How easy is it for you to ask for help?

For many, that's a difficult thing to do! But what grace there is, flowing from God, when we allow others to carry us through a period of need. It may be short-term: a period during which you're simply snowed under with more demands than one person can humanly fulfill. Or, it may be a longer stretch: of illness, or grieving. Certainly, I have been changed by my months of illness, and one of the changes, I hope, is permanent: that I'm now more willing to ask for help, to rely on others.

What makes it hard to ask for help? It is pride, pure and simple. You may remember that, in traditional church teaching, pride is one of the "biggie" sins. An example of Lenten repentance, of returning to God, could be allowing yourself to be vulnerable, opening yourself, asking for help!

I was very interested to come across the sentences below, written by William Temple, who was Archbishop of Canterbury in the first part of the 20th century. (The last sentence is particularly striking!)

"The divine humility shows itself in rendering service. Jesus, who is entitled to claim the service of all his creaures, chooses first to give his service to them. 'The Son of Man came not to receive service but to give it.'

"But our humility does not begin with the giving of service; it begins with the readiness to receive it. For there can be much pride and condescension in our giving of service. It is wholesome only when it is offered spontaneously on the impulse of real love; the conscientious offer of it is almost sure to 'have the nature of sin,' as almost all virtue has of which the origin is in our own deliberate wills. For unless the will is perfectly cleansed, its natural or original sin -- the sin inherent in it of acting from the self instead of God as center -- contaminates all its works.

"So a person's humility shows itself first in the readiness to receive service from others and supremely from God. To accept service from others is to acknowledge a measure of dependence on them. It is well for us to stand on our own feet; to go through life in parasitic dependence on others, contributing nothing, is contemptible; but those who are doing their share of the world's work should have no hesitation in receiving what the love or generosity of others may offer. The desire 'not to be beholden to anybody' is completely unchristian."

I am celebrating my latest accomplishment of physical and occupational therapy: this morning I carried three mugs of coffee on a tray down from the church kitchen to distribute to office staff -- and I didn't spill a single drop!

I think back to my time in a hospital bed. I remember marveling at how quickly the nurses were moving -- even though they were walking around only at a normal pace. I remember how hard it was to open an envelope at one point and, later, what a feat it was to move to the chair next to the bed. My movements were in slow motion.

I remember, as well, being on the ventilator with the oxygen level cranked up to 40 and 50%, and being amazed at all the people who were breathing room air with no difficulty.

Perhaps a person doesn't truly appreciate health and mobility until s/he has struggled through a period of serious illness.

You know what I've been noticing in recent days, as the temperatures have risen? There are more and more bicylists out on the roads! I've been afraid to get out there in the cold, because I haven't wanted to expose my lungs to that temperature. But, according to the last forecast I read, the high will be in the 60s on Saturday! It might be a day to get out there to ride a few miles.

Unfortunately, I won't be in shape to ride in Reed Nester's annual birthday ride, which will be the next Saturday. (One kilometer for each year of his life. I won't reveal how many kilometers; let's just say it's over 50!) But that's ok. Reed's rides tend to have an adverse effect on the weather. One year we started out in chilly, overcast conditions. And then it started to rain. And then it started to rain hard. And then the temperature dropped and the rain turned to sleet. It was patriotic and educational: we experienced what Washington's soldiers felt like at Valley Forge.

"Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return."

Are those frightening words? Each Ash Wednesday I say those words, as I trace the sign of the cross, in ashes, on the foreheads of people that I love. It is a difficult thing for me to do! How fragile our human lives are.

Each morning when I stand in front of the mirror, preparing to shave, with my shirt off, two scars on my body still frighten me. One scar reminds me where the tracheostomy was, when I could not breathe on my own and depended on a ventilator. The other is where the PEG line (feeding tube) was inserted. How fragile human life is. I cannot forget that, because of those scars

Joseph Sittler once wrote, "The fear of death, I am convinced, is at the root of all human apprehension." Our culture encourages us to try out best to bury that fear, to pretend that we will live forever. The thousands of marketing messages we receie each day encourage us to believe that the universe revolves around us!

On the other hand, the journey of faith leads us into that fear, because that's where the grace-filled promises of God become real; no longer simply words.

We will die. Only when that is real to us are we open to receiving God's grace. Only then do we live in healthy humility. Only then do we come to depend on our trust and confidence and joyful hope in God. Only then do we receive the Good News of Jesus the Christ, that there is life with God after our human deaths.

Pitchers and catchers begin Spring Training today! Hooray!

It's a more reliable sign than that provided by any Pennsylvania groundhog. Spring Training has begun! The cold weather will end! Warm weather is coming! Hooray!

For my early morning prayer I use the resource, For All The Saints, which includes the three readings in the Lutheran Book of Worship daily lectionary, and a reading and a prayer from the riches of the Christian tradition.

