Remember Me - A Communion Meditation

Several years ago Henriann and I were invited to a "free" dinner.  We knew the meal came with a sales pitch for some home security equipment, but didn’t expect the degree of pressure put on us to invest in this life saving equipment.  The only way we felt like we could get out of the dinner before midnight was to agree to a meeting at our home where we would get some more information.  The sales visit came and went and we managed to not spend any money, but I did learn the old adage to be true - there are no free lunches. 

I should have known better - no one asks you for dinner without having some agenda.  Some may be more noble than others but no one calls you around a table without wanting something.  And that's okay.  People need to sell products.  People need to pitch deals.  But it is a rare exception if someone invites you to dinner and they have no agenda.  After all, who has ever been invited to someone's house for a meal and then sent to a private dining room all by themselves and told to eat and leave the dishes behind?  It just doesn’t happen.   

People invite people to a table for a reason, and it may be as innocent as establishing a friendship or deepening one.  It may be simply to offer some support or wish you well on an upcoming adventure.  But every meal has an agenda on the menu.

Each Sunday we are called to a table.  Called by Jesus himself to eat with him, and, like everyone else, Jesus has an agenda.  But what exactly is it?

His agenda is simple - remember.

Remember who I am.  The preexistent son of God. God himself privileged with all the privileges of deity.  Remember that all things came into existence through me and all things are sustained  by me.

Remember that I came.  In spite of these privileges I left heaven to become one of you.  To live the life you live.  To experience the joy and pain of humanity.  Remember I, the creator, took on the likeness of the created.

Remember why I came.  I became like you because without me you were lost.  You sinned and needed a perfect and sinless sacrifice.  Remember that I suffered great pain so you wouldn't.  Remember I did this out of a deep love that you can only begin to imagine. 

Remember that I will come again.   I can’t tell you when but I will, and when I do we can eat another meal - a meal of victory and celebration.   

"Come to my table," Jesus bids us.  "Eat the bread and drink the wine I have prepared.  Come dine with me ... and remember."

Call Me ... Me

Well, about a week has passed since Caitlyn Jenner appeared on the much ballyhooed cover of Vanity Fair.  As a Christian minister I still don’t know exactly what to think and really have decided not to think too much about the specifics of Jenner's plight.  She never asked me for advice and I doubt she reads my blog anyway!

Yet, the event has caused me to think about aspects of my own life that I'm not quite so happy about.  And, as a preacher and spiritual adviser, it has caused me to think about how to counsel people who have lesser but similar issues that Jenner's plight has brought to the forefront.  How do I, we, deal with those things in our life that we would like to change?

Let me explore this with three questions I need to ask myself when I feel uncomfortable or dissatisfied with who I am.

Do I really want to change in the first place?

I must be aware that I can be easily deceived into thinking that I need to be someone or something else when in actuality I don't.  Often times I sense that if only I was, you fill in the blank, I would be much better off.   I can often fall prey to the "grass is always greener on the other side of the fence" mentality when really the grass on the other side of the fence only looks greener or is just a different shade of green.  There may be some things in my life that need to change, but there also some things that are quite fine and what I really want is to be different or like someone else.  It doesn’t seem wise to me to make changes for the sole reason to be different or to be like someone else.  Besides, some of the things I think I want to change may be the very things that make me unique and wonderful

Will change actually make things better?

A second question I need to ask is whether or not change is going to make things any better.  Change can be somewhat like a drug that gives a temporary high but really doesn’t address the underlying issue that is causing the problem.   Treating problems with change can sometimes bring temporary relief but unless we deal with the real issue, the problem will simply manifest itself again when the high from the change wears off.  Change in job, address, and other circumstances may promise much more than they are able to deliver.  Some people have made significant changes in their life thinking that change was the answer to their problems only to be sadly disappointed.    

Do I pursue change or consider acceptance?

This question perhaps is most relevant in light of current events.  It is a fact there are some things I simply cannot change about myself, and there are some things I can only change at great cost, personal and financial. Some of these costs may be prohibitive to most of us.  Some of these changes can actually destroy who I am.  I am wary that some people see change as the only alternative when acceptance is actually the real path they need to take.

When troubled by who I am or what my circumstances are, I need to seriously consider acceptance rather than pursue change.  It very well may be that the thing I want to change about myself is providing me a unique way to serve the world and changing that may nullify that unique and wonderful trait about myself that equips me to serve as only I can.

