Some of us are old enough to remember when Dick Clark's "American Bandstand" was a big deal on Saturdays for teenagers. There was this playlist of top songs. They'd change from week to week. Sometimes a song was "hot" and climbing "up the charts." And sometimes the song was stalled or dropping. People just weren't buying it the way they were the week before.
Those of us who grew up in the Chicago area in the 1960's used to listen to the disk jockeys on WLS-AM and WCFL-AM play down (or up) the top 30 popular songs every afternoon. You went from #30 to #29 to #28. Until, right before the end of the show, the hotest song in the country was played.
Today my copy of Outreach magazine came in the mail. It's a pretty good resource for Christian leaders looking for creative ideas about reaching out...serving people in need...putting the Christian message to work in tangible ways...welcoming guests.
I'm sure the folks who put Outreach together are good folks. No doubt about that. I'm sure they mean well. But this special issue is covered in red and the headline on the front cover says: The Outreach 100 Largest-Fastest Growing Churches in America."
The churches are listed. Fastest growing. Largest. Overall. By denomination.
I was tempted to toss the magazine in the trash because nothing good can come from a list like this. Especially if your church -as our's last year- is on an attendance plateau. No one is beating down my door to ask how we are setting attendance records. God is doing some cool things at Trinity. Amazing things. Ordinary people are falling in love with God and putting their lives on the line in good ways. But we're not going to be among the top 100 in Outreach. We wouldn't be in the top 200 or 300. We're pretty big but we're not that big and we're not that hot.
Years ago, when the "church growth movement" was getting up a head of steam, our denomination used to hand out awards every year to "hot churches." It was sort of like recognizing the folks, in the insurance industry, who have made the "million dollar club."
A friend of mine watched these awards being handed out, and he said, "This is demonic." I thought he was a grumpy preacher who had been turned sour by life.
You know what? I think my friend was right.
I can't, for the life of me, figure out how the Kingdom of God is served by a Christian magazine putting on a special issue on The Outreach 100 Largest-Fastest Growing Churches in America. The ones who make it may be wise enough to thank God from whom all blessings flow, and celebrate what God is doing in their midst with appropriate humility. Or they find pride an unwelcome intruder...a parasite they can't get rid of. Perhaps they start feeling the pressure to keep it going...keep it growing...push the pedal to the floor and keep it there.
Those churches that are out there, doing their best for God, blessing their communities in the large and small ways that healthy churches do, but aren't on the list of the 100 Largest or 100 Fastest Growing may succumb to some kind of despair. Find themselves looking down on, devaluing, the blessed, good stuff the risen Christ has been doing in them and through them. They may feel like failures because their tech team and resources can't compare to the half-million dollars a nearby mega-church has invested in lights and sound systems and projection screens.
It's a good thing to be reminded that God is doing good things in big ways. Yep. It's a good thing to hear stories of churches where the Spirit of God stirred people to break through all sorts of racial or geographical or attendance barriers.
I think our preoccupation with size is demonic. Healthy churches have this way of growing. Jesus talks, in John 15, about the vine that is pruned so it can bear fruit. Grow. But listing the 100 largest or fastest growing churches is evidence of the poverty of our spirituality in North America.
We're like some kind of religious disk jockey, counting down the top hits. It's a devilish activity.
Jesus wants us to focus on faithfulness: the Devil wants us to fixate on size.
Monday, September 29, 2008
"How Are You Doing?" Takes Time.
One of regular parts of life for me is the daily trip to the local YMCA. (Okay, let's be honest: It's a time I make about four or five times a week... not daily!)
After awhile you begin to notice the other "regulars." There is Betty, the woman who sits at the registration desk and "buzzes" us through the locked doors. It took me awhile to win her over with my enthusiastic "Good morning, Betty" greeting. But after a few months she started smiling and making sure I had the best towel in the stack to use after my shower. There is Dick, the retiree, who monitors the Cybex (light weights) room and the cardio area (stairclimbers and treadmills and other cool stuff). There is Ernie, the ex-Navy guy who is in his mid 70's and steps carefully, painfully, onto and off of the machines.
