Fred Craddock: He Wrote the Book on Preaching

They say celebrities die in "threes".  A short time ago we lost one of the most prominent figures of my young adult years, Leonard Nimoy.  The second we lost this past weekend, though celebrity might be a stretch.  Fred Craddock was an unassuming and gracious man who would likely resist the label celebrity himself.  Additionally most of my readers will probably not know him by name.  Despite the fact that he literally wrote the book on preaching (Preaching by Fred B. Craddock) and was recognized as one of the ten best living preachers, those who are outside the confines of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), and a few other traditions or those outside the ministry will probably not recognize the name.  Dr. Craddock was not a televangelist and did not seek to be in the spotlight.  He was a quiet man who simply wanted to minister to others and proclaim the good news.  But he was also more than that.

The Rev. Dr. Fred Craddock was a pioneer and an innovator in preaching, developing a narrative style that he used to showcase what he called the inductive method of preaching.   He built on extensive study of the biblical text (in order to preach one must have something to say and that requires study - study is not getting away from one's daily work, but getting into it - paraphrased from As One Without Authority by Fred B. Craddock) as well as his love of writing and storytelling to build this style of homiletic.  It was a purposeful design that was intended to guide the hearer to the point of the sermon even as the preacher was arriving there in his words.  It worked.  At least it seemed to work as attested to by the fact that this small, quiet, humble man could draw listeners into the largest venues so that there was standing room only when he preached.

But he was more than a preacher - he was a minister, a teacher, a guide and a mentor to many, many prospective ministers and preachers.  And whether you embrace his style of preaching or not, he undeniably influenced generations of preachers in this country, changing the landscape of sermon delivery - in some cases without the preacher himself even being aware of Craddock's influence.

I was never privileged to study with Dr. Craddock.  But I did have the privilege of serving Central Avenue Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) in Humboldt, TN, which was his home church. I was humbled to share some time and some one on one conversations with him about preaching and ministry - to sit at the feet of the master, so to speak, even if only briefly.  I was a first hand witness to the power of his preaching style and to the way he drew people to the gospel of Jesus Christ.  He was a tremendous influence whether you knew him or not, and whether or not you recognize his name or his celebrity, if such it can be called.

I celebrate the life of Dr. Craddock today as they eulogize him at Cherry Log Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) in Georgia - the church where he was pastor emeritus.  I laud his influence on myself and so many other pastors and preachers.  And I encourage all of us to recognize that it is not necessarily in fame and fortune that we influence people - sometimes it is simply in engaging in the call and vocation to which we have been called.  Sometimes the influence we have on people is simply in living our lives -  "preaching is to some extent self-disclosure by the preacher" (Preaching) and it involves not just sharing what we know but who we are. It is often not the flash of lightening or the roar of thunder but the quiet influence of sharing who we are with someone else.

Today I celebrate the life of a man who simply lived his call and vocation and in so doing touched the lives of many -  many of whom may not even realize that he has touched them.  Dr. Craddock taught me that it is not the magnificent victories or the grand actions that most deeply influence people - it is the simple act of living life with honesty and integrity - of living out who we are as people of God in Christ.  We are ripples on the pond, multiplying and creating additional ripples, and the full extent of our impact on the distant shore may not ever be apparent to us.  He will be missed.

Merry Happy Christmas Holiday

It's that time of year.  The time when everyone gets a little kinder, when people seem to be a bit friendlier and when all the world falls in love.  It is that wonderful time of year when people begin protesting the phrase "Happy Holidays."

I am not sure when it was exactly that "Happy Holidays" fell on such hard times.  I remember, with some nostalgia, Perry Como crooning "may the merry bells keep ringing, happy holidays to you..." from somewhere back in the '50's.  It seemed to have been okay then.  Why is it suddenly such a bad thing?  Is it because we believed some talking head who told us that it was anti-Christian?  Is it because we truly believe there is a war on Christmas in this country?  Are we somehow trying to "keep Christ in Christmas" by saying only "Merry Christmas" and not "Happy Holidays?"

