Sermon series on RESPECT

Life is precious

I have a confession to make.   A few weeks ago I had to go to Walmart. HAD to go.  It was one of those lists that only made sense at Walmart   And I said as much to the kids.  They were incredulous at my attitude…”Mom! It’s Walmart   Don’t you love Walmart  You can get anything there!”  Never mind Disney World, just take my kids to Walmart.  “No,” I confessed to them, “I don’t love Walmart   Those aren't my people.” And there it was, the confession of my heart. When it comes to Walmart  I’m a snob.  Not that it keeps me away that much, a lot of my life happens at Walmart.

I was actually heading to Walmart six years ago when the nurse called from the Obstetricians office.  I was heading down highway 90 in Ocean Springs as she explained that my blood levels had come back abnormal and I would need to undergo further testing to determine if the baby I was carrying had a genetic abnormality.  “These things are usually false positives, but we will get the test done soon enough so you can terminate the pregnancy if needed.”  It’s amazing the details you can remember about the moment your life changes completely.  I sat in the Walmart parking lot for quite a while.  When I finally went inside, there was a family having a family moment right at the door.  Ahh, Walmart  the place you go to feel better about your problems.  The mother was facing me, and she was furious, that much was evident.  The daughter had her back to me, but she was obviously not doing what her mother wanted.  She had some school supplies clutched in her crossed arms and she was shaking her head vehemently.  My hand instinctively went to my growing waist, evidence of a half-completed pregnancy, as the unbidden thought entered my mind: “whatever problems this baby has, we won’t have that problem.”  It was that moment that the girl turned and her face revealed the delicate features of Trisomy 21, Down Syndrome.  All at once the weight of the nurse’s words and the fear inside my heart came crashing down.  I won’t take the time to tell the rest of our story, but if you’re interested, you can read more about it here.

Today, I want to talk about life.  Fragile, crazy, beautiful, scary, hard, precious life.  In our series on respect, I want to begin with the preeminent value of life.  Without life, all of our other arguments are null and void.  Now, before you gather all of your arguments about life and choice and equality and all the other political buzz words we’ve attached to the word, I’ll just go ahead and give you my bottom line.  I’m not interested in changing your opinions today.  I don’t believe myself to be that persuasive.  However, I would like to encourage you to consider your opinions, whatever they may be, from this perspective: God is the author of life, and God believes that all life is precious.  That’s the bottom line. 

^{Psalm 139 (CEV)}

¹³ You are the one
who put me together
    inside my mother’s body,
¹⁴ and I praise you
    because of
the wonderful way
    you created me.

Everything you do is marvelous!
    Of this I have no doubt.

¹⁵ Nothing about me
    is hidden from you!
I was secretly woven together
    deep in the earth below,
¹⁶ but with your own eyes
    you saw
    my body being formed.
Even before I was born,
you had written in your book
    everything I would do.

And while applying that lens to your perspective on life, would you prayerfully consider doing this as well: would you be willing widen the margins on your definition of life to make room for the mystery of God?  So many debates get bogged down in the quagmire of when life begins and ends, and how we are to treat others at various stages of life.  The reality is, we don’t know what we don’t know.  We think we know what we know about life, but even what we know about life changes all the time, but for sure, we don’t know what we don’t know.  So it would seem to foolish to assert that we know something about what we know we don’t know.  Did you follow that?  Here’s what I’m trying to say: widen the margins.  Make room for the mystery of God.  However you define life, would you be willing to say, in regards to those margins, “and maybe a little more, because I don’t know everything.” 

What is the value of a life?  Our judicial system has a formula for applying value, based on the ability to earn income and other mitigating factors.  At premium, life is worth $7 million.  That is preceded by the statement, life is invaluable.  We may be confused.

According to science, life is worth $90.  Let me explain. 

