ono sang a song called, Give peace a chance (listen here) And while it was an anti-war protest song, at the heart of the message was the idea that humanity has a role to play in the peace of the world. Maybe John and Yoko were getting to the heart of a theological dilemma.

Is peace possible?

This past year has seen an increase in incident and an in intensity in racial and social upheaval in our country. Covid-19 has been a peace-stealer for a lot of people. Wars are commonplace for many nations in the world, and even though we aren’t technically “at war” as a country at the moment we have over 150,000 US troops currently stationed overseas. There are political wars in the Middle East, the economic wars in several countries in Africa, the race war that continues to be fought, the drug wars in Mexico and South America, there is just such war, and division all over the world.

And we haven’t even begun to talk about our own inner struggles. The tensions in many families, depression and anxiety. We are a culture that is the most stressed out of any people to ever live. There are even members in our United Methodist Church who want the Church to separate next year because we can’t agree on how our doctrine should reflect our understanding of human sexuality. And we’ve been fighting amongst ourselves every General Conference since 1972.

Is peace even possible?

Let’s try to get a good definition of peace. Because it’s not just the absence of conflict. I have seen family members who are great mediators in the midst of a family feud. It’s not just the absence of pain. I’ve seen chaplains who embodied a peaceful presence in the midst of suffering and dying.

Peace is not so much about what’s happening—OUT THERE, but rather what is happening—IN HERE, inside our hearts and minds.

When the Bible talks about peace, which it does over 300 times, it uses a Hebrew word called Shalom. In fact a common greeting during this time was “Shalom Aleichim”, which means “Peace be with you.”

The rabbis define Shalom as completeness, and soundness, as an ethical state of mind. The Apostle Paul said Shalom was a fruit that comes from living a life grounded in the Spirit, and the author of Hebrews said that Shalom is something that we are all to strive toward in our living to be at peace with everyone.

Jesus said the shalom-makers, the peacemakers, those who actively work toward the pursuit of peace are blessed, and will be called the children of God.

But is peace possible? In our world and in our lives?

There is an old hymn that proclaims, “Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me.”

Psalm 85 is a wonderful picture of peace in the. Verse 8 says, “I will listen to what God the Lord says, he promises peace to his people.”

I believe that God is speaking to each of us right now, in this moment.

But if we aren’t listening, how will we ever hear him standing at the door knocking?

How will we ever hear him saying you are my beloved in whom I am well pleased?

How will we ever him reminding us we were created in his divine image?

And how will we ever hear him say my peace I give to you. I do not give as the world gives, so do not let your heart be troubled, and do not be afraid? Unless—we are listening?

 

When the heavenly choir arrived on the scene at Jesus’ birth this is how Luke describes it: “Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace, goodwill toward men” (Luke 2:13-14).

Peace on earth. Offered through the Prince of Peace. That’s a beautiful image.

But read how Psalm 85 describes it: “Love and faithfulness meet together, righteousness and peace kiss each other. Faithfulness springs forth from the earth, and righteousness looks down from heaven” (Psalm 85:10-11)

Perhaps peace is not found in a treaty or a contract, but in a…kiss.

Only a poet would describe it this way. But maybe that’s how we are meant to understand peace.

Is world peace possible in our lifetime? I believe yes it is! But peace is the promise of God to his faithful servants.

If you don’t know Jesus as the Lord of your life then peace isn’t possible.

But if you do then peace is a fruit that the Spirit is cultivating in you, so work with the Spirit. Pray for peace. Seek after peace. Work toward peace.

And then, in the words of the Apostle Paul to the Philippian churches, “may the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus, Our Lord.”
Shalom Aleichim.

At the Table

  I have been really focused on the idea of “the table” lately. Not so much because I just want to eat at one, although I do enjoy that. But mainly the idea of the table as an extension of the Church ministry; a picture that is very compelling to me, as well as being able to answer the questions, “Is everyone invited to the table, and does everyone have a seat at the table?”

    

This has prompted a November sermon series in the two churches I serve called, “At the Table” in which we are wrestling with these questions in our own context by looking at times in the Bible when Jesus sat down with people at a table to eat. There are many times in Scripture where we see the importance of sitting down together and sharing a meal. I believe that this can be a holy act, and the table can be so much more than just a wooden structure that holds our food. It can be a holy setting where God is indeed with those gathered together in eating, drinking, and conversation. 

