examination

Legacy

Last Sunday, I gave a pretty personal message. Sometimes, the most personal things can be alienating. No one is going through the exact same circumstances or situations, no 2 people are really walking the same path. However, far more often, the most personal expressions are the most universal, because we are all having this human experience and share much, much more than we don’t. When Taylor Swift talks about her ultra-famous boyfriend breaking up with her, of course we can’t relate to those specific details, but we certainly do with broken hearts. We hear the words from her diary and they feel pulled from our souls, from our own relationships.

Paul gave his farewell address to the elders in Ephesus…a wildly different place than our small town in Pennsylvania, different people, different culture. Yet, his words ring true to us, here, now, as we read them 2,000 years later on our cell phone apps. So, it’s my birthday, and it probably isn’t yours (unless you’re my cousin), but we’ve all asked the same questions, right? What would our farewell address be? I mentioned our legacy, and that’s such a pretentious word, but it just means “something passed down.” What would we pass down? Would they remember us, and how?

On one hand, we can’t spend too much time considering this, or we’ll end up thinking about how to live a beautiful life instead of actually living one. But, as with most everything significant, it doesn’t just happen. Beautiful, lasting lives require examination and intention.

I asked these questions: Do we want our last post to be a mean, nasty, cutting one? Do we want to leave with a separation, with something between us? Do we want the last thing we say to be anything less than love, grace, peace, or Jesus? Do we want the people we leave to know we love them? Have we told them today? Have we shown them today? Have we proclaimed the Gospel, with our words, hands, feet, resources, and lives? Have we been patient and kind? Have we loved? 

I often reference our social media posts, because I find them shockingly sharp and aggressive, from even the most lovely people. It seems that we don’t consider their impact, as if they’re made in a vacuum, as if they are not actual personal connection, not us at all. It’s like the coliseum, where we fight, kill or be killed. (It is not. There are flesh and blood moms and dads, sisters, brothers, behind those profile pictures and posts of perfect dinner plates.)

Anyway. Have we loved? I can think of no better string to wrap around our fingers or tattoo on our hands. That is a fitting legacy, maybe the only fitting legacy.

Or have we been annoyed, short, bothered? Did we ignore those holy moments, or were we just distracted, or running late? Maybe we scolded them, made them feel small, mocked, made fun? Do they feel inspired after seeing us, by simply seeing themselves through our own eyes, through fresh words and possibilities? Are they beaten down again, or filled with the hope of redemption? When they walk away, have they seen the love of God in, from, us?

Life can be pretty hard. Do we want to be the ones that ease pain, bring peace, extending hands instead of throwing fists? Are we the ones who are raising our arms to defend our sides, or are we taking our arms and wrapping them around each other? Have we loved, always, and in all ways? I know that last answer is no, of course it’s no, but if we can only start thinking about what it is that we are passing down, maybe it’ll be no less often. And maybe we can start singing some great new songs.

A Dallas Cowboy Win

The Dallas Cowboys are the official NFL team of the Bridge Faith Community, I’ve decided, and yesterday they barely eked out an overtime win over the hated rival New York Giants. To be honest with you, it was pretty disappointing, and as I am examining why that is, I am finding that it speaks to a reality that is far mare important than some dumb game in Texas.

Every year, I think the Cowboys will win the Super Bowl, and every year since 1995, I am wrong. This no longer ruins my year, season, month or even day, like it did when I was a teenager. They are just my favorite team. I am not a player, I have no stake in the team whatsoever. Yet, I would say I love them. [Obviously, not in the way I love my wife or any other person I actually know. I’m not an insane teenager anymore.] This is, I recognize, a ridiculous reality, but it is a reality nonetheless.

Now, let me tell you about a family beach vacation, about 10-15 years ago. One evening, we were on the boardwalk and my sister and I began to argue – I don’t remember what it was about, more than that I wanted her to say and/or do something, and she wasn’t saying or doing that thing, that way. She wanted the same from me. We had pictures in our heads of how the evening should go, and when they didn’t, we were frustrated and angry.