As a historian, and as a church historian, allow me to correct our perceptions, if I may.  The phrase "Happy Holidays"is actually rooted in Christian tradition, and is, in fact, in its origin, Christian.  That's right.  It began as a Christian tradition and cannot be divorced from Christian faith simply because we do not remember its origins.  In the early church, when Christmas was still celebrated for twelve days (yes, the song is historical in its origins as well - so, too, is Santa Claus, whose beginning is like wise Christian, but that's another blog), the greeting of Merry Christmas was only used up until the actual arrival of Christmas.

For the next twelve days, from Christmas day up to Epiphany, which is still celebrated in many churches, and which marked the end of the holy tide of Christmas, a different wish and greeting was extended.  During that season the greeting and wish was for Happy Holy Days.  Holy Days was eventually contracted into the more modern form, holiday, or holidays.  The wish was extended that one might have a happy season of holy day celebrations, or that they might have blessed holy days.

Writing in his blog, Lew Rockwell says, "Holiday is not only a religious word; it is a Christian word. Its derivation is from the Old English through the Middle English. Holy might somewhat predate Christian England from the Angles and Saxons, but in its persistence down through Middle English holy very much has brought down its Christian associations, both Roman Catholic, then Church of England. The reader doesn't have to believe, just acknowledge."

Eventually the phrasing crossed from Middle English into more modern vernacular and we end up with the modern greeting "Happy Holidays." This greeting, by the way, can be documented in common usage during the holiday season in the U.S. in newspapers and magazines going back about a hundred years.  It is by no means new and by no means secular.  One cannot, in fact, deny its roots in Christianity even if one intends it to be a less religious greeting.  By definition and derivation, holy days, cannot become secular simply by contracting the word.

And finally, I would suggest that if we want to keep Christ in Christmas, it is not the greeting that does it, but rather our participation in church and our own faithfulness to the Lord.  We cannot influence anyone else to be religious, except by our own participation and through our own example.  So whether the store clerk wishes you "Merry Christmas" or "Happy Holidays" know that both are a nod to the Christian origins of this most blessed of holy days and take comfort in your own faith practices as the example to others of God's love in Christ that we celebrate at Christmas.

Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays!

The Fast God Chooses

I am going to tell you something that might startle you.  Do not fast for Lent.  Do not give up anything for Lent.

Shocked?  Don't be.

Over the years I've heard many people talking about what they are giving up for Lent.  Often I hear things like chocolate, soft drinks, alcohol, and assorted other items.  One year about midway through the Lenten season at a Wednesday night dinner at a previous church, the lady in the serving line next to me commented, "The desserts look so good, too bad I can't have one.  I gave up sweets for Lent.,"  As she proudly proclaimed her Lenten fast, I think I may have stunned her a bit when I replied simply, "Why?"  I could see the puzzled look on her face as she searched for an answer, "Well, for Lent,"  she said as though that was answer enough.  "But why?" I responded.  She paused for a moment then changed the subject by asserting that the line had moved.

So have you given up something for Lent?  If so, my question for you is the same as it was for her, why?

Don't get me wrong; I am entirely in favor of fasting.  In fact, as I stand on today's 'Soapbox' I will suggest that this is one of the spiritual disciplines that the modern church most desperately needs to reclaim.  We (the church in general) in this country are, for the most part, extremely well to do.  We have forgotten, in many cases, what the generations of the Depression and WWII knew so well:  how to sacrifice.  Indeed, statistics suggest that as of last year almost 1/3 of Americans qualifies as obese.  So, yes, by all means fast - give up something.  But this is what we need to remember:  if the point of the fast is the fast itself, that is not a fast, it's a diet. 

The point of a fast is to give up something so that we can focus more deeply on God.  The point of a fast and the point of Lent is not to diet - it is to reconnect with God or to connect with God in a deeper way.  This is what my friend who gave up sweets wasn't understanding in our conversation (and yes, I did clarify this a little further down the line).  What I was asking her was how was giving up dessert going to deepen her connection to God.  Yes, we need to fast, and I am all for healthy eating, but the fast we need is a fast that deepens our connections to God.

