Why is God banging her head against that tree?

I’ve loved musicals most of my life – My Fair Lady, Mary Poppins, most of Rodgers & Hammerstein’s, Godspell, Hello Dolly! More recently I’ve enjoyed Phantom, Joseph and his… Coat, Into the Woods, Les Mis.

Another I like is You’re A Good Man, Charlie Brown, which, like the Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup, combines two favorites, Charles Schultz’s Peanuts and music theater. My favorite song is “The Book Report,” a quartet of four characters writing (or not writing) a report on Peter Rabbit. Wonderful!

But, I digress. It’s the song “Little Known Facts” where Lucy explains amazing “facts” of nature to her little brother that got me thinking about this week’s entry.

(Lucy) Do you see that tree?
            it is a Fir tree.
            It's called a Fir tree because it gives us fur,
            For coats,
            It also gives us wool in the wintertime.

(Linus) I never knew that before, Lucy. That's very interesting.

(Lucy) This is an elm tree.
            It's very little.
            But it will grow up into a giant tree,
            An oak.
            You can tell how old it is by counting it's leaves.

As the song continues, Charlie Brown tries to correct some of the misinformation, but as usual, Lucy is louder. Finally, Linus asks, “Lucy, why is Charlie Brown banging his head against that tree?”

“To loosen the bark to make the tree grow faster.”

What does this have to do with theology? It’s my opinion that sometimes God may feel the same way as Charlie Brown.

Consider Jephthah who makes a vow before God and everyone that if he’s victorious in battle, he’ll offer a burnt-offering of whatever comes out his front door when he gets home. (How could he have thought this was a good idea?) Anyway, he’s victorious. He goes home and his daughter runs out to meet him. 

You can see where this is going. No mention of Mrs. Jephthah who would surely have had something to say about this. No mention of God saying, “I hold you to this deal!” either. (Abraham had earlier been given an out when he thought he had to offer up his son.)

A few weeks ago, I heard John Bell at the Washington Island Forum. “I’m so glad that’s in the bible,” he’d say after reading one of its more difficult stories. He’d go on. These stories are here for a reason. It's our job to allow ourselves to be uncomfortable with them, giving them time to unfold their meanings within us. It’s not about whether or not they’re historically accurate, but about finding what truth they offer.

A literal reading of some bible stories makes us think, Eew! Thankfully, we’re not supposed to take them literally. They weren’t written to be taken that way. But nor are we supposed to dismiss them.

When you come to one of these stories, allow yourself to be uncomfortable with it. Wait longer than you think you should have to. Days … weeks … years ...

What bible text makes you go, Eew? What could God be hoping you’d take away from it? (You, not some theologically-trained other person.) What is God's message for you?

Guilty as Charged

A few weeks ago, I was driving down Highway 15, and just as I left Greenville behind, I saw a yellow traffic sign that read "Centerline Rumble Strips." Only I read it as "Combustible Rumble Strips."

That would certainly get one’s attention! Needless to say, I took a second look and read more carefully.

This experience got me thinking about how we sometimes do things, and wonder afterward… how could I have done that? Or, how could I have thought this was a good idea?

• Why, oh why, did I steal that pack of gum when my 9-years-old self was frustrated with the clerk who (I thought) was ignoring me?
• How did I ever believe she’d be a good fit as secretary? (This was years ago.)
• What possessed me to go tent camping in Wisconsin in June again? 
• Did I really think we’d eat all those grapes before they went bad?

Maybe for you it’s not about composting fuzzy grapes or going home early from a cold, wet vacation, but we’ve all made bad choices. And experienced living with the consequences.

• I still remember waiting by the counter in that shop, sweaty from riding my bike, while the clerk left me standing there. I wish I hadn’t taken the gum. I’m sure it didn’t taste right to my young, “lawful-good” self.
• That secretary didn’t last. 
• Would you believe I went camping in Bayfield in June just two years ago? Lots of rain and nighttime temps in the 30s! (One of the others in the mission team took pity on me and loaned me a blanket to lay over my sleeping bag.) 
• I consider composting a great invention. It keeps me from feeling quite so guilty when something in the fridge gets forgotten.

But… Guilt. That’s where I was going with this. How are we to handle it?
What do you do? And how’s that working for you?

There are some actions that demand restitution, but, really, most of them are over and done with right away, or at least soon afterward. It’s only our own sense of guilt that makes us relive them. I read once that guilt is helpful only if it lasts no more than five seconds. That makes a lot of sense.

