Reconnecting with the Sea

I haven't posted on this blog in almost six months. This post marks my third entry in about 5 days. Don't know what's up, I'm just running with it.

Last night I started reading America's Inland Waterway again. It was published by the National Geographic Society in 1973 and then again in paperback in 1983. My family was given a hardback copy signed by the photographer because there are pictures of my great-grandfather Stacy Guthrie in the book. That fact has always been a source of pride for the family. The book is basically a journal of the travels of a small sailing yacht up the Intracoastal Waterway. During part of that journey, the photographer stopped on Harkers Island and the rest is history.

The writer begins his journey in Massachusetts. On of his stops is New Bedford, where Herman Melville received his inspiration to write Moby Dick. As the writer details the emotional connection the locals have with the sea and their boats, I began to reminisce about my own childhood growing up in what was once a fishing village where everyone shared those same kind of connections. I find myself mourning for times lost. I experience naive and romantic notions of moving back home and somehow suddenly becoming an "old salt". I desire to immerse myself in knowledge of the history of my hometown so that I can reconnect with a lost heritage.

Our faith journeys often begin the same way. Something within our souls long to reconnect with something past. It's the calling of the Holy Spirit, inviting us to reconnect with our Creator and repairing the broken relationship severed thousands of years ago in the Garden. We can immerse ourselves in Him as he fills us with his presence. Fortunately for all of us, it's not just a romantic dream but a reality for all who believe.

Will there be Vulcans in Heaven?

No, this is not my attempt to be blasphemous nor overly sarcastic. It is a tongue in cheek question spurred by my recent viewing of Star Trek III: The Search for Spock. Before anyone freaks out that perhaps I have switched my allegiance from the Jedi Universe to be a Trekkie, I really do not consider the two to be mutually exclusive. I will however state that my desire to be a Jedi Master is stronger than my desire to serve aboard the Federation Starship Enterprise.

There is a line early in the movie where Admiral Kirk (he's been promoted) says that IF Spock has an eternal soul, then he, Kirk, must do whatever possible to help Spock. It's an interesting twist that by the 23rd century in the Star Trek universe that it is commonly accepted that there is no divine, there is no after life. Higher powers are simply more highly evolved sentient beings. However, Vulcans still retain an element of mysticism that believes in the eternity of the soul. To add another turn to this odd twist, humans are portrayed as irrational beings, controlled by their emotions whereas Vulcans have eliminated emotions from their beings and are governed solely by logic. How interesting that such a civilization should believe in an afterlife.

Where are we today? Have we become so technologically advanced, so knowledgeable about the workings of the universe that we have eliminated the possibility of the divine and an afterlife (note I use afterlife in the singular, not plural)? Have we misappropriated our use of logic in this endeavor? Have we forgotten that any logical examination of such ideas must at least allow for these possibilities, no matter how remote? Or have we misapplied our scientific principles and ruled out possible conclusions that contradict the results we would prefer?

Believe it or not, I'm not trying to be overly philosophical. I'm asking a basic question. Do your actions, lifestyle, and behavior logically agree with what you say you believe? Or are you living like the confused humans of the 23rd century? Just a thought . . .

Christmas Reflections '09

It's December 26, the day after Christmas (Boxing Day for those of you who maintain roots with England) and a strange one it has been. As I drove my youngest son to the mall to buy a Lego set with some Christmas money he received, today's date shockingly dawned upon me. It shocked me so because except for the fact it took over 30 minutes to travel less than half a mile from the interstate to a parking place and the Christmas decor still adorning the mall, it certainly did not feel like Christmas.

Before I go any further, let me say that one steps onto shaky ground when talking about whether or not it "feels" like something. Christmas is not a feeling. It's either a secular holiday with sacred undertones or a sacred observance with secular trappings, depending on who you are and where you start. The strange thing for me this year is I felt like I had no starting place. It just came and went. All the sacred and all the secular meanings were clearly present, but none of them rang very loudly for me.

Perhaps the economy killed the secular for me. We had managed to save a substantial chuck of change in order to make this a really big Christmas in terms of gifts. But car repairs, medical bills, and rising gas and grocery prices put the kibosh on that. We did manage to salvage a portion of that savings. With the help of Craigslist, we were able to surprise the boys with a Wii.

That actually turned out to be the best part of Christmas - the surprise on the boys faces. It wasn't the best because we got them some huge expensive present. It was the look of satisfaction on the faces before opening the Wii. They knew our financial situation and the very small number of presents under the tree did not faze them. They were very content with the few small things they had received until opening that one big box labeled for both of them. It was a moment I will cherish forever.

Perhaps my return to teaching killed the sacred for me. I have been out of the pulpit for about a year and half now. I turned in my credentials, feeling 100% confident that God has led me away from pastoral ministry. My ministry to students and fellow teachers had resumed after a fifteen year hiatus. Ironically, something about being on the front line as opposed to directing the troop movement from the church office made it seem less so.

Christmas carols have always been my favorite part of Christmas. On the Sunday before Christmas, we sang What Child is This. This line stood out - "Good Christian, fear for sinners here, The silent Word is pleading." It hit me like a ton of bricks - that is what Christmas is all about. That is the mission of Christmas and every Christ follower.

As I reflect on Christmas 2009, though it did not "feel" like Christmas, I must say it has been one of the best ever. Maybe it was more like "Christmas" than I realized.