Christmas Cards All Year Round

The Christmas Cards have begun to arrive and there are so many beautiful ones. Funny ones, retro ones, quirky ones, and ones with photos I haven't seen since their last Christmas card. I love getting reconnected this time of year. As a kid, when cards arrived, we hung them around the door frame to enjoy the pictures. But when it comes time to taking these Christmas Cards down, along with the tree and other decorations, it never feels right to just toss them, does it?

I heard of a great solution to this dillema. Someone told me that they keep the Christmas Cards "out" all year round. They display them at Christmas and then when the season is over, they place them in a bowl (or a basket or something) on their kitchen table. Each morning, for the rest of the year, this bowl of Christmas Cards becomes the centerpiece of their morning devotions. They randomly pull out a card, read the message, and pray for that particular family.

I thought that was the coolest idea I have heard of - and just wanted to share it with you.

Note: i can't remember who told me about this, so if it is you - please share more about how this tradition got started. I love it and may have to start it at my house! Also, the photo is from a designer named Chris Tyre. check out Chris Tyre's creativity.

What Business are we in?

Olivet will hold our annual Charge Conference on November 7 which is kind of like a church business meeting.. which had me wondering about a question posed by author Kirk Hadoway, who wrote, Behold, I Do a New Thing, Transforming Communities of Faith. He suggests that churches should ask themselves, “What business are we in?”
Unfortunately, the term “business” brings to mind an exchange of money for goods or services, which doesn’t fit the nature of the church. But if we widen our understanding of business as more than an economic system, we might see our business as discipleship, mission or ministry to the community.
As your pastor, when I ponder what kind of business Olivet Church is in, my hope is that Olivet Church is in a business of grace. We are in the business of offering God’s free grace to all. We don’t exist for ourselves – we exist for others.
This stands in contrast to the world which is “in the business” of celebrating the self and the success of rising to the top. Popular reality television shows are in the business of placing conflict on center stage. But the church is in the business of celebrating the One who emptied himself in peace and humility.
A member of Olivet appreciatively remarked on how Olivet is a place of grace. He said, it was the “one place in my life where all the other stuff (job success, family success, keeping up with the Jones’) doesn’t matter.” To be in the business of grace means loving people where they are.
A business of grace doesn’t take pride in itself because the work of the church is about glorifying Christ.
We work together in ministry in order to be the Body of Christ for others. Not to make a name for ourselves. In this sense, a church is very different from any other business. To be a business of grace means that, at the center of all we do is not personal ego… but the Living Christ glorified. This last year, we met some challenges, conflicts and times of tough problem-solving. What brought us through these moments was the humility that our work is not our own. Grace met us in those times and supplied us with creative solutions and new avenues.
Letting go of the trappings of ego and surrendering to the movement of God who continually makes all things new is the challenge of being committed Christians. Whenever we forget that Olivet’s work is about relying on God’s grace, we get caught up in snares.
Grace is what “equips the called” which is opposite of what we usually assume, namely that grace “calls the equipped.” Ordinary folk working together in the name of Christ is what transforms lives and communities.
This last year, I witnessed persons trust the grace of God as they step forward to lend a hand, start a new ministry, join a small group or further their education. I saw God’s grace at work, when we collaborated with St. Paul’s, Eastern and St. Johns and other area churches in putting together the Youth Worship Nights and the outdoor drama of The Passion. Every venture was a step out of our comfort zone, with a certain trust that God would strengthen us.
In November, area churches will partner in ministry to transform the lives of persons in our county. The second week of November, we are participating in the Safe Nights program at Middleham Chapel. On Nov. 15th at 5pm, Olivet and Solomons UMC are co-sponsoring a Christmas Concert by the Community Chorus which raises funds and awareness for Hospice. Also for Hospice, I encourage you to attend the Festival of the Trees on Saturday, November 28 at Huntingtown High School to see all the trees including the one that Olivet has crafted featuring handmade ornaments. (see page 2)
At Olivet, my hope is that we continue to be in the business of grace – both for personal transformation and the transformation of our world. At the end of our worship services, we receive the benediction of grace to remind us that as we leave, we are not alone. We go in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit and we are sent out to a world that challenges us to model Jesus’ love and service to neighbors, family or coworkers.
Yet, as we scatter off into our daily lives, we never face it alone. We have each other and we have God’s grace to meet every moment

Gone Fishin'

Our family has taken up fishing. It began when Doug bought a pole. Then, as a Mother’s Day gift, he gave me a pole. Of course, this meant our daughter wanted to fish like mommy and daddy.. So we bought her a pink Barbie fishing pole and set out to fish on the dock near our house where the charter boats come and go.

At first, we got a bit of attention having a four year old casting out her Barbie pole. Smiles from the charter boat passengers seemed to say “Oh, how cute, how innocent, and how uh… there ain’t no way she’s gonna a thing with that pole.”

One neighbor walked over and told me that none of us should expect to catch a fish with the using a bobbin and a single hook. You need to have weights in order to go deep – and the bobbin prevents the hook from reaching the big fish.

Actually, I had heard this advice when I purchased the bobbins at the tackle shop. The cashier didn’t even want to even sell them to me. “You don’t need those,” she said, point blank.
“I know I don’t need them, but I grew up fishing with red and white bobbins, in a pond catching bluegill. Since this is the way I know – I’m gonna use a bobbin.”

Then I added, “Oh and I need more worms, too.”

She cried out, “More worms?!. YOU JUST BOUGHT SOME AN HOUR AGO!”

Evidently, I went through too many worms too quickly. The cashier explained that I could cut the worms and use less worm per hook. But when your toddler finds sport in tossing worms into the water, they still don’t last long. Boy, I was doing everything wrong.

Nevertheless, last week, Doug and Julianna caught a fish. A huge fish. A 20 inch Rockfish with a pole that everyone determined couldn’t catch a thing.

In the ninth chapter of Mark, the disciples are quick to plow over each other deciding who is the greatest. From the beginning of the church, it has been a struggle for believers to see each other the way that Jesus sees us – as precious in his sight. There is a part of our human condition that wants to draw lines around who is “in” and who is “out.” The red words of Jesus offer a corrective, pointing out that no one is greater than another and everyone who does ministry in Jesus name is blessed.

