If I've Seemed a Bit Weepy Lately...

Courage

The doctors left the port in her chest, so that she wouldn't need a new IV every time she got a chemo treatment. Some days, her left arm is so weak, she can hardly bend her elbow. Last week,they told her that the disease was not responding, and is much worse than they thought. She needs radical surgery, but they can't do it until she is stronger. She works out as if her life depends on it. Which, in a way, it does. I was spotting her in the weight room this week. Shoulder press with dumbbells. Hard for anybody. Nearly impossible for her. Our faces were inches apart when I saw the tear roll down her left cheek, same side as the tumor. "It hurts." "What hurts?" I asked quickly. You don't take pain lightly in my business. "Everything." I was about to stop her, then my glace fell to her jaw. It was set steel cable tight. "Two more reps," she growled, her lips barely moving. She ground two more presses out like an NFL linebacker, then dropped the weights to the floor, leaned into my chest, and soaked my shirt with tears of courage.

Thanksgiving

He was my best friend for a long time. A class mate. An ordained minister. A Christian education director. A flamboyant, joyful man, trapped behind the barely latched closet door that his church forced him to hide in. He was the one who reassured me that in spite of my curiosity, artistic temperament, and unsettling dreams, I was most definitely not a homosexual. One night, just after Thanksgiving break, he passed a joint and rubbed his eyes dry with the heel of his hand as he told me about coming out to his fireplug of an ex-Marine father. He trembled in fear as the old man smoked quietly for a long time, finally breaking the silence when he asked, "Ok. So, what is it that you do, exactly?" They talked long past midnight, gradually unpacking fears, truths, and a couple of stories about life in Greenwich Village in the 70's that still make me cringe. My friend was prepared to be disowned. Instead, he found a father's confused, but unconditional love. By the time he finished telling me about it, we were both crying tears of gratitude, cross-legged on the floor of his dorm room.

Bear Hug

The week before your first Marathon is not the time to discover a lump in the shower. No time for this shit right now. That Sunday, he broke four hours, and hoped the nub would go away. Three months later, he joined the 1%: only 2200 men are diagnosed with breast cancer each year. "Lucky me."  In spite of his initial denial, the docs said that they caught it early. Minor surgery seemed successful, but left enough doubt room for error that several rounds of chemo followed. Hair loss. Sunken eyes. Disappearing muscles. See-saw emotions. Weight gain. "Less than a year ago, I finished a marathon. Now I have to stop and rest when I walk to the john. I have to run again You have to help me run again." "I'm only a trainer," I told him the day we met. "I can't take a step for you. But as long as you're willing to run, I'll run beside you." For months, he was always early to class. inundating me with questions about nutrition, and exercise. He banged out reps in the weight room. Rocked the rowing machine. Made the stationary bikes hum. Soaked the treadmill belt with sweat before the rest of us were even warmed up. He was dragging through the front doors as I was clocking out after teaching an aerobics class this morning. "What's with you?" I ribbed. "You look like you've been pulling a plow." He glanced around the lobby with a weary sparkle, as if to be certain we were alone. "Last night. 3 miles in 32." Runners and cancer survivors: we have a shorthand all our own. We wrapped our arms around one another in the sunlit lobby: a big, back-slapping bear-hug that quickly became the kind of long embrace a proud father gives his son just before it's time to leave for college. "You son-of-a-bitch," I whispered. "Guess you'll have to run by yourself. I can't keep up with you now." He punched me in the arm, laughing. I was careful not to raise my head until I could duck into the men's room. I soaked a brown paper towel with salty pride.

The Bells of Nathaniel

Philip found Nathanael and said to him, ‘We have found him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth.’ Nathanael said to him, ‘Can anything good come out of Nazareth?’ Philip said to him, ‘Come and see.’ When Jesus saw Nathanael coming towards him, he said of him, ‘Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit!’~ John 1:43-47 NRSV

In this passage from this morning's prayers, two things ring in my ear like bells.

The first is that, at a Nazarene, Jesus grew up in a backwater that was the butt of jokes and derission among the more sophisticated people in Israel. Jesus was a hillbilly: poor white trash. He came from a place where the news was always bad. I am reminded of national news items about my home state. When we see a story about Kentucky on CNN or Huffington, our first reaction is, "Oh, no. What now?" It's usually about how ours is among the hardest places to live, with the most depressed people, the most numerous smokers, the worst poverty, the highest rates of cancer or drug abuse or most recently, the flu. We expect the news that makes it out of Kentucky to be bad.

At the same time, people who live in the cities of central and western Kentucky often look to the eastern mountains as the home of ignorance, meth labs, moonshine cookers, and snake handlers. Even among ourselves, we have a system of class and caste.

