Today is Christmas Eve. The church I serve will celebrate tonight at 7 and 11 p.m., with the first celebration featuring songs led by children and the second celebration culminating in the beautiful lighting of candles at midnight.
For Christians, Christmas Eve represents the end of Advent, a season of longing for the birth of Jesus. It's a time during which Christians anticipate and wait.
Waiting for something important is difficult, isn't it? Test results. College admission. Job application. Waiting for something important is difficult.
I was reminded of the difficulty of waiting when my nephew was born. At my sister-in-law's regular visit that week her doctor discovered that her baby did not grow since the previous visit. After consulting with colleagues and not determining what the problem was, the doctors felt it best to get that little guy out. Delena was admitted to the hospital on a Wednesday night so that she could be observed and induced into labor the following morning.
There were tests, some waiting and then the doctor met with my brother and sister-in-law to advise doing a C-section immediately. The baby was showing signs of distress. The anticipation increased greatly.
The C-section was scheduled for 11 p.m., so I called a friend who worked at that hospital to find out the best "back door" place to see my nephew as soon as possible after delivery. She gave me stellar advice and I went to stake out my spot and wait. 11 came and went, as did 11:15 and 11:25.
While waiting, I realized that there was a set of doors behind the doors I could see. The creakiness of these hidden doors let me know somebody was coming. Around 11:30, I heard the creak. I quickly grabbed my camera and turned it on. The doors opened and out came ... not my brother, but a different new father, child and nurse.
The nurse asked the name of the family for whom I was waiting and then told me that "our" C-section was rescheduled but she didn't know why. Why would it be rescheduled? Until when? How can I find out? My anticipation increased drastically. I wanted answers, but I didn't want to leave my spot; I also didn't know where to go.
After some more waiting, my brother came from a different direction to confirm that the C-section was moved to midnight because they had a more urgent C-section. More waiting.
Midnight came and went, as did 12:10, 12:15, 12:20, 12:25. The first set of creaky doors opened. I turned on my camera. The second set never opened. I checked my watch. The first set of creaky doors opened again. I turned on my camera. The second set never moved. I checked my watch.
A nurse walked by. I offered to buy some WD-40 for the creaky doors. She wasn't amused.
I thought my watch quit, it was moving so slowly. 12:30, 12:35, 12:38, 12:40, 12:42, 12:43, 12:45. I waited. I anticipated.
If my watch moved any slower, it would have been going in reverse. I never knew a C-section to take so long. What was going on in there?
I longed to see my sister-in-law. I longed to see my brother. I was tired of waiting. I was eager to know something. Anything: bad news, good news, anything. I wanted to know something.
The creaky hidden doors opened. I grabbed my camera. The second set of doors never moved. I considered taking the doors off their hinges. 12:50, 1:00, 1:05, 1:10. I waited. I anticipated.
There were no chairs in the hallway, but I did not want to sit on the floor. I did not want to sit at all. I wanted to be on my feet, camera in hand, ready. I wanted to be ready to take pictures if the news was happy. I wanted to be ready to give hugs and support if the news was not. My back ached and my feet hurt, but I would not sit; I wanted to be ready. 1:11, 1:12, 1:13, 1:14 AM. I waited. I anticipated.
The first set of doors creaked. I grabbed my camera. I was tired, but I was ready. Let this not be yet another false alarm. Let this not be yet another time the outer doors defiantly stood still, mocking my eagerness, disrespecting my anticipation.
Was the sound growing stronger? Yes, I think it was. Did the doors start to move? Yes, they did. Out came my nephew, all five pounds and some change, held by his relieved and happy dad.
There was much relief! There was much rejoicing! A child was born.
Today is Christmas Eve. Christians stand waiting for the Christ-child with great anticipation. For long we have waited; for long we have anticipated.
Friends, the doors are beginning to creak. Friends, the time is now.
Merry Christmas!
Wilson pastors First Christian Church, 118 W. Washington St., blogs at www.nathandaywilson.blogspot.com and reads e-mail sent to revnathan@fccshelby.org.
Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts
Friday, December 24, 2010
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Make a Difference
Today is the easiest time to make a difference
FAITH MATTERS
By Nathan Day Wilson
Columnist
Recently my daughter reminded me of a phrase I used in a sermon a few years ago:”Four things you cannot recover in life: the stone after it is thrown; the word after it is said; the occasion after it is missed; the time after it is gone.”
I don’t know who wrote or spoke that idea originally. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t me. And by this point, it’s more likely paraphrase than quote.
I like it, though, partly because it can have many different life applications. For instance, the saying reminds me that we should make the most of our fragile lives.
We all know that life is fragile. No matter how careful we are, how closely we watch what we eat, how faithfully we exercise or how regularly we use our seat belts, life is still fragile. Loved ones die. Jobs end. Illnesses strike. Marriages dissolve. Wars kill.
A well-known teacher reminded his followers that life is fragile when he said, “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal.”
