Announcing..

This morning, Cliff and I traveled to my OB's office for our 18/19 week ultrasound.  We were both nervous and excited to see our baby (as the last time the baby had looked more like a peanut than a person).  For the first several minutes we saw kidneys and fingers and saw botttoms of feet.  And then I said to the Tech, "Most of our friends think we're having a girl."

And he said......

"Well, they'd be wrong.  Because that is a boy."



And both Cliff and I said "REALLY?!"

So there you have it...we're having a boy.  A BOY! WOW!

A picture that made me laugh

Thank goodness that we're only having one!

An Email I Got and Wanted to Share

Letter from Jesus about Christmas --

Dear Children,

It has come to my attention that many of you are upset that folks are taking My name out of the season. Maybe you've forgotten that I wasn't actually born during this time of the year and that it was some of your predecessors who decided to celebrate My birthday on what was actually a time of pagan festival. . . although I do appreciate being remembered anytime.

How I personally feel about this celebration can probably be most easily understood by those of you who have been blessed with children of your own. I don't care what you call the day. If you want to celebrate My birth, just GET ALONG AND LOVE ONE ANOTHER.

Now, having said that let Me go on. If it bothers you that the town in which you live doesn't allow a scene depicting My birth, then just get rid of a couple of Santas and snowmen and put in a small Nativity scene on your own front lawn. If all My followers did that there wouldn't be any need for such a scene on the town square because there would be many of them all around town.

Stop worrying about the fact that people are calling the tree a holiday tree, instead of a Christmas tree. It was I who made all trees. You can remember Me anytime you see any tree. Decorate a grape vine if you wish: I actually spoke of that one in a teaching, explaining who I am in relation to you and what each of our tasks were. If you have forgotten that one, look up John 15: 1 - 8.

If you want to give Me a present in remembrance of My birth here is my wish list. Choose something from it:

1. Instead of writing protest letters objecting to the way My birthday is being celebrated, write letters of love and hope to soldiers away from home. They are terribly afraid and lonely this time of year. I know, they tell Me all the time.

2. Visit someone in a nursing home. Not just during Christmas time, but all through the year. You don't have to know them personally. They just need to know that someone cares about them.

3. Instead of writing the president complaining about the wording on the cards his staff sends out this year, why don't you write and tell him that you'll be praying for him and his family? Then follow up. It will be nice hearing from you again.

4. Instead of giving your children a lot of gifts you can't afford and they don't need, spend time with them. Tell them the story of My birth, and why I came to live with you down here. Hold them in your arms and remind them that I love them.

5. Pick someone that has hurt you in the past and forgive him or her.

6. Did you know that someone in your town will attempt to take their own life this season because they feel so alone and hopeless?  Since you don't know who that person is, try giving everyone you meet a warm smile; it could make the difference.

7. Instead of nit picking about what the retailer in your town calls the holiday, be patient with the people who work there. Give them a warm smile and a kind word. Even if they aren't allowed to wish you a "Merry Christmas" that doesn't keep you from wishing them one. Then stop shopping there on Sunday. If the store didn't make so much money on that day they'd close and let their employees spend the day at home with their families

8. If you really want to make a difference, support a missionary-- especially one who takes My love and Good News to those who have never heard My name.

9. Here's a good one. There are individuals and whole families in your town who not only will have no "Christmas" tree, but neither will they have any presents to give or receive. If you don't know them, buy some food and a few gifts and give them to the Salvation Army or some other charity which believes in Me and they will make the delivery for you.

10. Finally, if you want to make a statement about your belief in and loyalty to Me, then behave like a Christian. Don't do things in secret that you wouldn't do in My presence. Let people know by your actions and words that you are one of mine.

Don't forget; I am God and can take care of Myself. Just love Me and do what I have told you to do. I'll take care of all the rest. Check out the list above and get to work; time is short I'll help you, but the ball is now in your court. And do have a most blessed Christmas with all those whom you love and remember :

I LOVE YOU,
JESUS

New Picture

16 weeks and 3 days.

I guess there really IS a baby in there!

I live at the Doctor's Office...a.k.a I'm pregnant

Growing up, I (Elizabeth) was a moderately healthy child.  When I was sick, it was usually bad (ex: having pneumonia) but even then, not that long-lasting.  Here's an example for you - When my sister had mono, she was under the weather for around 6 weeks.  When I had mono, I was only sick enough to miss school for four days.  I eeked out that last day of the week and then regretted it later when I couldn't exempt any final exams my freshman year.

All this to say, I've never really spent that much time at the doctor's office or even thinking about my health.  That is...until I became pregnant.  Now I'm at my OB's office at least once a month, and in the coming weeks, will see him once every two weeks.  I'm more aware of my body than I HAVE EVER been, mentally cataloging all symptoms, pains and questions to bombard my doctor with.  And to top it all off, my immune system is depressed because, well, it's got other things to worry about (i.e. the new human I'm growing) than my silly body.  So right now I'm taking antibiotics for Pharyngitis (a bacterial infection of the Pharynx - thanks Kristin for explaining that to me) and considering getting a Seasonal Flu shot even though I haven't had the flu since 1998.

