I can’t see them from where I am, but I know they’re out there. Out in the front yard. Little ones, big ones, looking in the windows. Staring. And standing perfectly still. I didn’t think it would happen to me. At least not so quickly. But sure enough, this morning they were out there, silent, menacing. And pink.

When they told me in seminary that I’d have a flock, I didn’t know that they were talking about flamingos. But sure enough, this morning when I took Maggie (the retriever, not the Scopel) out for her morning constitutional, we had a dozen or so flamingos on the lawn. I don’t know yet what I’m going to tell the homeowners’ association, because these are definitely outside the code.

I love being a part of a community that makes it fun and challenging, engaging to be a disciple. That really is the way it should be, because our God is ever-surprising, ever-inviting, ever-engaging.

Sometimes I worry that an emphasis on discipleship will make us grim and determined and serious. But then, of course, the In-Crowd traipses through your yard and your life with an armload of flamingos and puts things in perspective. (Actually, from what I understand, the source of the current vandalism is a couple of putative adults, one of whom was recently the DCE and now released from this burden has entered a second childhood. The other never actually left his first childhood.)

Now, Lord knows that some of the things we do and some of the things we face are serious. I’ve been in touch with the pastor from the church that I grew up in and he talked about the “care of souls” as being the job of the pastor. When he said that, I confess a little shiver went down my spine. But the truth is, that’s what being a disciple is really all about – caring for souls, your own and those of others.

Caring for souls, however, is best done with care and kindness, love and, yes, laughter. We are entering the season of Lent, a penitential season, swathed in purple and repentance. But we know that Lent ends with new life, resurrected from the grave, the life of Easter. So rejoice!

And buy the flamingo insurance.

Pastor Greg