What a difference the weekend makes! I had to go up to Jacksonville, FL today to visit a couple of people at Baptist Medical Center. I’d been downtown before, so I knew how daunting the traffic and parking could be.
But not on a Saturday afternoon. Continue reading “Quiet, empty hallways”
Wedding message for Kim and Daniel, January 12, 2018. Kim is a huge fan of Beauty and the Beast, hence the references to “tale as old as time.”
Kim and Daniel, in some ways, it’s hard to believe we are actually here today, to witness you taking your vows and becoming husband and wife. I looked at my calendar and we met for our first premarital counseling session in February of last year. And I know that we had this day booked for your wedding several months before that.
But I guess it’s a good thing you had a lot of time to get ready. Kim, you told me last week that your to do list was still pretty long, even after a whole year to get things done! I’ll bet you were still checking things off your list this morning!
But today, I want to talk about someone who’s been getting for this day even longer than you have. The ultimate “tale as old as time” is the one we find in Genesis chapter 2: “a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh” (Genesis 2:24). The idea of marriage is a part of God’s creation of this world. It was his plan from the very beginning. And today, you get to be a part of his plan, too.
I want to talk about that plan for a few moments today. First of all, God said, “It’s not good to be alone.” He created us to be in relationships. From birth we have a relationship with our parents. As families grow, brothers and sisters have relationships. And then the day comes when you leave your families to create a new family. And as your family grows, you will have a relationship with your children and grandchildren and even beyond. Never forget God’s gift of relationships in your life.
Second, you become one flesh. In marriage, God brings two together to become one. Everything you do affects the other. You share joys and sorrows, meals and a home, friends and family, and intimate moments together. Your language will change. Instead of “me” and “you,” you’ll say “we” and “us.” That’s exactly what God had in mind.
The third one is something we heard in the second reading today, from a letter written by a man named Paul. As he talked about husbands and wives, he called that relationship a model of just how much Christ loves his church. That love is even older than the creation of the world. Paul began that letter by writing that God chose us in Christ before the foundation of the world, that is, before creation itself (Eph. 1:4).
So you and I were on God’s to-do list from eternity. He always had us in mind. He knew that we would need someone like Jesus, and he was willing to give us his son. He was even willing to let his son die for us. That’s how much he loved you and me, the ultimate “tale as old as time.”
The animated Disney movie came out in 1991. Ha ha! – tale as old as you! The original French story was published in 1740, a tale older than our nation. But the real “tale as old as time” is that of God’s love for us, his plans for us, and the future he has prepared for us. It’s so great to know that you’ve always been and always will be on God’s to-do list!
I’m not exactly sure how it happened, but once again I found myself at the kids table.
After the wedding rehearsal, the family invited me to join them for dinner at the Portuguese American Cultural Center for supper. Even though I was the last to leave after locking up the church, I was one of the first to arrive there. Within fifteen minutes or so, more of the family trickled in, and it wasn’t long before I found myself watching a young men, Junior (age 4) and his cousin (age 6), play some games on an iPad. We were joined by two young ladies, Ina (age 4) an Layla (age 9), who were each absorbed in a book. When I asked what they were reading, they eagerly shared with me the highlights of their Captain Underpants books. As I sat to listen, we were invited to the buffet, and just like that, I found myself eating with the kids.
If you know me at all, you’ll know I was in my element, and soon we were comparing notes as to what is actually inside a clam, debating how much salt to sprinkle on a piece of bread (correct answer: none), and clinking out glasses so we could watch the soon-to-be married couple kiss. Dessert was even better as some delicious homemade chocolate mousse was quickly dubbed “moose poo.”
They couldn’t quite get the knack of rubbing a finger along the rim of a glass to fill the room with a high-pitched note. They did find and consume most of the chocolate covered strawberries. And the imitation rose petals decorating the tables were great for practicing for the big day tomorrow.
I got to meet a lot of nice family and friends of both the bride and groom, but I enjoyed the kids the best. Bonus moment: when ten-month old Clifford gave me a big, mostly toothless smile!
“I swear, that is the last time I’m letting you go in the store. I mean, how hard is it to pick up a half-gallon of skim milk?”
Neither one spoke a word till they were almost home. But she just couldn’t do it. Even though it was under her breath, she just had to say it, “You are so stupid.”
Reaching into the back seat, he grabbed the plastic shopping bag with the milk and rolled down his window.
“Now what are you doing?”
Without a word, he simply flung the jug out the window onto the street.
Why else would a jug of milk be lying on the side of a busy street?
Today would probably be my last visit. The last time I saw J. he didn’t look too bad. He had lost some weight, had lost some strength and had to use a walker. The cancer was there, but he didn’t purse treatment. He’d had ninety-one good years, fifty-five of them with an amazing wife. A life well-lived.
Today when I went to visit, I didn’t know what to expect. When I got to the door, his wife said, “He won’t know you’re here.” But when I got to his bed, he looked at me and whispered, “Hello, pastor.” A couple of weeks into hospice care, he had stopped eating and drinking, and slept most of the time. Death crept closer with each moment. But he was home, in his own bed, without pain and with his wife, continuing to live a good life.
Our conversation was brief as I prepared the sacrament, a foretaste of the feast to come. A little bread dipped in wine would be his portion. His wife would receive the rest as she sat on the other side of the bed. I silently thanked God for this moment, probably the last, to give him communion. To give them communion together. I’m no expert, but I knew he didn’t have many more conversations left in him. I knew this would be his last meal on this side of the heavenly banquet.