(If you have a sibling, you know the kind of ‘frustrated and angry’ I’m talking about. There is a certain safety in screaming out of frustrating and anger at someone you’ve lived with since you were born.)

Why were we arguing on a beautiful night on a boardwalk in Ocean City? For the same reason I was (am) disappointed in a nice win. It’s also the same reason the Angel and I usually have conflict, in our relationship. When I’m shockingly mean to me, in my head, it’s for this reason, too. And it’s also why I don’t buy, or listen to, the new Counting Crows albums. While we’re on the subject, it’s probably why we all hate each other on social media.

My sister and I fought because we had an expectation for the evening, we expected something from the other. I expect the Dallas Cowboys to win every game, comfortably. When I listen to new Counting Crows records, I still have August & Everything After in my head, and this new one is never that! I walk into these conversations with my wife with expectations that she will see it my way, or respond to me in a particular way.

Expectations are about what they should do, what they are supposed to say, how this should go, who should win, how you are supposed to see the world, and on and on. And when they don’t, when it doesn’t, I am disappointed and petty. I lash out, or pout (in other words, I say mean things or nothing at all.)

That night on the boardwalk opened my eyes to a new question, instead of why she didn’t participate in my mental construct for a perfect evening. Who in the world was I to decide how she should be, what she should say???? What gave me the right to be the all-knowing arbiter of what is supposed to be?

And when I finally asked that question, and searched my super ugly parts for the truth, it’s easy to see that I gave me that right. It’s simple arrogance, the same idolatry that is so commonplace all over the Bible and still is, today, in every corner of all creation. I didn’t like that answer, but what I like or don’t like doesn’t really matter when we’re talking about the truth.

What if I could have allowed my sister to be and do only what she wants to be and do? What if I didn’t have to control every aspect of all people and circumstances? I’ll tell you what happens – I am free to enjoy the time. I am surprised by the kindness, care and thoughtfulness of people, and the stunning beauty of my life, when it can unfold naturally, without my need to write everyone’s story by the blinding light of my own altar. Most importantly, without expectation, I am free to be grateful.

I can’t always do it (like yesterday’s NFL game, for example), maybe I never will be perfect, but I’ll sure keep trying. It’s totally worth it. Those Counting Crows albums probably aren’t so bad, after all.

A Genesis 28:16 World

Genesis 28:16 reads, “When Jacob awoke from his sleep, he thought, “Surely the Lord is in this place, and I was not aware of it.”” I reference it often, the most recent of which being just last Sunday, telling the story I’m about to tell again, here & now.

This verse is inextricably tied to the death of my dad, because it found me as I was raw and in such pain, struggling with his absence, mourning the hole he left. The truth that I was also mourning the hole I allowed while he was alive was almost too much to bear – I was very unaware. This warning changed the rest of my life, as I vowed to never be unaware ever again, never miss the divine in others, never sleep through the sacred moments & people (which is, of course, all of them) in my life.

You know how vows are, though…I have still missed far too much. But I’m trying, and I’m getting better, more awake, all the time.

Anyway, we moved my youngest son into his college dorm room last week. The school, Lycoming College, then, held a Convocation. I had never heard the word before, (and I really like words, and I like to know lots of them!!), so I didn’t know what we were in for.

A Convocation, according to our great, all-knowing sage, Wikipedia, is “a group of people formally assembled for a special purpose, mostly ecclesiastical or academic. The Britannica dictionary defines it as “a large formal meeting of people” It’s just a gathering, or the act of calling people together for a gathering. (There is such a cool thing coming, in about a paragraph or 2.) This convocation was a “welcome, new students,” gathering, and was moving, emotional, and charged with all of the weight of beginning a new stage of life, for all of us, students & parents alike.

