ONE MORE WALK "Where Love Is The Hero"

The Apostle Paul, for all of his faithfulness to the Christian Gospel, received a good bit of heartache and struggle in return. One church, in particular, seemed to give him a good bit of grief.  After faithfully trying to guide, nurture, instruct, and encourage the Corinthian Church, their "gracious response" was to painfully call into question his credentials and leadership. Angry expletives and spitting in his face might have been a kinder response. Instead, they hit him where it hurt.. they attacked his educated mind, professional experience, fierce commitment, and leadership skills. Yet amazingly, in place of retaliation, launching a victimization campaign, or running away from the whole ungrateful lot, Paul does something completely unexpected. He makes room for Love instead.

It's not clear where he learned this stunning and life altering move, but it may have had something to do with Jesus making room to share Love with him. In fact, if you check out Paul's back story, you find that Jesus made A LOT of room and shared A LOT of Love with Paul. So much so, that Paul now wants to make room and share Love with others... not only this struggling church, but anybody and everybody who will open their lives to the transforming power and healing Love of God in Christ. Though injured and pained by this church’s attack, Paul responds by writing a pastoral letter of encouragement and guidance that still speaks to all who long to find faithful ways to make room for the Love of God...

. . . “we have this treasure in clay jars, so that it may be made clear that this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies.” (2 Corinthians 4:7-10)

And yet, as inspiring as Paul’s words are, this making room for the life and Love of Christ can be hard going. Whether it be with the people we know and meet, our families, our local community, or the larger world, it can be challenging and at times even frightening to make room for, let alone strive to Love those around us. Perhaps, the “jars of clay” in which we dwell, in place of being pliable and open to Christ’s Love and leading, are just what they seem to be, fragile, earthen jars which can no longer see the light of day for the caked mud and muck that is stuck inside. Tired and weary from a world whose need and brokenness grows by the day, it’s hard to trust that anything new might live in us again. It’s hard to believe that we have the potential to bear the ultimate healing and hope for the world by embracing the company of the One who offers the greatest treasure of all.

But I have to say, as hard as it can be, I’ve caught glimpses of such moments, such shifts when the clay of self- preservation, apathy, and cynicism have been cracked open and peeled apart by the steady and faithful presence of God’s Love in Christ. I've seen it in circles of conversations with people who earnestly want to learn and live different stories where "Love is the hero," in churches and communities who are stepping out into uncertain paths of ministry and service, creating life-giving ways to partner, share, and be agents of hope, healing, and Love, and in authors, movie makers, facilitators, teachers, pastors, and intent souls who want to help build connection, reconciliation, and life. I've seen it in simple acts of kindness and generosity that might not change the world but definitely change the projectory of somebody's life or family. I've witnessed it when a dear friend lovingly risked the question..."What do you want more, being right or our friendship?" And I've seen it, as you have, when others have risked their lives on behalf of complete strangers, where people, who deeply disagree, come to the table to work together for a common cause of good, and in every place where one person is sincerely trying to listen and learn from someone's story that is very different from their own.

These may only be glimpses of what's possible...is possible, but I believe they're tangible "treasures" striving to make room so that "Love may be the hero" of every story. Of course none of this kind of living happens easily or without frustration, irritation and mess. Just ask the Apostle Paul who likens us to clay jars. Jars, whom on occasion, may be tired and weary from a world whose brokenness and need grows by the day. And yet because we too have had Jesus make A LOT of room and share A LOT of Love with us, we, like Paul, can step out, lean in, give, share, listen, act, and make room for Love, again and again and again. And wouldn't it be great if THIS became the something everyone says about us.

"Oh Her... Oh Him...well, they're Somebody who makes room by making 'Love the hero' of every story.'" What a treasure that would be!...What a possible treasure it can be! Definitely one worth holding in the very human clay jar of our lives and hearts. Not to keep, mind you, but so that, with Jesus' help, we might pour such Love out for the world.

Kind Friends, may we continue to hold fast to the One whose Love makes room and holds us all. May it become our joy to pour such Love out for the world. Lenten Blessings,  Leslee

"Where love is the hero" of every story is an idea Brian McLaren and Garreth Higgins offer in their work and book, The Seventh Story: Us, Them, and the End of Violence

ONE MORE WALK Leaving For A New Land

If you go nosing around in the Book of Genesis, you will find Abram and Sarai, two good natured older adults

who have been asked by God to leave their land, their family, and home for an undesignated place; a place that God will show them in time. We’re not told why God chose them. We're not told if they were people of devout faith or if they were a couple hoping to travel in retirement and thought this invitation sounded like a good way to get the ball rolling. Genesis 12 only tells us: The Lord said to Abram, “Leave your land, your family, and your father’s household for the land that I will show you.” And so, they did.

The invitation did, however, come with some pretty great promises. Abram is told he will be the father of a great nation- which is no small thing since he and Sarai have no children. And well, given their age, it's a pretty amazing promise. He’s also told he will be given land… more than he can possibly imagine. And he’s told all the families of the earth will be blessed because of him. So, there really IS some incentive for Abram and Sarai to turn everything upside down and leave home. But still… it seems like a lot to ask of some folks who may be just beginning to draw their social security. 