So here is the question I encourage you to ask as you begin your Lenten journey:  what is it, in my life that is keeping me from God?  That's the fast you should choose.  It may be food.  More likely it is not - more likely giving up chocolate, sweets, or soft drinks is done for you, for your personal betterment.  But if that is what you need to do, then I encourage you to find a way to connect that fast to a deeper walk with God.  However, let me again urge you to ask the question, what is interfering with my relationship with God?  Is it TV, Facebook, internet?  Perhaps you could fast from these and use this time for devotional or prayer. But let's get down to the real nitty gritty.  Is it alcohol?  A secret porn addiction? Do you gossip?  have unbridled anger?  a swearing habit?  There is no rule that says you need to tell other people what your fast is, and if you are struggling with one of these, I encourage you to use Lent in your battle, strive to give it up for Lent, and spend that time in prayer or Bible study.  What interferes with your relationship to God?  It is a difficult question, but if you answer honestly, your Lenten fast can become one that not only builds you but builds your faith walk with the Lord.

But there is an even deeper fast that God calls us to.  Remember that Jesus summarizes all of the laws, commandments, purity codes, and oral traditions into two commands:  love God, love your neighbor as yourself.  Then he equates our relationship with our neighbors to our relationship with God.  The way we love our neighbors (and who is my neighbor? the teacher asked, and Jesus replied with a pretty inclusive answer in the Good Samaritan), the way we love our neighbor IS the way we love God.  So as you consider your Lenten fast, hear the words of the prophet Isaiah (58:6-10), "Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of injustice...to let the oppressed go free...?  Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin?  Then your light shall break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up quickly; ...Then you shall call, and the LORD will answer; you shall cry for help, and he will say, Here I am. If you remove the yoke from among you, the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil, if you offer your food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted, then your light shall rise in the darkness ..."

I encourage us as we choose what we will give up for Lent - do not just give something up, but engage in a true fast, giving up something to focus us more deeply on God.  I encourage us to fast, but to engage in a fast of the Lord's choosing.  What stands between you and a deeper relationship with God?  Perhaps more time in devotional study and prayer is what you need.  But perhaps the fast that you need is to surrender time, talent, and treasure to serve at the food bank, or the homeless shelter.  Perhaps you need to fast from the abundance of your normal life to serve in a mission or on a mission trip or some other form of outreach.

I encourage us as we begin this Lenten journey toward Holy Week and glorious good news of Easter not engage in meaningless fasts or diets, but to examine ourselves deeply and ask what we need to do to deepen our connection to God.  That is the fast that we should choose, because that is the fast that God chooses.

I Love You

A reflection based on Isaiah 43:1-7

In a sermon the first Sunday of Advent,  I spoke about Leon.  I told you that I felt like he and his wife, Katy, embodied hope.  But I also think that they shared one of the most powerful love stories that I have had the privilege of witnessing.  I spoke about his time in Italy during WWII, driving pack mules through the mountains and wondering if he would live to get back to the base.  They were shelled going up the mountain with supplies and shelled going back down the mountain with empty packs. And we talked often about his time in Italy, and his concerns about making it home to her.  But the time passed while she waited at home and he longed to get back to her.  One day she received his telegram, “It’s been a long stretch from no man’s land back to you but I made it well and safe.  See you soon.  I am on my way to you and will never leave again.  Love, Leon.”

That would be an impressive story if it ended there.  But it doesn’t.  After 70 years of marriage, through the good times, and through the bad, they were side by side.  Then Katy fell and hit her head on the concrete of their garage.  It was a few days before Thanksgiving one year.  She had massive tissue and cranial injuries.  She never fully recovered from that. But she lived another year and half – much of that time she was unresponsive though she slept and woke.  Finally, though, they had to put in a feeding tube, because she quit eating when it was offered, gradually growing less responsive.  But for a year and a half, Leon got up every morning at 6 am, as he had always done, and by 7:00 he was at the nursing home, where he spent the day with her.  When it started to get dark, he would head home – he had macular degeneration and couldn’t drive after dark.

In a year and a half, I don’t think he missed a day.  So when someone asks me about love, I think of Leon and Katy, who shared a love that braved the difficult times, that weathered the storms, and that was faithful and true until the very end.

