I'd like to begin this contribution by recommending that you not fly Delta airlines. That's how I would have begun if I had written this two weekends ago. After all, they booked us on three separate flights all of which were cancelled before sending us somewhere besides where we needed to go. It all worked out in the end, but the beginning and middle were fairly annoying. Delta is a problem airline.
That's what I'd have said before I flew again the following weekend. Then I'd have added that United isn't a great idea either. Three flights booked, three flights cancelled, home a day late (though not a dollar short if you're comforted by $72 worth of meal vouchers). I might also have suggested that you avoid any trip that takes you through Dulles airport. It makes Midway seem effecient and organized.
At that point I could have gone on to tell you about how I finally lost it and chewed out a helpless flight attendant for everything that was keeping me away from home. I could have shared how the Nathan's hot dog guy got a punch to the face when he said my meal voucher didn't cover two hot dogs. But someone saved me from all that. Her name was Lorraine Controis.
I should begin by telling you that her last name is pronounced Cohn-twah and not Cahn-troys. She'd want you to know that. She is very proud of her last name. After all, a very loving and supporting husband of some 60 years gave her that name. And that loving and supporting husband passed away that week. And my first interaction with Lorraine was when my wife, Rachel, heard her say "I'm lost, will someone please help me."
Someone did, and that someone was helped by Lorraine as much as Lorraine was helped by him. For the next 36 hours, Lorraine stuck to me like glue. She told stories of family and of her husband, she tried not to cry and cried anyway and we held hands and cried together. She used my cell phone to call home and I made sure she stayed at the same hotel as we did when it looked like we'd be spending the night outside Washington D.C.
In the end, Lorraine got home just fine, and we were relieved to get the phone call that assured us of that. In the beginning and middle, Lorraine's lostness helped to remind me what was really important. We formed a little community and we kept each other from getting further lost along the way.
Today I thank God for cancelled flights and for people like Lorraine Controis. I thank God for her husband's legacy of kindness that inspires me to love my wife even more. I thank God for opportunities to help the lost and reminders that I am not lost, I have simply lost focus. I thank God for little communities and the help that they provide. I thank God for His Son, Jesus, who showed us to "look not only to our own interests, but also the interests of others." I thank Him for showing me that is the only way to live.
So fly the friendly skies, folks. And make sure to keep them friendly.
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
Monday, December 20, 2004
What A Pacifer Does (and what it cannot do)
1. A rubber or plastic nipple or teething ring for a baby to suck or chew on.
2. Something or someone that brings peace.
It may be hard to believe, but these two definitions fit the same word. In the American English Dictionary, these are the definitions under the word pacifier.
The first night my son, Harry, came home from the hospital all he did was scream. He screamed and screamed and screamed some more. He screamed so much I thought my head might explode. My wife, Rachel (a speech pathologist) had heard that using a pacifier before the baby has really taken to the breast can make nursing more difficult. Because of this, she was hesitant to try the pacifier. After the second straight hour of crying, we decided to go for it.
The results were incredible. Silence. My son was indeed pacified.
That's what pacifiers do. They pacify. They bring a moment's peace. And they can be very effective, as long as they are used for that purpose.
The downfall of the pacifier is that the peace only lasts a moment. Maybe two moments. Never more than an hour's worth.
But what if the pacifier was what we turned to whenever Harry cried. Any time he needed to get clean, we gave him the pacifier. Any time he needed to be fed, we gave him the pacifier. Any time he was hurt, we gave him the pacifier. Any time he needed to be changed, we gave him the pacifier.
You know the answer as well as I do. It wouldn't work. A pacifier won't make him clean, it won't feed him, it won't heal his pain or change him. It can only pacify him temporarily. Only an idiot would try to use a pacifier for anything more.
Which proves that we're a bunch of idiots. We feel pain and we turn to alchohol. We feel hungry and we turn to sex. We need to get clean and we hope that good behavior will get us there. We want to be changed and we reach for the right clothes, the right car, the right friends. And we stay hungry and dirty and needy. But, for awhile, we're pacified.
