Can Tragedy Bring Us Together?

Many of us who were aware of world events in the 1980's will remember the epic words of Ronald Reagan as he stood at the Brandenburg Gate in West Berlin and challenged the leadership of the USSR and especially Mikhail Gorbachev to "tear down this wall!" 

The wall that then separated West Berlin and East Berlin had became a symbol of oppression and bondage.  It was a reminder of the acrimony and mistrust between the east and the west after the fall of Germany at the close of World War Two.  It divided a community that had needed one another to heal from the blight of the Nazis and the war that nearly destroyed them.  When the wall was torn down not long after Reagan's now famous speech, Berliners were once again united and eventually Germany was brought together again as an independent nation now proud and strong. 

We may not have large block and mortar walls dividing friends, families and communities these days but there are many walls among us.  These walls are made in the clash of opposing world views,  polarizing ideologies, and inflexible beliefs.  They are coated on both sides with sharp rhetoric and the tops are lined with barbs of blame and vitriol.  When on one side of the wall it is easy to hate those on the other side and define them by their most extreme words and behavior. It is a simple thing to dehumanize people we don't know or care to know. From those we dehumanize we feel justified to withhold any and all forms of human love and compassion.  The walls weaken our schools and neighborhoods.  They divide our cities and communities.  They polarize political parties and blur a national identity. 

These walls are strangling our society at every level diluting us from a hardy melting pot of cultures and world views bound by a common vision and purpose to a thin fractured society too blinded by the structure of our own world view to see the beauty in that of others.  From the halls of congress to city hall we witness acrimony and asperity spread across the airwaves and the internet from various sides of the walls that exist.  Whether the topic is taxes or pipelines, abortion or drugs, marriage or sexual identity, people are most comfortable speaking with those within their walls while taking shots at those on the other side. In so doing they hope to bring change by inflicting injury, a proposition that seems destined to ultimate failure.  Meanwhile our communities pay the price.  Systemic relationships at the community level are being held together by used chewing gum and cheap masking tape.  Political correctness and pretense take the place of genuine human emotion and protests take the place of real efforts to bring people together.

Having been a member of the clergy for many years now I am no stranger to navigating these walls.    Recently, members of the church where I minister  had what has become a very high profile tragedy occur in their family.  The tragedy triggered a visceral response from many around the world on issues of sexual and gender identity.  As the rhetoric swirled, a giant spotlight landed on the ugly wall between conservative Christianity and the LGBTQ community.  Commentary from both sides of the wall was harsh, filled with blame and bashing. One side chanted, "Your beliefs kill children!" While the other side responded, "Your glorification of suicide as martyrdom kills children!" Both sides have their say, score their points, and celebrate with the like minded while the wall grows larger and larger. 

I wonder if anybody on either side (besides me obviously) has ever stopped to ask, "What if the greatest problem is not in the beliefs, rhetoric or behavior of others but rather might actually be the wall itself.  I can't help but wonder what would happen if people on both sides of the wall would stop thinking up ways to vent their anger toward the other side but instead just reach over the wall and grab a hand on the other side.  Just holding it, not grabbing a hand with the hopes of pulling someone over but taking time to feel the warm flesh of the other, to get to know them and their story, to try to understand where their hearts are, to accept them even if they don't agree with them. I believe that kind of behavior would begin to melt walls in our communities.  We could see walls of racial differences, religious differences, cultural differences and others begin to crumble and fall. In our time we could see real healing begin in our communities. Political correctness would be replaced with real human compassion and caring.  It would make a real difference in how people relate to each other.  We could see each other not as a Christian people or Jewish people, gay people or straight people, black people or white people but just as people.

I don't expect those on the extremes to care much about what I am saying here.  They're too busy lighting up social media, planning their rallies and devising schemes to destroy the other side.  But I hope those of us in the middle of the extremes, those of us who are tired of the walls, those of us who want to love people despite our differences will see it differently.  I am hoping those are the people who will approach the wall and reach over, grab a hand and start the process. 

Lets tear down these walls!

The Glorious Unfolding

            This Labor Day Weekend while not the official start of fall it is practically the beginning of a new part of the year.  Kids are back in school, weather patterns are changing and there is even an occasional leaf that jumps the seasonal starter’s pistol and changes color.  As I’ve said before, I’m thankful to live in a region of the country that has four distinct seasons.  I’m always happy for the start of the summer but thankful when it gives way to the cooler, more scenic autumn.  I’ll miss the kids being home and the sun being out until after 9:00pm but I’ll love college football and taking foliage photos.  Change is a part of life and we must learn to grieve our losses, live for today and embrace the blessings of a continuously unfolding future. 

            Steven Curtis Chapman, a contemporary Christian music artist, has a new song out titled, “The Glorious Unfolding” (the video is incredible and if we’re friends on facebook there is a link to the video on my page). The gist of the song is that God has a plan for each of us and while there are bumps and twists and turns in our path He is working all things together for our good. 

