Saying Goodbye

One of the customs that my wife and I have begun is the strenuous task of watching TV shows. I didn't really watch much TV when I was growing up because my siblings were too busy bothering me all of the time. But Claire and I spend time together relaxing and watching TV shows and talking about them.

Most of the TV shows we watch are on DVD so I can watch them whenever I want (The West Wing, Friends, etc.). But we've been watching Downton Abbey and we've caught up so that I now have to wait before I know what happens.

I have been engrossed by the plot lines of this particular show, and the episode we watched this past Sunday particularly drew my attention. I'm going to try not to post any spoilers, but be aware that I'm pretty bad about spoiling TV shows. In the episode one of the characters falls sick and dies. After the person dies one of the main characters is shown saying goodbye. She takes a special moment to kiss the deceased person on the forehead and say "goodbye".

As I watched this scene I was reminded of the times in my own life when I have said goodbye to a loved one, whether it was a permanent goodbye or a temporary one.

I have been blessed to have had a chance to, in one way or another, say goodbye to three of my four grandparents. All of the moments in my life when I had the chance to say goodbyes to the ones I loved were painful at the time, but they are moments that I now treasure. Having the chance to look into the face of someone for whom we truly care and say a meaningful goodbye, even if they cannot return the gaze, is something that far too few people have. I believe that saying goodbye is an important part of our relationships with one another.

There was a patient who came into the emergency room while I was working in Richmond. This man had fallen from a high place and was not identified. As he was being cared for in the emergency room his condition worsened and he passed away. As I was standing there watching a man I did not know depart this life I noticed that he had a wedding ring on his finger. Because we were not able to identify this man we had no way to contact any loved ones. I remember offering up a prayer at that moment for this man's loved ones who did not have the chance to say goodbye.

The last goodbyes are not the only ones we say. We use this word so often in our lives that it becomes one that is mundane. Every time we part company, we find ourselves saying goodbye. I think that this is a great thing because this word can feel so casual, yet it can also be very meaningful. I have to think that these is a reason that the word "good" is part of our process of departing. It is a wish that the person we are leaving will be kept well and cared for, but I think it is also a little hint of the value we give one another. When I say goodbye, I can't help but think that the time we have had together has been good, and I wouldn't trade it for anything in this world. There is something "good" about "goodbye" - it says that we have had a chance to share our moments with someone who has helped us make them precious.

Called - Sermon from 1/13/2013

Luke 3:15-17, 21-22

Does this man make you want to jump right in?

I'm going to say it right at the get go: John the Baptist is scary. Every time John the Baptist comes into a narrative in the Gospels, he seems to be condemning people left and right, calling people broods of vipers, and making scary threats. Not to mention the fact that he's usually described as eating next to nothing and wearing an odd assortment of clothes. I don't know about you, but he's just not the reassuring picture of someone who was sent to preach good news.

John's purpose in this story, and in general, is to prepare the way for the Messiah. That is John's calling. How does he do this? He tells the people that they must repent of their sins and be ready for Jesus. As scary as John seems, the verses right before our passage today are ones of hope. When asked what the people must do to repent, John's requirement is basic: share with one another and treat each other with the respect that is due to you. Does this sound familiar, maybe like something Christ would say? John fulfills his calling by preaching the good news that Christ would continue. Enter Jesus for his baptism.

The passage says that the Holy Spirit descended in bodily form as a dove and God spoke directly to Jesus. Now, if that is not a sign from above, I do not know what is! This is where we get to see the calling of Jesus, and how appropriate that it happens right after his baptism. As Jesus prays, God says, "You are my Son. You are beloved, with you I am well pleased." This is God's way of calling Jesus. This is God's way of affirming that Jesus is, in fact, the Messiah and that he will be the salvation of all.

But this was not just a gentle affirmation. This was a calling. This was going to be the toughest thing CHrist had ever done. Jesus left from this baptism to be tempted in the wilderness, to be rejected by his community, and, eventually, to his death on a cross. Being claimed as the Son of God meant that Jesus was being led to his ministry, and the Holy Spirit was evidence of God’s presence in the midst of all of this.

