Category Archives: Sermons

May 28, 2023 · 11:48 am

Pentecost and hope yet unseen

IGRC for Unity Devotional: 5/28/2023

Scripture: Acts 2:1-4; Romans 8:18-31

On this Pentecost Sunday, the Narrative Lectionary gives us the regular Acts 2 story, but combines it with a part of Paul’s letter to the Romans. Romans 8:28 always brings me back in time – to circa 2002 and the very first sermon I preached. I was hired at age 24ish to be youth director at Mackinaw UMC by Rev. Dan Powers.

One Sunday early in my tenure there, I was given a chance to preach. Being 24ish, I picked “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (NIV) as my text.

I don’t remember much about that sermon, but two things stand out. The first are the words of encouragement Rev. Dan (he’ll always be Reverend Dan to me) gave me afterwards. “You really picked a tough one,” he told me without an ounce of sarcasm or incredulity at my hubris for trying to tackle the age-old problem of theodicy in my very first sermon. It was good enough that he asked me to preach again and again, and eventually guided me in my candidacy and helped lead me to seminary. I’ll be forever grateful to him for the patience and guiding care he gave me in my two years at Mackinaw UMC.

The second thing I remember is the face of my Mom after I was done. My Mom was the one who first planted the seed of my call into my heart when I was a teenager. I’ll never forget the look on her face when she saw me living into the role she had seen for me years before.

My relationship with this verse however, has evolved over the years. Twenty years later I do not think I could summarize my view of “all things happening for good” as succinctly or as confidently as I did that day in Mackinaw. I know a deeper sense of loss, of frustration, and grief than I did that day. I’m not saying I have felt great suffering, but I have questioned many times the goodness of all things. I am more acquainted with lament today than I was then.

15 years after that sermon in Mackinaw, I sat beside my mother as she was dying with cancer gripping her brain. At that bedside I experienced the verse that comes a few before v. 28, “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness, for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with groanings too deep for words.” (Romans 8:26, NRSV).

Paul reminds the Romans that suffering is a part of life. Indeed, for those who follow Christ, it should be an expected part of life. Not because God wills suffering on the faithful, but because the world will pour out suffering on those who follow Christ. And God will pour out grace to overcome it all. The way of Christ is a way of love, patience, generosity, forgiveness, and justice. This way is often met with fear and reprisal. In fact, Paul’s message of the Cross is that love will suffer these things. The Cross is a reminder that love will bear these things for the sake of love, even in the midst of suffering.

God doesn’t give us suffering, but the Cross is a reminder that Jesus endured suffering for the sake of love, and resurrection is a reminder that love wins. Christ crucified and Christ resurrected reveals God can transform the worst suffering the world can dole out.

It is the Holy Spirit that raised Christ from the dead. It is the Holy Spirit that blew through an upper room in Jerusalem and swept the disciples out in the public square to testify to the Risen One. It is the Holy Spirit the empowered those disciples with visions and dreams and words of prophecy and love. It was the Holy Spirit that gave Paul confidence to hope for what is to come despite all worldly evidence that said he should fear.

It was the Holy Spirit that swept over me this past Sunday as I laid my hands on my nephew being confirmed in a Lutheran Church near my hometown. I heard my Mother’s voice as we sang her favorite hymn. I saw my mother’s face look down upon Luke in the same way she looked upon me that day in Mackinaw. I felt the Holy Spirit which gives me hope for things yet unseen.

It is the Holy Spirit that is sweeping through churches still. When the world is swept up in anger and violence. When wayward teens looking for directions are greeted at porches with guns. When nations are invaded by despots. When rainbow stickers on Target trigger anger and threats, the Holy Spirit speaks prayers of groaning too deep for words. The world experiencing labor pains, but the joy of the Kingdom is coming. The suffering we endure will be transformed.

The Holy Spirit, which raised Christ from the dead, will raise this Church up too. When the wind of the Holy Spirit sweeps through our sanctuaries and pushes us out into the world in desperate need of love and grace. When the Holy Spirit reconciles the Church to the ones who have been harmed by dogma. When the Holy Spirit gives us the confidence we need to stand strong for justice and compassion. When we recognize the power of the Holy Spirit working in the lives of all people. When the Holy Spirit fills all people with the power of love instead of the love of power, we will know peace. We will know Resurrection. May the winds of the Holy Spirit blow.

