The Best Laid Plans (a Steve Orr Epiphany reflection)

"The best laid schemes of mice and men go oft astray" wrote poet Robert Burns. My experience agrees.

It hasn't put me off scheming, completely, but at times I wonder why I bother. I plan, organize, time-manage, equip, assemble, deploy, and, in some cases, accessorize; not to mention hurry, fret, placate, rearrange, orient, and clock-watch. But, it just doesn't quite work out. To paraphrase German military strategist Field Marshall Moltke: "No plan survives actual contact with the enemy."

I don't think either of these men would want their thoughts misconstrued. Moltke was really saying "fret not;" and rather, to always plan well, recognizing you just cannot anticipate everything. Have enough contingencies that you can be creative in your response when the inevitable breakdown occurs. In fact, he not-so-famously also said, "Strategy is a system of expedients."

And Burns was apologizing to a mouse.

He recognized the fact that disappointment often follows the realization that our plans are not unfolding as we intended. Burns is sorry his plowing has destroyed the mouse's home, but he is also a little envious that the mouse can focus only on the present, while Burns regrets the past and fears the future.

I've had good reason, from time to time, to reflect on the philosophies of these two men. I had a scheme or two go astray, more than one plan expire in the face of reality. These things happen to us, don't they?” Frankly, all the planning in the world can't prevent them.

We can and should make plans.

But we need to be ready to "roll with the punch" because the punch is going to come. We will have to make a course correction, to put it in nautical terms. And beyond the "what" of that creative response is something perhaps even more important: the "how."

We are free to choose any solution that satisfies us.

We could just throw up our hands and leave. Let's face it: if you don't feel angry at the unfolding events, the other go-to choice is self-blame followed by surrender. And speaking of anger, we can, as my Great Aunt Vera used to say, "throw a hissy fit." It's emotionally gratifying and, conveniently, usually shifts the blame from ourselves to someone else. Most of us think all of our options lie on a continuum between these two poles: surrender or strike out at someone else; flight or fight. Most people don't care to consider another response, to step outside the usual.

Freedom allows them to leave it at that.

But, to sum up the 1st Corinthians 8 passage: God does care when you use your freedom carelessly, especially as it affects those who may not be as strong of will or certainty as we are. And how are we to know who is "strong enough" to not be impacted by our choices, actions, statements?

Therein lies the challenge. Paul offers a solution to the believers in Corinth. You might not like it, though.

You might have to change your best laid plans.

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A different version of this reflection appeared in 2012 as “Burns Day.”

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Photo: https://remadepreacher.com/spiritual-battle-plan/

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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany (January 28, 2018)
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//

Deuteronomy 18:15-20
Psalm 111
1 Corinthians 8:1-13
Mark 1:21-28

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Join us Friday morning for Lectionary Breakfast (Waco “Egg and I” Restaurant; Outside door bear the back). We start at 8:00 and wrap up around 9:00. The food is tasty and the fellowship is sweet.

We have a plan, but we’re flexible.

Blessings,
Steve

A Life Lesson While Learning to Drive (a Steve Orr Epiphany reflection)

When the light turned green, I just sat there.

It’s was less than a month to my 16th birthday. Mom had become my driving instructor (this was in the days before mandatory Driver’s Ed). Dad was supposed to be my instructor, but ...

On our first (and only) outing (taken on country roads to limit exposures to other vehicles), Dad spent most of the drive clinging to the passenger door and hissing through his teeth. While he never spoke to me about it, directly, apparently my every action frightened him. He told Mom she would have to teach me. I was not sad about that development. Who can think with a hisser in the car?

So, Mom took over. After a few more country roads, she decided I was ready for town streets. Much of it is a blur, but I clearly recall this: sitting at that green light. Don’t get the wrong idea; I was not frozen by insecurity, uncertainty, or fear. I sat at that green light because my mother told me to.

It went like this. As we approached the traffic signal, it turned red. So, of course, I brought the car to a halt. I was feeling pretty good about it all, that being my first time to stop at a traffic signal. And then, the odd thing: Mom looked over and said, "When the light turns green, don't go. Wait until I tell you."

I remember being puzzled. I had read my driver's handbook. I knew we were supposed to stop on red and go on green. In fact, not only was it expected, it was my right. When the light is green, I have the right of way. But, being the dutiful son —and having no desire to be cast off to some other relative for the balance of my training— I obeyed her ... waiting at that intersection for just about one second longer.

