Tuesday in Holy Week: Change

A few years ago I had a dream the night before a church gathering.  In the dream were two large women who blocked my way in.  They told me I needed to pay $1.82 before I could enter.  They also told me it needed to be exactly $1.82 because they did not give change.    This morning I read the story of Jesus upsetting the tables of the moneychangers on the Temple grounds in Jerusalem (Mark 11:15-19).  I thought about Jesus declaring the Temple a house of prayer for all nations, and how threatening that was for the religious authorities.  I thought about those two large dream women, demanding such an odd amount, making it so difficult even to enter.

Consider this:

What has blocked the way for you in living out your faith?   Jesus upset the tables of the money-changers and the dove-sellers.  He demanded that people enter the temple carrying nothing.  What an image!  What a threat to the system.  What a change!  What if we walked into church with empty hands, into our house of prayer for all nations with clear eyes and clean hearts and empty hands?  What is blocking your way in?  Jesus has already cleared the way.

Transitions

I write this as I prepare to give a talk about life transitions to a group of church listeners.  These are people who volunteer to be companions to those who are overwhelmed in their church community, often overwhelmed by a loss, maybe the death of a loved one, maybe a job loss, maybe a medical condition.  Even something like a child going off to college, or off to kindergarten.  These listeners are people who come alongside those who need an extra set of ears, a listening heart, during a time of need. 

It*s funny.  This is something I feel entirely qualified to talk about.  Usually requests come, and I think:  What can I possibly say?  This time I heard the request and said immediately: I would love to do that.  When do you need me?   Today it is a matter of paring down what I have to say, rather than the usual process I go through which requires expanding my words.  

Consider this:

Where are the transitions in your life now?  What changes are at work in your soul?  I believe we are always in transition from one thing to another.  Change, if we are alive, is a constant.  Our brains are wired naturally to seek patterns in our lives, to make sense of what we experience.   Certain changes are more difficult for us than others.  Sometimes having a companion, an extra someone who will listen with their ears and heart, helps us weather that change. 

Different yet the same

This morning Jeff and I served as ushers at church, as we do on a regular basis at the 9:15 service.  The view from the middle, standing in the back of church, is quite different from the middle front, facing the congregation, the place I used to stand all the time as rector or vicar, as priest in charge of smaller congregations.  From the back I see different things.   Even on this Sunday of the time change, with sleepy eyes, I saw different things.    The priest eyes do not go away just because I am not leading worship.  Now I still have priest eyes, priest heart, but use them from a different place in church.  Now it seems I am to use all I have experienced, all the accumulation of some 57 years (over half as a priest), only I am to stand in a different place, see different things, lead perhaps in a different way.  It is all right and good, and yes, different.  

Consider this:

It can be difficult to embrace different.  It is often hard to explain to others (or even to ourselves) when we have made a change (or something has changed us).  Where are you now?  Where have you been?  What changes, what transitions have impacted your life recently?  Say... in the last year?  Lent is often used as a time of personal assessment,  a time to reflect on where we have been, and what next steps God would have us take.  Sometimes we wake up to find ourselves standing in the back, handing out bulletins, bringing up the offering plates, tripping over teddy bears (like this Sunday).  It is good to reflect on the changes, recognize ourselves in their midst, and begin to figure out that next step.