Through Stained Glass: A Mid-Week Reflection-speak

speak

Sometimes a picture speaks a thousand words.

Pablo Picasso said this about pictures, “Every now and then one paints a picture that seems to have opened a door and serves as a stepping stone to other things.” 

The same can be said about photographs.

Like this one: 

So much is communicated in this photo.

What do you see?

What do you feel?

This image has become the image of the church for me. This is what we are to be about. This is how we are to live and be in the world. This is our mission.

While there are some of us complaining about making cakes and others about what is or isn’t love, this is happening.

A visible display of God’s love, Christ’s trust, and the Spirit’s presence captured in a simple moment between 2 people.

Beautiful.

And I want you to know this:

You

                  Yes you.

                                             Stop what you’re doing for a moment.

Listen.

                  Be still.

                                             You are loved like this.

Welcome.

                  Home.

                                             Child of God, you are enough.

Christ waits for you with arms open and with a tenderness to calm your fears.

You belong.

You are loved.

You are wanted.

You are not alone.

God loves you, exactly as you are.

Look again at the photo.

If you are hurting, let us hold you.

If you are not feeling well, let us heal you.

If you are down, lets us help you up.

If you are lost, let us walk you home.

You are not alone.

You

         Are

                  Loved.

Through Stained Glass: A Mid-Week Reflection-Stained Glass

Stained Glass

I’ve heard it said once that each of us is like a stained glass window—beautiful, colorful, and translucent. All of us are beautiful exactly as we are but we are made even more beautiful by the light of God that shines through us revealing an inner translucent that is breathtaking.

Part of the splendor of stained glass is that it is exactly that – the colors are not painted on but are deliberately created in the manufacture of the glass by the addition of metallic salts. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within.

You believe this, right? You know that you are wonderfully and beautifully made, inside and out? And you also know that God created you in the image of God?

Take a few moments and sit with this truth.

Read Psalm 139: 13-18. Look at yourself in a mirror. Look at the beauty God has created in the uniqueness of your features:  the amazing complexity of each part of your body that was formed in your mother’s womb.

Read Psalm 139: 13-18 a second time. Visualize the “colors” that God has created in who you are that give you a unique luminescence when light shines through. Thank God for the beauty of who you are created to be.

Now, before the nasty freezing rain and sleet get here, go outside and take a walk in the sun. Where do you see the glory of God shining through with that inner luminescence? Take some photos of your favorite “translucent” scenes. Write about them in your journal. Thank God for the glory that shines through all creation.

Even in creation light shines through the pollution and the de-afforestation. It isn’t just the pristine landscapes where God’s light shines, but also in that stunning sunset which is full of oranges and reds, purples and lavenders, yellow and gold.

Now, look in the mirror again. Take a good look. Perhaps you notice the crow’s feet or the bags around your eyes. Maybe you see the broken areas within, the parts no one can see. Often it is our wounded areas that glow most brightly with the inner translucence of God. What are the wounded places in your life that glow with God’s presence? Write them down and thank God for divine light that shines in and through you.

Now listen to the song below and read through these lyrics of the refrain. What else is God saying to you today? How might you respond?

Let your light shine.
Let your love show
It’s a short ride
Down the long road.
When the rains come
And the winds blow
Let your light shine
Wherever you go.

Through Stained Glass: A Mid-Week Reflection-Second

Second

“Every second, two people die…What if this is your second?”

…

..

.

That thought you just had. You know, the “Wait, did he really just say that?” one?

It might have even made you feel a bit uncomfortable.

Those are the exact feelings I had when I read that line Monday night. These words are from a religious tract that was placed on the windshield of my truck. In under 400 words this tract asks the reader 24 different “What if?” questions.

They ranged from “What if you won a million dollars?” to “What if hating without cause was considered murder?”

If I’m honest, for some reason I have not been able to let go of this tract. In fact, I’ve kept it in my pocket and have found myself on a couple different occasions staring at it. Perhaps, subconsciously, I am trying to make sense of these ‘what if?’ questions.

Maybe it was because all the “what if?” questions that were asked were all self-centered.

What if the world needs more of what is on the right than on the left?

Maybe it was because all the “what if?” questions made God out to be an angry parent who is quick to hate and slow to love.

Maybe it was because all the “what if?” questions made humanity, specifically the person reading the card, out to be anything but good.

All this “what if-ing?” has lead me to ask some of my own “what if?” questions.

Like, what if we started with questions that weren’t so negative or made us out to be helpless puppets of an angry God?

What if God really is love?

What if faith isn’t about a rugged individualistic relationship with Jesus but a life lived in community?

What if we begin God’s story in Genesis 1 and not Genesis 3?

What if we talked less about Jesus and more about what Jesus talked about?

What if we quit focusing on the afterlife and started living it right now?

What if we helped the person who is currently living in hell—someone who lost a child to suicide; someone who has had a miscarriage; someone who has just lost their job; someone who is in an abusive relationship—what if we helped these people now rather than inquiring about where they’ll be after it is all said and done?

What if we actually believed Jesus when he told us to “be perfect as I am perfect”? Or is that taking things too literally?

What if heaven is real and every time we protect the image of God in someone, or care for God’s creation and not worry about them pearly gates up yonder, it is made manifest right in front of us?

What if we didn’t hate at all?

What if we actually loved our neighbors—especially those who we disagree with or who may not believe as we do?

