Today, we grieve.

Let tomorrow come. And then the next day. Today, we grieve.

Most of us know grief. Some, all too well. Our minds wrestle. They fight it. They can’t compute the ‘why.’

Our hearts don’t wrestle, though. They just break. The ache is painful. At times, agonizingly so, especially for those whose love for the one lost knows no boundaries.

I reflected earlier this morning that grief is love’s companion. An unwelcome companion, assuredly, but its companion nonetheless. We cannot grieve for something lost that we did not love.

God loves. God grieves. Why? How does that work? Perhaps another time.

We cannot grieve for Shannon, of course. Could she communicate directly with us, she would certainly say, “Do not grieve, dear brothers and sisters! If you could only see me now. Then you would understand.” She would say, “I knew it would be really good. But, in my wildest imagination, I couldn’t conceive of this. Now, I truly understand.” She would say, “I loved you all so much. And, now, I am breathing love.” And, she would speak to us all, “He is real. Please answer the call. Listen. What is being offered is priceless beyond compare.”

No, we grieve for one another. For ourselves. A piece of us torn away and we know there’s no replacement. We reach out to others dear to us. Our tears flow. Some of us sob. Some stare silently. Most of us just want to be in the presence of others who understand what is happening. We take small steps through the day. Each one painful.

I wrote (was it a day or two ago?) that God shows up in dark places. He does. Even when we shout at him that it’s not fair. It’s not right. She was too young. How could this happen? He shows up. Perhaps right now, his beacon may seem distant and vague. This particular beacon is named Hope.

Thank you to everyone who has been praying for Shannon. Some of you reading these posts have never met her, yet you have joined in her life these past several weeks. You have joined with Diane and me in our life with Shannon and the others who love her. We are grateful. This is how life is meant to be lived.

We love. We hope. We serve. We care. We worship.

Today, we grieve.

Dear Lord, hear the cry of our hearts. Take this grief as only you know how. Thank you for Shannon. We really mean that. Thank you for Shannon. She showed us your face. We hurt so much because our time with her was too short. We hurt so much because she made us better and now we wonder what will happen to fill that hole. Then, we remember that it’s you. All along, it’s you. She is your daughter and we thank you for where she is right now. Please, please, surround her dear family and loving friends with the knowledge that they are loved and can be comforted. We lift all of this up to you. Amen.

Our dear Shannon has gone to be with our Lord. A light has gone out in our world. We reach into the knowledge that she is alive and radiant but our grief is so strong right now. She leaves behind a loving husband and four daughters, all believers. Hearts breaking. Words don’t work.

I woke up this morning thinking about thin spaces. Maybe some of you are familiar with the term, maybe not. As I understand it, it’s used to describe a place where the fabric between this natural world we live in and the supernatural reality that surrounds us becomes more transparent. I’m going to run the risk of ruffling some feathers here, I’m afraid. Something I’ve tried to avoid in these reflections. If possible, though, however we may disagree about this or that, my hope is that we alight on the deepest of truths.

At a point in the early Hebrew monotheistic world, God was so holy and untouchable that he could only be experienced directly once a year by the purest of priests, and then only after he passed through the thickest of curtains. And, then in the Christian experience, that holiest of Gods became flesh and blood and completely touchable. Talk about a thin space.

In the pantheistic world, meaning God is in and around everything, God is a kind of force that permeates all substance, animate, inanimate. The thin spaces, then, become the places (often in nature) where we feel or experience that force more powerfully.

There are many faith practices that seek to mix and match both who and what God is and where he (in whatever form) is most present.

Of course, the thinnest of spaces is at the point where this life ceases to exist and we discover that either this whole spirituality thing is just a big old fantasy and part of evolutionary biology as some popular atheists proclaim, or that there really is an Other. At that point, if the latter is true, we will also know about thin spaces in this life.

I was thinking about thin spaces because I woke up early this morning (I made it till 3:30!!) as I do every morning now, thinking about my dear friend Shannon lying there in that hospital, hooked up to so many tubes, doctors courageously trying to keep her body alive so they can put in the toxins to beat down the cancer. Our desperate plea is that she gets stabilized as the doctors begin treatment. For the sake of her family, if nothing else, who so completely love her and wish to spend many, many more years as the girls marry, have children and share love.

I thought of Shannon in a thin space.

Then I thought of my aged and reclusive uncle who has chosen a life that shuns deep relationships, he who prides himself on a kind of spirituality but has little left to show for it because he has perhaps only loved a few, while distancing so many others who have tried to care.

Both of these things are happening right now and I’m spending a good part of my awake time either aware or actively engaged in some form with these two people.

This may seem like wandering for a bit but I hope these thoughts come together in the end.

And, here’s where the ruffling of feathers comes in. Deep breath. I recently heard thin spaces used to describe a particular location on earth. As, we’re going there, because it’s a thin space. It’s a spiritual place. I won’t mention locations but I can certainly tick off a few.

I’m not sure why this concept has developed. Perhaps it may because ancient people (Native Americans, indigenous peoples on other continents) practiced their particular brand of religion in that general or specific location. Or, similarly, it might be a beautiful church where tens of thousands have worshipped through the centuries. People make pilgrimages to these places, seeking to touch the Other, whatever or whomever they believe that to be.

