Diana

Extravagant Giving, Part II

February 5, 2007 By Diana

Warren Thompson was one of those rare people God gives us in life. People with a quiet, Jesus-like authority, with no hypocrisy showing up anywhere, no interest in recognition, or ostentation of any kind, absolutely no desire for prominence in any up-front sort of way. People who truly see Jesus as their only authority,who model their lives after Jesus’ self-giving love, after Jesus’ powerful truth-telling, after Jesus’ back-of-the-line, servant’s heart, servant’s attitude, servant’s behavior kind of living.

Thomps was that kind of person, and his absence from this planet impoverishes me and everyone who ever knew him. And while my heart weeps for his loss, I also celebrate his life and the life of Jesus that I and so many others saw in him.

Warren Thompson came to faith later in life than many. He had survived World War II and come home to meet and marry his sweetheart, Nancy. He was in his mid-to late 20’s when he encountered Jesus for the 1^st time and that encounter changed his life forever.

He and Nancy raised two kids, one of whom is a pastor on the east coast and the other of whom has magnificently raised her two daughters as a single mom the last few years. Thomps and Nancy joined Pasadena Covenant church in the 1950’s, and both became diligent students of the Bible, and active members of small groups and prayer circles. In their quiet, humble way, both of them became the kind of bedrock lay leaders that pastors dream of having in their congregations.

When my family and I came to PCC in 1975, our kids were 3, 5 and 7 and we watched as this tall, skinny guy in his mid 50’s hung out with the high school students week after week. We later learned that he had been hanging out with high school students for years, going to midweek activities, attending winter and summer camps as a counselor, traveling to Mexico on mission trips, coming to high school Sunday school each and every week.

And doing a whole lot more than that. Thomps worked for the 3M Corporation there in Pasadena and every day, when he left work, he would ask God to show him whom he should contact on his way home. And then he’d drop by a student’s home, or call and meet someone for coffee or a Coke. Sometimes, he’d take them to breakfast, before work. Thomps literally gave himself away to those students – almost 30 years of those students. He was never shy about praying for kids, either, wherever they were. He wanted to know what they were learning from the word, what they were learning from their prayer times. He wanted to know how they were living like Jesus – and he did all of this with a spirit of gentle humility that was wondrous to behold. And if they weren’t living like Jesus, he loved them extravagantly anyway.

He was willing to be made fun of for being an old guy, he was willing to not be hip or hep or cool or ‘hot.’ He was willing to give himself away lavishly so that others might see Jesus. He gave extravagantly, he gave exuberantly, he gave joyfully, he gave gladly and even gleefully at times. He loved Jesus and he loved students. During his years of mentorship with the students coming through the youth ministry at Pasadena, at least a dozen and maybe closer to 20 individuals – mostly young men, because that’s who Thomps invested in – went into full time Christian service of one kind or another. Some are pastoring, some are missionaries, some are psychologists, some are youth workers themselves. That list includes several who are or were part of the community of faith at Montecito Covenant, including our former pastor.

Many others of those students answered God’s call to lay ministry, like their friend Thomps had, and they are serving God in churches, hospitals, homes, and schools all over the place. In his later years – I think when he turned 70 he decided he was really too old to work with students! – he became a lay pastor of visitation and began a ministry of powerful and loving care for seniors and others in the larger community, participating in weekly church staff meetings and praying regularly for each person on that staff. It was my privilege to serve beside Thomps for 5 years, 2 as a student intern and 3 as a member of the staff there, and I will be forever grateful that he is a part of my story.

When our son was about to go into high school, Thomps began to talk about ‘retiring’ from student ministries. We literally begged him to reconsider, to hang in there for 4 more years while Eric and his cohort of friends came of age, which he graciously agreed to do. And Warren Thompson became one of the most important figures in our son’s life, providing loving and faithful encouragement through high school and beyond. We will be at his memorial service on the 17th of this month, giving thanks to God for a remarkable life. Thomps was probably the closest I will ever come to seeing Jesus this side of heaven. He was that extravagant in his love, that generous in his attention, that alive in his love for God and for others.

So, as I invite our congregation to gather around the table on Sunday, I want to give thanks for his life. And I want to give thanks for his Savior, who is also my Savior, and their Savior.