When we see someone doing something differently, whether it is fishing, or ministry, may we remember Jesus’ words and withhold our judgment. Jesus, by his death and resurrection, imparts to us the grace to regard each other as precious and share a life together based on his love. Thanks be to God for the grace of Jesus Christ!

Let the Son Shine In

Every morning, without fail, I go down stairs to the kitchen and find a pot of coffee waiting for me. My husband makes it for me before he leaves for work. There is nothing nicer than waking up to coffee already made. I count it as the first blessing of the day. What happens next, however, not many people know. It is a bit embarrassing to admit to – but before reaching for the morning coffee, I open the cabinet, pull down a coffee cup and peer inside it see if it is clean. That would not be shameful in and of itself, but if you knew that I tried 3 or 4 cups before I come across one that is clean enough to drink from.. uh, that is disgusting.

How do I know this? Because In my half asleep state I have in fact poured coffee into such cups and been drinking from them only to notice parts of a potato peel floating happily in my drink.

Sooo – ok – no one is begging to come to my house for dinner, now huh?

Jesus encountered a group of people whose religious piety was as effective as my dishwasher, both producing lives that were spotless on the outside, but the inside? The part that really matters? It’s caked with grime.

His message is that faith is not a matter of keeping external rules, without regard for what's inside you. You must pay attention to the condition of your heart! Our heart is where our problems begin.

Now, if we took daily inventory of all that swirls within our minds and hearts – we might intentionally stop each day, and ask God to scrub us clean. We all have sin within us, all of us – it’s nothing God doesn’t know about. But to turn to God for the removal of sin is the first step on a path that is traditionally called the journey of inward holiness.
This cleaning up may not always feel GOOD – those scrubbing bubbles may feel like brillo pads at times. But holiness is a process of being made aware of our shortcomings, our blind spots, our areas of life that are still growing. Holiness is God’s act of giving us grace and forgiveness while at the same time calling us to greater depths of faithfulness.. This is what the apostle calls “his spirit witnessing to our spirit”
When the God who is holy and dwells in us,
we - who are made in his image, but fallen short of his glory, surrender to his Divine love. Not for our own glory, but so that he will be the source of our every moment, and shine through us.
But we must first “let the son shine in.”

Signs of Our Faith

This week, I was sitting in a restaurant when I noticed the manager walking through the seating area discussing with one of his associates about the arrival of the New Fall Banners. They walked around and he pointed out where the new banners would hang. He also pointed to places where the summer banners currently hung; near the doors, above the booths, etc. The associate was having a difficult time; it seemed, of understanding what the manager was trying to do. I watched as the manager described how some of the current banners were ineffective and needed to be moved. He also showed where some empty walls would be better placement for the signs.

“If someone is sitting here, they can’t see that sign because it is behind the buffet counter. We need to move that one. And when people are standing in line over here, they should be able to look up and see it in plain sight, not a blank wall.”

Eventually, he understood and they developed a plan for where the new banners would hang.

The discussion got me thinking about how we can benefit from seasonal re-examination of our lives, especially when it comes to how we present ourselves as people of faith. Although their conversation was about marketing a restaurant, each of us communicates a message to others. Our “banner” is how we live. Do our actions reflect that we are followers of Christ? Can our faith be seen from a variety of angles? Or is it hidden so that only those who get close can see?

In Mark 7, Jesus warns us that we should not be like the hypocrites who present themselves as faithful believers in lip-service only. A hypocritical restaurant would be one where banners hung with pictures of mouthwatering items, but none of those items are on the menu. Jesus knew people who were like this - who presented themselves as godly, holy, loving, but then treated others with disdain. He described them as “dirty dishes” - like a cup that is clean on the outside, but filthy on the inside. (These types of cups come out of my dishwasher all the time. I never drink from them!)

Our outward expression of our faith (or banner, so to speak) is only as reliable and true as the inward experience of God’s love in our hearts. We can’t expect that a sign hung around the neck reading “I’m patient” will guarantee that nobody will get on that persons nerve. The virtues of following Christ, such as patience, kindness, love, charity, these arise from hearts that know the love of Christ.

Faithfulness in heart and action is a lifelong balance and ongoing journey. Olivet Church has many opportunities for you can learn, study, ponder and pray alongside other companions on this quest. The Christian walk is never done solo. Instead, in the fellowship of believers, our lives are transformed by grace and the meaning of our lives is revealed moment by moment.

Through a Glass Dimly

Last week, I was visiting my parents with the main goal to meet with the doctors to inquire of my mother’s health. The big question for all of us was, after 7 months of treatment, is she better? Is she healed?
The scripture readings at Olivet Church over the last several weeks have been of the miraculous healings by Jesus. In the gospel, it seemed like where ever sick people were found, if they met Jesus of Nazareth their illness was healed and their lives were forever changed. It is no wonder, then, as I sat in the office and the doctor gave us the news that her first treatment incomplete and that more treatment is needed - my mind went to Mark 8 – the two-part healing of the blind man.
In Mark 8, the man is healed gradually with the medicinal techniques of Jesus day. In that single story, I got reassurance that yes, there is hope for us when healing takes time. God’s healing grace is in treatments that like my mothers, are repeated again and again. Jesus, the great physician, did not always healed all at once.
On the trip home, my flight was delayed so I sat in the airport waiting out a rainstorm. The more I sat, the more discouraged I felt about my mother’s health. I sat thinking and looking out the huge, floor-to-ceiling window as the rain poured down. The landscape slowly slipped from view. The horizon of cypress trees and taxiing airplanes went from rather clear, but rainy picture… to a blurrier and blurrier sight as the rain came down in sheets. Pretty soon, I couldn’t see the slow moving planes at all. The only thing I could see was the droplets of rain racing across the glass window.
I returned to my bible and found Mark 8: 22-26 to read again the account of healing. (Jesus spits in the blind man’s eyes, asks the blind man if he can see. The blind man answers that he can see, but it’s really blurry. “People,” he says, “look like trees walking.” – Kind of like my partial blurred view out the window, I thought.) Jesus lays his hands on the man a second time and asks him to look upward. Then, his sight is made clear. This time, I noticed that in the story Jesus redirects the mans gaze upward the heavens. This spoke to me because I realized that for us who are in the process of healing and wholeness, the best place to fix our eyes, is upward. I looked out that window again, thinking, when the storms of life come I must not be discouraged by what I cannot see, but keep fixed on the hope of the unseen.