What if violence isn’t the answer?

What if instead of seeing labels like “handicapped,” or “reject,” or “liberal,” or “transgendered,” or “conservative,” or “gay,” or “straight,” or “Baptist,” or “Christian,” or “other,” or “Cubs fan,” we see each other as God see us:  beloved human beings?

What if instead of worrying about what happens when we die we choose to live

here

and

now?

What if we quit playing the “what if” game and use our life, our time, our energy making a prayer shawl for someone in the hospital, or buy the coffee for the person behind you, or we planted seeds at a community garden, or we bought Gatorade for those teenagers who “are always up to no good”?

What if we believed Paul when he said that in Christ there is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female? Too literal again?

What if we told our children they possess an inherent goodness, and that life is about discovering this goodness, and that we call this journey towards discovering the divine spark we all possess…salvation?

What if,

in all of this,

what if

we

                                    are

all

wrong?

What if LOVE is all we need?

After all, if God is who we say God is, then Love is not only the answer, but it is our identity—for we are created in the image of Love.

Last thing, what if we approached life with this thought from Thomas Merton:

“It seems to me the most absurd thing in the world is to be upset because I am weak and distracted and blind and constantly make mistakes! What else do I expect? Does God love me any less because I can’t make myself a saint by my own power and in my own way? God loves me more because I am so clumsy and helpless without God and underneath what I am God sees me as I will one day be by God’s pure gift and that pleases God. Therefore, it pleases me and I attend to God’s great love which is my joy.”

Every second somebody is wondering, “what if I am not loved?”

What if this is your second to tell them they, in fact, are?

Through Stained Glass: A Mid-Week Reflection--Sidewalks

Sidewalks

The first one came just a little after 5pm. It was one of those Frozen characters, a tiny Elsa or Anna. I get them confused.

She was barely old enough to walk. This Elsa’s cheeks were round and red from the chilly October air. Mom held her hand while dad stood on the sidewalk grinning and taking pictures with his cell phone. It was obvious by the parents’ enthusiasm and the blank stare on Elsa’s face that this was her first time trick or treating.

While I’m almost certain she didn’t have the necessary chomping strength to chew up the starburst and tootsie rolls I placed in her bag, it didn’t stop me from giving her a handful of them. She was cute. Her parents were excited. The joy of a new tradition had started for this young family.

“Oh wow, look how pretty you are!” I said to the young princess. “Who are you dressed up as?” I proceeded to ask this tiny tot.

With a glazed look in her eyes and dried snot under her nose, she responded by simply raising her bag. No rhyming words or clever catch phrases. Just an innocent gesture that indicated her knowledge of this classic cultural custom we call Halloween.

She would be the first of many.

All sorts of unusual but also predictable characters came to my door. Vampires and witches; more Elsa’s and Anna’s, as well as Jasmine and Cinderella; zombies and sport stars; something that appeared to be Bigfoot, and Sherlock Holmes. Some of the costumes were quite clever. Others were less thoughtful. But all were endearing.

I enjoy Halloween. For some it may be a difficult day depending on our religious or cultural perspectives. Some of us might have a sour taste because of those 16 year olds who come to the door and want the same candy little Elsa wanted on what was her first Halloween outing. Many might find it hard to justify spending money on candy, the very items dentist and health teachers preach against eating. Dog owners may despise the night knowing that every time the doorbell rings, our faithful four legged friends will spaz out, barking and putting on their best Cujo impersonation.

But my appreciation for the traditions of Halloween runs deep.

For one night a year we give our communities permission to get outside and visit their neighbors. Families are with their kids, who we complain spend too much time inside. Here, they are reclaiming the ancient practice of walking.

For one night a year we get to gift strangers and neighbors, ghosts and little goblins, treats for their tricks.

For one night a year we get to imitate the grace of God to the children in our communities. We don’t know you. We don’t know how hard you worked, or didn’t work, on your costume. You didn’t have to come to our house or this neighborhood. But you did. And we are glad you did, because grace means something like: Here is your life. You might never have been, but you are because the party wouldn't have been complete without you.

For one night a year our children get to dress up as their heroes and imitate their dreams!

For one night a year the city streets are a buzz with different people of different generations from different parts of town!

While I celebrate the way Halloween pulls a community together, I also lament the very practice that draws us out into these streets, because I long for the day when we don’t have to dress up as something else to visit our neighbors. I long for the day when the wisest in the community and the youngest are brought together without the needed premise of trick or treating. I long for the day when we no longer have to wear masks in order to go door to door to gain but a glimpse of the lives of those we call neighbors.

Every year I find myself gushing with joy as I hand outlandish amounts of candy to all people who come to my door. No matter how old or how young; no matter how detailed their costumes are, because at the end of the day, when the candy bowl is bare, I hope that the community’s hospitality, the kindness that comes from handing out 2 Kit-Kat bars instead of 1, the brief interaction with strangers on our porch steps, and the vulnerability of a child to trust their tricks will result in a treat.

My greatest hope is that these gestures brought on by a holy day of story telling and community making will lead to a season of authentic relationships. Halloween reminds us that we may be our true selves or false selves. God leaves us free to be whatever we like.

But we cannot make these choices with impunity.

If we have chosen the way of falsity we must not be surprised that truth eludes us when we finally come to need it and that confusion reigns.

I can either be Olaf.

Or I can be Adam.