What to do after you’ve said or done something stupid or wrong or unfortunate?

1. Admit what you did, without redirecting or avoiding responsibility.
2. If it helps, go ahead and feel guilty.
3. Seek forgiveness and make amends. (Forgive yourself!)
4. Decide how you’ll handle things differently next time.
5. Now stop feeling guilty, and get back to living (and enjoying) your life.

"Here I am, Lord"

There’s a hymn I love to sing: “Here I am, Lord. Is it I, Lord? I have heard you calling in the night…”

What have you been hearing?
How are you answering?

(long silent pause…)

I suspect this song’s a favorite with people who’ve begun to answer God’s call in their lives. Do you believe God has some purpose for you? Right now where you are, doing what you’re doing?

The last few months, I’ve been puzzling this question. What’s my purpose? Now, in this community, in this church? Obviously, I’m supposed to preach and teach and all the other things a pastor does. But that’s what any pastor would do. In what ways am I called to share the gift of who I am – not just my faith and seminary training, but my experience… my joys, pains & sorrows… my broken places?

God shapes us through our day-to-day living, through the ways we respond to the people and events in our lives, and through our reflecting back on them. What is God’s expectation for me now? Here? With them and with you?

These are deep questions and some would rather not go deep. But it’s my belief that you can’t know if you’re following God’s lead unless you ask the tough questions once in a while, and wrestle with the answers. So I’ve been wrestling.

What I’ve come up with is that I need to be open to using all the ways life has shaped me – good & bad – to shepherd, lead, or encourage whoever needs to hear these things from me. This might not be advisable – or even possible – for some people, but I’m a 50-something woman, come late to ministry, with no expectations or aspirations to progress in the institution called the Church. That being the case, I might as well be open if that openness might help anther person.

It seems there’s to be a lot less “private” me and a lot more “public” me.

I don’t mean to seem like a saint. I’m not. This is scary stuff. We humans are hardwired with a desire to be known, yes, but also with a need to protect ourselves from perceived threats. Vulnerability is hard for us. We crave it and fear it at the same time. Still, I’m pretty sure this is God’s call for me until further notice. Time to step out of my comfort zone – again.

One thing we don’t realize when we first answer God’s call is that God keeps at it – sometimes tweaking, other times changing our call entirely. Have you experienced this yet? What was it like for you?

“But, God, I’ve already turned my life around for you once (twice, three times).” Having listened to people’s stories, I suspect that after we’ve answered a couple times, we kind of come to expect it.

Clearly, God isn’t finished with us yet.

Wondering

“The following message has been prerecorded.” 

Remember when we used to hear that on TV? (Am I dating myself here?!)

During June, I will be in and out for one thing and another. Just to make sure I have something to publish each week, I’m writing a few entries ahead of time. This is one of them.

A dream died yesterday. I’m okay with it having died; it was time. Still, it was a good dream.

It might have ended sooner except for some accidents of fate. What do you think of coincidences? I’ve often agreed with people who said  God works within those moments drawing us closer to God’s way. But when things fall apart, even after that chance happening you thought sure was God-at-work, you might wonder.

Still, when I go to the hospital to visit someone, only to find out he’s been released, I'm glad for him, but I hope some good came out of my trip. That may be God is active within it all. Maybe my talking with that woman in the elevator was more important than I realized. (Still, when the “just-missed-them” thing happens twice in one day, as it did today, I do wonder.)

One possible coincidence is my having chosen Jeremiah 29:11 as this month’s memory verse: “I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.”

This verse reminds me that God’s intentions are plans, not dreams. Dreams are ephemeral, meant to be with us only briefly, then gone. Plans, on the other hand, are the objects of continuing effort. They’re the kinds of things God is after doing in our lives, and in the life of the world. Plans that, while they may be nothing like what we envision, are just what we, or somebody else, really need.

This verse gives me something to hold onto when a dream dies, or the work overwhelms me, or the diagnosis of someone I care about turns sour. If I just keep doing my part, I can trust God to keep plugging away whenever any of us leaves an opening.

I remember the poster from high school: “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” Without going into my philosophy about why we don’t see that truism much anymore, I suggest that God takes all the messes that we – you, me, the whole world – make of our lives, and God creates something good out of it.

I don’t mean to be Pollyanna-ish. We both know that sometimes life just sucks. (Sorry, but it does.) But somehow (read: through faith) I trust. And because of this I can choose to live in hope.