The devil's hope is to keep us pacified. His hope is that if he starts us young on the pacifier, we'll forget where to go when we feel empty. Our only hope is to remember what a pacifier does, and what it can never do.
If we want real change and real fullfillment we have to turn to the one that brings real peace. You see there are two kinds of pacifiers. One is just a weak imitation of what we really need. The other is someone that brings peace. And not just for a moment.
All of us get to that place where we're running on empty. If we ever hope to get full, we have to turn to the source of living water, the one who is the bread of life, the one who lives within us and sustains us; Jesus Christ.
2. Something or someone that brings peace.
It may be hard to believe, but these two definitions fit the same word. In the American English Dictionary, these are the definitions under the word pacifier.
The first night my son, Harry, came home from the hospital all he did was scream. He screamed and screamed and screamed some more. He screamed so much I thought my head might explode. My wife, Rachel (a speech pathologist) had heard that using a pacifier before the baby has really taken to the breast can make nursing more difficult. Because of this, she was hesitant to try the pacifier. After the second straight hour of crying, we decided to go for it.
The results were incredible. Silence. My son was indeed pacified.
That's what pacifiers do. They pacify. They bring a moment's peace. And they can be very effective, as long as they are used for that purpose.
The downfall of the pacifier is that the peace only lasts a moment. Maybe two moments. Never more than an hour's worth.
But what if the pacifier was what we turned to whenever Harry cried. Any time he needed to get clean, we gave him the pacifier. Any time he needed to be fed, we gave him the pacifier. Any time he was hurt, we gave him the pacifier. Any time he needed to be changed, we gave him the pacifier.
You know the answer as well as I do. It wouldn't work. A pacifier won't make him clean, it won't feed him, it won't heal his pain or change him. It can only pacify him temporarily. Only an idiot would try to use a pacifier for anything more.
Which proves that we're a bunch of idiots. We feel pain and we turn to alchohol. We feel hungry and we turn to sex. We need to get clean and we hope that good behavior will get us there. We want to be changed and we reach for the right clothes, the right car, the right friends. And we stay hungry and dirty and needy. But, for awhile, we're pacified.
The devil's hope is to keep us pacified. His hope is that if he starts us young on the pacifier, we'll forget where to go when we feel empty. Our only hope is to remember what a pacifier does, and what it can never do.
If we want real change and real fullfillment we have to turn to the one that brings real peace. You see there are two kinds of pacifiers. One is just a weak imitation of what we really need. The other is someone that brings peace. And not just for a moment.
All of us get to that place where we're running on empty. If we ever hope to get full, we have to turn to the source of living water, the one who is the bread of life, the one who lives within us and sustains us; Jesus Christ.
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Birth Announcement
Harrison Everett Smith was born 9-22-04 at 6:07 p.m.
He weighed 6lbs 13oz
He was 19in long
He has reddish blonde hair
He is beautiful and perfect.
I am tired and content.
He's sleeping. I should be too. Peace to all of you.
He weighed 6lbs 13oz
He was 19in long
He has reddish blonde hair
He is beautiful and perfect.
I am tired and content.
He's sleeping. I should be too. Peace to all of you.
Tuesday, September 14, 2004
This World Is Not My Home
“You know that point in your life when you realize the house you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? That idea of home is gone. Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people who miss the same imaginary place.”
So spoke Andrew Largeman, the fictional main character in Zach Braff’s directorial debut, Garden State. Largeman (also played by Braff) is a twentysomething actor who has returned home to New Jersey for his mother’s funeral. The film is about the time he spends there, the people he connects (or reconnects) with, and the attempts he makes to feel at home again. I found myself riveted through the entire film, rooting for Largeman to make a connection that would mean something, to find a place where he could feel at home.
