Lenten Journal: The Lantern and the Dark Knight

Two of my favorite heroes, Green Lantern and Batman, are probably the most different superheroes one person could follow. Green Lantern works in the light while Batman prefers the dark. Green Lantern protects the entire space sector of 2814 while Batman watches over Gotham City, ridding the city of crime. Green Lantern is light, Batman is dark. Each one is a part of a universe in desperate need of heroes.

The Lantern understands that his/her light shines out in the dark universe giving hope to all who see the green light. Green Lantern Hal Jordan prefers to shine as a brightly as he can so the evil ones will come to him. Batman hides in the shadows scaring evil into the light. Two heroes: one of light and one of dark. Each one bringing those who do injustice to light. Each one fighting evil in their own way and own style. One of light and one of darkness.

And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil. For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed. But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God.

In darkness, Nicodemus comes to Christ. He brings his questions to him and does not understand the answers. He lurks in the night for fear of being seen by his group, his friends, his social network. He moves through the back alleys and the rooftops and finds his way into a room with the light of the world. The dark and the light meet face to face. Nicodemus wishing to remain in the dark and Jesus telling him the light has come and only the evil prefer the dark.

Nicodemus wants to be a follower of Christ, evident in John 7:51. He likes Jesus and his questions in John 3 lead me to believe he wants to come out and be open of his belief but his questions showcase his fear. For him, it is safer to move about through the dark. It is better for him to wear the cape and cowl instead of basking in the light.

We are not that different than Nicodemus. We desperately want to follow Christ and we desperately want others to follow Christ so we put the flags of John 3:16. We testify to the light of John 3:16 but we deny the lifting up of the light. We deny the light to shine in the darkness because the light shines too brightly. We deny the cross as a way because we fear how bright the light could shine in a weak moment.

We are children of the light hiding in the dark because the light shows us our impurities. We cling to John 3:16 in hopes no one will see our own scars. We love the light of John 3:16. We fear the darkness of John 3:14. We fear what will come to light when we go to the cross. We fear we will not still be loved. The light of John 3:16 is greater than our darkest fear of hell. The lifting of the light of God that came into this world reminds us of God's compassionate unending love.

Lenten Journal: The Foolishness of the Cross

Have you ever done anything that was complete foolishness?

Everyone has, right?

It’s natural to do something foolish and at times almost fun to do. I remember when I was nine, I was at the park with my parents and I naturally went to the swings. I started to swing as high as I could. I was attempting to swing myself completely over but it wasn’t working and my parents called for me that it was time for us to go. I said, “Be right there.”

As I continued to swing my dad supposedly said, “He’s gonna jump.” To which my mom replied, “He’s not that stupid.” But I was. On the back swing, I moved my arms in position and while the swing was at the highest point I jumped, nah, I flew! I stuck a perfect landing, fracturing my right foot. It was wonderful childish foolery.

My parents thought it was foolish of me to do something like that. But I thought, as nine year-olds do, that they were ready to leave and the quicker I got down the quicker we could go. I was simply trying to be helpful; but I do not think jumping off swings 20 feet in the air is what Paul was referring to in his letter to the Corinthians.

Paul’s letter to the Corinthians is complicated. We have the privilege of sitting in on one side of the conversation; therefore, we get to imagine what the other side is saying, which is always fun. Paul is forced to address several issues in this letter. He addresses conflict over divided parties, issues related to sex, food, and worship. The church in Corinth had become divided into four different parties. One group claims to belong to Paul, another to Apollos (who, as Acts 18 tells us, was an eloquent man from Alexandria who was well versed in the Scriptures) another to Cephas (Peter’s Greek name), another to Christ. The church Paul has helped create has become a faction divided church. Each group proclaiming authority over the other. Each one saying they have the right version of the Gospel. Factions, like the ones Paul is addressing, are nothing new for the Church. Our Christian faith is divided beyond Conservative and Moderate. Our Christian faith is divided into spectrums of belief, each one having enough power to prove they are right.

