Monday, June 3, 2013
Why Cowgirl Jazz?
I haven't been too attentive to my blog for a couple years. I read a comment someone made of how disappointed they were with me because I didn't list any great jazz artists or really have anything to do with jazz or cowgirls in my blog. For someone who is really into jazz music and a cowgirl that would be disappointing. So why did I name this blog "Cowgirl Jazz?"
One because I was a cowgirl as a girl and will always be a cowgirl at heart. Indeed I do love the western culture. Professionally I'm called to move around a lot, so having a horse or any pet is not in my lifestyle. But who knows about the future.
Two, why jazz? I love ALL music and I do love jazz but not specifically just jazz music. I think life is jazz. Life naturally is attracted to organizing itself. How life organizes is not in an orderly, predictable way. Life's way of organizing and arranging is messy. Life uses the rules but mixes them up because life will use whatever means and ways to organize. Life does not have order in it's order and yet it is attracted to order. That is how I hear jazz. Jazz the music. Jazz the art. Jazz the life. God is like jazz. God loves, but not how we command God to love. God loves and it can look and feel messy, just like life, yet it all works out. It all works out into orderly creation. Out of chaos came order. From nothing came creation. God is like Jazz. Life is like Jazz. I love God. I love life. I love jazz. Hence, I am cowgirl jazz.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Yes God, I submit!
When I was a kid we brought treats to share in class on our birthday. One of my classmates was born on April Fool’s Day and he took full advantage of this fact. One year he had us put our heads down, close our eyes and hold out our hands. Then he proceeded to place worms in our hands. April Fools! They were Gummy Worms!
When I think about the discipline of submission and I am reminded of how much life with God can feel like one big April Fool’s Day, filled with counter-cultural thoughts and practices. When I realized I was still called to ordained ministry and would have to re-start a process I’d ended in 2000 to finish the Master of Divinity degree, I thought it was a joke. “OK God, but the only way I’m gonna re-apply is if the Minneapolis Synod knocks on my door and asks me.” Fat chance of that happening, right? Wrong. I preached my first sermon back at leading worship at Spirit Garage and it was the only Sunday the bishop’s assistant responsible for ordained candidates ever attended Spirit Garage. Her words to me were, “Would you be interested in becoming a pastor? I’d love to meet with you. Next week work?” Yes Lord, I submit.
Then I challenged my call again by saying there is no way my file still existed in my former synod for a candidacy transfer. If they were shredded, I would not apply again. My call to Southwest MN Synod said the files had been shredded. Then a few hours later the phone rang. The administrator had gone down into storage and happened to find a random box hidden in the corner she had never noticed before. What was in the box? You guessed it, every file, application and record from my five years of candidacy with the SWMN Synod. Yes Lord, I submit.
I’ve heard submission described as: the freedom from the need to “Have it your way.” If I had it my way, I’d never grow through the challenges of life or stretch myself to see what I am truly capable of. My way would build a wall to keep out struggle but such a wall would keep out the good, the benefits, and the connections that come with a discipline of open-heartedness, the essence of submission.
The definition of “ego” I use is that of “edging God out.” When we get in the way of our greater good by focusing on our fear and not the expansion of love, humility, and fun that comes with submission we are like the child who keeps her eyes shut thinking she has a worm in her hand and never tastes the yummy sweetness of a silly treat. Submission is not easy. Submission is listening for the God voice in a world that buzzes with resistance. Over the years I’ve found submitting to that voice of God calms the resistance. I like to say fear is just fun in disguise. When I submit and surrender that fear I open my heart to, yes I’m going to say it, fun! Be a fool for God. Submit.
When I think about the discipline of submission and I am reminded of how much life with God can feel like one big April Fool’s Day, filled with counter-cultural thoughts and practices. When I realized I was still called to ordained ministry and would have to re-start a process I’d ended in 2000 to finish the Master of Divinity degree, I thought it was a joke. “OK God, but the only way I’m gonna re-apply is if the Minneapolis Synod knocks on my door and asks me.” Fat chance of that happening, right? Wrong. I preached my first sermon back at leading worship at Spirit Garage and it was the only Sunday the bishop’s assistant responsible for ordained candidates ever attended Spirit Garage. Her words to me were, “Would you be interested in becoming a pastor? I’d love to meet with you. Next week work?” Yes Lord, I submit.
Then I challenged my call again by saying there is no way my file still existed in my former synod for a candidacy transfer. If they were shredded, I would not apply again. My call to Southwest MN Synod said the files had been shredded. Then a few hours later the phone rang. The administrator had gone down into storage and happened to find a random box hidden in the corner she had never noticed before. What was in the box? You guessed it, every file, application and record from my five years of candidacy with the SWMN Synod. Yes Lord, I submit.
I’ve heard submission described as: the freedom from the need to “Have it your way.” If I had it my way, I’d never grow through the challenges of life or stretch myself to see what I am truly capable of. My way would build a wall to keep out struggle but such a wall would keep out the good, the benefits, and the connections that come with a discipline of open-heartedness, the essence of submission.
The definition of “ego” I use is that of “edging God out.” When we get in the way of our greater good by focusing on our fear and not the expansion of love, humility, and fun that comes with submission we are like the child who keeps her eyes shut thinking she has a worm in her hand and never tastes the yummy sweetness of a silly treat. Submission is not easy. Submission is listening for the God voice in a world that buzzes with resistance. Over the years I’ve found submitting to that voice of God calms the resistance. I like to say fear is just fun in disguise. When I submit and surrender that fear I open my heart to, yes I’m going to say it, fun! Be a fool for God. Submit.
Friday, December 3, 2010
An Advent Sermon - What do you Expect?
Isaiah 2:1-5
Matthew 24:36-44
A couple years ago the Washington Post decided to do an experiment. They placed hidden cameras in the D.C. metro station during the morning rush hour. For 43 minutes one of the nation’s greatest violinist performed six classical pieces while 1,097 people passed by. Joshua Bell had just played a concert the night before where the cheap seats had sold for $100. However, only seven people stopped what they were doing to hang around and take in the performance at least for a minute. Twenty-seven gave money while on the run for a total of $32 and change. That leaves 1,070 people who hurried, oblivious to the event. There is a video on you-tube of the experiment set in fast motion. It is eerie how people rush by, yet Joshua Bell’s movements remain fluid and graceful. The Washington post wrote, “You think he is a ghost. Then you see it: He is the one who is real. They are the ghosts.”
The conclusion of the experiment was that people don’t recognize beauty if they haven’t been trained to see it. Do we recognize God where we haven’t been trained to see God? Where is God that you don’t expect God to be? When have we been like ghosts in a God moment?
I was raised in the church. I remember having children’s Bible stories read to me, going to Boys & Girls Fellowship on Sunday nights, singing in the church choir, acting in the Carpenter’s Tools drama group, and going to Bible camp. I grew up a church geek. I’ve been trained well to find God where I’m supposed to find God.
We live in an age of information overload where compartmentalizing life is a basic form of survival. Nonetheless, with the new age of social networking, our work and family and school and social lives are co-mingling. The lines are blurring. God is not just a church thing. God has blurred the lines for centuries. God does not compartmentalize well. God is not where God is supposed to be when we expect God to be there. God is not what we expect more often than what we expect. Where is God that you don’t expect God to be? Would we even know how to recognize those moments?
FILM CLIP – Stethoscope
Today begins the church’s New Year. It is Advent which is four weeks of traveling forward, a season of anticipation and expectation. What do you expect? Or maybe what do you not expect? The text this morning tells us to keep awake, be alert. That Christ comes again like a thief in the night and we do not know the hour or the time. This is not a call to insomnia, but to spiritual awakening. Jesus is telling this to a community of sleepy people, caught up in the mundane routines of life and unaware of the extraordinary in the ordinary. Sleepy people no longer believe that anything will change, that today and tomorrow look exactly the same and so they sleepwalk through their lives.
Meister Eckhart was a German theologian, philosopher and mystic in the 14th century who said, “What good is it if Mary was full of grace unless I am full of grace? And what good is it if Christ was born a long time ago, if he is not born in me, in my time, and in my culture?” This Advent season Spirit Garage is expecting Christ to be born in our hearts, our time, and our culture. We are expecting a God that rarely comes the way that we predict. No one expected a teenaged single mom would bear God? Who expected the kicks in her belly would inspire dreams of no more hunger, the lifting of the lowly and not learning war any more. Where is God kicking about in and among you? Where have you found God that you didn’t expect God to be?
Sadly, it sometimes takes monumental moments to wake us up. Think of 9/11 and how many people were awakened to the preciousness of life, to the shortness of time and the urgency of the moment. Our scripture today is saying, don’t get caught up in the ho-hum in life that it takes a tragedy to wake you up. Don’t get so caught up in the business-as-usual of life that you get robbed of life’s simple beauty and pleasures.
Theologian David Bartlett writes, “One day Jesus may appear in the clouds, suddenly, like a thief in the night. But before that – as [the book of] Matthew reminds us – Jesus will appear just around the corner, suddenly, like a hungry person, or a neighbor ill-clothed, or someone sick or imprisoned.” Matthew 25 tells us how we can encounter Jesus everyday in every person we speak to. 35For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, 36 I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.
Think of it, where is God that you don’t expect God to be? The hallmark of grace is that it is unexpected. Witness or participate in unexpected grace and mercy and you will see God where you least expected. God lives in those places we don’t want to go. Are there places or future circumstances that are so filled with unknowns and frightening possibilities that you just can’t go there? Consider putting your stethoscope in those places and you could hear mercy, forgiveness, reconciliation, love, joy, gratitude, justice, hope, beauty, and creative energy there because they are the character of our God who is living there and everywhere already. So step out with hope into the unknowns of our financially struggling, war torn, weary world with eyes wide-open & awake for God. Your pace may slow down and you may feel more real than a ghost in life. You may notice beauty where you once walked by. You may recognize hope where you only saw trouble. You may create an entirely new life from the rubble of who you once were. That’s God-stuff for you. It blurs the lines of our neat compartments and like a world-class musician panning for dollars in a subway, may surprise us when we least expect.
Matthew 24:36-44
A couple years ago the Washington Post decided to do an experiment. They placed hidden cameras in the D.C. metro station during the morning rush hour. For 43 minutes one of the nation’s greatest violinist performed six classical pieces while 1,097 people passed by. Joshua Bell had just played a concert the night before where the cheap seats had sold for $100. However, only seven people stopped what they were doing to hang around and take in the performance at least for a minute. Twenty-seven gave money while on the run for a total of $32 and change. That leaves 1,070 people who hurried, oblivious to the event. There is a video on you-tube of the experiment set in fast motion. It is eerie how people rush by, yet Joshua Bell’s movements remain fluid and graceful. The Washington post wrote, “You think he is a ghost. Then you see it: He is the one who is real. They are the ghosts.”
The conclusion of the experiment was that people don’t recognize beauty if they haven’t been trained to see it. Do we recognize God where we haven’t been trained to see God? Where is God that you don’t expect God to be? When have we been like ghosts in a God moment?
I was raised in the church. I remember having children’s Bible stories read to me, going to Boys & Girls Fellowship on Sunday nights, singing in the church choir, acting in the Carpenter’s Tools drama group, and going to Bible camp. I grew up a church geek. I’ve been trained well to find God where I’m supposed to find God.
We live in an age of information overload where compartmentalizing life is a basic form of survival. Nonetheless, with the new age of social networking, our work and family and school and social lives are co-mingling. The lines are blurring. God is not just a church thing. God has blurred the lines for centuries. God does not compartmentalize well. God is not where God is supposed to be when we expect God to be there. God is not what we expect more often than what we expect. Where is God that you don’t expect God to be? Would we even know how to recognize those moments?
FILM CLIP – Stethoscope
Today begins the church’s New Year. It is Advent which is four weeks of traveling forward, a season of anticipation and expectation. What do you expect? Or maybe what do you not expect? The text this morning tells us to keep awake, be alert. That Christ comes again like a thief in the night and we do not know the hour or the time. This is not a call to insomnia, but to spiritual awakening. Jesus is telling this to a community of sleepy people, caught up in the mundane routines of life and unaware of the extraordinary in the ordinary. Sleepy people no longer believe that anything will change, that today and tomorrow look exactly the same and so they sleepwalk through their lives.
Meister Eckhart was a German theologian, philosopher and mystic in the 14th century who said, “What good is it if Mary was full of grace unless I am full of grace? And what good is it if Christ was born a long time ago, if he is not born in me, in my time, and in my culture?” This Advent season Spirit Garage is expecting Christ to be born in our hearts, our time, and our culture. We are expecting a God that rarely comes the way that we predict. No one expected a teenaged single mom would bear God? Who expected the kicks in her belly would inspire dreams of no more hunger, the lifting of the lowly and not learning war any more. Where is God kicking about in and among you? Where have you found God that you didn’t expect God to be?
Sadly, it sometimes takes monumental moments to wake us up. Think of 9/11 and how many people were awakened to the preciousness of life, to the shortness of time and the urgency of the moment. Our scripture today is saying, don’t get caught up in the ho-hum in life that it takes a tragedy to wake you up. Don’t get so caught up in the business-as-usual of life that you get robbed of life’s simple beauty and pleasures.
Theologian David Bartlett writes, “One day Jesus may appear in the clouds, suddenly, like a thief in the night. But before that – as [the book of] Matthew reminds us – Jesus will appear just around the corner, suddenly, like a hungry person, or a neighbor ill-clothed, or someone sick or imprisoned.” Matthew 25 tells us how we can encounter Jesus everyday in every person we speak to. 35For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, 36 I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.
Think of it, where is God that you don’t expect God to be? The hallmark of grace is that it is unexpected. Witness or participate in unexpected grace and mercy and you will see God where you least expected. God lives in those places we don’t want to go. Are there places or future circumstances that are so filled with unknowns and frightening possibilities that you just can’t go there? Consider putting your stethoscope in those places and you could hear mercy, forgiveness, reconciliation, love, joy, gratitude, justice, hope, beauty, and creative energy there because they are the character of our God who is living there and everywhere already. So step out with hope into the unknowns of our financially struggling, war torn, weary world with eyes wide-open & awake for God. Your pace may slow down and you may feel more real than a ghost in life. You may notice beauty where you once walked by. You may recognize hope where you only saw trouble. You may create an entirely new life from the rubble of who you once were. That’s God-stuff for you. It blurs the lines of our neat compartments and like a world-class musician panning for dollars in a subway, may surprise us when we least expect.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
A Question of Life after Death
This is a message given when I filled in for a vacationing pastor of Luke 20:27-38. Jesus is confronted with a riddle of one woman who had 7 husbands. He is asked who will be her husband in the resurrection. It's a question about is there really life after death.
I teased your pastor that she must have looked at today’s text and decided it was a good weekend to take vacation. This is what you call a “tough text.” As a seminary student, I’m familiar with debating questions of life after death and resurrection. Yet it is a far different experience trying to explain or understand such concepts when one is experiencing the emotional gravity and painful isolation of grief. What do you say when a child asks, “Where is mommy now? Will I ever see her again?” That is the moment smart theories lose their zeal and your gut aches with the true mystery of God and God’s plans for us.
Death can suck the faith right out of you. Maybe that is one reason we live in such denial of the topic. We try so hard to keep its reality from touching us. We have people die in hospitals, we have funeral homes to deal with the bodies for us, we pay money to make our dead look like they were alive, some of us keep our children from funerals, and for some the subject of death is a forbidden conversation. We are appalled by death, hide from it, or just plain ignore it until it comes knocking on our doors. Yet, when we receive news of a terminal diagnosis or experience the death of someone very significant, we can’t get enough information about death and have a voracious desire to ask the deep questions of life after death. We long to know if the one’s we have lost, if we ourselves will continue on or if death is final. We long to end the deep isolation and fear that our grief evokes. What happens next is a hope-filled mystery.
In today’s text, Jesus is in Jerusalem and is on his way to the cross. Every time he speaks, someone is out to trick him and find something to charge him with. And so he encounters the Sadducees.
Sadducees only followed the first five books of the Bible; they rejected the idea of resurrection, an afterlife, angels and other principalities because they were not mentioned in those books. The Pharisees on the other hand regarded the first five books, the prophets’ writings, wisdom literature, and oral tradition all to be valid scripture, most of what we study today. The Sadducees were wealthy, upper crust socialites who were in alignment with the Roman government and only served the temple in Jerusalem. They faded away after the temple was destroyed.
Their question to Jesus is intended to prove how ludicrous and irrational the concept of a resurrection is. Yet Jesus points out a radical thought, that what happens next is not a continuation of life as we know it. The Sadducees take life as we experience it now and project it into life after death. It’s a popular mistake. Think of all the images of heaven you’ve been exposed to. Heaven is imagined as some kind of wonderful theme park where everything is as it is now – only perfect. Everyone is happy, healthy, wealthy and wise – life is a continuous afternoon on a Caribbean beach where you can eat all the ice cream you want and always look perfect. Heaven is the “better place” where every soul is “better off.” Likewise, Hell is imagined as the worst moment of this life continuously played out.
However, what happens next is a hope-filled mystery. When Jesus says there is no marriage in the resurrection, Jesus is explaining that the resurrection is a new creation. At that time, women were the property of their husband with the job of producing an heir, so a family lived on. Jesus is letting us know that in the resurrection we experience a complete revolution of relationships where we will no longer relate to one another in roles of power versus powerlessness, no more divisions, no more death, no more pain but an entirely new experience of life.
The reality is there is no complete description of heaven or resurrection life in the Bible. Clearly any descriptions would require human ability to understand. Trying to understand heaven is like explaining an iPhone to a 1st century Sadducee. So here lie the dilemma, we naturally think about the future in a way that is somehow based on our experience, past and present. This future, the kingdom come, is not based on anything we’ve known. What happens next is a hope-filled mystery.