One day, a science professor had set out several vats of different-colored liquids, gases and pyrex boxes containing elemental solids. Nitrogen, hydrogen, oxygen, carbon, mercury... a few other elements that the human body is composed of, all in proportion to how much of each element could be found in the average adult human body. Each container had a sticker on it, the price tag, as dictated by the supplier from whence these elements were bought. At the far end of the table upon which all of this stuff sat was a folded card, like a tiny tent of paper, and on that piece of folded paper, standing up like a marquee, was the sum total of each price. It read:

"The cost of human life, in raw materials: $83.72"

 The professor picked up the card, showed it to the class and said:

"This is what the human body is worth, if you were to go out to the store and purchase the materials necessary to build one. But there's more to it than that, isn't there? You can't just take these things, mix them up in a bowl, slap them in the oven and, nine months later, wind up with a human being. It takes much more than that. These items must be arranged in a certain way, at the molecular and cellular level, and manipulated to a degree that it would boggle the mind.Genetics, cellular mitosis, osmosis, molecular replication... these are some of the processes by which a human body develops." He waved to the elements behind him. "All these things are inert, by themselves, but something is added to make them dynamic and singular. Kids, I'm going to tell you this once and once only: the human body is cheap, dirt cheap in the grand scheme of things, but the quality that gives a human body life is something neither science nor money can ever measure. You're here to learn how science works and how it can be applied to learning how things work, but it can only work up to a certain point. At that point, we must stop and wait for science to catch up. The saying that life is precious is true only in that the human experience which validates that life is invaluable. We cannot put a price on experience. You can pay for some experiences, but that is only a fiction of economics. Life is more than just your body and mind. And science cannot even begin to comprehend where life begins and where it ends. That task is best left for the philosophers and dreamers. If you came here looking for answers to life, then you're paying a significantly steep price for answers that will get you nowhere. Or, at least, your parents are."

(borrowed from the internet, unable to verify the source...however I am currently working to verify the facts and I should be able to update the cost this week...fascinating!)

So how will we define life? Value life?

Before we can begin to wrap our hearts and minds around the value of another person’s life, we have to deal with the reality of our personal value.  I’m not talking about the superficial, selfish choices we all make to bring pleasure to our physical life.  I’m talking about who we are, who we really are, our purpose for existence   Because people who understand their value, their purpose, they live differently.  Remember our lens from which we peer today: God is the author of life, and to God, life is precious.  Your life is precious.  The promise is for Abundant life and then eternal life, not miserable life and then you die.  We mistakenly believe that with Jesus we will always have either happy life where nothing bad happens, physical blessings abound like Christmas, and the sun always shines; or conversely we believe that with Jesus we will live a sad, depressed, gray, never fun uber-fundamental doldrum existence and then die and sleep in the clouds.  But we’d be wrong on both accounts.  Jesus came to show us that while in this life we will know trouble, but we can be bold, courageous, joyful, and peaceful because Jesus has overcome the world.  Jesus didn’t just come to earth to provide train tickets to heaven.  We don’t get our card punched and then wait for that glory bound train, all the while wasting away here in the shadow-lands without joy or peace in the midst of suffering.  On the contrary, Jesus lived a human life, a tough one to be sure, full of friends, joy, parties, tears, relationships, memories, experiences, humanity.  And Jesus’ life proves that your life is precious, and worth saving. 

Why would God step out of heaven, and wrap himself in flesh if not to demonstrate the value of human life?  Why would Jesus suffer the indignities of acne, gas, and in-grown toenails?  Why would God put himself through the misery of human inter-relationships?  Why would God choose to become human?  Could he not have saved us any other way?  Could he not have spoken through the mountains, the storms, the birds, the beasts?  But he became a baby, a teenager, a man.  His very painful death happened to a real human body.  Why?  Because, to God, who created life, life is precious.  It’s worth rescuing from the pits of hell, but it’s also worth rescuing from the doldrums of human existence.  What are you doing with the life God has given you?  Do you live on purpose?  Do you live understanding the price God paid to redeem your life?  Do you care?

