Joseph's Dreams are Crazy!

The Genesis passage which details Joseph’s dreams is well known.  I’ve read it, or heard the story told in countless different ways, over and over again, spanning decades of life.  I do not think it was until this morning that I exclaimed, “This is crazy!”

“Hey family!  My wheat is greater than yours…  And the sun, moon, and stars?  They’re (you’re) going to bow down to me!”

No wonder Joseph’s brothers were a little miffed…

If you know the continuing story of Joseph, you also know it takes many twists and turns before it resolves in any kind of redemptive way, but I don’t want to jump ahead… It’s good reading for the coming week…

So, let’s look at just this one part.  Joseph’s dreams are crazy.  Maybe they’re even insulting.  But they’re real, and they’re worth a second thought (which his father Jacob gives them, if silently).

What about our dreams?

Lent is a pretty good time of year to consider the space and silence for which we might need to make room as we discern our next steps in life.  At least, that’s what I was thinking until I opened up to I Corinthians 1:18-19:

“For the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. For it is written, ‘I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and the discernment of the discerning I will thwart.’”

Well, OK then… for today, just the dreams…

L.

Holy Tuesday, Year A

I almost feel as if Scripture is throwing punches, this morning.  How ridiculous is that?  But really…

I Corinthians 1:18-20, 25: “For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.  For it is written: ‘I will destroy the wisdom of the wise; the intelligence of the intelligent I will frustrate.’ Where is the wise person? Where is the teacher of the law? Where is the philosopher of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world…? For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength.”

I’m a pretty smart person, but I’m not claiming this kind of wisdom or intelligence, just to be clear.  I am frustrated, though.  Even my intelligence is frustrated.  And there are multiple reasons for that (most of which I do not have time to delve into, right now).  Over the past few weeks, for example, I have been completely perplexed regarding resurrection and the number of people whose resurrection accounts are recorded in the gospels.  It’s not as if I haven’t read these accounts over and over again.  It’s just that we don’t really talk about them in the same way we talk about Jesus’ resurrection.  But I digress a little bit, because I’m not going to write about that now, either.  In fact, the only reason I’m mentioning it, at all, is because I don’t want all of my readers to get through this post and assume I have lost my mind.  I’m still thinking about important stuff.  But I’m just going to throw it out there; I can’t stop thinking about the Easter Bunny!

Stay with me… Please… Stay with me…

I really don’t like the Easter Bunny.  Now, before anybody starts to imagine my children having a miserable childhood that lacks imagination, let’s get a few things straight.  We have pictures with Santa Claus.  Unicorns are real.  I still get excited when Tinkerbell flies across The Magic Kingdom at night, and I will challenge any teenager who doesn’t believe in pixie dust.  But the Easter Bunny makes me a little bit sick to my stomach (and it’s not all the Reese’s PB eggs… truly…)

I want to write something eloquent to express the importance of this Holy Tuesday, a day that is sometimes forgotten in the preceding and upcoming ‘big ticket events’ of Holy Week, but I keep seeing the Easter Bunny who was waving at me… wildly… from the corner of a church lawn on Palm Sunday.  Are we, perhaps, distracted?

I get fairly bent out of shape when others jump ahead in the Holy Week narrative, because I need to sit with Holy Saturday when it arrives.  (You know… that day when many churches have their Easter egg hunts, but Jesus is dead, so it doesn’t make sense—as a side note, I legitimately appreciate the many churches that have moved their bunnies and eggs to an earlier time, this season, because Holy Saturday is certainly not the time for celebration!)  And yet here I find myself, jumping ahead.  It’s Tuesday, but Saturday’s coming…

I’m going to give myself just a touch of grace, because Jesus jumps ahead on Tuesday, too.

He says, “You are going to have the light just a little while longer. Walk while you have the light, before darkness overtakes you. Whoever walks in the dark does not know where they are going” (John 12:35).

Saturday is dark.  Really, really dark.  Please, get ready to sit with that.  Stop Walking!

What a terrible post for Holy Tuesday.

L.

I Checked My Cynicism at the Door, Last Night

Matthew 11:28-30, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light" (NIV).

This post is overdue.

There have been some moments, over the past few years, when I haven't recognized myself. 

If I'm honest, they haven't all been bad.  Change and growth are really important, and sometimes these things are so transformative that we come out significantly different than we began.  The good changes have included things like standing up for what's right, even in the midst of controversy, and recognizing that God has given me a unique voice that should, indeed, be heard in order to bring glory to God.  The time for silence in the face of oppression is over.  At least in my life, that ship has sailed, and I never want to call it back to port.

However...

We must be kind.

Sometimes I am afraid that it is too easy to embrace the oxymoronic...

Here's an example...

Sometimes I get so passionate about passivism that I start sounding violent.  Um.  Nice.

I started thinking about Martin Luther King Jr.'s quote:

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that.  Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that."

Violence cannot drive out violence.  Exclusion cannot drive out exclusion.  Lies cannot drive out lies.  Deprivation cannot drive out depravity.  Power cannot drive out power.  These are not Kingdom values, friends.

