Allowing for Different Responses

As fall progresses, most trees slowly turn from green to varying shades of red, orange, yellow or brown. The ginkgo tree works at turning yellow. But while other trees slowly drop their leaves throughout the season, the ginkgo tree is extremely subject to the weather. In a mild year, a ginkgo will gradually turn yellow, and begin to slowly drop leaves like other trees.



But then a frost comes some chilly night, whether it be October or December, every ginkgo leaf will be on the ground the next morning. The ginkgos object to the change of weather with every inch of their being, abruptly, and en masse. With inborn solidarity they stand bare the next morning in protest to this sudden drop in temperature.

The more gradual approach adopted by deciduous trees could cause them to look with disdain on the more temperamental ginkgos. But as trees all doing as their temperament has dictated, they seem to continue on their separate courses without shunning one another.

Humans also have various ways of responding to crises. Some, who are in a gradual state of response, are not swayed from their course in a moment. And yet others, often in solidarity with those of like mind, may protest in a much more dramatic fashion.

Perhaps like trees, we should allow one another these differences, rather than policing their responses of others. Be like a tree. Allow others to be different.

Last Call?

Today I attended a memorial for a godly servant of God, Ron Hill. I know Ron from Emmaus, his wife Betty was my sponsor. Her mom attended my church, so I’ve known them for 30+ years.

Family and friends crowded into the church pews with people standing in the back. Ron’s family, colleagues and pastor had no trouble sharing glowing eulogies of such a servant to the community. He had served as a volunteer fire fighter and EMT trainer, as well as multiple positions at his home church.

At the end, they issued his Last Call. In my decades of ministry and funerals I had not previously experienced this tradition. It dissolved me into a puddle of tears.

A uniformed fire fighter walked to the front of the church and turned on his dispatch radio. A clear voice summoned all the county responders to listen. Then she said, “Calling Crew Captain Ron Hill.” A deafening silence followed. She repeated the call a second time. Another earth shattering silence.

Then her voice returned saying, “Last call for Crew Captain Ron Hill. October 24, 2018. Rest In Peace.”

Reading these words cannot adequately portray the impact as they filled the sanctuary bursting with loved ones then the silence returned.

Last call for Ron’s earthly responsibility.

And yet another call had come, that voice of love, calling him home. A first call? Not really, because that Voice has called Ron many times, calling him to love Christ, calling him to serve in ways a dispatcher would never know. And yet not a last call either, for the conversation between Ron and the voice of his Savior will continue. Ron had been listening to those calls for years and following those instructions.

And so when this call came, he answered. And now lives in the Presence of God which requires no dispatch or mediator.

Yes, Ron, as the dispatcher said, Rest In Peace. Enter into the joy of your true Master.

Politics Isn't Perfection

 Years ago our family visited Sequoia National Park and viewed the giant redwoods there, so wide.
This month we walked through Muir Woods National Monument, showcasing coastal redwoods, think: TALL.

While there we heard an amazing Ranger talk from Ranger Dan, and I've heard a lot over the years, about the founding of Muir Woods. This forest has never been milled, chiefly because of its location and geography, a large hill making it hard for primitive wagon transport to carry out trees. Natural limits protected it for centuries.

In 1905 William Kent spent $45,000, the equivalent of 1.26 million today, to purchase this forest and conserve its beauty. His wife Elizabeth Thatcher Kent, a committed suffragist, was not convinced the effort was worthwhile. He said it was worth his entire fortune to preserve.

The following year San Francisco suffered an earthquake and fire which destroyed the majority of the city. In their efforts to rebuild, the huge trees so close by seemed the perfect solution. The city sued Kent via eminent domain to take the land. Kent sees that he can’t win this fight, so he gives the land to the federal government. Teddy Roosevelt makes the space national monument. A national park designation requires the approval of Congress, but a president can create a national monument. The woods are saved!

Roosevelt wanted to name the space Kent Woods. I've never heard of this man, but he certainly deserved these woods he fought single-handedly to preserve to be named after him. However Kent insisted the woods be named after his friend John Muir, the father of the conservation movement. He thought it improper to name it after himself, as if he were purchasing a legacy for himself. So his name slides into obscurity, except when park visitors stop to listen to Ranger Dan.

Here's the twist in the story. William Kent ran for political office on an anti-immigration stand. For many people today, someone so pro-environment would attract their vote, but they would be put off by his stand against immigration. Others would want to vote for his anti-immigration stand, but be frustrated that he championed public lands and conservation.

