The Mainline Minister

At one level, it's not much, but we affixed a rainbow stripe to the sign in front of our church yesterday.  On another, though, it's a big deal.  We've announced to the wider community in a way that is visible every day and every night, regardless of the hour, that we're open and indeed welcoming of all who might cross our front step.  For many of us, this is a non-issue.  We've been welcome our entire lives.  But for some of us, this is a big deal: we've never felt truly welcome.  This stripe may not completely obviate our feelings of exclusion, but hopefully it will help. Lent is a time to not only repent through prayer and meditation but through actions, large and small.  What would be the equivalent for you of placing a rainbow stripe on a sign?  What's keeping you from doing this?  Fortunately, there's still more than two weeks until Easter to do something positive.

This morning when I opened my email I found a reminder to do something that has a deadline.  I wasn't expecting the prompt, but was grateful for its arrival.  Now, I just have to act on it! Lent can be this way, too.  Throughout this season, we receive reminders in ways large and small, expected and surprising, to focus on repairing our relationships with God and God's people.  Sometimes we'll notice these encouragements, other times we'll miss them but we can count on their coming our way.  We just need to be watchful.  Though the season of Lent is drawing to a close, more prompts will be coming.  Of that we can be sure.  We just need to be attentive.  And then we need to follow through.

How's your Lent so far?  Have you given any thought to this question?  If so, how would you answer?  Good, bad, empty, meaningful?  If not, why have you not considered the matter? I ask all of these questions because Lent should be a work in progress, a vocational activity that can change, grow, adapt, and adjust.  Our disciplines during this season should be organic, alive, evolving.  If things get stale, that's a sign we need to stop and reflect.  This is not a time for going through the motions, not if we really are looking forward to repenting, reconciling, and renewing. So take a moment.  Check in.  There's still almost two and a half weeks until Easter -- lots of time for a Lenten course adjustment.

My computer is old enough that its operating system can no longer be updated.  Technically, it's obsolete.  Yet here I am on email, typing this message, which I will be able to send to you, then post to different web sites.  True, I may not be able to access the latest app, but I can't say that is somehow having a negative impact on my overall quality of life.  So just how obsolete is obsolete? Our culture tells us we need the newest, fastest, shiniest whatever it is that's out there.  But our experience tells us otherwise.  We can often more than get by, indeed, we can often be quite happy with what we currently have.  So why are susceptible to blandishments of marketers and others who tell us we need to trade up?  Part of it, I believe, is fear.  Fear of not having every resource, every advantage possible at our disposal as we make our way in a confusing, at times menacing world.  Fear that we are somehow not prepared f...

My work week runs from Monday up through Sunday.  It's with this in mind that I feel like I've turned a corner.  Yesterday, we worshiped in the round in the parish hall.  This coming Sunday we will return to the main Sanctuary.  Our services will be no less nor any more filled with the Spirit, but they will feel different. This change of venue and the preparations it entails makes me feel as if something about Lent has changed, too.  Perhaps it's because just two Sundays after our return to the Sanctuary we will celebrate Easter.  More of Lent is behind us than before us.  Yet there still is so much to do!  The temptation to look to the Feast of the Resurrection is strong, but now more than ever it is vital to remain grounded in Lent.  Yes, we can and we should prepare for what is to come.  But we also must tend to the present moment and its claim on us. So, yes, we've turned a corner.  But we haven't crossed the pr...

Today is Laetare Sunday.  This day is a celebration day, a reminder that Easter is now drawing near. In many liturgical traditions, it is an opportunity to take a break from one's Lenten disciplines. Sorry, but maybe this is the Puritan-inspired Congregationalist in me, but that sounds awfully, well, cheatish.  Oh, don't get me wrong.  I understand the reasoning.  And it makes sense to me.  But what's the point of having a discipline if you're going to take breaks from it?  Okay, that sounds a bit Pharasaical, doesn't it? The truth is, if I give up my Lenten disciplines today, it will be that much harder for me to resume them tomorrow and now that I've settled into my routine, I don't want to mess things up.  I'm not sure how holy that is, but it's the honest truth.  If I go get that cup of coffee today, I know I'll want to get one tomorrow.  Temptation and all that. Those of you who are stronger than me, enjoy yoursel...

In the Christian church, we observe Sabbath on Sunday, the day on which Jesus was resurrected.  We also do this because the early Christian church sought to distinguish itself from Judaism, with its honoring of the Sabbath, or Shabbat, on Saturday, the last day of the week, the one on which God rested after his labors.  Saturday is the day of the week on which Jesus would have rested. I'm not calling for us to change our practice, rooted in centuries of theology and tradition.  But I do think we'd benefit from the thought of experiment of trying to see Sabbath in new ways.  A different perspective might help us regain the meaning and power of the Day of Rest, an urgent need in our hectic modern lives. This Lent, let's try to live into Sabbath, to acknowledge that if God, the maker of the universe, the Lord of All Creation, could find to rest, so too can we.