WE ARE WHO WE ARE

Contrary to an old, old commercial it's not what's up front that counts. I have long since forgotten the product but only remember the commercial's punch line. Being up front, visible, seen, isn't always, if ever, what is most important. As with a really beautiful woman: beauty lies not in what's up front – face and figure – but what's beneath, inside. What's up front may be enticing. But often what's up front conceals rather than reveals.

It is very tempting for us to want to, and in fact to actually put on false fronts so that we seem to appear other than we are because we somehow seem to feel that that is what is expected of us or that that is what is necessary to get ahead, to succeed. And it may work for a while; but sooner or later the charade has to cease. When it does, the real person hiding behind that false front, hidden behind the mask, that real person will eventually emerge, perhaps much to our immediate dismay but certainly to our everlasting relief. Playing games with reality may be fun, exciting, even dangerous, for a while. But in the long run it only causes grief.

That real person is the one deep inside us: the one with all those good qualities, and some bad faults as well. For no one of us is perfect. No one of us is better than anyone else. We are all equal as people. And that is what really counts – not what is up front. But that is only for starters. That is where we begin. For we cannot begin to become what we have the potential to become until we realize that, even with our failings and shortcomings, we are fantastic people – God's children. Behind that false front, underneath that mask is a child of God.

I know: we've heard all that before. Pious words, encouraging words, but words nevertheless. And words simply do not do it sometimes. Right? We can all preach a good sermon. Living it is another matter. We can all profess a great faith. Living out that faith is much more difficult. We can all believe that the internal is much more important that the external; but sometimes we are not so sure.

We are constantly bombarded by hucksters selling us their brand of, their formula for success, be it through personal enrichment courses, wearing the right clothes, or even turning to Jesus and having him as our personal Lord and Savior. The solutions to success all seem easy, simple and the thing to do. They are not. The only way we are a success is by being the person God created us to be; not by listening to Madison Avenue – or to anyone else who would like to make us into their own image and likeness. We can't be like someone else. We can only be ourselves.

We can't even be like Jesus. We can learn from him but we cannot be like him. That may sound heretical if not pure hogwash. But I don't think it is. You see, trying to be like someone else prevents us from being and becoming the person God created us as. For what our faith teaches us, what Jesus taught us – and still does through the Scriptures – is that we are to be who we are and not who or what someone else is or what others want us to be.

The Army wants us to be all that we can be in the Army. Well, wherever. The only way we can be all that we can be is by being ourselves and not someone else. Jesus taught us that. He was who he was and no one else. He didn't try to be what society said he should be. He didn't try to be what his disciples wanted him to be. He was himself, no more and no less. So must we. And that's what really counts, now and always.

DEATH TO LIFE

We are all born to live to die to live again. We do it every day. Every day we are born anew, live a full day's life, and then end that day as we fall off to sleep. In sleep the day is done. The day is dead. And tomorrow there is new life. Tomorrow there is resurrection.

It is an endless cycle until the final resurrection, until eternity. Until then we die a thousand deaths. In fact, each passing moment is life-death-resurrection-to-new-life. Each part of that cycle is important. Each leads to the next. Each depends on the other.           

Easter is the celebration of Jesus's new life, a life that would not and did not come without Good Friday, without his death. That is what makes what happened on Friday in some/any way good. Murder is never good. The unjust murder of an innocent person is never good. The only good is that for the one murdered there is resurrection to new life. That may not be a comforting thought when in the midst of the grief of the tragedy, but it is still the truth.

           
And sometimes that knowledge is the only belief, the only truth that gets us through the moment, through the grief, through all those unanswered and unanswerable questions. Perhaps that is why as Christians, as those who celebrate the events of Holy Week, we don't dwell on Good Friday, on Jesus's death. We are thankful for it, to be sure. But we know that in Jesus’ death there is the forgiveness of our sins; in his death there is the promise of new life for us.           

Easter is a joyful celebration and reminder that death always leads to life, new life and, it is to be hoped, a better life. We always hope that tomorrow will be better than today, no matter how good today has been. We certainly hope tomorrow will be better if today has seemed like Good Friday. And tomorrow can be because tomorrow brings new life, brings resurrection.