That same Jesus who rejected an authority dependent upon ostentation, or privilege, or exploitation, or entitlement. That same Jesus who lived and ministered from a center of true authority – the authority of truth, humility, compassion and mercy. That same Jesus who noticed the widow in the temple courts, who lamented the abuses of authority which contributed to her poverty, and who drew attention to the way her extravagant giving mirrored his own coming sacrifice.

And I will offer this prayer, on behalf of us all:

Holy Friend, Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, and our Father,

We have to admit, Lord, that this teaching is sometimes really hard for us. We like the trappings. We prefer the peacock feathers to the tiny birds’ nest [a reference to our spectacular altar piece which is a lovely study in contrasts.] We like to be shown respect, we like to enjoy a perk here and there, we like to feel important, to feel needed and necessary.

Where that can really get us into trouble, though, is when we begin to lie to ourselves and to you, when we begin to believe that we really are entitled to those perks because…we’ve done so much good, or we’ve worked so hard to attain a certain status, or educational degree, or years of service at our place of employment – or whatever. We’ve begun to think that somehow we deserve all those points of privilege that we enjoy so much.

Forgive us, Lord, for the ways we abuse whatever form of authority we may have gained in this life. Forgive us for wanting desperately to impress other people more than we want to live for you. Forgive us for wanting to live the good life more than we want to be good people. Forgive us for consciously or unconsciously stepping on somebody else to get to the rewards we think we deserve. And, by the power of your Spirit at work within us, enable us more and more, day by day, little by little, to look like your son Jesus, to whose table we come, and in whose name we pray, Amen.

Filed Under: Uncategorized

Extravagant Giving

February 4, 2007 By Diana

The text for this Sunday includes the story of the widow’s mite – the gift of everything that our observant Savior watched from his perch near the offering ‘trumpets’ in the Court of the Women in the Temple in Jerusalem. This happened just days before his own arrest and crucifixion and it follows on the heels of some pretty strong words of warning about religious authorities and their hypocrisy. It’s a text that has been widely preached during November (when it falls into the lectionary calendar, as a matter of fact). November – the traditional month for stewardship sermons as year end approaches and new budgets are being formulated. ‘Give, give, give til it hurts’ – that’s often the interpretation used at such times. And I do think it is possible that this text can be used as a template for preaching the power of proportionate giving…except…it’s a bit troubling. Does Jesus really beckon the disciples to join him in his people-watching in order to show them the ‘right’ kind of giving, the kind that every ‘good’ disciple should strive to emulate? Should we all really give away all that we have to live on? Or is there something else going on in this text, something a bit more subversive, and perhaps a bit more in tune with the immediate and general context of the gospel of Mark.

Jesus enfleshes the focussed concern of God for the people on the margins, most especially the widows and orphans, in a society where neither is well-cared for and where both are usually invisible. Just before this small story, Jesus castigates the scribes – those interpreters of the law who oppose Jesus all through Mark’s gospel account – and he particularly rides them for ‘devouring the houses of widows.’ Probably he was making reference to the subtle and not-so-subtle ways that these ‘unpaid’ religious professionals often used their positions of influence to extort funds from the most vulnerable, especially widows, who enjoyed no legal protection, and – if they produced no male children – no financial protection either. Though these scribes received no ‘official’ recompense for their scribal and interpretive work, they did know ways of getting funds. Somehow the picture of tv evangelists comes to mind here…perhaps with the promise of ‘increased blessing for increased giving??’

We cannot know, we can only surmise. But it does seem clear – from the harshness of Jesus’ tone and the pointedness of his words – that the behavior of those in religious leadership, those finding themselves in positions of power and authority, reflected both an abuse of that power and a misuse of that authority.

Jesus says strongly, “This will not do!” “Beware!” The disciples are instructed, in no uncertain terms, to watch out for these wolves in sheep’s clothing, to be especially careful of authorities who like the perks of the job – who wear fine clothes in an ostentatious manner; who want to be seen in the synagogue, choosing to sit up in front, on the bench that faces the congregation; who want the best couch at the banquet; who pray long, elaborate prayers at the same time they are fleecing the widows. Beware. Be careful. Watch out.