I was surprised by this morning's prayer. But, upon reflection, I think it's remarkably timely during these days as our Congress is debating the budget (including its provisions for care of the poor) and issues of war and peace in Iraq:

"Almighty God: we make our earnest prayer that thou wilt keep the United States in thy holy protection; that thou wilt incline the hearts of the citizens to cultivate a spirit of brotherly affection and love for one another and for their fellow citizens of the United States at large and finally that thou wilt most graciously be pleased to dispose us all to do justice, to love mercy and to demean themselves with that charity, humility and pacific temper of mind which were the characteristics of the Divine Author of our blessed religion, and without a humble imitation of whose example in these things we can never hope to be a happy nation. Grant our supplication, we beseech thee, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

-- George Washington (1732-1799)

Maybe it was because this morning was my first morning back doing the whole shebang -- preaching and worship leadership and adult class -- that I was thinking, while I was shaving, about the first few times I shaved myself in the hospital. It was in the Progressive Ventilator Care Unit, and I had so little strength in my hands, and I had to be so careful about staying away from the tracheostomy, that the whole effort exhausted me. Then, this morning, as I jumped in and out of the shower, I remembered how bathing and dressing took an hour when I was first home from the hospital. I had to disconnect the 24/7 oxygen to bathe. Afterwards, I was as worn out as if I'd been in an endurance workout, and had to take a nap!

Thank God for strength, and for healing.

I say that because all healing comes from God.

I say that even though (as my cousin Michael reminds me, mourning his wife, Nancy) not everyone does heal physically, even when many people are praying for that healing. This places us deep in mystery.

It is God's will that every sick person will strengthen and heal. It is God's will that life be full and abundant. It cannot be God's will that someone die tragically.

So, why does that happen? Sometimes we can point to reasons: consequences that follow self-destructive actions. But sometimes there is simply no reason, no answer. All I can affirm, deep in this mystery, is that God is with the person who is dying. God is suffering in the dying. That is what the incarnation means: God in human flesh, "Emmanuel -- which means, 'God with us.'"

How sad for the editors of the Virginia Gazette. There was nothing about the Wren Chapel cross that they could sensationalize this morning, so there was nothing on the front page. The only thing that could be reported was the quiet, deliberative discussion that the College's Board of Visitors had on the issue, and so they buried that story way back on page 20.

It seems to me that nearly all of the emotion over the cross is media-driven. Since the Board of Visitors didn't decide to reverse President Gene Nichol's policy (that would have generated a huge-type headline in the Gazette!), perhaps the hysteria will die down, and there can be a constructive conversation in the College community on the role of religion in the life of a public university.

To this point, the College of William and Mary has seen campus ministries to be partners in the work of caring for students. A member of the Student Affairs office regularly attends the semi-monthly meetings of Campus Ministries United (CaMU). CaMU has at least one conversation each year with the Counseling Center staff and with the President. Last year we met with the campus Chief of Police and with the Director of the student health center. At the request of the Vice President for Student Affairs, campus ministers are on call for emergencies. The College even releases to the ministries the names of incoming students who indicate a religious preference, so we can send them letters of invitation. Very few universities and colleges do that. The College of William and Mary is certainly not a godless place!

Wow, the emotion over the Wren Chapel cross continues and even intensifies. If I were one of President Nichol's advisers I'd say, "Put it back! It's not worth all this!" Maybe he's working behind the scenes with members of the Board of Visitors so, at their upcoming meeting, they will overrule him in a way that will still endorse his efforts to make the College a more hospitable place to students and faculty of all backgrounds.

There is so much emotional reactivity in our community these days. There is so much suspicion over motives. Is it an ACLU plot, just the first step on a slippery slope? There is so much anger: "Put the cross back or I'm not giving another penny to the College."

And then there is the cross as a symbol. It's not at all straightfoward, as the letter writers in the Gazette would assert. What does the cross symbolize for you? For me it brings to mind Jesus' humiliation and death for us human beings and for the world. It symbolizes God's self-giving. But I also understand that, for Jews and Muslims who know their history, the cross stands for death. Jews were killed as "Christ killers" by mobs carrying the cross, during numerous European pogroms throughout the centuries. Even today, fundamentalists in this country carry the cross as they threaten Jews with hell if they don't convert to Christianity. The Crusades were carried out against Muslims by armies with the cross on their clothing. Even today, Muslim extremists whip up their followers by drawing parallels between the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan and the Crusades.

I've been thinking about something I read in the past couple of weeks. I can't remember where it was now! But I remember the wording of a phrase. The author declared that peace would only be possible if "humble Christians, moderate Muslims and tolerant Jews" would get together as a force in the world. I wonder if that coalition would make for peace in this Williamsburg controversy? Right now, too many shrieking voices are overpowering that possibility. There is very little charity and very little listening going on -- behaviors that are urged upon us in the Christian Scriptures.

I really don't think it makes much difference whether there is a cross on display in the Wren Chapel or not. I don't think civilization will end if it's not visible 24/7. On the other hand, if President Nichol is reversed and the cross is restored to the altar, I would pray that it's seen as a symbol of the humble servanthood Jesus embodied, the humble servanthood that all Christians are called to.

