The Gift of Belonging

Dear loved ones, we are about half way into our sabbatical now. And we are home (for a time).

For seven Sundays we've worshipped in different places mostly with people we don't know. There are good reasons to do this and good things to be learned from it. But this morning, as we worshipped at Neland Church and celebrated God tabernacling here among us, I was overwhelmed at being, once again, among the people to whom I belong. Belonging is an unspeakably precious gift. Pastor Len's message proclaimed the truth that while it is amazing that God Himself made an appearance on this earth in human flesh, the power and beauty comes in knowing that this was done FOR US. To US a child is born. To US a son is given. God's great desire is for US. God's great longing is for us to know we belong. We belong in the center of God's loving, hospitable embrace. And belonging to one another gives us a tangible experience of that loving embrace.

OK. Enough sermonizing.

I'm also thankful to belong to my loving family. As you can see, it's huge. Last night we gathered, sang, prayed, exchanged gifts, grieved our losses, and celebrated that not only do we belong to each other, we belong to the One who was born among us and for us, the Wonderful Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace.

San Diego Zoo

One of our Christmas gifts to the kids was a day at the San Diego Zoo. What a fantastic place! Just a few of our photos.

Graciously Patient

I ran 3 miles with Max this morning. I was thrilled to be able to do so. But please take a second and picture the length of that boy's legs (he's 6'3"). Not only did he agree to squeeze his size 13 feet into Greg's size 11 running shoes (he'd forgotten his own), he also nonchalantly slowed his pace considerably for his grey-haired partner. He was graciously patient with me.

It's humbling to be in need of gracious patience. The truth is, we all are. John Calvin talks about how we are all slow, slow to grasp the ways of God. And so God accommodates to us. Calvin describes it is as God lisping for us.

"For who even of slight intelligence does not understand that, as nurses commonly do with infants, God is wont in measure to ‘lisp’ in speaking to us? Thus such forms of speaking do not so much express clearly what God is like as accomodate the knowledge of him to our slight capacity. To do this he must descend far beneath his loftiness” (Calvin, Institutes, Book 1, Chapter 13, Section 1)

It's good we take time to meditate on God's condescension for our sake. He knows our frailty, our pain, our weaknesses, our sorrows. He remembers we are dust. And not only does he lisp so we can begin to grasp his greatness, he became one of us so that we might know his incarnate, eternal love. These verses from Once In Royal David's City say it well.

He came down to earth from heaven,
Who is God and Lord of all,
And His shelter was a stable,
And His cradle was a stall;
With the poor, and mean, and lowly,
Lived on earth our Savior holy.

For he is our childhood's pattern;
Day by day, like us He grew;
He was little, weak and helpless,
Tears and smiles like us He knew;
And He feeleth for our sadness,
And He shareth in our gladness.

Along with you, my heart hurts for those whose sadness and losses are so sharply felt at Christmas. May they know the gentle presence of Immanuel. And may the peace our Savior brings and the hope that is ours because of his gracious patience with us, stay with them, and with us all in these days of sorrow and joy.


And our eyes at last shall see Him,
Through His own redeeming love;
For that Child so dear and gentle
Is our Lord in heaven above,
And He leads His children on
To the place where He is gone.

A Watching World

Several years ago I read the book, It Takes A Church To Raise A Christian. This morning we met the author who is also a pastor at San Clemente Presbyterian Church. I was glad to have the opportunity to speak with him briefly after the service.

Let me say, first of all, it was wonderful to worship together as a family. Secondly, we all found the worship meaningful, especially communion. Interestingly, when I asked Bolsinger what was most foundational to this church's efforts of hospitality and community building, he said, "weekly communion." Bolsinger claims that the church became significantly more connected and more committed to being faithful witnesses to a watching world when they ate and drank more often at the Lord's Table together. He suggested that in a service without partaking together in the Lord's supper, without the stark reminder that we, together, are the Body of Christ, one could leave with the impression that personally hearing and applying "the message" was the goal of the service. His thinking is that in a service in which communion is celebrated, it is unlikely you will leave with that more individualistic view of worship and, beyond that, the church. At the same time their church began to think hard about their witness to a watching world. These are certainly things worth thinking about.

In Bolsinger's book, I liked the challenge for churches to think in terms of the shared life of the three persons of the Trinity,as a bases for our shared life and our commitment to unity and shalom. In his book, Bolsinger writes, "We must- by the way we live together- affirm the reality of who God is as Divine Communion, and model our lives on God's life. That 'witness by living together' calls forth a spirituality to be lived out in our larger communities. We are not only messengers of the gospel; we are, by our lives together, the very mission of God who is at work in the world."

To a watching world may our shared life together (as churches and the church) faithfully show the loving outstretched arms of God, who graciously invites us all, as frail, broken, flawed objects of his love, to be nourished at his table and to remember and believe that the body and blood of our Lord Jesus, our Immanuel, was given for the complete forgiveness of all our sins. Thanks be to God!

Strangely Beautiful

We spent a few hours this afternoon in Joshua Tree National Park. Again, a dry and desolate place. It's also strangely beautiful. We learned the Joshua Tree was given its name by a group of Mormon settlers who crossed the Mojave Desert in the mid-19th century. The tree's unique shape reminded them of the biblical story when Joshua reached his hands up to the sky in prayer.

Hmmm. I don't really see it. But it is cool to imagine every tree representing prayers lifted to God.

