We Are Easter People

I had been doing some reading, but it was going on 10:00 p.m. I turned off the floor lamp that I use while working and prepared to head to bed. Suddenly, my cell phone went off. I glanced at the number and sighed. In retirement I do hospital visitations for a chaplaincy service. It was one of my hospitals, and I suspected my late-night routine was about to be interrupted. I answered the call, and yes, it was a nurse. There had been a death, and the family had requested a chaplain. I asked for the name and room number, but neither was familiar. That is not unusual; I serve three hospitals, and among them there are over two hundred patients. I can’t see them all, but instead focus on those who have requested a visit or patients who are referred by the case managers.

In less than thirty minutes I was pulling into the parking garage at the hospital. I was relieved to see the security guard waiting for me. I wasn’t necessarily worried about my safety, but that meant I wouldn’t have to call upstairs to have someone let me into the building. After visiting hours the doors are locked. I exchanged greetings with the guard and headed to the elevators. He was a step behind me and reminded me that the family was waiting on the third floor. The antiseptic smell of the hospital was familiar, but the dimmed lighting and quiet made the atmosphere almost surreal. I was shocked when the doors opened and I was greeted by the laughing voices of children. A lounge to my left was filled with over a half dozen youngsters of various ages. They had gathered around a table where several board games were spread out. An older gentleman who was standing with them nodded to acknowledge my presence and then motioned down the hallway. I stopped at the nurses’ station to let them know I had arrived, but off in the distance I saw a group of men standing in casual conversation. As I neared the group, I was surprised to see smiling faces instead of the usual tearful ones. The men greeted me and thanked me for coming. “Grandma has gone to be with Jesus,” one of them reported. The others nodded, and I even detected a quiet, “Amen.”

I entered the room to find another dozen smiling faces surrounding the bed, where the corpse of the now departed loved one lay. One young girl held the hand of her grandmother and stroked her forehead with the other. I introduced myself and then listened as they all related their names and relationships to the deceased. I silently acknowledged that I would remember almost none of what they told me. Some of the men joined us, and I asked them to tell me about their departed loved one. They went on to tell me about a single mom who had raised eight children on her own in south Dallas. She had worked long hours as a housekeeper but still found time to cook, do the wash, and make sure all their homework was done. “We all graduated from Sunset High School,” one noted. Another related how holidays were always celebrated in her home, even though their family had grown to almost seventy-five. I learned that the woman had been active in her church and had taught a Sunday school class until her health had started to fail. They all reported that they still worshiped at the same church. “We wouldn’t want to disappoint her,” one noted. I reminded them of the need to “Live the legacy.”

I shared a couple of Scripture references with them, including the familiar words from John 14:1–3. I offered up a prayer placing the soul of the departed into the hands of our loving God. I told them that I would be available to them should they require further ministry, but they assured me their pastor would be helping them with arrangements. I walked back to my car acknowledging once again, Christians handle death differently. We are always people of hope.

That hope is rooted in the Resurrection.  Blessed Easter, 2016.

Reflections on the Passion

I am not a big fan of Hollywood or of network television for that matter.  I pretty much watch news and the sport and ignore the prime-time shows.  I made an exception Sunday evening.  I watched the Fox broadcast of The Passion.  It was a very contemporary account of Jesus’ last hours, set against the backdrop of New Orleans.  Unlike other attempt to dramatize Jesus death, this version was totally contemporary.  Instead of Roman Centurions, the arrest was made by police in full riot gear.  The encounter between Jesus and the two thieves (“today you will be with me in heaven”) took place in the back of a police van. 

I suppose some folks might have taken offense at some of the liberty the writers and producers took.  I could look past that because the gospel message was so strong.  Instead of exposing viewers to the violence and gore, the narrator, Tyler Perry, described the agony Jesus went through, and more importantly why he had to endure it.  His description was very accurate, but left the images to my imagination.  The presentation closed on a positive note; Jesus was not left on the cross or in the empty tomb.  A victorious Jesus appeared on the roof of a nearby hotel, singing about his conditional love for mankind.

What I found most reassuring about this presentation was that it was so personal.  The live audience was very much engaged.  I was also encouraged by the number of teens and young adults who were there.  While I was not familiar with most of the music, they obviously were because they were mouthing the words.   That was probably the most reassuring aspect.  So many young adults were not only captivated, but emotionally moved.  Maybe, just maybe some of them were hearing of Jesus love for them for the first time.  We need to continue to find ways to make Jesus real and personal to teens and young adults.  Only when that happens do we have the possibility to make them life-long disciples.

