Archive for the ‘Love’ Category

Holding the Line

October 21, 2017

Thanks to Blake for sharing this timely and helpful article on the value of Christian sexual ethics as opposed to the sexual licentiousness our culture has adopted not only as inevitable but actually admirable.

If sex is the unspoken possibility any time two people of any gender are in contact with each other, the possibility for problems to arise is incredibly high.  Only in the movies and on TV is unrestrained sexual indulgence something wonderful and easy – free of the fear of STDs, unexpected pregnancy and emotional entanglement.  To sexualize every potential encounter and relationship in our lives is unhealthy not just to those who want to act on that possibility, but those who don’t want to, but have to be on guard all the same.

Being prudent, wise, aware – these are all good and admirable traits that have been highlighted and honored in cultures around the world and throughout history.  But now they are decried as restrictive and unnecessary and unwanted.  We should be free to indulge ourselves in any way we desire, to any extent we desire, without any worry about consequences of any kind.  Such a demand might be appropriate to a utopian society, but in case people haven’t looked outside the window recently (or into their own hearts), we don’t live in a utopian society.  Not by a long shot.

I wish my kids didn’t have to worry about predatory sexual behavior as they enter their teen years and adulthood.  And by predatory I don’t mean illegal, but rather the predatory assumption being drilled into both girls and boys that sex is wonderful and good and fine wherever and whenever and pretty much with whomever you like, so long as you both agree.  Whatever agree means.  It seems clear that agreement will only mean agreement if you still agree after the fact, which of course often is not the case for a variety of reasons.  It’s easy to read coercion or intimidation backwards into a situation once you’ve decided you’re not happy with the decisions you made.

So my kids are entering a world where sex will be assumed or expected with and from them as they begin dating.  My sons will face this as well as my daughter.  We’ve  taught them the inappropriateness and danger of this, provided rational explanations for why it isn’t a healthy way to live, both for themselves and those they meet.  We’ve tried to model and describe a Biblical sexual ethic that holds sexuality to be far more valuable than our society pretends to think it is.  But they’re still going to encounter those expectations.  As such, they’re going to have to conduct themselves in such a way as to enable them to live consistently with their morals and beliefs.  Part of this means being modest – both my sons and my daughter – and there’s no harm in that.  It only makes sense in a sinful world where things get misinterpreted all too easily.

People may want to laugh off Biblical sexual morality as antiquated and outdated, but compared to the massive harm inflicted on people in an open sexual culture, antiquated and outdated should start looking better than it has in a long time.

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Making Up Is Hard to Do

October 2, 2017

You see it on social media all the time.  Those pithy little encouraging quotes about how you should just ditch anybody in your life that disagrees with you about anything because you don’t need that kind of negativity in your life.  Life should be an unending stream of positive affirmations and warm fuzzies, and if anybody doesn’t fit that mold, you don’t need them.

Yet the Bible calls us to a fundamentally different understanding of life and people, radically re-oriented not around ourselves but around a man who lived and died and came back to life 2000 years ago.  In professing faith in that series of events and the reality that He did those things for us, we give our lives over in obedience to him and what He tells us about how to live.  We no longer get to define our life by how warm and fuzzy and affirming it is, because our Lord warns us that “If the world hates you, know that it has hated me before you” (John 15:18).  And we no longer get to simply throw people out of our lives when they do or say something we don’t agree with because our Lord commands us “If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone.  If he listens to you, you have gained your brother” (Matthew 18:15).

But this is really, really, really hard work.  Supernaturally hard, I would argue, and possible only by the grace of God (whether the people involved are aware of this or not).  And last night at Happy Hour, we got to see and participate in such a miracle.

Two of the young men who come on Sunday nights hit it off badly when they first met a couple of months ago.  Unfortunately, the friction of that first meeting has lingered and in the last two weeks has erupted into very angry comments from one of them towards the other.  I wasn’t there last week to see it, but fortunately I was there last night to see it as it unfolded.  And more blessedly, I wasn’t the only one.  With the help of a couple of other people and by the grace and wisdom of God the Holy Spirit, we were able to begin interjecting ourselves into the situation in order to shift it from an angry outburst into an opportunity for personal sharing and learning about the parties involved.