The view out our window on life, changes with the weather. When the storm pounds the glass – we can’t see like we used to. An illness or personal struggle can make us blurry-eyed, it can make us short-sighted. And certainly, our hope in those times is easily diminished.. but the bible says, in all of life, we never see perfectly, we always see through a window dimly.(1 Corinthians 13:12) We never have the full picture of what God is doing. One day, all will be revealed to us. And for us who love Christ, we are strengthen by this hope in Him.
It gave me strength that day, to consider that Jesus is still our healer. He is ever-with-us. He is bringing us to perfect sight over our long lives. It is by his grace that he takes me and you by the hand – just as he did the blind man and leads us.. If we keep our eyes, fixed on him, the unseen, we are sure to see more clearly over time.

When Rocks Cry Out

In July, we began a Wednesday Night Worship Service for teens. I was advised not to because lots of kids couldn't be there. (Families are on vacation, teens are helping with Vacation Bible School, on mission trips and other such stuff…) Nevertheless, it was on the heart of some church leaders to do it anyway.

The first Wednesday night we expected low attendance. But we had almost 40 people. Las night, we were certain there would be more teens. Unfortunately, we had half the amount of the previous week. The kids were disappointed with the low turn-out. It was a let-down.
This morning, I wondered if it would be better just to give up this crazy idea. Maybe folks were right, our timing is off. Maybe we ought to let it go?

I arrived to church this morning and headed to the sanctuary to prepare the worship space for Sunday. Wednesday night worship looks different than Sunday mornings. First, Julie and I had “turned” the pulpit into a rock pile and had covered the altar with candles and rocks. Second, Kit and Kyle had placed another rock pile in the back of the church for one of the prayer stations. During worship, we selected a rock to symbolize our burden and prayerfully wrote our troubles upon the rock.. For me, it was a moving experience. All of us took our burdens to the altar, prayed, lit a candle – and left it there for Jesus.

When I came in this morning to clear up the space, I saw the rocks. Exposed to the light of day, sitting out in an empty sanctuary, void of music, void of kids. I felt bad that I had considered canceling our teen worship nights. These rocks seem to shout to me “Don’t silence us!”

This brought to mind that story from scripture where Jesus tells us if everyone stopped praising him, then rocks would cry out. This morning, the rocks were doing just that.

When he came near the place where the road goes down the Mount of Olives, the whole crowd of disciples began to joyfully praise God in loud voices for all the miracles they had seen: "Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!" Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to Jesus, "Teacher, order your disciples to stop!" He replied, "I tell you, if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out." (Luke 19:37-40)

I smiled as I turned to Bible and re-read that passage from Luke. For us at Olivet, we fondly consider that biblical place known as the "Mount of Olives" to be our namesake - Olivet.

As I continued to read and place myself in the story, I could hear my own voice in the voice of the Pharisees: ordering an end to worship. Hmmm.. like a typical religious authority, I too had seriously considered putting an end to Wednesday night worship Wow, I had become like the Pharisees, trying to silence praise and judging praise as worthy or unworthy. Through reading this scripture, I was reminded that no one can stop the movement of God’s mighty acts of praise.

Funny - the stones cried out, just like Jesus said they would.

Yes, store-bought gravel rocks that people use in their gardens or driveways, covered with writing and scribbles, revealed to me God’s heart for worship. Twenty-four hours ago, I thought they were a clever tool for a prayer station. But an ordinary object can become an extraordinary tool for God’s message.

I decided to leave those rocks on the altar for Sunday morning– not just because they taught me today.. but also because each of those rocks points to a burdened soul. And each of those rocks can remind us that no matter the time, the place, or our age, all of us can lift our voices in prayer and praise.

On Wednesday nights at Olivet there is a place for where teens can hand it over to God – Whatever it is… and young people will continue to have a voice.

Gonna Lay My Birdies Down

In the last post, I showed photos from the baptism outside the church. The four girls took the lead, dressed in white robes, ready to baptised and singing "I'm gonna lay down my burdens, down by the riverside." They had spent the earlier part of the week pondering the mystery of the waters of baptism, of how Christians are raised to new life in Christ. We had journeyed together through theological concepts of sin and grace. Each of these girls came to the water that morning aware of their own burdens which would be brought to the grace of the moment.
After the baptism, I was driving home with my three year old daughter who began singing the song she heard at church -"I'm gonna lay down my burdens, down by the riverside." Except that she has misunderstood the words of the song and was singing "I'm gonna lay down my birdies.
Hearing this made me smile as I pictured what it would be like to have a sack of birdies and try to get them all to lay down. That would be next to impossible. It made me laugh to picture attempting this while the birds flap wildly, feathers flying. This humorous picture lingered with me for days.
Then one morning, it occured to me that as silly as it seems, sometimes laying a burden before God can be a bit like laying down "birdies." Sometimes we lay a concern before the Lord and rather than find peace, our concern just flaps more fervently, refusing to be tamed.
As difficult as it can be, our spiritual lives are dependant upon our daily faithful insistence that "those birdies" lay down.
If you find your burdens are more like Julianna's birdies, untamable, don't be discouraged. Keep at it and eventually the restless bird-ens will find rest in God.

We went down to the river...

Thanks to the Youngers for allowing us to gather on their dock.

The prayer of sanctification over the water - there is something very profound about saying those words of God's awesome power while standing in a cold river. Just days before, we had been to the same spot to look it over, when a snake appeared. This morning, the snake was sleeping but the jelly fish were visiting.

Our robes, in this photo, seem to depict us floating. However, our feet are being slowly swallowed by the mud. Only 1 flip-flop was lost.

Photos from the baptism at Olivet on Father's day 2009 by a very proud father.

Additional Photos from Pentecost Picnic

When the Holy Spirit Rains...

There is a saying
that a long-time
Olivet person just told me,
"Rain before 7, clear by 11".
I had never heard that before.
And if I had, then when I awoke to thunderstorms at 5am on Pentecost Sunday, I wouldn't have thought we needed to cancel the picnic.
Well, you can see by the pictures that the old saying was right - and that I was of little faith. The weather was clear, sunny and gorgeous by the time we celebrated on Mary and Ray's lawn next to the church.
Earlier in the week, I ran into Mary (whose lawn we enjoyed) at the store and she told me that Olivet's picnic was listed in the county newspaper. That's great! I thought.. until I heard that it also included the location as being at her house. Fortunately, no one who arrived welcomed themselves to her refridgerator.