As I think of Abram and Sarai's bravery and courage, I’m mindful of something, Andre Gide, the winner of the 1947 Nobel Prize in Literature once wrote:

“One does not discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore for a very long time.” 

When God called Abram and Sarai to leave their home, to our knowing they never returned. They not only lost sight of their home shore, they never saw it again. Once they were asked to leave they never returned. And even if they did go back for a brief visit, they were not the same people as when they left. Because that’s what happens when we leave one place for another; that’s what happens when we leave our land, our family, and our households for new ones. We change.

I think this is why Abram and Sarai make ideal Lenten companions. For what are these days before us if not a journey where we too are invited to “leave our land”; to make a prayerful and intentional examination of our lives and discern what God is calling us to hold on to and what to leave behind. To do so, invites honest scrutiny and arm wrestling choices where we envision different paths we’ve not yet taken. It’s an invitation to go on a journey by way of redefining the stories we're living by. In place of living in the land of waste, self-absorption, apathy, arrogance, fear, excuses, and harm, Lent asks us to leave for an "undesignated place that with God's help we will find in time." And as we go, we may begin to catch a glimpse of the new territory before us, a new land where the stories that define us are full of blessing, hope, reconciliation, love, and promise. We only have to consent to leave our familiar shores behind.

Which of course, is why such a journey can be so hard. Because leave taking-of any kind- involves loss, risk, change, and grief. We’re not privy to any of the emotional upheaval, doubt, questions or internal wrestling Abram and Sarai must have surely endured to make such a life altering decision. We’re only told…”Abram left just as the Lord told him.” And yet, it's not hard to picture this older couple fretting, arguing, and worrying over, "What are we doing?!" What have we done?! It's not hard to think of them sobbing, as they look at their home, through the rear view mirror of their wagon, one last time.

Ed Moore helps me remember this was no easy thing for Abram and Sarai...

“I saw at once, and for the first time, that God asked Abraham and Sarah to lose parts of themselves before they could begin the covenant journey: their homeland, their clan connection, which meant everything in that culture. I saw, for the first time, that they began the covenant journey in grief, in loss, and that that grieving, that loss began the highway to the new Jerusalem.” (Ed Moore is the head pastor of North Shore Baptist Church in Bayside,

New York)

Though we are never told as much, I often think about how afraid these two older souls must have been. While offering extraordinary faith in their willingness to follow God's leading, Abram and Sarai must have been so afraid. All they had before them, besides the good Lord's leading was the fear of the unknown and the fear of meeting people who would surely be different from them. Which is why I want to follow along after them this Lent. Their witness has something to say about leaning into the invitation of "discovering new lands" when it's the last thing I want to do. Their lives offer a witness of faithfulness that's not defined by certainty and free of questions but one that is open to growth and change while being afraid of what it might bring. Abram and Sarai's story doesn't negate the fear they must have felt. It just didn't define their choices and the way they lived their lives. Maybe this is why we never hear anything about it.

At a time in their lives where they had become perhaps a good bit settled, had things in order, were not looking for anything new to stir the pot, and may have stopped being curious about their own purpose and place in the world, God chooses this time to offer the invitation to "leave." I think it's a lot like the invitation God extends to us during Lent. There's a lot of security and ease in what's familiar and known. But that's not what following Jesus, or for that matter, walking the path of Lent is all about. And so, God offers a season to wake us back up and do all of those things we thought we were done with like....becoming unsettled, stirring the pot, and becoming curious about everything... especially our lives and our purpose and place in the world. It's why Lent is not for the faint of heart. If taken seriously it's call for repentance and reflection will bring us to tears, drop us to our knees, induce our own version of "Lieutenant Dan's "questioning rage and have us leaving debilitating and dangerous stories for promising, hopeful ones kicking and screaming. It will take us where we never thought we would go.... to a new land with life-giving stories. Perhaps this is something of what Annie Dillard meant when she wrote...

"It is madness to wear ladies' straw hats and velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmets. Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should lash us to our pews. For the sleeping god may wake someday and take offense, or the waking god may draw us out to where we can never return."

All of this may make us feel afraid and turn away from Lent and for that matter, Jesus altogether. Which is OK. We can be afraid, uncertain, angry, frustrated, hurt, and unsure about everything. Our feelings don't need to be negated. They just don't have to define the story we live. Somehow through the course of their lives Abram and Sarai learned this and were open to great change late in their lives. Their faithful witness gives me hope for my weak one. Their story encourages me to step out toward some new land where the stories that define me are full of blessing, hope reconciliation, love, and promise. I only have to consent to leave my familiar shores behind. Perhaps Lent, this year, may disrupt us all to follow where the good Lord is leading. Perhaps it will inspire a life-giving curiosity that will change us. May it be so.

