Presby-Musings

In my latest book,  Love God, Love Everybody: Following Jesus In Our Divided World,  I wrote an entire chapter entitled "Love God and Do What You Want." I  paused momentarily and read that sentence, realizing it sounded like a shameless plug or a bit la-ti-da, if you know what I mean. But then I thought about the fact that there is this book I wrote that has a chapter with the aforementioned title, and I have to admit---that's pretty cool.  I loved writing that chapter, if you must know.   The basic premise is that when pursuing a relationship with God, you tend to love the things God loves.  So what you do after that is pretty much what God wants, too.   It wasn't an original thought.  I partly borrowed it from St. Augustine, who coined the phrase this way, "Love God, and do what you will."  There was another quote that I almost included in that chapter that I wish I had.  It's from author Maya Angelou's classic work on race in America, I Know Why

You learn something new every day.   In fact, I was today years old when I discovered that El Shaddai,  one of the names of God in the Hebrew Scriptures, originated from the word shad, which was used to denote fertility.   In other words, this particular name of God conjured up feminine imagery to those who first used it to describe God.  Over time, however, it took on new meanings, mostly related to destruction, protection, war-like, etc.  The idea of God having a "softer" side didn't do it for those who trusted in power, might, and weapons more than God.  Language is powerful, and the language we use to describe God typically reflects how we feel about God or imagine God.   And I should also say that authentic feminine imagery is not weak by any stretch of the imagination. It is powerful, mighty, and strong in ways that most masculine images are not.  Many years ago, I stopped using gender-specific words when I spoke or wrote about God.  It had nothing to do with feel

Sometimes you just need to listen to sad songs.  It's true. There are seasons in our life when we just need to put on a playlist of the dearest and saddest songs we can think of and let it play.   I've discovered that as long as I know that the playlist will end and I don't need to keep listening longer than I need to, it's pretty cathartic to let the sad songs in for a while and just feel sad.    While reflecting on this practice I've adopted, I realized how I generally process feelings like sadness, which led to a significant revelation I'd like to share in part.  Because of what I do for a living, I often need to compartmentalize emotions, to put them away until I have the space to deal with them.   One example of this was when I sat in a meeting in my office talking about youth ministry issues, just a couple of hours removed from holding a church member's head up in the emergency room as he was choking on blood.  That kind of whiplash is rare, but there

As I write this, I am listening to the news accounts of the 128th mass shooting in the United States and the 19th such event at a school or university this year.   Three children and three adults were senselessly slain today in Nashville at Covenant Presbyterian Church School by an assailant who appears to have once been a student there.   Thankfully, unlike the terrible school shooting in Uvalde, TX, law enforcement officials immediately entered the school and stopped the assailant before more lives were lost.   I quickly studied social media platforms and discovered the same old arguments about assault weapons and the Second Amendment.  All are made by the same kinds of people standing on opposite sides.  Politicians did what politicians always do: they sent their "thoughts and prayers" and did their best to make political hay.   Pundits of all stripes made pronouncements.  Bloggers blogged. Cable news sensationalized.   And in a few days, we all know what will happen.  Not

The other day I was reading the daily Lenten reflections I've received during this season from the Center for Contemplation and Action---the organization founded by Fr. Richard Rohr--when I discovered something unique.  The particular reflection I was reading was from Estelle Frankel's book, The Wisdom of Not Knowing , and the focus was on a story from the book of Exodus from the Hebrew Scriptures.  After escaping 400 years of slavery in Egypt, the Israelites in the Exodus found themselves in the wilderness where food was scarce.  Even though it would mean returning to servitude to the Egyptian Empire, many began to talk openly about turning back so they would at least have the certainty of food security.  The text tells us that God gave them daily sustenance through manna , which means, "What is it?"   Every morning the ground around the Israelite encampments would be miraculously covered in a type of bread, and they were instructed to only gather what they needed fo

Today is the Fifth Sunday of the Season of Lent.  Lent is a word that originates in the Latin word for 40. It is connected to a significant "Forty" in the Scriptures, namely, the forty days that Jesus spent in the wilderness after he was baptized and before he began his ministry.  Throughout the Scriptures, "forty" is a number that signifies preparation, testing, working through challenges, and being made ready.  During this season of Lent, we will focus on what it means to be prepared to follow Jesus wherever Jesus leads.  And to be prepared to follow Jesus, we need to learn to Live Differently, which is the title of our Lenten sermon series.  And during this series, we will focus on The Counter-Cultural Calling of Christ—What keeps us from becoming fully alive? What is the actual cost of discipleship in our current culture?  How do we live differently so that others might be drawn to Jesus?  Today we will explore how living differently means that because of Jesus,

Doubts are the ants in the pants of faith.  They keep it awake and moving. - Frederick Buechner  There have been more than a few moments when I doubted that God's purposes were for me and not against me.  I've good reason to think that God would not oppose smiting me with some difficulties, a challenge, or two.  I'm not the best Jesus follower, truth be told.  This is why I often say I'm "stumbling after Jesus."  There are a few rough edges to my faith.  Plus, I've got a lot of years of wrestling with the baggage I carry with me because of my fundamentalist upbringing, which brings a whole heaping helping of guilt, shame, and self-loathing with it.  I'm still a Christian after all these years, which is a wonder to me sometimes.  It speaks to the power of the Good News of Jesus and my hope and trust in God's overwhelming, unconditional love.  Even so, there are days when I don't feel warm and fuzzy about my relationship with God, and I also wond

