If You Post It, They Will Pray.

You can now submit your prayers to God on-line.

You don't have to go to a mosque.

You don't have to go to a synagogue.

You don't have to go to a church.

You don't have to risk getting close to another living soul -in person.

You can go to prayabout.com and ipraytoday.com and post your prayer requests. There have been toll-free long distance services, according to the article in today's New York Times, where you could ask strangers to pray for you.

Now there are prayer networks on the internet. The sites, according to the story by Allen Salkin, are not all Christian. But they share a common belief that "the more people pray for something, it has a better chance of happening."

The most common prayers are, the article says, for physical healing. The second most requested prayers are for inner peace. Over the last few months the number of people requesting prayers about financial concerns have increased sharply.

The founder of prayabout.com, Rodger Desai, is quoted as saying: "The Internet is a perfect place to create a market for support and hope."

There are good things about this phenomenon. The fact the web sites exist is a confirmation of the spiritual hunger that can turn us all towards God. It is encouraging to see people recognizing the power of prayer, and to witness people caring about one another.

But a "perfect market for support and hope?" It seems pretty clear to me God had a better idea when God created the church. On our worst days, I know, the church is like a bad web site that deserves to crash. And we do. We mess up. We talk of grace and mutter words of judgment about one another. We talk about loving the world, feeding the hungry and welcoming the stranger and clothing the naked, and then we can get so caught up in our own stuff that we are blind to the neighbor in need. So we have our bad days. But we have a lot of good days, too.

A lot of good days.

Approaching the sanctuary this morning I was approached by a woman who dissolved in tears. She was whispering into my "bad" ear and I had to turn my head to catch what she was saying. Her newly born grandchild was having physical complications, and was being considered for transport to a regional medical center. I wrapped my arms around her, I listened to her, and others quietly approached. She was surrounded by grace. Offered by living, breathing people.

After worship I noticed people standing around, in clusters, talking... listening...laughing. Toddlers were toddling...friends were telling friends they would be praying...a couple now living 3,000 miles away came over and we talked. They told me about their new life...their new chapter. There were these clusters of caring all around the room.

There is something in the human heart that hungers for real community, I believe. Person-to-person pray. In person. Doesn't matter how big Google gets...whatever the internet can do pales in comparison to the prayer support of the smallest, most rural gathering of genuine Jesus followers.

Just Being.

Thanksgiving was always a pretty big deal in our family. My dad, a physician, would make a big deal out of stuffing the turkey and sewing it up with some old surgical instruments. (I know - it sounds nuts.) My folks would work together to prepare the food.

Grandparents would usually be around. Siblings were all there around the table. At the end of the meal we would play a "fill in the blank" story game called "Benny and Becky's Just Right Thanksgiving." It first appeared in some national periodical back in the 30's, I think.

I've discovered that this week is my favorite holiday of the year. Oh, there's no question that Christmas and Easter are more important to us all in so many ways. They remind us of God's presence and saving power. They bring us face-to-face with a God whose power and love are breath-taking. Cosmos changing. And July 4th has its special charms. Time at the lake, maybe a round or two of skiing, fireworks over the water in the evening. But Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday.

Not because of the food. (Although Sharon is an amazing cook and always takes better care of us than we deserve.) Not because of the Macy's Parade. Not because we all get a chance to watch the Detroit Lions lose another game.

No, it is because our family gets the chance to just be together. Pastors, at both Easter and Christmas, are pretty focused on preaching and leading worship at those times of the year. We always seem to be coming and going. But the week of Thanksgiving, after preaching a brief word in the beautiful, simple, short Thanksgiving Eve service we have at Trinity, I just sort of stop. I hang out with our family. This week two of our grown sons returned home with their families. Our 16-month old granddaughter was around.

We hang out...eat...watch some football...maybe slip up to Chicago for a day...do dishes...maybe catch at movie on DVD here at home...read news headlines to one another as we sit at the kitchen table and look at The Elkhart Truth, South Bend Tribune, and New York Times. It's good. We just waste time together...share space...breathe the same air.

I love it. As good as it is I ache as the house begins to empty. My siblings head off late on Thanksgiving day. A few days later our kids go off. As Ella is carried to her car by her Mom she looks back at the house...at us. Is it my imagination or is she thinking, "Dang! Is the party over?"

