What's in a Day?

With the ice days this week, I've been given the gift of rearranged time. Not extra time, since all the work I miss while spending more time with my family will have to made up somewhere, but my days were definitely rearranged. Instead of heading into the office, hearing the busy, happy sounds of our Children’s Day Out, meeting with event planners and premarital couples, visiting the homebound and the hospitalized, and all the other moving parts of pastoral ministry, I've been at home.

And unlike some of my colleagues, who don’t have young children at home, my work has had to be put on hold for the most part. Even as a write this article, my 5-month-old son is asleep on my chest and I’m balancing the laptop on my legs while reaching around him to type. It’ll work for a while, until he wakes up, but my “productivity” is definitely down.

Instead, I've made painter’s tape spider webs with my 4-year-old and tossed cotton ball “flies” into it. I've taken naps with my baby. We painted toast and made cookies. It’s good stuff. The days slip easily by, with no one paying too much to the hours.

But there was one day, one 24-hour period, that changed the world. This year at the Krum Church, to observe the season of Lent, we are going to walk beside Jesus through the last 24 hours of his earthly life. Jesus is believed to have died at the age of 33.

And while the gospel writers devote most of their attention to the last 3 years of his life, each one devotes the most attention to the day he was crucified. The last 24 hours of Jesus’ life is the continuation of the love story between God and creation. God would take it upon God’s own self to lay down his life for our sake.

Beginning on Thursday evening after sunset, Jesus would eat the last supper with his disciples, pray in the garden of Gethsemane, be betrayed and deserted by his friends, be convicted of blasphemy by the religious authorities, be tried and sentenced for rebellion by Pontius Pilate, be tortured by Roman soldiers, and experience crucifixion, death, and burial.

When the apostle Paul summarized the gospel for the Christian community in Corinth, he said, “I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified.” The suffering, death, and resurrection of Jesus represent the heart of the gospel and the completion of God’s saving work.

This past Sunday, we started with the Last Supper. If you missed it, you can head over to our Facebook page (Krum First United Methodist Church) to watch a video. Through that meal, Jesus transformed the Passover Seder, the reminder of the Exodus and God’s central saving act for the Jews, into our Holy Communion, the reminder of Christ’s sacrifice and God’s central saving act for us.

This meal is how we remember the story of who we are and whose we are. And, if we let it, it can reshape our lives. Just as the Passover Seder moves those at the table from slavery to freedom, our Communion can move us from slavery under sin and death to freedom in Jesus Christ.

We all have stories that define us. Words spoken over us or about us come to become the voice within us, defining not only our past, but predicting our future. But instead of the hurts, injuries or insults we may cling to, God invites us to let Communion define who we are. Through it we remember that someone saved us. We remember that God, walking in human flesh, suffered and died for us to be free.

In breaking bread with his disciples, Jesus taught them one last time. He showed them his love. He gave them a meal by which they would remember him for the rest of their lives. And from that time on, every time Jesus’ disciples have shared this meal, it binds us together and reminds us that he is never far away.

This Sunday, we’ll continue on to the garden of Gethsemane. There the betrayal that Jesus had predicted over his last meal will come to past and his closest friends will desert him. It’s a dark day to keep pace with our Lord. But, if we let it, the gospel will continue to transform our lives. 

The Reality of Evil

A few years ago, a colleague of mine introduced me to NPR. Since then, I’ve gotten fond of feeling smarter when I get out of the car. Recently, I caught part of All Things Considered, featuring Emily Parker, the author of Now I Know Who My Comrades Are, as she explained how the Internet is changing activism. While the program itself was interesting, one quote resonated with me: “Fear, isolation, and apathy are the most effective weapons of authoritarian regimes.”

Beyond the intentional use of these tools by tyrannical governments, these same things are just a few of the ways that evil works in creation. While many folks are not quick to talk about evil, it is a reality that exists in our world. And we can’t fully appreciate the love and grace of God without measuring the height and depth of evil.

Some talk about evil in a personified way – the devil or Satan (from the Hebrew word ha’satan, which simply means “the accuser”). Others, myself included, tend to talk about evil as the accumulation of sin, personal and corporate, that has accumulated over time such that none of us get to start with a blank slate in this life.

Evil is insidious. To share a personal example, this week, I had to make a decision about an invitation from my conference, the regional body that oversees United Methodist churches. It was a great honor and something I have sincere interest in doing. However, there remains the little fact that the start of the training would fall right around my due date. I was divided. Did I decline for the sake of my family and potentially set my career back? Or did I commit to the training, pressing through the late stages of pregnancy and the sleepless nights as the mother of a newborn?

I ended up calling a trusted friend to hear my thoughts and help me figure out what I should do. And through our conversation, I saw clearly how I had resisted evil in one little way in my life. I overcame my fear of appearing weak or unambitious to discern what was truly right for me, what was truly life-giving and of God in this season of life. I refused to let myself be isolated, thinking that I had to make this decision alone without prayer and counsel.

Fear, isolation, and apathy affect us individually and corporately. The Wall Street Journal reported that recent voter turnout for federal elections in India reached 66%, or about 814 million people. In comparison, 57.5% of eligible voters in our country voted in the 2012 elections, which equates to 126 million people. It astonishes me that so many of us don’t vote when the right to vote was so contested and hard won for many. It’s apathy. It’s believing that our voice doesn’t matter. It’s withdrawing our gifts and graces from the larger body. And it’s not a way that leads to life.

These are only a few examples of things that can be the slippery slope, the seemingly innocent temptations, the habits of our minds, and the way evil can work in the world. This week, at the Krum Church, we’ll talk about how Easter people work the fields. I’m not much of a gardener or farmer, as any of my church folks can tell you, but I do believe that Jesus calls us to the fields.

For the past few weeks, I’ve also been out asking for donations or sponsorships for our Senior Breakfast. It’s a 50+ year tradition our church has of celebrating our graduating seniors. And I’ve been wonderfully surprised at the generosity of our community. In many cases, all I have had to do is ask and the gifts are given, cheerfully and willingly. But I have to work the fields. The gifts don’t come in unless someone asks.

As Christians, we are called to do the same. Jesus “said to them, ‘The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest’” (Luke 10:2). Our brothers and sisters are waiting for a word of good news, something that gives hope and life in the midst of fear, isolation, and apathy. We have been entrusted with the gospel, not to hoard, but to share and celebrate. Our friends, family, and neighbors don’t become part of the Body of Christ unless someone asks. May we all be good news to someone this week!