Once we get our heads and hearts on straight about the value of our lives, we also have the capacity to appreciate the value of all life.  This is hard work.  It is one thing to value the lives of those we love, who are kind or good to us, or who society has deemed “valuable.”  It is quite another thing to extend the merits of value to every individual.  We measure, we weigh, we find others wanting.  And we forget that when we devalue the life of one human, we devalue the life of all humanity. Your life is precious.  Their life is too.  We must widen the margins and believe God has purpose for every being he creates.

Their life is precious.  God loves her, and him, and all them at Walmart  He probably wishes they would pick up some new undergarments while at Walmart, but He loves them.

My invitation to you this week is to serve life where you find it to be most precious and vulnerable.  We

confuse politics and faith quite often in these discussions.  We convince ourselves that we can convince others to believe our beliefs by yelling louder or raising more money for our politician.  But if we examine the actions and attitudes of Jesus, we will find that he didn’t press for political reform.  He pressed for heart reformation.  How do we change a human heart?  Love.  It all comes back to love.

Are you bothered by issues regarding the beginning of life?  Then the love the most vulnerable people on that front.  Serve them, pray for them, hug them, provide shelter.  Are your issues with end of life debates?  Then do the same.  Serve, pray, touch, provide.  Are you most concerned with fragile humanity caught in the undertow of bureaucracy and politics?  Don’t scream and shout…you will be never be heard.  Serve and love…and you will break down walls.

And if in the midst of serving and loving and touching and being touched, you find the margins on your definition of life expanding, all the better.  You know, before life was a game, a magazine, a cereal…before life was messy and hard or grand and a bowl of cherries…life was in God.  God loves life, God is life.  When you love, serve, touch life, you touch, serve, love God.

Birthdays in Heaven

Do you think we celebrate birthdays in heaven?  Do we celebrate the day of our physical birth, spiritual birth, or conception?  Do we celebrate the day God imagined our days?  If birthdays are a way of marking our passage through time, how does that work out in eternity?

And do such mind games matter when what you really want is to celebrate the birthday on this earth, in this reality, at this time?  And isn't that, after all, why we celebrate birthdays...because we survived another year.  Because we are still together another year.  Because I still have you this year.

I am working on a sermon this week called A Day Submitted.  It is from the fourth chapter of James.  James is really giving the church a tongue lashing at this point regarding their treatment (or mis-treatment) of others.  He challenges their "control issues" by making the point, "You should know better than to say, "Today or tomorrow we will go into the city. We will do business there for a year and make a lot of money!" What do you know about tomorrow? How can you be so sure about your life? It is nothing more than mist that appears for only a little while before it disappears. You should say, "If the Lord lets us live, we will do these things.
          
I am trying to let this word challenge my schedule.  It has helped that I keep forgetting my calendar at home this week.

This prayer by Ken Gire has also helped: Forgive me, Lord, for being so concerned about my other commitments that I am unconcerned about my commitment to others. Help me to realize that so much of true ministry isn't what I schedule but what comes as an intrusion to my schedule. Keep my schedule flexible enough, Lord, so that when my path comes across someone in need, I would be quick to change my plans in preference to yours.

It has also helped that I am preparing for a wedding for a bride who won't have her mother there because her mother wasn't given another year on this earth.

It has also helped that I went to lunch to celebrate a friend's birthday...only she wasn't there because this year she celebrates at the Lord's table, at the wedding feast of the Lamb.

Which begs the question, do we celebrate birthdays in heaven? Maybe we celebrate the day we arrive home.

What do you know about tomorrow?
I know we make a lot of assumptions when we plan for it.  I don't think that's sinful.  But I don't think it's fruitful when we forget Who causes the sun to rise on our world, Who puts the breath in our lungs or the beat in our hearts.

Teach me to count the days...teach me to make the days count.

What would you do with one day left to live?  Not a very original question...it has been fodder for books, movies, blogs, songs.  What is moving is watching someone with one day left to live.

