Bob's Blog

As I sit with people around the world waiting for name of the new Pope, I am stunned and amazed at the power of ‘white smoke.’

Author, Yale University professor, and scholar of Christian History, Jaroslav Pelikan once wrote that “tradition is the living faith of the dead, and traditionalism is the dead faith of the living.”  My experience in ministry over the past 26 years confirms this.  For while I see great value in the study and discerning process of the saints who have gone before us, and while my own reformed tradition is one that affirms the creeds and confessions of our mothers and fathers in the faith, I have to confess to wondering if some of our deference to the early church is misplaced.

There is no doubt that members of the church triumphant have left us a legacy full of important lessons about faithfulness, obedience and commitment, about community, justice and morality.  The Spirit of God worked as powerfully in their lives as the Spirit of God is working in our lives, and we dare not ever question or deny that.

Never the less, some of the ways they sought to be about the task of actually ‘being’ church, and especially the ways they sought to govern the church, have left me questioning the value of their example – especially as I watch the events currently taking place in the Vatican!

No don’t get me wrong – there have been many old men in my life who have taught me a great deal about God, and who have had a profound impact on my walk with Jesus.  I greatly treasure ancient music and liturgy, words uttered for generations, that link me to my past and give testimony to a heritage that I never want to forget.  The words to “Ave Maria” still touch me deeply, and the mere smell of candles can transport me back to St. Peter’s Roman Catholic Church were the roots of my faith were first nurtured.  And then there’s the awe inspiring reverence that comes with pomp and circumstance, moving me to contemplate the majesty and holiness of the transcendent side of God’s character.  And I don’t have any problems with red hats or even red shoes – I once had a pair of red tennis shoes myself.

But these days, the events occurring in the Vatican seem like nothing more than a smoke-screen for a church hierarchy that has lost touch with the Spirit’s work in average people, and the perpetuation of a tradition that . . . well, just seems down right dead!  At first glance, it doesn’t look that way – that’s for sure!  People have been flocking to St. Peter’s Square by the thousands, hoping to witness the infamous white smoke; and news stations around the world are glued to a chimney that will supposedly reveal God’s will for the world’s one true church!

But it’s 2013!  And  . . . well, what can I say?  People today are just hungry – for ceremony, and for pageantry.  People today are always up for a party . . . but for the things of God . . . well, not so much!

And that’s why I just can’t buy into it all!  In spite of all the good that has been done in the name of God by the Roman Catholic Church – and indeed there is much! – it’s wealth and power and control should frighten us.  The teachings still perpetuated under the banner of ‘Biblical Faithfulness’ and ‘Papal Infallibility’ continue to denigrate the role of women in the Church, negate the role of science in issues related to faith and morality, and preserve views on sexuality that are homophobic and abusive.

Considering the needs of the world today, this has been a mere distraction.  But soon, hopefully anyway, the Church can get back to those things that SHOULD be of concern to people of every faith.  Perhaps this new era for the Roman Church can become a new era for all of us, an era where traditionalism is put to death, and faithfulness . . . real faithfulnes, is born again.

Thirty-two years ago this month, I stood not two hundred yards from Ronald Reagan as he took the oath officially inaugurating him as the fortieth president of the United States of America.  This day, January 21, 2013, on the occasion of Barak Obama’s second inauguration to that same office, the thoughts and emotions I remember thinking and feeling more than three decades ago, have visited me once again.  Two very different men – one white and one black, one Republican and one Democrat, one a ‘builder’ and one a ‘boomer’ – inspire me yet again to want to do whatever I can, to be part of the process of seeking a more perfect union, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.

But I have to confess to sometimes wondering if it might be too late for me.

Over the past fourteen months I have visited Mount Vernon, the home of our first President, George Washington; as well as Monticello, the home of our third President, Thomas Jefferson.  I have made dozens of walks through the streets of Colonial Williamsburg, where the Founders of our nation once walked, dreaming of a nation where people might freely pursue life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.  And I have humbly stood at the feet of the Lincoln and Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorials, and in the shadows of thousands of grave markers in Arlington, all of which remind me of countless American heroes who have given their lives for this land that we call home.

