If Jesus walked by me while I was casting my nets into the sea and said “Follow me,” I probably would have said, “With all due respect, rabbi, I’m not prepared today to follow you because…”

 I like time to mull things over. As a reader, I appreciate that Matthew and Luke give me 4 chapters to get used to the idea, to meet the one who’s going to be calling, know his background, and sense something of what the risks will be. Luke has the dedication and birth of John the Baptist, and Mary and Elizabeth’s house party and Mary’s song and John’s birth and Jesus’ birth, and… and…

 Matthew has the genealogy, the birth of Jesus, the visit of the wise men, the escape to Egypt, the massacre of the innocents, and… and…

 John’s gospel has the lofty prologue that lays Jesus’ ID on the table. We’re tipped off to his being the Word made flesh before we ever meet him. In John’s gospel, the first two disciples that follow Jesus are disciples of John who follow Jesus before he ever calls them.  (1:37) John acts as his publicist (1:36 “Look, here is the Lamb of God!”)

 Maybe Matthew, Luke and John have got it right in giving us time to decide to follow or not. Spiritual directors advise people that, when they are making a life altering decision, they take days, even weeks, to consider each potential choice, to prayerfully enter into it, to weigh all the implications and all the ramifications. “Look before you leap.” is a time honored proverb (not from the Bible, but time honored nonetheless). You don’t quit a job without giving notice. You don’t leave your dad holding the bag with the family business and walk away without looking back. 

 But this is the gospel of Mark, not Luke, Matthew, or John. Mark would argue that our being called by Jesus is a situation that calls for the time honored proverb “He who hesitates is lost.” (Again, not from the Bible, but time honored nonetheless) This is the gospel that seeks to convey the urgency of Jesus’ mission and message. This is the gospel whose favorite word is “Immediately.” He uses the word “straightaway” or “immediately” over 40 times in his 16 chapters.  It occurs several times just in the first chapter. “The Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness” (Mark 1:12).  “Immediately he called them” (Mk 1:20); ” immediately on the Sabbath he entered the synagogue and taught” (Mk 1:21); “and immediately the leprosy left him” (Mk 1:42).

 Mark wants us to get on with it. So we shouldn’t be surprised that he takes the remote and fast forwards to the scene he chooses as the starting point of his gospel. “John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness…”  He gives me a line or two of description of Jesus (1:7, 8), then it’s baptism, temptation and you’re on… “Follow me.”  Here is your cue. Are you going to drop you nets, leave Dad in the boat and follow Jesus?” Or are you going to say “With all due respect, your honor, I’m not prepared today because…..”

 Why should an attorney never say to a judge “I’m not prepared today because?” I assume because, as far as the judge and his docket is concerned, today is the day. It’s go time and they are to stand and speak as best they can. Now, not tomorrow.

 That’s often how life comes at us. Death comes to a loved one and we say “I’m not prepared to deal with death today.” We find out we’re going to be a parent and we may say, “This is wonderful news, but I’m not prepared to be a parent today.”  When life calls upon us to change, to risk, our response may be “I’m not prepared to change today.” “I’m not prepared to risk today.” “I’m not prepared …..today.”

 When I first started out in ministry, I was an associate pastor at a large church, working with a gifted senior pastor who had a quirky sense of humor. I preached every 4^th Sunday. At 10:55 am each Sunday, we would line up in the narthex at the front of the chancel choir to lead the procession into the church. He thought it amusing to look at me expectantly on the first, second, or third weeks of the month, and ask “What is your sermon going to be about this morning?”

 One Sunday (it was definitely his week) we were standing there and it was time to go in and he has a distracted air, with a faraway look on his face. I nudged his arm and said “Paul, it’s 10:55. Are you ready?” He sort of snapped to attention, looked at me and said, “No, but let’s go in anyway.”   That has become my mantra when I feel stressed, flustered or not quite as well prepared as I would like. “Are you ready?” I ask myself. And I answer “No, but let’s go in anyway.”

 Some would like to believe that Simon and Andrew, James and John had heard about Jesus, maybe had heard him teach or seen his healings. But in Mark’s narrative flow, this seems to be the first time they’ve encountered him. They drop their nets and follow.

 This is how Jesus comes at us. “Follow me.” he says. He doesn’t ask to see our CV. He doesn’t call our references, ask to see a sample of our work, make us audition, run timed sprints, or submit a personal statement. He just calls and they just followed and maybe we will too. The only reason I can figure for their response in this lean, terse story is that they found his promise compelling. “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.” (1:17) I would never trivialize the job they were doing. People need food. But he was offering them a purpose beyond their current experience and their immediate needs. It caught their imaginations and so their adventure began. 