A call is as true for us as it was for Jesus. Our baptism may not have looked the same, but in our baptism we are also claimed by God. God says to us, "You are my beloved, with you I am well pleased." When we are claimed as children of God, this in itself is a kind of calling. We are called to live lives that witness to this gift of grace. I guess the big question, and the one that it seems like we all ask ourselves is “How do we figure out what God is calling us to be?”

Jesus demonstrates one way in this passage. After his baptism, he prays to God. He takes time to consider his heavenly Father. This is when God speaks to him in Luke. It is through prayer that Jesus hears God’s call and it is during prayer that the Holy Spirit becomes a force in his life.

I truly believe that prayer is a way for us to discern God’s call for our lives. Just this last week I emailed someone to ask them to participate in an activity because I believed she was well suited for it. Her response was, “I’m not really sure that I’m well suited for this. I really need to pray about it.” I thought that was such an incredible answer. She took the time to turn to God and ask God, “Is this really something you are calling me to do? Is this how you want me to share your love?”

She really struggled with the situation. But she described it as a sense of peace that settled over her when she decided to follow this call.

Another way that I think we follow God’s call for our lives is described by theologian and Presbyterian pastor Frederick Buechner. He describes answering a call as taking up our vocation. He says that the place that God calls us to is where our deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet. I would describe our deep gladness as our passions, the things we find important, the things in which we find true meaning and enjoyment.

This is how we follow the guidance of the Holy Spirit. The Spirit calls to us and creates within us deep passions which fuel and motivate us. By following these things which make us truly happy, we find fulfillment in the things that we do which have an impact on those around us. This is how we follow God’s call. And it all starts with baptism.

Scripture gives us a neat image to think of the Spirit’s guidance in our lives. John the Baptist talks about the winnowing fork and the wheat and the chaff. All of this seems somewhat foreign to us, but it is a cool image. A winnowing fork was basically like a pitch fork. The farmer wanted to separate useful wheat from the useless husks and straw. So the farmer would toss all of the grain up in the air, and the wind would blow the lighter chaff separate from the heavier grain. This way, the useful wheat could be separated and stored.

This reminds me of the movement of the Spirit in our lives. It is the Spirit’s movement in our lives that separates our calling, or deep passion. It is only through the blowing of the Spirit that we are able to discern what is most important to us. And this movement starts with baptism.

As I have been thinking and reading about baptism, I came across a story. I don’t remember who told the story, but we will call her Delpha. Delpha tells the story of her baptism in a pond near their church. Being a Baptist, this particular baptism involved full immersion when she was a teenager. She and the others who were being baptized went down to the river with white robes on symbolizing being washed clean of sin in the waters of baptism, the cleansing power of God’s grace. Well the pastors were in the pond dipping people as they came into the water and then sending them back out. And Delpha started to notice something about the people as they came out. People went in with white robes on, and came out covered in mud, stinking to high heavens. Turns out the pond that this church used happened to also be a pond with a pleasant mixture of mud and manure as it was frequented by livestock. This seems like an unfortunate location for a baptism.

So the people would go in all white, the pastor would say, “I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,” and dip them under the water. They would emerge sputtering and covered in mud. When it was Delpha’s turn she wadded into the pond making that squelching sound your feet make when they sink down in the mud and you have to pull real hard to pry them out. The pastor said the words and dipped her under the water, she came out sputtering with her white robe covered in nasty, smelly mud.

I can just imagine all of these newly baptized people walking out of this little pond covered in mud thinking, “This does not look the way I thought it was going to! What did I sign up for?”

But I think this is such a cool image for baptism. The people baptized in that pond that day were being (fingers) “washed clean” from sin. Yet when they came out of the waters, they were anything but clean. When Jesus emerged from his baptism, he emerged into a world that would condemn and kill him. When we emerge from our baptism, the call that we hear is not to a world that is bleached and starched and pearly white. It is not to a world that is perfect. We emerge from baptism and we are called to service for the Lord in a world that is covered in mud. A world that is filled with brokenness, mistrust, sadness and sorrow. We are  called into a world where the hurts seem endless and the pain can feel even worse.