            I find it refreshing to look at life from the perspective of it being an adventure planned and orchestrated by God to prepare us for glory.  You can see this perspective alive in Paul’s mind as he writes to the Philippians saying, “But one thing I do; forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” (Phil. 3:13-14). God doesn’t want us to live our lives in fear.  The whole concept of adventure means to take risks, face our fears and trust that God genuinely cares for us, trust that he will lift us when we fall, trust that losses on this journey will be turned to gains and trust that his plans for us may lead us through the ‘valley of the shadow of death’ sometimes but will eventually lead us to a triumphant realization of the part we play in His grand scheme for glory. 

            The psalmist puts it this way

Now this I know:
    The Lord gives victory to his anointed.
He answers him from his heavenly sanctuary
    with the victorious power of his right hand.
Some trust in chariots and some in horses,
    but we trust in the name of the Lord our God.
They are brought to their knees and fall,
    but we rise up and stand firm. (Psalm 20:6-8)

In Romans, Paul reminds us

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. (Romans 8:28)

Fall is here.  Winter is coming.  Some will focus on cold and dark while other fix their eyes on beauty and purpose.  Threat or challenge, what will you see?  Put your future in God’s hands and watch the ‘glorious unfolding.’

Powerful Memory

            What are some of your powerful memories?  I’m not just talking the usual ones like baptisms, births and deaths, marriages and the like. What are some life changing moments that took you by surprise and left you reeling in despair or overwhelmed with joy?  I remember the one solo tackle I got in pee wee football (caught the running back from behind before he crossed the line of scrimmage).  I remember my first kiss (my braces got in the way). I remember when Lenore and I received our graduate degrees in the mail and a positive pregnancy test the same day (we celebrated at a pricey but awesome seafood buffet in Indianapolis). I remember the sick feeling in my stomach when I stood in my son’s room after dropping him off at Harding (I cried).  I remember Jim Caveman, then an elder at the Northeast Church of Christ, calling and offering me the job at the church (that’s worked out pretty well).

            Memories are formative.  They alter our course for life.  They affect the choices we make for better or for worse.  They knit together a fabric of likes and dislikes, of pleasure and pain, of rewards and consequences.  They form a tapestry that tells the story of who we are and helps us to determine who we are to be. 

            The formative nature of memory creates an imperative for Christians that demands God be a thread running through the tapestry of the past and in ever increasing measure defines and shapes the tapestry of the future.

Solomon reminds his readers to “Remember your creator in the days of your youth before the days of trouble come and the years approach when you will say – ‘I find no pleasure in them…’” (Ecclesiastes 12:1).  When “the God thread” runs strong in the tapestry of your past it strengthens your ability to cope with the struggles of the future.

            I write this heading into the Memorial Day weekend.  Memorial Day is a day of remembrance.  We remember those who made a difference in our lives and in many cases were willing to give their lives to protect us.  It is a sobering exercise but also valuing to remember those who had a passion for us, who believed in us and told us we were of great worth.  Some believed that we were worth dying for.  How fitting it is for us to honor those who were willing to pay the ultimate price for friends, family and countrymen.  Their sacrifice leaves a bold watermark in our tapestry, one that symbolizes the freedom we have to make our own choices and live without fear of our enemies or under the heel of an oppressive government or ideology.  That honor should live well beyond the single day set aside for that purpose.

            Each day, we would do well to pause to remember the sacrifice of God’s son, an icon for God’s great love for us.  Though that memory erupts from writings nearly two thousand years old, its thread connects our tapestry with that of so many others since the time it happened. In each tapestry the thread bears the same message in many languages, “sinner saved by the grace of God”.

            Memories are powerful.

Remember all that God has done for you.

The Rising of the Son

There's nothing like a sunrise over the water. Even better is seeing a sunrise over the water while clutching a fishing pole with the sound of soft sloshing of water and the feel of the gentle roll of the waves under a boat.  I don't exactly know why it is so exciting to feel the almost imperceptible nudge of a fish inspecting the bait at the end of the line but I know it is.  Then when that nudge becomes an unmistakable tug of a creature that has inhaled the bait, the adrenaline rush is on.  There's a frantic pull as the fish attempts to flee from the threat and when impeded by the fishing rod, there's a shake as the fish thrashes about trying to free itself from the hook in its mouth. This resistance pattern repeats itself over and over again until the exhausted creature finally relents and presents itself at the surface beside the boat.  I don't know that it is possible to ever get enough of that contest with the creatures of the deep but I know I never seem to get enough.  After releasing the fish or better yet detaining him for a dinner meeting later, the thing I most want to do is to put more bait on the hook and get it back in the water.  Perhaps the best thing about fishing is that there is no such thing as a bad day of fishing.  Even when you catch nothing or the big one gets away or you fall in the stream and fill your waders with cold river water, its still a pretty good day. 