While musically and dramatically it was not exactly my cup or tea, I rejoice in the fact that so many members of the Millennial generation could identify with it.  That is what I believe is God-pleasing.

The Great Divide

I have always enjoyed the fellowship I find within the worship community.  Being part of a church family is not only comfortable, but reassuring.  I feel loved and supported.  My church family is there for me in the difficult times, just as I share in their grief and sorrow in their tough times.  Recent data released by the Barna Group has caused me to wonder if my desire to be with my “church friends” is always healthy.  At some point relationships become based on my needs and comfort level, rather than Jesus’ desire for me. In the garden he prayed to his Father, “As you have sent me into the world, I have sent them into the world.” (John 17:18)  If I limit my conversations to those within my comfort zone, my world becomes pretty small.

Most of us struggle when it comes to having a conversation with those who are different.  We feel comfortable with those who share our interest or faith perspective, but we avoid dialog with those who come from a different culture or religious tradition.  New statistics from the Barna Group highlight the extent of the conversational divide.  The research is included in the new book, Good Faith, written by Barna Group president David Kinnaman and Gabe Lyons. 

“This splintering and polarization of American culture has made it more difficult than ever to have a good conversation", notes David Kinnaman.  The study reveals just how difficult it is for most people to reach across these cultural divides.  A majority of Americans indicate that they think it would be difficult to have a natural and normal conversation with minority groups who are different than them.   Most Americans would struggle to have a conversation with a Muslim (73%), a Mormon (60%), an atheist (56%), or someone from the LGBT community (52%).

Christians are not immune.  Evangelicals seem to have a particularly difficult time talking to those outside their group. They report higher tensions than any other group when it comes to having conversations with those who are different from them.  Almost nine in 10 evangelicals (87%) believe it would be difficult to have a natural and normal conversation with a member of the LBGT community.  Evangelicals also struggle to converse with Muslims (87%) and Atheist and Agnostics (85%).

Probably most shocking is the extent to which Christians avoid conversation with those outside their circle of friends.  Almost three in ten (28%) of evangelical stated it would be difficult to have a conversation with another Evangelical.

I, for one, am going to take this to heart.  It might begin by taking time to talk to the clerk in the convenient store, or getting to know my Vietnamese neighbor a little bit better.  It could also mean spending time doing research on other cultures in an attempt to understand them more. 

There was a time when I needed to leave the country to go on a mission trip.  Today the world has come to my front door.  Now I need to overcome my anxiety, and step out of my comfort zone and get to know those who are different.  That is the first step in allowing them to see Jesus in me.

OBSERVATIONS AS I TURN SEVENTY

Over the weekend I celebrated a milestone birthday; I turned seventy.  I must admit I am surprised at how fast I got to this point.  Honestly, seventy does not feel that much different than sixty-nine.  We did have a great family celebration, and even my brother Jim and his wife Sandy joined us.  I think Jim, who is four years younger, felt I needed the moral support.  

The occasion did cause me to consider some things I have learned as I mark this milestone.

I have learned to speak less and listen more.  The world we live in is changing and the only way I can understand and minister to it is to seek to understand others and their perspectives. 

I need to earn the right to share my opinion.  That is especially the case when dealing with young people. 

Eating oatmeal every morning makes me a regular guy.  I also need to think about what I am eating.  Overall I am eating less but enjoying it more.

I am not ashamed to hit from the front tee box.  I cannot hit a golf ball the distance that I once could, so if they have senior tees, take advantage.  If I hit it straight and keep it in the fairway, I can still get a decent score.

I need to stretch every morning.  Most of my muscles need to be reminded daily what they are supposed to do.

It helps to stay positive and not worry: There is no sense in fretting about the future.  Today will provide unique opportunities that will only come my way once.  Enjoy it for what it is and do not worry about tomorrow. 

No regrets.  The mistakes I have made and the stuff that has happened in the past are history.  Nothing is gained by focusing on what has happened.

God’s grace is sufficient, so live each day boldly.

We are always people of hope.  “We are Easter People and hallelujah should always be our song.”