Pre Christmas la dee dah
The Church year calls it Advent and it starts on Sunday. You might know it better as “all the stuff that happens before Christmas”& “the process of gift selection and wrapping.” The two might or might not have a lot to do with each other. We surely do live together, though.
The whole idea of Advent is how to look at the new creation God is bringing. The idea of gift selection and wrapping has to do with finding the right gifts for others in a way that celebrates the day after Thanksgiving madness at the malls, Black Monday, free shipping and in general, consumption. Many folks just love it.
Our choices this year (yes, we have choices!) have to do with our intentions and our budgets, and whether we discover any sense of holiness in their projection onto day to day living.
Where I live, many people put up exterior Christmas lights to commemorate their values. They are indicating they believe in Christmas. There are more Santa Clauses than Madonnas and child where I live, but still, these are lights to the world. This is the only time of year lights go up. For example, have you ever seen Easter lights on peoples’ lawns? I don’t recall seeing chasing lights on a cross at Easter. Nor have have I seen front lawns aflame at Pentecost! And certainly not for four weeks ahead of the big day. Fire crackers on the 4th of July is the only thing similar, and that event is over in an hour. (Ironic too, I think, that our national “light to the world” is a series of explosions!)
Advent, the church season prior to Christmas, calls upon followers of Christ to look forward to a renewed time, and we will know it’s a new time because everything will seem different—“lions will lie down with lambs” and “swords will be beaten into plowshares”
(read “personal and political enemies will get along”). You’ll note in the history of our planet, we’re without much documentation that this has occurred. We’re still looking forward to it’s culmination, though we did have the birth of a savior. That got things going.
Of course, there are people like my neighbor who don’t seem to be hopeful. He’s just getting through this time of life. I got this idea from a recent encounter.
I was struggling with a getting a few lights up in the shrubs outside my home. He pulled in his driveway from work and jumped out with the words, “I don’t do Christmas!” I responded, “Yeah, I haven’t seen you put up any indicators that you do.” “Well, my family gets together all year, especially in the summer, so I’m low key about now. The kids will get together at my “former’s” house, and then they’ll come over to my house (without his “former” I suppose) and we’ll do some gifts. That’s about it.”
I was amused and perplexed by this conversation. Here I was, putting up indicators of filled and unfulfilled hope, and there he was, thinking there’s nothing to this time of year, except “doing some gifts.” That dichotomy says it all, and it lifts up the pre-Christmas la dee day question:
What is hope or is there none? And if there is hope, where do we find it? How will we share it?
Personally, I’m looking forward to some pre-Christmas sharing with this neighbor. Maybe he’s really Santa, and I just missed it ‘cuz I was too busy putting up lights to notice. What do you think?
--f
Friday, November 30
Thursday, November 29
a meditation on atmosphere
Atmosphere is everything.
In my office, there are two well-dressed frogs sitting on a bookshelf. They are quite a pair, with gold and green shoes with red outfits and clever caps. They stare at me as I work. They keep me company.
To make room for more atmosphere and a pieta kind of print, I took down a photo of a college reunion from fifteen years ago. Several members of the a’capella singing group keep in touch via email and continue to tell and create stories. So I’m still surrounded by this intensity. One of the old time deans of the U died at age 95 this past week and some of the guys who had stories about the Dean told them. Here’s one, not atypical. I’ve edited it for clarity:
“The second semester of my Freshman year was pretty much of a confused blur, thanks to too much winter, too few girls (none actually), too much beer, pledging Phi Gamm, playing lacrosse, and primarily the mistaken notion that I could get by on the study skills picked up at high school without doing something productive, like (for example) reading assigned books. My GPA tumbled to 1.6, and I was clearly ready for some diversion when Spring finally showed up.
That diversion took the form of some really spectacular “riots” in the East-West Hall quad--huge bonfires stoked by Core 13 manuals and dorm advisor’s furniture, lots of beer (of course), persons to remain nameless bombing Freddy Vero and campus security from the roof of West Hall with out-of-date eggs and other rotten produce, and of course ringing the chapel bell. Can’t have a riot without “the wild alarum sounding from the tocsin's dreadful throat.”
So there I was, pulling away like crazy on the bell rope when I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Stop that right now!” said the voice behind me. “This is Dean Griffith.” “Right,” I replied. “And I’m Quasimodo.” Well, it was Dean Griffith. And like many others whose stories will appear here, I, too was “called on the carpet” to face my punishment. I expected to be expelled, especially because the bell-ringing and nightly disturbances didn’t stop for a few more days. (But that’s another story involving a fake bell rope hanging in the bell tower, the real bell rope running outside to the chapel roof, and a strategically placed lookout with a flashlight in Lawrence Hall.)