Take those who stress the importance of church growth. If their church is growing beyond measurement, obviously their gospel is correct. Or take those who stress wealth. If their church is wealthy and established in the national spotlight, obviously their gospel is right. Or take the ones who highlight the unbroken line of tradition, giving power to impose truth. Obviously their gospel is right. If we take this example out of church walls, we can see it clearly in our world, specifically in our government. Republicans and Democrats, each proclaiming they have the answer to our economic problems. Each one having enough power to prove they are right. But, as with all the examples, none is advancing the message of Christ.

But Paul tells us that the message of Christ is foolishness specifically, the message of the crucified Christ on the cross is foolishness. To the world and to those who are perishing, the cross is for fools. To them, the cross is weak, feeble, and brings death. But to those, who are being saved, it is the power of God. To those who are being saved, they see strength and life in the cross. With the stroke of a pen, Paul turns their world upside down. With the stroke of a pen, Paul turns our world upside down. God’s foolishness is wiser than our human wisdom. God’s weakness is stronger than human strength.

Paul is arguing, quite passionately, that our message, the Christian message, is not about power or wisdom. God chose to use the cross as an opportunity to show God’s strength. Paul takes the hardest part of the Christian faith, Christ’s crucifixion and uses it to argue God’s strength. Paul proclaims Christ crucified because it is a stumbling block to those who demand signs or logically proof. Paul uses the death of Christ on the cross as testimony to the power and wisdom of God. What the world sees as foolishness, God sees as wise.

I grew up in the church and I absolutely loved it. I was always fascinated with how the church ran. I never really understood it but I remember going up to the church during the week days and being intrigued by the work the Pastor was doing or what my Youth Minister was doing. I remember once when one of my friend’s parents went up to the church to have a conversation with my youth pastor, David. I asked him what the conversation was about and he told me that he went up there to tell David get his act together and to work harder. It had appeared to my friend’s parents that David was lazy because he spent his time playing games with the youth on the computer or spent time hanging out with us.

In their defense, they understood work to be something that if you put in the hours, if you put in the effort, and worked hard, you would see the benefits at the end of the day. And in their line of work as doctors, they were right. To them, church work was foolish because there was no real outcome of any of the events we did. If none of us ever came forward after camp to make some declaration, some would think that David was not doing his job. They saw what he did foolish because there was no instance measurable growth. Some see the church as a foolish place, a weak place for frail people in need of superstition. But what they see as weak and foolish, God sees as strength and wisdom.

The struggle within our own faith begins at the cross. We struggle with what the world calls foolishness and with what God has called wise. We see the feebleness of the cross and its mortality and we see death. We see killers, thieves, criminals hung from crosses. We see the cross as the ultimate display of power by governments over their citizens. Our faith struggles within itself because we desperately want to be that power. We don’t want to be the ones who are wrong. We want to be right. But the cross shows us something different.

William Willimon writes,

“In this third week of Lent, as the church makes its way with its Lord to the cross, we pause. We stop for a moment to catch our breath and ponder the irony of it all. As the world snickers at the church, we pause with Paul to mock the world.

Along with the world, we expected to see a savior coming to take charge on our terms. Then the parade comes, and we find that we are standing in the wrong place to get a good view. Here comes the carpenter’s son, bouncing on the back of a donkey -- not coming for breakfast with Barrack and Michelle, or lunch with George and Laura, or consultations with Mitt, Rick, Newt or Ron. The smart ones, the ones who are well adjusted to the status quo, the ones in the know, neither see nor know -- so the story goes. Here is a messiah who does not make sense.

Only the very young, the very old, the women and the simpletons see him. They are standing in the right place to get a proper view. Along with the poor, the maimed, the blind, the lame, the prisoners and the poor old crazed men like Paul, these “fools” see things as they really are.”

The truth is, Christ crucified, the cross, knocks us off our pedestals. What used to be true about power and wisdom is no longer correct. None of us can claim absolute truth any longer because of the cross. The cross, Paul writes, is what God chose to shame the strong. God chose what was foolish in their eyes to shame the wise. This crucified Christ, Paul writes about, is the source of our life. This crucified Christ is the real power of God and the wisdom of God.