Matthew 11:25, "Jesus said, 'I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children'" (NIV).

II Corinthians 12:9, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness" (NIV).

I Corinthians 1:27, "God chose things the world considers foolish in order to shame those who think they are wise. And he chose things that are powerless to shame those who are powerful" (NLT).

Please, let me be the first to admit that I have sometimes struggled for power. 

I repent. 

I am done.

Last night we were privileged to hold our first speaking engagement for Via Illuminate, and here's the thing.  A small group of people from a traditional, local congregation stepped up in multiple, tangible ways to show that they do, indeed, care about the least of these.  I haven't seen enough of that lately, but I saw it last night.  And let me tell you this.  The thing that touched my heart most deeply was the senior pastor who prayed for forgiveness for the times when we (the Church) have not seen the least of these as desirable or sought to meet their needs.  Friends.  There are still good people in the world.

Sometimes I feel as if it's difficult to just survive to the breakthrough moments, but they're there.  They're coming.  Keep surviving.

And again.  Be kind.

There is so much disagreement in the world.  There is so much disagreement in the church.  If you want to fight, it's not difficult to find a platform for that.  But I wonder how many of us really want to fight.  Maybe, instead, we might like to share our stories with one another and then determine how we can best work together, in our great and wonderful diversity, to bring redemption to the world... since that's what we all actually want, anyway...

May we listen to the narratives surrounding us that compete for our attention.  May we listen to understand, not to counter.  May we recognize the value of all people and seek to show love in ways that are the most inclusive.  May we remember that we do not have it all together and we have not arrived. 

Being weary is dreadful.  May we, instead, be gentle... and humble... and may we carry one another's burdens.  May we be holy.  May we love like Jesus.

 
L.

Persist

Psalm 118:29, "Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his love endures forever" (NIV).

Actually, the phrase, "His love endures forever," is repeated over and over again throughout Psalm 118 and Psalm 136.  Sometimes it doesn't even make a whole lot of sense.  "To him who struck down kings and killed babies...  give thanks...  his love endures forever..." (intense paraphrase, mine). 

What, exactly, is it to endure?  And do we want this?

A quick Google search will tell you that it is to "suffer something painful or difficult patiently... to remain in existence... to last..."

Honestly, I'm having some difficulty connecting this kind of thinking with love.

What, exactly, does it mean when love endures?

I have long since given up a perception of love that entails mushy, gushy feelings, flowers, and violin music.  I can even wrap my mind around a suffering, patient kind of love that tolerates pain.  At least there's some passion in that.  But to equate enduring love with simply remaining in existence is challenging for me, even when that's all I've got.  There has to be something more than mere survival, right?

Well, the lectionary continued to drag me through some rather demanding passages, today (especially as a "first born"), and the truth is if I wrote everything I'm really thinking right now I would lose all of my readers and most of my friends, but perhaps there is a tiny ray of light at the end of the tunnel, just barely peeking through where I almost can't see it.    

I Corinthians 15:58, "Therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain" (NIV).

I feel less than firm and deeply moved (not in a good way), and maybe enduring is all I can do right now.  The other day I heard someone say, "No one is going to give you something for nothing."  I completely agree with this sentiment, but all I could think was, "I feel as if I keep getting nothing for everything."      

But I think this is just part of the middle of my story.

Point well taken.  Must... remain... in existence...

L.

Laughter in the Midst of Pain

I hate drama.  I really, really hate it.  A lot.  Even though I have a knack for creating controversy, the honest truth is that I would legitimately be happier living in the land of unicorns who poop rainbows and fart butterflies and glitter... lots of glitter...  Please, do not tell my kids I used the word fart in public.  It is "the F word" at our house.  Seriously. 

For this reason, alone, it was super surprising to me when the words, "Please, tell me about your drama.  Tell me about the drama of someone else you know.  Heck, make something up," began to roll off my tongue, today.  I knew I was in trouble.  It's like I got sucked right in.  I just wanted to hear a narrative about someone whose drama was more ridiculous than my own.  I just...  I just... I just don't even know anymore...

I came home and read Scripture and was coming up short as far as actually having something reasonable to write (which you might think didn't get any better if you read that first paragraph carefully).

And then...

I Corinthians 15:30, "Why am I in peril every hour?" (NIV). 

I was all geared up to shout this one.  I mean, it relates so deeply, right?  It... it... Um, actually, it doesn't.  True story.  I am not in peril.  I am just really, really grouchy, and feeling a little bit sorry for myself... feeling a little bit forgotten.  And I think maybe I have also lost touch with what peril really is.  It's OK.  We all do this sometimes.

I laughed at myself. 

Because I tend to feel things deeply, I then spent some time thinking about all of the people in the world who really are in peril every hour.  And then I felt ashamed of myself.  A lot.  But that's not really any good either.  I need to move my feet.  I need to do things for other people.

I love it when people refer to me as the queen of... well... just about anything.  But not the drama queen.  I don't want that title.  Ever.  Starting years ago.  Resuming right now.

Psalm 115:12a, "The Lord remembers us and will bless us" (NIV). 

Good enough.

 
L.