Resurrection is a tough concept to comprehend. Maybe that is why the idea of immortality of the soul seems easier to digest than resurrection of the body. Immortality of the soul was a Greek concept taught by Socrates and Plato in which the soul is good and lives eternally but the body is bad and is discarded in death. This is not a Christian concept. Resurrection of the body is what Jesus taught. Resurrection is not some sort of resuscitation of more of the same. This body we have hurts. It has pain. It needs to eat to survive. It has biological drives. This body fails you. This body needs to die. This body will return to dust and ash, whether naturally or speeded up by cremation. Resurrection is not a continuation of this life. Resurrection is not carrying on of a family line. There is a physical resurrection, but not a fleshly resuscitation. I will not have THIS body again.
This is not an easy thing to grasp, especially since most of us try to avoid the topic of death and the afterlife. However, what happens next is a hope-filled mystery. Jesus is a resurrected body and we also will be a resurrected person. Only the living can experience that which lives; only the living can encounter the “Living God.” God is God of the living. So we are alive, will be alive in God, will not just be floating spirits, but truly alive.
But we’re not dead yet, so how do we live as truly alive as we possibly can in this life? We take this knowledge of a hope-filled mystery, concerning resurrection and life after death, and transform our living now. God’s new life breaks into our here and now. Where is God at work in your life today? God is doing new things now and with resurrection eyes we are empowered to recognize such hope today. In the Lord’s Prayer we pray, “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done here on earth as in heaven.” We are the hands and feet of that kingdom. We are the children of God now and that means we are being called and sent in this present moment to create spiritual community, share in relationships of love, show compassion, and basically bring heaven to earth now. What we do now matters.
Our belief in the resurrection is based upon a relationship of faith we have with God as creator, redeemer, and Spirit. I know that my redeemer lives. We have been given the companionship of the Holy Spirit to guide and orient us in the dizziness of death and grief. God has a plan that includes life after death. We know because the Spirit is present with us illuminating our senses to the dark mysteries of what comes next. We can trust God in these questions. God is God of the living, so knowing what happens next is a hope-filled mystery we shout the words of Paul “Oh Death where is your Sting? Oh grave where is your victory?” (1 Corinthians 15:55)
I teased your pastor that she must have looked at today’s text and decided it was a good weekend to take vacation. This is what you call a “tough text.” As a seminary student, I’m familiar with debating questions of life after death and resurrection. Yet it is a far different experience trying to explain or understand such concepts when one is experiencing the emotional gravity and painful isolation of grief. What do you say when a child asks, “Where is mommy now? Will I ever see her again?” That is the moment smart theories lose their zeal and your gut aches with the true mystery of God and God’s plans for us.
Death can suck the faith right out of you. Maybe that is one reason we live in such denial of the topic. We try so hard to keep its reality from touching us. We have people die in hospitals, we have funeral homes to deal with the bodies for us, we pay money to make our dead look like they were alive, some of us keep our children from funerals, and for some the subject of death is a forbidden conversation. We are appalled by death, hide from it, or just plain ignore it until it comes knocking on our doors. Yet, when we receive news of a terminal diagnosis or experience the death of someone very significant, we can’t get enough information about death and have a voracious desire to ask the deep questions of life after death. We long to know if the one’s we have lost, if we ourselves will continue on or if death is final. We long to end the deep isolation and fear that our grief evokes. What happens next is a hope-filled mystery.
In today’s text, Jesus is in Jerusalem and is on his way to the cross. Every time he speaks, someone is out to trick him and find something to charge him with. And so he encounters the Sadducees.
Sadducees only followed the first five books of the Bible; they rejected the idea of resurrection, an afterlife, angels and other principalities because they were not mentioned in those books. The Pharisees on the other hand regarded the first five books, the prophets’ writings, wisdom literature, and oral tradition all to be valid scripture, most of what we study today. The Sadducees were wealthy, upper crust socialites who were in alignment with the Roman government and only served the temple in Jerusalem. They faded away after the temple was destroyed.
Their question to Jesus is intended to prove how ludicrous and irrational the concept of a resurrection is. Yet Jesus points out a radical thought, that what happens next is not a continuation of life as we know it. The Sadducees take life as we experience it now and project it into life after death. It’s a popular mistake. Think of all the images of heaven you’ve been exposed to. Heaven is imagined as some kind of wonderful theme park where everything is as it is now – only perfect. Everyone is happy, healthy, wealthy and wise – life is a continuous afternoon on a Caribbean beach where you can eat all the ice cream you want and always look perfect. Heaven is the “better place” where every soul is “better off.” Likewise, Hell is imagined as the worst moment of this life continuously played out.
However, what happens next is a hope-filled mystery. When Jesus says there is no marriage in the resurrection, Jesus is explaining that the resurrection is a new creation. At that time, women were the property of their husband with the job of producing an heir, so a family lived on. Jesus is letting us know that in the resurrection we experience a complete revolution of relationships where we will no longer relate to one another in roles of power versus powerlessness, no more divisions, no more death, no more pain but an entirely new experience of life.
The reality is there is no complete description of heaven or resurrection life in the Bible. Clearly any descriptions would require human ability to understand. Trying to understand heaven is like explaining an iPhone to a 1st century Sadducee. So here lie the dilemma, we naturally think about the future in a way that is somehow based on our experience, past and present. This future, the kingdom come, is not based on anything we’ve known. What happens next is a hope-filled mystery.
Resurrection is a tough concept to comprehend. Maybe that is why the idea of immortality of the soul seems easier to digest than resurrection of the body. Immortality of the soul was a Greek concept taught by Socrates and Plato in which the soul is good and lives eternally but the body is bad and is discarded in death. This is not a Christian concept. Resurrection of the body is what Jesus taught. Resurrection is not some sort of resuscitation of more of the same. This body we have hurts. It has pain. It needs to eat to survive. It has biological drives. This body fails you. This body needs to die. This body will return to dust and ash, whether naturally or speeded up by cremation. Resurrection is not a continuation of this life. Resurrection is not carrying on of a family line. There is a physical resurrection, but not a fleshly resuscitation. I will not have THIS body again.
This is not an easy thing to grasp, especially since most of us try to avoid the topic of death and the afterlife. However, what happens next is a hope-filled mystery. Jesus is a resurrected body and we also will be a resurrected person. Only the living can experience that which lives; only the living can encounter the “Living God.” God is God of the living. So we are alive, will be alive in God, will not just be floating spirits, but truly alive.
But we’re not dead yet, so how do we live as truly alive as we possibly can in this life? We take this knowledge of a hope-filled mystery, concerning resurrection and life after death, and transform our living now. God’s new life breaks into our here and now. Where is God at work in your life today? God is doing new things now and with resurrection eyes we are empowered to recognize such hope today. In the Lord’s Prayer we pray, “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done here on earth as in heaven.” We are the hands and feet of that kingdom. We are the children of God now and that means we are being called and sent in this present moment to create spiritual community, share in relationships of love, show compassion, and basically bring heaven to earth now. What we do now matters.
Our belief in the resurrection is based upon a relationship of faith we have with God as creator, redeemer, and Spirit. I know that my redeemer lives. We have been given the companionship of the Holy Spirit to guide and orient us in the dizziness of death and grief. God has a plan that includes life after death. We know because the Spirit is present with us illuminating our senses to the dark mysteries of what comes next. We can trust God in these questions. God is God of the living, so knowing what happens next is a hope-filled mystery we shout the words of Paul “Oh Death where is your Sting? Oh grave where is your victory?” (1 Corinthians 15:55)
Did Jesus Wear Pink and Purple?
This is a sermon I gave while filling in for a vacationing pastor. It is based on Luke 18:9-14.
This past Wednesday I and many of my friends wore pink or purple shirts to recognize National Bullying Prevention Day. Over 160,000 kids stay home from school in a single day because of bullies. Often the bullying goes unreported and is perpetuated by the stigma associated with seeking help. In many cases bullying can lead to suicide. There have already been 5 suicides due to bullying in the Minneapolis-Anoka school district this year, three associated with Gay/Lesbian/Bisexual/Transgender ridicule. The point of wearing a specific colored shirt was to promote prevention and start conversation so that we can put a stop to bullying of ALL people in ALL places: kids and adults, schools and workplaces, to create a community of acceptance. Why one color was pink is due to two high school seniors in Nova Scotia in 2007 who stood up for a fellow male freshman student who was being bullied on the first day of school for wearing a pink shirt. The boys heard about it, bought a bunch of pink shirts, handed them out and texted their friends to wear pink. The next day, nearly the entire student body was wearing pink. They told their community that bullying was not okay. Likewise there is a viral video movement in the cause of suicide prevention called the “It Gets Better Project”. Countless videos online of famous and not so famous people sharing their stories of feeling left out, being bullied, and the pain of not fitting anyone’s mold concluding with the message that “It Gets Better”. In addition, viewers are asked to take the pledge: Everyone deserves to be respected for who they are. I pledge to spread this message to my friends, family and neighbors. I'll speak up against hate and intolerance whenever I see it, at school and at work. I'll provide hope for lesbian, gay, bi, trans and other bullied teens by letting them know that "It Gets Better."
God loves in spite of who we think we are. Deep down, many of us carry a thought “I’m not good enough.” We think we don’t hit the mark; we are haunted by past failure and somehow guilty. The message of humility first gleaned from today’s text can be misunderstood to mean feeling bad about yourself is spiritual. Maybe the church has stressed human sinfulness so much we’ve missed stressing human godlikeness, leaving some people seeking other spiritual communities to heal their pain.
The Trappist monk, Thomas Merton, said, “Humility is being precisely the person you actually are in the presence of God.” That means focusing on God’s presence and who we are in that presence, not on behaving a certain way to earn heavenly kudos. A way to be in the presence of God is to pray. Prayer brings us closer to God and one another. It is a means of restoring the image of God in us. Prayer is the first wireless network of communication connecting us with God, each other and revealing a significant amount about our relationship with God and others.
Prayer is the one activity the Pharisee and the tax collector share in common this morning. The tax collector prayed at a distance not even looking up, in a posture of grief, asking for mercy. He does so with the possibility of drawing closer to God. The Pharisee prays standing above in a posture of being turned into oneself, or self-focused. His is a prayer of thanksgiving. He is thankful that he is good and not like other people. His righteous life-style is his salvation; he is a spiritual bully making sure” the other” knows he’s better.
Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.” One of the common issues Jesus addressed in his ministry was that of how we build our sense of value, our sense of worth. In the story of the Pharisee and the tax collector, the Pharisee tries to prove his goodness by recounting what a great guy he is. He’s never been to prison, never murdered anyone, and been honest in his business, never cheated on his wife, provided for his kids, gone to church every week, prayed every day. To prove his point he brings up how thankful he is not to be like others who cheat on their wives, rip off the system, drink too much, make easy money. Thank God I am not like that tax collector. I give away a tenth of all I earn and I make it honestly. I contribute to my community.
However good the things the Pharisee can account for himself, he does not go home justified by God. To be justified is to be in right relationship and cleared of all transgressions. It is God’s grace toward the undeserving. Many of us carry dark secrets, addictions, failures, “if onlys”, regrets and none of us are as self sufficient and reputable as we would like others to think. And making others feel bad about themselves won’t help our self-worth either. God loves us in spite of who we think we are.
I must admit I’m a rule-follower and over-achiever, not unlike the Pharisee. Sometimes I get upset with God because I think life should hold less struggles and more rewards for being good. But bad things happen to good people and “bad people” can seem to face fewer trials. So I struggle with Jesus’ words that the tax collector, who is not a likeable fellow, goes justified and the Pharisee does not. Jesus’ audience would have figured his story’s punch-line would have been that both were justified, not that the Pharisee was left out. But this isn’t the first time Jesus told a story like that. Remember the older brother in the story of the Prodigal Son who is upset about being a good son and never having a party thrown for him. Why does the bad brother get justification and I don’t? This is troublesome, for it means that God’s justification is not based on what we do to earn it. We can’t manipulate God to bless us, love us, and work for our benefit. We can’t control God. God is a wild force that justifies in spite of our life-style, prayers, appearance, acceptability, and likeableness. Dr. Fred Craddock comments on this text with:
The Pharisee is not a venomous villain and the publican is not generous Joe the bartender or Goldie the good-hearted hooker. Such portrayals belong in cheap novels. If the Pharisee is pictured as a villain and the tax collector as a hero, then each gets what he deserves, there is no surprise of grace and the parable is robbed. In Jesus’ story, what both receive is “in spite of,” not “because of.”
God loves us in spite of who we think we are. Whatever we think separates us from God is no more. Whatever we have done that makes us think we are unworthy doesn’t count. Whatever it is we think makes us no good is taken care of. Jesus’ death on the cross says to each one of us “you are so valuable, you are somebody, and you are set free from the wounding of your mind to be the wonderful, unique creature that you are.”
And so, I challenge you to take this knowledge of your blessedness and justification in spite of what you think you are to go live life in that knowledge. Living in that knowledge, you cannot stand for bullying of any kind. This is not about approving another’s choices or life experience or even liking the person being bullied. This is about being humane, living out your godlikeness, living out our relationship with God and each other. Jesus might have worn pink. He definitely saw the beautiful child of God that lives in both bully and bullied. Let us each strive to share the good news that we are each worth it and called to treat each other as though we stood in the presence of God 24/7.
This past Wednesday I and many of my friends wore pink or purple shirts to recognize National Bullying Prevention Day. Over 160,000 kids stay home from school in a single day because of bullies. Often the bullying goes unreported and is perpetuated by the stigma associated with seeking help. In many cases bullying can lead to suicide. There have already been 5 suicides due to bullying in the Minneapolis-Anoka school district this year, three associated with Gay/Lesbian/Bisexual/Transgender ridicule. The point of wearing a specific colored shirt was to promote prevention and start conversation so that we can put a stop to bullying of ALL people in ALL places: kids and adults, schools and workplaces, to create a community of acceptance. Why one color was pink is due to two high school seniors in Nova Scotia in 2007 who stood up for a fellow male freshman student who was being bullied on the first day of school for wearing a pink shirt. The boys heard about it, bought a bunch of pink shirts, handed them out and texted their friends to wear pink. The next day, nearly the entire student body was wearing pink. They told their community that bullying was not okay. Likewise there is a viral video movement in the cause of suicide prevention called the “It Gets Better Project”. Countless videos online of famous and not so famous people sharing their stories of feeling left out, being bullied, and the pain of not fitting anyone’s mold concluding with the message that “It Gets Better”. In addition, viewers are asked to take the pledge: Everyone deserves to be respected for who they are. I pledge to spread this message to my friends, family and neighbors. I'll speak up against hate and intolerance whenever I see it, at school and at work. I'll provide hope for lesbian, gay, bi, trans and other bullied teens by letting them know that "It Gets Better."
God loves in spite of who we think we are. Deep down, many of us carry a thought “I’m not good enough.” We think we don’t hit the mark; we are haunted by past failure and somehow guilty. The message of humility first gleaned from today’s text can be misunderstood to mean feeling bad about yourself is spiritual. Maybe the church has stressed human sinfulness so much we’ve missed stressing human godlikeness, leaving some people seeking other spiritual communities to heal their pain.
The Trappist monk, Thomas Merton, said, “Humility is being precisely the person you actually are in the presence of God.” That means focusing on God’s presence and who we are in that presence, not on behaving a certain way to earn heavenly kudos. A way to be in the presence of God is to pray. Prayer brings us closer to God and one another. It is a means of restoring the image of God in us. Prayer is the first wireless network of communication connecting us with God, each other and revealing a significant amount about our relationship with God and others.
Prayer is the one activity the Pharisee and the tax collector share in common this morning. The tax collector prayed at a distance not even looking up, in a posture of grief, asking for mercy. He does so with the possibility of drawing closer to God. The Pharisee prays standing above in a posture of being turned into oneself, or self-focused. His is a prayer of thanksgiving. He is thankful that he is good and not like other people. His righteous life-style is his salvation; he is a spiritual bully making sure” the other” knows he’s better.
Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.” One of the common issues Jesus addressed in his ministry was that of how we build our sense of value, our sense of worth. In the story of the Pharisee and the tax collector, the Pharisee tries to prove his goodness by recounting what a great guy he is. He’s never been to prison, never murdered anyone, and been honest in his business, never cheated on his wife, provided for his kids, gone to church every week, prayed every day. To prove his point he brings up how thankful he is not to be like others who cheat on their wives, rip off the system, drink too much, make easy money. Thank God I am not like that tax collector. I give away a tenth of all I earn and I make it honestly. I contribute to my community.
However good the things the Pharisee can account for himself, he does not go home justified by God. To be justified is to be in right relationship and cleared of all transgressions. It is God’s grace toward the undeserving. Many of us carry dark secrets, addictions, failures, “if onlys”, regrets and none of us are as self sufficient and reputable as we would like others to think. And making others feel bad about themselves won’t help our self-worth either. God loves us in spite of who we think we are.
I must admit I’m a rule-follower and over-achiever, not unlike the Pharisee. Sometimes I get upset with God because I think life should hold less struggles and more rewards for being good. But bad things happen to good people and “bad people” can seem to face fewer trials. So I struggle with Jesus’ words that the tax collector, who is not a likeable fellow, goes justified and the Pharisee does not. Jesus’ audience would have figured his story’s punch-line would have been that both were justified, not that the Pharisee was left out. But this isn’t the first time Jesus told a story like that. Remember the older brother in the story of the Prodigal Son who is upset about being a good son and never having a party thrown for him. Why does the bad brother get justification and I don’t? This is troublesome, for it means that God’s justification is not based on what we do to earn it. We can’t manipulate God to bless us, love us, and work for our benefit. We can’t control God. God is a wild force that justifies in spite of our life-style, prayers, appearance, acceptability, and likeableness. Dr. Fred Craddock comments on this text with:
The Pharisee is not a venomous villain and the publican is not generous Joe the bartender or Goldie the good-hearted hooker. Such portrayals belong in cheap novels. If the Pharisee is pictured as a villain and the tax collector as a hero, then each gets what he deserves, there is no surprise of grace and the parable is robbed. In Jesus’ story, what both receive is “in spite of,” not “because of.”