Many of us probably have a story like theirs somewhere in our families.  And in fact, some of us may be that story; we may be living out now.  But this kind of love is not easy – people who are living that kind of love story will usually attest to that.  I often tell couples who are doing premarital counseling that this kind of love is only possible when God is present in the midst of it; it is God’s Spirit that helps us to keep our focus on each other instead of self, and that is what enables us to weather the difficulties of life.  For on the road of life, we will find twists and turns, roadblocks, potholes, hills, mountains, and valleys.  And it is only our love for each other, supported by the love of God, that will sustain us.

Shortly after I received my mid-life call to ministry, I was called to Leslie’s bedside.  He was the first person I was to minister to who was dying.  And I don’t need to tell you that of all the difficulties of life that we have to face, this is probably the most difficult, to be dying and to know it – of all the dark shadows in the valleys of life, this one is probably the darkest.  Leslie had cancer – it had started as prostate cancer and metastasized.  During the final few days, his wife and children by his side, I was to see the depths of his love – not just for his family, but for his friends, his church, his minister, and above all for God.  For Leslie, the song, “Jesus Loves Me” was a song that deeply resonated with him.  He had a gentle spirit that even while dying embraced the deepest love for God and showed a new minister the power of faith.  It was several years later that I encountered another story, one that reminded me of Leslie. 

His name was Steve, and he, too, was dying of cancer.  He received a card from someone in his church – a card that, I am sure, was supposed to encourage him and was almost certainly sent with the best intentions.  But the handwritten note in the inside cover of the card suggested that if he had more faith that God might yet heal him.  Steve was hurt, but with the help of his brother (he no longer had the strength to write), he sent a reply:

“I share your faith in the power of God to heal and sustain us.  There may be times though when God’s greatest miracle is not the miracle of physical healing, but the miracle of giving us strength in the face of suffering….

As I read the Bible God’s promise is not to remove all of our suffering in this world, but in the next.  In this one, we will sometimes weep, suffer, and die.  But in the next we are promised that “God will wipe away all tears…and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain, for the former things are passed away” (Rev. 21:14).

I sincerely hope that if my cancer continues to grow; no one will see it as a failure of my faith, but that they might see me as faithful even in the face of death.  I do not claim to understand God’s will, but I do know that God loves me and I am in the Lord’s hands, whether in life or in death.”

And I think that Steve expresses a profound truth here about the relationship between love and faithfulness.  It is a truth that I saw in Leslie, and one that I saw in Leon and Katy.  So, I ask us to consider:  can we truly claim to love our spouse if we are unfaithful?  Can we say that we love our family when we are not faithful in providing for them?  Can we say we love our church and our church family if we are not faithful in being present for them on a regular basis?  Can we say we love God if we are not faithful to God, to respond to his call, and to embrace his grace?  And can that faithfulness be only in the good times, or must it also be when things are rough and the road ahead is rocky and uncertain?  And what about God, who states that he loves us, can we say that God has been faithful?

Louis Cassels used a parable in one of his books that he called the parable of the birds.  It is really popular around Christmas, and I would like to paraphrase it for you this morning.  A man refused to go to church one Christmas Eve with his family.  He claimed that God couldn’t love him, because God couldn’t understand him – an all-powerful God couldn’t know anything about his situation. So his family went on without him. 

Shortly after the family drove away in the car, snow began to fall. He went to the window to watch the flurries getting heavier and heavier. Then he went back to his fireside chair to read his newspaper. Minutes later he was startled by a thudding sound. Then another and another — sort of a thump or a thud. At first he thought someone must have been throwing snowballs against his living room window.

But when he went to the front door to investigate, he found a flock of birds huddled miserably in the snow. They’d been caught in the storm and, in a desperate search for shelter, had tried to fly through his large landscape window. Well, he couldn’t let the poor creatures lie there and freeze, so he remembered the barn where his children stabled their pony. That would provide a warm shelter, if he could direct the birds to it.

Quickly he put on a coat and boots and then he tramped through the deepening snow to the barn. He opened the doors wide and turned on a light, but the birds did not come in. He figured food would entice them. So he hurried back to the house, fetched breadcrumbs and sprinkled them on the snow. He made a trail to the brightly lit, wide-open doorway of the stable. But to his dismay, the birds ignored the breadcrumbs and continued to flap around helplessly in the snow.