Before I’m misunderstood, I’m all for pilgrimages of a sort. Diane and I hope to walk in the footsteps of the Apostle Paul when we visit Ephesus,Turkey this summer. Someday, God willing, we can stand on the shores of Galilee. I have sat in some really fine churches and have been awed.

But, by definition, a thin space is where God is so present, it’s nearly overpowering, all consuming. It’s here the pantheist and the monotheist should agree. Thin spaces can happen anywhere.

And, here it’s where it could get very interesting.

Naturally, we gravitate to beauty as the metric by which we judge how thin the space is. That grand and breathtaking vista from atop the mountain! That magnificent cathedral. The simple beauty of a people who have held on to their beliefs for hundreds or thousands of years.  And, all of this is good. Beauty IS a metric by which we understand our connection to God.

But, if that’s the only thing, we’re really missing the point.

I’ve seen heaven. I really have. It’s not the heaven described in books and movies but it’s heaven all right. One time, the space was so thin I didn’t think I could breathe. My heart hurt so much from the joy that I honestly thought it would burst out of my chest. It really was terribly painful but I also hoped the pain would never cease. Later, I heard that kind of experience described as “deep calling out to deep.” In my faith, that’s the Holy Spirit part of our triune God that is in me, reaching out in eternal love to the Father and Jesus. The eternal love of God is probably a pretty powerful force. No wonder I hurt!

But, I’ve also experienced thin spaces in squalor. In the most “unspiritual” of places. The Devil’s playground, as it’s described. No one makes a pilgrimage to prison in order to get in touch with a cosmic force or a spiritual experience.

Or, perhaps they do. The first time I went deep into the bowels of R.J. Donovan State Prison to worship and interact with inmates … murderers, gang bangers, burglars, drug dealers, etc…, I was actually overwhelmed with the love of God. The presence of the Holy Spirit was so powerful it, too, took my breath away. Why do those who minister to the ultimate outcasts keep going back? Because they experience God in ways that are nearly impossible to understand unless we step out in faith. Because they participate in bringing heaven into the deepest of pits.

Just as Jesus walked into the leper pits, his followers of so many stripes, ethnicities, and nations of origin choose to help redeem dark places a make them light, thin and sweet.

My God is not limited by space and time. He does not choose to be present in one location rather than another. My God happens to be all loving. Yes, it’s very hard to see him in the midst of squalor and desolation. But, just because it’s hard doesn’t mean he’s not there and can’t be found in the biggest way.

You see, God resides in the human heart. A heart that jumps ahead of the mind. A heart that beats with love. That love creates eyes to see and ears to hear. That love creates arms to embrace and it creates tears that flow in joy and sorrow.

Hugging someone who is clinging on out of desperation, weakened by grief or fear, is a thin space.

Jesus ate with sinners. Walked among outcasts. He brought rich and poor together and he said this is the Kingdom of Heaven. It is available right now. The thin space has arrived. All you have to do is believe.

I had a sense of what I’ve been saying for a very long time but I didn’t surrender to it. Then I did. I know not everyone will or is so called. But, I know I no longer have to go looking for thin spaces. I see them all of the time. Doesn’t make it easy. This is not about a constant state of ecstasy which is something I don’t seek. No, it’s not easy but it’s good. Very good. Life giving. It is the air I breathe. The air of the thin space that surrounds us all of the time and is manifest in how we worship, share life together, become engaged in this troubled world and actually partner with God to bless the lives of so many others.

In these things, God is present. He is just as vividly present in Donovan Prison or the Tijuana dump where hundreds live in squalor. He is present in the people that choose to connect with those who live there. The broken and downcast. But, it’s not just those extremes!

He is present when we smile and engage a harried employee, encouraging them and complimenting them. And we receive a smile in return. He is present when we choose to just listen and absorb someone else’s pain or struggle … forgetting our own agenda. He is present when we lift up our own failures, sins, and fears and plea for hope and forgiveness.

He is present in Shannon’s hospital room and she knows it.

He is present wherever we love, truly love. The kind of love Jesus displayed and taught us. Teaches us.

When I saw heaven that time it was because I experienced a love that transcended all understanding. In the years that followed, I’ve certainly done a very poor job of loving by that standard! But, I know that thin space was not just a mountaintop experience … and my job is not to just go find the next one. That’s not how it works. My job is to remember and to learn. Baby steps. Hopefully more forward than backwards.

I ask forgiveness from those who I’ve hurt and from those to whom I’ve not shown the love I feel. I ask for patience as I seek to grow in love.

The River is a great place to be. What a journey this all is!

Lord, help us to see you. Help us to see you in unexpected places. Teach us where to look for you. How to look for you. Help us to make that veil much more thin so that we may experience you more deeply. We thank you for the gifts of love and grace. Help our hearts to soften so we love more than judge. That we extend grace rather than express resentment. Help us to spend more time thinking of others than of ourselves and what we want. We know that with this help, thin spaces show up and life blooms radiantly, no matter the surroundings. Thank you. Amen

Our dear Shannon is very sick. This vicious blood cancer came out of nowhere and has gripped her sweet body. She is battling for her life. A month ago, she was the picture of robust health. Full of laughter and wit. Worried about my health, yes, but professing no doubt about my eventual healing. Serving Susan and so many others. Now hospitalized in intensive care, surrounded by her loving husband, four daughters and other close family, Shannon knows how deeply she is loved.

