Nothing

As the days grow longer and school gets out for the summer I feel a certain dread come upon me.  It is not a dread of hot days or summer hailstorms.  It is not even the dread “slow” days at church as people are gone for vacation.

It is the dread of hearing one word spoken over and over and over again by my children.  The word?  “Nothing.”  I’ll walk into the garage to find that the girls have stacked boxes and bins precariously atop one anther in order to get something that is out of reach.  I’ll ask, “What are you doing?”  To which they will reply, “nothing.”  And yet that will only be the beginning for throughout the summer I’m guaranteed to hear at least 3487 times that there is “nothing” to do, “nothing” that interests them, “nothing” to play with, “nothing” to learn.  Nothing.  In fact, I’m beginning to wonder if “nothing” is the most misused word in the entire language.  While I can’t speak for the rest of the world, in my home “nothing” looks a lot like everything!  There are countless things to do and learn and play with.  And believe me, when my girls are out of sight they definitely are not up to “nothing.”

To be honest there is often a lot of “nothing” that feels a lot like something in my life.  Sometimes when Julie is really quiet I’ll ask her, “what’s wrong?”  If she answers “nothing” then things are about to get ugly.  In fact, there may be no greater warning in the world that “something” is going on than to have someone tell you it’s “nothing.”

For some reason though, it got me to wondering if perhaps that’s not always a bad thing.  Maybe there are times when nothing can mean everything and I mean everything.

I’ve had a couple of opportunities over the years, both in Denver and in Dallas, to worship with some urban Christian communities made up almost entirely of homeless or poverty stricken people.  On each of those occasions I’ve left with a profound sense that something very special had taken place even though to all outward appearances it may have seemed like nothing.  These groups of Christians usually met in the sparsest of places, never actually their own, and worship with the most minimal of things.  No screens, no hymnals, no organ, no band, no altar or pulpit, sometimes a guitar but really almost nothing.  Yet despite that, the joy they felt together receiving the promises and gifts of God was tangible.  The Holy Spirit was mightily at work among them as many were baptized, heard our Lord’s Words of forgiveness and even received his supper.  I experienced this weird transcendent feeling as if I was either at the very first Christian worship service in Jerusalem 2000 years ago OR at the very last one at some future time in heaven. 

Each time that has happened I’ve come away thinking of Paul’s words to the Corinthians about what it means to be a servant of Christ.

“Rather, as servants of God we commend ourselves in every way: … through glory and dishonor, bad report and good report;

genuine, yet regarded as impostors;

known, yet regarded as unknown;

dying, and yet we live on;

beaten, and yet not killed; 

sorrowful, yet always rejoicing;

poor, yet making many rich;

having nothing, and yet possessing everything.  

 (2 Corinthians 6:4, 8-11)

And of course it’s that last one that really gets me… having nothing, and yet possessing everything.

What Paul is saying goes beyond being poetic and witty.  He is speaking about a deep and profound truth.  It is a truth, a revelation that there is so much more to our lives.  It is a truth that speaks not simple platitudes like “everything happens for a reason” or “God never gives us more than we can stand.”  But true truth, truth like Jesus’, “I am the way, the truth and the life” kind of truth.  For while each of us has countless things for which to be thankful, the truth is that the things we have accumulated and collected amount to nothing.  For the more we approach God in our “nothingness”; no pride, no excuses, no moralism, no self centeredness, the more we will find that he has already given us everything in His Son.  Nothing is more certain or more sure than that.

The Old has Gone; The New Has Come

The month of March brought together an eclectic number of experiences for me, culminating into an epiphany of sorts. 

A pastor friend of mine emailed me asking me to give one sentence on what Easter means to me.  (I think he was just being lazy and trying to get us to write his Easter sermon. ;)  And since he was being lazy I decided to be lazy too, I didn’t give him one sentence but one word, “new.”

I too have been preparing for Holy week and our celebration of The Resurrection of Our Lord.  I was working on things like our Sunrise Service, planning the usual things like our responsive “Alleluia, Christ is Risen!  He is Risen Indeed, Alleluia!”  Much of the Christian church continues to use that responsive for all 7 Sundays during the season of Easter.  I usually stop using it about the 3^rd Sunday of Easter, because it gets so repetitive, stale and boring.

In the meantime, a dear couple in our church has been going through a very difficult time.  Pat Haverstick has been in hospice care as her body succumbed to the effects of cancer and amyloidosis. As I visited Pat and her husband Mike over that time, I had a number of occasions to talk with them and of course share what our Lord had to say in his word.  On one occasion we read 2 Corinthians 4:16 – 5:9.

“16 Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.  17 For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.  18 So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.  5:1 Now we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands.  2 Meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, 3 because when we are clothed, we will not be found naked.  4 For while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life.  5 Now it is God who has made us for this very purpose and has given us the Spirit as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come. 6 Therefore we are always confident and know that as long as we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord.  7 We live by faith, not by sight.  8 We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord.  9 So we make it our goal to please him, whether we are at home in the body or away from it.”

Immediately when I finished reading that passage Pat said to me, “I want to save that one.”  I knew exactly what she meant because I felt the same way.

A few days later we celebrated the gifts of God in Sunday worship and the epistle lesson was again from 2 Corinthians 5 and I was particularly stuck by verse 17 “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!”

As I visited Pat and Mike over the following week something very strange began to take place.  Each time I was with them I could actually “see” the truth of this Bible verse.  For as Pat’s body seemed to get weaker with each passing visit, her trust in Jesus seemed to get stronger and stronger.  As Mike watched his beautiful and generous wife grow more frail each day, I saw his confidence in the promises of Jesus become more solid day by day.  Until it finally dawned on me.  This is what it looks like.  This is what it means.  “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come! “  It does not mean life is easy or perfect or pain free.  But it does mean that old way of death and pain and sorrow is gone and the way of life, the new way in Jesus, is taking over.

On Sunday March 17^th at approximately 3:20 pm, Pat closed her eyes on this world and opened them to see the face of Jesus welcoming her into his arms.  And in my mind he said something like this, “Welcome Pat, the old has gone and the new has come.”

As I sat at my desk finishing some Easter services the next morning I came across my Sunrise service with its usual responsive “Alleluia, Christ is Risen!  He is Risen Indeed, Alleluia!” and suddenly it didn’t seem so repetitive and stale and boring.  In fact, I’ve decided to put it back in all my services for the season of Easter.  And I don’t know what the congregation will be thinking but I know what I will.  I’ll be thinking of Pat.  I’ll be thinking of Eunice, Jerry and Charles.  I’ll be thinking of all of God’s saints that he has called home.  And I’ll be thinking, “if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come! “

My question now is do I need to email my friend back and tell him what Easter really means to me?  If so then I know what I’d tell him.  It means that the old way of pain and sorrow and death is gone.  And the new way of peace and joy and life has come.  I’d tell him that I know its not perfect yet, I know there is still pain and sorrow and death.  I’d tell him that the Resurrection of Jesus doesn’t mean that I, and the people I love, won’t suffer and one day die.  But I’d tell him the Resurrection of Jesus does mean that suffering and death are ending and that new life, real life, life in Christ is here.  And I’d also tell him I’ve seen a hint of what it looks like and I can’t wait until I see it completely when Jesus returns.

“He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” (Rev. 21:5)