Friday, March 14, 2014

Lent: A Time for Incubator Faith


If you ask me, babies are just about the cutest things out there. Their fingers, toes, lips and eyes are all miniature portions of us grimy adults. Their little bodies still fresh and without blemish from the elements of the world. I have had the joy of getting to know two little babies recently, twins of a friend of mine. These two are no exception to the cute baby rule, their fingers and toes, lips and eyes are perfect. But my two new friends were a little early coming into this world; so excited to make an entrance that they had to spend some time in the hospital sleeping and eating in incubators.

Like all infants, these two were fed milk, with much time before any type of solid food would touch their lips. But besides their diet, there were many other precautionary measures taken toward ensuring their health. There were oxygen tubes, heart rate monitors, incubators, and many checks and tests by nurses and doctors. These two were examined multiple times a day with each step in growth monitored and applauded. One thing that is so wonderful and magical about babies is that their growth is hard to miss. These two little girls went from 3 to 4 pounds in about a week with the progress clearly noticeable. With cheeks filling out, multiple chins forming, and their bellies rounding, these two were shedding the equipment examining their every move. Soon enough my two friends were free of tubes and ready to be moved from the incubator. As I celebrate this day of growth and freedom with them, I think about their journey of a month in an incubator and our journey of just over a month through Lent.

In 1 Corinthians 3:1-3 Paul speaks to a community which is not yet ready for solid food. This community, freshly born is still focusing their eyes, only able to see worldly things and not the spiritual. Someday, Paul says, you will be able to receive the spiritual nourishment that I have for you, but as of now you are still infants in the faith, quarreling, jealous, and clinging to the ways of the world.

And years later here we are, eyes straining to God in our midst, as we move  between focus and blurred vision of the things and people around us. In many ways, we Christians are newly born, not yet ready to stand or function on our own, but at the same time thrown right into this rough and tumble world full of jealousy and quarreling. And so for our own good we need to be watched, monitored, encouraged, and fed along the way. This holy season of Lent each year is our time in an incubator, a time for examined growth and maturity. Instead of monitors, oxygen, and periodic check-ups we are given the blessings of confession, self-examination, and the ritual of fasting. Through these holy acts we are nourished, cleansed, and encouraged until the day that we are released from this incubator season, the same day we celebrate Christ rising from the tomb. But in this season of Lent we are not yet to the resurrection day, the day of hope and freedom and new life. So let us not rush to Easter too quickly, but remain in this closely examined incubator season of Lent so we can be ready to stand on our own, see Christ clearly in the world around us, grasp firmly onto the things that are good, breathe in deeply the Spirit God, and share with others the good news of new life. Through just over a month in our own incubators, we will not be fully grown, but we will be ready for the world around us, and ready to confront what the world has for us, for we have been nourished by God.


Just the other day I was able to hold the two little girls for the first time. While before I only saw them through the incubator and stroked their tiny hands, this day I held their precious  lives in my arms. Wrapped in blankets I could feel their infant legs squirming, as muscle growth continues to develop. The excitement of new life in my arms reminded me of the excitement and unpredictability of new life in Christ, available to us each and every morning. With just a few weeks of monitoring, feeding and examining these little girls have grown leaps and bounds. And through these six weeks of Lent as my two new friends continue to grow I am encouraged in my own journey of growth.   

Friday, February 28, 2014

Re:connect The Dots

Life can get crazy. Life can get blink and you miss it, grey hairs sprouting, forget what day it is crazy. This past year has been wonderfully crazy. In May I graduated from seminary, started full time at a church in June, and then got married and ordained in October. With moving apartments, joining lives together with my wife and beginning this wonderful call as a pastor I felt like life was moving in hyper speed. Imagine Chewy and Han Solo kicking it into gear in the Millennium Falcon with stars smearing by, leaving a blinding flash of lines. But in reality each of those lines are individual stars, individual dots. Even though in my imaginary Millennium Falcon I have flown past so many stars, so many dots, and so many individual moments and events, I can now take the time to connect those dots and moments that I have passed up, those stars flashing by. And the beautiful thing that happens when you connect the dots, the stars, and the moments, is that you get a clear picture of something bigger that the individual dot that is "me". I love looking up into the cold winter night sky and connecting the dots of Orion's Belt,
the easiest constellation for me to see. And as I have been looking at the night sky recently, I get excited about re:connecting the dots and the moments in my life once again; seeing how conversations with strangers, encounters with friends, laughter and tears, time with family, music listened to, movies watched and books I have read have connected to and built upon one another and highlight the line that holds us and these moments together. Here is to taking a step back and seeing the bigger, beautiful picture that God is creating here and now among us.