There is a fire in the fireplace. I've just finished the NY Times. Caught some of Indiana's game with Cornell and watched some of the Jets' game with the Broncos. The house is quiet.

And I am so thankful. Which is right where I started this week: thankful.

Black Friday.

That's what they call today: "Black Friday."

Retailers open their doors -some of them- at 4 a.m. They feature a few extraordinary deals in every store. So crowds line up in the early morning dark, and -I'm told- the whole scene is a little crazy as people are let in to fight (sometimes literally!) for that particular item.

I don't know what to hope for.

Experts in economics tell us that consumer spending is the energy that drives the economy. Keeps factories and stores open. Provides jobs.

Others have rightly noted that an economic system dependent on constant spending, constant consuming, leads to an exhausted, depeleted planet inhabited by people who are -in the words of the hymn- "rich in things and poor in soul." If we keep spending the way we are, keep working the planet the way we are, this could have catastrophic consequences.

One of the few positives in the current economic downturn has been the realization that we don't need to have more. That we already have more than enough stuff. And that maybe it is time for us -in North America and Western Europe- to move beyond the foolishness of thinking that the next trinket we can buy will bring us happiness. Maybe this is the moment we re-discover the value of relationships and spirituality. Maybe this is the time when we see that who we are, our being, is more important than what we own or drive.

So on this "Black Friday" do we pull for the shoppers to turn out in full force, or do we hope that we'll continue to invest more in relationships than stuff?

I don't know.

Guess I'll let God sort it out. We're off to Chicago. Not to shop (I think) but to watch people, walk the streets, see the lights, and just hang out together on this beautiful day. Maybe I'll just step in one store or two...

Immovable Objects May Not Be.

Some things in life just never seem to change. The Detroit Lions losing on Thanksgiving Day. Leaves falling from the trees in northern Indiana in October and November. Cubs' fans waiting until next year. You know... there are some things that never seem to change.

That's true in our personal lives and relationships. I'm the oldest of seven children. Five of us have survived. Sometimes it seems like life has frozen us into a particular posture or position. Nothing seems to change.

One of my siblings and I have spent years sort of half seeing one another. There has been this thing -sadness, fear, resentment, a hope for change you dare not recognize because things seem stuck- between us. We'd smile at one another. We'd talk with one another. We'd offer a hug to one another when we would visit and when we would leave. But there was this thing between... Several times I would gulp, take a deep breath, and say something. Several times I would say, "Is there something we should talk about...because things don't seem right?" We never did...we never could.

Then, a week ago in Chicago, the two of us sat down in a restaurant. Just the two of us. We sat, we talked, we ate...for a couple of hours.

Do you know what? The thing between us is gone. It melted. Oh, we may stop now and then and talk about what was happening in that chapter when we had a tough time seeing one another...approaching one another. But that big thing...that deep thing...between us is gone.

I think it is a God-sized miracle. Just huge. I wouldn't predict to understand it. Like the leper who is healed in the 17th chapter of Luke, I just thank God for it.

This isn't the first time I've seen God pull off something like this. A friend in Mishawaka had a terrible relationship with his adult son. There had been no relationship to speak of for years. And then, oneday, the adult son called up and said, "Hi, Dad." The distance between them shrank to nothing over a period of days.

My old preaching professor, Will Willimon, has said that one of the most extraordinary things about Jesus is his call to change. Because his very call to change assumes that the things we think can never change -aren't so immovable.

You live through a moment when immovable things move, when the unchangable changes, and you don't smile with doubt when you read in the Bible about people walking through the sea or water coming out of a rock.

Reminders of the Presence.

There is a stick about 8 inches long lying on the floor of our car. It's up front on the passenger's side. And, if you look in the back seat, you'll find a yellowing ginko leaf.

Every time I get in the car I see these two small things, which appear to be so out of place, and I smile.

Two weeks ago we were in Columbus, Ohio. We had four days with our 16-month old granddaughter, Ella. (Aka "Beautiful Ella.") We walked her to a nearby park where she picked up the stick and began hitting different pieces of playground equipment with it. She would rap it on the metal slide and hear one sound. She'd hit it against the plastic steps and hear another sound. She would whack it against the trunk of a tree and hear something very different.

Sort of simple. But a delight nontheless.

Then, on the way back home from the park, I pushed her little, pink car (she has a steering wheel and everything) over to the side of the street where piles of leaves had gathered. (I think it was some kind of leaf conference or reunion...) I picked up the ginko leaf and handed it to Ella. She didn't let go of it when we put here in the car seat.

