Reconnecting and Remembering

Judy and I are in the Phoenix area this week. Of course the highlight for us is the time we get to spend with our daughter Kresta and her family - particularly Sam (age 8) and Joesph (age 3). I have been out in the driveway shooting baskets more than I have since seminary days. Sam is a dead-shot from the free throw line and from the corner. Joseph likes to have me lift him up so he can "dunk." We've read books. We've played RockBand II (what a riot that is). We even had a small fire in the backyard fire pit and roasted (or torched) marshmallows. I continue t0 be gratefully amazed at the energy and resilience of kids.

I am also amazed at the innocent curiosity and wonder of discovery that these boys have. Yesterday, we went to a nearby Wild Animal Park and Aquarium. We bought the kids a yearly pass so they have been numerous times. I might have guessed the boys would be tired of seeing the same animals they have visited often over the past year. But each exhibit was a lingering experience of watching them stare with wonder at the incredible diversity and color and strangeness and complexity of the created order. I thought we might never leave the tank filled with Moray and Zebra eels. Of equal attraction to the eels was the rock wall at the base of the tank. It proved to be a wonderful climbing, balancing and jumping place. We got to feed stingrays, deer, ducks, goats and even a ravenous giraffe with an incredibly long, sticky tongue. What fun.

Coming to Arizona this time each year also affords us the chance to get caught up with friends from California. We met them in Las Cruces years ago but have maintained a close friendship ever since. Their daughter and grandkids live fairly close by and so we try to connect with them as they are often here visiting over the President's Day weekend as well. We had dinner with them at the ClaimJumper Restauarant and lingered over good conversation while gluttonously trying to finish off a huge, decadent dessert called the "I D'Eclaire" - a concotion made up of pastry, vanilla custard, ice cream, whipped cream and hot fudge. Until next year, emails and Facebook posts will have to suffice. It was good to see them face to face.

This morning, I had coffee with an old friend (friend of many years, not elderly) who served First Presbyterian Church in Las Cruces the same years I served Northminster. We were in a support group and together prayed over many family, church, denominational and personal issues. John was a true colleague and friend, a fact of which I was vividly reminded again this morning. John was also pastor to Judy, the girls and me at a critical time in our lives.

Halfway into our conversation, he asked how I was doing physically. "Had I recovered from the injuries sustained nearly 12 years ago in my freak encounter with a bus?" He then handed me a sheaf of papers he said he had been keeping for me for just such an occasion. They were email correspondences between friends and colleagues in Las Cruces and in the Presbytery of Sierra Blanca that took place between May 8, 1997 and July 10th the same year.

Unaware of at the time - and probably unintentionally underappreciated - these e-mails retold my story of injury, pain and recovery from a much different point of view. They reminded me of the sincere, deeply felt, prayer and concern that covered me from the first days after the accident all the way through my rehabilitation. Not only was my congregation at Northminster concerned, helpful and praying, our new congregation in Enumclaw was equally faithful in prayer and support. Most of all I felt such a deep appreciation for the bonds of love and collegial ministry that existed in that Presbytery, It was very moving for me to re-read some of these notes. It was also humbling to realize how faithful others were to me and my family during those difficult days. And it was also a reminder that in the 12 years that have passed since having been run over by a bus, God has been so gracious in healing me and taking care of our family.

Reconnecting with John gave me a chance to get caught up on his life and ministry, share in a good strong cup of Starbuck's coffee (with a couple of added shots) and remembering that God's love is unquenchable through the years. This morning I read from Song of Solomon these words:

"Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm;

for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave.

It burns like blazing fire, like a mighty flame.

Many waters cannot quench love; rivers cannot wash it away."

This trip has been a reminder once again of the power of love: the love of family; the love of friends; and most importantly the love of God - unquenchable, enduring, blazing hot. May that be your experience today, tomorrow and always.

What a Great Day!!!

I realized it has been nearly two weeks since I last blogged. I guess it could be because I have been under the weather a little lately. It could also be because our church is getting ready for its annual meeting. I think the real reason is that most of my spare time has been spent reading the Bible. I understand that most people might not think that unusual for a pastor - and in a sense it isn't. But this is different. I - along with many others from our church - are engaged in attempting to read through the Bible in 90 Days. That means about 12 pages per day of names like Shamgar, Othniel, Eliezer, Ophrah (no not Oprah although I am told that is actually what her parents intended to name her and simply left out a letter). Along with the strange names are the long lists of begats, the strange prohibitions of the Old Testament and the bloody sacrifices and barbaric battles. It is really eye opening and as I re-read these passages, I am aware of all sorts of details and images that I have glossed over in the past.

