Holy Smokes

I have been curious about celebrating New Year’s.  It’s not like we are commemorating anything on the day.  It was not the result of an act of congress.  They would not be able to agree on it anyway.  But there is a human urge to sweep out the old and ring in the new.  More than a holiday surrounded by parades and bowl games, New Year’s Day essentially is a rite of passage.

Maybe it’s from undergraduate days of theoretical communication or theological training after that but I am a firm believer in the need for ritual.  That may be why I gravitated toward a liturgical church and probably thought by some as “high church.”  We need rituals in our life.  If we don’t have established rituals we invent rituals.  Think of children who start their “secret club” and create a password and secret handshake.

We have family rituals for birthdays.  We have family rituals for weddings.  We have family rituals how presents are to be opened at Christmas.  Those are special and joyful rituals that we pass from generation to generation. There are the designated family members who are the keepers of the tradition.  Families without rituals and traditions probably have the sociopathic family member who creates his or her own macabre rituals.

Institutions pride themselves with their rituals:  high school homecoming; junior prom; college fraternity initiation; volunteer fire departments’ water fights; 4-H county fair, etc.  Social and fraternal organizations in the community have a multitude of rituals.  They may wear special costumes and headgear to signify their ritual.

One of my crazy notions is to open franchises across the nation called “Passages.”  As a pastor I figure if you can’t win them, join them.  It would be a simple pavilion where secular people could gather to celebrate various passages, light candles, and play some special song on the sound system.  People could celebrate the end of orthodontia appointments, getting a driver’s license, receiving a lottery check, finalization of a divorce, retirement of a mortgage, honoring the memory Grandpa.  (If you have the start-up money, let’s talk.)

Meanwhile, I will celebrate the milestones of the faith as we walk the journey of the baptized.  We may light the baptismal candle on the anniversary of our children’s baptisms.  We honor their entrance in Sunday school. We make the sign of the cross in remembrance of our baptism.  Our children join us at Holy Communion for their first time.  They affirm their baptism in Confirmation.  Two baptized people come together in Holy Matrimony to walk their journey together. Being installed as a council member is even a declaration of our baptism.  Then, one day, a white pall is spread across our casket like our baptismal garment.  It states that our baptismal journey has come full circle.

Here’s the point:  Embrace the rituals, both secular and sacred.  Maybe it means wearing a goofy hat and sharing giggles.  Maybe it is somber and serious.  Regardless, there are those events and passages that mark the rhythm and drumbeat of life.

Hey there, you with the noisemaker in your mouth and confetti on your shoulder—Happy New Year!

Happy Christmas Birthday

Christmas Eve Day has had special memories for me.  Today would have been my mother’s 90^th birthday.  Nowadays, many people live well into their 90’s. But, Ruth Lorraine Lindsay Schaub passed away twelve years ago and at least a decade before her death she lived with the glacial erosion of Alzheimer’s.

Mom made it very, very clear that her birthday and Christmas were two separate events.  As a child she was told many years, “this is a combination of your birthday and Christmas presents.”  As an adult she was not going to let that be repeated.  Neither did she appreciate pretty cards with poinsettias and holly that read, “As you celebrate your Christmas Birthday. . .” A rude, comical contemporary birthday card was always preferred.

Birthday celebrations on December 24^th always took place at breakfast time.  Mom would open her cards and presents and enjoy the attention.  Sadly, I do not remember my mother ever having a birthday cake.  She passed on the cake saying there were enough sweets in the house already.  After breakfast, it was time to prepare for Christmas dinner because living on the family farm presumed that the Christmas gathering would move to the other house on the farm after my grandmother was gone.

Shortly after we were married we began noticing signs of memory loss.  It was more than what someone in her early 60’s would experience. By the age of 69 Mom was in skilled care because of classic Alzheimer’s.  Ruth never got to really enjoy her grandchildren.  We think of the things the kids said as children and how she would have gotten a kick out of them, but she didn’t.  We think how she would have made batches and batches of cookies for her grandchildren had she been able. We think how being a consummate dog-lover she would have loved our dogs and their antics.  We think how she would have used her beautiful soprano voice to sing songs of faith or sing little ditties with her grandchildren but they never heard her voice.

I fondly remember my mother’s birthday every Christmas Eve. There was something magical about celebrating a birthday amid all the festivities of Christmas.  It is a little strange when a tradition is suddenly absent.  So, we hold on to the witticisms of Ruth; we repeat the crude jokes she loved; we raise a glass in her Memory of sweet white wine that she tippled; we have a cookie (or three) made from the vast repository of her cookie recipes; and we try to remember that those with Christmas-time birthdays have two separate events.

A Design for Needlepointing

The best portion of a good man’s life is his little nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love.

 (William Wordsworth)

The nation is still reeling from the senseless killings at Sandy Hook Elementary School.  The massacre will continue to disturb us and trouble us collectively and individually.  Universally, in a ten-minute span of time innocence was destroyed, personal security has been threatened, and esteemed institutions were violated. We have been changed forever.