In each of those moments, and in many others over the past several years, I have found myself reflecting on those who have shaped the history of America, and wondered what happened to my own dreams of devoting my life to public service?  What happened to my childhood dreams of becoming President, or for that matter being elected to any office that might allow me to make a difference in this world and to leave my mark on our nation.  What has happened to my following in the footsteps of that man whose ceramic head sat in the house where I grew up.  John F. Kennedy was carefully positioned on a shelf in our family room, beside an antique leather bottle, with penetrating eyes calling me again and again to ask . . . “not what my country can do for me, but what I can do for my country.”

I took that question seriously as young adult, but have to confess that at the age of 51, every now and again, I wonder if I’m too late.  And at one point not all that long ago, my wondering actually turned to worry!

I had met a friend from college for lunch, and we spent a couple hours talking about our life together at The American University in Washington, DC, and remembering the dreams we had for our futures – dreams born in our internships in one of the most invigorating and exciting cities in the world.   My friend worked at The Washington Post and I worked on ‘the hill’ for my Congressman, John J. LaFalce, and both of us had great stories to tell.  We laughed about our youthful idealism, reflected on hopes that had been tempered by years, and even mourned a bit . . . grieving over the sad realization that ours we’re probably not going to be lives written about in history books and talked about in high school civics classes.

But my mere wondering about such things turned to worry when, as we were about to leave lunch, my friend asked me if I thought I went into ministry as a way of avoiding the hard work of a . . .  ‘real job.’

Now I don’t think he used those exact words, but his message was painfully obvious.  He clearly felt as though I had lowered my standards by going into ministry, and thus missed the chance to make any kind of significant mark on our world.  And on days like today, I’m tempted to worry that his words might have been accurate.   Did I lower my standards?  Did I taken the easy road?  Have I missed out on the chance to leave my mark on our world?

On days like today, many of us may be tempted to think such thoughts.  Sure, we look at our president and jokingly and ask ‘who on earth would want that job?’   But deep down inside don’t we all wish we could serve the way our presidents do?  Whether we agree with them or not – whether we like their politics or not – when we reflect on the lives of Jimmy Carter, George H. W. Bush, Bill Clinton, George W. Bush, and now Barak Obama – aren’t we all inspired to serve just a little more heartily?   Aren’t we all motivated to serve a little more passionately?  And don’t we all, at least for a moment, wonder and worry over whether we’ve actually done enough with the lives we’ve been given?

Well if you are like me, and ever wonder about these kinds of things.  If you are like me, and right now are tempted to worry that it’s too late for you to make a difference in our world, then let me remind you on this important day of the words of Martin Luther King, Jr.  As this momentous day draws to a close, may these important words inspire you when you open you eyes tomorrow, and all the tomorrows after that.

“Everyone can be great, because everyone can serve.”

No, we can’t all be president!  All of us can’t discover the cure for cancer, and all of us won’t be part of a plan to bring peace to the Middle East.  Very few of us will inspire the next Apple product, and even fewer will ever walk on Mars.  In all actuality, the vast majority of us will probably not even be remembered in our families for more than a generation or two.

But none of this means that we can’t achieve greatness.  None of this in any way means that you and I can’t leave our mark on the world.  And none of this means that we can’t make a difference in the lives of the people whose lives we touch each and every day.  For even people like us, average people like you and me, can serve others, and make a difference in our circles of influence.  We can all do our small part in feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, and visiting those in prison.  We can keep an eye of the elderly widow who lives next door.  We can volunteer at the homeless shelter in the church downtown.  We can get involved with our local school board, write our congressional leaders and advocate for those issues that are important to us, and become part of service organization seeking to care for ‘the least of these.’

No, it’s never too late for us to be great, because each and every one of us can serve someone, somehow, someway!  All we have to do is get our eyes off of ourselves, and see the value in the lives of those around us.  All we have to remember is in this great nation, none of us succeeds unless we all succeed.

This night, as we reflect on the blessings of living in this nation called America, may we all recommit ourselves to being great . . . by very simply, serving those around us.  For in the end, this is what it means to be an American, and more importantly, it’s what it means to be human.

The Prince of Peace – He has come. He is coming. He will come.

Unfortunately, we don’t really want Him.  Or perhaps I should say we don’t really want the peace that he brings!

We SAY we do. But we don’t. At least that’s the way it appears!

We buy our children violent video games, with people running around shooting up towns and cities, and call the victors “heros.” We send our teens to Hollywood’s money-making glamorizations of murder and killing, and then wonder why there’s bullying in our schools. And worst of all, in the name of freedom and the second amendment, we claim that it’s every person’s right to own weapons of mass destruction, and make little attempt to enforce laws that keep them out of the hands of those who are in no position to excercise such rights.

