Lead, Kindly Light

The experiences become more meaningful as we repeat events that have happened before–but with the added benefit of time and shared life in the intervening year. This evening at the ball, the players were the same, but we were all a year older, and therefore had experienced an additional year of life together. That meant an entire year of Bible study and small group with one friend… and an entire year of letter-writing, unexpectedly deep conversations, study sessions, and dancing (this was our…third? dance since last year) with another. Those factors made this time around much deeper and far more significant.

Each gathering like this also becomes more poignant than the last because of the finality of what’s to come. Parting ways – to Iceland. To Canada. To the City. Three people, going three separate ways. What to do? Today I was I finally moved to just say it: “I don’t want you to go.” And I guarantee you, that wasn’t the social lubricant talking.

We’ve got to hold on to what we’ve got
cause it doesn’t make a difference
If we make it or not
We’ve got each other and that’s a lot
For love – we’ll give it a shot

Whooah, we’re half way there
Livin’ on a prayer
Take my hand and we’ll make it – I swear
Livin’ on a prayer

And the answer I got was true – we still have a long way to go. Lots of fun times still up ahead. We don’t have to worry about goodbye yet. That’s good – because I’m not ready, and I don’t know when I will be. Or if I will be. Maybe we will dance and play and love all the way to the end — and then just… Unclasp hands. Take our respective forks in the road. Let go. Without fanfare, without elaborate goodbyes, without all the standard behaviors that attend that thing that we all think we need: closure.

Because closure would mean “closed.” Done. Finished. And maybe that lack of fanfare and lack of officialness would signal that we refuse to ever be closed, done, or finished. Because over the last three years, that with which we have been blessed and given – that bond that we have shared and strengthened – cannot just be broken off like a twig on a tree.

I don’t know.

* * *

Tonight I let loose in a way that I haven’t in a long time — or probably/maybe ever. It was strange, but freeing, and probably healthy in the long run. The thing about it was that I felt completely safe the entire time. Not safe as in physically safe, though obviously that was never an issue. But — emotionally safe. Experiencing that level of love and security is very freeing to one’s spirit. Trust already runs deep; it runs deeper after today.

Oh I need you, by me,
Beside me, to guide me,

So let’s dance, this last dance
Let’s dance, this last dance
Let’s dance, this last dance tonight…

Thanks for the dance, for the last dance, for every dance.

The sermon from this last Sunday was about the parable of the prodigal son. In the way of framing, Assistant Pastor talked about the man who killed five Amish schoolchildren a couple years ago – he pointed out that the Amish response to the killing was a portrayal of forgiveness as it ought to be: it was immediate and total.

The gunman committed suicide after the shooting, and members of the Amish community reached out to his wife and children to communicate their forgiveness of the gunman, and to express their sympathy for their loss of a husband and father. According to this story from Fox news, the wife responded to the outreach thus, “Your love for our family has helped to provide the healing we so desperately need… Gifts you’ve given have touched our hearts in a way no words can describe. … Your compassion has reached beyond our family, beyond our community, and is changing our world, and for this we sincerely thank you.”

In the same way, the father in the parable issued immediate and total forgiveness to his wayward son. First, he extended mercy when his younger son first approached him and demanded his inheritance–which in Jesus’s day and historical context would have been the equivalent of a son telling his father, “I wish you were dead.”

That type of demand would have spelled shame for the father, and even greater shame for the son, as the traditional response would have been for the father to disown the son–perhaps even holding a funeral to mourn the son that was now, for all intents and purposes, dead.

Then, when the son returned after squandering the third of father’s wealth that had been given to him, the father covered the son’s shame. As the son made his way home, doubtless the people in his village would have seen him in his miserably disgusting state (by the end, he had been feeding pigs), and recognizing him as that shameful son, they would have hurled insults him as he passed them along the way. The father ran to him and covered him with an embrace, and kissed him – and immediately reinstated his son back into the family, even placing a signet ring on his son’s finger. Immediate and total forgiveness.

So should our forgiveness be. Immediate and total. This was such a convicting sermon, as I have just been realizing in the last few months that one of my flaws is that I’m passive-aggressive to those who are closest to me. Often when I am offended or upset by someone, I silently seethe and gripe inside. If I don’t let it go, I just get all self-righteous and indignant about things, and any forgiveness, if any, is partial and very delayed. No good.

Forgiveness is about letting go of our rights to be angry, our rights to be right, our rights to be treated in a certain way. And immediate forgiveness is about learning to do those things right away–not after we’ve nursed our pride-filled wounds after a time. This is a very very difficult thing to do. And particularly difficult for me, I’m just now realizing.

Assistant Pastor brought up another verse – Luke 12:48 – “And to whomsoever much is given, of him shall much be required: and to whom they commit much, of him will they ask the more.” Pastor Josh said he had always thought of this verse in terms of material wealth (also my general understanding) – we often hear this verse preached on in terms of stewardship of financial resources or time.

But…what about in terms of mercy? He raised a very good point – that all of us are benefactors of an incredible, incredible grace. Could we interpret the verse as – “And to whomsoever much mercy is given, of him shall much mercy be required”? Jesus paid for the enormously and unbelievably and unimaginably gigantic mountain of my sins, past present and future. That’s a heck of a lot of mercy. So from me, much mercy is also required.

Convicting, right? I’m still reeling from this realization. **still munching on this food for thought**

 

Light and breath come from Your hand,

In Your presence, who can stand?

Even angels veil their sight, high and lifted, glorified.

Love outstanding overflows, in our hearts it ever grows

Sent to live and breathe through us;

Flow like waters, comes Your love.

Flow like waters, comes Your love.

Love like rain fall down, love like arms surround.