As it is in the Bluegrass, so it was with Israel As far as Rome was concerned, Palestine was a strategically important cultural wasteland. Though their homeland was critical to the Emperor's control of the eastern Mediterranean,  the Hebrews looked like savage primitives to the sophisticates in Rome. That cultural contempt echoed in Nathaniel's joke about Nazareth. Nothing good could ever come from the holler dwelling trailer trash in that miserable place.

Where else would you expect to find the Savior of the World?

And that's what strikes me as so important: Jesus was a cultural surprise. He was not a graduate of Harvard Divinity school, or even Oral Roberts University. He was a nobody from nowhere. A preacher who showed up from West Virginia or Mississippi or the lettuce farms of California or the ghettos of Detroit. We might expect such a man to offer homespun wisdom and folksy, simplistic philosophy, but never the most radical and influential theology in history. Jesus was a man without influence, from the most miserable town in the most miserable part of the Roman world. Jesus is not who we expect him to be. He is not to be found among the usual suspects. Jesus will take us by surprise, and challenge all of our prejudices and assumptions.

The second bell rings when Jesus greets the man from Bethsaida. We might expect a stern rebuke, or even good natured ribbing from the penniless preacher, but instead, he greets him with praise. Before Nathaniel even speaks to him, Jesus sees his character and his integrity. "Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit!" Jesus does not return contempt for contempt. Nathaniel may look down on the Carpenter's Son, but at least he is honest about it. He does not smile with his mouth and sneer with his heart. And in that candor and honesty, Jesus recognizes a man who can serve God even if he is very different from the people among whom Jesus was raised. Jesus compassion transcends both bigotry and cultural differences, and in that moment, the two men form a bond that lasts a lifetime.

The story of Nathaniel calls us to look beyond our expectations and our differences. In this morning's collect from the New Zealand Book of Common Prayer, we hear, Make us willing to listen and humble in what we believe is right. (p 563)

Jesus was willing to listen, and humble in his beliefs: he did not see a snob from the port city of Bethsaida, but rather a man who was without trickery or guile. Jesus took the time to see and hear a stranger, and he found a friend. God grant that we might have the courage to really look and see the people we encounter, and the compassion to recognize the divinity in them, in spite of our own assumptions and expectations.

Peace, y'all.
Bob

Fear not.

And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. ~ Luke 2:9,10

Fear not.

Life is terrifying sometimes.

Fear not.

You will find yourself at the mercy of things,

Beyond your control.

Fear not.

People will hurt you,

Often on purpose,

Usually not,

Fear not.

Things will flow past in the river of your life. 

Storms will rain down,

Broken branches will block your way,

Currents will change and hide the channel,

Troubles will wound your lonely little craft,

Fear not.

Though the world  laughs and judges,

Offers you shame, not acceptance,

Though the ones you love doubt you,

And the mystery of things seems to bury you

Let it be,

Fear not.

You are not alone,

You have love in you,

Life that leaps inside you,

At the sound of your name.

Like a weary companion trudges along beside,

With no knowledge or understanding, to guide the way,

You have love around you,

Peace, for which there are no words,

Truth for which there is no proof,

Fear not.

There is a place for you,

Shelter from the cold and the dark,

Not what you might have chosen,

Not what you expected or hoped for,

But a place where you belong,

A place only you can fill,

A task only you can do,

Fear not.

There is a story to tell,

Your story,

A story many will hear, 

And many will not understand.

It is as simple as a box of straw,

And glorious as a choir of angels,

No one else can tell it for you,

Much as they may try,

They will need your voice,

Your heart,

Your song,

The ones who hear,

Will not be the ones you expect,

They need to hear you sing,

Even if you sing off key,

Fear not.

An pregnant girl,

A confused fiancee,

A harried innkeeper,

Shepherds, terrified,

Magi, laden with useless tribute,

A puppet king filled with jealous hatred,

And there among them,

A baby,

The innocent creator of the universe,

God in the straw,

Unafraid.

That's what Christmas is all about, Linus.

It isn't about trees and paper and bags,

It isn't about angels and virgins and shepherds,

Not hymns,

Not bells,

Not turkey,

Not pies,

Not doctrine or dogma or history or theology.

The meaning of Christmas,

The true meaning of Christmas is in you, Linus,

It's the love that wraps around you like a blanket,

It's the courage that keeps you going,

The compassion that lets you care,

Christmas is the joy you feel for the blessings you have

And the strength to overcome the blessings you lack,

The meaning of Christmas,

The true meaning of Christmas,

In the face of all logic,

In spite of good sense,

No matter what yesterday's failures have taught you,

Or whatever tomorrow's dangers might be,

Christmas

Is reckless

Fearless

Love.

And if you can't believe in that, Linus,

You can't believe in anything.

Fear not.

Happy, Holy Day.

Merry Christmas.

Love,

Pennsy

#473: The Man I Want To Be

"You're always talking about what you want to be for someone else, but what kind of man do YOU want to be?"

