Christmas...

And, it's Christmas. In some ways, it's another morning. Dog outside. Coffee made. Dog inside. And,, of course, the meaningful ritual of emptying the clean dishes, filling the dirty. Reading the texts.

In some ways it's very different. My favorite difference is that our consumer culture, for the most part, is shut down. Few have to work today. We have an opportunity to live out the story that many of us heard  last night, the story of a loving God who refuses to give up on our brokenness, who is determined to reconcile us to each other, us to God.

The whole book of 1 John is about God's love and how it changes us. It's short…you should read it. Five chapters of the impact of God's love on the world.

Beloved, since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us.

Four families that I love have newborns this Christmas. The oldest clocks in at weeks, the youngest was born yesterday. Having a child changes you. Love is literally born. You suddenly live and breathe for another human being. You find yourself willing to die for that child as well.

It's the closest I can come to the remarkable birth that takes place in Bethlehem.

 God. Loves. Us.

If we love one another, God's love is perfected in us.

Merry Christmas.

Advent 24…Beginning with Surprise

God's work in the world is never what we expect. Sill. After we've seen example after example of surprising people doing surprising things, we are still surprised when God acts in ways that aren't what we expect.

Joseph was surprised. This righteous man was asked to marry someone who had clearly been unfaithful. Or so it seemed. What God was asking was that Joseph be less righteous to be more useful, at least the way righteous had been defined at the time. We like to be "less righteous" today, but I think we might be confusing "less righteous" with "less faithful." When God calls to act outside the box, it will be a challenge. It will make us stand out from the crowd, not blend in. We don't get to skip church to be less righteous and fit into our neighborhood. We are asked to stand for and with the poor, deserving or not. We are asked to sacrifice our own safety and preference for the well-being of others. We are asked to study God's Word and pray without ceasing. We are asked to judge not.

I think I would find it useful to have an angel appear and instruct. I don't expect that to happen, but somehow, even sans angel, it is the people of God that reflect God's glory. It is the reflection that draws nations in, that gathers people together. I love the promises of Isaiah that begin, "Arise, shine, for your light has come." I think that's what happens in Christmas Eve services all over the world. People are gathered, the light comes and shines, and for a brief moment, God's peace is reflected to the rest of the world. 

Someday, the "glory of the Lord" will overcome all the darkness. Until then, may we follow Joseph's example and be willing to listen and obey. 

It may begin tonight. It will begin tonight. What if it did begin tonight?

Advent 23…Generations

It's the genealogy in Matthew today. I just talked to my son who is helping his church re-do their chapel. He donated a lectern and they asked "what to put on the plaque." I suggested "Donated in honor of all voices that have nurtured faith."

The genealogy reminds me of those voices. I have another friend who will spend her first Christmas Eve in worship this year. Part of me is grateful to have had the voices that brought me to hear the story and the hymns, part of me is envious, wondering how it must be to experience that for the first time as an adult.

Scholars will tell you that the genealogy had multiple significant meanings. For me, today, it is the voices of those who have gone before, the witnesses who shared their faith with me and all those who came before me.

May I also be a witness to coming generations.

May you be also…

Advent 22…Perpetual Problem

The perpetual phrase of the people of God:

We've never done it that way before….

To be fair, any organization of human beings falls into the same trap. Once we've organized, which we must do to be together in large (or small) groups, we practice the perpetual phrase:

We've never done it that way before...

So today out of the readings, hope for me comes not from the glorious psalms, but from the next chapter in the ongoing saga of Elizabeth and Zachariah: (Luke 1, beginning at v. 59)

On the eighth day they came to circumcise the child, and they were going to name him Zechariah after his father. But his mother said, "No; he is to be called John." They said to her, "None of your relatives has this name." Then they began motioning to his father to find out what name he wanted to give him. He asked for a writing tablet and wrote, "His name is John." And all of them were amazed. Immediately his mouth was opened and his tongue freed, and he began to speak, praising God.

Zachariah said to the angel (OK, in slightly different words), Elizabeth can't have a baby! It's never been done that way before! And he could say nothing else from that moment on as God's work was accomplished. You'd think that would be a lesson for God's people, but apparently not.

Waiting time is over and the baby is born. On day 8, God's people gather to do what they've always done, circumcise and name the baby after his father. And the people say to Elizabeth who insists the baby be named John, "We've never done it that way before. No one in your family is named John." Zachariah backs her up with a writing tablet. It's a new thing. God wants a different path. Old Zach and Elizabeth actually stopped talking at God long enough to listen to what God wanted to do.

And Zachariah's "mouth is opened" and his words are praise to God. Doxology.

Most of us today travel paths we have never traveled before. Especially in churches where things don't go as they have always gone, we are in positions of wondering what next. We often think we know and we spend much time telling God or other people what should happen next.

Perhaps the art of Advent is the silence (she says as she talks…irony noted). Perhaps we should listen to God's plan without talking. It's my experience that when we see God at work our response is praise.  God's work and plan is always beyond our imagining…thanks be to God!

Advent 21…Wait

The problem is waiting. Just the commercials alone have trained us to "not wait…buy now."

Waiting is hard. We ought to be able to do something to move this process along in a significant way. No…not like Titus suggests in the second reading, living lives in the present age "that are self-controlled, upright, and godly while we wait for the blessed hope and the manifestation of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ." Now what is that going to do to advance the cause?! We need to see results. It ought to feel more like David's check list…get throne, get kingdom, build house of God. Yeah, I know God was working on David's behalf, but this is the way things should go. We ought to see those results. Work the problem, people. Work the problem.

Except the problem we seem to be working is the waiting itself. Nah, Nathan says to King David. God doesn't want you to build a house for God. He'll leave that to the next king. You just wait…oh, and trust that God will be at work establishing your throne forever. No, no, don't worry about it. You just do the work you have to do today…ruling and such. God will take care of tomorrow.

Day in and day out, regular life. Even Mary and Elizabeth, in the midst of all that pregnancy jubilation, can do nothing but wait. Every day they cook, clean, sew, tend to family life. No pause to build a finger or a toe, no activity that will grow the brain or insure a kind disposition. Just wait. Oh, and pee.

The problem is waiting. The waiting itself creates this expectation that whatever-it-is-we're-waiting-for will be a hell-of-a-thing. And then the colicky baby is born…in a stable…unheated…with slobbery animals…and you have to run to Egypt to keep the baby from being massacred while you leave behind all the other babies who are being massacred. Or the temple is built and ultimately destroyed. Or the temple remnants cause wars and murders between rival groups in Jerusalem. Was that the point? Maybe if we didn't have to wait, we wouldn't expect so much. Maybe life wouldn't be so difficult.

We're waiting for the birth of the Messiah. The Christmas celebration. Then what?

Then we go back to waiting. Because life just keeps happening. Gift trash has to go to the trash can. Mouths must be fed. Dishes washed. Children fussing over new gifts mediated. Wars resume. Hunger doesn't stop. We. just. wait. more.

Today, the waiting doesn't seem like a gift at all. I read the beautiful hymn of rejoicing that Mary sings, reminiscent of Hannah's song yesterday, and then I need to cook for church and sand and paint a railing on the front porch and go the the grocery store and vacuum the floors and while I am grateful that I have a railing and a kitchen and floors and a congregation who inspires my faith…breathe…nothing I do today is likely to change the world in a way that would get even Duck Dynasty coverage.

Oh, and set up luminaries for the neighborhood.

Wait...

Advent 20…Duck!

Not that Duck Dynasty is my enemy, but Hannah's song in the 2 chapter of Samuel stands out in the readings as an answer to the DD controversy. I don't watch the show, but did read the GQ interview and have been invited to join both sides of the controversy. Instead, I offer the words of Hannah, who finds herself pregnant after years of barrenness. Suddenly, hope is in the air. I wonder who we are in the celebration of how God work in the world, who DD is, who the gay community is? It's pretty clear who God is:

1b"My heart exults in the LORD;
my strength is exalted in my God.
My mouth derides my enemies,
because I rejoice in my victory.
²"There is no Holy One like the LORD,
no one besides you;
there is no Rock like our God.
³Talk no more so very proudly,
let not arrogance come from your mouth;
for the LORD is a God of knowledge,
and by him actions are weighed.
⁴The bows of the mighty are broken,
but the feeble gird on strength.
⁵Those who were full have hired themselves out for bread,
but those who were hungry are fat with spoil.
The barren has borne seven,
but she who has many children is forlorn.
⁶The LORD kills and brings to life;
he brings down to Sheol and raises up.
⁷The LORD makes poor and makes rich;
he brings low, he also exalts.
⁸He raises up the poor from the dust;
he lifts the needy from the ash heap,
to make them sit with princes
and inherit a seat of honor.
For the pillars of the earth are the Lord's,
and on them he has set the world.
⁹"He will guard the feet of his faithful ones,
but the wicked shall be cut off in darkness;
for not by might does one prevail.
¹⁰The LORD! His adversaries shall be shattered;
the Most High will thunder in heaven.
The LORD will judge the ends of the earth;
he will give strength to his king,
and exalt the power of his anointed."

