A Year of Being Away

I just wept my way through that bright and clear voice of the young soloist who begins the Lessons and Carols from King's College Chapel in Cambridge, England. It always grabs me. I always wait within a wonderful aura of anticipation to hear the first note and then, to smile at how those young boys are able to bring into the day a brightness that I count on every year. It could be that the anticipation amplifies those first notes. I could be that I have arrived at a place I have never been - one year of being away from church - one year without all the seasonal work that makes each of the seasons of the liturgical year a reminder of whose I am.

This week as I was talking to one of my Uber customers she asked how long I have been driving. I told her on and off for about a year - ever since I retired. She asked what kind of work I did. I told her I was a Lutheran pastor for thirty-seven years. She immediately said, I didn't know pastors ever retired. I said - yes we do. She followed with - not in my church.

For one year, my status has been changed. At first, when I went to meetings or rallies or inter-religious action groups, and even social events, it seemed like I still fit in - like I was still a part of it all. As time has moved along, I now see myself standing more and more on the outside of that group of religious leaders. I have no home - no place I serve as a leader - no place in which I am, by my role and title, a necessary aspect of the full frontal of a congregation. Lately, when I introduce myself at those meetings, I leave off the reference to Redeemer and my position. I am retired - I am now involved because I am involved - I am now an activist simply because that is what I do. I am retired from a position and now available to be a part of the witness of the followers of Jesus in a whole new way. It is quite different and at times I find it difficult.

But when that young boy started to sing, I was reminded again of the timeless chain of people who have been touched by a story of unbending and unending love that not only touches us - it shapes us so that our touch will be filled with the same good news that is relentlessly offered up for the well-being of all God's beloved - which by the way is all of humanity with no exception.

I have found that in a year of being away is bringing me closer to the story that is meant to be my story. It has led me away from any notion of a 'holy land' or a 'holy city' or a 'chosen people' who claim something but unfortunately their holiness is rarely offered up for the well-being of the other - the outsider - them and those. I have found that the moment at hand like - the hand extended - the hand often too shy to reach out - the hand that holds no power or influence - is vital to understanding and taking part in the healing of a self-centered world.

During this year of being away, time has been filled with the flurry of political advertisements that have become a trademark of our society. Without going there, I have come to see that the church is just as vested in its just such advertisement. Branding, for example, is the way to build ones influence, gain a bigger piece of the marketplace, sell oneself or one's church as the best, and thus, the place and people a person should consider adding to their life. Branding is an art form - and it appears to work. I love words but find that words too often instigate nothing more than emotion - sentimentality - none of that is necessarily negative. My tears over the hymn sung by that young choirboy rattled a whole bag of emotions I could not even begin to attach to exact memories - positive or negative. But being away is teaching me to press those words and extract from them a visible, present, meaning that leaves me as a witness to the peaceable Reign of God - just by being me - the beloved - in this place and time in which I find myself.

The only branding involved with the Messiah of God was - a touch of reassurance when a life was unstable - a word of acceptance when a life was facing only rejection - a step over a boundary line when a life was being pushed out and away - a reminder of one's place within God's eternal embrace when  a life is being put out to dry - a stand for new life when a life was labeled unforgivable - a journey into death's dark brutality when a life was being marked as useless and disposable.  We actually live this life - it is the life we each have in hand -  one that needs to hear that the life that comes in the  shape of the Messiah of God - is our life. I know it sounds like nothing more than they will know us by our love. That is correct. Yet, that love is what gives voice and substance to the hymn of praise and celebration and hope that is born again among us - like a thrilling voice raised up in a worldwide liturgy - like a gesture to others that assures them that they need not fear the powers of the day - for the Messiah of God is with us - as us - through all and in all things.

This year of being away will continue to be unwrapped like a babe in a manger - full of that which is yet to unfold to reveal the face of God - the character of the truly human one - the beloved-ness of the ones usually cast as our enemies. Just now I thought that maybe - just maybe - being away is helping me to be a bit closer to you - all of you.
TRRR