Instead of kicking me out, however, he sentenced me to teach Sunday School at the Baptist Church my entire sophomore year. And that’s what I did, with enthusiasm and commitment and no apparent damage to the souls of my young charges. I suspect Dean Griffith knew, or sensed, that I wanted more than anything to be a teacher, and a good teacher at that. He also helped land me my first teaching job after graduation. So my “punishment” was the challenge to acquire more responsibility by doing something I loved. That kind of creative, (unthinkable today) caring response to dealing with a young guy who needed, more than anything to just grow up, was what I recall in remembering Dean Griffith. He saw more in me than, at the time, I saw in myself.”
Matthew 15:10
Then he called the crowd to him and said to them, “Listen and understand: it is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a person, but it is what comes out of the mouth that defiles.”
When surrounded by stories like this, I’m reminded that it’s not our antics that are important (though it makes for good fireside chats), it’s about how we grew and the character of those who were mentors. That story about a familiar place is a great thing to have for atmosphere, even if I didn’t know the people involved. It also reminds that times have changed and we do background checks on all Sunday School teachers! So do not try to imitate the tales of yore!
In my office, there are two well-dressed frogs sitting on a bookshelf. They are quite a pair, with gold and green shoes with red outfits and clever caps. They stare at me as I work. They keep me company.
To make room for more atmosphere and a pieta kind of print, I took down a photo of a college reunion from fifteen years ago. Several members of the a’capella singing group keep in touch via email and continue to tell and create stories. So I’m still surrounded by this intensity. One of the old time deans of the U died at age 95 this past week and some of the guys who had stories about the Dean told them. Here’s one, not atypical. I’ve edited it for clarity:
“The second semester of my Freshman year was pretty much of a confused blur, thanks to too much winter, too few girls (none actually), too much beer, pledging Phi Gamm, playing lacrosse, and primarily the mistaken notion that I could get by on the study skills picked up at high school without doing something productive, like (for example) reading assigned books. My GPA tumbled to 1.6, and I was clearly ready for some diversion when Spring finally showed up.
That diversion took the form of some really spectacular “riots” in the East-West Hall quad--huge bonfires stoked by Core 13 manuals and dorm advisor’s furniture, lots of beer (of course), persons to remain nameless bombing Freddy Vero and campus security from the roof of West Hall with out-of-date eggs and other rotten produce, and of course ringing the chapel bell. Can’t have a riot without “the wild alarum sounding from the tocsin's dreadful throat.”
So there I was, pulling away like crazy on the bell rope when I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Stop that right now!” said the voice behind me. “This is Dean Griffith.” “Right,” I replied. “And I’m Quasimodo.” Well, it was Dean Griffith. And like many others whose stories will appear here, I, too was “called on the carpet” to face my punishment. I expected to be expelled, especially because the bell-ringing and nightly disturbances didn’t stop for a few more days. (But that’s another story involving a fake bell rope hanging in the bell tower, the real bell rope running outside to the chapel roof, and a strategically placed lookout with a flashlight in Lawrence Hall.)
Instead of kicking me out, however, he sentenced me to teach Sunday School at the Baptist Church my entire sophomore year. And that’s what I did, with enthusiasm and commitment and no apparent damage to the souls of my young charges. I suspect Dean Griffith knew, or sensed, that I wanted more than anything to be a teacher, and a good teacher at that. He also helped land me my first teaching job after graduation. So my “punishment” was the challenge to acquire more responsibility by doing something I loved. That kind of creative, (unthinkable today) caring response to dealing with a young guy who needed, more than anything to just grow up, was what I recall in remembering Dean Griffith. He saw more in me than, at the time, I saw in myself.”
Matthew 15:10
Then he called the crowd to him and said to them, “Listen and understand: it is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a person, but it is what comes out of the mouth that defiles.”
When surrounded by stories like this, I’m reminded that it’s not our antics that are important (though it makes for good fireside chats), it’s about how we grew and the character of those who were mentors. That story about a familiar place is a great thing to have for atmosphere, even if I didn’t know the people involved. It also reminds that times have changed and we do background checks on all Sunday School teachers! So do not try to imitate the tales of yore!
Wednesday, November 28
meditation on "A Time for Burning"
“Gort: Klatu, Varada, Nikto.”
