Do You Wonder Where Awe Went?

The reading from the Psalter for this last Sunday in 2008 comes to us in the form of a Psalm of praise from Psalm 148.

Psalm 148 begins, "Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord from the heavens; praise him in the heights! Praise him, all his angels; praise him, all his host! Praise him, sun and moon; praise him, all you shining stars! Praise him, you highest heavens, and you waters above the heavens!" The author continues for another hundred and forty two words, filling ten verses with words of praise to a creative and sustaining God.

The author suggests, infers, and instructs that for God to be properly praised, everything (and every thing is listed), must be involved in active praise. All things animate and inanimate, heavenly and earthly, literally all of creation are invited to praise the living and life giving Lord.

For us it might seem strange to have the Psalmist suggest that plant, rocks, trees, animals, sun, moon, sky and water could praise right along with humanity. Yet the author did not differentiate. All these and more were God's creation and each had a part in creation's call to worship.

If we copied the Psalm writer we might say something like, "Let each of us praise God." With our televisions, and microwaves, with our cars, and boats, with our compact discs, and earphones, with our fitness machines and manicured lawns...let all of us praise God. The author intended for all of humanity to be aware that God is the creator and as creatures of God's creative act we are compelled to use all we have and all we are to offer praise and thanksgiving.

The intent of the author travels across time and touches us now with no less power if we would but allow. An appropriate thing to contemplate at year's end. An exciting way to live a life in a new year.

Dr. Joey K. McDonald
First United Methodist Church
4832 Tujunga Ave., No. Hollywood, CA 91601

Love Came Down at Christmas

REFLECTIONS
December 24, 2008

What is you earliest memory of Christmas? Mine is 1953. I was four years old and we lived in Winsted, Connecticut. Pushing six decades removed, the memories are still quite vivid. My slightly older sisters, Peggy and Kim teaching me to make snow angels, and pushing me in a sleigh. The water in the lake seeming imposing, lapping over the highway, as we drove to and from town. I have clear recollection of family car trips to New York so we could see Rockefeller Center, with its enormous Christmas tree and the shops filled with displays grand, and otherworldly to my young eyes. I remember stringing popcorn to put on the tree and not doing it well enough to be allowed to continue. Remember I was four.

The picture I have in my head of Christmas morning is first that it finally came. For the young it takes so long, where as when we mature it just seems it was a couple of months ago. We had just moved a few weeks earlier from Michigan so Mom and Dad had our presents in a moving container. Literally a barrel was opened and our presents were handed to us. I don’t remember the explanation in detail of how Santa knew we had moved; the presents were proof enough for me. I cannot recall a single gift, but I can tell you I experienced belonging, love and generosity. A truly gracious style of giving which my parents, Mary and Charles exhibited over and over again. Some things I still have; the Puch Burgmeister ten speed bike for my twelfth Christmas. The Craftsman tools I was given for my sixteenth birthday and Christmas. However, among the most treasured of gifts, is something that I gave, rather than received. The first gift I purchased for my mother with my own money was an amber candy dish. It had a cover and clear glass for accent. It cost $9.95 at Virginia’s Gift shop at Knott’s Berry Farm. When she died it came back to me. It wasn’t valuable or elegant, but it was hers and more important, occupied a prominent place in her living room for twenty-five years, so I am grateful to have it. I treasure it in some manner because it represents more than a days labor for me at that time, but mostly as any Momma’s boy can attest because my Mom liked it, kept it and showed it off.

The specific value of the gifts we give and receive at Christmas cannot be measured in cost or origin of purchase, but rather in the reception and ultimate appreciation of the gift. Sort of like the story of a gift coming in the form of a baby. The five star hotel was full, so the parents stayed in a stable, filling the animals feed trough with hay. With the bleating of animals and the must of the stable floor in our memories, we tell this story each Christmas. To remind us and to announce to the world, that in the end, love, not expense makes the value of the gift.