Well, not all of us. There were many students listening to music, watching TikTok videos, or messaging others. Then, a few rows from me, 3 students were loudly talking (I still don’t know if they were talking to each other or their phones – I’m pretty sure it was certainly about the content on their phones.) Did I say “loudly?” LOUDLY. They were so loud, not using their inside voices at all.

Now. Of course, this awful behavior, and these 3 people, is/are rude and disrespectful. Elementary children are less obnoxious than these college students. BUT. What struck me was how depressing it was, and how depressed I was, for them.

They were taking their first steps into a brand new world. They are beginning their adult lives, full of promise and possibility. They are becoming the people they will be, and this process starts with this beautiful ceremony. What could be more significant??

And they missed it. And I don’t think they’re unique in this, I think it’s probably a Genesis 28:16 world.

Now, can you guess where the word Convocation comes from? Leviticus!! In Leviticus 23, God instructed His people to set aside holy times to gather, worship, and refocus on His covenant. Convocation actually means a “sacred meeting!!”

Surely the Lord was in that place, and they were unaware.

My heart breaks, even now. They’ll never get another convocation as first time, incoming college students. God was there, filling that gymnasium, whispering His call on their lives, through the 6 people who addressed them, and through the other students who will be the iron that sharpens them.

The thing about the burning bush was not that it was burning, bushes burn all the time, it’s that it wasn’t being consumed. That takes presence and attention, awareness when the Lord is in this place, wherever “this place” is. These 3 were like what was surely countless others who walked on by, unaware, until Moses noticed and his life, and the lives of a nation and a world, changed.

And my next thought is always, I wonder where I have been unaware. Where have I missed it, missed my life, missed the sacred in my midst? I really hope those kids wake up, and I hope we all do, too, so we never again suffer the crushing ache of having to say, “and I was unaware.”

A List

Today’s site prompt is to list 30 things that make you happy. Maybe I’ll do that, it sounds like fun. Morrissey. My AmazonMusic Discovery Mix. Rollercoasters. Fruit & yogurt parfaits. Cool mornings. This wedding picture on our wall. Clocks. Well, maybe I won’t do it here. I do have something to discuss.

Sunday’s message asked the, frankly, terrifying question: Will they know us by our love? I know, it sounds divisive to use language like this. Who are they? Who is us? But, does it really matter? Will another person who is not me know me by my love? Will other people who are not me see/meet me and think, that man there is a walking, talking, hugging illustration of 1st Corinthians 13? If you spend more than a moment considering this question, it’s a big, convicting mirror that asks a million more questions.

I wake up with the Angel. In the summer’s, she has Fridays off, which means she goes in at 6 from Monday-Thursday, so the alarm rings at 5ish on those days. I no longer get up that early, on purpose, except in the summers. Usually, we leave together and I go to the gym, but today is a rest day. (Maybe a rest morning, maybe I’ll go in the afternoon or evening. Who knows?) Today, with all of this time, I ate my breakfast while watching an Amazon documentary called Shiny Happy People.

Shiny Happy People is a series, as it turns out, with each season digging into a new, different topic. Season 1 dealt with the Duggar family. It’s possible you’ve heard of them, they are a couple who has 1,000 children, a reality tv show and a growing mountain of controversy. Season 2 concerns the teen ministry, Teen Mania. Apparently, it was absolutely massive, and I had never, ever heard of it. Teen Mania, and it’s tentacles, were gigantic, and now does not exist, due to the many ex-members who went public with their experiences.

So, now I have a new question. We are called to bring healing, right? Are the things we do & words we say bringing healing to the broken & hurting?

This ministry (which, like most other cults, began as a beautiful community of Christian faith) was positive for many, but was a wrecking ball to others. I wonder if my words are kind of like that, if I am like that. Are my words just another instrument of damage, or do they bring peace and hope into dark places?

