Finger Pointing

We live in a world where finger pointing is a part of the daily menu of life. One only has to tune in to the national political conversations, from Iowa to New Hampshire to South Carolina, to hear the accusations flying, the fingers pointing. It seems to happen naturally as candidates seek to differentiate themselves, one from the other. Some could say that I am pointing the finger at these candidates as I write. Just goes to show how easily it happens!

Five days with my great-niece Margot, who is approximately a year and a half, has shown me that finger pointing can have a positive connotation. Whenever she cannot find the precise word in her vocabulary to fit the situation, or does not feel like making the effort to come up with necessary words, she simply points her finger. If she wants someone to move to a particular place in the room or upstairs or outside, she points her fingers. If she needs more water, she stands in front of the fridge, points her finger, and looks authoritatively at the adult she decides should get her drink, and the deal is sealed! If she wants to join you on the sofa, she points her finger at the place she wants to sit and someone places her there. If she wants to be read to, she points her finger at her book and someone responds. When Margot points her finger, she is not trying to be bossy; she is asking for someone to work with her, to help her do the things that she cannot yet do on her own.

I love my great-niece's concept of finger pointing! What if we embodied this concept? What if, instead of accusing others, finger pointing became about helping others do the things that they cannot do on their own? What if, when others pointed their finger at us, we viewed it as a request for us to work with them? What would happen if we let a little child lead us?

The First of Six Weddings

Yesterday afternoon and evening, our family held the first of six weddings for my great-niece Maddy. Maddy, a four year old, made the decision that she is going to have six weddings in her lifetime. The first was to be yesterday. Of course, she said with a smile, I won't have a husband at this one. I told her that was ok and that she was in luck -- that I am a pastor and could do (officiate at) her wedding. That intrigued her for a moment, especially after her great-grandmother explained what a pastor is and that I am one, really; and then she continued to make plans for the first wedding.

At first she wanted it to be downstairs in her condo; but as she talked, she decided to have it upstairs in her g'grandparents condo. Her outfit, she finally decided, for the first wedding was a pair of Fancy Nancy pjs that I had brought for her. As soon as she tried them on, she knew that was the outfit. She had a scarf on her head, her initial idea of a bridal veil; but after trying to get the slippery cloth to stay on her head, I suggested that we might fashion one for her - out of tissue paper. G'grandmother, always eager to foster creativity, hunted up tissue paper and the Virginia Beach version of Project Runway began, a low budget version. How we wished her g'mother was in town. She could have fashioned one with ease! The bride-to-be, just as Fancy Nancy would have done, created a work of art to be used in the veil. I then began to fashion the tissue paper into a veil, using tape and hair pins/clips. As strange as it looked, it was a hit with Maddy! So accepting of the gift offered!

Maddy wore the veil throughout the evening, while playing, eating dinner, and still playing. I kept wondering when the wedding would take place. At the end of the evening, when Maddy's parents gathered their children to take them home, and no ceremony had taken place, I thought that Maddy had simply moved on to something else. As she hugged me, she said, "My first wedding is done!"

Ah, I realized, the wedding was the afternoon we spent together as family, playing and eating and enjoying each other's company, creating the environment for the wedding, living out the wedding ceremony, for better or worse, as we went along! Out of the mouths of babes! I think my g'niece may have come up with the perfect idea for how a marriage should begin - low key, in the midst of established relationships, very naturally! I suspect this would take the stress out of the wedding day and might even change the divorce rate!

A little child shall lead us!

There's Got to Be a Morning After

It is the morning after Christmas. Memories of Christmas Eve worship and Christmas celebrations with family and friends still linger in the air. "A child is born to us!" At church, children in costumes retelling the sacred story. Candlelight caroling. A teenager portraying a shepherd reminding us of a God "made small enough" for us. A spirit of joy. At home, a quiet Christmas with Mark and Jessica, much different than any other I have experienced in my adult life. It was a leisurely Christmas, the celebration lasting much of the day. The making of angel biscuits for our traditional Christmas breakfast of sausage, angel biscuits, and grape jelly; the opening of gifts, one by one, so we can savor the moment, just as I have done all of my life. Calls and texts to and from family and friends, wishing each other a Merry Christmas! Snacking on meatballs, blue cheese bacon dip, and eggnog. Watching Christmas dvds. Baking dessert - spice cake with carmel icing, a favorite of Mark's and Jess'. Cooking a delicious dinner of beef brisket, mashed potatoes, stuffing, roasted carrots and brussel sprouts. The first Christmas in memory that we did not eat turkey/ham. I didn't know if I would like the change, but I did! I think it's a new tradition! Christmas Day wound down with the three of us together. Our day ended with Mark driving our daughter to the Amtrak station so she could return to Manhattan, her home. It was one of the most enjoyable and joyfilled Christmases I have ever experienced!