And that, my friends, is why I'm not depressed by the DD controversy. God is still sovereign over all of us. If we depended on Duck Dynasty, well…..

Advent 19…Silenced

Just FYI…more judgment. However, a word of hope shines through Psalm 147. So if you need a spoon full of sugar with the medicine…just saying.

Reading the story of Elizabeth and Zachariah, I note that this is the "man of God." Zachariah is the one who calls people to God, who prepares them for God, who sacrifices on their behalf, who speaks God's word to them. And this man of God is the one who, when at work in the temple, hoping for God's presence and action on behalf of the people, knowing the whole assembly is praying outside...this is the guy who looks at the angel of God, hears the promise of a son, and says, "Not possible. I'm too old."

And while God did what God said God would do, Zechariah was silenced.

Imagination was simply inadequate.

But now, because you did not believe my words, which will be fulfilled in their time you will become mute, unable to speak, until the day these things occur.

What has been promised to us?

Can we, we people of God, even imagine...

Advent 18…Hungry for Justice

NPR had a long story today about farmworkers in California's San Joaquin Valley who cannot feed their families the fresh and healthy food they pick for others. The work is seasonal. Paychecks run about $170 a week. Adding to the food insecurity is the absence of a regular grocery store in the small town in which the workers live. Their only access to food is a mini-mart.

I wondered how that would feel, picking beautiful fresh produce and watching every piece move out of your hands while you know your children are hungry. I'm certain there are "rules" that prevent workers from eating or pocketing the produce. I'm sure there is a route for every harvested item…fresh produce grocery for the pretty ones; frozen, canned or other product for items less than perfect.

And here I sit, eating a beautiful pear from Oregon…the kind of perfect pear that is picked and packaged in it's own little nest and gifted at holiday time. Did hungry hands pick my pear? Here I sit reading today's Daily Lectionary on my iPad, typing on my computer. Here I sit reading psalms of praise, stories of sin, promises of God's power over evil. And I think about the package of fresh spinach in my frig that is questionable. I bought it several days ago, fully intending to eat it in the next couple of days. Schedules interrupted. If I don't cook it tonight, it will be bad. Perhaps it is already too late. And in the San Joaquin Valley there is a farm worker's wife who would celebrate that food as if a wedding banquet. For pete's sake, I feed my dog healthy, fresh food.

"…and the people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil."

The light hurts. I wish I hadn't heard the story. I wish my spinach wasn't rotting in my frig. I wish I lived close to that family. I wish I knew the families close to me who are hungry.

I wish, oh how I wish, that farm workers could take produce home for their families at the end of the work day.

Advent 17…Opposite Day

Remember "opposite day" at school? Maybe they don't do that anymore, but we dressed in opposite colors, said opposite words, walked opposite ways…all day long we were hyper-aware of opposites.

Todays readings include a passage from Revelation. The Revelation of John at the end of the New Testament is one weird book. On the surface, it doesn't make much sense. But if you go deeper into biblical tradition, it becomes in some ways, the opposite of what you expect. At the beginning of the book, seven churches are praised and challenged. Most get a bit of praise, then a mighty challenge to unfaithful behavior. A couple receive only praise. The church at Laodicea gets no praise at all, only rebuke using a slew of opposites…neither cold nor hot, poor not rich, blind not seeing, needy not self-sufficient.

The author of Revelation is brilliant in his use of metaphor and scriptural tradition. Many, many verses reference another biblical text or image. And as we today are constantly challenged to "make the message accessible," this author nails accessibility for his original audience. For example, the water supply of Laodicea had to be piped in from the hot mineral springs of Hierapolis. By the time the water got into the city, it had cooled. Between the lukewarm temperature and the mineral content, people who tried to drink the lukewarm water often spewed the nasty stuff out of their mouths. (And, BTW, the better translation than "spit" is "vomit." Think about that one…)

The issue of the day was whether or not the congregations would hold to their commitment to Jesus Christ, their commitment to witness to his Lordship in light of Rome's power and the inevitable persecution they would face. The church at Laodicea says, "No problem here. We are rich, we've done well. We don't need anything." So grace is offered, but not needed? We're fine. We don't have to commit either way. No opposites here…we'll just live in the betweens. We like being Christian, but we also like being rich and the benefits of being connected to Rome. So, we'll just do what fits at the moment with our personal needs and benefits. Compared with the Smyrna church which is totally poor, but rich with witness, the church at Laodicea gets blasted.

You are not fine, Jesus insists to the church at Laodicea. You just don't know it. "You don't realize you are wretched and pitiable--poor, blind, and naked." OK…that goes over well. Most of us stop reading after "wretched." No one wants to be told they are wretched. The people of Laodicea trust in the wealth of Rome, their comfortable lives, their nice clothes, their prosperity, their individual needs met regardless of others. Jesus hits them where they live. This city of wealthy bankers would be horrified at being labeled poor. This city of medical schools that pioneered medicines to improve sight would scoff at having their entire community pronounced blind. This city known for the finest textiles would laugh if called naked. (Thanks to Brian Blount's commentary on Revelation for the fascinating education.)

Jesus offers instead "gold refined by fire so that you may be rich, white robes to clothe you and to keep the shame of your nakedness from being seen; and salve to anoint your eyes so you may see." Refined gold symbolizes a purified life, and the refinement by fire suggests suffering, persecution. The dazzling/white garments that cloth those willing to sacrifice themselves to witness to the Lordship of Christ are offered to the congregation to replace the garments that tie them to Rome. And, the salve is the witness to Christ that opens eyes to the Spirit's work in and around us.

Anytime someone in scripture challenges the wealthy, the comfortable, the satisfied, I squirm. I know not everyone in this country is well-off, but we live like the Laodiceans in so many ways. We have science, we don't need God. We have family and friends, we don't need worship or Christian community. We have money, power, position, we don't need sacrifice. Except, we do like to be spiritual, a church member, a good citizen. Being connected to "Christianity" gets us places in this culture. We just can't be "too connected."

OK, now I've called us wretched and you've probably stopped reading. So, I'll just say this. We often think of Advent as a season of opposites, light and dark, sin and goodness, despair and hope. But maybe the danger we face in the season of Advent is not about the opposites at all. Maybe it is about the betweens where we so easily live.

Advent 16…Change the World

Reminder from today's readings:
The word translated "peace" is the Hebrew word shalom. It means peace, but so much more than that. It means health and wholeness for the individual and for the community. It means the ability to thrive in relationship with others. It means the inclusion of all in health and wholeness. If one is left out, shalom has not been achieved.

Fact:
These words enacted would change the world. Period.

For the sake of my relatives (clan, family people, kingdoms, nation) and friends (neighbor) I will say, "Peace (shalom) be with you." For the sake of the house of the LORD our God, I will seek your good. (Psalm 122:8-9)

Advent 15…Whose Name?

I find the gospel of John rather hard to understand, but a line caught my eye in today's reading. Verse 43:

I have come in my Father's name, and you do not accept me; if another comes in his own name, you will accept him. 

And internet blogs weren't even around yet!

I have this image of the blogosphere, warranted mind you, that whoever wants to be an expert just writes a blog. (And yes, I see the irony.) The amount of garbage-in-the-name-of-news out there is striking to me, having grown up in an era when news outlets took great pride in never making a mistake, never giving opinion, always fact-checking until no doubt existed. That seems no longer the point. Ratings, destruction--or at least doubt-raising of the "other" side, or just the ability to say what you want with no apparent consequences creates the facade of news, but little that can be trusted.

And we are so eager to trust. If it agrees with our political bent, it's true. If it agrees with our religious opinion, it's true. If it comes from a source we know is not on "our side," it is malicious lies. So, I just need to figure out, dear readers, what label belongs on you, claim it, and off we go.

On. the. other. hand…

Let me express an opinion about who God is or what God asks of us, and, well, that's just delusional. No rational person can believe God exists. You certainly can't prove it. Get a grip. Tell me what you think…not what God thinks. You exist. You I can believe.

I have come in my Father's name, and you do not accept me; if another comes in his own name, you will accept him. 

I certainly don't know everything about what God thinks. I may get it wrong more than I get it right. But this testimony/witness from a man named Jesus should perhaps inspire pause to listen, to watch, to see what he is doing and what he says. You won't ever see him claiming it is all about him. He is always pointing back to God.

