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WEEKLY  MEMO from EPUMC

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EDEN   PRAIRIE

 UNITED  METHODIST  CHURCH

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Weekly Memo from Pastor Dan – December 1, 2011

On the Tuesday evening before Thanksgiving, I came home from a meeting so hungry that I didn’t heat up the crispy taco shell filled with taco filling that was out the counter.  I crunched down on that taco like it was a part of my workout for the day.  That was a mistake, because about half way through chewing all the taco stuff I felt something that was too crunchy – even for an unheated crispy taco shell.  You guessed it – it was one of the many crowns in my mouth.  (I went to one dentist this year who said, “You’ve been in a dentist chair a few times in your life, haven’t you?”)

I was grateful to get an appointment with my new dentist the day before Thanksgiving. After about 10 seconds of looking into my mouth, he sat down. I asked, “Well is it good news or bad news,” hoping for the good news that he could reattach the crown.  He looked at me and said, “Well that depends. I’m afraid it’s good news for me and bad news for you. I can’t put the crown back in; you just have a stump of a tooth there and you’ll need a bridge.”  I said, “Thank you,” and made an appointment for an oral surgeon to remove the stump of the tooth that was left.

So here is my story.  The first thing they did at the oral surgeon’s office was to take my blood pressure, which was up a little.  The second thing they did was to ask what I did for a living.  When I told them I was a pastor and where, the assistant said she knew that church.  So I’m lying back in the oral surgeon’s chair with the assistant on one side, the oral surgeon on the other side and about three or four things in my mouth. The assistant – in what I believe was an attempt to calm me down a little – says something like, “You know, I use to go to church there, it was fine, but I had a lot of friends who were in Confirmation at St. Andrews. I wanted to be with them, and my parents agreed to let me attend St. Andrews. So that’s where my parents and I now attend.”  Then the oral surgeon chimes in with, “Yea, since we moved from Bloomington to Eden Prairie, we haven’t changed churches either. Our kids are telling us they don’t want to change so we haven’t; we haven’t even looked around.”

This whole time I am lying back there with three or four things in my mouth – including one of the conversing persons’ hands. The upper left side of my mouth is going numb. I am unable to speak about the one thing I would really like to talk about – which is what a great a place the church on Scenic Heights Road is and especially about the confirmation experience that I am leading this year.  But instead I am thinking, “This is tooooo good not to be true, you really can’t make this stuff up.”

There are a couple things that I’m going to remember…..

·         Sometimes you just have to listen! Like anybody else, my initial reaction to the assistant was a defensive one.  But with so many things in my mouth, all I could do was listen more.  What will it take for us to listen better to the community, to the needs that surround us?

·         This “conversation” also makes me wonder about the real reason folks choose and then stay with a church. For the assistant and the surgeon it really was about relationships. They did not say a word about God or any of the other things that are important to so many of us.

I’m not planning on losing any more crowns in the near future, but I hope that I am learning to listen better.  One of the ways I can hear you is from your response to this “memo.”  I’m really interested today in hearing what keeps you at EPUMC.  Be honest; we can learn a lot by listening to each other.  We can learn things like what is our target audience saying it really wants and how simple vitality can be  –  not to mention be careful of unheated crispy tacos shells. 

Keep the Faith,

Dan

Respond to Pastor Dan at: danb@prairiechurch.org

December Tumbleweed

Weekly Memo from Pastor Dan – December 8, 2011

Just in case you don’t recognize any of these guys – it is most of this year’s Confirmation Class plus me. We were doing our attempt at a human pyramid with Jesus at the top.  He’s in the picture – literally - at the top.  I suppose the point I was trying to make, besides let’s see if we can do this, was that, figuratively, when we reach up for the best of ourselves and others, we will find something of God.

We had been talking about the last phrases of the Lord’s Prayer which include, “For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory…”  “Glory” is a word that we hear a lot this time of the year.  The angels come to the shepherds, and the first thing they say is, “Glory to God in the highest.”  One of the only songs I can actually follow the notes of is the carol which uses this same verse and asks the basses - in Latin no less - to keep up the “glor-or-or-or-or-or-or-ria” for longer than I usually have breath to offer.