We wept a lot this morning. Our Little Band of Believers wept and held one another. We also laughed and experienced joy. Told some funny Shannon stories. Knew she would want it this way. We sang. We sang words from deep within our hearts and souls. None of this was contrived or formulaic. People can criticize our faith but they would just not recognize the eternal truths expressed today in the Millsom living room. What a shame.

If there was ego or pretense in that space … well, let’s just say there wasn’t any.

Kiki led this morning. What a beautiful woman Kiki is! Her heart bursting, she knit together a space for us to live out our yearnings. She helped all of us focus on what is truly important. Love. Surrender. Trust. Hope.

Kiki is a teacher and, laughingly, presented us with a visual. I’m big on visuals, too. A painting of Jesus walking on water.

People are welcome to believe what they will. But our God walked on water. People scoff at miracles. Our God is a God of miracles. I have seen them and experienced them and I know the difference between a phenomenon and a miracle. As clearly as I know the difference between night and day.

We do not know what is going to happen with Shannon in the next couple of days. We know what we hope for. Pray for expectantly. As our angel, Connie (confined to her wheelchair by disease … and having suffered the worst of tragedies), spoke boldly and with radiance: “I fully expect healing until I hear otherwise.”

But, Jesus invites us out of the safety of our boat … to do the impossible … walk expectantly towards him. Towards his outstretched loving arms.

I have to say that the boat is a relative place. This Little Band of Believers has stepped out of the boat before … and has been living in that place where security’s anchor has lost its hold. Instead, the invitation and the Security that transcends all understanding is the path across the water. Now, although we’ve stepped out before, we step out again. Stepping out is a daily practice, just as flawed Peter did and found himself sinking.

Please continue praying for Shannon and her family. I won’t tell you what to pray for. I think you’ll know if you sit quietly for a few moments and listen for the words.

 
On a less urgent note, please continue to pray for Diane and me. I’m Ok but am swamped. Emmaus and church and family issues (not immediate family) and some other things requiring my attention are threatening to overwhelm. Not sleeping much. I wish I could say that I have the tools to adjust the RPMs easily … I’m much better at that than many years ago. It’s still a weakness, though. Enough said.

Lord, thank you for showing us who you are and what we can be with you at the center. Thank you for Shannon, a beacon of light who has touched so many lives. Who has given selflessly and lovingly. Who has spread joy and comfort to the many. Please hold her closely. Hold her family closely. You are the God of miracles and we plea for one now. But, most importantly, we turn all of our lives over to you with the knowledge that your embrace is eternal. Amen.

I know that some of you reading these words faithfully are not Christian. Bless your hearts for following and letting me know once in awhile that you can connect on different levels. That touches me deeply. I have referred to this song before but have not included the lyrics. It is performed by Hillsong United and is entitled “Oceans (Where Feet May Fail)” I listened to it after returning home from our group. It perfectly captures this theme and depicts the place Diane and I live our lives, especially when facing tough challenges. Our Little Band is there, too. This is probably not for everyone, which is fine. I found a link to this live version, which I’d never seen, although this is the version we know. I play it in the car and at other times. Loud? Yes, at times. But, if you stick with the whole piece, there are times of near silence. Too much visual? Close your eyes and just meditate on the words. 🙂  For me, there are many times when I sit in silence or have some quiet contemplative music playing. But, faith can also be bold and full of life and it’s my feeling we can express it in such a way as this. You may know Diane and me in a certain way. But one way is the knowledge that we would be completely at home at this concert.

Brad

 

 

In church circles, Acts of Service gets a lot of play. But, that’s hardly unique to the world of faith. What does it mean to help? What does it mean to serve? Why do we do it?

We have the pat answers, of course. Golden Rule. It’s better to give then receive. I’m called to it, etc… I’ve found in my life, however, that there are all sorts of things going on here and many attitudes about who and how to serve, how much to serve, and why even serve in the first place?

As most of you know by now, I grew up in a household that really had no real attachment to a faith tradition other than the most loose connection to my father’s childhood Judaism and my mother’s vague secularized Christianity. In other words, nada. There was, interestingly enough, a sense that we were supposed to make a difference. We were supposed to do something with our lives and not just for ourselves. From my father’s side it was his WW II Marine Corps heritage. Child of the depression, member of the Greatest Generation. Also, I never felt far removed, as a young student of history, from the Holocaust and the question of why no one did anything! I actually felt that painfully and it’s never left.  From my mother’s side, it was that patrician Noblesse Oblige (sorry, look it up!) and a legacy of extremely high powered family members/public servants on the progressive side of the spectrum, dating back well into the 19th century. I’ll save you the ticker tape of accomplishments that were drummed into us with the spoken or unspoken message that we are called to serve. All very secular and all very good. Well, maybe. Try living up to that and you’ll have a shot at why I spent a number of years in therapy.

I entered college knowing I would have a life built around service. I entered law school with the same call.  While I left college and law school somewhat jaded, I didn’t have to go far to fall into teaching and later a profession built around service. In fact, I hardly knew anything else. I counted myself very fortunate that I got to spend my days in that kind of a place.

So, what’s the catch? There is a catch of course. One can say if I was a pendulum, I would have been pretty far to the upswing on one side. Not being saintly like a Mother Theresa or others with such special gifts, gravity took over.

Do you know anyone … teachers, missionaries, ministers and priests, police, fire fighters, others who enter with noble expectations but who burn out or worse? Of course. We all do or are aware that this is very common.

