Today, the wider church celebrates Joseph, Guardian of Jesus. Of course, the title being intentional with God being the parent and all, but still…no pressure at all for Joseph. Just try to raise the Son of God with tenderness and care and assurance of safety. Granted, we can assume that God was going to make sure all the above was taken care of and then some, but I wonder how much of an impact was made on the earthly Jesus by his home-front father. Did he even further appreciate the people who spend all hours of the day painstakingly working with their hands learning from a carpenter? Did he even grow more in compassion and empathy with those who weren’t in the most well-off circumstances? Unfortunately, we don’t know much about Joseph, but maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be.
It has become part of my yearly routine to start off pulling up a quote from The Rev. Nadia Bolz-Weber, one of our more famous speakers in our precious portion of the body of Christ known as the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA): “There is no resolution that, if kept, will make you more worthy of love. You, as your actual self and not as some made up ideal, are already worthy of love.” And then, I figured those Gospel-esque words could very much apply to Lent as well.
“Dust thou art, and unto dust, thou shalt return.” I don’t remember exactly when we Lutherans in the small speck of northwest Ohio made the transition to the trendy/modern, “Remember you are dust, and unto dust, you shall return,” but even me who may not have been the biggest fan of the thee’s and thou’s and shalt’s and the like from the King James Version Bibles that stubbornly hung around the church building; I still had this unexplainable appreciation of the seemingly ancient Ash Wednesday proclamation. There was something so formal about it. Something perhaps even regal. It was a precious connection to the generations past who heard the same words on the first night of their Lenten journey. Or maybe it was the poetic-ness of it, possibly making mortality not quite as intimidating or frightening; as if it was just the natural order of things that God didn’t mind getting down and dirty in with shaping mortal and everlasting life.
As much as we at Divinity are fully aware of the importance of being part of the technological world with using computers and relatively up-scale copier machines, not to mention sophisticated sound boards and Wi-Fi capabilities and a newer security system before moving onto worship and concert live-streaming, as well as the needed social media presence; with all that being said, we are also fully aware of needing to avoid it becoming our complete reality. For starters, we recognize that with all the advancements in modern technology, there will be some glitches with projectors and heating, for starters, and we find ways to manage in still worshiping God. But, we also boldly proclaim that becoming so infatuated with a variety of forms of screens and quicker access to…not-so-Gospel-news, the human mind and heart and soul can experience a variety of forms of deterioration.
Last weekend, Saturday Night Live turned 50 years young. And although I haven’t watched a full episode for quite some time, there were plenty of instances during my growing-up years to partake “Weekend Update” with Norm Macdonald at the helm or “Celebrity Jeopardy” with Will Ferrel leading the way and numerous skits with Chris Farley. Some of that content may not exactly be appropriate for church communications, let’s say, but it does remind the church that most children of God appreciate a good laugh or two to de-stress, help keep things in perspective, to not take one’s self too seriously, among other things, but also remembering that part of God’s character can very much include enjoyment and laughter.