And then comes this small story of the widow’s gift. And her generous spirit is to be commended. Her admission of her complete dependence upon God and neighbor is to be emulated. Her digging deep to share with others is praiseworthy. But…I wonder. Could Jesus also be verbalizing a lament-of-sorts in this scene? Could he be calling his disciples’ attention to the very thing he has just been warning them about? Is he bewailing the religious system that encourages such destitution? I think there may be some of that in this text.

It certainly lines up with Jesus’ earlier teaching, in Mark 7, against religious authorities who shelter their money by calling it ‘devoted to God’ instead of taking care of their elderly parents. It certainly lines up with Jesus’ strong prophetic word in the verses which immediately follow this story, at the beginning of chapter 13. There, the disciples are praising the beauty of the temple building and inviting Jesus to do the same. Jesus, however, looks at that magnificent edifice and sees it in ruins, ‘no stone upon another,’ shocking his followers with his foreboding word. He sees a religious system that is rotten to the core. Where others see authority and power, Jesus sees seeping decay and imminent loss. And he will not be a party to it in any way, shape or form.

So he speaks his harshest words of criticism yet. Mark’s version is much briefer that Matthew’s entire chapter 23, but it is still powerful to read. He is on his way to the cross and he knows it. Throwing any vestige of caution to the winds, Jesus blasts away at the ‘authority’ of the religious superstructure, in essence inviting them to come after him. Jesus is preparing to give the most extravagant gift it is possible for any human being to give. And because he is the Son of God in human flesh, the extravagance level takes on untold layers of love. So I think, despite the lament that surely was there in Jesus’ words, there is a lovely way in which this small person, living on the margins of her culture, provides us with a window into the gift that is coming. Like the other widow in this week’s readings – the one at Zarepath who used her last flour and water to feed a hungry prophet named Elijah – this widow willingly gives all that she has to the service of God.

Jesus had no use for authority that was illegitimate and abusive. And Jesus spoke with true authority – with power and certainty and ability that exceeded anything the scribes could offer. Jesus called false authority what it was. He named the evil and he stepped strongly into the melee that resulted from his truth-telling words. And on the way, he noticed a poor widow, flinging her tiny coins into the offering box at the temple. At one and the same time, her story serves to condemn the insidious abuses of wrongly-used authority and to highlight the beauty of generosity and humility, the offering of oneself and one’s meager gifts with relinquishment and dependence.

How hard it is for us to do that! We’d much rather wear the flowing robes and get the best seats at the banquet, thank you. Admitting that we are totally dependent upon Another for our very breath is difficult to do. It is somehow even harder to acknowledge that we are also dependent upon that One for the money in our pocket, the roof over our heads and the abundance which we enjoy. Placing ourselves in a position of dependence – or more accurately, acknowledging the fact that we are already there – is tough for 21st century western Christians to do. I have known very few people in my life for whom that kind of humility, graciousness and generosity is a natural part of daily living. And one of my primary life examples died this past week, a person whose absence from this planet impoverishes me and everyone who ever knew him.

I’ll write about Thomps in a later edition…

Filed Under: authority, biblical study, giving

Working Toward Retreat…

January 25, 2007 By Diana

It’s been almost a full year since I’ve done any speaking or teaching for a women’s group of any kind. For a while there, I was doing something with and for women on a regular basis – I facilitated a women’s Bible study group at church twice a month for about seven years, participated in four different women’s retreats for our own women (two as speaker, one as worship leader, one as communion celebrant) and spent a weekend here, a half-day’s worth of interaction and input there. I spoke at a ladies’ tea, and I offered communion to a Bible study leadership team every fall for several years running. I like working with women – I also love preaching to and teaching groups which include both genders and a variety of age groups. But there is often something rich and remarkable that happens when a group of women gather somewhere away-from-the-usual for the express purpose of drawing closer to God.

Two days from now, I’ll get that opportunity again as I lead a group of women from Brentwood Presbyterian church at their annual women’s ministries retreat – right here in Santa Barbara at la Casa de Maria. We’re looking at the book of Esther – which is the same material I used at the very first retreat I ever led by myself almost 10 years ago. My good friend Karen Jobes has written an incomparable commentary on this marvelous book and I have enjoyed re-reading it the last few weeks. (In case you’re wondering…this is the only commentary I have ever read from cover to cover!) Over the course of this weekend, we’ll be talking about and reflecting on:

The Hidden Presence of God in Our Story

“…for such a time as this…”

Session One – Friday Evening, January 26, 2007

Making Things CLEAR…

…the need for consent and clarity.