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April 9, 2023 · 8:57 am

Two Easter stories

Matthew 28:1-15

They say this is the golden age of television. The streaming services, hungry for content, have empowered new story tellers to tell incredible stories. The stories being told are incredibly entertaining. They wrestle with true emotion, blend lines between comedy and drama, create fantastic new worlds, and reveal truths about society, masculinity, racism, inclusion, and emotional intelligence. There are so many new, incredible stories being told and so many ways to watch them it can be overwhelming.

Thank God for the “Previously On…” feature. We can jump from show to show and get caught up real quick on what’s going on. The “previously on” segment usually gives clues about what is coming in the show at hand. There are often so many story lines and threads running through a show, the “previously on” can give us a reminder, “oh yeah, I remember that guy” or “oh, so they did meet at that one party.”

On Easter, we might need a “previously on.” Especially if we left off at the Triumphal Entry. The fact is, a lot happened during the week. We may need a summary reminder of all that is happening, because Good Friday was a heck of a cliff-hanger. The season ended with Jesus dead and sealed in a tomb. But Matthew gives us one little detail that we could easily miss (and is unique to Matthew).

Matthew 27:62-66 would be easy to miss, but consider this your “previously on” reminder. The powerful men that had Jesus killed were scared. They were afraid that they had just made a martyr, and that his violent and shameful death wouldn’t be enough to erase him like they wanted. So they went to Pilate and asked for a guard. They asked for a guard because they had been listening. “He told his followers that he would rise, so let’s make sure we have guards there.”

They put armed guards at the tomb to make sure Jesus’ disciples didn’t come, steal the body, and spread crazy rumors about resurrection (and just in case he did actually rise, they would be there to kill him again).

Then, very early on the first day of the week something happened. The women showed up. It is commonly understood that the women came to anoint the body. This is the story in Mark and Luke. In Matthew however, they did not bring in oils or spices. Jesus had already been anointed – back in 26:6-13 (and perhaps it was one of these women who did it). Maybe, instead of showing up to anoint a dead body, they were showing up because they believed what he had told them so many times. Perhaps the women were there for the same reason the guards were – because they remembered that Jesus said he would be raised. And then…

The earth quaked. Lightning flashed. And angel of the LORD appeared, and the guards were paralyzed with fear. The women however, were faithful. They heard the words of the angel and believed. They knew that Jesus was risen and they went to tell. Then on the way back to the disciples, they knew completely. Christ had risen. He was risen indeed, and the greatest story ever told had reached its series finale.

The stories we well entertain us, but the stories we believe shape us. When we believe stories of justice, we make be inspired to work for justice. When we believe stories of hope, we may hold onto hope when it seems to be gone. When we believe stories of new life, we may know new life. When we believe in the Kingdom of Heaven, we may live in the Kingdom of Heaven.

Matthew tells us that Jesus rose, and he also told us that two stories emerged that day. Two stories were born on Easter morning. One story was the one the guards told. Paralyzed by fear, paid off by the powerful who wanted to end the Christ story, they told a story of death. They told a story of grave robbers and lies.

The women told another story.

And both stories remain to this day. The story of Empire is still told. It is a story of exploitation disguised as liberty, prejudice disguised as holiness, destructive conspiracy disguised as truth telling, and money buying power disguised as care for the poor. The story of Empire is thriving. Its aim is to paralyze with fear and incite mobs to release Barabas. Its aim is to mock those who wish to stay awake in the garden of Gethsemane. Its aim is convincing people that everyone who disagrees is an enemy, and that opposition is demonic. Its aim is to keep peace at all costs, but their peace is not a peace of Christ. It is not a peace won by justice or love. It is a peace won by the sword. It is a peace won by dominance and fear. The Roman guards told a story of lies that Matthew says persists to this very day. They told a story that said “Jesus is dead.”

