Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Christmas 2009

One of the truths of relationships is that a move toward someone, by risking self-disclosure, trusting them with a part of your life you share with trusted people, usually results in a corresponding move in your direction. I move toward you, you move toward me. If you move toward me, I am inclined to reciprocate. It is the basic stuff of human connectedness.

One November Saturday in 1979, I heard someone singing in the sanctuary of the Riverhills Church of God. At the time, I was teaching at Riverhills Christian School, operated by the church, in Tampa FL. I made a staggering $161.00 a week, if memory serves, and I worked part-time as the church janitor for some extra cash. That's why I was there on that Saturday.

I walked into the sanctuary through the side entrance, near the stage and I saw James Byrd, my pastor, sitting at the sound table in the back of the church. With earphones on, he was practicing his solo for the Christmas cantata, "His Love Reaching." I paused in my duties, unseen by the singer and listened to his clear baritone sing, "Love kept on longing, and Love kept on reaching, right past the shackles of my mind..." Believe me, it sounded wonderful.

I have thought of that moment and that song several times this week as I anticipate Christmas. Christmas is the story of God reaching for us, God coming to us, God with us. Emmanuel. Coming to us not because we were righteous, or good, or deserving, but because were weren't.

I meet people bound with skackles of their own everyday. You do too. It is easy to dismiss them, to catagorize them, to depersonalize them and dehumanize them. We can come up with all kinds of reasons why they may be entitled to healthcare, but not our care. But in my head I hear that song; Love longing...Love reaching. I am called to care, called to love. Christmas reminds me to move toward them, to reach out to them, to care for them and about them. That's what Love did. That's what Love does.

Merry Christmas

Jerald

Saturday, December 12, 2009

The Gift of Light

In the Pentecostal tradition, and indeed in many other conservative evangelical churches, there is an aversion to formal liturgy. "It has to come from the heart." "We don't need a program, we just let God have his way." But formal programs, liturgy and the experienced, powerful, presense of the Spirit are not mutually exclusive necessarily.

Having been powerfully influenced by spiriual spontaneity in the formation of my faith, I don't usally write out the prayers of invocation that I am often asked to do in my role as a hospital chaplain. Perhaps the only thing more powerful than this influence is my fear of making a fool of myself in front of a few thousand people. The latter won out and as I have for a few other "big" events" I wrote out a prayer of invocation for our hospital's annual Gift of Light celebration. I have not had such a reaction to a public prayer since I used the word "vicissitudes" in an invocation at my former place of employment seven or eight years ago. So, here it is.

Gift of Light 2009
Let us Pray.
Almighty God, who in beginning declared “Let there be light” we come to you.
O God who’s Light pierced the darkness and the darkness comprehended it not, we call out to you.
O Lord of Light, in whose presence no darkness dwells, we turn to you and humbly ask that you hear our prayer.
As in the beginning, Lord, where there is darkness, let there be Light.
In the darkness of hatred, let there be Light.
In the darkness of loneliness, let there be Light.
In the darkness of poverty, let there be Light.
In the darkness of sickness, let there be Light.
In the darkness of grief, let there be Light.
In the darkness of sin, let there be Light.
Indeed, God we pray above all else that in our own hearts, let there be Light. Let your Light shine, surround us with its glow and fill us with its love so that we become lights, dispelling the darkness.
This is our prayer. Amen.

Blessings to you all,

Jerald

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Blessed With Needs

Glimmers
December 4, 2009

“You say, 'I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.' But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked.” (Rev. 3:17 NIV)

My Pastor, who I assert is wise well beyond his 35 years of age, is currently preaching a sermon series called “Blessed.” One of the points he made in his last sermon was that we have been blessed with needs. Blessed with needs? The very thought flies into the face of reason. Wouldn’t we be better blessed to be free of needs? Wouldn’t it be great to have no worries? Wouldn’t it be wonderful to be self-sufficient and need nothing from anyone and to have no one else who needed anything from us? HALLELUJAH! Actually, no it wouldn’t.

If you have seen the movie Castaway starring Tom Hanks, you will remember that he was the only survivor of a plane crash that left him alone on a small, remote island. He had learned how to fish, to provide his own shelter, and he learned how to make a fire to keep himself warm. He even learned how to be his own dentist! But he couldn’t learn how to live alone. His need for an “other” caused him to personify a volleyball and name it Wilson. Ultimately, his need for real companionship drove him to leave the island.

Needs, and our relentless pursuit to meet those gnawing, aching, longings are cleverly disguised blessings. They make us truly human. They drive us to one another, to giving and receiving, to blessing others and being blessed by them. They drive us to acts of compassion for others in need and inspire thanksgiving and gratitude for our own needs that have been met by the actions of others.

Strange as it may seem, having no needs is the greatest poverty of all.

Blessings to you all,

Jerald