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This past Tuesday a few of us braved the cold (man was it frigid!), the crowds (like none I’ve ever seen), the Metro, the vendors, the barricades and the detours, to attend the 44th Presidential Inauguration. Here are some Random Thoughts…
There are few scenes so inspiring as the National Mall – Forrest Gump didn’t do it justice – being there is the thing. The monuments combined with the layout bring real meaning to the whole idea of Citizenship. I can’t think of a better venue for such an important moment in our Nation’s history.
Our Nation has taken an important step – I can tell you that some of the policies of our new President disturb me, but our history, in the areas of Race and Injustice do as well – ‘We the People’ of these United States broke historic ground in electing a man of color – a man who fifty years ago could not legally drink out of the same water fountain as any white American. You could sense the joy and relief in the smiles on the faces in the crowd. My heart was filled with pride and my eyes with tears. A long and sad drought has ended in America.
The collective Celebration was extraordinary – It was a massive party, really – we all sang American Pie with Garth Brooks, and Pride – In the Name of Love with U2. Aretha Franklin belted out, My Country ‘Tis of Thee, and we were mesmerized as Yo-Yo Ma and Yitzhak Perlman, along with a lovely ensemble, performed a John Williams piece for the occasion. I was reminded that when people are a Community many of the differences that often divide fall away. We would have attended regardless of who became our new President (everyone here needs to go to at least one, right?), but the nature of this moment was special and it felt that way. Would that the Church would be such a Community…
Presidents come and go – What a stunning image – of seeing one President who was leaving office, and another who was taking it – all on one stage. And it served as a reminder that World Leaders are humans who have life spans and terms of office. They are Public Servants and deserve our respect and honor, but they serve for a season. Even dictators one day die. Even if they are the first African-American President, they one day step down. Presidents are humans. They have huge responsibilities – but of the human order…
Jesus is still King – John calls Him “the ruler of the kings of the earth,” (Revelation 1:4-6) – while displaying His stunning credentials – that He “loves us and has freed us from our sins by his blood…” When all is said and done we can put an Inauguration, historic as it is with all the pomp and excitement, into perspective. We can enjoy it (and I did), and we can appreciate its significance – but in the end, what matters is that the Prince of Peace is our Redeemer – Jesus, the King of Kings. And His Kingdom will never end.
This is Good News.
peace.
This Christmas our family experienced something we never before have. Each year we set out to find a Christmas tree – not just any tree, mind you. If you know anything about us, you know that it has to be the perfect tree. I use the word, ‘we’ loosely because Katherine and our daughters are not nearly as concerned about the tree as I am (our son used to be part of the process, but now he goes after his own Christmas trees). It isn’t that they don’t care, rather it is that, in contrast to my perspective, theirs involves sanity.
We have driven throughout entire cities, spent hours and walked miles on tree farms looking for this tree. Needless to say, it hasn’t always been the most enjoyable experience. Many wannabe trees have availed themselves to my ruthless scrutiny only to be turned away for the most minor of imperfections – you would think I had no knowledge of the Gospel when it comes to trees. Suffice it to say that we have our stories (cringe)…
This year was different though. It happened to be one of the coldest days in November and the wind chill was excruciatingly harsh. So we went to a local high school and, amazingly, we picked the first tree we looked at. I bit my lip to not suggest we investigate just a ‘few’ more trees. Within a half hour we were home. It was still light outside! And marvel of marvels, everyone was happy – thrilled, in fact. But not only that, it turns out that this became our all-time favorite Christmas tree. Go figure.
Here is my encouragement for the New Year: Don’t waste your days and love pursuing the impossible. Perfection is an illusion. Instead, enjoy the Perfect One and rest in His Grace. The temptation to reject God’s Grace comes with the prideful suggestion that we can attain something that the Cross alone brings. So trust me with what you already know: You are going to sin, struggle, fall and fail in 2009. Therefore remind yourself – it never was about your ability to be perfect in the first place. Being unfinished is the most beautiful aspect of belonging to God’s family, because it means being loved and ‘becoming’ in God’s work of making us ‘mature and complete’ (James 1:4).
Settle on what Charlie Brown taught us years ago – there are no perfect trees, but there are many Beautiful ones (only, promise to gently remind me of this in November).
peace.
On Christmas Day our family was given the opportunity and privilege of volunteering, side-by-side, with others, at a Downtown Baltimore mission – to serve hundreds of homeless folks with a beautiful, hot, cooked dinner: Turkey, Ham, Mashed Potatoes & Gravy, Veggies, Sweet Potatoes, Bread, Cranberry Sauce, and Desert. By any measure it was a feast.
People poured in while Christmas music played. They sat at round tables with friends and strangers. Fortunately on this Christmas Day there was room for them to do so.
Some fell asleep while eating their dinners – undoubtedly they couldn’t afford to close their eyes on the street – so they would eat for a while and then their bodies would betray their hunger as they would nod off. But I’m glad that on Christmas Day there was room for them to rest their weary bones and lives.