Why do we serve?

Jesus says we will be known by our love. Of course, he says we should serve. In fact, that happens to be in his top five reasons for breaking through one overarching reality and alighting in this troubled one. And, yes, this is a commandment … pretty clear about that. But, after that, it gets a bit dicey.

One of the great fallacies of the Christian religion is that people think they actually can earn God’s love. That God keeps score and holds back his love accordingly. Now, setting aside any other aspect of God’s score keeping (there happens to be real things called Justice and Evil but that’s a topic for another day), we can’t earn God’s love by working or serving. That’s just plain impossible. A corollary of that is that God keeps a report card going. Well, let’s see: Here, Brad gave $1000 to that charity that does really good stuff. Or, Brad went to prison today or agreed to lead Emmaus or help out at church this year, all of which are really good things that help others. Therefore, chalk up some points on the Brad ledger … he’s earning his way in there. Good thing Brad knows that that’s what’s happening here.

Or not.

We shall by known by how we love one another.

I think about that. Love and duty are two separate things. Doing something because we feel we have to is not the same as acting out of love. I’ve heard many times that the reason soldiers risk their lives is not for their country (which some of them love in an abstract way) but because they love the guy next to them. That they would do anything for that guy. Which is kind of the definition of love, I think.

Jesus washed the feet of his disciples which is not something your basic Rabbi or Lord normally did. In fact, it threw those disciples into something of a tizzy. Looking back it and, should we believe Jesus is who he says he is? That’s no small deal. God washed my feet. Because, of course, I’m one of those guys as all of us are. God washed my feet. So, if God washed my feet, what does that mean?

Well, presumably it means at least a couple of things. For starters, I guess I’m a pretty big deal. As in pretty important to God because servants wash the feet of the master. But, that’s only a bit of the story. Of course, he was modeling for us as well as telling us something. After all, he came to show us what the Kingdom is really like, and it’s like turning this world upside down. God came to serve man, even the most lowly among us … in fact precisely the most lowly among us … because they are valued as if they were the most mighty! We are all lords in God’s eyes, inheritors of the Kingdom. Lepers. Addicts. Misfits. In our brokenness, we achieve lordship.

But, then there’s the other thing. I’m also to be on my knees to serve. And, Jesus did not do this because he was ordered to or because he read it in a book or his church or community said get on your knees to wash the feet of misfits. He did it because his heart was soft and he loved them and it was the most natural thing in the world. The same as breathing. Let’s wrap our heads around that.

He actually just flat out loved them and his heart was so soft and tender towards them he couldn’t help it.

He couldn’t help it. It was his nature. It is the very essence of God and the central building block of all of reality.

I wish I could treasure other people the way Jesus did. I especially mean strangers or people on the periphery, not my dear family and close friends. I get that better.

I don’t think service is anything noble or particularly noteworthy. I’m sorry for people who think far more of themselves than how they can help the person next to them flourish.

Which brings up a kind a sore spot. I apologize but I don’t have patience for grand political gestures about restructuring our political or economic system to better help those who are needy, by those who have hard hearts and don’t take the time to actually connect with that needy person. I used to work very hard in that environment and saw way too much posturing for notoriety or political gain and all of that grandstanding about changing society by people who were just not nice people. Who were uncomfortable with simple acts of loving service. I’m not making a political statement here but an observation about the importance of personally submitting in love to bless the lives of another, real, live human being … not a cause. I ran out of energy for grand causes awhile ago. OK, forgive me, I’m on my high horse. I was a cause guy and there were many grand causes. But, I’ve learned that we easily miss the point. The needy person is right in front of our face and he or she is not a statistic or part of a group I should just write a check to. He or she is down and troubled and wants a hand and if I’m not looking for him or her, I will miss the opportunity to touch God.

Lord knows, I miss enough opportunities to touch God but I’d like to catch a few.

I readily concede that there are many people who commit their lives to service who do not believe in a God or follow Jesus. But, I do believe that he helps us frame the whole thing in a way that represents what is most important about our lives. I can only testify to what I’ve experienced and determined from a life of observing a great deal. We should all seek a heart that cannot help but to serve.

I’m really tired at the end of a long day. I’m going to post this anyway but may edit it tomorrow if i wake up and find it’s gibberish..

 
Lord, with that in mind, we need Your help. Our hearts are fickle things. Sometimes, we think we’d better get off our rears and give to others because, well, it’s apparently the right thing to do and we haven’t been very attentive to that. And then we look around and don’t even know where to begin. For goodness sake, there’s so much need and I don’t even know where to begin to be honest. And, I’m afraid, once I dive in, there’s no coming out. I’ll have no time to just enjoy the bounty you’ve provided for me. I guess it makes sense that service is not a duty but a calling and it’s a calling from the heart and that that heart is connected to your heart. Which is all kind of strange because I can’t wrap my head around my heart (literal or metaphorical) being connected to a God’s heart. It all gets very confusing which is why all of us need your help. So, please help us to see and feel what it means to wash the feet of another. A troubled person or misfit. A person we run into in the market or at work or in the neighborhood. This is not easy but it’s probably good. Amen.

There is beautiful light in this late afternoon as I pause from the flood of other activities to sit still, reflect and see if a few words flow.

A very nice little piano piece complements the light.

