Let’s think about others this week. No, I’m not trying to encourage you to do something for another person (though that is always a good idea). I’m literally saying that we should think about the term “others.” So, let’s begin with a definition and then an observation. An “other” is “a person (or thing) distinct or different from one already mentioned or known about.”

We were doing so well. Sunshine, warmth, snow melt, the appearance of grass — and then we wake up to snow and a winter wonderland all over again. Oh, and while we’re at it, the world seems to be controlled by despots and idiots. Media continues to champion the banal over the substantive. My wife is in a dark place right now. I know others who are struggling with everything from death-bringing disease to mental health issues to marital problems to grief. And beyond all this, let me tell you about …

Tim recently found himself trying to arbitrate a dispute between his two eldest daughters. Despite his well-honed arbitration skills (he’s a lead pastor, after all), his daughters were having none of it. Things went sideways rapidly. They shouted angrily at each other. Tim lost his temper a bit and yelled at them. The girls stomped off to their respective rooms. Elly, the youngest, who had observed the whole thing, commented drolly, “Well, that was a an overreaction!” It was all Tim could do to exit the room without busting a gut in laughter.

This past Sunday, Tim did a great job of dealing with the subject of death as he took us through the last act of David’s life. There can be no denying it: David did not finish well. He died a bitter, frail, vindictive, and impotent man. But there can also be no denying that the bible refers to David as “a man after God’s own heart,” and that the title, ‘Son of David,’ was not only one of great honor but one reserved for God’s Messiah. So what do we do with all this? What are we to make of it?

Two completely unrelated events foster my thoughts this week. The first occurred this past Sunday, when a dear friend said she’d been thinking lately about confession. The second occurred two days earlier as I was running the edge of a section of my dining room table past a high speed router bit. The bit was cutting that hard wood like a hot knife through butter when my ears detected just the slightest click for one brief instant. I held my breath, finished the pass and used my thumb to briefly check the edge. All was well and I was relieved, having completed one of the most challenging operations on the dining table I’m building.

The smoke billowed around my shop, its acrid smell making my breathing uncomfortable. Yet, contrary to the adage, there was no fire, only clouds of smoke that required me to open both my overhead door and the entry door in order for at least some of the smoke to dissipate. With temperatures in the minus 20’s, that was no great delight!

My shop is still standing today, despite yesterday’s shenanigans. Let me explain.

When you look outside, what do you see? What do you think about? How does it affect you? 

If you’re “normal,” you see sunshine and feel uplifted. Clouds bring a sense of gloom. A squirrel  is a very active varmint that makes a mess of bird feeders and leaves a mess under the trees  where it chooses to eat. Frost on the windshield means that extra minutes are required to get  where we want to go. The prospect of a cold snap next weekend is just depressing. 

Davis is my youngest grandson and he is, to quote his father, a ‘tunker,’ who ‘bulldozes the  world to his will.’ At two years old, he is as solid as can be despite the fact that he is growing  taller. I kept that in mind as he saw me at church last Sunday and came down the aisle  towards me, a big smile on his face. As he neared me, the smile turned to a mischievous grin  and his pace quickened. In the last six feet, he started to run at me with clear intent. He was  going hard enough that, if he had run into the arm of the chair in which I sat, he would sustain  a serious bruise or a broken rib. He gave no thought to that. His only goal was the thrill of  impact. He was totally confident that I would catch him — which I did, while he laughed at the  good fun! 

The first time it struck me was when I sat in a rented house in Navrongo, in northern Ghana.  Scattered around me in the living room were a short-term missionary team from our church.  We had trained for months. I had gone ahead of them to do some teaching, experienced being  robbed of almost everything, picked them up at the airport in Tamale and now, at last, we were  together in the place that would be our home base for the next couple of weeks, preparing to  both minister to, and learn from, our Ghanaian brothers and sisters. It was mid-January and I  had begun another year of a bible reading plan. Thus, the verse was fresh in my mind. I  quoted Jacob to the group as I began: “To see your face is to see the face of God.” 

I begin the new year with a confession — I find myself misled by my “smart watch.” Perhaps it’s a plot conceived in the dark bowels of a concrete structure for the proletariat in mainland China, though I don’t see how misleading me can possibly further any communist plot. I should also add that I’m pretty sure that my particular watch is made in the U.S, therefore rendering my conspiracy theory null and void. But, I digress.

As this year began to wind down, I set a literary challenge for myself — to read some novels  by the Scottish author, George MacDonald, in his original 19th century English. Having completed one novel and commenced the second, I make these observations. First, there is a reason that Michael Philipps was inspired to translate the books for a modern reader. If you think I am long winded as a preacher, you should read this guy! Second, there is a reason that men like C.S. Lewis and G.K. Chesterton were so influenced by this man. His insight into life  with God as a disciple of Jesus is profound. 

It was the sad reflection of a friend who is close to seeing and experiencing almost a  century of Christmases: “You know, it doesn’t even feel like Christmas anymore. Jesus  is hardly given a thought.” 

By mid November, before Advent even began, my inbox was full of advertisements for  Black Friday sales. As soon as that weekend was over, the next tidal wave was for  Christmas sales. For the last week or more, the emphasis is Boxing Day sales. To be  fair, we’ve also had a month of school Christmas concerts and choir concerts. There  has been carolling and food preparation and Advent wreaths. Tonight, there will be  Christmas Eve services and church attendance will boom. Apparently, it’s now  politically incorrect (actually, it has been for some time) to wish people a Merry  Christmas (substitute “All the best of the season” or “Happy Holidays” to be safe)…

…But the character quality that allows us to wait wisely and well is just as hard to  develop as generosity or controlling our tongue or loving the unlovable. Anyone can  perform a selfless act on a one-off basis. That requires only a modicum of self discipline. But to do the selfless thing over and over again — even to train to do so —  is very hard. 

Despite all of these Christmas activities and displays, I don’t feel one bit in the  Christmas mood. Even as I write this, I’m looking at flowers blooming, clear blue skies,  and hummingbirds flitting from branch to branch. There is no snow, no crisp air that can take your breath away, and no slippery street to navigate carefully. The paradigm is all wrong and I’m realizing how much the paradigm affects my appropriation of the season. 

As Advent gets underway, let’s think together about waiting. But first, let me tell you about my recent shopping fiasco. 

First, a confession of sorts: I really try to strike a balance in my daily living between consulting the Lord for things/guidance/etc while using the wisdom, intelligence and drive that he has given me….

First, an anecdote and a statement, both of which arrested my attention in the last week. 

The anecdote: A woman stopped attending a church group because, though she liked the group and its activities, she clashed often with the leader of the group. In the end, she attributed it to differing personalities and left. 

The statement: Recently, a church leader told me (I’m paraphrasing), “This church has never known unity. It’s just that the causes of disunity were different than they are now.” 

We read it on the first evening of a pastors’ retreat three weeks ago. There we were, in the magnificent setting of King’s Fold, having had a full day and very meaningful engagement with one another. To end the day, each day, we went through a reading and meditation exercise called “Compline” (from the Latin word for “complete” in reference to the completion of the waking day) which has a long history in Christian tradition. On that evening, we read these  words: 

All of this is good news to me and I enjoy telling you about it, even if it really isn’t the same for you. These things are a big deal in my life and easily shared. I appreciate you taking the time to read about them, even if you don’t share the same level of delight that I feel. 

It is almost two years since we moved out of our old house and into Tim and Laura’s  basement. Having lived there for more than forty years, there is nothing about that house that  I didn’t work on….

What are you facing this week? Grief? Fear? Doubt? Loss? Your own sinfulness or failure or inadequacy? Uncertainty?