I don't want to write a great blog, I want to point to a great God. I don't want to preach a great sermon, I want to point to a great God. I don't want to do great mission, I want to point to a great God.

That is what Advent is all about.

The pointing.

Advent 14…The Starting Point

Todays reading are descriptive of suffering, of human shortcomings in the face of God's perfection. I was intrigued specifically by Psalm 90 at the beginning of the readings and Psalm 80 at the end.

I have a fundamentally different expectation of life than many, certainly from the expectation raised by our consumer culture--Martha Stewart in particular. For whatever reason, I don't expect "happiness" every day; I know trouble is part of daily life. I even accept that mind-numbing boringness happens--especially when one is vacuuming. At the same time, life is never really dull--there was that petrified biscuit that I vacuumed up out of a kid's closet one morning. Perfection is not even an option.

On the other hand, for whatever reason, our culture teaches that we can achieve happiness every day; perfection in job, home, and family; and, most significantly, that we can actually live without trouble or illness. "Salvation" to us seems to be this perfect, happy life. When we don't live it, it often seems we must give up faith, or the practices of faith, because clearly God is not doing God's job.

Psalm 80 reminded me of this today. God's people are in exile, praying that God will reclaim them and return them to their honored place. Literally, at the end they pray: "Restore us, O LORD God of hosts; let your face shine, that we may be saved." In the context of the psalm this seems to mean make our nation great again and we will be saved. They even bargain in the verse before: "But let your hand be upon the one at your right hand, the one whom you made strong for yourself. Then we will never turn back from you; give us life, and we will call on your name."  First fix things, God. Then we will be your people.

Psalm 90 hits a strikingly different tone.

Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations…                                          from everlasting to everlasting you are God." 

 The psalmist also understands judgment...

For all our days pass away under your wrath...

...human fragility and trouble.

The days of our life are seventy years,                                                                                 or perhaps eighty, if we are strong;                                                                                  even then their span is only toil and trouble;                                                                    they are soon gone, and we fly away.

But all this happens in complete trust that no matter what is happening in life, from everlasting to everlasting, you are God. So, while we might pray that God will make our lives better, more blessed, less troubled (and I do), salvation is not coming when we are "fixed." Salvation is understanding and embracing that in our brokenness, we are God's.

Turn, O LORD! How long?                                                                                           Have compassion on your servants!                                                                             Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love,                                                                 so that we may rejoice and be glad all our days.                                                               Make us glad as many days as your have afflicted us,                                                      and as many years as we have seen evil.                                                                           Let your work be manifest to your servants,                                                                     and your glorious power to their children.                                                                        Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us,                                                                  and prosper for us the work of our hands--                                                                         O prosper the work of our hands. 

Question for the day: What is our starting point? Must life be defined as we see successful to know we belong to God? Or can we start with from-everlasting-to-everlasting-God and live all of life's insanities knowing to whom we belong?

Advent 13…Halfway

We are just past the halfway point in Advent. I read the texts this morning and wondered what on earth I could say…again…about judgment. All judgment. Everywhere. Read them all; you can say, "Oh yes, I've read Haggai." But I bet you will have the same response. Bleh. I'm tired of judgment. Let's get on to the Christmas hope.

Ah-ha moment. Because we, the people of God, are not good at judgment. We know it is good for us. We will stay with it for a bit. But then we'd really like to move back to the good news. Have I recognized things that need to change in my life. Yes. Have I changed. No.

Isn't recognition good enough?

It feels heavy today. Judgment weighs me down. Covers me up. Holds me under.
    Stop!   Let.  me.   go.

Out of the depths I cry to you, O LORD.                                                                      Lord, hear my voice!                                                                                                         Let your ears be attentive to the voice of my supplications!

If you, O LORD, should mark iniquities,                                                                       Lord, who could stand?                                                                                                     But there is forgiveness with you, so that you may be revered.

I wait for the LORD, my soul waits, and in his word I hope;                                            my soul waits for the Lord                                                                                              more than those who watch for the morning,                                                                  more than those who watch for the morning.

O Israel, hope in the LORD!                                                                                               For with the LORD there is steadfast love, and with him is great power to redeem.                  It is he who will redeem Israel from all its iniquities. (Psalm 130)

 

 

 

Advent 12…You Can't Hide

My son delighted in the naughty when he was a teenager. Or we assume he did, because he was mightily naughty. His bedroom was in our basement, and at the foot of the stairs (right to family room, left to his room) we had hung a crucifix Jesus. There's no cross on this piece, just the Jesus. It was found in a dump in Japan and is a beautifully crafted piece of art…only the cross is gone. So it is mounted in a beautiful frame, and the foot of the stairs was its home.

So he asks/tells me one day, "Mom, move that Jesus. I'm tired of him looking at me all the time." And I,  in the most empathetic, motherly way possible, snort with laughter and reply, "And then what, you think if I take the inanimate picture down that God won't be able to see what you are doing and who you are?" The conversation ended…with a door slam if I recall correctly. And if that's not right, there were enough door slams to assume that's how it ended.

Amos has the same conversation, backed up by Psalm 18 and 147. "And where do you think you can go to escape God?"

Though they dig into Sheol, from there shall my had take them; though they climb up to heaven, from there I will bring them down...

We and our sin cannot escape God. We cannot hide our sin in our middle-class respectability, in our church membership, in gated communities that keep us "safe" from sinners, in our exclusion of those different from us, in our refusal to let go of our security for the security of others. God will find us and God's hand will draw us out.

Then what? I don' t know. I think it might not be pretty. But I know after the time of exile Amos warned about the people sang songs again:

When the LORD restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dream.            Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy;                  then it was said among the nations, "The LORD has done great things for them."          The LORD has done great things for us, and we rejoiced. (Psalm 126)

A repeated theme, judgment and hope in two sides of the same coin. "Where can we go to escape God?"

Advent 11…Famine

Issue one:
North Carolina has been much in the news this year after the state legislature made numerous changes to state laws which impacted the poor in significant ways. Public education, a foundational value of this state for many, many years, continues to be slashed. I have my opinions on how government should run, and so do people on the opposite side of the political spectrum. I'm not sure who is right…in good Presbyterian fashion, I believe the wisdom of a diverse group of people committed to each other, the country and their neighbors would make good decisions. I'm not seeing that happen much of anywhere. NC is not the only place this is happening. The nation reflects the pattern, perhaps even more intensely.

Issue two:
The state of the mainline church in today's America is nothing to write home about in most cases. We are worried. For years, we have looked for the "answer." Worship style, preaching style, buildings, lack of buildings, bicycle churches, coffee-shop churches…we haven't hit on "the answer" that we are pretty sure is out there somewhere. (We seem to be wrong about that.)

Issue three:
The 8 chapters of Amos repeat his primary theme. God doesn't want us to hurt the poor and oppressed. Today's reading after Amos calls out the people for trampling on the needy, bringing ruin to the poor of the land, making the "weight" of the wheat small and the price great, buying "the poor for silver and the needy for a pair of sandals" (my image, pawn shops…):

The time is surely coming, says the Lord GOD, when I will send a famine on the land; not a famine of bread, or a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the LORD. They shall wander from sea to sea, and from north to east; they shall run to and fro, seeking the word of the LORD, but they shall not find it.

Conclusion:
I leave this to you. I know where my prayers lie today. I recognize the attitudes God's people are called to cultivate. I see the judgment on my thoughtless, oppressive behaviors, and thanks be to God he doesn't give up on turning us again and again and again to who we should be as God's people.

God's advent into the world requires a repentant people. May I, in every way, be one of those.

Advent 10…Living Love

I listened to continuing coverage of the celebrations of Nelson Mandela's life. My husband and I talked about how seldom we see the greatest commandment enacted in leadership. I could count the ones I could think of on one hand.

Matthew recounts the story of Jesus besting the Pharisees, answering the question of the "greatest commandment" with love God, love neighbor as yourself. The "love" Jesus talked about was not the Hallmark, soap-opera definition of love that inhabits this culture's definition and expectation, but a love based on restorative behavior, reaching out to enemies to reconcile, treating others as fully human regardless of current circumstances, not fearing for or clinging to your own life and circumstances when you are called to share with or serve others. It is a simple concept, so very simple. It is the most difficult choice for any of us. A few, probably many more we don't know, but only the rare public leader is able to act as God demands.

Mandela invited his jailers to attend his inauguration and recognized them. He brought people together because he treated all people as fully human, even those who had wronged him. The nation of South Africa was able to move forward because Mandela set an example and galvanized enough people to act in ways that demonstrated reconciliation and justice.