Damned head-shrinker. Always asking the hard questions.

I have a pretty good idea what kind of man God wants me to be. I know what's expected of me at work. I'm far too aware of the things I should have done to be a better husband... but what kind of man do I want to be? What kind of self would let me say, "I'm understand that you feel that way about me, but I'm confident in the person I am"?

First, I would be courageous, like the wolf. My life's compass would be Love, not Fear. I would be proud to join the pack, and lead when needed, but I would also run alone when my heart told me it was the right thing to do. When faced with danger of loss or defeat, I would use my senses and my experience to choose the best course of action and take on the challenge as an opportunity to grow in wisdom and courage. When other, weaker wolves were placed in my care, I would teach them, challenge them, protect them, and defend them with my life.

I would be strong, like the lion. I would work to keep my muscles and mind ready to do the things that need to be done. I would eat what I needed to grow strong and powerful; rest to allow myself the chance to restore and recover from the day's tasks; and exercise to teach my body how to overcome today's obstacles and to prepare for tomorrow's challenges. When my heart said "Go!" I would have the capacity to go, even through great fatigue or even pain. I would have no need for other's weakness, because I would know the confidence of  my own strength.

I would be compassionate, like the gorilla. I would see the world through eyes that may not always understand, but always accept. I would use my courage and strength with tenderness toward the world, taking only what I needed, doing no harm, bringing gentleness and patience to the task of nurturing myself and my community. Though I would be a fierce adversary, my ferocity would be tempered with kindness, and my heart, powerful enough for any battle, would be soft enough to feel the pains and joys of every creature I encounter.

Finally, I would be joyful, like the bear. I would know the beauty of play and treasure the value of laughter. I would wrap my arms around creation and roar with happiness at the blessings of this life. To others, I might appear clumsy, oafish, clownish, or even dangerous, but in my own heart, I would know the happiness of a bear who knows where the softest moss is, where to find the best fishing, and how to roll back and laugh as the water tickles my belly and the sun dries my fur on an autumn afternoon.

"Do you see," asked the head-shrinker, smiling, "that you are all these things already? You have courage and strength and compassion and joy, and you exercise them every day! This man you wish you were... he exists right now. He is not perfect, and he does not always live up to his own ideals, but he is alive and growing and he is YOU... he is NOW... not some future possibility."

It is so easy to notice and remember our vices. Ask me to list the cowardly, weak, selfish, miserable things I have done in the past year, and I will fill pages with sins and omissions. Opportunities missed. Responsibilities shirked. Mornings when the sunlight was just too much to bear and I pulled the covers back over my head. Nights when it was easier to turn up the music and eat ice cream than to listen to the voices arguing in my own soul. I know the things I've done wrong I know them by heart.

And that's why I've started recording Three Right Things. Every day, before I go to sleep, I try to remind myself of three things that I have done that reflect the man I want to be. It might be something as simple as getting out of bed when I was filled with anxiety. It might be an hour spent on the road or in the weight room. It could be a long phone call with my Mum. Or it could just be sitting and laughing with a child at the Y who finds some kind of delight in the company of a big, round, hairy bear of a man with a loud voice and eyes that seem to see you when they look at you.

As I remember the things I do right, I am reminded of the man I am. I am reminded of the man God created me to be. And I remember that God is sending people and experiences to me so that I can learn how to better be the man I want to be.

Three Right Things. It doesn't seem like much. Not when you compare it to the mountain of things I do wrong every day. Maybe it isn't a very ambitious goal. But it is mine. I will work to imitate the wolf, the lion, the gorilla, and the bear. I will try to do three things every day that make the world better than it was. I will continue to nurture the best in the man I already am.

I will battle with strength and courage. I will love with compassion. And whether times are good or bad, I will not miss an opportunity to lay back in the sun, wave my big paws in the air, and laugh.

That's a self I can live with. Even if it is only three times a day.

Peace,
Bob

The Voyage of the Pennsy: Morning Prayers

As the crew gathered for morning prayers today, we were reminded of who our true Captain is. We have shared many adventures together, and survived many storms that would have ruined ships with stouter timbers and richer cargo. We endure because we are blessed. We sail with confidence because our God has proven to be faithful. The most experienced pilot can never know what lies beyond the horizon, but we hold our course with courage, knowing that our Heavenly Master holds us, even in the gravest danger. Looking back, we can se how our greatest trials gave us wisdom and confidence to face even greater ones. We have known great fear, but even greater joy. Our most bitter losses have always been our teachers, preparing us for unforeseen blessings. We have suffered, yes. But we have never suffered alone. Our current trials are dire, ant the seas toward which we sail hold dangers and obstacles we can only imagine. There is much work to do, and precious little room for error. I would be a liar if I said that I feel no fear. But in my heart, I also know the strength that comes from love. It fills the Pennsy's sails as. Surely as the gentle breeze in the golden sunrise. Everything we have done... Every storm... Every battle... Every loss and every blessing has prepared us for the weeks to come. 