The world has never really seen the power of the cross. You might say some believers have never really seen the power of the cross. Our education, our stature, our logic, our idea of power doesn’t allow us to fully see the power of the cross. We don’t want to be fools. But four weeks from, we will be asked to be fools once again. We will be asked to jump out of our swings and act like fools by celebrating the resurrection of Jesus Christ.

Come Easter Sunday, what is weak and foolish in the eyes of the world, will become the instrument God uses to show us what true power and wisdom looks like. May God give us the strength to be weak. May God give us the wisdom to be fools as we preach and live out the message of a Crucified and Risen Messiah.

Amen

Lenten Journal: For Peace. For Peace.

Every Thursday, I meet with a church member who is on and off hospice. We sit in her bedroom and talk. We've talked about her illness. We've talked about her life. We've talked about her marriage. We've talked about her childhood. We've talked about her struggles. We've talked about death. Our talks are mostly her talking and me listening. As it should be.

Lately, we've begun to read through the Gospel of Mark at her request. Normally, I get uncomfortable when others want to read the bible with me because we all bring our interpretations into the reading. There is rarely a time a pastor can simply read the bible as a story and not look for the next sermon illustration or exegetical exercise. I have been thoroughly surprised with our time together. We read a chapter at a time and then I simply ask her what her thoughts are and her thoughts are truly magically refreshing.

This past Thursday we read Mark 4 and I was surprised to watch as she found such theological unknowns in the story. As she reflected on the text, I began to ask if she felt she was in the storm and if she felt she was a seed growing amongst the rocks. Tears began to fill her eyes as she wrestled with it out loud, “It seems Jesus is being an ass. He is sleeping and then nonchalantly gets up and calms the sea and then asks why they have no faith. The sower scattered the seed seemed careless in the scattering.”

We wrestled with the uncomfortableness of Jesus sleeping while others panicked and the uncomfortableness of the sower's carelessness. As we pried away the text, the beauty of her soul's greatest weary is the storm of illness that will one day take her life. The storm of 24 hour care. The storm of being told one day you have 3 months to live. The storm of being told you're not dying anymore. The storm of no longer sleeping in the same bed as your husband because of the machines you are plugged into. The storm of a marriage that is crumbling under the sickness. The storm of uncertainty. All because of an illness she was born with.

As our time came to a close I asked what I could pray for specifically. Instead of getting a laundry list I was given one word: peace.

Pray for peace.

And I did.

Have you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless. Isaiah 40:28-29

Lenten Journal: Who Do You Say I Am?

Jesus went on with his disciples to the villages of Caesarea Philippi; and on the way he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” And they answered him, “John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.” He asked them, “But who do you say that I am?” Peter answered him, “You are the Messiah.” And he sternly ordered them not to tell anyone about him.

Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their lives will lose it, and those who lose their lives for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? Those who ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.”

Who do you say I am?

That is the question above all questions, is it not? We offer Sunday school answers as Peter did. We are eager for that proud look from you, that look which affirms our answer and puts us ahead of the class. Yet we stumble when we learn of the cost of knowing the answer. Instead of earning gold stars we are given a cross and the cross frighten us.

Have you rebuked us? Have you been ashamed when we've denied our cross? Have you said to us “get behind me, Satan”? Have we set our mind on human things and not the divine? Have we mistaken you?

You say if we want to follow you, we are to deny ourselves and take up our own cross. You tell us those who seek to save their lives will lose it. You tell us those who lose their lives for your sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. Does this mean we are to give up our lives for you? Are we to live in such a way in which we put ourselves last?

Are we afraid of the cost?

We have much to lose. We have been taught to protect that which we have created. We have been taught to protect that which we have been given. We have been taught that if we just elect you as President or elect your chosen representative, we will not have to face the cross. We will do anything to avoid such pain. The cross represents more than your death, it represents ours. In the cross we see the cost and pain of following. We see a pain we are not accustomed too. We see a cost that goes against our way of life and our upbringing. In you, in the cross we see all that we have hoped to avoid.

