MEMORIAL DAY

 

I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust.  Psalm 91:2  (KJV)

After much cajoling, my brother Jack reluctantly allowed me to polish his boots.  His ROTC unit was having a major inspection the next day, and he wanted to look his best.  I was confident a girl could make his shoes shine as much as any guy, so I spent the evening brushing and rubbing and buffing until the boots looked almost new.  And it worked.  I was commended for my efforts.

Not long after that, America became engaged in a brutal war in Viet Nam, and the draft was re-instituted.  Jack joined early on, following the tradition of his uncles on both sides of the family during World War II.  As he tends to do with all his undertakings, Jack focused on being prepared for battle in a place that had only recently become part of our daily news.  He graduated from basic training with top honors, and when he finished OCS as the top graduate, my father took his first airplane ride to see his son receive the commanding general’s award.

Deployment soon followed.  Jack had trained to be a Special Forces soldier, so we knew he’d be living in harm’s way throughout his assignment.  That’s when our mother, Momo, told us about the soldiers from her church.  With the bombing of Pearl Harbor, men all over the country (and from her small community church) formed lines to join the military.  (Those were the days of high patriotism:  nations were allied to preserve freedom; women went to work to fill the vacuum here in industry; rationing was instituted; and people prayed.)  Just before the young men deployed, their pastor called them all forward.  The congregation gathered ‘round, and they all prayed the 91^st Psalm, the Soldier’s Psalm.  Every day during their absence in far-flung places around the world, the congregation prayed.  And every one of those boys returned.

The Sunday before Jack was to leave, our pastor called him forward, and the congregation prayed over him.  And our family prayed Psalm 91 for him every day:

He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High

shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.

I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust.

Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler,

and from the noisome pestilence.

He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust:

his truth shall be thy shield and buckler.

Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day;

Nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness;

nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday.

A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand;

but it shall not come nigh thee.

Only with thine eyes shalt thou behold and see the reward of the wicked.

Because thou hast made the Lord, which is my refuge,

even the most High, thy habitation;

There shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling.

For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.

They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.

Thou shalt tread upon the lion and adder:

the young lion and the dragon shalt thou trample under feet.

Because he hath set his love upon me, therefore will I deliver him:

I will set him on high, because he hath known my name.

He shall call upon me, and I will answer him: I will be with him in trouble;

I will deliver him, and honour him.

With long life will I satisfy him, and shew him my salvation.

This weekend I sent a long email to Jack that he shared with his buddies from Viet Nam days to thank him and them for their selfless service to our beloved country and to thank God for protecting and keeping them safe.  Jack continues to pray the 91^st Psalm for himself and his two boys who are now deployed.  God has blessed us with his mercy.

Father, your loving care is overwhelming.  We’ve all been through danger and difficulties but none like our military men and women.  Thank you for people who are willing to make the utmost sacrifice to keep us free, and keep them in your love .  God bless America.  In Jesus’ name.  AMEN.

GOD’S AMAZING LOVE

 

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end.  Lamentations 3:22  (NRS)

 

Reading about Rahab in the book of Joshua this morning, I am again amazed at God’s mercy.  Rahab was a prostitute whose house was built into the wall of Jericho, that city famous for its walls that came tumbling down.  Spies had been sent to reconnoiter the city prior to an attack by the Israelites.   Of all the houses they could have visited, God led them to Rahab’s.  She welcomed them and hid them from her own townspeople because she knew God was with the Israelites.  In return she and all her family were spared and assimilated into the conquering Israelite nation.  Not only that, but she eventually married a man from the tribe of Judah and became the great grandmother of beloved King David.

 

And then there were Abraham and Isaac (who both had a tendency to tell untruths in tight spots), prideful Joseph, cowardly Gideon, and fearful disciples.  Peter denied his best Friend three times and came back to be a leader and founder of the Christian Church.  God’s love and forgiveness transformed his flawed children when they turned to him.