Session Two – Saturday Morning, January 27, 2007

Keeping Things CONGRUENT…

…the importance of consistency and community.

Session Three – Saturday Afternoon, January 27, 2007

Living with COURAGE…

…the need for conviction and commitment.

Session Four – Sunday Morning, January 28, 2007

Responding with CELEBRATION…

…moving through confession to cooperation.

Throughout the course of these sessions, the women will spend some time in individual reflection, some time in small group discussion and some time in large group learning. It is challenging and fun to lay out a series like this, and I am grateful for the opportunity. And I am especially enjoying wrestling through this topic at this particular juncture in my own life and ministry. I gave the leadership team at Brentwood a list of about six topics and this is the one they chose. After listening to a bit of their corporate story of the last several years, I can readily see that it is also a great topic for them to wrestle with for a while.

It’s a good and relevant topic precisely because God so often seems hidden to us. There aren’t too many miracles to be had, these days. Indeed, I believe that God chooses to work through the ordinary, non-remarkable circumstances of daily life far more often than God chooses to intervene with a miraculous event – and I believe that’s true in any day. There are far more stories like Esther’s in this life than there are stories like the Exodus. Perhaps a better way to phrase it is that there is more often a “miraculous quality to the ordinary” (a Jobes’ phrase) than there is an ordinary quality to the miraculous! The only problem with this truth is, of course, that we so often fail to have ‘eyes to see’ and ‘ears to hear’ the wondrous ways in which our God is at work in, around and through the ordinary stuff of life. I am praying that together, the women from Brentwood Pres and I will have our eyes and ears opened in new ways this weekend.

Filed Under: biblical study, ministry, women

Friends

January 3, 2007 By Diana

Last night I found a note from a good friend in my e-box. Someone I’ve missed since she took another job halfway across the country 18 months ago. Someone with whom I had found common ground here in Santa Barbara, very soon after I arrived 10 years ago. I was so very green around the ears professionally. I had come to my first paying job since working as a personal assistant to a friend almost twenty years before. I was deeply frightened about expectations, both known and unknown, and about my ability (or inability, to be more accurate) to live up to them. The first day I drove up here, with my little Ford Escort loaded to the gills with supplies, my husband put me in the car with sobs and hugs, a rather unusual mode of farewell, to be sure!

We were both excited about the prospects of ‘being sent’ to a new place. (Yes, I know it was Santa Barbara – I’ve heard the sardonic comments about ‘somebody has to serve Jesus in Santa Barbara…’ too many times to count!) but it was a new place, a strange place and it certainly wasn’t a place that ‘felt’ like us. My husband sobbed for me because he had already been in the working world for a lot of years and he fully understood about expectations, about performance anxiety, about awkward personnel issues, about office politics, about hard decisions and about sacrificial labor. He wondered what I would find and he knew he couldn’t be with me for my first few days. His job required (and still requires) him to be in southern CA 3 days per week. My new job meant living in a guest house until we found a home, much of the time without him beside me. It was a strange feeling, after 30 years of marriage, to be without my partner for days at a time.

And I had left behind rich and deep friendships of many years in southern CA. Neighbors and small group partners and co-workers whom I loved. I had been a pastor for 3 years at this point, but I was working in the church where I had already been a lay leader for 21 years and my friendships there had come first. So coming to a new parish – without friends and, oddly, where no one knew me in the context of my family – was strange for me. This was a place where my new boss warned me against making friends within the congregation. I think he was trying to help me establish the same kind of boundaries he had worked on very well for a very long time. Even though he had a number of close associates of many years’ duration within the broader church community, he was careful to tell me that only his small group of male pastors, all of whom lived in other geographical areas, really knew him well. I have since learned that this is not atypical for pastors who are men.

So, I spent almost two years afraid to let anybody get too close, afraid to be my neurotic, vulnerable, broken self with the people I met and grew to know and love. And during those same two years, I was finding a house, moving into a house, trying to live in that house without my ‘stuff’ – our house in Altadena took 11 months to sell – and doing it all without my husband here from Tuesday to Thursday every single week. I was deeply and desperately lonely.