Have you ever noticed how God has chosen to use and to bless the most unlikely, imperfect people in accomplishing salvation's plan. That gives me great hope.

Early this week I was reminded of the plea of God's people "to have a king, just like the surrounding nations". Dissatisfied with the way God has delivered them and taken care of them from their journies in the wilderness to their conquest of Caanan, the Israelites seem to think that a human, political form of government can do a better job than God has done working through his prophet's and judges.

Some things never change do they? I find myself being caught up in the excitement, hope and optimism of a newly elected President. And in fact, I do believe that Barack Obama's election and inauguration as 44th President of the US is a milestone of epic proportions. I vascillated between tears and uncontrollable grinning then on to somber prayer for protection, wisdom and power for him. I was emotionally drained by the end of the day. I don't know how he and his wife and daughters made it through the long day of prayer services, ceremonies, parades and balls.

I know many are skeptical - and perhaps even bitter or angry. But what an incredible thing it is that an African American - the son of an African immigrant - could become President the very same week we celebrate Dr. Martin Luther King's legacy of freedom, justice and racial equality. And what an incredible gift it is to live in a country where the transition of power - even after a hotly contested political campaign - can take place peacefully. In fact, signs of new unity, hope and racial equality were as evident as the many-colored faces in the throngs of peopls who were present in Washington to witness this moving, historic occasion.

Perhaps the fact that President Obama seemingly sprang so quickly from relative obscurity is a sign of God's unique appointment and role for him in our world at this time. Like Esther, perhaps God has put him in this place "for such a time as this." In re-reading the Bible, so many of those that God chose to lead the people were not the people that the pundits and experts would have picked.

Having said all that about our new president and these historic moments, I need to bring myself back down to the reality that our country and this our elected officials are just part of an earthly and temporal kingdom - a kingdom that exists only because of God's grace. God's eternal plans and kingdom far exceed and out pace even the most thrilling, hopeful time in earthly history. In the end, we need to remember that we are citizens of Christ's kingdom first and of this earthly one secondarily. Ultimately our hope has to rest in Jesus' triumph and not ina political candidate or party platform.

So, I am jazzed about our new President. I believe better things are in store. I pray that he will be used of God not just to bring help to an ailing economy, but to restore our great country to the place of honor, respect, freedom, justice and equality that it has been in the past and can continue to be. But you know what, that can only happen when we as followers of the King of King live lives that reflect the values of an eternal kingdom.

I've rambled enough. My cup is empty. It is time to have another cup of coffee and finish getting ready for my Bible Study tonight at the Mint.

The face of homelessness

Today, at our ministerial association meeting, we discussed the problem of homelessness here on the plateau. We heard some heart-wrenching stories of families living in tents up in the hills east of us. One story was of a dad - a single dad - with a five year old son who had been living up in the hills east of town until the cold temperatures and snow forced them to come seeking assistance. The short version of a long story is that caring Christians through some of our churches and through Plateau Outreach Ministry helped this man walk through the maze of red tape and beauracracy to get help and they (he and his son) are now scheduled to leave the 17 foot used trailer they have been living in and move into a transitional housing unit where they can stay for up to 2 years. During that time, the idea is that work can be found, and roots can be put down for a quality of life they have not known.

That is just one story. Behind that story are the 15 or so other people or families who have come to POM seeking help just this week. Each of them has a story as well. Each one is a person created in God's image and an object of God's love. All too often though, they are forgotten or overlooked. Often the homeless become faceless statistics...numbers in some government report.

Some homeless are dismissed because, we assume, they have made bad choices in life; or they are alcohol or drug abusers; or scam artists who just are looking to live on society's dole or off someone else's sympathies.

Many homeless (sorry I don't have statistics) are people who should be under medical or psychiatric care.

Whatever the circumstances, homeless people have faces. And they have bodies with physical needs. They have souls.

Perhaps their existence strikes us with the fear that it could just as easily be us. Many Americans are just one paycheck away from losing their homes. With a job loss, a catastrophic illness, a divorce, or some other life changing situation, it is easy to see how tenuous our security in material things really is.

I don't have an easy solution or a spiritual platitude. I just raise the issue to raise consciousness. We can tell them about Jesus. But, if they are Christians and are still hungry or homeless, have we really shown or lived out God's love?

