“Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it?” –Isa. 43:19

 Lots of excitement this week in Lake Woebegone. School has started. There were loads of new pencils, backpacks, water bottles, erasers, books, notepads, and calculators making their debut. New outfits were laid out by moms and worn with pride by freshly scrubbed students with new haircuts. New teachers were waiting to greet them in new and different classrooms. Newness was everywhere. For some, the thought of actually changing classrooms for every subject was a totally new and welcomed concept. What an adventure!

 It takes a very strong spirit or a totally low-key personality to not experience some sort of first day jitters or an early morning visit by the ghost of premonition. One of our students awoke early and insisted on calling Mrs. Garzony, his new first grade teacher, to confess that he had forgotten everything he had learned in kindergarten. One mom had to deal with a profound theological question as her son asked if Adam and Eve had never sinned would there still be school? Another 6 yr. old student spent much of that first morning in the bathroom in an attempt to calm all the butterflies he was experiencing. 

For many, there was lots of joy bouncing around the halls as old friends came into view. It was a lot of fun simply to observe these reunions and the renewal of common bonds. Others were plainly eager to delve into the whole new River’s Edge experience leaving behind memories of bullying or public school worldliness. Some were looking forward to making new friendships after some years of relative, home-school solitude but yet a little scared at the prospect of bridging the gap to the unknown. 

I, too, was faced with many unknowns as new classes began in new places on new schedules with many new teachers. And it is always a source of fascination as this complicated apparatus called River’s Edge stirs back to life after a summer of quiet. Would it cough, chug, or even misfire as it stirred itself into motion? Fortunately, I was able to marvel at how all the planning and preparation had paid off as it sprang into action like a well oiled machine, humming with strength and speed. The sight and sound of it is infectious.

 New beginnings are exciting. And our God is the God of new beginnings. At the core of this is a very liberating thought and message that stirs us toward the future and frees us from the past. Indeed, if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away…. For those of us raised in the Christian West, it is not a terribly new idea. But for those mired in the swamp of Eastern religion, it can be revolutionary. Hindu teaching binds all present beings to the deeds of previous generations. The suffering we encounter in this life is simply a result of bad karma from a former life. If we fall victim to a crippling disease, it is our just fate and punishment for previous sins. And to help someone under the bondage of such affliction would be to interfere with cosmic justice. Roman stoicism was just as crippling in teaching that one was obliged to suffer whatever nature and fate sent his way. Whole civilizations were hindered in the process.

 The message of the gospel is that one can be born anew and start over regardless of the sins of the past; both ours and those of our parents. In fact, each day our God promises that we can be washed anew from the stains of yesterday however serious those stains may be. It should be a cause for great rejoicing and bring hope for our future both short term and long. No one need remain captive to the chains of sin and guilt. We only err when we undervalue the importance and power of this liberation of all liberations or when we presume upon it thereby trampling it underfoot as something terribly common; something that is owed to us. May we not lean to either of the two extremes of either forgetfulness or presumption. And may you find your new beginning this year as intoxicating as ever. Rejoice! His mercies are indeed new every morning!

 Mercy and Truth, Mr. Moe