God loves us in spite of who we think we are. Whatever we think separates us from God is no more. Whatever we have done that makes us think we are unworthy doesn’t count. Whatever it is we think makes us no good is taken care of. Jesus’ death on the cross says to each one of us “you are so valuable, you are somebody, and you are set free from the wounding of your mind to be the wonderful, unique creature that you are.”
And so, I challenge you to take this knowledge of your blessedness and justification in spite of what you think you are to go live life in that knowledge. Living in that knowledge, you cannot stand for bullying of any kind. This is not about approving another’s choices or life experience or even liking the person being bullied. This is about being humane, living out your godlikeness, living out our relationship with God and each other. Jesus might have worn pink. He definitely saw the beautiful child of God that lives in both bully and bullied. Let us each strive to share the good news that we are each worth it and called to treat each other as though we stood in the presence of God 24/7.
Friday, October 8, 2010
What do you tote?
Recently I've experienced a sore shoulder and neck. One reason is the weight of my purse. A Chicago Tribune article showed these results when 48 purses were weighed on August 24 outside Tribune Tower.
* 6 lbs. average bag weight
* 5 participants complaining of back pain
* 8 lbs. heaviest single purse without laptop
* 20.4 lbs. heaviest total load
* 2.9 lbs. lightest single purse
* 9 women claiming to have just cleaned out their purse
Why do I carry all my cards, coupons, 4 shades of lipstick, and those just in case items like a swiss army knife? It's time to lighten my load and keep it simple.
This physical example of bearing unnecessary weight, just in case you need it, applies to the metaphysical as well. What beliefs, stories we tell ourselves, bear down on us unnecessarily? What pain to you tote on your shoulders like a backpack of security? Is it the pain of your divorce keeping you from committing to a new relationship? Is it the fear of past failure slowing your pace toward new adventures? Is it the judgment you received in one religious community holding you back from exploring a new spiritual community?
Consider lightening up your life. Start with the physical - clean out your purse, desk, house and simplify. Then, motivated by this physical environment ease into the deeper emotional and spiritual burdens that weigh down your shoulders and back. Begin with a few simple questions and go from there:
What do I want?
What do I need?
What do I believe?
What can I change?
* 6 lbs. average bag weight
* 5 participants complaining of back pain
* 8 lbs. heaviest single purse without laptop
* 20.4 lbs. heaviest total load
* 2.9 lbs. lightest single purse
* 9 women claiming to have just cleaned out their purse
Why do I carry all my cards, coupons, 4 shades of lipstick, and those just in case items like a swiss army knife? It's time to lighten my load and keep it simple.
This physical example of bearing unnecessary weight, just in case you need it, applies to the metaphysical as well. What beliefs, stories we tell ourselves, bear down on us unnecessarily? What pain to you tote on your shoulders like a backpack of security? Is it the pain of your divorce keeping you from committing to a new relationship? Is it the fear of past failure slowing your pace toward new adventures? Is it the judgment you received in one religious community holding you back from exploring a new spiritual community?
Consider lightening up your life. Start with the physical - clean out your purse, desk, house and simplify. Then, motivated by this physical environment ease into the deeper emotional and spiritual burdens that weigh down your shoulders and back. Begin with a few simple questions and go from there:
What do I want?
What do I need?
What do I believe?
What can I change?
Sunday, August 29, 2010
There's an app for that!
I will not keep silent; I will speak out in the anguish of my spirit. I will complain in the bitterness of my soul. Job 7:11 (NIV)
Ten years ago these were the words of my mouth as much as they were Job's. I had experienced a deep disappointment and my soul ached with bitterness. I remember reading the Psalms as if I had never read them before. Whenever a psalm used the phrase "my enemies," I would replace it with the names of those who had hurt me and received a certain cathartic delight. It was the beginning of a healing process that I am deeply thankful for. Yet I often wonder if the journey might have been easier. Nonetheless most experiences into the depths of suffering and pain call for the courage to speak your grief, acknowledge your place as one with a larger creation - a God's eye view of life, and to be forever changed by the experience.
The Scriptures tell the story of God's relationship with creation and humanities' relationship with God. Complaining and being upset is a difficult aspect of relationships, especially when it comes to knowing how to express one's grief without harming others in the process. Scripture has "an app for that." The Hebrew people were not afraid to voice their complaints to the LORD about the problems of evil and suffering. Their verbal expression of grief make up a large body of literature in the Bible including parts of Job, Habakkuk, lament Psalms, Lamentation (the only book named after an emotion) and much of Jeremiah.
To apply this app to life, let’s begin with Job. Job complained bitterly to God about his suffering. He lost everything, his family, status, wealth, and all means of security and identity in one day. Then he was plagued by a horrific skin disease that left him living in a trash heap. His wife told him to curse God and die. His “comforters” told him it was his own fault. Yet Job would not accept their conclusions. He persisted in his innocence and begged God for a chance to present his case before God. Job got his opportunity, but quickly had nothing to say as God presented a series of rhetorical questions. In these divine speeches, Job realizes he cannot condemn God to justify himself. That he is just one among the many creations that delight our creator and that such a creator has given order to the chaos that is. God restores twice what Job lost and this time Job sees his life from God’s perspective finding delight in what he has, worrying less about keeping everything under control.
The text this morning is from the beginning of Job’s journey into suffering. Job was a man who tried to do the right thing. When his children threw a party, he would pray and make sacrifices for them, just in case they did or said anything that might offend the LORD. Job didn’t like messy. But life gets messy. A healthy pregnancy and birth can end with Sudden Infant Death, a waitress who never smoked a day in her life can die of lung cancer because of second-hand smoke from the job that had sustained her for 30 years, an honor student and promising athlete can be killed in a car accident the day before starting college. We know the messiness; some of us are living in it right now.
These are the moments we realize how little control we have over so much that damages our society and ourselves. These are the moments when God seems silent. St. John of the Cross referred to days of doubt and estrangement from God as “the dark night of the soul.” Henri Nouwen called them “the ministry of absence.” A. W. Tozer called them “the ministry of the night.” Others refer to “the winter of the heart.” These are the terms of deep spiritual transformation that are often instigated by the tragedy and absurdity of life events. Grief, rage, anger and fear flash to the surface of our consciousness. Where do we go with these feelings? How do we express them? Who will listen when we speak? Where is the app for this?
The value of Biblical laments becomes priceless in these moments. A lament is a cry to God with our doubts and our complaints against God. They give us the freedom and permission to be honest about our suffering and allow us to descend into the depths that is necessary before healing can occur. Both spiritual and psychological counseling traditions recognize that speaking our complaints creates a context for surrender. Surrender – the turning of our heart over to God, asking for mercy, and receiving God’s terms for restoration is impossible without battle. To put it simply, it is inconceivable to surrender to God unless we have first declared war against him. A lament is a battle cry against God that paradoxically voices a heart of desire and faith in his goodness.
Hear the battle cry of Job: “I can’t be quiet! I am angry and bitter. I have to speak.” Such words involve deep emotion. To speak your doubt and despair is truly asking, seeking, and knocking to comprehend the heart of God. Praying our grief is a passion to ask. A lament uses language of pain, anger and confusion and moves toward God. It is not mere whining.
Lament speaks the language of the shadow side of faith. The person who hears your lament is someone you deeply and wildly trust. Lament reveals the raw nerve of trust. It cuts through insincerity. You don’t lament to someone who could fire you or threaten a cherished relationship. You don’t trust them. You don’t believe they would endure the depths of your disappointment and confusion. You admit your complaint against God because deep down you believe and have faith in God’s faithfulness, grace, and mercy. By trusting God with our dark side, we share our deepest hurts and disappointments. We know that God won’t give up on us.
The apostle John wrote that when our heart condemns us, God is greater than our hearts and knows all things, and so we can quiet our hearts. In the book of Revelation the Lord says repeatedly to the churches: “I know” – where you live; your poverty, your tribulation, the slander you have to endure. In the Greek Bible, God is called the kardiognostes, the heart-knower.
The great heart-knower has suffered the depths of life’s tragedies. Whatever messes afflict and grieve us to the core of our being, God has seen it, known it, and taken it into God’s own life in Jesus who was crucified, who died, descended into hell, and was raised on the third day. The Old Testament is not the only place we find permission to speak our pain and bitterness for the New Testament bears the cry of God in anguish, doubt, and search. “My God, My God why have you forsaken me?” The cross is the place for every human experience of hell on earth. God knows this; God has been there, and as a consequence we know that God can be trusted.
Mary Oliver in her poem “At Black River” writes: Then I remember, death comes before the rolling away of the stone. Our pain, sadness, and tragedies are often personal teachers that open us to fearless honesty. Like Job, we find a voice to speak our grief. In the depths of our despair the dark soil is laid for the growth of joy and healing. In doubt we live out our deepest expressions of faith. In our battle cry against God we seek truth as we have never done before. Our pain initiates a search, our anger clarifies the demand for relief, and our confusion opens our heart to change. Here we are transformed and truly known. If you are in the darkness of stone yet to be rolled away – there’s an app for that. Speak your bitterness and anger to the great heart-knower.
I close in prayer from Hymn 703 (ELW) “O God, Why Are Your Silent” by Marty Haugen:
May pain draw forth compassion, let wisdom rise from loss;
oh, take my heart and fashion the image of your cross;
then may I know your healing through healing that I share,
your grace and love revealing, your tenderness and care.
Ten years ago these were the words of my mouth as much as they were Job's. I had experienced a deep disappointment and my soul ached with bitterness. I remember reading the Psalms as if I had never read them before. Whenever a psalm used the phrase "my enemies," I would replace it with the names of those who had hurt me and received a certain cathartic delight. It was the beginning of a healing process that I am deeply thankful for. Yet I often wonder if the journey might have been easier. Nonetheless most experiences into the depths of suffering and pain call for the courage to speak your grief, acknowledge your place as one with a larger creation - a God's eye view of life, and to be forever changed by the experience.
The Scriptures tell the story of God's relationship with creation and humanities' relationship with God. Complaining and being upset is a difficult aspect of relationships, especially when it comes to knowing how to express one's grief without harming others in the process. Scripture has "an app for that." The Hebrew people were not afraid to voice their complaints to the LORD about the problems of evil and suffering. Their verbal expression of grief make up a large body of literature in the Bible including parts of Job, Habakkuk, lament Psalms, Lamentation (the only book named after an emotion) and much of Jeremiah.
To apply this app to life, let’s begin with Job. Job complained bitterly to God about his suffering. He lost everything, his family, status, wealth, and all means of security and identity in one day. Then he was plagued by a horrific skin disease that left him living in a trash heap. His wife told him to curse God and die. His “comforters” told him it was his own fault. Yet Job would not accept their conclusions. He persisted in his innocence and begged God for a chance to present his case before God. Job got his opportunity, but quickly had nothing to say as God presented a series of rhetorical questions. In these divine speeches, Job realizes he cannot condemn God to justify himself. That he is just one among the many creations that delight our creator and that such a creator has given order to the chaos that is. God restores twice what Job lost and this time Job sees his life from God’s perspective finding delight in what he has, worrying less about keeping everything under control.
The text this morning is from the beginning of Job’s journey into suffering. Job was a man who tried to do the right thing. When his children threw a party, he would pray and make sacrifices for them, just in case they did or said anything that might offend the LORD. Job didn’t like messy. But life gets messy. A healthy pregnancy and birth can end with Sudden Infant Death, a waitress who never smoked a day in her life can die of lung cancer because of second-hand smoke from the job that had sustained her for 30 years, an honor student and promising athlete can be killed in a car accident the day before starting college. We know the messiness; some of us are living in it right now.
These are the moments we realize how little control we have over so much that damages our society and ourselves. These are the moments when God seems silent. St. John of the Cross referred to days of doubt and estrangement from God as “the dark night of the soul.” Henri Nouwen called them “the ministry of absence.” A. W. Tozer called them “the ministry of the night.” Others refer to “the winter of the heart.” These are the terms of deep spiritual transformation that are often instigated by the tragedy and absurdity of life events. Grief, rage, anger and fear flash to the surface of our consciousness. Where do we go with these feelings? How do we express them? Who will listen when we speak? Where is the app for this?
The value of Biblical laments becomes priceless in these moments. A lament is a cry to God with our doubts and our complaints against God. They give us the freedom and permission to be honest about our suffering and allow us to descend into the depths that is necessary before healing can occur. Both spiritual and psychological counseling traditions recognize that speaking our complaints creates a context for surrender. Surrender – the turning of our heart over to God, asking for mercy, and receiving God’s terms for restoration is impossible without battle. To put it simply, it is inconceivable to surrender to God unless we have first declared war against him. A lament is a battle cry against God that paradoxically voices a heart of desire and faith in his goodness.
Hear the battle cry of Job: “I can’t be quiet! I am angry and bitter. I have to speak.” Such words involve deep emotion. To speak your doubt and despair is truly asking, seeking, and knocking to comprehend the heart of God. Praying our grief is a passion to ask. A lament uses language of pain, anger and confusion and moves toward God. It is not mere whining.
Lament speaks the language of the shadow side of faith. The person who hears your lament is someone you deeply and wildly trust. Lament reveals the raw nerve of trust. It cuts through insincerity. You don’t lament to someone who could fire you or threaten a cherished relationship. You don’t trust them. You don’t believe they would endure the depths of your disappointment and confusion. You admit your complaint against God because deep down you believe and have faith in God’s faithfulness, grace, and mercy. By trusting God with our dark side, we share our deepest hurts and disappointments. We know that God won’t give up on us.
The apostle John wrote that when our heart condemns us, God is greater than our hearts and knows all things, and so we can quiet our hearts. In the book of Revelation the Lord says repeatedly to the churches: “I know” – where you live; your poverty, your tribulation, the slander you have to endure. In the Greek Bible, God is called the kardiognostes, the heart-knower.
The great heart-knower has suffered the depths of life’s tragedies. Whatever messes afflict and grieve us to the core of our being, God has seen it, known it, and taken it into God’s own life in Jesus who was crucified, who died, descended into hell, and was raised on the third day. The Old Testament is not the only place we find permission to speak our pain and bitterness for the New Testament bears the cry of God in anguish, doubt, and search. “My God, My God why have you forsaken me?” The cross is the place for every human experience of hell on earth. God knows this; God has been there, and as a consequence we know that God can be trusted.
Mary Oliver in her poem “At Black River” writes: Then I remember, death comes before the rolling away of the stone. Our pain, sadness, and tragedies are often personal teachers that open us to fearless honesty. Like Job, we find a voice to speak our grief. In the depths of our despair the dark soil is laid for the growth of joy and healing. In doubt we live out our deepest expressions of faith. In our battle cry against God we seek truth as we have never done before. Our pain initiates a search, our anger clarifies the demand for relief, and our confusion opens our heart to change. Here we are transformed and truly known. If you are in the darkness of stone yet to be rolled away – there’s an app for that. Speak your bitterness and anger to the great heart-knower.
I close in prayer from Hymn 703 (ELW) “O God, Why Are Your Silent” by Marty Haugen:
May pain draw forth compassion, let wisdom rise from loss;
oh, take my heart and fashion the image of your cross;
then may I know your healing through healing that I share,
your grace and love revealing, your tenderness and care.
Monday, December 21, 2009
What not to wear this Christmas
Colossians 3: 12- 17
As God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in the one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom; and with gratitude in your hearts sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.
I'm a bit of a fashionista. I love to sparkle and bling with lots of purple and royal blue. I dress to the way I feel - maybe it's rock-n-roll or a little country or some vintage piece. I costume my exterior to express myself or make a statement. But this text is about what am I going to wear on the inside. Could you imagine a world where we all wore an interior uniform of kindness, compassion, humility, love, patience, meekness and gratitude?
At Christmas I reflect on how the Christ is being born in me. How have I lived out a life clothed in Christ? This year was one of daily transformations and little miracles, of expanding my heart in the context of scarcity and fear. I guess you could say, with a little style advice from Colossians I skirted around what not to wear.
So this Christmas as you open presents of new clothes or don an ugly Christmas sweater, consider what you will wear on the inside? Such simple choices could change the world.
Merry Christmas from CowgirlJazz
As God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in the one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom; and with gratitude in your hearts sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.
I'm a bit of a fashionista. I love to sparkle and bling with lots of purple and royal blue. I dress to the way I feel - maybe it's rock-n-roll or a little country or some vintage piece. I costume my exterior to express myself or make a statement. But this text is about what am I going to wear on the inside. Could you imagine a world where we all wore an interior uniform of kindness, compassion, humility, love, patience, meekness and gratitude?
At Christmas I reflect on how the Christ is being born in me. How have I lived out a life clothed in Christ? This year was one of daily transformations and little miracles, of expanding my heart in the context of scarcity and fear. I guess you could say, with a little style advice from Colossians I skirted around what not to wear.
So this Christmas as you open presents of new clothes or don an ugly Christmas sweater, consider what you will wear on the inside? Such simple choices could change the world.
Merry Christmas from CowgirlJazz
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Jesus and the Little Cynic
My last Summer Sunday preaching is on James 2: 1-17 & Mark 7:24-37.
As we celebrate this Labor Day weekend we hear a story from the Gospel of Mark of Jesus’ attempt to take his own Labor Day. In the previous chapter 5, Jesus feeds thousands with meager supplies, and then in chapter 6, he royally offends the Jewish religious leaders of his time by getting into a debate over what is clean and unclean to eat or touch. In the end he tells them it’s not about how well you wash your hands or eat the right foods but the value and pureness of what you say and do in life. Since, established barriers, boundaries, or rules of separation between Jewish and Gentile were kosher, Sabbath, and circumcision, his comment crossed the kosher boundaries and was considered appalling. Then, to add kindling to the fire you might say, Jesus has the audacity to go on vacation to a seashore residence in Gentileville! Maybe he thought leaving his own, familiar territory would give him the opportunity to get perspective on his own people, maybe he thought he could re-charge his batteries by the seashore, or maybe this move was to prove a point that would change the future of his followers forever.