Some entered while still under the influence of foreign substances – who knows – alcohol, drugs – it was something. But they came in, and when they did, there was a hot meal waiting for them. In their bodies, and in the hearts of the organizers (Helping Up Mission) there was room for something more on Christmas Day, and someone who didn’t want to hurt or judge them, instead welcomed them.
Wasted years, ugly scars, weathered skin and stories of all kinds of abuse and violence, marked many faces. Most would never get past square one in job interviews, but on this Christmas Day they were made to feel as though they appeared as angels – and they did – and that this room existed especially for them – and it did.
For a couple hours we shared with complete strangers the very thing Jesus wasn’t afforded when He was born – Room. Christ had not only had given us a shared space, but He had entered it. It was a beautiful Christmas Day.
What Good News.
peace.
Our first Christmas Eve Candlelighting service is less than 24 hours away – I’m glad. For me these services are the sweetest of the year. We come together as a community and celebrate a birth. It is all so human. This particular Christmas season I am struck by this reality – perhaps more than any other in recent memory. Jesus became one of us.
For some reason I am seeing everything through this prism this December. Even my own pain and sorrows are meant for something more than what they are, in and of themselves – they remind me that I am connected to every individual on this planet who shares the wounds of the Fall. Those who suffer have a brother in this sufferer. Our pain is not exactly the same – but it is every bit as human. We are inextricably linked in our humanity.
To think that Jesus entered into this mess is mind-boggling. A part of me wants to say that He shouldn’t have – in the same way my parents once (many years ago) stopped me from jumping between two people fighting on US-1 in Miami around midnight on New Year’s Eve. Something in me doesn’t want Jesus soiled with my mess. I don’t want to share what I am ashamed of.
Perhaps a better way of putting it is that He didn’t have to.
But He did.
I know He was born to die. We tell the ‘die’ part every time we speak the Gospel. But tonight, with Christmas Eve within reach, my heart is full with joy and thanksgiving for the ‘born’ part.
Jesus was Born. This is the Christmas Story. This is Good News.
peace.
I’m sure you’re not surprised to read that for pastors Christmas is a mixed bag. We live in this world of ministry and people, and whenever the two come together there exists a whole array of intertwined variables of human experiences. The continuum spans from unspeakable joy to insufferable sorrow. Sadly, more than 25 years of ministry have taught me that brokenness and pain don’t take a Christmas break. Families still fall apart. People still die. Jobs are lost. Sorrow, like joy, has a way of letting itself in. There are always people who grieve as others celebrate the season.
In some way it is the deepest of privileges for a pastor to be able to share the sorrows of the brokenhearted at Christmas. We are called to embrace and live out the Incarnation (a word that means being ‘in the flesh’) of Jesus as we touch those God has put under our care. But it is hard. We love the season and concurrently ‘feel’ the pain of those who suffer in it – and somehow we are called to help folks find the Gospel in Christmas.
I am the product of a family and home that loved Christmas and celebrated it to the fullest. My 79 year-old Mother left an excited voice message the other day informing us that she had gotten the Christmas decorations up in her home (I’m still tempted to say, ‘our home’). I remember our family loading into our new sleek, metallic blue 1966 Chevrolet Impala station-wagon for the purpose of driving through neighborhoods to see the lights on homes throughout the City (more on that Impala in another post). Mom had the holiday music playing from Thanksgiving Day, on. Dad was on the ladder hanging the lights. Finding the tree was a rite we embraced. Having upwards of one hundred people in our home on Christmas Day was part of our ‘Big Fat Armenian Wedding’ state-of-being. Our High School friends always found a way to get to that gathering.
Men played backgammon and watched sports. Music blared. Women sat and talked and laughed. Children ran around the yard and house and played with new toys. Cars came and went as though we were the one department store open on Christmas Day. And late that night our family enjoyed cleaning up. One of us always ended up flapping tablecloths with residue rice pilaf in the side yard, in the dark.
And we knew the ‘why’ of Christmas. Somehow presents and Santa and lights and bulbs didn’t divert us from Jesus – our parents deserve the credit – they helped us find the Gospel in the Christmas Story.
Years ago, a young entrepreneur named Juan – a man who attended our church in Miami – became a Christ-follower. Each year after, during one of our Christmas Eve Services, I handed him an envelope with a short explanation of some particular facet of the Christmas narrative, and how it related to the Gospel. He would then read it to his family later that evening, as he guided them in finding the Gospel in Christmas.
Actually what makes this possible is that first Christmas – the fulfillment of an eternally mapped out plan of God to redeem His people. In fact, the real story is that in Jesus, the Gospel finds us. We begin a search because we are unfinished, and somehow God’s Spirit makes us restless until we discover that He who was ‘born to us’ had been born in us.
This is Good News.
peace.
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