Walking through the Fear

     I was afraid of flying to Hawaii over the Pacific.  I had flown before, but I just couldn’t seem to get the fear of flying over all that water out of my mind.  At first, I tried the intellectual approach.  I looked up plane safety on the Internet.  I understood that I was far safer in an airplane than I was in my own car driving in my hometown, but I was still afraid.  I talked to a coworker, Paul, about it.  His helpful advice was, “Hey Rick, if you hit water going 580 mph, you’re just as dead as if you hit the side of a mountain.”  Cheerful. 

     So, the intellectual approach didn't do it for me.  I was still afraid.  I decided instead to trust another human being... the flight attendant.  I figured if she didn’t look worried, with all her experience flying, I shouldn’t be worried either.  Friends on the flight with me noticed how calm I was, even though I had been afraid earlier, and asked me about it.  I explained my thinking.  So I was doing just fine until we hit a little bit of turbulence, and the flight attendant who was walking by dropped to her knees and grabbed both arms of the seats on either side of the aisle and exclaimed, “Oh, my God!”  No, there wasn't a real emergency… my friends had gotten her to prank me.  She reassured me immediately, but I don’t think my heart stopped pounding the rest of the way.  It’s good to have friends.  You know what finally got me over my fear of flying over the ocean?   Nothing really... only getting to Maui.

     It's the last week Jesus's life, and as the Psalmist said, "fear is all around." The disciples are terrified: They are afraid of being in Jerusalem. They are terrified of the religious and government leaders. They are even frightened by the one they love most, Jesus, as he repeatedly predicts his own death. And nothing is working to get rid of that fear.  They tried to think their way out of it… to understand what Jesus meant.  But it didn't work any better than me trying to think my way out of being afraid of flying over the Pacific Ocean.  And it got even worse when Jesus established what we call the Lord's Supper.  He predicted the person who would betray him would be one of them.  Now the trust the disciples had put into other human beings crumbled… the man they loved has told him he's going to die in a short time, and now, they can't even trust each other.  Just like when I lost my trust in that lovely flight attendant over the Pacific Ocean, the disciples had all of their trust of other human beings ripped away.

     Fear makes you do stupid things.  Before supper, Jesus had given them an example of humility, by kneeling before them — even before Judas Iscariot — and washing their feet.  But the disciples are so afraid, what did they do in response?  They got into an argument about who was the greatest among them, and Jesus had to pull them up short by saying that Satan had demanded to sift every one of them like wheat.  In another gospel, he predicted all of them would abandon him that very night.  So what's the connection between fear and the kind of pride and arrogance the disciples displayed that night?  In what way is pride a type of fear? 

     Part of every healthy personality is having a bit of pride — pride in our abilities, in our health, knowing our gifts, etc.  But unhealthy pride is a protection against losing face or position — fear that someone will take advantage of us; fear that somehow we will get hurt… that someone else will get ahead of us.  What Jesus was showing his disciples, and what he challenges us as Christian to do today, is absolutely radical.  It’s natural to recoil from what we are afraid of.  But Jesus asks us to walk through the fear until we lose our human pride that so insulates us from one another.  Jesus calls us to be vulnerable, be willing to be hurt, be willing to be taken advantage of, be willing to lose our place of privilege — all in the service of others.

     It wouldn't have done much good to say to the disciples, "Just don't be afraid."  The only way out was for them to walk through the fear.  They had to walk through the garden.  They had to walk through the trial.  They had to walk through the crucifixion.  They had to keep walking, even when fear choked the very air they breathed.
This week we walk alongside them.  We walk through Maundy Thursday and remember our Lord's humility.  We walk through Good Friday and breathe in the fear of the crucifixion.  You know, I did get to Maui, and at night under a full moon I sat on warm black volcanic sand and listened to the gentle ocean waves lap on the shore, and gazed out at the beauty of the island of Lanai in the distance to my left and Molokai to my right.  The only thing that got the disciples over their fear was, walking through it, until they were finally sitting on the bright warm shores of Easter… then… then it was all worth it.  At the end of all the fear, there's hope, there's resurrection, there's second chances, there's new life. There's Easter.

     Finally, Saturday night and the Easter Vigil comes.  The new flame shoots up, and we carry a candle lit from it.  By being there, we shout to the whole world that light and love beat out darkness and hatred every time!  Easter day dawns and we celebrate the destruction of fear, and our Lord's great victory over the greatest of all our fears… death.

     It's okay to be afraid in life.  But if Jesus taught us anything by this last week, it is that if we keep walking, surrender our pride, live to serve others… we're going to make it.  An author, Kathleen Norris, wrote: "Fear is not a bad place to start a spiritual journey. If you know what makes you afraid, you can see more clearly that the way out is through the fear."

So, if you're wondering how my sermon prep is going...