But, we are called.

None of these things are a surprise to us. We are not surprised that there is so much wrong with the world, and the hope that we find is that God’s Spirit descends. God calls us beloved and issues our call. In fact, I think we know that God has called us, in part, because the world is such a broken place. God has called us because the broken world needs us.

I have a confession: I am a Lord of The Rings fan. It is a wonderful fantasy series written by J.R.R. Tolkien. I remember a quote by Gandalf, a character of wisdom in the book, in response to the despair of a broken world. Another character says to him, “I wish that none of this had happened.” Gandalf says, “So do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”

This is how we answer God’s call, by deciding to follow the guidance of the Spirit and by working for change in the world.

And so I ask you, what are your deepest passions? Where do they meet the deepest hunger, the deepest needs of this world? Where are you called to do God’s work?

May we encounter God in our prayer and in our lives. May God’s Spirit descend upon us as a dove creating within us a deep passion to live out God’s love. And may we go from this place, a people hearing and following God’s call in every way. Amen.

Out with the old, in with the new.

As it is the new year now with many exciting new things, I began to reflect on new things. What is new, and what value we give these new things? I'm sure that it is no surprise that our culture seems fascinated by new things. We are excited by new developments, we want to here the "new" news, and we want the newest products, sometimes simply for the fact that they are new. Many large corporations are able to capitalize on this desire for new things.

I have found myself using the "new" word quite a bit the last few weeks. I catch myself in many an introduction saying, "I'm the new associate pastor at First Presbyterian Church in Albemarle." While this is an accurate description, at some point I will no longer be the "new" associate pastor. This is not part of my permanent identity.

While our culture seems to be excited and enthused about new things, the opposite is often true about old things. We are hesitant to rely upon things that are old rather than on things that are new. We see old things as in need of replacement by new things.


As I think about the push and pull of old and new, a sermon from one of my mentors comes to mind. His name is Andrew Taylor-Troutman and he published an excellent book called Take My Hand: A Theological Memoir. The book highlights sermons from his first year of ministry at New Dublin Presbyterian Church (here is a link to his blog). In his first sermon in his new church, Andrew describes the intricate balance between the old and the new that is essential to church life. The past and its traditions are important for the present and should be respected. However, the past should also not be worshiped at the cost of losing our hopes for a changing future.

This balance of tradition and innovation is an important part of our church. We have an extensive and rich tradition which needs to play a part of our lives as people of the great cloud of witnesses that is the church. Yet, especially for people of the Reformed tradition, we feel the need to remain applicable to the changing world around us. This is a balance that defines us and informs our worship, celebration, and faithfulness.

While I am primarily concerned with this balance in my daily planning of worship and church life, this balance has taken on new life for me recently. It has also been fresh in my mind as I have experienced the debates regarding the second amendment over the last days and weeks. In particular, I have heard various camps arguing about what the founding fathers meant or what they didn't mean when they wrote those 27 words. To me, this issue, especially in light of the many recent shootings in our country, can be considered in light of our balance between the old and the new. It is important for us to recognize the tradition of this second amendment while at the same time considering the time and place in which we find ourselves today.

If we allow ourselves the luxury and challenge of this balance between the old and the new, I believe we will be able to honor the tradition which we love and respect while at the same time accepting the challenges that modern life presents. I do not claim to know what this looks like, but it is a challenge that I believe requires thoughtfulness and respect. As Andrew says in the close of his sermon, "Let us pray to strike a balance between the old and the new. Let us pray for the Holy Spirit to bring new life and maintain tradition." Amen.

The emotions of Christmas

The church does a joint Sunday School on Fifth Sundays. I was asked to do an introduction to the topic of "Keeping Christmas." Here are my thoughts. Keep in mind they accompany group reflection.