The documentary was unbelievably frustrating and so, so sad. The Gospel of Jesus Christ being weaponized for the ultimate end of political gain, power, and money is wildly offensive. Essentially, it was The Gospel being used in service of a different gospel, this one a false counterfeit, the gospel of me. It’s selfish and creates so many obstacles to the true, loving relationship with Our Crteator that saved so many of our lives. That I can inflict these wounds for a vote or a dollar is clear, there is no fundamental difference between us.

And THAT is why these questions are so important. This Teen Mania guy probably began as someone just like us, who loves Jesus and wants you to do the same, then he got some attention and status, then some more power, which went unchecked, which translated to more and more money, yet more power, until he was a monster with a raging, unquenchable ego who forgot our call to love, and to heal. When these people he traumatized finally spoke out loud, he lied, denied, and continued to steal money from youth groups, until he could no longer so do, and left the country to try to build the same model elsewhere.

If we don’t hold The Spirit’s Hand and ask, if we don’t examine ourselves and our motivations, if we don’t double and triple check our social media posts and messages, if we don’t pay attention to our relationships and communities, if we don’t stay on the path of Jesus, we can, and will, be Teen Mania, inflicting pain everywhere we go. The enemy doesn’t need us to follow him, just ourselves.

Our words still have the power to build or destroy, to give, or take, life. For what end will we use them? We can be creators or destroyers. Which will it be?

Now…23 more things that make me happy. Bacon. Ice cold glasses of water. GIFs of babies dancing. I bet I’ll get waaaay more than 30.

No More Donkeys

Sunday’s message featured the age-old cage match between envy and gratitude. Envy confronts us, again, with the question of why we do what we do. Are we doing it to get that person’s whatever, or for another reason? Are we giving our time, money, or energy to get that better thing/model, or for more and more of what we have? Everything about envy is diametrically opposed to the tenets of gratitude, which says, this (person/thing/situation) is enough, I am enough. Then, there were lots and lots of ways to practice gratitude: presence, appreciation, focus, simply saying the words, “thanks.” The topic is as important as any we speak about, as far as it’s impact on our daily lives.

Our relationships dissolve because we take what we have for granted and allow our eyes and minds to wander elsewhere, to a new relationship we guess would be better. Our jobs are unsatisfying because we have lost interest in our own and would rather have theirs. Envy is a lifestyle of perpetual lack.

And a lifestyle of lack is a lifestyle of lack. It’s what we deserve, what we are supposed to have – it’s a selfish perspective, and that directly impacts our understanding of Jesus Christ, the Gospel, and the Bible. It was an important, and deeply personal message to give.

Now. The message had its roots in the 10th commandment, Do not covet your neighbor’s anything. I always use the “neighbor’s donkey” part, and it is used to describe anything of our neighbor’s that we want, whether it’s their car, house, new windows, or wife. Sunday, I carried the donkey metaphor over into our marriage relationships, referencing David & Bathsheba, even using the phrase, “the vows we made to our donkey.” This is a husband or wife. It just so happens I have a wife, and the metaphor spilled onto her. It was perceived that I was calling my wife a donkey. Many turned around to see her reaction. It was a little bit funny, and to be honest, I used the metaphor on purpose.

Metaphors are not usually meant to be realistic, they can make their greatest impact if they are absurd, wildly exaggerated, or shocking. Like using the word donkey in discussion about spouses and covetousness. Of course, it can also obscure the point. Maybe we all forgot how destructive envy is or how valuable gratitude is, because we were thinking about donkeys and the Angel. (*More on that in about a paragraph.) Maybe we were thinking about her and I instead of our own vows. Maybe we forgot to say thanks, about our own donkeys (whatever they are).

The joke was that I was in BIG trouble. I wasn’t. She understands metaphor and she understands the art form, and being with me requires a certain willingness to live fairly publicly (and have some stories told out loud in a room full of her friends). She lives her life with understanding and tons of grace.

AND, there is another thing…

The vast majority of the message contained many, many (too many, I was afraid as I began) examples of the things I loved, and continue to love, about her. The things I never take for granted about her. How I remember asking her out on our first date, and every second of that date and most after.