She brought them in, one at a time, and she told them how much she loved them.  She told them how much they meant to her, all she had learned from them, gained from them, grown from them.  She summoned strength from heaven knows where to wrap tired, thin limbs around each neck, to place dry, cracked lips on each cheek.  She spoke words that each of them needed to hear.  She knew her children needed her to say, "It will be okay.  I'll be with you.  I have everything worked out for you."  She knew her mother needed her to say, "Thank you.  I need you so much.  You taught me to be strong."  She knew her friends needed her to say, "I have loved being your friend.  Thank you for being mine."  She knew her pastor needed her to say, "I have learned so much from you.  Thank you for the faith you've taught me.  You have comforted me and my family so much."  She knew her husband needed her to say, "I love you.  You are my soul, my heart.  You have faithfully loved me, fought for me, done everything you could do.  I know I am loved by you."  How did she know to say all those things?  Because she lived all the days beforehand loving, listening, serving.

A few days before she died, she and I retold the story of Jesus's words to his friends the day before his death.  How he pulled them all around one table.  How he told them that he was praying for them, how proud he was of them...of all that they had done, of all that they would do.  He told them he wouldn't leave them, not really.  He told them he loved them.  He told them that if they ever struggled to remember, to celebrate this way:

Share a loaf of bread. 

 Remember the way he gave himself.  Remember the way he fed their hungry mouths, their hungry souls.  Remember the way he so easily brought up the nets, lifted their heads.  Share a loaf of bread...with each other. And then with someone hungrier.  And He would be right there.

Share a cup of wine. 

 Remember the way he poured himself out. Remember the way he gave water. Remember the way he redeemed water.  Remember the way he controlled the water, walked on water...trampled on fear.  Share a cup of juice...with each other.  And then with someone thirstier.  And He would be right there.
How did he know what they needed to hear?  Because he had been there, the day before and the day before that.
He was there when they decided to follow.  He was there when they turned away. He was there when childish imagination gave yield to adult anxiety. He was there when the first breath of oxygen was inhaled.  He was there when the first kick against warm womb was given. He was there when the first beat of the heart screamed LIFE! He was there then, loving, listening, serving.

Which leads me to think, He celebrates when we get home.  Who knows, maybe we celebrate lots of birthdays in heaven.  Maybe there are all kinds of "births" that God has noted in our book of days, proud of the passages we have braved, trusting the shepherd that has guided us through the valley of the shadow.  Jesus does make heaven sound like one huge celebration.

I guess I'll have to wait to find out.  And that's ok.  I have a lot to celebrate here in the mean time.

Jus' Jon

 
Today we celebrate a freckle-faced, uber-smart, high-energy, all around great American kid: Jon Burris!

Let me tell you about Jon.  I tell Jon, "You've been arguing with me and insisting on your own way since 30 weeks in utero."  He just tilts that squirrelly head sideways and grins.  I was the full-time, student mother of a 7-month-old, high-maintenance baby when I found out I was pregnant with #2.  I cried.  I went to the little altar at the country church Cliff was pastoring and prayed: "God I can't have another baby.  I already have a baby!"  The OB/GYN (who encouraged me to stop breast feeding the 10 month old, as it is difficult to support 3 life forms) told me: "You will hate yourself for about 3 years, and then you'll be so glad they're so close in age."  I tried to believe him.  When we found out that #2 would also be a boy, we began praying over him a spirit of friendship for his brother.  If they were going to be "Irish twins", we wanted them to be best friends.

I woke up from a pregnancy dream (you know, those really vivid, crazy dreams) knowing his name would be Jon.  In the dream, I was standing next a "holy figure"....I don't know a better way to describe it.  Maybe an angel?  He was "testing" my knowledge of Bible hero stories.  Maybe a seminary professor?  Anyway, the final character presented in this test was John the Baptist.  I identified him correctly and the figure said, "There arose a prophet named John."  And I woke up.  We decided on Jonathan, David's best friend.  We would call him Jon.  Just j-o-n.  Jon.

