I spent Saturday at the Festival of Nations, an annual event in St. Paul, which hosts several dozen artisans, food vendors and dancers from around the world.  I have always loved this event, even before learning that Steve Heckler, one of our own at Northern Light, is the coordinator.  I'm not much of shopper, but do appreciate the artisans' handiwork.  I love seeing all of the people in this mini-global village, and can't help by thinking that this is how God sees the world.  But, mostly I go for the food and especially, the dancing.

I grew up with parents who danced.  With my German/Finnish background, that meant polkas, waltzes and such.  It's great to have learned later that almost every nationality has their own folk rhythm and dance.  Some are measured, some flamboyant, some quiet, some loud, all help increase one's aerobic conditioning.  King David and Miriam, in the Bible, both danced joyfully as a way to celebrate their connection with the Almighty.  Seems to me all of us do whenever or wherever we tap our foot, clap our hands, do the Hokie-Pokie or full-out "boogie."

I've heard many people tell me about being raised in a church environment where dancing was not allowed (along with other things, like lipstick and playing cards).  What a pity.  At any church with which I am involved, it not only will be tolerated, but encouraged.  So, as the song says:  "I Hope You Dance" ... even if it only to "put your right foot in and shake it all about."  You'll be happier for doing so.

I'm happy that Northern Light Church will be partnering with Inspired Prayer Ministry, a group Kenyans who will be meeting in our building at least once a month starting in May.  I met with them at our site about two weeks ago to show them the facility and talk about schedules.  IPM is group of women and men who pray for newly immigrated Africans in their homes in the Twin Cities area.  Once a month they gather for worship together and that's where we fit in.

Being a busy pastor at two suburban churches, I was happy I could "squeeze in" a little time to talk with them about their ministry, building needs, etc.  While locking the door after we finished, one of their leaders said "we should pray about this."  I thought to myself:  "Well, of course they want to pray.  They are a PRAYER group!"  I was ready for a little perfunctory prayer and thought we would all soon be on our way.  But NOOOOO way! This is a fervent group who take their prayer seriously.  Many blessings and petitions were covered as we held hands for several minutes, including prayers for myself and NLC.

It's important to be reminded that not all people approach their spirituality alike. 

I learned my lesson, a while back, when traveling in Sierra Leone.  The driver prayed for a safe trip before we got in the van..  When we got a flat tire, way up-country, he prayed before we got out and repaired it.  Once repaired, he thanked God in prayer before we got back in the van.  And he again thanked God in prayer when we finally arrived.  Not only would have I probably not have prayed at all, but would have cussed quite a bit when the tire went down.

What if we all prayed like our Kenyan friends?  What a difference it could make.  I think I don't pray as much as I should partly because I think can often just rely on myself..  I don't think being self-confident is necessarily a bad trait, but I should probably avail myself of holy "possibilities" more often than I do.

The IPM leaders have said they will be attending our worship for time to time.  They will be meeting on Saturdays, but will sometimes join us on Sundays.   It should be interesting, because I know they like to sing a dance before the Lord in worship for extended periods of time, too.  Praise God!   Let's hold hands and do it together.

Showings

I'm getting used to the idea of "showings."  We're trying to sell our house. The realtor calls almost every day to let us know that a prospective buyer will be at our house at such and such time ... and can you please kindly not be there. So now, when we leave in the morning, we have to make sure the house looks right, just in case they call because there might be a showing before we can get home to make things look presentable.

Making things look presentable involves cleaning, getting rid of any clutter, making the place look warm and inviting, putting out the welcome mats and having chocolate in the candy dish.  It also involves turning on all of the lights.  There can't be any area that seems dark.  We've even moved a few lamps around in order to make sure the light shines everywhere.  I'm sure our electrical bill will be high.  Its one of many reasons I hope we actually sell the place soon.

Used to be I thought of SHOWING in a different way, as in "something's showing."  As in a piece of undergarment or something else that the public should probably not be seeing, intentional or not.  But now I view the word in a more positive light.  It actually feels good to be showing a home that is clean, etc.

This got me to thinking about my personal life.  What do people "see" when they are around me?  Do I live a "clean" life?  Am I concentrating on what is important in life, and not cluttered up with needless trivia pursuits?  I am warm and inviting?  Do I welcome people around me and truly enjoy their company?  How many dark shadows do I have where I try to block the Light from reaching?  Oh that I would always feel as good about the showing of my personal life as I do our house right now.

Something's showing all the time, whether we admit it or not.  Might as well try to make it presentable.

something Better

I used a well-traveled Easter illustration in my sermon on Sunday.  But, funny how they come alive sometimes.

The illustration goes like this:  A woman was dying of cancer.  She called the minister over to the house to talk about her last wishes, and said, "When I'm lying in my coffin, I want to have a Bible in my left hand and a fork in my right."  The minister understood the Bible request, but was perplexed by the other one.  She continued on, saying, "I've always enjoyed church potlucks with the food, friends and everything.  But, my favorite part was always toward the end, at dessert time, when someone would clear the table and then say 'keep your fork,' because I knew something better was coming."