 But enough about them. What about you and me? We really don’t need any more preparation. We don’t have to know all that we are getting ourselves into yet.  We’ve had enough time to think it over. He’s coming our way now. “With all due respect, your honor, I’m not prepared today,” won’t cut it. All the preparation we need is to be even just a little bit intrigued and excited about the possibility of inviting others to follow Jesus too.  That’ll be enough to take the first few steps after him.

 “Are you ready?” I asked my senior pastor all those years ago.  His answer was one Mark would thoroughly approve of, “No, but let’s go in anyway!”

 They stride into Jerusalem like a person wandering bare footed into a snake pit, asking “Where’s the baby king?” Like someone strolling into a public park looking for the guy they’re going to buy a bike from on Craig’s list, stumbling into a drug deal.

Anyway, they stride in, all dignified and earnest, seemingly oblivious to the dangers in every alley and around every corner. They stride in, ready to take everyone at their word, ready to operate by the motto “what you see is what you get.” And then they meet Herod. The wise men are scholars and astronomers schooled in the close observation of the stars, but how are they at observing human nature? They see signs of deity in the stars. How are they at discerning signs of deception in shifty eyes?

The wise men are observant. They are scientists, astronomers. They use their powers of observation applied to their surroundings and they make deductions. With this training in close observation, maybe they saw through him. Enough to find his secrecy suspicious. Enough to discern his smarminess through his attempts at sincerity. Enough to have a hard time picturing him kneeling in front of the Christ child (unless he had a knife under his robe). We don’t have the visuals that would show us the side long glances they may have cast at one another that would tell us whether they were onto Herod or not when he sends them to do his legwork for him (2:8).

I like to think that, while they started out starry eyed, they became increasingly savvy to the evil that threatened and surrounded them and this child.  I like to think the dream that warned them about Herod didn’t catch them off guard but, rather, confirmed their dawning suspicions.

The gifts they brought to honor the baby speak of their respect for his divine identity and their realism about his death at the hands of humankind.

A Church Supply Warehouse website I ran across has a set of three small, ornate containers, each filled with one of the three gifts the kings brought to the baby on sale for just $29.40. Or rather, they had them. In red letters under the product is written “Sold out for the 2011 Season.”

No more gold, frankincense or myrrh for you! The Church and the world will both have to wait, possibly as long as until next August. I hope we’re only out of the three gifts in a literal sense. Because we need an ever fresh supply of these three gifts to offer this child as he grows and becomes strong. We need gold to value his identity as a king over our lives. We need frankincense to affirm his identity as the Son of God. We need myrrh to remind ourselves of his identity as a crucified messiah, to prevent our forgetting the forces within ourselves and our world that threaten this precious life in our midst.

All three of these gifts lie embedded in this brief text, only twelve verses long. It’s a narrative stream in which we can pan for gold, frankincense and myrrh. The metaphor falls a little short because, technically one can’t pan for frankincense and myrrh, which are the product of resins from plants, but no metaphor is perfect!

There is a wealth of insight in this passage, several themes that could enrich our preaching, teaching and living during the days ahead.

 “We observed his star at its rising and we have come to pay him homage.” (2:2)

This verse might lead us to ask one another: What signs have pointed you toward faith in Christ? Are you prepared to pay him homage? To kneel at his feet as a classic, time honored posture of reverence to a king?

“When Herod heard this, he was frightened and all Jerusalem with him.” (2:3)

Why was Herod so frightened? Of a baby? What did he have to lose and how did he see this baby as a threat? Let’s ask ourselves the same questions.

“Go and search diligently for the child, and, when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.”  (2:8)

Are our motives ever mixed with less savory ingredients like self interest, fear, and hypocrisy?

“When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy.” (2:10)

The knelt and paid him homage (2:12)

Does our acknowledgement of Jesus’ Lordship over our lives and our world bring us joy? Do we really believe it is a reality, or deep down do we think it is wishful thinking?

“Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.”

How do we honor Christ as our ruler, revere him as the Son of God and lament his identity as the crucified Messiah?

“Having been warned in a dream, they left for their own country by another road.” (2:12)

Whose guidance do you trust? How have you discovered whom to trust?

This epiphany season, may we be as determined as the wise men in following all signs that lead to Christ. May we be as savvy as they became to the threats to his life in this world. May we be as willing to pay him homage in our lives. The church supply website may be out of gold, frankincense and myrrh, but we can continue to give them as gifts to Christ this year, and through him, as gifts to all those we encounter as we travel to our own country by another road.

            One night this past week I had a very vivid dream. I was running- where I didn’t know, I just knew that I had to get there fast. I was running down a long stretch of road, and I was clutching a golden nugget in my hand.  It slipped from my grasp as I ran. I looked back at it gleaming on the road and thought to myself, “I’d better keep running- I’ll come back later and get it- right now I’ve got to keep running.”  Then a little voice inside my head said “Come back and pick me up now, or you never will.”  It was not a voice to be denied.  And so I did.  And as I knelt in the road to pick the nugget up, it gleamed on my palm. A feeling of relief welled up within me, relief that I had not made the mistake of leaving behind the most important thing.