By outward signs, I’m in a different place than two weeks ago. I have permission to engage. Something which is both welcome and a challenge. I have been forced to sideline two things I really wanted to pay attention to in this near term timeframe, both inviting and rewarding. Ah, choices.

Emmaus and a rather significant, if only temporary, family matter (no one you know) has swooped in and captured a lot of my time and attention. Emmaus, of course, is not a surprise. The family matter is.

But, it’s not all projects, responsibilities and commitments.

I had the most delightful lunch and extended walk today with my special friend, Mike. Some of you know him. We were college roommates. He stood up at my baptism in the spring of 1977, along with lifelong friend, Shack. I was best man at his wedding. We have shared a whole lot of life together. Today, it was lunch and a midday stroll around Lake Hodges. My first time actually out in the world, walking a trail, since the artery thing. Wonderful. Birds. Breeze. A lot of geek talk. He’s a tech guy. Well, he’s a lot more than a tech guy (he’s an athlete and has many, many interests) but he’s also a tech guy. Been retired for awhile and teaches tech stuff to a lot of seniors. Actually, I’m a senior so his students are my people. Mike was a very successful top executive for a premier company whose name everyone will recognize. Lives in the same house he and his wonderful wife bought in 1983, if memory serves. They don’t come more humble than Mike. Deep and abiding faith. An inspiration. We geeked out on tech talk as we walked. Test drove some radios for distance, volume, squelch and all of that stuff. We also talked backup systems, troubleshooting and the like. It was just a real blessing to be walking along a shoreline with a close friend, feeling the warm breeze, chatting with bird watchers, resting in the day.

That walk also helped give me a break from this torrent of stuff that is my course at the moment. No complaining as this is how most of us live our lives. Just making an observation. I intend, very soon, to write about balance. It touches me when I hear that this or that has resonated.

Three things happened yesterday that deserve mentioning. First, Neal shared a perfect message to the congregation in the morning. It concerned trust. Let’s trust the lessons we’ve learned about God’s faithfulness and presence. I can’t agree more. He’s shown up more times than I can remember in the last ten years. During tough times, he’s shown up in a big way. Like, I had no idea how to get through this thing and he showed up and it worked out. I finally got the point. Trust him. Hasn’t failed yet.

Then, we had just a plainly perfect lunch with Tony and Kathleen and were overjoyed that they’ll join Tim, Anita, Diane and me on Leg 1 of our Mediterranean odyssey in July. Two weeks ago, I didn’t know if I could go or would be in a position to even consider going. Now, I’m like the cruise director. How fun is that!

Then, one of my all time favorite and best students, Ashley, Uni High Class of 1986, dropped by the house for a visit. She has the same laugh she had as a seventeen year old. Very infectious. New York Times Bestselling author. Mucky-a-muck in the White House … I won’t mention which one because I don’t want any pre-judging. It was great to see her. I think she still feels like I was a pretty decent history teacher. Lee was over and interacted for awhile. I let them talk philosophy and stuff. Generations.

The rest of this week will be extremely busy. Not sure how I’ll get through it all. After Saturday, perhaps, a respite.

None of that matters in light of what Shannon and others are facing. You others? You know I know who you are. My mind and heart goes to you in the middle of the night. In the early morning and occasionally throughout the day. You are imprinted on Diane’s and my hearts. Your lives are our lives. May God bless you and encourage you and heal you and care for you.

Lord, thank you for small and great gifts. Thank you for trails and birds and lakes, even if some are pretty dried up. Thank you for old and new friends. Thank you for calling us. Thank you for giving us ears to hear. Please strengthen us and lead us. We surrender into your presence. Amen.

Dear Friends and Family,

If anyone has been wondering where I’ve been, there’s no special story. Actually, a lot of life just plain caught up. A big thing is Emmaus. As some of you know, I was appointed Lay Director of the men’s side last May, with responsibilities to plan and lead the big event in early April. The timing of my little artery problem was unfortunate as January is when everything gears up. The good news is that I was cleared to re-engage, albeit watching that I don’t overdo it. The other good news is that a team of absolutely terrific men and women have picked up the slack. The challenge is on how to navigate the next six or seven weeks.

On top of that, church and a number of other things have kept me pretty focused and I just haven’t had the three plus hours each day that I dedicated to preparing and writing my pieces. I tried exercising again … in a limited fashion. The first two times went fairly well but I overdid it the third time. Compared to my old routine, it was nothing, but I came home with shaky hands and a problem with my grip, so have stepped back for the past five or six days.

Honestly, a main focus of our attention has been on dear Shannon, whom I’ve written about before. She is really battling and has been in and out of the hospital. Even if you don’t know her (and you should really wish you did!), please pray for her … and her husband Jim and their four lovely daughters, Megan, Chelsea, Sophie, and Molly. What a beautiful and faithful family who is faced with such a difficult situation … that developed out of nowhere. I’m attaching a picture we took on Friday of our Little Band of Believers, reaching out in joy and prayer to our sister, Shannon. We love you and are praying without ceasing! So happy to see Connie and Rex join us, as well. (Susan, of Team Susan, is the beautiful lady in the far back with her hand raised. A miracle if there is one!)

I have started and written parts of posts on several other themes and will get to them when I can. God bless each of you.

