Walks with Barry - Profoundly Simple: A Walk Reframed

  Here we stand, on the eve of a new year. It stretches out before us as wide open as this field, dormant, ready to spring to life. The skies aren’t completely clear, clouds will be a part of things, no doubt. But it is a new beginning, a way of marking time that allows space for a change of direction or a change of heart. It is a day that invites us into reflection on where we have been and on where we would eventually like to be. The best is that, at this moment, everyday of the new year lies in front of us. 2022 is all possibility at this point. Wouldn’t it be great to experience life in moments such as this, where we live in nothing but the possibility, not in the regrets or the mistakes or the failures of our life? Wouldn’t it be great to see only the wide open space before us and not be overwhelmed by the obstacles that we know lie ahead? The prophet Isaiah writes, “Remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old. Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs fort

  On a recent overcast morning, it was strange to see this little cloud within a cloud floating above the rooftops. Its elongated shape was distinct against the grey sky. It looked like a small version of the Hindenburg or some other airship of old. Silently it navigated the neighborhood as I walked the streets. It seemed so peaceful and calm. I imagined buying a ticket and hopping on board, curious to find the destination for which it was headed. I would travel in the silence with no schedule to keep, no particular place to be. It would be a quiet and solitary adventure. We tend to think of adventures solely in terms of excitement and size. Big. Loud. Dangerous. Thrilling. And many adventures should be described exactly in such terms. But we should also be open to adventures that are experienced differently. Reflection and meditation can be an adventure as we discover new things about ourselves. Reading and study can transport us to other worlds and other times, all in the quiet of ou

  These days seem to me each year to be “in between days”. Between the celebrations of Christmas and the New Year. Between one year and the next. Between what was and what will be. As do those daily moments between night and morning, they have a different feel. Time seems to flow differently. There is still much to be done, of course, deadlines and reports and wrapping up. But our minds seem to be in a slightly different mode. We are divided between looking back and looking forward. When I was a boy, our church helped us out in this transition with a youth event on New Years Eve. There weren’t many places to go where we lived. We would gather at the church. There were lots of snacks and food and games and fun. We would sing a little and play a little and eat a little. As midnight drew near, we would gather and have a prayer for the New Year. We prayed for health and growth and to be faithful in the months ahead. We celebrated that each of us had a new beginning, that this could be a “d

  This past Sunday, as the sun rose on a unseasonably warm morning, I spotted this solitary rabbit in the baptismal garden. As I observed from inside the glass breezeway connecting two buildings, the animal just sat and sat and sat. The brick walkway is surrounded by grass and landscaping, settings that would seem much more hospitable to a rabbit. But here it was, positioned front and center. I tried to imagine what it was thinking as it sat so still for so long. It was as if there was a big decision to be made. Options were being weighed. Scenarios run. Lists of benefit and loss compiled. Directions to be decided. It appeared to be a most serious bunny. As we move quickly toward the start of a new year, perhaps we are feeling a little like the bunny. Where will we go? What lies ahead ? What decisions would be best for ourselves and those we care about the most? If only we could see down the road far enough to know which choice is the right choice, or the best choice. If we are not int

  On this Monday after Christmas, I pray your experience was joyful and bright. I hope that you found a moment of reflection, a moment of comfort and a moment of hope. Before the decorations disappear for another year, I share again the words of the brilliant Howard Thurman: The Work of Christmas When the song of the angels is stilled, When the star in the sky is gone, When the kings and princes are home, When the shepherds are back with their flock, The work of Christmas begins: To find the lost, To heal the broken, To feed the hungry, To release the prisoner, To rebuild the nations, To bring peace among others, To make music in the heart. May we each, in our own way, be about the work of Christmas throughout the coming year. Peace.

