Sadness and Joy

It was a bitterly cold Sunday morning in early February. I dragged myself out of bed early that day and headed out to pick up Dan and Will, two of my best friends. On a typical Sunday, we’d all be heading off to church, but this Sunday was different. On this particular winter morning, we granted ourselves a special dispensation from attending church, so we could head downtown to witness a historical moment in the history of the city of Pittsburgh. With coffee and donuts in hand, we stood on the banks of the Allegheny River, right under the Sixth Street Bridge, and watched this.

And just like that, Three Rivers Stadium, home of the Pirates and Steelers for over 30 years, was gone. All three of us spent much of our childhood attending baseball and football games at Three Rivers. For all of us, our formative memories as sports enthusiasts took place there, our fathers toting us there from the time we could walk, teaching us about these wonderful games that gave us such joy.

There we were, ready to watch our childhood home turn into a pile of rubble. As the time of implosion drew near, we shared stories of our childhood visits to Three Rivers. Together, we lamented the loss of something that meant so much to us. But as the morning wore on, our eyes began to be drawn away from Three Rivers and toward the new structure just across the river: PNC Park. Our sadness of losing Three Rivers began to give way to our excitement about a new, beautiful, baseball only stadium. And so it was that our emotions were tossed about that morning, alternatively weeping for what was lost and shouting for joy at what the future held. Dan was more excited than sad, but Will and I were still more sad than excited. But together, we stood there and watched as our past was torn down, and the future called us in.

In Ezra 3:10-13, we hear a very similar story: the beautiful story of the Israelites laying a foundation for rebuilding the temple in Jerusalem. As the foundation was laid, the community came out to celebrate the completion of the first phase of the rebuilding process. And as we hear, some were reminded of the previous temple, and wept at the loss of what they once held so dear. Others shouted for joy, energized by the prospect of what was in store in the future. But in this holy moment, the shouts of grief and the shouts of joy came together as one sound, “so that the people could not distinguish the sound of the joyful shout from the sound of the people’s weeping.”

I suspect that some of us in the Christian Church may identify with the weepers – those who mourn the loss of former glory, those who fondly remember the wonderful religious heritage that has preceded us. It is a heritage from which we all have come, one that formed and shaped the church we see today.

And, I suspect there are also some of us who identify with the joyful shouters – those who are energized and excited about what the future holds, those who might even look on religious heritage and say, “Good riddance!”

The reality is that most of us are probably somewhere in between. Many of us lament the loss of what we had as the body of Christ, but are also excited about what we might yet have. But what’s so interesting about this story in Ezra is that everyone – both the tearful and the joyful – are there. Whether they celebrate the foundation being laid or they shed tears over it, all are here to support the rebuilding of the temple. Whether they want the temple rebuilt in this way or not, they care enough to show up. And in a beautiful, spirit-filled moment, all the shouts of lament and shouts of joy blend into a single shout, and it becomes impossible to distinguish the tearful from the joyful. It is one body, with one voice, coming from one past, marching into one future.

What a beautiful model for facing the uncertain future that is before us now. What an example these Israelites provide for us – whether we long for the past or we wish to race energetically into the future, it is time to become one voice. It is time to balance each other out, for each of us to add to the one sound, rooting ourselves in the past but also embracing the future that lies ahead.

If you are a weeper, we need you to remind us of the glorious past that got us here. And if you are a joyful shouter, we need you to show us the way into the future. It is time to become that one voice, where no individual is silenced, where each one of us contributes to a joyful noise in praise of the Lord.

So, whether we weep or shout for joy or fall somewhere in between, let us all praise the Lord with our voices. Let us honor the reality that we have different voices, and we all may view the past and future a little differently, but if here in the present we center ourselves on the Lord, those many voices will combine as one voice, even if just for one moment. So let us cry. Let us shout. Let us praise God together.

And are we yet alive,
And see each others face?
Glory and thanks to Jesus give
For his almighty grace!

What troubles have we seen,
What mighty conflicts past,
Fightings without, and fears within,
Since we assembled last.

Does God make the schedule for MLB?

Today is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent. Today is also the first day of Major League Baseball's Spring Training, as pitchers and catchers reported to camps at noon. Lent ends on Easter Sunday, which this year is celebrated on April 4. That also happens to be the date of baseball's opening night. So, in a crazy alignment of professional baseball scheduling and the liturgical calendar, Spring Training and Lent perfectly overlap in 2010. This made me realize just how much these two seasons of preparation have in common. Without further ado, the top 5 ways Spring Training and Lent are similar:

5. I look forward to them both.

4. We turn our eyes upon Jesus, as well as Jesus.

3. Both are times of intense examination.

2. Both consist of purging what is bad and calling up what is good.

1. Both end with the hope-filled celebration of a new beginning.

Mr. Winter is not a benevolent deity

Our power went out again yesterday afternoon, just before the new storm arrived. I escaped just in time, plodding along snowy roads at 25 mph all the way to my parents' house. Lisa met me there after work, and we became "homeless" freeloaders once again. Our house got power back last night, but we still haven't made it back.

Lisa went to work today in our Subaru, so I'm still stuck at my parents' house with our Corolla. The way the roads are, I won't make it back in that little front-wheel drive car. There's too many gigantic hills between here and there that it surely will not climb, no matter how much it thinks it can.

