Author: danefowlkes

Scripture Reading: Psalm 31

“It’s hard to believe that Jesus is the Solid Rock when the world you’ve lived your whole life in has cracked beneath you into a thousand pieces. You can’t tell if everything is still half-broken or if it’s half-repaired, and hope is a scary concept when life has been full of false starts and crushing disappointments.”

~Addie Zierman

The setting was typical and familiar–a small church on a quiet street in an urban neighborhood, family members assembled along with friends of the deceased as well as the decedent’s family, and a sampling of ministers that know by heart the ins and outs of just such moments in time. Most gathered to remember a long life well lived. I joined them in order to honor a friend who was also the son of the woman that had passed. Somewhere in the mix of singing and testifying and Scripture reading came the prayer for comfort by one of the clergy present, evidently chosen for the task because he had known the woman for many years. He spoke as much to the family as he did to God, but said a curious thing in the portion of his prayer addressed to the Father: “If you drop something and break it you meant to break it, because you can surely drop it without breaking it.”

We are all broken in one way or another; the key decision of life surrounds who we allow to put us back together and according to what pattern. It is good to think about our brokenness, not just in broad strokes that we are accustomed to doing on the rare occasion when something rattles us about ourselves, but in great detail like an archeologist dusting off and tagging ancient artifacts rescued from a dig. Like detecting dirt hiding in folds of skin that are prominent but no longer useful, we approach our task of remembering so that we may relinquish all our broken pieces, not in effort to become a different person but the individual we were created to be. Fermentation is a process of turmoil; chaos appears to rule in-between crushing and leavening, but the outcome when guided by a master vintner can be beautiful. This is especially difficult for me because I abhor chaos, preferring sameness, routine, predictability. I apologize frequently to my wife for being boring. She smiles, assures me I’m not, and I go on being dull–Jan Karon’s Father Tim in real life. The joy of living is in acknowledging in grand detail the cracks in our pots, and allowing the Potter to recast us into what he had in mind to begin with.

Scripture Reading: St. Luke 9:18-27

Scripture Reading: Luke 14

“There is little we can point to in our lives as deserving anything but God’s wrath. Our best moments have been mostly grotesque parodies. Our best loves have been almost always blurred with selfishness and deceit. But there is something to which we can point. Not anything that we ever did or were, but something that was done for us by another. Not our own lives, but the life of one who died in our behalf and yet is still alive. This is our only glory and our only hope. And the sound that it makes is the sound of excitement and gladness and laughter that floats through the night air from a great banquet.”

~Frederick Buechner                      (The Magnificent Defeat)

Scripture Reading: Matthew 27:24-61

More than wicker baskets and colorful eggs, Easter from my childhood reminds of a song. I can’t tell you why, but my earliest memories of this season center around the singing of “Were You There When They Crucified My Lord?” An African American spiritual that probably predates the Civil War, “Were You There” was likely composed by slaves in the 19th Century and first published in William Barton’s Old Plantation Hymns in 1899. I can still remember goosebumps popping out all over as my young heart seriously considered my own response to the lyrical question. The cross should always elicit a response. Either I turn away repulsed in unbelief, or I tremble and cling to it for dear life. Crosses are never neutral.

“The symbol of the cross in the church points to the God who was crucified not between two candles on an altar, but between two thieves in the place of the skull, where the outcasts belong, outside the gates of the city. It does not invite thought, but a change of mind. It is a symbol which therefore leads out of the church and out of religious longing into the fellowship of the oppressed and abandoned. On the other hand, it is a symbol which calls the oppressed and godless into the church and through the church into the fellowship of the crucified God.”

~Jürgen Moltmann (The Crucified God)

We can learn a lot about God in this life if we know where to look. Hopefully we encounter him when we gather in houses of worship, but we stumble upon him most naturally and frequently during the ordinary courses of our lives. These days I’m learning volumes from our daughter’s experience with foster children. Sally, has been with them a third of her tender two-plus years of life, and to her, Heath is Daddy and Mandy is Mommy. We are Papa and JoJo, just like we are to all our grandchildren. 

The family attended a Police Department party recently, and it just so happens that Sally is a party animal. A number of months before she arrived barefoot and dirty, but on this night she wore a party dress, sporting a bow in her ringlets and glittery shoes on clean feet. She wouldn’t leave the dance floor. Friends cut a rug with her, but Sally mostly wanted Heath, calling him Daddy, having the time of her young life–twirling her way even deeper into all of our hearts. That is the way of our Everlasting Father: He takes us as we are, cleans us up and gives us his best, encourages us to call him Daddy even though we shouldn’t, and dances with us forever. Heaven is having the time of our lives in our Daddy’s arms. 

Skeptics make great disciples because they refuse to take anyone else’s word on anything. They insist on investigating and thinking through things for themselves. Doubt is entirely compatible with belief since Christ never called for “blind faith.” Quite the opposite–he told parables of the necessity of counting the cost in following him. Know what you’re getting into seemed to be his mantra. Once you do, you’re ready and willing to give yourself unreservedly to him. 

Scripture Reading:

Matthew 5:17-26

Meditation:

Easter is all about one thing–worship.  It is the crescendo on the calendar, the ending and beginning of everything for believers. We worship a Risen Lord; the Cross and empty tomb change everything. Lent is an important part of the Easter event because it prepares our hearts to participate in the celebration. The paschal rhythm of Lent steels our heart to burst forth in jubilant praise. If Easter is worship, my heart needs help to qualify for the celebration. I fast so that I may better focus on my relationship with him.  I come to grips with who I am and all that I’m not but should be. I surrender to Christ and take my place on my own cross so that I may be his disciple.

But something else remains that is eminently practical. Jesus refers to it in the Sermon on the Mount, where he tells us that worship is impossible when we are at odds with someone else, particularly if that person is a fellow believer. We may show up consistently for church and produce an impressive religious resume. We can go through all the motions and perform all the right rituals, but our efforts are futile if we are not reconciled to our fellow believers. 

Jesus describes what it is like to live in the kingdom of God. Kingdom citizens care about others so much that they are more concerned for them than their own preferences. When people live in the kingdom of God they progressively become filled with warmth and tenderness and love for other people, such that if there is a relationship that can be reconciled they’ll run out of church to make it right–not because they are righteous, but to become more like Christ. Easter is a beautiful celebration, but there’s work to be done in order to fully participate.

I’m beginning to think it’s harder to live like Jesus at church than anywhere else. Christians appear to work less at getting along than those who claim no connection to the church or Jesus; I’ll never cease to be amazed at the way we treat one another in the name of Christ. Is it any wonder that the masses are either turning away or staying away from Church? Who can blame anyone for choosing not to be the brunt of someone else’s critical spirit, even if that less than exemplary spirit is displayed “in Jesus’ name.” I learned just last week of one man who loved the Lord but left church because the stress he experienced being among other church members was too much to bear.

Scripture Reading: