Give Thanks?....For what? 2010 stunk!

 *Note - the following talk was delivered to the people of The Community Church of Lake Forest/Lake Bluff on Dec. 26, 2010. This is the community I wrote about in the 6th chapter of my latest book, The Way of Jesus: Re-Forming Spiritual Community in a Post-Church Age. It was one of the most difficult sermons I've ever delivered. It was extremely humbling and at several points I burst into tears. But I wouldn't trade the chance to say these things to these amazing people for anything. I hope these words mean something to you as well...

2010 was one tough year, a forgettable year that most of us will probably never forget. The reasons it was tough for me are many. For one thing, I made less money in 2010 than I have ever made in my entire adult life. That’s 25 years – although some who know me might want to debate that I’ve actually been an adult that long. Second, I had to go from seeing my one and only daughter from 100% of the time to only 45%. I also lost not only my health insurance, but even the ability to afford any sort of replacement policy. And to top it all off, it was less than 10 days after losing my insurance that I took this idiotic, inexplicable fall, resulting in an emergency room visit, three different casts, two specialists, surgery, and all the other glorious things that come with it.

I’m sure you have your own stories of what made your 2010 one of the toughest years ever.

And yet what I’d most like to talk with all of you about today, believe it or not, is giving thanks…being grateful. Why? Why in the world, in the midst of all the cruddy circumstances of 2010 would I or anyone want to talk about giving thanks?

YOU! It’s because of you, the people of The Community Church of Lake Forest and Lake Bluff that I have to stand before you today to talk about giving thanks. I told you most of the story about my year, my fall, and how the loss of insurance complicated things. As sure as death and taxes,  within a few weeks of the surgery, the medical bills started rolling in. But the part I didn’t tell you was that I started getting something else in my mail on a regular basis…cards from people I didn’t even know with Lake Bluff and Lake Forest return addresses…with checks inside. These checks would eventually total more than $3500! That paid for more than half of my medical bills with enough left over for me to purchase a catastrophic health plan that will actually help with most of the remaining balance. So if you want to know why a guy who has been through what I have this year would want to talk about giving thanks, you folks will have to look in the mirror. It is what YOU all did that allows me to stand here – STAND here without crutches – full of overwhelming gratitude. Thank you.

The second reason I need to talk with you today about being thankful is that as a follower of Jesus, I am called to give thanks. Our passage for the morning, I Thessalonians 5:16-18 says this: “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” Followers of Jesus are called to give thanks not FOR all circumstances but IN all circumstances. Sometimes, such as in years like 2010, that requires a little digging, digging under the surface crap that assaults us until we find who or what it is that is pulling us through our tough times. Giving thanks is a spiritual discipline for the Christ follower, a practice, a muscle that we’ve got to use or it will atrophy and stop working altogether. I have instituted a version of this spiritual practice that I call “gratitude walks,” where I simply take a walk in which I list everything in my life for which I am grateful. My prayer life has struggled this tough year; my scripture reading has been up and down; my worship practice has floundered; but my gratitude exercises have remained strong.

It’s important to note here that I have NOT been a grateful, thankful person my whole life. Most those who have known me for any length of time would tell you that I’ve spent much of my life being the opposite of a grateful person. But in the last few years in general and this last year in particular – and largely thanks to all of YOU – I have a genuine and pervasive attitude of gratitude. I have learned that there are ALWAYS people and things to be thankful for, even and especially in times of darkness. There are always hands that uphold us, shoulders that sustain us, and the prayers and actions of faithful friends that undergird us. For me, YOU have been those hands, those shoulders, those prayers and actions, and so I say again – Thank you!

While I was driving down here from Northern Michigan yesterday, I was listening to an old Dave Matthews Band disc. There’s a song of his called “Jimi Thing” that includes this line: “If you could keep me floating just for awhile, till I get to the end of this tunnel…” And it began to occur to me that maybe that is what we’re all here for. Maybe THAT is what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown! To keep one another afloat…just for awhile, till we get to the end of this tunnel. Maybe that is precisely what we’re here for – to invest in people rather than in things – to help those people who are struggling just to stay afloat, to keep them afloat long enough for them to get through life’s tunnels.

