SUNDAY EXPECTATIONS

CHRIST IN WINTER: Reflections on Faith for the Years of Winter… ©

It is Sunday morning, and I am preparing for church. We are going to a new church this morning. Well, the church is not new. This congregation has been around for a hundred years or two. And we have worshipped there before, when we were in college, and occasionally since. So we have expectations…

…that the church will be as we remember it from happy days of yore, with a magnificent choir composed of students pursuing vocal doctorates, and an amazing organist who is the dean of the school of music, and that since it is the cathedral church in the cathedral town of its district, that the appointed pastor will know his way around the pulpit, even though preachers don’t stay in pulpits much anymore…

…and if my expectations are not met, I shall complain, to my wife, and to God… oops…

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, in Life Together, says that a pastor should never complain about his/her congregation, certainly not to other people, and especially not to God. Not to God? If you can’t complain about off-key sopranos and thought-stuttering preachers to God, to whom can you…

Oh, that’s the point. Bonhoeffer goes on to say that it is not only preachers who should not complain about the congregations, but parishoners who should complain neither about the preacher nor other church members, because in doing so we lose our chance to hear what God is telling us.

When the church does not meet our expectations, it is because our expectations are in the way, not because God is not in the church. If the church is just as you want it, only your expectations are met, not the God who exceeds your expectations.

A “bad” worship experience allows us to meet the “good” God…if we examine ourselves and our expectations first, instead of jumping to conclusions and complaints.  

It is Christ who is the Word, the communication of God. Our assumptions and expectations and desires about Christ are only words, not Word. When our words stop being so noisy, we can hear the Word.

Pretty dense stuff, right? Not what you expected from Christ In Winter? Well, remember what was just said about expectations and complaining…

John Robert McFarland

johnrobertmcfarland@gmail.com

I started this blog several years ago, when we followed the grandchildren to the “place of winter,” Iron Mountain, in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula [The UP]. I put that in the sub-title, Reflections on Faith from a Place of Winter for the Years of Winter, where life is defined by winter even in the summer! [This phrase is explained in the post for March 20, 2014.] The grandchildren, though, are grown up, so in May, 2015 we moved “home,” to Bloomington, IN, where we met and married. It’s not a “place of winter,” but we are still in winter years of the life cycle, so I am still trying to understand what it means to be a follower of Christ in winter…

I tweet as yooper1721.

In the darkness that surrounds me--a poem

CHRIST IN WINTER: Reflections on life and faith for the years of winter…

In the darkness that surrounds

me, in the cold that fills

my bones, I call the names

of friends from days gone by

Uncles who were playmates

Grandfather I never knew

Boys who longed for fame

as we played the Hoosier

game, men who shared

their rations in the trenches

of this life

We hold the common cup

of memory, hope, and death

as we sit as one and wait

for the sun to rise

JRMcF

johnrobertmcrarland@gmail.com

I tweet as yooper1721

I AM PILGRIM...maybe

CHRIST IN WINTER: Reflections on Faith for the Years of Winter… ©

Christ In Winter is an unlikely venue for reviewing a book like I Am Pilgrim, [Atria, 2014] by Terry Hayes, especially since it is his first novel, and his former writing career was writing “Mad Max” movies. What could be spiritual or theological about a modern day spy thriller, in which the usual lone wolf hero, straight out of a Western movie in earlier times, chases down a lone wolf terrorist, bent on destroying America?

Actually, anything can be spiritual, and everything is theological, and that’s the rub here.

First, though, let me say that it’s a ripping good story, with great detail that is interesting rather than boring. Hayes has done a lot of research and uses it well, to advance the story, rather than using it to impress the reader with his research skill. It’s a thick book, 612 pp in pb, but thick does not mean dense. Just as a spy thriller, it’s an excellent piece of work [I can’t imagine writing this and keeping all the details straight], and a good thriller read.

Back to the rub… Is Hayes doing subtle theology, spiritually? Why does the hero choose “Pilgrim” as his under-cover name? Is it an evocation of Milton’s Pilgrim’s Progress? Or is it just John Wayne swaggering and calling everyone “Pilgrim” in one of his Western movies? And when Pilgrim quotes Mark 16:6 at the end, is he actually being biblical, especially since this novel is about the secret world of spies and Mark is the Gospel of “The Messianic Secret” [He could have gotten the same quote from a different Gospel.], or is it a grotesque misuse of the central tenet of Christian faith [resurrection]?

I can’t say more without ruining the story for you…

John Robert McFarland

johnrobertmcfarland@gmail.com

I tweet as yooper1721.

Joe Kirk lost a leg. Lonnie Blifield lost his eyes. Victoria Roundtree lost her skin. “Zan” Zander lost his mind. Four homeless and hopeless Iraqistan VETS who accidentally end up living together on an old school bus. With nowhere to go, and nothing else to do, they lurch from one VAMC to another, getting no help because, like the thousands of other Iraqistan VETS who are homeless, unemployed, and suicidal, they do not trust the system and refuse to “come inside.” After another fruitless stop, at the VAMC in Iron Mountain, Michigan, a doctor is found dead, and the VETS are accused of his murder. Distrustful, strangers to America, to each other, and even to themselves, they must become a unit to learn who really murdered the doctor, so that they can stay free. In doing so, they uncover far more, about themselves and about their country, than they dared even to imagine. My novel, VETS, will be released August 15 and is available for pre-order on Amazon, etc. now.