Ah well...soon my OB visits will end and pediatrician visits will pick up, and as my mother and grandmother say, "I wont have time to get sick."  How funny that creating new life would be so...medically involved!

Oh, and before I forget.  Had my 15 week appointment on Nov. 6th and got to hear the baby's heartbeat again.  Apparently baby-kins is already a performer and did a flip while we were listening.  I'm scheduled to go back to the OB on the 20th to do my Quad-Screening and then will have a sonogram done on December 1st when we will find out the gender of our baby!  Have a guess to what we'll be having?  Make sure to vote in the poll on our blog.

No new pictures yet, but in case you were wondering....the G-R baby is now the size of an:
AVOCADO!

A Husband's Perspective

So Elizabeth has been pregnant for like 3 months now and so far...NO FUN CRAVINGS!!! She hasn't wanted anything fun; no pickles and peanut butter, no bananas and hot sauce (at least she eats bananas now), not even marshmallows and bar-b-que sauce. I (cliff) want something fun. I want a legendary craving that will launch a legend that will last for ages. 

I want her to have a craving for something like this

http://www.thedailybeast.com/blogs-and-stories/2009-10-27/food-that-can-kill-you-instantly/?cid=hp:beastoriginalsR6#gallery=900;page=4

It would be awesome!!!

What we did in October

So, imagine my (Elizabeth) surprise when I learned that my dearest husband Cliff had never been to the TEXAS STATE FAIR.  He's a natural born citizen of Texas and I'm not, and I'VE been many times.  Scandal.  So this year, we decided to take a trek up to the DFW and go visit Big Tex at Fair Park with my parents.

Big Tex says hello.  He's not shy!

I know that there are games and concerts and all sorts of attractions to see at the Texas State Fair, but we really wanted to go because of the FOOD.  The FRIED FOOD.  (This is the part where my sister-in-law Tiffany shudders.  She has a masters in nutrition.)  We were psyched.  We figured that since we'd be walking all day and sharing food between the four of us, that it couldn't be that bad.  As my mother said "We're practically virtuous." Truth.

So weren't we thrilled when we discovered that the Texas State Fair had CHALLENGED US TO A DUEL! They must not have ever met my husband, because he is ALWAYS up for a duel.  The terms were this:

Eat this list of food (pictured below)

1. Fernie's Deep Fried Peaches & Cream

2. Deep Fried Butter

3. Country Fried Pork Chips

4. Fried Peanut Butter Macaroon

5. Green Goblin (?)

6. Sweet Jalapeño Corn Dog Shrimp

7. Texas Fried Pecan Pie

8. Twisted Yam on a Stick

We also added: 9. Chicken Fried Bacon

The challenging part?  Don't Barf.  What do you win?  EVERLASTING GLORY.  I assume anyway.

Of COURSE we were up for the challenge!

I don't exactly remember what order we did this in, but you get the picture.  Below you'll see the DEEP FRIED BUTTER.  You may be thinking "gag, Elizabeth.  I saw that Simpsons episode where homer started his own religion so he could stay home on Sundays and eat a stick of butter wrapped in a waffle, and it wasn't pretty."  True, but this was not so...animated.  Taste-wise it was like the Best, Buttery Biscuit you have EVER had in your WHOLE life.  It was delicious, bar-none, our favorite dish of the whole day.

Fried Butter = Delicious.  Don't even argue with me because I'm sure God eats these in heaven.  

Below is the Deep fried Pecan Pie.  It tasted exactly as it should and sharing one between the four of us was a wise choice because it was very sweet.  My note in the program was "yum!"

Why yes, I will have some pie!

I know this didn't come next, but I have to write about it.  This was the "Green Goblin" and it was a pepper, stuffed with shredded chicken and guacamole, battered, deep-fried and then covered in Nacho Cheese.  I was 11 weeks pregnant at this point, so this one wasn't easy for me.  The description turned ME green. But, it wasn't half-bad.  Cliff and my mother really enjoyed but I think my dad and I were just kinda weirded out that somebody fried guacamole.  Way to ruin a healthy fat!

There's probably a horror movie named after me!

Our next challenge-food reminded me of Thanksgiving.  It was a yam, cut into twistys (technical, I know) then deep friend and covered with cinnamon-sugar.  I'm not a Yam person, but this was actually pretty delicious.  It ended up tasting like Yam-chips.

I was healthy...and then I came to the fair.

Next up is the Sweet Jalapeño Corn Dog Shrimp.  This was an odd one.  The Shrimp were covered in some sort of Jalapeño jelly and then battered in corn-dog breading and fried.  It tasted...okay?

If there was a kick-ball team of fried foods, this one would be picked second-to-last.  Poor shrimps.