We all SAY that we want all that the Prince of Peace seeks to bring; but such sentiments are not often enough reflected in the way we live our lives.

And please, let’s not naively say that this is because we ‘took prayer out of our schools.’ My kids prayed their way through high school, and no one can ever keep hearts from living in communion with their creator. Praying without ceasing is a way of life, and it is not something that can be forbidden or outlawed. And we certainly can’t blame the violence on a lack of Bible Study; because frankly, the Bible is full of more senseless and unGodly violence than all of the Bruce Willis and Arnold Schwartznegger movies put together! The violent state of our culture and much of the world cannnot be simplistically blamed upon a theology that contradicts our own, or on the view of an opposing political party.

Our culture is violent because we have become lazy people. Following the pattern of the Christ-child is hard, and living the ‘way of the Jesus’ often means putting others before ourselves. Our walks with God, revealed in the life, death, and resurrection of the one whose birth we are preparing to celebrate, are not easy ones.  Faithfulness is often about resisting the selfish, money-driven trends of our culture, and this is hard — for all of us. Making sacrafices for the good and well-being of others, and asking not just what is good for ‘me’, but what is good for ‘us’ — well, such attitudes are challenging to say the least.

Never the less, this is the call of the Prince of Peace, and peace will never come to our lives, homes, schools, churches, nations, or world, until we learn to takes serious the call of God to become peacemakers.  And this is not true just for those of us who claim to be Christ-followers. It is true for any person, of any religion that is seeking to know God.  And it is also true for any of us who claim to be Viriginians, residents of a “commonwealth” that is commited to the life, liberty, and well-being of ALL people.

Friends, Jesus came to show us the way to peace. He came, and is still here, to reveal ways of living that promote “shalom” in our hearts and homes, churches and communitites. And although we often fall short, the Holy Spirit contines to work and move in all of our lives in ways that will promote this peace.  But we must have the courage to follow, and there is no room for any sort of apathy.  We must make the task of becoming peacemakers a priority in our lives.

If God is indeed love, peace is the heart that holds it!  And God’s peace can only dwell in us when we acknowledge that like so much of our discipleship being a peacemaker will challenge long-held assumptions and ideas about what it means to follow in the footsteps of our Savior.  It is a realization that mandates we become more patient with our children and families. It demands that we become more fogiving of others and less angry toward those who challenge us. It forces us to consider the radical dispensation of grace when we’re prone to want to seek revenge.  It requires us to guard our hearts and to carefully consider how we and those we love entertain ourselves.  And it asks us to realize that indeed, it does take a village to raise a child, and each one of us has a part of play in growing a peace-filled world.

This is the peace that we celebrate this time of year. And this is the peace into which we all must learn to live. It is not just the absence of war, it is the wholeness that comes when we are intimately walking with the one who fashioned and made us.

So indeed . . . let there be peace on earth. But let it begin with me . . . with us . . . in Newtown, in our world, and in our hearts.

So tell me . . . someone . . . please . . . tomorrow morning, when we all wake up to the results of today’s election . . . is anything going to change?  I mean besides the fact that political ads will be gone from the TV and my phone will no longer be ringing a dozen times a night, will anything else be different?

For months now we’ve witnessed the ‘handling’ of two brilliant men, both of whom love this country and only want the best for the American people.  Entertainment news on every side has spun the issues and positions, and wound up serving up candidates who appear to be nothing like the men they really are; and all the while, we, the citizens of this great country have twirled and feasted with it.  The right has pit itself has against the left.  Liberals have squared off against conservatives.  The rich and the poor regard the other as the enemy.  And rancor rules the day!  Is it any wonder that so many find themselves despising the very government that our fore-bearers fought so hard create and establish?

And we have let it all happen!  WE have allowed ourselves to become pawns in the crazy game of American politics, and as a result we’ve become a house divided.  We’ve forgotten that in the end, presidents do not have as much control over the direction of a country as we might like them to have.  Our system, with its balance of power, makes extreme positions hard to live up to, and as a result, much of our warring with one another has been for naught!

So if I may be so bold, may I make a few things clear on this Election Day?

First, Governor Romney is NOT an elite misogynist who believes that 47% of the American people are lazy freeloaders; and President Obama is not a Muslim socialist seeking to discourage people from taking personal responsibility for their lives.  Many people want you to believe these lies, but in reality, none of them are true.  And embracing such lies only leads to destructive demonizing and discord.