And there is another guy. I'll call him "Thomas." Thomas runs the laundry at the Y. He picks up the towels from the locker rooms. He replaces soap in the dispensers in the showers. He cleans out the drains when they're clogged.
I've been going to the Elkhart Y for more than 12 years, and it wasn't until about 8 months ago that I learned Thomas' name. When I would see him I would say, "Good morning, Thomas." Or I would thank him for what he does, "Thanks for taking care of the towels and the shower room, Thomas." And when I would be on my way out I'd say, "Have a good day, Thomas."
What did I get back? Nothing. Maybe a grunt. But usually nothing.
Then, a week ago, he walked up behind me and said, "How are you doing?" I didn't say anything because I thought he was talking to another guy standing nearby. Then, I realized he was talking to me!
For the last week every time he sees me, Thomas says, "Good morning." Or, "How are you doing?" Or, "Have a good day."
I am sort of surprised. I didn't think our relationship was ever going to move off a grunt. Not get to this place.
I've been thinking about this all day. Since this morning when Thomas asked, again, how I was doing.
It's a reminder, I think, that sometimes "How are you doing?" takes time. Relationships require patience. You just keep plugging away.
Sort of like putting out a humming bird feeder. You get it all set out, just right, but nothing happens. You keep cleaning the feeder, mixing the sugar and water, filling it up, and watching...waiting. It seems like a silly, hopeless thing to do. Then, oneday, you notice this small bird hovering, darting, moving, feeding.
In my line of work we encourage people to reach out to other people. Take the initiative in showing care and interest. Listening to the other person's life. In my line of work -as a pastor- we nudge people to build relationships, and invite others to swing by our church and give our donuts and coffee, our love and heart, our groups and worship, a try. "Go make disciples," we say quoting Matthew 28. "Go tell others."
I know it can be a frustrating thing. You mention to your lunch buddy, every year in November, the possibility of coming to Christmas Eve worship with you. You talk to kid on the soccer team about youth fellowship or summer camp. Nothing. Nada. (Is that how you spell that?) You feel like you are in a rowboat and you are nudging an iceberg the size of Texas.
Maybe it never moves. Maybe nothing changes.
Or, maybe, oneday you turn around and Thomas is saying, "How are you doing?"
After awhile you begin to notice the other "regulars." There is Betty, the woman who sits at the registration desk and "buzzes" us through the locked doors. It took me awhile to win her over with my enthusiastic "Good morning, Betty" greeting. But after a few months she started smiling and making sure I had the best towel in the stack to use after my shower. There is Dick, the retiree, who monitors the Cybex (light weights) room and the cardio area (stairclimbers and treadmills and other cool stuff). There is Ernie, the ex-Navy guy who is in his mid 70's and steps carefully, painfully, onto and off of the machines.
And there is another guy. I'll call him "Thomas." Thomas runs the laundry at the Y. He picks up the towels from the locker rooms. He replaces soap in the dispensers in the showers. He cleans out the drains when they're clogged.
I've been going to the Elkhart Y for more than 12 years, and it wasn't until about 8 months ago that I learned Thomas' name. When I would see him I would say, "Good morning, Thomas." Or I would thank him for what he does, "Thanks for taking care of the towels and the shower room, Thomas." And when I would be on my way out I'd say, "Have a good day, Thomas."
What did I get back? Nothing. Maybe a grunt. But usually nothing.
Then, a week ago, he walked up behind me and said, "How are you doing?" I didn't say anything because I thought he was talking to another guy standing nearby. Then, I realized he was talking to me!
For the last week every time he sees me, Thomas says, "Good morning." Or, "How are you doing?" Or, "Have a good day."
I am sort of surprised. I didn't think our relationship was ever going to move off a grunt. Not get to this place.