Years later in 1945 when the United Nations delegation met in the United States to organize, they visited Muir Woods.  They honored the memory of Frankin Roosevelt, who had died a month before, and who believed that the principles of conserving natural resources contributed to world peace.

Few politicians agree fully with our preferences, we have to make hard choices. I am grateful for the
choices William Kent made to preserve such a beautiful place as Muir Woods, where the very air breathes peace.

Stuck in the Middle

Part of my calling in life lies in diplomacy. I often find myself in the middle of situations, sometimes between individuals, sometimes in an organization, or some combination thereof. Typically I have a personal opinion about who seems more in the right or wrong, but I also see both sides of the situation, even if I don't agree.

In personal situations this can cause some real angst, especially when called upon to support one or the other exclusively. But what I have learned from this is that even when we don't agree with someone, it is possible to at least see their side and understand their point of view.

Having that kind of empathy helps us to humanize those we cannot agree with. We can love and admire people who we distinctly disagree with on every basic opinion imaginable. We can respect people who have a different viewpoint, even if we cannot honor their choices.

Imagine how God must feel. We pray sometimes silly prayers for a basketball game as if we expect God to play favorites over who wins. But even with more grave matters, we as believers often pray at cross purposes from our brothers and sisters, an extreme example being any civil war throughout the centuries. Yet God sees the whole picture, knows what is best for all, and acts accordingly, which will suit someone's but not everyone's prayers.

Perhaps the best advantage of being stuck in the middle lies in being able to pray for both sides with honest neutrality, and trusting God will do what's best.

Our country once again faces an election. Good people will vote for both "sides." I have my own opinions about how that should turn out. I hope that people can see the other side. And I hope people find it worth voting, to at least participate in this civic duty. It's a simple action that gives us agency. And praying helps too, even if God has a whole other idea than we can imagine.

Anger?

Recently I've been in conversations about anger, it is acceptable for Christians? Is it sinful, or as Ephesians 4:26-27 puts it:  “In your anger do not sin”: Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry,  and do not give the devil a foothold. Can we be angry and not be sinning?

When you read the Old Testament, you find passages like this one (CEB): Get up, Lord; get angry! Stand up against the fury of my foes! Wake up, my God; you command that justice be done! God is a righteous judge, a God who is angry at evil every single day. Psalm 7:6,11

If God is angry at evil, surely we should be.


Here's what we easily agree on. As Ephesians reminds us, anger can lead to sin. We sin when we hurt others through our anger, certainly physically through violence, and even with our cruel words. When we yell insults at people, even those we love, the pain inflicted doesn't fully heal, even if it scabs over. We can apologize, but the truth hurts, and we didn't call someone lazy or conceited if we didn't in some sense mean it. Anger doesn't make us call skinny people fat, or tall people short. It brings out ugly realities that when we are calm we know are better left unspoken. These expressions of anger remain wrong, and Christians should avoid them, and seek forgiveness and restoration when we mess up.

True in interpersonal relationships, the same holds true in nonpersonal relationships, so yelling epithets at strangers we don't agree with, or calling them names on Facebook, qualifies as sin.

But what about righteous anger? If God is angry at evil, how about us? How do we do that and not sin?

We shouldn't get personal and call people mean names. But can we raise our voice? Is yelling an option? To answer that, we have to realize that such responses are personality and culturally driven. Some people are yellers. Just raising your voice does not mean sinning. Think of preaching in the black church, which often happens at much higher decibels than in white churches. So too responses to injustice can happen at a raised pitch and not be sinful.

In the classic work by Thomas Kochman, Black and White Styles in Conflict, the author explains the level of discomfort white people experience when witnessing black people in an argument. He clarifies that typically as long at the two people do not touch each other, violence is not intended, and no one need show concern. The argument carries on at a louder volume than a typical white argument while still being civil and safe. (Of course personality differences exist in every culture, so not all black people raise their voices in arguments.)

We need to bear caution in assuming the intent of the people involved in an argument. In addition, people who have typically been in the majority should make room for protest in those who have been oppressed. Martin Luther King, Jr. said riots are the language of the unheard. So it is easy for white people or others in power to condemn what seems a sinful expression of anger, while not understanding the level of frustration that would lead to such a response. When quiet talk brings no results, then what?

Another often mentioned reality equates anger with sadness, that anger happens when sadness turns outward. As such, anger can be a necessary response to life situations. Anger forms a necessary stage of grief, which can apply not just to the loss of a loved one, but also to the loss of anything important, a job, the power to choose, an apartment. Much of what becomes political action stems from loss, the loss of the right to vote, the right to stay in this country, the right to exist unassaulted by the police. These losses understandably lead to anger.