 

One of the great Father-Love stories in the Bible is that of the Prodigal Son who brought pain, grief, humiliation, and loss to his family.  When all the community (and especially his own brother) would ostracize him, his loving father has apparently been waiting for a sign of his return.  When he finally sees him trudging down that familiar path, he doesn’t wait, bitterly expecting the boy to come groveling.  Instead, he runs to welcome him home.  The boy’s betrayal and repentance are understood by his father’s love with celebration for his return.

 

Again, we read about the shepherd who has a large flock of sheep and leaves them when he discovers that one is lost.  He is willing to give his life for that one lost sheep, and he’s overjoyed when the lost is found.  He’s so happy, he puts him on his shoulders and carries him all the way home. What profound love.

 

I suspect we’ve all been unfaithful or disobedient or thoughtless or rebellious at one time or another, and yet, while everyone else looks at our bad (sinful) behavior, God sees our hearts (I Sam. 16:7).  He sees our desire to please and follow him even as our human nature pulls us in other directions.  And he rescues us and gives us grace to repent and be changed.  Talk about love…

 

Father, your love has been abounding.  Cause us to accept all you have done for and in us through Jesus Christ and not look back.  May our identity increasingly be in you and your glorious plan for us that you may be honored.  In Jesus’ name.  AMEN.

THE NEXT FAITHFUL STEP

 

…for we walk by faith, not by sight.  II Corinthians 5:7  (ESV)

 

Allie and I were talking about the peaks and valleys of our spiritual journeys and how we are sometimes baffled about what we should do next.  It seems that not all pathways are sunshine and light but that darkness and shadow intrude when we least expect them.  And then what do we do?

 

A dear saint described her mundane life caring for her elderly mother who had Alzheimer’s.  In listening, one would think she was living in an extension of heaven rather than the confined reality she had lovingly embraced.  For several years she tended to the needs of her childlike mother, leaving the house only to do grocery shopping.  And yet, she, too grappled at the end with uncertainty about the next steps.

 

Allie said she has learned to, by faith, take the next faithful step.  Sometimes that may not be anything inspirational.  It may be as simple as running an errand or doing a chore, but it is part of the journey, and the very act of going opens into discernment and direction and joy.  For the sainted daughter, it was simply to put her trust in God to work through her mother’s physician when the time of uncertainty arose.  God affirmed her with his peace.

 

For me, the next faithful steps are often actions that have taken me out of myself to see God’s face more clearly instead of my own confusion or self-orientation.  Sometimes we make the Christian Way too difficult when we should just be moving on doing what we know to do and trusting God to do what he’s promised to do.

 

Father, thank you that you’re in charge, and we’re not.  Help us when we’re unclear about what we should be doing.  Cause us to move out knowing that you will be with us, and that you’ve promised to lead and guide us in the way you’d have us go.  In Jesus’ name.  AMEN.

RECONCILIATION

Therefore if you are presenting your offering at the altar, and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your offering there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother, and then come and present your offering. Matthew 5:23, 24

Walking with Jesus is not for sissies. Nor is it for narcissists. Jesus calls us to crucifixion and requires that we take his demands seriously. In this Matthew passage he asks us to immediately stop our worship of him if there’s an issue with someone else. We have to be the ones taking the initiative to make peace in a circumstance in which we possibly had no control. It really seems unfair.

I once heard a preacher say that God tasks the person who has the most faith with the responsibility of being the peacemaker. Simply put, God is the one who looks into our hearts and instantly recognizes whether or not Jesus is Lord there. He recalls how malleable we have been in his hands and how amenable we are to trusting his ways. And then he calls us to dealing with unfairness, with misinterpretation, and even with wrongs that we may have unknowingly provoked.

God looks in our hearts and knows if we are willing to obey without counting the cost in humiliation or misunderstanding. He knows that taking up the cross and dying to the flesh can only be done by one who walks with him and who knows how to access his measureless grace. And God requires that sort of sacrifice from the one who wants to grow in him.

My mom once told me of a quarrel that she’d had with my dad. Apparently, they were in the car going somewhere – she couldn’t recall where they were going or what the disagreement involved, but she remembered the tension. She said she was prompted to reach over and give my dad a mint, but she resisted. Again, the prompting came, and again she resisted. Finally, she took a gulp of grace and reached across the seat to offer the mint. The tension was broken; the atmosphere was changed. But she had to make the first move.