It's been two weeks. The stick is still on the floor of our car. And the leaf is still on the back seat.

I open the door of the car, even on this snowy day, see the leaf and the stick - and smile.

They are reminders of the presence. Of one who is loved. And whose very existence makes everything else different...and better.

The other day I looked down, noticed the stick, and thought of the scene described in Luke 22:19 (RSV): "And he took bread, and when he had given thanks he broke it and gave it to them, saying, 'This is my body.'"

A reminder of the presence.

Falling Apart - Gracefully.

Health is something I have never taken for granted. The ability to get out of a chair, run across the yard, study the snow filtering down past the pale, pink light of the streetlight across the way: all of it is a miracle.

A friend of mine told me that at 50 everything seems to fall apart. I smiled when he said that. As someone who gets to the Y to workout three or four times a week, and looks surprisingly young (!), I knew the "everything seems to fall apart" statement just didn't apply to me.

My 57 must be 50 in "preacher years." About a year my eyes started giving me fits. The doctor couldn't figure it out. Things just get blurry now and then. Then, things clear up!

Late this summer I pointed out a bump on the top of my head that looked suspicious. Two weeks ago I had a second small bit of surgery on that...turned out to be a skin cancer. Nothing to write home about but still... (I did ask the doctor if he would take enough that the results would be an "on the cheap" face lift. He just smiles at my stupid jokes!)

Then, about 9 weeks ago I was skiing with friends at Hamilton Lake, and my buddy pushed the throttle forward on his high-powered boat. I was in the water, on skis, and I could feel something tear in my right hand. There have been occasional periods of numbness in my right hand and so I went to see the doctor today - and he is sending me to a hand surgeon.

Told Dr. Yoder I want the right arm in great shape by the time summer rolls around. There is another season of skiing just around the corner!

So I guess I am mortal. That isn't a bad thing to remember.

Even when things break or fall off or wear out, you know, God has blessed us with these bodies. Psalm 139:14 reminds us that we have been fearfully and wonderfully made.

I still don't take every blessed day for granted. It's all a miracle.

Falling apart -physically- is a part of life. My goal is do that gracefully! Honestly, I've got no complaints...not really.

The Election: Can You Feel Your Hands & Toes?

Something has shifted in the republic.

Polls had steadily predicted that the candidacy of Senator Barack Obama was overwhelming the cause of Senator John McCain. Experts speculated that some Anglo voters, in the privacy of the voting booth, simply could not bring themselves to vote for an African-American for such a high office. So the polls predicted an Obama win but experts cautioned us that the results might be much closer than predicted.

By 9:30 or so in the evening, Eastern Standard Time, voting results showed that the citizens of the United States were electing a non-Anglo to the office of President. (Note: everyone refers to Barack as "African-American" but his mother was Anglo. So I'm not sure what criteria folks are using to designate him as African-American. Honestly, as the lines between the races continue to blur in America they are going to do just that....blur. We will all, as Barack said this week in referring to himself, be some kind of "mutt.")

Something has shifted in the republic.

As someone who follows politics closely, and who studied political science at IU, it is clear to me that something profound has happened. Voters have taken America to a new place, and none of us yet quite understand what this all means for our present and our future.

As a Christian pastor, who works very hard to keep any kind of political perspective out of the pulpit, writing this requires some degree of caution. However, it is wrong to let this moment in our history pass without some kind of comment.

I've noticed some things. I've noticed that a fair number of my Republican friends are very anxious about what an Obama presidency may mean for our country. They fear a sharp turn to the left. I tell them my sense is that the man is thoughtful, surrounds himself with strong people, and will do everything humanly possible not to put our nation "in the ditch."

I've noticed that even many John McCain fans sense a decency in Obama which they admire, and they see his candidacy as a good thing for our country. Even those who do not welcome an Obama presidency see his candidacy as a sign we are moving towards justice and equality racially. Many of us who lived through the civil right's struggles of the 1960's knew this day would come -but it has come with surprising quickness and even those "right of center" see it as a hopeful and good thing.

Something has shifted in the republic.

I wouldn't pretend to understand all the factors that led to Senator Obama's overwhelming victory. Certainly the economic meltdown and uncertainty meant that any Republican candidate was going to be swimming upstream. And, certainly, people are weary of a war on two fronts that has drained us of our treasure -in lives and dollars- while failing to defeat the Islamic extremists who attacked us on 9/11.