I was six weeks from graduating from seminary, and 30 weeks pregnant with Just Jon when he decided he was ready to enter the world.  Always ready, that kid.  The doctor and I agreed to override his decision, but it required medication and some compromises on my part.  While I wasn't willing to drop out of school (6 weeks left in a 4 year journey, people!), I was willing to watch some classes by video and drop out of all other activities.  It worked.  Jon stayed put until 37 weeks.  The week of graduation I was selected by my class to participate in the senior worship service.  I was worried that the mere activity of walking up the aisle in the processional and standing in the chancel would trigger labor.  We sang the following hymn during that service:

Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth;

Thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide.

Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow

Blessings all mine, with 10,000 beside.

Great is Thy faithfulness, great is Thy faithfulness!

Morning by morning, new mercies I see.  

All I have needed, Thy hand has provided.

Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord unto me.

Jon as Houdini in the 4 Year Old Circus

Feeling the kicks of that little guy as the organ and the congregation affirmed God's great watch-care over His creation was an unforgettable experience.  As was his birth.  A week after graduation, and three weeks before his due date, I went to bed thinking we would end up in the hospital.  I packed all the bags, and went to bed ready for whatever.  I woke up about 5 a.m. with contractions.  As I laid in the pre-dawn stillness of our parsonage, I read the day's Upper Room while watching the sun rise and counting minutes between contractions.  The chosen scripture reading for that day, June 4, 2002 was the story of Zechariah and Elizabeth naming John.  Wasting no time (Jon received the "wastes no time" award last year in school), Jon arrived before noon.  It was only after he was snuggled into my arms that I had time to tell Cliff about the devotion.  Jonathan Zechariah was finally allowed to make his debut into the world eleven years ago today.  His attitude has ALWAYS been, "what do I get to do today?"

Jon posing with "Tiger Woods" at Madame Tussaud's

That kid has packed a lot of life into 11 years.  And a lot of smiles.  His mouth has been open since birth...and not to eat, either.  Oh, to get Jon to sit still long enough to eat a plate of food!  He is either laughing or telling a story or both.  With a grin that literally splits his face wide open, his smile is infectious and life-giving.  And behind that smile comes friendship, creativity galore, and just enough mischief to keep it interesting.

We had Josh attending a preschool in Morton where we lived.  Jon was too young to go, so I would bring him with me to the Hispanic mission where I worked.  The pastor's wife would keep Jon (and teach him Spanish).  But he desperately wanted to go with Josh.  Finally, when he was 18 months old, the school decided he could attend...but he had to wear a uniform.  So we found little navy and white onesies, had them monogramed with the school insignia, pulled the khakis over the diaper, and sent Jon to school.  That's where he met Ms. Thelma.  Ms. Thelma loved her some Jon Burris.  While all the other children were napping, she and Jon would sit and talk.  (Wait, how old was Jon?  That's right, 18 months old.)  She told us one day that she tried to call him Jonathan, but he said, "Ms. Thelma, I'm jus' Jon."  Every day at the preschool, after reciting the pledge and their Bible verse for the week, the students would recite a poem in which they proclaimed, Excellence, I pursue you!  Jon would muster up all the seriousness he could find in that little mischievous body and declare boldly and proudly: eskalence, I p'sue you!

Getting Jon to sit and eat has always, always, always been a challenge.  We had gone out as a family to a bbq restaurant (not Jon's favorite because he has been a self-declared vegetarian since 6 months old).  Jon was, again, standing in his seat and being loud.  Cliff and I had already corrected him multiple times.  Finally Cliff, in a very controlled yet firm voice said, "If you don't sit down and eat your meal, I'm going to take you to the restroom and spank you. Do you hear me clearly?"  Without missing a beat, Jon said, "My name's not Clearly, it's Jon."

Later that year Jon found out he would soon become an older brother.  Josh was not the least bit interested in this new phenomenon, but Jon's imagination was completely engaged.  He stood about as tall as my belly button, and he regularly noticed my blossoming shape.  One day he said, "Mom, can the baby see me?"
"No, Jon, but the baby can hear you."  Jon pressed his face to my belly and said in a very low man-voice, "Baby, it's me Jon."