Our church is doing a program called "The Bible in 90 Days." We are slogging through some of the Old Testament Laws in Leviticus this week and there is some hard stuff there. Part of what it means to live under God's covenant is to take care of the stranger and the alien and the poor (Exodus 22:21; Lev. 19:9,10) The same thing is echoed in the New Testament when James says "pure and undefiled religion is this - to look after widows and orphans and keep oneself from being polluted vbyt world." (James 1:27) Jesus also demonstrated that kingdom living means taking care of the widow, the orphan, the hungry, the naked, the homeless and the jailed. (Mt. 25:31 - 46)

So, how am I going to deal with this? I really don't know. I admit, I am very uncomfortable when I am approached by someone who is obviously homeless and in need. I know one thing, I can't ignore him or her. I need to look them in the face and try to see in that face the face of a person whom God loves and wants to care for. Then I can decide what might be the best way to help.

An Old Friend

A few weeks ago, for reasons I really can't explain, I stopped in a pawn shop on the way home from Auburn. My eyes were immediately drawn to a wall behind the counter where a shiny, nickel plated with brass trim trumpet caught my eye.The unique finish and valves told me immedately that is was an early model Conn Connstellation, much like the one my parents had given me in 1965 and that I had played through high school, college, and seminary. I remember that gift as being one of the best gifts I had ever received.

I loved that horn. It helped me reach Colorado All-State Band, receive annual scholarships to Colorado State Music Camp in Fort Collins and music scholarships to the University of Colorado and Colorado State College. I played it for my audtion to the McAllister Conservatory of Music when I transferred to Wheaton College in 1969. I played it in "the Fred Davis Quintet" during the summers of my college years. I played it in churches, high school assemblies, and annually for the Memorial Day Ceremonies at Fort Logan National Cemetary in Denver. That trumpet and I were inseparable friends.

Inseparable, that is, until one sad day, as Judy and I were organizing and packing our things for a move to Renton Washington after my graduation from Seminary. We had many of our valuable things stored in our garage in the house we owned on Hudson Street. Somehow thieves had gotten into the garage and stolen several of our valuable possessions. Most valuable to me was that trumpet.

Seeing the same model (or one very close to it) in the Pawn Shop brought back a flood of memories to me. So, a few days later when Judy asked me what I wanted for Christmas, I hesitated, knowing it cost a lot of money, then bravely answered, "there is this trumpet in a pawn shop..."

A few days before Christmas, a wrapped package showed up under our tree and I knew it could only be one thing - the trumpet I had seen in the Pawn Shop. I couldn't wait to unwrap it and try it out. I am sure our neighbors loved hearing it on Christmas eve at 11:00 after I had unwrapped it. But it was just like I remembered it - smooth valve action, a dark sultry tone, and an ease in the higher register that I haven't enjoyed with the other horns I have owned since.

While we were in Chicago, during a break from Free-for-all Yahtzee, Lego Star Wars and silly movies with Davis, I took some time to go on line and read up as much as I could about these horns. Based on the serial number, the finish, and tubing, I found out that the trumpet Judy had purchased for me was a bit of a collector's item. It was built in in 1956 or 57 in Elkhardt, Indiana by the Conn company. It is a Connstellation 28A, the predecessor to the very popular, professional model 38b Connstellation. Similar horns, some in much less pristine condition than mine, were listed on Ebay and other online sites for 3 to 4 times what Judy had been able to purchase it for.

So, there is no real spiritual application to this blog today. Just a "note" of excitement, gratitude and nostalgia. I have spent about an hour this morning getting reacquainted with and playing this treasured gift. Those who know me know what a role the trumpet - and particularly jazz - has had in my life. Even though my calling to ministry has taken me in a different direction than that I had anticipated in professional music, playing has continued to be a great joy and passion in my life. Tomorrow, I will go join 5 other of my fellow jazz afficionados to rehearse for an upcoming gig. I can't wait to show off and see how my old friend will blend with the other members of By Committee.

What are your passions in life? What things from your past do you cherish? Sure, things like trumpets, or sport, books, or any other thing, cannot begin to take the place of family, friends and faith. But often they are a part of the grace God shows in our lives - gifts of grace if you will. Thus, they are things that shouldn't be locked away in a closet. God encourages us to use our passions for his glory. I hope that the new year will bring you great joy in dusting off blessings, skills, and special possessions and using them to bring joy and grace to others.

The Big Storm of '08

Storms seem to take on epic proportions in people's memories. The last few days of cold and snow flurries in Enumclaw will long be remembered as the storm of 2008. After all, Sunday we woke to a blanket of 2" of the white stuff - more where it had blown into drifts. Today, they are predicting additional snow although it looks like we could scrape by with just a trace. You would have thought that it was several feet deep with temps in the low teens or lower. School is closed today and we are in a quandry as to whether things at church should be cancelled.