But the story of the women persists as well. The women told a story of a different kind of Kingdom. The women told the story of the Peace of Christ that ends not at the Cross but at an empty tomb. The women told the story of an earth-shattering new reality. They told the story of worship and adoration. They told the story that the Kingdom of Heaven was at hand. They told the story that “Jesus is risen!”

The stories we tell may entertain us, but the stories we believe shape us.

Which story will we believe?

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July 8, 2022 · 4:57 pm

Jesus forgave them from the cross, but didn’t come back to hang out with them.

Forgiveness is at the heart of Christianity and is an important theme in the Gospel of Luke, in particular. In this passage we have the famous line, “Father forgive them, for they know now what they do.” It is statement that is unique to Luke’s story, and it is emblematic of Jesus’ entire ministry. That words of forgiveness were on his lips as he breathed his last are fitting.

Looking backward and forward you see that forgiveness is a part of the message. Even before Jesus was born, John the Baptist was preaching about forgiveness. After the resurrection, Jesus’ last command before his ascension is for the disciples to bring the word of forgiveness to the world.

Forgiveness is an integral part of the Kingdom of God. That Jesus himself forgave others was a part of why he was even on the Cross. The tensions between him and the religious leadership began when Jesus started to forgive sins.  In chapters five and seven, Jesus heals someone in front of the religious leadership. They are not upset with his healing, but they grumble when he claims to forgive their sins.

In the prayer Jesus taught us, our own forgiveness seems linked to the forgiveness we offer to others (that was always my least favorite part of the Lord’s Prayer). Forgiveness, both receiving and offering, is an important part of the Christian faith.

Modern psychologists and social scientists agree. Forgiveness is an important part of a healthy life. Many studies have been done to show that forgiveness leads to greater health outcomes—both physical and mental. Forgiveness is an act of tearing down boundaries. Sin can be seen as something that destroys relationship. It puts obstacles between people and between people and God. Forgiveness is the act of tearing down those obstacles and restoring right relationship. Forgiveness is the path toward shalom.

God’s shalom is the origin of all creation. Shalom has been lost, but restoring Shalom is the purpose of Jesus’ life, ministry, death, and resurrection.

Yet rushing into forgiveness is not true forgiveness. One cannot get to forgiveness without first processing pain, experiencing anger, and allowing time and space for forgiveness to take root. Forgiveness cannot be forced upon anyone. Forgiveness is not the same as acting nice for propriety’s sake. Forgiveness is not about making everyone get along so that we can have a picture of a happy family for the Christmas card.

Forgiveness is about returning to yourself. It is about getting past barriers of pain, fear, resentment. Forgiveness restores our hearts, but it does not always lead to restored relationship. Jesus forgave those that mocked him while he was on the Cross, but when he came back on Sunday morning, he didn’t hang out with them. He broke bread with his disciples in Emmaus, not with the leaders and soldiers who mocked him. He forgave those who hurt him, but he didn’t come back to them. Dr. Thema Bryant first pointed this out to me at a lecture I attended, and it hit home.

Jesus forgave those that mocked him. It was an incredible act of grace in the midst of his pain and suffering. He looked down at those who had hung him on that tree, felt compassion through all of the pain and suffering, and forgave them. It is a powerful moment in the Gospel of Luke and should never be overlooked. But as Dr. Bryant pointed out to us, when he came back, he didn’t hang out with the soldiers and the leaders and the people who insulted him. He came back to be with his friends.

When we go through trauma, abuse, or emotional torment, boundaries are particularly important. It is possible to forgive someone and not walk back into a relationship that will hurt you again. God wills forgiveness in our lives, but God does not will for you to be hurt over and over again.

Reconciliation is God’s ultimate will for all relationships, but on this side of eternity, it is not always possible. Sometimes in order to protect our own shalom, relationships must end. Boundaries are an important part of self care and self love. God wills shalom in your life, and that might mean firm boundaries with some relationships. It means forgiveness, but it doesn’t always mean reconciliation.

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April 16, 2022 · 8:09 pm

Call them by name

“Abrazo de Jesus” by Felix Hernandez http://www.felixhernandezop.com/internet.php#

Scripture: John 20:11-19

11 “Mary stood outside near the tomb, crying. As she cried, she bent down to look into the tomb. 12 She saw two angels dressed in white, seated where the body of Jesus had been, one at the head and one at the foot. 13 The angels asked her, “Woman, why are you crying?”