We cannot avoid the cross. We cannot avoid the crucified Christ. We cannot close our ears and shut our eyes in hopes of something better. We cannot dream of the kingdom and avoid the cross as a way. We cannot hope for a Christ and exclude a crucified Christ. “Those who dream of a better life and try to avoid the Cross as a way, and those who hope for a Christ and attempt to exclude the Crucified, have no knowledge of the kingdom of God”; the kingdom of God which cannot endure our way of life.

The kingdom of God does not complete the human; it revolts against the human. The kingdom of God is pushed away by the political powers, the religious authorities, and the holders of tradition because it turns all that we have known upside down to make it rightside up. We react as if we are fighting an infection. If the Christ can make the lame walk, the blind see, and the dead rise, what he could do us frightens us. If the kingdom of God is like a mustard seed, we fear that we cannot control where it goes.

We have worked hard to build our empires. We have created pharaohs out of our money, politicians, and religious leaders and we have become enslaved to them. The Christ has come to set us free and that freedom hurts.

In the Voyage of the Dawn Treader, in a conversation between Eustace and Edmund, CS Lewis alludes to the pain the Christ brings with him and the pain of following him.

“I looked up and saw the very last thing I expected: a huge lion coming slowly toward me. And one queer thing was that there was no moon last night, but there was moonlight where the lion was. So it came nearer and nearer. I was terribly afraid of it. You may think that, being a dragon, I could have knocked any lion out easily enough. But it wasn't that kind of fear. I wasn't afraid of it eating me, I was just afraid of it -- if you can understand. Well, it came close up to me and looked straight into my eyes. And I shut my eyes tight. But that wasn't any good because it told me to follow it.”

“You mean it spoke?”

“I don't know. Now that you mention it, I don't think it did. But it told me all the same. And I knew I'd have to do what it told me, so I got up and followed it. And it led me a long way into the mountains. And there was always this moonlight over and round the lion wherever we went. So at last when we came to the top of a mountain I'd never seen before and on the top of this mountain there was a garden - trees and fruit and everything. In the middle of it there was a well. . . .”

“Then the lion said -- but I don't know if it spoke -- 'You will have to let me undress you.' I was afraid of his claws, I can tell you, but I was pretty nearly desperate now. So I just lay flat down on my back to let him do it.The very first tear he made was so deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart. And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I've ever felt. The only thing that made me able to bear it was just the pleasure of feeling the stuff peel off. You know -- if you've ever picked the scab off a sore place. It hurts like billy -- oh but it is such fun to see it coming away.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” said Edmund.

“Well, he peeled the beastly stuff right off -- just as I thought I'd done it myself the other three times, only they hadn't hurt -- and there it was lying on the grass: only ever so much thicker, and darker, and more knobly-looking than the others had been. And there was I as smooth and soft as a peeled switch and smaller than I had been. Then he caught hold of me -- I didn't like that much for I was very tender underneath now that I'd no skin on -- and threw me into the water. It smarted like anything but only for a moment. After that it became perfectly delicious and as soon as I started swimming and splashing I found that all the pain had gone from my arm. And then I saw why. I'd turned into a boy again.”

It hurts to follow the Christ. There is a cost to recognizing who is the Christ. And it is that which Jesus tells Peter in his rebuke. It is the cost and pain, Jesus reminds us of when each time we recognize him to be the Christ. A painful cost we cannot avoid. We cannot avoid the cross; for if we do, in hopes of a better life then we lift the things of humans and not the things of the divine.

Lenten Journal: Ministers as Spiritual Guides

“Those who seek to save their jobs will lose their jobs. Those who lose their jobs will find them”

Over the past couple of days I have been in dialogue with others about professional ministry and compensation, specifically salaries. I get very uncomfortable when it comes to talking about money and how much one should or should not get paid. I am fortunate that I make a very good living at what I do; while others are not so fortunate.

Two things irk me about the conversation: 1) The expectation that we should get paid a certain amount even if it puts a strain on a church budget and if they won't strain their budget you leave. 2) The expectation among ministers that we are validated by our congregation through the exchange of money.