     It's messy, but this is the clustering process I go through to write a sermon.   At this stage,  I'm just about ready to start outlining...  really...  I'm not kidding.
 

Google Reader Alternatives — Just Hold Tight for Now

Eyes, look your last!

 Arms, take your last embrace! and lips, O you

 The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss

 A dateless bargain to engrossing death.

 

— Romeo and Juliet, Act V, scene 3, line 112.

      Arrgh!  They killed Google Reader!  If you are not as big a geek as I, you may not have heard Google is axing its RSS feed service called “Google Reader” in July of this year.  OK, I admit quoting Shakespeare is a bit overly dramatic in this case, but for news junkies like me, this comes as a huge blow.

     What Google Reader allowed you to do is aggregate RSS feeds, i.e., gather in one place, things you wanted to read.  So, I was able to have a category called “Church,” which included the Episcopal News Service, blogs of favorite religious writers, and postings of places like Harvard Divinity in one place.  Under my “News” header, I could look at local news from our one, sad little newspaper plus a local TV station, or switch to national news where I had stories pulled from the San Francisco Chronicle, Washington Post, the New York Times, Atlantic, and Vanity Fair.  Without flipping from one website to another, all of my favorite publications were gathered in one place.  I could scan multiple sources, only pausing to read what interested me.  It kept me well-informed, and was entertaining.  Now, I and many others have to find a good replacement… I haven’t found one.

     The minute I signed in yesterday and saw Google’s calloused announcement that it was terminating Google Reader, I sprang into action looking for an alternative.  The two parameters for my replacement:  I want to be able to read articles on my PC and on my Android Phone.  Although there are a number of Android stand-alone apps for RSS feeds, I don’t like reading everything on my smartphone.  If you’re an Apple person, you can stop reading now since there are dedicated Apple readers out there I didn’t bother to look at.  If, however, you like me are a PC user, read on.

     Wanting this settled quickly, I rashly told my friends I thought NetVibes would be a good replacement for Google Reader.  I'm now publicly withdrawing my endorsement of Netvibes as an alternative to Google Reader.  It works well enough on your PC, but the web-based Android interface is so slow it's unusable.  Maybe it will come out with an Android app in the next three months and I’ll reconsider.

     So, I did some searching, and the reality is there are no good alternatives out there if you use Internet Explorer and want something that works well on an Android phone.  For what it's worth, here is my summary of the other RSS aggregators I've tried in the last two days, and my dealbreakers for each: 

• Pulse: Useless — Controlled from Android app; you can't import on the web or your PC; ten feeds fills up a category; I have more than that under almost every subject.
• Feedly: Only works on your PC if you want to switch to Firefox or Chrome; probably a good service, but the work of changing over browsers is crazy-making.  If, however, you’re already on Firefox or Chrome, you might consider it.
• Taptu: Only allows up to 100 feeds from Google Reader.
• Fever: Apple only; $30 for service.
• Newsblur: Only 12 feeds allowed, then you pay (Only 12 feeds? Really?!)
• The Old Reader: Supposedly like Google Reader, but no Android app.  Sign up and import is easy, but then the message appears: "There are 32460 users in the import queue ahead of you."  It's been about a half hour, and there are still 32,444 ahead of me... this does not bode well.

      So, what to do?  It’s only been two days.  A number of companies are gearing up to replace Google Reader, and I'm just going to sit tight and see what surfaces.  We have about three months to switch.  Keep your eyes open, and I suspect something better than what’s currently out there will be developed.  I shall keep all of my fellow geeks updated.

     You’ll excuse me, now.  I feel another bout of drama kicking in…

Death lies on Google Reader, like an untimely frost

 Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.  

 

— Adapted from Romeo and Juliet, Act IV, scene 5, line 28.

Haiku Kind of Day

downdraft of snowflakes

small gray wrens huddled for warmth

 

haiku kind of day

 

 

Giving Up Religion for Lent

“Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them…”   — Matthew 6

     You know, I checked and Hallmark doesn't make greeting cards for Lent.  “Hey!  Happy Ash Wednesday! Don't forget you're gonna die!”  OK, that's a bit grim. How about this one?  “Merry Lent!  No steak for you!”  Or how about… “Stay away from that chocolate! Jesus is watching!”  No, they just don't work, do they?  Not only are there no greeting cards, there are so many questions: Do I have to give up chocolate?  Am I supposed to fast?  Of course, the most important question: When do you take the ashes off?  I guess the simplest answers to those three are: You can, you may, and whenever you feel like it.

     In the Gospel we read, Jesus just encourages us not to hold on to the things of this earth too tightly… to walk on this earth just a little more lightly.  "Where your treasure is, that's where your heart will be."  During Lent the most important question is: Where is my heart?  I must admit, I am bound to this earth; my heart is very much here.  My heart is bound up in people I love.  My heart is bound up in places like my church.  And my heart is bound up in things more than I would like to admit.