No human is perfect. Mandela had his faults. His legacy is one, however, that steps toward the kind of world that God envisions. The Advent season invites us to recognize those moments of "in-breaking" and move toward making choices that invite more "in-breaking" of the presence of God. We are certainly flawed humans, no one of us is likely to ever have the influence of a Mandela or a Martin Luther King. But we can reach out to the people God places in our time and space and trust that God will take care of the big picture. It's a simple concept; it's a difficult choice.

'You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.' This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.' On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.

Advent 9…Plumb Line

Amos is the chosen focal point out of today's readings.  The Lord stands beside a wall built with a plumb line, with a plumb line is his hand and asks Amos "What do you see?" Amos wittily replies…
"a plumb line."  Sharp one, that Amos.

A plumb line, for those of us not terrible handy, is a piece of string weighted at the bottom. When you stand and hold the line out (or hang it from something) it will swing briefly and then settle into stillness. When it is still, you have a straight or "true" line from which to build. A wall built "plumb" is strong and does not lean one way of the other. A house lined up with a "true" wall is also built well.

God tells Amos he is setting a plumb line in the midst of God's people…then says "I will never again pass them by." And we are back to judgment as good news. The passage says the high places of Isaac shall be made desolate, and the sanctuaries of Israel shall be laid waste, but in context of the plumb line, this is what happens to make a "true" wall. If you aren't lined up plumb, you must be taken apart and lined up again.

It is not clear in Amos what the plumb line will be. Perhaps God's Commandments, but the text doesn't specify. Now, we are clear that God's plumb line for us is Jesus Christ. We are called to order our lives next to his, in line with his. Jesus provides our plumb.

And God promises not to leave us to our own devices. God is going to be there tearing down what we build wrong, helping us rebuild until we are as "true" as the plumb line. I suppose today's question is whether or not we are open to the rebuilding process, or do we cling so tenaciously to our slant that we build to surprise and horror when everything we plan and organize fails to meet our expectations, cannot hold the weight of life itself.

Perhaps Advent is a season of "settling into stillness" so we can begin to build "true."

Advent 8…Worthy of God's Call

Today's readings begin with praise, but move quickly to judgment in Amos and in Thessalonians. We celebrate the birth of John the Baptist, but we know he is destined to bring judgment as soon as he is old enough to sass his parents.

Thessalonians is interesting. I remember the passage being read often in the church that raised me. My childhood memory (which, perhaps, isn't totally accurate) is that the promise of eternal destruction of our enemies was quite joyful. We were the good guys; they, the bad guys. God seems to promise in this passage that the bad guys will get theirs someday.

I always thought that was a bit weird. First, it didn't gel with the passages in which God expresses love for the whole world and promises to draw all things to Godself. Second, I understood why my unchurched friends really didn't want to come to church. They had already been placed in that eternal damnation…then told that that same God who promised to destroy them really loved them and wanted them to love him back. Didn't make sense to them. Me either.

I do understand the context of writing a letter to those suffering for the sake of the gospel and encouraging them by assuring them of God's ultimate victory over evil. I love the last sentence of this passage, the author "pray[ing] for you, asking that our God will make you worthy of his call and will fulfill by his power every good resolve and work of faith, so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ." I also remember that as a child. We all wanted to be made worthy.

The understanding of my early faith tradition was that you lived in certain ways that would make you worthy. Reading the Bible, attending church, giving money, not swearing or drinking, these were part of the list. The understanding of my Presbyterian faith tradition is that our "worthiness" has been accomplished by Jesus Christ, and as we live "in him," his worthiness becomes ours. The list (not my childhood list) becomes a way to live as God intends--summarized with "the love God, love neighbor as yourself" command.

And, finally, the point. When I had young children, we occasionally encountered biters. All the children in one family were biters. When my kids bit me as infants (accidentally) I hollered and made it clear it hurt (which it did!). As they grew up, they knew biting was a terrible, terrible thing. We loved this family, but when their children bit, the mom would hold them close, smile, hug, and say in a soft voice, "Honey, please don't bite. It's just not nice." I felt a little guilty for "hollering," but my kids got the point.

To succeed at any human endeavor, it takes honest judgment and work through pain. My preaching professor in seminary told a story about a colleague who never critiqued baby-preacher sermons, they just talked about what was good. It was too difficult, she explained, people's feelings got hurt. I have heard some of those baby-preachers as they preach in their churches. They needed a few hurt feelings to effectively proclaim the gospel!

We don't like to hear stories of God punishing God's people. Amos makes me mightily uncomfortable. So does being called a brood of vipers, which is the pet name John the Baptist gives to the church people of his time. But do we hear the "invitation" to participate? Do we respond to the command?

Sometimes, perhaps, we do. But honestly, I think most of us need a little hollering' to get the job done. And let me be clear--this is God's prerogative to holler, not ours. We don't get to decide who's in and who's out. None of us deserve the grace in which we live. Everyone deserves the grace in which we live.

That's the gospel truth...

Advent 7…In All Generations

Today's readings begin with Psalm 90, one of my favorites, I must admit. Well, frankly, several favorites are in todays selections, "let justice roll down like waters" and Jesus' witty "give to the emperor the things that are the emperor's, and to God the things that are God's," and the end of the Jude passage…but here was my first thought.

Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations.                                                Before the mountains were brought forth,                                                                                  or ever you had formed the earth and the world,                                                                 from everlasting to everlasting you are God.

My experience of culture today is that the "right now" rules. Yet another story emerged from congress in the last week; they can't agree on a farm bill. So they most likely will pass an extension for a month in the hopes they can work something out. We live in a series of extensions. Everyone talks about solving problems for future generations. Everyone acts to preserve their current power and place. Our concern for "right now" seems inescapable.

I don't think it was better in the past. I hope it will be better in the future, but I'm not holding my God-given breath. But, this I know.

Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations.                                                Before the mountains were brought forth,                                                                                  or ever you had formed the earth and the world,                                                                 from everlasting to everlasting you are God.

On the days we manage to make progress as humans--the work of Nelson Mandela is a gift to generations of people--I am grateful for the guidance of the everlasting God.

On the days we are stupid and petty and cannot move from the weight of our secret sins, God is still  the everlasting God.

The plan for today it to "green the church." All generations of God's people living and able will be there to do a small part. It is, for me, a manifestation of God's work and wisdom.

"Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us, and prosper for us the work of our hands-- 

And, may we be together certain that we live and move and have our being in the Everlasting God.

 

Advent 6…Judgment

(My husband suggests I include the readings. If you "click" on the blue, underlined word "readings" you will be re-routed to the Daily Lectionary readings. Any blue, underlined word will take you on an internet journey.)

For many years, I preferred to ignore texts of God's judgment. I chose God's grace, God's love, God's generosity. And God, I'm sure, laughed because 1) "I chose"…really? it's up to me? and 2) God's judgment is God's grace.

Judgment is pronounced in today's readings. These are the parts we might like to skip. Seems we are willing to wait or look for God, to live in hope and anticipation, even to cry out for justice--but for "others," always judgment and justice for others.

This could be such a long entry. Scripture offers so much to be explored, so much to be explained. But perhaps exploring and explaining judgment provides just one more way to avoid it. So I'll tell a story instead. One of my children recognized through the "judgment" of another that she "fights dirty." Refusing to acknowledge the validity of the judgment, excusing the dirty fighting as "just part of who I am," blaming it on others--"if you hadn't pushed me so far…," all of these were possible responses. Instead, she listened, recognized the truth of what had been identified, and spent some time figuring out how and why she learned the fighting technique. In accepting the judgment, she also knew she had to make different choices. In the telling of her story, she encourages others to do the same. "You can't have healthy relationships unless you are willing to change the unhealthy ways you interact," she says." I'm going to work on this. Y'all are going to have to help me."

Grace abounds. A "couple" learns how to disagree without destroying each other. Siblings change a terrible habit that has held them apart at one level. The absence of disagreement is not the goal; the ability to disagree in love is possible.

I've learned to love texts of God's judgment. God's anger and judgment are kindled against those God loves…and that's us. God wants shalom for God's people, and holds up all our behaviors that circumvent that shalom so we might see and repent, turning from our broken ways back to the ways of God that give us life and health and wholeness in a community of life and health and wholeness. And we who typically stop at the individual need to hear that God's judgment always pulls us toward the wholeness of community. It's never just about us. God's grace and judgment are the same thing.

The ancient peoples lived mighty different lives than we live. Not all the images make much sense to people of 21st century, first-world consumer cultures. What we read as disturbing images of God doing bad things, they understand as God's sovereignty, God's complete control over all of life, not just what we tend to define as "good." A scientist once reminded me (and I'd document if I could remember who or where) that the earthquake we see primarily as tragic, senseless destruction, is the earthquake that made it possible for life to exist on this planet, the earthquake that continues to renew the earth in ways most of us simply don't understand.