There is a huge let-down after Christmas. Many stores are closed. All of the presents have been given, all the stories have been told, all of the cookies have been eaten.

The holidays feel totally over and as often as it feels like a relief to have gotten through all of the stress and anxiety of the holidays, it also feels a little sad.

The excitement of Advent and Christmas filled up this big balloon, and Christmas is when the balloon popped and those days were exciting and fun and loud. But now the balloon has been popped and it lays, deflated on the ground.

How do we keep up the excitement of Christmas? We are so energized at Christmas and we have this whole “peace on earth” attitude going. There is a strong desire to give to others. How we capture that after Christmas and hold that throughout the year?

First of all, the secular world wants us to get over Christmas. As soon as the 26^th hits, the after-Christmas sales begin as does the ramp up to New Years. The secular world has its own liturgical season, and this matches up with Advent well. We both approach Christmas with lots of anticipation and excitement. But once Christmas is over, that’s it.

This is not the case for Christians, because, for us, Christmas lasts until Epiphany on January 6^th. Christmas is not just the celebration of one day, it’s part of season in the liturgical calendar. That’s why we can get away with coming to worship the Sunday after Christmas and singing a bunch of carols.

But we’re looking at making the feeling of Christmas last, not just the season. I know that you’re going to be surprised, but in cases like this, I find it helpful to turn to Scripture.

Luke 2:41-51.

Now every year Jesus’ parents went to Jerusalem for the festival of the Passover. And when he was twelve years old, they went up as usual for the festival. When the festival was ended and they started to return, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem, but his parents did not know it. Assuming that he was in the group of travelers, they went a day’s journey. Then they started to look for him among their relatives and friends. When they did not find him, they returned to Jerusalem to search for him. After three days they found him in the temple, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. And all who heard him were amazed at his understanding and his answers. When his parents saw him they were astonished; and his mother said to him, “Child, why have you treated us like this? Look, your father and I have been searching for you in great anxiety.” He said to them, “Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” But they did not understand what he said to them. Then he went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them. His mother treasured all these things in her heart.

As I read this passage, I see that it gives us a method to approach the time immediately following Christmas. This is a story about Jesus getting left behind in Jerusalem when he and his parents make their yearly pilgrimage to the town. It’s kind of a surprising story, but it has some instructive parts. Notice the feelings, emotions, and actions in the story. They are strong.

Mary and Joseph as they searched – great anxiety.

When Jesus’ parents find him after searching for three days – astonished.

Everyone who heard Jesus – amazed.

When Jesus talked – understanding versus not understanding

Mary – treasured all these things in her heart.

When we read this story, we see a lot of the emotions that we might imagine as we read the birth story.

There was an incredible amount of uncertainty on the part of Joseph, Mary, the shepherds, the magi, Herod…everyone was anxious.

There was certainly astonishment – the shepherds, Joseph, Mary.

Some people in the stories seemed to understand what was happening, while many of the characters didn’t understand.

This passage ends the same way that the visit of the shepherds does in Luke. Mary treasured all these things in her heart.

I think that this passage is telling us that our faith and the way we live after Christmas should look the way it does as we prepare for Christ in advent. We are being told to experience the same emotions after Christmas that we do – these emotions of anxiety, astonishment, treasuring. To feel the same way about our lives after Christmas as we do before, we can follow the Biblical method – fill ourselves with the emotions we experience at Christmas throughout the entire year.

How do we do that?

Return our thoughts to the four weeks of Advent – Hope, Peace, Joy, and Love. =

By revisiting these four themes, we can discover a method for reviving these emotions within us. These themes can stir the feelings of anxiety, astonishment, sometimes a lack of understanding. They can give us life.

Christmas Eve Monologues

These are two monologues I wrote for the late service at First Presbyterian in Albemarle. One of the youth and one of the college students read the parts and I thought they did so marvelously. The Joseph part I wrote out of reflection about his situation. The Mary part is my rewrite of the Magnificat.