I went to visit a woman in hospice.  We talked about her condition, and after a while, she brought up the fact that she didn't have very many more days on this earth.  I bravely said, "Something better's coming," not sure how she would respond to it.  She said, "You're absolutely right.  I'm going on a long trip, and looking forward to it."

If we could only all be so ready.  I'm keeping a fork on my desk.

A Different View of Holy Week

I had a conversation a couple of days ago with a man who told me he thought Jesus was a peaceful anarchist.  That's a pretty inflammatory word, whose definition I wasn't quite sure of, so I looked it up.  I know it's old-fashioned, but I still use the dictionary right next to me on the shelf in my office on occasion.  It read: "absence of any cohering principle, as a common standard or purpose: disorder and confusion."  Not sure I can go with calling him one.  But, the point is well made.  He was definitely a radical "disrupter."

I like the pomp and circumstance of  Palm Sunday, the drama of Holy Week, the hope and promise of the resurrection, the brass quartet on Easter Sunday and saying "He is Risen!" as much as anybody, but my friend did cause me to re-think the events that happened two thousand years ago that we "celebrate" this week. And since "re-thinking" is what my denominational leaders are asking us all to do, I submit this for your reflection. 

Think about it: A king would have rode in on a horse, with armor and a helmet, and with many others dressed the same way.  Jesus rode a donkey.  That's quite a slap in the face to the Roman authorities.  Then he went to the temple, not exactly respecting and receiving a blessing from the local clergy and denominational leaders, but instead overturned some tables.  Then he went on before the judges and didn't exactly follow due process.  When asked to state whether he was guilty or not, he skirted around the question by saying: "Well, YOU say I am." Then, while dying on the cross, he says to his executioners and enemies in general, "Father, forgive THEM."  (for THEY don't know what they are doing)  Then when they think they got him in a grave, he disappears and soon after starts APPEARING to a few select people, giving them hope, just when the authorities thought it was over and done with. 

This is not business as usual.  Which, I guess, is the whole point.  I can go with the "peaceful" part of my friend's statement.  But, to say there is an absence of principle or purpose would be wrong.  The principles (lessons learned) seem to be 1)  violence is not the end all, 2)  forgiveness will prevail over condemnation, 3)   God's ways (process) are not the same as ours.  

I'm think I'm ready to seriously look at a broadened view of Holy Week: Jesus, the rabble-rousing "disupter." As long as we keep the Hallelujah Chorus. 

Sunday Schedules

A couple of Sundays ago, I took the morning off.  Yes, I was in town, not at the cabin or anything.  Didn't have to take my kids to any sports tournament. No relatives were coming over, so I didn't have to clean the house. I wasn't on vacation. I didn't really have a any good excuse not to go to church (and I'm a pastor!)  I was a little under the weather, but could have easily made it.  I simply asked the other pastor if I could take the morning off and he said, "Yes."  (thanks Bill)

Not that I'm going to do it all the time, but I did learn some things.  Mostly, that it was pretty nice to sleep in, drink a cup of coffee, leisurely read the entire paper and eat a late brunch.

Knowing where my paycheck comes from, I won't be doing this very often.  I also know I didn't want to go all day without going to church. I wanted the time with God, the community, the fellowship time (and the cookies?)  So I went to church, as usual, at 5 p.m. at Northern Light and got fed.

What I don't understand, is why more people don't do this.  It's kind of a re-structuring of the way people think about their Sundays, but it seemed to make sense to me.  Stay out late Saturday evening if you want.  Go to Grandma's for brunch. Watch a little TV.  Catch up on the laundry, fix the leaky faucet, rake the leaves, whatever ... relax a little ... and then go to church.

If I could get away with it more often, I definitely would.   

Farming

I never thought I would like farming.  I grew up in the country, but not FARM country.  We used to drive by some farms, though, on the way to the suburbs, where I have lived for the last twenty-seven years.  Even though I've been fully itinerant as a United Methodist minister, I've always secretly prayed I wouldn't get sent to farm country.
I may have to reconsider.
Our work team just back from farming in Jamaica.  We planted 144 avocado tress within two acres on a hillside by a school we support there.  I knew it would feel good to help the local agricultural students to learn the basics, and that it would feel good to help the school become more self-sustaining.  What caught me by surprise was how much I enjoyed digging in the soil. 
Others have told me how great it can be, including my wife, who, unlike me, enjoys her day off working in the garden.  I also remember another man once telling me, "Never trust anyone who isn't willing to put their hands in the dirt."  I thought he was rather eccentric.  Not so sure anymore.
It was pointed out to me that the first person created in Genesis lore (Adam) was a gardener.  "And the Lord put him in the garden to dress it and keep it."  And the Hebrews raised vegetables in Egypt. (cucumbers, melons, leeks, onions and garlic)
And when Jesus needed to talk with his Father, he sought the solitude of a garden. People who tell you to never trust a non-gardener, also say, "The most important growing which takes place in a garden is that of the gardener himself or herself." 
I know my wife will want me to join her out back this year again.  So far, I have resisted.  But, I might surprise her this spring.  And after I plant a few flowers and pull out the weeds, I might just sit there and have a little talk with the Master.