“Well done good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of the Lord.” That’s what we say in church when someone dies that led a faithful life. In the fire service though, we say: “Rest easy brother, we’ll take it from here.”
Maybe weird for a pastor to say, but I like the fire service mantra better.
Yes, the church one is from the Bible and I have no idea of the start of the fire service’s phrase and I’m probably supposed to like the Bible-y one better, but still…I like the second one better!
I like it better because they both cover what God has done, but the fire service one invites us into our next steps: taking it from here.
Monday, I had the privilege of officiating at the funeral of John “Jigger” Muchow, life member of Rapids VFC, military vet and active member at Zion Lutheran Church. He modeled service, compassion, integrity, family first and care for his community. Sometimes for Jigger, it was as simple as a smile and laugh as he served pancakes at the Legion or the apple crisp at the church. In his life of service, I believe Jigger was showing us how to “take it from here,” how to live into that lifestyle of sharing your blessings with the world.
So when we consider those who have gone before us, how were they preparing us? How do we “take it from here?” And those who are still with us, what have they modeled for us as well?
At St. Paul’s Council meeting Tuesday, we took time to recall the people who have impacted, taught and led us and how we have learned what they modeled and now “take it from here.” We named parents, pastors, work colleagues, coaches and friends. The saints around us come in all shapes and sizes. Some we interact with over a lifetime and some God seems to place in our lives briefly just maybe to show us a thing or two.
Who are those “great cloud of witnesses” that have impacted you? What did they model…show you…live out? Take time to consider that/them today. Maybe reach out to them and thank them for the interaction, the brief moment or the lifetime of repetition.
And then grab that baton, hang on tight and take it from here.
Lord, thank you for all those who have been modeling faithful life for me. Amen
Yesterday, I got a chance to say “thank you.” And if felt great!
I went to lunch with one of our amazing local EMS providers on Tuesday and got there a couple minutes before he did. The host greeted me and noticed I had my fire service jacket on. After a couple statements back and forth, he shared with me that he wasn’t a part of a hall at all right now but he took some CERT (Community Emergency Response Training) courses awhile back and had to use it recently as one of his customers was choking. He recalled his training and used the Heimlich maneuver to free the blockage and save her life. As he retold the story, he laughed and said: “It wasn’t pretty, but it worked.”
And then I had this incredible sacred moment to just say the simple words: “Thank you for using your gifts.” As I said those words, I felt connected to him, to that story, to that moment, to that save. And I felt better about my day! It felt great.
Paul, the guy that wrote a bunch of the books in the New Testament part of the Bible, started one called Philippeans by saying this to the people that lived there and were starting a church up: “Every time I think of you, I thank God for you.” He STARTED it that way. A simple thank you for the things they did, were doing, and were yet to do. And in that interaction, he was connected to them. And it was good.
I know most of you don’t do what you do for a thank you. That’s not why we do ministry. That’s not why we have kids. That’s not why we put effort in at work. That’s not why we coach or teach. But giving and receiving thanks is about something much greater: connection to one another. I’m forever connected to a guy in a restaurant because of his story and my opportunity to say thanks. I’m connected to the people that have stopped to thank me and for the sacred conversations I’ve had with others when I’ve had the chance to thank them.
I want to invite you to thank someone. Someone in your church. Your family that supports you. Your coworker/boss that challenges you. Your coach who trains you. Your counselor who listens to you. Your friend that puts up with you and laughs with you. Call – text – write – show up – and let then know what that the small or large, one time or over time interaction has meant to you.
You will bless them by doing it. And you will be blessed by doing it. And it will feel great!
Lord, thank you! And help me to thank another and be connected through that moment! Amen
The image above looks so nice right? “You’re invited.” There’s butterflies and spinny things and fun looking graphics. Looks super nice. Like a five year old’s birthday party?
But what are you being invited into? What about “You’re invited….into an automatic car wash where the windows of the car are stuck open.” “You’re invited….into an entire class where the teacher scrapes her nails over the chalk board for 47 straight minutes.” “You’re invited….into a non-stop showing of televangelists mixed with infomercials mixed with inaccurate weather forecasts.” Those are the worst.