Joseph                                 

It seemed as though I figured out how to get by. I figured out what life was all about. I understood

things. My life felt like my wood working. I could build things with my hands and I had total control of

what they looked like. Just like with a piece of wood which I could turn into a table, or a chair, I could

determine how things would work out, and how they would look in the end.

This is how I had control over my life, as well. I figured out how I was going to be able to support myself

and my new wife. I knew what our marriage and our lives would look like. I was just starting to get a grip

on how this whole thing was going to work out when I was thrown off-kilter.

I feel as though I was once standing on solid ground that has been removed. I feel as though I was in a

house that was solidly built, and all of the sudden, the land gave out underneath me. Everything upon

which I had built my life seemed to shift unexpectedly.

The birth of this child is so unexpected. I had this marriage planned out, and everything was going

according to that plan. With all that has happened – the surprise of this pregnancy and the reassurance

of the visit of a messenger – I don’t know where to place my feet next. My path ahead seems veiled. I

don’t know what my next actions should be.

We have come to this town because we were forced to. We find ourselves in this dirty stable because

there was no other choice. Mary lays our child in a feeding trough because there is nowhere else! It feels

like we have no say in this whole thing.

I’ve come to a point where I can no longer resist. I can only be guided, directed, and pushed so many

times before I realize that I am not the one in control. And you know what? I finally realize that that is

a comforting thing. This plan certainly isn’t my plan, but I can tell that Mary has been chosen to mother

this child, and I have been chosen to help her raise him.

What can I do now? Try to care for this child. I can try to comfort and protect this baby. I don’t know

what the messenger meant by saying this child would save his people from their sins, but I know that I

can do my best to protect him.

I don’t know what’s going to happen next, Lord. I don’t know how this whole thing is going to work out,

and I have a feeling it’s not going to be easy. I just ask you to protect us Lord. This is my prayer to you.

Mary

 Oh how my soul magnifies the Lord!

How my spirit rejoices in my God, in my Savior.

Who am I? I must be the least important person God has ever blessed. There are people who are much

holier than me. People who have lived lives more extraordinary than my own! Why is it that God has

seen fit to pick me, out of all the servants of the Lord?

All people, from this point on, will surely call me blessed. God has done such incredible things for me.

How wonderful is God for the gift I have been given. It seems like mercy flows forth to those who trust

in God, and all that is required is our faith!

God has done such incredible things. Those who have thought themselves better and above all the rest

and overly proud in their achievements have been reminded of their place before God.

The Lord has taken those who abuse power and think themselves almighty and removed them from

their high thrones. The downtrodden have been lifted up out of the mud and have been given new

worth.

Those who are hungry, the Lord has fed with many good things, and those who are over-indulgent – God

has sent away empty.

God is present with the people, no matter how far they may stray from the path. There was a promise

made to our ancestors, and this child is the fulfillment of that promise.

But that promise is not coming true into a world that is beautiful and clean. My child is being brought

into a world filled with war and chaos.

My child is being born into a world full of sin.

My baby is being born into a world that will try to kill him.

Lord, please protect my baby. As you have been my guide and my solid place, so guide him. This is my

prayer to you.

Bond of Trust

There have been many responses to the shootings at Sandy Hook Elementary in the past week. I have been unable to process what happened, and I'm nowhere near being able to definitively say anything substantive. I find that when I am unable describe how I feel, it is helpful for me to turn to songs.

I love music, but I'm not that good at writing it. I rely on others to write the music, but I find myself typing out lyrics without a second thought. The only response I have been able to come up with in the light of such violence and despair is this hymn. I had in mind the Sacred Harp song Windham when I wrote it, but the scheme is 8.8.8.8., so it could be applied to other songs.

To me, it is a psalm of lament, but I found it ending on the basest form of hope I can find: God's presence in the midst of pain.

Bond of Trust

Our hearts and souls they seem to ache,

When we such horrors witness bear,

The bonds of trust they start to break,

Lives tossed aside without a care.