She replied, “They have taken away my Lord, and I don’t know where they’ve put him.” 14 As soon as she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she didn’t know it was Jesus.

15 Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you crying? Who are you looking for?”

Thinking he was the gardener, she replied, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him and I will get him.”

16 Jesus said to her, “Mary.”

She turned and said to him in Aramaic, “Rabbouni” (which means Teacher).

17 Jesus said to her, “Don’t hold on to me, for I haven’t yet gone up to my Father. Go to my brothers and sisters and tell them, ‘I’m going up to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’”

18Mary Magdalene left and announced to the disciples, “I’ve seen the Lord.” Then she told them what he said to her.

He called her by name, and everything changed.

Weeping, inconsolable, desperate for any information anyone could give, she was stopped in her tracks with one word. Her name.

She was unfazed by two angels standing in a tomb that she just saw was empty. When they were no help, she turned toward a gardener, and cried out, “I do not know where they have put my Lord.” She was searching frantically. She watched him suffer. She watched him die. She could still smell the scent of the oils she had poured over his feet (although this is ambiguous, there is a strong argument by Diana Butler Bass among others that claim that the Mary who anointed Jesus’ feet is this same woman known as Mary Magdalene). The feet she had washed with her tears and hair were pierced in front of her. He was dead.

And now he was gone. Adding insult to shameful injury, he was gone. She must have turned her head again after asking the gardener about him because when he spoke her name the Scripture says she had to turn again to face him.

“Mary,” he said, and everything changed.

Reading between the lines, I am pretty sure that she said “Teacher!” then threw her arms around him and they embraced (Why else would he say, “Do not hold onto me,” unless she was already holding onto him?).

Why didn’t she recognize him? Was he transformed in some way? Was his resurrected form intrinsically different? Was she just too frantic to notice? Was it just too improbable to believe? Whatever reason she did not recognize him, that all changed when he called her by name. He saw her, and she saw resurrection. In that moment she experienced the new life in Christ. She was the first person to experience Easter. She was the first person to witness Resurrection, and she knew it in one beautiful moment when he recognized her first. He called her by name and new life began.

Call her by her name. Call him by his name. Is it too much to ask? She might have transformed in ways you may not recognize. He may have cut his hair shorter than you’re used to. They might use awkward pronouns that you’re not used to using. Call them by name, and you might give them new life.

Call them by name, and they might recognize love that they feared was dead. Call him by name – maybe  not the name you are used to, maybe not the name you know. Call him by the name he has chosen, not the dead name he has left behind.

Call her by name – maybe in clothes you find odd, or after treatments you do not understand. Call her by name because she has earned that much. Call her by name because Christ calls her by name. She has agonized in a prison she was born in. She has hidden for so long. She is fearful every time she claims her name. She is fearful of the strange looks, the scornful whispers, the outright violence that is done to women and men like her every day.

Call him by name.

Call her by name.

Call them by name.

That they might know that they are beloved.

Call him by name.

Call her by name.

Call them by name.

And in that moment they may know eternal life.

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February 22, 2018 · 10:05 pm

Solitude vs Loneliness

This Lent I have started a new series called “Deeper.” The idea is to take the six weeks of Lent to go deeper with our faith, and to go deeper in our relationship with God. Many of us barely scratch the surface when it comes to examining our relationship with God. This Lent, let’s try and go deeper. Each Sunday I will look at a practice that can help us connect on a deeper level with God. The problem, as I see it, is that many of these things that can help us go deeper, can also have a dangerous side. This Sunday I explore solitude.

Solitude is an important part of the spiritual life. Jesus pursued solitude, and was often drawn out of his own yearning for solitude by the needs of the people. In fact, the Bible story for this sermon includes Jesus withdrawing to a deserted place, only to be ‘tracked down’ by Peter. When Jesus was told that there was a crowd waiting for him, he says, “Let’s go the other way.” I take a closer look at this story, and this aspect of Jesus’ personality that we often forget.