Do you know why I believe the American people have elected Barack Obama to the presidency? I believe it has to do with his repeated reminders that we are one people -despite the attempts of political experts to break us down into competing demographic groups. I believe his election has to do with his reminder that we are not a nation of blue states or red states but that we are the United States of America.

Our citizens have lived through nearly 25 years of the politics of division. People on the right were bitter and unrelenting in their attacks on the Clintons, and people on the far left have mocked and demeaned George W. Bush. Talk radio and tv has descended into shouting matches. Bill Maher is caustic, anti-faith, and hostile to middle America. Rush Limbaugh seems to have stopped thinking rationally and uses every broadcast as an opportunity to say one more outrageous, mean thing.

We're weary of it! We're tired of it!

So there is something in us that responded to the repeated statements of the tall, junior Senator from Illinois about being one people...about working together...about claiming one another. One political commentator says he watched Barack Obama speaking in inner-city Philadelphia to a rally made up mainly of lower income black families. The one comment that drew the largest roar of approval was Senator Obama's statement about being one people...working together...not being a collection of competing red states and blue states.

Paul, in Corinthians and Romans, reminds the early Christians that we are all a part of one body in Christ. There is this human temptation for the eyes to write off the feet as unimportant, or the brain to think the arms don't count. The early Christian missionary pastor reminded Jesus-followers that we are connected...we have been given one another as a gift from God. And, Paul says, each part is important. Especially the ones we think, at first glance, really don't matter.

"Can you feel your hands and toes?" Paul was asking. "Do you realize how connected you are to one another?"

Barack, although apparently a man of deep, personal Christian faith, didn't put it quite like this, but he was asking the same question: "Do you realize how connected you are to one another?"

Something has shifted. We are in a new place as a nation. It's a good time to pray...and prepare ourselves for the hard work ahead.

Play It Where It Lays.

Family and friends.

I've been thinking about family and friends.

Not sure why that is. Maybe it is being in one church for more than 12 years, and getting to know...really know...a whole group of folks. Seeing their strong places, seeing their scared places, seeing their bruised places, seeing their hopeful places, and seeing their stuck places. You know...
stuck. Like a child who keeps tripping over the same toy. Or the football player who can't seem to remember to go left on a particular pass play and always heads in the wrong direction. You get to see people's stuck places. The issue or fear or obsession that keeps tripping them up. And, of course, they have gotten to know me so well they see all my places. They know I am -on some days- all together and some days I am a total mess. You get to know one another pretty well after twelve years.

Perhaps I've been thinking about family and friends because my siblings are getting ready to do some heart work. We're spread out, the five of us, from northwest Chicago to suburban Washington D.C. So getting together will be tough, but we are getting ready to do some heart work... some counseling work. It's been over eight years since our Mom died, and her absence has changed the landscape of the universe for us. So we're going to talk with someone and try to figure out how to move into the future in a loving, connected, healthy way.

One of the wisest words of advice for human relationships I heard on the golf course: "Play it where it lies." There might be an easier shot if the ball were three or four feet to the right, you might shoot a lower score if you didn't have to navigate your way around that stubborn maple tree standing between you and the hole, but you play the ball where it lies.

When we're young many of us expend an extraordinary amount of energy looking for people who aren't stuck...bruised...fearful. There are days when we want to wash our hands of the collection of characters that make up our family.

Wisdom is, though, learning to love people where they are. "Play it where it lies." I think about the buddy who stopped by the house this week. We sat on the patio, watched the fall leaves come down and the river flow by, and talked. Some of our stuff we've been kicking around for the better part of a decade. And I love him. He blesses my life. When he walks into a room the world is a better place. But he and are a both flawed, unfinished creatures. We accept that about one another. That acceptance allows our friendship to flourish.

Simon Peter was an impulsive, talk-first-and-then-think sort of guy. Jesus loved him. Never gave up on him. Even took time to give his friend fishing advice in John 21. And Paul, in 2nd Corinthians, says if we are in Christ we are being made into a new creation.

I'm thankful for the moments when God provides healing to our broken hearts, and moves us beyond our stuck places. I do believe people can change and grow and heal. Mercy and grace are also very good things, and I'm thankful for the wisdom that tells us to love and value people where they are.

"Play it where it lies."