Listening for God's correction and responding is the grace I seek. May it be for you as well.

Advent 5…A Season of Metaphor

The power of metaphor is strong in the human psyche. Metaphor brings to life a truth we already know, a truth that suddenly sits up and shouts in the recesses of our minds…compelling us to pay attention. (See, it just happens…)

Groucho Marx…even before the Affordable Care Act:

A hospital bed is a parked taxi with the meter running.

Winston Churchill was also a master:

Some regard private enterprise as if it were a predatory tiger to be shot. Others look upon it as a cow that they can milk. Only a handful see it for what it really is--the strong horse that pulls the whole cart.

Metaphor strikes me in today's readings. Amos first…speaking for God:

I gave you cleanness of teeth in all your cities, and lack of bread in all your places, yet you did not return to me.

What? How does clean teeth and no bread inspire a return to God? Beyond me…completely.
Jesus' parable of the vineyard is beyond the Pharisees. Upstart prophet! Who does he think he is!

So, we start with Psalm 18, and all the psalms, really, are metaphors. The images for the LORD who is our Rock, our fortress, our deliverer…nice. The images for the angry God thundering around in the heavens in anger (a "hot nose" in the Hebrew language…that's what it literally says) are less familiar, strange really. Smoke coming up from God's nostrils, God riding on a cherub, flashing lightning and shaking the foundations of the earth in his anger…certainly more like a movie than real life.

The season of Advent is full of metaphor, "light shining in darkness," "hope of the world," "a season of waiting." Do you ever wish we just said what we meant?

Problem is, we mean God. God's reconciling work. God's in-breaking. God incarnate. Anyone who has had an experience of God will tell you it is a lonely place to be. You cannot explain it to anyone in a way that communicates the power  and grace you experienced. You can try, but it never feels like it is enough. So you resort to metaphor.

[The LORD] reached down from on high, he took me; he drew me out of mighty waters, He delivered me from my strong enemy, and from those who hated me; for they were too mighty for me. They confronted me in the day of my calamity; but the LORD was my support. He brought me out into a broad place; he delivered me, because he delighted in me… (Ps. 18)

Advent is the season of metaphor because it is hard to put into words the gift we have received, the gift we anticipate will be ours again and again and again.

The LORD has done great things for us, and we rejoiced. Restore our fortunes, O LORD, like the watercourses in the Negeb. May those who sow in tears reap with shouts of joy. Those who go out weeping bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, carrying their sheaves. (Ps. 126)

I know…I don't get it fully either. But I hear the prayer, the promise, and the willingness to wait.

Advent, the first metaphor of the Christian year.

Food for thought. (Couldn't resist one last metaphorical shot!)

Advent Four…Grim

All the readings are pretty grim today. All focus on the brokenness of humankind. Matthew addresses God's refusal to prove Godself to those who are intent on skepticism. Lots of talk of sinners and fools and cows of Bashan, a rather creative slur for the rich women living and oppressing in the time of the prophet Amos. I'm sure calling them cows didn't win Amos any popularity contests. Want to make a woman angry…the title "cow" will do it.

An article circulated on Facebook yesterday, Seven Lies about Christianity that many Christians believe wholeheartedly. The first two are that you will always be happy and that all your problems will disappear. Not the picture painted by todays Advent texts. We would love it, I suppose, if God just went ahead and brought fully God's kingdom in the here and now…we think we would. But if we step back just the smallest step, I think we begin to recognize ourselves in the litany of brokenness. We are oppressors, sometimes intentional, sometimes not (listen to today's NPR report on making t-shirts in Bangladesh). We are often fools. Psalm 50 describes how we think God wants one thing from us when God wants something entirely different. We want things done on our timeline and with our definition of success (2 Peter reading). Even "after we saw it" we don't commit to this life of discipleship (Mt. 21:32). God looks for the wise in Psalm 53 and finds "there is no one who does good."

Perhaps this is the discipline of Advent. Perhaps we are challenged to live for a time in the darkness, look at it, stop pretending it doesn't exist, identify and embrace our part in it. Our friend in 2 Peter suggests that the Lord is slow because of patience, wanting people to "come" to repentance. Reality is, repentance is not possible if we cannot see or acknowledge our brokenness.

Friends who do counseling or therapeutic intervention talk about the difficulty of the first step…helping someone admit they have a problem. That may be the hardest thing ever for us. We so clearly see the problem in every one else, in every thing else. That is what the sinners and prostitutes in the Matthew reading could do. They fully recognized their shortcomings, their sins…and they fully recognized the saving grace offered to them in Jesus Christ. The people of God were the ones who couldn't see their own faults. They also missed the joy of their salvation.

The weirdness is, we live in the full and sure knowledge that we are beloved and forgiven by God. But for today, perhaps we are encouraged to consider our brokenness so that we might know deeply and fully the joy of our forgiveness, so that we might sing the praises of Psalm 147 with every fiber of our beings.

Advent 3…Reminders and Witnesses

I haven't spent much time reading 2 Peter, but if you know me, this will make you laugh, and you will understand why I stopped here on the Advent journey:

Therefore I intend to keep on reminding you of these things, though you know them already…I think it right as long as I am in this body, to refresh your memory...

The reminders are of eyewitness accounts of the work of Jesus Christ. The author refers specifically to the Spirit's coming at Jesus' baptism and the transfiguration experience on the mountain top. "Remember" the author says. "I know you know these things…but remember?!" And the author is not just concerned about the event, but that the event that reveals "the prophetic message more fully confirmed."

These biblical accounts of the saving work of our Triune God are not just a "cleverly devised myth" or a nice story. These are eyewitness accounts of God at work in human lives. That is what the season of Advent is about…looking, asking, seeking God at work. Demanding, at times, that God be at work. 

I've been reading Almost Christian and the section I read last night and this morning is about witnessing. To witness means both "to see" and "to tell." Learning to do both is a critical task of the people of God. Seeing God at work and telling others our eyewitness account, our experience of the great grace and love of the Triune God, that is fundamental work. Kenda Creasy Dean makes the case that "teens learn to articulate faith by hearing adults articulate theirs." (p. 163) She describes the "God-story" as the "decoder ring" that helps interpret our own experiences. "Without a story to tell, there is no faith; without a language to tell our story, Christianity remains on mute--and the church's missional imagination atrophies. The gospel is unambiguous: good news is meant to be shared." Dean suggest it is the core of our identity to "run from the tomb to tell: "Here's how it went, here's what I saw. I've been there and I'm going back."( p. 167)

The author of 2 Peter could have written Dean's book. "I intend to keep reminding you of these things though you know them already…" We understand the prophetic message, he or she says. We've experienced the honor and glory of God. We are part of a long line of men and women moved by the Holy Spirit to speak about God.

And so I remind. I nag. I question. I witness. I remind. I nag. I question. I witness. As long as I am in this body, I will remind you. And in the words of 2 Peter:

You will do well to be attentive to this as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.

That could well be the definition of Advent.

Advent 2…Seeking Shalom

The author of Psalm 22 stands in Jerusalem, the city that belongs to the LORD, the city which signifies the presence of the kingdom of God. Recognizing life in the kingdom of God inspires a response. Verses 8-9 pull us from a position of lauding our privilege as God's people and place us squarely where we belong...in the service of that kingdom.

For the sake of my relatives and friends I will say, "Peace be with you."                          For the sake of the house of the LORD our God, I will seek your good.  

This peace, shalom, stretches far beyond the lack of conflict. It encompasses the health and wholeness of every person in every place and time. Yesterday in worship we were challenged to live as if the kingdom was already fully realized. The author of Psalm 122 stands within the gates of Jerusalem and does just that; he or she lives like the kingdom of God is fully here.

For the sake of my relatives and friends I will say, "Peace be with you."                          For the sake of the house of the LORD our God, I will seek your good.   

"I will seek your good." It is not enough to imagine the good that would come from living that reality. We are called to live there. It is a dangerous place to live; it may require our lives. In fact, it will require our lives.
How do we do this? What enables us to live in this way that requires this unimaginable risk? Psalm 40 answers the question:

As for me, I am poor and needy, but the Lord takes thought for me.                                 You are my help and my deliverer; do not delay, O my God.

The advent, the beginning, of the kingdom of God on earth begins with our realization that the Lord takes thought of us. The kingdom comes when, by the power of the Spirit, we enact the Psalmist's promise: "for the sake of the house of the LORD our God, I will seek your good."

The simple is always the most difficult. Live like this…"I will seek your good."

Another Advent Begins...

For the Advent season, a series of short meditations on the Daily Lectionary readings.  (Remember, you can put your e-mail in the  "Follow by E-mail" slot in the top right-hand column and we will show up in your in-box.)

Psalm 24 begins:

The earth is the LORD's and all that is in it, the world, and those who live in it...