Then I went to lunch with Karen. She, too, was a midlife seminary student. She, too, had deep ties to her mom and family who were living elsewhere. She, too, wrestled with balance and friendships and all sorts of the same kinds of stuff that I was wrestling with. We met for meals about 3 times a semester while she taught in Santa Barbara and those meals helped me begin to feel real in my new home. Gradually, I was able to be more myself – with her, and with others. Gradually, I felt the freedom to be a pastor and a friend in my own way, following the leading of the Spirit and being true to the person God had made me to be. It wasn’t easy, but it was so worth it.

So when I saw her name in my e-box, I was glad and grateful. It was sweet and good to hear from her – she is busy with her life and her family, and so am I. Hopefully, we can maintain some sort of contact, despite the distance and the pulls we each respond to, both personally and professionally. I know from painful personal experience that it is not easy to do that. Many of my friends from only 110 miles away are now Christmas letter friends only, and that is sometimes hard for me. But then, there are a few dear ones with whom I can instantly be deeply connected, even after many months of no contact, and for these ones, I thank God.

My BBC (Birthday Breakfast Club) from Pasadena – dear friends with whom I have maintained some semblance of relationship since the move north. These women were God’s gift to me for many years – four of them walked with me into the admissions office when I applied for seminary – and all of them encouraged my gifts and listened to my story with love and wisdom.

Filed Under: friendship. personal journey

‘Tis the Season…

December 26, 2006 By Diana

Monday evening, Christmas Day, 2006

It’s been a quiet Christmas at Lake Woebegon. A lovely Christmas, in its own way, but a quiet one, nonetheless. We gathered with our kids on Saturday night, at our daughter’s home in Monrovia, 2 hours south of here. Eric, Rachel and Grace had safely packed, shipped off their belongings from east coast to west and landed in Long Beach the afternoon before. Mark had further medical tests that same day, Lisa and Joy took my mom out to a Christmas tea at the Huntington Library, and Dick and I had worked quietly at home in preparation for our long day south. I say quietly – that’s excluding the sound of the jackhammer ripping out (v-e-r-y, very s-l-o-o-o-w-ly) the marble floor tiles I have despised since we purchased this house almost 10 years ago. (Marble is cold, hard and unforgiving – to fine china and small children. We will soon have hardwood flooring throughout.) And, of course, we waited most of that day for the electricians to re-connect our internet service, our exterior lights and the tv in our bedroom – all of which disappeared from service the day before. Only the first of many such small mishaps over the next few months, I’m sure.

We gathered as an immediate family Saturday night, already stuffed and over stimulated from an earlier-that-same-day gathering with my mom, my brothers and my sister-in-law, niece and nephew. It was delightful to all be together – for the first time in two years – and we all enjoyed watching the babies toddle their way through the happy confusion.

Griffin is 15 months old, very attached to mom but willing to make friends, if you give him enough time. His lovely strawberry blond hair is growing in to form an interesting sort of mohawk effect.

Gracie is 14 months old, very social and tries her darnedest to charm the socks off every single person in the room. She also sports one of the spiffiest bed-heads since her father was a wee one. (She’s just up from a long nap – jet-lag, don’t you know – in these shots.)

We had had Italian food with the larger clan and everyone was stuffed by the time we celebrated together, so we just went straight for all those presents. The 8 years olds in our midst each received 3 different Star Wars light swords from various family units and proceeded to light-slice their way through the house while the rest of us enjoyed the rest of the gift-opening a little bit more quietly. It was a good day, all of us glad to be together in one space again. We headed for Santa Barbara around 8:45, tired and grateful.

Christmas Eve was a busy and beautiful day, with a single morning service and a brief candlelight service at 5:00. I was probably the only person who really missed serving communion by candlelight, but was still moved to tears by the lifting of our lit candles during the last verse of “Silent Night.” Dick and I had lunch at the Samarkand with his mom, so enjoyed soup and fresh pears for our Christmas eve supper.

Today was the quietest of all. Just the two of us this morning, sleeping in a little, enjoying the treat of Jeannine’s scones and homemade hot chocolate for breakfast, then taking Dick’s Mom out for a delicious turkey dinner on the pier at 1:00 p.m. It was a gloriously beautiful day and we enjoyed watching the birds and the sailors whilst we ate. We took Mama home and then drove downtown for a 3:30 showing of “The Pursuit of Happyness,” an excellent and heartwarming story which seemed appropriate for today somehow. And it’s been a quiet evening, restful and relaxing.

