Hopefully during this month, you’ll be able to connect with family and friends. This might be part of your vacation plans or simply mailing a postcard. For the electronically-inclined, these acts of “connectivity” also may include e-mail, Skype (video calls), Facebook, Twitter,
and other outlets.

The question of connectedness is a growing spiritual issue. I ask you to consider the following pluses and minuses.

Plus: Technology can link us with family and friends over vast distances, allowing us to exchange thoughts, photos, and updates more
frequently than an annual letter.

Minus: Technology creates distance between people, through the gap between those who use it and those who choose not to (or don’t have the resources), and in the loss of personal contact (substituting text for face-to-face conversations).

Plus: Our experience of the world is much richer through e-mails, videosharing, and Google connecting us with people and places across the globe.

Minus: Our understanding of the world is diminished because we encounter other cultures in less depth (sound-bite news stories) and through more haphazard (at times, unreliable) information sources.

Plus: Our spiritual lives are strengthened by the Internet when it allows us to keep in touch with a range of people, facilitate our prayer concerns being heard quickly by friends, and making available a variety of online devotional and church material right at our fingertips.

Minus: Our spiritual lives are diminished by the Internet with its demand of staying electronically connected 24/7, its blurring of “office hours” and “offhours,” and the “busyness” that undermines true Sabbath rest for the soul.

Hear Paul’s words of encouragement: “In Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away. Everything has become new! All this is from God, who is reconciled with us through Christ and has given us the ministry of reconciliation” (2 Corinthians 5:17). Remember this: Connectivity with Christ should precede all other connections. Newness of life is first spiritual, and then technological. To walk in nature, to breathe deeply, to hug a friend is a form of prayer. So this month, be people of prayer in a world of both natural and
technological wonders.

Consider these two short biographies:
1: Born in 1830, she was the daughter of a strict Calvinist father. Had a shy disposition and frail health, but was a talented writer, musician and gardener. Apart from one trip to Washington, D.C. and Philadelphia, she did not travel much beyond her home in Amherst, Mass. By her late 20s, she lived in almost complete seclusion, only speaking to most visitors from behind slightly-open doors. Less than a dozen of her poems were published during her lifetime. Died of kidney disease in 1886, at the age of 55.

2: Born in 1874 and died in 1963, at the age of 88. One marriage, six children. Fairly poor when young. Involved in farming and, later, teaching jobs in various schools. Not much traveling until late in his life; he mostly resided in New England. Said Joseph Brodsky: “If biography accounts for poetry, this one should have resulted in none.”

What qualifies as a good life? We often put a lot of emphasis on the height, breadth, and length of a person’s life. We list off their accomplishments in résumés and obituary notices, telling of the heights they conquered through perseverance and hard work. We describe the far-reaching influences of people through noting the breadth of lives they touched in a wide range of settings. We celebrate the longevity of their lives, especially when the length exceeds 70 or 80 years. Those are all admirable traits and are well worth noting. However, a fourth dimension is lacking in the above summary. A good life is usually one marked by an exceptional depth. Depth in life may be hard to measure, but, like good art, you know it when you encounter it. It involves a grounded spirit and a trustworthy character. It involves a willingness to commit for the long haul, to see things through to the end. It’s similar to a swimming hole in which it’s safe to dive in deeply, a beloved spot in which waves and turbulence are rarely present. It’s a personal interior, rich in treasures and wisdom from whose storehouse others benefit by receiving advice, counsel, and inspiration.

Depth can be found in people who never travel very far in their lives, who never gain widespread fame or ascend to peaks of popularity in the world’s eyes. It’s primarily a spiritual quality. It’s most commonly found in people at peace with themselves and with others, people active in prayer and quick to say “Thank You,” and people committed to leaving the world a bit better for their having walked upon this earth for a brief span of time. To aspire to lead a life of depth is a holy and a precious thing.

By the way, the biographies summarized above are of the American poets Emily Dickinson and Robert Frost. After her death, a trove of over 1,700 poems was found in Dickinson’s trunks, securing her place as a preeminent American poet. Frost, the only poet to win four Pulitzer Prizes, harvested from his quiet New England life a rich array of verse that still inspires and touches lives today. Lives of depth, indeed.