I don’t know what you are singing about when you try to get that chorus out, but to me glory has something to do with the memory I have of taking this picture.  As you can tell, most of us are laughing too hard to focus on getting the pyramid up.  Even the groans you see on the bottom row had the tone of a shared trial that bonded those, in this case, holding the (excuse me, ladies) weight.  There were a few folks who at first were, shall we say, less than excited about participating in this experience, but they found ways to be involved.  Even folks not in the picture seemed to be drawn to the experience and were willing it to succeed.   It was “glorious.”

Now I don’t know that any of these 14 and 15 year olds will remember this time for longer than maybe this summer, but I think I will. I think I will because it was not just a way to blow off some steam and take up a few minutes. It was also about something that seemed a little far-fetched and that we were able to do together.  And it’s not so much that we made a perfect pyramid, but that we did what we did together. 

I’m touched by moments like this one, especially at this time of year, because they remind me of other Confirmation classes, other pyramids and other 14 and 15 year olds who now are close to 20 or 30 or, dare I say it, 40 year olds.  They all had similar expressions on their faces which, as I remember them, are saying, “I don’t know why I’m doing this but it’s a Blast!”  Or “I’ll never forgive Pastor Dan for asking us to do this, but I’m sure glad he did.” 

Glory is, I think, like that on the inside.  When the angels start talking to the shepherds with the word, “glory…,” I think it is something of a wake-up call.  The angels don’t ask the shepherds to see a different life but to see their lives differently, more fully, gloriously.  Sometimes that is a hard thing to do, especially if you’ve had some hard things in your life, but sometimes it’s a blast.  The message of the glory of God coming to be with us is that all of it is connected somehow to the truest and deepest part of ourselves.  The birth of Jesus is not about all of life working out, but that all of life or at least a part of life can become glorious as we find a way to see within ourselves what God has created us to become. 

It was very interesting at the end of our attempt at pyramid building.  It was getting late, but a lot of folks wanted to try again.  With some folks not there, and the 50 something year-olds back’s already hurting, I promised we would try again at the Confirmation retreat.  I can’t wait to try it again.  Maybe we’ll photo shop the picture of Jesus in there, or better yet, the last person up will have to hold it, or maybe we’ll have them in costume as Jesus.  Man – are we going to have a good time, I mean glorious time, with this next pyramid.  I promise another picture in May. Here is hoping that you have a glorious time during this holiday season.

 Keep the Faith,

Dan

Respond to Pastor Dan at: danb@prairiechurch.org

December Tumbleweed

Weekly Memo from Pastor Dan – December 15, 2011

About a month ago this gentleman and his wife came by the office to visit with me.  Dick, which isn’t his real name, and Jane, his wife, whose name here – as you can guess – isn’t her real one either, are both very real people.  You know, there are some people who are just plain interesting, and, for me, Dick is one of these.  He has a manner that sort of draws me into a conversation and engages me at a level that gives me more energy than I am investing.

Dick, who does not come to church, came into my office to talk with me about his death.  He has cancer, and although a month ago he thought he had about a year – last Friday, I got a call telling me he had gone from the hospital to hospice care.  I went to see Dick this week.  It was early evening and already very dark as I came out of the building.  It had been one of those visits that as a pastor, or anybody really, you feel privileged to be a part of.  It was a visit where we talked about how hard it is to die, the process of letting go bit by little bit and how on earth you prepare to leave it. 

Dick is very courageous as he faces his death. He speaks openly and honestly about his fear his anger, his life.  I walked out of that hospice into the dark touched in a way that is hard to describe, but it does have something to do with the reason that a lot of us come to church or struggle with the mystery of faith or reach out in love to life. 

As I pushed the remote that beeps and opens my car door, I sort of came out of my mediation and noticed that the buildings surrounding the hospice were all covered in Christmas lights. The hospice, however, was dark.  Now, the hospice had been decorated tastefully.  When I came in, I had even seen somebody dressed up as Santa Claus in the stairway.  (There is a statement of love or faith in “Santa in the stairway of a hospice”).  My first thought was maybe it was a good thing that Dick couldn’t see these lights from his window.  I mean, would you want to be dying at this time of year, wondering with your family if you will make it to Christmas? I was thinking about this, sort of staring at the lights on one building and the lack of lights on the other, when it struck me; people ill and dying, people finding out about things, relationships facing challenging times and all the rest of life which so many try to put on hold at this time of year, are all a part of the season. 