I’m glad Jesus, with those words from Matthew 6, didn’t only remind us that life is fragile. I’m glad he suggests that we have opportunities to use our ephemeral lives for something that will endure, something that will make a difference.
Isn’t that what we want? No one really expects to live forever, no matter how careful we are, but we want our lives to matter.
We can’t stand the thought that we are just taking up space on the planet, and we cannot even settle for a quiet comfortable life. We want our lives to count and to have impact. We want to have done a good job with life. We want to make a difference.
There’s one more line in that passage above from Matthew 6. In it, Jesus says, “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”
In other words, think about what you are doing with your money. Money indicates how we invest our hearts, and thus how we choose to make a difference with our lives.
Want to know how you can tell where your heart is? Look at the ledger of your checkbook or the statement of your credit cards. They will tell you where your treasure is going and thus how you are investing your heart.
Want to know the values of a family, or a business, or a religious organization, or a country? Don’t ask what it values, just look at where it spends its money. Those are the actual values.
None of us can say, “Look, such and such has a big piece of my heart, but my money has to go other things right now. The future is uncertain. I had better hang onto as much as possible.”
Don’t you see? There is never going to be an easy time to make a difference. There is today.
Wilson pastors First Christian Church, 118 W. Washington St., blogs at www.nathandaywilson.blogspot.com and reads e-mail sent to revnathan@fccshelby.org.
FAITH MATTERS
By Nathan Day Wilson
Columnist
Recently my daughter reminded me of a phrase I used in a sermon a few years ago:”Four things you cannot recover in life: the stone after it is thrown; the word after it is said; the occasion after it is missed; the time after it is gone.”
I don’t know who wrote or spoke that idea originally. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t me. And by this point, it’s more likely paraphrase than quote.
I like it, though, partly because it can have many different life applications. For instance, the saying reminds me that we should make the most of our fragile lives.
We all know that life is fragile. No matter how careful we are, how closely we watch what we eat, how faithfully we exercise or how regularly we use our seat belts, life is still fragile. Loved ones die. Jobs end. Illnesses strike. Marriages dissolve. Wars kill.
A well-known teacher reminded his followers that life is fragile when he said, “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal.”
I’m glad Jesus, with those words from Matthew 6, didn’t only remind us that life is fragile. I’m glad he suggests that we have opportunities to use our ephemeral lives for something that will endure, something that will make a difference.
Isn’t that what we want? No one really expects to live forever, no matter how careful we are, but we want our lives to matter.
We can’t stand the thought that we are just taking up space on the planet, and we cannot even settle for a quiet comfortable life. We want our lives to count and to have impact. We want to have done a good job with life. We want to make a difference.
There’s one more line in that passage above from Matthew 6. In it, Jesus says, “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”
In other words, think about what you are doing with your money. Money indicates how we invest our hearts, and thus how we choose to make a difference with our lives.
Want to know how you can tell where your heart is? Look at the ledger of your checkbook or the statement of your credit cards. They will tell you where your treasure is going and thus how you are investing your heart.
Want to know the values of a family, or a business, or a religious organization, or a country? Don’t ask what it values, just look at where it spends its money. Those are the actual values.
None of us can say, “Look, such and such has a big piece of my heart, but my money has to go other things right now. The future is uncertain. I had better hang onto as much as possible.”
Don’t you see? There is never going to be an easy time to make a difference. There is today.
Wilson pastors First Christian Church, 118 W. Washington St., blogs at www.nathandaywilson.blogspot.com and reads e-mail sent to revnathan@fccshelby.org.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Custom made or cookie cutter religion
My wife Janice likes to bake, which is good since I like to eat what she bakes! It’s one place where our universe aligns and everything works out peachy.
Cookies are her specialty. Her cookies may be tried and true, such as chocolate chip or my favorite monster cookie, or they may be new and experimental. Her cookies may be round and chewy, or they may be flat and crisp. They may be loaded with chocolate, or sans chocolate but chock full of nuts and berries.
When our daughters were younger, Janice would sometimes bake with them using cookie cutters. Sometimes the molds were metal, sometimes they were plastic; their job was always the same: mold the cookie dough into identical shapes so that the cookies would look the same.
If you promise to keep a secret, I’ll tell you that I liked the Christmas tree shapes the best, though the Halloween pumpkins were swell too. Yes, I said “swell.”
There are definite good reasons for using cookie cutters. First of all, they are convenient. Baking cookies with a preformed shape is much more convenient, much easier than baking cookies that are shaped by hand.
Cookie cutters are also good because – at least in theory – the end result of using cookie cutters is a batch of cookies that looks the same.
And finally, cookie cutters help with quantity. You can produce a lot more cookies in a shorter amount of time when you are just stamping them out than when you take the time with each and every cookie.
But there are downsides too. Cookies made with cookie cutters are not nearly as creative as ones that are handmade. They don’t tell you as much about the personality of their baker. The shape imposed may not fit the cookie dough very well either: after all, whoever heard of a Christmas tree with a big raisin sticking out of it!