Since that tragic morning arguments from various sides of the Second Amendments have arisen.  I’m not really sure how I feel about it and this will not be the forum to influence me.  Meanwhile, there are also numerous discussions about mental illness.  There are horrible generalities linking the autism spectrum with sociopathic behavior.  That is just uncivil. Sociopathic behavior is witnessed in all sectors of the population.  Primary teachers see such behavior in early grades and know where it will lead but are they are helpless in redirecting that behavior.

Pastorally speaking, the core concern at hand is that evil exists in the world.  Despite how rosy some folks will try to make it look, this is a broken humanity.  Thinking we are isolated individuals is denial.  We are part of a creation that was broken by Sin.  (Note that “Sin” is a power and “sins” are the stinkin' behaviors that are the result of the power of Sin.)

So, we coexist with evil in this world. What are we going to do about it?  Here’s the point:  we overcome evil with good.  Sure, that sounds simplistic but evil is a fundamental problem that is dealt with fundamental responses.   The light must shine in the darkness.  People of faith may have to take leadership in this.  We fill those broken moments of history with actions of peace and reconciliation.  We replace  words of negativity with words that are positive and encouraging.  We model a lifestyle of redemption and grace.

The Prophet Micah recalls the questions of the people of what the Lord requires:  burnt offerings, animal offerings, oil offerings, even human offerings?   Nope. Micah replies, “God told you, o mortal, what the Lord requires of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God”  (Micah 6:8)

The Interim Geezer now tells you to needlepoint that and hang it above your bathroom mirror.

Happy Solstice!

Some conservative Christians might call me pagan but I can’t wait for the Winter Solstice.  The older I get the harder it is for me to handle living midway between the equator and the North Pole.  I make December 21 a goal to reach knowing that from that date the days will lengthen.

I don’t believe I suffer from Seasonal Affect Disorder but I certainly can sympathize with those who do.  Experts in the field tell us we should especially spend time outdoors during December’s daylight hours as if we are some sort of human solar panel absorbing the sun.  Those experts seem to forget, however, that we also have some pretty gloomy days during the month.  Our human panels do not absorb too much solar energy.

A hundred years ago when I was in college, I spent a semester in Germany.  At the end of the semester we spent a long weekend in Berlin at 52^o latitude where the days are even shorter.  Back in the days of the Cold War and where there is little difference between dawn and dusk, the gray days only contributed to the eeriness of a divided city.

It was no accident that the church fathers settled on December 25^th to celebrate the birth of Jesus. (I had one church member once who was adamant that the true birthday of Jesus was 12/25/0000, even if a lunar calendar was followed in Bethlehem at the time.)  The church fathers introduced Christian celebrations to coincide with pagan observances.  The Nativity was then scheduled to occur about the same time as Saturnalia, a celebration of the solstice.  Aha!  It would be something special and positive to celebrate in an otherwise depressing time of year.

Christmas becomes such a fantastic, living metaphor for the season’s darkness. St. John wrote:  The light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it.  (John 1:5).  But then, I realize our Christmas language is all focused on the northern hemisphere.  I wonder how my kinfolk in Australia speak of the holiday during the peak of the summer season.  I would be happy to do the research if I have enough sponsors.

Here’s the point:  If we don’t have the light, then we will have to be the light.  We are just going to have to pull off that bushel basket that has been hiding our light and let our light so shine.  Maybe it’s a light of beauty and creativity for a drab and lackluster world.  Maybe it’s a light of compassion and generosity for a world that has grown cold and selfish.  Maybe it’s a light of healing and peace for a world that knows brokenness and hurt.

In one shape or form, let there be light!

Audacious Advent, To All

Back in the 1980’s we hosted an exchange student from Germany.  We vividly remember how offended he was by the American pre-Christmas antics.  As secular as he was, he protested, “This isn’t Christmas, it is Advent!”  I must concur with Oliver and say, “Ja, wohl!”  It is Advent.

I could expound on the commercialization of the season but who doesn’t do that already?  Advent might be difficult to get our head around.  In a season that is just four weeks, or really, just four Sundays long, there are a number of themes that assail our wassail through this journey.  It begins with the theme of hope when Christ shall come again and the kingdom will be fulfilled.  Then, we have a theme of John the Baptist’s call for repentance and straightening our pathways.  The third Sunday tells of the Coming One who is our cause of rejoicing.  Finally, the fourth week is a dialectic between the cradle and the cross; we can’t have one without the other.  Holy Evergreen Boughs, Batman, that’s a lot!

In the face of all the cultural hoopla, how can we make this wondrous faith journey of Advent practical and personal?  Other than candles being lit catch-as-catch-can as the family snarfs down food, what other rituals might there be?  Wearing sackcloth and ashes during the Second Week of Advent may not be too practical and could get chilly in Wisconsin.

Here’s the point:  Maybe Advent is on the agenda of December’s darkness but really it should become integrated into our faith and life.  As Christians we embody the values and principles of Advent.  We don’t tick off the particular tenets on some sort of To-Do list, but rather we learn how to wait, we learn how to repent, we learn how to rejoice and we learn how to stand in the presence of holiness.  Here’s the really Good News—you don’t have to get it all done this week.

Have an Audacious Advent

The Interim Geezer

Postscript:  Personally, Interim Pastors hold John the Baptist as our unofficial Patron Saint who first fielded the question asked of every Interim, “Are you the One or shall we look for another?”