This went on for at least an hour.  It seemed like six hours!  Each of the two had a chance to share about themselves and one another.  They sought input from the three of us as to what we saw and heard going on.  We discussed possible reasons for the way these two rubbed each other the wrong way.  They hugged and affirmed their love for one another, exhibiting a mutual commitment to learning how to deal with one another.  By the time everyone left just before midnight, I was exhausted, but also excited.  The group had accomplished something important together, and I think that God was glorified in that process.

I’m sure that things will still be strained.  The two people involved operate very differently.  But we can now work with them as necessary to call them back to last evening and their commitment to one another.  I look forward to seeing how the coming weeks play out in their interactions.  Awkward, undoubtedly, but hopefully improving over time!

Authentic Community?

August 6, 2017

I’ve shared a bit about how I’ve struggled, internally, with the concept of Christian community.  More accurately, I’ve struggled with how other people might want to define Christian community.  What makes it valid, legitimate, authentic?  There are no shortage of answers to those questions.  I’m sure that some folks would define Christian community as centered in worship, but then that begs the question of how is worship defined?  Is worship always and only defined as the Divine Service of Sunday mornings?  Is worship only where the Word or Sacraments are explicitly presented, or can these form the backdrop, the living context in which human beings are gathered?  Does Christian community only exist when acts of service are performed?  But how do we define acts of service?  Is it only reaching out to the socially or economically marginalized?  Or does it involve nursing and nurturing people through heartbreak, through disappointment, into joy?

Perhaps the confusion isn’t the nature of community so much as the nature of ministry.  If a congregation supports an outreach, a ministry to a group of people, what does this mean?  Are there explicit or implicit assumptions and expectations?  Is that outreach only valid when a certain set of criteria are met?  Or is just loving people and being together enough?

It seems that in most church-sponsored ministry, something gets done.  What if there are no tangible outcomes?  No quilts made?  No bags for the homeless stuffed?  No meals prepared?  No funds raised?  Not that any of these things are bad, of course!  It’s wonderful that God’s people are motivated to show love in so many ways!  But is such a tangible outcome the only criteria for a ministry?

As pastor I feel an obligation – a reasonable one – to be a good steward of my community’s resources.  Certainly those resources that are allocated to my work in various ministries.  Perhaps that’s what makes me most uncomfortable, the worry that some might view a ministry as pointless or irrelevant – ultimately as a bad investment for not meeting certain expectations.  On the other hand, I also feel it’s important to model what I believe the life of faith looks like.  Imperfectly, to be sure.  But intentionally as much as I can.

There are various ministries described in the Bible, but the command is ultimately to love our neighbor and to love our God.  That means I need to be comfortable – and encourage others to be comfortable – simply in loving one another.  When opportunity and interest present themselves to be of tangible service in some way, wonderful!  But love is often intangible, expressed in word and presence rather than in product.  Much like our Lord comes to us in worship – in Word and Sacrament, promising us that the Holy Spirit within us has drawn us into community.  His community.  Not based on what we do but who we are in faith.

So I have to trust that it’s enough to just gather, with gathering being the main point.  Joy in one another and the peculiar vibe created around family and friends, food and drink.  The simple enjoyment of the Lord’s good gifts on so many levels.  It isn’t always easy.  It’s definitely work (at least being the hosts and preparing for the gathering each week!).  But it’s work I enjoy and look forward to, never knowing quite what is going to happen, who is going to be there, and how we will be blessed through and in it.  But never doubting that we have been blessed in it, that we are, and that we will continue to be.

Mercy Killing?

June 30, 2017

The Western world grapples with the fear of suffering.  Not simply our own, actual suffering, but the suffering of others and our own hypothetical suffering.  The idea of having to suffer offends our sensibilities.  There is no purpose to it.  And so we demand that we have the option to opt-out of suffering and along with that we demand the right to opt other people out of their suffering so that we don’t have to suffer along with them.

We term this mercy.

Here is what mercy now can look like.  Parents of a child born with congenital health issues for which there is no cure or treatment are being told that the government has decided to end their child’s life – in the best interest of the child.  Despite the fact that the parents do not want their child to die.  Despite the fact that there is experimental treatment available out of the country that could change the conditions for which the child is being sentenced to death.  Not only this, but now that their appeals for out-of-country treatment have been denied, the parents are also being denied the right to have their own child die in their own home, rather than in a hospital.

