Presby-Musings

I don't bounce back from strenuous activities, road trips, music festivals, or a few too many scotches as I used to do when I was younger.  I know more than a few people reading this are feeling me now.  I'd salute you, but my elbow is sore for some reason that I cannot fathom.  I recently went to an outdoor music festival just north of Austin on the hottest spring day, with a heat index of 107 degrees.  I was there all day, enjoying the music, trying to stay in the shade, and not drinking enough water.  The short version of this sad tale is that I got dehydrated. Despite attending scores of outdoor music festivals, I have never been dehydrated until now.  It was a sobering and humbling experience.  Of course, the obvious solution would be to drink enough water and not other things that have the opposite effect of water.  However, another solution would be to avoid attending day-long music festivals when the sun is hotter than the sun's surface....

The other day, I read this line from a Mary Oliver poem and then jotted it down in my notes to think about:  Did you know the ant has a tongue with which to gather in all that it can of sweetness?   That quote may seem odd with the whole ant tongue image.  If you think about it too long, it feels downright icky.  The idea of ants crawling on me with their tongues scraping along... ewww.  So, let's not think about that, shall we? Instead, let's consider the deeper meaning behind Oliver's observation about the ant and its desire to gather all that it can of sweetness.  First, can we say that life can occasionally be a bit sour?   Let's concede that for the moment because it is accurate. That sad fact can also dominate our thinking about life in general.  For many people, sourness seems to be the only thing they can taste.   They gravitate to it like my kid does to Sour Patch Kids candy.  And before long, they start to believ...

Today is Trinity Sunday in the historic church calendar.  Trinity Sunday is the first Sunday of the season of Pentecost. It was established in the 1300s as a feast day of holy observance, and then in the early 1900s, it was raised to a primary of the first-class high holy day in the Catholic Church.  Trinity Sunday, as you might imagine, is a Sunday to celebrate the Holy Trinity, the doctrine that God is one but that God is also three.  Essentially, God manifests God's self through Father, Son, and Spirit, or in another way, Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer.  This doctrine is mysterious and sometimes complex, making it difficult to get our arms around.  And I'm not going into that at all today. This is a different kind of sermon.  If you want to hear what I say about the Trinity, look up "Three Is A Magic Number" in the sermons online at my church's website, or find it in my blog if you'd like to read it.  Instead, I want to start today's sermon by dis...

I reworked this one from the archives. It applies to me now at the beginning of summer, and I hope it resonates with you.  I've been tired lately---the kind of tired that you feel inside, but not in your bones, more like in your spirit, or in your head, or your heart... if that makes sense.   It's a deep tiredness because I have been daydreaming about taking naps--really long, satisfying naps.  And not just any naps anywhere, mind you. I am talking about the kind of naps that are ingrained in my memory, the naps I took in special places in the world—holy places where I rested my mind, body, and soul.  On the green summer grass of a garden next to Christ Church College in Oxford, England.  On a chair on a patio outside a cafe in the Vatican, overlooking one of the papal gardens.   On a warm, sun-drenched rock in neck-deep water near the shore of Lake Tahoe On my grandmother's living room couch, across from a window fan that hummed and gently blew c...

Yesterday was a good day.  I spent the day monitoring brisket and pork belly in my smoker, along with some sausage, and a smoked cauliflower for a vegetarian guest who was coming for dinner.  When everyone arrived, laughter filled the house, and then we all tucked in to eat; I had a sense that something special was happening.  All three of my boys were there, along with my dad and stepmom.  My middle son had invited some friends over, most of whom I've seen grow up from gangly high schoolers to young men.  The summer night was kind of perfect, and the cares and troubles of the world got pushed aside for a while.  I felt a sense of peace, and joy that I carried with me to bed last night.   Sometimes, you experience holy moments in the world, and you often don't realize just how incredible they are until you've had time to reflect on them.  You might feel something at the time they are happening for sure.   It could be a sense of time...

