Great Expectations

Bellybutton lint; pocket lint; dryer lint; lint filters; lint rollers; there’s even a “National Lint Project” – if you don’t believe me, you can check it out at http://www.studiocapezzuti.com/lint/lintguys.htm

I started thinking about lint this morning, on this first day of Lent, as I was tidying up my desk, doing a little spring cleaning as it were, removing some of the lint that had accumulated in little corners and crevices.  And I wondered where lint comes from.

The internet is a wonderful and bizarre place, and with just a few clicks, I knew far more about lint than I truly ever wanted to know.  Lint is mostly made up of fuzzy fibers – fibers that used to be part of some article of clothing or other fabric, and have jettisoned for some mysterious reason.  Individually, a piece of lint is nothing to worry about, but collectively, lint can take on a life of its own (did you check out the “National Lint Project”?!).  And lint attracts even more lint.

Lint makes clothes look shabby, assists in the production of dust bunnies, and sometimes start fires in the clothes dryer.  It is a good idea to get rid of lint before it reaches that point.

You may think I am making WAY too big a deal out of lint.  Well, I was thinking about Lent, and how the tiniest of things, over time, can start to accumulate in the corners and crevices of my spiritual life.  After a while I hardly notice how messy the place has become – maybe a shabby prayer life here, the production of unkind thoughts there – and I am well on the way to something combustible!  So, Lent is a time to really take a look, and tidy up; use the disciplines that help remove those stubborn little fibers that just want to hang around; do some spiritual spring cleaning. Read the Bible. Pray. Go to church.  That’s a good start.

And just because I do some cleaning this year doesn’t mean I won’t ever have to clean again.  I’m sure of it!  And I know I will have to clean the exact same places – over and over again.

But then, that is what Lent is for.

Happy cleaning!

I love jigsaw puzzles. 

I come by it honest.  My dad loved jigsaw puzzles, and both my brother and I love them.  (It has yet to be demonstrated if my children have inherited the jigsaw gene, but I remain hopeful!)

There is an art to putting together a jigsaw puzzle.  After sifting out all the “puzzle dust” I find all the edge pieces.  And in the process, when I find the corner pieces, I have a little mini celebration.  Corner pieces are very exciting.  More celebration is in order as I complete the first edge – giving me one of the dimensions, either the length or height of the puzzle.  When all the edge pieces are together, this calls for greater celebration, for now I know how big this puzzle is going to be!  Then I group together the inside pieces according to their color.  The group of “sky” pieces is usually the largest.

When working on a jigsaw puzzle, fun usually has a companion called frustration.  Frustration shows up when I can’t find that one piece I have been looking for.  It is at this point I will typically say something like, “This puzzle is defective!  The store sold me a puzzle with a piece missing!  I’m taking it back to the store and getting my money back!”  That is when someone (usually someone who does NOT love jigsaw puzzles) walks up, looks at the pieces for about 3 seconds, picks up a piece and plops it right in the spot I was hoping to fill.  “Is that the piece you were looking for?” they innocently quip.

I think they were hiding it up their sleeve.

Recently, I was going through some old toys – trying to get rid of some of the things my kids no longer use or want.  The things that still have some usefulness left in them were placed aside to bring to the church for the youth yard sale.  While cleaning out a closet I came across two little jigsaw puzzles (and by little, I mean under 100 pieces).  I asked one of my sons to put them together to see if all the pieces were there.  He quickly put the first one together.  And indeed, all the pieces were there.  It was a complete picture.  Now, someone else could take those pieces and put them together and see the same picture.  All the pieces went back in the box, and we put tape on it to hold it together – so none of the pieces would be lost.

Out came the next puzzle.  But pretty soon, it was evident that some of the pieces were missing.  The picture was incomplete – and no one looking at it would ever know the full scope of what it should look like; no one, no matter how hard they tried, would be able to put it together to make a complete picture.  Sadly, the pieces were tossed into the recycle bin along with the box in which they had come. 

This thing we call “the church” is kind of like a jigsaw puzzle.  Each one of us has a piece of the puzzle to give.  God has gifted you in ways like no one else.  Some of you are corner pieces; some of you may be edge pieces; and some of you might be a piece of blue sky.  You may think that your piece isn’t as important as some other piece.  But it is.  Without you the picture is incomplete.  And the world around us can’t see the beauty of the full picture.