A car ran the red light.

It cut straight through the space we would have occupied if I had asserted my rights and driven forward!

I learned a life lesson that day. I call it "jumping the green," my phrase for those actions we take simply because we can. They are allowed, so we do them. But, as was so stunningly demonstrated to me that day late in my 15th year, such actions, though allowed, may not always be the wisest.

Something to think about as we contemplate this week’s passage from 1st Corinthians.

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A slightly different version of this reflection appeared in January 2012 as “Jumping the Green.”
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Photo: Steve Orr
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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Second Sunday after the Epiphany (January 14, 2018)
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//

1 Samuel 3:1-10, (11-20)
Psalm 139:1-6, 13-18
1 Corinthians 6:12-20
John 1:43-51
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Lectionary Breakfast is our time to explore, in light of the teachings of scripture, those kinds of allowed-but-not-always-wise choices life regularly tosses our way. Join us Friday morning at the Waco “Egg and I” restaurant at 8:00. It’s an interesting hour of Bible, discussion, prayer, food, and laughter.

Blessings,
Steve

Following the Star to ... Nazareth?! (a Steve Orr Epiphany reflection)

The Wise Men never made it to Bethlehem.

Wait. What?!

In the Sony animated Christmas film, The Star (which was delightful), some talking animals, following several adventures, eventually join the three Wise Men to greet the newborn Jesus lying in a feed trough (manger) in a Bethlehem stable.

But, talking animals aside, is that what really happened?

Most retellings of the Nativity story follow the same basic plot line as the Sony version: three Wise Men (sometimes called Magi or Kings) travel “from the East” (that is, east of Israel), following a star that, they say, heralds the birth of “the King of the Jews (Messiah).” They head first to Jerusalem, but find only the current king, Herod.

Everyone's interested to know who and where this new King is, especially Herod. So he gathers Israel’s scholars, and they all agree Bethlehem is where the Messiah will be born. The Wise Men then leave Jerusalem and follow “the star” to that stable in Bethlehem where they find Jesus still in the feed trough and bestow their respective gifts.

But, some scholars disagree.

They point out that scripture clearly states (see this week’s Matthew selection) the Wise Men only enter the story “after Jesus was born.” Further, when they finally meet Jesus, it is in a house ... no mangers or animals (talking or otherwise) are present.

There are those who argue that, according to Jewish Law, Jesus was presented at the Temple about 40 days after His birth. This was required for all firstborn sons. They point to the second half of Luke chapter 2 which supports their view and also contains this: “When they had finished everything required by the law of the Lord, they returned to Galilee, to their own town of Nazareth.” (Luke 2:39)

So. Could the Wise Men have followed the star to Nazareth instead of Bethlehem? Maybe. There is no real way for us to know. Scripture only tells us they followed the star to a house where “On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage.” (Matthew 2:11)

Wait. What happened to the stable?

I don't suppose we'll ever know. All we really know is that at some point after Jesus was born —days? weeks?— wise men came on pilgrimage from the east based on what they saw in the heavens and they worshiped Jesus.

In other words: some people learned about Jesus and felt they should seek Him out. Leaving behind all that was familiar to them, they began a spiritual journey, following God’s lead. When they found Jesus, they worshiped Him.

Sounds like something anyone could do ... anywhere.

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A very different version of this reflection appeared in January 2013 as “A Little Epiphany of my Own.”
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Image credit: http://www.freebibleimages.org/photos/wise-men/
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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Epiphany of the Lord (January 6, 2018)

Isaiah 60:1-6
Psalm 72:1-7, 10-14
Ephesians 3:1-12
Matthew 2:1-12


Link to table of readings for the season of Epiphany: https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//lections.php?year=B&season=Epiphany

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The 12 days of Christmas end on January 5th. Lectionary Breakfast meets that morning at the Waco “Egg and I” Restaurant for about an hour. We start at 8:00 and enjoy an hour of prayer, food, discussion, fellowship, and laughter.

No drumming drummers expected ... well, not 12 of them, anyway.

Blessings,
Steve

So ... Now What? (a Steve Orr Lectionary reflection)

I imagine that was the question that came to mind the next morning.

The baby was born ... and had spent a portion of its young life in the animals’ food trough. The shepherds had come ... and gone. The Sun was up ... and “The Star” was no longer visible.

So ... now what?

