The City by the Bay is a special place and I have left my heart in San Francisco many times. With its distinct neighborhoods, hills, fog, enriching ethnic diversity, food, cable cars, bridges, and much more, the city exudes character and charm.
For a number of years I have enjoyed the Pier 39 area. Yes it is full of tourists and stores that sell things I have no interest in, but it is a blast to spend a few hours among the throngs of people. Since the Loma Prieta quake in 1989, it has also become the place to watch California Sea Lions up close.
For some reason, following the quake, the sea lion population grew tremendously in the Pier 39 location. Now dozens of sea lions flock to floating wood pallets strewn about in an area within the adjacent marina.
It is fascinating to simply sit and watch these creatures and the antics they engage in. From barking sounds to shoving matches, I can watch sea lions for hours. One thing, however, especially intrigues me.
Sea lions seem to like hanging out together on just a few pallets rather than spreading out among the many empty ones that are available. What is interesting is that dominant males spend hours pushing other males off the pallets they happen to be enjoying.
I have to wonder, why on earth don’t the males just spread out and have their own space? Why the fighting and territorial aggression? There is plenty of room and many pallets floating nearby with nothing but a gull or two on top.
Perhaps the sea lions are dealing with the age-old question, “Is there plenty to go around or is there barely enough so I better hold onto what I have and get even more?”
All of this reminds me of the great story in the Book of Exodus, chapter 16. The people are wandering around the desert, totally dependent upon God. God does provide, daily in fact. When the people take just what they need and nothing more, everything is fine. When others, however, try and hoard more than their share, the extras rot and become worm filled.
Although I have no clue why the sea lions behave the way they do, or why some people in the Exodus story had to pick up more than they needed, watching the seals and thinking about the Exodus story causes me to pay attention and ask questions about my own attitude about space and what I am accumulating.
Questions such as, “How much do I really need? Is there room for more than me? Can I take another person into account? How might I see this situation from the other person’s perspective, the one who has no place of his or her own? What might happen if I make room for the other?”
The sea lions, the story in the Book of Exodus, and our journey in faith all compel us, I believe, to explore where we are with possessions, assets, and space when it comes to others. I for one, need to spend some time with Jesus getting a clearer picture of what Jesus would have me do with regard to all of this, especially in a time when “me” is a much louder voice than “we.”
Jesus loved, healed, guided, transformed, forgave, and comforted. People flocked to him and traveled far and wide just to be near him. Broken people were not the same after encountering him.
But we are mistaken if we think that all of what Jesus had to say was easy to hear, reassuring, or validating. Jesus pushed buttons that needed to be pushed and often his most pointed words and difficult teachings were aimed directly at those who were the most religious and, on the surface, faithful.
Without a doubt, Jesus said and meant hard things sometimes. That said, his intent was never to destroy a person, but rather to use every way possible to bring the person back to the love of God, a right understanding of God, and to the right motives for actions.
One of Jesus’ hardest sayings is found in Luke, chapter 14. Here Jesus said to a large crowd, “If anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters—yes, even their own life—such a person cannot be my disciple.”
On the surface, Jesus’ words seem completely incompatible with what we know of Jesus throughout the Gospels. But if we want to understand what Jesus was getting at, we need to look at the word “hate” in Greek and what it means.
The Greek word used in Luke 14 is hate but hate to Greeks meant something vastly different than what it means to us in 2017. Hate in Greek has everything to do with priorities, what comes first, and what is loved more.
Jesus in essence was saying, “Love me more than your father, mother, wife, and children, then you will not only know what it means to follow me, but you will also end up loving people more as a result of doing so.” Or, “Love me the most and you will end up loving those who matter the most to you more.”
This teaching has nothing to do with rejecting anyone. It has everything to do with the path to loving human beings more than we might otherwise. The more we love God, the more we align ourselves with Christ, the more love becomes the essence of who we are, how we act, what we feel, and what we say.
I often use an image of a triangle to illustrate this point. Picture yourself on one on point of the triangle. Picture a close family member on another point. Finally picture God on the third point. As the two people move closer to where God is on the triangle, note the distance between the two people becomes smaller. The more Jesus is our priority and our first love, the more we will love others because by doing so, the more we will learn to love like God.
1977 was an eventful year. Gasoline was 65 cents per gallon. The new Apple computer cost a whopping 600 dollars, a lot of money especially in those days. I graduated from high school in southern California and the Eagles released some of their biggest hits. While there was much happening during this time on the world stage of great significance, something occurred that got many people in the country excited. The first Star Wars movie was released.