This audacity to cross boundaries reminds me of a story by Ernst Kasemann (Jesus Means Freedom) about a church in Holland in a year which had seen rising tides and collapsing dikes. One particularly bad weekend, it was necessary for the town mayor to ask the pastor of the local Reformed church to bring all of his people out to help repair the dikes on Sunday morning or else they might lose the entire town. The pastor called the church elders together who discussed the matter and concluded that they had been commanded to keep the Sabbath holy, so if they perished it was God’s will, but they would not cancel services. The pastor then mentioned Jesus’ violation of the Sabbath law, hoping it might stimulate some further thought. To which one old elder says, “Pastor, I have never before ventured to say this publicly, but I’ve always thought our Lord Jesus was a bit of a liberal.” (www.preachingpeace.org)
The opportunity to liberally challenge yet another social boundary comes immediately as a pagan woman, a Gentile, approaches Jesus with deference, respect, and determined desperation. This isn’t the first Gentile to approach Jesus. Jairus was a Gentile of honorable standing who is helped immediately by Jesus. Yet Jesus turns a deaf ear to this woman. Why? We can surmise from her daughter having a bed to sleep in and her proper approach that she was most likely a woman of good standing and respect. However, it was proper for a male head of family to make petitions not a woman. In gender lies the difference. There were very strict social boundaries and mores to discourage contact between men and women, even more concerning contact between Jews and Gentiles. Yet this woman will not take no for an answer. She is confident in her faith that he can cure her daughter. Her faith that even crumbs would be enough breaks through Jesus’ hindrance to answer her plea.
This passage is one that perplexes many Christians for it reveals a very human image of Christ and it is certainly not an image of “Buddy Jesus.” Although many commentators emphasize Jesus’ use of the diminutive word for dog, Jesus is still throwing an insult her way when he calls the woman a dog. This is what shocks us today. To contemporary listeners of Mark, the shocking fact is that Jesus healed the Gentile girl. It was common conviction that Gentiles were unworthy, that they were dogs. When Jesus hears this woman out and concedes to her clever argument he is re-framing an entire social self-concept. This is one of the most pivotal moments in Christian history. This is the moment of a paradigm shift in which we realize Jesus Christ is not a savior limited to those who are like him. No, Jesus Christ is savior to all!
That’s good news, but maybe you’re still troubled by Jesus calling the woman and her daughter “little dogs” (kynaria, a diminutive of kyon, “dog”). I learned some interesting history relating to that common insult of the day. In the fourth century B.C.E. a philosophical movement began in Greece that was very critical of social and cultural conventions and political institutions. The followers of this movement were aggressive, rude, and sometimes used shameless behavior like barking or peeing on a leg of a table to be noticed and heard. Nonetheless they came to be called kynes, “dogs”, a name they adopted for their movement. The word was later translated into English as “Cynics.” Cynics are associated with being faultfinders, in a pursuit for virtue they are quick to point out the flaws in others. Although, today we think of cynics as people motivated by selfishness or whose outlook is extremely negative, the essence of a cynic is to challenge convention. Jesus is challenged about the customary boundaries that stood in the way of helping those in need by a “little cynic.” (The Women’s Bible Commentary, Carol A. Newsom & Sharon H. Ringe ed. p269.)
In light of this definition, one might call our text from James 2, a little cynical. James is convinced of Christ’s message, to be the savior to all, and points out the sin of favoritism that Christians were and still do practice. It’s human nature to want to stick with that which is most familiar. The great division in culture today has more to do with money and class than even race or sexuality. We are divided by our comfort levels. James challenges that comfort and invites us to take the next step from knowing we are saved and justified by faith to living and acting out that faith. Don’t just believe. Let that belief sink deep into the way you live your life, make decisions, or speak to others. That’s a powerful message and a lifelong struggle for all of us. We all make mistakes and feel unworthy at some point. It’s hard to come back from those moments and live up to our faith, especially if you happen to have a few little cynics around who are quick to point out your faults.
This past week I’ve been prepping for confirmation classes and it is in Luther’s Small Catechism that I found some spiritual relief. In the back of your ELW, pg 1162, you will find the Small Catechism by Martin Luther, specifically his commentary of The Apostle’s Creed. The Third Article on Being Made Holy reads: I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting.
Then you find the infamous Luther question, “What is this?” Luther used that question because it was what his young son would say all day long as he saw or experienced something new. “Was ist los, Poppa” Since Luther’s intent was for this to be a teaching tool for parents to pass on faith to their children he considered it the perfect question. So what is this? I believe that by my own understanding or strength I cannot believe in Jesus Christ my Lord or come to him, but instead the Holy Spirit has called me through the gospel, enlightened me with his gifts, made me holy and kept me in the true faith, just as he calls, gathers, enlightens, and makes holy the whole Christian church on earth and keeps it with Jesus Christ in the one common, true faith. Daily in this Christian church the Holy Spirit abundantly forgives all sins – mine and those of all believers. On the last day the Holy Spirit will raise me and all the dead and will give to me and all believers in Christ eternal life. This is most certainly true.
No matter how hard we try, we all have our shadow side and we cannot by our own strength and understanding get past that, but the Holy Spirit can and does. So we have a Savior who is savior to all people and a Spirit that calls, gathers, enlightens, and makes us holy, that abundantly forgives, and grants us the opportunity to take a painful look into our hearts and release the shadows that live there in full knowledge that we may be healed and by being healed, heal others. The blessing of “little cynics” is their ability to point out faults in social rules and mores that prevent universal help, hope and healing. Little cynics help us take ownership of our shadows. Barbara Brown Taylor is a preacher and writer who composed a sermon entitled “Owning Your Own Shadow” in her book Bread of Angels. She writes:
Jesus knows the truth about us and our judgments about one another, especially when we place “some” of God’s children on the other side of a line that we draw: “The danger is not out there, with the people who frighten and disturb us. The danger is in here, in the part of us that wants to cut ourselves off from them. There is actual evil in the shadow we will not own.” (www.i.ucc.org “Be Opened”)
May we all be opened to receive the Spirit and be made holy. May we examine our hearts and minds and release the shadows within. May we cross the boundaries with knowledge and belief in God’s abundant and overflowing grace to all and for all. May we know, this is most certainly true.
As we celebrate this Labor Day weekend we hear a story from the Gospel of Mark of Jesus’ attempt to take his own Labor Day. In the previous chapter 5, Jesus feeds thousands with meager supplies, and then in chapter 6, he royally offends the Jewish religious leaders of his time by getting into a debate over what is clean and unclean to eat or touch. In the end he tells them it’s not about how well you wash your hands or eat the right foods but the value and pureness of what you say and do in life. Since, established barriers, boundaries, or rules of separation between Jewish and Gentile were kosher, Sabbath, and circumcision, his comment crossed the kosher boundaries and was considered appalling. Then, to add kindling to the fire you might say, Jesus has the audacity to go on vacation to a seashore residence in Gentileville! Maybe he thought leaving his own, familiar territory would give him the opportunity to get perspective on his own people, maybe he thought he could re-charge his batteries by the seashore, or maybe this move was to prove a point that would change the future of his followers forever.
This audacity to cross boundaries reminds me of a story by Ernst Kasemann (Jesus Means Freedom) about a church in Holland in a year which had seen rising tides and collapsing dikes. One particularly bad weekend, it was necessary for the town mayor to ask the pastor of the local Reformed church to bring all of his people out to help repair the dikes on Sunday morning or else they might lose the entire town. The pastor called the church elders together who discussed the matter and concluded that they had been commanded to keep the Sabbath holy, so if they perished it was God’s will, but they would not cancel services. The pastor then mentioned Jesus’ violation of the Sabbath law, hoping it might stimulate some further thought. To which one old elder says, “Pastor, I have never before ventured to say this publicly, but I’ve always thought our Lord Jesus was a bit of a liberal.” (www.preachingpeace.org)
The opportunity to liberally challenge yet another social boundary comes immediately as a pagan woman, a Gentile, approaches Jesus with deference, respect, and determined desperation. This isn’t the first Gentile to approach Jesus. Jairus was a Gentile of honorable standing who is helped immediately by Jesus. Yet Jesus turns a deaf ear to this woman. Why? We can surmise from her daughter having a bed to sleep in and her proper approach that she was most likely a woman of good standing and respect. However, it was proper for a male head of family to make petitions not a woman. In gender lies the difference. There were very strict social boundaries and mores to discourage contact between men and women, even more concerning contact between Jews and Gentiles. Yet this woman will not take no for an answer. She is confident in her faith that he can cure her daughter. Her faith that even crumbs would be enough breaks through Jesus’ hindrance to answer her plea.
This passage is one that perplexes many Christians for it reveals a very human image of Christ and it is certainly not an image of “Buddy Jesus.” Although many commentators emphasize Jesus’ use of the diminutive word for dog, Jesus is still throwing an insult her way when he calls the woman a dog. This is what shocks us today. To contemporary listeners of Mark, the shocking fact is that Jesus healed the Gentile girl. It was common conviction that Gentiles were unworthy, that they were dogs. When Jesus hears this woman out and concedes to her clever argument he is re-framing an entire social self-concept. This is one of the most pivotal moments in Christian history. This is the moment of a paradigm shift in which we realize Jesus Christ is not a savior limited to those who are like him. No, Jesus Christ is savior to all!
That’s good news, but maybe you’re still troubled by Jesus calling the woman and her daughter “little dogs” (kynaria, a diminutive of kyon, “dog”). I learned some interesting history relating to that common insult of the day. In the fourth century B.C.E. a philosophical movement began in Greece that was very critical of social and cultural conventions and political institutions. The followers of this movement were aggressive, rude, and sometimes used shameless behavior like barking or peeing on a leg of a table to be noticed and heard. Nonetheless they came to be called kynes, “dogs”, a name they adopted for their movement. The word was later translated into English as “Cynics.” Cynics are associated with being faultfinders, in a pursuit for virtue they are quick to point out the flaws in others. Although, today we think of cynics as people motivated by selfishness or whose outlook is extremely negative, the essence of a cynic is to challenge convention. Jesus is challenged about the customary boundaries that stood in the way of helping those in need by a “little cynic.” (The Women’s Bible Commentary, Carol A. Newsom & Sharon H. Ringe ed. p269.)
In light of this definition, one might call our text from James 2, a little cynical. James is convinced of Christ’s message, to be the savior to all, and points out the sin of favoritism that Christians were and still do practice. It’s human nature to want to stick with that which is most familiar. The great division in culture today has more to do with money and class than even race or sexuality. We are divided by our comfort levels. James challenges that comfort and invites us to take the next step from knowing we are saved and justified by faith to living and acting out that faith. Don’t just believe. Let that belief sink deep into the way you live your life, make decisions, or speak to others. That’s a powerful message and a lifelong struggle for all of us. We all make mistakes and feel unworthy at some point. It’s hard to come back from those moments and live up to our faith, especially if you happen to have a few little cynics around who are quick to point out your faults.
This past week I’ve been prepping for confirmation classes and it is in Luther’s Small Catechism that I found some spiritual relief. In the back of your ELW, pg 1162, you will find the Small Catechism by Martin Luther, specifically his commentary of The Apostle’s Creed. The Third Article on Being Made Holy reads: I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting.
Then you find the infamous Luther question, “What is this?” Luther used that question because it was what his young son would say all day long as he saw or experienced something new. “Was ist los, Poppa” Since Luther’s intent was for this to be a teaching tool for parents to pass on faith to their children he considered it the perfect question. So what is this? I believe that by my own understanding or strength I cannot believe in Jesus Christ my Lord or come to him, but instead the Holy Spirit has called me through the gospel, enlightened me with his gifts, made me holy and kept me in the true faith, just as he calls, gathers, enlightens, and makes holy the whole Christian church on earth and keeps it with Jesus Christ in the one common, true faith. Daily in this Christian church the Holy Spirit abundantly forgives all sins – mine and those of all believers. On the last day the Holy Spirit will raise me and all the dead and will give to me and all believers in Christ eternal life. This is most certainly true.
No matter how hard we try, we all have our shadow side and we cannot by our own strength and understanding get past that, but the Holy Spirit can and does. So we have a Savior who is savior to all people and a Spirit that calls, gathers, enlightens, and makes us holy, that abundantly forgives, and grants us the opportunity to take a painful look into our hearts and release the shadows that live there in full knowledge that we may be healed and by being healed, heal others. The blessing of “little cynics” is their ability to point out faults in social rules and mores that prevent universal help, hope and healing. Little cynics help us take ownership of our shadows. Barbara Brown Taylor is a preacher and writer who composed a sermon entitled “Owning Your Own Shadow” in her book Bread of Angels. She writes:
Jesus knows the truth about us and our judgments about one another, especially when we place “some” of God’s children on the other side of a line that we draw: “The danger is not out there, with the people who frighten and disturb us. The danger is in here, in the part of us that wants to cut ourselves off from them. There is actual evil in the shadow we will not own.” (www.i.ucc.org “Be Opened”)
May we all be opened to receive the Spirit and be made holy. May we examine our hearts and minds and release the shadows within. May we cross the boundaries with knowledge and belief in God’s abundant and overflowing grace to all and for all. May we know, this is most certainly true.
One of those Days – Stressin’ in the Wilderness, August 2, 2009
Been a tough week for me, a definite wilderness experience. This is the message I got from the readings in Exodus 16:2-4, 9-15 & John 6:24-35. Exodus 16 is the story of the Isrealites after they've escaped from Egypt and find themselves starving. They complain very loudly about this. God hears their complaints and responds with provisions: quail meat and strange bread flakes called Manna (literally "What is it?").
Ever have one of those days, weeks, maybe even years? You know the kind of day that goes from bad to worse and back to bad again. Somehow you get through those tough times, but not without a well-deserved cry of woe. People are stressing out everywhere with good reason. We live in a time of global economic turbulence. Every one of us is being touched in some way by the loss of jobs, homes, healthcare, pensions and savings, fears of identity theft, rejection in relationships, and diagnosis of diseases. We live in a wilderness of insecurity. We seek relief from our stress by enrolling in stress management classes, learning to meditate or do yoga, getting spiritual, or trying to change our lifestyles. Even these good intentions end up stressing us out. It’s just one more thing to do to make things better, to feel safer, and to finally exhale. Peace and rest is what we’re starving for in our personal wilderness.
Exodus 16 tells the story of grumbling Israelites who are being shaped from freed slaves to people of God. This is a culturally identifying story. There are two lessons here, one is that God is Jehovah Jireh – The LORD our Provider. The second lesson is that we should honor Sabbath rest, for it identifies us as followers of God who trust he is our provider.
The wilderness is an exciting time filled with lessons of trust. No sooner had the people left Egypt than they are being hunted down by the Egyptians. God provides for their safety and the people celebrate. Three days later the people are thirsty and can only find bitter water. God provides clean water to drink. Then on the 15th day of the second month, the people are grumbling again about starving. I don’t know about you, but about now I’d be having my doubts as to how dense and self-centered these folks are, but not God. God hears their grumblings and responds by providing exactly what they need and always enough for everyone. Of course, he does have a bit of a joke on those who are inclined to hoard. You could only gather enough manna for the day; any extra would be spoiled and full of maggots by the end of the day. The only exception to this rule was the 6th day when Israelites were instructed to gather enough for two days and rest on the 7th day, the Sabbath. God was teaching them to depend on Him, one day at a time.
Yet, when one is having a personal wilderness experience, it is difficult to see any good in present circumstances. The wilderness is a place of danger and want. We are tempted to look to the past and see a time of security in comparison to the vast unknowns we find ourselves in. Though our message today is that the wilderness is NOT God-forsaken, it sure feels like it is. That is why I am struck by Exodus 16:10:
“And as Aaron spoke to the whole congregation of the Israelites, they looked toward the wilderness, and the glory of the LORD appeared in the cloud.”
When the whole congregation turned their faces toward the wilderness they were turning their faces away from Egypt. They were forced to refocus. To refocus in the wilderness can lead to focusing in on the important things, truly knowing what they are and appreciating them. The wilderness can also be a space for learning new ways of being that is not based on our identities in the past. The wilderness can be a place of discovery and reinvention. Although the wilderness can feel like death, God can and does provide in ways that fit the insecure and unknown present.
Our gospel lesson from John 6 expands the lessons of Exodus. John 6:32-35 reads: Then Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, it was not Moses who gave you the bread from heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.” They said to him, “Sir, give us this bread always.” Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”
If peace and rest are what we hunger for in our personal wilderness, then Jesus is offering an opportunity to refocus and find what we are looking for. The crowd was focused on their memory of having their needs met the day before, on daily bread. Jesus is asking them to turn their faces from Egypt and face the wilderness where God sustains our lives for life. It is frightening to face the wilderness, the places of insecurity and unknowns but Jesus is no stranger to this fear. You see, God has been to the cross for us and has transformed the life of the wilderness into a life of provision.
A colleague of mine always says, “Where God guides, God provides.” I’ve heard countless stories of wrong turns leading to opportunities for service, a loss leading to new life, a tragedy motivating great change. I don’t know why we find ourselves in “Why me?” situations, stressin’ in the wilderness, but when we do our identity as people of God is shaped and defined. As people of God we are called to trust that God will provide and we are called to honor rest. This is unusual behavior. It is what marks us as followers of God. But don’t worry, you can still have a good cry of woe, God is listening and he does respond, with grace.
Ever have one of those days, weeks, maybe even years? You know the kind of day that goes from bad to worse and back to bad again. Somehow you get through those tough times, but not without a well-deserved cry of woe. People are stressing out everywhere with good reason. We live in a time of global economic turbulence. Every one of us is being touched in some way by the loss of jobs, homes, healthcare, pensions and savings, fears of identity theft, rejection in relationships, and diagnosis of diseases. We live in a wilderness of insecurity. We seek relief from our stress by enrolling in stress management classes, learning to meditate or do yoga, getting spiritual, or trying to change our lifestyles. Even these good intentions end up stressing us out. It’s just one more thing to do to make things better, to feel safer, and to finally exhale. Peace and rest is what we’re starving for in our personal wilderness.
Exodus 16 tells the story of grumbling Israelites who are being shaped from freed slaves to people of God. This is a culturally identifying story. There are two lessons here, one is that God is Jehovah Jireh – The LORD our Provider. The second lesson is that we should honor Sabbath rest, for it identifies us as followers of God who trust he is our provider.
