Hands on the Back of the Bike.

Do you remember when you learned to ride a bicycle? Do you remember how your Dad or a big brother or your Mom or your Grandpa ran along behind you, with their hand on the back of the seat...steadying you...pushing you along...until you got the rhythm of the pedals and mastered the art of balancing a two-wheeler?

I was thinking of that as I watched Sharon holding Olivia, our 8-month old granddaughter. The two are pretty close. Olivia is a dark-eyed little girl with a sweet, almost shy smile. Who just loves to be held as she falls asleep and then enjoys falling asleep on Grandma. (And Grandma enjoys napping with Olivia on her chest!)

It all got me to thinking about how one of the gifts we give one another is to help the next generation along. We bless them. We put our hand on the back of the seat, or square in the middle of their backs, as they get started in life. Or head into a major, new stage. We encourage them. Help get them started.

Olivia will probably never remember those afternoons when she was held, rocked to sleep, and then cradled as she napped through the afternoon. She'll not remember those words of affection and love whispered in her ears. The games of "How big is Olivia?" (the answer is "SO BIG!") or "Where is Olivia?" (as she pulls a small blanket up over her face and then drops it with a delighted look so she can see you again). None of it may rise to the surface of her conscious mind but it will all be there...helping her move forward...step into the rest of her life.

We help the next generation along.

We dance at the weddings of young people and surround them with our prayers and funny stories as they begin the mysterious journey we call marriage.

Friends gather for a baby shower when someone they know is embarking on the challenging adventure we call parenthood.

And when someone we care about is dying, their bodies wasting away as their souls get ready for God's new thing (thank you, Jesus!), we stop by and visit...tell stories...tell the person how we love them...promise we'll look them up in heaven...and then we go to the funeral. Make small talk. Listen to the words of scripture. Sing a hymn of faith. Offer hugs. Go over to the house and have cold cut sandwiches and dip into the potato salad. We hold the members of the family up with our love. A widow, for example, is surrounded by women who have gone through this loss. They tell her there will be life on the other side of the grief. They tell her they play cards every other Thursday night, and are in a Christian small group on the first Monday of every month, and sometimes like to go to Branson, Missouri or to the Stratford Shakespeare Festival.

All along the way, we bless one another. Encourage one another. So a new generation can step courageously into the middle of whatever is next.

The New Testament says we are surrounded by a cloud of witnesses. That is who we are to one another in this world. A cloud of witnesses, encouraging one another, blessing one another, so we can go on...live...step into the next big thing life has for us.

New Chapters.

I tend to see life, organizations, and relationships as books. With different chapters. The pages are always being turned. Things never stay the same.

As you might expect, I have a fair number of friends who are pastors. Being a pastor or priest or rabbi or imam is an interesting way to spend your life for God. You get a chance to shepherd souls, see God at work, and hang out with people who love you better than you deserve to be loved.

Then, of course, there are heartbreaking parts of it. When people get ugly in the church, it isn't a pretty picture. Bumping into meanness in a place where you expect to find grace is a shock.

Many pastors finally go on to do other things not because they have been exhausted by the big challenges of kingdom building (fighting for justice, making peace, teaching God's truth to a new generation, mission trips to tough places, watching people you love get knocked down by cancer, etc.), but because of the "paper cuts" we get along the way. The Easter Sunday someone growls at you because the altar flowers weren't properly centered. The Bible expert who keeps chipping at you because you don't preach in the style he enjoys best. The donor who demands her gift back because the leaders of the church didn't choose the carpet color she wanted. Little stuff. Worn down by little stuff, some pastors say, "That's it. I'm going to go sell insurance or teach or mow yards or drive a truck."

I've got some friends who have been run out of their churches by a small group of cranky Christians. My buddies were tempted to hang in there...try to work through things. But the cranky folks wouldn't let go of the fight. They didn't want things to get better...they wanted their preacher gone so they could get an improved model with higher horsepower and better mileage.

Jesus, in the 9th chapter of Luke, sends his disciples out to do God's work and he says, "When someone welcomes you, stay there. If someone shuts the door in your face, wants nothing to do with you or my Good News, then move on. Shake the dust from your feet."

It's a wonderful thing for Jesus to say. It gives us permission to move on when people insist on saying "no." I tell my friends, "Life is too short to stay where people don't want you. There is another place...go!" What a blessing to know that God loves us enough that the Lord doesn't want us to stay around and get beat up by cranky people! New chapters...

Recently a friend, who runs a small restaurant, told me she is giving up. The economic slowdown is taking her business down. It's not just that, though. She has found that the retail food business -like dairy farming or pastoring a small church- means you don't have much of a life away from your work. She's exhausted. My friend told me she is closing her business, and I told her what a great job she has done. How it has been a good place...a welcoming place. Folks in that neck of South Bend are going to miss it. "I hope you feel good about what you have done," I said. "You've blessed us all. Given us a place. And God has another chapter ahead for you..." She began to cry. I hugged her. New chapters...

My sisters and I have been talking in ways we haven't talked in years. Some of it is easy. Some of it is really hard. Between the words there is healing. Movement where some things have been frozen for a long time. There are moments when it is exhilirating. Fun. And there are moments in our changing relationships that are scary...exhausting. (Healing, by the way, isn't a painless phenomenon.) New chapters...

I know Ecclesiastes 1:09 tells us there is nothing new under the sun. Got it. Every generation likes to think they are breaking new ground, but the truth is the human condition is sort of what it has always been. Ecclesiastes says what it does, and yet Psalm 96:1 says to "sing to the Lord a new song" and Jeremiah 31:31 exclaims "I will make a new covenant with them." In Revelation 21:05, Christ declares, "Behold, I make all things new."

New chapters. Some chapters -that may feel like a curse, a blessing, or a mixture of the two- come to a close. There are tears. There is pain. There is healing. There is gladness. Then, God has something else for us...

We are always stepping into a new chapter with God. I like that.