To this day I remember standing in a line blocks long at 6925 Hollywood Blvd. waiting to get a ticket for a showing at Graumans Chinese theater, the place in front of which you can see the footprints of John Wayne, Doris Day, and Charlton Heston to name just a few.
The first film was superb and represents a classic battle between good and bad, what is right and evil, light and darkness. With characters like R2-D2, Obi-Wan, and Princess Leia, the story line has captivated millions for decades. Like in the first movie, Darth Vader was a malicious character in the films that followed. In one film, Darth Vader said to Luke Skywalker, “If you only knew the power of the dark side.”
On one level such lines and the character of Darth Vader are entertaining and it should be left at that. On another level, the story like many stories reflect a reality we all live in the midst of, which is the constant conflict between God and evil, good and wrong, light and darkness. I am thinking about this because of what I encountered in a Target store the other day. The store had 4-foot tall, standing and talking Darth Vader characters up and down aisles.
While shopping, every time I passed a motion sensitive Darth Vader character it spoke a line from a Star Wars movie. The line I most often heard was “If you only knew the power of the dark side.” I must have heard the message 15 times throughout the store.
I am all for profit making, capitalism, marketing, etc. as many people are employed through selling movie related items. I do not believe in banning items from stores. There really is nothing too terrible about a 4 foot Darth Vader character. That said, the whole event at Target reminded me that we all, young and old alike, need to be attentive to whose voices we listen to and understand that there is an impact from every voice we hear, even those that are recorded.
Some messages we encounter are far from benign. While having a 4-foot Darth Vader character in the house could be entertaining for some, it also provides for reflection and teaching and praying about the reality of darkness in our world, a darkness that cannot overcome the light of Jesus.
I pray we will all give much more attention and energy to voices of light, voices that reflect the words of Jesus we encounter in the Gospels. And I pray we will do so whether shopping at Target, watching television, or overhearing the words of others we do not know.
The beginning of a New Year means different things to different people. Some seek to establish new resolutions or commitments. Others view the calendar change as a benign transition. Some welcome a new year with relief, others with heartache, and some with joy.
This New Year’s Day I happened to be in the town in which I spent my young years growing up, El Paso, Texas. While disliked by a lot of people because of the dry high desert location, the poverty that is prevalent, or the fact it is a border town in which over 90 percent of the population has a Hispanic name, I love it. It is real, authentic, and there is not a lot of room for pretense. Of course the food, culture and people are wonderful as well. El Paso is also a place in which two vastly different countries are completely interdependent in so many ways and this has been the case since the city was founded long ago.
But I also love El Paso because most of the old neighborhoods are full of so many childhood memories that sustain me and bring me great joy. It was a great place to be a young boy with lots of energy. On my recent trip, I took the opportunity, as I do each time, to reminisce with life-long friends.
Memories are so important. They give us a sense of where we have come from, serve as the basis for life lessons learned, provide for a sense of identity and internal cohesion, and often provide the fodder for getting in touch with life’s blessings. But memory itself can be such a poignant and painful topic especially when memory banks clear out and what a person remembers becomes more like an empty cold storage unit.
My mother who is 94, with whom I spent the New Year, lives in El Paso. Physically she is fine, but much of who she was is fading as her memory and ability to recall the who, what, when, where and why of her life vanishes. I know many of us go through this with our parents, but it hurts, is painful, and makes me along with many of you sad. I get it. That said, I have to wonder if diminishing memory is a blessing in some kind of way, especially when living in the ninth decade generally means most if not all friends are gone.
As I was hurting when 2017 began and was thinking about all of life’s memories, my faith interrupted my sadness when these words came to mind. “Remember, God is Immanuel. God is with us. Period.”
While the presence of Jesus does not take away heartache, it certainly frames it in a way that tells me in the end all will be well, to embrace each moment as an extraordinary gift, to cherish true wealth which has everything to do with family and friends, to live with a heart of gratitude knowing our ultimate destination is taken care of, and knowing when it is all said and done, loving God and people is all that matters.
My word for 2017 is Immanuel. And I pray that you too will remember that Jesus is within, all around, and working through all we can remember, and all that has faded away. Immanuel is with us and Immanuel is with those we love who look at us with a blank stare because his or her memory is gone.
On Christmas Eve this year, I suggested that when thinking of the signs of our times, it is easy to come up with a long list of negatives. There are a lot of bad things happening all over our world, really sad, tragic events.
