...with my eyes closed

…still with Thee in closer, dearer company,

in work that keeps faith sweet and strong ,in trust that triumphs over wrong;

in hope that sends a shining ray far down the future’s broadening way,

in peace that only Thou canst give, with Thee, O Master, let me live.

---Washington Gladden, 1879

Meat, browned. Tomato paste and water. Beef bouillon paste, spices. Red beans. Cook in crockpot, add salt and tomatoes in juice.

In my sleep I made this recipe, stumbling through blurs of soccer seasons, choir seasons, season seasons. With my eyes closed, with one hand tied behind my back, while pretending I understood the math homework. So when middle child texted for the recipe, I sent it off from pure muscle memory. …”Mom? Is there any kind of tomato stuff in there before the ones at the end?” …”Yes. The tomato paste and water at the beginning…” “Ummm, not there. Did you leave it out?”

Well. A little lesson for me on the power of habit, and falling out of it. When I had stopped making chili by the bucketful, the habits that guided my cooking (and the mental index card that held the much-loved recipe) had fallen away too. Walking in the company of Jesus, our teacher and friend, incorporates habits—habits of work, trust, hope, peace. In the daily practice, the repeating rhythm of these habits we exercise walking in the presence of Christ, we find our way to life.

In Christ’s closer company, we become what we practice.

...you had one job

We all are one in mission, we all are one in call,

our varied gifts united by Christ, the Lord of all.

A single great commission compels us from above

to plan and work together that all may know Christ’s love.

---Rusty Edwards, 1985

You had one job. If you take out your preferred google device and type these words into the search bar, you will be treated to a veritable feast of flops, a buffet of buffoonery, a truckload of troubles. Go ahead...I'll wait. ‘You had one job’ is social media shorthand for ‘Wow, could you have done worse at the thing you were supposed to be in charge of?’

There are school crossings with ‘school’ misspelled. Toilet seats installed upside down. Roadkill painted under the yellow stripe in the middle of the highway. A Back to School sale sign highlighting a wine display. Steps to nowhere. Left Turn Only centered perfectly…under a right turn arrow. Someone gets distracted, and a perfectly good start turns off all wrong. Not because anyone meant it to, but because some other shiny object charmed instead.

You know, the church (the big one, the church universal), the Body of Christ, does lots of things, in lots of places, in lots of ways, for lots of reasons. And lots of those things make the world better, make the church better, make our hearts better, even. But sisters and brothers. We have one job. Jesus told and showed us what it was, over and over, and folks thought it was important enough to remember, to write down later. Love each other. Love your enemies. Love your neighbors. Love by doing. Love straight through your fear. Love sacrificially. Love unendingly. Love. Love. Love.

Do not be deterred. We have one job.

...harvest home

All the world is God’s own field, fruit unto his praise to yield,

Wheat and tares together sown, unto joy or sorrows grown.

First the blade, and then the ear, then the full corn shall appear,

Lord of harvest, grant that we wholesome grain and pure may be.

---Henry Alford, 1844

It doesn’t look like corn. It looks like wide blade grass; St. Augustine, or maybe Johnson grass. Not like corn. Not at first. But wait. Just wait. Keep caring for the plant, watering, weeding, tending. And wait. It doesn’t look like corn at first. But time will tell.

Our own efforts at spreading the good news about God’s lavish gift of abundant life, and sharing life's rich journey with others, may be like tending that corn. It may not seem like our efforts are yielding any results. Funny thing is, though, our task is to  water, weed, tend, care. And wait. It may not look like a harvest at first. But time will tell.

...gathering beside the flood

So now let peace and justice be never far apart,

but flowing like a river for every thirsty heart.

These two shall be united, a mighty flowing stream,

upon whose banks we gather to work and pray and dream.

---Ken Medema, 2003

One thing I’ve noticed lately…peace does not have a very powerful reputation. In an age where even our words are weaponized, the idea that peace could be strong, or courageous, salvific in a world of self-made chaos—such an idea is foreign, unsettling, maybe even a little bit radical.

Now it’s true, that there can be an uneasy peace-and-quiet sort of peace overlaid like a coverlet on a reality of fear and hatred and warring. That creepy sort of quiet from suspense movies, right before the villain bounds out from his hiding place to hatch his dastardly plan on his poor, doomed, should-have-known-better victim.

