Know that as you leave the Chapel grounds this morning and walk across the bridge and go back out into the world that our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ goes with each and everyone of you. Let him lead you the quiet places of your heart where he will speak with you. Know that he loves you and listens to you with a gentle understanding, and know that he is with you always, wherever you are, whatever you’re feeling, whatever it is you might be enduring. And may God’s blessing and joy and peace and strength remain within each and every one of you now and always. Amen.
God knows that I can be a slow learner. He knows that I need to be reminded of the simple things just like that silly sheep that needs to be guided back to the stream. That’s what I like most about Robert’s benediction (above)— it reminds me of the simple truth that Jesus is with me always and it’s ok to cross the bridge… but that doesn’t mean that crossing the bridge will be easy. Life transitions and changes always seem to be challenging. However, they offer us a chance to take a second and look in the “rear-view” mirror. There’s something about looking back that allows me to see God’s footsteps more closely and his actions more clearly. In part, I am writing you to tell you that I am crossing a bridge in life. In June, I will be starting a season with the Youth Recovery Center as a therapist (don’t worry! I’ll still be working at the Chapel part-time). However, I also want to share what I am seeing in my rearview mirror as I reflect on the last three years at Snowmass Chapel.
Listen to the kids. I think most of the teachers reading this will know what I mean when I say the kids have as much to teach as they do to learn. When I read about the times that Jesus spent with children I think about how much fun He must have been having with them. One of my responsibilities at the Chapel has been to teach quite a few Sunday school lessons. In teaching these I find that I’m consistently impressed by the depth inside and the wisdom our little ones have. Their honesty and authenticity is continually challenging to me. I love the way children live without having their guards up. They simply are who they are and need not to pretend to be someone else. This has served as an example for me in my walk with Jesus. Thank you children of the Chapel.
Jayla and I hadn’t lived in the Village long before we had heard someone tell us to “trust your edges!” The whole idea of having long skinny things strapped to your feet while flying down the hill without a semblance of stability and trusting the thinnest and smallest part of the ski seemed like nonsense to me. Although it took me a long time to feel the confidence that comes from well-tuned edges, when I did I felt like a whole new world opened up. It’s a little ironic how skis require you to lean in and trust them before they’re really trustworthy. Similarly, I found that the further I lean into Jesus’ embrace, the more security I feel in it. The wisdom found in this silly skiing analogy has pushed me to challenge myself to walk through times that were uncomfortable, but just like trusting edges up on the hill opens up new terrain, trusting God in this way opens up a whole new lens for you to see the world. I challenge you all to trust your edges a little more everyday.
Before I came to the chapel I think most of the so-called communities I had been a member of were built out of common worldviews. What I mean is that those communities were made up of people who all happen to see certain issues the same way or believe certain things were true. One of my favorite things about the Chapel is the different perspectives that make up our community. I now feel like community is richer and much more fulfilling when you have diversity of thought, actions, and life experience. I love that we have seasonal employees that come from everywhere, second home owners that bounce in and encourage us all, and a real diversity of locals who live here. We may not all have exactly the same doctrine or the same political viewpoints but I love coming together and worshiping with you all on a Sunday morning. I’m thankful I’ve been able to be a part of this body with you all and experience the joy of having all the differences in one place worshiping the same Creator.
I think it was my second summer here that a friend of mine asked if I would be willing to help him pack out an elk if he got one during hunting season. He was new to hunting, so I figured it was a low-risk promise to agree. Little did I know, he would get a large mule deer and an elk in the same season… I also didn’t know just how large a fully grown Colorado elk could be! Somewhere between all of the many trips up and down the mountain I started thinking about how special it is to walk beside someone helping them carry a load. I think about when Jesus talked about His yoke being easy and His burden light I think about the grace He offers us and the freedom from the weight of all the ways that we are incomplete and all the ways that I do life halfway. I feel that freedom with you all at the Chapel because I feel free to be authentically myself. At many points you all have helped me carry my burdens and hopefully I have helped you carry a couple myself. However, more importantly I have been reminded by you all and by this community that it’s simply not my job to carry these burdens. Sometimes I need this to be reminded to me daily. I challenge you to ponder the burdens you’re carrying that Jesus says you don’t need to carry. Think about the things that weigh you down that you could be sharing with your Community of Faith. Then maybe try taking something out of your backpack… you’ll like the way it feels.
