Monday, July 27, 2020

#183 Playoffs!

Baseball is back! (Well, at least it is when I'm writing this on Monday evening. I've been seeing reports of quite a few postive test results from Miami, so we'll see if this lasts.) In the  time leading up to baseball's return, I saw some murmurs on the internet that this season's champion wouldn't be legitimate because of the shortened season. (I've seen similar arguments leveled at the NBA's return. I would imagine that the NHL has these grumblings as well.) Some people are up in arms that the best team might not win because we'll lose 102 games (at least) that help separate the better teams from worse teams.

To these people I say: I'm not sure you understand the point of playoffs. Major American sports have playoffs so that the best team doesn't always win. We like it that way. If we wanted the best time to win every year, we'd skip the playoffs and just hand the trophy to the team with the best record at the end of the season. Sports actually used to work that way. We, the sports-loving people of America, decided we weren't crazy about that. So we instituted playoffs. Maybe the most talented team won't win the World Series this year. Good! (Side note: I don't think my beloved Brewers have ever been the most talented team in baseball [with the possible exception of 1982], so I'm all for giving other teams a chance.) If there were no upsets, we wouldn't watch sports. The regular season schedules are designed to be about as fair as they can be. Everybody plays the same number of games. If you want to be champion, you've got to win. Don't come crying to me about being more talented if you lose. Go out there and prove it on the field!

And as always, go Brewers!

Grace and peace,
BMH

P.S. Now if you want to complain about MLB expanding the playoffs this year, that's a different matter. I don't like that, but we don't have time for that right now….

Monday, July 20, 2020

#182 Seven Years

Tess and I have been married for seven years today. (I think the proper response is to congratulate me and tell Tess how sorry you are for her.) A lot has happened in the past seven years. About a month into marriage we truly moved out on our own and started our own home in Grand Rapids, MI. I started seminary. Tess got her first "real" full-time job. Tess got a different job. We spent a summer interning in Washington. I finished seminary. We moved to Iowa so I could begin my first "real" full-time job. We had a baby. We had another baby. With the possible exception of some time in between Lanie's birth and Mia's birth, we've been in a pretty constant state of transition.

But let me tell you, the past seven years have been wonderful. I don't think even a single day has gone by in this stretch that hasn't been made better because Tess is in my life. The bad days aren't as bad as they could be, and the good days are even better than they would be if I was alone. Without Tess I don't know how I would've made it through all those transitions. Even this year seems unimaginable without Tess. After Mia was born I didn't feel like I was truly able to relax until Tess and I were together again in Des Moines. For the past few months COVID-19 has reconfigured my work life—changing the way our worship services work, limiting my ability to visit church members, putting much of my volunteering on hold—but Tess has been with me through it all. She's listened. She's encouraged. She's supported. Being the only pastor at a church can be a very lonely job, but every day I come home and I'm no longer alone.

Long story short, if we somehow went back time, I would marry Tess again in a heartbeat. After seven years, I'm excited to see what's yet to come.



Grace and peace,
BMH

Monday, July 13, 2020

#181 He Did All This for You, Little One

Yesterday Mia Grace Hofman was baptized. Since I am an ordained minister, I had the incredible privilege of administering the sacrament (or, in less official church language, I did the baptizing). I love the sacraments. In my Christian tradition, we have two: baptism and the Lord's Supper. We believe that God confirms His promises to us through the sacraments. He nourishes and strengthens our faith by making His grace visible and tangible through the water of baptism and the bread and cup of the Lord's Supper.

One of the things baptism symbolizes is our new life in Christ Jesus. We are saved because Jesus unites us to Himself in His death and resurrection. Going under and coming back out of the water points to our dying and rising with Christ. Baptism challenges us to respond (and really demands our response) to God's grace by turning from our old, sinful, selfish life and following Jesus in a new, holy, loving life. In a very real sense, we no longer live; Christ lives in us. But we only respond to God's actions. We can't earn our new life, our salvation. This is entirely a gift of God. When it comes to saving ourselves we are helpless. In my tradition, we baptize the babies of Christian parents, which reminds us that our salvation is completely God's work. As our liturgy beautifully says, "[Dear child], for you Jesus came into the world. For you He died and conquered death. He did all this for you, little one, though you know nothing of it yet. We love because He first loved us." God saves us because He loves us. He did everything necessary to save us long before we can even begin to realize we need saving. He decided to save us before we were even born. Seeing a small and fragile baby be marked as God's child and welcomed into Christ's church reminds us all that we are helpless without Jesus, that we have become God's children only because of God's grace. He did it for us.


Grace and peace,
BMH

Monday, July 6, 2020

#180 Misery

In my branch of Christianity we have a statement of faith called the Heidelberg Catechism. It's a series of (generally) short questions and answers that covers a lot of the basics of what we believe. I really love the second question and answer. (I'd like to tell you Q&A 2 is my favorite, but that's Q&A 1, which says that our only comfort in life and in death is belonging body and soul to our faithful Savior Jesus Christ. That's everybody's favorite. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.)

The catechism asks, "What must you know to live and die in the joy of this comfort?" Then it answers, "Three things: first, how great my sin and misery are; second, how I am set free from all my sins and misery; third, how I am to thank God for such deliverance."

That first part can seem like it's coming out of left field. To have comfort and joy, I must know how great my sin and misery are, and you must know how great your sin and misery are. How does that add up? We don't like to focus on sin or misery. It's one thing to know that the world is miserable—creation is broken and often harsh, society is twisted and corrupt. It's often easy for us to know that other people are sinful—human beings are fallen and inclined toward all sorts of evil. But knowing those things isn't really enough. If I am truly going to believe the good news of Jesus Christ and receive life and peace in Him, I need to understand how sinful and miserable I am. (And the same goes for you, too.) I am wicked and self-destructive. I sin again and again and again, and on my own I can't stop, no matter how hard I try. (And to be honest, left to my own devices I don't try that hard or for all that long.) My sins deserve death. I face troubles and sorrows and disasters that I can't escape under my own power. Understanding my sin and misery properly sends me running to Christ Jesus, the only one who can rescue me. Understanding my sin and misery properly helps me truly understand God's grace in delivering me. Understanding my sin and misery apart from Christ makes me truly want to thank Him by living a transformed life with His help and His power. One of the amazing things about our God is that He can make misery a good thing by using misery to lead us to Him and His salvation. There's some comfort for you.

Grace and peace,
BMH