The thing about Christmas is that there's got to be a morning after! For some people, like our daughter, this means returning to work as usual! Others are hustling and bustling around town on this day known as the biggest return and exchange day of the year to take back gifts. Others are spending the day taking down Christmas decorations, making sure that, by the end of the day, there will be no sign of Christmas 2011.

I have always enjoyed the morning after Christmas. Christmas, and all the celebrations of it, are still dancing in my head! It is a day of quiet reflection, a warm, fuzzy day, as I think of a God made small enough for me. Small enough for me to wrap my heart and head around. How amazing is that?

Later today our close friends are coming to visit and our celebration of Christmas will continue. In fact, we have 12 days in which to enjoy Christmas with family and friends; to look for the ways in which the Word made flesh is transforming us.

There's got to be a morning after Christmas! Relish it! Enjoy the new possibilities it brings!

How Silently, How Silently

I'm up early this morning. Somehow can't sleep as images of Christmas dance in my head! It's the time in the season when I am pulling together all the details for church and home and, with heavenly help, hopefully remembering all I need to remember.

Interestingly enough, as I am piecing together in my mind the rehearsal for Christmas Eve that will take place later this morning, and, at the same time, going over my gift list to make certain that I have not forgotten any "special someones," a line from "O Little Town of Bethlehem" keeps playing in my head: "How silently, how silently, the wondrous gift is given!" As Pastor Phillip Brooks penned these words, was he experiencing the same Christmas "anxiety" that I am experiencing? Was he concerned that the details of Christmas for worship and home would be so loud that he, that we, might miss God's Christmas present?

"How silently, how silently, the wondrous gift is given!" In the midst of bombs blaring, soldiers and civilians dying, soldiers returning home, politicians posturing and losing sight of the human beings they are serving, a weakened global economy, unresolved health care concerns, churches struggling for life, God gives us the most amazing Christmas gift: One who restores the world to wholeness, the Prince of Peace!

How is it that we fail to receive it? Is the packaging too subtle? Should it have been wrapped in elegant paper and tied up with a gorgeous bow? Or in bright reds or greens with a candy cane adorning it? Are swaddling clothes too passe, too out of our experience, for us to even recognize the gift? Is God's gift, the baby wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger, doomed to be relegated to the nativity scene we have set up in our church or home?

"How silently, how silently, the wondrous gift is given!" These words won't let me go! As I finish up coordinating the details for Christmas in church and home, I sense they will be with me, reminding me, calling me, to have "eyes to see, ears to hear, and a heart to receive" God's Christmas present to me, to you, to the world:
"For unto us is born this day in the city of David, a Savior, who is Christ the Lord!"

What we do with the gift, once we receive it, is up to us. I'm hoping that I, that we, will unwrap the gift in 2012 and do with it something significant for the transformation of a world. I'm hoping that I, that we, do not leave it gathering dust on the shelf like that candy dish shaped like a chicken Mark and I received for our wedding almost 30 years ago, not wanting to get rid of it because someone went to the trouble of giving it to us; but never quite comfortable enough with it to use it. I'm hoping that we use it to make a difference in our homes, our city, our community, our nation, and our world.

For unto us is born!

What the MBTI and That Pesky Speck Have to Do with Each Other

This week Iwas reminded of two things that have been invaluable in my adult life: the Meyers-Briggs personality test and a verse from Jesus' Sermon on the Mount. Oddly enough, the same person was the reason for both of these coming to mind. He is a person I don't know very well; but hopefully, as time passes and trust builds, we will discover a way to respect and enjoy one another.

I am convinced that each of us has an achilles heel, a weakness of some sort that makes us vulnerable. It is my own particular achilles heel that led me to see the "speck" in someone's eye while failing to see the "log" in my own. As happens, when we judge someone else harshly, I reacted negatively, creating an obstacle in this new relationship we are trying to build. It's not the first time that I have rushed to judgment. As much as I would hope, it will probably not be the last time.

In an effort to try and understand why this happens, help came from an unexpected place: from the person I had judged hastily. He shared as to how he had recently taken the Meyers-Briggs personality test and talked about the results. All of a sudden, I was reminded of the test's helpfulness to me 30 years ago in coming to terms with my personality, with why I do the things I do, why I react in the ways I react.