Such things are often the sole focus of what we see, hear, or are exposed to. Although it is essential we don’t put our heads in the sand and instead respond to what is wrong through faith driven action, it is also vital to remember that solely looking at what is amiss leads to an extraordinarily skewed way of looking at things. The good is always happening in the midst of the bad.
What is most important to keep in mind as we roll into the year 2017 is that Jesus is fully present with us, continuing to lead, guide, teach, heal, forgive, challenge, and transform us, just as he did when he walked the desert sands of Israel.
The night before Jesus was crucified, he said something. He said, “I will not abandon you. I will come to you and later I will be in you. You will know that I am in the Father, and you are in me, and I am in you.”
Here Jesus says he not only will always be with us, but that he will be in us. And there is a clear sign this is the case.
Here is what we find in scripture. “God is love. All who live in love live in God, and God lives in them. If we love each other, God lives in us, and his love is brought to full expression in us…As we keep his command to love, we live deeply and surely in him and he lives in us. Love is how we experience his deep and abiding presence.”
In other words, love is the sign that Jesus Christ is alive and well, living in you and in me and in the midst of this messed up world. He continues to do now what he did way back then anytime love shows up.
God is love. Jesus, was God in the flesh. Want to be in touch with God, love. Want to find Jesus, love. Wonder where Jesus is, love. Love is the point. Love is the purpose. Love is the sign. Those places in our lives in which we love by what we do and by how we act, are the very same places we will encounter God.
God, who is love, is our constant companion and final destination.
There are few things in life that I like to indulge in more than a well-deserved nap in the sunshine. Imagine me in a post-Christmas week coma on the couch while my ENTIRE FAMILY was skiing/working out/working. Their absence in the house overlapped for a full 45 minutes today, meaning the house was totally quiet for the first time in two weeks (except for the occasional sound of dynamite blasts on Snowmass Mountain — which are weirdly comforting). I tried valiantly to seize the quiet, and sit down to write this blog for approximately 30 seconds before the couch had its way with me.
How about you, dear friends? What do you do to rejuvenate and refresh your soul? You need to, you know. I often live by the “you can sleep when you die” adage but it never works well for me or my soul. I need the fullness of a busy house brimming with the nearness of voices I love, and I also need the surprise of a peaceful sunny afternoon to be in my own head and heart. Not in equal measure, not tit for tat, but always in perfect balance.
Perhaps this explains my affinity for the Old Testament scripture in the Book of Ecclesiastes: “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens…. I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live. That each of them may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all their toil—this is the gift of God.” (Eccl. 1:1, and 12-13)
Finding satisfaction in my toil (and please know that it is my greatest joy to work for this church, so by “toil” I mean showing up and going all out with extraordinary people trying to connect to our awesome God) means finding time to balance it with the company of friends, a good glass of Cabernet, a hike in the woods, first tracks on a perfect powder morning or a noon groom in any kind of weather, and my go-to: a power nap in the sunshine. Naps are my BFF.
My wish for you this Christmas week is that wherever you are, whatever it is you are in the midst of, you find a moment to refresh your soul. It is, indeed, a gift from God.
It is hard to conceive that more than 5 decades have gone by since I was 5 years old. In one of my earliest memories I can picture myself, lying on my back, looking upward from the floor into the branches of a tall Christmas tree filled with colored lights and ornaments.
Although much time and people have passed since then, remembering Christmas time through the eyes of a child brings back moments of nostalgic delight, as I hope it does for you.
Oh if life were only so simple and whimsical. But we all know this is not the case because as we prepare for Christmas, there is more happening in our lives individually and collectively than childhood memories, charming characters in Children’s Classics, and fun, joy, and silliness.
In the midst of our many blessings and abundance, we each have unique challenges to confront. On top of that, we live in the midst of a very troubled world. A world with much that is good, and right, and true, for sure, but a humanity that is burdened by the consequences of misused and misguided free will.
As I think about this, I believe there is something that most if not all of us are seeking. Something internally we know we need. Something that is truly wonderful and life giving. Something we understand is vital to our well-being during the worst and best of times.
I sense so many of us are craving a deep sense of connection. Connection with ourselves. Connection with others. And connection with God. The birth of Jesus, I believe, that shows us a pathway to the connectedness and meaningful relationships with others and God we seek.
God could have arrived with launch codes in hand that would turn any opposition into dust particles and glass. God could have come in a state of wrath and furry with carpet-bombing in mind as a way to deal with things. God could have joined us in the flesh as a suave, good looking, quick witted, wealthy chap in a Ferrari with a blond or brunette beauty by his side.