Not a bad starting place. The earth doesn't belong to the retail monster, to the too-small paycheck, to the addiction or the disagreement that seems to expand until to swallows every moment of every day, every fiber of every relationship.

Our darkest secret, our most intractable problems, our most embarrassing failures…our most embarrassing successes…none of these is our starting point or our finishing point. None of this defines us.

The earth is the LORD's and all that is in it...

It's the only place to stand as we begin a new year as the people of God. We look for God's reconciling, redeeming activity from that perch. We exist, whether we acknowledge it or not, as God's own.

The earth is the LORD's and all that is in it, the world and those who live in it...

 

Children Died...

Children died. It was an accident, a terrible, stupid, typical accident. And children died.

At youth group, we had a bonfire and made bad wiener jokes, told sketchy ghost stories, ate a multitude of hot dogs, threw away enough food to make the prophet Amos take notice, but we never, never once talked about the hurt, pain, fear, and grief that swallow up our neighbors.

A few individual conversations happened. Some wondered if a service of healing and wholeness should be held…led, perhaps, by youth of the church.

Probably not say parents. Kids live in two separate realms. School is school.  Church is church. Kids won't want to mix the two.

WHAT ARE WE DOING? If our faith practice and children who die don't intersect, if that doesn't flatten us with concern and grief for each other, for the hurting inside and outside our doors, if we don't see that our witness to healing, new life, and a God fully present in these moments of extraordinary, unstoppable, unceasing pain is the gift we bring to the world…then why are we here?

"Christian formation invites [us] into this motley band of pilgrims and prepares [us] to receive the Spirit who calls [us], shapes [us] and enlists [us] in God's plan to right a capsized world." (Dean, p. 18)

There is no more important practice than understanding, articulating, and living this Christian faith as Jesus lived it. For our kids. For any of us. We must have, we must live, we must teach a consequential Christian faith.

Because children died.

Does it Matter?

I'm a relatively unimportant person. I'm important to a few people...my kids, my husband...and the dog. I am very important to the dog. I carry a bit of weight around particular tasks in my job. I'm the one who organizes Sunday school, for example. People think that makes me important, but it doesn't, really. Anyone could do it. I just happen to be the one in this time and place that gets it done.

I don't have a powerful job or lots of money. Therefore, I have little influence in the business or political spheres. Like most of you, my representatives to congress think I am worthy of a form letter and not much more. I guess I should be thankful that an e-mail or phone call gets a form letter...but letter never has anything to do with the opinion I express.

I have moments of importance. When I inquire about buying a car listed on the internet, I am important until the salesman figures out I wanted to pay the "gotcha" price and not something four to six thousand dollars higher. When I have time or skill that someone needs, I am important.

But in the grand scheme of things...I'm not going to be in the history books. My face will not beam from a granite mountaintop. I haven't started a movement, and I have resisted, so far, the impulse to murder anyone.

I was listening to Dave Isay talk about starting StoryCorps on NPR, "a project to give people of all backgrounds the chance to share and record the stories of their lives." He describes writing a book about homeless people in a New York City neighborhood. He brought the galley of the book to the flophouse and one of the guys opened to his page and ran down the hall shouting "I exist! I exist!" That, for Isay, was the "clarion call." He began StoryCorps to "tell [people] their lives matter and they won't be forgotten."

Now I am fully human, and there are times I wish I was important. Moments call out for recognition beyond the dog's total adoration and attention (which, you understand, happens for the 15 seconds before he eats, while the food is sitting on the floor and he is "waiting" for permission). I'm not dead yet, so I occasionally dream about writing a book like Eugene Peterson, painting a picture like Georgia O'Keefe, or singing like my daughter.

But here's the thing. My life matters and I won't be forgotten. I commit my life to the idea that I have been invited to participate in the mission of God, the God who creates, redeems, sustains, rules and transforms all things and all people. "Importance" in this culture doesn't really matter. What's important is how God chooses to use our lives, and we don't have to know how that shakes out.

I don' t even need a book to tell me I exist. I am a child of God. That gives what I do right the power and influence of God's very self...and what I do wrong gets dismissed or re-routed into what God will use for God's ultimate purposes. Today, I sit at my desk, type on this little, unimportant blog, write curriculum for the Christian formation of this congregation, and celebrate that I exist in the mind and heart and purposes of God. In that, my life matters and I will never be forgotten.

We Are NOT Broken...NOT!

An acquaintance posted this on his Facebook Page:

Christianity has it wrong. We are not broken. We are not fallen. We are not flawed. We are simply fragile. We are beautifully distractible. We are self-invested because of love but that love also gives us a slight bias toward justice. We are so deeply invested in life that we can, at times, deny the larger good for the experience of the moment. We are not broken. We are human. We are flesh and blood, and we are experiential. Sometimes that makes us better. Sometimes that make us worse. It never makes us less. Or sinful. Or unredeemable. It means we are real. It mean that life has a relentless hold on us. The struggles, the stumbles, the seemingly endless short-fallings simply point to our humanity not to our unworthiness. They mean life is difficult -- but they also mean life is vibrant - pulsing with potential, ripe with possibility, constantly presenting lesson from which to grow. YOU - you are not broken. You are a unique expression of God here on Earth. You are bursting with potential that has not yet been expressed. You are God's beloved. You are NOT broken. You are in process. You are love hoping to not only be expressed but to be recognized.

I agree with some of what he says. I do think we are unique, flesh and blood, and experiential. I know we are redeemable. I think life is vibrant--pulsing with potential, ripe with possibility...at least at those times when circumstances haven't overwhelmed us with hopelessness. But, consider this.

IF we are just fragile and distractible, then really, not much is wrong with the world. We don't need to work for marriage equality or food security. We don't need to worry about damage to the environment or discrimination on the basis of anything. Because...we are not really broken. We'll get there. Remember, "because of our love we have a slight bias toward justice." If that's the case, the funeral protesters of the Baptist church-that-shall-go-unnamed are a unique expression of God here on earth, just hoping their love will be recognized. The attempt to eliminate SNAP grants while cutting tax burdens for the wealthy is just a reflection of our "real-ness."

If we are NOT broken, why should we work on our marriages, our political system, our relationships with each other and the world. We are right...if slightly distracted...and should just wait for the rest of the world to come to us.

Really, if we are just "fragile and distractible"..."in process," then all we need is time. What we don't need is God. Well, maybe we need God a little--mostly to recognize our unbroken, potential selves...our unique selves that just need a bit more time to grow. If God could recognize that and quit calling us to humility and service, all would be good.

It is so tempting to buy into this perspective.  Some years ago, I would have relished the positive tone. I believe with my whole heart that God creates us good, but we are born into such a broken world, it is impossible to extract ourselves from the brokenness. And, the insistence that nothing is fundamentally wrong reveals the depth of our sin.

Ah, there's the word. Sin. Christianity has many things wrong, I'll admit. Could it be, perhaps, because we are such sinful creatures? Exclusive theology...sin. Focus on earning our way to heaven while we ignore the hell on earth...sin. Preserving power structures in Christ's church that enable a few to prosper and many to suffer...sin. Forgetting that God is always doing a new thing in our lives and our world and clinging to the way-we've-always-done-it...sin.

Christianity has it exactly right when we recognize the depth of our brokenness. It is only then that healing begins. It is only then that we are willing to let God's grace work on us. If we're not broken, why should we do anything different at all.

We are beloved by God and, in fact, bursting with potential, but until we truly accept and confess our brokenness, the process by which God moves us toward God's definition of good (sanctification, for you theology nerds), will slow to a crawl (because we cannot ultimately stop what God will do). The love to be recognized is God's, in which we live and move and have our being.

If I "buy" this guy's perspective, then the health and well-being of the world is up to me. I can be just a little better, a little more focused, grow and little more, and all will be right with the world. Frankly, if the hope of the world is up to me, or my fellow human travelers, I don't see much hope. If the hope of the world rests fully in God's grace and love, then I can participate to the very best of my ability, in a faith community which nurtures me in the journey and holds me accountable for participating. I can do this because I trust that God is working out God's purposes. I see glimpses of the Kingdom, I see the mighty acts of justice in the past, and I can trust that all the brokenness that surrounds us in this time and place will not have the ultimate say.

We are the broken, flawed, fallen, distractible, beloved of God. And because we are beloved, God continues to work to bring us, and all our fellow broken, flawed, fallen, distractibles to the place of love and trust that will eventually become God's Kingdom here on earth.

WAIT!...

Our nursery children have established a bad habit of running into the parlor on their way to the sanctuary and hiding in the most inviting hiding place ever...ever...ever. But rounding them up to get them into the sanctuary on time can be a bit of a challenge.