When we witness others expressing anger, and perhaps we think even verging on a sinful expression, listening can be our first response. Condemning their actions could easily escalate the situation, instead of becoming a safe place to share.

Robin D’Angelo states, “The history of extensive and brutal violence perpetrated by whites; slavery, genocide, lynching, whipping, forced sterilization, and medical experimentation, to name a few, is trivialized when we claim we don’t feel safe or are under attack when in the rare situation of merely talking about race with people of color.” Not feeling safe just listening to someone pales compared to what they may have experienced that they are trying to share.

When I attended a local rally for Families Belong Together, protesting the separation of children at the border, I listened to the speakers with tears rolling down my cheeks. This connected for me in a dramatic and up close fashion the relationship between sadness and anger. The atrocities being committed in these days make me cry. But sadness leads to depression and inactivity. We often retreat in desperation.

When we turn that sadness into righteous anger, we act. A passion for justice has driven me most of my life. That passion keeps me motivated to help, not just to march or write letters, but to help actual people in need. That matters. That's a response worthy of righteous anger.

I would imagine as Psalm 7 says, God is angry at evil every day, for evil abounds. Like God that's the anger I want to tap into, what makes God angry should motivate me. I don't want to step into hurtful practices in my anger. But I also want to avoid judging other peoples' responses, for I know not what they bear in their hearts. May God guide us all to act and make a difference.

Anger?

Recently I've been in conversations about anger, it is acceptable for Christians? Is it sinful, or as Ephesians 4:26-27 puts it:  “In your anger do not sin”: Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry,  and do not give the devil a foothold. Can we be angry and not be sinning?

When you read the Old Testament, you find passages like this one (CEB): Get up, Lord; get angry! Stand up against the fury of my foes! Wake up, my God; you command that justice be done! God is a righteous judge, a God who is angry at evil every single day. Psalm 7:6,11

If God is angry at evil, surely we should be. 

Here's what we easily agree on. As Ephesians reminds us, anger can lead to sin. We sin when we hurt others through our anger, certainly physically through violence, and even with our cruel words. When we yell insults at people, even those we love, the pain inflicted doesn't fully heal, even if it scabs over. We can apologize, but the truth hurts, and we didn't call someone lazy or conceited if we didn't in some sense mean it. Anger doesn't make us call skinny people fat, or tall people short. It brings out ugly realities that when we are calm we know are better left unspoken. These expressions of anger remain wrong, and Christians should avoid them, and seek forgiveness and restoration when we mess up.

True in interpersonal relationships, the same holds true in nonpersonal relationships, so yelling epithets at strangers we don't agree with, or calling them names on Facebook, qualifies as sin.


But what about righteous anger? If God is angry at evil, how about us? How do we do that and not sin?

We shouldn't get personal and call people mean names. But can we raise our voice? Is yelling an option? To answer that, we have to realize that such responses are personality and culturally driven. Some people are yellers. Just raising your voice does not mean sinning. Think of preaching in the black church, which often happens at much higher decibels than in white churches. So too responses to injustice can happen at a raised pitch and not be sinful.

In the classic work by Thomas Kochman, Black and White Styles in Conflict, the author explains the level of discomfort white people experience when witnessing black people in an argument. He clarifies that typically as long at the two people do not touch each other, violence is not intended, and no one need show concern. The argument carries on at a louder volume than a typical white argument while still being civil and safe. (Of course personality differences exist in every culture, so not all black people raise their voices in arguments.)

We need to bear caution in assuming the intent of the people involved in an argument. In addition, people who have typically been in the majority should make room for protest in those who have been oppressed. Martin Luther King, Jr. said riots are the language of the unheard. So it is easy for white people or others in power to condemn what seems a sinful expression of anger, while not understanding the level of frustration that would lead to such a response. When quiet talk brings no results, then what?

Another often mentioned reality equates anger with sadness, that anger happens when sadness turns outward. As such, anger can be a necessary response to life situations. Anger forms a necessary stage of grief, which can apply not just to the loss of a loved one, but also to the loss of anything important, a job, the power to choose, an apartment. Much of what becomes political action stems from loss, the loss of the right to vote, the right to stay in this country, the right to exist unassaulted by the police. These losses understandably lead to anger.

When we witness others expressing anger, and perhaps we think even verging on a sinful expression, listening can be our first response. Condemning their actions could easily escalate the situation, instead of becoming a safe place to share. 