          
Easter is also a reminder that it is not all up to us to make tomorrow better. If it were, we would fail. The reason that our todays sometimes seem so bad, seem like Good Fridays, is that we all too often want to be in control instead of allowing God to help us though the day, even through the bad. Jesus did not raise himself. He was raised from the dead, from death to new life by and in and through God.

We do not discover new life, make new life, all on our own. It is God who gives us each new day. It is God who resurrects us to new life each new day. And it should be with and in and through God that we meet each new day. That may sound and seem so simple. And it is. Unfortunately, if you are like me, it becomes more difficult to do because I want to be in charge of the resurrection process and in charge of the new day. So often I only call on God when I've made a mess of today. And then my only hope is that tomorrow, with God’s help, is a new day, a new Easter.

Easter comes every day for you and for me. As God was in charge of that first Easter, so we need to allow God to be in charge of our daily Easters. Then maybe we won’t have so many bad Fridays that need God’s help to be made into Easter Sundays.

NONE OF OUR HANDS ARE INNOCENT

As we come closer to the celebration – yes, celebration! – of Good Friday, it might be good for each of us to remember, realize and confess that we had a hand in Jesus’ death. That's the bad news. Henri Nouwen in his prayer Heart Speaks to Heart puts it this way.
  
"O Jesus, I look into my own heart and at my own hands….And can I truly say that my hands are clean? So often have they been instruments of greed and lust, of impatience and anger, of accusation and recrimination. I know they have often been used to strike instead of caress; I know they have often formed fists instead of making a sign of peace and reconciliation. I know how often they have taken instead of given and have pointed an accusing finger at others instead of beating my own breast. I know how often they have made signs of cursing instead of signs of peace. There is blood on my hands, too, even when I do not see it. I cannot wash my hands in innocence. Sinful, guilty and deeply ashamed, I can only stand under your cross, knowing that my hands are the hands of a blood-stained humanity."
        
That's the bad news: no one of us is innocent. We all have blood on our hands, Jesus's blood. The good news is that we have been forgiven. The paradox is that if we had not participated in Jesus's death, there would be no forgiveness of our sins. No, I don't understand it any more than you do. How can we? I – we – simply believe it. We believe in the forgiveness of our sins through Jesus's death on the cross.
        
And so we can all give thanks that in spite of our continued and continual sinfulness, a life of sin that will never end until this life ends, we are still, always, forgiven. No, I don't understand that any more than you do, either. How can we always be forgiven: always, no matter what?
           
The answer is the Cross. The only answer is the cross and God’s unconditional love for each and every one of us. Anything else, any other answer, any other explanation, comes up short. The death of God the Son on the cross, for you and for me is the only explanation possible. Left to our own understanding, left, especially, to our own personal experiences of sin and forgiveness, we'd all be left out in the dark. We don't so easily forgive others let alone easily forgive ourselves. But God does; always.
           
It makes no sense, of course, in this world where a crime demands, calls out, for a punishment; a sin calls out, cries out, demands at least an eye for an eye. If we think turning the other cheek is a tough sell, try forgiving everyone all the time with no demand for retribution or punishment. That won't play in Peoria – or anywhere else for that matter.
 
Except at the foot of the cross, where we all stand, looking up at the One who is hanging there, dying for our sins, yours and mine, and says to God, "Father, forgive them. They really don't know what they are doing. Father, forgive them, even if they do know what they are doing." That is why Good Friday and what happened on Good Friday is truly a cause for celebration.

TO LOVE IS TO SUFFER

No one likes to be in pain, any kind of pain: physical, mental, emotional, whatever. Yes, there are those who like to play the martyr, but those who do deserve the pain they are in. True martyrs accept the pain that is inflicted because they are enduring what they are doing because of a higher cause, such as those who suffered gross indignities, physical pain and even death during the Civil Rights Movement in the 60’s. They were, indeed, true martyrs to the cause.

A martyr, of course, is a witness, which is the real meaning of the word that has devolved into meaning someone who dies for one’s faith or beliefs. But one does not have to die to be a witness. In fact, sometimes being a living witness is more difficult and more painful than actually dying for one’s beliefs. There are those who suffer for years because of what they believe. For them often death might seem to be the easy way out.