It’s All About Love. If you spent any time in and around the Chapel you’ve heard about love. You’ve heard about the passage in Matthew 22 that says to love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul with all your mind. I hope that if you look closely you’ve seen that love in action. If you’re like me you’ve seen people give up chunks of their life to become Stephen ministers. You’ve seen people give up first tracks on powder days to come greet and welcome others into this community of faith and love. You’ve seen people sit and visit with others not because they have nothing better to do, but because someone else sat and listened to them when they needed it most. You’ve seen people give sacrificially so this Chapel could exist (and so that I had a job where I could focus on students, not funding). You’ve seen people be little Christs to each other. Only God could dream this stuff up. This Great Commandment is so simple that a child can understand it but so challenging that it may take your whole lifetime to pursue it. I don’t know about you all, but a lifetime pursuing what it means to love our God with all our hearts, with all our souls and with all our minds and to love our neighbor as ourselves, sounds like a life well-lived.
I want to thank you all for being a part of my Snowmass Chapel family. I want to thank you for teaching me all these lessons. I want to thank you for reading my rambling writing, and I want to thank you for loving me as yourself.
Years ago I wanted to get into shape. I said to family and friends, “I am going to get in shape. Being in shape is important to me. My health matters for many reasons.” Days passed. So did weeks. Even several months. My mantra was the same, “I am going to get in shape.” I soon realized that despite my words, I was not serious about my physical health, had I been, I would have exercised. Clearly being in shape did not mean much to me as my words and actions did not match.
This is a trivial metaphor of something tragic about America. We say we care for children, we say we love our children, we say children are important, but reality does not match what we say out loud. Millions of children are hungry. Millions do not receive adequate medical care. Millions do not have access to mental health care. Millions are in deficient academic environments. Millions suffer from abuse and neglect. And what is completely shocking is that every child in America could be killed any day in any neighborhood while sitting in a classroom. Twenty-two shootings have occured this year alone in America’s schools.
A February, 2018 NY Times article states, “Since a gunman killed 20 first graders and six adults with an assault rifle at Sandy Hook Elementary School in 2012, there have been at least 239 school shootings nationwide.”
Frankly, I am grieving not only the horrendous loss of life, but I am not proud that our nation does not care about children. If we did, the facts would be different. Elementary school children would not be slaughtered.
Caring for children will only happen when we and those in leadership positions are willing to be apolitical and put all and every option on the table for how to be a nation that cares about kids. Are there people that care? Yes. Are there great parents? Yes. Are there great ideas and programs out there based on those ideas happening? Yes. But as a nation, we have failed and are failing every child as long as there is hunger, as long as schools are danger zones, and as long as all the issues harming our children continue.
I am shattered when I talk to kids and drills for active shooters are part of their vocabulary. I am embarrassed to be part of a nation that is so incredibly uncaring and instead so agenda and partisan driven. I am horrified by the fact that my children have to worry about being shot every day they go to a campus.
As a religious leader I believe we need a national time of repentance. A time of listening and being honest. The facts speak for themselves. I am sick to my stomach over the state of children in America for the reasons I have outlined.
I am praying diligently about all of this and asking the Holy Spirit to guide and lead me to do something, somehow about caring for kids. And frankly I feel convicted that to date, I have not been part of the solution. Please join me in prayer. Pray that God will intervene and that each of us will be willing to put everything on the table and to shed our divisive partisan views with regard to our kids.
We overcame the evils of the Axis powers as a nation in the 1940’s and we did so because all Americans had the same goal in mind. We need such a shared vision and passion if we are going to say we care for children with any sincerity.
Do people change? And perhaps more importantly, can people change? I think these are important questions because as I look around our world right now and listen to the news, I sure hope and pray transformation is possible for all human beings.