The wilderness is an exciting time filled with lessons of trust. No sooner had the people left Egypt than they are being hunted down by the Egyptians. God provides for their safety and the people celebrate. Three days later the people are thirsty and can only find bitter water. God provides clean water to drink. Then on the 15th day of the second month, the people are grumbling again about starving. I don’t know about you, but about now I’d be having my doubts as to how dense and self-centered these folks are, but not God. God hears their grumblings and responds by providing exactly what they need and always enough for everyone. Of course, he does have a bit of a joke on those who are inclined to hoard. You could only gather enough manna for the day; any extra would be spoiled and full of maggots by the end of the day. The only exception to this rule was the 6th day when Israelites were instructed to gather enough for two days and rest on the 7th day, the Sabbath. God was teaching them to depend on Him, one day at a time.
Yet, when one is having a personal wilderness experience, it is difficult to see any good in present circumstances. The wilderness is a place of danger and want. We are tempted to look to the past and see a time of security in comparison to the vast unknowns we find ourselves in. Though our message today is that the wilderness is NOT God-forsaken, it sure feels like it is. That is why I am struck by Exodus 16:10:
“And as Aaron spoke to the whole congregation of the Israelites, they looked toward the wilderness, and the glory of the LORD appeared in the cloud.”
When the whole congregation turned their faces toward the wilderness they were turning their faces away from Egypt. They were forced to refocus. To refocus in the wilderness can lead to focusing in on the important things, truly knowing what they are and appreciating them. The wilderness can also be a space for learning new ways of being that is not based on our identities in the past. The wilderness can be a place of discovery and reinvention. Although the wilderness can feel like death, God can and does provide in ways that fit the insecure and unknown present.
Our gospel lesson from John 6 expands the lessons of Exodus. John 6:32-35 reads: Then Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, it was not Moses who gave you the bread from heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.” They said to him, “Sir, give us this bread always.” Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”
If peace and rest are what we hunger for in our personal wilderness, then Jesus is offering an opportunity to refocus and find what we are looking for. The crowd was focused on their memory of having their needs met the day before, on daily bread. Jesus is asking them to turn their faces from Egypt and face the wilderness where God sustains our lives for life. It is frightening to face the wilderness, the places of insecurity and unknowns but Jesus is no stranger to this fear. You see, God has been to the cross for us and has transformed the life of the wilderness into a life of provision.
A colleague of mine always says, “Where God guides, God provides.” I’ve heard countless stories of wrong turns leading to opportunities for service, a loss leading to new life, a tragedy motivating great change. I don’t know why we find ourselves in “Why me?” situations, stressin’ in the wilderness, but when we do our identity as people of God is shaped and defined. As people of God we are called to trust that God will provide and we are called to honor rest. This is unusual behavior. It is what marks us as followers of God. But don’t worry, you can still have a good cry of woe, God is listening and he does respond, with grace.
No Regrets, July 26, 2009
This is a message I'm sharing with a community along Highway 212 where hundreds of Minnesotans lined the highway holding American flags as a convoy escorting a hearse carrying the body of SPC. James Wertish toward his home in rural Olivia. Hector is my hometown. Readings are from the New Testament in the Bible: John 6:1-21 & Ephesians 3:14-21.
Many people who followed Jesus up that mountain probably didn’t have a lot going for them. They were free to hike nine miles in Upper Galilee to see an itinerant preacher and sit in the grass. They were loners who lacked community, isolated individuals who needed to belong to someone, something, somewhere. There they were fed. I’m a big fan of everyday miracles. In this story I see the miraculous in that these disconnected, lonely lives sat down together and began to share. They discovered a joy and fulfillment that comes from knowing that you belong to each other.
This week Hector and other towns along Highway 212 experienced an everyday miracle as 100s of people lined up along the highway, waving flags, and welcoming home a fallen soldier. Many did not know SPC. James Wertish, but you were present for him, for his family, and for your community to grieve together and be a part of a deeper connection, the act of belonging to each other. After watching the video and reading articles about the event I was struck by the words of Paul in Ephesians 3:14-21 with new meaning. Here is a loose translation of how I read his prayer:
I fall down on my knees and pray your inward person be renewed day by day through the wear and tear of life’s challenges and tribulations.
So often the realities of life’s unfairness, tragedy, and chaos wear us down. Like Philip, who is asked how to feed the 5000, we see a hopeless task. Or, like Andrew, we scavenge to do our best and admit it’s not enough. These two disciples display the heartbreaking blend of hopelessness and frustration that comes with facing situations beyond our resources and control, situations that bring us to our knees in prayer or despair.
When we are convinced that things are hopeless it is difficult to set our mind on thinking of solutions. We just want to curl up under the covers and disappear for a while. My personal red flag is when I notice myself saying, “What’s the point?” That’s when I know; I’ve given up and closed my mind to possibilities. I recognize hopeless thinking to be a sign that something big needs to change in my life. That’s not easy. It’s a call for a shift in perspective. Feeling hopeless is a call for hope.
Such a shift in perspective occurs in our story from John 6. Jesus hears the words of Philip and Andrew, he feels their pain, and with a knowing look does something crazy. He takes what little they have, blesses it and trusts completely that the people will be fed, and they are. They are not only fed they are fed to a sensation of ultimate fullness with fragments to be gathered. How did that happen? I don’t know. What I do know is that this was a powerful experience of community, faith, and hope. It was a miracle by being a shift in perspective; just like that line of flags on Highway 212 was a miracle, shifting isolated grief for one family into communal grief for a whole county.
Following this powerful event, Jesus returns to the mountaintop to be alone. In the other gospels this time away is due to grief as he learned his cousin, John the Baptist, had been beheaded. We can only assume for this text that such grieving drove him into a time of prayer and escape from the crowds. While away the disciples struggle to cross the waters in a terrible storm. Notice that in this text, the storm is not stilled. You see, God can be present and reveal God’s glory in the midst of the storm. If the storms of your reality are blowing hard and you’re filled with fear, hopelessness, or grief divine presence is still with you. You don’t have to wait for the trials of life to calm down before you can get God.
I think that’s what Paul was leaning toward when he prayed in Ephesians 3. He wanted us to understand that we need to be renewed day by day and that renewal is an inner transformation. He speaks of Christ dwelling in our hearts. Dwelling meant to take permanent residence, not just a temporary lease. And the heart referred to our inner being, not just our emotions, but our mind and spirit, the things that make us who we are. Allowing Jesus to sustain us, transform us, encourage us, and strengthen us to the depths of our beings is what he’s praying for. Then he concludes that we should share this knowledge in one, undivided community. It is hard to imagine in our world of war, isolation, and division this “oneness” that Paul addresses again and again in the Letter to Ephesus. Yet, we just experienced it this week. One community of strangers united for one reason, to grieve as one for a young man whose favorite saying was, “No regrets.”
“No regrets” is an attitude that lives through tragedies, grows strong with trials, sees the calm after the storm, and knows the end is a new place yet to be explored. “No regrets” is to face the hopelessness with a look of hope. May we come to the table and receive the bread of life with no regrets. Then go forward in confidence to be the bread of life for others, with no regrets.
Many people who followed Jesus up that mountain probably didn’t have a lot going for them. They were free to hike nine miles in Upper Galilee to see an itinerant preacher and sit in the grass. They were loners who lacked community, isolated individuals who needed to belong to someone, something, somewhere. There they were fed. I’m a big fan of everyday miracles. In this story I see the miraculous in that these disconnected, lonely lives sat down together and began to share. They discovered a joy and fulfillment that comes from knowing that you belong to each other.
This week Hector and other towns along Highway 212 experienced an everyday miracle as 100s of people lined up along the highway, waving flags, and welcoming home a fallen soldier. Many did not know SPC. James Wertish, but you were present for him, for his family, and for your community to grieve together and be a part of a deeper connection, the act of belonging to each other. After watching the video and reading articles about the event I was struck by the words of Paul in Ephesians 3:14-21 with new meaning. Here is a loose translation of how I read his prayer:
I fall down on my knees and pray your inward person be renewed day by day through the wear and tear of life’s challenges and tribulations.
So often the realities of life’s unfairness, tragedy, and chaos wear us down. Like Philip, who is asked how to feed the 5000, we see a hopeless task. Or, like Andrew, we scavenge to do our best and admit it’s not enough. These two disciples display the heartbreaking blend of hopelessness and frustration that comes with facing situations beyond our resources and control, situations that bring us to our knees in prayer or despair.
When we are convinced that things are hopeless it is difficult to set our mind on thinking of solutions. We just want to curl up under the covers and disappear for a while. My personal red flag is when I notice myself saying, “What’s the point?” That’s when I know; I’ve given up and closed my mind to possibilities. I recognize hopeless thinking to be a sign that something big needs to change in my life. That’s not easy. It’s a call for a shift in perspective. Feeling hopeless is a call for hope.
Such a shift in perspective occurs in our story from John 6. Jesus hears the words of Philip and Andrew, he feels their pain, and with a knowing look does something crazy. He takes what little they have, blesses it and trusts completely that the people will be fed, and they are. They are not only fed they are fed to a sensation of ultimate fullness with fragments to be gathered. How did that happen? I don’t know. What I do know is that this was a powerful experience of community, faith, and hope. It was a miracle by being a shift in perspective; just like that line of flags on Highway 212 was a miracle, shifting isolated grief for one family into communal grief for a whole county.
Following this powerful event, Jesus returns to the mountaintop to be alone. In the other gospels this time away is due to grief as he learned his cousin, John the Baptist, had been beheaded. We can only assume for this text that such grieving drove him into a time of prayer and escape from the crowds. While away the disciples struggle to cross the waters in a terrible storm. Notice that in this text, the storm is not stilled. You see, God can be present and reveal God’s glory in the midst of the storm. If the storms of your reality are blowing hard and you’re filled with fear, hopelessness, or grief divine presence is still with you. You don’t have to wait for the trials of life to calm down before you can get God.
I think that’s what Paul was leaning toward when he prayed in Ephesians 3. He wanted us to understand that we need to be renewed day by day and that renewal is an inner transformation. He speaks of Christ dwelling in our hearts. Dwelling meant to take permanent residence, not just a temporary lease. And the heart referred to our inner being, not just our emotions, but our mind and spirit, the things that make us who we are. Allowing Jesus to sustain us, transform us, encourage us, and strengthen us to the depths of our beings is what he’s praying for. Then he concludes that we should share this knowledge in one, undivided community. It is hard to imagine in our world of war, isolation, and division this “oneness” that Paul addresses again and again in the Letter to Ephesus. Yet, we just experienced it this week. One community of strangers united for one reason, to grieve as one for a young man whose favorite saying was, “No regrets.”
“No regrets” is an attitude that lives through tragedies, grows strong with trials, sees the calm after the storm, and knows the end is a new place yet to be explored. “No regrets” is to face the hopelessness with a look of hope. May we come to the table and receive the bread of life with no regrets. Then go forward in confidence to be the bread of life for others, with no regrets.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Facing the Man in the Mirror or Off with His Head - Mark 6:14-29
This is a message I gave at Spirit Garage on July 12, 2009. The scripture is the story of the Beheading of John the Baptist. I address Responsible Power - Speaking the Truth to Ourselves. Songs sung that morning included: "What I've Done" by Linkin Park and "Come On Up to the House" by Tom Waits. Gotta admit my old Evangelical United Brethren roots are showing. :)
Herod was a haunted man. When Jesus’ fame began to spread throughout the land, people compared him to all the great prophets. But for Herod, Jesus was the mistake that haunted him and some say, cursed him, the rest of his life. He thought Jesus was John the Baptist return from the dead.
Now it’s important to understand the deep dysfunction of Herod’s family, to understand the paradox of a man like him caring enough to be haunted by one man’s death at all. Herod Antipas was the son of Herod the Great who was a very cruel, insecure ruler. Herod the Great is the one who ordered the death of all the children under the age of 2 years in Bethlehem when Jesus was born. It was a popular saying in his time, “It was better to be Herod’s pigs than his sons.” As a Jew, Herod would not eat his pigs, but he did kill most of his sons if they threatened his rule in any way. The few who were left, including Philip and Herod Antipas, were all conniving, sniveling, people-pleasing, weak rulers who were bent on not only robbing the scraps from Rome but from each other.
Herod Antipas was married to an Arabian princess. When he went to visit his half-brother, Philip, in Rome he seduced Philip’s wife Herodias. Herodias was the niece of Philip and Herod Antipas. Her father was their half-brother, whom Herod the Great had assassinated. Herodias agreed to leave her husband, take her daughter Salome, and move in with Herod Antipas. Herod Antipas made the plan to divorce his wife when he returned. His wife found out and told him she was going on a holiday, which was really an escape back to her father’s kingdom where she told daddy what her husband had done. This made the Arabian king very mad and so he saw this as an opportunity to resolve some of the border issues he’d been having with Herod anyway. Eventually a war occurred between the two territories and Herod lost badly. This is where the curse of John the Baptist comes into play. It was popular folklore that the defeat of Herod was retribution for the meaningless beheading of John the Baptist.
So why did Herod imprison John the Baptist in the first place? By shaming the king with the truth about his affair with Herodias, who was both his sister-in-law and niece, John inadvertently aligned himself with Herod’s enemy, the Arabian king. Imprisoning John was a political move to shut him up before he riled up the masses. On the other hand, Herodias took things more personally. She felt the best way to shut up a prophet is to cut off his head but she couldn’t because Herod liked John and protected him. Maybe he did this because John’s honest truth-telling was a virtue Herod never knew and lacked the character to possess. It perplexed him.
If this story isn’t twisted enough, in dances the young step-daughter who gives a “pleasing” performance on Herod’s birthday. Historical records say the girls’ name is Salome and she was probably14years old or younger at this time, so it is hard to say how provocative this dance really was. Nonetheless for a princess to perform a public dance was quite unheard of. When Herod promises her anything she wants, even half his kingdom he is blowing his ego up a bit. Herod didn’t really have that kind of power to give because he was a symbolic puppet ruler for Rome. To give half your kingdom was a figurative saying that was used another time in the Bible. The biblical book of Esther tells of another royal banquet, a drunken king making a vow to a beautiful young woman, promising her up to half his kingdom. Beautiful Esther uses this opportunity to save her people and stop the acting out of a decree to destroy, kill and annihilate all the Jews. On the other hand, Salome runs to her mother who uses the opportunity to harm John the Baptist and please her appetite for revenge, a dish best served cold and on a platter. I imagine a little girl in awe of this royal banquet, with vulgar sweetness, skipping with excitement and her own embellishments to pronounce “I want the head of John the Baptist, on a platter.” I wonder how she responded when she was handed the head on a platter. Did this image haunt her like it haunted her step-father?
The topic for this morning is responsible power. Power is the ability to effect change or exert control over either things or people, subjects or objects. Herod is haunted by his exertion of power to destroy John. John is a prophet which means truth-teller. He told the truth to power and lost his head. What do we lose or gain when we speak the truth? Next week, Pastor Rob will address responsible power in relationship to society and justice. But I feel one cannot speak the truth to power socially until one has faced their internal power. I’m talking about facing the man in the mirror.
I was watching a news show this week that interviewed a psychologist with a theory about Michael Jackson’s numerous plastic surgeries. A photo of Michael Jackson when he was younger was aged and the result was the spitting image of his father, who had been quite abusive and pushed his career. The psychologist posed that when MJ looked in the mirror he saw his father and hated the image in the mirror so much, he wanted to change what he saw literally. When you look in the mirror, what truth about yourself, what weakness, what hidden fault do you want to erase from sight?
Who wants to face their own ugliness? Who wants to admit the messes they’ve made? We have the power of choice and like Esther or Salome; we can choose that which helps or that which harms ourselves and others. It is overwhelming to admit we are a mess and it can feel that no one, let alone God, will want us if they knew the truth. We set impossibly frustrating expectations to get our acts cleaned up and to stop feeling like “damaged goods” before receiving the love intended for us. When we’re good “God material” then we’ll get spiritual. This usually leads to quiet hopelessness and practices to drown out the nagging feeling we’re missing something with alcohol or work or responsibilities. On top of that we can manipulate the truth into unrecognizable creations, like Michael Jackson’s face, but in the end it’s still you and until you accept yourself and your mistakes as forgivable, let alone lovable, you will live as a victim of self-imposed crucifixion. Get down off that cross and use that wood for some good. There is no shame and humiliation greater than the cross of Jesus. It’s all been done for you. You don’t need to crucify yourself or become your own personal savior. Stop waiting to get pretty for God. Jesus is attracted to the unattractive.
Here’s more good news, we are forgiven then we can repent. Repentance literally means “turn around,” or “walk a new path.” In the Roman Empire, when an emperor died and a new one took his place, the word went out to all the Roman legions “Repent and believe in the new emperor!” The Gospel writers utilized this popular saying to mean “turn from the path you are on and align yourself with God!” (Bethlehem Lutheran Church, 7-5-2009) Repentance is a transformative choice about where you will invest your energy and focus in life.
Forgiveness enabling repentance is one of the great paradoxes of our faith. The honesty of facing the truth about yourself leaves you vulnerable, needy and exposed. You are loved and embraced in that moment. You are forgivable. You don’t have to wait to clean up the damage before you come to God because God’s here already and knows full well what you’ve done. You have the power wallow in what you’ve done or make a change. So, come on up to the house and join the holy truth-tellers party. We’re a raucous bunch and can sometimes lose our heads, but everyone’s welcome.
Herod was a haunted man. When Jesus’ fame began to spread throughout the land, people compared him to all the great prophets. But for Herod, Jesus was the mistake that haunted him and some say, cursed him, the rest of his life. He thought Jesus was John the Baptist return from the dead.