The other night, I was driving on a dark road in the Hill Country, and I had to use my high beams to see the turns in the road.  The problem was I had to keep turning them off because so many cars were coming in the other direction.  There was a moment when I forgot to turn them off when I encountered an oncoming car on a relatively sharp turn.  When it struck me that I had essentially blinded the person, I felt so bad about it that I wished I could have turned around to follow them to apologize.  Then I decided that might be a good way to get shot.   We've all had someone do that to us, though.  We've been on the receiving end of some ignoramus who just left his high beams on as we passed them.   Sometimes, we've responded by flashing our own high beams in a passive-aggressive way to show our displeasure.  And there have been plenty of times when we've been the one who forgot, and blinded the heck out of some other driver, who may have ...

One of the best college classes I ever took was one that I didn't really want to take.   Because of graduation requirements, I had to take either Art Appreciation or something so lame that I've forgotten it since then.  I do recall that I reluctantly signed up to take the art class, grumbling that I had to and that it was held at night.  It didn't take long before I realized that night class was the highlight of my week.  Now, I don't ever use the kind of math I had to learn in college to graduate, but I have gotten the most out of that Art Appreciation class and then some.  I'll need to explain how.  I love museums, particularly art museums.  I have been blessed to visit some of the world's most famous art museums, including the Louvre in Paris, the Hermitage in St. Petersburg, Russia, the Art Institute of Chicago, the National Galleries in London and Edinburgh, and many more.  Because of the class, I took many years ago, I learned about the...

The symbol for the medical profession is weird. It has snakes in it.  I'm sure you have seen that symbol hundreds of times but never considered it the fact that it contains snakes.  Snakes, y'all.  Ewww.  To quote Indiana Jones, "Why did it have to be snakes?"   In the ancient world, snakes were considered symbols of eternal life because they shed their old skin periodically and emerged with a fresh, new appearance.  This notion informs the story of Moses creating a cross of snakes when the Israelites were bitten by them and then dying in the wilderness.  According to the story, anyone who looked upon the cross of snakes was healed.  The symbol is called the Caduceus, and this is what it looks like:  Now that you see it you can't unsee it, am I right?  Snakes.   In Greek mythology, the god Hermes carried a staff with this symbol on it after he tried to stop two snakes from fighting by throwing his staff at them, which they...

There's an easy way to avoid disappointment, hurt, and spiritual wounding from other people. It's almost foolproof.   Want to know what it is?  I bet you do.  This is it:  Stay at home, in bed, order food to be dropped off, binge-watch Netflix, shower occasionally, and do everything you can to avoid going outside, talking to anyone, or engaging with people.  Some of you may have tried that foolproof plan during the pandemic. If you did, I must ask, "How did that go for you?" It may have started well, but after a few months, even the most introverted among us cried, "Uncle!" We found ourselves masking up and going to the grocery store even though we'd just had groceries delivered so we could see other people.  The fact is that being out in the world engaging with other humans will bring with it a certain amount of disappointment. It comes with the territory.  To be human with other humans means that at some point you will get hurt.  But if we'...

Summer is nearly here.   Here in Austin, TX, we are experiencing the slightly cooler but somewhat clear weather of Spring slipping slowly away.   The wildflowers are changing, too.  There are still scores of them, but the visible ones are the late bloomers, who will journey into summer heat before fading for another year.   I enjoy the change in seasons and the new experiences they bring.  It doesn't mean that I won't long for the crisp fall air around August or will dream of a warm, sunny Spring day at the end of winter.   But there's something about the shift from one season to another that is just magical, and life-giving.  Today, I am reminded of a quote from Annie Dillard I once read:  We are here to witness... If we were not here, material events like the passage of seasons would lack even the meager meanings we are able to muster for them.  The show would play to an empty house.  It's incredible to think about ...

Today is Pentecost, the birthday of the Church. The story of the Church's birth is a story of great suspense, mighty wind, holy fire, curses reversed, prophecy fulfilled, repentance, mass baptisms, and some Holy Ghost triple-action power!   Are you even ready for this?   Before we get into the story of Pentecost from Acts 2, I need to share something.   For the past several years, something has been stirring in my heart, and as I read the story of the Church in Scripture, I begin to catch glimpses of what makes the Church—the Church.   You see, I have come to know that the Church is not an institution---though we church-y types have certainly tried hard to make it into a movement of Jesus followers stumbling after him.   The Church was meant to illuminate the Way of Jesus, to help people see Jesus better along the Way.  Years ago, I read this quote from a famous Spanish anarchist and atheist from the early 20th century--a man named ...