Luke 5:27-32 recounts Jesus calling Levi to “come, follow me.” And Levi does. He leaves his tax collector booth, his job, his way of life, and he takes off to follow this itinerant preacher as the newest disciple. 

But we are also told that Levi does something else, he throws Jesus a party! And he invites all his friends. But since Levi was a tax collector, those are the only friends he has, and so he invites them to the party. All of this causes a stir for the religious leaders of the day, the Pharisees, and so they ask Jesus’ disciples a question.

“Why do you eat with and drink with tax collectors and sinners?”

It’s a great question, and one that the disciples don’t even get a chance to answer because Jesus jumps in with the answer. And before we look at what Jesus said, I want us to think about our own tables for a minute. The literal tables where we eat with family and friends, as well as the metaphorical table of the church’s hospitality and invitational outreach. Do the people at our tables look just like us, think just like us, vote just like us, sin just like us, or do we have a variety of different people at the table? 

I am convinced more every day, that Jesus is the table setter and that we are simply supposed to extend the invitation to others to come to a table that we have not prepared, that we have not set, and that we do not get to pick and choose who gets invited, or even how they respond. 

I wonder if more people who disagreed about more things would sit down at a table and eat together, could they come together? I don’t mean would one person be able to change another person’s mind, I just mean would they be more likely to accept the differences that they encounter, and find more common similarities that they share. Could it be that what we have in common is more than what we differ on? I don’t want to oversimplify this, and I know that there are so many very important things that we disagree on, even in the Church. I am just wondering if maybe our role as the Church, the Body of Christ, is to be more of an inviter-to-the-table as opposed to a discerner-of-who-gets-to-eat. 

I know that many of us, deep down inside, want to welcome all people to the table, especially the ones we deem as the “sinners”. After all, that is how Jesus responds to the Pharisees question. He in turn answers them, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance” (Luke 5:32). 

But I also believe that only the Physician can provide the diagnosis. Last week I was talking to a 3rd grader who told me she had asthma. I asked if the doctor gave her an inhaler to use. “Oh, a doctor didn’t tell me I have asthma,” she answered, “I looked up my symptoms on the computer and I figured it out myself”.

Sometimes I think we treat other people the way that this little girl treated her symptoms. And the result is not good. It’s not up to us to diagnose others, only God can do that. We don’t have the right, or the spiritual diagnoses capabilities, to exclude others from the table because they sin differently than we do. And we don’t have the right, as the Church, to determine how long those sinners can come to the table before they change in the way in which we deem that they should. 

We are just asked to share a table with others. To love them and accept them as children of God. If you disagree with me, I hope that sometime soon we can share a table together and talk, eat, and drink in holy conversation. May God bless your tables this week.

Sidewalk Preachers and Ice Cream Cones

 

 

(Photo Cred: Heather Vaughn; "LOVE" Sign, Wythville, VA)

Our youngest son attended Open House at East Tennessee State University last week via ZOOM. He will be our 5^th child to attend college, and Open House through ZOOM is definitely different, but so is everything else about 2020. We are learning new ways to do what needs to be done.

            Let me say that ETSU did a wonderful job with how they had to work this. The presenters did great, and it’s always good for future students to hear directly from current students in their own words, and we were able to do that.

            At one part during the Open House the student leading the “virtual tour” was showing (on a digital map) the area outside of the library. She mentioned that this area is a “Free Speech Zone” that could be used for just about anything, but “the only real free speech will be the crazy preacher guy”, she said, “who just yells at you that you you’re a sinner, so just ignore him and go on. He’s basically harmless.”

            I must admit, her words shocked me when I first heard them. And then she was moving on down the map showing other buildings and explaining the campus layout.

            But her words have really stuck with me, which is why I wrote them down when she said this.