  Well, we made it. The end of our Advent journey has arrived. Today, on Christmas Eve, we celebrate the birth of Jesus. This day means many things on many levels. Time with family and friends. Traditions around food and activities. Gift giving and parties. Special music and movies. All good things and blessings to all. But it also carries an even more profound and deeper meaning. In this birth we find hope. We find hope for our own lives and our own struggles. We find hope for our troubled world. We find hope for the future. We find hope for this moment. Why? Because in this birth the light has come. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through Him all things were made, and without Him nothing was made that has been made. In Him was life, and that life was the light of men. The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it…The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have see

  For a moment, the sun was at just the right angle as it shone into the sanctuary through the stained glass window. It cast a perfect reflection of the Noah’s Ark image onto the wall. It was amazing. The first followers of Jesus talked about him in this way. We read in Colossians, “He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation.” The one whose birthday we celebrate in a couple of days lived a life which reflects to us the truth about God. Jesus reflects the truth about who God is and what God is really like. God is really with us in this life. God longs to be in a life-giving relationship with us. God is at work to bring health and wholeness. God is breaking down the barriers which separate us. God is love. So why, then, do we work so hard to create God in images of our own design? We know the truth. We have experienced the truth. The truth of the nature of God is more glorious and wonderful than we could ever imagine. And God revealed it clearly to us in the life

  I was a boy when the original animated version of “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” was released. It is hard to imagine now, but that was back in the day when a show was aired on television once. If you missed it, you missed it. No streaming. No means of recording. A television show like this one was an event. You had to wait until the next Christmas and hope they ran the show again. Funny, but I still look forward to watching this show every season. It has been a part of my holiday across these 50+ years. I can quote every line and still try my hand at the singing. And I still love the heart of the story, how the Grinch’s heart grew three sizes when he realized that Christmas didn’t come from a store, when he learned that Christmas was about love. Something about that moment changes him. This is the point in the season when the Grinch can come out in any of us. The feeling we are running out of time. The traffic. The crowds. The burden of perceived expectations that rob us of the joy

  In the midst of all the excitement, all the lights and all the flash, this plain and unadorned evergreen stood out to me one evening as I passed. In a way, it seems to best represent the story of the season. Standing straight, though weathered by time and storm, it reaches down into the earth and stretches up into the sky. The idea of the incarnation, of God being born a human into our world and into the life we share, is beyond our imagination. It is so complicated that people have argued about it from the beginning. Yet, at its heart, it is about one thing. Love. God’s love for us is so strong that God would stop at nothing to make that love known to us. That love comes in many ways, ultimately in the presence of God with us. With us in all the mess of the world. With us in all the mess of our lives. God is love, and God is with us. We read in 1 John, “Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love.” We can seek to know God in many ways. But the bottom line is simple:

  As the night of Christmas Eve draws near, the excitement grows. Doesn’t it take you back? The lights and sounds and feeling of Christmas are powerful in evoking memories. I feel it myself, and I see it on the faces of those around me. As I drove home last night, I enjoyed the outdoor lights. As I looked out my window at the colors, I was transported back to my childhood. It seemed like only yesterday that I was a boy at Christmas. One of our family traditions, and one of my favorites, was the night we would pile in the car and make the drive to Little Rock to look at the lights. I can still feel the cold. I can remember bundling up in my winter coat. I can remember the thrill of piling in the back seat with my brother and sister and taking our places for the ride. It was one of those things that my dad seemed to enjoy so much in his quiet way. He would navigate through the neighborhoods we always visited, pointing out the most interesting displays. We would end the evening in town wi

  In the spirit of the season, our youth held a friendly competition. They worked in teams to create a nativity scene. Each team had the large pieces from a gingerbread house kit as a starting point, but everything else was up to their collective creativity. There were tables providing a wide array of building supplies. There were a variety of breakfast cereals. Candy selections ranged from M&Ms to Twizzlers to Peeps. There was coconut shavings and icing and animal crackers. It was quite the spread. The room was filled with energy and laughter and much too much sugar. The teams raced against the clock to create their masterpiece. Then each nativity was placed on a table and numbered for inspection by the judge. While the group gathered for the evening devotional time, the hard work of evaluation and ranking was completed. It was a joyful night for all, youth and adults alike. The energy of creating, the camaraderie of working together and the joy of the season were a winning combin

  The frosty morning weather of a few days ago is now long past. As the sun rose yesterday, you could literally see the return of the unseasonably warm weather. Rolling in with the dark clouds came the warm, humid feel of Spring. The lights and decorations just don’t look the same to me when the weather is so warm. The music of the season sounds out of place to my ears. Things just don’t seem to fit together. But it came to me that, perhaps, such inconsistencies actually fit the story we are telling quite well. As I thought about it, there are many elements of the story that appear to not fit together so well. We believe God was at work in the world, yet the world of Mary and Joseph languished under the heavy boot of the Roman Empire. We believe that the baby born was King of Kings, yet he was laid in a feeding trough. Angels proclaim “Glory to God” and “Peace on earth”, yet soon the family flees as refugees to a foreign land to escape the wrath of a murderous King. We believe that thi

