Jumping In

The sky was blue, but the water was cold. Clinging to the final days of summer before the autumn breeze whispered to the leaves it was time to change color, I stared out at the lake wanting to join the others who were swimming and diving away. I dipped my toes in hoping that would do the trick, but the rest of my body cried out to stay where I was . I tried to walk in one step at a time, but the progression of chill sent me scampering back to shore. Eventually, I knew there was only one way to get in and that was to walk to the edge of the dock and jump. It was excruciating and I gasped, but I was finally in the water and able to join the others.

That’s what it’s like when we have to face fear. Fear wears many costumes, but its effect is singular and universal. It causes us to stand on the shore shaking, paralyzed and unable to join the others who are living happy, joyous, and free lives. Watching them can lead us to the edge. Wanting what they have can cause us to dip our toes in the cold or take a step or two, but fear will often pull us back to the shore where we can stay dry. 

We may be dry, but we’re alone.  As difficult as it is to walk to the end of the dock, as convincing as fear’s arguments may be, it’s best to just jump. Yes, it’s shocking and can cause us to gasp, but once we are in the water, we can join the others and live the lives God intends.

Would you care to dance?

When I was young, I went to dancing school. It was an awkward time each Tuesday afternoon, but my friends and I endured it together. The most uncomfortable moment wasn’t the dancing, it was getting out of my chair and walking over to a girl and asking her to dance. Remembering it all these years later still makes my palms sweat. Who should I ask? How should I ask? What if she refuses?

I’m not sure God gets nervous, but I do think God is continuously asking us to dance. He gets up, comes to each of us, and extends his hand as if to invite us onto the dancefloor. Each sunrise or sunset is a request. Each inspirational song, passage in a book, or poem is a request. Each inner stirring to do or say something to someone in need is a request. I even think each hardship is a request.

Although the requests come in countless ways, the question is, will we extend our hand and accept God’s invitation to dance? When I see children painting rainbows and colorful landscapes, I see that as a “yes.” When I see people awakening to serve meals at the local soup kitchen, I see that as a “yes.” When I see someone transforming into a new creation before my eyes, I know they’ve said Yes.”

This morning I awaken sitting eagerly in my chair hoping God will draw near and ask me to dance. More than that, I hope I say “yes.”

Searching for a Minister

They announced the name of our new minister at Church, this afternoon. It was the culmination of a two-years search which involved many parish meetings to discern the kind of minister we are looking for, and countless hours of work by the search committee. They combed through resumes, held initial interviews, and met with finalists before reaching a decision. They read candidates’ writings, heard their sermons, and talked to people who knew them well. In the end, they found someone, which is a miracle in and of itself.

My experience is that there are as many opinions about what makes a good minister as there are parishioners. Some people carry wounds from their childhood that shape the kind of minister they’d like, and some want to find someone like the minister they had growing up. Some want someone with an engaging personality, while others want a contemplative soul. Many expect a minister with strong pastoral care skills and a sweet bedside manner while also wanting an administrator capable of making tough decisions. Given that most parishes want someone who can walk on water while delivering the sermon on the mount, turn water into wine while feeding 5 thousand, it’s a wonder parishes find anyone to call as their minister.

It’s a good thing Jesus never had to live up to such expectations. Oh wait, yes, he did. That’s why they killed him.

Afterthought:

Although too simplistic, the search could have come down to three questions: Do you know Jesus Christ? Do you follow him? And can you help us do the same?