When the connection was finally made, I was disappointed. His connection comes (as should not surprise anyone who watches movies) in the form of a woman. An amazing woman, no doubt, brought alive through the talents of actress Natalie Portman. This young woman’s name is Sam, and she meets Andrew in a hospital, where she is being treated for epilepsy. Their mutual brokenness draws them to one another and, in just four short days, Andrew has found a soulmate in Sam. As the film draws to a close, Andrew speaks these words, “Safe…when I’m with you I feel safe…like I’m home.” It is the sentiment that says to another “wherever you are, that’s where I want to be…wherever you are, that’s my home.” To be fair, this wasn’t a “you complete me” look at love. This love had depth, and it made me glad for these two imaginary folks I had come to call friends in just two short hours; but it made me sad for them as well.
All throughout the film, Andrew Largeman acts as an excellent example of the everyman on the journey of life. His struggles are our struggles, his search is our search; and so it pained me to see him fall short of his goal. When he spoke of this imaginary place that we all long for, I wanted to cry out “It’s real! That place is real!” When he finally found his “home”, his “safe” place in Sam, I wanted to warn him that this wasn’t the relationship either of them should call home. The home they were looking for is found in a greater relationship; that place we all miss is the Kingdom of God.
Hebrews 11:13-16 speaks of a transient people who are looking for their true home. It ends by stating that this home is found in God, in the Kingdom that is coming and has come. In other words, our home is the place where God resides, wherever He is, that’s our home. Earlier in the same chapter, we are reminded of the faith of Abraham, who was called by God to leave and “go to the place that I will show you.” Abraham showed his faith by packing up and, while living in the world, never making himself at home. The people of God are defined by their desire for something more than this, by their longing to be where God is and their willingness to follow Him wherever He might go.
Christ calls his people to the same place and the same faith. Just as Abraham is called to “leave” and “go”, so we are called to “repent and believe”. When we do so, we begin a great adventure. We become a transient people, longing for that other place. We live “in the world, but not of the world” because we know “this world is not our home.” It is for that reason that we refuse to make ourselves at home. We refuse to get wrapped up in the things of this world. We refuse to get too comfortable with this world's institutions and government, principalities and powers because we know that we are not of this world, and that a better home is being prepared for us. Jesus said to his followers “I am going to prepare a place for you. If it were not so, I would have told you.”
That doesn't mean we're meant to disconnect from one another and coast along in expectation of heaven. What we are meant to do is to form our connection in Christ and to find our place in His Kingdom. This is the connection that lasts, this is the place that is eternal. Through Him, we find connections with one another that are stronger than any we could have formed ourselves. In Him, we are at home.
In the gospel of John, chapter 14, Jesus says it this way, “Let not your hearts be troubled; believe in God, believe also in me.” He goes on to speak of a place prepared, of a home with many rooms, and of the promise that where he is, there we will also be. Jesus understands our longing for home, and he has created one for us. Our home is the place where he resides. It is with him and in him that we feel at home. But will we know the way to get home? Will we worry, as Abraham must have, about how we will get to place we are going? In our case, we have the advantage of knowing Christ. When Thomas asks how we will know the way home, Jesus responds, “I am the way.” Through the gospels this message is repeated, Christ is the way, the door, and the vine. He is the connection that we are all looking for.
But Christ’s message does not end there. He is, indeed, the way home, but there are steps we must take to get there. As chapter 14 continues, Jesus explains what these steps will be. In verse 11, he says that we must believe in him. In verse 15, he says that we must keep his commandments. In verse 23, he says that we must keep his word. But all through this chapter, the idea of home is present. For us to have a home in Christ, we must allow him to make himself at home in us. Though faith is being sure of what we do not see, we will see Christ, because he will live in us; if we keep his word, we will be loved by the Father and the Son and they will come to us and make their home with us.
Andrew Largeman’s journey is our journey, his search is our search; but his final discovery is not our final hope. While we can draw strength from earthly relationships, we know that our home is in Christ. Our longing can only be satisfied when we trust and obey, leave and go, repent and believe. The kingdom of God is at hand, and we must trust in the one who rules over it to make for us a home. We must keep our eyes on the final destination as a way of keeping our focus while here on earth. This does not mean that we keep a pie in the sky attitude towards reality, but that we allow our reality to be reshaped by the one who calls us and shapes us in His image. This reshaping cannot just be something we say, it must be true reformation; it must change the way we believe, the way we act, and the way we speak.