I imagine Joseph and Mary were hoping for a little calm normalcy, some regular parent/child time without all the visitors and drama of the night before. But was that to be?

Questions have surrounded the events of that very first Christmas ... and have continued even up to today. It seems everyone has questions this time of year. There's the ever popular "Mary Did You Know?" —the Lowry/Greene Christmas staple that's been around, in one form or another, for decades— I have especially enjoyed the recent Pentatonix a cappella version (https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=ifCWN5pJGIE).

And then there's 25 Questions for Mary from Max Lucado's book, God Came Near. My favorite of those is "Did you ever think, ‘That’s God eating my soup’?" With all these questions floating about, I can't help but have one of my own for Mary and Joseph: "What was that first sabbath like?"

Being observant Jews, it’s likely the “next thing” for Joseph and Mary was taking their first-born to the Temple in Jerusalem. The Law required the first-born be dedicated to God. And that’s where this week's Lectionary selection from Luke 2 takes us.

But, as you can see, there was nothing “normal” about their baby’s first visit to the Temple. In fact, if you keep reading, you learn they just didn’t have much normal in their lives for those first few years!

So ... what about us? Christmas is over, right?

Or is it?

I think, somewhat like Joseph and Mary, even though the shepherds are gone and the baby is no longer in the manger, Christmas —the real Christmas— is really only just beginning ... and, in fact, has never really ceased. The miracle of that night was just the start of something beyond belief, something we can only partially understand.

It is entirely appropriate for us to still be asking: so ... now what?

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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
First Sunday after Christmas Day (December 31, 2017)

Isaiah 61:10-62:3
Psalm 148
Galatians 4:4-7
Luke 2:22-40

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Join us for Lectionary Breakfast Friday morning as we begin to look ahead and try to answer: what’s next? We gather at 8:00 at the Waco “Egg and I” Restaurant. We’re still meeting in their function room (down the outside, at the back).

Blessings,
Steve

Revisiting The Wild Bunch (a Steve Orr Advent reflection)

“...just some bad people we know killing some bad people we don't know."

That’s what Roger Ebert said when he reviewed the movie, The Wild Bunch, back in the summer of 1969. He called it "the most violent movie ever made," a movie in which "there are no heroes.”

Here is a group of men who are hard; who spend a lot of their time out in the badlands, sleeping rough, living rough. They look rough. They smell rough. Not the kind of folk most of us would choose to spend any time with ... At all ... For any reason. We immediately mistrust them. There is something about the look of them that makes us want to turn and go the other way. Not someone you would wish to have join the family. And if they were already in the family? Well, we would want to send them as far away as we could possibly arrange.

A lot like the shepherds keeping watch over their flocks by night ... on that night.

Wait. What?!

Oh, yes. Scholars tell us that at the time of Jesus' birth, shepherding had fallen from the lofty days when David watched over his father’s flocks while writing psalms and fighting off varmints with his sling and a few smooth stones. It had become a despised trade, comprised of despised people. They were considered thieves; in fact, people were strongly discouraged from purchasing milk or wool from shepherds because it was widely assumed they had come by those goods dishonestly. Loving fathers refused to teach their sons the trade.

Wow. That really changes how we see the events of that night of nights.

Picture it with me. These low men were out in the fields with the sheep. Some were sleeping. Sheep don’t smell any better at night than in the day; and they don’t smell any better when asleep. But these men had grown nose-blind to the smell. In fact, the men smelled exactly the same as the sheep. Those who were keeping watch were alert to the sounds of the night; more concerned for their own lives than for the lives of the sheep.

Suddenly: an angel just appeared out of nowhere! Right there in the middle of them! Glory and light shone all about. Their first thought? Run! But the angel, who knew they were afraid (and probably should have been) calmed them down. He gave them the message about the Messiah being born in the nearby town and described how they would recognize him. And if that was not enough, suddenly, there were even more angels surrounding them; an army of them, shouting in unison “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and peace on earth to people who please Him!”

Then, just as suddenly as they appeared: they were just not there. After all that, what would you do? The shepherds did just what I think any of us would do (after we got over the shock); they went to investigate.