I've been thinking about this all day. Since this morning when Thomas asked, again, how I was doing.
It's a reminder, I think, that sometimes "How are you doing?" takes time. Relationships require patience. You just keep plugging away.
Sort of like putting out a humming bird feeder. You get it all set out, just right, but nothing happens. You keep cleaning the feeder, mixing the sugar and water, filling it up, and watching...waiting. It seems like a silly, hopeless thing to do. Then, oneday, you notice this small bird hovering, darting, moving, feeding.
In my line of work we encourage people to reach out to other people. Take the initiative in showing care and interest. Listening to the other person's life. In my line of work -as a pastor- we nudge people to build relationships, and invite others to swing by our church and give our donuts and coffee, our love and heart, our groups and worship, a try. "Go make disciples," we say quoting Matthew 28. "Go tell others."
I know it can be a frustrating thing. You mention to your lunch buddy, every year in November, the possibility of coming to Christmas Eve worship with you. You talk to kid on the soccer team about youth fellowship or summer camp. Nothing. Nada. (Is that how you spell that?) You feel like you are in a rowboat and you are nudging an iceberg the size of Texas.
Maybe it never moves. Maybe nothing changes.
Or, maybe, oneday you turn around and Thomas is saying, "How are you doing?"
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
New Creation and Jump Ropes.
God has a way of stretching us. In some surprising ways. Some of the stretching is painful beyond belief. A job loss. Unanswered prayers (at least they're not answered in the ways we want them answered!) The break up of a relationship. And other times the stretching is surprising... an easy blessing...that makes us smile and shake our heads in disbelief.
At our church we -like many- we have a mid week program. We call it TNT. Which sounds kind of silly and a little explosive. (TNT stands for "Trinity Night Together.") There is a meal...worship time...classes. One element every Wednesday night is an "open gym" for elementary age children. Kids from inside the church and outside the church (our church and neighborhood have sort of blended together so I'm not sure where each starts and stops).
Tonight I went into the gym to hang out with the kids. Those few minutes are a blast! Some of the 3rd and 4th grade girls turned to me and thrust a jump rope in my hand...asked me to swing it around so they could jump.
I had a basketball in one hand...I thought I was going into the gym to shoot hoops with the boys. But I swung the jump rope. And there was a lot of concentrated joy in that place...and it sort of soaked into me.
They don't tell you in seminary that you are going to end up playing jump rope with 2nd, 3rd and 4th graders. It might be a good idea if they did. It might be a good idea if they told us that carrying a cross will be heart crushing on some days, but there will be moments when some little girl with pigtails will grab us by the arm and say, "Pastor Mark, hold the rope and swing it for us!"
I'd never -in all my years- really swung a jump rope like that. It felt a little...uh...different. But good.
God keeps teaching me new lessons. Some hard. And some delightfully easy.
At our church we -like many- we have a mid week program. We call it TNT. Which sounds kind of silly and a little explosive. (TNT stands for "Trinity Night Together.") There is a meal...worship time...classes. One element every Wednesday night is an "open gym" for elementary age children. Kids from inside the church and outside the church (our church and neighborhood have sort of blended together so I'm not sure where each starts and stops).
Tonight I went into the gym to hang out with the kids. Those few minutes are a blast! Some of the 3rd and 4th grade girls turned to me and thrust a jump rope in my hand...asked me to swing it around so they could jump.
I had a basketball in one hand...I thought I was going into the gym to shoot hoops with the boys. But I swung the jump rope. And there was a lot of concentrated joy in that place...and it sort of soaked into me.
They don't tell you in seminary that you are going to end up playing jump rope with 2nd, 3rd and 4th graders. It might be a good idea if they did. It might be a good idea if they told us that carrying a cross will be heart crushing on some days, but there will be moments when some little girl with pigtails will grab us by the arm and say, "Pastor Mark, hold the rope and swing it for us!"
I'd never -in all my years- really swung a jump rope like that. It felt a little...uh...different. But good.