I was supposed to have been a British history professor.   That was my path before I went to seminary, and I thought I had it all figured out.   I was working on my Master's Degree in Early Modern British History with minor fields in Medieval History and Renaissance Literature.  That might seem boring to some folks, but I loved it.  I am a nerd.  My major professor was a world-renowned British history scholar who told me that in his forty years of teaching, he'd never had a student he felt could pick up the mantle of his work and carry it after he was gone until I and a fellow student in the program came along.  I got a scholarship to study for a semester at Oxford University in England and to begin the research my professor wanted me to begin so I could start laying out my dissertation focus.  I had been accepted into the University of Chicago, George Washington University, and the University of Maryland, all of which had excellent British h...

There's nothing quite like stepping out into the unknown, especially when we have been comfortable where we are for so long.  I remember that feeling after a crisis of faith in 2011, as I emerged from all my doubts and questions in a different space than I had been.   At that point, I had a choice. I could return to my old way of thinking and its familiarity and certainty, or I could forge ahead into an unknown future without knowing what would happen.  I worried that my newfound ideas about faith and belief might have a consequence.  I worried it would cost me church members, friendships, and maybe even my career.   I was right about everything but the career.  I would like to think I am a consistently courageous person, but I know that's not entirely true.  Like most of us, I want to stay put in what I know rather than step out into the unknown.   But I did learn that if I was willing to show up and be courageous even a little at ...

This past Sunday was Mother's Day, which is often a difficult day for me to celebrate, having lost my mom several years ago.   It's funny how grief works.  You think it has passed, and you won't ever really feel the pang of loss, but all it takes is a small moment, a memory, a song, or a memorable holiday to bring it all back.   Today, I'd love to reflect on a stanza from Mary Oliver's poetry, or at least a few lines from one that speaks to grief and resurrection.   I read this line the other day, and it hit me in the gut like a punch:  Nothing lasts.  There is a graveyard where everything I am talking about is, now. I stood there once, on the green grass, scattering flowers.  Oliver had been reflecting on her deceased parents.  Then abruptly, she writes the above line.  It's jarring and compelling all at once.   But something is amazing about those three lines. Oliver looks back on the sorrow and pain of her loss and...

One of my favorite singer/songwriters is the British artist Luke Sital-Singh.  If you have never heard of him, you must look him up, download his music, and listen!  This morning, I was listening to one of his songs, "Nothing Stays The Same," and these lines absolutely struck me:  We all believe in something that'll rip us into shreds We all know why it stings to open up your chest We all show signs of greatness that we hope that someone sees Our broken teeth are scattered but we're smiling underneath A thousand bruising muscles still we're running on and on We all know names that ring like thunder rattling our walls Everyone is yearning for a reason for a cause Somewhere deep inside, we're holding on for dear life Oh dear life.  These words really spoke to me today.  And they reminded me of another kind of lyricist from the New Testament, the Apostle Paul.  (smooth segue, right?) In Paul's 2nd Letter to the Corinthians, he writes this:  8 We are hard ...

There's this term that gets employed quite a bit in the study of theology: a term that focuses on the big questions that must be answered about God.   The term is theodicy, and it's a big umbrella under which is perhaps one of the most challenging God questions that any of us have:  Why does God let evil happen in the world? I have often tried to answer this particular question with an argument about free will, which goes something like this:  Because God loves completely and without conditions, there can be no coercion of our love for God on God's part.  God won't force us to love God.  So, this freedom to choose means that we are also free to choose, and this freedom has both benefits and consequences depending on our choices.  Sometimes, the choices of ourselves and others cause pain and destruction.  Sometimes, the freedom of all of Creation to evolve, move, and act without coercion can mean tragedies, and disasters.  But God never forces...