Father, help us to trust you to give us what we need in our daily relationships with those around us. Give us grace to be peacemakers even when we think we are without fault. Remind us that you are constantly reaching out to us to draw us to yourself, even when we least deserve it. In Jesus’ name. AMEN.

HELLO, GOLI

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)
I was sitting in my living room with my mom and pastor. We were completing the arrangements for my husband’s memorial service. I’d selected Scripture passages, hymns, and friends to read. There was one final thing that was most significant to me.

“I want my friend Debbie who’s chair of the University music department to sing I Know That My Redeemer Liveth from Messiah. It’s a beautiful statement of faith, and I know Peter would have liked it,” I told Momo and my pastor. With that settled, my pastor prepared to leave.

And then Helen came in. “Marthe, the bishop has a conflict for our upcoming trip to Uganda, and he’d like to know if you can go?”

Without pausing for breath, Momo said, “She can go.” Just like that. Without asking me or without thinking twice. And that’s how I made my first diocesan mission trip.

Goli, our mission base, is a beautiful little village stuck off in a remote corner of northwestern Uganda. One does not accidentally arrive in Goli. It is too far off the beaten track. Standing on Prayer Mountain and looking north, the mountains of Sudan are visible. Looking west, the jungles of Congo are within a few short miles. The Nile is not far from Goli and offered protection from the Lord’s Resistance Army in past years.

On that first visit I noticed that electricity hadn’t yet reached this remote outpost nor had indoor plumbing. Most of the floors were dirt, and the houses had beautifully thatched roofs. Community buildings were constructed of cinder block with concrete floors. Although the people of Goli lived far below the international standard of poverty, they were some of the richest people I had ever met.

Our small team of six traveled up and down the Nebbi Diocese for three weeks over red dirt roads pitted with holes large enough to swallow small animals or do serious damage to vehicles. We saw school children in lively memory verse contests, spoke at countless village churches, conducted Bible studies, visited women’s groups, met local missionaries, and made friends.

The Sunday before we left was Easter. It was not lost on me that my first Easter without Peter found me on the mission field among scores of new friends who loved Jesus as much as we did. After the first service at the village “cathedral” the Korean missionary, Sister Kim, invited us to brunch at her house. We stood in a circle, holding hands for the blessing. As soon as we finished, Sister Kim reached over to a shelf and pushed the button on a battery-powered tape recorder. Out of the small plastic machine rolled the words, “I know that my redeemer liveth…”

Coincidence? British composition on a recorder played by a Korean missionary in a modest unelectrified home for American missioners in a tiny African village. Hardly a coincidence. Instantly, I knew God had a plan for me, to give me, a newly minted widow, a future and a hope. What the future held, I had no idea, but I knew God was already there opening the door. Peter’s death was not the end of my life. One era had ended; a new one through Christ had begun.

Hello, Goli.

Sweet Lord, you do walk with us through the valley of the shadow to take us through to the other side. And I know that your plans are beyond anything we can think of or imagine. THANK YOU. AMEN.

LITTLE THINGS

For who hath despised the day of small things? Zechariah 4:10 (KJV)

Every morning at the same time, Frances and Edward (my mismatched dogs) and I leave our house through the wooden gate at the drive. We cross the road and head for the nearby nature preserve—but that’s not the goal of our walk. We make a right onto Crescent. The traffic is still light, and the sun hasn’t yet peeped over the trees. Soon we approach a tall white Frank Lloyd Wright-ish home that’s set in the woods, and we pause so the puppies can have a little drink at the pond—but that’s not the goal of our walk. Further on, I see the fairy-like playscape that a young family has created for their children after pulling down a century-old three-story home—but that’s not the goal of our walk.

We slow our pace as we get closer to the path that crosses the preserve, and we walk back and forth. It will not be long now. And within minutes I hear a vehicle coming around the curve, slowing as it approaches. This is what I’ve been waiting for.

My son and two small grandchildren take this route to school every day, and if I leave at a certain time, our paths intersect. The windows of the car roll down, and I see three sets of hands waving, two very small and one larger. Greetings and smiles are exchanged. And then we part. It’s only a moment of time. It’s just a small thing. But it’s intentional sharing and reinforcing love.

