Such a Good Boy

Once there was a Good little boy.  People often told his mother, “What a Good little boy you have!” and it made her smile.  When the mother took the little boy to the grocery store, he would sit nicely in the cart.  The Good little boy did not try to climb out.  He did not reach for things on the shelves and he did not scream.  The cashier would say, “Your little boy is so Good!”

When he was in church, the little boy sat still in his seat.  He was so quiet that the people in church would say, “That is such a Good little boy!”  His mother and father both smiled. 

Everywhere he went, the little boy was Good.

Sometimes, the mother took the Good little boy to the playground.  The other children were noisy as they climbed and ran and jumped, but the Good little boy sat quietly on his mother’s lap and watched.

The little boy grew and went to school.  He was a Good boy in school, too.  He was so Good that the teacher called the boy’s mother. The teacher said, “I am worried about your boy.  He does not talk.”  The mother was sad then, because she knew the little boy talked very well at home.

Spring came and the little boy joined a soccer team.  He was a Good boy at soccer practice.  He listened carefully to his coach and tried to follow the coach’s directions.  In the soccer games, the Good boy did not kick the ball very much.  The other boys kicked the ball most of the time. 

At the end of the season, the soccer coach brought trophies for the boys.  While the other boys jumped around and shouted and tried to grab the trophies from the coach’s box, the Good boy stood quietly and waited.  When the coach had only one trophy left to hand out, he said, “All the boys are not here.  One boy must be gone today.”  But he was wrong.  The Good little boy had been standing right next to the coach the whole time.

In the summer, the little boy played T-ball.  When their team was up to bat, the other boys ran around in the dugout and tried to climb up the fence.  The coach said, “Sit down and wait for your turn.”  The Good little boy sat quietly and waited, but the other boys did not.  They ran out of the dugout to bat when it was not their turn.  The coach did not notice, so the Good little boy just kept waiting.

What a Good boy he was!

Wish You Were Here

A Reflection on John 20:19-30

Maybe you’re not like me.  Maybe you are and you just don’t want to admit that you secretly hate those spring break postcards that people send to you, the person who is stuck back at home, slogging through snow that long ago lost its appeal or staring out the window at depressing brownness. That card that comes in the mail (or, more likely now, it appears on Facebook or Twitter) with a picture of that intensely blue water, pure white sand and lush green palm trees honestly makes you seethe.

Look at that picture long enough and you can almost hear the soothing sound of ocean waves, feel the warm sun on your face, the gentle breeze carrying the smell of suntan lotion and taste that sweet pina colada.  Be honest, it’s enough to make you sick, isn’t it? The tweet or the status or the card usually says something to the effect, “Having a great time, wish you were here.” 

Oh yeah.  Thanks a lot.  Thanks for reminding me I am not enjoying spring break where you are.  Thanks for pointing that out for me. Can you hear my sarcasm? 

But once I get past that bitterness, I can appreciate that someone was thinking of me.  I can appreciate that they were experiencing something so good that they wanted to share it with me.  It’s just that a picture doesn’t quite do the job. When that person returns home and tells me more about their trip, it gives me a better impression of what it was really like to be there, but there’s still something lacking. 

That’s how I imagine Thomas felt when the other disciples told him “We have seen the Lord.”   When he responds, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe” I don’t hear him calling his friends liars.  What I hear is his frustration at not getting to have the same direct experience that they did.  Sort of like those T-shirts that say something like, “My parents went to Hawaii and all I got was this stupid shirt.” Thomas is not satisfied with getting the secondhand version of the story.  Thomas wants the real thing, which I think is why he is explicit to the point it almost makes us uncomfortable. 

I think Thomas is all of us, to some degree, but maybe not.  Maybe you haven’t experienced that feeling that you’re missing out.  Maybe you have grown up satisfied with hearing about Jesus from your parents, your grandparents, your pastor or someone else important in your life.  You are truly one of those who are blessed because you “have not seen and yet have come to believe.” 

If that is the case, I envied you, because it wasn’t enough for me.  I grew up going to church, but it just didn’t work. ‘Say this, do that’ all seemed to me a pointless endeavor, like playing one of those arcade games that is rigged so you can’t possibly win the big prize.  Watch the episode of Andy Griffith where Opie tries to win the shaver as a gift for his dad and you’ll see what I mean.

But God is not a crooked carnie and we see in this gospel text that locked doors and even disbelief will not stop Jesus.  Jesus finds a way through our barriers into our lives, sooner or later.  He will seek us out wherever we are hiding.  And when he does find us, we can’t help but want to share that experience.   