Hebrews 11:14 says that people of faith speak as those “who are seeking a homeland.” Too often, we have made ourselves at home in this world, allowing it to shape us as long as it promises to keep us safe. But we will never be safe here, we should never get too comfortable, because this can never be our home. If it is, then it is the place that we will grasp onto and the things it offers will be the things we struggle to keep. But if we know that this world is not our home, than we can put the phrase “you can’t take it with you” into practice.
In the year 2000, well-known rock band U2 released an album titled “All That You Can’t Leave Behind”. Lead singer and longtime Christian, Bono, keeps home and heaven as a continued theme throughout the album. On one particular song, “Walk On”, he warns of trying to make a home in two worlds. He speaks of the things we try and make for ourselves in order to give ourselves meaning. In one strung out cry he shouts “All that you fashion, all that you make, all that you build, all that you break” and then “all that you sense, all that you scheme, all you dress up, and all that you see” warning his listeners that these things can become “all that you can’t leave behind.” His answer to this predicament is that “home is where the heart is” and that “love is not the easy thing, but is the only baggage that you can bring.”
They are wise words, and they reflect the truth of Hebrews 11. Hebrews 11 that speaks in terms of faith and hope, but always knows that “the greatest of these is love.” If we believe in Christ, and have faith in him, put our hope in him, live as he lived and love as he loved, we will find our home in him.
So spoke Andrew Largeman, the fictional main character in Zach Braff’s directorial debut, Garden State. Largeman (also played by Braff) is a twentysomething actor who has returned home to New Jersey for his mother’s funeral. The film is about the time he spends there, the people he connects (or reconnects) with, and the attempts he makes to feel at home again. I found myself riveted through the entire film, rooting for Largeman to make a connection that would mean something, to find a place where he could feel at home.
When the connection was finally made, I was disappointed. His connection comes (as should not surprise anyone who watches movies) in the form of a woman. An amazing woman, no doubt, brought alive through the talents of actress Natalie Portman. This young woman’s name is Sam, and she meets Andrew in a hospital, where she is being treated for epilepsy. Their mutual brokenness draws them to one another and, in just four short days, Andrew has found a soulmate in Sam. As the film draws to a close, Andrew speaks these words, “Safe…when I’m with you I feel safe…like I’m home.” It is the sentiment that says to another “wherever you are, that’s where I want to be…wherever you are, that’s my home.” To be fair, this wasn’t a “you complete me” look at love. This love had depth, and it made me glad for these two imaginary folks I had come to call friends in just two short hours; but it made me sad for them as well.
All throughout the film, Andrew Largeman acts as an excellent example of the everyman on the journey of life. His struggles are our struggles, his search is our search; and so it pained me to see him fall short of his goal. When he spoke of this imaginary place that we all long for, I wanted to cry out “It’s real! That place is real!” When he finally found his “home”, his “safe” place in Sam, I wanted to warn him that this wasn’t the relationship either of them should call home. The home they were looking for is found in a greater relationship; that place we all miss is the Kingdom of God.
Hebrews 11:13-16 speaks of a transient people who are looking for their true home. It ends by stating that this home is found in God, in the Kingdom that is coming and has come. In other words, our home is the place where God resides, wherever He is, that’s our home. Earlier in the same chapter, we are reminded of the faith of Abraham, who was called by God to leave and “go to the place that I will show you.” Abraham showed his faith by packing up and, while living in the world, never making himself at home. The people of God are defined by their desire for something more than this, by their longing to be where God is and their willingness to follow Him wherever He might go.
Christ calls his people to the same place and the same faith. Just as Abraham is called to “leave” and “go”, so we are called to “repent and believe”. When we do so, we begin a great adventure. We become a transient people, longing for that other place. We live “in the world, but not of the world” because we know “this world is not our home.” It is for that reason that we refuse to make ourselves at home. We refuse to get wrapped up in the things of this world. We refuse to get too comfortable with this world's institutions and government, principalities and powers because we know that we are not of this world, and that a better home is being prepared for us. Jesus said to his followers “I am going to prepare a place for you. If it were not so, I would have told you.”