            I wondered where this vivid dream came from. I couldn’t blame it on eating chocolate cake before bed, because I had had a virtuous bowl of rice chex and skim milk instead.

            But at the start of a new year, none of us has time to sit around contemplating the source of our dreams. We need to focus on planning and prioritizing to make more efficient use of our time in 2012.” The only trouble with that focus is that sometimes I have this nagging feeling that I’m doing things efficiently, but that maybe they’re not the right things, not the most important things. Maybe I’m not leaving the most important things behind.

            Stephen R. Covey’s classic self help book First Things First, first published in 1996, is still a great read for the beginning of a new year. In it he points out that many of us live by the clock, constantly running, trying to cram more activities into less time.  What we need to be doing for a deeply satisfying life is to live by the compass- the true north that is our inward direction toward fulfillment of ourselves and care for others. The wise men followed the star as their compass and it led them to the Christ child.  We today follow that Risen Lord, whose teachings form a compass for our lives. 

           The Sermon on the Mount (6:25-34) supplies us with two principles that will help us prioritize the New Year. They form a twin compass to guide the daily life of a disciple in 2012. They take the form of a negative and a positive: a “don’t” and a “do.” 1. The first is don’t be anxious. 2. The second is seek ye first God’s kingdom and God’s righteousness.”

            1. Don’t be anxious. Don’t worry. Note, the passage doesn’t say don’t plan. It’s been misunderstood to say that we should lie out in the sun as naked as the lilies and wait for God to clothe us. That we shouldn’t plan menus for the week, or even pack a lunch, we shouldn’t lay out something to wear for tomorrow, or even wear anything at all. Some people, skimming the passage have mistaken it to mean no planning for retirement, no practicing for the big meet, no checking the demographics of the area to determine if we need a new school, no studying for the test, and no responsible foresight. The passage has been misunderstood to say that to have faith means to lack good sense!

            But it doesn’t say don’t plan, it says don’t be anxious. A well known story about 16^th century reformer Martin Luther recounts that he was trying to do lots of different things at one time.  He was a professor at the University of Wittenberg. He had students to advise, lectures to prepare, and a commentary to write.  One week, he decided to put to the test the promise he had read in Scripture that “when you open your mouth, the Spirit will speak.” So he didn’t study his scriptural text for the Sunday a bit. Instead he spent the whole week working on his lectures on the Book of Psalms.  And when he climbed the steps to the high pulpit and opened his mouth, sure enough the Spirit spoke to him. It spoke directly and clearly. It said, “Martin, you didn’t prepare!”

            Any amateur golfer may have a couple beautiful shots in a given round, the result of luck or happy accident. But to have a high percentage of such shots is not for amateurs. A sportscaster once asked golfer Ben Hogan after an especially stunning round, “Ben, how do you account for the consistency with which you make the seemingly impossible shots?” A humble guy, he shook his head and said, “luck?” The reporter persisted- “How can you say that?  You practice more hours a week than any other golfer on the circuit!” Ben grinned and said, “The more I practice, the luckier I am!”

            It’s important to do the second order things: to plan, to work, to order life, but the first thing is don’t be anxious. As if it all depended on my efforts. As if there were no loving, guiding God as the Lord of the future. I read recently that the average person thinks about 1000 words per minute and that 75% of these thoughts are negative. Anxiety thoughts like “I don’t think I can do that.” or “What if things don’t turn out right?” or, “I don’t think that was the right to thing to say,” or “I don’t think they like me.” or “If I hold this event, what if no one comes?” or “I can’t go on like this.”  or “What difference can one person make in a world like this?” ”What is going to happen to me?”

            This begs the question: If I eliminate anxious thoughts from my mind, what am I going to think about 75% of the time?

            If ever there was someone who had a right to be anxious about tomorrow it was my friend Lucy. She had breast cancer that spread to her bones. Prayer was her mainstay during her radiation treatments. She recounted to me how, before one of her treatments, as she was praying, she saw herself being held in Jesus’ arms and experienced a deep sense of peace unlike any she had ever known before.  It was a blanket of peace. And she had the thought, as if Jesus himself spoke to her saying, “I have given my life for you- do you think that I would desert you in your time of need?”

            Lucy died a few months later. For me she continues to be an inspiration- if she could accept Christ’s peace in such a situation, isn’t the opportunity open for each of us in ours?

            Just before this passage about not being anxious, Jesus says this “You can’t serve two masters.” One way to interpret this is that we can’t live by anxiety and by faith – we must choose one or the other.

            What are we going to do with 75% of our thought time? What about seeking first God’s kingdom and righteousness? God’s righteousness is the central quality of God’s character as revealed to us in the Old and New Testaments.  Not a rigid moral demand that we be flawless, but the compassion and mercy God habitually shows to human beings.