Below you will see the Big Tex Choice for Best Tasting Award Winner, Deep Fried Peaches and Cream.  This was really good.  The peaches were perfectly ripe, the batter wasn't too thick and the cream added a perfect little side of creamy.  I still liked the deep fried butter better, but this was still great.

I'm fruit! I swear I was nutritious once!

Below are my least favorite of the evening (though to be fair, Cliff liked them both).  I can't really tell which is which, but one is the Deep Fried Pork Chips and the other is the Chicken Fried Bacon.  I could only do a bite of each of these and then I turned green and got queasy.  Cliff loved the Chicken Fried Bacon.  We all thought the Deep Fried Pork Chips were overrated.

Fried Pig, Version 1

Fried Pig, Version 2.  

You are probably thinking, WAIT!  WHAT ABOUT THE FRIED PEANUT BUTTER CUP MACAROONS?!  Sad to say, we didn't get to this one.  We tried!  But when we got in line for this delicious item, they were OUT.  OUT!!!  I still think we deserve a win on this challenge because it wasn't OUR fault that we couldn't eat the macaroons.  It was the Fair's fault.  

What say you?  Were we victorious?  Or were we defeated soundly?

A picture for you

12 weeks and 5 days (10/21/09)

Just so you know...there probably wont be another picture until 16 weeks.

Thoughtful Tuesday

It's "Thoughtful Tuesday"...but don't expect anything deep.
By the way, I put a poll on the side of the page so you can vote for what you think the sex of the G-R baby will be.  Have fun!

---

Good Things About Being Pregnant:

1) Getting to tell people.  I like having good news and I love having people excited for me.

2) People tell me to eat more.  I don't need the encouragement for that, but I love not having to feel shame about getting seconds of thirds....(as long as there isn't dairy)

3) I'm expected to gain weight.  Check.

4) I have a monthly budget for buying clothes.  Oooh.

5) The baby is very portable.  No strollers, car seats or baby bags yet cause I'm the one carting her/him around!

Bad Things About Being Pregnant:

1) No energy.  Must...find...strength...to...bathe.

2) I'm hungry, but normal food makes me want to wretch.  It's really tough on Cliff that I'm not sure I'll be able to eat the dinner he has cooked until I can smell it.  I eat a LOT of cereal.

3) I'm allergic to dairy.  How is this even REMOTELY fair?

4) I've become a germ-fearing hypochondriac.  Swine flu? BACK AWAY RIGHT NOW.  Is my heart beating irregularly? HOSPITAL RIGHT NOW!  I have a cramp.  OH NO A CRAMP!

5) My pants don't fit.  I know that this is supposed to happen, but it's still and Ego-Punch when your skinny jeans are relegated to the back of the closet. And your not-skinny jeans.  And your "fat-day" jeans.  The back of my closet has become my enemy.

Adventures in Pregnancy

From all the movies and tv-shows that I've (Elizabeth) watched, I developed certain expectations about pregnancy.  Those included -
1. I will crave bizarre foods that my husband will be duty bound to find for me
2. I will eat Ice Cream every day with no consequences
3. I will be deferred to by strangers because of my growing waistline.

Well, my waistline has yet to reach monstrous proportions so I haven't been deferred to yet.  And I'm not craving anything more bizarre than lots of salt, so Cliff has yet to go on a midnight run to the grocery store.  But surely, ice cream has quickly become my constant companion...right?

Wrong.

Here's why.
Firstly, I've always been slightly lactose intolerant.  I started drinking soy milk almost exclusively about 5 years ago, so now whenever I drink milk....let's just say there's rumblin in my stomach.  I've always been able to do yogurts, cheese, ice cream, etc, but just in small amounts.

This is no longer the case.

Several weeks ago, Cliff's parents came into town to help out with curtains (his mom) and laying a laminate wood floor (his dad).  Afterwards we celebrated our great achievements by getting mexican food and Lou and I indulged in lots of queso.    Several hours later I started feeling very uncomfortable - it seemed like my throat was swelling shut.  For hours I had to forcefully breathe deeply because otherwise it seemed like I wasn't getting enough air.  I thought it was odd...but didn't know why it happened.

A couple of days after that, I reheated some of the left-over queso and had it with lunch.  And then at work  I felt my throat swelling again. I realized with horror that it was the cheese  that was the culprit.  I called into my OB's office and asked if it was possible to develop a sudden allergy during pregnancy  - like to dairy.  And much to my horror, it is.

And as time has passed, I've discovered that it's not just queso that does me in.  ANY dairy product - cheese, yogurt, sour cream, ice cream, they all cause my throat to swell and so they are ALL off limits.  EVEN CHOCOLATE IS OFF LIMITS.

NOOOOOOOOO!!!!