Now it’s important to understand the deep dysfunction of Herod’s family, to understand the paradox of a man like him caring enough to be haunted by one man’s death at all. Herod Antipas was the son of Herod the Great who was a very cruel, insecure ruler. Herod the Great is the one who ordered the death of all the children under the age of 2 years in Bethlehem when Jesus was born. It was a popular saying in his time, “It was better to be Herod’s pigs than his sons.” As a Jew, Herod would not eat his pigs, but he did kill most of his sons if they threatened his rule in any way. The few who were left, including Philip and Herod Antipas, were all conniving, sniveling, people-pleasing, weak rulers who were bent on not only robbing the scraps from Rome but from each other.
Herod Antipas was married to an Arabian princess. When he went to visit his half-brother, Philip, in Rome he seduced Philip’s wife Herodias. Herodias was the niece of Philip and Herod Antipas. Her father was their half-brother, whom Herod the Great had assassinated. Herodias agreed to leave her husband, take her daughter Salome, and move in with Herod Antipas. Herod Antipas made the plan to divorce his wife when he returned. His wife found out and told him she was going on a holiday, which was really an escape back to her father’s kingdom where she told daddy what her husband had done. This made the Arabian king very mad and so he saw this as an opportunity to resolve some of the border issues he’d been having with Herod anyway. Eventually a war occurred between the two territories and Herod lost badly. This is where the curse of John the Baptist comes into play. It was popular folklore that the defeat of Herod was retribution for the meaningless beheading of John the Baptist.
So why did Herod imprison John the Baptist in the first place? By shaming the king with the truth about his affair with Herodias, who was both his sister-in-law and niece, John inadvertently aligned himself with Herod’s enemy, the Arabian king. Imprisoning John was a political move to shut him up before he riled up the masses. On the other hand, Herodias took things more personally. She felt the best way to shut up a prophet is to cut off his head but she couldn’t because Herod liked John and protected him. Maybe he did this because John’s honest truth-telling was a virtue Herod never knew and lacked the character to possess. It perplexed him.
If this story isn’t twisted enough, in dances the young step-daughter who gives a “pleasing” performance on Herod’s birthday. Historical records say the girls’ name is Salome and she was probably14years old or younger at this time, so it is hard to say how provocative this dance really was. Nonetheless for a princess to perform a public dance was quite unheard of. When Herod promises her anything she wants, even half his kingdom he is blowing his ego up a bit. Herod didn’t really have that kind of power to give because he was a symbolic puppet ruler for Rome. To give half your kingdom was a figurative saying that was used another time in the Bible. The biblical book of Esther tells of another royal banquet, a drunken king making a vow to a beautiful young woman, promising her up to half his kingdom. Beautiful Esther uses this opportunity to save her people and stop the acting out of a decree to destroy, kill and annihilate all the Jews. On the other hand, Salome runs to her mother who uses the opportunity to harm John the Baptist and please her appetite for revenge, a dish best served cold and on a platter. I imagine a little girl in awe of this royal banquet, with vulgar sweetness, skipping with excitement and her own embellishments to pronounce “I want the head of John the Baptist, on a platter.” I wonder how she responded when she was handed the head on a platter. Did this image haunt her like it haunted her step-father?
The topic for this morning is responsible power. Power is the ability to effect change or exert control over either things or people, subjects or objects. Herod is haunted by his exertion of power to destroy John. John is a prophet which means truth-teller. He told the truth to power and lost his head. What do we lose or gain when we speak the truth? Next week, Pastor Rob will address responsible power in relationship to society and justice. But I feel one cannot speak the truth to power socially until one has faced their internal power. I’m talking about facing the man in the mirror.
I was watching a news show this week that interviewed a psychologist with a theory about Michael Jackson’s numerous plastic surgeries. A photo of Michael Jackson when he was younger was aged and the result was the spitting image of his father, who had been quite abusive and pushed his career. The psychologist posed that when MJ looked in the mirror he saw his father and hated the image in the mirror so much, he wanted to change what he saw literally. When you look in the mirror, what truth about yourself, what weakness, what hidden fault do you want to erase from sight?
Who wants to face their own ugliness? Who wants to admit the messes they’ve made? We have the power of choice and like Esther or Salome; we can choose that which helps or that which harms ourselves and others. It is overwhelming to admit we are a mess and it can feel that no one, let alone God, will want us if they knew the truth. We set impossibly frustrating expectations to get our acts cleaned up and to stop feeling like “damaged goods” before receiving the love intended for us. When we’re good “God material” then we’ll get spiritual. This usually leads to quiet hopelessness and practices to drown out the nagging feeling we’re missing something with alcohol or work or responsibilities. On top of that we can manipulate the truth into unrecognizable creations, like Michael Jackson’s face, but in the end it’s still you and until you accept yourself and your mistakes as forgivable, let alone lovable, you will live as a victim of self-imposed crucifixion. Get down off that cross and use that wood for some good. There is no shame and humiliation greater than the cross of Jesus. It’s all been done for you. You don’t need to crucify yourself or become your own personal savior. Stop waiting to get pretty for God. Jesus is attracted to the unattractive.
Here’s more good news, we are forgiven then we can repent. Repentance literally means “turn around,” or “walk a new path.” In the Roman Empire, when an emperor died and a new one took his place, the word went out to all the Roman legions “Repent and believe in the new emperor!” The Gospel writers utilized this popular saying to mean “turn from the path you are on and align yourself with God!” (Bethlehem Lutheran Church, 7-5-2009) Repentance is a transformative choice about where you will invest your energy and focus in life.
Forgiveness enabling repentance is one of the great paradoxes of our faith. The honesty of facing the truth about yourself leaves you vulnerable, needy and exposed. You are loved and embraced in that moment. You are forgivable. You don’t have to wait to clean up the damage before you come to God because God’s here already and knows full well what you’ve done. You have the power wallow in what you’ve done or make a change. So, come on up to the house and join the holy truth-tellers party. We’re a raucous bunch and can sometimes lose our heads, but everyone’s welcome.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Give Her Something To Eat
Sermon based on Lamentations 3:22, Psalm 30, & Mark 5:21-43.
Today's readings speak to the presence of God in our experiences of change and crises. Lamentations assures us that God has unbreakable devotion. Lamentations 3:22 says "The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end." The word for "mercy" is based on the Hebrew word for "womb." The poet is conferring an image of God's love and mercy being so devout and connected to us it is like the unique love shared by a woman and her child int he womb. In deepest despair, crises, and confusion, God is fully present. God is eager to lead us toward wholeness and renewed hope in the midst of our grief. There is an assurance to keep the faith despite the drear of reality.
But our message goes beyond divine assurance. Psalm 30 also says God is present in our joy and in our trouble. Then, it leads us a step further from God's assurance to our response of gratitude. Theologian Walter Bruggemann proposes a cycle of orientation, disorientation, and new orientation in the psalm (The Message of the Psalms: A Theological Commentary, Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1984, p127).
Psalm 30 illustrates an orientation of having confidence in human achievement that is trashed by troubles and crises causing disorientation, followed by a new orientation of gratitude for being delivered from that state of unrest. Listen for this cycle in verse 6, 7, 11, and 12.
6While I felt secure, I said, "I shall never be disturbed. You LORD, with your favor, made me as strong as the mountains." 7Then you hid your face, and I was filled with fear...11You have turned my wailing into dancing; you have put off my sackcloth and clothed me with you. 12Therefore my heart sings to you without ceasing; O LORD my God, I will give you thanks forever.
Divine assurance and the cycle of orientation, disorientation, and new orientation are the formula that makes the backdrop for today's Gospel story in Mark 5:21-43. Here we meet characters of desperation reaching out for their last chance, named Jesus. Jairus had to be desperate. He was a leader in the synagogue, a well-respected man, whose peers most likely considered Jesus to be at least, an irritant, at most, an enemy. Why did he go to ask for Jesus' help in person, at risk of missing his precious daughter's last moments? Was it because his friends wouldn't help him in this crazy plot? It was common for children to die yound during ancient times, therefore parents tried not to form a great emotional attachment to their children. What sort of man was Jairus that he would risk political suicide to save his child, who was of all things a daughter during a time when sons were valued more? Can you imagine the anguish, the fear, the swallowing of pride he must have experienced to take this leap of faith and trust a strange healer named Jesus? Yet he did take that leap of faith and Jesus followed him to his home with a huge crowd of paprazzi swallowing in on him.
In the midst of the crowd is another character of desperation, the woman who had hemorrhaged for 12 years, the entire lifetime of Jairus' dying daughter. In Jewish tradition blood represents life. To touch the bleeding or the dead was to make one's self unclean. Therefore, this woman had lived a life of isolation and taboo. She was an outsider who broke good order by entering the crowd and touching Jesus' clothes. She disoriented the way things are supposed to be and interrupted the mission. In a sense, we are not unlike this woman. Many of us feel like the life is bleeding out of us due to being overcommitted, having our priorities in chaos, and living off fumes of energy because we haven't the time to refuel. She was losing her life every day. She tried everything she could think of to cure herself but nothing worked. It was in her state of total disorientation and desperation that she reached out and received healing. Yet Jesus did not let this transformation go unnoticed. He stopped. He gave her recognition and acknowledgement. He gave her new life. What would happen if we stopped and surrendered the things that are draining our lives? What new orientation toward life might be possible with Christ?
But maybe your life isn't oozing out of you. Maybe you are desperate because the one's you love are making life choices that are killing their spirits. Maybe you are more like Jairus, the desperate father. Can you imagine how frieghtened and impatient he must feel at this moment? Who is this Jesus? How dare he stop for an outcast woman when I need him now? Talk about a terrible political move. I doubt Jairus felt much favor for Jesus, especially when he hears his daughter is dead. His friends try to talk him out of this crazy idea telling him it's too late. But Jesus disregards this news. In fact his reaction to the news is like a line from the gospel tune, "God may not come when you call him, but he'll be there right on time!" Jesus disregards all common sense and does the non-sensical. He tells the mourners that the child is sleeping and kicks everybody out but the parents and three disciples. Such actions would earn me an "F" in pastoral care.
I am amazed by how God won't fit into our boxes of who God is and how God should behave. Jesus is a religious leader, prohibited from touching the dead, yet he taks the girl's hand and tells her to get up. Then she does just that. She arises to a new life. Think about it, no matter how dead you may feel to your life, to your faith, to your community, God is willing to reach out and touch you, with no regard to how untouchable, unworthy, or unloved you may feel. In fact if I were to create a bumper sticker for the book of Mark it would read, "I love you, whether you like it or not. - God"
With all the joy of new life and healing you would think this is the end of the story, but it is the last verse which encapsulated the third point of today's lesson in the experience of God during times of change and crises. After Jesus makes everyone swear not to talk about what has happened, probably because it was not time yet, he requests food for the girl. "Give her something to eat."
For some reason, that statement felt a bit odd. Some commentators say it was made to prove she really was alive and not a spirit because spirits can't eat. Others say eating with the family marked the girl's re-incorporation into her family and the community. But I have my own theory. Being fed is what comes next in the experience of healing and renewed life. We need to be nourished as we live in the assurance of God's steadfast love and live out the cycles of change. Our nourishment can come through connecting with community, prayer, worship, and service to others. To be fed is to live out the life of one who is loved and marked as a child of God.
So here is your bumper sticker for the day: God loves you, whether you like it or not, so now act like it.
Today's readings speak to the presence of God in our experiences of change and crises. Lamentations assures us that God has unbreakable devotion. Lamentations 3:22 says "The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end." The word for "mercy" is based on the Hebrew word for "womb." The poet is conferring an image of God's love and mercy being so devout and connected to us it is like the unique love shared by a woman and her child int he womb. In deepest despair, crises, and confusion, God is fully present. God is eager to lead us toward wholeness and renewed hope in the midst of our grief. There is an assurance to keep the faith despite the drear of reality.
But our message goes beyond divine assurance. Psalm 30 also says God is present in our joy and in our trouble. Then, it leads us a step further from God's assurance to our response of gratitude. Theologian Walter Bruggemann proposes a cycle of orientation, disorientation, and new orientation in the psalm (The Message of the Psalms: A Theological Commentary, Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1984, p127).
Psalm 30 illustrates an orientation of having confidence in human achievement that is trashed by troubles and crises causing disorientation, followed by a new orientation of gratitude for being delivered from that state of unrest. Listen for this cycle in verse 6, 7, 11, and 12.
6While I felt secure, I said, "I shall never be disturbed. You LORD, with your favor, made me as strong as the mountains." 7Then you hid your face, and I was filled with fear...11You have turned my wailing into dancing; you have put off my sackcloth and clothed me with you. 12Therefore my heart sings to you without ceasing; O LORD my God, I will give you thanks forever.
Divine assurance and the cycle of orientation, disorientation, and new orientation are the formula that makes the backdrop for today's Gospel story in Mark 5:21-43. Here we meet characters of desperation reaching out for their last chance, named Jesus. Jairus had to be desperate. He was a leader in the synagogue, a well-respected man, whose peers most likely considered Jesus to be at least, an irritant, at most, an enemy. Why did he go to ask for Jesus' help in person, at risk of missing his precious daughter's last moments? Was it because his friends wouldn't help him in this crazy plot? It was common for children to die yound during ancient times, therefore parents tried not to form a great emotional attachment to their children. What sort of man was Jairus that he would risk political suicide to save his child, who was of all things a daughter during a time when sons were valued more? Can you imagine the anguish, the fear, the swallowing of pride he must have experienced to take this leap of faith and trust a strange healer named Jesus? Yet he did take that leap of faith and Jesus followed him to his home with a huge crowd of paprazzi swallowing in on him.
In the midst of the crowd is another character of desperation, the woman who had hemorrhaged for 12 years, the entire lifetime of Jairus' dying daughter. In Jewish tradition blood represents life. To touch the bleeding or the dead was to make one's self unclean. Therefore, this woman had lived a life of isolation and taboo. She was an outsider who broke good order by entering the crowd and touching Jesus' clothes. She disoriented the way things are supposed to be and interrupted the mission. In a sense, we are not unlike this woman. Many of us feel like the life is bleeding out of us due to being overcommitted, having our priorities in chaos, and living off fumes of energy because we haven't the time to refuel. She was losing her life every day. She tried everything she could think of to cure herself but nothing worked. It was in her state of total disorientation and desperation that she reached out and received healing. Yet Jesus did not let this transformation go unnoticed. He stopped. He gave her recognition and acknowledgement. He gave her new life. What would happen if we stopped and surrendered the things that are draining our lives? What new orientation toward life might be possible with Christ?
But maybe your life isn't oozing out of you. Maybe you are desperate because the one's you love are making life choices that are killing their spirits. Maybe you are more like Jairus, the desperate father. Can you imagine how frieghtened and impatient he must feel at this moment? Who is this Jesus? How dare he stop for an outcast woman when I need him now? Talk about a terrible political move. I doubt Jairus felt much favor for Jesus, especially when he hears his daughter is dead. His friends try to talk him out of this crazy idea telling him it's too late. But Jesus disregards this news. In fact his reaction to the news is like a line from the gospel tune, "God may not come when you call him, but he'll be there right on time!" Jesus disregards all common sense and does the non-sensical. He tells the mourners that the child is sleeping and kicks everybody out but the parents and three disciples. Such actions would earn me an "F" in pastoral care.
I am amazed by how God won't fit into our boxes of who God is and how God should behave. Jesus is a religious leader, prohibited from touching the dead, yet he taks the girl's hand and tells her to get up. Then she does just that. She arises to a new life. Think about it, no matter how dead you may feel to your life, to your faith, to your community, God is willing to reach out and touch you, with no regard to how untouchable, unworthy, or unloved you may feel. In fact if I were to create a bumper sticker for the book of Mark it would read, "I love you, whether you like it or not. - God"
With all the joy of new life and healing you would think this is the end of the story, but it is the last verse which encapsulated the third point of today's lesson in the experience of God during times of change and crises. After Jesus makes everyone swear not to talk about what has happened, probably because it was not time yet, he requests food for the girl. "Give her something to eat."
For some reason, that statement felt a bit odd. Some commentators say it was made to prove she really was alive and not a spirit because spirits can't eat. Others say eating with the family marked the girl's re-incorporation into her family and the community. But I have my own theory. Being fed is what comes next in the experience of healing and renewed life. We need to be nourished as we live in the assurance of God's steadfast love and live out the cycles of change. Our nourishment can come through connecting with community, prayer, worship, and service to others. To be fed is to live out the life of one who is loved and marked as a child of God.
So here is your bumper sticker for the day: God loves you, whether you like it or not, so now act like it.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Living a Weed Life
Here is a message I wrote for supply preaching I'm providing. Never thought much about weeds.
Over the years I have heard the stories of Jesus' parables, like Mark 4:30-32, and thought nothing of them. However, I am aware that a parable is a teaching tool that presents a dilemma to grapple with. They are supposed to make us squirm and have shock value. So I am perplexed as to what is disturbing about the kingdom of God being like planting a tiny mustard seed that grows into a great bush, which shelters the birds of the air. That's not shocking. Obviously this text lacks relevance to a postmodern world. Or does it?
Did you know that the mustard bush was considered an out-of-control, pungent weed one would never intentionally plant? In fact, according to ancient Greek and Jewish gardening manuals, mustard was to be kept separate from other plants because it took over the garden. It was a common plant that could grow to a height of six feet or more. Mustard is an aggressive, undesirable weed. It takes over where it is not wanted, gets out of control, and attracts birds into areas being cultivated for particular crops farmers didn't want the birds eating up. So Jesus is saying that God's rule is like an idiot planting a weed that is invasive, impossible to remove, prolific beyond measure, taking over where it is not wanted and providing a home for pesky birds. In other words, the Kingdom of God is like a lawn of dandelions and crab grass. So, now are you feeling some parabolic shock?
Someone once said a weed is just a flower that is a victim of prejudice. Well yes, weeds are plants, and usually a plant that is growing eagerly with great ease in a place it is not supposed to be in. It is out of good order. I remember an example of this from walking the bean fields when I was a kid, hoeing weeds. I remember pulling corn stalks that were the previous year's crop in the current bean field. It always struck me as funny that one year's crop was next year's weed. Maybe weeds are just a matter of perspective.