Now picture this scene: surrounded by livestock, having wrapped their newborn son in cloths and placed him in the feed trough because, well, there was just no where else, Mary and Joseph hear a noise. At first, it is unidentifiable; but soon, they recognize it as the many voices of excited people; and the sound is coming closer. In short order, the little space is crammed full of ... a wild bunch; shepherds; not exactly the kind of people parents would want near their newborn. And the smell, already bad, only gets worse. There is a lot of pushing and shoving; finally, talking over each other, each one trying to tell it, they manage to tell the tale.

Then, like many others have over the ensuing millennia, this wild bunch took to the streets to tell what they had seen and heard that night. And —maybe for the first time in a very long time— people actually stopped to listen to these hard, low men.

And the people marveled at what they heard.

The first week of Advent was about orientation (looking back and owning our true history, while looking forward in hope of salvation). Week two of Advent was about pausing (practicing patience while we wait upon the Lord). Last week, the Advent scriptures were about declaration (proclaiming, to all who will hear, the imminent arrival of the Messiah, the Christ, the “light”). Finally, this week, Advent is about transformation. We see God transform His Son into a human baby, transform a group of animals into witnesses, and transform a wild bunch —some rough, low men— into heralds of the Messiah’s arrival.

And the transformations are only beginning ...

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A very different version of this reflection appeared in December 2010
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Nativity of The Lord - Proper 1 (December 24, 2017)
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//texts.php?id=52

Isaiah 9:2-7
Psalm 96
Titus 2:11-14
Luke 2:1-14, (15-20)
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Will you be in Waco this Friday morning? If so, join us for Lectionary Breakfast at the “Egg and I” restaurant at 8:00. We’ll be Advent-ing: orienting toward our hope in Jesus, pausing to hear from the Lord, declaring His presence, and seeking transformation. And we’ll be laughing, praying, reading, discussing, and eating while we do it.

What a great way to enjoy Advent.

Blessings,
Steve

For Sale: Baby Shoes (a Steve Orr Advent reflection)

Hemingway wrote a short story on a napkin to settle a bar bet ... supposedly.

Maybe that’s true, and maybe it’s not. The story goes like this: the bet was that Hemingway, known for his brevity in writing, could not write a compelling story in just six words. After a brief reflection, the author penned: “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.”

Poignant; heartbreaking even.

While not identical, the thoughts and images that flood our minds when we read Hemingway’s mini novel are almost certainly similar. We know about baby shoes. We understand what he means by “for sale.” And we can easily surmise the events that could lead to “never worn” ... all because we have a shared understanding of what those things might be.

I first came across Hemingway’s six-word novel in a wonderful little book titled, “Not Quite What I Was Planning." The folks at Smith Magazine collected six-word memoirs from people across the globe.

These short summaries include the humorous, like "Catholic girl. Jersey. It's all true,” comedian Tracey Morgan's self-description ("At the end of normal street"), and Janelle Brown's confession ("My second grade teacher was right"). There are commentaries on life ("It's like forever, only much shorter") and on its absurdities ("Time to start over again, again"). There is bathos ("We were our own Springer episode") and also pathos ("I still make coffee for two").

In reading this week's Lectionary passages, I found that some of those can be distilled into excellent six-word memoirs. For example: "Sowed in tears, reaped with joy" (Psalms) or "Gave a garland instead of ashes" (Isaiah). There’s "Filled the hungry with good things" (Luke) and "Gives thanks in all circumstances; still" (Thessalonians). Plus "My spirit rejoices; God my savior" (Luke) and "Came to testify to the light" (John).

The first week of Advent was about orientation (looking back and owning our true history, while looking forward in hope of salvation). Week two of Advent was about pausing (practicing patience while we wait upon the Lord). This third week of Advent is about declaration (proclaiming, to all who will hear, the imminent arrival of the Messiah, the Christ, the “light”).

We can proclaim the immediacy of a savior who has come and is coming again because we know that deep inside of all humankind is the same expectation. It is our shared understanding ... just waiting to hear that good news.


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A very different version of this reflection appeared in 2011 as “Not Quite What I Was Planning.”
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Photo Credit: https://www.etsy.com/listing/110452322/vintage-style-handmade-wool-blend-felt?utm_source=Pinterest&utm_medium=PageTools&utm_campaign=Share

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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Third Sunday of Advent (December 17, 2017)

Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11
Psalm 126 or Luke 1:46b-55
1 Thessalonians 5:16-24
John 1:6-8, 19-28
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Friday mornings are a special time for us. We gather at the Waco “Egg and I” restaurant for Lectionary Breakfast, a time of prayer and scripture, and, yes: orientation, pause, and declaration. Meet with us at 8:00 for all of that plus some good food and laughter.