God keeps teaching me new lessons. Some hard. And some delightfully easy.
Monday, September 22, 2008
What's Overhead?
Sometimes life feels like one of those crab boats bouncing around in the Bering Sea. People say that being a commercial fisherman is one of the most dangerous jobs in the world.
Crabbing in the Bering Sea has nothing on just doing ordinary life. Navigating your way from Sunday through Saturday. A friend of mine, who used to work the second shift for a large city police force, said that by the end of the week he would begin to think that the whole world had lost its mind. "And," he would add, "I could tell I was about to lose my own mind because of the craziness out there!"
Like one of those boats bouncing around on the sea, life rolls us. We are in danger of losing our footing, or we just go over...grabbing at doors and bunks and people standing nearby to stop our slide.
There are odd little habits we pick up along the way, aren't there? One of the things I do is check the sky first thing in the morning. I do the same thing at night.
The alarm goes off, I crawl out of bed, and head out the front door. I pick up two local newspapers that are delivered to the house, and then I stop. I stand three feet from the front door and look straight up.
I do that for two reasons. The first reason is to see if the sky is clear or if we are in for a cloudy day here in northern Indiana. The second reason is to locate a star that I have come to count on. I don't know the name of the star. I don't know the constellation in which it finds itself. I just know the star is right above my head...straight up. When I've found my star I step back in the house and move on into the day.
There is something about knowing the star is where it needs to be. It tells me that no matter how crazy life can get, I'm still here...and I'm not lost. Not to God. The star above my head reminds me of the God who doesn't lose sight of me. The God who always is.
What was it God said to Moses when Moses demanded to know the name of God? "I AM...I WILL BE WHO I WILL BE." Jesus, in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 6), tells us not to be anxious - God has his eye on us. God cares for us.
In the early morning dark I step outside the front door, pick up my newspapers, and locate my star. It's just something I need to do.
Crabbing in the Bering Sea has nothing on just doing ordinary life. Navigating your way from Sunday through Saturday. A friend of mine, who used to work the second shift for a large city police force, said that by the end of the week he would begin to think that the whole world had lost its mind. "And," he would add, "I could tell I was about to lose my own mind because of the craziness out there!"
Like one of those boats bouncing around on the sea, life rolls us. We are in danger of losing our footing, or we just go over...grabbing at doors and bunks and people standing nearby to stop our slide.
There are odd little habits we pick up along the way, aren't there? One of the things I do is check the sky first thing in the morning. I do the same thing at night.
The alarm goes off, I crawl out of bed, and head out the front door. I pick up two local newspapers that are delivered to the house, and then I stop. I stand three feet from the front door and look straight up.
I do that for two reasons. The first reason is to see if the sky is clear or if we are in for a cloudy day here in northern Indiana. The second reason is to locate a star that I have come to count on. I don't know the name of the star. I don't know the constellation in which it finds itself. I just know the star is right above my head...straight up. When I've found my star I step back in the house and move on into the day.
There is something about knowing the star is where it needs to be. It tells me that no matter how crazy life can get, I'm still here...and I'm not lost. Not to God. The star above my head reminds me of the God who doesn't lose sight of me. The God who always is.
What was it God said to Moses when Moses demanded to know the name of God? "I AM...I WILL BE WHO I WILL BE." Jesus, in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 6), tells us not to be anxious - God has his eye on us. God cares for us.
In the early morning dark I step outside the front door, pick up my newspapers, and locate my star. It's just something I need to do.
Why Isn't Anyone Using the "S" Word?
As the pennant races in baseball wind down, the political race between Senator Barack Obama and Senator John McCain heats up. I listen to both men closely. This election is a "big deal" for our country, I believe.
One news channel (I probably ought to watch more baseball and less 24 hour news channels!) has a habit of putting video clips of both men speaking side by side. It allows us to listen to both men "in their own words."
I keep listening.
I keep listening for the "S" word.
I keep listening for the word "sacrifice."