During the week before Easter, called "Passion Week" by many, I am  mindful of another sunrise. Nearly 2,000 years ago a group of women made their way up a steep rocky trail just as the sky above the Mount of Olives just east of Jerusalem in Israel began to turn a creamsickle orange.  They each had the knot of grief in their stomachs as they made their way somberly toward their destination.  It had been a difficult weekend to say the least.  Their teacher, a man named Jesus, whom they believed to be God's Messiah, had been arrested, tried and crucified.  His body had been rushed to a borrowed grave so the Jewish leaders could celebrate their Passover Feast in peace.  It had been painful to eat the Passover meal where they were supposed to remember how God had delivered them all the while feeling the opposite.  It seemed that God had abandoned them.  How could something that had seemed so right have gone so wrong?  Still, they had a job to do.  The body of the Lord had not been properly prepared for burial because there had not been enough time so they were on a mission to administer the aromatic herbs and spices to show their final respects before closing the tomb for good.  What a surprise they received.  Instead of finding a cold, dark, closed tomb they found the entry way open, a large stone having been removed and angels illuminating the whole area by their brightness.  They were told that their Lord, this Jesus, was actually quite alive after God raised him from the dead.  I can only imagine the incredible celebration among these women and the other disciples of Christ as they realized this truth.

Only later did his disciples grasp the enormous gravity of the resurrection.  They began to realize that his death and resurrection were a part of God's plan of salvation for all who would receive it.  They realized and told the world that through the death and resurrection of Christ we have hope.  Death no longer has any victory over us.  The oppressive finality of death has been lifted and the hope of living for eternity has been realized.  This changed everything.  It changed how Christians lived when they know they don't "just go around once".  It changed how they faced death seeing it as a new beginning rather than an end. It changed how they grieved the loss of loved ones knowing that just as they would see Jesus face to face one day, so would they see those who have gone before.

I hope that the next time I watch the sun rise I am holding that fishing pole and waiting for any sign that a finned friend has shown some interest in what I am offering.  I hope too that I will again be reminded in the rising sun and start of a new day that God has given me new life in Jesus.  He has given me hope eternal in his resurrection and he has shown me his eternal love through the mercy and grace offered at the cross. I may have bad days here on earth but I know that with God's love and mercy surrounding me, every day is still a pretty good day.

Days 8, 9, and 10

 Cheney Lake

 View of Anchorage from Flattop Mountain

 View of the Kachemak Bay from the Homer Overlook

 Jesse Elmore with his Halibut

 Irish Lord Fish

Portage Glacier and Lake Below

Friday in Girdwood was probably the best day of all in terms of weather.  The sun was shining and lots of blue sky.  I left my little rented chalet and drove to Anchorage to meet with Jesse for our trip back down the Kenai Peninsula.  I was able to take some pictures around Anchorage and got some especially good shots around a park with a lake in it called Cheney Lake.  Autumn has already arrived in Alaska and the leaves are beginning to change colors.  The locals are dreading another long winter but it is inevitable.  They will probably have their first snow within the next 2-3 weeks (around the first of October) and it will not melt until around the first of May.  That is a long time with snow!  Jesse and I headed down the Seward Highway and spent the night with his parents.  When we arrived Jesse's dad and brother (Mike) were making final preparations to leave on a moose and bear hunting trip up in the Tok area (east - central Alaska).  It took them about 10 hours to get to their hunting grounds and they plan to stay there for 2 weeks.  On Saturday morning, we wished them luck and watched them pull away in a big Ford F350 diesel pulling an 20+ foot trailer with two 8 wheeled ATV's in which they would drive the last 15 miles back off of the road to their camp.  Talk about remote!! After waving goodbye, Jesse and I headed south to his Uncle Dave's house where we helped him hook his boat and trailer to his truck and continued south to Homer, Alaska.  Homer is on the southern-most tip of the peninsula on the Kachemak Bay.  Another absolutely stunning scene unfolded as we pulled off at the overlook and saw the little town and the bay and the mountains all around.  The pictures just cannot do it justice.  After buying bait and preparing the boat, we launched and headed out in the bay looking for the famous Alaskan halibut.  Halibut are bottom dwellers and are known to frequent the depths.  It is not unusual to fish for them in 100 - 300 feet of water or more.  A simple hunk of herring on a huge hook taken to the bottom by a pound of lead was the rig.  Fishing was slow.  Dave was not a fishing guide but fished a lot.  He said we would just have to try different spots until we found the fish.  We caught little, in fact Jesse, my gracious host was the only person to boat fish.  He reeled up one decent sized halibut but also caught 2 sharks and an Irish Lord fish (see my pictures - it is the ugly one with the big mouth).  I caught nothing but felt lots of bites and nibbles.  It was still a magnificent trip.  I hope to have the opportunity to do it again. We spent the night at the Elmores and went to church with them on Sunday morning before Jesse and I headed back to Anchorage.  On the way to Anchorage we stopped by the Portage Glacier for some photo ops.  There were still huge hunks of ice in the lake at the foot of the glacier.  We also spotted a bunch of spawned out salmon in a stream nearby.  The fish are just in the last hours of life after expending their energy swimming upstream to spawn.  Once the task is complete they die.  Many had already done so making the area reek of dead fish. Still, it was cool to see! Sunday night we cooked some of the halibut (my absolute favorite fish to eat!)   Monday morning we got up and ate at Snow City Cafe.  It was a wonderful breakfast place.  I had eggs benedict over salmon cakes.  It was real good!  As I write this I am waiting to go to the airport to board my plane and head back home.  I dread the long overnight flight but am really looking forward to seeing my family again.  The Alaskan Adventure was wonderful but cannot compare to one hug from Lenore, Anna and Lizzy.  There is nothing better than that!  I can't wait to see Sam later this month too.  I really miss that boy!  Thank you for reading my blog and keeping up with my adventure.  Thanks also to the Northeast Church of Christ whose elders and members made this possible by granting me the opportunity to make this happen.  I can't imagine working for a better group of people! 