I’m still trying to see where the mercy is involved in all of this.  Perhaps because I don’t suspect that mercy is really what is being demonstrated.  Efficiency.  Expediency.  A rigorous attention to detail, the rule of law.  Bureaucratic policy.  But not mercy.

This is happening in Great Britain.  The country, as one observer notes, that fought against the Nazi’s and their insistence that some lives (other people, more specifically) were not worth living and therefore the government could decide to end those lives.  This is where we end up without a moral compass or baseline, without anything that limits our ability or tendency to define and redefine even such beautiful words as mercy until they mean the very opposite of why we find them beautiful.

This redefinition is evil.  It is evil because it reduces humanity to a matter of expediency and personal preferences, carefully sanitized in legalese and policy-speak.  It is evil because it holds the dictates of a human being or institution as ultimate and final, without recognizing that such beings and institutions are inherently unable to provide a single, permanent baseline from which to operate.  So the decisions made today may be completely opposite the decisions that would have been made 50 years ago, or the decisions that might be made 50 years hence.

We (Christians) are being inculcated to sympathy with this evil.  I find the seeds of it even in myself, despite being older and less prone to direct means of subversion and brain-washing (like schools).  We are being wooed towards sympathy because of our own fears and hopes and wishes.

Yesterday I visited one of our long-time members who is homebound.  She has been homebound for the past seven years, by and large.  Over those years I have brought her Communion and led us in simple worship together.  She is an amazing woman.  Her mind is sharp, her will is formidable, she is articulate, cultured, and refined, and she has a zest for life that would be admirable in a person a quarter her age.

When I saw her two weeks ago she was having a good day.  We shared Communion and prayer.  I could see much of her through her condition.  When I went yesterday, however, it was a bad day, and I could see so very, very little of the woman she is.  She was fearful, her words slurred and at times indecipherable.  Her fear was palpable and audible, her weakness striking.  She didn’t know who I was, or who the woman caring for her was, or where she was.  She begged to go home while sitting in her own living room of 50 years.

I left asking God why He didn’t take her yet.  She has been ready to go for years.  Her faith is strong, but her mind and body have been subverted and twisted by time.  What point is there in having her linger, I wondered.  I even flirted with the thought that perhaps God was being unkind to her in this.  She deserves to die.  It would be a blessing to her.  It would be merciful.

Merciful to whom, I suddenly thought.  Perhaps it would be merciful to me, so that I didn’t need to keep going to see her.  Merciful to me so that I wasn’t made uncomfortable by her condition and deterioration, fearful that I might one day be in her place.  Merciful to me in that I wouldn’t have to accommodate myself to her limitations, and that I could leave feeling happy and care-free, to go about my daily routine and duties, rather than struggling with mortality and the damnable reality of sin and death that lurks within my own frame.

She is still herself.  She isn’t less herself, or less of a human being, than she was two years ago or twenty years ago or eighty years ago.  She is entitled to all the same love and care and concern.  Is it harder to be with her?  Yes.  Which is perhaps why it is all the more important to be with her.  To come to grips with the effects of sin in our lives.  To seek to love her consistently and care for her consistently, rather than simply deciding that at some arbitrary point or in some arbitrary state of mind or body, she is no longer herself, no longer deserving of the life that God himself has given and sustained her in.  Perhaps part of the blessing of suffering is that we learn to see past and through these things, both in ourselves and others.

She is not defined by her dementia.  She is not defined by her physical frailty.  She is not defined by her suffering, and neither she nor I have the right to redefine her as such and cease to see her for what she is.  Beautiful.  Alive by the grace and wisdom of God.  And therefore an opportunity to love and practice mercy with in the truest and best sense of that word, rather than the senseless way our culture wants to redefine it.  Perhaps as I continue to care for her in this way, it will better prepare me to care for others in similar conditions, and will further prepare me – inasmuch as may be possible – for me to endure that condition should it become my own one day.

Mercy, like hope, isn’t necessarily expedient.   But we are in a dangerous place without either.

 

Groovin’

June 3, 2016

This is a great little article that examines the results of a rather informal survey of the songs people play at their wedding receptions.  The author’s theory to explain the distribution of music by style and age – and which makes sense to me – is that the various generations present at a wedding – the couple, their parents and grandparents – each have at least a few songs that represent music popular in their late teens or early 20’s, with the remainder of the set list made up of current hits.  Music that is popular today and high on play lists today may fall off for some time, only to reappear in 20-30 years on play lists as the children of the couples getting married today start getting married.

