Laundry, Baptism and the Sacred Ordinary

Today is laundry day.  Having just come home from Ohio for Thanksgiving, I get to turn around and head out to Cran Hill Ranch for a week of silence and solitude at the Pastors Prayer Cabin.  In order to do that, I have to have some clean clothes . . . so it's laundry day.  Which, of course, is an ordinary every day task that reminds me of baptism.

You know what this looks like.  The worn and stinky are gathered from the places they have been tossed; laundry baskets, bedroom floors, gym bags, or in our case, from plastic bags we have kept separate throughout our week with family.  It's stunning to realize how quickly it all piles up.  With great care the colors and whites are separated, each garment placed in its appropriate pile; and then one by one the piles are immersed into the cleansing power of the washer.  Soon, the bell tolls, and clean clothes are moved from one machine to the next as the dryer puts the finishing touch on the old is gone and the new has come.  Is there anything more naturally comforting than warm jeans from the dryer or clean sheets stretched out fresh waiting for a new night of sleep?

Eugene Peterson, in his contemporary translation of the bible called The Message, writes this of David's confession in Psalm 51: "Soak me in your laundry and I'll come out clean, scrub me and I'll have a snow-white life."  I like that translation because doing laundry reminds me of what God has done for me through the cross and resurrection of Jesus.  He's made me clean from the wear and the stink of my dirty laundry called sin.  Not just sort of clean . . . but snow white and laundry fresh clean.

I wonder how much we recognize these every day baptismal reminders surrounding us all the time.  The dishes moving from the dinner table to the dish washer to the cup board speak of God's baptismal promises.  Cars entering a car wash covered in mud and grim exit out the other side with a show room shine.  Bed head and crusty sleep boogers are washed away in the jets of a shower head and we stare at a new person in the mirror.  "New mercies every morning" the bible says, and a simple shower reminds us of such.  Even a rainy day, where mercy is falling like a sweet sweet rain, can remind us of those powerful life giving promises at work within every single one of us.

Our culture teaches us to look for the extraordinary in the sensationalized and overly dramatic.  God's way is different.  God teaches us to look for the extraordinary in the simple ordinary things of life . . . what some theologians called the "sacred ordinary."

We find the sacred ordinary in things like bread and wine which invite us to a holy table . . . in things like the vine and branches of a tree in which we are to abide to bear fruit . . . in things like the simple power of light that shines in the darkness and the darkness does not overcome it . . . and yes, even in things like laundry where the stink and stench of piled up sin are washed away.

Today is laundry day . . . and laundry day reminds me of "sacred ordinary" promises God has made in my life to wash me clean.  Not even warm jeans can compare with that.

Coming Home

I wake up this morning in one of my favorite places in the whole wide world: Celeryville Ohio, Kendra's hometown.  My college room mates used to call it "Pickleville" and we have heard on more than one occasion the term "Hick Town."  We get it, but still, we love this place.

This rail road town speckled with drive thru party stores whose best restaurant goes by the name of "Uncle Dudley's" is a place our family can't wait to get to.  It's not the scenery.  It's not the ambience.  It's not the 9 hole golf course you have to circle twice to make up 18.  Trust me, you don't get post cards with pretty pictures and inviting environments from Celeryville.  What you do get is family.  A family that is real . . . entirely authentic . . . genuinely caring . . . that let's you be who you are with no strings attached.

You don't have to impress anyone here and yet they always leave an impression.  From late night conversations that cross the spectrum of what people talk about, to meals that go on for days, to man games in the woodshed that include eighty something year old Uncle Rog and twelve year old cousin Ben, to golf wrapped up like the Michelin Man just to keep warm; this is a place we all love.

With this week being Thanksgiving and the source of income among the family found in growing and selling vegtables, it has to be said.  You've never experienced Thanksgiving until you celebrate Thanksgiving with a vegtable farmer.  They do it big.  The party begins on Wednesday and lasts until sometime on Sunday afternoon.  Sleep is optional. 

Coming to Celeryville reminds me of a single line you find in every gospel.  The line is simply this: "And Jesus went to his hometown."  He went home.  Even though he wasn't welcomed as a prophet in his hometown . . . even though they couldn't get over his being Messiah instead of the son of a carptenter . . . even though they were as stiff necked as a man in a hosptial brace . . . he went home.  It wasn't the place, it was the people . . . and they were people he loved.

Fredrick Buechner spends three books of memoires writing about the human desire to go home.  About the inate human longing for emotional connection and acceptance.  Essentially, Buechner concludes, that the true home we are all longing for is the place where God is and the people God places in our lives to remind us of Him.  Ultimately the longing is for heaven but there are moments and places where we experience the grace of heaven on earth.

Celeryville is a grace of heaven that reminds me of God.   For that I'm thankful.  Seems an appropriate beginning to Sabbatical.

Stunned

The end of Sunday's combined worship service literally stunned me.  To have a congregation gather around your family in care and blessing, to have friends invest time and effort into creating a memorable video, to hear the excitement and encouragement of heading out on Sabbatical; it was all very humbling.  With only a few more days until we officially begin I've find myself contemplating the blessings God has surrounded my life with.

Here's some brief insight into what's rolling around in my mind:

• I've said this often but it bears repeating: the staff of Faith Reformed Church is incredible.  The genuine investment and passion they have shared with me over the past ten years has been awesome.  These are sisters and brothers in Christ who I love deeply.
• The leadership support within the Faith Church community is inspiring.  Each member of consistory over these past ten years has truly influenced my life in so many meaningful ways.  Thank-you!
• I love the value of being a multi-generational Church.  I am absolutely convinced this is what heaven looks like.  To listen to our children sing while the Sanctuary Choir waits patiently for their turn to share their gifts before God always brings goosebumps.  This truly is one of God's greatest gifts to all of us.
• I'm excited that we are learning to redefine when "Church" happens.  I get to see Church every Thursday night at Vitale's with some of the most caring men I know.  I see it on Wednesday nights as tables are filled and pizza is served and surface conversations cross over into the real places of life.  Please . . . please . . . may we never stop doing these things.
• No church is more caring or compassionate than Faith Reformed Church.  It is beauty on display to watch us care for each other.  Thanks to all those who secretly pray, send cards, or just offer a helping hand.  Although, seemingly small, it is the gospel coming to life.
• While I'm grateful for our church family, I'm also so very thankful for my own family.  One of my repeated saying is "I married out of my league and my kids take after their mom."  It wouldn't be so hokey if it wasn't absolutely true.  Thank-you Kendra for being the most honest and authentic person I know.  You are wife extraordinaire.  Thank-you Kiley and Mark for living faithfully into the people God has created you to be.  As your father, it is an absolute riot to see you live in the sweet spots.
• Finally, but most importantly, I am humbled by God's continued and constant grace.  I don't deserve any of this and yet I thank Him every day.  In the words of Psalm 150 "Praise Him according to his surpassing greatness."  In word: God . . . You are stunning!