You Can’t Be Negative When Saying, “Thank You”

(Note: This was first written for my church newsletter in November 2019.)

“Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” -1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 (emphasis mine)

As I mentioned in my newsletter column last month, I’ve been spending a lot of time talking with people and thinking about how to counteract the negativity, fear, and division we are seeing in our world today. I’ve also been looking for simple “life hacks,” or easy daily practices, to help in concrete ways. If the opposite of faith is fear, then overcoming this negativity is a spiritual exercise.

As we head into the month of November, the most celebrated holiday of this month can be one of those life hacks: thanksgiving. 

A quote that has always stuck with me comes from The Apology of Justin Martyr, in which Justin, one of the earliest church leaders, writes, “Christians are people who are always giving thanks.” When we are giving thanks, it is nearly impossible to be afraid or angry. When we are grateful, it almost automatically turns our eyes to God who is the source of every good thing. 

I know many people in recent years who have started a thankfulness journal in November, writing down or sharing a different thing every day for which they are thankful. By doing this on a regular basis, we actually train our brains to look for good things around us and focus less on negative things. (There’s even brain science to back this up, but I don’t have a reference for you.)

So I’m planning to do the same this year, sharing every day something for which I’m grateful and invite you to join me. I’ll be sharing on facebook, where you can share with me, or tell me in person whenever I may see you. (For an added challenge, join me in taking no freebies. Whatever the first five things that come to mind right now are can’t be used.)

May thanksgiving become a natural way of life for us all and a tool for us to Share the Love of Jesus Christ with All People. And as we do, know that I give thanks for you, my siblings in Christ, for your faith and witness. 

In God’s Amazing Grace,

Pastor Ari

P.S. I found a great blog with Biblical memes about gratitude you can share or use for inspiration. You can find it here.

"And I am thankful that I'm incapable of doing any good on my own." -Caedmon's Call, "Thankful"

Where To Start...

On Maundy Thursday (the Thursday before Easter), the worship service in my tradition begins with the sermon. In explaining this change, the worship reference book* says, "The relocation of the sermon enables the preacher to deal with the various aspects of the theme of Jesus' love as a background for the entire service." In other words, we start with Jesus' love because everything in this worship is about Jesus' love.

As I read that this year, it gave me two thoughts.

First, that is a good summary for Lutheran theology. Jesus' love is the background for everything. Because salvation/eternal life/reconciliation is a gift from God, God's love and grace is the beginning of and background to everything we believe and do. Nothing begins without God's love.

That led to my second thought: what if I tried to live with that thought always in mind?

• My day begins because of Jesus' love. 
• I will begin this email with Jesus' love. 
• Jesus' love will be in the background of this difficult conversation. 
• How is Jesus' love in the background of this meeting? Of this meal with loved ones?
• I will write this blog with Jesus' love...

This week I'm playing around with what that looks like for me. How about you? How would treating Jesus' love as the beginning and background to all you do change how you speak, think, and act (or react)? 

From the Gray,

Pastor Ari

"Let's start at the very beginning, a very good place to start." -The Sound of Music, "Do Re Mi"

*(Lutheran Book of Worship: Ministers Desk Edition for anyone who cares.)

Setting the Table of God

This past Sunday, through one of those situations that happens from time to time, my congregation found ourselves without our usual communion bread for worship. We have a wonderful team of volunteers who make homemade bread for us every week, but last week, none showed up. Thankfully, we keep a box of wafers around just in case and we pulled them out for the holy meal this day.

For anyone who isn't familiar with communion wafers, they are thin, tasteless discs about an inch in diameter that are engineered to dissolve quickly on the tongue and have a shelf life of about one hundred years. I jokingly refer to them as "crispy Christs," but for many people who grew up in the church in the twentieth century, these wafers were the norm for years.

For kids at Martin Luther Church, though, they are not.

This fact became clear during communion. Several appeared puzzled. One young person audibly said, "ugh" when I handed him the body of Christ. Another looked at it with a confused expression and then handed it to his mother.

At the time, I chuckled to myself over their honest reactions. As I thought about it later, though, I realized there was more than a "kids will be kids" truth to their reaction. They came expecting good food at communion -- and why shouldn't they? If "this is the Lord's table" (which I say every week), and our Lord is generous and loving, why shouldn't we expect good food at God's table? If the Lord's Supper is meant to be a "foretaste of the feast to come," I think fresh bread and a decent cabernet is a better representation of that feast than stale wafers and Manischewitz.

Going beyond the quality of communion, I think the same could be said about other aspects of church as well. Do we participate half-heartedly in worship? Do we allow clutter and disfunction to persist in our church? Do we serve weak coffee and stale cookies? (Seriously, why can't more churches make a decent cup of coffee?) Or do we offer our best as a community to both regulars and guests as a reflection of the great gift we've received in Christ?

Now, giving our best isn't the same as being perfect, but I believe we should act as though what we are doing matters to us and furthermore, we want it to matter to those around us, too. How do we set the table of our church on Sunday and our lives during the week so that people come to expect the best of God when they gather there?