Day 7 - In Alaska

The rain finally gave up today.  It was a very nice sunny day with temperatures in the 60's.  The day started out with writing but I was anxious to get out and see the sights.  I was able to ride the tram today that goes from the Alyeska Ski Resort here in Girdwood to the top of the mountain.  My chalet is in the lower level of a couple's home.  The lady of the house, Laura works at the Resort and was kind enough to get  me an employee's ticket to ride the tram (Thank you Laura!).  The sights were breath taking (as was the hike on up to the top of the mountain!).  I was able to take some great pictures of the mountains surrounding Girdwood and the Turnagain arm.  Some of the mountains had snow covered peaks already.  They will start getting regular snow here soon. When I came 'down from the mountain' I was thrilled to catch a little of the first NFL game of the season.  The Packers beat the Saints.  I didn't get to see much of it but it is good to be in football season again.  I had to leave because I had dinner plans to eat with Roger and Erin Full.  The Fulls moved to Anchorage from Cincinnati 6 years ago.  Since then they have added Levi, now an active, outgoing, precious little 2 year old boy.  We had pizza and caught up on each other's life.  It was really great to see them.  On the way back to Girdwood from their house I saw my first moose!  It was so exciting!  I saw him in a little field off of the highway.  I did a turn around as quickly as possible and pulled into a little parking area near where the moose was.  I was able to take several pictures of the young bull and a video of him raking a little tree with his (relatively) small horns.  After leaving him I also saw a wild sheep on the side of a sheer cliff over the road.  There was a place to pull off near it as well.  I got some pictures and moved on.  When I turned onto the road leading up into Girdwood, I saw several cars stopped at the side of the road. As I began to pass I saw what had happened.  One of the cars had hit a young moose.  It was lying in the road, trying to get up but its broken legs would not allow it.  The mother moose was standing there by it as if to try to help.  The car only had minor damage and the man driving was not injured - a lucky thing because alot of drivers are killed in moose-car accidents.  Moose are just the right (wrong?) height that when a car hits their legs they fall into the windshield often killing a driver. He asked me to call the authorities which I did. A crowd assembled but the female moose stayed right by her stricken young. The young moose was able to drag itself off of the road in a scene that could only be described as horrible and pitiful.  Eventually, a state trooper came to make a report for the driver and call charities to come and get the moose.  Charities process the animal and supply the meat to food banks and homeless shelters.  It was amazing to be so close to those massive animals. God's creation continues to amaze!  Tomorrow I plan to go with Jesse Elmore back down to Kenai.  We hope to do some fishing along the way and then go to Homer and go after halibut in the ocean on Saturday. Should be fun!

Day 6 In Alaska

It was another rainy day.  I guess God really did want me to get some writing done.  I worked on a chapter of my book throughout the morning and made some progress.  Writing for me is slow work but rewarding.  I am looking forward to hearing what some of you think of it when you read it.  It is rough right now but I believe there is value in it.  I wrote into the afternoon hours and finally decided to get ready and drive to Anchorage for food.  While on the way I called Rachel Elmore and she and her husband invited me over for dinner.  Taco Salad never tasted better than at Rachel and Jesse's with moose burger for the meat!  We then went out for some ice cream before returning to Girdwood.  I still hope for better weather soon.  Tomorrow night I have plans to eat with Roger and Erin Full, former members at Northeast who moved to Anchorage several years ago.  I look forward to seeing what they have been up to! More news tomorrow.