There is a lot more to this metaphor, about the shape of each piece, and how sometimes a piece almost fits – but really belongs somewhere else; about pieces that have very distinct parts of the picture, and pieces that do not; about the glaring hole when a piece is missing, compared to hardly noticeable pieces when the picture is whole.  But I will leave those things for you to ponder.

I have a puzzle to work on!

I have been thinking a lot about our voices these weeks after Easter as church attendance typically, and predictably, drops a bit.  I wonder why some people only show up at church for Christmas and Easter.  Of course, if you are reading this, you are probably not one of those people.  But perhaps you know someone like that – or perhaps there are some Sundays that you wonder why you are getting up and going to church.

Worship is about God.  It’s not about you and all the benefits you may receive by coming to worship; rather, it is about responding and gathering to direct our thoughts and voices to God.  To that end, you are the only one who can offer your voice to God.  When we say prayers together and sing together, it sounds different to God when you are present.  God can pick out your voice, and loves to hear your voice in the midst of the people. 

God loves it when you are so focused on him, that you speak and sing without thinking about what anyone around you may be thinking.  God loves to pick out the sound of your voice in the congregation.  Your voice makes a difference.

I look forward to hearing these lessons, probably because of all the sweet Sunday School images they conjure up: a nice, neat looking Jesus cradling a soft little white lamb; or a nice, neat looking Jesus carrying a big fluffy sheep on his shoulders.

But in reality, shepherds’ work was dirty work – and sheep smell.  And it was hard work to get sheep to move along to greener pastures.  It was the job of the shepherd to keep the sheep safe, and keep them moving to areas where they would find food.  Because sheep, if left alone, will eat all the grass in a pasture – down to the roots, and kill it.  Unless they are moved to a greener pasture, the sheep will just stay right there, and starve.

In the book “Living With Sheep,” Chuck Wooster & Geoff Hansen write:

“Sheep, like many humans, prefer to eat dessert first.  Turn them out in a pasture that has some nice, tasty alfalfa interspersed with some decent grass and an occasional thorny thistle, and they’ll eat the alfalfa.  Then they’ll work on the grass.  But they’ll never eat the thistle… they’ll eat everything else down to its roots and kill it in the process.  Your sheep can starve, because they’ve ‘high-graded’ the pasture by taking the best and leaving the rest.”

The really Good Shepherd gets down and dirty with us, protects and cares for us, and wants to move us to greener pastures so we don’t starve.

It makes me wonder, have I gotten comfortable in this pasture?  Am I eating it down to the ground? Am I just taking the good stuff, and leaving the hard and difficult teachings? Where is Jesus trying to lead me right now?

These are good questions for each of us, individually – and as a church.  Are we comfortable where we are?  Or, are we willing to let the Good Shepherd lead us to greener pastures?

People with passionate hearts for God, and people who want passionate hearts for God.

When I think of passionate worship, I think of many things – like enthusiastic singing, celebration of the sacraments, multi-generations participating together, emotional and physical responses, and a large dose of delight.  And as I reflect on people who have crossed my path who are truly passionate worshipers, one person stands out in my mind as a passionate worshiper with a passionate heart for God.

The story of Ian

Ian is the son of the organist at a church in Idaho.  When Ian was 18, after finishing High School, he kind of felt lost at the church and was looking for a group to connect with.  One day, Ian’s mother came in to rehearsal and announced with some trepidation, “Ian wants to join the choir… but Ian can’t sing!”  You see, Ian is autistic. 

And it was true – Ian couldn’t sing!  But he was warmly welcomed into the choir anyway.  And what happened after that was a miracle.  Because Ian wasn’t concerned about what other people might think about him, Ian was comfortable expressing his love and worship to God.  All those around him, and all those in the congregation were witness to Ian’s deep love for God.  People were blessed; lives were affected.  What a beautiful miracle.

I bet you thought it was going to end up that Ian could sing after all.  Nope. (Although, his range of “notes” did increase a bit.)

The moral of this true story is that passionate worship isn’t concerned with what anyone else will think.  Worship is for God.  Period.  It only matters what God thinks – and if you are expressing your love and adoration of God, God will be pleased.