Growing up in Colorado, and having lived in Chicago for 5 years, I know snow storms, and this is no snow storm...that is until it is recounted and retold over the next several years. "I remember the snow storm of 08. There must have been at least 3 feet of snow on the ground and sub-zero temps. The worst storm we've had in ages." In a few years it will have reached epic proportions.

Of course, my wife accuses me of looking forward to snow and ice on the roads just so I can go out and drive on it. She's right. Once, when we lived in southern New Mexico, we had a rare snow storm that dumped 14" of wet heavy snow. All the roads - including I-25 & I-10 were closed down. Did that stop the Davis family? Ha! Not a chance. We all piled in the family 4 wheel drive (an Isuzu Trooper) and headed to El Paso to do some Christmas Shopping. Closed highway - no problem. And we had the mall virtually to ourselves.

It reminds me of the storm of 1971. "the worst blizzard in years" according to some Denverites. Actually, I think it was just my mom who said that and she tended to exaggerate storms anyway. It was January 2 and Judy and I were due back at Wheaton College after the Christmas break and a friend had offered his car if we would drive back with his wife and two kids aged 6 and 9. We said sure. It was a cool car and these were close friends. Why not? What could go wrong?

When we woke up on Saturday morning, the day of our planned departure, there was about 8" of snow and it was still coming down hard. I convinced Judy's and my folks that I was a good snow driver and that, since we were driving East, we should get ahead of the storm and be able to outrun it all the way to Chicago. Yeah, right!

We spun out on black ice near Kearney Nebraska. We got stranded outside Lincoln along with thousands of others. It was snowing so hard that at one point I was walking in front of the car trying to feel for the side of the rode so I could direct Judy who was behind the wheel. They said the wind was blowing in gusts of up to 50 mph and the wind chill factor was well under zero. There were drifts of at least 5' if not more.

Some really nice people about a quarter mile from the highway took us in - half frozen, hungry, discouraged - then began leading others to safety and shelter. By the time evening had rolled around, over 80 of us were huddled in two adjacent homes. What an experience. Next day, the roads were all closed - but guess what? That's right, we forged on and 15 hours of drift-dodging, lane-changing, slow driving, we made it back just in time to shower and head off to our first classes of the morning. Ah yes, the storm of 71. Worst storm ever!

But I digress. Sorry about that trip down memory lane. As I was thinking about how inconvenient snow, icy roads, school closures, and all are I received a letter from one of the missionaries we support in Southern Africa. It told the horrible tale of cholera, AIDS, rampant violence and incredible inflation in Zimbabwe. Sometimes, I don't realize how good I have it.

Then when I got to my office, I read a prayer/support letter from a friend in Casas Por Cristo - an organization that builds houses in Juarez, Mexico. He spoke of how increasing drug wars, escalating violence, and the crumbling American economy had deeply curtailed their mission of building houses with and for God's people in need along our southern borders.

Both these situations - Zimbabwe and Mexico - were set in perspective of God's sovereign grace as our missionary friends have had to trust solely on Christ's reigning power to meet needs protect them and accomplish God's purposes in spite of dire circumstances.

I guess a little snow on the ground and some cold weather isn't so bad. Maybe God is going to work in my life today in some unexpected, gracious way. In the meantime, I guess I will stoke up the fire in the fireplace, pour myself another cup of coffee, and enjoy the beauty and peace of falling snow....and oh, yes, spend some time praying for my brothers and sisters around the world whose lives really are difficult. I guess the storm of "08 isn't so bad after all!

Crowded airline seats, luke warm coffee, and a big surprise

What's the deal with airline seats? Could they possibly cram more seats in and make them more uncomfortable? How much leg and elbow room does a full grown person really need for four hours anyway? Sounds like the opening of a bad stand-up comedy routine doesn't it?

Why is it always the case that the three largest people on the plane always seem to get shoehorned into the same crowded row?

I thought I was so smart reserving a seat just behind the bulkhead but when I went to sit down between my two traveling companions, movement of any kind became almost impossible. Just to drag my computer out from beneath my seat took a contortion effort worthy of a limber, circus performer. The worst thing about my assigned seat, though, is not its cramped conditions. It is sitting here having to watch the first class passengers - just one row forward and just beyond the "wall" - luxuriate in spacious, comfortable seats, waited on hand and foot and enjoying what looks to be a pretty good breakfast of scrambled eggs, fruit, bacon and a pastry. I got a small banana nut “breakfast cookie” whatever that is.

I just finished my third cup of luke-warm coffee, having watched the attendant pour it while shakily holding the pot right over my knees. At least, if he had spilled it, it wouldn’t have been hot enough to cause more than minor discomfort. Now I am just hoping I can make it another 45 minutes and to the relative safety of O’Hare airport.