When I hear stories about parents hurting their own kids, or company executives squandering their employees’ pensions, or see people making a villain out of someone with whom they disagree, my prayer indeed is that people can change. When I see how ugly partisanship has become, or how opioids are taking over neighborhoods, or how some people treat others based on nationality, skin color, or religious orientation, I hope people can change. When I see scenes from the streets of Damascus, or hungry people on the Gaza strip, or scared looking faces in towns across the Golan Heights, I ponder whether things will ever be different.
Frankly, I not only hope that circumstances and people can change, but I pray I can too. As long as I have lived I have understood that change and transformation is not only what I seek, but what I pray for in various areas of life. But I know I am not alone in this. Most of us, if honest with ourselves, I believe have at least some dimensions, aspects, or ways of being we’d like to change or morph into something different.
And I think many of us would like to trust the words of scripture on this whole topic of transformation and change. Words like, “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.” Or, “Behold, God is doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” For sure, scripture is full of verses and stories of people changing and becoming something new.
As I am out and about, I often hear people express a lack of optimism that people can change or that things can be different in a meaningful way. And when we are hurt by others or endure tough things in life, sometimes our scars make new beginnings difficult at best.
A week ago today was Ascension Day. The Bible tells us that Jesus was crucified and that He died. His body was then taken to a tomb. On the third day, His followers discovered that Jesus had been bodily raised from the dead. 40 days later Jesus ascended into heaven.
However Ascension Day looked or however it was experienced by those there, what it means is that after Jesus was raised from the dead, and after appearing, teaching, and speaking to over 500 people on various occasions for 40 days, the visible Jesus went to be with God. Ten days after Jesus’ Ascension, the day of Pentecost occurred. Pentecost was the time that Jesus sent His Holy Spirit among human beings that would change the course of the early church and it is that same Holy Spirit that continues to transform our lives right now.
And it is immediately before His ascension that Jesus says something important that is recorded in the Book of Acts, chapter 1.
Jesus said, “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you.” You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you. It is important to point out that the Greek word for power that is used in the Book of Acts in this verse is the word dynamis. Dynamis means power.
There are a variety of meanings of the word dynamis or power. As several people note, “dynamis means to be able to do something, to will, to have great ability, and possibility. It means having the power that leads to healing and to have the spirit of love and self-control. It conveys having the strength of God.”
Also note that our word dynamite comes from the word dynamis. While dynamite is strong and destructive, it pales in comparison to the power and healing of dynamis, or the power of God. The power that Jesus says lies within you and within me right now. Dynamis is in you and me. And I think that is Dynamite.
On Ascension Day, Jesus did not say to his followers, “Depend on yourself. Do it on your own. Live life through your own power.”
Instead Jesus said, “When you are muddling your way through life, remember that I am plugged into you. My power is within you. My dynamis surrounds you. And it is my power, the Holy Spirit, that will enable you to overcome, to move beyond, to heal, and surmount any difficulty you encounter.” Jesus also made it clear to his first followers that day that it would be his power, his dynamis that would empower them to go out into the world and spread the news of God’s unbounded healing love for all people.
In essence, on Ascension Day, Jesus said to His followers and I believe says to each of us now, “Never say never. Never say I will never recover. Never say I will never get it. Never say I will never learn. Never say I can never change. Never say my life can’t be different. Never say transformation, a new path, a new beginning, a new way of living in being is not possible in this life.” Jesus wants us to remember to plug into His power.
I love what one person writes about Ascension Day. She writes, “When Jesus spoke that day what he was saying was, ‘Believe in my goodness more than in your own badness. Have more faith in my power to make things new than in your own power to mess things up.’”
God never created us to function without being plugged into Him and His power. I pray that none of us will give up hope and that we will remember that change, transformation and new beginnings happen through the power of Christ that is within you and me.
There is a powerful image I first heard in the Alpha program that has stuck with me for years. It is an image that represents well what is happening at the Chapel. The image is told in the following short story that I’ve adapted a bit.
There once was a woman who felt that life was meaningless. She struggled finding purpose in her days and the faith that she once had felt empty. In her mind she believed in God but her heart was just not there. When she was faced with challenges, she tried to pray, but it often felt as if there was no one listening. One cold winter day she went to her pastor and described what was going on. He was glad to see her as she had not been seen for many months.
