we must.....

 We often identify and reference the disciple Thomas as “doubting Thomas.”  To doubt suggests weakness, uncertainty…a total contrast to fellow disciple, the brash, loud, bold Peter. Yet it is Thomas who in the 11^th chapter of John’s gospel as Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem with those who want to kill him hot on his trail.  Into this travel plan it is Thomas who says, “Let us go to Jerusalem with him, so that we may die with him.”

 

To be honest, I would have been looking for a Godly GPS to say, “recalculating.”  Yet, that is not the route, nor the plan, nor the journey.

 

I was nine years old when my Gram died.  She was the first person I knew that died.  She lived with us.  She was a constant, steady presence. She asked me what I learned when I came home from school and directed me to the candy jar, she kept in her room.  She died in June, nearly summer, school was done for the year, and it was the time for days spent outside, going barefoot, swimming in the creek and playing catch.  Yet, there was an unannounced, felt and known pause.  There was a death in our family. Full stop...from where our story becomes measured by what happened before and what happened after. 

 

At the funeral home, I didn’t want to go near the casket, I refused and dug in my black, Mary-Jane shoes wearing feet. My father was with me, he tried to talk me into going up to the casket. I dug in stronger. “You must go. You need to say goodbye,”he said. 

 

Still, I refused. We were in the hallway of the funeral home, not even in the room where all the people were and the open casket of my Gram.  I wasn’t screaming, I had gone rigid, focused on the floor directly in front of me.  My dad nudged, then stood behind me and pushed, then tugged and pulled.  I got into the room and up to the casket. 

 

I saw my Gram.  Then I felt my mother next to me. I turned to her and felt her arms around me. 

 

They say a minister’s lot deals with death. Over the decades, I’ve had the honor to officiate and eulogize many. In a sense, my role as clergy is to be there with and alongside helping folks to journey this passage.

 

We remember and pause, a hard stop, on the death of Jesus. We must go near the cross.  We must look.  We must say goodbye. 

 

Wow!

In the classic film, A COLOR PURPLE, there is a scene where Shug and Celie are walking through a field bursting with purple flowers. Shug comments, “I think it pisses God off when you walk by the color purple in a field and don’t notice it.”  Me? I agree. Every time I walk past or see a purple flower --- hyacinth, iris, tulip or johnny-jump-up –- I always pause and give a wink…. good job, God!  Seriously I do this and have done so for years. In this particular spring season, I think many neighbors either think I’m practicing my flirting skills or I have dust in my contacts.

 

We need to notice more and acknowledge more, in nature and in one another. Simone Weil said, “Love’s first step is attention.”  Truth.  Watch first time parents and grandparents --- every turn, burp, lift, spit bubble is noted, celebrated and shared. As it should be.

 

Before social media, refrigerators were where one got the lowdown on the family. The fronts of fridges contained appointment reminder cards, newspaper clippings, magnets from the vacation to Niagara Falls, the Pirates schedule, and children’s artwork; one glance and you got the idea, a closer study and you began to learn the story and have occasion to share in conversation.

 

(I know I’m using a lot of quotes in this post…long day…..) yet, Anne Lamott has the very best definition of the spring season:  “Spring, when God tarts it up a bit.”  I love a God who is extravagant!  I love a God who gets a kick out of wowing us and eagerly awaits our “oohs and ahhs” when seeing the magnolia tree in full bloom, the bright blue of the sky and the red bird in the forsythia bush. 

 

We are all on notice…..

 

 

Who's your donkey?

 

Happy start of Holy Week ---

I was pondering what to write on for today (clearly I pondered a bit too long, yet, I'm getting this one in) and I've been thinking about my youngest nephew, who is expecting his first child in a month. My thoughts have been on him and I remember when he was just this little kid who always moved and lived in accord to his own rhythm, a free spirit, humorous, empathetic, so much his own person that his nickname, given when he was 5 years old, is Cheez.  

He tends to get focused on something and then goes all in. When he was a young boy, he loved donkeys which of course led to his family buying him shirts with donkeys on the front, posters of donkeys, plastic donkeys, ceramic donkeys......

On this Palm Sunday thoughts of donkeys seemed wonderfully appropriate.  Years ago in the very early steps on my faith journey, I read a story where the author focused on the role of the donkey in that first Palm Sunday by making it a metaphor for who are those persons, often un-sung, who helped to move your individual story further down the road toward fulfillment. I liked it.....

Examples of "my donkeys" would be: 

• Sarah Waltenbaugh, a pillar church member of my home congregation who every time I did anything in worship like read a prayer, lead the call to worship, offer the offertory prayer.....that Sunday after church she would call me and offer affirmation and appreciation.
• Mary Ann Balmer, youth leader, who when I stopped by her office to let her know that out of 150 applicants for 15 positions I was selected as Program Staff for the Conference Summer Camping Program.  She said, "I knew it! I knew you were going to get it because you are supposed to be there....you are...this will be an important summer for you."  Truth: it was during this summer that I received my call to ministry.
• Jan Porter who sent me a $25 check every month while I was in seminary.

Blessed be there are many, many more "donkeys in my stable," yet this is a blog post not a novel. 

 

The point is for all to take a moment sometime today, or, this week and ponder who are the  persons who may have been previously overlooked in regard to the more obvious ones, yet, whom without one's journey would not have gone where it is currently and continues.  

See them.  Thank them.  Respond by helping another person to move forward in their journey.