            I want to be honest here, because this is my Free Speech Zone, and share with you that I am an adamant believer in the need for effective evangelism, especially in this day in which we live, but I am also not a big fan of ‘sidewalk evangelism’. There is something that just turns me off for a preacher to stand and yell at people who pass by. I wonder how many people have heard a stranger yelling at them that they are a sinner, that the wages of sin is death, and that if they don’t repent of their sins they will spend eternity burning in the fiery flames of hell, and that caused them to stop and think about their own sins and ask for salvation? I don’t know for sure, but I suspect not many. And I base that off of hearing several sidewalk preachers over the years, and seeing the reactions of people passing by who just want to try to get around him unscathed, or choose to walk to the other side of the street in avoidance. I have even had a man wielding a big black leather Bible at me once, pointing his finger in my face while yelling at me that if I didn’t know Jesus I would burn in hell and was I ready to repent? He never even asked me if I knew Jesus, or if I knew how much God loved me. And I was just on my way to get an ice cream cone.

             I suppose that is where my concern is…not in ice cream cones, but rather in love.

            Jesus told his disciples, “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another." (John 13:35)

            Love is how we are called to evangelize. Not in judgement, condemnation, or fear.

            I don’t know the man who this student Open House leader referred to as “the crazy preacher guy”, but I do know that if that is how others see us as we share the Good News of Jesus Christ, then we are not doing it right, or at least not the way that Jesus did.

            There is a reason why the religious leaders of Jesus’ day (aka Pharisees) called Jesus a drunk and friend of sinners. It’s because he was with the people who needed to hear his message, and he didn’t wave Torah scrolls in their faces in the market square, he went into their homes and sat down and talked over dinner and wine (and maybe an ice cream cone for dessert).

            I wonder how many students stop to listen to someone yelling at them that they are sinners, someone who doesn’t even know them, and who isn’t taking the time to get to know them.

            I wonder, what if there was a soapbox preacher message of how much God loves them, that all of the beauty of this world is God speaking to them words of love through the warmth of the sun and the cool of the breeze. I wonder if a message that tackled tough questions head on to help students see God in their everyday lives, or a message that we are all God’s children and that He loves us all so deeply that He died for our sins so that we could really experience an abundant joy filled life here and now would have. Would anyone stop and listen? Maybe not, but I would much rather hear about that “crazy preacher guy who tells everyone how much Jesus loves them and hands out free ice cream cones.” We need evangelism. But we need evangelism based in love. There is already enough hate. It's time to stop being part of that problem, and get back to what we are called to do. 

 

We are one in the Spirit, we are one in the Lord

We are one in the Spirit, we are one in the Lord

And we pray that our unity will one day be restored

And they'll know we are Christians by our love, by our love

Yeah they'll know we are Christians by our love 

– Father Peter Schlotes

           

           

 

A New Path

 

I really admire people who can look at something, and see something new that isn’t there. I don’t mean like hallucinating or anything, but like to have a vision of what something new could be. At the churches where I serve we have a combined Sunday morning service outdoors right now, under a pavilion on a hill. Our outdoor worship presented the need for some steps to be installed to make getting up the hill easier. I didn’t come up with the idea to have stairs put in, I didn’t envision what that could look like, or what the math would be to ensure it would work. Some other church members did that. They looked at an obstacle that was preventing people from getting from one place, the parking lot, to the place where they needed to be, to worship. And so a new path was created, where there was no path before.

That’s at the heart of the familiar story of the crossing of the Red Sea (Exodus 14:19-31), where a new path was made for people to get them from where they were, to where they needed to be, because there was an obstacle in their way. It is a familiar story to many of you, immortalized in Hollywood film by Yule Brenner as Pharaoh and Charlten Heston as Moses, who stretched out his hands and the huge walls of water parted on either side. It is an amazing picture to try to visualize. And yet, the idea that God is making a new way for His people where there was no way for them before, is very practical to how God has been doing things all along, and I believe, continues to do things as well, even for us today.

Exodus 14:19 says, “Then the angel of God, withdrew and went behind them, the pillar of cloud also moved and went and stood behind them.”

God had led His people out of captivity, leading them by a cloud during the day, and by a pillar of fire at night. God was their GPS (God Positioning System) because they didn’t know the way to go. But God was also allowing fire and cloud to be a visible sign of His presence. He was with them. And they could see that. And that is how God led his people when they first came out of captivity because that is what they needed, they needed to get on the right path, head in the right direction.

But now there is an Egyptian army with horses and chariots coming up behind them, and there is a body of water in front of them, and at this crucial moment, God moves from in front of them, where they can see his presence, where they know he is there, to behind them.

God had promised deliverance for these people, they had gotten their hopes up, they expected something better, and now here they are in an even worse predicament than when they left.