But I haven't heard it. Or, if it has been spoken, I have missed it. Both candidates tell us what we want to hear...they both go through a litany of needs and tell us they will see the government does something to meet our needs...satisfy our wants. I am waiting for one of these two men to get honest enough, to respect the American people enough, that they will say something like this: "We are facing great challenges, and those challenges -whether in education, the revitalization of our great cities, the rebuilding of healthy family life, the battle against fundamentalist terrorism, the recovery of our economy, the threat of global warming- can be overcome but only if we are all willing to sacrifice. So I am challenging you -all of us- to think beyond our own narrow interests and look to the greater good. All of us are going to have to give up things we want, all of us are going to have to give, or we aren't going to make it."
The ironic thing is that sacrifice turns out -in the end- to be selfish. When we are willing to sacrifice so that cities can be rebuilt, terrorists can be overwhelmed by a vision of justice and a global community committed to peace, families can be healthy and functional, and the planet can heal then we will have done something good for ourselves...and our grandchildren...and their grandchildren. Sacrifice turns out to be a selfish thing (in the very best sense of the word).
Selfishness leads to short-sighted answers that please us today but turn out to be no answers at all!
Paul, in Philippians 2, encourages us to look not just to our own selfish interests but to the interests of others. Doing our best to copy a certain Jewish carpenter from Nazareth by the name of Jesus.
Okay, Senator McCain and Senator Obama: we're waiting. Do something risky. Try something bold. Don't tell us what we want to hear but tell us what we need to hear. Take a deep breath and speak the "S" word. We can take it. We're big boys and girls. There is more to us than you think.
One news channel (I probably ought to watch more baseball and less 24 hour news channels!) has a habit of putting video clips of both men speaking side by side. It allows us to listen to both men "in their own words."
I keep listening.
I keep listening for the "S" word.
I keep listening for the word "sacrifice."
But I haven't heard it. Or, if it has been spoken, I have missed it. Both candidates tell us what we want to hear...they both go through a litany of needs and tell us they will see the government does something to meet our needs...satisfy our wants. I am waiting for one of these two men to get honest enough, to respect the American people enough, that they will say something like this: "We are facing great challenges, and those challenges -whether in education, the revitalization of our great cities, the rebuilding of healthy family life, the battle against fundamentalist terrorism, the recovery of our economy, the threat of global warming- can be overcome but only if we are all willing to sacrifice. So I am challenging you -all of us- to think beyond our own narrow interests and look to the greater good. All of us are going to have to give up things we want, all of us are going to have to give, or we aren't going to make it."
The ironic thing is that sacrifice turns out -in the end- to be selfish. When we are willing to sacrifice so that cities can be rebuilt, terrorists can be overwhelmed by a vision of justice and a global community committed to peace, families can be healthy and functional, and the planet can heal then we will have done something good for ourselves...and our grandchildren...and their grandchildren. Sacrifice turns out to be a selfish thing (in the very best sense of the word).
Selfishness leads to short-sighted answers that please us today but turn out to be no answers at all!
Paul, in Philippians 2, encourages us to look not just to our own selfish interests but to the interests of others. Doing our best to copy a certain Jewish carpenter from Nazareth by the name of Jesus.
Okay, Senator McCain and Senator Obama: we're waiting. Do something risky. Try something bold. Don't tell us what we want to hear but tell us what we need to hear. Take a deep breath and speak the "S" word. We can take it. We're big boys and girls. There is more to us than you think.
Grace as Credit.
One of the short detours in my life took place during college. My Grandpa Owen had connections in the banking business, and somehow he got me hired -for the summer- by a South Bend bank. They figured that if I was Bill Owen's grandson I must have something on the ball when it came to numbers and finance, and they foolishly put me in their "officer trainee program." The bank survived two summers' of my well meaning but inept performance, and then they decided never to have me back.
So numbers...finance...banking...is not my thing.