What music did you have to have at your wedding?  What music was forbidden?  What sort of overlap do you see with the data in this article?  And yes, you certainly can justify including ABBA at your wedding reception.

 

Sunday Is Coming

December 25, 2015

I don’t know about you, but right about now, or more accurately, in a few minutes from now, is my favorite time of the entire Christmas season. The moment when I can breathe a sigh of relief. Good or bad, right or wrong, brilliant or mundane, I will have survived Christmas. I will have discharged my duties as your pastor. You might think I did great or awful, but it will be too late to change any of that. You might be seething or dumbfounded or in shocked, pained silence, but I’ll be smiling on the inside anticipating watching my family open presents, enjoying a Christmas nap, and relaxing the rest of the day. It’s the same sort of feeling I get most every Sunday just as the sermon wraps up. Assuming I haven’t preached heresy and nobody has died mid-sermon, I can relax. It’s the most relaxing time of the week for me.

My seminary homiletices (preaching) professor was fond of saying repeatedly through the course Sunday is coming. Three little words that strike terror into most pastors’ hearts. For Sunday is of course a day of holy obligations. Of bringing God’s Word to God’s people. Of leading and guiding people through the rituals of worship that the people of God have engaged in for two millenia. The responsibility of exercising publicly the private rights of a particular group of followers of Jesus the Messiah. As such, it is a day, or at least a morning, fraught with responsibility, privilege, honor.

Sunday is coming. And the words of that prof ring in my ears more than a decade later. They weren’t said as a threat, necessarily. Simply a reminder. A reminder that once we were out in the parish we wouldn’t have 20 hours a week to spend researching and writing our sermons. In the real world we would have obligations. The resposibility, the privilege, the honor of shepherding God’s people. That would take time, as it should. But whether the week was filled with appointments, hospital visits, calls on the homebound, administrative duties, fixing the church plumbing, and cooking for the men’s breakfast Bible study, Sunday is coming.

While most of you have never given a sermon you understand this feeling of joy and dread, fear and awe, because for every single one of you, year after year, Christmas is coming. Played out on a larger calendar, you deal with the same thing that pastors do week after week. The resolutions to be more organized next year. To start the shopping early. To buy the Christmas cards when they’re pennies on the dollar the week after Christmas. To hit the home décor shops on Christmas 28th and scoop up all those gorgeous little decorative Christmas doo-dads when they’re 80% off. The resolution to finish the Christmas shopping in July, to get the Christmas cards out Thanksgiving weekend, to have gifts in the mail by the first weekend in December. Next year will be different, better. Next year you’ll be able to relax and really enjoy the meaning of the season. Next year you’ll decline some of those Christmas parties. Next year you won’t cave in to the pressure to present a Norman Rockwell-esque Christmas Eve dinner while still attending both the grandkids’ Christmas performance and the candlelight service later. Next year you’ll have lost 15 pounds and fit back into that outfit you love so much.

It’s a warm afterglow that first week of Christmas. And then the next thing you know it’s December 1 again and you haven’t done anything the way you vowed. Everything has to get done, everywhere is crowded and crabby, prices are jacked sky high, the family won’t commit on when they’re going to come – if at all – for Christmas, you’ve lost your address book and gained 5 pounds. None of which really matters, because Christmas is coming.

Every year this reality stares us in the face. Every year we feel unprepared, and every year Christmas arrives regardless. Memories are made and shared. Photos are snapped. Christmas hams are kept away from eager dogs. Babies get fed and wrapping paper gets cleaned up and stockings get filled and bicycles get put together regardless of missing three screws and the directions being written only in Korean. Every year we sit crumpled on the couch afterwards listening to the sounds of laughter or the sounds of silence, amazed that, regardless of how ready we weren’t, Christmas arrived anyways.