Robin D’Angelo states, “The history of extensive and brutal violence perpetrated by whites; slavery, genocide, lynching, whipping, forced sterilization, and medical experimentation, to name a few, is trivialized when we claim we don’t feel safe or are under attack when in the rare situation of merely talking about race with people of color.” Not feeling safe just listening to someone pales compared to what they may have experienced that they are trying to share.

When I attended a local rally for Families Belong Together, protesting the separation of children at the border, I listened to the speakers with tears rolling down my cheeks. This connected for me in a dramatic and up close fashion the relationship between sadness and anger. The atrocities being committed in these days make me cry. But sadness leads to depression and inactivity. We often retreat in desperation.

When we turn that sadness into righteous anger, we act. A passion for justice has driven me most of my life. That passion keeps me motivated to help, not just to march or write letters, but to help actual people in need. That matters. That's a response worthy of righteous anger. 

I would imagine as Psalm 7 says, God is angry at evil every day, for evil abounds. Like God that's the anger I want to tap into, what makes God angry should motivate me. I don't want to step into hurtful practices in my anger. But I also want to avoid judging other peoples' responses, for I know not what they bear in their hearts. May God guide us all to act and make a difference.

Some Thoughts on Moms

Yesterday I enjoyed all the mom posts. People happy to be moms. People praising their moms. And reminders that Mother's Day is not great for everyone.

Two things on my heart today. Some people put on a public front and tell everyone what a good mom they have out of respect, which they should, we are to honor our parents. But inside they have a big hole that should have been filled with parental approval, instead it holds shame.Where confidence and acceptance should blossom, a gaping wound sucks the life out of their soul. 

What they needed growing up lie in simple encouragement, that pat on the back, that, "Keep it up! I can see you're doing your best." That moment of, "OK, so it didn't turn out the way you wanted, you'll figure it out. I believe in you." And that, "Wow! You're amazing! I'm so proud of you."

Instead, many people hear words like, "What? You got a B?" or "You came in second??" or "I was so embarrassed by your behavior." Critiques of clothing, vocabulary, effort, sports success, grades, church behavior, you name it, some parents always have a complaint.

Healthy parents do critique their children. They do guide them when they mess up. They do remind them of the standards they are expecting. They do encourage them to aim high. But they don't shame them, especially when the standard is the parent's, not the child's.

Those folks grow up, and become parents themselves. And then what happens? As the old adage goes, the same fire that melts the butter hardens the egg. Some folks with a lack of positive example, behave the same way, and pass along all the guilt and shame, and especially if abuse existed in their home. If that's you, get help!

Others, rise to the occasion, determine not to be that parent, and figure out how to do better. They won't be perfect, but they offer encouragement not criticism, they make suggestions instead of demanding perfection, they hold up standards but still love and accept their children when they fall short.

My mom wasn't perfect. She was weak and sometimes I had to parent her, but she loved me and showed me that in many ways. She was kind and encouraging. I knew she was rooting for me, no matter what. Having this from both parents gave me a basic belief in myself, that I could build on for my children.

Second thing, parents matter. We see it in ourselves. And if we have our own kids, we need to believe that. We need to remember that how we treat them affects who they grow up to be. God made each of us unique and gifted, and the more we encourage our children, the more they will grow into that miracle creation God intended.

So if you didn't have that example, and you need help, look for it. That's what churches are for, and books on parenting, and even classes. Get support. Those of you out there doing a great job without having had that example, you rock!

And if your children are still small, and you spend your days just trying to keep diapers changed, or if your kids are older and you're trying to stand up to the constant pressure to lower your standards and let them do what "everyone else is doing," hold on! A day will come when they will rise up and call you blessed! They will actually express their gratitude that you kept those standards, and helped them reach their potential.

Most of all, you can never love someone too much, a parent or a child. We can overindulge people with material needs, or look the other way during bad behavior which both cause problems. But our encouragement and kindness cannot possibly be overdone.

So call your mom if you still have one you can call, and say thanks, even if it was rough growing up, for we are to honor our parents. And if you have kids, hug them and hold on. The day will come you'll see the fruit of your labor. Those Mother's Day posts will be about you, and they won't be fake. Be sure to grab a tissue.

My Easter Miracle

Lent aims to provide a space for reflection on the sacrifice and death of Jesus. These weeks prepare us for the full triumph and victory of Easter.

This year my Lent involved a deepened solidarity with suffering. My foot required minor surgery, and although the out patient procedure passed quickly, the recovery did not. Unlike others who found recuperation a minor setback of a week or maybe two, for the next four weeks I could not walk. Two weeks in I tried hobbling around for the weekend, a time frame that most estimates proposed reasonable. That Sunday night I lay in bed trying to sleep with pain throbbing in my foot and wishing I hadn't left my hated yet beloved crutches downstairs.