When we enjoy a wonderful vacation, we try to capture and preserve it.  We take pictures and pick up souvenirs in the hope that we can hold on to or re-create that time.  And so it is with our faith experiences; we have those memories, whether they are the sounds of a choir, the organ or the words of a hymn.  It may be the sight of the cross above the altar or the smell of Easter lilies.  We long for those things that mean for us Jesus is there.  They evoke some powerful emotions.

Each of us experiences Jesus in different ways, which leads us to argue among ourselves over what is the best way to share Jesus. Some of us are touched through music and others through liturgy.  Even the position of our bodies can play a part.  Kneeling does something important for some people while raising open hands fills that need for others.

For me, communion is especially meaningful.  Here and now, as it was then and there in that room, we have an opportunity to meet Jesus in a most personal and intimate way.  Through communion, we may see and touch and taste wafers and wine, but it is Jesus who is present in a very real sense, not simply a remembrance or a ritual re-enactment. 

Christ is alive.  Looking at beautiful photos won’t make it real for you and I am at a loss to express adequately with words how I know that is so.  All I can do is tell you that I am having a great time and I wish you were here so you could, too.  Come to church and see.

But I Don't Wanna!

Abba, Father, for you all things are possible; remove this cup from me; yet, not what I want, but what you want. (Mark 14:36).

Have you ever had to do something you really didn’t want to do?  In Jesus’ case, you could argue that he knew what was coming and what the outcome would be, so that made it somehow easier for him to be obedient to God.  But even with the benefit of that divine perspective, Jesus in his humanity seems to feel some hesitation.  Can you blame him?  Suffering and dying on a cross certainly tops anything I’ve had to endure in my life so far.

Certainly we’ve all had to go through some extremely difficult circumstances; sometimes we see them coming but many times they are unexpected.  Sometimes we have a choice and sometimes we don’t.  Have you noticed, though, that it is often the most challenging situations that teach you the most?

 

Several years ago, just about the time our new pastor was arriving, our church secretary was offered a new job that was too good to turn down.  I volunteered to fill in until a replacement could be found.  Had I ever anticipated that I would be working in a church office? Not in a million years.  Was I prepared for the job?  No.  I had no secretarial training and no office experience of any kind.  I had never even used a copy machine.

As it turned out, people weren’t exactly beating at the door to get that job, so eventually it was suggested that maybe I could just stay on.  A dear friend of mine had been a church secretary, so I asked for her advice.  She told me to “run away as fast as you can.”  But I didn’t run.  Something told me I should stay (and it wasn’t just the pastor), so I did.  Was it difficult?  Yes, but I learned more through that experience than I ever could have anywhere else outside of a seminary.  And I learned some valuable lessons they don’t teach there, too.

Maybe it’s blasphemous to even consider, but what if Jesus had said that he’d given the matter careful and prayerful consideration, but decided this just wasn’t something he was equipped to do?  Thanks, but no thanks.  Without getting into too much of the various atonement theories, I think we can safely say that without the crucifixion, there is no resurrection, no Easter without Good Friday.  By passing on the cup that is before us, we may be able to avoid some pain, but what might we miss out on in the process?

Sometimes we don’t have any choice but to face the challenges put before us.  Cancer, depression or other illness, death of a loved one, loss of a job, divorce, tornados and floods are all ‘cups’ we would rather pass on if we could.  Yet, I have found that it is when I have been confronted with the worst, I have learned the most about faith. 

Things must have seemed awfully dark for the disciples, too.  Their beloved Jesus was dead; hung on a cross right along with the other criminals.  It wasn’t at all what they expected.  It wasn’t right.  It wasn’t fair.  Jesus didn’t deserve that.  What happened to all the good times they thought the Messiah would bring them?  Their plans, their hopes, were ruined.

In a crazy way, the cross, a symbol of suffering, pain and death, becomes for us a symbol of hope.  Hang on to it, because the story isn’t over yet.  It wasn’t for Jesus and it isn’t for us. 

This is part of a hymn that provided great comfort to me at one of those dark times.  It speaks of God’s presence throughout all of our struggles and a hope we can find only in the cross.

       

                    I fear no foe, with thee at hand to bless; 

                    ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness.

                    Where is death's sting? Where, grave, thy victory? 

                    I triumph still, if thou abide with me. 

                    Hold thou thy cross before my closing eyes;

                    shine through the gloom and point me to the skies.

                    Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee;

                    in life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.

                                        (from Abide With Me, lyrics by Henry F. Lyte)