Dear Lord, thank you for the gift of each day. Thank you for providing us with moments of deep joy in the midst of times and places that seem desolate. What greater gift than the gift of love, as expressed through full hearts? We are reminded all of the time that we are not in charge and that, if we just surrender, we can find immeasurable strength in that simple and profound action. From you all blessings flow. Amen.

Brad

It gets a bad name in many quarters. Some of it deserved, some of it definitely not. Probably most of you, but nowhere near all, who are reading this belong to some faith community. As in, a group of people who organize in some fashion around a transcendent belief. Politics, athletics, and cooking clubs don’t count. Not that those things aren’t really good reasons to organize groups around, they just aren’t to the point here.

When it comes to God, the Spirit, or however people view life outside of plain biochemistry, everyone has an opinion on the best way to get grounded … or saved … or completed. Setting aside wars and persecution and all of that, folks can get riled up about appropriate music, dress, sacramental practice, who presides over ceremony, and a lengthy laundry list of the right and wrong way to do things. Choirs. Bands. Hymns. Priests and Pastors. Bible or no Bible. Other sacred texts. Prayer. Meditation. Lengthy sermons. Short homilies. Silence. It’s exhausting!

This is one reason I fought God for thirty years. There was just way too much difference in all of these things. And none of them seemed perfect. In fact, I found fault with nearly every one. I mean, if they can’t figure out the best way to get in touch with the Other and people are constantly debating this point or that, who am I to commit? Now, for some of you, this was never a problem. But, I’m a tough case with more than my share of ego that bristled. Forgive me.

Well, it’s safe to say I’ve found church. Real honest to goodness church. I’ve spoken about it before but I feel called to put it out there again. If you’re reading this and are not part of a faith community, I’d beg some patience. Hopefully, my point will transcend a lot of the divisiveness.

I didn’t find church right away. Even after I went belly up in surrender in 2005. It was like, “Here I am, what’s next?” I won’t bore you with the details but it started with a prayer and some attention by some really good people that God dumped on me. The prayer was basically, “Lord, I need help. I get that you’re real. It’s hard not to get that you’re real because you actually showed up. I mean, really showed up as in there is no alternative explanation to the fact that you showed up. And, now that you’re real, I need help. Please surround me with people who can help me grow into the type of person you designed me to be. I have a sense of what that design is supposed to look like now and I definitely need help. Even though I may have a few of the pieces, I need help. Did I mention I need help?” That about sums up my prayer at the time.

The rest is history. Now, the doubter will observe that all of these people I’ve met and come to know very deeply could have crossed my path anyway. Well, maybe some. In fact, some had already crossed my path. But, there is no way. No way that any of what has happened to me could have occurred without supernatural influence. Period. And, I’m a rationalist!

So, what did God do? What is this church he showed me? What is it that he offers each of us?

I believe that we are designed to be in community. We are communal organisms. A few may reject this and become hermits or ascetics or monks that decry connecting with others. But nearly all of us seek relationship with other people. We work very hard at it. We can’t help it. Some of us may be better at relationships than others but we all seek it. Even most ascetics and monks collect themselves in community with other ascetics and monks. What’s going on here?

I won’t go on here about biology or evolution or the social construction of reality (I actually had to read an amazingly difficult book with that title once!). Let’s put all of that aside and just agree that relationships are important. And, to continue with our basic examination, let’s just throw in that love is kind of important. And pretty natural. So, loving relationships are pretty ingrained in our makeup.

To me, that’s where church begins and ends. Loving relationships. Whether it’s a relationship with God or one another, that’s the point of church. Church is the manifestation of God’s will in our human existence. At least to me it is.

In a basic Christian understanding, the church is the body of Christ. Well, what does that mean? That can sound very weird. But, actually, it’s not that weird. If Jesus ushered in a view of reality that says we are here to be in loving relationships and serve one another in love, then his “body” is the encompassing of all of that. I believe it’s that simple.

So, church, as I see it, is people coming together in loving relationships that are structured to look out for one another and help each other flourish.

I buy into this belief that the church is Jesus’ body in action today. His teaching and example is a commandment for all of us. If he is as he said he is, that’s rather important. This rationalist, former searcher, practitioner of different faith traditions, can’t find fault with anything he said.(I may not completely understand everything but I can’t find fault with the stuff I do understand.) Everything he said matches with my experience and understanding of reality. For me, that’s proof. Others, including some of you, may disagree, which I respect, but that’s my belief.

I’ll try to bring this home now.

I think I said in the last week some time that I “belong” to something like six churches. That’s not a boast and I’m no example to hold up by any stretch of the imagination. (I’m still that younger brother in Luke 15.)

Beginning with three days ago on Friday, church was at the Millsom house with the Little Band of Believers. Saturday, it was celebrating and worshipping with the Emmaus Community which is built around sharing God’s love with others through acts of service. Yesterday, it was at “regular” church, where at the end of a fabulous hour, Dawn invited the congregation to come forward who were ill or hurting and receive prayer. I went, of course, and was surrounded by dozens of loving people who either were in need of prayer and support or were there to provide it. You can’t imagine what it feels like to have loving hands holding on to you in that kind of a situation. Thank you!

This morning, I was with my small group of other guys, praying and focusing on some of the big things in life.

Wednesday morning, I’ll have coffee with a covenant partner.

Wednesday evening, Diane and I will join our “small” group of seven couples as we navigate life together.

