Dec 25

Dec 25 To Be Loved, To Be Seen, To Be Heard

Today has been a weird Christmas Day. Not bad, just different and strange. I got to have a lovely Christmas morning with E. A. and the boys. We opened presents in our living room and listened to our holiday playlist. I got to see everyone’s faces light up at different gifts. I got to lay against my wife on the couch as she read and laughed as I played video games with one of my sons. Then I went to work at the hospital and I will be here until Boxing Day afternoon.

Yet I got to eat Christmas lunch in the cafeteria with my cohort as all of us worked full shifts today. We gathered in our normal circle in our CPE room and learned from each other like we do three times a week. It was my day to share my statement of ministry, which is our statement of what we think effective spiritual care is to each of us. I already knew that my statement delved too deep into the theological at the expense of the experiential. I wrote about Christ as our guiding example, about “God with us” and the ministry of presence, the Greek word kenosis and the way we approach serving others with humility.

All technically good practices but my educator asked me where I was in this process. It was a good example of what Christians should strive towards; it was a good general statement. Yet where did my story intersect with all of this?

Dec 17
Dec 17 Rejoice

Chris Cox

The first reading for the Third Sunday of Advent is Zephaniah 3:14-20 and this is a short story about why part of that verse always stops me in my tracks.

Taylor Swift once famously sang that when you’re fifteen and someone tells you they love you then you’re going to believe it. When I was fifteen, I was gangly, unsure of myself, and generally did not think that I mattered that much. I do not know how the conversation started that led to Zephaniah started, but I do know where it ended. One of the staff members at the camp my family ran (also that summer, a professional theater troupe; long story, different story) named Lauren encouraged me by reading this verse:

The Lord, your God, is in your midst,
a warrior who gives victory;
He will rejoice over you with gladness,
He will renew you in His love;
He will exult over you with loud singing
as on a day of festival.
—Zephaniah 3:17-18a

Nearly thirty years later, I distinctly remember hearing this verse for the first time. And it was probably the perfect time for me to hear it. A few years later, I probably would have waved it off because Christians way too often decontextualize passages meant for the people of Israel and make it about us feeling good. I wasn’t there yet, so Zephaniah stuck with me. I guess when you’re fifteen and someone tells you God loves you, you’re going to believe it. So, thank you for that, Lauren. Context or not, that verse always reminds me that God loves me.

Dec 14
Dec 14 Peace...Eventually

Chris Cox

Peace is the movement of Advent that often sounds the most hollow. Hope is an anticipation. Joy and Love are traces of which we receive many glimpses. I guess it is true that we might receive glimpses of peace as well. Yet I sometimes wonder if those glimpses are just respites born of privilege; a peace that comes from being fortunate to be born into a life not knowing hunger, war, or prejudice.

No justice! No peace! This was one of the cries in the Summer of 2020. Covid had locked all of us down which left us without distractions when the murders of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and others came across our newsfeeds. Tens of thousands donned masks and carried signs of protest. From bullhorns we heard it declared that none of us were free unless all of us were free. No justice, no peace. Summer 2020. Winter 1955. Advent 2024. Winter, spring, summer, and fall ad infinitum.

Peace is often the desire of a person who is sitting in a hospital room with their dying loved one. Typically they desire peace for the beloved with tubes connecting them to machines. They do not usually ask for peace for themselves. Folks will ask prayers for all kinds of miracles, but it seems that most know that being at peace with the loss of a loved one is a bridge too far. I am not even sure that most people would take that peace even if they could. It is true that time heals many things and the years may ease the sting of loss, yet there is no complete end to grief. Complete peace is just out of reach. Though the beautiful flipside of this reality is that no end to grief means that there is no end to love.

Dec 1

Dec 1 Hope

Chris Cox

This is the first Sunday of Advent and for many a church the theme of this day is hope. I have spent a good portion of the day thinking about hope. I think hope is often relegated to wishful thinking or starry eyed optimism. One hopes they can do well, hopes for the best, hopes that everything will work out. This hope can be dashed, lost, or given up. For hope to mean something in this world it has to sustain a barrage of blows. Hope has to be more than wishful thinking to survive.

Working in a hospital has made me realized all the more how tenuous our grasp on hope can be. Hope has to be fierce here. And even if that hope is undeterred by bad diagnoses, surgeries, and the ominous cacophony of life-sustaining machines, those hopes can still find themselves sometimes crashing into the cold reality that a loved one will not be okay. At least, not okay in the way we hope.

There is a song on Vampire Weekend’s latest album called “Hope.” I really like the song, but I wonder if I should. The plaintive refrain is “I hope you let it go / I hope you let it go / The enemy’s invincible / I hope you let it go.” Sometimes I hear those lyrics and it is a comfort to me. Other times it feels like it is just waving a white flag in the face of an unfair world.

Nov 6
Nov 6 Some Thoughts the Morning after Another Election

Chris Cox

One of the funny things about being a chaplain resident is that my life is very much intertwined with a piece of 1990s technology. If a member of a medical team wants to contact a chaplain about a patient—especially if it is an immediate concern—they page us. I will hear a chirpy beep, check the number, and call back to see how my assistance is needed.

My initial reaction to that pager was fear. Actually, my initial reaction was amusement. Then as I started my first shift on call, I was anxious. I did not know what was going to be on the other side of that chirpy beep. I just knew that it was not going to be easy and that was scary.