Second, regardless of who wins this election, we Americans have far more in common than people like Rush Limbaugh or Stephen Colbert would have us believe.  Their messages and their methods are designed less to inform, than to garner an audience; and their motives are no more pure than the politicians they malign.  So we must never allow their agendas to distract us from being . . . “one nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.”

And finally, to all who claim to be followers of Jesus . . . “the earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof!”  “This is our Father’s world,” and when we all wake up Wednesday morning, God will still be God . . . regardless of who will be serving as President for the next 4 years.  So let’s remember that.  Let’s remember that no party, politician, or president can save us from ourselves.  Only Jesus can do that.  And he is our only hope for tomorrow.  Not the Republicans or the Democrats.  Not Mitt Romney or Barak Obama.

So tomorrow morning, can we wake up as one nation, under God, please?  Can we wake up and agree to put aside our differences and focus on all that unites us?  Can we open our eyes to a new day, brimming with hope and possibility, and rally around whomever is elected?  Tomorrow morning, can we leave yesterday where it belongs . . . in the past; and for God’s sake and mine, can we please NOT start talking about 2016.  Instead, can we try to come together as the great nation we know that we are?

You see the future of this country is in OUR hands, NOT the hands of a president.  So if we want to live in a nation where justice rolls down like waters; where people recognize that ‘yes!’ we are our brothers’ and sisters’ keepers ; where liberty, freedom and equality exist for ALL people; if this is the kind of country we want, then let’s not make this the responsibility of the resident of the White House, but rather seek to live out these goals each and every day.

In the end, this is what it really means to be an American.  And this is really my only hope for . . . tomorrow morning!

No one is more aware of my brokeness that me!

My wife is pretty aware . . . but even her knowledge of my sinfulness doesn’t come close to my own knowledge of how often I fall short.  My ‘first-bornness’ has made me extremely conscientious, and my type-A personality continues to push me to over-acheive.  But while such traits have caused me to work hard and accomplish much over the past 51 years, they have also left me keenly aware of my short-comings.  I tend to be harder on myself than anyone else, because I — more than anyone else — know when I’m being lazy, or letting anger get the best of me, or failing to forgive that person who has hurt me.  I — more than anyone else — know when resentment is being given too much room in my soul, or when selfish pride is being allowed to cast too great a shadow on my spirit.

So yes, I know I’m sinful!  My childhood in the Roman Church and my young adult years in the evangelical community have both left their marks on my walk with Christ, and I am well aware that I don’t measure up.

But — and this is a big but! — I’m finally beginning to discover that this is NOT my primary identity.  And it’s not your primary identity either.

Scripture makes it clear that each one of us is a ‘very good’ creation of God — crafted in God’s image, and people who bear the mark of the holy.  Jesus tells us over and over again that we are deeply loved, valued, and treasured, and that the Spirit of Christ abides deep within each one of us.  So no matter how deep and wide our sin may be, it never places any of us outside of the bounds of God’s love, grace, and mercy.

Unfortunately, and tragically, too many in the church today spend way too much time focusing on the sinfulness of humanity.  So,  is it wonder people have such a hard time rising above such low identities?

Quaker author Philip Gulley, in his book “The Evolution of Faith” writes, “When our primary identity is that of sinner, we will invariably descend to that low calling.”  And friends, evidence of this truth abounds in our world and in our churches today.  John Dominic Crossan takes up a similar theme in many of his writings, all of which reveal how Original Blessing always trumps Original Sin — and the church would do well to catch up with such ideas.   Gulley asks “is it too scandalous to believe that a spirit of optimism might well leads us not only toward a fuller humanity, but toward a fuller divinity, when we need look no further than within to see the face of God.?”

My answer is Yes!  Such teaching IS scandalous in the church today.  But that doesn’t make such teaching any less true, or any less important.  And it’s time for the church to speak up and make humanity’s primary identity known.  Yes, we are all broken and cracked vessels.  But friends, always, through those cracks, shines the light and love of God.  And when that happens, the cracks can’t be seen.  All that is visible is the light and love of the Holy.

So I challenge us all to live this day in that knowledge — realizing that each one of us is a child of the Divine, a bearer of the Christ to the world, and one in and through whom the Spirit of God does great things.