As the ancient hymn text puts it:

"Where charity and love prevail,
there God is ever found;..."

and in the last stanza:

"Let us forgive each other's faults
as we our own confess,
that we may love each other well
in Christian gentleness."

(Evangelical Lutheran Worship Hymn #359)

What a joy it was today to meet with two groups that I participate in monthly, but hadn't seen for four months: William and Mary campus ministers and Peninsula Conference Lutheran pastors. It was wonderful to be welcomed back by them! It was wonderful to have the energy to work a full, active day. I haven't yet gone back out again for an evening meeting. That will happen for the first time on Thursday. We'll see how that goes!

It was wonderful to be up there, leading the liturgy yesterday morning!

I had no idea how closely folks have been watching me over these past Sunday mornings, when I've been part of the worshiping congregation. Several people told me yesterday that they've seen marked change week by week, in the way I've been carrying myself, as I've gained in strength and confidence.

I've also appreciated the words from those who have spoken words of grace, such as, "Don't try to do too much." Or, "Please take care of yourself." That is my intention! But it's something I'm learning how to do. I'm very good at keeping strong boundaries around my days off. That's healthy. But I don't know how to go less than full speed ahead every moment of every working day. So I speak grace, but I do not live it! That's something the Holy Spirit can teach me, as I continue to work through the experiences of my illness: how to be more graceful with myself.

Through the miracle of computer technology, Michael Javier scanned pictures of my face and inserted them onto comic book cover pictures of Superman! (Get it? To be recovering the way I am from my illness, I must be Super Andy!) The pictures are hilarious, and so, of course, I've posted them on my office door.

I've been told the following conversation took place yesterday, among several of our pre-school students who saw the pictures:

"Hey! Look at those pictures of Pastor!"
"Yeah. (pause) They must have been taken when he was a lot younger."
"Yeah. They were taken a long time ago."

Now that I've gotten older, I can only leap over medium-sized buildings in a single bound ...

"The beginning of praise is to wonder."

In 1981, an Anglican monk said those words to a handful of us who were on a three-day retreat with him, and I've thought about those words many times in the years since. It is out of a sense of wonder that we come to praise God. And there are reasons for wonderment all around us, every day. What is spiritually deadening is taking for granted all the blessings that fill each day.

This morning, it was birds that caused my wonderment. I have my exercise bike pointed so I can look out of one of our windows -- across our front yard and the street and towards an undeveloped lot across the street. The lot is actually a jumble of fallen trees, after the storms we've had over the past several years. That means it's a magnet for woodpeckers! This morning, as I pedaled, there was a red bellied woodpecker, as well as a couple of blue jays. The blue jays were being aggressive, as they always are, and were giving the woodpecker a hard time as he flitted from tree to tree, searching out insects. After a bit, the woodpecker wondered why he was putting up with the harrassment, and he left the blue jays to their activities. He flew closer to me, and spent time checking out the trees in our front yard.

What an everyday occurrence -- and what a source of wonder! How amazing that these birds were created with such brilliant colors! What a wonder that the different species of birds were created to support themselves in so many different ways, ways that end up sustaining our environment! Praise God!

I've been taking it easy this morning, after my first day back yesterday. When I got home at the end of the day, I was tired and glad I had no evening obligation. One thing I've thought about: I am very good about carving out sabbath time, time for rest. But when I'm "on the job," I don't know how to do anything other than to go full speed! I'll have to learn how to pour a cup of coffee and just sit to rest for a few minutes. Another thing I noticed: dinner really perked me up! As you know, I can't eat for three hours before taking my medication, and then for another two hours afterwards. That makes me think, now that I'm returning to activity, it's key for me to eat a big lunch to tide me over until I can eat dinner!

I'll go in this afternoon to see off the group from St. Stephen that's going to the Synod's Winter Celebration youth event. Robin is taking 16 kids!! Wow. A huge regret of my illness is that I've missed both the Lost and Found event and, now, Winter Cel. I'll look forward to next year!

How wonderful it is to be back! One of the first things I saw this morning was a sign taped to the floor outside my office: "Hug Line Forms Here!" And then I saw a welcome back sign from the Pre-School teachers. So I've been getting hugs on this cold morning!

It is a day of joyous activities: greeting people who are stopping by, doing pre-school chapel (I asked the children, "Have you ever been so sick you had to go to the doctor and get medicine??"), meeting with a young mother who's asking about baptism for her daughter, working with one of our elementary aged kids on a Cub Scout badge, oh -- and digging out of what's accumulated over the past four months. (Actually, that pile is not nearly as high as it would have been, had there not been such effective lay and pastoral leadership while I was sick.)

I have also put out a picture of my Dad that I took in 1974 or 1975 -- when he was about the age I am now. He's sitting in his home office, at the typewriter (symbolic of his life's work as a communicator). He has a cigar in his hand; his messy roll-top desk is in the background; he's working on something. (The church newsletter, which he edited for decades?) It's a good picture for me to look at, to remember him full of vigor and personality.

Today is a day full of blessings.

It is a day to give thanks to God.