So today, in a fit of self-pity, I bought at H-E-B
1) Soy yogurt (in strawberry and peach)
2) Faux sour-cream (made with soy and tofu)
3) Faux cream cheese (made with soy and tofu)
4) Non dairy "ice cream" (made with soy)
5) Fruit popsicles
6) Chocolate Soy Milk

I just had some of the faux sour-cream and it was pretty good actually.  I'm excited to try the cream cheese and the yogurts as they are my only hope to enjoy dairy-like substances during this pregnancy.  But really, my deepest hope is that this is only temporary and that post-preganancy I'll be cavorting gleefully back in the land of cheese and ice cream.

Till then...
Don't judge me when you see me eating soy yogurt.  I'm not a vegan.  I'm just pregnant.

Things you think about but never are really prepared for

Without preamble:

Cliff and I are pregnant.

Well...I'm pregnant and Cliff is the responsible party.

We'll know the baby's gender in mid-December and our preliminary due date is April 30th, 2010.

----

We've known since August 21st  when we took the pregnancy test.  I was four days late and I finally broke the news to Cliff.  He jaunted off to the store and bought me our tests and after a nervous 3 minute wait, we discovered the happy news.


The aforementioned pregnancy test.




Since then, we've had four appointments with my OB
1. The first made when I THOUGHT my 6 week mark was but ended up being early.  I saw the embryo but it was much too tiny to see anything else.

2. The second one Cliff came to and we saw the much larger fetus AND it's heartbeat.  And I found out that my blood type is O-.  Surprise!  Here's a picture of baby G-R.  The long lima-bean shaped portion is the baby, and the rounder bit is the yolk-sac.
 
 Hey world!


3. The third visit was not so joyous as I had been up the night before with irregular heart palpitations.  Scary.  I called the OB, they saw me that day and  I ended up getting an EKG at Hillcrest hospital and finding out that I have sinus arrhythmia of the heart.  Apparently, it is very common amongst young, healthy pregnant women. That's not very comforting!

4.  Our fourth visit Cliff also came and heard our baby's heartbeat for the first time. The heartbeat was 160BP.  What a stunning experience to actually HEAR our baby!

As of right now, we've told both sets of parents of their impending grandparent-hood and the grandparents of their soon-to-be great-grandness.  Oh, and I've also developed a sudden allergy to dairy products.  Bummer.  Now, since we're almost to 12 week mark, we felt safer letting you all know about our exciting news.

On a funny note, in the last several weeks we found out that my sister Arwen is due 1 WEEK after me (May 8th) and my Cousin Daniel's wife Sarina is due on the exact same day.  So my grandparents will go from 3 great grand-babies (all Tanya's) to 6 in ONE WEEK!

So there you go. In just a few short months, there will be a brand-new Grasham-Reeves (that isn't an animal)! We'll keep you updated.

Life as we know it

Hey-o.  It's been awhile, so I thought I would catch you all up with what's been a-going on in the lives of the Grasham-Reeves.


Clifton started a new job with Child Protective Services in April which finally freed him up to participate in local theatre again.  Hooray!  I (Elizabeth) graduated from seminary on May 15th and received the preaching award for the graduating class of May 09'.  





The very next day, I was ordained by the Southwest Region of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) after a 3 year process (and a 12 year faith journey).



Lots of the family was there!


Then, because May wasn't full enough, Cliff and I bought a house which previously was the Bakery!




The very next day (and I mean VERY), I was installed as the Associate Minister to Children, Youth and Families at Lakewood Christian Church.



We were busy this past summer with Vacation Bible School and Camps and while I was away in July, our newest nephew, Granger Clyde Reeves, was born!



The day after I got back from camp, Cliff finally got his wish of a new dog.  Her name is Rika and she is just like I expected her to be - kind of dumb but really sweet.  And of course, the cat hates every inch of her.



And to round out the summer, we utilized the $8000 housing credit from the government to get me a New-ish car.  That's right.  I traded in the 2001 Ford Escort for a 2007 Chevy Trailblazer.  The gas mileage isn't as good, but it sure is a better car.  Especially considering Cliff and I want to start a family soon.  Our friends the Lind's call it the Grasham-Reeves Baby-Mobile.



Since then, life has been slowly settling down in the G-R home.  Cliff and his father and grandfather just recently laid laminate-wood flooring in the former "man-cave" as we slowly transition the closed-in-garage to a movie room.  We've also celebrated with my sister Arwen and my cousin Sarina as they have announced they are both expecting babies (Arwen in May and Sarina in April).

Lots to look forward to.  I'll try and update more often.

Baptism Sermon

For my theological capstone class on Baptism, I was required to write a sermon. Only caveat? It had to be on baptism.