My wife and I have been doing yoga for almost two years now, and each class ends with the Spirit of God in me, ‘greeting and saluting” the Spirit of God in everyone else.  And I love concluding things in that manner.  It’s a way of saying that this time we’ve spent together has reminded me not just of God’s presence in me, but of God’s presence in you as well.  It’s a way of reminding myself and everyone else, that above all, each one of us is a beloved child of God — broken but not lost, a sinner but still a saint, broken and cracked . . . but still radiating the love of the Creator.

Ah, that we might all live this way. . . each and every day . . . in the Spirit of Namaste.

May it so be . . . amen!

To be honest, I don’t want to be blogging right now.

It’s 3:00 am and I don’t want to be thinking deeply.  I want to be sleeping soundly!

At this particular hour, I don’t want to be examining the condition of my heart or contemplating the condition of my soul.  No.  I want to be sleeping.  That’s what most healthy people are doing at 3:00 in the morning.  But not me.  I’m wide awake, tossing and turning, and now . . . writing.

Why?

Well, the reasons isn’t important.  What’s important is what I’m going to do about it.  What’s important is what am I going to do about wanting to controls things that are beyond my control?  What am I going to do about my unwillingness to let go of things?  What am I going to do about my frustration, my anxiety, my anger?  What am I going to do about my unforgiving heart?

I counsel people on how to deal with this stuff all the time.  And I can even preach a pretty good sermon about letting go and moving on, about forgiving, as I long to be forgiven.  So why can’t I do it?  Why are these kinds of feelings still lurking just below the surface, erupting when I’m tired, and bursting out when I’m the least bit anxious or overwhelmed?  Why, when I’m least prepared to deal with them, do they seem to take complete control of my soul, and lead me down paths I’d prefer not to go?  Why do they make me so sad, so restless, so . . . angry!  And of course, why do I allow them to keep me up at night?

Sometimes, I remember the words of the Psalmist and  . . . lift my eyes to the hills, or Peter’s challenge to cast my cares upon him.  Somtimes I can remember Christ’s call to love my enemies and to pray for those I’d prefer to hate.  Sometimes I can remember the things I’ve learned in yoga, and will breathe in goodness and grace, and breathe out anxiety and anger.

But other times, most times if I’m really honest, St. John’s dark night of the soul lingers too long, and morning comes way too soon.  And that’s when I find myself lying here, wide awake, and waiting, with angry thoughts and bitter feelings, with a heavy heart and a weary soul.

I’ve been told that joy comes in the morning.  I’ve preached that!  But maybe for me, right now, that’s not true.  Maybe for me, right now, it’s too early for joy.  Maybe for me, right now, I just need to . . . wait.

So . . . that’s what I’m going to do.  I’m going lie here and wait.  I’m going to pray and breathe, and . . . I’m going to allow myself to be angry – for just a little while longer.

Bob -Boy Baker — that’s what my aunt called me when I was growing up — “Bob-Boy” because “The Waltons” was her favorite tv show; and “Baker” because she once came to visit us and I happened to be in the kitchen baking a cake. (Still not sure what that was all about because I hate to cook!)

Anyway, Auntie — as we call her — is now 93 and she doesn’t really even know who I am anymore. But I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately, and missing those ‘good ‘ol days.’

Auntie is my father’s aunt, my great-aunt, and my kids’ great-great aunt. And since she was only married for a very short period of time and has no children of her own, growing up we were the only family she had. And she was with us all the time — taking us to hike ‘the devil’s hole’ along the Niagara gorge, to Niagara-on-the Lake for ice cream, or to some crazy church concert so we could ‘get saved.’ It was always fun to be with Auntie, and she taught us all kinds of things — some of which I will never forget, and some . . . well, some that it might actually do me good to forget. She was quite religious, and while I doubt my faith would be what it is today were it not for her, some of her ideas were . . . well, can I say crazy?

But I still miss her. And I miss those childhood days when I was surrounded by family who loved me, and shaped me, and taught me about life and living.

This Sunday I’m preaching from 1 Peter, and talking about the importance of the church being one of the few places left in our culture where intergenerational interactions are still valued and celebrated.

Diana Butler Bass, in her wonderful new book titled “Christaianity After Religion” writes, “The Christian community is one of the few places on earth where those who represent the full scope of human life, literally from cradle to grave, come together with a singular motive and mission.”