He tried catching them. He tried shooing them into the barn by walking around them and waving his arms. Instead, they scattered in every direction, except into the warm, lighted barn. And then he realized that they were afraid of him. To them, he reasoned, I am a strange and terrifying creature. If only I could think of some way to let them know that they can trust me — that I am not trying to hurt them but to help them. But how?  Any move he made tended to frighten and confuse them. They just would not follow. They would not be led or shooed, because they feared him.  “If only I could be a bird,” he thought to himself, “and mingle with them and speak their language. Then I could tell them not to be afraid. Then I could show them the way to the safe warm barn. But I would have to be one of them so they could see and hear and understand.”

Our passage from Isaiah this morning comes from a section of the book that many scholars call ‘2^nd Isaiah.’ This prophet who also calls himself Isaiah may have actually written from Babylon.  Israel’s captivity is coming to an end and they are celebrating, preparing to return to their beloved Jerusalem.  But Isaiah cautions them:  their life will not be easy.  God tells them, and us, through his prophet that life will be difficult, we will encounter times of fire – representing difficulty and struggle, stress and fatigue – as well as times of flooding and rushing waters – representing chaos and uncertainty, failing health, loss, and grief.  God doesn’t say “if” in the prophet’s words.  He says “when” – still, he assures us that he loves us.  And it is a love that is marked by faithfulness, a love that will offer a ransom for the people who call on his name.  God will give nations for us; God will pay just about any price for us.  But it won’t be good enough will it?

So God will pay the ultimate price, becoming one of us to demonstrate his love.  You are mine; I have called you by my name.  You are precious in my sight and honored and I love you.  Amen.

Why did the turkey cross the road?

In a rather campy TV show (now a motion picture) one of the prominent characters used to remark, "I love it when a plan comes together." I agree.  Unfortunately they do not often come together for me in the precise way that I imagine. 

Christmas can be such a stressful time.  But I was determined this year to have a relaxed Christmas.  It started out well enough.  Morning coffee with cinnamon roles, the family opening gifts, and a little Bing Crosby on the stereo.  Pleasant enough.  It continued well as I made stuffing and stuffed my turkey - extra stuffing placed in a Corning Ware dish to bake later.  By 9:30 the bird was stuffed and in the oven, extra stuffing in a dish in the fridge, and I was relaxing with hot tea in front of a fire.  It was going well - perhaps too well.

That's when it happened.  The power went out.  For years the electric companies have sought to convince us that electricity is inexpensive and reliable as a power source.  So, yes, our house is all electric.  Christmas morning, 24 degrees outside and the turkey and two pies in the oven and the power is out.  At least we had the fireplace for warmth.  But after an hour, I was concerned about the status of the turkey sitting partially cooked (it had cooked about an hour when the power went off) in a rapidly cooling oven.  With no signs that the power was coming back soon, I made an executive decision.  I told my wife that I thought I ought to carry the bird up to the church (about 5 minutes away) and put it in the oven there until our power came back.  How did I know the church had power?  As it turned out there was a large area of our fair town without power, but no, the church had power - I called the office on my cell phone and the answering machine picked up (it's electric).  So I bundled up, covered the turkey roasting pan, and armed with plenty of potholders, I set off for the church in my truck.

I had only had the turkey in the church oven for about 20 minutes when I received a text message: "the power is back on." Wonderful.  But what to do?  Just sit there by myself and allow the turkey to finish cooking in the church oven (another 2.5 hours or a bit more) or take a chance, take it home, and hope the power remained on.  What would you do?  It was Christmas after all, and I wanted to be with my family.  So, the turkey made the trek back to the house, bundled in its roasting pan and nestled into a bevy of potholders.  With the turkey safely ensconced in our oven, I had just settled into my favorite chair with another cup of tea and my new book when, you guessed it, the power went out again.