In speaking about searching for & reflecting on the beauty in our lives, I used a study about how the negative prints immediately on our souls and the positive takes 15 seconds. It’s why 100 likes & compliments are overshadowed by the 1 thumbs down or pointed jab. We rarely hear, and almost never remember, “that’s a nice shirt.” We ALWAYS carry “why would you wear that shirt?” sometimes for months, sometimes forever.

All you know of how I feel about being married to the Angel, over the years you know me, and the avalanche of appreciation and gratitude on Sunday were eclipsed by what sounded like an off handed comment (but wasn’t an off handed comment at all). I know, right?!!? Every week, it’s gross how I look at her with hearts in my eyes, open her doors, speak behind her back as if she’s the girl of my dreams (because she is), and lose my train of thought because she looks so rad. And one metaphor puts me in the metaphorical doghouse?

Sheesh. What does that mean about how we speak to each other, our children, the people online or at the store? What does that mean about our social media comments? It says, fair or not, it can be pretty easy to be a wrecking ball, crashing and undoing years and years of building.

I don’t want to be a wrecking ball, or an obstacle to anyone taking the terrifying honest journey of self-reflection. (This is so much of what Paul writes about – sure, you can, you have the right, but if it hinders one, it’s not even close to worth it.) We’re building something wonderful here, at the Bridge, in our relationships, and with our lives. And my intention was obviously, clearly misunderstood. I assure you I will take chances with examples and metaphors that stick, but I can also assure you I will not use that donkey metaphor again.

Homing Pigeons

We are homing pigeons… I love that metaphor: homing pigeons created to fly home to our God. Our fear, anxiety, restlessness, discontent, unease, unfulfillment, depression, longing, all point us away from all of the superficial, hollow ways we try to make sense of ourselves and our lives, and point us to the only One who can. We all look for meaning, purpose, and identity, most times in wildly unhealthy ways, our unmet desires are spiritual direction signs, and we ultimately find our answers in Him.

But there is one thing I didn’t really mention, and it’s the thing I haven’t been able to shake.

We used to have a van, and there was a “tire pressure” indicator on for the last several years we owned it. In high school, my best friend Matt had a car with a perpetual “check engine” light. At the last oil change, the computers weren’t reset, so every time I start my focus, the “oil change” message shows on my dashboard screen. That’s just 3. There might be any number of lights on in your car right now. The common thread is that we all ignore(d) these warnings.

If our unmet desires are spiritual direction signs, are they just more warnings we ignore? Do you feel anxious about anything? Better yet, what are the things that make you anxious? Maybe you don’t know. Maybe we are so busy, and so busy running from all uncomfortability, that we don’t have (or take) a second to address our holy desires, don’t pause to ask these questions.

Or, if we do ask, we answer dishonestly, with a maddening nonsense that’s only purpose is to uphold our ridiculous constructed images that everything’s fine, that we’re all ok. But we’re not.

A massive self-help industry implies that we need it. Marketers/advertisers know the best way to reach us and convince us to buy the newest, fanciest, most expensive whatevers is through our perceived lack. Alcohol, drugs, porn, junk food, and & all -isms, and on and on – they’re all futile attempts to fill these holes.

What could happen if we stopped and sat down, looked around, said, “these things certainly aren’t helping…but I still do have this nagging thorn in my soul that there must be more. What’s that about?” What could happen?? That’s the idea behind being homing pigeons. Solomon writes, “He has set eternity in the human heart,” which is another way of saying, “He has set Himself in our hearts.” So, what now? Do you think He gave it to us, so we would be forever incomplete? Or do you think He gave it to us to allow Him to complete us?

(That’s not a genuine question, you already know what the answer is. But what if your perspective of God is one of distrust? What if the god in your head is an angry, disapproving one just waiting to catch you messing up, so he can unleash his wrath upon you? Maybe you wouldn’t be so quick to go home, maybe you’d want to be a different kind of pigeon. But that isn’t the God of the Bible. That is simply not the Gospel.)