In the faith tradition I grew up in, you had to "accept Jesus as your personal Lord and Savior" by praying what was commonly referred to as "The Sinner's Prayer."  The prayer went something like this:  Dear Lord Jesus, I know that I am a sinner, and I ask for Your forgiveness. I believe You died for my sins and rose from the dead. I turn from my sins and invite You to come into my heart and life. I want to trust and follow You as my Lord and Savior. I first prayed that prayer when I was six years old.  My parents typed up a note that they kept in their keepsake box with a brief narrative of the event.  In our faith tradition, you needed to remember the moment you accepted Christ for it to be real.   If you think I'm joking about that last bit, I'm not.  Even with all the proof, I constantly worried that I wasn't going to heaven when I died.  So every time there was a chance that I could, I would pray that prayer again. When I went through puberty and

This Sunday, I will preach from the Gospel of John chapter eleven, the story of Jesus raising his friend Lazarus from the dead.  It's a story I've shared over 150 times in memorial services over the last twenty years and probably another three or four times in a sermon on Sundays during Lent.  I'll make sure to give you the highlights if you want to familiarize yourself with the story.   Jesus is informed that his friend Lazarus is dying, a message given to him by Lazarus' sisters, Mary and Martha.  You can read between the lines of the text that these sisters believed that if Jesus would come and see their brother, he could heal him.  Jesus doesn’t show up.  He waits four days after Lazarus dies when all hope is lost in the Jewish tradition.  The spirit of the departed has moved on.  There’s no chance of a miracle.  And then Jesus tells Lazarus to come out of the tomb where he’s been lying for four days, and he does.  This story is unbelievable on a lot of levels; I ge

As I  mentioned a few Devos ago, I have this fantastic book that prompts you to write a poem about something different daily.  This book was a godsend because it lets my mind wander and enables me to express some creativity in crafting poetry, a discipline I am eager to explore further.  While I  haven't written a poem every single day since I received the book, I have written nearly forty, and the one I am sharing in this Devo is one of my favorites.  I'll explain why in a moment.   The prompt for this poem was to write about riding on public transportation, but it ended up being about something else entirely, as you will soon see:   On The "El" The Chicago winter sky was grey and heavy on the night in question, as if there was a question about the night, or the way I felt underneath the  grey, heavy sky.  I felt hopeful, in case you did have a question,  or were wondering at all; I remember it well,  that feeling of hopefulness, and that it was about  to snow, not y

Lent is a season that reminds me of a pilgrimage.  It's a spiritual journey through the days that often drag on between Winter and Spring, between Epiphany and Easter.  During Lent, the ground, hard from the cold, begins to give way to flowers that force their way to the burgeoning warmth of the slowly warming surface.   It's the perfect kind of space to walk if you ask me.   As I sit here now, I remember the first encounter I had with the idea of pilgrimage came from an abridged version of John Bunyan's classic metaphorical work, Pilgrim's Progress, written in the 17th century.   I read that book when I was ten or eleven years old, and the thought that I had then returned to me now in a rush.  Pilgrimage is hard.  It costs you.  And you find yourself along the way.  You also probably die.  At least that's what seemed to happen to everybody in the book, a fact that, even at an early age, I thought was grim.  But the notion that pilgrimage is where you find yourself

A few times in my life, I believe I heard the voice of God speaking to me out loud.  I get it if you are skeptical.  You won't hurt my feelings, I promise. I  am more skeptical than most people about those kinds of stories.  I've heard more than my fair share of preachers say things like, "I had a word from the Lord," or "The Lord told me to..." Then the next thing out of their mouth is some opinion they've held to be true anyway.  So trust me when I say that I was as surprised as anyone when I heard what I heard on at least two occasions.  The first time it happened was when I was sitting by the bedside of a woman in a coma and dying.   I got up to leave, and I swear I heard a voice say, "Stay."  Moments later, the woman opened her eyes for the last time, fixed them at something/one over my shoulder, and stared for several minutes before closing them.  The second time was when I was at a mass at St. Peter's Basilica in Rome, and I heard a

The story of Adam, Eve, and Eden from the first three chapters of Genesis from the Hebrew Scriptures is, first and foremost, a story for the ages.  It's a story that is for every time, every history.  What I mean by this is that it's one of many stories from the Bible that, while it ought not to be believed to be literally true , should be taken literally in its meaning and overall purpose.  To do otherwise cheapens the story, in my opinion.   Even St. Augustine believed that to assume that these first chapters in Genesis were a blueprint for how all things came into being was a disservice to the Gospel.   He essentially believed it was a metaphor, a universal truth that instructed human beings on what life was like when it's lived outside of a relationship with God.  In other words, this story is our  story.  Every day we have an opportunity to choose new life and abundance over a life of scarcity, which comes from believing we know best how to live our lives on our own t

Today is the Third Sunday of the Season of Lent.  Lent is a word that originates in the Latin word for 40. It is connected to a significant "Forty" in the Scriptures, namely, the forty days that Jesus spent in the wilderness after he was baptized and before he began his ministry.  Throughout the Scriptures, "forty" is a number that signifies preparation, testing, working through challenges, and being made ready.  During this season of Lent, we will be focusing on what it means to be prepared to follow Jesus wherever Jesus leads.  And to be prepared to follow Jesus, we need to learn to Live Differently, which is the title of our Lenten sermon series.  And during this series, we will focus on The Counter-Cultural Calling of Christ—What keeps us from becoming fully alive? What is the actual cost of discipleship in our current culture?  How do we live differently so that others might be drawn to Jesus?  Today we’re going to explore how living differently is possible bec