So the following text is based off of Matthew 3:13-17. Let me know what you think
---
He stood amongst the crowd that had gathered to listen to John, watching as they recoiled and reacted. John had always been good at this, the controversy, the bizarre appearance, the fiery words. John had already hit his favorite lines, calling the Pharisees and Sadducees vipers, the bit about Israel being a tree cut down, the brutal swipe at what it meant to be a child of Abraham. John was in good form today, pacing and frothing, fingers pointing and voice rising and falling in thunderous crescendos. The family had stopped wondering where John learned all this; the speeches, the clothing, the gaze that never looked at you but always through you. He should have been a priest; he was after all, from the line of Aaron and Abijah. He should have followed his father into the temple but had wandered out into the wilderness instead. And now…well now John was as He saw him. Wild John, the man who wore camel hair and ate bugs. And claimed to be preparing the world for something. For someone.

He stood amongst the crowd that had gathered to listen to John, watching hardened hearts break, watching the waters part and then swallow up person after person after person. This was the Jordan after all; Israel had crossed it once to enter into their new land. Why not cross it again and enter into new life? He smiled to think of his namesake: standing on the banks of the Jordan, looking back at the people of Israel as they grumbled and mumbled, telling them “Let’s go people. God is even going to part the waters for us. Again.” Poor Joshua. Joshua knew what it was like to remind people about who God was and what he’d done for the people of Israel. Joshua knew what it was like to call the people back from the crooked roads onto the straight path. And once again a man of God was standing on the river bank “Let’s go people. Repent. Let’s get on the straight road again. He’s Coming.”

He stood amongst the crowd that had gathered to listen to John, watching the people give each other confused glances, watching the people give each other alarmed looks. “Prepare the way of the Lord?” It was hard to believe that God was on any road, coming anywhere near Israel. He’d been silent for so long; he had given over Israel into the hands of her enemies. Why show up now? “But after me will come one who is more powerful than I.” Even stranger. Is there some group of wild men out in the deserts of Judea, all uniformed in camel hair and leather, staging a religious coup as we speak? Is John implying that he’s powerful? Compelling, maybe. Powerful? Who is this one he speaks about? Will we know him when we see him? He watched them as they turned to one another, “…whose sandals I am not fit to carry.” Is the one coming some sort of Lord that he can’ carry his own sandals? How low would you have to be to be unfit to carry sandals? Who is Coming? Who is he speaking about?

He stood among the crowd that had gathered to listen to John and remembered the stories they’d been told over and over and over again about the days of their birth. Angels and wise men following stars, shepherds and barren women and virgins and fleeing to Egypt. Dreams and temple dedications and Anna the prophetess and kind, old Simeon, portents of great things to come. And then the days after those stories. The normal, boring, regular days in temple and at home, in the shop with Joseph. The steady stream of typical days of family dinners and sibling squabbles and aching muscles as He learned Joseph’s trade. And then the days that had become strange again. When John had disappeared from the family gatherings, and old Aunt Elizabeth whispered mysteriously, “I always knew he would…I knew he would.” When He himself had begun to feel the burden of the future pressing down on him, when he himself began to think about what was to come and unexplainably, knew. The days when he walked around Nazareth and talked with his neighbors and knew that soon things would change, and that there would be a day when he was no longer welcomed here. The days when his mother Mary would walk into the shop and grab His hand and just stare at him. Stare at him like something was going to happen to him and she wanted to remember him forever as he was in that moment.

He stood among the crowd that had gathered to listen to John and breathed deeply. In much the same way the John had been driven out into the desert, He had been driven here. This wasn’t the first time that John had preached his fire and judgment at the Jordan. John had been preaching for days now and the discussion around the family was whether or not they should go. Elizabeth would have gone if she had been alive still, and Mary would have come if her life had not already been plagued by scandal. Joseph kept silent about it, as he did in most things. His brothers and sisters had laughed it off, regretting that cousin John had turned out to be one of those ‘crazy men’ who plagued Israel in these days. But He, He could not stay away. The Jordan called to him as it must have called to the tribes all those thousands of years ago. And after days of thinking about praying, today He had come. Expecting everything and nothing, knowing only that today something was going to happen. And that everything would change.

He stood among the crowd that had gathered to listen to John and began to move to the front of the group. He passed Pharisees and Sadducees, soldiers and publicans, priests and tax collectors, prostitutes and widows. He threaded his way through families with small children, and around rabbis with their groups of disciples. He moved through the crowd in silence, seeing all around him but hearing the ceaseless call to come forward, to see John. The water was calling. God was calling.

He came out from among the crowd that had gathered to listen to John and stood on the banks of the Jordan. And John, between impassioned cries for repentance and the condemning judgment of God, saw him. To the crowd, the silent stare shared between John and the stranger was brief. Strange, but brief. But for John and He, the moment stretched out like pulled glass – vivid and fragile and never to be recreated. In the time between sight and speech, John’s world collapsed in on him and then expanded again, realization and shock stealing his words, hope and fear throttling his breath. The words that he had been preaching had somehow manifested themselves, the road that God had been traveling on unexpectedly crossed the Jordan. John saw Him standing at the river bank. The man had an axe in his hands, ready to sever the root. No, he was holding a winnowing fork. No, he was blazing in the fire, the Shekinah Glory that only Moses had ever seen. And suddenly the visions were gone and the shock was even greater. Him. It was Jesus. And he was wading into the Jordan river towards him.