Do they drown in what is in front of them, or do they die because of what is chasing them?

Have you ever gotten your hopes up and just knew that God had provided something for you, maybe something you didn’t even really expect to happen but you have those other prayer warriors who have been praying for you, and now it happens; the prayer seems to be answered, things are finally looking up, you let yourself get excited, and then the door just seems to slam shut. And you’re thinking “well, I would have been better off if I never even tried this.” OR “that’s why I never get my hopes up in the first place, something always happens to crush it.”

That’s probably how these Hebrew people felt too. And to make it worse, God moved.

If we’re supposed to follow, how can we do that if God is not in front of us?

They needed a miracle. But see I think everybody needs a miracle, but nobody wants to be in the mess that necessitates one.

But notice God moved out of the way because this is the time that the people of God need to show their faith in God and keep on moving. God brought them to this and He will bring them through this (LITERALLY), but they got to take some steps on their own.  And notice that God didn’t just move behind them because He’s playing Divine Peek-a-Boo.

 

Verse 20 says that God moved behind them “to come between the armies of Egypt and Israel.”

God was giving them a breather. This is a big obstacle in front of them, and they need a minute. So God in his mercy, got behind them to block them from the enemy that was attacking them so that he could show his power over the obstacle that was in front of them.

Maybe sometimes God has moved behind you to protect you from something that was coming up behind you that you didn’t even know it was there. OR maybe God has moved behind you because he has already showed you the way to go, you know where you need to head, you see the obstacle in front of you, but you need a little breather before you head into it…or maybe you need a little time for God to do something else amazing.

Because that’s what happens at the Red Sea. And perhaps that is what is happening at your Red Sea today as well. Be patient. Be still. Wait expectantly. Watch in amazement. Be faithful in prayer. And then be ready to move when the waters part.

The Certainty of not knowing

 

            “I don’t know.”

                I have gotten pretty good at saying these words lately. It seems like these words can answer most questions that I get asked, especially regarding things pandemic-related. Months ago I was trying to make educated guesses on a time-line of events when I was asked questions, but now I am simply resigned to saying “I don’t know.” And being the calendar-driven planner that I am, this is has been an adjustment. As of this moment, as I am writing this, the churches I serve plan to be meeting Sunday morning for an outdoor worship service at 10:30AM. Will that change? I don’t know. When will be back inside our building for worship? I don’t know.

                One good thing from all my “I don’t know’s” is that God does know. And I’ve known that all along, but lately that has become a deeper truth for me.

                Matthew chapter 16 ends with Jesus’ predicting His death. He is letting His disciples know that they will be travelling to Jerusalem together, and that He “suffer many things at the hands of the elders, the chief priests, and the teachers of the law, and that he must be killed” (Matthew 16:21).

                No one wants to hear that there is suffering on the road ahead, and the disciples were no different. I am sure that they all thought the same thing, but it was Peter who vocally objected.

                “Never, Lord!” Peter said, “This will not happen to you!”

                Sometimes I think I more than I do (don’t tell me wife). And sometimes I realize how little that I really do know. Peter thought that he knew better than Jesus, he thought he had a better way. And the reason for this, I think, was that Peter was trying to avoid the suffering that Jesus said that He would encounter in Jerusalem. Peter loved Jesus, and I don’t think that he wanted Jesus to suffer, but I also don’t think that Peter wanted to suffer either, and apparently heading to the city with Jesus would mean suffering for them all.

                And that’s natural. None of us want to suffer. The issue is that as Peter focused on the pain, he was missing the promise.

                Jesus didn’t just say that they would be heading into Jerusalem to suffer and that He would die. He did say that, and that’s probably where Peter stopped listening. Sometimes when we hear something that we don’t want to, or something that we don’t agree with we stop listening, and in so doing we miss the really important part that comes next.

                Peter missed a really important part. Jesus wasn’t just predicting His death, He was also predicting His resurrection!

                “And on the third day be raised to life.” (Matthew 16:21b)

                And so Peter rebuked, which means to correct strongly, Jesus because he didn’t hear the whole thing. He stopped listening because what he heard didn’t sound like what he thought it should. He had just made a big confession of faith as Jesus as the Messiah, the “Son of the living God” (Matthew 16:13-20), and now Jesus was saying that He would die? Peter thought he knew the answer to how things were going to work out, and this wasn’t it.