Hold the universe in place,

Hold my heart in Your embrace.

Loving Father, pure and right, waits, arms open, for the sight

Of the wayward son come home; celebration waits alone.

At first glimpse the Father runs, dripping tears fall on the son;

From His knees the Father lifts to embrace,

Yeah, to embrace and kiss his face.

Blood and sweat have made the way for the sinner gone astray.

Come and rest in His embrace, love has paved the way for grace.

Enter in, O wayward child, born in sin, now reconciled;

Live to please the Lord of love,

Live and breathe for home above, yeah,

Live and breathe for home above.

Love like rain fall down, love like arms surround.

Hold the universe in place,

Hold my heart in Your embrace.  Yeah,

Father, God come down. Father God, surround.

Take this wand’ring heart of mine,

Seal it for Thy courts divine, yeah,

Seal it for Thy courts divine.

 

Don’t get me wrong.

Being rational is a good thing, my dear friend. Many tragedies – in all facets of life – have arisen from irrational behavior. So I understand the desire to be clear-headed, logical, methodical, calculated, … all that. It makes sense to me. I get it.

But all I’m saying is, that’s not everything. The rational has led you to one set of conclusions. One conclusion says that the important pieces seem to fit, the goals seem to align, your abilities to share and communicate the most important things in your lives are clearly there, and some sort of deep and abiding affection is not lacking. The other conclusion probably looks at the mountain of logistical hurdles, the issues of both timing and distance, and… well, the fact that over thirty months have passed and you’re still on the fence about this. That probably tells you something… maybe?

One of my yellow post-its says that “God is in this too.” It’s wisdom from one of my girlfriends who seems to specialize in fortune cookie aphorisms. She’s right about this one. And I know that you know it – and I know that you are praying about it. So…good.

It’s good that you’re giving it over to God, and I believe He will help you come at an answer – I really do. But you know as well as I do that He doesn’t always answer audibly; sometimes He shows us through His Word [but I doubt anything in the Bible will directly tell you what to do in this case]; sometimes He appears in a dream [it's been known to happen, though never to me]; sometimes He speaks to us through others. Or through that mysterious “knowing” feeling inside.

So… all I want to tell you is that I hope you’ll do the rational thing – but that you’ll also search inside yourself to see if that irrational side is there. Does she make you want to try to conquer the hurdles, no matter how impossible they may seem? Does she make you feel inexplicably happy and secure? And, it’s so cliche, but… really: does she motivate you to be a better person–a better son, a better brother, a better leader, a better friend? It’s not that these things are sufficient — but they certainly are, in my estimation, necessary.

You’ve got time to figure these things out, dear friend. Take your time. Last time I checked with her, I don’t think she’s in much of an immediate hurry. Most of all, she wants the right decision – I know she does. In the end, she wants what’s best for you – so she tells me, and I believe her. So keep praying, and keep listening… and dig through your irrational self and find your true heart.

[2d publishing]

I live a charmed life, I’ll admit it. I’ve been blessed with more support and love from family and friends than I could ever begin to repay, and more rare opportunities than I can count. I must use it for good, though. One of the best things that I ever read was some email forward or some article about passing it on and “paying it forward.”

The idea is that we are surrounded by people who lift us up and carry us through and otherwise transport us from one spot to higher ground. And there’s nothing that we can do to repay. So we “pay it forward,” to the next person – by lifting them up, carrying them through, and otherwise transporting them from where they are to higher ground–because we are uniquely positioned to do so. And then we encourage them to go ahead and pay it forward again, and on and on it goes.

There is a beauty to this plan, a scheme in which we can all experience the receipt of grace and the giving of grace. Our instincts of pride demand that we pay back–that we remunerate, reimburse, indemnify. It’s hard to accept our own positions of weakness and inabilities to compensate for those indispensable blocks of assistance which we have received from others. We like to earn our keep – but sometimes, we just can’t. And that’s okay.

Because in the end, if we were able to repay, remunerate, reimburse, and indemnify, we would learn to expect the same from those to whom we give. Unable to receive grace, we would be less willing to give grace, because the same instincts that make us want to pay others back, makes us want others to pay us back. This is not the better way, however.

The cycle of grace given and grace received is much more biblical. And especially as Christ-followers, it mimics that which our lives ought to mirror in any case. When God redeemed our souls through the work of Christ on the cross and His resurrection, He paid a debt that we could never, ever begin to repay. Paying for our own sins is just way beyond any of our capabilities. It takes a willingness to receive that grace, to accept Jesus Christ.

What flows from that acceptance of love and mercy does a work in our hearts that makes us realize that just as we are forgiven, we ought to forgive others–and we can forgive, because our souls have been freed. Hence, the giving of grace. Paying it forward. It’s the way to go.

I don’t take it for granted that you made it to another year.

December was a scary time; I remember feeling so fragile and helpless, because you were also fragile and helpless – stuck in the hands of doctors who may or may not get things right, and at the mercy of technologies that didn’t exist even five years ago. And I was deeply anguished because I was unable to be there for you in person.

You told me that I had already done everything that I could, and that you could never have asked for anything more. And I cried, because I knew that you meant it; I knew that you didn’t feel like I owed you anything more than what I’ve given. But I always feel some kind of debt – a good debt, but I owe you all the same.

…in any case, God let you make it through. And they say you’re actually doing fine now. I actually think I believe them. It’s a strange thing, to feel a little more confident about your future. But it still doesn’t mean I take your additional years for granted.

I hope that I never take YOU for granted. I’m proud of you. I’m so thankful for you. My world would never be the same without you, and so much of who I am and who I’m able to become is because of you. And I hope that you always know, even if I never say it…I love you. And I hope to see you on the other side.