July 28, 2021

“Aren't you worried?” – Question posed to me by a parishioner about my upcoming surgery

The genesis of that question was her telling me that she was going to need foot surgery to repair some damage. This would necessitate being in a large boot, followed by a smaller boot, followed by a special shoe (at least I think those were the steps). She mentioned that she was really quite nervous about the whole procedure. Somewhere in there she remembered that I was having surgery next week and wondered how I could be so calm.

First of all, I am confident that my surgeon will do a good job. He is well-respected in his field, and the current damage was not a result of anything he did wrong last time.

Second, I've discovered in life that there are certain times when it doesn't pay to worry. For me, this is one of them. I'll go in early next week, get into one of those ridiculous hospital gowns, go to sleep, and wake up (hopefully) new and improved, and without the pain, agony, and extended stay of last time.

But all of us have different thresholds of worry. I don't worry about getting on an airplane and crashing, but I do worry about roller coasters – to the extent that I won't ride one (even though the odds of dying in a plane crash are 1/188,364, compared to a roller coaster at 1/750,000,000).

Both Matthew and Luke give us passages where Jesus tells us not to worry. “Do not worry about what you will eat or wear. Can any of you add a single hour to your life by worrying about these things?”

I don't think this means going through life with a Pollyanna attitude. I do think, however, that we understand whether or not our fears or worries are rational or not. If they're irrational, we may or may not be able to overcome them. If they're rational, what are we doing to address them?

I'm not worried about my back surgery next week. But here are some things I do worry about: will we ever get to a place where people care enough about others to wear a mask and get vaccinated; will we have the fortitude to address the root causes of homelessness; will we ever honestly address systemic racism; will we get to the point where those in leadership and/or positions of power are held responsible for crimes; will we begin celebrating financial achievements that focus on feeding/housing those in need rather than rocket rides to space; will we ever love others as we think God loves us?

Do not worry about what you will eat or wear; instead, worry about how you may help to manifest the kingdom of God here on earth as it is in heaven.

Blessings,

July 21, 2021

“You lived in Montana. How did you do it?” – Question posed to me by one of the J2A teens as we flew over Montana.

When the question was asked, I thought maybe he had fallen into the old trap of thinking people in Montana (and the West, for that matter) still had to hunt and gather food, fight off hostile attacks, and rub two sticks together to make fire. So I cautiously answered him, “Ummm . . . in a house . . .”

“No, I mean, there's nothing out there. How did you do it?”

He had lived his whole life here in the eastern US. He had been camping to get away from it all, or as part of a Boy Scout week. But those were times away and temporary. Flying over the vast, mostly empty plains of the Dakotas and eastern Montana, the question bubbled up in his mind, “How could anyone actually live there?” So he asked the only person he knew who had actually done it.

Granted, I lived in a town of 700, with Dillon (pop. 4,200) only about 40 minutes around the mountain, Butte just an hour up the road, and Bozeman about 90 minutes from home. So it wasn't quite like living in Birney (pop. 106), as there were other places more remote. But he now had some idea of PLACE when I said I lived in Montana for six years.

This reminded me of the book Dakota, by Kathleen Norris. In that book she talks about living in western North Dakota and all that entails. There's a part in the book where she says, “But people do live here, and many of them will tell you in all honesty that they wouldn't live anyplace else . . . People will ask, 'How do you do it?'” That teenager was asking me the same question that Ms. Norris recorded people asking.

The answer she gives to that question is that people want to be there. You can't live in a town of 106, or 450, or 700 with limited resources and hours until the next big city unless you want to live there. The answer to that teen was that, for 6-1/2 years, I wanted to live there.

As I thought about this – both the question on the plane and the quote from Dakota – I realized that we may or may not want to be where we are. We may be somewhere because that's where our parents live, or that's where the job is, or that's where the spouse needs to be, or whatever. But wanting to be in a place makes being there more of a good thing than not.

We are all in both different places and the same places. What are some good things about the place you are that bring you joy or solace or excitement? What are some things you see or feel that can make you say, “I want to be here.”

If we can focus on the good, we will be able to more readily say, “This is a good place. I want to be here.”