After about forty-five minutes of mounting anxiety about the power, I decided I could cook the turkey on the grill.  I built a fire and stoked it high, letting it begin to settle into a nice even bed of coals.  Then the tom moved from our oven to the grill.  Alas, it was very cold outside that day, with a stiff wind creating additional wind chill, and while the grill was working, it wasn't able to maintain even heat.  As I was losing my religion and my wife was suggesting taking the turkey back to the church, our eldest daughter arose from her nap and asked what all the fuss was about.  She has moved into her own place recently and assured us that she had power at her house.  "I want to shower and change anyway (she'd spent the night with us despite the fact she lives only a few blocks from us), so I can take the turkey and put it in my oven while I do that and then bring it back when I come." Problem solved.

Again bundled in its roasting pan and nestled in potholders, I sent the bird to her house.  Of course, about 15 minutes later the power came back.  I texted and told her the power was back but thought she should just keep the bird there until she was ready and then bring it back.  By then, it should be fully cooked.  I turned back to preparing the other items of our feast, my heart much lighter.  About fifteen minutes later, our youngest daughter who had left to visit friends came back in and asked if I would hold the door while she brought the turkey in. 

"How did you get the turkey?"
"I stopped at Em's on the way back and she sent it with me?"
Wow. Okay.

Sooo, once again the turkey took up residence in our oven.  But thanks be to God and the power company, the power stayed on and the rest of the meal preparation was uneventful.  Despite the turkey's many travels, it came out very well and the meal was excellent (even if I do say so myself).  Sometimes there are ups and downs and unexpected difficulties on the path we must travel.  It can be frustrating, maddening, and we can feel helpless and at the mercy of the cosmic chaos.  But if we trust in our God, if we trust that God is in control, then we must be confident that, in the end, it will turn out to be what God wants it to be.  Max Ehrmann writes in his poem "Desiderata" that "whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should."

In Isaiah 43:1-7, the prophet assures us that when (not if, but when) we encounter hardship, chaos and difficulty the Lord will be there to keep us.  My Christmas adventures with the turkey taught me a valuable lesson - one that I do really know, but sometimes forget - God is present in the world working in all things to achieve the purposes that serve Him.  No matter how tough the road we travel, the Lord is still there to bring us to the place we belong, in Him.

Blessings for the New Year!!

Time to Start Singing...

"Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near." 

Luke 21:28                                                                           

  

Beginning on Thanksgiving day or the day after (and some even begin before) many radio stations start playing Christmas music.  While I realize that everyone, including the radio stations and their advertisers, is trying to capitalize on that 'magical' feeling of Christmas, I wonder about that practice.  After all, there is a limited playlist and it is about 30 days from that point until Christmas.  Still, it is one way that people begin to prepare for Christmas.  And I hear people beginning to hum or sing along with their favorite, familiar carols as they play on the radio or in the stores.  They are preparing for Christmas.  As Christians, as we prepare for Christmas, we should also be preparing to celebrate and worship the Christ child.  Advent is the beginning of that preparation for the community of Jesus that we call church.

The Lukan text for the first Sunday of Advent comes from the portion that is often referred to as the "Little Apocalypse" and speaks, many believe, of the end times.  When the disciples, just as curious as the rest of us about the timing of that event, ask when it will be, Jesus replies cryptically that we should watch for the signs, as our "redemption is drawing near."  And in a way, some of the early signs of Christmas, the radio and stores playing Christmas music, are a sign that our redemption is near as we begin the Advent journey toward Bethlehem and the celebration of the birth of Christ.  For the coming of Emmanuel, God with us, is the signal that our redemption has arrived.  It is a journey that, for us, begins at Advent and takes us through to Lent and finally culminates at Easter where our redemption is fulfilled in the resurrection of our Lord.

There is an old story of a minister who encountered a young boy who was carrying a rusty old cage with several birds fluttering around nervously inside.  The minister inquired of the boy as to where he got the birds and what his plans for them were.  The boy told him he had trapped them in the field.  He thought he would take them home and play with them for a while and then, probably, feed them to their cat.  At that point the minister offered to buy them - $5 for the cage, birds, and all.  The boy protested, "They're not worth much, they don't even sing well." But the minister said it didn't matter he would still give him the money.  The boy worried that he was cheating a man of God, but finally reassuring the minister that he was making a bad deal, he took the money.  He handed the cage to the man of God and walked away whistling, happy with his new income.  The minister walked around to the back of the church, opened the cage and let the birds fly free.  The boy had said the birds wouldn't sing, but winging their way heavenward, they sang mightily - they had been freed - redeemed.

