The Mainline Minister

The impossible seems to have occurred these last couple of weeks.  The constant stream of news to which we have grown accustomed these past three years has turned into a raging river.  It has been, to borrow a phrase, like drinking water from a fire hose.  Alerts are constantly popping up on my phone, the headline story on the NY Times web site is essentially a rolling update of the latest thing to happen, and it's all getting to be too much - and I'm a news junkie. We'd do fine with less news, I believe.  People made it though the Second World War with a newspaper a day, and maybe an evening radio report.  But maybe the real problem is the kind of news we get, the stories that focus our attention.  Click-bait; celebrity break ups; stuff that really doesn't matter in the big scheme of things.  Do I need to know the latest dopey things spouted by a politician during this coronavirus crisis?  Honestly, no.  But the latest from health authorities so I ca

We've reached that point in Lent where many of us want it to be over.  We want Holy Week.  We want Easter.  And, yes, we want chocolate or in my case, coffee.  But as with any journey to a specific destination, it takes so much time to get there, no ifs, ands, or buts.  We can be like the proverbial whiny child in the back seat of the car who incessantly asks "Are we there yet?" and as much as we hope for a surprising answer, we will be told "No." Lent runs for six and one half weeks.  We should not rush it.  We need this time.  And if we're distracted by the news or events or own impatience, perhaps we need to redouble our Lenten disciplines.  Some wag on line has remarked that this is the Lentiest Lent yet.  Perhaps.  What I know is that this is the Lent we have.  Let us live into for all it's worth.  After all, we're nearing the conclusion. Really.

This is the last "regular" week of Lent.  Next Sunday will move into Holy Week, with all of its drama. But nothing feels "regular" or "normal" these days, our schedules are off killer, our daily routines are being reset.  Still, I would encourage us to focus not on the chaos that surrounds us, but on the anchors in our lives.  It is those moorings that help us to endure the storm.  And while the winds may howl and the rains fall, the tempest will someday be over. We often forget that.  We often forget that we each have an anchor named Jesus.  This Lent, which is still not over, let's ask Jesus to forgive us for the times we may have forgotten him, and let's turn to him to help reinforce the patterns in our lives, the ones that help us to live.

As most of my readers know, I preach extemporaneously; this isn't ad-libbing and it isn't memorization.  Extemporaneous preaching involves so much more -- I know my text, I know what I want to say, and I do multiple run throughs, honing what I want to preach, adjusting my message, and stumbling across new insights before I stand up in the puplit on Sunday morning.  This preparation involves a lot of time and preparation, but I believe I'm able to make a better connection with the congregation.  One upshot of all this is that late Saturday afternoons and evenings are work time.  Sometimes, early Sunday morning, too, as I want to get things right. Now all of that is on hiatus.  Due to doing ministry in these strange times, I need to write my sermon out, edit and re-edit, before it's done.  At first, I needed to do this so I would have something to email the congregation.  Now we're supplementing what we email with internet services.  And that create

Late yesterday afternoon the governor of New Hampshire issued a stay-at-home order effective 11:59 tonight.  We here in the Granite State will be joining tens of millions of others and so many more around the world in what amounts to a lock down.  The excitement never stops these days, does it? We've been living with this coronavirus for most of this year.  I recall sitting in a hospital ethics committee meeting in late January discussing what would be the right and prudent thing for our community's medical center to do.  This was a good bu pretty generic conversation.  The reported cases in mainland China at that point amounted to a few hundred.  The threat was real but barely visible.  We talked about the need for the hospital to be addressing this before the crisis broke.  Fortunately, they did.  But our local health care providers are still facing a once-in-a-lifetime pandemic.  The tsunami is going to hit.  All of this has me wondering.  Why do we n

You'll recall that yesterday I wrote about the irony tech mishap that got in the way of a phone call about using ... technology.  Well, today, I have more irony for you, but it's of the kind where everything works out in the end. No sooner had I pressed the send button on my Wednesday reflection, the zoom call connected and got underway. Problem solved, perspective gained, let's move on.  The lesson form all of this is this: no matter how bad, how messed up, how confused things seem, they will normally be alright.  And no matter  what, God will be with us.  We all too often forget that and this Lent is a time to remember this lesson of the faith from Advent. Emmanuel. God (is) with us.