Blessings,

July 14, 2021

For God so loved the world that he sent WWIII – Yehezkel Landau, quoted in, The Rapture Exposed, by Barbara Rossing

I'm leading a Sunday afternoon bible discussion via Zoom on the Book of Revelation (1 pm Eastern, Meeting ID 818 4372 6716, Passcode 157085). We are just finishing the letters to the seven churches, will do a little review, take a break during August, and then resume again come September. If you haven't been with us, you are welcome to join anytime.

As we read through this book there are bizarre images of rampaging locusts, stars falling from heaven, seas boiling, devouring dragons, and so much more. These images have been used over the years to (incorrectly) predict the end of the world and the punishment of evildoers. End times “scholars” have used Revelation as an authoritative road map of what must take place to ensure the return of Jesus. These interpretations have weaseled their way into politics and have been used to help create laws and policies on everything from the environment to the Middle East.

Another aspect that people who look to Revelation as a guide to the future seem to have is a gleeful enjoyment of destruction and punishment. The Left Behind series revels in violence and the death and destruction of all those who don't hold the same beliefs as the main characters/authors. There is no need to care for the environment if all the good people are going to be magically whisked away.

But what those “scholars” and others who read Revelation as an end-times road map miss is that the overall message of that book is one of hope, not of despair. It is one of creation, not of destruction.

What would it look like if we all began reading scripture as a book of hope for God's creation rather than as a book of power, revenge, and exceptionalism? What would it look like if we all stopped looking for ways that God will execute our enemies and began looking for ways to see how God loved the world?

Our first step is to begin pointing out that those who use Revelation as a road map to the end times were wrong in 1843, 1844, 1994, 2011, 1988, 1910, 1813, 2015, and will be wrong again.

The next step is to begin seeing scripture not as a book of condemnation, death, and destruction, but as a book that shows God trying to reconnect with his creation, a book of life, and a book of creation.

I've often been asked, “Are these the end times?” My answer is always the same: These are the end times for somebody.

As we encounter people in all stages of life, let us offer our scripture and our faith as places of hope, not of despaire.

Blessings,

July 7, 2021

Several years ago my good friend Jane and I took a road trip from our homes in Montana down to Salt Lake City for a seminar entitled, “Preaching the Land,” or something like that. While I can't remember the exact title of the event, I do remember that it revolved around land and geology and how to incorporate that into sermons.

I won't go into all the details of those several days other than to say that land and geology are more important than you might originally think – remember all those times that Jesus was out on the water, or in the wilderness, or on a mountain. The words he speaks are important, but the places in which he speaks them are also important.

I was reminded of that this past week as I flew with Joelene and four members of J2A out west. I was reminded that place and geology are important as we flew by 14,410' Mt. Rainier and the massive post-eruption crater of Mt. St. Helen's. I was reminded of it as we gazed at Mt. Hood from Portland and visited the waterfalls of the Columbia Gorge. I was reminded of it as we drove the coastal highway of US 101 and walked by Haystack Rock, the third largest inter-tidal monolith in the world. All of these are the land of where I'm from and they are a part of who I am.

But Jesus didn't speak to an empty landscape; Jesus spoke to the people who lived in those various places. He spoke to sea-going fishermen and land-locked shepherds. He spoke to tax collectors in the cities and to farmers out in the country. I was reminded of that as we arrived home early Sunday morning and saw our teens reunited with their parents. I was reminded of it at a carillon concert where people gathered together to hear beautiful music. I was reminded of that during a 4^th of July party where people gathered and hugged, ate and laughed, played games and shared stories.

I have lived in a variety of places during my time as a priest – from the Rocky Mountains of southwest Montana to the river valleys of southern Oregon to now here on the east coast. Through it all I keep coming back to this: while the place shapes the people, it is the people who make the place.

I enjoyed my trip out west to some of the places that shaped me; but I'm also very glad to be back home among people who do their best to exhibit the love of Christ in the places around them.

The place of Saint John's shapes its people, but it's the people of Saint John's that makes the place. May we be reminded of these two important pieces as we continue to move forward in the reopening/regathering process and as we continue to work to invite people into this special place where they can both be shaped by it and help to make it a place worth being.

Blessings,