I think about the apostle Paul who obviously had something about himself that he wanted to change.  He refers to it as his thorn in the flesh and repeatedly asks God to remove it - to change him!  No one knows for sure what Paul is wrestling with but it is clear that Paul thinks he would be better off if God would intervene.  God doesn't.  In essence, God doesn’t think that change is what Paul needs.  Paul needs to accept whatever it is that he can’t change and what God won’t change.  Paul comes to terms with this thorn, his weakness, and ceases to be obsessed with change and trusts that he is better off as he is rather than what he wants to be.

Could this be what I need to do this as well?  To trust that I am better off as I am rather than what I want to be.  Maybe the very thing I want to change about myself will make me less than myself and make me less effective and influential than I can be as I am.  Maybe what I perceive as a weakness or flaw is in actuality a strength or an opportunity.  Maybe I need to stop asking God to change me and come to accept myself and seek out the unique ways I can serve given who I am and what my circumstances are.

Paul is able to shake his obsession with change and, in accepting his weakness, he is able to do great things.  Great people do that!   Great people at some point stop obsessing with change and attack life head on as who they are.

Change may not be what is needed.  Change may not even be realistic.  Perhaps acceptance is the key that will unlock our ultimate potential.

The words of Reinhold Niebuhr which have come to be known as the Serenity Prayer are appropriate:

        God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

        The courage to change the things I can,

        And the wisdom to know the difference.

And the rains came down ...

With all this rain we've been getting I been thinking back to an old Vacation Bible School song we used to sing when I was young, The Wise Man Built His House Upon the Rock. 

It's based on a story Jesus told in Matthew 7 at the end of his longest recorded teaching that is often referred to as The Sermon on the Mount.    

When the rains came and the wind blew the wise man's house stood firm because it was built on the rock solid foundation of Jesus' teachings.  On the other hand, the foolish man's house, which was built on the sand, fell apart when the winds and rain came because it wasn't built on Jesus' teaching.    The song was always one of the favorites especially since it had fun hand motions.  All us kids would raise our hands and mimic rain falling down and the fun part was when the foolish man's house went "splat"!

The plain message of the parable is that some lives will be able to weather the storms of life while others won't and the difference isn't the structure itself but the underlying foundation. 

Imagine building a house and giving no thought to the foundation?  

Our family likes to watch those home repair shows especially the ones where the contractors find some old house and put together a beautiful plan to restore the structure.  They sit down with the homeowners and dazzle them with their computer animated remodel and set out a plan to transform the dilapidated house.  Inevitably, as they begin their work some unexpected issue comes up.  Often times there is some previously unseen structural issue that needs to be addressed before the renovation can continue.  Everything is put on hold because there's no sense building a beautiful structure if it's about to fall in on itself.  The disappointed couple have to make some sacrifices since no one wants their house to go "splat"!

We humans tend to spend a lot of time and effort in the structure, and Jesus knew that.  That's why he tells this story.  He's warning us that no matter how pretty we look on the outside and no matter how impressed our friends are when they tour our lives, what really matters are those things that no one else can see - our foundation. 

Imagine building a life and giving no thought to the foundation?

There's really no sense living a life that will fall in on itself when the rains come and the winds blow.  And, as we all know, the rains do come and the winds do blow and, when they do, what really matters, the only thing that matters, is your foundation.

Jesus makes the bold claim, "Listen to my words and put them into practice and you can be sure that your life will have a rock solid foundation."  At the very least he's worth a hearing, isn’t he? 

It may require a little sacrifice but no one wants their life to go "splat"!

God is my co-pilot

The world was taken back last month when a plane crashed into the French Alps killing all 150 aboard.   While all plane crashes of this magnitude make front-page news, this one was even more chilling as it appears the co-pilot intentionally took the plane down in a suicide / mass murder. 

When I fly I assume the pilots will do all they can to get me to my destination.  I assume they are all of sound mind and body.  I assume that all pilots are like my hometown's own local hero Captain “Sully” Sullenberger who six years earlier employed all his flying skills to save his passengers.    I don’t often give much thought to who is in the cockpit, but I guess it does matter.

As strange as it may seem, in the aftermath of this disaster a popular bumper sticker from my youth came to mind – God is my co-pilot.  Of course, pilot or co-pilot is never used in the Bible as a metaphor for God, but I guess it serves as a modern day equivalent of The Lord is my Shepherd.  It suggests a confidence that Christians have in God that He will lead them safely to their destination. 