We all know that the church is far from a perfect place. It is flawed, and in some places, tragically. However it still remains a place where young and old still come together — to worship and sing, to eat and to serve, to play and to pray. It’s one of the few places left where a child whose grandmother lives miles away in another state, can find another ‘granny figure’ to pick him up and hold him. It’s one of the few places left today where the second grader who doesn’t have any cousins nearby, can find a high school kid to kick a soccer ball with after church. And for me, at least in the church I currently call home, it is still place where I can be known by young and old alike, and where together we are still learning about life and living.

Sadly, it’s too late for me to let Auntie know how much I love her and how grateful I am for the mark that she has left upon my life. But there are countless other ‘Aunties’ out there, and they’re waiting to hear from us. They’re waiting to love us, and to teach us, and to care for us. And they’re waiting for us to reach out and love them — to thank them for the marks that they have left upon our world.

So if you don’t have an Auntie in your life, start looking for one. And the place to start looking?  Well, how about that church — the one around the corner, that you’ve been meaning  to check out for months. Go and try it. You might actually enjoy all that is going on there. And you might just meet an Auntie . . . who will change your life.

Anyone who knows me well knows that I have been a fan of Amy Grant for more than 30 years!  Her music has always touched a place deep inside of me, and her thoughts and feelings have always profoundly resonated with my own.  That is particularly true of her CD “Behind the Eyes” — released in 1997, 20 years after her first album, and during one of the most difficult periods in her life.  Songs like “Somewhere down the Road” and “Cry a River” reflect a deep and brooding melancholy that I have to believe touches each one of us; and as I listened to Amy’s heart on my way into work this morning, I was reminded how often we never know what is going on . . . behind the eyes . . . of those we meet.

I’ve actually been thinking alot about this all summer!  For we live in a world where people are not really all that interested in those things that weight us down — those things that try our spirits and that test our souls.  Oh, perhaps they are for a while.  When we lose someone we love, friends show up for the funeral and support us as best they can.  And when we loose a job, or deal with an extended illness, or face any kind of major setback in our lives — those we love are there . . . for a while.

But then, days pass and time goes on.  The people we love — the people who love us — they move on!  After phoning with their condolences, mailing a note or  a card, or perhaps even sending over a cake to let us know we’re being remembered, they move on.  And not because they’re neglegent or inconsiderate; but simply because life takes them in other directions.  You see, others’ memories fade more quickly than our pain.

Let me say that again.  Other peoples’ memories, often fade more quickly than our pain!

Today, remember that!

Look deeply at the people that you meet . . . and consider not just what is going on in their life today, but what happened yesterday that is perhaps still weighing them down.  Listen for the unspoken words, and try to feel that hidden pain.  Because while it may not be obvious, chances are pretty good that there is still something that warrents a gentle touch, a warm embrace, a word of grace and compassion.

Today, in the people we meet, may we all seek to look . . . behind the eyes, and respond with grace and love.

Last night my wife and I went to see “Hope Springs” with Meryl Streep and Tommy Lee Jones, and like last spring’s “The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel” we were surrounded by senior citizens. Clearly we’ve crossed the line into that age where movies about vampires and caped crusaders no longer interest us.  These days we’re far more attracted to films about growing old with grace and keeping our marriage strong and healthy after the kids are gone.  (Ok, almost gone!)

So “Hope Springs” did not disappoint us!  Yes, there was a lot of talk about sex, but the message was still a good one.  And both my wife and I walked away thinking about how hard marriage can be, but how well worth it such work really is!  That was one of the messages of the movie; and unfortunately I fear it is a message that will not be heard by the people who need to hear it most today — and that is the young people in our culture.

We live in a world that is preoccupied by weddings — and I’m sorry if this offends my female readers, but this is particularly true among young women.  Before girls even make it to their senior prom they are on Pinterest planning their “big day.”  The wedding ‘industry’ in our country has distracted couples from the real task of preparing for marriage, and instead focused couples’ attention on celebrations that are little more than lavish displays of excess and extravagant examples of self-indulgence.

Is it any wonder that two years after the party has ended, when the reality of a life lived committed to another person becomes challenging, she gets up and just walks away?  Did no one model for her that a healthy marriage is about acknowledging that health requires work?  Did no one tell him that a wife’s job is not to make him happy — he has to work at that himself?  Did no one teach them that good marriages are not without problems, but rather learning to work through them?