This post is about the importance of examination. Maybe Socrates famously said, “the unexamined life is not worth living,” because he knew there is only one place to find this life that is “worth living.” And maybe he wanted us to check our warning indicators and finally listen to them.

1,000 Questions

Today is our wedding anniversary, and Friday is my son’s graduation. I’ll write about them both on my other blog, lovewithacapitall.com. Maybe next week will have the graduation reflection in both spaces. Who knows? But there is another website, if you happen to be interested. But today, here, is directly related to our Sunday morning service…

Since I began teaching at the bridge, there has been one recurring complaint. Not that there haven’t been others – there is usually a chorus of “you should have done it this way,” or, “I don’t like the way you did that” – it’s just that each one of those is specific and pointed. They don’t like my voice, my shoes, my perspective. There’s plenty to not like. But the most common, general criticism is that I rarely project verses, important words & concepts, and any of the 1,000 questions I ask every week, on the screen.

There are 2 kinds of negative feedback. One has absolutely nothing to do with me (and is way more common). The mouth that is speaking cuts on purpose, out of a well of pain or insecurity in them. I can see this now, when, as a younger man, I couldn’t differentiate and allowed everything in, as if it were all equally valid and good-hearted. It isn’t. This doesn’t mean they still can’t be right about me, with their attack, it just means I spend much less time evaluating.

About how I receive this “help:” I am not so arrogant to think I do everything perfectly, am always right, and I am not so fragile to think my imperfection means that I am always wrong or worthless. So, I can (mostly) receive it with humble gratitude. Sometimes, though, boundaries are required – what I’ve also learned is that not everyone can have unlimited access to you.

Anyway, the second is genuine and helpful, even if I ultimately choose not to change me, my opinion or my process. These are friends, they care about me, want me to be healthy, happy, effective. I take lots of time considering their words, suggestions, and if/how I would integrate it into a newer, better version of me. Then, I either do or do not. (And against Yoda’s wishes, I sometimes try, with varying success.)

This projection issue is easily in the second camp. The well-meaning people that make this suggestion are absolutely right, I should.

So, why don’t I?

I don’t really know. I see the value in it. And the “I don’t know” goes against one of the characteristics I find most important: mindfulness. We should know why we do what we do, be intentional about it. It’s actually why I ask the questions, in the first place, to introduce us to ourselves and invite us to show up and get to know us, from the inside out. My boys knew “I don’t know” is 100% unacceptable and only prolongs the lecture (ha!). And my house rule as a dad has always been, if I didn’t know why not, the answer has to be yes. So, why don’t I just put the questions on a PowerPoint? I don’t know.

Here they are, from this week: Why do we do what we do? (That’s an ironic first question, isn’t it?) Who is building the “house?” Are things in their proper place? Who/What delights our hearts?

Maybe I’ll start. I’m pretty embarrassed to admit that I’ve been sleeepwalking through this relatively innocuous issue. But if I act without intention or awareness in relatively small things, maybe I will with big ones, too. Maybe this isn’t about slides at all. Maybe it’s about the man I am constantly becoming.

Next week we’ll probably have slides.

Trouble

Listen to this verse (28) in 1 Kings 12: So on the advice of his counselors, the king made 2 gold calves. He said to the people, “It is too much trouble for you to worship in Jerusalem. O Israel, these are the gods who brought you out of Egypt!”

The king, in this passage is Jeroboam. Israel had split into 2 (north and south), after Solomon’s death, due to Solomon’s unfaithfulness and increasing transgressions. Jeroboam and 10 of the tribes, became the northern kingdom, while Rehoboam, Solomon’s son, formed the southern kingdom with the 2 remaining tribes. (The fact that Rehoboam – and Solomon’s line – got anything is due only to the mercy of God and His loyalty and love for David.)