Greg and I have had a lot of time to pray and to pray together in these last few weeks. May God be merciful and gracious and tender to those who, especially now, need to know God is near.

The Desert

Isaiah 40:3
A voice of one calling: “In the wilderness prepare the way for the Lord ; make straight in the desert a highway for our God."

We hiked in the desert today. It's not a hospitable place. Rough. Parched. Desolate.

We first worshipped at a small Presbyterian church. I was hoping for more desert talk there. It was a good enough service but we were disappointed that we were already worshipping at the manger. We were told that the Light who came into the world was full of grace and truth and so we were to be filled with joy and tell others, "Merry Christmas."

Ok, I've oversimplified the message a bit. But I kept thinking the Light who came into the world exposes more in me than I want to see and acknowledge. We need the prophets. We need to be reminded of the desert places in our hearts. I thought about words of Alexander Solzhenitsyn; "If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart?”

Thankfully, the Light who has come into the world knows the darkness and the desert places of our lives, knows all about our split hearts, and still calls us to prepare for God to live in us and with us. And,of course, that's where the manger, the incarnation, the Christ of Christmas comes in. We cannot open our hearts, we cannot love without the Love of God first coming to us. Our wounded and divided hearts are healed and made whole only through the One who set aside a throne for manger and cross.

Today my prayer is for those who are truly in the desert, in the wilderness; those who grieve, those who suffer pain or loneliness or isolation or persecution or pervasive fear or any form of imprisonment.

Here is our hope.

"Every valley shall be raised up, every mountain and hill made low;the rough ground shall become level, the rugged places a plain. And the glory of the Lord will be revealed,and all people will see it together. For the mouth of the Lord has spoken.”

Grace and peace.

Waiting and Hoping

So many of my loved ones are waiting. My mom waits for relief of life-depleting back pain. My aunt waits for a break in chemo-induced nausea. My friend Ron soon begins an intense regimen of treatment for recurring leukemia and waits for a life-saving bone marrow transplant. Others I care about wait in hopeful expectation for news that will significantly impact life. We are a waiting people. How long, O Lord?

Yesterday Greg and I visited a non-profit called Homeboy Industries in downtown LA. Some of you know I've been inspired by the ministry of Father Gregory Boyle to gang members in LA, and the book that describes it, Tattoos On The Heart.

Elena gave us a tour. Elena was abandoned by her parents and lived a horribly jagged life on the streets. She was incarcerated as a teenager and released at 33. Longing for new life, new hope, she discovered Homeboy Industries. This ministry offered her not only practical services and programs like counseling, tattoo removal, and job training, but also a sense of kinship, belonging, and spiritual nourishment. Elena now speaks about her life and the impact that Homeboys/Homegirls has had on it.

Elena too waits. She waits to see more and more gang members given a second chance at life, and for far too many, a truly first chance. She waits to see more and more gang members leave their gang affiliation behind to come in and work shoulder to shoulder with hated enemies. She waits for our broken world to believe and embrace the truth that over hatred, violence, and fear, love wins.

We are a waiting people. How long, O Lord? Come, Lord Jesus. We wait with hope.

These words from my most treasured Christmas carol sound in my heart today for all who wait.

Oh holy night!
The stars are brightly shining
It is the night of the dear Savior's birth!
Long lay the world in sin and error pining
Till he appear'd and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn!

Fall on your knees
Oh hear the angel voices
Oh night divine
Oh night when Christ was born
Oh night divine
Oh night divine

Truly He taught us to love one another
His law is love and His gospel is peace
Chains shall He break for the slave is our brother
And in His name all oppression shall cease
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,
Let all within us praise His holy name.

The pictures show Elena and I first of all next to the laser machine. Elena has endured many removal sessions which cause her skin to blister badly before the healing happens. The second picture is a computer lab at Homeboys/Homegirls where job searching, resumes, and school assignments are worked on. In the final picture, Elena and I are standing in front of a wall garden. What a useful and practical idea for a wall that gets plenty of sun!

Yosemite And a Quote

As you can see, we worshipped on Sunday in an unspeakably beautiful, awe-inspiring cathedral, Yosemite National Forest and Park. Clear skies, few visitors to the park, and the stark beauty of the massive granite spires and peaks stunned and wooed us.

On Sunday evening we had a good conversation with some new friends about the challenge of sacrificial hospitality. We seemed to conclude that to welcome "the stranger" requires a willingness not only to gain information and a deeper knowledge of another person, but a willingness to give up something of our own security and comfort, trusting that as we welcome and love sacrificially, in God's economy, we become richer. It reminded me of something I'd read earlier Sunday morning.

"Sarah being barren (Genesis 11:30), the command to “go forth” placed before Abraham a difficult choice: he would either belong to his country, his culture, and his family and remain comfortably inconsequential or, risking everything, he would depart and become great—a blessing to “all the families of the earth” (Brueggemann 1977,15ff.). If he is to be a blessing he cannot stay; he must depart, cutting the ties that so profoundly defined him. The only guarantee that the venture will not make him wither away like an uprooted plant was the word of God, the naked promise of the divine “I” that inserted itself into his life so relentlessly and uncomfortably."

Miroslav Volf, Exclusion and Embrace

It's a great privilege to have this time to reflect and be renewed. We miss those dear to us but look forward to seeing many of you at Christmas.

Wishing you Advent peace and hope.