May 6, 2014
Dear St. Paul’s Family,
Life is filled with constant vacillations between hilltops and valleys, highs and lows. We chart our time with linear progressions of days and years, but life is never a straight line forward. It is an undulating wave, meandering through triumphs and tragedies at a random pace, surprising us around every bend with what lies next. There is no predictability to life, no surefire way of foreseeing the future. We yearn for what lies ahead, only to realize that it cannot surely be grasped. We cast anchor for the past, back to the “good old days,” fickly forgetting that the nature of change makes such a return impossible.
All we have with any certainty is the here and now. Our only true task is not to fret about tomorrow or get stuck in yesterday, but to focus on the gift of the present moment. The more we live into and breathe through every moment as it comes, the more we realize that our lives are actually never static, nor our existence ever still. There is movement in every moment.
At times, we are moving uphill, ascending steep grades of struggles and suffering, with every step a challenge. At other times, as we get over the hump, we cruise downhill with speed and glee, hurtling with joyful freedom. And there are times that we cannot discern exactly what is happening, as the two extremes seem indistinguishable.
After all, the analogies of “uphill” and “downhill” are too ambiguous, if not downright confusing. What does it mean to go “uphill,” anyway? If someone says, “Business is really going uphill,” is that good or bad? Might it mean that it is rising to the top and ascending towards a peak? Or perhaps the terrain is too tough, the climb too steep, and the pull of gravity too strong. Likewise, is going “downhill” a good thing? It might mean coasting along life with little effort and great contentment. But in the context of finances, or age, or health, going downhill means something else entirely.
Maybe it is in their vagueness that such metaphors have meaning, for ambiguity is inherent to every moment. Notice the next time you take a long walk what happens when you walk up a hill. When you are going uphill, it might seem at first to be a chore. Your legs burn, your ankles ache, sweat moistens your furrowed vow, and your shoulders slouch. But also notice that as you are ascending, you are forced to walk at a more deliberate pace, slowing your speed to enable you to observe your surroundings with keener perception, more focused clarity, and greater appreciation. Uphill climbs make you notice things around you that you might otherwise have sped past. You are also exercising those muscles, putting them through a rigor that will lead to increased strength and endurance for the long haul. Going uphill might seem laborious, but it has its redemptive qualities.
Now notice what happens when you pass the crest and begin the downward slope. Your speed is quickened, and your effort is eased. This will feel like a pleasure, one that you wish would linger for a while. But you must be careful, for it is here that gravity is both friend and foil. You must watch your feet to avoid even the slightest misstep. Your forward momentum amplifies every slight move, and a small miscalculation will send you tumbling toward injury. Your speed feels like freedom, but it makes relishing, savoring, and absorbing the world around you all but impossible. Going downhill is indeed a pleasure, but it is coupled with great caution.
The lesson here is simple. Not only must we live in the moment, we must acknowledge its ambiguity. And therein lies our path to clear-minded living. When we go through the toughest struggles, we can dare to believe that something redemptive is still at work, and it will be fully revealed someday. And even when we experience the highest thrills, we must guard against pride, complacency, and self-deception, for even the slightest misstep can avalanche quickly.
Highs are not as high as we think they are, but neither are our lows as low as we fear they are. Every triumph has a subversive side of caution, and every tragedy has a shadow side of redemption.
The Greeks had a word to describe this realization about time: kairos. It means the richness and depth inherent in each moment. It is not the kind of time that moves lifelessly onward, in a sequential march of minutes, days, and years. Instead, it is a realization that each moment we have is loaded with meaning, including caution and hope and everything in between.
Here’s one more way to say it: No matter what you are going through, God is in it. It may not be clearly evident to you now. The pain of your struggle may be so intense that you cannot see through the fog of your disillusionment to sense anything beyond the trauma. But there is a redemptive hand already at work. Your uphill climb is forcing you to slow down, observe what you would otherwise miss, and develop the musculature to work through the next inevitable climb.
God is at work, in the midst of uncertainty, because God lives in the ambiguities. That’s how a mysterious God operates: just beyond the reach of our senses and sensibilities, but fully approachable through our faith. “He who learns must suffer,” said the Greek playwright Aeschylus. “And even in our sleep, pain – which cannot forget – falls drop by drop upon the heart, until, in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God.”
And even if life for you is calm and serene, watch out: God is at work. As long as there is an inkling within us that flirts with the fallacy that we are self-made creatures, and as long as we walk with a puffy-chested, thumb-nosing swagger, God is ready to conform us into a likeness of humble service that fulfills the image of God within us. It’s not to say that God uses trauma to teach us a lesson. I don’t believe in that. But it is to say that when life is going well, sin exerts its greatest influence, as pride, gluttony, and laziness impede the way of holy living.
My prayer for you is that you would experience that “awful grace of God” in the midst of your lives, in every present moment. May you come to know the joy that comes in trusting God in the midst of your hardship, as you take your journey through the ups and downs of life, one step at a time.
Grace and Peace,
Magrey
The Rev. Magrey R. deVega
St. Paul's United Methodist Church
531 W. Main St.
Cherokee, IA 51012
Ph: 712-225-3955
Email: mdevega@sp-umc.org
CONFIRMATION SUNDAY AND CAMP FUND OFFERING
Join us this Sunday as we celebrate a milestone in the faith of our seventh graders. Confirmation Sunday gives them the opportunity to affirm the vows taken on their behalf long ago, and you will want to be part of this sure highlight of the St. Paul’s church calendar. In addition, for this Mother’s Day you have the opportunity to give the gift in her honor or memory that will make a real difference in the life of a child at Camp this summer. All of the proceeds that come from this special offering this Sunday will go directly to offset the cost of camp tuition at Lake Okoboji.
HOT DOG DAYS THIS THURSDAY
Once again, we will be serving hot dogs town-wide for this year’s annual “Hot Dog Days.” We will be serving food along Main Street along the north lawn sidewalk starting at 5pm until we run out of food. If you would like to help with set-up, cleanup, and serving, contact the church office.
VACATION BIBLE SCHOOL REGISTRATION BEGINS
Registration is now open for our summer VBS "Weird Animals,” taking place June 16-20 from 9am-Noon. Registration will be open till May 23rd. The cost is $7 and includes a t-shirt. Kids age 4 years old thru completion of 4th grade are welcome. Registration forms available at church office, and will also be available in Sunday School classrooms and will be handed out to kids this week. Contact the church office at 225-3955 or Korrie Waldner at 229-7112 with any questions.
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