Presby-Musings

I've been wrestling with the idea of impermanence lately, which is to say I've been contemplating the fleeting nature of life, the universe, and everything.  These thoughts often keep me awake at night, and then I have to eat peanut butter toast and re-watch episodes of "The Office" until my brain shuts off enough to let me fall asleep.  There's no easy way to put your head around the idea that most of life is filled with impermanence, that nothing in our reality seems to last forever, and that even we will one day cease to exist.  In the Buddhist tradition, impermanence is outlined this way: "Everything [in our perception of reality] changes, and nothing lasts forever."  We also might say, "All good things must come to an end," which isn't a very hope-filled platitude if you ask me.   To be fair, I've employed that phrase a few times with my kids when they begged me to stay up late or not leave Chuck-E-Cheese after hours of playing gam

Today is Pentecost Sunday, which marks the end of the season of Easter. Today we will be learning about the unexpected way that God launched the Church of Jesus Christ.   There was an unexpectedness about Jesus in the first place.  You can read about the numerous unexpected moments he shared with his disciples throughout the Gospels.  I can't even begin to tell you all of the times that he had to tell them, "Peace be with you," or "Be not afraid," or "It's me, don't freak out!"  That last one was my paraphrase.   Have you ever heard that old aphorism, "If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans?" It does feel like everything goes differently than planned, doesn't it?  There is an unexpectedness to life that can either make you crazy or you can thrive in it.  But either way, nothing prepares us for some of the crazy things that happen in our lives.   Styx was one of my favorite bands when I was a kid.  They had a song entit

Growing up in the fundamentalist Baptist tradition, I learned that there were essentially two kinds of people: those who were "saved" and those who were "lost."  People in the "lost" column were destined for an eternity of laps in a lake of fire.  Those who were saved were destined for an eternity of singing hymns at a neverending worship service.   I wasn't sure which was worse.  The terminology we used back then to describe people who weren't Bible-believing Christians like us is still used today in most mainstream Christianity.  Many Christians still use "lost" to describe people outside their fellowship.   I have a strong, adverse reaction to that term that I have been thinking about lately.  Whenever I hear it, I groan inwardly (and sometimes outwardly) because it pains me to hear Christians say it.   Whether they mean it or not, there's an aspect of "othering" people who might not believe the same things they do that C

In a recent poll conducted by the Barna Group, people were asked how they felt about Jesus and then asked how they felt about Christians who say they follow Jesus .  71% of people polled said they have a favorable view of Jesus and his teachings, with a 40% approval rating from those claiming no faith affiliation.  But when asked about their view on Christianity in our current culture, the favorable rating dropped to 57%, with a 21% rating from those with no faith affiliation driving the overall number down.  In short, most people like Jesus but don't like his followers.   The headline on Barna's article unveiling their research reads like this:  "Openness to Jesus Isn't the Problem--the Church Is." When asked about the main reasons they answered the way they did, people with no faith affiliation revealed that they believed the Church in America is: anti-gay, sexist, too involved in politics, out of touch with reality, hypocritical and judgemental.  I'm sure t

My aunt, my mom's youngest sister, passed away recently after a long and courageous battle with pancreatic cancer.  I was grateful to see her a couple of weeks ago--a visit filled with joy amid the sorrowful reality that she was dying.  We gathered for a meal with as many family members who were able to come, and we laughed, reminisced, and she reveled in it.  One of the most curious and unsettling things about the visit was how much my aunt looked and sounded like my late mother.  The way she talked, laughed, and her mannerisms were so eerily familiar.   I wasn't expecting the flood of emotions that came as I listened to her talk, watched her gestures, and felt all over again the loss of my mom and the realization that I would probably never see my aunt again in this life.  I also felt tremendous regret that I hadn't visited my aunt and talked to her more regularly over the past several years since my mom passed.  I realized that one of the many reasons I hadn't was be

This morning, I spilled ground coffee all over the floor as I sleepily tried to put the container back into the cupboard.  It slipped out of my hands and went flying, spewing coffee everywhere.   Even though I get up early every morning, I'm not a morning person. So those kinds of accidents in the wee hours can feel tragic.   Immediately, my mind went to a dark place, and I asked myself, "Why do I always  do things like this?" and "What is wrong with me?"   I also gave voice to some of those thoughts as my wife was helping me to clean up the mess.  "It's only Folgers," she said to me, which was an excellent point, but also one that didn't keep my self-defeating thoughts from racing.   Afterward, I wondered how quickly those thoughts can become words we say and hear.  And then I wondered what harmful effects those words can have on us over time.   It also brought to mind the following quote from Melody Beattie that I'd written down a few day