The problem with solitude, however, is that there is a fine line between it and loneliness. The same empty house that can be exhilarating to the exhausted parent can be crippling to the newly widowed. I encourage us all this Lent to “seek solitude and redeem loneliness.”

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February 10, 2016 · 11:36 am

Breaking the Silence (part 3): Domestic Violence

Domestic ViolenceThis is the final part of my three part series called Breaking the Silence. It was an emotional set of sermons, each dealing with important topics that have too often been ignored in the Church. I am in the process of creating brochures to go along with these three sermons, so that others can get the facts and help loosen the stigma that so often keeps people from getting the help they need.

For domestic violence, there seems to be an important Biblical understanding that needs to be addressed and reshaped. The nature of marriage and divorce has often been used to keep people, especially women, in abusive relationships. The sermon below goes into more detail, but it should be said that the Biblical understanding of a marriage is that it is between two people who are in a covenant relationship to be mutually submissive. When some cherry-pick Scripture to read “wives submit to their husbands,” they often leave out the surrounding paragraphs which are inevitably about love and kindness. The Bible describes relationships built on mutuality, not hierarchy. Secondly, a divorce does not end a marriage. Violence ends a marriage. A divorce may be the legal ending of a marriage, but a covenant relationship of love, respect, and mutual submission is broken not with a signed document, but with spiritual, emotional, sexual, or physical abuse. There are other ways that a marriage may end, but in regards to this issue, too many women have been trapped inside a destructive relationship in the name of “saving a marriage.”

If you are in an abusive relationship, I implore you, save yourself. The marriage is already destroyed. Call the police and get out, then call the Pastor to seek healing.

Breaking the Silence Series

Mental Health: Silent No More

Suicide: Nothing Separates

Domestic Violence: Call Police, Not Pastor

 

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January 27, 2016 · 11:04 am

Suicide: Nothing Separates

This is my sermon from January 24, 2016, preached at Two Rivers United Methodist Church in Rock Island, Illinois. It is about the importance of compassion and care for those that are both contemplating suicide, and for families who have endured it. Any conversation about suicide must begin with the truth that “nothing [not even suicide] can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.”

If you or someone you love is struggling with suicidal thoughts, call 1-800-273-8255.

Breaking the Silence Series

Mental Health: Silent No More

Suicide: Nothing Separates

Domestic Violence: Call Police, Not Pastor

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January 26, 2016 · 9:52 pm

Mental Illness: Silent No More

This is my sermon from January 17, 2016 at Two Rivers United Methodist Church in Rock Island, Illinois. The Church needs to do more to help fight stigma attached to mental illness. I want to thank Sarah Griffith Lund for helping me come to a deeper understanding of this issue.

Breaking the Silence Series

Mental Health: Silent No More

Suicide: Nothing Separates

Domestic Violence: Call Police, Not Pastor

Listen to our conversation with Sarah Griffith Lund, the author of Blessed are the Crazy, in this Pulpit Fiction episode.

STIGMA IS UGLY

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September 18, 2015 · 6:38 pm

The Gospel According to Pixar: Toy Story

I doubt it was an intentional allusion, but did you notice what shape these two form? Look familiar?

I doubt it was an intentional allusion, but did you notice what shape these two form? Look familiar?

Where do you find meaning? This is a big question. It may be THE big question. What is the meaning of life? What is the purpose of living? You may not realize it, but this is the question of the Toy Story saga. Over three incredible movies, the characters of Toy Story are searching for meaning.

The toys, especially the two main characters, Woody and Buzz, at different times face existential crises searching for meaning as they come to grips with their own mortality. Their mortality is wrapped up in the life of their owner, Andy. In the first movie Buzz faces the reality of being a toy and not a Space Ranger. In the second movie Woody has to choose between “immortality” in a museum, or life with a kid who will eventually grow up. In the third movie all of the toys face their impending loss of purpose as Andy goes to college.

When Woody meets Buzz, Woody is a sure and determined leader of the toys. He knows his purpose. He has a laser focus as Andy’s favorite toy. When Buzz shows up his status is threatened. To make matters worse, Buzz has delusions of grandeur. Woody mocks Buzz because Buzz believes that he is a space ranger. He comes to Andy’s room convinced that he is on an alien planet, and must find and defeat the evil Zurg.