                Thankfully for all of us, Jesus wasn’t deterred by Peter. This was one prayer request that I am glad God didn’t answer. Jesus heading to Jerusalem and His death on the cross would bring forgiveness for the sins of all the world, and His resurrection on the third day would bring life to all the world in his name!

                Sometimes we don’t have all the answers. Sometimes life is uncertain. Jesus tried explaining to His disciples exactly what was going to happen to them, and they didn’t want to hear it. I think we would probably be the same if we knew everything. So, thankfully we don’t. And that’s OK, because Jesus does.

                Will we experience more suffering in this life, even this year? Probably. But I don’t know for sure. What I do know that is that when we focus on the pain, we miss the problem. And the promise is that God is with us. No matter what the future holds. And that is all the certainty I really need.

Connected at the Table

Now more than ever, we are looking for ways to stay connected. From how we connect with our jobs and clients, or with school, or with family and friends, connection is critical. And in my circles, how we stay connected as the church is an ongoing conversation. 

First, I want to say that I believe that every church in our area is trying, most more than they have ever done, to stay connected with members. From live streaming in our living rooms to preaching in empty sanctuaries into a cell phone propped up on a stack of hymnals, churches are doing their best to be the church, the whole body of Christ.

These stories inspire me and give me hope, so thank you!

And then I have seen some amazing and creative ways that churches are seeking to maintain connection. I love seeing the stories of the members of the church, not just the pastors, working alongside one another to bring connection in new ways that 6 months ago we would have never even thought about. 

These stories inspire me and give me hope, so thank you!

And all of this is tiring, as well. 

I talked to a church member a few months ago who asked me how I was liking all this vacation time I’m getting since I’m not working preaching now. And she was serious. For me personally, this season has been more exhausting than anything I’ve ever done in ministry. But most of the members in the two churches I serve have been incredibly supportive of me and my family during this time. I can’t put into words how thankful I am for my wife, Heather, also. She is the one who makes sure that the tripod is level and the angle is right every Sunday morning. She handles a virtual welcome and announcements and then hands it over to me to preach as she sits and prays for me. And she has been right by side every Wednesday night Facebook live Bible study, Sunday night Children’s ZOOM, Monday night youth ZOOM, and all of the other special video services we have done since February. I know that this isn’t the case in all clergy families, but I could not have done all this during this Covid-season without her. 

And now, as the number of cases in our county continue to rise, and the possibility of being back together in-person for worship keeps getting pushed further back, we continue to seek connection.

And as much as the innovative and creative ways of connection have inspired me and given me hope in our church, it is something else that gives me a deeper hope for the future of the “church”. 

Hugh Wallace, a member at Telford UMC, takes his laptop to Jackie’s house every Sunday morning (and took Jackie a mask since he didn’t have one). Jackie doesn’t have internet access, or a computer, or a smartphone. He is disconnected from all of the online worship opportunities. But now is connected because of Hugh. 

The kitchen table has become a place of worship, again. 

The table has truly been extended, again.

And all because one person took a laptop to another person’s house so that they could worship together. So that they could have church together….so that they could be the church together. 

I am amazed by all of our creative ways to stay connected, but perhaps the “house church” or the “kitchen table church” is what inspires me most right now. And it doesn’t take a lot. It just takes a Jackie who has a need, and a Hugh willing to do something about it.

The Superabundant Grace in the Leftovers

We have a ritual that we go through every week in our house. Heather and I go through the refrigerator and throw away all the leftovers that we kept for the week, the things that we brought home from the restaurant because we didn’t eat it all and we didn’t want to be wasteful and throw it away there, so we brought it home to throw it away here. The casserole from Sunday lunch, or sometimes just the things we thought we needed and so we bought them, only to never use them and have to throw them away. Then of course there are the things our kids have stuck in the fridge and forgot about.

The story in Matthew chapter 14 of Jesus feeding the 5000 with 5 loaves of bread and 2 fish is a great illustration of the grace that can be seen in the leftovers.

If there’s anything I know for certain right now about the world we are living in, is that there is a lot of uncertainty. When will our kids go back to school? What exactly will that look like? When can we come back to in person worship? What will that look like? When can we sing in public again? When will we be able to just hug someone again? When will there be a vaccine? When will this end? Like many of the psalms, we ask, “How long, O Lord?”