It is easy to forget in the midst of living each day that we have been freed from our burdens of sin, fear, and despair.  In the day to day busy-ness of living, of family, and of work and play, we can grow tired and become focused on the struggles of life, instead of celebrating our blessings.  We become trapped in a cage of our own making.  Jesus comes to free us from that cage.  At Advent we begin our preparations to receive our Lord again.  It is a reminder in the midst of the ordinary of everyday that we cling to a special hope that is eternal.  It is fulfilled in the promise of God through the coming of Jesus.  Advent is here, Christmas is coming, our Lord is born anew and again in our waiting hearts, a promise of hope and redemption.  It's time to start singing....

Where does God go when we turn out the lights?

"We seldom, if ever, allow the Holy Spirit to interrupt our plans and lead us to worship so that we might see Jesus." Max Lucado in When Christ Comes

A friend shared a thought with me the other day. He suggested that the mark of a deepening spirituality was allowing things to happen instead of making them happen. I think this is an excellent understanding for us to embrace as the people of Christ. Too often we are intent on a purpose defined and goal driven life. Even in our faith, we live with a goal: get to heaven. Now I am not saying that it is wrong to desire a place in heaven. I am not suggesting that it is somehow inappropriate to set goals or to work with purpose. It is not. But if we truly embrace the grace filled love of God that we claim as followers of Jesus, then do we need to pursue heaven? Is it not freely given as part of the grace we receive upon our confession of faith in Jesus?

Goal oriented, purpose driven faith is counter productive to a deeper spirituality. "Wait a minute, Pastor Al, what about books like Purpose Driven Ministry and Purpose Driven Life?" I believe these have value to us as we shape the way we live, and I am not suggesting that either goals or purpose are bad. Rather, I suggest that there must also be a time and place when those are set aside to further our spiritual growth - a place and time where we allow things to happen instead of striving to be in charge and to create events. If we go full throttle all the time, with our eyes fixed on the goal, then what do we do when the Spirit interrupts our plans and our purposeful path? Do we allow the Spirit to distract us so that we might encounter God in a real way, or do we begrudge the distraction from our own goals.

Do we stop and interact with the God who has overtaken us, or do we relegate his Spirit to some attic corner of our spiritual house in order to stay focused on our own goals, desires, and purposes?

As you read the gospel writers' accounts of Jesus it is difficult not to notice that Jesus goes away by himself from time to time. He goes to the quiet places to pray, we are told. And while none of these writers actually say it, it is not difficult to infer that the quiet places are where God overtakes him, where God speaks into the depths of his Spirit.

We have all heard the old saying, "Stop and smell the roses" or Lennon's admonition that "Life is what happens when you are busy making other plans." We learn from a very young age to set goals and fix priorities and to focus on achieving our goals. This is defined as success. But do we understand that faith suggests that we must also take time to stop and to find the secret, quiet place so that we allow God to overtake us?

Our modern fast paced world makes it easy to put on spiritual blinders so that we can stay focused on our own goals, objectives, and plans. Lucado's statement should haunt us. Do we allow the Holy Spirit to interrupt our plans and lead us to worship, at home, at school, at work, at the stop light on Main Street or waiting in the checkout lane at the big box store, so that we might see Jesus? Do we find a quiet place where God can overtake us and the Spirit can speak to us?

One of my daughters once asked, as I was turning out the lights to the sanctuary after the Sunday service, "Where does God go when we turn out the lights?" I think the question is a good one for us to reflect on. Does God go to sleep in the darkened sanctuary until the next worship session, or does God go with us into our lives? Do we relegate him to the dark corners until next week, or do we allow him to tap us on the shoulder from time to time so that we might truly worship God with our hearts and our lives?

I pray that we will allow God to overtake us and the Spirit to distract us as we strive to live our lives each day. I pray that when we turn out the lights in the sanctuary on Sunday morning that the Lord will accompany us into the world so that we let Jesus lead us to worship in a variety of ways, every day.