Dr. Joey K. McDonald
First United Methodist Church
4832 Tujunga Avenue, North Hollywood, CA 91601

Song of Hope And Love

REFLECTIONS
December 21, 2008

“There must be always remaining in every person’s life some place for the singing of angels–some place for that which in itself is breathlessly beautiful and by an inherent prerogative throwing all the rest of life into a new and created relatedness. Something that gathers up in itself all the freshets of experience from drab and commonplace areas of living and glows in one bright white light of penetrating beauty and meaning–then passes. The commonplace is shot through now with new glory–old burdens become lighter, deep and ancient wounds lose much of their old, old hurting. A crown is placed over our heads that for the rest of our lives we are trying to grow tall enough to wear. Despite all of the crassness of life, despite all of the hardness of life, despite all of the harsh discords of life, life is saved by the singing of angels.” (From The Mood of Christmas by Dr. Howard Thurman).

In Luke 1:39-45 and then 46-55 we find two stories which amplify Dr. Thurman’s text. The first finds Mary going to visit her cousin Elizabeth in the hill country of Judea. Mary calls a greeting as she enters and Elizabeth responds; “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb... for as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leaped for joy.” vv 43-44. In vv 46-55 we find the “Magnificat” where Mary praises God for the blessings bestowed upon her. The readings are familiar. Mary carries Jesus within her and Elizabeth, John the Baptist. The stories of Jesus and John were great, but not all that happened to them was. Their abuse and suffering surely scarred the hearts of Mary and Elizabeth. Yet the words of these mothers of our faith are those of praise to a God who gives hope and strength to all who seek.

At Christmas we are reminded that the grace and hope of God comes in the fragile package of the babe in a manger, but has great and enduring strength if we remember that hope is stronger than fear and love is more lasting than any care or curse we encounter. The key would be found in expressing this understanding. Perhaps what Mary and Elizabeth are telling us is that if we don’t see or hear the angels singing, we are called to join the song and thus become the angels.

Dr. Joey K. McDonald
First United Methodist Church
4832 Tujunga Avenue, North Hollywood, CA 91601

Between 1 and The One

REFLECTIONS
December 14, 2008

In the play Twelfth Night, William Shakespeare writes, “Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.” If we categorize, John the Baptist would fall into the third of these. His cousin was the son of Mary and Joseph and they could trace the lineage to the house of David, but John’s parents were just a couple of oldsters who counted him a late in life blessing. There was some talk of his being a distant relative of Elijah, but nobody knew for sure.

So, John went about his life in the hills outside of Jerusalem until he was drawn to the wilderness of the southern desert. It was here he experienced God in ways unimagined. He heard God say the law alone was not enough. For people could follow the letter of the law and remain fallen in spirit. People must turn away from those things which separate them from God. So John preached as he believed God had called him to, for people to change their ways and accept God. His existence was unusual for some, but the spirit of God moved and John had a following.

The inevitable questions came from those in authority. Who are you? And who sent you here? When he told them he wasn’t the Messiah, they asked if he was Elijah. He said he was not. They pressed, are you a prophet? “Not even a minor one,” he responded. They wondered why he was doing this unusual ministry with water, and he told them because God had called him to bless with the power of life giving water.

John was not born into a Royal Priesthood. He served in wild places wearing wild and ragged clothes and eating wild food. He did not seek recognition or acclaim. It came because of the power evident in his ministry.

When Jesus came to the Jordan River to be baptized; John knew he and the water were instruments. The greatness of God’s glory was beheld in the One on whom the water fell.