Today I invite you to read Matthew 14:13-21. It’s a familiar story that if you’ve been around church much you’ve probably heard before. It’s a favorite in our Sunday school classes and when more people than we anticipated show up for a potluck so we pray for Jesus to multiply our fishes and loaves as our counters are full of meatloaf and macaroni and cheese.

But at the heart of the story, there is a dilemma. There is a problem that arises.

It is the uncertainty of scarcity. It’s about not having enough, or at least feeling like we don’t.  When survival determines our mindset we lose sight of God. Gregory Jones, the Dean of Duke Divinity School, says this is when we “become practical athiests rather than Spirit-inspired people of hope”.

I think we live in a culture of not-enough.

Have you ever said there’s just not enough money? How many of you didn’t get enough sleep last night? Or felt like you didn’t get enough done this past week? Have you ever thought you didn’t have enough time to do what was needed? Or maybe that you don’t have enough skills to do it anyway? Or as we get older have you thought that there just isn’t enough time in general?

The mindset of not-enough will lead us to a mindset of uncertainty because of the scarcity we see, but the reality is that there is a certainty—and we can see it in the abundance of the leftovers.

I don’t think God shows up in amazing ways when we have too much. Maybe because that’s when we are more focused on our own security, but I have seen God show up many times in amazing ways in times of shortage.

Jesus is showing the need to recognize the responsibility to meet the needs of those around him, those around us.

And then Jesus invites his disciples into the work of distribution, as he gave to the disciples and then the disciples gave to the people.  And over 5000 were fed. And not just fed, did you catch that word in verse 20?

They were “satisfied”. It’s the same word Matthew used in describing the beginning to the sermon on the Mount in chapter 5, what we call the beatitudes.  There in verse 6 Jesus says “blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled…or, satisfied.

Filled to brim, stuffed, over-flowing.

With 12 basketfull left over!

Some biblical commentators say there was 12 baskets to represent the 12 tribes of Israel, and lots of books have been written on meaning of the leftovers.

But I see this as an example of the greatness of the miracle, thousands of people fed because Jesus took care of them with what others brought to him.

I see in this an example of what Sam Wells, called “superabundance”. This extravagant generous grace of God to not just provide the bare minimum of what is needed, but to be so divinely generous that our uncertainty of scarcity is replaced with the certainty that Jesus will provide.

Or as Paul put it in to the Philippians, “my God shall abundantly satisfy all your needs according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:19).

Because of his compassion, Jesus did something that the people could not do on their own.

Because of his compassion, Jesus continues doing something that the people could not do on our own.

God’s superabundant grace is extended to us as well, and we are invited to come hungry, and to be filled…to be satisfied.

            Today I pray that you see this superabundant grace of God in your life as well. God will provide your needs, and God will ask you to participate in the distribution to help provide the needs of others as well.

           

 

 

 

The Dualism of "Good Faith" Lamenting

“Why are you cast down, O my soul, 

and why are you disquieted within me?

Hope in God, for I shall again praise him,

My help and my God!” 

Psalm 42-43 provides a unique framework and insight into the question of innovative pastoral leadership in the Psalms. In fact, the refrain above, sung in 42:5, 42:11, and 43:5 asks, and answers a critical question framed with “why” and “hope”. As I have reflected on this Psalm I believe that it provides in its cohesion a fresh understanding that is much needed in today’s pastoral leadership as it hearkens back to the prophetic callings of the Old Testament prophets themselves. In the asking of the question, and in the answering of the question, there is reflected a model of holding complex ideas in tension together, rather than just separating them as opposites, such as the question of why and the answer of hope.

We live in a society of either/or. It has to be either this way or that way, and if it is not one way or the other then it must be a luke-warm compromise. I believe that this is not always the case. In fact, this Psalm (I will be referring to Psalm 42-43 as a singular unit of the psalter since originally these 2 Psalms were one unit based on their cohesive theme and the refrain mentioned above) helps guide us into a way of thinking, or perhaps remembering, grounded in conversation and question. 