As Jon continued to watch my shape change, he became very concerned about the baby's exit strategy.  "How will the baby get out, Mom?"  I was not prepared for the birds and bees talk, especially with this particularly verbose preschooler.  "I will go the hospital, and the doctors will take her out."
"oh."
(wait for it)
"How will the doctors do that?  Will they cut your stomach open?"
Now this is where you and I will probably have a difference of opinion because it would have been very easy to say, "yes."  But I knew I wasn't going to have a c-section, and while I didn't want to have an anatomy conversation, I also didn't want to give him false information.
"No.  God gave mommies a tunnel for the babies to come out of.  The doctors help the baby come safely through the tunnel."
"oh."
(wait for it)
"Do they crawl like this?"  I nearly ran off the road laughing as I witnessed him through my rear view mirror doing a mock military crawl in his car seat.
"Uhm, no.  The doctor and I push on my tummy and she will slide out."
"Like going to the bathroom?"
"yeeeeahhhh....something like that..."
"oh."
(wait for it)
"What's at the end of the tunnel."
Oh Lord.  Why is my house so freakin far away.  "Uhm, a hole for the baby to come out of."
"oh."
(wait for it)
"Can I see the hole?"
That's gonna be a "no."

Jon wakes up talking.  His dad doesn't.  His dad takes him to school every morning.  (Oh to be a fly in that vehicle.)  Jon has this cute way of tilting his head and raising his voice an octave to ask questions.
"Dad, do you think we'll ever be able to see the internet?"
           "Dad, how cold does a cold-blooded reptile's blood get before hypothermia sets in?"

"Dad, would you rather die of hypothermia or heat stroke?"
               "Dad, who had more faith, Noah or Moses?"
"Dad, when you were a teenager (Cliff LOVES these questions) did you hate smoking like I do?"
      "Dad, how many children do you think I'll have?"
Cliff has learned to engage the children in prayer on the way to school.

But Jon's head is not just full of thoughts; his heart is very thoughtful.  He told Josh recently, "We really are best friends."  Just this morning he gave Zoe some of his birthday money to buy a ball cap.  His teachers always tell me about the acts of kindness he performs at school.  Jon probably has a million thoughts a minute...and a sizable number of them are about how to help you.

My OB/GYN was more right than he could have known.  What is the source of laughter, debate, experiments, mischief, and delight in our home?  Jus' Jon.

What a month!

Joel as Easter Lovey Bunny

Ahh, Easter!  I love Easter.  It's what I do, you know??!?  Really, I've loved Easter since I was a kid.  But wowser, it does a number to my calendar.

Easter Love

Add to that a birthday...a vacation...confirmation...youth Sunday...sickness...sickness x 3...a new dog...a tragic loss...baseball season...

3 Kids in 3 leagues = 5 days of baseball per week = crazy town!

...well, you get the picture (and just in case you don't...I've attached a few).

Confirmation 2013: Josh was in this class.  Perks of being a pastor--confirming your child.

.

I have been busy writing all the while, just not busy publishing.  So, hopefully soon I will start rolling out some of these thoughts that have spilled over to paper-screen as I have celebrated LIFE over the last month.  I hope you stay tuned.

Zoe is 7.  Pink and purple are still her favorite colors.  She is still my favorite princess.

We've grown by four feet: Meet Winston.  He's a Labradoodle.

Josh stealing, Jon catching, Zoe batting

 Fun times in Kentucky.  Josh and Jon were born there...and were ecstatic about posing outside of the hospital.  Will (the big kid in the picture) was a Kindergartner when we lived there.  His mini-me look-alike is Luke, his ten year younger brother.  Zoe and Luke hit it off big time.  Joel fit right in too!

Youth Sunday

The youth group at Trinity led worship the Second Sunday after Easter.  Their theme was discipleship.  Over the next several weeks, I am going to post some of their essays.  Amazing!

Last week our congregation said goodbye to a beautiful lady.  Julie's friends and family gathered to celebrate her life and encourage her precious family (mother, husband and 3 children).                        I love this picture of Julie.  It speaks of a promise, a secret that Julie knows.  There's more!