Poor Thomas! He picked up the name Doubting Thomas because he’s the one who was busted saying, “Unless I see the marks of the nails and feel his side, I will not believe.”
And in an instant, he’s “that guy” for all eternity.
Why couldn’t he be known as Just Double Checking Thomas? Or This Is Too Good To Be True Thomas? Or Just Cause I Said It Out Loud Doesn’t Mean You Weren’t Thinking It Thomas?
Thomas got a bad wrap. Quickly. However, just as quickly, when Jesus returns a few days later, he becomes the Yes Lord I Believe Thomas. What a rollercoaster!
Ever been on a Faith Rollercoaster? On one right now?
I love Thomas’ story because it reminds me that even the Holy Moly 12 had issues with their faith. Even the Varsity Disciples doubted that God could even conquer death itself. If the other clowns hiding in the house had also fully believed, they probably wouldn’t be hiding, locked away or grieving but would have been out in the streets shouting about it. Expecting that this was going to happen the whole time! So, none of them really gets the Disciple of the Year Award that day.
It’s OK to have questions in our faith. It’s OK to be the guy in the Zoom meeting that asks how on Earth is God in this meeting? It’s OK to want proof.
It think that’s why Jesus breathed on them, right then and there: to give them the Holy Spirit and to sense Peace. That part of God’s presence that would carry us when those doubts overwhelm, when the grief causes questions, when we need the cliche “Footprints” poem to be a reality and have someone carry us.
That’s the Faith Rollercoaster. And the beautiful part of the 12-car group traveling those rails today is that the cars are filled with a little belief, a little faith, a little doubt, a little questioning, a little humanity, a little imperfection, a little forgiveness and a lot of Holy Spirit belting us all it.
May you feel that belt around you today with all you bring to the ride and know of God’s presence through all the ups, downs, twists and turns.
What does community look like right now? What does connection look like right now?
I try to imagine Jesus running Zoom sessions or putting his Sermon on the Mount over Facebook. I’m thinking our current Instagram/FB/TV/website culture couldn’t even pay attention that long, let along sit still for that type of teaching.
But what I have noticed in the past couple weeks is the craving from many for community. For connection. I’ve seen people in Zoom meetings that rarely come to “normal church.” I’ve seen folks plug into FB Live worship or watch on TV that rarely come to a sanctuary. I’ve seen more people look up on the bike path and wave as we run past one another. I’ve seen smiles linger and conversations fight through the awkward 6′ barriers. And that’s wonderful and beautiful and tricky all wrapped together.
But we’re all searching for something. Trying to fill some of these new voids. Replace and recreate old patterns.
And into that void comes Holy Week. Terrible timing that we can’t get together in person to celebrate it and yet perfect timing that we can experience it in a new way, in probably a new place and at an important time.
Jesus enters Jerusalem. On a colt. To cheers. To Hosannas. To Palms. And the crowds are a community. A mob. United. And I have to imagine that Jesus couldn’t have felt more alone. Isolated. Quarantined. His purpose was way different than they expected.
Then the crowd starts to split. Fall apart. “Who is this man?” they ask. “Some say the Messiah!” “Some say he’s trouble!” And community breaks down. Isolation and sides and divisions and splits and community falters. And in those moments, Jesus keeps going.
And I have to imagine that Jesus couldn’t have felt more driven. Connected to the Father. Passionate about his mission. His purpose was way different than they expected.
I feel like our culture right now, in this viral time, is a little bit Palm Sunday-ish. That the connections seem broken and the community seems to have fallen apart. But even in the middle of all this, I give thanks that the ability to connect to Jesus has only strengthened. That Holy Week is perfectly timed. That the cross that he walks to is the perfect image for us to hold onto right now. That this start of Holy Week leads to the end of it…an empty tomb. THE empty tomb. The one that connects us in the first place. The one that Christian community centers around. Connection and community.
So as we enter Holy Week and the palms fly in our homes instead of churches and community seems to struggle, may we know that this journey, this confinement, this stay-at-home week(s), will be Holy. And will also end at an empty tomb refilled with life, connection and community with God and one another.
I sort of missed the Transformers as a little kid. I still had Lincoln Logs and was the last kid on the block to get Atari. But we survived. Barely. I just really thought the Transformers were/are cool.
If you aren’t familiar with them, they are “more than meets the eye.” They are robots that change into vehicles and vehicles that change into robots. I guess they are from another planet and not from Detroit. But of course in every cartoon and movie, they always win and always save the world.
When they need to show people their power, they change (transfigure) into the right appearance so that they can battle evil and conquer!
Sort of like Jesus. He goes up to a mountain top, takes some of the disciples who want to just chill and relax with him and he changes (transfigures) to show them his power. God’s power. God’s eternal story. And then invites them back down the hill and into ministry. And in his transfiguration, he reminds them that he can win over evil, conquer the “bad guys” and carry the day.
He’s the original Transformer. He’s more than meets the eye. And he’s already saved the world.
As we approach Transfiguration Sunday, I hope you will remember that for your own life. You have a special superhero in your life, that’s not from Detroit, but instead from Bethlehem (a suburb of Detroit). And as you encounter your faith, Jesus, God’s story, remember that it’s actually always more than you think, more than you see, more than your normal, more than traditional church, more than the small minds we use and more than just a vehicle.
For your day today, God is more. God is transforming and transformative and transfiguring.
Still. Now.
Lord, thank you for being more than meets the eye. Amen
“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.
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