But God didn’t. Instead he showed up as a baby, naked. Naked with nothing in hand but total and complete dependency on those around Him. Jesus arrived on scene in the most astonishingly vulnerable way possible. But why?
I believe God chose, in part, to come to us as a naked, living, breathing, dependent baby to teach us something. That something. To show us what vulnerability is all about and that vulnerability is the key to a life of joy and purpose, and ultimately the path to connectedness with ourselves, others, and God. You see, the more vulnerable we are willing to be, the more connected we become.
The path to connectedness is a willingness to be vulnerable, to risk being who we really are, not who we think we need to be, to share what is within the deep recesses of our souls, and to be real and authentic.
God put it all on the line for us when He joined us in a state of utter vulnerability as a baby. He took the first step to connect with us so that we would not have to make the first move toward Him. While we may not be in a place in which we are prepared to be vulnerable with others or even ourselves, Jesus says it is safe to bring all of ourselves to Him no matter what.
You see, Jesus put Himself as a baby into the lap of humanity, so that we would come to the place we’d be willing to put ourselves in His.
With love and prayers – Robert +
So as many of you know Tim and I had the last of our three kids fly the nest in the fall. In the span of three weeks last August, I teared up when Nick drove away for Laughlin Air Force Base with everything he owned in the back of a short-bed pickup; I sobbed the night before Ben left for a year of study abroad; and I hugged tight so as to disguise my tears in Anna Kate’s newly decorated dorm room while a bevy of girls awkwardly looked on. And then faster than you can say road trip, we were on the move. In the words of my sweet daughter to our oldest son, “Mom and dad are enjoying their empty nest just a little too much.”
And maybe it’s precisely because of all the bittersweet goodbyes combined with the playful fun of the newly realized empty nest that I am so ready for them all to be home for the holidays. Some waiting is like that. It has us brimming with excitement of something wonderful that is just beyond our reach.
As I reflect on this season of Advent, this season of waiting, I know that joyful anticipation is only one way to wait. Some waiting, on the other hand, is excruciating. Sometimes waiting is a burden that carries with it fear of the unknown, sadness that things aren’t as they used to be, regret over unfinished business, unmended relationships, things still left undone. If you are in a season of waiting that leaves you more anxious than eager, bless you. It’s a hard place to be.
But the beauty of Advent — the hope of Advent — is that even in our waiting, He is with us. Emmanuel. God is with us in the suffering and sadness, the fear and unknowing, the weariness of a warring world, the pain and the ache and the deep dark nights of our souls. Sometimes — often — we don’t know it until we are out the other side of whatever it is we are enduring. But our not knowing doesn’t change what is. God is the alpha and the omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end. Make no mistake about it, God is present. WE are often unaware, my friends, but God is NEVER not with us, right smack in the middle of it all.
And so we wait. Not always joyfully, and sometimes with a shaky faith. But we wait and we hope and we wonder at the magnificent plan of it all. We do our best to offer kindness and gratitude and love, and we live with the hope that God’s coming will offer a Light to the world that we can’t even begin to imagine.
As we wait this Advent for the coming of the babe in the manger, may we also know beyond a shadow of a doubt that even now in this very moment, bidden or unbidden, He is here.
We are now in the midst of the Advent Season, a time in which we hopefully pay more attention to our walk with Jesus. It is during these weeks that millions of people will put up Christmas decorations of all kinds in a variety of settings. Whether done with secular intention or not, the lights, wreaths, and ornaments around the community serve to remind me to pause and focus on what it means that God dared to come among us in the flesh.
Since I was a young boy, my family has set up a crèche each Advent season. Each year, as I set each piece up, I reflect not only upon the stories of those represented, but people who have been so important to me in my family and life journey.
Last week, my husband, Tim, and I had the privilege of watching the Christ Church Regatta, which is a series of races by eight-man crew teams from all of the colleges at Oxford. (Ok, proud mom side note: our son, Ben, is on the Keble College crew team while studying at Oxford this year. Whaaaat in the heck?!!!) There were 65 teams competing over the two days, including one new to me: Jesus College, or Jesus for short.
The Jesus College Boat Club’s official motto is “Walking on Water Since 1815” and the team’s t-shirts read, “Jesus: Believed in by 2.2 billion people.” Clearly they have fun with their name. But the best part for me as I stood on the banks of the River Thames was the occasional cheer that would echo across the water: “Come on Jesus! Go Jesus! You got this Jesus!!!!!” It was so startling at first and I couldn’t help but smile.