Bob's twin grandbabies were the youngest people present - and in the picture above, you see three generations! I think that in the photo below, Kelly may be taking scripture literally and is concerned about a tongue of fire that has appeared above Ron's head - and she is trying to extinguish it. I don't know. These photos are all by Dave Jones. Keep sending em!

Jesus, Savior, Pilot Me

This last weekend, you likely heard the roar of the Blue Angels overhead, as the jets performed their aerobatic maneuvers celebrating Memorial Day Weekend. Since then, many of you shared with me your stories about where you had the thrill (or sometimes surprise!) of seeing them. First, I got a sense of the speed while driving back from Lexington Park, crossing the bridge and they flew above our car! Several of you told me how you planned to watch them from your boat, which sounded spectacular because they soar directly above all the boats in the river. Others didn’t have to leave land at all - you simply walked outside and watched from the comfort of your home. Interestingly, the funniest stories I heard both involved haircuts. One lady caught the performance from the chair of the beauty parlor while getting her hair cut on Solomons! Another lady told me that she was standing on her back deck, cutting her husbands hair, when the Blue Angels surprised them both, zooming above their house. (Don’t worry, she had a steady hand on the razor.)

Seeing the Blue Angels caused me to wonder about the skill and focus of the pilots. They must have such precision to do such complicated formations at such high speeds. I learned recently that for some of the maneuvers, the lead pilot in the formation has the primary responsibility of direction. The lead pilot charts the course for the whole group. All the other pilots look to his wing, or the wing or tail of the neighboring jet rather than looking straight ahead at where they are heading. Can you imagine driving your car at full speed – and rather than looking at the road ahead, you have to look out your side window at the car traveling beside you? I certainly can’t. It would take an incredible amount of trust the lead pilot. I would certainly want him to have excellent skills and ability!

For us who follow Jesus, Jesus Christ is our “lead pilot” as we perform the acrobatic maneuvers required to take the formation of “church”. Church, after all, is people working together with Christ as their Head to accomplish great things that could never be done by any one person “flying solo”. Being “church” means at times we take our eyes off of the road ahead – and instead trust the leadership of Christ our pilot, and rely on one another to stay on course.

This Spring, I have seen Olivet “soar in formation” through our collaboration on the Rummage Sale, the Pentecost Picnic, our Music Ministries, and the UM Men and UM women. Whenever you work together in Jesus name and lay aside your personal interests for the mission of serving others, you “fly in formation” for Christ’s glory!

I give thanks for the way that Olivet has collaborated with area churches for events like The Passion of the Christ Outdoor Theatre and the Evening Worship Services for Teens, which will continue this summer. None of us can do it alone. The greatest achievements occur when we care less about getting personal credit – and simply bond together for the glory of God.

This month, four young people will be added to the Church through the waters of Baptism. These four girls – Molly, Natalie, Emilee and Jess, have accepted Christ as their Pilot, so to speak, and will be baptized on Father’s Day June 21. I invite you to begin praying for each of them as they prepare for baptism. All of them chose to be baptized by immersion in the river, so following the 11am worship service, everyone will walk down the road to the creek, where they will receive the sacrament of baptism.
Praise the one who we follow, Jesus Christ our Savior, our redeemer and our Pilot!

Antsy for Grace

This last few weeks, I have come to a new level of awareness that I am a control freak. My teacher? Ants.

They have declared my casa is their casa... and I am battling these uninvited guests.

I have tried to be more vigilant about cleaning the kitchen, about emptying the cat bowl, about every splish, splash crumb and morsel that falls to the floor... But as I watch Sophia hobble about living room- chewing on an ear of corn, kernels dropping as she bounces - I realize, “The ants have found their shangrila."

Their path goes from the front of the house to the back. From the sticky floor in the kitchen to the lush, crumb encrusted carpet of the living room.

When I spotted a bright, orange Pepperidge Farm Goldfish cracker make it’s way across the dark living room carpet, I realized they are winning the battle.

Dr. Phil, of television fame, has written advise to those who are seeking to control the uncontrollable. He says, whenever people seek to control their environment they place a strain on their relationships and they become exhausted. None of us can control people or the world, so we need to simply let go of this kind of perfectionism. To make his point, he adds “The world is not going to fall off its axis if you let go. “

Dr. Phil is right – the world won’t fall off it’s axis if I let go of my obsession with crumbs and cleaning.. He is right that it strains my relationships because I am constantly nagging or brooding. And he is right: in seeking to control I become more and more exhausted. For me, it is not a physical exhaustion, as much as being discouraged that I can’t do better or work harder or make others around me do better or work harder.

A friend recently shared with me a word of encouragement that she got from a book she was reading, Tools Matter for Practicing the Spiritual Life by Mary Margaret Funk. for In it, she pictured the image of a gardener, and pointed out how most of us think we are he gardener of our lives.. we plant, we harvest, we design the layout of our lives. And when nothing grows, or something grows unexpectedly, we become frustrated. But, she explains that our task is not to be the gardener who does the planting, but to be the one instead who does the weeding. We should allow God to be the planter that he is.
What a different approach this would be, to accept the life I am in. Can I let go, and let God be the planter? Can I let go and take up tender task of weeding? For me, it is all about “letting go” of control?

Since God is the one planting the seeds within me and you, shouldn't that be enough assurance that things are in control?

After sharing this reflection on my ant problem, many people had suggestions on how I could tackle it. Numerous ideas ...Corn starch was a suggestion I had never heard.. along with cinnamon.... oh, and boric acid. Someone today told me to slide copper pennies into the baseboards of my house. Any other suggestions?

Overboard - Fishers of Men

Last evening while we enjoyed dinner with friends, I looked out the window toward the marina. Usually, I see boats moving at regular speeds in and out of the dock areas. This time, I saw a boat, not moving, sitting in the middle of "traffic." It caught my eye and as I looked closer I could hardly believe what I saw. There was a man being pulled up from the water! Immediately, I ran to the deck for a better view. Everyone left their dinner plate to watch the remainder of the rescue unfold.