As the opening verse of this Psalm paints the picture of the deer (actually the female hart), longing for the cool water of the flowing streams I am reminded of the opening of Augustine’s Confessions, “Thou madest us for Thyself, and our heart is restless, until it finds repose (rest) in Thee.” Each of us is longing for what will fill the desires of our souls, where we find our purpose and passion, our raison d’etre. This longing and searching can lead us to many places, and take us down many paths. Augustine, while taking many paths that led him away from God in his younger years, came to know the reality that our restlessness is made restful-ness only when we settle into God as that true rest. And likewise the psalmist turns that searching toward the “living God” (42:2), and places thirsting for God as the source of comfort and the source of “hope” that the properly-ordered life is moving toward, even in the midst of pain.

Dean Gregory Jones said that “too often we put things against each other that need to be and rather than or.” Holding things together in tension rather than just placing them against each other is a leadership need in our church today, even in our larger society today. The placing of differing views as polar opposites creates a space in between the two, a divide that is a gulf-like chasm that seems difficult to find a way around. The current state of our United Methodist Church is an example of this. And in many cases there simply is no way around, but perhaps that is because we do not need a way around, we need a way together. More of a bridge, rather than another path. That is where the dualism of the psalm offers cohesion as a bridge to come together. Even in the print layout this is seen. Two Psalms that are different on the pages of our Bibles, one numbered “Psalm 42” and the other divided by a separate number, “Psalm 43”. We see by looking at them that they are not the same. And yet when we read them we see that they go together. They are cohesive, not in their identical nature, but rather in their thematic purpose and flow. They complement one another. My wife is not identical to me, but she is the perfect complement to me. In some ways, I don’t make sense without her. And this gets to a point of innovative pastoral leadership that I see as critical today, and that is seeing the complementary aspects of another, rather than only focusing on the divisive aspects.

“My tears have been my food, 

Day and night, 

While people say to me continually, 

“Where is your God?” (Psalm 42:3)

As I read these verses I am reminded of times in my own life where my only sustenance seemed to be grief and pain. The painful imagery of tears being the source of nourishment could provide the food for a soul which is embittered and full of sorrow. And this theme is fairly prevalent in life, and so is a prevalent reflection in the psalter as well. The psalms of lament are the largest category of psalms in the Bible (perhaps this speaks to the amount of lament we might face in our own lives), but Ellen Davis writes that “when you lament in good faith, opening yourself to God honestly and fully--no matter what you have to say--then you are beginning to clear the way for praise..toward the time when God will turn your tears into laughter.”

Can one be miserable and joyful at the same time? Can there be wails of lamenting and a strong hope in the same breath? Can there be justice delivered and mercy extended in the same situation? Can we maintain aspects of the past while at the same time embracing a newness of an unknown future? And the answers are Yes! Pastoral leadership that can speak the language of cohesive dualisms do not focus on the polarizing divide, but rather begins with seeking to allow “opposable thinking to hold them together in tension”.

Dean Gregory Jones writes that “traditioned innovation is a way of thinking and living that holds the past and future together in creative tension...our feet are firmly on the ground with our hands open to the future.”

Two great places to begin in seeking to help our churches, our community, and our world, hold together hard things in tension is through conversation and remembrance. 

This psalm is a seeking answers through the medium of conversation. “Why are you cast down, O my soul?” I think of the many times that I have asked myself questions like this, and the answer was obvious, because of what was happening to me, that’s why! It’s the situation that is going on around me or where I find myself that has caused a downcast soul within me! And for the psalmist writing here this was true as well. Commentators write that the psalms of Korah are “about how to face exile in hope and continued service born of loss.” Their identity (the descendants of Korah) and even functional societal roles were relegated to a past ancestral action of Korah. The lament is a holy conversation with God, trusting in His justice (verse 43:1), safety (verse 42:9, 43:2, 43:3), and steadfast love (42:8).

And it is in the act of remembering that the psalmist is able to boldly proclaim, “Hope in God”. The post-exilic people hearing and singing this psalm could only remember the stories of the good old days of being among the throng of people heading in a procession to the temple with singing and shouts of thanksgiving (42:4), and hopes to one day be able to do that again (43:4) (and so do we!). And in the remembering there is hope. 

This past week my wife showed me a Facebook memory of a picture of her and our middle daughter, Hannah. The picture was from a year ago, but we haven’t talked to Hannah or been able to have any contact with her since December 19, 2019. She left a note and left home and asked us not to be in her life until she was ready. 

And so we wait. 