Dr. Joey K. McDonald
First United Methodist Church
4832 Tujunga Avenue, North Hollywood, CA 91601

How To Map Quest Comfort

REFLECTIONS
December 7, 2008

Isaiah 40:1-11 begins with the words “Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her that she has served her term, that her penalty is paid...” Here the prophet as a mouthpiece for God is sending a word of comfort and hope to those who had been sore oppressed by God for their misdeeds. Prophets in the Hebrew Scriptures came in two varieties. The ones who were House shills, paid by those in authority to say what people wanted to hear, and the likes of Isaiah and others, elected by God to tell the truth in the name of love no matter what. Little wonder that neither variety of Prophet was very popular. Isaiah served for God to guide, and goad the people into a life of faithfulness. Though this meant, at times, conflict in that he had to warn them of their sins and the impending punishment from God, it also was to remind them over and over again that God loved them, deeply, fully and completely. The acceptance of this fact was not immediate by the people, for it took Israel nearly one thousand years to cease idol worship. So comfort comes but at times not as quickly as we would like.

We live in a world of immediacy. With e-mail, text messaging, the Internet and cell phones, we are never far away from information or communication. All of these items and all of that technology in our homes and cars are meant to bring us convenience and comfort. This became especially clear to me a little more than a year ago when driving across the very large state of Texas. My son, Aaron, and I were headed home after a work team effort in Mississippi. Having put in a very long day behind the wheel, we were hungry and did not know whether to get off the road and take our chances at the next town or not. Aaron suggested we use the Global Positioning Satellite our rental car had. To my amazement we were able to locate a perfect choice in San Antonio which the G.P.S. guided us to with those gentle tones of “in sixteen point eight miles exit the freeway. I didn’t have to think, only drive carefully, a great comfort. A greater comfort still was finding good parking adjacent to the restaurant, then enjoying a great meal with my son before we journeyed on. I don’t think it is too much of an exaggeration to say that Texas seems twice as long as California. I will say this; long after that grueling drive, the comfort of that time spent with my Son in San Antonio lingers.

Dr. Joey K. McDonald
First United Methodist Church
4832 Tujunga Avenue, North Hollywood, CA 91601

The First Sunday of Advent

REFLECTIONS
November 30, 2008

Advent is a time of waiting. It is the beginning of the Church year where Christians the world over prepare to remember and receive anew, the gift of God in the infant Jesus. Waiting is a difficult endeavor. Whether we are children awaiting the gifts of the season, or adults waiting to be served at the bank, time seems to go ever so slowly. There is an old Tom Petty song (I think the title is The Waiting is the Hardest Part); a line from it reads, or sings if you will, “You take it on faith, you take it to the heart, the waiting is the hardest part.”

I experienced this recently when on a shopping trip to a local mall. Finding the things to buy and the place to check out was fairly easy, actually purchasing them was considerably more difficult. There was no cashier at the station and appeared to be none on the floor. Several minutes later a person arrived with a customer in tow whose purchase she began to process. This would mean a little bit longer wait for me, but not much. However, before the salesperson could complete the transaction another customer appeared and began demanding service. Saying, “Are you the only person on the floor? I’ve been waiting a very long time without any help, and I’m very busy and have other things to do.” All this without pausing for a response from the sales associate. When the person stopped to take a breath the sales associate said, “I am sorry I will be happy to help you as soon as I finish with this next customer (that would be me). The person said, “I have been waiting a very long time, why don’t you have more people working?” I offered to give up my place but the customer said something sharp and stomped off. I looked at the sales associate and remarked you know it’s the holiday season when you’ve had your first truly nasty customer. As we left the store, my son who was with me said, “This is why I do my shopping online.”

In a rush to do and have and be, patience is a commodity oftentimes lost in the experience of Advent. Rather than be pressed flat with the demands of the season, imagine if somehow we could pause each day for just a moment and consider the gift we have been given in the love of God, or recall the care and strength from which we can draw in faith and through community. Then finally remember what we are called to do with our lives in hope and concern. Waiting in holiday sales lines and listening to one another be frustrated is not part of the equation.

Dr. Joey K. McDonald
First United Methodist Church
4832 Tujunga Avenue, North Hollywood, CA 91601