Monthly Archives: March 2017

A Little Writing in the Sand

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In John’s gospel, it doesn’t take long for things to heat up. Blink an eye and Jesus is already getting into trouble. From the wedding at Cana (John 2), Jesus heads to the Temple in Jerusalem and drives out the moneychangers, snapping a whip and overturning their tables. See what I mean? From the get go, there’s tension with the religious leaders.

The tension continues and continues to intensify. Jesus heals the man at the Bethesda pool and pronounces him a forgiven man. “This was why the religious leaders were seeking all the more to kill him.” When he proclaims strange words about eating his body and drinking his blood to receive life, the leaders understandably take offense. When he goes to Jerusalem to celebrate Sukkoth, the leaders are ready to arrest Jesus. And we haven’t even gotten to the end of chapter 7.

Then Jesus  shows his face again at the Temple. Ok, more than just shows his face. He sits down and holds a little bible study. Before long a crowd gathers.* The religious leaders catch wind of the impromptu meeting and with the snap of their fingers hatch an unassailable plan to catch Jesus red-handed. They will stretch him on the rack between his penchant for mercy and the requirements of the law.

So, they find a woman caught in the act of adultery, strong arm her into the midst of the outdoor lecture hall, and set their trap. Here are the facts, they say. This woman has been caught in the act. Her guilt is clear. The Law says she must be stoned. The Law of Moses. The highest authority in our tradition. Tell us what you would do.

The details of what happens next often go unnoticed. First, Jesus bends down and writes on the ground with his finger. Maybe the text of the commandment? Now he stands up and speaks. I think he was giving them conditional permission to begin the stoning. With one caveat. The one without sin can cast the first stone. I want to imagine that what he said was even juicier than that. I want to imagine that he was giving permission to begin the execution to anyone who was without THIS sin.

Because you notice what he does next? And you notice their reaction? He bends down again and starts writing in the dirt again. And “one by one” — did you notice how specific the text is about that? “One by one” the accusers walk away.

Here’s a thought. Admittedly a speculative thought. But there’s a certain logic to it. What he was writing in the sand — one by one — was the names of their girlfriends.

There’s a large lesson here about the magnanimous character of God’s grace and forgiveness. I am not deserving of the gift of grace and the forgiveness of sins, even the repeated sins I can’t seem to shake off. Yet, I am forgiven. Grace abounds!

And there’s a micro lesson for how I get around in the world.

I have a pretty strong sense of justice. Right and wrong matters to me. When I see someone gaming the system, I get angry. When I see another mistreated, my blood boils. And I often find that the faults I am so quick to notice in others are the ones I hate the most in myself. I’m irritated when others are late for meetings, rarely stopping to wonder what might have gone wrong. When I’m late, there’s always a good reason. It’s easy to notice my wife’s irritability and call her out on it. When I’m irritable, I have a good reason for it. Speeding down Roosevelt Road, cutting in and out of the traffic lanes? The other guy’s a jerk and a menace to all of us. I’m late for an appointment.

Apparently grace is not just something to be received, it’s something I’m called to practice.

*You can find the story in John 7:53-8:11. I know it’s not in the most reliable manuscripts. That doesn’t mean it’s not a great story.

In Praise of Praise

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flyfareellAs the time draws near to take leave of my current call, the days are full and my mind is even more full. In the congregation, there is a never-ending list of details in order to tie up loose ends with the staff, congregational leadership, program, worship, and so many other things. We have our house on the market and when a request comes in to show the house, we have to drop what we’re doing and go home for last minute tidying and vacating our dogs. We are also in the early stages of purchasing a home in Door County, and all the thousands of things on the checklist of a home purchase. You get the picture. A lot going on.

Yet this is also a critical time for me and for the people of Faith to do a good job of saying goodbye. 

Last week, I went to my last church council meeting. We went up the the sanctuary — our version of holy ground — for a ritual of leave-taking. I sat on a chair in front of the altar and one by one, each council member stepped forward, placed a hand or two on my shoulder and recounted something they have appreciated about my ministry and then offered a blessing or good wish for my future. The time concluded with all of them laying hands on me for a prayer of thanksgiving and blessing.

The next evening our Director of Youth Ministry, organized a going away party so that our high school and middle school youth would have a chance to say goodbye in their own setting. Having been here for 15 years, I have baptized a good number of them, which means for them, I have been their pastor for their entire life. We played some silly games, ate together, laughed a lot, and some of the high school kids spoke very specifically about what my ministry has meant to them. The evening ended again with laying on of hands and prayer.

In the nearly month since I announced I was leaving my email inbox has been full of notes of gratitude and remembering. I’m getting them in the mail, too. And in the hallway. And at the door of the nave on Sunday mornings.

It probably sounds like I’m trying to tell you know what a great pastor I’ve been. But that’s not the point.

The morning after the council meeting, Deb Hornell, our congregation president, my friend, colleague, and sometimes coach and mentor, emailed me with this message: “I hope you are able to absorb all the love, gratitude and good wishes coming your way. It struck me last night after Council laid hands on you how emotionally intense this process must be, and also how wonderful for you to experience what you mean to everyone. Few people get the chance to hear how they’ve made a difference for others.”

It’s that last sentence that really grabbed me. I think Deb is right. What I am experiencing is pretty unique. Not many people get the chance to hear how specifically they have made a difference in the lives of other people. For a lot of folks, the nice things that others say about them don’t get said until their funeral. How sad that they never get to hear them in life. All of this has been so wonderful and so wonderfully affirming. I have tried to record much of it in my journaling just so I don’t forget the impact of the experience. Quite simply, it is beautiful and priceless for people to tell you that you have made a difference in their life.

What could happen if we all took a little time in the ordinariness of the day to day to affirm the people who have touched our lives and made our journey more beautiful and vivid and meaningful?

It’s akin to a spiritual practice, and it makes a difference. I have encouraged my staff to join me in sitting down on Monday morning after a busy Sunday and write a few notes to the people who have touched them in the past week or who have gone beyond what they were required or who they witnessed doing something nice for someone else. The last thing on the agenda of our staff meetings has been “Blessings.” We have made space to tell each other when someone has done something well or gone beyond what was required. A culture of gratitude and affirmation is a pretty nice place to live.

So, if you’re still with me, will you do this? Sit down and write an email or, even better, a hand-written note to someone who has touched your life for the good. Tell them specifically what they have done and what it has meant to you. And would you agree to make that a regular practice in your life? As one on the receiving end, I can tell you that it means more than you will ever know.