We lament. 

We send texts and messages but get no response. 

We feel downcast. 

We check her bank account activity to ensure she is still alive. 

We pray. 

And we remember, as the psalmist did (42:4). 

As my wife, Heather, showed me her Facebook memory she said, “I’m glad I have those memories”. Even in the pain there are memories of joy, and even in the waiting, there is hope. There is an eschtalogical hope in Psalm 42-43 that rises above the situation and allows hope in pain to be held together. And that is “good faith lamenting” lived out in cohesive dualism in the psalms, and in life. 

You can have anything you want

“You can have anything you want.”

When I hear these words it reminds me of Solomon’s dream where God said this to him, and of course it echos words of Jesus that anyone who asks, receives.

            But mainly when I hear, “you can have anything you want”, it reminds me of my mother. Not that I ever heard, “you can have anything you want” from her when I was a kid. But it was a frequent statement that she made to my five children, every month when I took her to Dollar Tree. You know The Dollar Tree, right? The store where everything is only…a dollar.

            And so she would tell her grandchildren before we went in, “you can have anything in the store you want, just ask Granny for it”. And for a while this was pretty amazing, my children would wander up and down every aisle looking at everything, because they were told they could have anything, and so they would check out shower curtains and socks, note pads and wrapping paper, until they finally settled into the toy or the candy aisle. At some point they even realized that when the decision was really hard, and they couldn’t decide between the pink iced animal crackers and the sparkly hoolahoop, that Granny might buy them both….if they asked.

            As they got a little older the wonder of those trips began to wear off, I suppose when they realized that getting anything you want in a place where everything is only a dollar, wasn’t quite as thrilling anymore.

            “Ask for whatever you want me to give you”, the Lord tells Solomon in a dream. And Solomon’s request is one that we are all familiar with. Wisdom. The whole story can be read in 1 Kings 3:4-15 New International Version.

            Imagine this bold declaration was made to us by the Lord, “Ask for whatever you want me to give you”. What would we say to such a statement? What would we ask for in 2020?

            Many things are much different now than they were in early March. Many things have been cancelled, or changed so dramatically that they don’t even feel like the old things anymore. And yet the one true constant, the unchangeable, the immutable, the eternal stability in our lives, is Jesus, who is the same today, and yesterday, and forever (Hebrews 13:8).

            Our church worship services have been, perhaps, forever changed by Covid-19. And even though the orders of worship have been altered, even though the predictability of our services has been up-ended, and even though the normality of our Sunday mornings is very different, the reason we worship has not changed.

            Seeking God in worship, and in prayer, is still the first step in hearing what God has to say to us. Before we ask anything of God, before we can do anything for God, we must first be still and listen to what God is asking of us, or perhaps even offering to us. That’s probably why God visited so many men in the Scriptures in their dreams, for some of us this is the only time we are still enough to listen.

            And so Solomon asks for wisdom to govern the people where God has placed him. A discerning heart, and to distinguish between right and wrong. Between good and evil. And to administer justice, to do what is right and to ensure that what is right is what is being done. And then in the 2^nd half of chapter 3 this wisdom gets put to the test.

Ask for whatever you want me to give you.

            Solomon could have been dumbfounded by the magnitude of this, he could have been overwhelmed by the enormity of the options. When you can have anything in the whole store our tendency is to go up and down every aisle, and to look at everything, many things that we simply don’t need.

           

            Solomon asks to be the leader that God will equip him to be. The leadership and the throne was given to Solomon by God anyway, so it makes sense that the tools that Solomon needs will be provided by God as well.

And perhaps that hasn’t changed.

Perhaps God is calling you into a more defined Christian leadership role within your family, within your church, within your community. And perhaps this reminder of Solomon asking to be the leader God wanted him to be will help you.

1.      Seeking God in prayer and worship (1 Kings 3:4)

2.      Admitting what we don’t know (1 Kings 3:7)

3.      And asking boldly for God’s guidance and wisdom to be His servant leader to the people where we have been placed (1 Kings 3:8-9)

This is not just a summary of Solomon’s gift of wisdom, these are steps we can implement in our own leadership roles to be the transformational servant leaders that God has called us to be, who God is equipping us to be. Right here. Right now.

So, “Ask for whatever you want Him to give you”, and trust that He will give you what you need.