I’m here to talk about giving thanks because that is exactly what you, the people of the Community Church have done for me in 2010. But let’s remember, you’ve also been doing the very same thing for hundreds of Ughandan children and for countless people right here in your own community. And we both know that even right here in beautiful, well manicured Lake Forest and Lake Bluff there are plenty of people who are struggling to stay afloat. Thank God you have been there for them, keeping them floating for awhile.

But do you know what the best part of what you’ve done for me in 2010 is…? It’s that as I emerge from my tunnel and get to the point where I can swim on my own again, I can’t wait to throw my life preserver to someone else who needs help floating, just for awhile. That is what 2011 needs to be about and will be about for me – being grateful enough and aware  enough to see and reach out to someone else, empowered by the 2010 experience you have given me.

I think it was St. Augustine who said, “If the only prayer we ever uttered was the two words ‘Thank you,’ it would be enough.” It would be enough. Ok, so maybe 2010 wasn’t the greatest year of my life or of yours. But that is no reason not to be thankful. Thankful for what…?  Well, who saw you through 2010?…Who stayed by your side?…Who kept believing in you?…Who didn’t lay you off or let you go?…Who invested in you?…What did you learn from 2010?

So, my brothers and sisters in my home away from home church, “Seek to do good to one another and to all…rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in ALL circumstances, for this is God’s will in Christ Jesus for you.

Amen…and Thank you!

My Christmas List...

This year, having fallen further than ever before (see previous blog entry "Humbled by a Fall"), what I most "want" for Christmas is simply to thank the people who have deigned and dared to reach a hand downward to help me rise up. I offer my deepest thanks to these angels in no particular order...

The folks of The Lake Forest/Lake Bluff Community Church...who collectively sent me over $3500 to help pay for my medical bills on the heels of my accident, when I was uninsured - Thank You!

Pete and Judy Petro...who are the truest friends I could ever have. You managed to draw closer amidst my divorce rather than giving into the awkwardness that comes when a couple you care about splits up. You have been genuinely good to Molly and to me, taking no sides, refraining from judgment, loving as Christ loves - Thank You!

Dad...who gave me the greatest, most unexpected gift ever by getting and staying sober at age 78 against all odds. The summer of 2010 staying in the cottage together without the shackles of alcohol has healed me in the deepest places - Thank You!

Mark and Nancy Rondel...who gave me a refuge in the flower shop that was so much more than a place to stay. Being your neighbors gave Weezie and I a sense of family, a sense of belonging, a sense of home - Thank You!

Dick and Julie Collie...who hired me when I most needed work, invited me when I most needed companionship and an amazing meal, and visited me when I least expected it - Thank You!

Aunt Linda Matthews...who reached out to me when other family members freaked and fled. You listened to me with understanding and acceptance, believing in me when I couldn't believe in myself - Thank You!

Dr. Brian Lehky...the greatest therapist I've ever had. With you I've always been able to count on no nonsense and no tolerance of my self-flagellation. You have given me the ability to distinguish between the tapes that need to be silenced and the one that needs to be listened to - Thank You!

Ric and Lisa Loyd...who have served me without asking anything in return. From helping me move to loaning me a car, and from giving me a job to doing my laundry, you have taught me what genuine service to others looks and feels like - Thank You!

Tamara and Louise...who gave Eloise a haven, a sense of belonging in a busy office that always had time for her - Thank You!

Randy Evans...who helped me prepare to hunt on one leg, salted and shoveled my precarious stairs so that I wouldn't fall again, and offered me a quality of friendship and brotherhood that I plan to emulate - Thank You!

Tom Dickelman...who gave me the courage to take the plunge of leaving the institutional church and has shown me how to give when someone is down without the slightest trace of condescension - Thank You! 

The Men of the Tuesday morning Men's Bible Study...who have prayed for me without ceasing in the last 18 months. I covet your prayers, my brothers - Thank You!

The Living Vision Community...who has given me the gift of spiritual community and the sense that my vision really can come true - Thank You!

Lindy Bishop...who splashed down into this world a mere 17 days before I did but then managed to live the better part of 49 years without the slightest knowledge of my existence, while I was equally oblivious to hers. And yet we find ourselves in gifted companionship, old friends reunited for an encore of a play we've never performed - Thank You!

Jim Kopka...who has always understood, always listened, always been there, and knows the value of humility - Thank You!