While we stood there, we tried to guess what happened. We saw rescuers pull out a couple of people along with coolers, a backpack, an oar. There was no sign of a boat. Were they were coming back from a fishing trip, were so drunk that they jumped off, or fell off? We had no answers because we came in to the rescue scene "at the end" of the story.

This morning, when I walked out to the deck again with my morning coffee, I looked out at the same water which was now calm, quiet, void of excitement. I wondered again about the identity of those who had fallen in. While drinking my coffee, I decided, quite smugly, that those people weren't helpless - they were stupid. They shouldn't have needed rescued. They probably were drunk or rowdy or something. Oddly, my cynical assesment satisfied me. . For a moment..

A few sips of my coffee later, and the words "fisher of men" came to mind.

AH! Jesus said we are to be "fisher of men." Isn't that funny how an early Bible lesson comes to you at 5:30 in the morning when it's just you and your coffee mug?

Jesus said we are to be fishers of people, be he wasn't talking about saving drowning people.. literally.

But metaphorically, Jesus saves us who drown in sin. To follow him is to extend his saving grace to all.

Last nights rescuers didn't judge the persons like I did. When they found them, they fished them out of the 60 degree water. They didn't ask why they were in trouble before extending them a hand. They probably even wrapped a warm blanket around them.

To extend grace to the world, we must be as indiscriminating in our grace as those rescuers. After all, God's saving grace is extended to all of us, for all are in need of it.

We are all overboard.. and yet, by God's grace we are all , also, fishers of people.

The Search is Over

The Search is Over is a love song from the 80’s by Survivor about a guy who spends his life searching for true love, only to discover it was “with him” in his longtime female friend. He sings that she was just a girl he knew that he took for granted. Until one day, he looks in her eyes, their hands touch, and they realize that love was with them all the while. He describes his life as a highway that led him, no matter which path he took, straight back to her. The passion of the song, for me, is in the story of searching and searching, making mistakes and being forgiven when all along, the person you love (and who loves you unfailingly) is right there by your side. All that effort and worry when love was “right before your eyes.”

In the Gospel of Luke, we find a similar story of known as The Road to Emmaus. Two friends are walking the long road back from Jerusalem after the Passover. They are discussing the unexpected brutal crucifixion of their leader, Jesus of Nazareth. They are still emotional, upset, confused because some have said that Jesus is missing, some have said that he is alive. They are discussing this when a stranger appears and walks with them. This stranger is none other than Jesus – but the Bible says that their “eyes were kept from recognizing him” Luke 24:16.

The two disciples get a bit snippy, in my opinion, with this stranger who hasn’t heard the news. “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?” asks Cleopas. He fills him in on the details – but the stranger (Jesus) has a completely different take on the events. In fact, he says they are foolish for not viewing all that occured through the lenses of scripture. He reminds of what the prophets declared. Then, for many miles, he walks with them, interpreting scripture from Moses to Isaiah.

They reach their home and urge the stranger to stay a bit longer. This man was making sense. They wanted to hear more. His knowledge, his sincerity, his wisdom, his peace..

They sit down to dinner with this stranger… who takes bread, blesses it, breaks it and gives it to them. Aha! Their eyes are suddenly opened! This stranger is Jesus the Christ. Their search is over, love was with them all along.

The dramatic ending of the story is really it’s beginning.

The dramatic ending of the Passion, the angels at the tomb, the Risen Christ who appears alongside the disciples - that may be the literal end of the story - but for us who discover the love of Jesus, it is the begining of our story.

Once our eyes are opened, we see all of life differently. Where once we were asking, "Why did this have to happen?" We now look back on the past with a sense of awe at how everything "worked together for good" (Romans 8:28) Where once we were impatient with our present turmoil asking "How long do I have to wait?" We now have this thing called hope - a grace from God which imparts patience in the midst of problems.(Romans 12:12) And finally, where once we needed to know all the answers in order to face the future, now we have the assurance of faith. (Hebrews 11:1).

Love always changes us. When we think that the search is over, that is when our life just gets started.

Little Lamb of God

Ok. I don't spend so much time in the cemetery - although judging by the last 2 blog entries this may be hard to believe.

I took this photo of Sophia, when she discovered the small lamb atop one of the headstones at Olivet's cemetery. Unlike the other grave markers, this one was at her level - and it has that cute little lamb that seemed to be placed there for her to pet and adore lovingly. She talked to the lamb for awhile.. babbled at it, smiled and then...uh, put her mouth around it's snout.

Headstones like this were common in the late 1800's to designate the death of a baby or child. I have seen these same headstones in other cemeteries in Washington, DC. Sometimes the marker for a child will have an embossed lamb, to symbolize the innocence of a child - but other times, the lamb will sit atop the marker like a sculpture.

While Sophia enjoyed this little lamb of God, I pictured the parents and family gathering 100 years ago at that spot covered in grief. As a mother, seeing the headstone causes my heart to ache as if was there that dark day. For Sophia, seeing the headstone was like meeting a friend.

On Easter, we celebrate that death is conquered through Jesus' resurrection. Our greatest foe, death, doesn't have the last word. Instead, something completely mysterious awaits us: Eternal Life. We don't know exactly what it will be like, but we are sure that Jesus has gone ahead to prepare a place for us and knows our every need.

That said, try as I might, whenever I see the headstones of those little lambs, I feel sadness, loss, confusion at the brevity of life. To trust that eternal life awaits me perhaps requires me to return to childlike wonder and appreciation for all that is around me.

The Geocache'd Tomb

When I first learned of geocaching, the outdoor treasure-hunting game in which the participants use a Global Positioning System (GPS) to navigate to their way, I thought it an odd way to spend time and energy. I wondered what fun could there be in driving a distance to hike through a field and locate a Tupperware container? All of this effort for a trinket? Friends told me it was actually a fun game for all ages. And I eventually warmed up to the idea. After all, the search is the best part of a good hunt.

Yesterday at church, a car pulled up and two ladies hopped out and walked quite purposely, into Olivet’s cemetery. As is my clergy custom, I approached them and introduced myself. I noticed they had a paper in hand, which I assumed showed information about their ancestors. I said, “Do you have family here at Olivet?” She told me, “No” she was geocaching.