Lenten Blessings, Leslee

If you're looking for a couple of great resources for Lent this year I highly recommend spending some time with Brian McClaren and Garreth Higgens' podcast,

The Seventh Story: https://podtail.com/podcast/learning-how-to-see-with-brian-mclaren-jacqui-lewi/the-seventh-story/

Also be sure to check out Carol Wilson's Table Grace:

https://www.tablegracepartnerconversations.com/

Brian, Garreth, and Carol are wonderful companions for helping us follow Jesus.

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ONE MORE WALK Lent's Prompt

"Now in Joppa there was a disciple whose name was Tabitha, which in Greek is Dorcas. She was devoted to good works and acts of charity. 37At that time she became ill and died. When they had washed her, they laid her in a room upstairs. 38Since Lydda was near Joppa, the disciples, who heard that Peter was there, sent two men to him with the request, “Please come to us without delay.” 39So Peter got up and went with them; and when he arrived, they took him to the room upstairs. All the widows stood beside him, weeping and showing tunics and other clothing that Dorcas had made while she was with them. 40Peter put all of them outside, and then he knelt down and prayed. He turned to the body and said, “Tabitha, get up.” Then she opened her eyes, and seeing Peter, she sat up. 41He gave her his hand and helped her up. Then calling the saints and widows, he showed her to be alive. 42This became known throughout Joppa, and many believed in the Lord. 43Meanwhile he stayed in Joppa for some time with a certain Simon, a tanner. 

Acts 9:36-43 

Tabitha, a disciple of Christ, has died and because her witness was profound and her faithful service great, her death has caused a tidal wave of grief within her community.

It's too much. To go forward without her seems impossible. Her giving and generosity were well known. Many came to depend on her, especially the widows and most likely the poor. But now she's gone. So Peter, their leader, is found and urged to come. As he arrives he's greeted by weeping mourners who have no words, but who offer evidence of Tabitha's  lavish gifts of love. Holding up one garment after another, they want Peter to see what they all have come to see; a beautiful life, faithfully lived, in service and love of others. So in place of offering comfort alone, Peter, by God's power and grace, offers resurrection as well.

The gift of resurrection to Tabitha and her community was most definitely a miracle.

Yet, I can't help but wonder if the miracle was more than the prolonging of a remarkable and good life of a faithful disciple. I wonder if Tabitha’s resurrection drew more believers to Jesus because of the “life possible” it revealed. In Tabitha, others came to know and see a completely different world order.  In place of a community of “haves” and “have nots,” Tabitha’s relationship with Christ helped shape a community where everyone, regardless of social status or need had a place at Christ's table. I wonder if the real miracle that day was the breaking down of walls. I wonder if what was truly resurrected were people’s hearts.

Yet such a resurrection will continue to raise questions too. Why was Tabitha allowed to live longer when so many other faithful souls were not? Perhaps, so more might come to believe, as the text suggests. But to be honest, it's not a very satisfying answer. While others coming to know Jesus is a blessing to be sincerely celebrated, at some level Tabitha’s resurrection will always prompt the age old question of "Why was she healed and not another?" I have no satisfying answer. I only know to follow Peter's lead. I only know that for a time, I too must place all the hurt and sorrow of the world outside so that I may find a quiet place to kneel down and pray. Only then will I be able to hear the voice of Jesus saying, "Get up," open my eyes, and allow Him to help me up and out, back into the world of deep hurt and need. If I do, I too may experience a miracle.... the ongoing resurrection of my own heart. I may enter into the holy invitation of Lent, which is a good thing since it's just up ahead. I may learn again that intentional reflection, prayer, repentance, and fasting- setting aside those things I love way more than Jesus- will be just what I need to resurrect this weary heart of mine again... and again... and again.

Perhaps Lent, for all of us, may serve as a prompt, that for a time, we put all that is breaking our heart "outside"... or to the side.. not to forget, dismiss, diminish, or hide from, but so we may be "prompted" to find some quiet place to kneel down and pray. It's not that the needs holding our heart go away. No matter how much we wish we could put them physically and mentally away, the needs remain. Rather the "outside" Lent prompts is something of a liturgical move. It's an act of faith that works to trust God's steadfast hold on things. It's a call to worship to lay down our burdens so that we may be replenished and renewed by the One who will help us pick up those burdens once again. It's an offering of humility and prayer for help so that we may hear the love of Jesus empowering us back into life. Maybe it's as simple as taking a walk outside, listening to a beautiful piece of music, praying a familiar prayer, resting in the company of a friend, doing something kind for another, or writing down our thoughts in a journal. Or maybe it's as hard as giving ourselves permission to sob and weep at all that's broken, reading a difficult book, staying put when we want to walk away, coming clean about our manipulative motives and judgment of others, getting our "house in order," or spending some intentional time in solitude, alone. Maybe it's some of both. But however we find Lent's prompt, may it hold before us the promise of resurrection and life. If we do, it will help us hear the voice of Jesus saying, "Get up," so that we may open our eyes, and allow Him to help us up and out, back into the world of deep hurt and need once again.

May Lent's prompt and the One who holds us all bring you everlasting life.

Lenten Blessings, Leslee