     The Ash Wednesday greeting card Jesus sends simply says, "Get Real!"  Remember what real treasure is.  emember what real giving to others is.  Remember what real relationship with God in prayer is.  In the eighth century, where we find the earliest records of Ash Wednesday, penitents wore miserable rough sackcloth and ashes.  Ash Wednesday is all about scratchiness, things that grate, or don't sit right.   The dissonance in our lives unresolved until we find resolution in Christ.

     So once a year, the Church gives us ashes.  Ashes remind us we are mortal… all made of the same stuff.  I've always been convinced the only people who have time to be selfish, and crabby, and mean are people who think they are immortal.  If you're immortal you have plenty of time to fix all that.  Who cares? You'll get to it later.  But if we stop and admit we are mortal… strangers… only passing through… We only have time for kindness… We only have time for love.

     Ultimately, Ash Wednesday and Lent are about trust.  We are forced to stop and admit we are not all-powerful; we have to entrust our lives and those we love to God.  We are forced to stop and admit we've been putting our treasure into things that are useless; we have to trust that there is something better waiting for us.  We are not walking this path of Lent because we are afraid of an angry, patriarchal God who will punish us for our sins;  no, we are walking this path of Lent because of something much more frightening.  We are walking this path of Lent because God has revealed God's own true nature: God is a God of love, a God of forgiveness, a God of second chances.  It's a frightening thing to be forgiven.  A lot of people run away from it.  We're walking this path of Lent to remind ourselves of who we really are, what's really important in life, and who we have to trust.

     One last question: "Is it possible to give up religion for Lent?" The answer is, "Yes!"  I think that is exactly what we are called to give up for Lent!  Give up religion in all its false piousness, artificial community, and caring from a distance.   We are called, not to more religion during Lent, but to faith — to a living, walking, breathing, serving, and yes, dying relationship with the God who calls us the beloved.

A Prayer for Ash Wednesday

by William Loader

The darkness asks us questions.
You are out there and we do not see.
You invite us into the night,
          the stillness, the loneliness, the desert place.

 
We cannot see our shadow;
          the cold damp of unknowing rises up from beneath
          our feet.
We tread cautiously, tentatively.
 
We are afraid,
          afraid of ghosts
          haunting us with spectres of guilt
          and shame.
 
We would like to run back,
          reach the river bank,
          swim the Jordan,
          sit in the sun by the sea,
          mending our nets.
But you have brought us here
          - with no bread.
 
When we look we can see only ourselves,
          our darkness.
When we read,
          it is invisible words which cannot be grasped,
          thoughts we cannot clutch,
          hope we cannot capture.
 
Yet the wild honey remains a taste in our mouth,
          a memory for a new day.
 
Why have you brought us here?
What miracle will you perform for us?
 
The darkness sighs around us,
          dense with your unseen presence,
          close to our breathing,
          close to our breathing.
 
O darkness, enlighten us,
          embrace us with your invisible love.
Let us see your glory in the ashes.
Take us by the hand that we may trust the
          darkness.
Minister to us by your Spirit that we may not be
          afraid.
Jesus, keep the beasts away.
 
Amen

What do I have to give up for Lent?



Do I have to give up chocolate?

     What should I do during Lent?  Should I give up something?  Can I have chocolate?  Do I have to eat fish on Fridays?

     One of the great things about being in the Episcopal Church is we recognize the Holy Spirit works differently for different people, so we don't make many hard and fast rules. One of the drawbacks of being in the Episcopal Church is because of that, it can sometimes feel like you never get a straight answer.

     When I started attending many years ago, I drove a friend of mine crazy by asking a lot of questions about standing, kneeling, bowing, and crossing oneself. A lot of people did it at the same times, but some people did it at different times, and some didn't do it at all. The answer I got was not, "You do this then, and this at that time..." Instead, I got, "Well, some people do that here because... and some people like to... but some people don't do it at all."  I love how we always hear the reasoning behind why we do things instead of just being told to do something. Welcome to the squishy world of being an Anglican!

     At the beginning of the Ash Wednesday service this week you will hear the priest say the words, "I invite you, therefore, in the name of the Church, to the observance of a holy Lent..." (Book of Common Prayer, p. 265). However you decide to observe Lent, you are invited... not required.

     The Church has changed over the centuries, and Lent is no longer treated as a time of public penance. The general tone of Lent is, however, one of quiet and reflection. You'll notice the organ at church is more muted, flowers disappear or are toned down, the alleluias are not spoken or sung (Boy, are you going to love them when they reappear at Easter!), there are often more pauses in worship for contemplation, and of course, the color of the season is purple. Purple is a royal color: Lent is actually our preparation for Easter — a King is on his way!