Evidently, Olivet is part of this geocaching treasure-hunting phenomenon. Afterwards, I logged on to the website (www.geocaching.com) to find out more. I found our church cemetery. It is a part of two hunts. Both of them refer to the ghosts you can find. This was unsettling to me. And then I read the comment, posted yesterday, by the woman I met. She wrote that she was muggled by the pastor. Muggled means that a non-geocacher “finds” the spot.

In reading her comment, I became troubled. From her perspective I had interfered with her hunt. Although, she was a visitor on our churches property – I was an interruption. Yet, from my perspective, to enter a cemetery with out intention to pay respect to the dead is an interruption. The cemetery is not a play yard. And it is not a setting for staging ghost hunts.
I walked through the cemetery this afternoon, during my time of prayer and reflection, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how upset I am that people are walking across the gravesites peering into their handheld GPS –in search of a trinket. It seems they don’t enter as I do, in humility that my time will come when I, too, will return to the earth. And they don’t enter it in reverence – that someone has been laid there to rest. As I walked, I became more and more upset because I felt like our cemetery is being treated like a sightseeing marker – not a place of holy ground.

I thought about the gospel story for Easter morning, when Mary arrives at the tomb and finds Jesus’ body missing. (John 20:1-10) She thought robbers had taken him. Her sorrow must have been mixed with a similar feeling of violation on behalf of the deceased. Can’t they just leave Jesus alone? Why must they treat him like public property that can be handled or dragged off in any manner they chose?

The days leading up to Easter are always, for me, a time when death, the tomb, the grave all become more real. They feel closer. Certainly, others around may be getting ready for Easter without attending mid-week services. For some, Easter has nothing to do with Jesus' resurrection. Nothing to do with the cross.

Living the Holy Week experience in a world where Easter is about Bunnies, can be like standing next to someone who seeks direction from a GPS. Both are in the same spot. But each see it quite differently.

Mary at the tomb, perhaps can model for us the best response to a world that "misses the point" so to speak.

She cries.

She cries and through her tears - says that she is willing to do whatever it takes
(Tell me where you laid him, and I will go get him).
Jesus meets her - and us - in that place of sorrow.

Photos from Palm Sunday by Doug Hood

Palm Sunday at Olivet

The Olivet Choir led us in song -as we followed the children's band and waved the branches of palm trees!
The church website won't let me post these, or anything for that matter.. so I am posting them on the blog. Enjoy.

All that Matters

"You'll find a colt. Untie and bring it."
"A woman will pour out expensive perfume. Let her be."
"You'll see a guy with a jug of water. Follow him home."

In the fourteenth chapter of Mark, Jesus gives the above directions to his disciples on the road to Jerusalem. It all must have been surreal - these disjointed, random strangers and events that occur right in line with Jesus' prediction.

I imaging that following Jesus on his entry (palms waving, people shouting) was both exciting and exhausting for the disciples. When they finally reached the upper room, they probably reclined, poured some wine and settled in for a good night of conversation about the days events.
But not Jesus.
His heart was heavy.
He'd already been handed over by Judas - and he knew it. (Mark 14:10-11) As he looked around the table, his heart must have ached as he pictured each of his beloved friends scattering like sheep. (Mark 14:27-31)

"A rooster will crow twice - and you will betray me.. but don't worry, I won't betray you, " he tells them.

When I was in elementary Sunday School, I remember distinctly reading Jesus' words to Peter (above) and actually feeling a chill come over me. I knew that if I was in that situation, I would be just Peter. I'd run. It gave me a chill to think that Jesus "saw through" Peter ... and despite this still loved him.

Since then, I have certainly psychoanylzed my "chill" response to this scripture and, in fact, I have never told anyone of how deeply it effected me.. for fear of being labeled an emotional child with anxiety related to blah, blah, blah.

But I believe now that that chill I felt was conviction. The truth of human nature as relayed in the Gospel is powerful. No matter our age, it can convict us.

The story of Holy Week convicts my daughter who asked me yesterday to tell her again about Jesus and the cross. She popped her head up from the pillow and interupted, asking, "Was the Holy Spirit there?" When I assured her, yes, the Holy Spirit was there - she was relieved. She put her head back down. "Good," she said.

If the Gospel doesn't convict us, if we don't see ourselves in this drama of Christ dying for us, than we are missing the grace it offers.

So here I publicly and openly "blog" that, as a third grader, the sound of the cock crowing haunted me.. and still haunts me.

Can I stick by Jesus on this road that leads to a hellish place known as the skull?

Holy Week is almost here.

Will I deny him this year?

On Palm Sunday, I am pretty confident I can make the steps. I am pretty sure I am strong enough to go with my Lord.

But when I clean up the palms from the pews this Sunday afternoon, I know the truth. I am no different than Peter.
By Good Friday, I will be weeping in the church pew.
Because I can't go with him.
I run.
I hide.
My love fails.
But it's okay. His love remains steadfast. And that is all that matters.

Freaking Me Out

One of the junior high students pointed out to me last Sunday night, that she just realized that our church has two identical paintings.
“Did you ever notice that, Pastor Faith?” she asked, as she pointed to the portrait of Jesus Christ hanging above the sound booth in our sanctuary.
“Yeah,” I replied, “We like Jesus around here.”
“But it’s the same picture. Twice. That’s freaking me out,” she said and walked away.
I disregarded her comment as dramatic for the sake of being dramatic. But then I thought about it some more. She is right that there are two identical pictures in the church.

At the front of the sanctuary hangs an oval framed copy of Warner Sallman’s “Head of Christ.” In the back of the church, hangs the same 1940’s Sallman painting except this one framed in a smaller, simpler, square frame. A person could be a bit freaked out, I suppose, especially if they never saw any other depictions of Christ besides the body-less, blonde man.
I appreciate Sallman’s “Head of Christ” as an American Icon. I know it is the most popular depiction of Jesus. When I travelled to Korea, I saw it hanging on the walls of a Sunday school classroom. It doesn’t freak me out, so to speak, because I have since learned that Sallman’s Head of Christ has been reproduced over 500 million times.
Like the “Head of Christ,” the scripture for this weeks lectionary (John 3:14-21) holds a particularly famous passage which is overly familiar to many of us. The words of John 3:16 have been reproduced in greeting cards, coffee mugs and neck ties.. even lifted up on cardboard behind the goal post at football games. It is a great scripture – it is worth repeating.. but, I wonder has it lost it's impact from being overly used?

