Travel Portraits: The Valley

Be Holy Because I Am Holy

Dwelling in my text for this week (1 Peter 1:13-21) I was stopped as we talked about in class. Out of my 20 years of preaching this never occurred to me. It was actually more than a stop, but more like running into a brick wall. I already new the theme for the sermon because I already knew the text. This is often our problem with merely reading the text as we've discussed. Reading is a critical practice for spiritual formation, but if we don't intentionally dwell and listen we may miss the new ways God through his Spirit wants to speak through his living word that is active and cuts through our soul. I thought we could do a communal hearing of the text this week through email and develop a word for the congregation through the sermon together. Ok. You're wondering what was it I heard. I've gone this long so as to weed out any who only read the first few lines. 😀I've never considered this before. The text is about being holy. So naturally I began to think about new ways to communicate what means to be holy since this is such a common idea. But, did you ever notice we are to be holy as GOD is holy? Wait...WHAT? God is holy? How can God be holy? Isn't holy that part of Christianity where we live moral lives, and as the previous verse says, "do not conform to the evil desires you had when you lived in ignorance." If It is impossible for God to sin, how can he be holy? If holy is the opposite of sin and must be chosen, then how can God be holy? Maybe it's just me, but the idea that we should not sin just as God doesn't sin seems odd. Of course God can't sin. So, whether you are puzzled as I am by this, the question is: If holiness and sin are two sides of the same coin, how can I be holy as God is holy when God can't choose to be holy? Is holiness the opposite of sin, or something else?

Grace and peace,

Danny

Five Year Tumorversary

Five Year Tumorversary: This Moment

Five years ago tonight I came home from my martial arts class. I have no memories of the evening. Strangely enough, though, I have a clear, distinct memory of waking up on the couch in the middle of the night. I remember standing up and walking into the bedroom to wake Heidi up. Little did I know, when I drifted off to sleep, that when I awoke just a few short hours later the page of a new chapter in life would be turning. "Chapter" actually doesn't do justice to this new time of being; "era," "eon," "epoch," might better reflect this new time. Though these five years represent a mere 12% of my life, it feels like a lifetime of transformation. There resides under the surface a harsh reality I try to suppress; a reality of profound brokenness. This brokenness permeates from the surface of physical symptoms to the hidden depths of a broken spirit. The surface brokenness is your standard physical symptoms of being a brain tumor patient. The hidden depths are despair, an ache that much pain lie ahead. Yet, today, I realize, “IT'S BEEN FIVE YEARS!" How much life would have been wasted if five years ago I fed that inner ache that much pain lie ahead? What is amazing about the human life, is that at every moment, I mysteriously have the capacity to thrive in any circumstance; even those that five years ago I never thought I could have. 

It is not that I shouldn’t be concerned about my reality. The problem is that as I start compounding the issues day after day into the future, I start trying to figure out how I’m going to manage, and I don’t see how I can, I start worrying, and I leave out any possibility that life will find a way. God will find a way. 

So, what to do? "Live in the moment." All I have is what is right here. Not yesterday, not tomorrow. I know that. I’ve heard that over and over. Don’t dwell on the past. Start new every day....Yada, Yada, Yada. By "moment" I don't mean the trite saying, “Live for the Now, Dude.”No, what I mean is, a deep realization that All I have is this moment, right here.

This the hardest thing to do; to live in this moment I have before me. The past creeps up on me and shocks me with how near it appears. The future is a mystery laid out before me, and so, with anxiety I imagine what it will be. The past and the future keep crashing in on me as if they were this moment. I know they aren't this moment, but how do I embrace what I know? The only answer, and it is a hard answer, is to choose THANKFULNESS for THIS moment. This moment that has an opportunity to love those around me in self-giving ways. Again, this is hard and is something that must be chosen because it won't be natural. This doesn't mean I don't reflect and learn from the past. And, it doesn't mean I ignore the future, but anticipate it, look forward to it, and plan for it. But living THIS moment does mean I don't allow the past or the future to keep me from being thankful for THIS moment.

So, my dear family and friends who have followed this five year journey with us, I say in THIS moment: HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Into…err, Out of the Wilderness Day 41

On Easter morning we affirm: We all carry loss deep within our hearts. Some of those losses seem small while others are life shattering. Some losses are really no losses at all because the life we gain from them far outweighs them all. For, as Paul says, “they achieve for us an eternal glory (2 Cor 4:17).” This is the heart of the resurrection. No loss will be wasted. God brings true and abundant life out of all our various deaths. From the smallest death of disappointment that life didn’t quite turn out the way we would have hoped, to the largest of deaths like divorce, terminal illness, death of a loved one, and finally….our own death.

When God breaths the life of his Spirit through the broken body of Jesus, he promised us that no loss of ours would have the last word. That, death, which has been such a common intruder in life, injecting us with that terminal illness of despair, will be destroyed by love and life. This is why our 40 Days in the Wilderness ends on Day 41.

Day 41 is the day after Easter. God brings life out of death and today we see the fruit of it. It can’t be a pie-in-the-sky, naive illusion to simply help us feel better. It must be experienced. It begins today, and is fulfilled in all its fulness when Christ appears.