This week, the "in worship" children were sitting, waiting for the pastor to begin the time with the children. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.... Finally, Joe said, "Well, we'll go ahead and get started."

And then, of course, the door opened and most of the children came in.  Joe began to speak and from the hallway echoed a shriek...."WAIT!!!!!!"

The last two-year-old careened through the door and skidded into place while the congregation roared with laughter.

Aren't we just like that? God is ready to start with us and we are hiding in our special places, convinced that we are having the most possible fun, living the fullest life, knowing we couldn't possibly go into God's places until after we finish with our own.  But occasionally we realize that God has started without us and we think that shouting "Wait!" will stop God's work with the rest of the world so that we can have our own place secure.

And when God stops laughing..............

Satellite Churches...

I really have always been uncomfortable with the idea of satellite churches. Some would say its is jealousy...if I were the famous pastor whose sermons were so mightily compelling that people in a different part of the city wanted to be part of my church and were content to stream me in on Sunday in worship...then I would be all for it. I am doubtful...though I recognize the tendency toward thinking we are that important and trust that if it happens you will gently, or not so gently, tell me I am full of #@*!.

One danger of living in a family of bookworms is whatever conversation you have inevitably leads to the discussion of a recently read volume. Authors, I'm sure, appreciate this. Blog readers may not. But I was reading a book recommended by my daughter, the aspiring professor of Worship and Liturgy. Thomas Schattauer gathers a group of colleagues in a discussion of church and the mission of God. He might be surprised to know he inspires me to encourage a bunch of satellite churches.

Schattauer's opening discussion is on the "traditional" separation of worship and mission--translation, what we have been doing for a hundred years or so. Worship (liturgy is his term) is what the people of God do inside the church to be empowered to take up "mission" outside the church, "in the world." He calls this the "inside and out" church. (Mission includes both the evangelistic proclamation of the gospel for the salvation of the world and service to others in the name of Christ.)

Worship serves the purpose of mission, not because it directly accomplishes the tasks of evangelical proclamation and diaconal service but because it offers access to the means of grace that propel the individual and the community as a whole into such activity. Worship and mission, however, remain distinct activities within clearly demarcated spheres of the church's life--inside and out.

Worship, with this mind-set, is really only for those inside the church; mission is what we are called to do outside the church. The second approach Schattauer describes is what many churches do as "contemporary churches," the "outside in" approach. To try and repair the separation of the Christian life into separate realms (church and world), the contemporary church has attempted to "bring the activities of mission directly into the context of worship."

... [Worship] becomes one of two things--either a stage from which to present the gospel and reach out to the unchurched and irreligious, or a platform from which to issue the call to serve the neighbor and rally commitment for social and political action...The tasks of mission become the principal purpose of the church's worship--outside in.

As we, the non-professor reader wonder what, really, is wrong with either scenario, Schattauer offers a third option which rings so true to me that the other two options are no longer possible "as is."

There is a third way, inside out. This approach locates the liturgical assembly 
[worship] , to whitself within the arena of the missio Dei [mission of God]. The focus is on God's mission toward the world, to which the church witnesses and into which it is drawn, rather than on specific activities of the church undertaken in response to the divine saving initiative...The visible act of assembly (in Christ by the power of the Spirit) and the forms of this assembly-what we call liturgy-enact and signify this mission...The [worshipping] assembly is the visible locus of God's reconciling mission toward the world.

I like this. The church gathered to worship is part of the mission of God...and becomes the visible focal point of that mission. (sometimes we can really screw that up!) I have heard the worshipping community, the worship ritual itself, described as a "statement of reality." Who are we really? Consumers? Parents? Stressed worker-bees in an economic machine? The poor? The rich? Cool? Old? Young? Which label are we really? Worship places us in the "real." We are identified, really really, as the people of God, ultimately not under the control of powers and principalities that never have our best interests at heart.

God's mission? The "salvation" of the world. Eugene Peterson puts it this way in Five Smooth Stones for Pastoral Work:

Salvation is the act of God in which we are rescued from the consequences of our sin (bondage, fragmentation) and put in a position to live in free, open, loving relationships with God and our neighbors...With God's act of salvation we are able to be addressed by a whole series of commands by which we are ordered into live, whole, healthy relationships with God and other persons...[God's] people were saved--they were defined, shaped, and centered not by military, political or environmental forces but by the act of God. (p. 27)

We could so add "economic forces" to that list. But the point is we are defined by God, not by anything  or anyone else. Our participation in worship teaches us that, reminds us of that, and reveals to the world this different, grace-centered reality.

Church can be strange. I give you that. We do all stand at certain times and sing together. We admit aloud to being sinful creatures who struggle mightily to live into whole healthy relationships with God and other persons. We address an Almighty God who spoke the good creation into being and gifted us with life. We celebrate the saving activity of our God who came to us, revealed God's intention for life together, and defeated the powers of sin and death to which we give so much credence. We use strange rituals, say strange words, and enact strange behaviors. But all those strange things become opportunities to understand a new reality...the ultimate reality shaping each of us.

And, if you will excuse one more quote...this is Schattauer's articulation of the reason for the worship celebration. BTW, His "flickering flame in the middle of the night" is the metaphorical position of the church in culture.

This arena [worship] is a highly symbolic one in which the gathering of a local company of the faithful around a flickering flame in the middle of the night is set in relation to choirs of angels, the earth, and the whole church encompassing the peoples, all joined in a joyful eruption of cosmic praise. The liturgical assembly is never just what it appears to be. It always points to the eschatological reality beyond itself, to the purpose of God in Christ for the world and its peoples, for the whole created order...

We are, by this definition, all satellite churches, as communities, but also as individuals in our personal orbits between Sundays. This is God's mission, God's definition, Gods' work, God's purpose for all of creation. God is the one who streams in through the hearing of the Word, the practice of prayer, praise, and the recognition that we are inherently part of God's mission in the world. We don't go do it for God. We exist and act as God's people in the world with God, by the power of God. Worship reshapes us, redefines us, and as this re-created people, we each are satellites of God's message and purpose.

Yeah, go chew on this one for awhile...bunches of little satellites circling around something...sometimes many somethings. But I am again inspired and committed to God's vision of the world, this reality that says we really can, through the power of the Spirit, live whole, healthy, relational lives. That is what I want as the center of my life. The rest seems more and more like space junk.

Presbyterian Evangelism (not an oxymoron!)...

“Invite a Friend to Church Sunday!”
       Uncommon words for Presbyterians.
       Uncomfortable words for Presbyterians.
       Un-doable words for Presbyterians? Maybe. Maybe not.

I suppose there’s bad news in the mix. If “you build it and they will come” worked anymore, we wouldn’t have to invite people to church. They would drive by, see the building, and eagerly speed up the drive to introduce themselves and get involved. We do have people speed up our drive, but they live in the back forty and are in a hurry to get home. The days of people flocking to us because everyone is doing it are gone.

More bad news involves the three most common terms/phrases people use to identify Christians: hypocritical, judgmental, and anti-homosexual. That’s the identity that gets spread through the media. That’s the “controversy” that sells. Grace and acceptance are not nearly as marketable. (Everyone knows the name of that church picketing funerals whose name I won't mention because I refuse to give them more free advertising. Only we know the names of our ordinary, local churches.)

There’s also interesting news in the mix. I’ve been reading about membership and the lack thereof. A multitude of organizations survey people inside and outside of the church. Much information in the first wave of survey results were not positive. The most shocking statistic for Americans who have always claimed to be a religious people, was the 20% of people who now are unafraid to claim “none” status when asked about religious preference. Believe me, that got church tongues a-waggin’. If people will actually admit publicly they don’t care about church, we might be in trouble. People have not cared about church forever, but “none” would dare admit it. Now “nones” embrace it. Yikes!

But once you find a shocking behavior, people study it further and results get refined. Claude Fischer, a professor of sociology at Berkeley helps understand the statistics.

FIrst the “nones” are neither atheist or agnostic, they are “nothing in particular." Fischer says, “A growing proportion of Americans, particularly young ones, who lean liberal politically (and were not much religious to start with) have responded to the growing connection between churches and conservative cultural politics by declaring their opposition to organized religion. If religion means the “religious right,” they seem to be saying, then count me out.” The economic issue seems to be the extended period between adolescence and adulthood where young adults are not in stable jobs, homes, or relationships, and until they are, they don’t tend to “return to church.”

What do people want? One more list from a researcher.

• A church that makes space for imaginative risk-taking and creative self-expression.
• A church that nurtures a deep, holistic faith that encompasses every area of life.
• A church that doesn’t separate or demonize science, but interacts with it positively and prophetically
• A church that understands and works toward a vision of “restored relationships” instead of sexual repressiveness.
• A church that pursues and includes outsiders as Jesus did.
• A church that allows doubts, helping integrate questions into a “robust life of faith.”