Or are they?
“You’re invited” usually mean that someone wants you at something that they deem as good. Fun. Easy. Relaxing. Playful. Peaceful.
Count me in! Where do I sign up? Put me in Coach!
And yet Jesus walks down the road, is identified as the Messiah of the world by John…the very Lord/Teacher/Savior/Lamb that everyone’s waiting on, and he INVITES a couple guys to come, follow him and join the journey….and they just jump in.
Wait what?
When we get “invited” to something, it’s supposed to be awesome. Like Chuckie Cheese without the screaming kids, infectious diseases and gang fights. Like Bills games without heart wrenching losses. Like taxes with only refunds and no payments. Like parties without having to bring a dish to pass.
Invited is supposed to equal “good/easy/fun/joy/peace,” right?
Except when it doesn’t. Except when it’s from Jesus. Except when it’s into a new type of life and relationship and following and decision-making-matrix and light-being and sacrifice-taking and epiphany-ing (made up word) and faith.
We are invited by Jesus into all that. We are invited, like the first couple guys, to be the next couple people to say Yes, to love More, to follow For Sure, to trust Unequivocally and to see where This goes.
I wish everyday of living into our faith life was like a five year old’s birthday party that we were all invited to with party games and cake and clowns no one was afraid of. But it’s not.
Faith. Following. Jesus. Invites us into REAL life. Real parties. Real traumas. Real transitions. Real ministries. Real crazy. Real life.
Our life.
But you/I were invited by the one that is already walking ahead of us. Already on scene. Already calling our names. Already showing us the way. Already giving his life for ours. That’s the Inviter. That’s the invitation.
John the Baptist was doing his thing. Baptizing. Preaching. Telling others. His whole ministry was helping people prepare a new way. In their lives. In the world. He was pretty focused on what God was about to do.
Just then, Jesus rolls up on the scene and he gets to finally say: HERE! He’s HERE! “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” Maybe he even pointed at him. I always picture it that way.
Not everyone in the Jesus story is so clearly pointed. Or pointing. Some interact with Jesus and walk away. Some get to the hard parts at the cross and seem to run. Some hear the challenge of faith or following and turn in the other direction.
But John keeps pointing.
As I reread his story this week, I wondered: Do I point equally as clear as John did? When those moments of kingdom-breaking-in-clarity happen, am I pointing them out to others?
Or do I walk away, turn the other direction, hide from the enormity of a moment or just falter overwhelmed by my own humanity?
I want to pay attention to that today. And I’d like to invite you to do the same.
As you go through today’s daily tasks, family moments, job lists, conversations and free time, who/what will you find yourself pointing at? How does your faith in this Lamb of God shape your pointing finger? Your words? Your actions? Your interactions? Your mission? Your quiet?
I’d like to think my day will be filled with John-like moments, but I’m fairly sure there are some huge gaps in there too. What’s going on in those gaps? How can I be more mindful/faithful in those moments to recognize God’s power and presence?
Let’s see what happens as Jesus rolls up into my day.
I invite you into this day of reflection as well!
Lord, help me be mindful and present to see where I’m pointing. And as I do, may I point more toward you. Amen
For our world leaders to “do justice, love kindness and walk humbly with God.”
For our military to be surrounded by a hedge of protection.
For our military families to know your peace and comfort while separated from their loved ones.
For each of us to model that peace in our actions with our own neighbors each and every day.
If you are searching for the words for prayer, I offer words from St. Francis:
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace
Where there is hatred, let me sow love
Where there is injury, pardon
Where there is doubt, faith
Where there is despair, hope
Where there is darkness, light
And where there is sadness, joy
O Divine Master, grant that I may
Not so much seek to be consoled as to console
To be understood, as to understand
To be loved, as to love
For it is in giving that we receive
And it’s in pardoning that we are pardoned
And it’s in dying that we are born to Eternal Life
Amen
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