God of Resurrection, we hear Jesus say to us: “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?” God, we believe, but help our unbelief. There are so many losses we have buried deep within our hearts. Losses we have not let go of. Search them now. Give me courage to allow your Spirit to go to the empty place where I have not allowed you to go. I release the burden of that loss. I can’t carry its weight any longer. Free me of my slavery to despair, resentment, pride, passion. Whatever sin has locked the door to allowing you to take away my loss, I give up to you and freely receive your abundant life. In the name of the one who carried my sin and death deep into your heart, and rose triumphantly, defeating all sin and death by your love, Amen, Amen, Amen!

Into the Silent Land: Day 27

I’ve been preaching through the Apostles’ Creed. Yesterday was: “I believe in the forgiveness of sins.” I think this affirmation is absolutely essential to journeying in the silent land. We believe in the forgiveness of sin; that big picture idea that God in Christ has defeated sin and death. But, notice, the affirmation says, “I believe in the forgiveness of sins.” To affirm “I believe in forgiveness of sin” is to affirm, “I believe in the forgiveness of sinS.” This takes a larger theological claim and puts flesh and blood on it. While in the silent land, my mind is full of sins I can’t seem to allow God to forgive me of, as well as sins I can’t seem to release others from. Forgiveness of sins, however, frees us to live the life of wholeness and joy God invites us into. 

“God of freedom and grace, I’ve held onto sins because of shame. I’ve kept them from your grace because I doubted your grace could reach that deep. Today, however, I lay them all before you. Take them away. Take away the shame. Free me. And, as I receive your mercy and grace, I also lay before you all those sins I’ve felt from others. Strengthen me with power to forgive and extend the same grace toward others that I embrace from you. In the name of Jesus, the one who carried all sin(s) deep into your love. AMEN!

Into the Wilderness: Day 16

MRI in FOUR DAYS. I’m not real sure how to describe my MRIs as they relate to the wilderness journey. On one hand, they are like the dark cave one must enter on the wilderness path, not knowing what will be inside waiting. You can’t go over, under, or around. You must go through. You anticipate passing through, coming out into the light on the other side, checking yourself to make sure everything is still in place; all fingers accounted for, no creepy, crawly, critters hitching a ride, no vampire bat bites. In the circles I run in, we call it “scanxiety.” Yet, I find a strangely, disturbing delight on MRI days. There is something peaceful about lying there for 45 minutes; just me, my thoughts, God, and obnoxiously loud pings, bangs, whoops, and whamps. I suppose it’s knowing that this scan will get me one more quarter of a year until the next one. But, I think it’s more than that. I think there is something deep within us that longs for the truth of our lives. We want to know and be known. I deeply want to know what my brain looks like, and share that knowledge with others. Of course, in this case, I’m speaking of those pesky oligodendroglioma cells. But, on a broader level, I think we all want to make it out of the wilderness. We are content passing through the wilderness, as long as we come out of it whole, and are able to tell others of our journey we made.

Into the Wilderness: Day 15

Last night I had the amazing opportunity to speak at my brain tumor support group. I spoke about the essentiality of walking this wilderness road with others and being willing to open ourselves up in vulnerability and give and receive hospitality. To share life with another requires me to give up a piece of myself; some protection and security I wrap around my heart. When walking the wilderness road we may need to help others walking with us know that we’re okay being vulnerable. That this isn’t weakness, but even if it is, we’re okay with weakness. That we don’t need anyone to fix it, or make us stronger, just walk with us. The surprise and the mystery, however, is that when we add our lives together we get more than the sum total each other. Something new is created: 1+1=3.

"Jesus emptied himself...therefore, God exalted him." Philippians 2:5-11

God, the story I hear every day is that success is when I become truly self-reliant. Yet, I confess,  I need you, and I need others. May I open my heart, expose my vulnerability, and allow new life in. In the name of Jesus, who surrendered himself that new life may be possible for all. Amen  

Into the Wilderness: Day 14

"If anyone, then, knows the good they ought to do and doesn’t do it, it is sin for them." James 4:17

I had big plans for today. When I started this Lenten journey of reflecting on the wilderness for 40 days before Easter, I included as part of it my plans to run the “Run for the Rose” 5K the Sunday after Easter. This is a brain tumor research run. For 4.5 years I’ve been sitting on my butt feeling sorry for myself because the glory days of my athletic prowess are behind me. My goal for today was to break 9 min for a mile. The Wilderness couldn't care less about our plans, so it’s a 100% of rain all day. I also planned to be on day 17, so, I'm 3 posts behind, but sickness, busyness, blah, blah, blah… All excuses. Only one thing has kept me from keeping up. ME!

There is something so freeing about owning our own lives. Certainly when I look at myself, and as I reflect on all the people I have spiritually directed the past 20 years, what has kept us all from moving forward is an unwillingness to own our lives. Own our mistakes. Own the ways we deeply reject God’s way. It’s not complicated. It’s not easy, nothing worthwile is, but it isn’t complicated. DO THE RIGHT THING! And do the right thing TODAY. I may actually run my mile today in the rain. Check back later to see how it turned out.