From the Gray,

Pastor Ari

“I know you’re supposed to be my steering wheel, not just my spare tire.” -Arrested Development, “Tennessee”

What I Learned at the Grand Canyon

Last month, I found myself standing on the rim of the Grand Canyon for the first time in my life. And it taught me something about Christian stewardship.

For vacation this year, my family took an epic road trip through the Southwest that included this amazing natural wonder. It's hard to overstate the enormity of the canyon. I frequently felt as though my eyes were playing tricks on me because my brain couldn't process the scale of what was in front of me.

On my last day there, I stood looking at the canyon and reflecting on the history of turning this area into a national park. As I looked at the billions of years of history laid out in front of me, it struck me that the very idea of anyone "owning" something like this was comical. It's been at work for so much longer than any one human life (or even all human life) that to think it can be controlled is silly. All we can do is to appreciate it, protect it for the sake of all people, and pass it along to the next generation.

It was in that moment that I found a new appreciation for the Christian concept of stewardship.

Stewardship is a common word in churches, and it often gets used to mean "give money so we can pay the bills." This is not what we are meant to think, however.

Classically, the "steward" was a servant tasked with overseeing the house of a master. The steward didn't own the house or goods, but was responsible for caring for and preserving the house and goods. For Christians, we start from the assumption that "the earth is the Lord's and all that is in it" (Psalm 24:1). Everything we own, even our talents, passions, and opportunities, are all from God. We don't own them, but are tasked with caring for and using them in ways that align with the Master's vision.

It can be easy to be distracted by thinking about what we own, what we want, or what we "deserve." We can be motivated, stressed, or obsessed by these thoughts. But as I looked out at the Grand Canyon, I was aware of how small I am in the great scheme of the world. Compared to the history of God and the earth, the thought of "owning" my home, my salary, and my talents seems just as laughable as owning the Grand Canyon. I've been entrusted these things for a while, but they will pass to others at some point. Will I hoard them temporarily or steward them on behalf of their true owner? Like the Grand Canyon, all I can really do is appreciate it, steward it for the sake of all people, and pass it along to the next generation.

From the Gray,

Pastor Ari

“In a world where what we want is only what we want until it’s ours.” -Train, “Calling All Angels”

Jesus Christ, Brain Scientist

Two thousand years ago, Jesus said an awful lot about helping others, being kind and generous, being more concerned about others than yourself, and to be wary of wealth because it can get in the way of our relationship with God. (Normally I'd link to some Bible verses here, but seriously, just pick any page in the four gospels and you'll probably find him talking about one of these things.)

And for two thousand years, we in the church have sought to follow these commands in various ways and for various reasons. Some follow Jesus' words to earn God's favor (or avoid wrath! [neither of which I endorse]), some do so as a public witness of faith, some do so because they think Jesus' words are just a wise way to live, and so on. We sometimes disagree on how best to love our neighbor or feed the poor, but most Christians take Jesus' words seriously and try in our own ways to live them out.

What's occurred to me recently is that modern science is starting to back up a lot of his words about how to live as good for happiness, good for health, and good for society.

• Michael Norton has research that shows we can buy happiness...by spending money on others. 
• Shawn Achor says that spending time doing kind things for others, giving thanks, and meditating (prayer?) are keys to wiring our brains for happiness. 
• Brene Brown has shown that embracing our imperfections (confessing sin, maybe?) and living with vulnerability is core to joy, love, and stronger relationships. 
• In the documentary "Happy," several researchers say their studies show humans are happier in forgetting themselves and helping others than they are trying to make themselves happy. 
• And there are growing studies that suggest that large amounts of wealth are linked to people being less empathetic, less ethical, and less generous (scroll just past halfway to find the studies cited), but not any happier.

I think almost any person would list having a purpose and personal happiness as core goals for their life. Ironically, this research is suggesting that the best way to find them is to stop thinking about yourself and focus on serving, loving, and giving and happiness and purpose will naturally follow. Sounds a little bit like, "Those who lose their life for my sake will find it" (Luke 9:24).

Maybe when Jesus shared all these words with us years ago, he wasn't just letting us know what God thinks of things or setting up religious standards for Christianity. Perhaps he was also giving us insight into how we are created to live, in essence saying, "You should be loving, forgiving, and generous because your brain and body is hardwired to react positively to those things."

I am not an expert in all of this science and I know this is a large leap to make, but if we are made in the image of God and God is loving, generous, and compassionate, it makes sense to me that those traits would be indelibly marked within us.

I'm excited to see what else this growing field of science might reveal to us, because for all those who've ever told me that Jesus' words about love and compassion don't work "in the real world," the real world of our brains is starting to look more like the Kingdom of God.

From the Gray,
Pastor Ari

“'Cause we are miracles wrapped up in chemicals.” -Gary Go, "Wonderful"

Happiness and Simplicity (Addenda to Last Week's Blog)

Last week I wrote a blog article about the documentary "Tiny" and how the subjects of the film had found happiness by simplifying their lives. Since writing that blog post, I've continued to mull over the themes and ideas in the movie. And as I've continued thinking about these things, it just so happens that I've stumbled across a couple of related nuggets on the interwebs this week.