From what I've come to know about God's ways, being asked to live a weed's life makes perfect sense. God is an extravagant giver of grace and love to those who don't earn it or deserve it. God repeatedly chooses the youngest, the weakest, and the lowest to become the greatest of leaders and prophets. There are stories upon stories in the Bible of God thinking outside the expected God box. Again and again, as we expect God to be remote, dignified, rational and predictable, we get the wild, extravagant, uncontrollable experience of a personal creator, radical savior, and irrational spirit.
God won't fit in our box of judgments and predictabilities and that is an unsettling thought. Deep down there is an innate fear of letting go of the control we suppose ourselves to have. The truth, we try to plan and plant a perfect garden life, but we can't control the frost or drought or rabbits from invading and disrupting our perfect plans. Nor do we win the battle against those invasive weeds with plans of their own. Could it be that living life in God's rule means we don't have control over how perfect our life is going to look to the rest of the world? It may mean looking like a weed, a cornstalk in a field of beans.
Another aspect of this parable's challenge for us and our control is the common interpretation that it is about smallness, in little steps and small hopes progressing on a path that leads to greatness. This parable is a testimony to the power of our focus and faith. Just as this is a testimony to the power of God's rule in our lives it can be a testimony to that which we would be more apt to call weeds, the things that choke us and suffocate our ability to love and live life abundantly. What small, insignificant thing are you focusing on and putting your faith in?
When we worry and fill our minds and hearts with anxiety, frustration, and fear of failure, we open ourselves to be changed in ways that hold us back and keep us from experiencing the abundant grace God offers. Now imagine making one very tiny attempt to pray about your fear, to plant a seed of hope even though all looks absolutely hopeless and you're not really sure you believe anything good could possibly come of your bad. It's just a tiny seed of a weed covered by cemented perfectionism, estrangement from God, loneliness, addiction, grief, or worry. Then let it be and see that hopeful weed find its way to grow through the tiniest of cracks. It is uncontrolled growth, passion beyond common sense, invasive love and grace for you and for me. It's a personal Creator who sees the pain of her creation and pays the debt himself. Imagine a tiny seed of faith leaving a pile of broken cement at the foot of a cross.
I know it is shocking to think of God's rule being like a weed. The traditional thought is found in our text from Ezekiel this morning. The Kingdom of God is like a mighty cedar tree. Isn't that more what we expect? We want a strong, tall, mighty God life to depend on. But here's a thought. How do you get rid of a cedar tree? You cut it down. The cedar is easy to fall and they never re-grow from the stump. Now how do you get rid of a weed? Yes, a shot of Weed-be-Gone works for a year, but what about the next year? There's always another weed. They just keep coming back.
You know that actually gives me comfort. Jesus may not be offering a l ife of mighty power and greatness like the cedar, but he is offering a life that lasts and keeps coming back no matter what we do to keep God out. Always there is a God of forgiveness, love, shelter and shade when we tire of our weary lives. So when you feel willing to surrender and take a rest from being in control, consider these words of assurance, "Come all ye who are weary and I shall give you rest. Oh and by the way, I'm not going away."
Over the years I have heard the stories of Jesus' parables, like Mark 4:30-32, and thought nothing of them. However, I am aware that a parable is a teaching tool that presents a dilemma to grapple with. They are supposed to make us squirm and have shock value. So I am perplexed as to what is disturbing about the kingdom of God being like planting a tiny mustard seed that grows into a great bush, which shelters the birds of the air. That's not shocking. Obviously this text lacks relevance to a postmodern world. Or does it?
Did you know that the mustard bush was considered an out-of-control, pungent weed one would never intentionally plant? In fact, according to ancient Greek and Jewish gardening manuals, mustard was to be kept separate from other plants because it took over the garden. It was a common plant that could grow to a height of six feet or more. Mustard is an aggressive, undesirable weed. It takes over where it is not wanted, gets out of control, and attracts birds into areas being cultivated for particular crops farmers didn't want the birds eating up. So Jesus is saying that God's rule is like an idiot planting a weed that is invasive, impossible to remove, prolific beyond measure, taking over where it is not wanted and providing a home for pesky birds. In other words, the Kingdom of God is like a lawn of dandelions and crab grass. So, now are you feeling some parabolic shock?
Someone once said a weed is just a flower that is a victim of prejudice. Well yes, weeds are plants, and usually a plant that is growing eagerly with great ease in a place it is not supposed to be in. It is out of good order. I remember an example of this from walking the bean fields when I was a kid, hoeing weeds. I remember pulling corn stalks that were the previous year's crop in the current bean field. It always struck me as funny that one year's crop was next year's weed. Maybe weeds are just a matter of perspective.
From what I've come to know about God's ways, being asked to live a weed's life makes perfect sense. God is an extravagant giver of grace and love to those who don't earn it or deserve it. God repeatedly chooses the youngest, the weakest, and the lowest to become the greatest of leaders and prophets. There are stories upon stories in the Bible of God thinking outside the expected God box. Again and again, as we expect God to be remote, dignified, rational and predictable, we get the wild, extravagant, uncontrollable experience of a personal creator, radical savior, and irrational spirit.
God won't fit in our box of judgments and predictabilities and that is an unsettling thought. Deep down there is an innate fear of letting go of the control we suppose ourselves to have. The truth, we try to plan and plant a perfect garden life, but we can't control the frost or drought or rabbits from invading and disrupting our perfect plans. Nor do we win the battle against those invasive weeds with plans of their own. Could it be that living life in God's rule means we don't have control over how perfect our life is going to look to the rest of the world? It may mean looking like a weed, a cornstalk in a field of beans.
Another aspect of this parable's challenge for us and our control is the common interpretation that it is about smallness, in little steps and small hopes progressing on a path that leads to greatness. This parable is a testimony to the power of our focus and faith. Just as this is a testimony to the power of God's rule in our lives it can be a testimony to that which we would be more apt to call weeds, the things that choke us and suffocate our ability to love and live life abundantly. What small, insignificant thing are you focusing on and putting your faith in?
When we worry and fill our minds and hearts with anxiety, frustration, and fear of failure, we open ourselves to be changed in ways that hold us back and keep us from experiencing the abundant grace God offers. Now imagine making one very tiny attempt to pray about your fear, to plant a seed of hope even though all looks absolutely hopeless and you're not really sure you believe anything good could possibly come of your bad. It's just a tiny seed of a weed covered by cemented perfectionism, estrangement from God, loneliness, addiction, grief, or worry. Then let it be and see that hopeful weed find its way to grow through the tiniest of cracks. It is uncontrolled growth, passion beyond common sense, invasive love and grace for you and for me. It's a personal Creator who sees the pain of her creation and pays the debt himself. Imagine a tiny seed of faith leaving a pile of broken cement at the foot of a cross.
I know it is shocking to think of God's rule being like a weed. The traditional thought is found in our text from Ezekiel this morning. The Kingdom of God is like a mighty cedar tree. Isn't that more what we expect? We want a strong, tall, mighty God life to depend on. But here's a thought. How do you get rid of a cedar tree? You cut it down. The cedar is easy to fall and they never re-grow from the stump. Now how do you get rid of a weed? Yes, a shot of Weed-be-Gone works for a year, but what about the next year? There's always another weed. They just keep coming back.
You know that actually gives me comfort. Jesus may not be offering a l ife of mighty power and greatness like the cedar, but he is offering a life that lasts and keeps coming back no matter what we do to keep God out. Always there is a God of forgiveness, love, shelter and shade when we tire of our weary lives. So when you feel willing to surrender and take a rest from being in control, consider these words of assurance, "Come all ye who are weary and I shall give you rest. Oh and by the way, I'm not going away."
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Not Justus...Acts 1:15-17; 21-26
This week was reality TV competitions’ season finales. I was a fan of American Idol and enjoyed Tuesday’s singing dual between Adam Lambert the glam rocker and Chris Allen the acoustic rocker. America voted and Adam is NOT the next American Idol.
In the scripture today we hear a story about the disciple’s reality competition for who would be the next 12th disciple. Prior to this moment Judas, of the original 12, had betrayed Jesus and was now dead. Jesus had risen and had stayed with all the disciples, men and women not just the 12, for forty days to help them understand “by many convincing proofs” that he was alive, real, and death could not hold him. At the end of the 40 days Luke tells us of his Ascension, that he is lifted up to the heavens. At that time, Jesus provides his followers with reassurance: “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you and you will be my witnesses…to the ends of the earth.” (Acts 1:8) Ten days later the Spirit descends from the heavens on Pentecost and anoints the disciples.
Sandwiched between these two mountain top experiences is a little church administrative business that needed taking care of. As a church administrative worker I get an extra kick out of this. You see there really is value in having good order and preparation for the future. Or at least Peter thought so. Peter steps up to remind all those gathered that they had to fill a gap and add an apostle to bring them back to the number 12, which was reflective of the 12 tribes of Israel. The candidates were required to not only be followers of Jesus, but to have been with him from the beginning of his public ministry, starting from John’s baptism right up to the recent Ascension. Amid the 120 gathered, two candidates were chosen. Verse 23 sets us up a bit to expect the election of Joseph called Barsabbas, called Justus and not Matthias because he seems to be the one better known and certainly chummier with folks. He had a nickname, like many of the 11 disciples did. Nonetheless, both were qualified, impassioned, and knew God’s purpose in their lives – to share the story of Jesus and the difference it made in their lives and the lives of others. So with prayers for God’s will to be done, for the great heart-knower to select the one who would replace Judas, Justus’ and Matthias’ names were carved in stone, placed in a container and shaken until one stone fell out. “And the lot fell on Matthias.” (Acts 1:26)
Somehow that sounds more ominous than being crowned the next American Idol. Not much is known about Matthias. There are speculations that he was a missionary to the Ethiopians, others that he stayed in Jerusalem witnessing to the power of the resurrected Christ in obviously quiet ways for we never hear another word about him again.
Nor do we ever hear about Justus again. No not JUSTICE, but JUSTUS. Here is an individual who had been there from the beginning. With all those nicknames he was probably a likeable fellow. Did he long to be part of the inner circle after all those years and trials? Of course he did. Anyone with his passion and devotion would have. But the lot was cast against him. That’s rough. It’s one thing to come in second when America votes, imagine being the one God didn’t choose. Have you ever done the work but not gotten what you thought you deserved. Or just had the odds against you? Your company lays off five people and you’re one of the five. You interview for a job and make it to the top two and are not chosen. After all the work, preparation, high hopes, the disappointment is mind-boggling. Justus may have had any of our very human responses to disappointment because Justus was “just us,” all of us who have thought they were on the right path only to have everything change and wondered “what’s up with that?”. He could have felt hurt, become critical, or let his pride hold him back from living out his passion to witness and minister. Because we never hear another word about Justus, and Luke was known to report the flaws of Christ’s followers, I’m guessing he didn’t behave badly. Maybe he just bounced back, giving Matthias a big hug and saying “I’ll support you in every way, brother.” Whether Justus had a new title and became part of the elite 12 or not, he still knew who he was and what God had placed in his heart to do. With or without a title, Justus would be a disciple of Jesus Christ and a witness to a life-changing story. He was a servant of God.
I thought about that idea of knowing your heart’s desire and making the decision to act upon it when I was watching American Idol. At the beginning of the season you encounter plenty of contestants who are, shall we say misdirected. As the season comes to a close you can discern that whether a finalist won Idol or not, they each knew they were musicians and entertainers and would keep being that with or without a title. Yet discerning our path in life is not always so clear. We use the best decision-making process we know when discerning our purpose in life and why we are here. Often times it is much later before we see the hand of God at work in matters. In Acts 1:24 the disciples pray “You Lord, who know the hearts of all…” Cardiognostis is the Greek word to be exact. It means “heart-knower.” They set an example for us when seeking to understand the desires of our hearts, the direction or next steps for our lives. They prayed to the great “heart-knower.” Yet, God just doesn’t whisper in your ear, not even for the 11 disciples of Christ and they were pretty tight with the Father. We don’t always know at that moment whether God is in what we’re doing or what we decide. As I read about this story in Acts I discovered an ongoing argument about whether the disciple’s made the right choice in their decision-making process for seeking a 12th disciple. Some say the disciples chose Matthias, but God chose Paul, the last guy in the world to be considered for the position. Maybe that’s why we never hear another word about Matthias. He was no Paul. The disciples did the best they could in discerning God’s will, just as we do. We choose, we decide, and we act and we do so in confidence.
Yes, bold decision-making is a funny thing about being a follower of God. You see, we can pray and pray for God’s specific will to be known, and sometimes have our prayers answered, and sometimes not know with any certainty what path to take. But as Martin Luther advised, we will have to choose boldly our path, knowing that God’s forgiving love will sustain us in the midst of our messy lives and our many decisions. Our bad decisions do not separate us from God.
It’s hard to know the will of God, to be certain we are on the right path, to understand the desires of our hearts being unfulfilled and the work we do going unrewarded. Take action anyway, make decisions anyway for the great heart-knower is listening. Every act made in faith to love God and your neighbor, every decision made in rest, reflection, and prayer is cast in the framework of God’s will with the promise of Christ’s compassion.
In the scripture today we hear a story about the disciple’s reality competition for who would be the next 12th disciple. Prior to this moment Judas, of the original 12, had betrayed Jesus and was now dead. Jesus had risen and had stayed with all the disciples, men and women not just the 12, for forty days to help them understand “by many convincing proofs” that he was alive, real, and death could not hold him. At the end of the 40 days Luke tells us of his Ascension, that he is lifted up to the heavens. At that time, Jesus provides his followers with reassurance: “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you and you will be my witnesses…to the ends of the earth.” (Acts 1:8) Ten days later the Spirit descends from the heavens on Pentecost and anoints the disciples.
Sandwiched between these two mountain top experiences is a little church administrative business that needed taking care of. As a church administrative worker I get an extra kick out of this. You see there really is value in having good order and preparation for the future. Or at least Peter thought so. Peter steps up to remind all those gathered that they had to fill a gap and add an apostle to bring them back to the number 12, which was reflective of the 12 tribes of Israel. The candidates were required to not only be followers of Jesus, but to have been with him from the beginning of his public ministry, starting from John’s baptism right up to the recent Ascension. Amid the 120 gathered, two candidates were chosen. Verse 23 sets us up a bit to expect the election of Joseph called Barsabbas, called Justus and not Matthias because he seems to be the one better known and certainly chummier with folks. He had a nickname, like many of the 11 disciples did. Nonetheless, both were qualified, impassioned, and knew God’s purpose in their lives – to share the story of Jesus and the difference it made in their lives and the lives of others. So with prayers for God’s will to be done, for the great heart-knower to select the one who would replace Judas, Justus’ and Matthias’ names were carved in stone, placed in a container and shaken until one stone fell out. “And the lot fell on Matthias.” (Acts 1:26)
Somehow that sounds more ominous than being crowned the next American Idol. Not much is known about Matthias. There are speculations that he was a missionary to the Ethiopians, others that he stayed in Jerusalem witnessing to the power of the resurrected Christ in obviously quiet ways for we never hear another word about him again.
Nor do we ever hear about Justus again. No not JUSTICE, but JUSTUS. Here is an individual who had been there from the beginning. With all those nicknames he was probably a likeable fellow. Did he long to be part of the inner circle after all those years and trials? Of course he did. Anyone with his passion and devotion would have. But the lot was cast against him. That’s rough. It’s one thing to come in second when America votes, imagine being the one God didn’t choose. Have you ever done the work but not gotten what you thought you deserved. Or just had the odds against you? Your company lays off five people and you’re one of the five. You interview for a job and make it to the top two and are not chosen. After all the work, preparation, high hopes, the disappointment is mind-boggling. Justus may have had any of our very human responses to disappointment because Justus was “just us,” all of us who have thought they were on the right path only to have everything change and wondered “what’s up with that?”. He could have felt hurt, become critical, or let his pride hold him back from living out his passion to witness and minister. Because we never hear another word about Justus, and Luke was known to report the flaws of Christ’s followers, I’m guessing he didn’t behave badly. Maybe he just bounced back, giving Matthias a big hug and saying “I’ll support you in every way, brother.” Whether Justus had a new title and became part of the elite 12 or not, he still knew who he was and what God had placed in his heart to do. With or without a title, Justus would be a disciple of Jesus Christ and a witness to a life-changing story. He was a servant of God.
I thought about that idea of knowing your heart’s desire and making the decision to act upon it when I was watching American Idol. At the beginning of the season you encounter plenty of contestants who are, shall we say misdirected. As the season comes to a close you can discern that whether a finalist won Idol or not, they each knew they were musicians and entertainers and would keep being that with or without a title. Yet discerning our path in life is not always so clear. We use the best decision-making process we know when discerning our purpose in life and why we are here. Often times it is much later before we see the hand of God at work in matters. In Acts 1:24 the disciples pray “You Lord, who know the hearts of all…” Cardiognostis is the Greek word to be exact. It means “heart-knower.” They set an example for us when seeking to understand the desires of our hearts, the direction or next steps for our lives. They prayed to the great “heart-knower.” Yet, God just doesn’t whisper in your ear, not even for the 11 disciples of Christ and they were pretty tight with the Father. We don’t always know at that moment whether God is in what we’re doing or what we decide. As I read about this story in Acts I discovered an ongoing argument about whether the disciple’s made the right choice in their decision-making process for seeking a 12th disciple. Some say the disciples chose Matthias, but God chose Paul, the last guy in the world to be considered for the position. Maybe that’s why we never hear another word about Matthias. He was no Paul. The disciples did the best they could in discerning God’s will, just as we do. We choose, we decide, and we act and we do so in confidence.
Yes, bold decision-making is a funny thing about being a follower of God. You see, we can pray and pray for God’s specific will to be known, and sometimes have our prayers answered, and sometimes not know with any certainty what path to take. But as Martin Luther advised, we will have to choose boldly our path, knowing that God’s forgiving love will sustain us in the midst of our messy lives and our many decisions. Our bad decisions do not separate us from God.