But there is a powerful peace, and it is real. This peace is rooted in justice—justice that seeks the good of the village, and the equitable treatment of neighbor. When this steady, seeking justice and this powerful, persistent peace join streams, their rolling becomes a massive force that is transformative and healing. Beside that flood we can gather, and dream a new way to live together.

Because empowered peace can change the world.

...I have been afraid

Lo! the hosts of evil round us scorn thy Christ, assail his ways!

Fears and doubts too long have bound us, free our hearts to work and praise.

Grant us wisdom, grant us courage, for the living of these days.

---Harry Emerson Fosdick, 1930

Careful now. Before we go seeing monsters under every bed, and bogeymen around every corner, let’s be clear-headed. When the hosts of evil scorn Jesus and his ways, what ways exactly are they disregarding? What are Jesus’ defining ways? I am going to go out on a limb here, and say that anytime you saw Jesus speak for the voiceless, stand with the invisible, lift up the lowly, welcome the outsider, or free the oppressed, it was then you were seeing the ways of Christ.

And if that be true, the hymn’s next line is put into beautiful, and perfect, and fearsome context for us. Because, my friends, I have been afraid. To speak up in the face of hate or disregard. I have doubted. Whether I was strong enough to stand up. Whether it would be worth it. Even (God forgive me) whether my stand would be fully understood and appreciated. Fears and doubts have silenced my speech and frozen me into inaction. I have not walked in Jesus’ ways.

Well, I checked, and there is no way Harry Emerson Fosdick, the prominent progressive pastor who penned this hymn, and John Mayer, popular singer-songwriter, could have been best friends. The dates just don’t line up. But, folks, let me tell you, I think they would have shared a groovy moment of synchronicity over some of their writing and personal philosophies. Because here is a verse of Mayer’s song Say:

            Even if your hands are shaking

            And your faith is broken

            Even as the eyes are closing

            Do it with a heart wide open

            Say what you need to say

Grant us wisdom, grant us courage. To say what we need to say.

...filling in the blank

We will work with each other, we will work side by side.

And we’ll guard each one’s dignity and save each one’s pride.

And they’ll know we are Christians by our love.

---Peter Scholtes, 1966

“They’ll know we are Christians by our _________.” There it was, all dressed up, bold-faced, meme-style, on my Facebook feed the other day. The folk hymn companion of “Pass It On” from the heart hymnal of my youth, sent out as a poll QOTD (question of the day) for any and all comers to fill-in-the-blank. And they did. Oh, they did.

Now, some folks knew the answer was supposed to be Jesus…and answered with “love”. But there are large portions of society who are not aware of what (we hope) marks Christianity. Some folks’ experience with people who wear the label has been judgmental, dismissive, condescending, even cruel. I cannot dismiss or deny their experience, because it is theirs…and because it has occasionally been mine.

But. I can labor and live to counteract that impression. I can love the world, and the people in it, with my whole heart. I can work to make this world better reflect the kingdom of heaven, where the Prince of Peace reigns and the dignity and pride of every person are uplifted. I can walk the world gently, and consider what it means to lay down my life for the sake of ‘the other’. I can let my breath be thanks.

You can, too. And they’ll know we are Christians. You know. By our love.

...out of our huts

Strengthened by this glimpse of glory, fearful lest our faith decline,

We, like Peter, find it tempting to remain and build a shrine.

But true worship gives us courage to proclaim what we profess,

That our daily lives may prove us people of the God we bless.

---Carl P. Daw, 1988

We look, in these days, for worship that ‘wows’ us, worship that impresses, that astounds. We want to be fed, enraptured, thunderstruck. We want to wish to stay forever, to keep coming back for more, to never ‘let this feeling end’. We want ‘this’, always.

We want, in some strange way, to build a hut, to pull God in through the doorway, to hide away this glittering holiness, this shimmering lightness, all for us, for all time.

But see here. Worship is no glittering destination, no rapturous ‘fix’ for the faithful. Worship, rather, is challenging, inspiring, transformative. And, once transformed, a worshiping people are a working people, compelled by our transformation to lift up what is fallen, to bind up what is broken, to lighten what is burdensome, to reconcile what is torn. 

Out of the huts with us. It is time to let transformation do its work. To live as people of God.

...wait and work

Are you a do-er? Or a be-er? Do you make things happen, or watch to see what happens? 