I returned to my crutches or the knee scooter a friend loaned me, but would still lie in bed each night waiting for the pain to subside and let me sleep. Unlike the sharp pain initially or of the original problem, this felt like pressure, as if someone held my foot and wouldn't let go, squeezing like a pinch between finger and thumb.

During these weeks I kept thinking of those who don't recover, whose surgeries fail, or who even despite an effort at treatment continue to worsen, those for whom time instead of bringing healing continues a downhill march. Crutching to the bathroom in the middle of the night I reminded myself this temporary problem already allowed more independence than those paralyzed.

The fourth weekend I had returned from a trip and found the pain as bad as ever. That Palm Sunday I again preached from a chair, as I had for four weeks. I normally stand in front of the pulpit to preach, close to the people. I told God I would really like to stand to preach on Easter. At that moment such a result seemed unlikely, as slow as my progress had been, that seemed too much for just one week to bring. I also wished I could wear shoes and not my bedroom slipper, but that came from vanity, not purpose.

On Tuesday I began to hobble on my heel. Thursday for the first time I squeezed into a loose clog, not an Easter shoe, but not a house slipper at least.

On this Good Friday I am calling my progress my Easter Miracle. I will stand and preach on Easter, even if my shoes are not white dress shoes. A week ago I didn't really think this was possible, but with God all things are possible. Perhaps it seems ordinary, my foot had to improve at some point. But for me, and how I experienced it, and the trajectory of my healing to this point, it will always be my Easter Miracle.

I pray God steps into your brokenness on this Good Friday and in the days to come and brings resurrection power to bear on your pain. For truly, Christ lives, and that changes everything.

Walking is Underrated

Having a one year old granddaughter I have recently witnessed the advent of walking in a child. She stood, wavering, falling. She soon took a step or two. Later a streak of steps, weaving left and right, before again falling. At first she required an object to pull up on to stand and begin, then later developed the ability to stand from the floor. Her walking at 13 months still wavers on uneven ground, and falling still happens frequently, although she gains speed daily.

When babies learn to walk, we expect such stops and starts. Once we have mastered it, we never think about it. This morning as you awakened, you didn't think about putting your feet on the floor and heading off to the bathroom or wherever you start your day.

Walking is underrated and underappreciated. Until you can't walk.

Two weeks ago before writing this I underwent a foot surgery, a minor out patient procedure to remove a neuroma (a benign tumor) from the ball of my foot. The presence of the neuroma had caused pain while walking for about and year and a half, and to maintain a healthy walking habit, needed to be excised. And in come the crutches.

A few years ago I severely sprained my ankle and required a season of crutching, which I abhorred. My son can travel on crutches and keep up with anyone, even on stairs. I have a stair phobia from falling down a staircase at church as a child and gaining a black eye, so I'm not about to do a staircase on crutches. I scoot down and up on my bottom. So elegant.

Having to crutch to the bathroom in the middle of the night, when I often weave on two good feet, and negotiate all that with one foot, makes me long for healing, yesterday even. So when I was able to again put some weight on my recovering heel, I did so. Finally! No crutches!

After a weekend of that, I returned to my crutches, as the foot pain wouldn't let me sleep. More healing needed, and more patience.

During this season of restriction, I have reminded myself that some people never heal. They live permanently in a wheelchair or have prosthetic limbs. Some folks older and weaker than me can't use crutches for a minor recovery. For some people, the fullness of healing and easy movement won't return until heaven's final healing.

I want to keep my eyes open for those around me battling various obstacles to their daily travel, perhaps I can open a door or at least smile some encouragement. Walking can be more than just physical as well, some folks struggle to progress in other ways, spiritual, developmental, patience can be needed from the rest of us to encourage the strugglers to not give up.

One of my favorite gospel moments happens when the four friends lower the paralyzed man through the roof to get Jesus' attention. Jesus doesn't immediately heal him. It's so obvious they expected this for their friend. But instead Jesus forgives him, clearly more important for the man than walking. To prove he could forgive sins, Jesus tells the man to stand up and walk. No crutches needed, no mat, no friends to carry him, imagine! But the greater gift that day lie in the forgiveness.

So too despite whatever we or others face physically, the greater challenge lies in spiritual wholeness. Even if we can't get out of bed or off that stretcher, our hearts can be healed and cleansed. That's what mattered to Jesus.