These are famous words from the movie, “The Day the Earth Stood Still.” That movie title was the theme of last night’s gathering at Filmstreams’ showing of another movie that could have had that for a title. Instead, it was called, “A Time for Burning.”
1965 was a racially divided and charged time, and Rev. Bill Youngdahl, youngish, upwardly mobile superstar of Omaha’s all white Augustana Lutheran Church had a simple plan that became a flashpoint for the congregation and the Omaha community. The plan? Invite ten couples from one church to meet with ten African American couples from a racially mixed Lutheran church. Simple, direct, and as he said, “the smallest step I can think of .” The result: in two weeks time, the congregation was split and the pastor forced to resign. It was “too much, too soon,”
In the discussion at Filmstreams following, members of the packed house remarked:
From a young teen: “Fear is what’s happening. The people in the movie are comfortable where they are. They’re scared of change becoming different. They’re scared to cgo beyond the wall.”
From a mature African American: “there can be no reconciliation between races.
What we saw then is what we see today.”
From others:
“If we don’t understand each other, how can we change the system?”
“Like Youngdahl, ‘Sometimes it’s not about what I want to do or have happen—we have to listen and take it.’”
“The extremist wasn’t Ernie Chambers, the extremists were the elder statesmen of the church. Ernie simply held up a mirror we the people saw themselves. I see myself.”
“If this racism is going to change, we must have internal changes first.”
“We need to be expressive, passionate and make our voices heard.”
We need a spirit of reconciliation and vulnerability, and not to let those who are not reconciliation minded hold sway.?
“Why should I continue dialogue when nothing has changed in 40 years (not to mention the 350 years before that.)
the facts of Omaha (from Ben Gray of KETV7, photojournalist/producer):
One thing was noticeable: In the documentary, teenagers got the racism thing and wanted to meet together. Old white people with power thought it was all too soon and coming too fast. The tensions between races seem to have continued, if not expanded to include Latinos, immigrants of any kind and more. We have segregated ourselves. The result is tensions and gun battles on the streets.
Can we take action? Yes
Will we?
Well, WWJD? WWYouD?
John 4 7
A Samaritan woman came to draw water, and Jesus said to her, “Give me a drink.” (His disciples had gone to the city to buy food.” The Samaritan woman said to him, “How is that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?” (Jews do not share things in common with Samaritans) Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.”
These are famous words from the movie, “The Day the Earth Stood Still.” That movie title was the theme of last night’s gathering at Filmstreams’ showing of another movie that could have had that for a title. Instead, it was called, “A Time for Burning.”
1965 was a racially divided and charged time, and Rev. Bill Youngdahl, youngish, upwardly mobile superstar of Omaha’s all white Augustana Lutheran Church had a simple plan that became a flashpoint for the congregation and the Omaha community. The plan? Invite ten couples from one church to meet with ten African American couples from a racially mixed Lutheran church. Simple, direct, and as he said, “the smallest step I can think of .” The result: in two weeks time, the congregation was split and the pastor forced to resign. It was “too much, too soon,”
In the discussion at Filmstreams following, members of the packed house remarked:
From a young teen: “Fear is what’s happening. The people in the movie are comfortable where they are. They’re scared of change becoming different. They’re scared to cgo beyond the wall.”
From a mature African American: “there can be no reconciliation between races.
What we saw then is what we see today.”
From others:
“If we don’t understand each other, how can we change the system?”
“Like Youngdahl, ‘Sometimes it’s not about what I want to do or have happen—we have to listen and take it.’”
“The extremist wasn’t Ernie Chambers, the extremists were the elder statesmen of the church. Ernie simply held up a mirror we the people saw themselves. I see myself.”
“If this racism is going to change, we must have internal changes first.”
“We need to be expressive, passionate and make our voices heard.”
We need a spirit of reconciliation and vulnerability, and not to let those who are not reconciliation minded hold sway.?
“Why should I continue dialogue when nothing has changed in 40 years (not to mention the 350 years before that.)
the facts of Omaha (from Ben Gray of KETV7, photojournalist/producer):
- one forth to one third of black males will end up in jail before they are twenty one.
- Blacks in Omaha are the third poorest in the country.
- Children in Omaha are the poorest children in the country.
- Many believe: “The race war is coming. And white militants are training for it around Omaha.”
One thing was noticeable: In the documentary, teenagers got the racism thing and wanted to meet together. Old white people with power thought it was all too soon and coming too fast. The tensions between races seem to have continued, if not expanded to include Latinos, immigrants of any kind and more. We have segregated ourselves. The result is tensions and gun battles on the streets.
