Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Abbey Tsumas: 2 Years Later


        In the Jewish faith, when our Jewish brothers and sisters visit a grave, the custom is to place a small stone on the grave. This shows that someone visited the gravesite and that the deceased has not been forgotten.   
            I remember when I was a young child my grandmother would take me to play in Oakwood cemetery, we’d play on the tree we affectionately knew as Moses, because of its age and size. As I grew I stopped playing in the cemetery. I looked back on those days, and marveled at the fact that I played in the cemetery, a place where I would later come to bury my uncle, and a place where I would come to assist in many graveside services. I remember those days, but deep, deep down; there is an absence, for now I longer play in cemeteries. I know that for now, I mourn in those places.
            My mind often around these shorter days turns to death. Two years ago, around this time I lost a friend. I remember where I was, what I was doing when I received the call that my friend Abbey had died. I remember the gathering, the crying, and the pain. We all just wanted to rewind, to relive, and to never have to face death. We all have had experiences like these when we would give anything just for more time.
Abbey and the gang at Band Banquet
            God in infinite wisdom sent us examples, game-changers, people who expose the love affair God has with humanity. I am reminded of the words of the prophet Isaiah, “The people who walked in darkness
have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness, on them light has shined.” For many of my friends and myself, we look back on the life that was lived when we remember Abbey Tsumas as a person who shined light on things. We remember that she has not been forgotten. 
            There is a creative writing professor at Appalachian by the name of Joseph Bathanti, he tells the story of his friend who was in the business of restoring icons and sacred art. In his wonderful poem Bathanti describes the brokenness of a statue that his friend was rebuilding. I would propose to you, that right now God is in the business of restoring sacred art. God is at work in the very lives of broken people like you and me. God knows the hurt we feel when we are at a loss. God is ever present, ever ready to provide comfort and peace to those in need. It may not always be evident, but it is there, in our very midst.
            I challenge you this week to adopt a tradition of remembrance, maybe that’s looking through an old photo album, maybe that’s paying a visit to a family member who has lost someone close. Maybe, just maybe that’s laying a stone on the grave of a loved one. For one day, we all will be laughing at death in our resurrection, we will giggle at tombstones and share stories around the graves. We will run, we will laugh, and yes we will shout for joy when we see people like Abbey again. We once again will be playing in the cemeteries.    

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

The Wedding at Cana


            I love a good wedding. In fact, this Saturday, I will be attending one of my good friend’s nuptials. We all have been to a wedding; we’ve all enjoyed seeing happiness. This reminded me of a story we often hear of Jesus beginning his earthly ministry with none other than, a wedding.
            I must admit, when it comes to big crowds I can be somewhat of an introvert. Now don’t get me wrong I can put on my extrovert hat and ‘work the crowd’ just as well as anyone else, but I feel sometimes like Jesus did, hesitant to make a scene when it’s easier to sit by the punch bowl and talk with your close friends. As Jesus said, “My hour has not yet come” But there is something very interesting about this text, something profound that we often miss when gleaming through the New Testament.
            Interestingly enough it is suggested that most of the water in the time of Jesus’ life and teachings was not fit to drink. They didn’t know what we know about purification. Christ, the one we call Lord took unclean, undrinkable water and made it into wine, what the Jews considered to be fit for drinking. How marvelous! Jesus took something dirty and made something beautiful! How often do we sit on the sidelines and expect transformation? How often do we just wait for God to send a sign? God is in our midst, working, now! God is in the business of taking something ordinary, like dirty water, and making it extraordinary, like the good wine.
            Dr. Samuel Wells, the Dean of Duke Chapel puts it this way, “The best advice I can offer is that it's not love that teaches you what marriage means - it's marriage that teaches you what love means.” We are constantly learning, constantly transforming, that is the beauty of the Wedding at Cana. Jesus came out of his shell in the sense that he found the transforming power of ministry. We too must be willing not to wait for our hour to come, but to bring that hour about!
            The next time you’re at a wedding, look at the transformative power of what is happening. Two beings, are becoming one. It is truly marvelous and appropriate that Jesus would start his ministry at a wedding. God invites us, if we are willing to become one with our Maker. God invites us to transform our lives and the lives of others into ‘good wine.’
            I really am looking forward to my friends wedding, and I wish them all the best for a happy future. There is something to be said to be willing to commit your life to someone else. I certainly don’t claim to be the foremost scholar or experienced practitioner of marriage, but what I do know is this: God, like a groom is waiting at the end of the aisle, are you willing to walk towards the beauty and splendor of a future in God’s kingdom? That, my friends, is a wedding we can all look forward to.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Thoughts On Street Preaching

I was deeply bothered today by the preaching of Gary Birdsong on the campus of Appalachian State University. I was touched, and not in a good way by his passionate fundamentalist message of hatred and condemnation.  An article about this man describes his ‘conversion experience’ “Birdsong professes to be an ex-Hells Angel, citing that fact multiple times when he is preaching of forgiveness. He claims that his "calling" came to him in the middle of 40 Hells Angels in Durham County in North Carolina.”
            It made sense to me to stand there and try to reason with this man, using my religion major and my theological upbringing to combat any means of condemnation he threw my way. For more than an hour and a half I stood there, calmly reassuring him that I knew in some ways what God is, and that I believed that love would conquer hate in the end. I was screamed at plenty of times by Gary, claiming that I was heading straight for the fiery depths of Hell, as he clutched his King James Version of the Bible in his hand, I wondered, was I losing my religion?
            I don’t claim to have lost spirituality, or my belief in a deity that created me, but let me be clear. I want nothing to do with a religion that chooses hatred instead of love. It seems to me that Gary is becoming more of a common occurrence amongst the faithful, the “do what I say or I’ll hurt you.” I even at one point asked Gary if he would pray for me, as I certainly would for him. He refused offering hell as a consolation prize.
            Lately I’ve been studying the work of Joseph Campbell. The great mythologist offers these words about the myth of religion: “Every religion is true one way or another. It is true when understood metaphorically. But when it gets stuck in its own metaphors, interpreting them as facts, then you are in trouble.”
            As I explored that quote today, I realized the truth in Mr. Birdsong’s religion. He has such passion; such hope that people will see his point of view. He gets stuck in his facts by claiming that Hell is something to be terrified of or begging us to live our lives in fear of that Hell. Let me be clear, the God of love, regardless of what any text written by man says, is far beyond any form of eternal hell. What kind of god would claim to love her creation then cast more than half of it into eternal damnation? What kind of god would claim to have sent his son for humanity but deny humanity the benefits of such? I posed these questions to Mr. Birdsong today, and I got the answer not to question the authority and inerrancy of the Bible.
            It was interesting the conversations I had with friends after this ordeal with Gary. We began thinking what questions mean to us, how important they are to our lives. We thought of how we are sojourners through this religious experience and must cherish every little question we have.
            I continue to ask these questions, not because I am trying to rebel in college and be ‘that guy’ no I ask these questions because I think they deserve answers. Why do we fight the fight if the fight isn’t worth fighting for? I question everything to be honest, there is a certain sacredness to those questions we have. I remember my grandmother when I was little would tell me if I had a question about God that I couldn’t find the answer to that I should put it up on my shelf and come back to it later.
            So I do, I put those questions about hell and God and love up on the shelf until I will be able to fully answer them. It may very well take a lifetime of searching to find these answers, but I’m willing to wait. A holy impatience as I sit here, and press on with life.