            Do we have to be flawless to enter into this relationship? Not at all. The Israelites before the exile had what was called a ceremony at the gate. The people would process to the entrance of the outer court of the Temple and call into the priest “Who may ascend the mountain of God, who may stand in God’s holy place?”  To this the temple priest would call out from the inner court: “He whose hands are clean and whose heart is pure, who does not direct his thought towards evil.” In other words, not the one who is perfect, but the one who is repentant, the one who is willing continually to turn his or her priorities back toward God. For this person, the gates are open to a relationship with God.

            A United Methodist Church in Ivyland, Pa. had on its church sign the week after Christmas, “O Come All Ye Faithful, and Anyone Else.”  We are all the “anyone else.” Seeking God’s righeousness means, not being flawless, but being willing to say yes to the relationship God seeks to have with us. It means that we daily affirm God’s righteousness, God’s compassionate care and love for us as a reality deeper than our anxious emotions. It means we allow our trust in God to overtakes the 75% of our thoughts that are negative.

             I don’t want to keep running down the road of 2012 leaving behind the most important thing. I want to go back and pick up the shining nugget of truth and carry it with me as the run the race of life. “Don’t be anxious. Seek ye first God’s kingdom and God’s righteousness.”

A few weeks ago, in emailing a student whose name was very similar to my seminary friend’s, I accidentally emailed her. She wrote back and said that it was nice to hear from me but that she assumed the message was meant for someone else. Her return address showed she lived not far from our oldest daughter Melissa in Austin. Melissa is a sous chef at Sobani restaurant in Lakeway. She works 6 days a week and has Sunday off, so from time to time my husband and I will drive down Saturday, eat in her restaurant, and then spend Sunday with her. Eating gourmet food at your child’s restaurant is a tough job, but someone’s got to do it! What can I say, we’re sacrificial parents.

When we decided to go to Austin last weekend, my accidental email to a friend I’ve not seen for 30 years suddenly seemed serendipitous. So I called her to see if, after all this time, she still remembered me enough to want to have lunch while I was in town. As soon as I heard her voice, the years peeled away. She was delighted to hear from me and incredulous that we’d been living in the same state for 12 years without getting together. We made plans to meet for lunch.

It was a wonderful time of catch up. We talked nonstop for 4 hours, sharing the triumphs and traumas of our lives over the past many years until it was time to part with the promise to not let 30 years go by again before we got together.

Mingled in with the joy and delight of seeing her again were a couple of troubling questions I directed at myself-

How does someone let 30 years go by without contacting a friend? I thought of it only from my side, but I guess there are two. I started thinking- do I treat God like this? God is living close by, but until there is an opening in my schedule, I don’t make time to get together with God? In the various ups and downs of her life, my friend had called on other friends, with whom she shared daily contact, on whom she could rely to help her in a crisis. She hadn’t called on me because I was a friend in memory only. That was at least half my fault.

So since I had allowed myself to be out of touch with her, suppose I had had a health crisis- maybe I got sick at home and my family was all out of town and I needed a friend to take me to the doctor. Would I call her and say “Hi, I know I haven’t been in touch for 30 years, but could you drive to Dallas from Austin and take me to my doctor appointment? “ For many people, God is a friend in memory only, a nostalgic wisp of emotion from childhood.

Thinking of this in terms of my friend’s Grocery Store sermon from seminary- if I put preoccupation with my own agenda in my shopping cart and leave out time for nurturing relationships, (with others and with God) sooner or later I’m going to have to pay for what’s in the cart and for what isn’t. The price is the loss of the opportunity for a friendship that could enrich and nurture me and my friend. And we never know when checkout time will occur. It’s not always a time of our choosing.

The recent accidental death of a student at the school where I teach reminds me and many others of the fragility of human life and the often unexpected intrusion of death. It’s too late for me to call this student and get a cup of coffee and offer her encouragement in her vocation. I had planned to do that this month, but now it’s too late. But it’s not too late for me and my friend from seminary.

We’d better not wait another 30 years for our next lunch, though.

“Beware of the Bears”

I was recently hiking with my husband in Colorado in an aspen forest near Vail. It’s been hot in Dallas in August.  I was counting my blessings to have a few days in a cooler climate. I had worn a hat, a Columbia brand “adventure hat” I bought at a sporting goods store. I had slathered sunscreen all over face, neck and arms. I had sprayed bug spray on my ankles, neck, wrists, and even the brim of my hat. I had brought a bottle of water and a zone bar. I had taken every precaution to guard against sunburn, bug bites, dehydration and hunger. There was one danger I had apparently forgotten though.  It came to my attention about 2 miles into the hike when I came upon a sign that said “Warning: Black Bears in the area.” I stopped and looked at the sign, thinking that it would have been good to know that at the beginning of the hike. Or maybe not.  In some cases in life it may be a good thing that we don’t know exactly what we’re getting into, because we might never take the risk.  I’ll leave it to you the reader to come up with your own examples.