How can there be such senseless death?

Why must our tears so freely fall?

We cry to God with all our breath,

And hear no comfort when we call.

My hope on nothing seems to rest,

my strength begins to give away,

In all the pain I try my best,

But terror is what now holds sway.

Though stranded and alone we feel,

As though beyond all sort of aide,

Our Lord has promised presence real,

In pain and woe, when we're afraid.

To the Lord's presence tight I hold,

When nothing else have I to do.

Through the valley of shadow cold,

Only my God can pull me through.

©Matt Drumheller 2012

Reflection on Advent

As we draw closer to the end of this Advent season, I have been reflecting upon one aspect of the holiday season. At the beginning of this month my wife and I went out and bought a Christmas tree. After setting it up in its stand we spent a number of hours stringing lights onto the tree. As Christmas Day approaches, many people are putting up decorations around and inside their houses. One of the most popular decorations is strings of lights. These lights are often the classic yellow, but they are sometimes interspersed with all kinds of lights. Some people hang up stings of multi-colored lights. Some go so far as to hang up lights shaped as everything from elves to chili peppers. I find myself asking, “Why do we cover our houses, our yards, and our Christmas trees with lights?”

We have a fascination with light in general, but this fascination seems to increase during the Advent and the Christmas season. Lots of churches light candles in their worship spaces, counting down the weeks to the 25^th. Many churches also hold a candlelight Christmas Eve service, in which people turn the lights off in the sanctuary and raise their candles into the air, mesmerized by the spectacle. What is the deal with all of these lights?

A passage from Isaiah that is often read this time of year says, “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness – on them light has shined.” Light is extremely important in the Old Testament. Light is the first thing that God speaks into creation in Genesis 1. Before there is anything else, there is light. Maybe we are fascinated with light because it is rooted at the very beginning of our creation.

But this is not the only part of the Old Testament in which we find light. Light was taken away from the Egyptians in the 9^th plague while the Israelites were being held captive. A physical darkness which could be felt was experienced by the captors, while the Israelites had light before them.

The New Testament is also filled with light. A passage from the second chapter of Matthew is commonly read early in January. It describes the journey by wise men following a star to find the newborn king of the Jews. They follow a beacon of light through the darkness of night to try to find a source of hope. When they are unable to find this speck of light their path falters, but when the star appears again, they are lead to the child Jesus.

In the beginning of the Gospel of John verses 4 and 5 say, “And the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” Light language is used throughout the Gospel of John culminating in Jesus’ statement in chapter 8: “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life.”

All of these Biblical images of light tell us why we find light so important. It reflects and symbolizes the power of creation. It has been the hope for us since the beginning of time, even during times of deep trouble. Light became a metaphor to describe Christ, and Jesus spoke of himself as a light.

But why is this symbol so present for us at this particular time of year? It may be the experience that we in this hemisphere have in December. As the days grow colder we are reminded that it is truly becoming winter. We are approaching the winter solstice which occurs on December 21^st. The winter solstice marks the day in the year with the least amount of daylight. Perhaps this is one of the reasons light is such a strong symbol for us during Advent and Christmas. This is a time of year when it is barely light outside when we wake up, and it becomes dark before many of us eat dinner. Along with this season of short days comes cold weather. Maybe we long for light during this season of long, cold nights.

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light.” We are often people who walk in darkness because we experience darkness all of the time. But as Christmas approaches we begin to see and feel the light that is Jesus. This is where the calendar gets interesting. The length of daylight steadily decreases until the winter solstice. December 21^st has the shortest amount of daylight in the year, and this means that every day after the winter solstice the amount of light in the day increases steadily. It works out that this is when Christmas occurs: right we the light starts to overtake the darkness in number of daylight hours.

So it is that hope is found in the coming of Jesus during this holiday season. Although light may be significant for us because of the darkening days, we find that the hope this symbol brings with it in the birth of Christ is even more powerful. We face the darkness of winter, but God is going to become incarnate, light will break through, and the darkness will be overcome.