Buzz faces a crisis when he realizes that the storyline of his life isn’t real. It is just a storyline for a TV show designed to sell toys. He is one of thousands of Buzz Lightyears” that line supermarket aisles. It is Woody who convinces Buzz that his purpose is far grander than defeating Zurg.

“I can’t help anyone… I’m not a Space Ranger. I’m just a toy. A stupid, little insignificant toy,” says Buzz.

“Whoah, hey, wait a minute. Being a toy is a lot better than being a Space Ranger,” Woody exclaims.

“Yeah right.”

“No, it is. Over in that house is a kid who thinks you’re the greatest. And it’s not because you’re a Space Ranger, pal. It’s because you’re a toy. You are his toy.”

Woody redefines Buzz and gives him purpose. No longer does his purpose revolve around catching the evil Zurg. Instead, it is to be with a boy. Toy Story ends with Woody and Buzz realizing something about their purpose. Woody is not defined by his status, and Buzz is not defined by his ‘job.’ They are both defined by their relationship to Andy, and to each other.

In Toy Story 2 it is Woody who has the crisis when he discovers that he is not just a toy, but that he is a collectible. His value is altered, and he is faced with a decision. He can define himself through Andy, where his value will inevitably deteriorate as Andy grows up and plays less with his toys; or he can define himself as a collectible and be a part of a museum forever.

Knowing that Andy will eventually “put him away,” he decides to go with immortality at the museum. Fearing that he has been kidnapped, Buzz and the other toys go on a perilous adventure to find him. Risking everything for the sake of their friend, they finally find Woody, and the following scene ensues:

We witness Woody’s change of heart when he is reminded of who he is. He is reminded of the mark that was placed on him by the one who loved him more than all. He is reminded of the love of his friends, and the fact that they were willing to risk everything for him.

Jesus, when speaking to his disciples at the Last Supper in the Gospel of John tells them this, “This is my commandment: love each other just as I have loved you. No one has greater love than to give up one’s life for one’s friends.” (John 15:12-13, CEB). Jesus had a firm grasp on the transforming power of love. He said these things to the disciples when he knew that his time on earth was coming to a close. He says these things to them even while he knew that his path led to the cross. He told them they were his friends. He told them to love each as I have loved you. He told them there is no greater love than to lay one’s life down for one’s friends. Then he went out and did it.

That’s the kind of love that can transform hearts. That is the kind of love that can make people stop on their tracks and reconsider their path. Another way of putting it: It’s the kind of love that can cause you to repent, and believe that the Kingdom of God is at hand.

Woody’s heart was transformed by the love of his friends. In all my time as a writer, pastor, and Christian, I don’t think I’ve ever convinced anyone to Christ. I don’t think I’ve ever persuaded anyone to repent. If I’ve done anything, I’ve loved them to Christ. If I have done anything, I have loved people to a deeper understanding of God’s love. I’ve written, preached, talked, teached, but nothing counts as much as the times that I have been a friend. I’m not sure I’ve ever laid my life down for a friend, but I have laid down my time. I have laid down my own vulnerability. I have laid down my compassion and kindness.

More importantly, when I have had moments of doubt. When I have questioned everything. When I have wondered aloud about my own purpose, it has never been a well-constructed argument that brought me back. It has been the time, care, kindness, and love of friends that has reminded me. There have been times when competing ideas of the purpose of my life have waged a war in my mind. Like anyone, I have had late nights wondering about where the value of my life may lie. There are times when I’ve been lost, but every time there was someone there to remind me to look down at the bottom of my foot, recall who and whose I am, and come back to my purpose: to love.

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September 18, 2015 · 4:03 pm

The Gospel According to Pixar: Finding Nemo

Dear Daughters,

On your first day of Kindergarten I wore sunglasses. It was a sunny day, but that is not why I wore the shades. I wore them because I didn’t want you to see. I didn’t want you to see the redness in my eyes or the tears flowing down my cheeks. Your mother and I walked behind as you and your sister walked together, hand in hand, toward the school. It looked so big, and you looked so tiny. Your head seemed to barely peak over the top of your backpack, which was wider than your body even though it carried only the lunch I had just made for you.

