Spiritual Disciplines

Prepare to Die—Part II

Can’t help but start today’s post with the most famous quotation from Princess Bride (with heavy Spanish accent): “Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.” He gives that warning several times in the classic movie, enough for the viewer to know that nobody is actually going to die any time soon. But the line cracks my funny bone. I am serious today, however, when I say, “Prepare to die.” I am going to die. You are going to die. It may not be anytime soon . . . [Just for the record, my progress […]

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Prepare to Die—Part I

An interesting article appeared in Sunday’s Contra Costa Times in the “Your Life” section of the paper, entitled “Coffee, cake & grave conversation.” It described a Death Café, a hosted conversation about death and grief in Santa Cruz, California (one among many in California). The group’s purpose is to formalize discussions “to help ease the anxiety around death and dying.” As I read the article, it appears that the intended benefit is spiritual and practical, as people share and learn about various burial options, celebratory rituals, and advanced directives. It reminds me of a series of adult classes we used

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Nothing, and Everything, to Lose

In my last post, I observed that the religiously allergic around us need a winsome witness to the gospel and that we must enter into the sort of discipleship practices that will help us give it. Perhaps my readers have had a chance to think about their own resistance to this calling, and in order to do that thoroughly it is wise to count the cost and face it head-on. When we do so, the cost loses its deterrent power over us and puts us into a position to see the mighty hand of God at work in and through

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Spurring One Another On

Cancer treatment varies depending on the type and stage of one’s particular disease. The protocols tend to be repetitive and cyclical. In my case, chemotherapy runs on a four-week cycle:  one week plus one day “on,” and the remainder of the four weeks “off,” recovering. By the time Week Four rolls around, I am feeling pretty good, almost normal! This is one of those weeks, and I am getting a lot of things done around the house as a result. I’ve been through two complete rounds, and Round Three of chemo begins next Monday. I can pretty much plan on

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The Twelfth Day of Christmas: Magi Bearing Gifts

[Yes, my friends, I have been aware for some time now that I started counting my twelve days of Christmas on the wrong day, the day after Christmas. Technically today is the first day of the season of Epiphany, not the last day of Christmastide. So humor me while I pretend that the visit of the wise men is the climax of the Christmas season. I’ll do better next year!] This twelfth day of Christmastide is a special day on my personal calendar. Eighteen years ago on this date my father died suddenly of a cerebral hemorrhage. At the time,

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The Tenth Day of Christmas: Two Old Saints Made Happy

Every once in awhile, especially at night, a thought crosses my mind that perhaps I am living the last year or two of my life. I try not to think about this too much, not because I am in denial about the dangers of my disease, but because it gets me in a place that is counterproductive. I’ll be writing more about this after Christmastide is over. But it does raise the concept of a “bucket list,” a term coined by a 2007 movie of that name, staring Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman. These two hospital roommates bust out of

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The Second Day of Christmas: A Virgin Deep in Thought

One of the delightful side-stories to my cancer journey is about getting to know my caregivers. All my doctors (medical oncologist, radiology oncologist, and surgeon) are women with unique and distinguished backgrounds. After this morning, I will have seen all three within a week, and each has provided good information to me even as they have stayed in close touch with each other. It is more than comforting to know how well they collaborate and how they have kept me briefed on progress, decision-points, and options. My family and I met with the surgeon on Tuesday to discuss the next

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Christ in My World and Yours: The Gospel of John

I awoke this morning at 2 o’clock thinking about the decision-making meeting with my surgeon at 11. The feelings were not trepidation, but excitement and a teacher’s love for detail. And then I remembered what day it is—Christmas Eve!—and my chosen spiritual discipline for the week, and the absolute necessity of putting even a medical consultation in the context of Christ’s glorious Incarnation. So today, we turn to the fourth gospel, John’s late-first-century rendering of the person and work of Jesus Christ. John, having believed in Christ now for decades and staking his life upon the claims Jesus made while

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Christ Enters My World: The Gospel of Mark

I continue to push back against the tide of other topics and preoccupations this week, to ponder in a new way the meaning of Christmas. If Christ came into the world, is it not reasonable to appreciate that he came into my world (and our world) as well? If he did that, his incarnation surely has an impact on the conduct of my life. Today we turn the page to the gospel of Mark, which has no birth narrative. The story of Jesus’ life starts thirty years later, with the prophetic announcement of his cousin John: “Prepare the way of

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Christ Enters My World: Christmas According to Matthew

Preachers have a dual challenge each week, to exegete a scriptural text for preaching and to interpret where their people are in a position to hear it. Because of my current detachment from my church family for wisdom’s sake (avoidance of the colds and flu going around), it seems as though the last thing on my mind these days is Christmas. I have not seen the decorations in the sanctuary, attended a party, or even completed my Christmas shopping. Unlike yours, perhaps, my mental space is occupied at the moment with this decision that will be made on Christmas Eve

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