He waded out into the river in front of the crowd that had gathered to listen to John. And when he reached him, John’s face grew white and his voice shook. “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?" The crowd could no longer hear what was being said, and so they strained in closer, crowding the banks of the river, hoisting children upon their shoulders. They knew the scene had changed, the play had a new character, and they wanted to see. “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?" John, face to face with that which he had been so long preparing, was no longer wild. Jesus knew this John, the contemplative, devoted, God-fearing John. The John who wrestled with the pronouncements and laments of the prophets, who wept when he broke the laws, the John who prayed without ceasing. He reached out and grabbed John’s shoulder and spoke with authority that younger cousins never have. “Let it be so now; it is proper for us to do this to fulfill all righteousness.”

He stood in the river in front of the crowd that had gathered to listen to John and waited. “Let it be so” John whispered. He knew righteousness. The difficult and beautiful road that one traveled in obedience to God. The suffocating and liberating life that fulfilled all the laws. He also knew that righteousness was absent from this world, or at best, fragmented, perverted, cast aside. John craved righteousness, craved for the return to God, craved shalom that only comes when Israel was once again in full covenant with God. “Let it be so” Jesus whispered back. His road had been leading here for so long. He had seen this river many times, stood on it’s banks for hours, recounting the stories of Joshua and Israel. He had bathed in it, played in it, crossed it countless times. But now, the Jordan was no longer the river of his childhood – the Jordan was the road that stretched out before him. The Jordan was the beginning. “Let it be so…” they whispered together. And John baptized him.

Jesus rose up out of the water in front of the crowd that had gathered to listen to John and the heavens tore themselves apart. Jesus looked up at the sound and saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and it lighted upon him. It was like new wind, the breath of a newborn child, the rushing winds of the high mountain ranges and the whispered wind currents of the low valleys. It was like fire and ice, like the deepest darkness and the brightest of flames. It was like meeting your father for the first time and then realizing you always knew him. He was frozen like a pillar of marble, eyes gazing up into the heavens, shrouded in the spirit. The crowd was panicked, standing frozen with Him, fleeing from the river banks, shouting and arguing with one another. People who desire signs never really want them. John was still touching Jesus, his hand cradling Jesus’ neck, afraid to let go of that for which he had always hoped. The tearing of the skies was almost secondary to holding on to the promised One.

And a voice from heaven said, "This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased." John’s hand dropped from Jesus and he shook, trembled in fear and joy. The crowd fell to their knees, awed by the voice that they had so long craved to hear. And Jesus wept silent tears. Tears of joy for the final confirmation, the proud announcement, the knowledge that there were no more secrets. Tears of fear for the days to come, the misunderstandings, the challenges, the tribulations and persecutions. Tears of despair for where the road ahead would take him. For the fact that Sonship was costly. Silent tears that no one saw because their gaze was either to the heavens or to the earth. “This is my Son, whom I love.” It was one thing to hear Mary say it. And another to hear Joseph, silent, righteous, Joseph say it. This, this was full and deep, terrifying and completing. “With him I am well pleased.”

Jesus stood in the river in front of the remaining crowd that had gathered to listen to John, dripping wet and full of memory. He was the earth the moment that the seas had been made. He was Noah in the ark, saved from the deluge by God’s provision. He was Israel escaping Egypt through the waters of the Red sea, following fearfully behind Moses. He was Joshua standing at the Jordan. He was Elijah when the rains finally fell again. He was Namaan, healed and rising out of the water of the “mere” Jordan river. He was the wet fleece of Gideon’s, the sign of God’s promises. He was Israel, washed clean, over and over and over throughout time. He was mankind, purified, sanctified, set apart. The waters dripped from his nose and fingertips, his soggy clothing draping wetly across his body. And John wept silent tears. Tears of joy for the faithfulness of God and his promises. Tears of fear for the days ahead not only for himself but for his cousin, his Jesus, the promised ones. Tears of despair that he was not the long awaited one and would ever point to another. For the fact that Sonship is costly. Silent tears that no one saw because their gaze was either on Jesus or on the horizon as they fled the scene.

Jesus stood in the river in front of the few remaining who had gathered to listen to John, and turned towards his cousin. This would be the last time they saw one another, though neither could know that. John, Wild John in his camel hair and leather, Jesus, the Promised Jesus, in his soaking tunic. They stood in the river with each other, in silence and all the heavens and earth looked on. The time was finally come. The long years of waiting, the long silence of God, the fear that nothing would ever change…all done. Through the triumphs and tragedies, through failed kings and false priests, through exiles and judgment, through homecoming and rebuilding, through revolution and subjugation, God had been working, plotting, maneuvering, planning. Through the cries for mercy and mocking denials, through false messiah’s and puppet rulers, through despair and hope, God had been moving. And here, in the middle of the river that ran through Israel’s memory and heart, here two men, two cousins clasped each other.