Air Is Never Empty-a poem

CHRIST IN WINTER: Reflections on Faith for the Years of Winter… ©

Tragedy and pathos should not walk

hand in hand, the way strangers

do as they approach the gallows

where even an unknown hand

is better than a futile grasp

on empty air

Yet air is never empty

Tragedy is deep

and pathos shallow

one a pit without

a bottom, one a saucer

full of empty air

Yet air is never empty

John Robert McFarland

johnrobertmcfarland@gmail.com

I tweet as yooper1721.

Digging [Not] in the Crimson Quarry

CHRIST IN WINTER: Reflections on Faith for the Years of Winter… ©

I applied for a job as a sports writer for The Crimson Quarry. It’s a web site that calls itself “An Indiana Hoosiers Community.” It covers all Indiana University sports. It’s a neat name. Crimson is one of the IU colors, along with Cream, and IU & Bloomington are famous for the local limestone quarries, especially because of the film, “Breaking Away.”

They didn’t say anything about pay, so I assume there is none, but the site is run by a few guys in their 20s who write spiffily, and are not in residence in Bloomington. So they “advertised” for someone who could cover events in Bloomington. Perfect for me, since I now live in Bloomington and am a spiffy writer.

One problem; I am old.

That was something I thought I could add to the CQ mix, the historical perspective. I have followed IU sports since the 1951 national champion basketball team of Don Schlundt and Dick Farley, who was from Winslow, a neighbor town of my home, Oakland City. I saw Farley play when he was in high school. I’m the only follower of IU sports who can tell you what it’s like to turn a corner in Jordan Hall and come face to face with Walt Bellamy’s belt buckle.

Alas, it has been many months, and the CQ has not responded to my offer. Others in Bloomington have welcomed my presence. The History Department even did a feature on my return. Well, no surprise that historians would like old people. The people who run the academic programs in the residence halls have even taken me to lunch so they can gain the historical perspective on their field that only one who has lived through it can offer.

The CQ editors do not seem to have the same interest in the history. Could it be that, despite their spiffiness, they are biased against old people?

Age bias hardly ever takes the virulent forms that racism and sexism and religious bias often do, but it is just as prevalent. It is more a bias of omission than commission, simply not noticing that we exist, or at least not acknowledging us.

That is not all bad. It is a good reminder that we are human beings, not human doings. I don’t have to write about a baseball game for either it or me to have meaning. The game has meaning, and so do I, just because we are there. Regardless of how old we are, we are all still children, children of God.

John Robert McFarland

johnrobertmcfarland@gmail.com

The picture is of the Pine Mountain ski jump in Iron Mountain, MI, the highest man-made ski jump in the world. I started this blog several years ago, when we followed the grandchildren to the “place of winter,” Iron Mountain, in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula [The UP]. I put that in the sub-title, Reflections on Faith from a Place of Winter for the Years of Winter, where life is defined by winter even in the summer! [This phrase is explained in the post for March 20, 2014.] The grandchildren, though, are grown up, so in May, 2015 we moved “home,” to Bloomington, IN, where we met and married. It’s not a “place of winter,” but we are still in winter years of the life cycle, so I am still trying to understand what it means to be a follower of Christ in winter. I have a picture that is more appropriate now for Indiana, boys playing basketball in winter snow, but I have not yet figured out how to replace the ski jump picture with the basketball picture.

I tweet as yooper1721.

UNDEVELOPED BRAINS

CHRIST IN WINTER: Reflections on Faith for the Years of Winter… ©

It is important for teen-agers to understand that the decision-making part of their brains is not yet fully developed, so they should be very careful in making decisions. The problem is, because those brains are not adequately developed, they don’t know that they are not.

It is important for old people to understand that the great-wisdom part of their brains is not yet fully developed, so they should be very careful in claiming great wisdom. The problem is…

It is important for politicians to understand that public office is for the public good, but they are too stupid to…

So, I hope German theologian and WWII martyr for the good, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, was right, when he said, “There are things more important than self-knowledge.”

John Robert McFarland

johnrobertmcfarland@gmail.com

I tweet as yooper1721.

AUGUST 3, A poem by May Sarton

CHRIST IN WINTER: Reflections on Faith from a place of winter For the Years of Winter…

A poem by May Sarton, [1912-1995] entitled “August Third.”

These days

Lifting myself up

Like a heavy weight,

Old camel getting to her knees,

I think of my mother

And the inexhaustible flame

That kept her alive

Until she died.

She knew all about fatigue

And how one pushes it aside

For staking up the lilies

Early in the morning,

The way one pushes it aside

For a friend in need,

For a hungry cat.

Mother, be with me,

Today on your birthday

I am older than you were

When you died

Thirty-five years ago.

Thinking of you

The old camel gets to her knees,

Stands up,

Moves forward slowly

Into the new day.

If you taught me one thing

It was never to fail life.

JRMcF

johnrobertmcfarland@gmail.com