I sincerely believe both are poor expectations of the minister. I have seen ministers make ungodly amounts of money while their congregation makes very little. I have seen ministers make so little they qualified for food stamps and struggled to make ends meet. I understand the issue of compensation but I struggle with the expectation of validation through salaries. I am more inclined to accept the call to a church who pays me little yet recognizes when I am overworked, exhausted, and worn out and sets aside adequate time for recovery through vacation and sabbaticals, than I am to accept the call to a church who pays me well but does not recognize the need for self care, saying, “Well, we pay you very well for your time.”

The discussion of money also leads to the negative effect it could have on ministry and the main purpose of my post.

Ministers have a unique calling in many ways. We are called to serve God, the church, our communities, and our families. We are paid to serve others through certain activities: preaching, visitation, prayer services, youth gatherings, retreats, or camps. Yet, in the unique calling, I wrestle constantly with the prophetic voice of my ministry and the salary attached to the strings that control my arms and body. The salary takes a calling and turns it into a profession.

The argument of salary leads to the negative question of who do we really work for. The natural and first response from both parishioner and minister would be God. We work for God so we have the right to use our prophetic voice. I believe that is partially true but a prophet was never employed by the church. In order to be such a voice, they had to be free of the control of the church in order to fully prophesy. Elijah and Elisha were not employed by First Israel Church.

Such thought has often led me to ask, “Are we going to see a change in professional ministry?” That question relates to the statement above, “Those who seek to save their jobs will lose their jobs. Those who lose their jobs will find them.” Before yesterday, my response was the same, I do believe we will eventually see a change in professional ministry with the possibility of ministers moving towards a bi-vocational or volunteer ministry. After yesterday, my response has change.

While I do believe there will come a time when ministers in order to fully live out the gospel will need a second job that pays for the mortgage and bills and food, and only work part time in a local church setting. I believe that time doesn't have to come. If ministers begin to see themselves not employed by God or the church, rather see themselves as the paid spiritual guide I think we may see a better shift in church ministry.

The spiritual guide is one who sees himself/herself as something more than a pastor or minister. They see themselves as ones who walk along side their congregation. They marry them, they bury them, they preach honestly to them, they live in faithful community with them, they flow with them through the ebbs and tides of this wild life while gently pushing them on the things that make them uncomfortable, to challenge gently with love. The spiritual guide recognizes when the congregation has swum out too far in the seas of faith and become frighten. They recognize the fear and instead of violently pushing them or allowing them to drown, they allow for them to safely swim back to shallow waters but continues with those who wish to keep swimming, constantly returning to see if any more wish to swim further out.

Ministers as spiritual guides is not a new thought. In fact, it was a required class at BTSR; however, it was not explored at this level. It was used as a time of personal reflection/prayer (good) and a time of learning polities for job security (bad). Ministers as spiritual guides, for me, is a freeing way to see my profession. Better yet, through the lens of a spiritual guide I am free not to see it as a profession. I am free to see it as a calling. I am free to be reminded of my ordination and the challenge set before me as a minister set apart and called by God to serve God's people. The salary then becomes neither a reward, expectation, or a necessity; it becomes a blessing, a gift. It becomes a gracious gift from a gracious people who I have the honor to serve.

Lenten Journal: Our Greatest Fear

Now who will harm you if you are eager to do what is good? But even if you do suffer for doing what is right, you are blessed. Do not fear what they fear, and do not be intimidated, but in your hearts sanctify Christ as Lord. Always be ready to make your defense to anyone who demands from you an accounting for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and reverence. Keep your conscience clear, so that, when you are maligned, those who abuse you for your good conduct in Christ may be put to shame. For it is better to suffer for doing good, if suffering should be God’s will, than to suffer for doing evil.

For Christ also suffered for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, in order to bring you to God. He was put to death in the flesh, but made alive in the spirit, in which also he went and made a proclamation to the spirits in prison, who in former times did not obey, when God waited patiently in the days of Noah, during the building of the ark, in which a few, that is, eight persons, were saved through water.

And baptism, which this prefigured, now saves you—not as a removal of dirt from the body, but as an appeal to God for a good conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ, who has gone into heaven and is at the right hand of God, with angels, authorities, and powers made subject to him.