It had begun. And all the world would be changed.

Ordination

Hey All,

Today (April 29th) at 1:30pm, I go before the Regional Committee on Ministry for my final ordination council. It's close to 2 hours long from start to finish and I will be sitting before over 30 committee members which includes the regional minister, area ministers and others. I have been heading towards this day for many years and though I am confidant that my call is to serve in the Disciples of Christ in pastoral ministry, I am still apprehensive about my meeting tomorrow. Though the council desires my success, they will also be pushing me hard on any number of important topics.

If you could, pray that:
- I have safe travel to and from the meeting
- I am clear in all of my answers and that I am able to recall pertinent information when needed
- I am calm in my spirit and that I have peace no matter the outcome
- God and ministry in His Kingdom is glorified by the meeting
- The Holy Spirit guides all minds and hearts throughout the process

Most likely the meeting will begin at 1:30, the questioning will go on till 3:00, the council's deliberations will last anywhere from 3:15 to 3:30, and the outcome of the meeting will be made known to me at about 3:30pm.

The prayers of the saints are powerful, so I am thankful to know that you will be among the cloud of witnesses that surrounds me during this final step towards ordination.

Maunday Thursday Sermon

It's been awhile, but that's life I guess.

This sermon is a bit of a departure for me stylistically. Let me know what you think!
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The world being as it is, it’s not hard to imagine dark times. We’re all traveling through our own shrouded worlds tonight – some of us who’ve lost jobs. Some of us have lost our houses. Some of us have lost our spouses, or our parents, or our children. Some of us are just overwhelmed by complications that we never knew would be a part of this life. Everywhere we turn we see bad news, collapsing companies, missile testing, earthquakes, famine, war. And everywhere we see talking heads spelling out our doom but giving us no hope, no answers, only more questions. Our future is uncertain, our categories are jumbled, our leaders seemingly powerless. It is a dark night indeed.

When Jesus gathered his disciples together for what he knew would be their last Passover, it was a dark night. Though they shared cup and loaf, jokes and familiar stories, prayers and songs, I imagine that Jesus looked deep into the shadows of that room and saw what had already come to pass and that the dark night that was stretching out before him.

When Jesus was hanging from that bloody tree and his disciples had scattered to the four winds, when the only cup that was offered him was vinegar, when the only laughs shared were mocking daggers piercing his already tender flesh, I imagine that he looked deep into the shadows of the men’s souls who surrounded him and saw again the dark night that he knew not the end of.

It is said that when people are on the edge of death that their lives flash before their eyes, that their mind replays for them the seemingly significant and insignificant events that have made up their lives, a sensory overload before all senses cease. It is not hard for me to believe that while on the cross, Jesus’ life flashed before his eyes – the crowds begging for food, the demon possessed, the sleepless nights, the shared meals, the fights in temples, the tender moments when children came forward to him in love.

It is not hard for us to flash backward through the stories of the life of Jesus, remembering his joys and sorrows, his beginnings at this terrible end. So throw back your minds and imagination with me to one of those first stories and how it shaped our Jesus. Come with me to the desert.

He had just been baptized by his cousin John, and a voice from heaven had proclaimed his identity to the whole world “This is my son, the beloved. In him I am well pleased!” In his joy and fear he had done what God commanded and then, inexplicably was driven into the desert. He only knew that his Father desired him to be there and so he wandered. Day and night through parched lands, no food, little water and silent suffering. Interminable silence only broken by the gusts of harsh winds and the scuttling of unclean creatures. 40 days in silence, in hunger, he waited.

And then a stranger appeared. With smooth words and scriptures the stranger tempted him. “If you are the Son of God, change stones into bread.” Be a Messiah of Bread. “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself off of the temple mount.” Be a Messiah of Signs and Wonders. “If you are a Son of God, bow to me and receive the kingdoms of the world.” Be a Messiah of Military Power and Conquest. Each time he denied the stranger and his temptations. Each time he denied the temptation to be another kind of Messiah. And so the stranger left him. Temporarily.

Perhaps this is the image, the scene that our dying Lord saw before his eyes as he hung, beaten and dejected upon that tortuous cross. Certainly the scene before him seemed very similar.

When we imagine this story, we tend to see our Lord on a cross on a hill somewhere, with murderous crowds circling beneath him like beetles. But truly, to the world, his death was no more spectacularly different than the death of thousands of criminals before him. The bored and indifferent, and perversely obsessed with death swirled around and past his torture, stopping to gape and gab and read the crimes for which he was punished.

This was another desert for Jesus. He was called onto the cross after the joy of entering Jerusalem. He thirsted for water but there was none, he longed for release but time dragged and dragged and dragged. And the only sounds that he heard were the murmurings of the soldiers as they diced for his clothing and the shrieks of pain from those who suffered and died next to him. And then after time immeasurable, the stranger appeared again.