I suppose that most of the people who read this blog have already to some degree handed over the controls to God, and you’re welcome to read on, but what I have to say next is more relevant to those who have not.   Yet, I suppose I am calling all of us to give some thought to where our lives are going and who is in the cockpit, because it really does matter.

The 17th century mathematician and philosopher Blaise Pascal offered a defense of Christianity in what has come to be known as Pascal’s Wager.  Essentially Pascal posits that all human beings place a bet that God either exists or doesn’t exist.  If you bet on His existence and you’re wrong, you really haven’t lost anything.  But, if He does exist you stand to gain everything.  If you wager that He doesn’t exist and you’re right, you gain nothing in view that there is nothing beyond this world.  Yet, if He does exist, you stand to lose everything.  In a sense, the wager boils down to these two things:  is there any destination to life and, if so, who is in your cockpit.

We’re all on a flight we call life.  Some believe it is a flight to nowhere.  The flight itself is all we have and there is no destination.   Enjoy your peanuts and complimentary beverage, because that’s all there is.  No need for a pilot because there is no destination.    That is a philosophy of life.  A sad one in my estimation, but nonetheless one that many have chosen.

On the other hand, there are many more who believe that this life is journey to a greater and longer-lasting destination.  In fact, every human culture has had some sense of a destination, an after-life.  Yet so many people give no thought to who is in the cockpit.  We live with a sense of destination but act like there is none.  We are lulled into a quiet confidence that all life philosophies, like all pilots, can be trusted.  But perhaps they can’t.  At the very least, shouldn’t we all check who is in the cockpit before we entrust our lives to them?

The voice recorders from that Germanwings flight brought to light the harrowing cries of the pilot as it became more obvious that the plane was going down.  He was heard pounding on the locked cockpit door pleading, “Open the d—n door!”   I couldn’t help but recall the eerily similar words of Jesus – “I stand at the door and knock.”

I guess it matters who is in the cockpit.  It really does.  Our very lives depend on it.

    

Ears to Hear

I've done a lot of funerals in my twenty plus years of ministry, far more than I thought I would ever do.  Every service touches me in a unique way and with each funeral I seem to come away with a life-lesson I needed to hear.  Recently I was taught a valuable lesson as I eulogized a certain man.  His name was Dillon.

For many years he had been a member of the church I serve but then, a few years ago, he moved away.  Shortly before his death as his health was deteriorating, he moved back to the area, and when he passed I was asked to perform his funeral, which I was honored to do.  There were many admirable qualities about Dillon, but it was actually his disability that taught me the most.

Some time ago Dillon had surgery for throat cancer that left him unable to speak.  For all the years I knew him he had to use an electronic device to communicate.  He would hold up the gadget to his throat and the vibrations would create a mechanical voice allowing him to speak.   As amazing as this technology is, it was still somewhat difficult to make out exactly what he was saying.   When I would have a conversation with him I would have to listen especially carefully to understand him.   I would lean in and block out all the noise around me.  If I listened closely, I could understand.

As I prepared my remarks for his memorial service it dawned on me that Dillon's disability revealed a disability I had, and perhaps one that many suffer from.  It is a self-imposed disability that prevents us from hearing.  It's not a biological defect or a loss from surgery.  It is a failure to listen - to really listen.  I thought that if I only took the time to listen to others with the same focus and concentration I used with Dillon how much better I could hear and understand what others were trying to say. 

New Testament author James wrote a letter to a group of people that seemed to be having some inter-personal issues -- issues which were uncharacteristic for Christians who professed love and compassion.  Part of his wise advice is this nugget:  Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry.   Perhaps some of the anger and resentment these people were experiencing was because they were just not listening to one another.  James appears to be suggesting that some anger can be diffused if we are more determined to lean in closely and really listen to one another.   Jesus seemed to be onto this problem as well.  On a couple of occasions he concluded his teaching with the curious phrase, "If anyone has ears to hear, let him hear.” 

There's an old Irish proverb that says "God gave us two ears and one mouth, so we ought to listen twice as much as we speak."  Dillon reminded me that if I  determinedly used those two ears,  I could hear a lot more than I choose to.   He reminded me that my ears only work when I lean in and listen.  He taught me that if I really listen closely, I can understand.