None of these things is a struggle to attend. All of them, save one, were integrated long ago into the fabric of life Diane and I live, before retirement.

They have two things in common. The first is that they are made up of people who seek to be in deep relationships with others and who are led to look out for others’ welfare. The second is that the focal point is God, with an appreciation that he offers us a different kind of life.

What, then, is church really? That’s simple. It’s sharing life. Consciously joining in community. A community that values things like love, hope, compassion and grace, serving others (especially those who struggle or who are marginalized by the rest of society). A community that values the place of worship and other spiritual disciplines. This community also values transparency, as much as that is possible. It values forgiveness and redemption and the relief of the burden on self and others.

This church is not about rules and a legalistic view of reality. In fact, that’s one of the main reasons Jesus came into this world. He came to turn religion on its ear and to condemn the primacy of the legalistic perspective. Humans have corrupted the church, which is to be expected because we all fall far short of the ideal. Nevertheless, all organizations need rules and structures and there are countless examples of how those rules and structures have assisted in furthering the values mentioned above and not impeding them.

Diane and I would say that we’re IN church continuously. To some, that might be the theme of a horror movie! Certainly, the type of church we live in is not portrayed at all well in the media or common conversation. Remarkably, it takes very little effort once we open ourselves to what is possible. Sure, we probably watch far less television than the average household. We have a few less blocks of time we could choose to use for other things. But, we still have plenty of time for other priorities in our life. And, this was just as true when we were working full time.

If I have not been clear, I wish for this kind of life for everyone. It’s a Door A/Door B kind of thing. “Do I want to realize the fruits of these things?” Just ask and, then, Behold.

Lord, thank you for showing us how to live a life that is built around these values you taught. It’s not easy, by any means. But it becomes easier when we are in close community with many others. Please open doors to opportunities to share life in ways that are truly fulfilling. Help us not to judge the failures of institutions but to consider how some groups and organizations have achieved monumental things. Help us not to focus on hypocrisies but to see wonderful opportunities. Thank you for calling me to something greater. Amen.

I have written before about Friday morning and it bears attention again. Most of the people in the group have been followers of Jesus for many, many years, if not their entire lives. But, not a one will say this recent experience has been anything less than truly transformational. Actually, miraculous. And, we don’t toss that word around lightly.

There’s not a one of us who emerges thinking we’d have rather been anywhere else than right there. I said before that this is church. Really and truly church. Non-church people who think of a particular thing when they think of church would not recognize it. Perhaps many or even most church people would not recognize it. While we have a kind of loose structure, there aren’t rules. We talk with one another, sharing joys and concerns. We read and listen to a few short pieces of scripture. We sing. Well, some of us sing. We laugh and weep. And, we pray. Boy, do we pray. We are transparent to one another. We extend our sharing and praying to a whole lot of people who are not present. It’s like everyone is family.

Unlike our amazing and very similar couples’ small group, this group is almost all women. A number of them are either related or have been close friends for something like thirty years. Their children have grown up together. Frequently, these young adult children are present if their work or college breaks allow. When Diane’s dear friend, Susan, was diagnosed with the inoperable brain cancer two and a half years ago, Diane quickly joined the spontaneous prayer group that broke out in Susan’s home. Since we had just retired, it was now possible to make a 7:30am Friday session. I believe I started attending two or three months later. Now, there is really no distinction. Life long friends, blood family, a newcomer like me. It feels like we’re all basically the same. Just Family. We coined the cute phrase: Little Band of Believers. Woven together by common threads. The threads become cords that bind in love.

Today was special. Especially hard and especially loving. I have written about how this group (just like our small group and other dear friends) came alongside Diane and me six weeks ago and hasn’t left for a moment. What began as Team Susan (and still is!!), has expanded. There are others, including me, who have faced tremendous challenges since the inception. And, now, the latest. Dear Shannon, our leader if we have one now. She arrives each Friday morning, as cheery as a spring day, but with a bit of wit and a twinkle. She has always prepared a few thoughts that have struck her that week, often about Susan or someone in need. Perhaps a reflection she’d like to share. She refers briefly to scripture then plays a piece of music, having dutifully printed out the lyrics. When Susan’s husband, Andy, is present (when work allows), they have a give and take like two siblings who love to tease.

Shannon was told earlier this week that she probably has multiple myeloma, a tough cancer. Her husband and two remarkable daughters joined us, as did some others of that younger generation. We were also joined by several others so our little band was unusually large. Nothing was really different, however. We laughed, cried, prayed deeply, sang and laid hands on Shannon, as they had done to me some weeks ago. Beautiful Shannon, surrounded by people who love her and will not leave her side for as long as this thing takes.

How else would one want to live their life?

As I’m writing this, Diane just told me that a text came through that Shannon has rushed back to the hospital. We stopped what we were doing to pray as so many others are doing. The network is abuzz. We are of one body.

I know that some will ask the purpose of prayer. There is always debate about how that works. I understand the debate. I get the questions. I don’t dismiss them as irrelevant. Maybe I’ll write about that at some point.

But, here’s something that can’t be dismissed. The power of people who love one another. Who surrender into one another and care for each other. If that’s all prayer is (and it isn’t, by the way), that alone would warrant the practice.

Fifteen years ago, there is no way I could have imagined this kind of life. Not a chance. You might as well have tried to sell me swamp land in Florida. The journey since has been nothing short of miraculous. And, to think Diane and I are connected to so many others in relationships like this, it’s just beyond words. So, with that, I’ll end for now.