It just so happened when she met with her pastor that they met in a room with a roaring fireplace. As she began to share what was going on in her life, the pastor took some fireplace tongs and removed a red hot glowing ember from the fire and set it on the hearth. Over the minutes that followed as she continued talking, she noticed that the ember turned black as it cooled. Sometime later when she had finished telling her story, the pastor took the cool black ember and returned it to the fire. When he did so, the ember immediately heated up, turned red, and flamed back to life.
At that moment, the woman realized that she had been like the ember. She had taken herself away from the warmth, love, heat, and fire of Christian community and as a result her faith and trust in God had cooled. She now understood that to have a strong resilient faith that she had to get back into and be a part of her community.
As I think about this story, I think about the community that Snowmass Chapel is, a place for people from all lots of life. From the visitor, to the second homeowner, to the local who has been here 30 years, this is an amazing community and one in which people are being reignited with faith, trust in God, and a great care and love for each other. If you or someone you care about is in a place of being like a cool black ember, remember the fire of the Chapel. A fire that is here 24/7 waiting to warm and sustain you, whatever has been happening in life. And through it all, remember that the source of the fire is the unbounded love of God in Christ Jesus, a love we are all called to share with those who need it the most.
Have you ever heard a voice in your head that is hard to ignore and lets you know that something is up. The voice that says something is missing in your life or that things could be better? Well if you have, it means not only that you are part of the human race, but serves as a reminder that something is up and going on within.
Such a voice can mean a variety of things. It can mean that God is trying to get our attention. That we are not using our gifts to their potential or that our lives are out of balance in some way. That we need to get healthy through what we eat and how we exercise. That we need to work on communicating with other people more effectively or constructively. That we need to spend more time with our children or aging parents. That we have some unresolved stuff going on inside. It might even mean we would benefit from some therapy to work through some painful issue or struggle.
But when we hear that voice in our head that tells us that something is missing, we had better pay careful attention and be very cautious before taking action, because acting on such a feeling without checking it out can get us into a heap of trouble. You see, sometimes when we feel that something is missing, there really is nothing missing at all. Sometimes we feel this way because we have caught a very nasty bug. And this bug will lead us astray and mess us up if we are not attentive. This bug has a name. Perfectionism.
A quick caveat before continuing. Having goals, seeking higher standards, going after success, striving for financial security, desiring to be more healthy, wanting more of something in some area of life are obviously not necessarily bad things and may not reflect perfectionism. Such things may simply reflect we are motivated and reflect our knowledge we need to work on something to bring about a positive change. And I hope we each are motivated in various areas of our daily lives. But motivation and positive change is not what I am talking about.
With this caveat in mind, however, I do believe that some of the times when we think that something is missing in life it is because we are consumed by perfectionism in some area of our life. We think we are not making enough money. We feel like our current partner is not the right one. We live in a bad climate and are certain that life in a warmer one would be naturally better. We begin to blame others or ourselves and then we act.
We switch jobs to make more money, change partners to obtain greater bliss, or move to the warmer place expecting that 15 degrees will make all the difference. But often when we are in the new job, infatuated with the new partner, or basking in the sun, we discover that the nagging feeling that something is missing is still with us. And the perfection seeking cycle repeats itself again and again.
As a result, take classes, read books, and chat with friends in the exercise class looking for ways to fix what seems out of whack, and our search continues. And I believe that when we think something is missing, it may very well be the call to not change a thing, but rather to give others and ourselves a break and simply accept who and what we are. Sometimes when we believe we are falling short in some way, it really means we need to lighten up. Brennan Manning in his book the “Ragamuffin Gospel,” says, “The trouble with our ideals is that if we live up to all of them, we become impossible to live with.”
Then there is another person who wrote, “We are not perfect, but neither is there anyone out there more perfect than we are. What a pleasure this realization is. We are not more and no less than wonderfully ordinary, imperfect mortals. So why not give [others] and ourselves a break? Why not celebrate our blemishes, our imperfections, as the very qualities that make us human?…We all have a fault line, and usually one with many branches…Instead of apologizing, we can choose to enjoy ourselves just as we are, no upgrades necessary.”