Can we take action? Yes
Will we?
Well, WWJD? WWYouD?
John 4 7
A Samaritan woman came to draw water, and Jesus said to her, “Give me a drink.” (His disciples had gone to the city to buy food.” The Samaritan woman said to him, “How is that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?” (Jews do not share things in common with Samaritans) Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.”
Tuesday, November 27
meditation on hurtling to the finish and today's schedule
Today’s schedule;
Today the labyrinth will be in the fireplace lounge at MBSC, from 10 am to 4PM. Come for a walk of refreshment, Learning to take time for tactile meditation is a life skill.
Tonight, we’re viewing “A Time for Burning” 7:15 PM at Filmstreams, 13th & Webster (Nodo) tickets are $6 and Ben Gray of UNO will lead the discussion following. Don’t forget supper at Panera’s tonight will be early tonight: 6PM. Learning to reflect on racial tensions is a must.
Meditation on hurtling to the big finish
The excitement is building for the big finish of the semester. Professors are beginning the last of the follow-ups with students, making sure everyone is clear about the expectations of their courses. Students are waking up and realizing there is one more paper and one more group exercise and one more major lab and one more test. It feels like a hurtling rock toward the sun, increasing in speed as the rock gets closer to the center of gravity.
Isn’t this fun? You bet! It comes with passion for the work and passion for the work is infectious. When we’re with people who are rockets of energy around a project, we enjoy being part of it. When someone has drive, initiative and purpose, we respond. This is the time of the semester when we want to kick our lives into overdrive and fly for the finish.
Of course, there are a few derailments here and there. For example, on Saturday, while hosting relatives and friends for a time of Thanksgiving, we engaged in a three part “Great Race” event. First was golf (hitting closest to the turkey), and potato digging (finding the largest). The third event was canoeing across a pond to an island where a ceramic pumpkin awaited to be transported to a finish line. Three canoes took off. Three quarter of the way to the island, one canoe capsized. On the way from the island, another tipped over. That left only one of three canoes making it all the way. The water was really cold, and so the adventurers were surprised and wet, too. They were ushered to safety and warmth. After showers were had and warm clothes put on, we laughed and told stories of the debacle, while the clothes dryer worked overtime. Hot food tasted especially good.
We all learned: the overpowering desire to win can cause a wreck; that teamwork takes many forms; that water is cold this time of year and woolens are not great swim gear; and the main thing--that friends, family and warmth are worthy of celebration and gratefulness.
When you approach your “end of semester big finish” with initiative and purpose, people will marvel and you will do well. We all love those who keep the main thing the main thing and do not waver too much from that.
Jesus set his face to Jerusalem (Luke 9:51) and that decision determined everything he said and did. That was his big picture. We all need a big picture that’s worth it—for the end of the semester and even beyond (btw, have you thought of joining us in New Orleans during spring break?) What’s your big picture? Is what you’re doing in line with it? Who’s going with you?
Today the labyrinth will be in the fireplace lounge at MBSC, from 10 am to 4PM. Come for a walk of refreshment, Learning to take time for tactile meditation is a life skill.
Tonight, we’re viewing “A Time for Burning” 7:15 PM at Filmstreams, 13th & Webster (Nodo) tickets are $6 and Ben Gray of UNO will lead the discussion following. Don’t forget supper at Panera’s tonight will be early tonight: 6PM. Learning to reflect on racial tensions is a must.
Meditation on hurtling to the big finish
The excitement is building for the big finish of the semester. Professors are beginning the last of the follow-ups with students, making sure everyone is clear about the expectations of their courses. Students are waking up and realizing there is one more paper and one more group exercise and one more major lab and one more test. It feels like a hurtling rock toward the sun, increasing in speed as the rock gets closer to the center of gravity.
Isn’t this fun? You bet! It comes with passion for the work and passion for the work is infectious. When we’re with people who are rockets of energy around a project, we enjoy being part of it. When someone has drive, initiative and purpose, we respond. This is the time of the semester when we want to kick our lives into overdrive and fly for the finish.
Of course, there are a few derailments here and there. For example, on Saturday, while hosting relatives and friends for a time of Thanksgiving, we engaged in a three part “Great Race” event. First was golf (hitting closest to the turkey), and potato digging (finding the largest). The third event was canoeing across a pond to an island where a ceramic pumpkin awaited to be transported to a finish line. Three canoes took off. Three quarter of the way to the island, one canoe capsized. On the way from the island, another tipped over. That left only one of three canoes making it all the way. The water was really cold, and so the adventurers were surprised and wet, too. They were ushered to safety and warmth. After showers were had and warm clothes put on, we laughed and told stories of the debacle, while the clothes dryer worked overtime. Hot food tasted especially good.
