Friday, April 10, 2009

getting it

Last night at the Maundy Thursday service we had 6 adults and 7 kids. We had a great time re-living the events for which Maundy Thursday is named: washing feet and taking the Bread and the Cup together. But I was hoping for at least twice that number.

Why do I want more of Grace Community to participate in something like a Maundy Thursday service? It’s inconvenient if you don’t get Good Friday off and can just hang out. And if you’re a parent with kids who don’t get Good Friday off then it interferes with your regular school schedule. Then there’s the weirdness of explaining to friends what a Maundy Thursday service is.

I didn’t grow up observing Maundy Thursday. But I’ve grown to appreciate how having events to observe as part of the Christian calendar shapes me, just as observing the calendar of the society we live in (work, school, holidays) has given me memories and practices make me feel and act a particular way: I’m supposed to get up to go to work, Fridays are supposed to kick off the weekend, I’m supposed to do something special for my loved ones on Valentine’s Day, etc. The problem is that the Christian calendar and the world’s calendar can conflict. And then what will I choose? My choices are important: they shape my identity. But it takes a lot to get me out of my default mode.

Jesus knew this, so he shocked the disciples by washing their feet. The NIV translation of John 13:1 says, “He showed them the full extent of his love.” The disciples would be in too much shock in a few hours to figure out the deep significance of the Cross. They needed something more immediate and tangible, something that they could participate in directly. So Jesus takes advantage of the lack of a foot washing servant to do something completely counter-cultural but also very understandable in their cultural context. It was a teachable moment.

The disciples didn’t get it at first. Peter even refused to let Jesus wash his feet. It must have been at least a little frustrating for Jesus to see that his disciples, those to whom he was entrusting the future of his mission to save the world, still didn’t get it after 3 years. But then again, Jesus wasn’t passing on a management method. He was interested in changed lives. Changing lives and developing new identities takes time. May I be so patient.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Tuesday

Yesterday was Tuesday of Holy Week. In Mark 14:1-11 it says that the woman (probably Mary, as in Mary and Martha) anointed Jesus two days before they celebrated Passover. So if Maundy Thursday is the day Jesus celebrated the Passover with his disciples at the Last Supper, then Tuesday is the day Mary anointed Jesus.

How did Mary feel as she did this? Jesus seems to imply that she did it knowing that he was going to die, as opposed to the Twelve who seemed to be clueless. So she must have been sad and distressed. Yet she had the wherewithal to create this act of worship that was so powerful we still speak of it today.

As I’m creating sermons and worship designs there’s a side of me that wants it to flow easily out of a sense of joyfulness. When my mood is elevated, things seem to be easier. But there are times when I just want to curl up and forget the world outside. A time of pain seems to be an odd time to create an act of worship.

But God takes whatever I have to give him and makes it worthy of being offered to him. I can’t do that myself. Nothing I can create can come close. “All our righteous acts are like filthy rags.” (Isaiah 64:6)

So there is joyful worship that’s like God hanging my kindergarten painting on his refrigerator like a proud parent. And there’s worship that is ragged and tattered and soiled, but it’s all I have at the time, and God is the one who takes my living sacrifice and makes something out of it that is acceptable to him (Romans 12:1).

skating

Monday night Winnie asked me what the marks were under my eyes. I looked in the mirror and realized that I hadn’t accidentally jabbed myself with a Sharpie, I had dark circles under my eyes. I’m prone to such circles anyway, but it was a sign that I’ve been pretty stressed lately.

The stress of being a lead pastor is something that most people are vaguely aware of. But there are a few things that give this time a definite shape. First, there’s the recession. Second, there is the transition that we’re going through as a result of our new vision. Third, there’s the re-shaping of the worship ministries that are now my responsibility.

When I was leading the Bible study at Leland House last Sunday, one of the residents remarked, “You must pray all the time.” I thought about it and then shared that the hardest time for me to pray is when I’m busy doing stuff related to being a pastor. That surprised the group, but it’s a truism that I know most of my fellow pastors appreciate.

I’ve been trying to learn how to rest in my Father’s love. I think it was St. John of the Cross who called prayer the loving gaze. Zephaniah 3:17 (“you will rest in his love”) has been my centering prayer verse because it reminds me that God’s love is a place for me to rest. But there’s another kind of love that is a love of action. In 2 Timothy 1:7 Paul links love to power and discipline. I was talking to my spiritual director about this and the image of an ice skater came to mind. Moving forward is a matter of shifting between resting love and active love. I can’t stay forever in one or I’ll quit moving forward spiritually.

Nor am I to work like crazy for a season and then, exhausted, go to God for resting love. I still have to examine how I do my work. Is it in the Spirit that God has given me, a Spirit of “love and power and discipline”? Or is it all done in dependence on myself, a spirit of fear that I’m not good enough, that I won’t get enough done unless I drive myself?

Someone told me once that God has given me enough hours in a day to do what he wants me to do. The problem is that I keep adding more stuff, stuff I think I need to do (notice the emphasis on the word "I"). May I have the grace to quit praying to manipulate God into helping me do what I think needs to be done and instead abandon myself to the things he is calling me to do, the things that flow out of and affirm the fact that I am beloved by him and given me a unique place in his purposes for the world.