  When I was a boy, one of my favorite cartoon characters was Taz, the Tasmanian Devil. I loved the way he twirled around, a frantic train wreck of a creature. He wasn’t featured in too many episodes, so it was a treat when he made an appearance. My friends and I would call people “Taz” when their behavior was out of control. I must admit, in my mind I never associated Taz with the Christmas season. But as I enjoyed this display, and the trip down memory lane it inspired, I see the connection. This is about the time when we can easily lose ourselves in the whirlwind of the season. So much to do, so little time. So many people to please. So many expectations to meet. So many appointments on our calendars. All good things, all things we care about, but so many. We can feel like Taz, spinning through life like a tornado. The prophet Isaiah writes, “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on His shoulders. And He will be called Wonderful Counselor, Migh

  In the early morning, before the sun is up, I enjoy the quiet of the sanctuary. During the Advent season, I often turn on the Chrismon tree, leaving all the other lights off. The soft glow of its lights fill the space with warmth and a sense of peace. The white and gold ornaments that represent the many names of Jesus, the clear lights and the gold trim, all seem to me to reflect the beauty of the story we celebrate together when the space is filled with the energy and sounds of people of all ages. In a way, I enjoy a few moments of my own “silent night” before the activities of a Sunday morning begin. This simple act helps remind me of the meaning of the story we retell at this time, year after year, across the centuries. Somehow, in some inexplicable way, Jesus is Immanuel, God with us. Always with us. In the beauty and serenity of that early morning sanctuary, as well as in the beautiful chaos of the gathered family. In the warm embrace of love, and in the loneliness of isolatio

  Though it had been in the eighties a day or so before, the sun rose on a frosty field this Sunday morning. The weather had been erratic to say the least. Finally, on December 12th, holiday weather arrived. It was perfect timing for our congregation’s Christmas musical presentation. The sun quickly erased the frost, but the spirit of the day was set. The lights looked brighter and the music sounded even sweeter. Christmas sweaters were abundant and it actually felt like the time had come to be in preparation for the big day. It is interesting, is it not, the power of such a thing to change our attitude and experience. I suppose that is why, across the ages, we human creatures spend time looking for signs. Portents and omens. Cards and fortune tellers. Anything to give direction and confirmation. We want so much to know what is coming. We want so much to feel that things are as they should be. We want so much to know we are in the right place at the right time. Imagine the surprise of

  This week as I walked through the sanctuary at our church, I found it in that quiet stillness that exists before the energy and hum of a gathered crowd. And there is no crowd quite like the crowd that gathers for the preschool Christmas program. Parents and grandparents, big sisters and big brothers, all ready to watch their little stars sing and wave and recite the story of Mary and Joseph, shepherds, angels and the little baby Jesus. I have to admit that it is one of my favorite hours of the season. I find myself smiling and laughing all through the program. Some kids are in their element, performing as if they are on Broadway. Others are mortified, clearly wanting to be anywhere else but in front of that crowd. There, in the midst of the symbols of manger and tree, wreath and crèche, a wide range of human experience seems to unfold. Laughter and tears. Joy and sorrow. Anxiety and peace. Perhaps that is why I like this hour so much. As we sing in the carol, “the hopes and fears of

  These trees have lights. And then they have LIGHTS. Big, colorful lights that dominate the tree. I like this image. There is light, and then there is LIGHT. We read in the Gospel of John, “Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” Sometimes the light can seem awfully dim. The world can seem to be coming apart. Sometimes our life can feel like it is coming apart. We can feel hopeless and despairing. But the light always shines. Somehow, somewhere, through the power of God’s love, the light refuses to be extinguished. Somehow, somewhere, someone or something brings the light back into our darkness. A kind word. A touch. A song. A memory. The light can come in many different ways and in many different forms. But it is the same light shining in all and through all. We celebrate that light this season in the birth of Jesus. We celebrate that light each time we shine hope into the life of