We all learned: the overpowering desire to win can cause a wreck; that teamwork takes many forms; that water is cold this time of year and woolens are not great swim gear; and the main thing--that friends, family and warmth are worthy of celebration and gratefulness.
When you approach your “end of semester big finish” with initiative and purpose, people will marvel and you will do well. We all love those who keep the main thing the main thing and do not waver too much from that.
Jesus set his face to Jerusalem (Luke 9:51) and that decision determined everything he said and did. That was his big picture. We all need a big picture that’s worth it—for the end of the semester and even beyond (btw, have you thought of joining us in New Orleans during spring break?) What’s your big picture? Is what you’re doing in line with it? Who’s going with you?
Monday, November 26
meditation on exposure to compassion
“Exposure to compassion changes you from the inside out.”
On Thanksgiving Day, Carol and I, and two friends loaded ourselves into a van and drove to St. Margaret Mary’s Church and picked up a Thanksgiving meal for one. We also received a flower and a bag of candy. Our task was simple: deliver the meal, the flower and the candy to (let’s call her) E.
The group that headed up this event is the “Little Brothers—Friends of the Elderly.” They want every delivery person to deliver the goods for thanksgiving, but more importantly, to spend an hour in conversation with this person. We did. And that was the best part.
E is elderly and can’t make it on her own. She has no relatives or friends to speak of. She’s really alone. We talked about our families and asked about hers. Sometimes she shared, sometimes not. We tried a little Scrabble. That lasted about 2 minutes, even with teams. We identified our favorite candies. Mine is toffee. She said, “My middle name is candy!” We talked about places we’ve lived and roles we played. E agreed it was unfair for girls to do all the housework while the “men just sit there, waiting to be fed.” E gave us some stories to listen to! Even though we didn’t know her, she volunteered to be our friend for an hour.
We’re not sure she’ll remember we were there. That didn’t matter to us. What mattered was being with her for an hour. We left thinking Thanksgiving was a good thing after all. And that made our dinner later that afternoon all the more tasty.
A friend of mine put this in a sermon and then he sent it to me:
“I believe that serving another person – expecting nothing in return – changes you and changes them. I believe that you have to have experienced compassion and forgiveness and generosity in order to do them yourself. I believe that even the slightest exposure to compassion, forgiveness and generosity changes you from the inside out and you have to pass it on.”
Part of who we are as Christians is to serve and hope that model is seen and experienced by others. And part of who we are is experiencing the change “from the inside out.” That’s what E did for us, and for that we are thankful.
Matthew 5:14
“You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.”
On Thanksgiving Day, Carol and I, and two friends loaded ourselves into a van and drove to St. Margaret Mary’s Church and picked up a Thanksgiving meal for one. We also received a flower and a bag of candy. Our task was simple: deliver the meal, the flower and the candy to (let’s call her) E.
The group that headed up this event is the “Little Brothers—Friends of the Elderly.” They want every delivery person to deliver the goods for thanksgiving, but more importantly, to spend an hour in conversation with this person. We did. And that was the best part.
E is elderly and can’t make it on her own. She has no relatives or friends to speak of. She’s really alone. We talked about our families and asked about hers. Sometimes she shared, sometimes not. We tried a little Scrabble. That lasted about 2 minutes, even with teams. We identified our favorite candies. Mine is toffee. She said, “My middle name is candy!” We talked about places we’ve lived and roles we played. E agreed it was unfair for girls to do all the housework while the “men just sit there, waiting to be fed.” E gave us some stories to listen to! Even though we didn’t know her, she volunteered to be our friend for an hour.
We’re not sure she’ll remember we were there. That didn’t matter to us. What mattered was being with her for an hour. We left thinking Thanksgiving was a good thing after all. And that made our dinner later that afternoon all the more tasty.
A friend of mine put this in a sermon and then he sent it to me:
“I believe that serving another person – expecting nothing in return – changes you and changes them. I believe that you have to have experienced compassion and forgiveness and generosity in order to do them yourself. I believe that even the slightest exposure to compassion, forgiveness and generosity changes you from the inside out and you have to pass it on.”
Part of who we are as Christians is to serve and hope that model is seen and experienced by others. And part of who we are is experiencing the change “from the inside out.” That’s what E did for us, and for that we are thankful.
Matthew 5:14
“You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.”
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