The current financial crisis in the United States, right now, seems to be profound. I wouldn't pretend to understand what has caused it and what the details of the government "bail out" should be. As near as I can figure the real critical moment was the drying up of the credit markets.
One financial expert said that credit is to the economy what oil is to an internal combustion engine: it keeps everything moving. So the credit market tightened to the point where no one was going to be able to do anything...build buildings, hire new workers, buy land.
I've been thinking about the role that credit (appropriate, responsible credit - not out of control "anything goes" kind of credit) plays in the economy, and wondering if there might be some parallels with the Christian notion of grace. Forgiveness...unmerited love, that's what grace is about. Paul, in 1 Corinthians 13, talks about a kind of love that doesn't keep track of wrongs but rejoices in the right. That doesn't rejoice in the wrong but rejoices in the right.
Grace is the oil that keeps relationships going...that helps us hang in there with one another over the long haul. We are well into my 13th year as senior pastor at Trinity Church, and I find myself remarking -now and then- "We've been together long enough that I have given you all sorts of reasons to write me off." Give someone like me long enough, and I am going to stumble...make bad calls...until my humanness becomes almost more than anyone can bear.
We won't make it together if we don't extend the relational credit -grace- to one another. Grace "primes the pump" for a new chapter. Except that with grace there is no compounding interest we have to pay back.
One of the opportunities I have, as a Christian pastor, is to meet with engaged couples. They often tell me that they want to be passionately in love with one another after 50 years. They tell me that they want to be holding hands when they are 80. They tell me that they want their kisses to be tender and passionate decades after the day of their wedding.
A key to that is living by grace. Forgetting the junk of yesterday, giving the other person another chance, and moving on. Because when the credit market we know as "grace" dries up then everything stops. The relationship, like earth dried by the merciless sun, cracks wide open and blows away.
So numbers...finance...banking...is not my thing.
The current financial crisis in the United States, right now, seems to be profound. I wouldn't pretend to understand what has caused it and what the details of the government "bail out" should be. As near as I can figure the real critical moment was the drying up of the credit markets.
One financial expert said that credit is to the economy what oil is to an internal combustion engine: it keeps everything moving. So the credit market tightened to the point where no one was going to be able to do anything...build buildings, hire new workers, buy land.
I've been thinking about the role that credit (appropriate, responsible credit - not out of control "anything goes" kind of credit) plays in the economy, and wondering if there might be some parallels with the Christian notion of grace. Forgiveness...unmerited love, that's what grace is about. Paul, in 1 Corinthians 13, talks about a kind of love that doesn't keep track of wrongs but rejoices in the right. That doesn't rejoice in the wrong but rejoices in the right.
Grace is the oil that keeps relationships going...that helps us hang in there with one another over the long haul. We are well into my 13th year as senior pastor at Trinity Church, and I find myself remarking -now and then- "We've been together long enough that I have given you all sorts of reasons to write me off." Give someone like me long enough, and I am going to stumble...make bad calls...until my humanness becomes almost more than anyone can bear.
We won't make it together if we don't extend the relational credit -grace- to one another. Grace "primes the pump" for a new chapter. Except that with grace there is no compounding interest we have to pay back.
One of the opportunities I have, as a Christian pastor, is to meet with engaged couples. They often tell me that they want to be passionately in love with one another after 50 years. They tell me that they want to be holding hands when they are 80. They tell me that they want their kisses to be tender and passionate decades after the day of their wedding.
A key to that is living by grace. Forgetting the junk of yesterday, giving the other person another chance, and moving on. Because when the credit market we know as "grace" dries up then everything stops. The relationship, like earth dried by the merciless sun, cracks wide open and blows away.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Turn Down the Moon.
It's become an important part of life, these pilgrimmages from Elkhart, Indiana to Columbus, Ohio. Ever since Ella, our one and only grandchild, was born last summer we've discovered the 4 1/2 hour drive is very doable. Interesting how the miles go by pretty easily when you know whose waiting for you at the end of the journey?