This is God’s gift to us each year and each week. Christmas is coming. Sunday is coming. And you and I being sinful and broken and pretty self-absorbed, we hear that as a call to arms, a call to man the battlements and prepare ourselves. To provision the larder and ensure that there’s enough brandy and eggnog for Aunt Karen. We hear it as the nails -on-the -chalkboard whispers of Satan telling us it’s all on me. I have to get it right. I have to pull it together. If I’m not ready it will be a fiasco so epic that my great-great-great-grandkids will walk by the still-smoking crater of what used to be our home and whisper about the year they failed Christmas. Christmas is coming. Sunday is coming. As a gift.  But Satan wants to steal this present off of our front porch like one of those people who steals UPS packages this time of year, and leave us instead with a flaming paper bag of steamy, stinky guilt that we try desperately to stamp out only to find out that our shoes are covered with it and we can’t get it off.

But today is a gift, not an obligation. It’s a present from God not a responsibility to shoulder. And it arrives whether we’re ready or not. Whether we’re happy with how we look or feel, or how the person next to us looks or feels. It arrives not because we caused it or created it or deserved it, but only and always because our God loves us and cares for us and desires to give us good things.

He gives us the best thing He can give us – his Son. Our Savior. Sure, the present isn’t wrapped very well by our aesthetic sensibilities. We might have preferred something a bit more sparkly, a few more bows on it. But He gives us his Son as a gift, and as anyone with any manners knows, you need to pay attention to the gift on the inside rather than the wrapping job on the outside.

He gives us his Son as a gift, as good news, as peace and joy and reconciliation. There’s nothing more to be done than to receive this gift. No need or ability for us to improve upon it. There are no batteries to be installed, no assembly required, no exchanges and no returns. One size fits all. It is the gift of God’s peace on earth, quite literally, his goodwill towards humanity.

Sunday is the day we observe the Sabbath, also a gift. A weekly reminder of God’s peace, God’s grace, God’s provision. It’s as easy for pastors to forget this every week as it is for you to forget this once a year. It isn’t about me. It’s about the God who gives good gifts to his people, and the response that naturally comes about when we receive a good gift. We can take the gift and put it on our back as another burden or responsibility, as another means of making ourselves feel good about our own efforts, but that’s ludicrous. Irresponsible. Rude. It’s far better to receive the gift and settle down to enjoy it. To really examine it. To really appreciate the magnitude of the thought, the depth of our need, and the goodness of our God who truly loves us. Christmas has come. Sunday is coming. Thanks be to God, go home and enjoy it. Amen.

A Little Insight

June 8, 2015

So I hear people talk about how they aren’t going to get married.  Marriage is a failed institution.  Marriage only leads to divorce.  Maybe they’ve already been through a divorce and don’t ever want to face that horror again.  The reasons and rationale are all fairly similar.  Somehow, not getting married is going to avoid the devastation of divorce.

I don’t think this makes a lot of sense.  It’s not as though you’re going to prevent yourself from becoming emotionally attached to someone just because neither of you intend to marry.  It’s not as though you hold back a part of yourself, whatever part that is (since it clearly isn’t sexual intimacy any longer), and holding that back somehow protects you or is less emotionally devastating than if you had given that part of you as well.  We don’t make such distinctions.  Or at least, some of us don’t.  Girls should be very, very aware that many guys are very capable of making this distinction.  And while I’m sure that there are plenty of women who make this distinction as well, I’m old-fashioned enough to believe that guys are worse.

I was out this evening with some guys and they were talking, as guys will do.  Being the only married one (and considerably older), it was a conversation between the two of them and not me.  One guy has been in a relationship with a woman for years.  Years.  His girlfriend at one point in the not-too-distant past was threatening to end things with him if he didn’t propose, but to my knowledge he hasn’t proposed yet.  The other guy was excited about a new girl in his life.  She was very motivated (which he was happy about because he didn’t want to support her), very busy (which he was happy about because he didn’t want to be expected to  spend all his time with her) and very fit and thin (which he was happy about because he hoped to be sexually intimate soon and expected his girl to take good care of herself so he didn’t get bored with her).

Now, it could be said that guys – particularly younger guys (if you consider late 20’s and early 30’s young, which I don’t) will talk and boast and say things that they don’t really mean to one another.  On another level, it was clear that they were telling the truth at least at a certain level.

They agreed that really marriage was pointless.  There was nothing to be gained by permanently binding themselves to one person, and plenty to lose.  Which implies that they both understand that marriage is fundamentally something different than long-term dating.  Most telling was the guy in the long-term relationship’s statement – As long as you don’t get her pregnant you’re not committed to her.   Wow.  Years together with the same woman and yet he still sees himself as essentially not committed to her just because he hasn’t gotten her pregnant.  Years together and yet he can still consider walking away if someone better comes along, because he is committed.  He isn’t married to her.