Don't you just love irony?  I know I do - at least when it's in a show or play or book.  When it happens to me, not so much.  I'm supposed to be on a zoom call about technology use in churches.   I'm not because of technical difficulties.  Talk about irony. So what to do?  Well, I'm alternative use of my time - like writing this reflection.  And I'm not fretting, at least not too much.  After all, there's nothing I can do about the problem.  I've checked and it's on the other end.  Oh well. Lent is a time to reflect on lots of things - including the time we waste worrying over things beyond our control.  Every minute of every day is a gift from God.  It's a generous give, but not an endless one.  As the Scripture tells us, we have only so much time, and then it's over.  Let's make use of it in ways that would please the Lord.

The weather here in Northern N.H. is confused.  When I woke up this morning I found that 5 inches of snow had fallen.  Sure, this was good for the resevoirs and water table, but come on, its almost April!  I know that weather at this time of year is often unpredictable, but was this really necessary?  It's all so confusing - I'm pretty sure I saw a couple of flowers making their way through the earth the other day.  Now they're blanketed. This odd weather is of a piece with our confusing times.  We make our way through Lent, with its discomfort as we examine our hearts and confront our sins, to the sure certainty of Easter, when we know that Jesus is resurrected.  Until then, accept that you might be confused, lost, wondering what is going on.  But know that God's love is coming, is indeed here with us now, and that should make it easier to find our way forward.

Life in our "new normal" requires lots of juggling.  School has moved on-line, errands have to be scheduled, and people accommodated.  Handling all of this will require creativity, patience, and a willingness to try new things.  At some point, tensions will likely manifest themselves.  Technology may not work as advertised.  We may lose our temper with another person.  I'm sure you can think of things to add to this list.  I know I will. As we move into this fourth week of Lent, it's a good time for us to once again take stock of our shortcomings, and see how they can lead to sin.  Being tetchy isn't a sin.  Letting your tetchiness lead you to snap at someone can be.  As the old saying supposedly goes, a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.  Watch your feet before you walk.  Watch your hands as you juggle.  Look into your hear for God's love to support and sustain you.  

I upgraded my computer operating system yesterday and I can confidently report that I am conflicted.  I am sure this change is doing all sorts of wonderful things behind the scenes, that my gigabytes are byting and my hard drive is purring with new found vigor.  But some of the changes, especially to the Word programs I run on my mac, are irritating.  Why mess up what is working really well?  Change just because some designer is feeling clever isn't always a good thing.  In this crazy world of ours, having some things that don't change, that we can always count on, can provide a welcome source of comfort or strength. Fortunately, we Christians have that something: Jesus Christ, who Scripture tells us, is "the same, yesterday, today, and forever." (Hebrews 13:8)  In this fast-paced, upside-down time of ours, knowing that we can count on the Man from Nazareth, the Messiah, enables us to contend with quarantines, social distancing, even funky new softwar

As most of my readers know, I’ve been giving up coffee for Lent for many years now.   I usually drink a few cups a day, so this gives me an opportunity to reflect on this Lenten season multiple times, every day.   When I first started this, I had to break a caffeine addiction, but that eventually passed.   Still, I must deal with the absence of my favorite morning beverage.   It is fortunate, then, that I know this will come to an end, very early on the morning of April 12.   But I will have to wait for some other things, and I don’t know when they will come back: The camaraderie of coffee hour, the baristas at Lucky’s that know my name, and beyond this coffee situation, this whole darned coronavirus to become something that happened, and not something that is happening, to us. The wait for something indeterminate can be hard and frustrating.   But it can be done.   One of the values of our Lenten disciplines, if we have adopted any, is learning how to wait.  

Yes, spring has arrived.  Despite yesterday's light snowfall and the predicition of more wintry weather in a couple of days, spring has indeed arrived.  To make that point, the mercury is supposed to reach into the 60s today.  How will you take advantage of this?  One thing I know we should not do is succumb to a coronavirus-induced funk.  Take a walk or a run or a bicycle ride when it's not raining (sorry, but afternoon showers are part of the forecast along with the season change), maybe you can grill something tonight, or being a little gardening.  Whatever you do, remember this is the season of new beginnings.  In a few short weeks we will celebrate Easter, somehow, in some place, because we in the church believe in and should act upon God's promise made real in Jesus' resurrection.