As   I stood there looking at the black bear warning sign, I pictured me being confronted by a black bear. I wondered- what would I do? I would smile at the bear, gesture for it to hold off on making its next move for just a moment, pull out my iPhone and look up “What to do when confronted by a black bear.” Maybe it would have been better to look that up before I started the hike.

If I had I would have found out some invaluable information about black bears and tips on what to do when you meet one.  I did just that as soon as I got back to my room.

I found out that that “black bears populates forests in North America, and frequently climb trees. I thought, “Isn’t that cute! I used to like to climb trees too when I was a kid.” I read on.

“They generally fear you more than you fear them and will do anything to avoid humans. But sows, during the breeding season and while raising their cubs, can be dangerous since their behavior will be erratic and dangerous if they detect a danger to their babies. Otherwise, black bears are generally wary, timid and retiring, and try to avoid or escape human beings. They are predominantly herbivores.”

This was good to know, but what if the bear in question hadn’t read the website and didn’t realize that it was supposed to fear me more than I feared it. What if it didn’t realize that it was by nature wary and timid? What does “predominantly” mean in the context of my hypothetical encounter with a black bear?

As I continued reading the website I learned that “Bear confrontations can occur in any setting, from town to isolated country. Although nothing will guarantee your safety in bear country (their one predictability is their unpredictability), knowledge of bears and proper behavior will reduce your risk.

 “Their one predictability is their unpredictability??” I don’t like the sound of that.

 Still, I read on… “In all instances,” said the website, “if you see a bear, leave. Walk backwards at an angle. Do not disturb it. Always leave the bear an escape route. Don’t panic or look the bear in the eyes. He perceives your eye contact as a threat. The bear will stand on its back legs, sniffing the air to analyze his situation. (He has bad eyesight but a keen “sniffer.”) He may “eye” you intently. Once he identifies you as a human, he will leave.

 This seems like a lot of details to keep in mind. What if I forget and look the bear directly in the eyes, while walking toward it in a threatening manner?

 “Pepper spray made from the juice of red hot peppers is a bear deterrent, incapacitating him and teaching him a lesson. Use it at six to eight yards.”

 Yes and what kind of lesson would that be? Don’t mess with homiletics professors? Besides, I thought I was supposed to be walking backwards at an angle without making eye contact. How does the pepper spray manoever come in?

 “Do not feed bears. Feeding them makes them “food-conditioned:” A fed bear is a dead bear, according to John Hechtel, a biologist in Alaska who studies bears. He notes that 95% of food-conditioned bears eventually become nuisances and must be killed.”

 That’s not a problem. I only had one zone bar and I already ate it.

 —Do not throw rocks or other items at bears to get their attention, even if you are after that unique bear photograph.

 This piece of advice is unnecessary. “Getting that unique bear photograph” is not on my bucket list.

 —If the bear is charges you, DO NOT RUN! Unless a tree is beside you, do not climb a tree, and then don’t do so unless you can climb 30 feet quickly. You cannot outrun or out-climb a black bear. Instead, stand tall, wave your arms and make loud noises—speak in a loud, deep voice.

 What if, instead, I slump, look the bear in the eye, and say in a high squeaky voice “See that tree there? I bet I can climb it faster than you.”

 -STAND YOUR GROUND! Often charging bears veer off within a few feet of their target, veering off in a different direction.

 “Often?”  “Often” isn’t the same as “always.” “Often” leaves room for exceptions,

for bears that are not acquainted with popular wisdom on how they ought to behave.

 —If the bear attacks you, play dead*. Assume the fetal position. If he perceives you as food, continuing to attack, fight back, get angry. Throw your arms up in the air, yell and scream in a deep voice, throw something at it, all showing you are in control. *There is controversial evidence on “playing dead.” Some references say never do this, others say do it and only fight back if the bear attack continues.

 If a bear is attacking me, how am I in any way, “in control?” If there is controversial evidence on playing dead, how can the debate be resolved? I say we hold a scholarly colloquium and present some papers on the subject by people speaking on behalf of the bears.

 If I’d read the website first, I might have skipped the hike. Which would have been too bad, because the aspen forest was beautiful.

 The final piece of advice on the “What to do when confronted by a black bear” website is this —“Never come between a sow and her cubs.”  I include that final piece of advice for those of you who would just naturally do that if you met a black bear in the woods.

They never call you at a good time- when nothing is going on and you welcome the diversion.

When I got called three years ago, I went grudgingly- I had a heavy course load and lots of workshops to prepare for. But then when I got into the big room with all the other citizens, they showed us a video called “The American Juror.” It included a clip from To Kill a Mockingbird. Seeing Gregory Peck play Atticus Finch turned the tide of my attitude from “Why did they have to call me this week of all weeks?” to “I almost hope I get picked!”