The truth of the verse, that God loved us so much that he sent us his only Son.. Does it continue to speak deeply to your soul when you see it again and again.... or does it become commonplance... and "hang" in your life like a painting you see everywhere and take for granted? I just wonder…

Spiritual Spring Cleaning

Cleaning the house is always a challenge for me. Before I left to come to Florida, I attempted to conduct some minimal spring cleaning. You would think that since we haven’t even lived in this house a year, that this would be easy. Not to mention that in the 7 months we have lived here, I have had folks help me get a jumpstart on cleaning. For instance, my sister visited last month and reorganized my linen closet and kitchen pantry. This had not already been done once by my best friend who visited last November. (Hmmm.. wait a minute.. so much for the theory that guests are “like fish” after three days. Mine don’t smell - they scrub!)
The season of Lent is an opportunity to do some spiritual house cleaning. Through intentional disciplines and self-sacrifice, we hope to clear away distractions and open ourselves to God’s grace. This can be just as much of a challenge as housework. How will I find the time? Will I be able to keep it up? Why vacuum cookie crumbs that just reappear in 24 hours?
I was pondering the concept of spiritual spring cleaning, while vacuuming up cookie, cracker and who knows what. I had slipped into that “vacuuming zone” – you know the one? Where the world is blocked out by the hummm of the Hoover? I admit I enjoy the inner quiet that I find in the “vacuuming zone.” For an opposite reason. my older daughter Julianna loves the loud vacuum because it is the perfect time to sing at the top of her lungs.
While in this “zone,” I stopped paying attention to our 15-month old daughter Sophia. She had been toddling around the living room as I was cleaning. When I turned to check her whereabouts, I was shocked to discover her innocently sitting in the “wake” of my cleaning path, shredding up tissue with vigor.
My first reaction was, “AAAH! Futility!” I remembered the Greek myth of Sisyphus. How his punishment was to push a boulder up a hill, only to watch it roll down again. Repeating this again and again through eternity. I lamented. Would I ever have a clean house? Would someone always undo my effort? Then, my hardened heart of self-pity was softened as I saw her innocent delight in shredding tissue.
She possessed as much determination and focus in shredding Kleenex as I had in vacuuming. Like mother, like daughter. It seemed she was cleaning in her own way. She was, in her mind, playing house. I turned off the vacuum and grabbed a camera, which upset her because I jolted her out of her own “vacuum zone”.. and the party was over. . The photo is that precise moment.
Lent is a fine time to get absorbed in our relationship with God. But it also can become a time of getting absorbed in the dirt, dust and the clutter of our human nature. That is not the point of taking on a spiritual discipline. Our focus ought to be on spending time with God in a new way. A way that changes us and makes us more like Jesus.The grace of Lent is that we can set aside time to draw closer to God who enjoys us. Maybe God, like Sophia, cares less about the cookie crumbs that we strive to get rid of – but more about being with us for the journey.

Betcha Can't Eat Just One

Remember the advertising slogan "Betcha Can't Eat Just One"? It was in reference to potato chips. It was saying that the snack was so good, you would not be able to stop. As I enjoy these last hours of Shrove Tuesday (or Fat Tuesday or Mardi Gras) I wonder: Will I have the self-discipline to keep my Lenten promise? There is that voice that vexes me, like the slogan, telling me to bet against myself.

Traditionally, Shrove Tuesday is the night when each of us indulge in our guilty pleasure before the 40 day season of Lent begins. The logic being, perhaps, that we get it out of our system? Or more practically, we rid our house of the sweets (or other temptations) so that we don't have to face them when we open the pantry. Clear out the cookie jars, the wine racks, the ice cream in the freezer. No wonder this holiday has wide appeal. At Olivet Church tonight, people gather for a Pancake Supper which falls right in line with this Christian tradition of purging before Lent.

However, I am not in Lusby pigging out on pancakes.

I am visiting my mom who is battling a disease which leaves her with no appetite. She sat tonight picking at her pasta. It's fine, she tells me, I just have no appetite. I ask her if there is anything she craves. No, everyone asks that, she tells me. What about chocolate? What about a potato chip? Betcha can't eat just one of those! But alas, she has no appetite for any of these things that most of us would give up for Lent.

In this moment, I realize the irony. Like many of us, my mom has sought to control her desire for those "sinful sweets" her whole life. My earliest memory of her is when she would run from our house, cutting through the backyard, to reach the Goshen Dairy ice cream shop before it closed. I have her same sweet tooth. Wouldn't a loss of appetite be a welcomed change? It certainly would be an easy way to "get through" Lent.

But today, as I watched her, I began to see that our appetite is a gift. Sure it can lead to temptation. It could result in poor choices. But our appetite is what gives us life. It provides an entry point for God to meet us in our human desire. We have the potential to have appetites for all sorts of things, God's grace included.

My mom's appetite for food has been dulled. She won't be joining in any pancake suppers tonight. But her appetite for God's grace is just as huge. She hungers His peace. She takes second and third helpings of the fellowship of Christian believers. She would, figuratively speaking, sneak out the back door tonight and run toward His sweet spirit!

Lent doesn't have to be about suppressing our desire - in fact, trouble arises when we try to deny our desires. Instead, Lent can be a time of deepening our desire – our desire simply needs a holy focus. Lent can be a time of letting ourselves go in our Holy desires. How great to indulge in these! There is no shame in pigging out on God’s love, peace, hope, joy.
The depths of our spirituality does not depend upon changing the things we do, but in doing for God what we ordinarily do for ourselves. --Brother Lawrence

Mountain Top Experiences

When I lived in Los Angeles, my favorite place to relax and be with my thoughts was up in the Canyons above Pepperdine University. (The picture here is of one those winding paths.) In the clear air, looking out over the sparkling Pacific Ocean, the sun was close and God's presence felt even closer.


In the Bible, whenever someone heads up a mountain, God shows up. Mountains, in ancient times, were the geographical places where God descended to meet those who ascended. Climbing a mountain, like seeking the Lord, takes effort and willpower.