You walked to the big lot where all the other kids were waiting. Other parents. Other sunglasses. I wasn’t embarrassed of my tears. Everyone who knows me knows that I a crier. You even know it, but not today. I didn’t want you to be thinking about my tears. You had enough to deal with. You found your line. We gave you hugs and waited for your teachers to come. And she did. The line of kindergarteners started to move. Some of the parents walked with their little ones. It was a first-day exception to the rule that I was not aware of. I didn’t know that we could walk in with you. So Mommy asked. She bent low and said to you, “Do you want us to come with you or do you want to go alone?”

“I want to go alone,” you said. And into the deep blue you swam.

Into the deep, fraught with dangers on all sides, you ventured. There, kids could be mean to you. There, teachers could crush your spirit. There, cafeteria chaos loomed. There, I would not be able to scoop you up if you called out, “Daddy uppy!” There, into the deep you swam. There you ventured out, wanting to go alone. Needing to go alone. It is possible to be both overjoyed and terrified at the same time. For in that moment I was joyful that you were ready. I was so proud of my brave, independent, smart little girl; and I was terrified for my precious, vulnerable, sensitive little girl. So I waved, and I watched you as long as I could. Then you were in the building, and somehow I went about my day until it was 3 p.m., and I found that you had survived.

Finding Nemo is about a Dad, Marlin, trying to find his son, Nemo. Along the way Marlin bumps into Dory, a wonderfully optimistic fish with an extremely short attention-span. She reminds Marlin that when things look difficult, the best thing to do sometimes is “just keep swimming.”  Most of the story of the movie is of their adventure. They engage much danger along the way, encounter strange creatures, and develop a lasting friendship. Meanwhile Nemo is made a pet, trapped in a tank in a seaside Dentist’s office. Here, Nemo makes some unlikely friends, draws on his own courage and teamwork. Eventually, Marlin and Nemo are reunited, and through the power of teamwork and positive thinking, they are freed from a fisherman’s net.

It is a wonderful adventure, but it is easy to forget how it all started.

I get Marlin. Here, on Nemo’s first day of school, he is rightly worried. Maybe he goes overboard, but I understand his desire to protect his son, and I cringe at Nemo’s open defiance. Marlin knows that the deep blue is a dangerous place. He knows that something as simple as touching a boat can get you killed. I struggle with the same emotions as Marlin. I think every parent does, and I don’t expect it to get any easier. The dangers just seem to get bigger as life goes on. In the end, all I can do is trust.

I trust that the things your Mom and I have taught you can hold true even in the midst of hardship. I trust that you feel my love and my presence even if I’m not there at your side. I trust that there will be others that care about you that will guide you on your way. I trust that there will be friends who will love you for who you are. I trust that your own strength and resourcefulness will surprise you when you need it. Above all, I trust that the same shepherd who guides and protects me through the darkest valley is the same shepherd who will watch you too. If I am to claim faith in the Scriptures, and find solace in words like the 23rd Psalm for struggles in my own life, it means I have to find solace in them for you as well. Even though you will walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil. For the same rod and staff that protects me, protects you as well. Surely goodness and mercy pursues you as relentlessly as it pursues me, too.

Holding onto this is the only way that I can let go of you, and letting you go is precisely my job as your father. The only way for you to become the amazing women that God has created you to be is if I allow you to venture. I have to allow you to get lost, to play in the rain, to have your heart broken, to scrape your knee. You both have so many gifts. You have incredible kindness and curiosity. You are ferocious and gentle. You are passionate and loyal, and sometimes agonizingly stubborn. So go out into the deep blue.

Explore. Fall. Imagine. Sing. Bless. Feed. Dance. Play. Read. Love. Fail. Forgive. There will be hard days, and sometimes the best thing to do is just keep swimming.

Through it all know that no matter what, I will pursue you with as much goodness and faithful love as I can.

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Finding Nemo Meme

in this family, we love

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