Tomorrow the jackhammer starts again, and we may try to take in one more flick before we check in at work on Wednesday. In the meantime, we’re enjoying the sweetness of quiet for a little while longer.

Here’s a look at our space as of now:

The kitchen, looking east, toward the hall and backyard.

The kitchen, looking into the living room. This entire doorway and wall will come out once the furnace ducts are moved tomorrow.

The family room, down to the studs, looking toward where the new laundry room will be built and the door opened to the new garage. We’re trying to salvage these two banks of cabinets for use in the new garage. We put all other old cabinets into the dumpster.

A brief addendum: as of 10:21 a.m. Tuesday the 26th, there are NO workers in view. Sigh.

A second brief addendum: as of 10:35 a.m. Tuesday the 26th, 2 faithful furnace fixers showed up and worked hard all day, clearing out the no-longer-needed-ducts and reconfiguring our existing furnace for shorter distance coverage without burning up. :>) Maybe tomorrow, we’ll cut through the remaining beams/walls.

Filed Under: Christmas, remodel

Glimpses of Heaven

December 18, 2006 By Diana

Do you ever have one of those liminal moments when you feel as if you’ve been given a peek at a new kind of reality? A momentary glimpse of life as God intended it to be lived? Those kind of moments fall like gifts into our laps – and they almost always take us by surprise. I had one of those moments this morning, during worship.

It had been a busy week, a good week, with meaningful work to do, small evidences of progress being made on our home remodel, sweet moments of connection with my husband and my kids. And then we found ourselves invited out to three different Christmas gatherings – three nights in a row. That almost never happens to us. Thursday brought a Swedish smorgasbord at the lovely, large apartment of long time, older friends. About 15 people, some of whom we’ve known for 30 years or so, enjoyed Swedish meatballs, rice pudding, baked beans and homemade spritz and pepperkakor. Friday brought a last minute invitation to the home of a former colleague, a true helpmate when times were tough in the last couple of years. Spare ribs and twice-baked potatoes eaten in a brightly decorated, neat and tidy home. Last night was our staff Christmas gathering, hosted by a dear friend and her husband (and her mom, who lives upstairs and who opened her home to us all for dessert). We laughed and relaxed together, filled with gratitude for friendship as well as partnership.

So, the week was full. I was the preacher this morning, and in and around the various responsibilities of home and church, I pieced together a cohesive message that was received well. As always, there was more to be said than I could manage to pull together, but 20 minutes is enough! Every once in a while when I’m preaching, I have one of these moments I’m talking about. A glimpse of God actively at work in and through me, a brief moment of clarity when the power of the Word takes me outside of myself. Today was not one of those days. But still… there was such a moment… an arresting, transporting, heavenly moment…

It happened during the lighting of the Advent candle in our second service. The family who had planned to do it had to drop out due to the unexpected death of a dearly loved relative, so I had to scramble to find a replacement. There is a family new to our congregation, people I don’t yet know well, but whom I find to be welcoming and real. They said yes immediately. This is a blended family – I’m not sure which children came into the family with which parent – but they are bright, friendly, cooperative kids. And their parents have jumped in with both feet, offering to help in wonderful, practical, much-needed ways. We are glad and grateful that they’re here and I was looking forward to their leadership.

As the piano played softly in the background, the littlest girl lit our 3rd candle (gently aided by the dad of the house). The mom, in her lilting French accent, led in our responsive reading from Isaiah. She read so simply, so beautifully, that my eyes began to fill with tears. Everyone else sang two verses of “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel” while I waited for my throat to open – and then … it happened.

The three oldest children, two boys and a girl, stepped to the microphone. The tallest boy read the heading of the next section of the litany – “A Child’s Prayer for Advent – written by Martin Luther” – and then all 3 of them read together, clearly and perfectly:

Ah, dearest Jesus, holy Child,

Make thee a bed, soft, undefiled,

Within my heart, that it may be

A quiet chamber kept for thee.

Amen.