They divided us into groups of 25 and sent us to various courtrooms. Three years ago, I was in a jury pool for a alleged gang beating. If you’ve been in a jury pool before, you know the drill. First the prosecuting attorney addresses the prospective jurors, educating us on the law, asking us pointed questions and making notes on those people they want on the jury and those they do not.

During the prosecuting attorney’s time with us,  I had to open my big mouth and say that I wouldn’t hold it against someone who didn’t testify on their own behalf because, as a preaching instructor, I understood how frightened many people are of public speaking. As soon as those words came from my lips, I saw him lift his pen and cross my name off his list. Oh, well. I would have made an excellent juror: unbiased, attentive and fair. But at least now I could get back to the classroom and lesson plan preparation.

When I got my most recent summons a few weeks ago, I had that familiar sinking feeling. “Why this week when I’m getting ready to lead an educational tour of South Africa with 19 students from my school? I need this week to prepare and pack.” But I went. And, as I walked into the big room with all the other citizens, I felt the same surge of  hope that this time, despite the inconvenience to my plans, I might be chosen. Again, I was put in a group of 25 people. We were each assigned a number. We were led to a courtroom by the bailiff. This time it was a DUI case.

Once again, the prosecuting attorney addressed us first, instructing us on the law and asking us pointed questions. She launched into an elaborate “hypothetical,” situation and asking how we would respond.  I guess I let my poker face slip for a moment.  “You look perplexed, #14,” she said.  What are you thinking? “I’m thinking your hypothetical is a little too hypothetical for me. I need more information.” Out came her pen and she scratched off my name.

I figured my goose was cooked but it was time for a brief recess. Not the fun kind.  In 20 minutes we reconvened to be instructed and grilled by the defense attorney.

“All right,” said the young defense attorney. “First of all, do any of you have a problem with standing in judgment over someone on religious grounds?”

My first thought was,

“Heck no! Religious people, including myself,  judge people all the time. This is just a chance to do it in a legally sanctioned context. He then went down the list of all 25 prospective jurors and we all had to say yes or no. Everybody said “No.”

His next question was, “Has anyone ever gotten a ticket?” Not thinking, I raised my hand.  

What for?” he asked.

“Rolling through a stop sign.”

“He looked down at his juror list. “Juror #14, You are Rev Dr. Alyce McKenzie, and you teach preaching at SMU?

I nodded. It was too late to deny it.

“You do realize,” Dr. McKenzie, that you could have killed someone?”

“Yes, but in my defense, I did look to the right as I rolled through it and there was no one coming.”

“That’s not the point,” he chided me.  “You could have killed someone.  How many of you think that Dr. McKenzie should have been sent to jail?”

Thankfully, none of my fellow potential jurors raised their hands.

“Right, so we don’t punish people for crimes that they could have committed but did not. I want you all to be clear on that point with regard to the defendant.”

“Well good for the defendant,”  I thought. “But I just got thrown (or actually threw myself) under the bus.”

I was deselected and released at 1:30pm. Neither side wanted me apparently. It only stung a little.  When I get called again in 3 years, I’ll wear my poker face and  keep my  mouth shut.

I was lamenting my deselection on face book later that day. My nephew Zachary, who is in law school, commented that they never pick professionals like doctors, lawyers, or ministers. They don’t want a juror to whom others will look to for information or insight. They want jurors to look to the lawyers for that. “A medical doctor has superior medical knowledge,” said Zach. “A lawyer has legal knowledge.” And, he said, “A minster is perceived as providing a moral compass for the jury.”

Well that made me feel better. Even ministers who roll through stop signs can be perceived as as moral compasses!

I just spent a week at “House of Hope” in Puerto Lempira, Honduras. House of Hope (Casa Esperanza) is a clinic/school/orphanage that meets the needs of the children of the Mosquito Coast of eastern Honduras. It is sponsored by a ministry called Send Hope. Send Hope was founded about 20 years ago by Dr. Tom Brian, a dentist in Allen, Texas. He started out fixing teeth, and gradually the ministry has expanded to include a school, a milk program for malnourished children, and an orphanage for disabled children. I went to Honduras with Dr. Tom, Laurie Hosack, a registered nurse from First United Methodist Church of Allen, and my 22 year old son Matt McKenzie. We spent the week painting children’s rooms, playing with them and holding them.

It was hot. It was sometimes buggy. We Texas folks who are used to living in our air conditioned ice box houses and offices had to sweat and sweat some more. We ate beans and rice and plantains. The electricity went out several times, always at night. To people used to a level of comfort and convenience, values around which life in suburban North Dallas is built, the week involved a level of physical discomfort. I worked hard not to get fried by the sun or bitten by mosquitoes. I was glad for the Spanish I had learned and determined to know more by the time I returned.