We seek to love and serve ourselves, our neighbors, and our faithful God, wherever the journey may lead us. And God has blessed us with loving friends and hopeful, grateful hearts. 

The good ship Pennsy sails on... But she never sails alone.

Birthday Serenity

God, give me grace to accept with serenity

the things that cannot be changed,

Grace... it's the gift that you don't have to earn. It's the thing you can never get on your own. Grace is the blessing that cannot be bought or sold, only freely given and received.
Serenity... the gift of peace with yourself. Calling a truce with your own flaws and faults. I acknowledge all that I am today, and embrace the person God created me to be... the person I choose to be.
So much of life is beyond my grasp and control. Circumstances. Situations. The choices other people make or don't make. In spite of all my best efforts, my health can still fail me. Neurons misfire. Chemicals flood or dry up. Rogue cells can grow into tumors, no matter how many green vegetables I eat.
I cannot change natural law... natural consequences. To embrace that, I must release my hold on this. Pick up one end of the stick, and you  must pick up the other. I can choose how much of myself I share with you, but I cannot change the way you react to what you see.

Courage to change the things

which should be changed,

Courage is the triumph of love over fear. It is the act of will that says, " I will try to do what I know is right, no matter the cost or consequence." Courage is not satisfied with half-measures and good intentions. It is action. It is force. Courage sees the potential for good in the world, and refuses to accept past failure as destiny.

and the Wisdom to distinguish

the one from the other.

The fool shakes his fist at the clouds,
While the sage is building a shelter for the village...

Living one day at a time,

Enjoying one moment at a time,

Ashamed of yesterday,
Afraid of tomorrow,
I will be left paralyzed...
blind to the magnificent possibilities of today.
I cannot redeem what has been lost, or control what is to come,
I can only accept the grace of Now,
The gift of God that is this moment
My moment
To fill with love or fear
With life, or living death.

Accepting hardship as a pathway to peace,

And when the obstacles come, as they must
May I see them for what they are...
Life passing by
Water flowing along the sides of the ship of my life,
Events and circumstances.
Time and space,
The river of life whose channel I navigate
As each eddy and current presses me this way or that
As branches and garbage float in my path
Sand bars
Floods
Wind and ice
Each showing me more about the river and my own little part in it.
They are my teachers
Guiding me toward safe harbor

Taking, as Jesus did,

This sinful world as it is,

Not as I would have it,

"Thy will be done," he prayed. Not because he accepted the injustice and cruelty of this world, but because he knew that only open eyes can see what is and what is not. How many times have I looked at the world through the filter of my own desire?, my own interpretations? How often have I seen what I wanted to see, choosing to ignore whatever did not fit into the framework of my own imagination? To see the world as Jesus did is to look through God's eyes, not our own. It is to accept each creature as a being with integrity and flaws. It is to respect... to look again and again... always searching the heart, not the surface... always seeking the truth of what is, never settling for the smoky reality of what I believe might be.
And finally, seeing through God's eyes means honoring the choices that other people make. God has the power to bend any creature to his will, but chooses to allow us the freedom to act according to our own conscience instead. God grants us that dignity... we are free to be who we are. If I am to embrace the world as God does, I can do no less.

Trusting that You will make all things right,

If I surrender to Your will,

And it is that surrender, that submitting to things as they are that is the hardest part, isn't it? To accept that all things are as they should be feels weak somehow. Complacent. The sick are sick because that is God's will? The poor? The suffering? Is there nothing to be done?
There is a lot to be done. But change requires two things: serenity and courage. It requires the serenity to accept the truth of things as they are, and the courage to seek and obey God's guidance as you work to make the wrong things right.
So I surrender to God's will, I accept the things I cannot change, but I never surrender to the fear and death that keep me from serving my Creator and the creation of which I am a steward.

So that I may be reasonably happy in this life,

And supremely happy with You forever in the next.

And what is it to be happy? It is to live at peace with yourself, with creation, with your Creator. To be happy is to live in love with the world, and see it through the courageous eyes of one who is not afraid of the truth. To be happy in this word, or any world, is to embrace a spirit of gratitude for the lessons of the past, for the possibilities of the future, and for opportunity of the present.
I'm 53 years old today. And I am blessed. I have people who love me. I have a life that has come close to ending more times than I can count. I have lost most of my worldly wealth, but in that loss, I have become as rich as anyone. I continue to grow. I continue to learn. I continue to run. And I thank God for all that I have.
It's a hard lesson... but after half a century and then some... I believe that I'm learning to be happy.

Amen.

Peace,
Bob