Eloise Anna Jones...who has completely re-organized my priorities, my activities, and my heart - Thank You!

And to the rest of you angels out there too numerous to name, I am in your debt - Thank You!

Now what remains is for me, having been so lifted up, to turn my attention to lifting up others in the very same ways that all of you have so graciously lifted me. My path from here is clear. With my crutches laid aside and my cast finally off, I rise to "go and do likewise," gratefully...Amen

Humbled by a Fall

I've never been much of a poet. But occasionally I turn to verse in attempt to express the inexpressible. What follows was born out of a lot of pain...most directly the pain from an actual fall I took on Oct. 7 of this fall, resulting in a shattered ankle socket and a broken fibula...indirectly the pain that followed from surgery, 8 weeks in three different casts, crutches on icy stairs, and, of course, the pain $$$ of being without health insurance through it all...
    Less directly still, this poem grows out of two years of falling...falling out of a marriage and family, falling out of a church, falling out of the kind of person I thought I was but really wasn't....just falling. But from all the falling comes a deeply forged humility, a humility that instructs...a humility that undresses only to redress in much finer robes. Humbled by all these falls, I can never be the same...and I trust that, in the end, that will be a good thing. I offer my fall to you in these words with all humility...

Humbled by a fall

    I

  Took

I cast my vision high

From broken pose, my back a’ground

 The stars no longer

    nigh

Humbled by a fall

    I

   Took

 Things once in feigned control

  Spun out

    Away

      And gone

Disdaining Arrogance’ hold

Humbled by a fall

   I

   Took

I wondered,

   Gaped

     And bled

The bastard child

     of Certainty

       now out

     Behind the shed

Humbled by a fall

    I

     Took

A silence

    settles

       in…

Where once

   my words

More harm than good

    In creedal cradle

        sinned


Peace,
Toby 

Yeah, but what does it PRODUCE?

I have a wonderful new friend named Lindy who is an artist and a poet. Her work in both mediums is fantastic, but that’s not the thing…The thing is that her art makes ME want to paint and her poetry makes ME want to write poetry…and not just “want to” but to actually DO it. I have written a half dozen poems since being around her and her poetry. It’s like the real purpose of her painting is to inspire others to pick up a brush. And anyone who has played Pictionary with me knows just what an accomplishment it is to get ME painting or drawing anything! But there is something about Lindy’s work that almost becomes participatory in a sense. In hearing one of her poems  - she’s a performance poet  - the listener gets involved, caught up, called to respond.

Typically, when we think of a great artist, we think of someone whose work stops us in our tracks and renders us speechless, except perhaps for the declaration, “Wow! She sure is a great artist!” We’ve almost become used to defining great art as something to be admired, something to bow down before, something to be powerless in the face of.

But I’m done with such a definition. If great art makes me passive or casts me in the role of mere admirer, I want no part of its greatness. If all an artist is after is the admiration and reverence of others, what’s so “great” about that? Greatness in art or in anything else should produce something, result in something, change something. Greatness should bear fruit. Every time I've seen Bruce Springsteen in concert, I have spent the next three days playing my guitar and writing until my fingers stopped working. THAT is why he's "The Boss!"

Many theologians have compared God to an artist, and I buy into the comparison, but only if God’s art produces more than human praise, adoration, or even worship.  In recent years, I’ve stopped believing that God gives a rip about our praise and worship.  (And if you think I’m full of crap on this point, I suggest you check out Amos 5:21 and following.) I just don’t think that the God of the Universe suffers from some divine self-image problem and needs to hear me or anyone else tell Him/Her how great He/She is again and again and again. I'm willing to bet that all the prayers of adoration and hymns of praise in the world don’t move God in the least. Why not?… Because if God is the kind of artist I think She is, then She wants her creation to PRODUCE further creation in and through each of us. God wants His divine creation to result in and spawn human creation.