“Earth’s the right place for love: I don’t know where it’s likely to go better.”
– Birches, by Robert Frost
“Who has not found the heaven below will fail of it above.”
– Emily Dickinson
“God’s residence is next to mine, His furniture is love.”
– Emily Dickinson

Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others. Let the same mind be in you that was also in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 2:4,5)

If we’re to take all of these poems seriously, then let us seek to lead lives of depth.

How should we pray to God? Should we pray humbly (Lord, if it’s not too much, I just want to ask… ) or passionately (Great God, with all my heart please give me wisdom to do what is right and strength to avoid what is wrong… .)? Should we use formal language (Almighty and most merciful Father, from whom cometh every good and perfect gift… ), making sure we are as comprehensive as possible (Having offered words of praise and confession, I shall now present my prayers of intercession and supplication… )? Or, the $100 question, is it possible to pray “wrong?”

At its heart, prayer is a conversation that includes silence, trust, and hope. It’s not so much an act of talking to God as it’s an opening up of ourselves to God, not a public speaking recitation. Think of it more like entering a room where God is seated, or taking a walk beside Christ, or breathing in a deep, cleansing breath that includes the Holy Spirit. Think of it as a posture out of which words, thoughts, and concerns are humbly given voice.

Praying to God also involves silence, as we reflect on our words and create a space in which God can respond—through insights; inner peace; and yes, words we hear as we continue on through our day. Praying involves trust—the deep sense that we’re not alone and that the One who accompanies us truly wants what is best for us. The formula is this: Sincere prayer plus a spirit of trust always adds up to an attitude of persistent hope.

I don’t know if you can ever pray “wrong.” I know I’ve prayed for the wrong reasons; and at times I’ve prayed out of feelings of distraction, confusion, or obligation. There’ve even been prayers offered out of panic, usually involving a maliciously uncooperative home computer! However, God does not wait to listen to us until we can pray “right.” God is near, knows our needs before we ask, and is ever anxious to respond.

Prayer is also a discipline. So I wouldn’t worry that your prayer is being done poorly; rather find regular times to practice the art of praying and you’ll see how soon concerns about doing it “wrong” are invariably misplaced.

I’ll close with some quotes from prayers composed by animals (thanks to the creativity of poet Carmen Bernos de Gasztold). I appreciate their honesty and their simple wisdom. May they help enrich your own prayer life.

“A little patience, O God, I am coming.”—Prayer of the Tortoise

“Lord, I who see the world from above find it hard to get used to its pettiness.” – Prayer of the Giraffe

“Dear God, give me time. People are always so driven!”—Prayer of the Ox

“Lord, you try for a little while to walk on one foot carrying Your whole heaven on Your back.”—Prayer of the Snail

“Oh! What a worry! All these chicks to cherish and protect—can’t shut an eye even for a moment!”—Prayer of the Mother Hen

“Lord! Where was I? Oh yes! This flower, this sun, thank You! Your world is beautiful!… Where was I? Oh yes! Lord, I had something to tell You: Amen.” —Prayer of the Butterfly

If you’ll pardon the pun, I’ll begin with a grim tale from the Brothers’ Grimm. Once upon a time, a man and his wife were sitting on their porch with a roast chicken before them that they were about to eat. Then the man saw his old father coming along, so he quickly hid the chicken in the house, for he begrudged him any of it. The old man came, had a drink, and went away. Now the son was about to put the roast chicken back on the table, but when he reached for it, it had turned into a big toad that jumped in his face and stayed there and wouldn’t go away. If anybody tried to disturb it, it would give them a poisonous look, as if about to jump in their faces, so that no one dared touch it. The ungrateful son had to feed the toad every day, otherwise it chewed on his face. Thus, the son went ceaselessly hither and yon about in the world. (Story retold in “The Gift” by Lewis Hyde.)

The folk tale was told as a way to illustrate how gifts are meant to remain in motion. We receive from the generosity of others and are blessed by passing on to others out of a similar, generous spirit. But by hoarding goods, by refusing to share the bounty we have received, it’s as if “toads” of greed and dumb-lust have made a home in our midst.

Many cultures have quite elaborate rituals associated with gift-giving. It can range from Kula gifts of shells and necklaces passed around between chieftains in Western Pacific islands to the gifts presented by Presidents and Prime Ministers when they visit other heads of state. It usually extends beyond reciprocal giving, quid pro quo, in which only two people benefit from the exchange. Ideally it’s a wide circle in which a gift (or things shared in a spirit of generous gift-giving) move through many hands and multiple recipients.

