Loss and Salvation

Last Friday morning we made an unexpected trip to the vet. The night before I noticed that our always petite cat, Snitch, was looking more emaciated than petite and wasn't acting like herself - aloof as that may have been. There was a 2 hour delay that morning, so the kids and I went together to the vet. In the back of my mind was the reality of the situation. I knew, I think, what this morning would bring, but I still wasn't prepared for it.

When Dr. Megan came back with the lab results and gave us a grim prognosis, the reality hit us all. My daughter - the smartest almost ten year old I know - understood all too easily what we were going to have to do. All three of us cried together as we sat together in the exam room saying goodbye to our 5.5 year old prissy little furball.

Several times now I've wondered at the absurdity of saying goodbye to someone(thing) for the absolute last time. I've done it with ill people I have encountered in ministry. Words failed me as I handed Snitch over to Dr. Brooks. It was an entirely surreal moment to know she would soon be gone. She wasn't going to sit on the back of our couch anymore. She wasn't going to walk above our heads in bed while she looked for Sydney again. She wasn't going to carry the little, stuffed, pink guinea pig around in her mouth while she whined for the girl who wasn't home.

The reality of the situation only started to sink in as we drove home; Sydney crying, Cole quiet, me on the edge of tears, Laurel on her way to meet us at home.
As I went on to Facebook for the ever popular request-by-status for prayers and announcement of our loss, I encountered a friend's timely status about the loss of beloved pets.

in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself,1 not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us. (2 Corinthians 5:19 NRSV)

The next day I saw a link to the church sign argument over whether there are pets in heaven - including the claim that pets have no soul.

In this time of pain - watching my daughter struggle - I was reminded of a God who acts not as we understand, but as God chooses to act.

I could join the argument to try to define what God will do, or I could accept that God is going to do what we are unable to fully comprehend in this life. God claimed and reconciled the whole world - not just what we want God to claim and reconcile.

I choose not to worry about what will happen in the afterlife in regards to Snitch (or Jinx and Dribble who preceded her). I choose to trust that God is caring for all of us - the whole world. I choose to watch for that love in the face of my daughter as she learns to live with only one cat in the house. I choose to remember that nothing will separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus. That's all I need to know about what comes later.

Road Trip

I'm writing a day later than my plan because I didn't have a good chance to think and post last night. I was busy enjoying a weekend at Ocean City with 500 youth and adults of the Delaware-Maryland Synod. It was a really energizing (and tiring - how do you like that paradox?) weekend of leading a small group, spending time with Zion kids (always a good thing), and experiencing way more hip hop than my comfort can handle.

I'm reminded of my recent experience with Tiger McLuen in which I was told that many adults are no longer "hip, cool, and relevant." If I had doubted Tiger (which I hadn't), this weekend proved his point. Do I like hip hop? Nope, never have. Yes, I have listened happily to the occasional catchy song (Gangsta's Paradise comes to mind) but I don't make a habit of listening to it. In fact I retreated to classical music and Les Mis when hip hop began to dominate pop music in the late 80's and early 90's.

I did learn a few important things this weekend (other than my rapid aging - reinforced this morning when Kurt Cobain was referenced during a message and a high schooler leaned over to me and said, "Who's Kurt Cobain?).

1. No matter if you like the music or not, worship with 500 people - especially when they're mostly under the age of 18 - is fun and meaningful.

2. Despite evidence to the contrary, young people crave relationships with each other and adults who care about them. They can learn to seek "radical friendships" that mean more than how many friends you can amass on Facebook.

3. Nothing can separate us from the love of Christ. NOTHING. And with that power comes great responsibility.

I really didn't mind listening to Agape all weekend as I was able to enjoy some very deep songs and a creative way to spread the gospel. I even enjoyed looking completely ridiculous attempting to dance. The best part of it all was knowing that for at least one weekend, each of those 500 people knew that God would hear them rejoice (and again I say rejoice). And maybe, just maybe we'll be able to find that joy in the regular world, Aight?

Biblical illiteracy

In order to avoid the chance of preaching my colleague into a corner, I chose to preach only on the first half of tomorrow's Gospel reading. It is the introduction of Jesus by John in which he declares,

Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! (John 1:29)

I'm not preaching on the second half of the assigned reading in which John records the account of Jesus calling his first disciples.

Since I'm not preaching on that half of the reading, and because next week we'll hear Matthew's version of the "same" event, we chose to only read through verse 37. It's an interesting quandary. It seems counter-intuitive, but perhaps it is more effective to read less of the Bible in worship (while trying to include the variety of the lectionary offerings) than to continue to include as many as 4 readings each week. In a world that has become dependent on Facebook and Twitter, the volume of readings in a worship service seems to make engagement a challenge.

The lectionary was created to introduce breadth to our experience with the Bible. It's a good idea, but maybe it isn't going to make a difference in a culture that depends on sound bytes. I fear we lose the intended audience after 3 or 4 sentences. This is not to suggest that people are incapable of engaging, but we are conditioned to move way to fast for our own good. Perhaps biblical breadth is more effectively created by daily engagement in the Word rather than depending on Sunday morning worship. Of course that's easier said than done as well...

I'm a delinquent rambler...

Going almost a year without writing here is perhaps far beyond delinquent. It occurred to me today that I no longer write anything of any depth. I've recently moved to crafting sermons in outline form rather than manuscript form which means I'm making progress on more casual, conversational sermons. But I'm writing much less. It's not necessarily a "problem" at this point, but I've always had a love affair with the concept of writing - not necessarily the actuality of writing. I fear that if I don't begin writing somewhere, I'll never develop any skill in it.

So, I'm going to try to develop a discipline of writing. For now, this will be the outlet. Who knows where my efforts will lead me...

I'll start simply tonight and offer a brief commentary on the events of the day. Diana Butler Bass has called out preachers across the country to figure out how the tragic events in Arizona (the shooting of Rep. Giffords and others) intersect with the celebration of Jesus' baptism. I'm not one to completely rewrite a sermon on Saturday night. It will make me extremely uncomfortable - and not in a good way.

Perhaps I will try to craft an introduction to the sermon that draws the congregation's attention to the events of the nation in light of what I'm about to say about baptism...I don't know.

What I'm thinking about the connection between inexcusable and inexplicable violence and baptismal theology is that I fear we may never understand the true nature of God's grace. I attended a training this morning in anticipation of a youth event that focuses on our response to the foundation of our lives: that we are loved completely and unconditionally by a God who chose to save us despite of ourselves. I wish we could somehow convince the world that we are dependent on God and each other, not ourselves.

God claimed us as children. That should be our identity; not our political party affiliation. Our outlook on the world should be filled with the grace that God shows to us.