Jeroboam’s fear was that his people would go south, to Jerusalem, for worship, and stay there, I guess. Or leave him and pledge themselves to Rehoboam? It’s just “too much trouble” to worship God, in His way, the way He’s prescribed. This guy, right? You can see the writing on the wall a million miles away. He’s choosing comfort and ease over anything & everything else. Can you believe that???

The thing that is so maddening about these Israelites is their propensity to live such destructive loops. They cry out, lean into God, God rescues, they turn away from Him, make a mess because of this idolatry, then cry out, move towards God, God rescues, they turn away from him, make a mess because of this idolatry, cry out, lean towards, God rescues, turn away, make a mess, and on and on and on. We read this and tear our hair out, exasperated, screaming, “Again!??! How many times do they have to do this??!!??” We’re right to do this, it is frustrating. And it’s confusing – why do they keep doing it? Why don’t the ever remember? Why do they keep getting bitten by the same animal, banging their heads against the same wall?

On a completely unrelated note, what I am learning about me is that I can sometimes have an amazing lack of self-awareness. When Nathan confronted David about his Bathsheba situation, he painted a picture of a “man” that sent David into a rage. He ranted at the “man’s” transgression, only to be told, “You ARE that man!!” I am just like David, sometimes.

Anyway, back to Jeroboam and the 2 calves…

Can you believe that guy, choosing convenience and power, moving in fear and self-protection instead of faith, trust, and obedience??? He’s a perfect illustration of the idolatry of these Israelites, who continue to be seduced by their own pride and self-reliance, or just to simply follow easy, wide paths in service of their own selfish pleasure.

It’s too much trouble to get out of bed to travel all that way to to the Temple. It’s too much trouble to follow God, to put Him before us, to put others before us. It’s too much trouble to confront our bad decisions, reflect, and learn. Faithfulness is too much trouble. It’s too much trouble to delay gratification. It’s way too much trouble to take our hands off the wheel and give up our imaginary sense of control. It’s just too much trouble.

I’m happy we’re not like them.

Decompression

The site prompt for today is: How do you unwind after a demanding day? This is a fine day for that question. Last week was a busy, heavy week. There were physical meetings and appointments, but more than that, the emotional & spiritual weight was, at times, overwhelming. The site knows this, so the question is especially pointed today.

So, what do we do?

Late last week, we discussed rhythm. The Church calendar has this flow – Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Easter, with others sprinkled in, but in between is the mushy, colorless connecting tissue that’s called “Ordinary Time.” Today is the day after Easter (there are several Sundays of Easter), but feels exactly like Ordinary Time.

The only obvious question is, “Is any time truly ordinary?”

Again, so, what do we do?

Some of us sleep in, others wake up early, some leave for a quiet vacation away from home, some choose a quiet vacation at home (stay-cation), some go to the gym, some get right back to work, some of us feel like we might be getting a little sick. The Angel is reading a book with her workout clothes on (maybe she’ll go for a walk outside, or maybe she’ll stay right where she is and read. Either way, she’s exactly where she needs to be. And she looks ridiculously beautiful.) Elisha is awake, watching YouTube videos while playing a video game while eating breakfast (maybe this is rest, for the younger generation.) I am writing now, thinking about this (and you), and wondering if what I feel in my throat and head is, indeed, a sickness.

I have a great friend who lost her mother 2 weeks ago, the service was last week, and I bet today is awfully… what? The responsibilities are over, there’s a new normal, most people are home and praying for her and her family instead of being at their home praying with them. Does she feel like she can finally cry out loud in her bedroom? Or does she feel tired deep in her soul, as well as her body? Is she dreaming of her mom dancing with Jesus, and laughing in celebration of a fully-realized faith? Probably all of those. Is that Ordinary Time? Is it decompression?

I used to call the 45 minute drive time home from work ‘decompression,’ where I would begin to breathe after a long day. There were people at home, and I didn’t want the weariness or drama to enter and muddy the precious space between us. That’s what I have always called “unwinding.”