Elijiah fled up the mountain when life looked like failure after failure. He set out on a forty day journey up Mt Horeb (or Sinai) the same mountain where Moses received the 10 Commandments. On this tiresome journey, he ate the food God prepared (cakes, yum) and when he reached the place, God asked him "What are you doing here?" (That interrogation always puzzled me.) But anyway, on that mountain God spoke a sweet, still voice of encouragement and Elijiah was able to go back down the mountain and face his foes and failures. (1 Kings 19:1-12)


This week in our scripture reading, Jesus heads up a mountain with three of his disciples. (Mark 9: 2-10 ) and there a strange, dazzling change takes place in Jesus. He is transfigured, his clothes turn bright white and two strangers appear beside him. The Bible tells us it was Elijah and Moses, hanging out talking to Jesus. But I wonder how anyone knew it was Moses (did he look like Charlton Heston? Cause Moses to me will always be the Moses in Cecile DeMille's classic film) Somehow, the disciples knew who Jesus was with and they were terrified. Peter freaks out and blurts something out about how nice it would be to put a plaque here, or build a monument to remember this by. That's when God's voice resounds - and tells them to listen to Jesus, because he is the Son of God.


(Poor peter, he always is quick to act and then ends up getting shut down, put back in his place or even called Satan. )


They descend the mountain and Jesus tells them to be quiet about what they saw and heard.


Likewise, when we have up-close experiences of God - perhaps on a retreat, in our private devotion, or at an arena where thousands worship and the Holy Spirit is really kicking.. there is still a need for us to "come down" the mountain, not build a shrine, and maybe not even talk a lot about what we saw. Because we see in the Gospel, that the work of God was incomplete on that mountain. God's command is for the disciples to listen - and Jesus follows up with a reminder them that listening means keeping your mouth shut. (I think of school teachers that would say, keep your ears open and your mouths shut!)

Perhaps, like St. Francis of Assisi advised, we witness to God more loudly, when use less words. (He said Preach the gospel at all times, and if necessary use words.)

Have you ever loved something only to find that the effect was missing for those you sought to share it with? Maybe a book that “changed” your life? Or a movie? Or a favorite hiking spot? What about a revival or retreat?

I ask all of this aware that I am more like Peter, quick to do respond, start something whenever I have a glimpse of God’s glory.. and the scripture reminds me to value a silent witness.

For me a take-home truth is sometimes mountain top experiences call us to “be” – not “do”. Doing can cheapen the grace of the event, turn the experience into an idol, not drag others up our Great God Moment Mountain. but just let those moments resonate in our soul. In hiking the Malibu Canyon paths, I would try to convince others of it’s value.. but I found no one seemed to enjoy it the way I did. What was for me a profound God Moment was for them just another dusty trail through a canyon.

Tree by the River

Imagine a tree planted firmly alongside a rough, raging river. Next, imagine standing alongside the tree. There, to your shock, you look down and see a person in distress - caught in the turbulent water, holding on to a piece of their broken raft which is lodged in useen rocks below the surface.

What do you do? How do you rescue the person in trouble?
You certainly could jump in with both feet -but you would likely be carried away by the water, placing yourself in need of rescue. You could stand on the side and shout words of instruction or comfort. This would assure your safety.. but might not save the victim. Finally, you could use the firm stability of the tree to anchor yourself as you extend help.

This image descibes the "ministry moment" - the moment when we meet someone in crisis and we begin to strategize on how to respond.

In my life, there are times when I've applied each of the techniques. I have stood on the side and offered suggestions, I have also jumped in without recognizing how I was placing myself in danger.

For me, the tree planted firmly by the raging water represents the solid resources that are available whenever we help people in crisis. None of us are expected to do it on our own. The tree also symbolizes our faith in Jesus Christ who is always present as a source of strength in crisis. We must remain tethered to him - and tethered to good resources that keep us from being pulled down stream.

I share this because in the last 6 weeks, I haven't written because I was (going with this imagery) in rescue mode with my family. Sometimes holding on to the tree, other times clinging to a broken raft. Always catching my breath and trying to find solid footing.

I have found the solid footing of Jesus Christ in everything from my morning devotional (the upper room), bible study with other pastors, listening to Christian music, conversations with Christian friends.. and suprisingly, even from the recent movie we showed at church, FIREPROOF.

If anything has changed since I last wrote, it is that I can testify even more strongly that the only way to weather the storms of life is to be tethered to the unshakable love of Christ.

Beneath the Stars

The star of Epiphany has me thinking and looking upward to the heavens This last month, there has been a bright star at sunset, it is Venus I guess. It must have been spectacular to see the star above Bethlehem. But the story of Epiphany isn’t just about the star – it is about finding Christ around us.. and identifying the signs that point us to Him.

This New Years Eve, I was asleep by 10pm and startled awake at midnight by the sound of fireworks and the neighbor boys jumping up and down and screaming on their porch outside my bedroom window. As I tried to return to sleep, I began to recall New Year’s Past.
For instance, when I was in junior hight, I too went out on my porch at midnight to blast my french horn in a very loud Auld Lange Sine. I certainly awoke my share of sleeping neighbors.

But there was New Years Eve, when I was not on my front porch, but at a party.. and right before the stroke of midnight, I ran outside to be alone and look up at the stars. Outside in the cold, it was just me and the bareness of the field, the hollow sounds of celebration from houses in the distance. That New Year’s Eve, I stood looking up at the stars and felt my heart ache for something greater. It was there that I I had an epiphany, as they say. It was that my true self was not to be found back at that party, or even out alone in the field.. That my true identity rested in God. I felt that there must be a purpose for my life, and I desperately wanted to know it. The peace I felt that night, was a sense that I just needed to keep on the path. Under the stars, I felt deep peace that God was setting the direction if I could just keep following His star.

All of us have a star we must follow – Following stars is not easy, even the wisemen stopped and asked for directions. But all of us have a course that God has charted, and the star always leads us closer to the love and grace of Jesus Christ.

Polar Bear Swim at North Beach

Nothing profound. Just my husband entertaining me with his latest display of nuttiness. So...today is the first day of a new year and he took the polar bear plunge at North Beach. I tried out my new video camera - and captured it on tape. Enjoy. And see you at North Beach next year at 2pm on January 1, 2010.