One of the inevitable questions that arises from pondering the happiness of living in what is roughly the size of a walk-in closet is "What is happiness, anyway?" I mean, this is something we all strive for and we are bombarded with advice throughout our lives about how to earn it or buy it or make it or find it, but what is happiness in the first place? Is it a state of being? An action? Is it even reasonable to believe it should be our default emotion?

An article shared by a pastor friend on facebook this week suggests we may have our assumptions about happiness all wrong. The article, titled "5 Scientific Reasons Your Idea of Happiness is Wrong," from Cracked.com can be found here. (Yes, I realize that Cracked.com isn't exactly a reputable news source, but, hey... internet.) Knowing your time is precious and attention is short (at least if you're like me), here's the Cliff's Notes version of the article: 1) for most of human history, it was assumed that happiness is like luck, meaning it just happened or it didn't, 2) you physically cannot feel happy for very long, and 3) having lots of possessions, having lots of choices, and making personal happiness a major goal in life all tend to decrease happiness.

The article's scientific advice for being happy? "[S]top worrying about being happy and instead divert your energy to nurturing the social bonds you have with other people." So stop thinking about myself and work at loving others? Why does that sound familiar? (All this reminded me of this great 10-minute TED talk by Michael Norton on "How to Buy Happiness." Hint: you can't spend it on yourself.)

The second nugget I found this week was a posting by a facebook friend who is decluttering her life through an online activity. There is a group on facebook that is challenging people to simplify their lives by going through closets and drawers and recycling, giving away, or throwing out at least one thing every day. There was a game element to it (something like electronics on Fridays or 12 things on the 12th), but I can't seem to find the official page anymore. I'm going to contact my friend for the name and I'll post it in the comments. (Or if anyone else knows what it is, please do the same.) It seemed like a happy coincidence to find that just days after writing my last blog article.

As for me, I haven't jumped whole hog onto the tiny house or trash something everyday band wagon yet, but I did take the initiative over the weekend to clean out my tupperware cabinet of mismatched or broken things. That felt like a big accomplishment and now I feel happy every time I open that cabinet. At least for a moment.

"Clap along if you know what happiness is to you." -Pharrell Williams, "Happy"

Big Insights from Living Small: A Reflection on the Film "Tiny"

Tonight I took advantage of some free time to watch a documentary called "Tiny." The film follows a 30 year old on his quest to build a tiny house under 200 square feet and profiles several people (including couples and a family) who have built and moved into similar-sized homes. (If you're interested, it's currently streaming on Netflix.)

I've mentioned before that I'm interested in the concept of design and I've been fascinated with the way design intersects with architecture and living spaces in particular to create spaces that can be simple, beautiful and functional. Therefore, I tossed this movie into my Netflix queue as soon as I discovered it. (Have I mentioned that I also love documentaries?)

As I was watching the documentary, however, I was surprised by the comments made by the people who had moved into tiny homes. Time and again, they made comments about how happy they were living in a small space. One man talked about the freedom it gave him because he didn't need to spend so much time and money cleaning and doing maintenance on his house. Others talked about how the small space focused them into deciding what was really important for them. (Some had moved into tiny homes after the Great Recession led them to lose much of what they had or reevaluate what they wanted from life.)

And then one woman in Olympia, Washington, made a comment that really brought out the spiritual theme that was running (unintentionally?) through the whole movie when she said that our culture doesn't give us many opportunities to practice humility and gratitude, but building a tiny house from scratch did. She had to learn to ask for help in building and to live with less, which made her more aware of what she did have.

Humility? Gratitude? Freedom? Is this a documentary on architecture or spirituality?

Our culture is built largely upon consumption and collection. The more we own/possess/control, the more successful and enviable we are perceived to be. Many of us shake our heads at this fact, but we all participate in it in some way.

Watching the movie made me think back to my first tiny apartment and how I thought if I just had a second bedroom I'd be happy. My second apartment had two bedrooms and I wished I had a dishwasher. My third apartment had a dishwasher and I wished it had a laundry room. And so on.

I like to believe that I live fairly simply, but I was amazed at the joy and satisfaction demonstrated by these people who had given up much of what my younger self thought would make my life perfect precisely because they'd given them up.

As I watched "Tiny," I couldn't help but think of a quote attributed to St. Augustine: "From what you own, set aside what you need to survive. The rest belongs to God." As I watched these people happily live in 200 square feet, it made me question exactly what it is I "need to survive." I can sit in my living room and see more things than I'd like to admit that I don't use, need, or even want any more. And if humility, gratitude, and joy (as expressed by these tiny home owners) are indeed spiritual fruits, then does having less space to live paradoxically make more space for God?

“If I die before I learn to speak, can money pay for all the days I lived awake but half asleep?” -Primitive Radio Gods, “Standing Outside a Broken Phone Booth with Money in my Hand”