"Be safe" - two simple words that have taken on a new urgency, a new poignancy in the present moment.  Before the coronavirus outbreak, we would encourage our children to be safe when playing outside, a spouse to be safe when undertaking a home improvement project involving saws or power tools, a loved one traveling to an unsettled part of the world.  All par for the course.  Now, we wonder about touching someone or breathing on another person.  Be safe.  But does this mean that we stop living?  That we give up all that makes life worthwhile?  No, you can still talk with friends, see friends - as long as you engage in social distancing.  But a few weeks, even a few months of inconvenience is the least we can endure in light of a pandemic the likes of which humanity hasn't seen in a very long time. Why go on about this now?  Well, it's Lent.  A season in which we gain perspective as we reflect on our sins.  To indulge in self-pity can be a sin.  Yes,

The desert, in Scripture, is portrayed a wasteland to pass through, a place of danger, a home to trouble - and as a necessary stop on the way to the future.  The Children of Israel sojourned there, Moses fled there, and, as we recount during this Lenten season, Jesus retreated there.  If you think back to these stories, you'll remember that the desert might be many unpleasant things, but one thing it is not is empty.  Temptation lurks there, and so does disobedience.  But also wonders and if one is alert, God himself, as Moses discovered. Don't misunderstand me: the odds of you encountering a burning bush that is not consumed by fire are pretty much nil.  But during this year's Lent, which has suddenly become charged with the arrival of the coronavirus, be aware of the temptations - to despair, to be angry, to lash out from boredom or stress, and be aware of grace - God's presence is near to each of us, ready to comfort, support, and encourage us.  I

I normally don't go for puns in these messages, but this just seemed appropriate.  The local Irish pub has a bagpiper out front playing his instrument but there won't be any revelry as they announced yesterday they'd be closed for the duration of the coronavirus outbreak.  Making matters even sadder, it's cold and overcast and a light snow is falling this morning.  All of this is, indeed, blah inducing. It's easy right now to feel sorry for ourselves.  But if we reflect on our reality, most of us are pretty well off in this situation.  We have roofs over our heads, access to food, TV, internet.  If the worse thing that happens to us over the next few weeks is an acute case of boredom, we won't have much to complain about.  This is a crisis with severe ramifications but it isn't the Black Death, where a quarter of the population died. Perhaps this is a bit Pollyanish of me. But I think as we deal with this situation, we must maintain ou

Well, our strange little world keeps getting weirder.  Everybody has shut things down for two to three weeks just in time for the CDC to say we should prepare to disengage for eight weeks. I have no reason to doubt this advice.  But I wonder how people are doing with all of this.  Most of us have seen at least one movie with an Apocalyptic theme.  Whatever the plot, every such film shares this in common: they're usually over in two hours and then we can return to our lives. This time it's different.  The run time is 9,408 hours and the movie is our lives.  Can you imagine almost 10,000 hours of drinking water from a fire hose and being bored out of your mind?  I can't.  But that's where we are.  Time will crawl and time will speed by as we process and experience this event.  Through it all, we'll adjust.  And to help us keep track of the days will be Lent. Many of us could make better use of our time.  Lent is at time to reflect on this, to re

By now, everybody is familiar with the clunky, anti-septic phrase: Social Distancing.  While it's not elegant, it tells us what we need to know.  Stay away from crowds, keep your distance.  For those of us in the church, it's an especially weird thing to do.  We not only have worship services, but meetings, and visits, and so many other activities that involve being with other people.  For many of us, that has now changed. But how much?  We anticipate this all coming to an end.  Unlike some awful Apocalyptic movie, there will be significant disruption, but no end to civilization as we know it.  Sooner or later, and I like most everybody else pray sooner, life will resume its normal rhythms.  Perhaps people will be yearning for actual social contact and will have grown bored with binge watching TV.  Imagine a world where social media is less important and getting together with others takes on new importance.  A crazy dream?  Perhaps not.  Consider if you'