I am the first person to say that I have absolutely no desire to go back to those days when people stayed together no matter what!  Far too many husbands and wives missed out on all that God has for them in this life because they were trapped in marriages that lacked the health, joy, and love that should be the fruit of healthy unions.  But why are people today so quick to give up?  And why are people so lazy that they put less time into the planning of their marriages, than they do in the planning of their weddings?

Perhaps the conversation that needs to be had in this country is less about gay marriage, and more about marriage in general!  What is the future of this bedrock relationship?  Why are people so afraid of it?  And is there a way that we in the faith community can do a better job of preparing people for the most important relationship in their lives?

If there is any hope for marriage, this is it!  Its work . . . and sometimes hard work!  In many instances, the work is so hard that couples can NOT do it on their own, and they need professional help.  But in the end — its worth it.  My wife and I know that.  Meryl and Tommy know that.  And many of you know that!

Now, let’s make sure our kids know that!  Because if they don’t, hope doesn’t spring, it dies!

It was like a museum!  Growing up, our living room was a place reserved for special guests.  Our TV was strategically placed in the family room, beside the hifi; and that was the place where me, my brother, my two sisters, and my parents hung out.  That’s where we ate Jiffy-pop popcorn and watched the miniseries “Roots.”  It’s where my sister laid on the brown shag caret and listened to her Donny Osmond albums.  And it’s where we put our Christmas tree and opened gifts on Christmas morning.

But the living room . . . no one ‘hung out’ in the living . . . ever!  It just wasn’t a ‘hang out’ kinda’ room.  The tables from Ethan Allen had shiny finishes that were easily marked up and required coasters, and the bone china roses from England were breakable and not easily replaced.  The large, red pillar candle was only lit once, when it was first set on the large red candle holder . . . but only then to make it look like it was lit regularly.  But it wasn’t!  And the green, Wedgwood ashtray was never used . . . God forbid there’d be ashes in an ashtray.

Once, in middle school, I invited a bunch of my classmates over to work on a school project, and for some reason, one of them — who I didn’t particularly like —  plopped down in one our living room chairs and put his feet up on our coffee table.  I almost threw him out of our house!

So it shouldn’t be surprisiing that when I got married, I wanted to creeate just such a room in my own home; and much to my wife’s confusion and dismay, that’s what we did.  We created a beautiful . . . museum . . . completely with shiney table and Lenox candy bowls that never had any candy in them.  We bought a camelback sofa that was more uncomfortable than a church pew, and most frustraing to my life partner, we had candles that were NEVER lit.  (We certainly didn’t want to chance them dripping onto the table?)

Well, today, that museum is officially . . . closed.  No longer is there a room in my house that gives the impression that the place in which I live is free of clutter and baggage.  No longer am I interested in giving people the impression that my life is not messy, and that it’s natural and normal to hide my ‘junk’ in closets where it cannot be seen.  No longer am I interested in trying to fool people into thinking that the life I live, is not at all like the life they live, but rather, mine is better, cleaner, neater.

You see, our living room was all about looks!  It was the room where everything had its place and where there was a place for everything.  But I don’t want to live that way any more.  Today I want to live honestly and authentically.  I want to live more spontaneousely, and in ways that invite people to come in, put their feet up, and relax.  I want to live a life that is not there to be admired, but rather embraced.  And I want people to enjoy coming alongside me, and living WITH me, and allowing me to live WITH them.

Perhaps most important, I no longer want to live a faith that is all about pretending, and hiding, and wearing masks that lead people to think that if they just believe and do the right things, their life can become something to be looked at and envied.  Because in the end, I don’t think there really are such lives.  And the ones that I think I’ve seen out there, where people spend all their time and energy pretending . . . they are the ones that I don’t envy at all.  In fact, they are the lives that I most pity!

I’m tired of living in a museum, and I’m weary of not be able to ‘live’ in my living room.  So today it’s all changing.  The  uncomfortable sofa has been replaced by two recliners, and candles will be burning all the time!  Today I have a room that says ‘come on in and have a seat’!  Let’s talk.  Let’s get to know one another, really!  And let’s walk together through this life that is sometimes hard, and often a little messy.

So when you’re out and about, stop by, and we’ll invited you in!  And if you’re not from VA, and ever visit Williamsburg, give us a call, and we’ll invite you over.  I’ll offer you a glass of sweat tea (or a glass of wine if my wife is around!), and look forward to spending some time with you.  I still may be give you a coaster, but we’ll sit together in our living room — that place where we ‘live,’ and together, for just a few moments, life  . . . in all its messiness, will be good.