It's a good thing I brought my laptop with me, and a really good thing my dad is also a pastor, so I can borrow his resources and at least get some work done. Meanwhile, we're making up our plan as we go from hour to hour, constantly monitoring weather reports and road conditions. This is the worst storm I've ever lived through, and it is absolutely, certifiably crazy. I'm someone who lives almost completely by routines and rituals, so all this is really a challenge for me. Normally I love winter and snow, but right now I'm not excited about all the interruptions and the plans going awry. Still, thanks be to God that for us, it's merely been a week of inconvenience. It seems like most people are getting by just fine as well...for now. There's no telling what the next hour, day, or week will bring.

Punxsy Phil Was Indeed Correct

As you've probably heard by now, the "6 more weeks of winter" kicked off this weekend with quite a snowstorm in the mid-Atlantic. Here in Southwestern PA, the 21 inches of snow in less than a 24 hour period made for the 4th largest single storm in the history of the region. Another storm is apparently on its way with a pedestrian 5 inches expected Tuesday night. Reports say that over a hundred thousand households in this region alone lost power for an extended period of time starting late Friday night. Our church and parsonage, along with more than half of our town, was part of that statistic.

We were fortunate enough to have only about 44 hours without power (and thus, heat), in our home and at the church over the weekend. Many are still without power, but it seems like both Allegheny Power and Duquesne Light are working quickly to restore power, hopefully before this next storm. As far as I know, all of our congregation survived or is surviving without injury or much property damage, although many are scrambling to prevent bursting pipes after they froze over Saturday night when the temperatures dipped into negative.

Lisa and I have found the entire ordeal to be quite an adventure. As much as possible, we tried to make the most of the situation. Saturday morning we woke up to no power, but our house was still 63 degrees inside -- not any different than a normal winter morning. We walked over to the church and shoveled snow there for about 2 hours, then returned home for another half hour of shoveling. We then spent the afternoon reading, napping, and eating whatever we could in the fridge that was in danger of spoiling. For dinner, we couldn't cook anything because our stove is electric. But fortunately, the church has a gas stove. So, we went to the church and made dinner over there, cooking and eating with the help of flashlights and electric camping lanterns.

We called around to spread word that church was canceled on Sunday, and returned to our then 54 degree home for some board games and yes, ice cream - it was the only way to save it! We turned on all the faucets overnight to avoid frozen pipes, which in hindsight probably saved us from burst pipes. We pulled out our down sleeping bags and had a nice warm night of sleep in them. But, when we woke up Sunday morning, our house was down to 34 degrees. Thinking it wasn't the best idea to spend the day in that environment, we ventured out on the still icy roads for brunch in a warm restaurant. When we returned home, it had risen to 36 degrees, but still too cold to stay in. Plus, how would we watch the Super Bowl???

Fortunately, many of our parishioners live on the west side of town, where most homes had power. One family had offered to let us stay with them as long as needed, so by Sunday afternoon we decided to take them up on their offer. We packed up our things, headed over, and took our first showers since Friday morning. We shared dinner together in a warm home, full of laughter. We played Wii and watched the Super Bowl together. It was nothing less than extravagant hospitality, and we were very fortunate to have such a wonderful family open up their home to us in our "time of need." As a pastor, I typically spend a lot of my time being there for others, serving them in their own times of need. It was strange to be on the other side of that for once, being the one served rather than the one serving.

Finally, we returned to our home at 10 pm Sunday night after hearing from a neighbor that power had come back on around 7 pm. The house was still 48 degrees, but definitely warm enough to live in again. We went to bed dreaming of waking up to a fully heated home. And when we arose this morning, we were back up to 63 degrees in the home! Thanks be to God!

Today, many people are still without power, and some are furiously battling frozen pipes in danger of bursting. A neighboring United Methodist Church is currently assessing their broken boiler, which it appears will need to be replaced. We're not out of the storm just yet, the roads are still sheets of ice in many places, and another storm is on its way. But in these adventures of winterland, I cannot help but think of how fortunate we are. I've used that word a lot in my description of the weekend, because that's how I felt and continue to feel. We are lucky. We are fortunate. We are blessed.

Thank God that our "emergency" means that for almost everyone around here, life will return to normal within a week's time. In the midst of our storm (literal and figurative), I continue to remember those who are still recovering from truly devastating disasters -- ones from years ago, as well as those in Haiti who have become homeless for more than the day or two we were "homeless."

Personally, Lisa and I are very blessed that our abundance has made this no more than a 2 day inconvenience where our biggest worry was, "How will we watch the Super Bowl?" I am grateful for the hospitality that many people have extended to their neighbors, including that which we received. I am grateful for the men and women who continue to work around the clock to repair power lines and get electric back to as many people as possible in what has thus far been a miraculously short period of time. I am also thankful for those who continue to work hard to keep the roads as clear as possible. Both snow plow drivers and power company workers have probably had very little time for rest over the last few days, and their families probably have not seen much of them at all. What services they provide, services that we so often take for granted! It is times like these that remind us how truly blessed we are to have electric in our homes and businesses, as well as clear roads, and it is because of others that we do have these luxuries. Thanks be to God!