With that thought in mind, I went home and took the MBTI online. It turns out that two of my letters have changed. While my basic personality has stayed the same, I am now an ENFJ, no longer an INFP. As I read what the overall personality traits of an ENFJ are, I understood why I rush to judgment when I feel hurt. I understood why my first reaction is to see the "speck" in someone elses eye while failing to see the "log" in my own. While this does not take me off the hook for my reaction, I know this is a natural part of me, a most vulnerable part. I understand that I am not a bad person. I am wonderfully made by God!

Why am I writing this? I think it is important that we own the vulnerabilities in our personalities, accept them for what they are, invite God to transform them, and then believe that has happened!

Children, Eggs, and an Easter Greeting

At the beginning of last week, or perhaps even the week before, I came across the idea (no, I don't know where it came from because I failed to make it a fav) to use when chatting with the Grace Church children in worship on Easter. The idea was that many centuries ago, in some church, people would bring a red egg to Easter worship. During worship, they would hand it to someone as they offered the greeting: "Christ is risen!" The recipient of the egg would then say: "Christ is risen indeed!"

Do you know how difficult it is to find a red Easter egg? Or to find red dye? Hmmm....I suspect we all know that has something to do with food and red dye; but that's another story for another day. Anyone who knows me knows that when an idea comes into my mind, I don't give up until I figure out a way to carry it out.

In the meantime, Jeff Blackwell, our Director of Community Building & Programming, had ordered items for the children's Easter egg hunt. One of the things he had ordered were Splat Eggs. They are clear and have what appears to be an egg yolk in them. They move all around, somewhat I'm told like an implant, and go "splat" when you throw them against a wall. But I am digressing...

I asked if I could use the eggs - so that solved the problem of whether or not I would use real eggs for the children. Jeff said "yes." And when I was in the craft store on Thursday, I found red pouches in which I could put the eggs. It seemed too perfect. All I needed to do was to figure out what to say to the children. If only it had been that easy.

On Saturday evening, as I attempted to put the eggs in the red bags, I discovered they would not fit -- too small. My wonderful husband volunteered to go to the craft store and try to get larger red bags. Alas, they had only white or ivory. I went with the white having read somewhere else online that people in churches had given out white and gold eggs on Easter.

I cannot tell you the fun I had during my time with the children on Easter Sunday. After introducing the Easter greeting to them, I shared that I was going to give each one of them an egg as I greeted them with "Christ is risen!" Their response was to be "Christ is risen indeed!" I went down the line of children (and parents), handing out eggs, offering the greeting, and receiving their response. Then I invited them to go on an egg hunt. I had hidden foam eggs in the Easter flowers around the empty tomb. They hurried over and found their egg. Then I asked them to go to someone in the congregation, hand them the egg, greeting them with "Christ is risen!" I asked the people who received them to respond with "Christ is risen indeed!" It was a joyous moment in our Easter celebration. It is a remnant of Easter which I hope we will all carry with us.

Christ is risen! Christ is risen! Indeed!

Christ is risen! Christ is risen! Indeed! I love Easter! I love the pageantry of Mary Magdalene coming to the tomb at sunrise; the image of the empty tomb; the angel wondering why Mary is weeping; the beautiful colors of spring flowers and the "left-over" palms forming the garden around the tomb where the risen Jesus first speaks. I love that he first speaks to a woman! Easter opens up all sorts of possibilities for us, our faith, our churches, our world!

As a pastor, I have always been moved to tears on Easter. In some way, it is akin to that watercolor or musical work or poem or play that is indescribable - there are no words to describe it - as it finds its way deep into the recesses of my heart and emotions, bringing a joy so incredible that all I can do is weep.

As I looked at the sun rising over the river yesterday morning during our Sunrise worship celebration at the Riverfront, as we were singing, "Christ the Lord is risen today, Alleluia," I experienced God anew! My response was to weep! Later, as I sang the Easter hymn The Day of Resurrection, with the organ and brass accompanying, again the tears flowed! The presence of the risen Christ was real in a new way.

"Now let the heavens be joyful! Let earth the song begin!
Let the round world keep triumph, and all that is there-in!
Let all things seen and unseen their notes in gladness blend,
for Christ the Lord hath risen, our joy that hath no end."

The sacred story of Easter moves me from tears of sorrow to tears of joy! The problem is that as I step away from Easter, while I am eager for the memory and meaning to linger, it often fades. Its vividness fades. Life becomes ordinary again. It occurs to me that, when life becomes ordinary, so does the way I live.

As Easter people, we are not called to be ordinary; we are called to be an extraordinary witness in an ordinary world. There is nothing ordinary about the good news of Easter: "Christ is risen! Christ is risen! Indeed!" This season of Easter, I am going to attempt to be an extraodinary witness, a person who exudes the joy and promise and possibility that comes from knowing the risen Christ! I sense this could get interesting!