I wonder if she feels the same way?  If her Facebook feed is any indicator, she seems pretty committed to him.

I think about my daughter and about the guys she will meet in her life.  I think a lot about how to prepare her for those encounters.  For their charm and their handsomeness and for the giddy rush of emotions (and hormones).  I think a lot about how to give her insight, how to give her wisdom about the decisions she will make.  I could get very cynical and despair that she’ll even find a guy who has his head screwed on straight and won’t simply be looking at her as a means of fulfilling himself with no thought ultimately to her.  But I won’t go there.  I just pray that we can help provide her with the good sense to weed out the boys from the man.  That we can help her see that words don’t mean a lot unless they are backed with commitment.  That we can show her that while a marriage license is no guarantee of a guy’s intentions or worthiness, it goes a long way towards clearing out the wheat from the chaff.

And I hope that the guy she marries won’t be out complaining about her to his friends, or acting as though she’s some sort of nose wart that he puts up with reluctantly because the benefits are too compelling or nobody better has caught his eye yet.  A guy that talks like that when he’s out with his friends, even if he’s mostly bluffing, doesn’t deserve my daughter.  Or anyone else’s, either.

Basking in the Shade

July 9, 2013

Today is our thirteenth wedding anniversary.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t really impress either of us, numerically speaking.  Both our parents have logged over 40 years together and are still going strong.  More than a few couples in our congregation have over fifty years of marriage together.  And we know a few folks who have topped the sixty-year mark.  
While marriage may be suffering as a whole in our culture, we personally are blessed with an inferiority complex in terms of anniversaries.  Not that we’re calling it quits at thirteen, mind you.  We pray for many more to come, and hope to one day attain the more impressive numbers of our parents and parishioners and trust we will.  We just feel kind of silly making a big deal about the number thirteen, compared to all of these other more impressive numbers.
I guess it’s a good kind of inferiority complex to have.  Maybe the best kind.  Whatever it is, we’re grateful for it, and for all of you who have been, are, and will continue to be part of our story. 

I Can’t Be it All

March 19, 2013

How do you determine who you are, what you do, what you say no to and how in general you prioritize your life?