Religious communities are similar. Some are like cookie cutters, trying hard to stamp believers all into the same mold. Their approach to worship and education and service is more of “one size fits all” approach, rather than a customized, open approach.
Sometimes faith communities of this sort demand conformity of thought and action. At their worst, they shout, “My way is the only way!” and demean those who disagree.
Other religious communities – churches, synagogues and mosques – realize that faith is handmade. Sure there are absolutes, and they should be known. But there is much more that God shares with us in ways appropriate to each of us. There’s much more individual shaping that God does in our lives so that we complement, not conform to, each other.
It takes time and care to shape a faith of this type. You have to get your hands messy to make this kind of cookie.
How can you tell one type from the other? Listen to the language used. Does it encourage deeper thought, more genuine reflection and authentic engagement? If so, it is more of the handmade faith variety.
Or is the language closed? Does it duck the hard questions? Is there a pretend attitude that the world is of two shades with simple choices, rather than multicolored and complex? If so, then you have yourself a cookie cutter approach.
So now you are wondering which type is better? In my opinion, it is the handmade, open ended, willing to ask difficult questions and trust more in God’s mysterious grace than our definite understanding type. But I’ll say again that both types of religious communities have their positives.
The main thing is for you to consider which one you prefer – custom made or cookie cut.
Cookies are her specialty. Her cookies may be tried and true, such as chocolate chip or my favorite monster cookie, or they may be new and experimental. Her cookies may be round and chewy, or they may be flat and crisp. They may be loaded with chocolate, or sans chocolate but chock full of nuts and berries.
When our daughters were younger, Janice would sometimes bake with them using cookie cutters. Sometimes the molds were metal, sometimes they were plastic; their job was always the same: mold the cookie dough into identical shapes so that the cookies would look the same.
If you promise to keep a secret, I’ll tell you that I liked the Christmas tree shapes the best, though the Halloween pumpkins were swell too. Yes, I said “swell.”
There are definite good reasons for using cookie cutters. First of all, they are convenient. Baking cookies with a preformed shape is much more convenient, much easier than baking cookies that are shaped by hand.
Cookie cutters are also good because – at least in theory – the end result of using cookie cutters is a batch of cookies that looks the same.
And finally, cookie cutters help with quantity. You can produce a lot more cookies in a shorter amount of time when you are just stamping them out than when you take the time with each and every cookie.
But there are downsides too. Cookies made with cookie cutters are not nearly as creative as ones that are handmade. They don’t tell you as much about the personality of their baker. The shape imposed may not fit the cookie dough very well either: after all, whoever heard of a Christmas tree with a big raisin sticking out of it!
Religious communities are similar. Some are like cookie cutters, trying hard to stamp believers all into the same mold. Their approach to worship and education and service is more of “one size fits all” approach, rather than a customized, open approach.
Sometimes faith communities of this sort demand conformity of thought and action. At their worst, they shout, “My way is the only way!” and demean those who disagree.
Other religious communities – churches, synagogues and mosques – realize that faith is handmade. Sure there are absolutes, and they should be known. But there is much more that God shares with us in ways appropriate to each of us. There’s much more individual shaping that God does in our lives so that we complement, not conform to, each other.
It takes time and care to shape a faith of this type. You have to get your hands messy to make this kind of cookie.
How can you tell one type from the other? Listen to the language used. Does it encourage deeper thought, more genuine reflection and authentic engagement? If so, it is more of the handmade faith variety.
Or is the language closed? Does it duck the hard questions? Is there a pretend attitude that the world is of two shades with simple choices, rather than multicolored and complex? If so, then you have yourself a cookie cutter approach.
So now you are wondering which type is better? In my opinion, it is the handmade, open ended, willing to ask difficult questions and trust more in God’s mysterious grace than our definite understanding type. But I’ll say again that both types of religious communities have their positives.
The main thing is for you to consider which one you prefer – custom made or cookie cut.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Words That Create Community
This is from Henri Nouwen's Bread for the Journey and is titled "Words That Create Community."
The word is always a word for others. Words need to be heard. When we give words to what we are living, these words need to be received and responded to. A speaker needs a listener. A writer needs a reader.
When the flesh - the lived human experience - becomes word, community can develop. When we say, "Let me tell you what we saw. Come and listen to what we did. Sit down and let me explain to you what happened to us. Wait until you hear whom we met," we call people together and make our lives into lives for others. The word brings us together and calls us into community. When the flesh becomes word, our bodies become part of a body of people.
The word is always a word for others. Words need to be heard. When we give words to what we are living, these words need to be received and responded to. A speaker needs a listener. A writer needs a reader.
When the flesh - the lived human experience - becomes word, community can develop. When we say, "Let me tell you what we saw. Come and listen to what we did. Sit down and let me explain to you what happened to us. Wait until you hear whom we met," we call people together and make our lives into lives for others. The word brings us together and calls us into community. When the flesh becomes word, our bodies become part of a body of people.
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