Blessings,
Steve

Revisiting An Unfinished Christmas (a Steve Orr Advent reflection)

It was a Christmas we would never forget.

I was no older than the first grade. I remember my mother taking us downtown so we could watch the Christmas parade that Saturday morning. I have the clearest mental picture of getting out of the car and looking up to see my Dad happily waving to us from the third story window of his office (he was a Chiropractor in those days) near the corner of 7th and Broadway.

We felt so special to be able to watch everything from so far above everyone else. I remember the passing of Santa’s sleigh at some point, and the man himself pointing up at us, and waving, as we leaned as far out that window as the adults would allow.

The most enduring memory of that season came a few nights later. We went for our annual Christmas shopping night in downtown Paducah. My parents dressed us carefully (both for appearance and the weather), and put on their good clothes, as well. My Dad wore a suit and tie; my Mother wore a dress.

Paducah Dry Goods store was like the department store in “A Christmas Story.“ It was located at the corner of 4th and Broadway, undoubtedly the coldest corner in Paducah. Because of the way Paducah was positioned against the confluence of the Ohio and Tennessee Rivers, both 4th Street and Broadway funneled cold air up from the rivers to chill us as we disembarked from the car. Dad dropped the three of us off at the store, parked the car a few blocks away, and then rejoined us inside.

My parents forced us to endure shopping on each floor in turn; making our way with agonizing slowness toward all that really mattered: the fourth floor, location of toys and home of Santa’s red velvet throne.

The highlight of this Christmastime memory is sitting on Santa’s lap and telling him something —though I can't recall what— and realizing that his beard was real. That beard convinced me he was the real thing (and I had always been a bit skeptical, even at that tender age).

Eventually, after what seemed like ages, but was probably no longer than an hour —after all, we were small children— my parents bundled us up and moved us down four floors and to the front of the store. Things get a little hazy after that. I have a vibrant memory of my Mother holding my hand as the three of us stood on the curb waiting for my Dad to return with the car, to pick us up and drive us home. I remember waiting to the point that I was actually cold.

My Dad never returned that night.

And, in my memory, that is the end; the three of us standing there, getting colder ... watching, waiting, wondering

... an unfinished Christmas.
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Of course, there's more to this memoir. But what if there wasn't? What if that was all we would ever know? How strange to know there must be more, but be unable to know how things turned out.

It was my daughter who first suggested that this memoir, with all the waiting and watching, would make a great Advent reflection ... and I agree. Last week’s reflection fit perfectly with orientation, the first “stage” of Advent (looking back at our true histories and forward to God’s promises). While this one aligns well with this week’s 2nd Peter selection and its emphasis on waiting, patience, and the timeless aspect of a relationship with God.

We’ve been waiting on God all these centuries, ever since Jesus came to us in human form ... while at the same “time” (so to speak), God has been waiting on us. Yes, that’s right. Peter reminds us that while we’ve been patiently waiting on God to return, God has been patiently waiting until more of us are ready for that return.

It’s the story of a Christmas that had its beginning over 2,000 years ago and has remained open all this time ... waiting on us.

An unfinished Christmas, indeed.

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For the rest of the story, the fuller version of my Christmas memoir can be read at http://steveorr.blogspot.com/search/label/1Memoir-An%20Unfinished%20Christmas

(If you are on my blog, see the list on the right side of the screen (web version). Click on: 1Spiritual Reflection - An Unfinished Christmas)
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Photo credit: Fir0002/Flagstaffotos

For more about this Comet, discovered by Robert McNaught: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?search=Comet+P1+McNaught&title=Special:Search&profile=default&fulltext=1&searchToken=81xyewdewi43g6agewxbbwr2o
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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Second Sunday of Advent (December 10, 2017)
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//lections.php?year=B&season=Advent

Isaiah 40:1-11
Psalm 85:1-2, 8-13
2 Peter 3:8-15a
Mark 1:1-8

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The Advent season continues, and we continue to observe it at Lectionary Breakfast. Join us Friday morning at 8:00 for a hour of sharing, scripture reading, laughing, praying, discussing, and, of course, eating. We’re still meeting in the Function Room of the Waco “Egg and I” Restaurant (entrance around the side at the back of the building). We hope to see you there.

Blessings,
Steve