But there is another problem with perfectionism with other troubling consequences. When we seek perfection, we not only diminish others, and ourselves, but we end up closing the door in God’s face. When we go for perfection, we stop looking for God, because who needs God when we believe that ultimate power and perfection is to be found within.
When we seek our own perfection, we become blinded to what God can do in our lives, and cease entertaining the idea that God at times does amazingly new and creative things in unpredictable new ways.
I love what Brennan Manning writes. He said, ““When I get honest, I admit I am a bundle of paradoxes. I believe and I doubt, I hope and get discouraged, I love and I hate, I feel bad about feeling good, I feel guilty about not feeling guilty. I am trusting and suspicious. I am honest and I still play games. Aristotle said I am a rational animal; I say I am an angel with an incredible capacity for beer. To live by grace means to acknowledge my whole life story, the light side and the dark. In admitting my shadow side I learn who I am and what God’s grace means. As Thomas Merton put it, ‘A saint is not someone who is good but who experiences the goodness of God.’”
He goes onto write, “While there is much we may have earned–our degree and our salary, our home and garden, a Miller Lite and a good night’s sleep–all this is possible only because we have been given so much: life itself, eyes to see and hands to touch, a mind to shape ideas, and a heart to beat with love. We have been given God in our souls and Christ in our flesh. We have the power to believe where others deny, to hope where others despair, to love where others hurt. This and so much more is sheer gift.”
One person who came to understand all of this was St. Paul. Paul was born into a Jewish family. He was sent to a famous rabbinical school in Jerusalem. He was immersed in the deep study of scripture. By the year 35, Paul was a self-righteous Pharisee and he was rabidly anti-Christian. Paul’s mission in life was to eliminate and punish his fellow Jews who were followers of Jesus. But one day Paul met the Risen Jesus and everything changed.
Paul then knew first hand that life is not about our perfection, but about God’s. He was clear that faith has less to do with getting it right and everything to do with God’s grace. Paul also understood that when people strive for perfection, it inhibits them from accepting their own weaknesses and their need for a power greater than themselves. Self-prescribed perfect people don’t understand the need for a savior.
And what often upset people about Paul, was when he told the people that if they would stop taking themselves so seriously, they might just start taking God more seriously.
Growing up in the desert Southwest, I was exposed to lots of Native American literature, art, and rugs. The Navajos are fascinating people and one of the most interesting characteristics of Navajos is that they frequently did not complete things, whether it was a basket, a blanket, a song, or a story. It is not because they were lazy, it was because they never wanted anything to be too perfect.
If something was too close ended or perfect, they believed it cramped the spirit of the creator and sapped the energy of life away. When Navajos created anything, they often would leave little gaps or imperfections in their work. To them, perfection was suffocation.
It is amazing what Navajos did when they made beautiful blankets. When creating them, they frequently left a slight imperfection in the weaving. Often this took the form of a single thread that originated from the center of the blanket and extended all the way to the edge. The Navajos called this imperfection in their blankets a spirit thread or spirit outlet. They believed such a thread gives the creator room to breathe and to create and serves as a reminder that only God is perfect.
Perhaps that is how God designed us. Beautiful, yet imperfect. And maybe God made us this way so that we would have room for Him. Room for Him to act in our lives. Room to create, to transform, to guide, to lead, and to heal. Room not so much for predictability, but surprise.
Maybe He created us as beautiful, yet imperfect beings so that we would hopefully come to the place that we realize that we need a savior. And maybe He created us as beautiful, yet imperfect so that we would learn to give other people a break and to lighten up with our expectations.
As I wrap up today, I’d like to invite us each to do something. And that is anytime we hear a voice in our head telling us that something is missing, perhaps we can pause for a moment and think about the fact that you and I both are like a Navajo blanket. Beautiful, yet imperfect, just as God made us.
Like those blankets, we too have a spirit thread coming from the center of who we are. A thread that reminds us not only of who we are, but who it is that put us together. I pray that that that thread, our imperfections, help us remember that Jesus Christ is not finished with us yet, nor anyone else who annoys us with their imperfections.
And let us all remember as Brennan Manning wrote, “Jesus comes not for the super-spiritual but for the wobbly and the weak-kneed who know they don’t have it all together, and who are not too proud to accept the handout of amazing grace.”