This is why Jesus spent so much of his three year ministry dwelling on fruit. He wasn’t interested in our words nor our declared beliefs nor even our promises of loyalty. He was and still is interested in fruit. Check out Matthew 7:16-20, the apex of the Sermon on the Mount; it’s all about fruit! “By their fruit you will recognize them.” In Luke 6, Jesus reiterates that, “No good tree bears bad fruit and no bad tree bears good fruit. Each tree is recognized by its own fruit.” Think of the parable of the talents. It wasn’t enough for the servant to merely receive and hold onto that which the Master gave him, for the Master was and is interested in fruit. It is by our fruit that we are known. Fruit is a visible sign of production – thus the word “Produce” in that section of our neighborhood grocery store where the fruit is found. When God’s creative work bears fruit in us, that means that we have PRODUCED something with it.

One of the reasons I stopped being a preacher was that I grew weary of all the praise and admiration I received for the quality of my sermons. If all my sermons did was bring honor and admiration to me for being an able preacher, what good is that? I can’t help but think God feels the same way. That’s why he had Amos tell the people of Israel: “I hate, I despise your religious festivals; I cannot stand your assemblies. Even though you bring me burnt offerings and grain offerings, I will not accept them…Away with the noise of your songs! I will not listen to the music of your harps. But let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream.”

It’s all about fruit. Lindy’s way of being an artist – a “great” artist - has helped me understand and articulate a paradigmatic shift that has taken place in my understanding of faith and of what I’m here on this earth to do…to get others to PARTICIPATE in the unfolding and unfinished artistry of the Creator…to pick up a brush…to bear fruit.  Thanks, Lindy, for showing me what true greatness is and what true greatness does.

PS – this Saturday night, November 20 from 5-7 pm, Lindy is opening a new show entitled “Vintage” at her gallery - Seed Studio - on Dexter St. in downtown Elk Rapids. I’ve been given a sneak peek and this show will blow you away!

Walking Out of the Darkness

 A good friend and fellow participant in our Living Vision Experiment, Debbie Allen, organized Petoskey’s first ever Walk to support the prevention of suicide. Today was the day, and what a day it was! Gorgeous blue skies, balmy temperatures for November 7, and the walk began at Petoskey’s waterfront park and proceeded west right along the water’s edge for about 4 miles.

About 23 of us gathered for introductions and some opening words from Deb and a few others, including a suicide survivor. Somehow, it seemed, we had all been touched by suicide. In my case, my grandfather took his own life, and I’ve since lost a couple very close friends and a couple of my high school students as well.

Just this week, NPR had a special segment in which the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs and his wife spoke of the alarming number of suicides happening each month in our enlisted military personnel. I believe the number was about a hundred and ten a month. I then heard from a veteran at the walk today that over 35% of the total suicides in America are veterans. And perhaps saddest of all, when a soldier takes his own life, he said, the family does NOT receive a letter of condolence from anyone in our military or government. (Ain't THAT America?)

Clearly, our country has a long way to go when it comes to understanding suicide, preventing it, and, when we fail to prevent it, responding to it with compassion and intelligence. For 23 of us, today was one small step in the right direction, and we were all so grateful to Deb for giving us the opportunity to heighten our own awareness and to raise a little bit of money for the cause.

The walk for me was a physical challenge and an exercise in dependence. I’m still in a heavy cast with a surgically repaired ankle and a broken fibula. I desperately need exercise and wanted to fight through my own weakness by walking/crutching as much of this important trail as I could. As my arms began to ache after the first mile or so, I thought of the families I know – and those I don’t – who have lost someone to suicide. I thought about that kind of pain that just won’t go away and crutched on. But soon, I had to succumb to the ache and to my own weakness. And fortunately, as I did, I was able to seek refuge in a wheelchair Deb had provided for me - along with one of her very fit co-workers named Jeff, who pushed me most of the rest of the way.

My physical struggle today struck me as an apt metaphor for how it is that we all manage to walk through our lives. We need some help getting started. We rely on a leader to organize us and call us to action. We do the best we can for as long as we can. But eventually, the best any of us can hope for is someone to be there when our strength runs out, when the road becomes too much for us, when we simply cannot go on. Today, for me, on my walk, Jeff was that someone. Who has it been for you? But even more importantly, can you and I be aware enough, present enough, open enough to be that someone pushing a wheelchair, holding the safety net, or providing a listening ear when some weary soul in our lives is no longer able to go on?

It’s not too late if you’d like to contribute to Deb’s Out of the Darkness Walk for the prevention of suicide. Email Deb at theallens@chartermi.net

Peace