The further truth is that anyone who loves is a martyr in the sense that to love is to suffer. Think about it. Think about the things we do for love. Many of them involve suffering, often painful suffering. Raising children is never easy and is often painful. We get out of bed at two in the morning because our child is in pain. We stay awake until two in the morning until our kids get home. It is painful but we do it, we suffer, because of our love for our children.

When the ones we love are in pain, we suffer along with them. When they do something to hurt us or hurt themselves, we suffer. When my Mom had to punish my siblings and me for things we did which we knew we should not have done, she used to say, “This hurts me more than it hurts you,” even as we felt the sting of the wooden spoon across ur hands and wrists. We didn’t believe her are the time but we learned the truth of what she said when we became parents.

When those we love hurt others, do what we have taught them not to do, hurt themselves because of their foolish decisions, we suffer. We did not stop them because we could not stop them. They were free to make their own decisions and suffer the consequences. But, again, we suffered along with them just as our parents suffered along with us. To love is to suffer and there is no escape. It does with the territory, if you will.

And while we may think we have suffered a great deal in our lives because of the words and actions of those we love, think about how much God suffers. Sometimes I think we think God does not suffer, that God is above it all, especially if we believe God should intervene and prevent anyone from doing anything that would cause any kind of pain to themselves or to anyone else.

God suffers every minute of every day because God is Love and God loves each and every one of us unconditionally. And like us, his beloved children who suffer when the ones we love hurt or are hurt, so, too, does God. The temptation is to think it is better not to love than to suffer the consequences. But as we have learned, it is better to love and suffer the pain that sometimes comes with it than to live in even more painful loneliness.

EMOTIONS

There are times in my life when tears flow and I can do nothing about it and it is embarrassing. I don’t want anyone to see the tears because I think that at that moment in time I should be in control of my emotions. After all self-control is a must if we are to live any semblance of a balanced life. We can’t go around crying for almost no reason at all nor can we fly off the handle at the least bit of indiscretion. We have to be able to control our emotions.

Yet, on the other hand we cannot be so stoic that nothing ever moves us to tears, on the one hand, or anger, on the other. God created us to have emotions, to feel pain and grief and joy and sorrow and elations and dejection and whatever else it is that causes our hair to stand on end or tears to flow. Being emotional is part of being human. It simply goes with the territory and we need to deal with it even when we are embarrassed by it.

I was reminded of that a while back other day when I watched two videos friends sent. The first was of a flash mob at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts and the second was of a magical piano at Chicago’s Union Station. Unexplained tears started to well up when a group of student musicians and singers surprised those who had come to the museum for reasons of their own by singing a Christmas hymn. I’m still trying to figure out how to explain the tears.

On the other hand, I do understand why I smiled and laughed watching the video of the magic piano. The piano automatically played music that fit the person standing by or sitting on the piano bench: accompanying a little girl playing “Chopsticks”, playing fast music as people rushed by to catch the next train, blaring loud music to accompany a man on his cell phone who was obviously upset about something who finally turned to the piano and told it to just shut up.

I well up with pride – and tears – when the National Anthem is played when someone from the USA stands up on the stands and receives his or her gold medal at the Olympics. Yet I don’t feel the same way at a baseball game when the anthem is sung or played. Why this is so I have no idea. It only goes to prove to me, at least, that I cannot control what kind of emotional response I will have to any given situation or if  I will have any emotional response at all.

It is also a reminder that there are times when I have to keep my emotions in check and there are times when I have to let them go. If it means that I have to be strong in order to deal with a situation that will be difficult and emotional, so be it. If it means that I will look like a sap to those who see me crying, so be it. Then, when I step back and reflect on what has passed and how I reacted, can I decide if I need to apologize or be thankful.

We are all emotional beings. For that we need not apologize but simply be thankful. What a dull and uncaring world we would live in if it were not for our emotions. They keep us alive. They keep us focused. They remind us of what is good, what is bad, what is important and what is not. They keep us human.

ORGANIZATIONS ARE CONVERSATIONS

Somewhere along the line I read the statement that “organizations are conversations”. I wish I can remember who wrote those words or in what context they were written, but I cannot. What struck me at that moment was not only the truth of that statement but that it can be applied to any organization including, perhaps especially, to the church, both the larger church as well as the local congregation.