I suspect that for many people, there is no good answer to these questions.  The result is stress.  Mind-numbing, paralysis-inducing stress.  Without a filter of some sort, we are deers-in-the-headlights of data and culture.  
Others seem to agree that something is wrong.  
I vividly remember a snippet of conversational exchange as a young child at my grandparent’s house.  Thumbing through a book of science and nature facts, probably with Nixon or Ford on in the background.  My grandmother made the comment to me (as I was viewing a page on cryogenics) that I could grow up to be the President someday.  I remember thinking that this was an odd thing to say, an odd thing to be true, and an odd thing to aspire to.  
I grew up with realists – people who worked hard to achieve what they had in life.  I don’t remember a lot of conversations about me going to Harvard, or heading up the UN, or changing the world in any mind-numbing and socially glorified way.  Goals were modest.  Perhaps that’s more a testimony to the lack of direction I showed as a youth rather than a particular philosophy of life, but regardless, I grew up assuming I’d figure out a job to do and do it.  I wasn’t going to be the Next Big Thing.  
I suspect this conflicted with my adolescent, overly-romanticized views of The Meaning of Life.  Didn’t I have A Gift to share with the world?  Some deep insight into the nature of human existence?  A Great American Novel waiting to spring forth from my inexperienced mastery of what it means to be human?  
Apparently not.  I may not like admitting that still, but it’s a truth that is hard to avoid as well.  By the grace of God I’m blessed to do and be so many wonderful things, but very few (if any) of them are recognized by the world as being worthy of adulation.  I can’t do it all and be it all.  
Nor do I expect my children to, either.
These days, it seems tantamount to child abuse to say that I don’t have grand visions of my children graduating from an Ivy League school or becoming President or curing cancer.  They may do any or all of these things and I’ll be thrilled and proud and supportive of them each step of the way.  But I don’t think that healthy parenting means attempting to micro-manage their route towards such things.  
We live in an affluent part of the country, but I don’t think that the effort to do-all and be-all personally and for your children is exclusive to areas like ours.  Parents jockeying years ahead  of time to get their kids into just the right preschool, which will prep them for acceptance into just the right private schools, which will prepare them for just the right private high schools, which will best position them for Harvard or Yale or Berkeley.  Which will give them the best shot at a hugely successful and lucrative career.  
I have my biases like anyone.  There are things I’d prefer (and not prefer) to see my kids do when they grow up.  But most importantly I want them to love God.  I want them to be happy with themselves.  I want them to be able to identify things they’d like to accomplish and have the tools to accomplish them.  I’d like them to be realistic, but also enjoy dreaming, since sometimes dreams can become reality.  
Is it wrong to not only acknowledge that you can’t have it all, but to also say that at a very practical level, you don’t even want it all?  Is this just a sign of aging?  A malaise and lethargy of existence that beats our youthful energies and passions into mediocrity?  Or is there something more at play, something perhaps, healthier, than the lives of stress that so many people seem to be living – and teaching their children to live?  
I see the answer to the problem the above-linked article poses.  How do I filter the world and myself, and thereby hope to provide my children with healthy filters?  I have faith in the God who created the world, and who created me and my children without any of my input or guidance.  Who has declared that I am loved and have value not because of where I graduate from or how much money I earn, but simply because He created me and sacrificed his Son for me.  
I don’t have anything to prove.
Without this filter, what would my expectations for myself and my kids be?  How could I ever find a sense of peace with who I am, what I’ve done, what I’m likely to do, and how I can best help my children launch their lives?  I don’t know.  For many people (whether Christian, other faiths, or no faiths), I suspect the answer is that they don’t find that sense of peace.  They bounce from expert to expert, trend to trend, always feeling inferior and behind the curve, always envious of and competing with their friends and family for the best spots and the top honors.  Life becomes a race because if you aren’t racing then what are you doing and how do you know if you’re any good unless somebody else tells you that you are?  Unless your children are beautiful and gifted and grinding away at satisfying your own needs for validation, let alone theirs?  
When I was younger, my cousin told me
Boy you’re gonna be President.
But just like everything else
Those old crazy dreams just kinda came and went.
– John Cougar Melloncamp – “Little Pink Houses”

Living Together

February 15, 2013

It’s hard work, isn’t it?  Even in the best relationships, being with someone every day, all the time, is difficult work.  

Is it any surprise that it is difficult for those in the Church, living together throughout our lives?  I’m privileged to serve a congregation where some folks have known each other and been church family for over 50 years.  That’s a long time to live together in the Christian faith, to worship together every week, to wash dishes in the kitchen after potlucks or share the stove in preparing food beforehand.  It’s a lot of voters meetings to weather, potentially a lot of contentious decisions to live through.  Yet like those lifelong marriages we all admire, the Christian life together is inspiring and a thing of beauty.
But hardly easy.  Far less easy than breaking things off when things get difficult.  
I sat with brothers in the ministry this week and we talked in frustration and pain over the division within our denomination as evidenced in the past couple of weeks and referenced here at my blog.  We were fairly unified in our unhappiness with what happened.  But what struck me is that it is very easy to resort to the same tactics in discussing those you disagree with, when what you’re upset about are the exact same tactics employed by them.  In other words, it is easy to get caught up in righteous indignation at someone you think is acting self-righteously.  
Easy, but not very helpful.  Certainly not helpful when cultivating a life together that spans individual as well as communal lifetimes.  As such, the excerpt this morning in my daily devotional from Luther’s writings seemed very appropo:
“Receive your disreputable and erring brothers and put up with them patiently and take on their sins as your own.  and if you have anything that is good, let it be theirs.  if you think of yourselves as being better than these brothers, then do not take yourselves so seriously as if anything good could only belong to you, but, instead, humble yourselves and be like one of them so that you can carry them along with you.  For it is a wretched form of justice when Christians will not put up with people they regard to be worse than they are.  And you take flight from them and go into solitude instead of being of immediate use to them by your patience, prayer and good example.  If you are either a lily or a rose, then realize that your life must be lived among thorns.  Take care that you yourself do not become a thorn on account of your intolerance and outrageous judgments or secret pride.  The Kingdom of Christ is situated in the midst of His foes.  What fantasies are you dreaming up then with your kingdom amidst friends?”

– Martin Luther –