Blessings,

Julie

The first day of class I would always go around the room and ask what kind of musical experiences each student had, and what kind of music they liked and disliked.  Experiences ranged from playing in band in Junior High and High School to playing in a garage band to just playing the radio.  And while there was usually a wide variety of likes, the dislikes were usually rap… and opera.  I didn’t have the heart to tell them at that point opera was part of the curriculum (I knew that information would not be well received).  But what I did tell them was that we would be listening to a lot of music, and this kind of listening was going to be different.  The kind of listening they had most likely done in the past was passive listening.  What they were going to have to do for the class was active listening. 

What’s the difference, you may ask? 

Passive listening is more like hearing – as I write this I can hear cars and trucks driving past on Six Forks, I hear people talking in the office, the sound of the phone ringing (not mine), and the furnace.  Active listening is really listening – paying attention, blocking out the other sounds, trying to figure out exactly what it is that you hear.  And often it takes listening more than once to hear everything there is to be heard.  The more you actively listen, the more you will hear, and your experience will become richer!

So what does this have to do with this week’s focus on intentional faith development?

Much like passive listening, we sometimes come to church on Sunday morning and just hear the message and the music, but when we walk out the door we barely remember what we just heard; sometimes we read the Bible and our devotional books, but once we put them down we can hardly remember what it is we just read.  We have been passive in our worship and in our study.  Now, there may be days when just getting to church is a major achievement, or just picking up the Bible and reading something is an accomplishment.  But if you will go to the effort to be intentional – to be actively involved in deepening your relationship with God, you will be rewarded with a much richer experience.

I always looked forward to the end of the term.  Not because it was over – but because one of the questions I put on the final exam was, “Essay Question:  As you look back over what you have learned and listened to this term, what has surprised you the most? (worth 10 points).”  Every term, I had at least a couple of students say – I appreciate opera (and maybe even like it), because now I know how to listen to it.

Bravo!

Julie

I have gone to maybe one or two.  They were tolerable, at best; and just confusing and uncomfortable at worst.  I didn’t know the people there, I didn’t know the stories that everyone found so funny, I didn’t understand the family connections.  I felt like such an outsider!  I had no shared memories with these people, I couldn’t appreciate the tradition of Aunt Somebody’s family recipes, or find any excitement around the activities that were clearly part of the annual ritual.

I was there not as a participant, but rather as an observer.

Until…

One of the family members came along side me and started to explain everything, and introduce me to everyone, and begin that process of bringing me up to speed with the stories and traditions and rituals.  She made me feel welcome in the midst of these strangers.  By the end of the day I almost felt like part of the family!

I came to St. Mark’s nearly nine months ago, and felt so warmly welcomed. It took no time for me to feel like part of this family.  But I have to confess – I came to you already part of the family; we already shared some family history, at least the important part of our family history: We are brothers and sisters in Christ.  And while I didn’t (and still don’t!) know everyone’s names, or all of the traditions and rituals that are unique to St. Mark’s, I am surrounded by people who have come along side me and made me feel like I am among family and friends.

But, the church in general, is not always such a warm and welcoming place.  In fact, for many people, their experience of a new church is anything but welcoming.  There are churches, and smaller groups within churches (like choirs, Sunday School classes, social groups) that have been together for so long with the same people, that when they get together it is like a little mini-family reunion.  They exclaim, “We love each other!  We are so happy to see each other and be together!  We know so much about each other and care for one another, and lift each other up in our prayers!”  None of these are bad things! Yet their close friendship appears quite closed to anyone who has not been a part of their gathering for an extended period of time.  Several years ago, I had a good friend lament to me about the “us” and “them” mentality of the church she had been attending for many years, saying “No matter what I do, or how long I have been there I will never be a Charter Member!”  She was being made to feel like an outsider even within her church home.

Another friend told me a story of how she had fallen away from the church for many years, but decided one Easter that she felt the desire to start going to church again.  She got up the courage to go the big downtown church; walked in and sat down.  That is when she overheard two people – obviously regular attendees of the church – sitting right behind her.  One said to the other, “It’s so unfair that all these visitors show up and sit in our good seats.  They should have their own section in the back of the church.”  She got up, walked out, and didn’t return to any church for nearly 10 years.