One of the main reasons why conflict arises in any organization, including the church – yes, even the church is not exempt from conflict, he says with tongue firmly planted in cheek – is that conversations do not take place or they take place where they should not: parking lots, in the corner at coffee time, anywhere but where they should. Open conversation is the lifeblood of any organization, including the church.

When organizations fail to communicate, problems arise. When the communication is one-sided or is not open to all, problems eventually arise. Even when everything is going smoothly, when no problems have surfaced, conversations still must take place: real conversations, in-depth conversations and not just those around the coffee machine or water cooler or even coffee hour.

Successful organizations are those where conversations are going on and ongoing all over the place and not just in the board room or the vestry conference room. Furthermore, good conversations, conversations that produce growth, are, again, vital not just for the wellbeing of the organization but for the wellbeing of everyone who is part of it. If there are those who feel left out, who believe their thoughts and ideas and even they themselves are not important, then the organization is less for it.

There is an art to conversation, good, meaningful conversation. And that art has to be learned, even taught. Some of us are good listeners and some of us have a hard time listening to anyone but ourselves. Some of us are good talkers; but if the only ones we talk to are the proverbial “choir”, then we are wasting our breathe and their time. That, of course, is not good.

Good conversation can only take place, however, when everyone from top down to bottom up is both willing to speak and willing to listen and, even more importantly, change when that is the outcome of the conversation. Change: change one’s mind, change one’s way of doing things, and even change one’s heart because what needs to be changed is for the betterment of the organization.

There are times when we do not want to enter into conversations because we see no need because we like it the way it is. But honest conversations may reveal that the way it is the way it should be, at least for now.

For us in the church, we must never be afraid to enter into conversation, to always be in conversation. It is the only way to be church. It is the only way for us to be about who we are and who we are called to be. It is the only way to be.

WE'VE ALL BEEN THERE

A while back before I retired a couple without their three children came by to drop off food for the food basket, and headed out the door. I asked them where they were going. The wife replied: “We're running away from home.” I laughed, and added, “And leaving no forwarding address either.”  They laughed. I've been there. Every parent has been. It isn’t easy being a parent. Parenting gives us sometimes the greatest of pleasures and sometimes the greatest of pains. Sometimes we would do it all over again and sometimes we would run like the wind. It depends on the day – and sometimes on the hour.

It almost always depends on the answer we give to our children when they ask for something: to go out tomorrow night even though we told them yesterday that they were grounded for a week; to stay out late even though it is a school night [“I’ll get up in the morning, I promise.”]; for a new outfit because they have nothing to wear [look in their closets]; or a new pair of shoes [to add to the ten pairs they already have].

     
When the answer is a calm and simple “No,” their typical response is: 1) “You don’t have to be so rude.” 2) “You don’t have to yell at me.”  3) “What’s the matter? Do you have an attitude problem?” 4) All of the above. It is no good to try to respond. It only makes the matter worse. The only thought that went through my mind back then was: I can’t wait until you get married and have children of your own. They now are! Revenge is sweet. 

Raising children is only one of the many challenges of life. For life itself is a challenge, a challenge to make it from day to day, one day at a time, a challenge to see if we can get through this day without some sort of pain, or at least with more pleasure than pain. We don’t always succeed. And when we don’t, I suspect the temptation is to try to escape by simply running away from it all.

           
The temptation doesn’t last very long, thankfully. But in those quiet moments when we have the opportunity to reflect on life and the pains and problems of life, we sometimes have to wonder why it has to be so painful at times. And the fact that no one escapes the pain is really no comfort when we are in the midst of our own. Knowing that another is in the same boat as we may be a consolation but it in no way takes away the present pain.

 

It does mean that I am never alone and that I never have to go it alone. I need others to help me through my moments of pain and others need me to help them through theirs – whatever the pain, however great or small or even trivial. Pain is always intensely personal. We can walk alongside someone in pain, along the same road, as we all do as parents, but we can never walk in their shoes. We can only be there for support.
          
When we gather as a worshiping community, we gather as a people in pain, people who suffer from the effects of our own sins, the sins of others, and from events and happenings that are entirely out of our control. We gather to receive the strength of the Eucharist to help us through our pain, and the strength that comes from the loving support of one another to walk that road where we’ve all been before and where we will be again. But we must walk the road together. It’s the only way.