Lord, please shower Shannon and her family with grace and love. Embrace them. Surround them. Provide them with the medical care they desperately need. Give them strength and courage. Help all of us to reach out to them, whether we know them well or are perhaps reading about them here for the first time. Please heal her body and lift her spirits. She is your daughter and loves you so much. We ask this in Jesus’ name. Amen.

I’ve been meaning to write about this for awhile. It kind of fits in there with other small topics like love, grace and wonder. 🙂

Actually, it’s a better match with love and wonder, not grace, in a certain sense. As in, we constantly use words like love, wonder and hope to mean all sorts of things, while the word grace is hardly ever used, and even less understood. I think if we asked the average non-religious person what comes to mind when they hear the word, “grace,” they’d maybe reply that it’s something religious people say before dinner. But, however it’s understood, whatever the context, it’s not a word that gets much play in day to day conversation.

It’s different with love, wonder, and hope. I’ve already taken a stab at love and wonder and I guess I’ll try to do likewise with hope. The timing is good, with our latest news.

In Paul’s letter to the Romans at 8:24, he says, “For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have?”

This is a powerful insight into the nature of hope, however we encounter the Christian worldview. We can take the simple last expression and go, “duh!” Or, we can see it as a clarification of the power in the first sentence.

What am I getting at? Everyone hopes and everyone uses the word all of the time. It can be a simple toss away like, “Man, I hope it stops raining soon.” Or, (thinking), “I hope that lady with the full cart doesn’t get in the checkout line before me!” It can also go a bit deeper, as in, “I REALLY hope she likes me.” Maybe, “I hope I get that job!”

Like love and, maybe, wonder, I think it’s great that people use the word hope. It’s only natural, of course, because we all hope. We always have and always will. Even those who have not really experienced love or wonder (what a tragedy!), undoubtedly hope.

But, what is hope that saves? That’s something to think about.

I think in order to go there, we need to look more deeply inward. See if you agree. I started a moment ago by referring to hope as a kind of fleeting desire. Here and gone. Maybe a bit stronger in the last two examples about relationship and job. Of course, Paul is right in that hope refers to something unseen, unattained. That desire is to connect with the unseen or unattained thing, therefore fulfilling the desire. At least, that’s the theory.

But, just as it’s helpful to try plumbing the depths of love and wonder, we should do that with hope. Again, what is hope that saves? What can that possibly mean and how can we make that useful?

What came to me a few moments ago as I sat down to tackle this subject, was to raise up the distinction between desiring something and yearning for it. To me, desire tugs at us while yearning pulls at us to the point it can deeply affect our behavior and life. If I were to interpret hope through the lens of desire, it would offer limited fulfillment. That hope might jump to something else, once that desire was met. Or, that hope appeared fleeting as the desire was not fulfilled, so I become less hopeful, detached, angry, depressed, even despondent. Maybe you’ll look at it somewhat differently, but I’ll take a stab it this way: Yearning is Desire on steroids. As in, I’m all in. This thing I seek is really big. It’s the center of my focus.

Of course, alarms could be going off about now. This line of thinking is easily attached to our previous thinking about the things we value the most and how they can become idols that never fulfill.

But, it’s a given that some THING or THINGS are at the center of our focus and often create a yearning. A deep desire. And, that yearning is the call. The call for something to fulfill or even complete us. For something, in fact, to save us.

Most of the things we yearn for, that beckon us towards them, are transitory. We arrive only to find that the yearning was actually more compelling and meaningful than the thing now achieved. The bloom wears off the rose. Unless the yearning is for something permanent. Unless the call is from something permanent.

Maybe I’m a little off base. But, I think hope that saves is a way of gently relating to that call … the call that speaks to our deep places and creates a yearning for completion.

I think it gets a little tricky here as we circle back to hope. Is hope the same as a dream? A wish? A fantasy? I’d like to think not. I think I mentioned before at some point that for some time now, I’ve responded to the question, “Are you an optimist?” (I’m not sure anyone has described me as pessimist by nature) … with “No, I’m a realist who hopes.”

While hope is for something not immediately present or attainable it IS for something realistic. It is not a wish or a dream. Especially if it is a hope that saves.

I’m hopeful. Hope Filled. Goodness, I live in anticipation of wonderful things that are life-giving. Hope allows me to see good when I’m surrounded by bad. Maybe that good is hard to see and maybe its presence is only faintly felt as a kind of mist in life. Sometimes, I need reminders, especially when the challenges and threats seem to come in waves and cut to the core. But, I need to testify that it’s getting easier to connect with hope. The hope that saves.

That same hope that saves is the hope we can breathe in our normal life. The same hope that saves is the hope that helps us shift our attention from the voice that whispers, “Be afraid.” “Give in to the suffering.” “You are in this alone.” The hope that saves whispers, instead, “I love you.” “You are held.” And, this is just a moment. A moment in the great course of your existence. There is so much more. More of that joy and beauty you adore. And, it’s here right now. Open your eyes and your heart. And, it’s here forever.”

The opposite of hope is despair. How awful. We need not despair. It is all right to hope. It is RIGHT to hope. Like love and grace, hope is the air we breathe.

I have not really gone into what I hope for. I think there’s more to explore here. Perhaps that will be Part III. 🙂