                                                                                                                       1 Peter 3:13-22

“Do not fear what they fear, and do not be intimidated, but in your hearts sanctify Christ as Lord. Always be ready to make your defense to anyone who demands from you an accounting for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and reverence.”

What is it that you fear the most? What is it that you believe the world fears the most? What is it that you believe America fears the most? If we were honest with ourselves would our fears be similar?

The command not to fear what they fear is strong command. Why would the writer command the readers to not what they fear? Who are “they”?

1 Peter became very popular to the early church because of the verses on suffering and staying true to path. 1 Peter stresses the need to hold fast to the faith no matter the cost. They were not to be afraid of what “they” would do to them. “They” were the Romans.

The beauty of the epistles is we have to make an educated guess as to why the letter is being written. There is a reason behind Paul's letters. If there isn't then he and I need to have conversation about how he spends his time. The writer of 1 Peter, who assume is Peter the apostle writes this letter to a struggling Christian church in the midst of suffering to the point of death. Peter suggests the Church, when confronted to make their defense to anyone who demands from them an accounting for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and reverence. Tell them your hope and do so with kindness because they may not understand.

Pliny, the Roman governor of Bithynia, to the emperor Trajan, when asked about the Christians said, “I asked them whether they were Christians, and if they confessed, I asked them a second and a third time with threats of punishment. If they kept to it, I ordered them for execution, for I held no question that whatever it was that they admitted, in any case obstinacy and unbending perversity deserve to be punished.”

A community, exiled and persecuted, given words of hope attributed to a popular apostle, are told they are not to fear what the Romans fear. Do not fear; have hope.

What is it you are afraid of?

I rode my first roller coaster when I was 3. It was a loop d'loop at Six Flags Over Texas called the Shockwave. My dad stuffed newspaper in my shoes so I would be tall enough to ride it after begging to ride it. I learned to ride my bike by crashing it into my yard and jumping off at the last second. I grew tired of the training wheels, had my mom/dad remove them, took my bike to the top of the hill and rode my bike, crashing into my yard.

There was a time I was not afraid.

As the years give way to wisdom, I found myself dealing with fears I never knew. I still fear snakes. I fear losing my job. I fear losing friends over disagreements. I fear I will say something inappropriate. I fear I will get angry and lose my temper. I fear I will be seen as a failure. I fear I won't live up to my potential. I fear losing my wife and son. Small, yet deep fears that have the power to hinder my daily life.

What is that hinders you?

The early church faced great persecution of likes we as Americans, particularly white Americans, will most likely never face, no matter what Rick Santorum thinks. We will not be tied to lamp posts and set on fire to light the streets. We will not be asked to deny our faith or face execution. We do not face the risk of our doors being beaten in or our church set on fire while we worship. We will never see the gladiatorial arena and be used as sport to satisfy a hungry crowd. In some ways it is easy to be a Christian in America; but is our hope as great as the ones who our scriptures speak of?

In many ways our hope gets lost in our fear. If we were honest with one another, deeply honest, we are afraid of the loss of the church. We fear that if our pews are not filled to the brim, the church will cease to exist. We fear that if a certain Christian perspective is not made into law or Christianity made into the official religion, Christianity will cease to exist. We are fearful of being the ones who bring down the church. We are afraid we will anger God so deeply that God abandons us. We are afraid of dying both metaphorical and literal. We fear the goodness of God is not enough. Such fears belong to people without hope.

The apostle tells the Christian people to not fear what others fear because we have hope. If this letter is written by Peter, the disciple who denied Christ, the words carry all the more power. Here is a follower of Christ who did not follow him to the point of death. Unlike Judas, Peter held onto the hope of forgiveness. Peter knows the one who writes the story and he knows the ending of the story has been written. We have the ability to overcome our greatest fears because of our hope in Christ. We do not look upon death as others do. We no longer see it as evil. Instead death has become our friend.

“There were once three brothers who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight. In time, the brothers reached a river, too deep to wade through, and too dangerous to swim across. However, these brothers were learned in the magical arts, and so they simply waved their wands, and made a bridge appear across the treacherous water. They were halfway across it, when they found their path blocked by a hooded figure, and Death spoke to them. He was angry that he had been cheated out of three new victims, for travelers usually drowned in the river. But Death was cunning. He pretended to congratulate the three brothers upon their magic, and said that each had earned a prize for being clever enough to evade him.