I spent a lot of time holding young children that week. That’s one of the most important roles of volunteers who go to the House of Hope. As I sat in the heat holding one, then two, sometimes three young children at one time, I couldn’t help but think of Paul’s beautiful image for the Church as the Body of Christ. For one thing, La Mosquitia is cut off from the rest of Honduras, with no roads and few natural resources. The rest of the country seems to say to it: you are a part of the body we don’t really need. For another thing, I was aware of a level of discomfort in my own physical being and of the level of the need for affection of the children clambering onto my lap. I felt love for these children and felt surrounded by their need for love.

Says Paul in 1 Corinthians 12:12-13
“For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many are one body, so it is with Christ. For in the one Spirit we were all baptized into one body- Jews or Greeks, slaves or free-and we were all made to drink of one Spirit.”
He continues, “Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it.”(1 Cor 12:27)

What made Paul think of this body metaphor for the divided church at Corinth?
Paul had a splinter or a thorn in his flesh, a persistent affliction that had not let up for 14 years. He doesn’t specify what it is when he talks about it in 2 Corinthians 12:7-10. Scholars have varied theories: migraines, a struggle with depression, pain caused to him by his opponents’ criticism, or a persistent weakness of his eyesight (See Galatians 4:12-15). Whatever the thorn was, maybe he woke up one morning and it hurt worse than usual. And maybe on top of that, his eyes were bleary and his joints ached. And he said to himself, “When one member of the body suffers, the whole body suffers. “ “Why don’t the Corinthians feel that?” Paul must have asked himself. “They’re a body!”
What made Paul think of this body metaphor for the divided church at Corinth? Maybe later that day he decided to escape the heat and crowds of Corinth and went and sat by the pool at the shrine to Asklepios. Asklepios was the god of healing and there was a shrine in his honor in Corinth. If you had an infirmity, you presented him with an offering of honey cakes, and then slept overnight in the shrine. The god would appear to you in a dream and heal the affected body part. Then you would have a terra cotta model of it made and place it on display at the shrine next to the bathing pool. (Williams, 89)
Maybe, as he sat by the pool at Asklepios’ shrine, Paul contemplated the body parts on the wall, replicas of all kinds of body parts supposedly healed by the god: heads, hands, feet, arms, legs, eyes, and ears as well as other body parts not normally displayed this openly. And maybe he thought, “What life do any of the members have unless they are joined together in a living body? Why doesn’t the Corinthian Church get that? They’re isolating themselves from one another, which will surely lead to spiritual death.”
Whatever made Paul think of it, the body is the perfect metaphor for baptismal unity! It’s perfect because in the body no member can say it is more important than any other.

We are all imperfect members, but we all belong to Christ.
And we are all in the process of becoming more like Christ as we go out into the world in his name. “For the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved, it is the power of God.” (1 Cor 1:18; 15:1,2) Becoming more like Christ (being saved) is a process in which we gradually come to feel the sufferings and joys of others as keenly as we do our own. As Paul says, “When one member suffers all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it.” (1 Cor 12:26) The restoration of health to one part of the body is felt throughout the body.
1. As I sat with children in my lap, melded together by our sweat, I remembered that we are all being held by God. I remembered that, when God’s Son came to earth, one of his favorite things to do was embrace the children who came to him for a blessing. I pray for the work of Dr. Tom Brian and Send Hope at Casa Esperanza in Puerto Lempira, Honduras. I give thanks for the ways it ministers to children’s bodies, minds and spirits. Having the privilege of holding, comforting and playing with the children there reminded me that, as Paul knew long ago, “We are the Body of Christ and individually members of it.”

Send Hope

House of Hope

Works Cited:
David J. Williams, Paul’s Metaphors: Their Context and Character (Peabody, Massachusetts: Hendrickson Publishers, 1999).

Anthony C. Thistleton, 1 Corinthians: A Shorter Exegetical and Pastoral Commentary (Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2006).

 
When my children were small they spent part of the day in day care while I served a church and went to graduate school. Whenever I could, I would pick them up early to have more time with them in the afternoon before supper. I would sometimes get stuck in traffic on the way to pick them up from school. I remember experiencing a feeling of rising urgency that almost became panic, as I sat trapped in traffic, yearning for my children. I needed to be with them, to hold, them, to reclaim them, to be sure they were happy, safe and loved. It was almost the kind of urgency that would lead someone to speed, run red lights, pass in no passing zones, and get into the HOV lane though they were alone in their car. It was a near panic attack I controlled by calming my breathing and reminding myself that I was a sensible, self controlled person and that red lights don’t last forever.
I remember one time, I left campus early and was very excited about getting to pick my 18 month old son up by 3:30. I planned to take him to the park and to the library to get some new books and movies. I pulled into the daycare parking lot and walked down the hall to his classroom. There he sat in a high chair, in a row with several other adorable toddlers in their high chairs. It was somebody’s birthday, and each child had a pink frosted cupcake on the tray in front of them. He looked up from his cupcake with an expression that said, “Why are you here interrupting our party?”
My dad has been gone for almost 10 years now. He passed away in November of 2002 at age 76 of liver cancer. He had a surgery, several months of seemingly improved health, then a sudden decline and death. At the time I consoled myself with a couple of thoughts. One was that he was suffering and this was a welcome release. Another was that he had been an active, ambitious man who liked to be in the middle of things. He would not have wanted a kind of old age that involved a lengthy, gradual decline.