But this time, the stranger was not alone. The stranger stood amongst the crowd that had just days before cheered Jesus’ entrance, who now stood at his feet and mocked him. He commiserated with the priests, teachers, lawyers and elders who saw him condemned, goading them in their jibes towards Jesus. He perched like a vulture on the arm beam of the crosses of the thieves and degraded Jesus alongside them. And tempted him three more times.

Perhaps this seems strange. “Why” you ask “would the stranger waste his time with any more temptations?” “What left is there to offer?”

Jesus was a man and I’m sure like most men, like most humans, the world had much to offer him with. Money, sex, power. But the only real temptations for him centered around who he was, about what he was going to do, about the role he had in the future of all things. Jesus, the Messiah. We know that title. Of course – Messiah! The one who died for us, we say. Simple. What is there to tempt? But we come after the climax and shocking reveal. We know Messiah in hindsight whereas Jesus and all those around him struggled in the midst of it. Messiah? What kind?

These were Jesus’ temptations. Be a messiah of Bread, the stranger offered. A Messiah who feeds us would never end up on a cross. Be a messiah of wonders, the stranger cajoled. A Messiah who calls upon angels would never die a traitor’s death. Be a messiah of armies and conquest, the stranger begged. A Messiah with an army would never be given over to his enemies to die by suffocation. Avoid the Cross….Avoid the Cross.

And so they are his temptations again.

Hear again the word of the scriptures: Those who passed by derided him, shaking their heads and saying, ‘You who would destroy the temple and build it in three days, save yourself! If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross.’ These passers-by mock him. If you are the Son of God, come down of the cross and show us how mighty you are! Destroy the temple? You and what army? If you are the Messiah…come down off the Cross.

Hear the scriptures again: In the same way the chief priests also, along with the scribes and elders, were mocking him, saying, ‘He saved others; he cannot save himself. He is the King of Israel; let him come down from the cross now, and we will believe in him. He trusts in God; let God deliver him now, if he wants to; for he said, “I am God’s Son.” ’ The priests challenge him. “We know” they say “who the Son of God is. The Son of God will be the King of Israel. The Son of God will always have the protection of God. You the Son of God? You, the dying criminal? You, the abandoned one? Some King! Some Son! If you are the Messiah….come down off the Cross.”

Hear the scriptures again: The bandits who were crucified with him also taunted him in the same way. Even the thieves, the men who were dying alongside Jesus mocked him. “Son of God? Since when does the Son of any god keep company like us? Son of God? On a Cross? Condemned and close to death? If you are the Son of God…If you are the Messiah….come down off the cross!”

Be a messiah of might by bringing down the temple. Be a messiah who is king . Be a messiah who is pure and only walks with the righteous. Be a messiah…just come down off the cross! Come down off the cross!

All the stranger ever wanted was for Jesus to avoid the cross. To avoid being the Messiah who dies so that we may live. And once Jesus was on the cross, all the stranger wanted was for him to come down. For Jesus to live so that we would die.

Whenever we tell this story to each other, on nights like these, we like to pretend that we are the righteous few who would not have crucified Jesus. We are not in the crowd that mocks, or the priests who shame or the thieves who degrade. We are certainly not the stranger – come down…come down.

But tonight, of all nights, I think that the time has come to admit something. Tonight. Of all nights, before we once again enact that last supper, it is time to confess. We were the crowd who said “Let his blood be upon us and our children!” We were the priests who mocked him “King of Israel? Here’s your crown!” We were the thieves, unrepentent in our sin even unto death: “You are the Son of God?”

Come down off the cross. Come Down Off The Cross. COME DOWN OFF THE CROSS!

We are desperate, just as the stranger was, just as the mocking crowds were, for Jesus to be a different messiah. We can stomach the savior who feeds us. We can bear the savior who entertains us. We can follow the messiah in all of his might. But we cannot, will not have a messiah who saves us. A messiah who must die to do so. And why?

Because we cannot bear the guilt. We cannot bear the shame. And we cannot bear the truth that it is what we so desperately need.

Letting Jesus be the Messiah who suffers, letting Jesus be the Messiah who dies, letting Jesus be lowest and despised is painful. The pain is that of being stretched, of having one hand tied to the tree which is the cross and the other tied to the first tree, the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. If Jesus does not come down from the cross, we are pulled between these trees, constantly facing our sin, knowing that we chose to eat of the fruit and so Jesus chose to die for our sakes. Because he will not come down, we are ripped apart. We, like the veil of the temple, have been torn asunder.

He would not avoid it. He would not come down. And he died. And so did any of our pretensions that we could save ourselves.

This is a dark night. And perhaps that is on purpose. The dark invades us and finds its own echoes in our minds, our hearts, our histories. The dark calls to dark and we are confronted with our own sin, our own need for grace, our own culpability between the trees.

Dawn will come. The dark will not last forever. But now it is dark.