  For some reason, it still seems strange to me this year that it is getting dark so early. When I see this type of sky before six o’clock, I feel like I have lost all track of time. I wonder where I may have lost a few hours as I worked. It certainly gives me pause. Time is a strange and precious gift. As we grow up, we wonder why time has to move so slowly. We have things to do and places to go that require us to be a certain age or attain a certain grade in school. Then we reach a place in life where we wonder where all the time has gone. We look in the mirror and hardly recognize the person looking back at us. We engage in some activity or task and find it surprisingly more difficult or challenging than before. But I am coming to realize that the most important time isn’t what lies behind in the past or what awaits in the future. The most important time is now. This time, this day, is the gift. The apostle writes, “In the time of my favor I heard you, and in the day of salvation I

Every year our community celebrates Christmas with the construction of a Santa’s Village and a tree lighting. At the center of the municipal complex is a beautiful fountain. It is an abstract sculpture of a circle of people sharing an embrace. It is always striking, but never more so than at this season. It is not just the festive decorations that surround it which make the difference; it is the message of the sculpture itself that seems to become more clear during the season of Christmas. The story of Jesus’ birth is a powerful story on so many levels. It is a mind boggling hope, isn’t it? Christians believe that in that birth, somehow the Creator became the creature, that God became a human. People have fought for centuries over all the details. The exact “how” of it is beyond our grasp, but that does not stop us from arguing about it. In fact, some argue so much that they miss the point of the story completely. The birth of Jesus is not a conundrum to be solved, but rather a gift to

  As the day moved quickly toward sunset, I happened to leave my office at the perfect moment to find the sun making its way through the clouds at just the right angle. Wherever the rays hit, the landscape literally glowed. The remaining colors on the trees seemed aflame. It was a lovely, brief moment of natures’s creative beauty come to life. I was grateful to happen by and to be able to take in short lived gift. Sometimes we would do well to keep our eyes open for such moments of beauty and blessing. How often have I missed such a gift because I was plowing ahead toward some big goal out on my horizon? What beauty has been mine to enjoy that went unseen because my eyes were down, lost in the chaos of life and work. It would only take a moment to look up. And who knows? Perhaps that moment would illuminate my life like the sun against the trees. The scriptures teach us to “Be still and know that I am God.” The Psalmists speaks of “lifting my eyes” to see help for times of trouble. Jes

  With all the variety of decorations and yard art that abounds in my neighborhood, there is one constant. In addition to individual creativity, the Neighborhood Association encourages each home to display these trees. They are simple. At night they glow warmly against the darkness. One tall. One short. An amazingly high percentage of homeowners comply with the request. In a simple way, these little trees serve as a thread that ties us all together. As different as we are, with all our uniqueness and individuality, we are connected through the lights of the trees. As the broader human community, we are living in a time when we need to be reminded of that connection with one another. In all our uniqueness and individuality, we desperately need each other. Being connected does not mean losing ourselves. Being connected means being our best selves, a part of something bigger than ourselves. Being connected means that we are not alone, and that no one else should be either. There are so ma

  With each passing day, the homes and yards of my neighborhood grow more and more full with signs of holiday cheer. Christmas decorations adorn the trees, the bushes, the lawns and the roofs of the houses. I almost missed this little guy who was settled in a bird bath in a little garden under a tree. I am almost certain I have seen him before, but I never noticed his apparel. After all, who really notices how a frog dresses? This frog is sporting his Santa coat as Christmas draws near. I will certainly pay more attention to such details from now on. My favorite author is Frederick Beuchner. He writes, “From the simplest lyric to the most complex novel, literature is asking us to pay attention. Pay attention to the frog. Pay attention to the west wind. Pay attention to the boy on the raft, the lady on the tower, the old man on the train. In sum, pay attention to the world and all that dwells therein and thereby learn at last to pay attention to yourself and all that dwells therein.” Th

  As I have documented over this past year and a half, I have enjoyed the wide variety of objects I have come across in my walks. The strip of lawn between the sidewalk and street holds many interesting discarded treasures as trash day draws near each week. Large items and small, broken down or almost new, one never knows what may be found there. As I turned on this particular block, I could see in a distance that someone had discarded a rug. When I arrived, I found the sight most curious. For some reason it made me think of the story, “101 Dalmatians”. The manner in which the tassels fell out of the rolled up carpet appeared as if twenty or so puppies were soundly sleeping in the safety of its cover. It made me smile. There are times when we can feel that kind of security and peace, and that makes us smile as well. The bills are paid, those with whom we are closest are safe and sound, the future looks bright. Most of us do not live in this place as a constant, but what a gift of peac