Passing a Santa in a hospice on the way to visit an interesting, engaging, dying man helped me to recognize that a lot of what I am drawn to in what we call the “Holidays” is not so much about what I’m going to be getting or giving for Christmas, or the prospect of some more relaxed days, or even taking a little break from watching what I eat and enjoying a spritz cookie (they are really my favorite) or two.  These days, for me, are more about that feeling I had before I saw the lights. Maybe it was the lights that helped me to remember that when at this time of year any of us struggle with the mystery of faith, we are guided a bit on this journey of life by the light of what Matthew placed in the night sky and called a star. In this life when we extend ourselves out in love, we recognize a presence. We are greeted by what Luke placed in a manger and called a new born child reaching out to embrace our longing. 

I hope the lights of this season help guide Dick a little in this last season of his life.  I hope the longing I hear in his voice is comforted with an embrace so mysterious and yet so real that the promise of Christmas, the promise of Immanuel, “God with Us,” carries him over to whatever awaits him. 

I hope the same for all of us.  May the light of this season guide you in your challenges, may the promise of “God with us,” give you solace, courage and hope.

Keep the Faith,

Dan

Respond to Pastor Dan at: danb@prairiechurch.org

Weekly Memo from Pastor Dan – December 22, 2011

I had something of a Christmas-in-reverse experience this week.  Tuesday just seems to be my full day.  Before I went to visit several persons of our congregation who were ill, I needed to stop for some gas. Katie and I just joined Costco, so I was having the experience of waiting in line for the great price. I surprised myself with how patient I was while waiting in the car. I made a few phone calls, did a little people watching and decided it wasn’t that long of a wait. Then when my turn came, I began filling up. With about half way to go, the pump just stopped.  When I asked the attendant why, he said “It just does that, we can’t fix it.” I said, “What do we do now?” He said, “Start over.”  I looked at the face of the less than patient guy in line behind me and told the attendant, “I’ve got enough to get me where I’m going.”  As I jumped in the car, I began to think it was going to be another one of those days. I heard the tail end of the attendant’s comment –  something about how he appreciated my attitude in this holiday season.

At the very end of the day I went to the gym.  I usually workout late in the afternoon, but like I said, Tuesdays can be full days.  I had a great workout.  When I got back to my locker, I couldn’t find my dress shoes.  Sometimes – like a lot of others – I save room (to say nothing of the odor) in my locker by leaving my shoes underneath a bench.  I looked all over the locker room.  Had somebody kicked them around?  Did somebody on the swim team decide it would be funny to hide them in one of the open lockers? I looked in all of them. I asked around; I asked at the desk.  Finally I was forced to the unpleasant conclusion that somebody had taken my shoes. Instead of having something nice happen, something happened to me that was, as the guy in the next locker described, “just wrong.”  Instead of a being given something for Christmas, something was taken. 

Now I don’t know if it was the Christmas spirit, if I was just too tired, if it was the idea that I had my gym shoes to walk home in or if it was that these were not my best pair of shoes, but I didn’t get upset.  When I turned to the attendant at the desk and said, “I guess someone took my shoes,” I added, “I hope they enjoy them as much as I have.”  She laughed and said something about my attitude, much like the comment made by the attendant at Costco. This attitude is what I’ve been thinking about today.

There are times in all of our lives when we have something of a right to have one kind of attitude over another.  When the gas pump goes out on you, or somebody cuts in front of you at the mall, or (for cryin’ out loud) somebody takes yours shoes at the gym – we can feel entitled to be less than gracious.  I certainly take that attitude much of the time.  I experienced not going to my usual state of “upsettedness” as something of a gift. Maybe one of the things Christmas is about is experiencing a grace that we aspire towards. 

Aspiring towards a gracious life describes that sense of what is holy and true for me, as I think about standing with a candle in the twilight of Christmas Eve. I’m not really sure how I get that from, “somebody took my shoes,” but I do.  Maybe it has something to do with the “everydayness” of the birth of Jesus.  The idea that what is holy, true and gracious is to be found in the most common places. This is the message of the story of the birth of Jesus. This “everydayness” frames, or is the context for, Jesus’ life, his teachings and his sacrifice.