And now, the good news in the mix. First, the reformed tradition (definitively my church, Forest Hills Presbyterian, and others I know about) does not intentionally practice a repressive, exclusive, judgmental Christianity--we work hard not to. We slip up; we are fully human. But we value the inclusive, educated, relational discipleship that Jesus embodied, that Jesus taught us God embodied. Our word, “grace.”

Second, the church of Jesus Christ has been blessed with a great, diverse congregation, a people called together to spread the good news of the gospel--not that we are “in” and others are “out,” but that God has acted on behalf of all people and that we, recognizing that great gift of love and grace, have been called together, bringing our gifts to work to equip each other as disciples and answer God’s call to work to change the world, bringing justice and peace as defined by God. Micah puts it well... we attempt to “do justice, love mercy and walk humbly with our God.”

So, to consider an “Invite a Friend to Church” Sunday, perhaps we don’t mean “friend” in the traditional sense, someone we know, who probably goes to another church, but who will come with us one Sunday. Perhaps we should say “Invite a Child of God to Church.” Our call here is to be aware of the people in our lives who need community, who need purpose in life, who need God’s grace. We know God is at work out there ahead of us. We now know that most people we converse with are not atheists or agnostics, but people who probably think all church is something we are not and who are looking for the very things we experience in this faith community. We need to remember that we are not “saving” them, but inviting them to come, experience and know the “Triune God who creates, redeems, sustains, rules, and transforms all things and all people.” (From the Book of Order, PCUSA)

Maybe you don’t know who that person is that God asks you to invite, to include. You can still do something--three “P’s”. Pray that God will be active in their lives to turn them toward openness. You may not know who they are, but God does. Practice articulating the grace you have experienced (including the failures for which we all must make amends). Pledge to actually invite others who cross your path for that is God's work on their behalf.

“Invite a Friend to Church Sunday!”
       Un-doable words for Presbyterians? No. “We can do all things through Christ...”

See, there is such a thing as Presbyterian Evangelism!

(Disclaimer...a version of this was written for the church newsletter.  Apologies to those reading twice.  Kudos for actually reading your newsletter!!)

The Fair or the Just...

The conversation this week on the radio was all about a denial of merger between two large airlines. It's not fair, people complain. The last time two airlines wanted to merge, it was allowed. To be fair, you should allow the merger this time, too. Opponents made the point that times and economic conditions were different last time.

I find the "fair" argument fascinating.  My kids used it...a LOT.  "It's not fair!" was a fallback position anytime another person got something they wanted, or thought they wanted. But, of course, when they benefitted from special treatment, all was well.

We all do it.  It's human nature to want the "other" person's benefits cut while preserving our own. Makes perfect sense. "We" work hard, are deserving, and will make good use of the benefit. "They" on the other hand, are lazy, don't deserve special treatment, and will waste the opportunity.

One way I have been transformed by my faith journey is learning to use the right adjective. I no longer ask, "Is it fair?"  My question is, "Is it just?" I have four children, have worked with many others in my work as an educator in schools and church.  Each child needs something different from me.  Some need much time and energy. Some less. "Fair" would mean each child should get the exact same amount of time. "Just" means each child gets what they need.

God is not "fair" to us. We never get the same thing as the person next to us. We also do not get what we "deserve."  What we get is God's very self, an offer of relationship that leads ultimately to our shalom, our health and wholeness...and more importantly, the health and wholeness of our families, our communities, and the whole world. That's God's vision. But it is not "fair." It will never be "fair."

SNAP grants have been cut significantly by congress. One reason, "It's not fair." Not fair that some people get government assistance.  Not fair that a few abuse the system. Not fair that I can't go down and get help with my grocery bill.

Our God is a God who favors the poor, the widow, the orphan. For God, the issue is never fairness, it's always justice.

It's time to change the question.

The 23rd Psalm...

We are at a youth retreat, and while most of the time these retreats are thoughtful and interesting, occasionally the need to be "relevant" and "creative" becomes the tail wagging the dog. At times, the fail is of epic proportions. This year's example, the "enactment" of the Psalm 23 with sheep dressed in white shorts and t-shirts with men's black dress socks on their hands/arms and feet/legs. Think white sheep, black legs and you get the picture. (Though the poor "sheep" did have to walk around the stage a good while saying "baaaaa" before we figured it out.)

After we understood the strange guy who didn't know how to dress was, in fact, a sheep, his sheep friends joined him in a lovely little flock (boon of business for the sock industry--buy stock now). Their blue-jean clad shepherd held some kind of big stick. The re-telling of the psalm commenced.

Shaking fabric made "water" which the sheep walked beside, then lay down next to. The shepherd had a pool whistle used to summon the sheep when they wandered off. The water, when held over the sheep, became the "darkest shadows"--the "valley of the shadow of death" to most of us.  The "table of my enemies" was a communion table--picture Da Vinci's "The Last Supper" only with sheep, not disciples or Weinheimer dogs.  The one really cool thing was the overflowing cup--done with glitter that looked in that huge auditorium just like water...it splashed all over the table and we all gasped. You aren't supposed to spill stuff at God's feast.

So, that's about it. In the nicest of terms, I suppose we can retell most of the psalm with the images we got. But it just wasn't right. If that's what the Psalm is all about, we might as well shut the doors of our churches. I wouldn't even get up on Sunday for that...and they pay me!

Here's what I'd act out...

Dig up from the recesses of your memory what you know about the Greek and Roman Gods, or the Babylonian gods if you really were a nerd. They are strong, capricious, violent. They are concerned with power, control, and being catered to. They cared little for the humans running around the planet. They actually seemed to enjoy getting back at the humans for perceived offenses...a tidal wave here, an extreme winter there...extreme wind, hail, heat...well, you get the idea.

Dig up from the recesses of the Hebrew texts the understanding of the LORD as completely holy, completely other. The One God was so holy, the Jews used the letters YHWH instead of calling God's name. The One God was so holy, you literally took your life in your hands as the priest who entered the Holy of Holies once a year to make the sacrifices for the people's sin. If the priest had not cleansed his own sin completely, death was certain.

Juxtapose our "Holy, Other, Mighty God" with "The Lord is my shepherd." The God who could justifiably condemn us--or at the very least toy with us like Greek and Roman gods--instead, the Holy One of Israel serves us, cares for us, provides for our wholeness, our rest, even our food. The God who created the earth with a Word, gives himself to us without condition or reservation. We usually read it, The Lord is my SHEPHERD. I think we might should read it, The LORD is my shepherd. I am humbled.

Next God takes our greatest fear and "comforts us." The "valley of the shadow of death" is an inescapable reality, but one walked with the Lord God, the Holy One of Israel.

Then we get a table set before us "in the presence of our enemies." We certainly can name our enemies, but for the most part, our enemies tend toward the metaphorical or distant. Truth is, it has been since the Civil War that we fought a war on home soil. Often we define enemy as mean people at school or work. Sometimes we make enemies metaphorical--like hunger or poverty--and like those are uncontrollable entities and not creations of our own unjust practice. But "enemies" to me has never been particularly urgent, a result, I am sure, of the relatively secure life with which I am blessed.

Imagine Israel, a tiny nation encircled by hostile forces. Forces known for their lack of mercy. Forces that could not be beaten by most, much less by this tiny group of people known as the people of God. In the midst of these enemies, God sets a table. We sit down to eat, often in a reclining position at that time. We sit down, a posture of weakness, vulnerability. When we eat, we are not ready to fight. In fact, the surge of adrenaline needed for a fight takes away our appetite. Physically, we don't seem to be able to do these two things at once.  

God sets a table for us in the presence of our enemies. Eat...be nurtured. Know that the Holy One of Israel is your shepherd, your protector, and your provider. Our heads are anointed, our cup overflows. That ought to make us want to say grace at a meal!

Finally, goodness and mercy follow us all the days of our lives. Except, they don't. What the Hebrew text actually says is that goodness and mercy "pursue" us all the days of our lives. God is not content to follow. God wants goodness and mercy for us so badly that God will chase us down as we make poor choices or insist that living in the chaos of this American life is our only choice. Being pursued all the days of our lives. Perhaps we should slow down and let ourselves be caught.

That's the God that transformed my life. That's the God that continues the transformation. That's the God that I get up to worship on Sunday mornings.  Joy is good. Fun is great.  Spirit and energy reflect the "joy of our salvation."  But we don't worship a cartoon God. The richness of God's promise, care, and interaction with us too often far greater than a "skit" can convey.

Forgive us, O Lord, for the ways in which we fail.  Keep pursuing us so that we might, indeed, live in the house of the Lord our whole lives long.