In a weird way, I have come to appreciate the pager because I am required to answer it. It’s my job. I cannot run and hide from it. If a chaplain is needed and I am on call then I have to dial that number. I have to show up in that hospital room to try to listen to the emotions and needs of that patient or family member whether I am ready or not, whether my last visit was deeply meaningful or horribly awkward. You get the page and you show up.

Sep 15

Sep 15 Taking Up Our Cross?

Chris Cox

Weekly Lectionary

“If any wish to come after me, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life?” - Mark 8:34b-36

This verse is one that is baked into my spiritual journey. If we are to truly follow Jesus then we must take up our crosses. We must be willing to lose our lives. I cannot tell you how many Sunday morning and youth group sermons I have heard about that topic. It was a verse that we remembered and printed on t-shirts. It was our calling.

And I’m not sure if any of us did it.

I am not second guessing the sincerity behind any of the people who have quoted that verse in earnestness (including yours truly), but those stakes do not really present themselves to a white, middle-class American kids. As much as martyrdom was a hot topic for late 90s evangelicals—I owned and regularly perused a copy of Jesus Freaks: Stories of Those Who Stood for Jesus myself—it wasn’t really on the table in South Carolina.

Sep 11

Sep 11 Joshua Tree

Chris Cox

Western Sketches

Have you ever been in a place so still that peace sinks down into your bones? That is one of my best attempts at describing Joshua Tree National Park. One evening late in our trip, the four of us traveled about a hour from our hotel to arrive at the park before sunset. Our sons were hesitant to go. They were tired and had just spent two days at Disneyland. How could rocks, trees, desert, and sky stand up to Disneyland?

It stood up pretty darn well.

We drove into the park and found an area to pull our car into. We piled out to see trails working their way towards these piles of rocks through brush and these trees-that-weren’t-really-trees with their branches bending in all sorts of Seussical directions. The boys and I scrambled up the rocks until we couldn’t go any higher. We rejoined EA on the ground and took in a land unlike any we’d seen. We took pictures. Then we found another way up the rocks and made our way to the top.

All the while, the setting sun painted the sky in shades of glowing orange, gold, and salmon pink on a canvas of steel blue. And we would just watch. For awhile, we sat on rocks high above the ground. Then we returned to the desert floor and we gazed at the rocks, trees, desert, and sky. My heart rate slows just thinking about that view.

Aug 29

Aug 29 A Very Late, Likely Inadequate Response to the Bullhorn Guy Who Said We Were Heading to Hell for Going to Disneyland

Chris Cox

Western Sketches

As we joined a throng of people walking from various Anaheim hotels to Disneyland, there was a guy with a sign and a bullhorn. He was…not preaching, but pontificating at every passerby; telling them that they did not need fairies, princesses, and heroes, they needed Jesus. By going to this land of imagination we were being an affront to God. And he informed us that we—hundreds of people he’d never met—were going to hell for partaking in what the Mouse had to offer that day. A few people snapped back at him and he snapped back.

Despite having a litany of reasons for why he was wrong, I didn’t say anything because I am a conflict-averse person and I can’t imagine a worse start for your kids’ day at Disneyland than their dad getting into a theological argument with a stranger when the park is just a few hundred feet away. I reminded our sons that his yelling and condemnation was not what our faith in Jesus was about. Then we went on to have a lovely day at the Happiest Place on Earth.

Yet over a month later, I wonder what I would have said to him had I stopped. Granted, the best means of communication would be a two-way dialogue although people who have a bullhorn are typically not interested in a conversation (which is a pity, because it is actually quite fun to have conversations with people while you are using a bullhorn).

Aug 20

Aug 20 Note to Self for the Next Time You Feel Low and Get "Anti-Hero" Stuck in Your Head

Chris Cox

My head was not in a good place this morning. It’s been a long couple of weeks with plenty of fires to put out. I am still a few weeks from beginning a chaplain residency and so I am by myself for large swaths of the day. Plus the start of the school year brings up a lot of emotions concerning what I used to do for a job. So I knew that I needed to go for a walk this morning.

You know what else doesn’t help? Taylor Swift. Not her specifically, but her song “Anti-Hero.” When you are feeling down and lonely, the last thing that you need stuck in your head is a catchy chorus that repeats, “It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me.” It’s not great for someone who is very quick to get down on himself. Really, I need Taylor Swift to write a world-conquering pop song where the chorus goes, “This is just a season and I’m trying the best that I can.” That would be helpful.

For about half a mile, this walk is not helping at all. I’ve got this three second loop of a song stuck in my head and I’m marinating in this stew of self-loathing. Somewhere around Bicentennial Park, I said, “God, I could really use some friggin’ help right now” (and, yes, I did say “friggin’” because I am the human embodiment of a movie edited for TBS).

Aug 18

Aug 18 Wise Donkey

Chris Cox

Weekly Lectionary

God, as the Divine appears in this passage with Solomon, definitely has a genie/riddle-giving wizard vibe. Obviously whomever wrote Kings did not intend it that way, but that is how I read it. God appears to Solomon in a dream and asks what the king wants.

The TL;DR version (though you ought to read it) has Solomon asking for the wisdom to govern and the ability to discern between good and evil. God responds that since the king asked for this instead of long life, wealth, or the deaths of his enemies that Solomon would be granted wisdom plus the riches and glory. And if Solomon actually utilizes that wisdom then God will grant him long life.

So I have been mulling on wisdom today, which is a super pretentious thing to write. And I kind of hesitate even writing about wisdom because claiming to have wisdom is usually a surefire way to show how lacking one is in that department. So disclaimer: I am sometimes an idiot but these are my thoughts.