Gazing at these three lovely children, listening to their beautiful unison reading, it suddenly seemed as if the air in front of me was electrically charged and for just the briefest moment, all those molecules reconfigured themselves in such a way that I was able to peer inside the gates of heaven itself. In the blink of an eye, I was transported. Pure, sweet voices offering words of worship to the infant Savior. A glimpse of heaven, a glimpse of home. Oh, thank you!

Filed Under: Uncategorized

Do “Clothes Make the Man?”

December 13, 2006 By Diana

Maybe Mark Twain was right. The full quotation concludes with these words: “Naked people have little or no influence on society.” A generalization, to be sure, but perhaps an apt one? This quote was discovered when throwing out the wide inter-net for some research on clothing and the Bible. In the process, I found a couple of very interesting sites, including one for Christian nudists. Who knew??

The reason for this sudden interest in all things sartorial? I am this week’s preacher and our text for Sunday is Isaiah 61, where in verse 3 and then again in verse 10, the prophet waxes rhapsodic about the new clothes God provides his beloved children.

“to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.”
“For he has clothed me with garments of salvation
and arrayed me in a robe of his righteousness,
as a bridegroom adorns his head like a priest,
and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.“

What is it about new clothes? Most especially really beautiful, very dressy or highly symbolic new clothes? I asked our staff for their memories of clothing items that had struck a particularly strong emotional chord in them. Answers ranged from logo-laden t-shirts given for successfully managing a difficult training session, to a liturgical stole, beautifully imprinted by a loving partner, to a wedding dress or an academic hood which each signalled a change in identity and purpose for the wearer. It seems that clothing carries some pretty heavy emotional and psychological freight.

And perhaps it has always been so. Adam and Eve instinctively covered themselves with hastily stitched together greenery once they had availed themselves of the forbidden fruit. God helped them do a better job of it by providing animal skins for warmth and protection in the world outside the garden which was now theirs to inhabit. Jacob gave his favored child a special coat, which coupled with his own rather innocent air of braggadocio, got him in a heckuva lot of trouble; that same son grew up to be the Grand Vizier of the Egyptian empire and was so well hidden behind that office’s clothing and paraphernalia that his own family did not know him. The levitical code outlined in great detail the attire to be worn by the priests when on duty in the tabernacle. The giving of his cloak by the prophet Elijah was part of ‘passing the torch’ to his successor, Elisha. King David danced before the ark wearing only his loincloth which horrified and shamed his wife. King Solomon “in all of his glory” was richly robed and adorned. Angelic messengers are consistently described as being garbed in white, often a dazzling white. Our Lord had an outer garment which was seamless and triggered the interest of the Roman guards at his deathsite. The apostle Paul uses the imagery of being clothed with Christ, or with the new person in Christ, in at least 3 of his epistles. The company of the redeemed as described in John’s vision of heaven are all dressed in white robes. All of which leads to the inevitable conclusion that clothing (or the lack of it) does signify important truths in the pages of scripture.

So, as I pull my clothes on today, am I also aware of the garment of righteousness, of salvation, of praise that is mine to wear every day? Is it visible – to me and to others? Which set of clothes makes the woman? Does the symbolic set influence the physical set in any way?

Filed Under: Uncategorized

And, for the last installment….

December 11, 2006 By Diana

This is my sixth attempt to post the last three pictures from last night’s pageant. Something is definitely wacky this a.m. Hopefully, these will be viewable without bleeding over into the previous posting. Any advice on how to avoid this would be sincerely appreciated.

Filed Under: Uncategorized

Christmas Pageant, Series Two

December 11, 2006 By Diana

I have learned some hard lessons about this blogging stuff in the last 24 hours. An individual blog can only handle so many pictures before it bleeds into the previous one once posted. And…it’s much easier to tell a photo story if you start at the end of the story with your pictures. Geez Louise, what a lot of time spent on not much. At any rate, here are the next seven pictures from our lovely Children’s Pageant last night. The last three will be posted in the next blog. :>)

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Do You See What I See?

December 11, 2006 By Diana

A birthday party for Jesus, that’s what we enjoyed tonight. The children of Montecito Covenant Church put on a smashing party, including some of the most heartfelt drama we’ve ever enjoyed. The pageant preceded a supper and the entire evening was capped off by sharing a big birthday cake for baby Jesus. It was fun, it was festive, it was creative and it told us the story from the children’s point of view. What could be better than that??