This past week has been mind-boggling with the news moving at breakneck speed and yesterday was no different.  At church, we've suspended services and are making plans to get worship materials into people's mailboxes tomorrow morning.  We've communicated with our community partners about our closure.  So, plans were made, and all is well, right? Not quite.  This pandemic is like a wave coming at us.  We can see it clearly, but it has not yet crested nor broken.  Things will most likely get worse before they get better.  What does this mean for us as Christians?  We are not to give up hope.  We know that after Good Friday, Easter Sunday will follow.  So for now we pray, we find ways to remember we're part of a community, we listen to health experts, and we continue with our lives. Lent is a time for us to reflect and repent, but also a time for us to remind ourselves of the presence of God.  Jesus came to us, not to make our problems simply vanish,

Do you feel like there's too much going on right now?  Politics, the economy, coronavirus, the list goes on.  Even though the NCAA has cancelled its annual basketball Bacchanalia, and millions of office pools have now been stowed away, we sure are going to have March Madness this year.  If you don't believe, just open the paper, boot up your computer, or turn on a television: it's crazy out there right now. In the midst of all the nuttiness, all the weirdness in our lives, we are blessed to have the God we know in Jesus and through the Holy Spirit by our side.  He is our rock as the storm rages, our comfort in uncertain times.  He is our rock and our redeemer.  This is always worth remembering, but especially so during Lent.  We all too often turn to other refuges, some even unhealthful, during moments of crisis.  It's in those moments especially that we should remember that God love us, that God is waiting for us. So, if you're still looking

FDR said it best, "We have nothing to fear but fear itself."  These days, there's a lot of fear going around.  Political. Economic. And, of course, viral.  The truth is, fear in some quantity is not a bad thing.  Fear of being eaten keeps most of us from poking our heads into the bear cage.  But like most things in life, moderation is called for.  We cannot let ourselves be slaves to fear, to worship fear.  When we do that, we stop worshiping God.  So during these uncertain times, let us resolve to draw on the grace of our Lord, to face fear confidently, wisely, humbly, to not let fear shape our lives.

This morning I heard birdsong.  It was lovely, it was delightful, it was welcome.  There's enough bad news in the world these days that some joy is welcome.  Even in the midst of Lent, a season of penitence, we can still marvel at the beauty of God's creation and remember that this season will end, not in sadness, but in the celebration of Easter.  Praise God!

I'm writing this much later than expected for a variety of reasons I won't get into.  But at least I'm writing it.  And I think that's an important thing to keep in mind during the Lenten season.  You may have a discipline -- and at some point you may slip up and forget to forego that chocolate or coffee.  But guess what?  You need not fret.  You haven't failed in any cosmic sense.  You just need to pick yourself up and resume your discipline.  There's always a "later" available to the one doing penance.  Just make sure "later" doesn't become "never" and you'll be okay.  So will I.  After all, God is looking at the intent behind our practices and not just the mechanics.  So should we.

I'm up early today, heading to Boston for a meeting at the Congregational Library.  You'll probably be asleep when I sent this and I'm jealous of you.  Still, I look forward to all this day holds in store.  As I've noted before, this is the day the Lord has made.  This day.  We are called to live it to the fullest, inasmuch as we can.  And to do that, we may need to repent for things we've done, actions we've taken that have led us away from the God who made us.  Everyday, we have a chance to reflect on what we might do -- and we should not have done.  We do this not to engage in some kind of spiritual self abuse, but so we might clear the decks of our spiritual obstacles and be prepared to enjoy what God has in store for us.

How often do we try to see things from someone else's perspective?  Do we do this often? Do we even try?  If we're honest with ourselves, we may be surprised by our answers.  I've been mulling this over the past few days and I think that one of the fears we have is that if we do this, if we really empathize, we will lose ourselves.  How can we be expected to give up our most cherished beliefs and practices? To this question, I offer a simple reply: nobody is telling you to do this.  Empathizing may well take us to a new place, but it may also return us home - but not after some new perspectives, some additional knowledge, some real feeling. Lent is a time to repent for the sin of a failure to empathize, which can be a form of narcissism.  And the narcissistic have no room for God in their lives, do they? Let's repent, let's be a bit more empathetic today.

