"The Morn of Song"...

"Though with a scornful wonder we see her sore oppressed,
by schisms rent asunder, by heresies distressed,
yet saints their watch are keeping; their cry goes up, "How long?"
And soon the night of weeping shall be the morn of song."
                    - "The Church's One Foundation" - verse 3.  Words: Samuel J. Stone 1866

I have difficulty with these words.  Not because I disagree with them, but because I know their truth.  I have felt the pain of the Saints who have labored and given their lives for the Church.  I see the things that are tearing the Church apart: the decisions, the issues, the conflicts, the disagreements.  And I hear their cry.  I hear the change in the language that we once used to avoid: the name-calling, the labeling.  And I hear their cry.  And I, too, ask, "How long?"

Over the last few weeks, it seems as though the conflicts, the name-calling, the posturing and the defensive positioning, have given the Church more than just a black eye.  We've done damage to the Kingdom.  We've disrespected the Saints who gave their lives for it.  We've taken for granted the Cross.  And I hear their cry.

Whenever a conflict arises, the optimal thing to do, according to the experts, is to look at it as a challenge for growth.  "We can grow from this experience" they say.  "We can look at it as an opportunity" they say.  But the one thing that I find missing, the one thing that is sorely absent, is the act of penitence.  What have I done that has caused this rift?  Where have I been a part of the injustice?  Where did I benefit from or cause pain to another?

Please do not get me wrong.  In no way am I suggesting blame or fault.  Nor am I seeking to affix the proper victor's wreath to either side.  I am merely asking the theological question: Where is God in all this?

I remember reading years ago, although I cannot recall the source, that a reporter had once asked a question of the late President Lincoln during the height of the Civil War, a question of theology.  The North and the South had both claimed they were fighting for "right" and claimed God to be on their own side during that great and bloody conflict.  The reporter asked Lincoln which side he believed God to be on - the Union or the Confederacy?  Lincoln, so I recall, pondered the question for a brief moment, and then responded in his typical folksy way, but with all the sincerity he could muster, "I believe that God is at the side of every widow, and orphan, and childless mother and father."

There comes a time when we must stop trying to prove the other wrong as we seek to be proven right.  There comes a time when we must begin to ask the right questions: How can I be most faithful to the one who disagrees with me?  What am I seeking in my heart - to be right, or to be a servant for the Kingdom?  Am I putting my own desires, my own agenda, my own wants and needs ahead of Christ's calling?  Where am I willing to sacrifice myself for the sake of the Kingdom and Christ's Church?  Or to paraphrase Bonhoeffer, "Where is the cost of my discipleship?"  How am I leading others to Christ Jesus with all that I have and all that I am?  How am I responding in grace?

I am not naive enough to think for a moment that what I've said here will change those who are so deeply entrenched into their positions that they cannot see the other's point of view, and begin an honest, listening dialogue with each other.  But I am hopeful.  Trench-warfare scenarios do not last forever.  Truces come, and the fighting ceases.

At least that's what I've been told about the real reason for this Season of Advent.  There is a light coming into the world.  I pray that it will be one that will soften the hardest hearts, and bring about a peace that passes all understanding.  Mountains will be made low, and valleys will be lifted up.  Rough places will be made smooth and the crooked ways will be straightened.  This night of weeping shall not last.  Soon there will be a morn of song.

Grace  and peace,
Brad

Old and New Traditions…

Our family just got back from our traditional Thanksgiving Week campout.  We spend the few days before and after Thanksgiving in our travel trailers in an RV park nearby our home, so that we can spend some time “away” without having to take several days to “get there and back.”  We enjoy the time together, Jan gets to try new recipes for the big meals, and we all get to set around a campfire in our portable fire pit every evening.  Usually my sister flies in from California, and Jan the kids have the week off from school.  It is a relaxing time to catch up on what’s been happening with everyone, and we get to just chill.  It is truly a time to remember for what we are thankful, and why.

Traditions are funny things, aren’t they?  You try something once, and if you really enjoy it, you wind up trying to duplicate it, or even improve upon it.  Before you know it, you’ve begun to plan on it, even count on it happening again and again.  Planning a Thanksgiving getaway usually begins in late August, and we start looking at a map.  “Where can we go, that we don’t have to travel too far?”  Before long, a destination is chosen, then the menu planning begins.  I can almost see the wheels turning inside Jan’s mind as she begins to plan out the meals, draft the shopping lists, and organize the spices that she will need to take along.

A new tradition has come about in recent years that I did not plan on, but happily have assumed.  For years, whenever my family went camping, we always had fried potatoes and onions for most meals – especially for breakfast.  Dad’s famous recipe included using an old Coleman stove that had never been cleaned – he said “it added flavor to whatever you cooked on it.”  As the years went by, I bought a stove similar to his, and began to help him do the morning cooking – eggs, bacon, or sausage – it didn’t matter.  Then eventually, I took over the morning fare.  Someday, I hope that Braedon will take on this tradition as well.

Traditions have a way of growing on you.  Before you know it, they shape you, mold you, and fill you with meaning that cannot be easily described.  As soon as we get home from thanksgiving, the next set of traditions are started – decorating the house for Christmas.  It’s all a part of getting ready. 

Which is what Advent is all about.  It is about getting ready for the coming of the Christ Child in our midst.  We make room, we decorate, we prepare, we clean, we start our lists – not just the ones involving baking, and mailing Christmas cards.  But the real lists.  The ones that we need to keep that will remind us of who we are.  And whose we are.

Scripture reminds us of the ways that Advent explodes onto the scene - it doesn't!  We want fanfare, and we get modest hints.  We want the glorious, the fantastic; but the Prophets share the secrets of what is to come.  We want the message to be clear and concise; and we get cryptic, almost hidden allusions to what is about to happen.  "Behold! A young woman is pregnant and is about to give birth to a son, and she will name him Immanuel (or "God is with us"). (Isaiah 7:14, CEB).

Somewhere, there are shepherds - perhaps not looking after actual sheep - but shepherds nonetheless.  They are keeping silent watch.  Waiting.  Anticipating something remarkable.  And alert.  Somewhere there are star-gazers, fortune-tellers by trade, who will be made aware of something spectacular, and it will turn their lives upside down.  Rulers will find that their power and their thrones will be no match for what God is about to do.  Poverty and suffering will be faint memories of the past, like mists that disappear in the morning sun.  And people will begin to sing songs that the heavens will hear, and the choruses will be full, and the Son of God will arise.  But it will happen, suddenly.  Without provocation.  Without warning.  In the twinkling of an eye.  And then our traditions will begin to make sense.  And our worship will have meaning and purpose.  But in the meantime, keep faithful.  Be mindful of the traditions that have shaped you in the faith.  

I pray that this Advent season will somehow bring back some of the old traditions – the ones that molded and shaped you into the faithful disciple you are now.  And I pray that this Advent season will also instill in you some new traditions – ones that will shape you and nurture you to grow even deeper into the spiritual being you were created to become. 

Get ready.  God is doing something new – again!

Grace and peace,

Brad