We make the trip about every three or four weeks. So last night, after our church's Trinity Night Together mid-week program, we threw some stuff in the car and headed east and south. We decided, because of the weather forecast for the weekend and moon we expected to see in the sky, to travel in the silver, 1999 Miata. Wedged in, balancing Arby's sandwiches, we set off.
The western sky was going from orange to deep blue as we headed off. Couldn't see any sign of the moon until we turned south at Angola. It hung low and orange on the horizon. We headed south, the moon climbed higher, and began to turn bright and silver. Unobscured, any more, by the haze clinging to fields damp with the dew.
We traded places in Van Wert, Ohio after a quick stop at McDonald's. The cool thing about not being the driver is that you get to lean back, look up at the stars and the moon and the occasional cloud. Or, in mid summer when the lightning bugs are doing their mysterious, awesome thing, look straight out to the right of the car as you drive down Hoosier roads and see darkened fields of corn lit up by by wave after wave of lightning bugs.
So I was looking for stars last night. The lightning bugs have done their thing and they are gone. But the stars were stunning. There was only this one problem: the moon was booming away and its light sent all stars
-except the brightest ones- into hiding. It was hopeless. Too much moonlight!
I pulled my baseball cap down low, tried to find something on the radio, and closed my eyes.
So what does the moment mean? Is this an opportunity to talk about all the noise and activity that washes out the mystery of life...obscures our view of God? Light pollution is a problem, isn't it, and people are beginning to say we need to let the night be night. Stop lightning up the darkness. So we can use less energy and see the stars more clearly.
Or is the lesson that sometimes you may be looking for stars and the plan changes? The moon shows up, hogs the show, says "tonight is all about me," and so you just lay stunned and blessed by that amazing silver orb climbing into the dark night?
"Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory above the heavens. When I consider the your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what are mere mortals that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them?" (Psalm 8, TNIV)
Always on the way to Emmaus,
Mark
Note: This is a new adventure. I look forward to sharing it with you.
We make the trip about every three or four weeks. So last night, after our church's Trinity Night Together mid-week program, we threw some stuff in the car and headed east and south. We decided, because of the weather forecast for the weekend and moon we expected to see in the sky, to travel in the silver, 1999 Miata. Wedged in, balancing Arby's sandwiches, we set off.
The western sky was going from orange to deep blue as we headed off. Couldn't see any sign of the moon until we turned south at Angola. It hung low and orange on the horizon. We headed south, the moon climbed higher, and began to turn bright and silver. Unobscured, any more, by the haze clinging to fields damp with the dew.
We traded places in Van Wert, Ohio after a quick stop at McDonald's. The cool thing about not being the driver is that you get to lean back, look up at the stars and the moon and the occasional cloud. Or, in mid summer when the lightning bugs are doing their mysterious, awesome thing, look straight out to the right of the car as you drive down Hoosier roads and see darkened fields of corn lit up by by wave after wave of lightning bugs.
So I was looking for stars last night. The lightning bugs have done their thing and they are gone. But the stars were stunning. There was only this one problem: the moon was booming away and its light sent all stars
-except the brightest ones- into hiding. It was hopeless. Too much moonlight!
I pulled my baseball cap down low, tried to find something on the radio, and closed my eyes.
So what does the moment mean? Is this an opportunity to talk about all the noise and activity that washes out the mystery of life...obscures our view of God? Light pollution is a problem, isn't it, and people are beginning to say we need to let the night be night. Stop lightning up the darkness. So we can use less energy and see the stars more clearly.
Or is the lesson that sometimes you may be looking for stars and the plan changes? The moon shows up, hogs the show, says "tonight is all about me," and so you just lay stunned and blessed by that amazing silver orb climbing into the dark night?
"Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory above the heavens. When I consider the your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what are mere mortals that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them?" (Psalm 8, TNIV)
Always on the way to Emmaus,
Mark
Note: This is a new adventure. I look forward to sharing it with you.
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