A stronger version of this idea comes from the American Indians of the North American coast, who celebrates “potlatches.” They are feasts lasting several days given by a member of the tribe for the benefit of the whole tribe. The Haida Indians call their potlatches a ceremony for “killing wealth,” as items of value are freely given away, burnt, and “consumed,” meaning that they move from one hand to another with no assurance of getting anything in return.

In a consumer society built upon possession and accumulating wealth, there’s much we can learn from these descriptions of “gift-giving” cultures. As a faith society, there are many ways to build upon these ideas. There’s a “stewardship lesson” in that our lives are meant to be spent as “cheerful givers” and that involves both the actual act of generous sharing as well as the spiritual practice of trusting God to provide for our needs.

There’s also a “Pentecost lesson” in all this. For on that church “birthing-day” long ago, the people received something from God that could not be hoarded or possessed. It had to be shared. It literally sent them out into the streets, despite the risks involved in telling the gospel of Christ to a community that only recently had put Jesus to death. It moved them to talk and share and give away all they had held dear (not just possessions, but their very safety and social standing) for the sake of this transformative, generous gospel of Christ.

See how, by God’s grace, you can change the dominant metaphor of your life from one of calculating possessions to generous gift-giving. Discover, with the Spirit’s prodding, how your spheres of influence, friendship and joy will expand in ever-widening circles of grace.

The Easter message is clear and unequivocal. Those who saw the empty tomb and were witnesses to the resurrection of Jesus, were told to go and tell others.

Matthew 28:10 – “Do not be afraid; go and tell [the others] to go to Galilee; there they will see me.”

Mark 16:7 – “Go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee.”

Luke 24:9 – “They remembered his words, and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest.”

John 20:17 – “Go and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.'”

Our Easter worship services are modern re-enactments of that first resurrection commissioning. We announce, “Christ is Risen! He is risen indeed!” We re-tell the story and sing triumphant hymns. We share communion, allowing God’s Spirit to feed us and send us out to proclaim the gospel in the world. It’s a day of joy, a day of hope, a day of both tradition and newness of life.

Easter Sunday is a perfect time to invite people to join us–people feeling depressed or troubled, those seeking hope and the assurance of God’s victory over injustice, suffering and death. Yet Easter is often a “family reunion” service, mostly attended by people who’re already part of the church, while Christmas Eve is a service in which it’s easier to invite non-members and friends. Why is that?

Christmas offers comforting images that have been secularized by society. It’s a story about a family and the birth of a child, all wrapped up with carols and candlelight designed to evoke memories from our own childhood. The Easter story has largely resisted secularization. Despite the commercial symbols of Easter bunnies and colored eggs, the Easter story speaks about life and death, about injustice and triumph over evil. The baby born in the manger is now a resurrected Savior, who emerges from the tombs and looks each of us in the eyes as if to say, “The world’s order has been changed forever. Will you walk with me now as people of the Easter good news?”

The uniqueness of Jesus’ resurrection does not mean that it’s a story only to be told among ourselves. Dr. Cynthia Campbell stressed in her book “A Multitude of Blessings,” the fullness of Christian faith affirms both the universal extent of God’s love and the particular confession that it is through Jesus Christ this love is fully known and experienced. The uniqueness of the Easter story makes the Christian faith compelling and life-renewing. God is at work in people and places beyond our imagining with “a wideness in God’s mercy, like the wideness of the sea.”

For people wounded or disappointed by other churches, inviting them to join you for Easter can begin a healing conversation in their lives. For people who are uncomfortable imagining themselves in a church pew on Sundays, sharing in a story that is too big for mere words, yet too persistent to be easily dismissed, can prompt an honest reflection about the nature of God in our world. For people of other faiths or of no faith, words of conviction spoken about a love stronger than death does not diminish how God is active in other places, other traditions, and in other stories. It’s by sharing what we believe with integrity and humility that we enter into conversations that allow us to hear others’ stories.

There is too much hope, joy and new life contained in the Easter message for it to be limited to “members only” gatherings. Throw wide the doors! Extend forth the invitation! Resurrection begins now, let all the world rejoice!