     The three general areas typically focused on during Lent are:

1. Self-denial;
2. Acts of charity, and;
3. Prayer.

     These can take many different forms depending on what you feel you need individually or your family needs.  The only thing I would suggest is don’t kill yourself or your family trying to take on a bunch of new things; try one or maybe two things that work for you or particularly interest you.  Attend a service you haven’t tried: Go to the Ash Wednesday liturgy and remind yourself that you and everyone else are just human.  Observe the establishment of the Lord’s Supper and learn what it means to be a servant by washing the feet of another on Maundy Thursday.  Sit in the silence and the pain as you observe the miracle of Good Friday.  Go to the Easter Vigil and watch the new fire being rekindled and yell out your first alleluias in forty days!

Fish sticks?  Really?!

     Self-denial can be everything from fasting to something as simple as letting others get their way. The original idea of "Fish Friday" in the Roman tradition started because fish was the cheapest meal at that time (Plus, I understand the pope at that time had a lot of relatives in the fishing industry.) The concept was you had the cheaper meal on Friday and whatever money you saved by doing so, you gave to the poor. Not a bad idea, huh? Unfortunately, the original idea has been lost, layered over by centuries of tradition until all most people know is they can probably get clam chowder at Appleby's restaurant on Fridays. If this concept were instituted today, I suspect we would have "Mac & Cheese Friday". Fasting can take some unusual forms: A Lenten observance I did in previous years was I decided to fast from complaining... about anything... even in private. That meant if I spilled the coffee on the floor, I couldn't gripe about it.  Idiots on the road to work?  Sorry, I had to let it go.  Want to complain about the price of groceries? Too bad, all I could do was be grateful I had enough. Poor service at a restaurant? I had to smile and say, "Maybe the waitress had a really hard day; I'll tip more and be especially kind." Arrrgh!  This was one of the hardest disciplines I have ever tackled.  I never realized what a whiner I was!  I can't say I don't complain any more, but I will say I do it less and am very aware of it when I do.  I’ve heard of people fasting from Facebook or other social media (That’d be an easy one for me… kind of like giving up coleslaw… yuck, not a big challenge.)  Yep, self-denial can be a lot more than giving up the classic: chocolate.  My thought is keep the chocolate and try something harder — if anyone gets on you for eating chocolate during Lent, you tell them your priest said you could!

     Acts of charity can also take many forms, the classic being giving money to the poor — that was the original idea of Fish Friday. Notice how that knocked out two disciplines at once: self-denial and charity; add in a prayer before your fish sticks and Yatzee! You've done all three! The broad meaning of charity is love. Lent can be a time for finding a new, even challenging way to express love. Maybe you will challenge yourself to express love by being a better listener or caring for the earth by recycling. Perhaps your Lenten discipline will be to spend this time working on forgiving (Everyone has someone they need to forgive... maybe you even need to forgive yourself for something in your past!)  Perhaps you will focus on letting others in front of you on the freeway or getting out of the way of someone in an obvious hurry.  Maybe you will donate time in the service of the homeless.  Maybe you will stop being so busy and sit down and read to a child.

     Finally, prayer: It could be as simple as saying grace before meals — you can use traditional ones found in the Book of Common Prayer, p. 835 or be as free-form as everyone going around the table and talking about a blessing in their day.  Maybe you want to add a time for Morning Prayer or meditation.  Many of us don't necessarily need to increase our prayers as much as deepen our prayer lives. One way to do this is to shake up how you pray and try something different. There are as many ways to pray as there are individuals. You can use the Book of Common Prayer to pray (pp. 75–135), try praying while you walk outside, take a shot at the Anglican rosary (link), engage in contemplative prayer where you listen instead of talk, or attend a retreat at Church for new ideas; you can even pray by drawing and coloring! (link)

     Families can observe Lent with their children.  Take them to the Ash Wednesday liturgy and the services during Holy Week, but talk to them ahead of time about them.  Do things as a family to include prayer and charity.  Kids can learn self-denial from letting their brother or sister choose the TV program for the night.  Bottom line: Your kids will learn what they see you doing.

     For more thoughts on Lenten observances from people like the Presiding Bishop (who arguably has far more priest-cred than I), check out http://episcopaldigitalnetwork.com/ens/tag/lent-2013/

  

Lighten up!  Watch Chocolat!

     Final thought: For heaven’s sake, lighten up!  We aren’t observing a holy Lent because we’re rotten miserable sinners — we’re observing a holy Lent because we are God’s beloved.  We aren’t punishing ourselves to try and somehow become more worthy in God’s eyes — the scary thing is we are already forgiven.  Lent is about love… thinking of others… slowing down… knowing what’s really important in life… about getting our hearts beating at the same rate as God’s.  Christians are people of joy!  If you find yourself getting too serious, rent the movie Chocolat — I watch it every year during Lent!  

Note:  My thanks to W. & R. for giving me the idea for this post!