Why, you ask, am I enduring such nihilistic torture? The answer is simple. My 8 year old grandson Davis is in a program at his school and he so much as begged me to come see it. Im-pulsively, yet with Judy’s blessing, I used some accumulated air miles to buy the ticket, take the time off during a crazy, busy season, and head for the frozen climes of Chicagoland to watch a second grader perform. I can hardly wait.

Most everyone I have talked to agrees that this is a cool thing to do. Only one naysayer suggested that if I do this, I will set a precedent that I will not be able to accommodate every time he might ask. Who cares? It is worth it this one time and maybe - no, for sure - I’ll do it even more often. Life is too short.

So I guess I’ll ask for one more cup, hope it doesn’t spill on me or my seatmates, and patiently – if uncomfortably count the minutes till arrival. I wonder if Davis will be surprised.

On another note, the idea came up, more or less at the last minute, to plan a “Blue Christmas” service at Calvary. I think the leaders of our Stephen Ministry actually suggested it. That is not really what we’ll call it but it does depict what many people feel as the Christmas celebration approaches. For those who have lost a mate or a child or a parent, Christmas is different and not always a happy time. For those facing debilitating and chronic illness, the thought of merriment and joy sounds completely foreign. For people who are facing foreclosure, job losses, economic hardship or other difficult trials the joy and bright merriment that is all around them is hard to accept let alone participate in. Some people are just affected in a sad way by the short dark days and even longer nights of winter. Thus, a service just for them to put words to their feelings and to give voice to the hope that Christ’s advent promises and to feel the support and community of others who may feel much the same way. “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light.” May it be so for those walking in darkness right now.

Post Script: I am finishing this post at 5:00 am CST Thursday morning. It is about 15 degrees outside. Today is the day of the big Christmas/Hannakuh/Kwanzaa (no - there isn't a Festivus for the rest of us a la Frank Costanza on Seinfeld) Davis was so surprised he didn’t even recognize me at first; then big smiles and hugs and a celebratory dinner at his favorite place – The Rainforest Café; and finally a late night viewing of “The Three Amigos” – Boppa’s and Davis’ favorite funny movie. (We will not die like dogs, we will fight like lions for we…are… THE THREE AMIGOS)

Three days parking at MVP parking in Seattle - $30.00; Dinner at the Rainforest Cafe - $60.00; sitting with my grandson cuddled up watching our "favorite movie" - priceless.

Coming or going?

Advent - It has come quickly this year. There are only 22 shopping days 'til Christmas (fewer than that if you shop on line and expect something to be delivered by Christmas day). But is that what Advent is really about?

I don't think so. It is about expectantly waiting for the celebration of Christ's birth for sure. It is about looking and hoping for the coming in glory of Jesus to claim and establish his eternal kingdom. It is about listening to and for God's voice in the midst of all the bustle and crazy, hectic schedules of this time of year.

At times I wonder if I am coming or going? Who's coming to the party I've planned? I've got to go this meeting and that party, and, oh yes, the concert tomorrow night. Christmas is coming so I have to get going. I of course am going to church, I wonder if anyone else will be coming. Coming and going. Going and coming. Judy and I are so busy we hardly have a chance to talk to each other.

I read a book this week called "The Circle of Seasons." The author Kimberlee Conway Ireton reflects that Advent is much like the experience of a pregnant woman awaiting the day her child will be delivered. Advent is a time of waiting and preparation - or at least it should be.

Waiting is not a passive thing - it is dynamic hope; it is staking our life on the hope of the Gospel.

It is preparing to hear God's voice in the familiar Christmas story. It is eagerly expecting the arrival of Christ in glory. I remember one person telling me that the Biblical concept of hope is much like hanging onto a safety rope for dear life as you dangle over the edge of a precipice. Am I hanging onto the Lord like that? Am I eagerly waiting for Christ to come anew?

And yet we, I guess I should say I, clutter it up with all our comng and going; so much so that it is easy to lose the true meaning of the season which is all about Jesus.

Hey, the lights are great (after all, I spent a lot of time organizing and decorating our boat). I love the music. And who can say no to all the incredible food laid out before us at party after party after party? All those things make this season wonderful too. But they can also add stress and anxiety if we're not careful and we let them take precedence.

The four main, traditional themes of the Advent season are hope (first week) peace (second week) joy (third week) and love (fourth week). This year I have been trying to slow down enough to really focus on those ideas and see how Christ wants me to live them out.

The angels said to the shepherds (and it is a good word to us as well) "Don't be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy. Unto you is born this day in the city a David, a savior, who is Christ the Lord."

Well, I better get going. I have someone coming to my office soon for an appointment.