Tag Archives: spiritual life

When Hummingbirds Argue

Jesus was a master storyteller. He loved tackling tough topics with stories about common things that every one could relate to. Lots of time he wouldn’t even try to explain what he was talking about. He would just tell his story about the crops, the wedding, the farmer or the feast and leave it there, trusting people to figure it out. It’s kind of funny when you read scripture knowing this because you can see how many people didn’t get his parables. This didn’t seem to bother Jesus at all. He just kept telling stories.

I like to preach like that. It’s especially fun when I’m not even sure about the full point of the story I’m telling. Sometimes, as the storyteller, you have to trust that the listener will glean more from the story than you could even imagine. It’s an exercise in trust.

Last week, I purposely spent the week alone, away from my usual distractions. I wanted to do this because I believe it is a good spiritual exercise to learn to be alone with yourself and your thoughts.  I also wanted to get some writing done for a couple of upcoming projects.

At first, I had to struggle with the usual discomfort of hanging out with myself. I found I talked to my dog a lot. She didn’t say much. After a while, I listened better to other things: the sound of the wind, a storm rolling in, the difference in the birds morning noises and how they sang in the evenings. After a day or so, I started paying more attention to the hummingbirds and the buzz they made when they whirred by.

Then, I got pretty good at noticing their chirping. Mostly, though, they just argued. They had access to three full feeders. There was plenty of room around the base of each feeder for 4 or 5 to land at once and feed (They do land, by the way). The hummingbirds would have no part of group dining. They dive bombed each other and argued all week about who should feast at any given time.

There was plenty of food and plenty of room for every hummingbird. Instead they argued. Soon some started posting on social media about how fed up they were with each other and how offended they were by the stance of their fellow hummingbirds. Video clips were shared of who was right and who was wrong. Whole news channels popped up around each differing hummingbird point of view. The leader type hummingbirds spoke out and made everything worse. Protests began. Outrage was high. Pretty soon they didn’t even treat each other like hummingbirds, but enemies.

All along, my dog and I just shook our heads and wondered why those silly hummingbirds couldn’t see The Truth more clearly.


Yes, Ashes

Today is Ash Wednesday.  In the Christian tradition it marks the beginning of Lent, the 40 days leading us to Easter. In our best seasons, Christians use this time for a spiritual spring cleaning; a time of added devotions, prayer and scripture reading.  Sometimes we give things up to remind us of what Christ gave up for us.  Sometimes we take things on as a way of embodying his life and ministry in our lives.

Some Christians do something very strange on Ash Wednesday; something we rarely allow ourselves to do otherwise.  We let ourselves come face to face with death.  We admit together, for just a moment, that we know we will all die.  We allow ourselves to be literally marked with ashes to symbolize the reality that we will all become ashes some day. Isn’t that the strangest thing, especially in our world of heavy denial, perpetual youth and surface living?

Four years ago this week, I lost a friend and a colleague suddenly.  Actually, a lot of us lost him together.  He was fine one day; working, happy, joking, laughing, planning, dreaming and serving God and, in the blink of an eye, gone.  He was Senior Pastor of our large congregation, a significant leader in the larger Methodist church, a truly good guy, father, husband, friend.  The loss was huge.  The grief ripples ran wide and deep.  They still do.

The days and weeks after his death are a blur to me: the prayer vigil we had that Saturday night; our Sunday morning worship services the day after his death where we knew worship needed to somehow go on without him; his large funeral the following Friday with thousands attending; his birthday shortly after that.  And then, Ash Wednesday, just a week or so later.

I don’t recall exactly what we said during that Ash Wednesday service. I know we let the familiar Christian rituals carry us through. We marked one another with ashes. We faced death only this time, it was painfully, excruciatingly staring back at us.  Yes, you will all die, of course.  But then, this, through the ritual, through the ashes, this Word, “So live, live for Me.”

Somehow, some way, through God’s grace and mercy and resurrecting love, we have.  We will.

I miss my friend. But what I know is this, he was well acquainted with the truth of Ash Wednesday.  He knew about the ashes. He trusted God fully in life and in death. I just know what he would say to us today if he could.  “Yes, ashes. Of course you will all die, that’s the point.  So, live.”

Four Gears

I’m not a car person.  I love having a car.  I like getting from point a to point b.  I’m just not that into cars.  I don’t pay attention to things my car is doing or not doing.  I know, that’s bad.  I don’t know what kind of tires I have or if it needs an oil change or inspecting.  But I am usually aware of what gear I have it in.  I know Park from Drive, for example.

 In a devotional book by Richard Swenson, M.D., A Minute of Margin, he writes that the healthiest lifestyle has four gears.  Park: for contemplation, rest and renewal.  Low: for relationships, family and friends. No hurry, just quality.  Drive: this is normal, productive speed–we use this for work, for exercise, for cleaning the house.  Overdrive: for times that require extra effort and energy–like a big event, a deadline or something unusual, like a family member in the hospital.

Here’s the problem, most of us, because we have no space (margin) in our lives, are living just about full time in overdrive. We think it is normal.  It is not normal.  It is not good for us.  It is not good for our relationships.  We think it is awesome to be super-productive.  It is not.  It is not how God intended us to live.

Recently, because of the way events came together for me, I experienced 10 days of overdrive.  Everything I was doing was good.  Some of the things I was doing were exceptionally good.  However, as I paid attention to my body during this time of overdrive, she was not happy.  She broke out in hives.  She hurt.  She got cranky.  She’s still tired. 

These last three days, I parked.  I was a little productive here and there.  But mostly I parked. 

Dr. Swenson writes, Our cars are not meant to race at high speeds continuously–the engines would burn up.  Neither are our bodies or spirits meant to race continuously….Discover where you keep your clutch, and change gears often. Go fast and hard with God’s blessing, but only for appropriate activities….The slow lane in life is just as important as the fast lane–commit to spending more time there. (A Minute of Margin).