This family is one of the few who have been at our church longer than me. They joined about a year before I arrived, so I have known them for a long time. I thanked him for his faithfulness, and reminded him, as I had for the last twenty-one years, of God’s faithfulness. I reminded him of Jesus’ sacrifice, God’s forgiveness, and that place prepared for him by his Savior. After a prayer and the Lord’s prayer, I made the sign of the cross on his head as I spoke the benediction. A reminder of the sign of the cross made on his head and heart at his baptism ninety-one years before, in anticipation of this very moment.
I don’t quickly forget these moments. As a pastor, I get to be a part of many families’ final moments with loved ones. I get to be there in those moments when the temporal and the eternal touch, when heaven meets earth, and when loved ones leave this life for the next. I could tell that God had blessed this family with love, acceptance, hope, and strength. Rather than falling apart as death drew near, they fell into the arms of their Savior a familiar place they had been many times before,
Before I left, I saw and talked with D., his wife. I made sure she was getting the help she needed, got her to promise she would call when anything happened, and talked about J.’s memorial service. For someone as frail as she was, she had strength and composure that I can only attribute to the Holy Spirit. I guess that’s why He’s known as the Comforter and the Helper!
It was right in the middle of a song on Sunday morning. The praise team was smaller than usual, just a couple of voices, but they produced a moment that still echoes in my mind. I don’t remember what the song was, but at one moment, when the two voices –one male, one female — harmonized, it lifted my heart, brought a spontaneous smile to my face, and made me stop and marvel at the beauty of that moment.
Eight days later, I am still thinking about that moment. There was another such moment this morning when, as turned the corner on my way to work and the pre-sunrise colors in the sky took my breath away and made me smile. In the dim morning light, my phone’s camera just wouldn’t capture the colors to preserve that moment, so I can’t even share it with you. Or when I got back home tonight and my two-year-old grandson saw me and shouted, “You came back!” How could I not smile at that?
I am grateful that God sprinkles these little moments into my day from time to time. Sometimes you smile because you have to. Or because you don’t want to cry. But sometimes you just can’t help it.
What is it about Epiphany that makes it so appealing? Is it because it’s usually the first Sunday of a new year? Is there something about the wise men that captures our imagination? Is it the music, from “We Three Kings of Orient Are” to “As With Gladness Men of Old”? I can’t put my finger on it, but there was certainly more energy in the air today at church than there was, say last week, the Sunday after Christmas. And I know it won’t be as easy to command their attention with the Baptism of our Lord next week.
My grandson spent about thirty minutes looking at and playing with the characters in the stable on display in the sanctuary, as three camels and three wise men joined the shepherds, sheep, cow, donkey and the holy family. For the children’s sermon I had some frankincense and myrrh for them to smell. They weren’t impressed. But they know what the gold was! They got to take a shiny gold coin with them because I had plenty – a bag of 144 for just a few bucks.
There is something exotic, mysterious, and treacherous about these visitors from the east. We’re not sure we trust them. They don’t prove themselves until they return home a different way instead of reporting back to Herod. They bring great gifts that point to Jesus’ roles as king, priest and sacrifice.
A bright star, an angelic dream, several fulfilled prophecies, and a dramatic escape – it’s just a great story, I guess.
My gospel illustration of the day popped into my head (thank you, Holy Spirit!) during a hospital visit with a friend who was pretty scared about her discharge, prognosis, treatments and eventually death itself.
I assured her that she would continue to receive good care from her doctors and nurses as well as from our Lord. But there was the rub. Not only did she believe she was being punished for past mistakes, she was worried about what purgatory would mean for her. I’d be scared, too. Technically, she identifies as Roman Catholic, but I’ve known her for a long time. I reminded her that Jesus had already been punished for her sins on the cross, so that was all taken care of. To illustrate, I said it’s like driving on a toll road. You don’t have to go through the toll booth and pay anything. You’ve got a SunPass, so you can cruise right through. I had just driven back and forth to the Orlando airport on 417, so the image was fresh in my mind. And it seemed to make sense to her.
She said, “Well, I trust you, so I guess that’s the way it is.” I replied, “Well, I got it from Jesus, and I know we can trust him.” The respiratory therapist finishing up her chart in the room concurred, and after a quick prayer I was on my way.
The SunPass stuck to my windshield had a powerful message to preach this week. Who knew?
One of my favorite fountain pens is a Jinhao x750 that I guess you could say I actually got for free when I took advantage of a BOGO deal at the Goulet Pen Company. It’s got a medium nib with a really cool looking Shimmering Sands body, writes really smooth and has a little bit of heft to it, which I really like.
Unfortunately, after I had only used it for a few days, it wouldn’t cap snuggly. Now that’s not a big deal, but it was annoying. Capped, it would rattle just enough to bug me. But hey, it was free (even if bought it, it costs less than $10), so whatever. I put it away, then got it out again when some other pens were out of ink. And that’s when it happened.
As paused while journaling, I was fiddling with it while posted, twisting it around, and when I capped it, it fit snuggly. I tend to twist a pen just a little when capping/uncapping, and that is how it worked loose. Again, this is pretty small potatoes, but I felt such joy in that moment. An ever-so-small annoyance solved. Just like that.
I had promised myself I would chronicle those instances in my life that bring me joy, and this is one of them. I find this fascinating. I don’t need something big, spectacular, expensive, or mind-blowing to bring me joy. Just something simple, small and even trivial.
What other simple things bring joy? Finding a dollar in a pair of jeans. Finding marrow bones for Samson in the freezer at Publix (lately, this has been a rare find). Reaching in the bag and finding one more french fry. Feeling a little hand grab my finger to walk with me.
What simple, ordinary moments bring you joy?
Waite for it... 