Lost of words come to mind: presence, mindfulness, intention, and others just like them. I don’t think it really matters what it is that we do, as long as it’s on purpose. Maybe your decompression is very different from mine. Some mow grass on Sundays because it’s not work at all, it’s how they express their gratitude at a lovely creation. It’s work for me. My brother in law cooks all the food for Thanksgiving because it’s how he floods his entire family with his love, care, and appreciation. I just eat, as my thankfulness.

What do you do? There’s no wrong answer. Although, if there was, it would be to climb back on the wheel, seeing it as a wheel of oppression, hating it but running because that’s what you’ve always done, and there’s no other choice but to run. Sometimes, we change our circumstance, and others, we change our perspective of the current circumstance. Maybe, in that case, living the resurrection is to see the wheel with gratitude, as provision. Or maybe it’s to tear that wheel to the ground.

Nothing is better or worse, sacred or secular. The only question is if it’s consecrated or not. (Consecrated simply means set apart, given to God, and anything can be consecrated. Or not. Grocery shopping can be a supremely spiritual offering, and attending church can be an abomination.) So, what do you do? What do you want to do? What do you want? What do you have? Who are you? What does the you that you want to be, that you’re created to be, do to decompress?

What a fun, hopeful, question rooted in limitless possibility. Ordinary? Not even close.

Super Soldier Serum

The site prompt is, “What would you do if you won the lottery?” And that makes me think of a line from the Marvel TV show The Falcon & The Winter Soldier. There’s a guy who is supposed to be the new Captain America, and he’s debating about whether or not he should take a super soldier serum (which sounds silly to write here, but it is a superhero show), and his buddy, Lamar, tells him, “power just makes you more of what you are.” That applies to money, too, obviously. I don’t necessarily ascribe to the theory that “absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

The full quote (from Lord Acton, the 13th Marquess of Groppoli – full disclosure, I don’t have any idea what a Marquess is or what/where/who Groppoli is, but I love that I could use it in real life) is, “Power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men, even when they exercise influence and not authority; still more when you superadd the tendency of the certainty of corruption by authority.” Power does tend to corrupt, but I can’t go with ‘absolute/always’ of the rest. But again, speaking of words, I’m using “superadd” immediately and often.

And this makes me think of Sunday morning, and our discussion on character and judgment. We could talk forever about these 2 topics, right?

Character is the x-factor that disproves the 13th Marquess of Groppoli, and reinforces Lamar’s comments. If a man has the kind of character traits Paul is listing to Titus, maybe that’s exactly the kind of person who should have power, who would use it in service, to help, to build, to defend, to give, to love. Maybe that’s exactly the kind of person who should take a super soldier serum.

But what if we don’t have that kind of character? You know I wanted to add, “…kind of character now, today?” That’s why judgment is so linked in my mind to character. Christ makes us new, so this very moment is the perfect opportunity to begin to superadd this kind of integrity.

Judgment is making decisions about someone’s essence. For instance, to use our terms from the message, when that boy/girl that behaves violently, full of bitterness, with anger, rage and hatred, he/she IS, in the deepest parts of themselves, that kind of person, and worse, will always be that kind of person. We lock them in a box they can never escape. When Jesus says, “Do not judge,” I think He means to open that box. Whether they climb out of the box built from their own actions, or not, is up to them and Jesus Christ, certainly not me. I can hope & pray they do. And maybe that box involves the consequences of those actions or our boundaries. But we no longer hold the key to another’s cell.

And then Jesus brilliantly turns our spotlight into a mirror. “Take the plank out of your own eye.” So, we no longer have the key to another’s cell, but we do have the key to our own. We can leave. We can start anew, and write a beautiful new story. We can allow and encourage others to do the same. We can become the people who can take the super soldier serum or win the lottery and use it to bless everyone, everywhere.