In the wonderful and small book, Contemporary Worship for the 21^st Century by Daniel Benedict and Craig Kennet Miller, one sentence has been emblazoned in my mind since first reading it almost nine years ago.  They write:

“Do we stand up and lean forward to welcome the seekers or do we stay seated in our pew and complain when they stumble over us as they try to find their place?”

I am telling these stories as words of both congratulations and caution. 

St. Mark’s is great at helping people feel welcome.  I have seen very little of exclusive and unwelcoming attitudes here.  But, it is easy to unintentionally slip up.  It feels good to be comfortable with our family as we tell stories and participate in our traditions and rituals; so let’s be constantly on the look out for anyone who may need someone to come along side, and do all that we can to welcome them into our midst so that they can become full participants in God’s family – both here at St. Mark’s, and in the world.

Blessings,

Julie

I’m glad it’s not my job to sort the sheep from the goats.  Having grown up in suburbia, I have little experience in farm animals (although I can make some pretty impressive animal noises – if I do say so myself).  My great Aunt and Uncle lived on a small farm, and as a child I would visit from time to time.  There were cows and chickens; a couple of pigs; and turkeys – mean turkeys; but no sheep or goats from which to draw any kind of personal insight.

That’s why I am thankful for the internet.

Apparently, it is difficult to tell some sheep and goats apart, unless you know what you are looking for.  Sheep tails go down, goat tails go up… most of the time.  Some goats have horns… and some sheep do too.  Goats have beards, and sheep do not… but sometimes goat beards get trimmed so you can’t always rely on that either.  Some people say that sheep and goats sound different.  (I have listened to more sheep and goat sound samples than I care to admit, and I am no closer to being able to distinguish the distinct sounds of goats and sheep.)  I do know that there are other significant differences, like how many chromosomes they have, and differences in breeding seasons.  I’m sure I could draw some kind of brilliant theological conclusion from all those things, but I have already spent way too much time just listening to sheep and goat noises.  So, here is the important thing I have learned about sheep and goats: their actions are different.  Goats eat anything that is easy to get to; they are curious, and will jump over a fence to get to something that has caught their attention; and they are much more independent.  Sheep?  Not so much.  Sheep will graze over an area until there is absolutely nothing left to eat – and still not move unless the shepherd moves them along to greener pastures.  Sheep are more cautious; less inquisitive.

Still, I’m glad it’s not my job to separate the sheep and the goats.

But the shepherd knows the difference.  The shepherd is intimately familiar with sheep and goats – knowing what to look for and listen to. The shepherd knows their temperaments and feeding habits; his life is all about knowing and caring for the sheep and the goats.  He has watched them, and knows the difference in their actions.

The scripture passage goes on with the familiar text:

“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Enter, you who are blessed by my Father! Take what’s coming to you in this kingdom. It’s been ready for you since the world’s foundation. And here’s why:
   I was hungry and you fed me,
   I was thirsty and you gave me a drink,
   I was homeless and you gave me a room,
   I was shivering and you gave me clothes,
   I was sick and you stopped to visit,
   I was in prison and you came to me.’

“Then those ’sheep’ are going to say, ‘Master, what are you talking about? When did we ever see you hungry and feed you, thirsty and give you a drink? And when did we ever see you sick or in prison and come to you?’ Then the King will say, ‘I’m telling the solemn truth: Whenever you did one of these things to someone overlooked or ignored, that was me-you did it to me.’”  Matthew 25:24-40 The Message

This coming Sunday is Christ the King Sunday – the last Sunday of the church year.  It is a time in which our lessons encourage us to be ready for the coming of Christ.  Over the past few weeks we have heard the parable of the 10 Bridesmaids with their oil lamps, waiting for the arrival of the Bridegroom; we have heard the parable of the wealthy man entrusting his estate to his servants while he is away, with the understanding that they would continue to care for his property until his return; and this week, we hear about sheep and goats, and what the shepherd sees.

The shepherd knows the difference, because he sees their actions.  But here is the thing, sheep and goats act the way they do because they are sheep and goats.  It’s their natural state of being – their nature.

We talk a lot in church about the old nature; but we also believe that Christ gives us a new nature, and that spending time in reading scripture, praying, study, worship, and fellowship helps to transform us so that our natural state of being is less like our old nature and more like Christ’s nature. 

Less goat-like.

May we be good sheep.

Blessings! ~ Julie