It’s hard to know the will of God, to be certain we are on the right path, to understand the desires of our hearts being unfulfilled and the work we do going unrewarded. Take action anyway, make decisions anyway for the great heart-knower is listening. Every act made in faith to love God and your neighbor, every decision made in rest, reflection, and prayer is cast in the framework of God’s will with the promise of Christ’s compassion.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
No Word for Goodbye
Thursday, January 29
I began today with a small group determined to finish our projects at the worksite. I am quite sore from laying flooring, but satisfied with the results. Our guest for lunch was Pinky Clifford, a store owner who has followed her passion and hope in providing native housing through Partnership for Housing. http://friendsofpineridgereservation.org/organizations/OST-Partnership-for-Housing-Inc.shtml
Her energy and hope was inspiring.
A couple classmates and I walked to a Native owned gas station for ice cream and then to Higher Ground for some good coffee. Somehow the afternoon passed by and it was time for Children's hour. It was sad to realize we wouldn't see these kids again. They grew on us, what can I say.
The evening included dinner with Asa and Tresita Wilson and a closing communion service. Asa shared that there is no word for "goodbye" in Lakota. The closest word means "until we meet again or I will see you again." I have an idea this is not an end of my visits to Pine Ridge, but rather a beginning of future meeting again.
Tomorrow we leave at 6:00am for our homes. Pray for safe journeys.
I began today with a small group determined to finish our projects at the worksite. I am quite sore from laying flooring, but satisfied with the results. Our guest for lunch was Pinky Clifford, a store owner who has followed her passion and hope in providing native housing through Partnership for Housing. http://friendsofpineridger
Her energy and hope was inspiring.
A couple classmates and I walked to a Native owned gas station for ice cream and then to Higher Ground for some good coffee. Somehow the afternoon passed by and it was time for Children's hour. It was sad to realize we wouldn't see these kids again. They grew on us, what can I say.
The evening included dinner with Asa and Tresita Wilson and a closing communion service. Asa shared that there is no word for "goodbye" in Lakota. The closest word means "until we meet again or I will see you again." I have an idea this is not an end of my visits to Pine Ridge, but rather a beginning of future meeting again.
Tomorrow we leave at 6:00am for our homes. Pray for safe journeys.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Theology of the Cross at Pine Ridge
I woke up this morning with a sore throat. Since colds have been taking people down one by one, I was not thrilled. We met as a group to open conversation and process some of what we have experienced these two weeks. Then we were off to SuAnne Big Crow Boys and Girls Club.
SuAnne was a true leader. An athlete who averaged 39 points per basketball game, one of the top four scorers in SD history. SuAnne was killed in a car accident when she was 17 years old. Her family decided to carry on her legacy of promoting drug and alcohol free lifestyle, athletic fitness, and academic excellence by creating a safe place for kids. Check out the website. It's really an amazing story. I'm surprised there isn't a Disney movie yet.
Following lunch at HappyTown at SuAnne Big Crow Boys and Girls Club, there was time for a nap to take care of myself before Children's Hour. Today we had Children's Hour, worship, and supper. We took the kids to go feed the buffalo at a neighbor's ranch. Two white buffalo calves were born to this rancher and we heard the story of the White Buffalo Calf Woman.
Some folks fed the buffalo by hand and some dared to stick the buffalo food cube in their mouths and feed them by mouth. Um, I bypassed the Buffalo Kiss option. But I have some fun pictures.
Quickly after the kids returned home, we traveled to the Boys and Girls dorms at Pine Ridge school to celebrate winter birthdays. The evening concluded with a talking circle. Whew, that is a full day.
There are so many layers and facets to the socio-political-economic-spiritual issues and topics here. Where does one begin? I've witnessed hope rise out of tragedy in the story of SuAnne Big Crow. I've heard vision and hope in the story of White Buffalo Calf Woman bringing the prayer pipe, 7 religious rites, and the medicine wheel. I've tried to find Christ in culture and seen a Lakota Jesus in the Stations of the Cross. Now, since I am a Lutheran, it's time to talk about Theology of the Cross.
According to an article by Gerhard Forde, Theology of the Cross "is a particular perception of the world and our destiny, what Luther came to call looking at all things through suffering and the cross. It has to do with what he referred to often as the question of usus, the way the cross is put to use in our lives."
Deaths of someone you know is a common occurrence here. Children from little on attend wakes. Sometimes there is a Christian burial, someones traditional, and sometimes both. The shadow of Wounded Knee weighs like a heavy blanket over all vision for the future. I see the cross, the place of death, the place of revelation and truth-telling here. I see true humanity revealed in those who live there lives to be role models and visionaries and those who are angry, bitter, and suffocating.
Robert Kolb writes in his article on theology of the cross "The cross reminds us that “ ‘we live on borrowed time’—time lent us by the Creator.Yet we also see in the death of Jesus on the cross our rebellion against that life, and we note that there is absolutely no way out now except one. God vindicated the crucified Jesus by raising him from the dead. So the question and the hope come to us.‘If we die with him, shall we not also live with him?’ In the cross we recognize not only the awful truth but also the wonderful truth about ourselves."
The truth is we are children of God capable of love, peace and joy, plagued by evil, injustice, and oppression. The truth is God reveals himself as a person of love and mercy in the midst of our tragedies. When we question human value and worth, the economics of God are irrational and radical for they come in the death of what we value most so that we can experience a revelation beyond our conception. The Lakota way is to know that all things happen for a reason. If one were to judge human life from the basis of God's presence in human life and God's love for creation, we might find all things happen for a reason to be a relevant cross-view.
SuAnne was a true leader. An athlete who averaged 39 points per basketball game, one of the top four scorers in SD history. SuAnne was killed in a car accident when she was 17 years old. Her family decided to carry on her legacy of promoting drug and alcohol free lifestyle, athletic fitness, and academic excellence by creating a safe place for kids. Check out the website. It's really an amazing story. I'm surprised there isn't a Disney movie yet.
Following lunch at HappyTown at SuAnne Big Crow Boys and Girls Club, there was time for a nap to take care of myself before Children's Hour. Today we had Children's Hour, worship, and supper. We took the kids to go feed the buffalo at a neighbor's ranch. Two white buffalo calves were born to this rancher and we heard the story of the White Buffalo Calf Woman.
Some folks fed the buffalo by hand and some dared to stick the buffalo food cube in their mouths and feed them by mouth. Um, I bypassed the Buffalo Kiss option. But I have some fun pictures.
Quickly after the kids returned home, we traveled to the Boys and Girls dorms at Pine Ridge school to celebrate winter birthdays. The evening concluded with a talking circle. Whew, that is a full day.
There are so many layers and facets to the socio-political-economic-s
According to an article by Gerhard Forde, Theology of the Cross "is a particular perception of the world and our destiny, what Luther came to call looking at all things through suffering and the cross. It has to do with what he referred to often as the question of usus, the way the cross is put to use in our lives."
Deaths of someone you know is a common occurrence here. Children from little on attend wakes. Sometimes there is a Christian burial, someones traditional, and sometimes both. The shadow of Wounded Knee weighs like a heavy blanket over all vision for the future. I see the cross, the place of death, the place of revelation and truth-telling here. I see true humanity revealed in those who live there lives to be role models and visionaries and those who are angry, bitter, and suffocating.
Robert Kolb writes in his article on theology of the cross "The cross reminds us that “ ‘we live on borrowed time’—time lent us by the Creator.Yet we also see in the death of Jesus on the cross our rebellion against that life, and we note that there is absolutely no way out now except one. God vindicated the crucified Jesus by raising him from the dead. So the question and the hope come to us.‘If we die with him, shall we not also live with him?’ In the cross we recognize not only the awful truth but also the wonderful truth about ourselves."
The truth is we are children of God capable of love, peace and joy, plagued by evil, injustice, and oppression. The truth is God reveals himself as a person of love and mercy in the midst of our tragedies. When we question human value and worth, the economics of God are irrational and radical for they come in the death of what we value most so that we can experience a revelation beyond our conception. The Lakota way is to know that all things happen for a reason. If one were to judge human life from the basis of God's presence in human life and God's love for creation, we might find all things happen for a reason to be a relevant cross-view.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Theology Lakota Style
Today we accomplished a lot of work laying flooring. A classmate and I went to Higher Ground Coffee House for some gourmet coffee. This is a Lakota run business and Christian ministry. We spent a few hours visiting with the owner. Now I can say I've heard a full circle of opinions concerning culture and religion this week for I have heard those who say Lakota spirituality and Christianity should be separate and those who strive for balance and integration.
After children's hour, we shared a meal of Indian Tacos with Pastor Asa & Tresita Wilson and Kelly & Suzie Looking Horse. Following the meal we made dream catchers. http://www.wldwind.com/lhorse.htm
Today I thought a lot about the words and concepts I've been hearing. Language is a great pathway for understanding a culture. This week I have prayed often in words I did not understand. I have heard cultural theology explained and wondered how to integrate Christ and culture. Yesterday when we visited Red Cloud School, we toured Holy Rosary chapel. The tour guide explained how their philosophy is to balance one's Catholicism/Christianity with one's Lakota identity. An example was the artwork for the Stations of the Cross. Three artists created paintings in which Jesus was Lakota and the soldiers were portrayed as Calvary or Crow, who were both historical enemies.
The words I've heard this week were Lakota of the L dialect. However, I grew up in Dakota territory, which is the D dialect. In Canada one would meet Nakota who speak the N dialect. Even dialects can create differences in culture and understandings of tradition.
So what about Lakota Theology? I found a website that listed a few terms or concepts in catechetical terms that I've heard this week that illustrate the complexities of belief. http://www.bluecloud.org/41.html
1. WAKAN -- Sacred, Holy
Wakantanka -- wicasa wakan -- sunka wakan
People are wakan -- and some places too
Other words: Unktomi, Witko denote kinds of spirits.
2. Creation -- starts in Black Hills
3. Sin -- Moon was unfaithful, so she must again and again cover her face.
4. Prayer -- Hambleciya -- Prayer stones
5. Penance -- Sweat Bath -- Sun Dance.
6. Community -- Oyate -- Tiyospaye.
7. Priesthood -- Wicasawakan -- had much Wasagiya
8. Worship -- Sacred Pipe
Flags at the Sacred Spot: (Four colors of the Medicine Wheel)
West --- Black -- Confrontation -- War
North -- Red ---- Control ----------- Law
East ---- White -- Renewal ---------- Spirit
South -- Yellow - Quiet ------------- Unity
9. After life -- No Hell -- Life -- Eating with the dead (Preparing and sharing a meal with all at a funeral)
Around the turn of the century Native American education was established to "kill the Indian, save the man." The culture was kept alive through an underground effort. Like an honorable warrior, this culture bears its scars with humility.
Personally, I am nobody. I am a sinner who falls down and gets back up. But, I do believe in a Christ who frees the oppressed, who liberates the bound, who befriends the outsider. So if Jesus is alive anywhere, why not here?
After children's hour, we shared a meal of Indian Tacos with Pastor Asa & Tresita Wilson and Kelly & Suzie Looking Horse. Following the meal we made dream catchers. http://www.wldwind.com/lho
Today I thought a lot about the words and concepts I've been hearing. Language is a great pathway for understanding a culture. This week I have prayed often in words I did not understand. I have heard cultural theology explained and wondered how to integrate Christ and culture. Yesterday when we visited Red Cloud School, we toured Holy Rosary chapel. The tour guide explained how their philosophy is to balance one's Catholicism/Christianity with one's Lakota identity. An example was the artwork for the Stations of the Cross. Three artists created paintings in which Jesus was Lakota and the soldiers were portrayed as Calvary or Crow, who were both historical enemies.
The words I've heard this week were Lakota of the L dialect. However, I grew up in Dakota territory, which is the D dialect. In Canada one would meet Nakota who speak the N dialect. Even dialects can create differences in culture and understandings of tradition.
So what about Lakota Theology? I found a website that listed a few terms or concepts in catechetical terms that I've heard this week that illustrate the complexities of belief. http://www.bluecloud.org/4
1. WAKAN -- Sacred, Holy
Wakantanka -- wicasa wakan -- sunka wakan
People are wakan -- and some places too
Other words: Unktomi, Witko denote kinds of spirits.
2. Creation -- starts in Black Hills
3. Sin -- Moon was unfaithful, so she must again and again cover her face.
4. Prayer -- Hambleciya -- Prayer stones
5. Penance -- Sweat Bath -- Sun Dance.
6. Community -- Oyate -- Tiyospaye.
7. Priesthood -- Wicasawakan -- had much Wasagiya
8. Worship -- Sacred Pipe
Flags at the Sacred Spot: (Four colors of the Medicine Wheel)
West --- Black -- Confrontation -- War
North -- Red ---- Control ----------- Law
East ---- White -- Renewal ---------- Spirit
South -- Yellow - Quiet ------------- Unity
9. After life -- No Hell -- Life -- Eating with the dead (Preparing and sharing a meal with all at a funeral)
Around the turn of the century Native American education was established to "kill the Indian, save the man." The culture was kept alive through an underground effort. Like an honorable warrior, this culture bears its scars with humility.
Personally, I am nobody. I am a sinner who falls down and gets back up. But, I do believe in a Christ who frees the oppressed, who liberates the bound, who befriends the outsider. So if Jesus is alive anywhere, why not here?
Monday, January 26, 2009
Red Cloud Indian School
Monday, January 26
A few of us went to the work site this morning and I continued to help with laying flooring. It was cold, very cold. After about three hours we joined the rest of the group (a few folks have had bad colds to deal with) and received a tour of Red Cloud School and Heritage Center.The museum was amazing and I would love to visit in the summer for the art show. Over 600 students attend from miles away and the school is known for its record in academic excellence.
When we returned the the retreat center, I was exhausted and ended up napping through childrens' time. Our evening was free and we traveled into Nebraska to go out for supper. It was nice to have an evening of silliness in the midst of all this cause for reflection. I'm afraid the well of deep thoughts is feeling rather shallow tonight. I think rest deserve more respect so that is my plan. Tomorrow calls for more work and more learning. So blessings and good night.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Come Together and Woyatan
Through the flurries of snow we attend two worship services this Sunday. First we traveled to Oglala for worship at Makasan Presbyterian church. Due to the weather there were few in attendance. We sang hymns from the Dakota hymnal, which includes a collection of familiar hymns translated into Lakota. Louis Garcia writes in the article "The History of Customs of the Spirit Lake Dakota" an interesting story about the translation of hymns into Dakota and Ojibwe since the 1840's.
"This is the setting for our story.
A single wakeya (conical tent made of hides) was situated deep in the woods. The husband and perhaps the oldest son were off hunting. As was the custom they would not return home until they harvested some animal for food. Only the faithful wife and children were home. At dusk as they huddled around the small fire within the tent, the wife heard some thing outside. Not wanting to alarm the children she said nothing, but listened intently. Then to her horror she saw from the corner of her eye, a hand, with only its fingernails visible, slightly open the tent door to peek inside. It was their dreaded enemy the Hahatonwan Oyate, the Waterfall People, known today as the Ojibway or Chippewa. What was she to do? The men were not there, she had no defense, and could do nothing. The Ojibway would shortly kill them all and take their scalps. So she prayed to God, the God the missionaries told them about. “What ever you ask of God, he will grant”, the missionaries said. Then she prayed and began to sing the Dakota words to the hymn Bethany. Fortunately the Ojibway warriors outside recognized the tune of the hymn and added their voices, but in their language. The trees reverberated with the sound of the hymn. The tent door was pushed to the side and a warrior entered and shook hands with the jittery occupants. The woman invited the men into her home and they shared a meal together. The Dakota family was saved from destruction and two former enemies were made friends, all because of a hymn."
Following lunch at Makasan, we traveled to Rapid City for an Epiphany worship at Woyatan Lutheran Church, a multi-cultural ministry. The worship service began and ended with the drum group drumming and singing in Lakota as traditional dancers danced toward the altar, followed by the crucifix, acolyte, and pastoral worship leaders. It was quite a display of mingling culture and traditions.
As I reflect on the mission of multi-cultural ministry I imagine a coming together. The image of a sanctuary for peace, dialogue, and connection come to mind. I asked someone what "Woyatan" means and received two answers. One said it means "praise." Another said, "It means to praise God through humble service for others." Now that sounds like my impression of woyatan's theology and a theology for all of us. Come together and Woyatan.
"This is the setting for our story.
A single wakeya (conical tent made of hides) was situated deep in the woods. The husband and perhaps the oldest son were off hunting. As was the custom they would not return home until they harvested some animal for food. Only the faithful wife and children were home. At dusk as they huddled around the small fire within the tent, the wife heard some thing outside. Not wanting to alarm the children she said nothing, but listened intently. Then to her horror she saw from the corner of her eye, a hand, with only its fingernails visible, slightly open the tent door to peek inside. It was their dreaded enemy the Hahatonwan Oyate, the Waterfall People, known today as the Ojibway or Chippewa. What was she to do? The men were not there, she had no defense, and could do nothing. The Ojibway would shortly kill them all and take their scalps. So she prayed to God, the God the missionaries told them about. “What ever you ask of God, he will grant”, the missionaries said. Then she prayed and began to sing the Dakota words to the hymn Bethany. Fortunately the Ojibway warriors outside recognized the tune of the hymn and added their voices, but in their language. The trees reverberated with the sound of the hymn. The tent door was pushed to the side and a warrior entered and shook hands with the jittery occupants. The woman invited the men into her home and they shared a meal together. The Dakota family was saved from destruction and two former enemies were made friends, all because of a hymn."
Following lunch at Makasan, we traveled to Rapid City for an Epiphany worship at Woyatan Lutheran Church, a multi-cultural ministry. The worship service began and ended with the drum group drumming and singing in Lakota as traditional dancers danced toward the altar, followed by the crucifix, acolyte, and pastoral worship leaders. It was quite a display of mingling culture and traditions.
As I reflect on the mission of multi-cultural ministry I imagine a coming together. The image of a sanctuary for peace, dialogue, and connection come to mind. I asked someone what "Woyatan" means and received two answers. One said it means "praise." Another said, "It means to praise God through humble service for others." Now that sounds like my impression of woyatan's theology and a theology for all of us. Come together and Woyatan.
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