Liminality

November 1 is All Saints Day in the Christian calendar. This day is the day we (the Church) remember all the saints throughout church history. Frederick Buechner says, “It’s in God’s holy flirtation with the world where we occasionally see God drop a pocket handkerchief. These handkerchiefs are called saints.” Many people think of saints as plaster saints or moral exemplars, men and women of such paralyzing virtue that they never thought a nasty thought or did an evil deed their whole lives long. As far as I know, real saints never even come close to characterizing themselves that way. On the contrary, no less a saint than Saint Paul wrote to Timothy, “I am foremost among sinners.” In other words, the feet of saints are as much of clay as everybody else’s, and their sainthood consists less of what they have done than of what God has for some reason chosen to do through them. Did you know Saint Mary Magdalene was possessed by seven demons at one point (so says Catholic t

And in a soft whisper and almost tired breath, the preacher looks out from her notes and says – Here is what I am trying to say . . . From a seminary preaching professor's standpoint, this phrase may get you an C+. But I've learned over the years this phrase can be the best part of the sermon for the listener. “Now that I have said all that – here is what I am trying to say!” It’s like a trigger. The sermon is almost over. She’s making her last point! It may or may not be a good one but it is almost over. I have a memory of when I preached for one of the first times in a church that was not my home church. They were really sweet and they knew my New Testament professor and asked him to send someone good. Well, instead, he asked me to go. At twenty years old having the holy task of bringing forth a word from God that intervenes and intercepts the lives of believers and offers hope for a future is more or less missed. Instead, at twenty I saw this as an opportun

Hopelessness rationalizes and adapts to ‘what is.’ A mother who lost her child has to adapt to a world without her son. A teenage pregnancy has to adapt to a world in which dreams are slowing down. A man laid off from work has to adapt to the precariousness of the economy. All of these situations sometimes feel like hope is gone and God is not responding. Personally, I have never felt more hopeless in my life than the day after my college graduation party. I stopped the night before at a gas station to fill my car up with gas and placed my wallet on top of the car. Sure enough – I filled up with gas and drove away never realizing my wallet, full of hundreds of dollars, was missing. It dawned on me the next day what had happened. I was forced to adapt to the situation. I was forced to rationalize it. I felt hopeless; I felt as if I messed up; I felt guilty. Sometimes when we need Christ the most – it just seems like a fool’s hope that he will be there to respond.

Moses descends from the back of Mt. Sinai to bring two tablets that outline the rules in which life will be governed. On that list is “honor” your father and mother. I have to be honest; it is extremely hard for me to believe such a commandment should be so universal. I agree with Frederick Buechner in his book Wishful Thinking when he says, “How do you honor them when, well-intentioned as they may be, they make terrible mistakes with you that have shadowed your life ever since?” Or how about when they abandon you? Or they abuse you, either sexually, emotionally, or physically? Or what about the people who left home, went off to college and formed a faith that radically opposed that of their parents? These people find themselves disenchanted after questioning the faith that ‘mom and them’ gave ‘em. Or what about the females who accepted a call from God to go to seminary despite their parents said they were forbidden? What about the young men who discover they are homos

God speaks. But God is not an all-night radio talk show of unbroken chatter. God, rather, speaks in episodes that punctuate seasons of silence. Think about the story of Samuel in the temple – he spoke to God but God is said to have spoken -- rarely. Or how about the Canaanite woman who asked Jesus to heal her dying daughter. Jesus seemed to include unnecessary moments of silence in the healing of the little girl. There is no reason that we can see that explains why God speaks episodically. I too wonder why in some instances we hear God crystal clear and in other instances God is as opaque as the Hebrew alphabet. We only know that there is a mysterious rhythm to the speech and silence of God that uncoils from the wild and wise freedom of God. If you are in period of your life where you are dying to hear the voice of God but you can’t seem to do it, I implore you – hold on – God does speak. It just comes in fragments. Martin Luther King, Jr. tells a story in one of his