I have returned to these two thoughts many times over the past 10 years. Now and then I feel myself guided by his advice, almost as if he were at my side offering it. Now and then I feel him encouraging me to do something or affirming me for something I’ve done.

The other night I was lying in bed reading and thought of my dad. Probably partly because last Sunday was Father’s Day. And a friend’s father had just passed away. I thought about how it has now been almost 10 years since I last saw him. I visualized his face and experienced a jolt of panic- much like the separation anxiety I used to feel when trapped in traffic on the way to the daycare. Along with the moment of panic was a stab of despair because I don’t know when I will meet him again. I was blindsided by this panic, ambushed by it. It was unexpected and unwelcome and all I could do was keep breathing until it passed.
I thought bereavement came with some statute of limitations. No one I know has ever mentioned having such an experience. I don’t think I’ve ever read about it. I was unprepared for bereavement, after 10 years, to have morphed from general sadness to a moment of panic.

It hasn’t come back. I don’t anticipate that it will, but who knows?

Looking back I think my being apart from my children for a few hours several days a week was harder for me than it was for them. Looking ahead, I trust the same is true for my beloved parent.
When there is no flesh and blood person to embrace, I take comfort in a couple of thoughts:

One is that God my loving parent is embracing me as God’s child. The other is that God our loving parent is embracing my parent as well.

“I am so angry with myself!” she went on. “I have gained so much weight lately and my daughter is graduating Saturday. I have to find something that doesn’t make me look like a cow. Can you please help me?”
She had evidently mistaken me for a salesperson. Well, I do like clothes, probably a little bit too much. And I had nothing else to do until 9 am the next morning. So I said, “Sure. I’d be happy to.”

Being a preacher, albeit incognito, I had to give her a little sermon first. “But let’s not be negative about ourselves,” I said. “You have very nice skin tone and lovely blue eyes. Why don’t you try looking in the mirror every morning and saying something positive to yourself about yourself?” Since I had just, 5 minutes before, been berating myself in the mirror in the dressing room across the aisle, I felt the irony (or do I just mean hypocrisy?) of my advice to her. But never mind. I tell my preaching students that they should preach to themselves as they are preaching to others.  That was all I was doing.

I proceeded to spend the next hour bringing her options. We moved away from frothy and frilly. We gave up on big flowers. We said no to horizontal stripes. We rejected entering into relationships with dresses that were too clingy. I brought cardigans, scarves, and pashmina shawls (a term I recently learned just means an extra big scarf you can wear like a blanket and not look like Whistler’s Mother wrapped in her afghan rocking in her chair) and wraps. We discussed the relative merits of sling back shoes versus peep toes. Until finally, searching the sale rack, I found a lovely rose and deep blue dress, colorful but not too loud, lively, but not busy, well cut, flattering to the figure, and….. it came with its own cardigan.

All I found out about her was her first name. All she found out about me was mine. We were completely focused on our fashion mission.
Once I had found her a dress, she was ready to move on. “Thank you so much for your help,” she said, with a polite smile as she gathered up her things to head for the cash register. You would think she might have wondered why I wasn’t the one ringing her up, but was heading toward the door instead. The real clerk winked at me on my way out and gave me thumbs up.

I felt somewhat dismissed, but my work there was done.  I know that this blog recounts something nice I did for someone. And you’re not supposed to tell stories all the time that make you look like a hero or heroine. So I should say that this good deed wasn’t one of cosmic significance. (It did enable one person feeling bad about herself to gain confidence in facing a social situation. And that is something.)

The other thing I should point out is that I really had no business being in the Dillards in the first place. I have more than enough clothes in my closet at home. I was simply there engaging in mindless, self- indulgent, consumerist behavior.  Of course, it I hadn’t been, I wouldn’t have been able to be the fashion angel this woman needed in that moment.

As we all know, life is complex. I walked out of the store toward my car with somewhat of a sense of satisfaction at a job well done. But it was time for me to move on as well. It was time to head to the Cracker Barrel and order my grilled catfish with two sides and a biscuit and, while I waited for it, to browse in the gift shop for a potholder with an inspirational saying on it.