So, the oldest brother, who was a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence. A wand that must always win battles for its owner. A wand worthy of a wizard who had conquered Death. So, Death had crossed to an Elder Tree on the banks of the river, fashioned a wand from a branch that had hung there, and gave it to the oldest brother.

Then the second brother, who was an arrogant man, decided that he wanted to humiliate Death still further, and asked for the power to recall others from Death. So, Death picked up a stone from the riverbank and gave it to the second brother, and told him that the stone would have the power to bring back the dead.

Finally, Death turned to the third brother. A humble man, he asked for something that would enable him to go forth from that place without being followed by Death. And so it was that Death reluctantly handed over his own Cloak of Invisibility.

In due course, the brothers separated, each for his own destination. The first brother traveled for a week or more, and, reaching a distant village, sought out a fellow wizard, with whom he had a quarrel. Naturally with the Elder Wand as his weapon, he could not fail to win the duel that followed. Leaving his enemy dead upon the floor, the oldest brother proceeded to an inn, where he boasted of the powerful wand which he had snatched from Death himself and of how it made him invincible. That very night, another wizard crept upon the oldest brother as he lay wine-sodden upon his bed. The thief took the wand, and, for good measure, slit the oldest brother's throat. And so, Death took the first brother for his own.

Meanwhile, the second brother journeyed to his own home, where he lived alone. Here, he took out the stone which had the power to recall the dead, and turned it thrice in his hand. To his amazement and delight, the figure of the girl he had once hoped to marry, before her untimely death, appeared at once before him. Yet she was sad and cold, separated from him as though by a veil. Though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not truly belong there, and suffered. Finally, the second brother, driven mad by hopeless longing, killed himself, so as to truly join her. And so, Death took the second brother for his own.

But though Death searched for the third brother for many years, he was never able to find him. It was only when he had attained a great age that the youngest brother finally took of the Cloak of Invisibility, and gave it to his son. And then, he greeted Death as an old friend, went with him gladly, and, as equals, they departed this life.”

Things of this world come and go. Empires will rise and fall. Loved ones will be born and loved ones will pass away. Such change hurts. The loss of a child, a mother, a father, a grandparent, a friend, a husband, or a wife, cuts us deep to the core, and in the moment we see death as evil. There was a time when death was evil; yet the psalmist believed that even in death God was there. There was a time when we could fear death but now death has become our friend. Our hope in Christ is that when death comes, we will be greeted as old friends and go with him gladly and depart this life as equals.

That is the hope we hold onto on this Lenten journey.

Lenten Journal: Fear of Replacement

I rode my first roller coaster when I was 3. It was a loop d'loop at Six Flags Over Texas and the roller coaster was called the Shockwave. My dad stuffed newspaper in my shoes so I could be tall enough to ride it after begging to ride it.

I learned to ride my bike by crashing it into my yard and jumping off at the last second. I grew tired of the training wheels, had my mom/dad remove them, took my bike to the top of the hill and rode my bike, crashing into my yard.

There was a time I was not afraid.

As years go by and age gives way to security or wisdom, I find myself afraid. As I reflect on my fear, I have discovered my fear was with death. Not an eternal fear. I am at complete peace at what may take place on the otherside. It is the fear of being replaced

We build ourselves up to believe we're irreplaceable. In some circles we may not be as replaceable as we are in other circles; yet we are replaceable. If I were to die tomorrow, eventually I would be replaced. The church would find a new pastor, Lacy would find a new husband, Connor a new dad, my friends would find new friends, my in-laws would find a new son-in-law, my parents would shift their focus to Connor and my brother. Over time, my name will be forgotten.

On the surface one may see that as devaluing the self or self worth. I choose to see it as the truth. From dust I come and to dust I shall return.

What is it I am to learn/discover this Lenten season? I am not entirely sure. Perhaps though it starts with the admittance of a hidden fear.