That doesn't mean we're meant to disconnect from one another and coast along in expectation of heaven. What we are meant to do is to form our connection in Christ and to find our place in His Kingdom. This is the connection that lasts, this is the place that is eternal. Through Him, we find connections with one another that are stronger than any we could have formed ourselves. In Him, we are at home.
In the gospel of John, chapter 14, Jesus says it this way, “Let not your hearts be troubled; believe in God, believe also in me.” He goes on to speak of a place prepared, of a home with many rooms, and of the promise that where he is, there we will also be. Jesus understands our longing for home, and he has created one for us. Our home is the place where he resides. It is with him and in him that we feel at home. But will we know the way to get home? Will we worry, as Abraham must have, about how we will get to place we are going? In our case, we have the advantage of knowing Christ. When Thomas asks how we will know the way home, Jesus responds, “I am the way.” Through the gospels this message is repeated, Christ is the way, the door, and the vine. He is the connection that we are all looking for.
But Christ’s message does not end there. He is, indeed, the way home, but there are steps we must take to get there. As chapter 14 continues, Jesus explains what these steps will be. In verse 11, he says that we must believe in him. In verse 15, he says that we must keep his commandments. In verse 23, he says that we must keep his word. But all through this chapter, the idea of home is present. For us to have a home in Christ, we must allow him to make himself at home in us. Though faith is being sure of what we do not see, we will see Christ, because he will live in us; if we keep his word, we will be loved by the Father and the Son and they will come to us and make their home with us.
Andrew Largeman’s journey is our journey, his search is our search; but his final discovery is not our final hope. While we can draw strength from earthly relationships, we know that our home is in Christ. Our longing can only be satisfied when we trust and obey, leave and go, repent and believe. The kingdom of God is at hand, and we must trust in the one who rules over it to make for us a home. We must keep our eyes on the final destination as a way of keeping our focus while here on earth. This does not mean that we keep a pie in the sky attitude towards reality, but that we allow our reality to be reshaped by the one who calls us and shapes us in His image. This reshaping cannot just be something we say, it must be true reformation; it must change the way we believe, the way we act, and the way we speak.
Hebrews 11:14 says that people of faith speak as those “who are seeking a homeland.” Too often, we have made ourselves at home in this world, allowing it to shape us as long as it promises to keep us safe. But we will never be safe here, we should never get too comfortable, because this can never be our home. If it is, then it is the place that we will grasp onto and the things it offers will be the things we struggle to keep. But if we know that this world is not our home, than we can put the phrase “you can’t take it with you” into practice.
In the year 2000, well-known rock band U2 released an album titled “All That You Can’t Leave Behind”. Lead singer and longtime Christian, Bono, keeps home and heaven as a continued theme throughout the album. On one particular song, “Walk On”, he warns of trying to make a home in two worlds. He speaks of the things we try and make for ourselves in order to give ourselves meaning. In one strung out cry he shouts “All that you fashion, all that you make, all that you build, all that you break” and then “all that you sense, all that you scheme, all you dress up, and all that you see” warning his listeners that these things can become “all that you can’t leave behind.” His answer to this predicament is that “home is where the heart is” and that “love is not the easy thing, but is the only baggage that you can bring.”
They are wise words, and they reflect the truth of Hebrews 11. Hebrews 11 that speaks in terms of faith and hope, but always knows that “the greatest of these is love.” If we believe in Christ, and have faith in him, put our hope in him, live as he lived and love as he loved, we will find our home in him.
Thursday, September 2, 2004
The Question of God
No long post (although I'd love to hear comments from other readers), just want to recommend a book; The Question of God by Dr. Armand M. Nicholi, Jr.
Excellent stuff. A must read.
Excellent stuff. A must read.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)