How little effort it takes for lives to be touched with God’s love. Being present. Offering a smile. Giving a hug. Pouring out and giving away the joy he pours into us with abandon. Little things that bring great joy.

Father of all creation, you shower us with so many precious little things that brighten each day.  We all have something to give.  Help us, who have so freely received from you, freely give. In Jesus’ name. AMEN.

HALLELUJAH

Then I heard what sounded like a great multitude, like the roar of rushing waters and like loud peals of thunder, shouting: “Hallelujah! For our Lord God Almighty reigns…” Revelation 19:6

I love all the symbols of Christmas – the Baby around whom our season revolves; the lights pointing to the Light of the world; the gifts reminding us of the Wise Men who followed the star and found the Savior; the visitors who came from every strata, age group, and nation; and the music. I especially love the music. What other season evokes such glorious expressions of wonder, love, and majesty?

Years ago, our choir studied the setting of Messiah and the astonishing manner in which Handel was Spirit-anointed to compose the masterpiece in just twenty-four days. His powerful oratorio sweeps broadly from prophecy in the Old Testament through the birth of Christ and into worship of him as King in eternity. The Hallelujah Chorus had such an impact on our family that we couldn’t leave it at church.

With the approach of Christmas, we ordered copies of Hallelujah for each family member. My brother sang bass; my husband sang tenor; Momo sang alto; sister-in-law Linda and I sang soprano; while my dad and the children wandered around all the parts. This continued for years, and we still sing smidgens of Hallelujah when we gather.

In my imagination I see this small family choir as a preview of what’s to come when people of all skills levels, all ages, all experiences gather in eternity to praise with joy and wonder that King of Kings and Lord of Lords. HALLELUJAH.

Father, thank you for all the ways you’ve given us to remember and experience the birth of your precious Son. Help us to open our hearts to receive him and may our song continue to bring him praise throughout the year and ages to come. AMEN.

THE ANNUAL PAGEANT

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. John 1:14 (NIV)

Early Christmas carols were sung in Latin, and since most of the people didn’t understand Latin, the practice fell out of favor after a few hundred years. (Imagine singing words you don’t understand at the church service.) But then St. Francis came along and introduced the Nativity Play in the Thirteenth Century along with songs that were sung in the language of the people. This was the beginning of the annual Christmas pageant.

Our family initiated a Nativity pageant when my children were small. Out came blankets for cloaks, scarves for headpieces, bathrobes for Joseph and the Wise Men, and my dad fashioned a manger from his shop scraps.  We made sets from packing boxes.  Momo played the piano as the cast sang and performed the Christmas story for the little ones.

The children have grown older and now have children of their own. We’ve done adaptations of Amahl and the Night Visitors, improvised versions of the Nativity story, revised traditional tales, and this year we will have an original story based on the characters’ preferences. (When five-year-old Caroline said she wanted to be a lamb in October, we knew this was important.) William has decided he will be a dog. The two teen-aged cousins, Mckenzie and Kassidee, have graciously accepted roles as the Two Wise Men. (The Third Wise Man had an undisclosed ailment which kept him from joining them.) Sam (now a young adult) is always the moving/flexible player. This year he will be a shepherd.

Putting together a skit with designated/determined characters is a little like cooking with the ingredients you have on hand. My little ones are set on being a lamb and a dog; the other three are fitting in. We have begun rehearsals with a story line that varies from practice to practice. Improvisation has been taken to a new level.

The whole point of this family tradition, like Francis’ ministry, is to make the story real, to allow the children to be part of the story and to connect with the Baby and his holy family. They are not just observers; they are the story. They experience a sense of Mary’s awe when Gabriel visits; of the holy couple’s rejection in Bethlehem; of the wonder of the shepherds (and lambs and dogs); and of the quest of the Wise Men. And as they participate, the Word becomes Flesh and lives with and in them.

Father, thank you for all the creative ways you’ve given us to share your story in word, in deed, and through our lives. Especially this season, help us to show Jesus to those we love best. AMEN.