My prayer is that you and all whom you love will experience something of what is holy, true and gracious this Christmas. Have a Merry and Blessed Christmas.

P.S.  Deb gave me some lamb ears to try on for the 4 o’clock Christmas Eve service.  I’m not sure how they are going to look with the robe and stole and candle but I’ll give anything a try once.  Besides I prefer this picture over the one of the centurion from Bible School as an illustration of servant leadership.  “Baaaa” for now!  Hope to see you at either 4 or 10 p.m. on Christmas Eve.

  Keep the Faith,

Dan

Respond to Pastor Dan at: danb@prairiechurch.org

December Tumbleweed

Weekly Memo from Pastor Dan – December 29, 2011

One last Christmas story before I don’t have a chance to tell it. At the 4:00 o’clock Christmas Eve Service we were fortunate to have a family be the “Holy Family.”  They were the same “holy family” as two years ago, except that this year we had a different baby Jesus. After Mary and Joseph and the new baby Jesus had taken their places and before the second reading, there was a delightful little shriek that pieced through the silence. “DADDY!”  It was the former baby Jesus who had noticed mom and dad by the manger and wondered why he was sitting with his auntie on Christmas Eve.

The little former baby Jesus did what I would expect any little former baby Jesus would have done upon seeing his daddy. He left his auntie’s lap and made a beeline for papa.  It was only after he arrived at the manger, which was under the spotlight in the middle of our chancel, that he realized that this was not quite what he, or the “holy family” or any of the rest of us had anticipated.

However, by the time it came for my mediation, the little former baby Jesus had become quite comfortable exploring, in a rather innocent or maybe just oblivious to the rest of us fashion, his new surroundings.  Our “holy family” did a great job providing an example of how we as parents can be holy even when something other than heaven was breaking out inside of us.  They were gentle and understanding with their son and also very wise to allow him to explore lest he announce his displeasure.

It was at this time – as the former baby Jesus was walking in front of the pulpit and dad, I mean Joseph, who was caught between, shall we say, competing agendas – that I decided to let go of my written mediation and fetch him. I walked out and extended my arms as an invitation. Amazingly the former baby Jesus, who was a little heavier than I remember kids this age, let me pick him up. I did this in midsentence which was a mistake because whatever line was supposed to come next completely escaped me as the former baby Jesus stared into my eyes trying to decide if he had made a good choice by allowing me to hold him. 

I introduced him as perhaps Jesus’ little cousin. (After the service someone gave me the best line, “He could have been John the Baptist,” which is literally correct, but what little boy needs that put on him?)  As I stood there looking into the eyes of the former baby Jesus, I thought to myself, “This meditation is over.”  But what I really thought is that this is the best word any of us could have hoped for, especially on Christmas Eve.

You see, if this time of year carries any special message, it is that there is nothing that God would not do to come and sit with us, to understand us, to be with us.   I don’t know if the former baby Jesus knew it then, but I hope someday he understands that what he did that night by calling out “Daddy,” and running up to be with the rest of his family, is precisely the image the gospel writers were trying to impart.  The former baby Jesus being picked up or caught up in the experience of this night is a picture of the response that the gospel writers invite.

God invites us to leave the comfort of our seat, or our auntie’s lap or our familiar attitudes and actions and shriek with delight whenever it is we recognize what is sacred, holy, needed, or “of God,” in our lives.  We don’t need to hold back, it is as natural as a former baby Jesus coming to stand with his mom and dad and sister. 

An image I have of the church is one in which that same former baby Jesus allows us to pick him up and for a few moments hold onto him and stare into his eyes as we discover the joy of being that close to him offers our lives.  I’ll tell you this much, I saw something – don’t ask me exactly what, but something – in the former baby Jesus’ eyes that night that keeps me coming back to church and wanting to be a part of this community of faith and trying to keep the faith.

With thanks to Jamie, Lauren, baby Eleanor, and the former baby Jesus, Rys Witheridge.

Keep the Faith,

Dan

Respond to Pastor Dan at: danb@prairiechurch.org

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