Advent is pretty big on waiting. Each year, we wait anew for the story to unfold--the prophets' words, the angels' whispers, the shepherds' trusting quest, the magis' calculations and dogged pilgrimage from away, the brave mother, her faith-filled fiance, the hush of the stable. And over it all, that star, silent, beckoning. The world holds its breath, waiting on the time to be right, nearly past right, for the Baby.

And there is another Advent waiting, another yearning. Again the prophets' words, this time about the birth of a world remade, a world replete with justice, compassion, peace. A world where war and weeping, where betrayal and disregard, where enriching some by injuring others, are faint and fading memories. The world holds its breath, waiting on the time to be right, nearly past right, for the realm the Baby, grown,  promised was near at hand, within us.

But this is no idle waiting. This waiting comes with hammer and nail, with shoe leather and caring hands. Waiting for the realm of heaven to be made manifest is no 'sit back and watch' sort of waiting. It is active waiting, waiting with your work clothes on. It is catching a vision of the realm of heaven, and risking your current status, privilege, advantage to usher that realm into being. To be co-laborers with God in welcoming the household of love, enough for all the world.

This, too, is Advent. Wait, and work.

,,,the wind changes everything

Wind who makes all winds that blow ---gusts that bend the saplings low,

gales that heave the sea in waves, stirrings in the mind’s deep caves ---

aim your breath with steady power on your church, this day, this hour.

Raise, renew the life we’ve lost, Spirit God of Pentecost.

---Thomas Troeger, 1983

It was one of those days. The kind when you slap bugs crawling up and down your back, and find it’s sweat pouring down your spine. When your gaze across the blacktop of the supermart parking lot is crazed and zagged by waves of rising heat. When the silence is so thick your ears ring with it. When you walk bowlegged, just to keep your thighs from rubbing together where they are chafed, from rubbing together on days just like this. Five days, ten. All of them. It has been this hot, this humid, this still, for. ev. er.

You have work to do. The heat, the stillness won’t stop you, won’t keep you from working with skill, with dedication, with honor. Won’t cause you to throw up your hands, throw in the towel, throw up the white flag of surrender. You believe in the work you do, feel called to it, even. Leaving it undone, or half-done, feels as wrong as planting without mulch to protect from the harsh sun. Beside all that, you are no quitter, are you?

So you keep on.

But, playing with your sweaty curls, ruffling the hem of your red-dusted work shirt, sending pecan leaves trembling is a freshening, a breeze. You raise your eyes to the horizon, edge of disbelieving…but there it is, again. You are still, almost afraid to move for fear the wind will disappear. But you do. And it doesn’t.

And that wind. It renews. It envigorates. It restores the joy to the work you were doing. It colors your shades of grey world, reminds you how good, how life-giving, your labor was. Is.

The wind? It changes everything.

...all I want

O come, Desire of nations, 
bind all peoples in one heart and mind;
bid envy, strife, and quarrels cease;
fill all the world with heaven's peace.
Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel!
---Latin hymn, c. 1710

Desire. As I word-process these words, Mariah Carey's voice is singing to me out of my iPad Pandora channel: "Make my wish come true...all I want for Christmas is you." The scuttlebutt on Facebook is that DietPepsi drinkers really, really, really want their aspartame back. In 1946, Don Gardner just wanted teeth---at least, that's what his holiday hit, "All I Want for Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth" said! All Steve Martin wanted in The Jerk was "this ashtray, the remote control, the paddle game, this magazine, and the chair." And if you watch the ads around holiday time, folks really want vacuums (watch as the vacuum commercials magically disappear into a 10-month black hole on Dec. 26!). Surely this can't mean no one vacuums except between Thanksgiving and Christmas (I mean, no one but me)?

Imagine, though, what God's desire for God's own creation might be, what God's intent for this humanity (created in God's own image) might be. Imagine one people. Imagine working together to solve humanity's issues with the good of the littlest, the lost, and the least in mind. Imagine setting envy aside; moving beyond grasping at resources like shoppers in the flat screen aisle at a Black Friday sale; giving up our right to hold grudges.

Imagine that world. And then put on your work gloves---there are walls to tear down, and bridges to build. Because God is not a stand-around-and-watch-it-happen kind of God. God is a grab-a-hammer-there-are-plenty-of-nails kind of God. And I want in on building that world.

O come, Desire of nations, 
bind all peoples in one heart and mind.