Tonight (or more accurately, tomorrow morning at 2:00 AM) we will set our clocks forward one hour and begin our annual ritual of thinking we are the masters of time.  We are not.  Never have been, never will be.  We may track it ever more precisely, but despite our best efforts, it still marches on.  The seasons pass, people age and die, the world goes on.  Nothing will really change other than I will lose an hours sleep before a busy day. I know I sound like the proverbial cranky old man yelling at kids to stay off his lawn but I think we have a bigger problem here, one that preoccupied the ancient Greek dramatists: hubris.  We think we are bigger, better, more important than we are.  It's not.  This isn't too say we're nothing, but to encourage a healthy sense of perspective, to see things for what they are, to acknowledge we are not at the center of the universe.  God is. So, another reason for us to repent during this Lent.  Let us repent for our h

Lent's almost over.  Really. Well, okay we still have more than five weeks left but I just looked at one of the bookcases in my office and saw a devotional about the Seven Last Words of Jesus -- that I bought for Holy Week last year.  And I've already bought a new volume for this year, without really getting to last year's book.  Where's all the time going?  As I get older, I ask this question more frequently.  But then another question comes to mind: why restrict reading about the Passion to Holy Week or Lent?  I've got all year.  I've got study leave.  I can make time to read both books, not to mention some others I have. Lent is a time to find new perspective, to apologize for our errors.  Creating false categories or limits, barriers to living the full life God wants for us is surely something for which we should repent. Then I'll start reading that book ...

We talk a lot during Lent about repenting and seeking forgiveness for our sins.  This is for good reason: we do sin, we do need God's help in getting things back on track.  But forgiveness is not only something we should want to receive, it's something we should be prepared to extend. I'm not one for armchair psychology, but I do know the emotional costs imposed by carrying around a grudge, no matter how seemingly justified.  The anger, the resentment, and yes, the solipsistic sense of importance we feel are consuming and, in the worst cases, all consuming.  And in the end, what do we get for all of this?  Not much, really.  Maybe a sense of short-lived satisfaction, but never true contentment. A few years ago parents of small children and those around them were bombarded with the hit song "Let It Go" from the movie Frozen.  Disney movies can be annoying, but they often have a lesson worth learning.  "Let It Go" is a good song, or a

There's a lot going in the world today, with an endless news cycle commanding one's attention.  Just as it seems one has a grip on what's happening, the next big thing breaks.  This has been a feature of our lives for a long time, but for a number of reasons it seems to have intensified over the past few years.  Ultimately, thought, we find ourselves wondering, "What's next?" What's the next development?  What's the next story?  What, what, what ... As Christians, we are blessed to have God by our side during trying times.  All to often, though, we push him aside, try to go it alone, and find the stress mounting.  Lent is a good time to reflect on this alienation and a great time to redress this problem.  So, what's next? How about some prayer and penitence.

The sun has not yet risen this morning.  If I didn't know better, I would think it would be dark all day.  Fortunately, I do know better and at some point relatively soon daylight will appear.  Lent is like this moment: darkness followed by light.  We take the moment now to reflect on what has gone wrong and seek ways to make changes.  Of course, we cannot do this alone.  We are in need of God's help.  Appreciate the darkness while it is here, long for the light that will come, give thanks for the One who makes all of this possible.

As many of you know, it's my Lenten practice to give up coffee for Lent.  It gives me an opportunity to think each day about Lent, what God has done for me, and what I should be doing during this season.  It does NOT make me feel holy or sanctified.  Just like I'm doing something I should be doing.  I considered giving up giving up coffee this year and was undecided until the last minute but then Ash Wednesday came and, bam, I was back to drinking tea.  Some of you might say, so what?  You're still getting a caffeine hit.  But that's not why I drink coffee.  I like the taste.  And as much as a good cup of tea is, it's not the same as coffee. What has struck me this Lent is how even old habits can feel new, how a flagging dedication can be revived.  Thanks to the Holy Spirit, my discipline doesn't leave me feeling that I'm just going through the motions.  Instead, this Lent feels live and important to me. That said, I still want my coffe

Though Lent began last Wednesday, today feels like the real start.  I don't know why, but it does.  Today, we begin our journey in worship, sharing communion, saying the prayer of confession, being a people who know the power of repentance.  Knowing something is not the same as doing it.  I know I should eat better, but I don't follow all the nutritional guidelines.  Repentance is the same thing.  We know what we need to do, but we often resist doing it.  Who likes to admit that what they have done is wrong, that one is a sinner?  Most of us don't.  But we need to.  We need to admit our failings before God, because only then can things be made right with God.  This is difficult work.  Fortunately, we have time.  It will be a long journey, but today it begins in earnest.